#I have watched this show countless times and I never noticed this detail

[thetypingpool]

Going completely insane because I never noticed Stede was barefoot when he went back! He was BAREFOOT 💀

#ofmd #our flag means death #I have watched this show countless times and I never noticed this detail #he walked back barefoot #the trauma! #my heart #stede bonnet

[beetlejuicyy]

╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯

Yearning | Shinazugawa Sanemi x reader

Summary: you get very horny after your first mission with Sanemi

Warnings: !nsfw! smut with some plot

Word count: 8,216

Read it on AO3

Notes: I needed to get this out of my system after watching the movie

Masterlist

The most annoying thing about you was that you were friends with Tomioka Giyuu, Sanemi thought as he stole glimpses at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't stand that guy. The way he looked upon others was always from a superior point of view. The way he talked, rarely and unbothered, was always a favor for anyone who could hear him. You were the same, somewhat worse. On top of all of Tomioka Giyuu's flaws, when you would open your mouth to talk daggers seemed to stab him. You were brutally honest when provoked by him and almost too sure of your own strength. The big difference, however, was that Shinazugawa Sanemi wanted to kill Tomioka for his attitude, while he wanted to fuck you out of it.

He never really knew how to talk to you. Granted, he would never act based on his feelings or let them show in any way. He admired you for your strength as well as your beauty. While he did respect you as one of his fellow Hashira, his eyes would always slip down your body, too weak to resist the way your uniform fit on your curves, the soft skin of your exposed neck or your long hair that always smelled like summer flowers. He would soon fight with himself to stop staring at you, afraid that someone might notice. He would always find moments when he was sure no one was looking, not even you, to see from the distance how bad your injuries were after a mission and he would try to find out if you were fine from the people at the infirmary. But he would never tell you. You rarely ran into each other because of countless missions back to back, both of you being Hashira. You worked on your own most of the time, backed up by lower ranked demon slayers or alongside Tomioka on tougher missions, simply because you got along very well. You and Shinazugawa met occasionally in training, although rather seldom, and during the official meetings at the Ubuyashiki manor. He felt the need to get closer to you, but he didn't have the means to do so. So he resorted to what he knew best, attacking Tomioka indirectly, knowing that you won't miss the chance to step in and try to outsmart him with another witty remark. Most of the words exchanged between the two of you were on a passive-aggressive tone and he was certain that his feelings, buried deep inside his heart, were concealed by the well-known rivalry.

Although he noticed this method was effective in getting your attention, Shinazugawa didn't know exactly to what extent you enjoyed this type of bickering. You too found him annoying. Sometimes he would talk more than needed and he had too good of an opinion about himself. He was cold and senseless sometimes, too focused on the details to be able to see the bigger picture. He wasn’t exactly the nicest person you could stumble upon, but he wasn’t a bad person either. Shinazugawa was hard to approach, intimidating and challenging but most of all you loved getting him angry. Tomioka didn't need anyone stepping up for him, and you didn't do it for your friend's sake anyway. You simply enjoyed to hear Shinazugawa's raspy voice grow in volume and see the anger in his eyes whenever he would feel intimidated, belittled or dismissed. He was hot, you thought one day, appalled, as he ran after Giyuu almost attacking him physically, if it hadn't been for the other Hashira. But you never let it show. You were sure he hated you as much as he hated your friend. You had to be a veritable masochist to have a crush on a guy like him.

Now, despite your reputation as arch enemies, you had been sent on a mission together. It was almost strange to see how well the two of you got along, especially on the battlefield, when you weren't pressured to hide the obvious from other people. You soon noticed that, contrary to his unfriendly nature, Shinazugawa paid a lot of attention to you, conveyed in small gestures.

"Look, the owner said his wife is a healer." He said in the softest voice you ever heard him talk, offering you a small bottle filled with a herbal mixture. You had travelled for a couple of days by that time and stopped at an inn on your way to grab something to eat. When you looked at him questioningly, he looked the other way. "You have been in pain since this morning." And indeed you were feeling some discomfort, altough you never said a word about it, because, before being a demon slayer, you were a woman with a natural body cycle. Maybe he really was a gentleman, although you would have never guessed it, you thought on multiple occasions. Then again, you would remember how everyone saw him and you shook the thought off your mind.

The demon you were after was hard to track. It took a couple of weeks to find its whereabouts, plenty of time for you and Shinazugawa to get comfortable around each other. He was actually sweet, you found yourself thinking as he did his best to maintain a conversation. You liked the sound of his laugh, although it was closer to a low giggle, whenever you tried to crack a joke. You’ve never heard it before but it made your heart flutter a little. Even the silence started to feel comfortable. After a couple of days of trying to find different topics to talk about, you learned a lot about him, although it was only trivial aspects of his life. By now, simply exchanging looks was enough to understand each other.

The fight too place near a small village hidden in the mountains. It was a powerful demon, even though both of you were two of the strongest demon slayers. Shinazugawa’s injuries were worse than yours and he almost lost consciousness by the end of the battle, but you took care of him until the morning, when the people from the village came. They were beyond grateful to you so, in exchange for your services, the head of the village offered to have you stay at the onsen until you regained enough strength for travelling back home.

***

Usually, after a fight, you would sleep like a baby. It was the deepest and most restful sleep that allowed your body to heal properly. No dreams to keep your mind busy, no need to wake up thirsty or any other reason could compromise the sweet moment of relaxation after driving your body to its maximum strength. But this time was different. Maybe because you had spent so much time with Shinazugawa, or maybe those few hours until sunrise while you tended to his injuries were to be blamed. But you had a wet dream. You woke up, confused and well aware of the fact that you were wet. You could still remember all the details, all the positions you imagined yourself in, the way his voice sounded in your ears while grunting and moaning your name, his white hair wet sticking to the back of his neck and his forehead because of sweat, sounds of skin slapping against skin, his palm pressed open just below your navel as he thrusted into you- No. You shook your head, trying to get it out of your mind. You had a crush on him, yes. You found him attractive, yes. You occasionally had dirty thoughts about him. But this was getting out of hand. The worst, still, was that the dream didn’t even help with anything, it only made you aware of how attracted you were to him, how horny he made you feel. It was because you spent so much time together, for sure. Also, the adrenaline of the battle could have this type of side effects in the body often. You could lie to yourself as much as you wanted, but you had never experienced it with anyone else before, you knew that. Now that you were thinking about it, it was around two weeks or so since he gave you that painkiller for your period.

You were ovulating.

The realization left you feeling even more helpless. In any other case, you could hope to fight it, hide it, ignore it. But now, aware of your hormones going crazy inside your body for a few days, you could do nothing about it. It made you feel helpless. The thought of fucking Shinazugawa couldn’t leave your mind. Come to think about it, he was very kind to you these past few weeks. He couldn’t… No. Or maybe there was a small chance he did? Small gestures, kind words, playful and easy going behaviour, all these things were the total opposite of what you expected of him. Could he like you?

***

Despite the blood, sweat and dirt covering your body after fighting a demon, you still smelled like the flowers in summer. Yes, now that his nose was barely touching your shoulder he could fell that it wasn’t only in your hair, the soft and sweet smell was everywhere on your body. Sanemi desperately wanted to open his eyes to see you, but he was too exhausted. The warmth of your body covered him like a thin blanket and he found it in himself to force his hand to grab you by the sleeve. But there was no sleeve because he felt the warm skin of your arm and almost heard the soft coo of your voice when you told him to stay still. Using the last drop of strength that he had, his eyes were obliged to open, even faintly between lashes, to witness your body leaning over his. Above your waist, your body was covered only in your undergarments, hence your bare arm that he was still clinging to. If he hadn’t been covered in blood you could probably see his skin turn to a shade of red, as the silky skin of your chest was only inches away from his face.

Shinazugawa turned around on the futon for the hundredth time. He had been awake for a while now. When he woke up, his body sore and his mind cloudy, the first thing he noticed was that the material around his arm resembled his own uniform. He quickly remembered getting stabbed there, it probably was the deepest wound on his body. So that’s why you were undressed, Shinazugawa thought. Indeed, he hadn’t been hallucinating. You used your own shirt to improvise a tight bandage on his arm in order to reduce blood loss.

Not long after he woke, a girl working at the onsen brought him water and a tray with food. He didn’t have an appetite but munched on it anyway, knowing it will help him build back his strength.

“How is she?” He asked the girl while she was pushing the door closed as she exited theb room.

“Your colleague?” He nodded. He didn’t like the word colleague, it was too formal and too cold for what he wanted you to be. At the same time, he didn’t know how to refer to you. “She’s still asleep, I believe. Thanks to her first aid skills your body is quicker to recover than expected.” Part of him was relieved now that someone confirmed your safety. The last thing he remembered was defeating the demon together, but collapsing to the ground shortly after, losing control over his worn out body. Glimpses of you flashed in Shinazugawa’s memory chaotically. However, your clothes as his bandage was proof enough that they were not just a product of his imagination.

“I need to change these bandages. Bring me some?” The girl bowed and left quickly. She probably had a lot of work to attend to or rather she was scared of him to some extent.

When the girl came back she was not alone but accompanied by the owner of the onsen, whose face Shinazugawa didn’t remember since he was already unconscious when the villagers arrived, and another man who seemed to be a doctor.

“I can handle it myself.” He quickly dismissed them when, after offering his gratitude once again for killing the demon, the owner suggested that the young girl would help him wash up while the doctor checked up on his body. No additional pleas were allowed. The girl left a basin with fresh water and a basket of clean bandages and ointment by the futon and they left the room.

More than anything, Shianzugawa wanted silence. But he couldn’t have it. Now that the mission was fulfilled, there was nothing else to keep his mind busy and distract him from you. Moreover, you would be leaving soon. He loved having you all to himself. And you seemed to like it too, he would think sometimes. You were not as irritating as before and, to his surprise, all the things he found difficult about you turned into qualities that he appreciated. It was only Tomioka’s fault, he mumbled to himself. What he most afraid of was that, once you would be back home, you would go back to spending time with that bastard. All this time you shared would be forgotten and everything would go back to normal.

“Shinazugawa? You’re awake?” Shinazugawa’s bared back was turned to the door as you opened it carefully. He was sitting on the floor, checking some minor wounds. He turned around to look at you, his breath stuck in his throat as he noticed you were wearing only a thin robe loosely tied around the waist. It exposed your chest to a degree he’s never witnessed, granted that your uniform was always buttoned up and covering your breasts entirely.

“Y-yeah.” He quickly found his voice and shifted on the futon, turning to face you. He was only wearing a pair of clean pants. The upper side of his body was covered in bruises or bandages and he was barefoot. “Good job on the mission.” He blurted out, without even thinking about it. He felt pressured to talk, thinking that conversation would distract you from noticing the effect your attire had on him. But you started walking towards him and, with every step, he felt his heart beat faster and faster. His expression was stern and seemingly uninterested, but his eyes alone travelled from your bared calves along the line of your legs until they were completely hidden by the robe, high enough that he expected to see the colour of your panties with every step you took. You didn’t have anything underneath that robe, it was obvious from the way the lose knot around your waist could come undone any minute, from the generous amount of chest that was exposed, from the way one of your sleeves was hanging lower than the other, almost revealing your bare shoulder. Shinazugawa was thirsty. He felt his lips part without control in an awed expression as you crouched down next to him and placed your palm on his forehead. He was thirsty, but water could never quench the kind of thirst he had.

“I was afraid you would catch an infection with all those open wounds. You seem fine.” It was embarrassing how difficult he found it to swallow his own saliva.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He pushed your hand away gently. If you touched him for one more second, he was afraid his heart would burst. He couldn’t look away from you though. There was something about you he had never seen before. And it wasn’t only the way your nipples poked against the thin material of the robe you were wearing, although it was a very compelling sight.

“We're at an onsen. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.” You said standing up. He would take advantage of you, Shinazugawa though but tried to control himself, given that the bulge growing bigger in his pants couldn’t be controlled. “I just can’t find any towels in my room.” You complained looking around his room. It was such a stupid excuse. Of course there were no towels, they would be by the water, not in every room, so you could grab them on your way. But it was the only idea you could come up with, having your mind clouded by the excitement you felt in your lower belly when you thought about Shinazugawa. It was even harder to act normal when you saw him, shirtless, messy white hair, the muscles on his back flexing as he turned to face you.

“I think you can find them there.” He answered. You turned around on your heels, biting your lip. He looked so good. Your fingers itched to touch all of his scars, on his arms and chest and abdomen and go even lower.

“Why don’t you come with me?” You blurted out.

“We would be in different areas anyway.” He replied. It made sense, usually there were separate spaces for men and women. But that wasn’t enough reason for you, especially not after seeing him in that state. You needed him very badly. At this point, you didn’t even bother to think if the feeling was mutual or if you were making a fool of yourself. You would do anything to ride Shinazugawa’s cock.

“Oh, come on.” Your voice was louder and higher in pitch than you expected. “The building is empty, save the guy at the reception. We’re the only people here.” The idea of getting in the hot water with you left Shinazugawa speechless. He could only imagine what was hiding under that robe and you were giving him the chance to find out.

***

You got in first while he turned around to give you some privacy until your body was covered in the cloudy water. It was great for your tired bodies, soaking in thermal water. But you weren’t here for that. You didn’t even feel the difference in temperature, since your body was already burning with lust.

“Hey, don’t look.” He said, embarrassed, when you gestured for him to come in. You playfully covered your eyes like a child, though peeking between your fingers to see Shinazugawa as he was getting undressed, catching a glimpse of his already hard dick. You quickly moved your fingers to cover your eyes, so he wouldn’t know. But the sight had already done irreversible damage to your mind. He couldn’t help but constantly think about the fact that you were naked under that water. So he tried to keep a decent distance between the two of you, not too big to become awkward but not too small so you couldn’t accidentally touch him and notice his dick was painfully hard. But you would always close the distance between the two of you. You would shift your position all the time, showing him something or pretending you didn’t hear what he was saying. When you moved, the water level would shift with you, revealing more or less of your round breasts, but never all of it.

“It looks so much better.” You said, getting the closest your ever got to him, as you gently touched his arm where you had bandaged it the night before.

“Sleep helps a lot.” He said, aware of the fact that, if you moved one inch closer, you would feel his dick against your belly.

“I tried my best so you wouldn’t get another scar.” You continued in a low, seductive voice that you didn’t know you possessed. Your fingers ran along Shinazugawa’s scarred skin, from his muscular arm up to his shoulder, brushing against his bony clavicle. “You already have so many.” He let out a hot breath as your fingers continued their way on his chest where two long scars crossed each other in an x shape. “But I always thought they’re hot.” Your touch moved even lower, on the scar that was travelling along his abdomen. By now, your hand was already underwater.

“Y/n…” Shinazugawa breathed out your name, almost moaning it. It was torture to him. You could at least say what you wanted from him, straight to his face, without killing him second by second with ghostly touches and promiscuous words. “What are you doing?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes hungry with lust. It was unbearable for him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” The sarcasm lingering in your languid voice reminded him of all the arguments you usually had. Shinazugawa grabbed you by the chin carefully but firmly enough to force your head back to look up at him. You never thought his rough hands damaged by countless fights with demons could be this gentle.

“I think you’re being desperate.” His lips moved dangerously close to yours, though never touching, as he leaned his face towards yours. “And I’m running out of patience.” His eyes were so demanding that your hand rested just above his navel, not daring to go lower as long as he was forcing you to look at him.

“I could see that.” You mouthed back, obviously referring to his erection.

“Then do something about it.” He muttered between his teeth. You didn’t need anything more. Pressing your body against his, you kissed him roughly and he let you get whatever you wanted for a while. It was almost amusing to Shinazugawa, to see how hungrily your lips pressed against his, how desperate your tongue was to circle with his. The pressure of your flesh against his dick didn’t provide the friction he needed, but it was promising enough. Your hands were all over his body, craving to have no inch left untouched. He grabbed you by the hips, holding you still as you were already standing on your tippy toes to be able to kiss him. Shinazugawa had lost count to how many fantasies he had imagined in his head before, but he was sure he never dared to dream you would be this hungry for him. Your lips soon left his and moved down to leave wet trails on his jaw and along his neck, biting and sucking. You heard him hiss in pain a few times, which only made you even more aroused. Every sound that was coming out of his mouth was so hot, so stimulating that it only made you even more desperate for him.

Shinazugawa let you do as you pleased for a while. After all, it was extremely satisfying to him to have you all over himself. He might have gotten bored though, because one of his hands grabbed you by the hair and forcefully pulled your face away from him. You whined in pain and frustration.

“You’re such a needy whore.” Your lips were swollen and your eyes darkened as you looked back at him. He let go of your hair as he kissed you, arms circled around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. This time, he was in control and you had no way of regaining dominance as his tongue roughly pushed against your lips, forcing its way inside your mouth. Your breasts were tightly pressed against his chest and you felt the desperate need for friction between your legs. But Shinazugawa’s hands moved down your back, grabbing your ass, fingers digging painfully deep into your flesh. You whimpered against his mouth, but not because of the pain. He had you paralysed now. You couldn’t move your hips against him anymore.

***

You didn’t know how you got out of the water, briefly patted your bodies dry with some towels and put on robes to cover yourselves in case an employee would see you on the hallway. You only remembered Shinazugawa’s tight grip on your hand as he dragged you after him, rushing back to his room. He slammed the sliding door open and allowed you to step in first. You barely let him closed the door, your hands already pulling at his robe that was already undone. He pushed you against the wall, cornering you. There was nowhere to run, his large body covered yours with ease. In a totally unexpected gesture, he brushed his fingers through your damp hair, as if trying to make sure you were really there with him.

You were taken aback by this change in pace and atmosphere. But he hissed in pain and only now did you become aware of the fact that you had been too focused on your own needs, to such an extent that made you forget his body wasn't in such a good condition as your own.

"Shinazugawa?" You called out his name as you gently sat with him on the floor. He snorted at the formal way his surname sounded out of your mouth. The same mouth that was so ready to swallow him whole a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, we can stop if you can't-"

"No!" He quickly dismissed the idea. After years of hidden feelings and wet dreams he was so close to having you. He would not lose the chance.

"But your body is-" You tried brushing the white strands of hair out of his face to see him and your fingers felt the uneven texture of the scar on his forehead.

Shinazugawa didn't bother arguing with you. He simply kissed you again, slower this time, more sensual and intimate. It felt as if the roughness and hunger from before were only the outer layer to something deeper that he wanted to convey to you and you let him have his own pace, although the heat between your legs was aching. He seemed to know that, because he grabbed your hand and guided it down between your legs. You instinctively spread them open, anticipating. Guided by his hand, your fingers slowly rubbed circles against your clit and you moaned against his mouth.

"Touch yourself for me." He said. For a moment, you thought that he meant for you to please yourself because he wasn't able to. But, as he pulled away from you and placed his palms behind him on the wooden floor, leaning back to see you better, you noticed that the brief moment of vulnerability was gone from his eyes. He was demanding, exactly as he sounded. His robe was covering only his arms and shoulders as it fell down at his sides and spilled on the floor, undone, his bared body fully exposed to your eyes. Your eyes took in the sight, with great attention to his throbbing cock that seemed to invite you to touch it. At first, you found it akward and embarrasing, especially feeling the pressure of his eyes watching your every move, eager not to miss one bit of it. But you've done it many times before, you've touched yourself with him on your mind so many times. On top of that, his presence quickly changed from an impediment to a huge turn on. You saw the way he licked his lips as he watched you, flinching at every sound you let out. More than anything you were desperate for his dick that was proudly sticking hard against his lower abdomen like a prize you could get only if you passed this test. So you continued to stimulate yourself.

Shinazugawa was fascinated by you. He was under some kind of spell, eyes focused on your body, taking in every bit of detail. How wet you were becoming, the small mole on your inner left thigh, your exposed neck as your head fell back in pleasure. He touched himself too, placing his palm at the base of his cock, stroking it faintly in order to relieve some of of the tension in his entire body. As much as he couldn't wait to fuck you, something else inside him took even more pleasure from witnessing your filthiest, most sexual self. And you were doing it just for him.

"Say my name. My own name." Shinazugawa's command covered the sound of your mewls. You've done that before as well. Alone, in your room, while everybody slept, you would moan his name as you masturbated. His name, not his surname that you asdressed each other by, the name you couldn't call him by out loud.

"Sanemi." You moaned. You always thought his name was moanable.

"Fuck." He breathed out, as your voice found its way inside his body, driving him closer to orgasm. "Say it again."

"Sanemi." You obliged. With eyes half open you saw him touching himself as well.

"Again." He grunted.

"Sanemi I'm-"

"Don't cum." He warned, figuring out from the way your voice cracked that you were close. You gently hit your head against the wall in frustration, forcing your hand away from your throbbing clit. You were so close. When you looked back at him, he was already sitting on the futon, gesturing for you to come next to him. With shaky legs, you crawled on all fours towards him. He greeted you with another wet kiss, his hand cupping one of your breasts, his thumb running circles around your nipple.

"I want to ride you." You pleaded against his lips.

"Only if you ask nicely." He grinned. Although he was composed and teasing, the way you were so straight forward about your desires made his head spin in exicitement. You gently pushed your palms against his muscular chest and he lightly fell with his back against the futon.

"It wasn't a question." You said as you straddled him.

Shinazugawa watched as you climbed on top of him, biting his lower lip in satisfaction whe he felt your soft plushy tighs press against his hips. He put both his hands under his head, looking at the curves of your body on top of him, at the way your hair was falling over your shoulders, covering only small parts of your breasts. From the first moment he saw you, he felt attracted to your body. But now that he was witnessing it completely naked, in all its beauty, he was sure you had to be a goddess.

He allowed you to do whatever you pleased with him. At first, you only rubbed your folds against his dick lightly, rocking your hips in a slow back and forth motion on top of him. He could feel that you were dripping wet, your juices covering him all over. You placed one hand on his chest for support as you picked up the pace, your cunt finally getting the friction it needed for so long. Shinazugawa moaned in response, stimulated by your movements. The sound was so beautiful to your ears. You were determined to make him more vocal. And you did, as a grunt from deep inside his throat came out when you slowly slided his cock inside your welcoming walls. You took your time, adjusting to his girth. Your eyes were glued to his face, trying to memorize as much of his expression as possible. Lips parted, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed, white hair spilling on the futon like a halo around his head. Your first moves were painfully slow for him. The muscles on his arms were tensed and he seemed like he was putting a lot of effort into keeping his hands to himself and not thursting into you as hard and fast as he needed. But the look of ecstasy on your face as your rolled your hips gradually faster, your breasts bouncing with every move, wet sloppy sounds filling the room in a rapid rhythm and your moans, god especially your loud moans as you used his body to please yourself, all of these were making Shinazugawa feel more than satisfied.

Soon, he had to grab you by the hips because, in your desperation to feel him as deep as possible inside, your movements became chaotic and violent, losing pace and balance. He held you in place, his fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips. Supporting yourself on one arm securely placed on his chest, you managed to find his hand and pushed it back towards your ass. His large hands moved to your back as you guided him, grabbing your ass and pushing your body even more against his cock. The sharp sound of his palm slapping your ass as you bouced up and down his dick echoed in the room, sending a flash of pleasure right to your core and your head fell back in pure pleasure. You moaned loudly, probably the loudest so far, and he felt the consequences of it as your walls tightened around him.

"That's right you're so fucking loud." He said and he slapped your ass again, obtaining the same chain of reactions from you.

Sweat was dripping all over your body and you were running out of breath, but the way his cock felt inside you was addictive. Your hand moved to your clit, feeling like the stimulation wasn't enough to drive you to your orgasm, but Shinazugawa's hand pushed yours away. He laid his palm flat against your belly, pushing against your flesh as his thumb found your clit and provided the additional stimulation you needed. There was a puddle of your fluids forming around the base of his cock, as your hips rose and fell on top of him over and over again. Shinazugawa knew better than spilling his seed inside you. Instead, he concentrated on driving you to your high, noticing how your whole body tightened around him, your muscled tensed and eyes tightly shut, all your senses focused on the way his cock rubbed against your walls hitting your sweet spot over and over and over.

Your moans turned into whimpers and then into uneven breaths as you got closer to the edge. But there was one missing thing to get you there. Intuitively and out of pure erotic instinct, Shinazugawa's hand reached your neck, grabging it between his thumb and index finger, putting enough pressure for you to feel lightly choked. You looked down at him despite your blurry vision, his eyes already locked on yours. You gasped for air while your hips slammed against his uncontrollably. His thumb stimulated your clit and your vision whitened as you finally came, your moan reveberating in the room covering the sound of your bodies. You pressed your hips one last time against his body, taking his lenght as deep as it could go, as you chased every last drop of that numbing pleasure that spread trough every nerve in your body making your legs shake. Your heart was beating at a rapid pace to the brink of failing inside your chest as you removed yourself from him, falling on your back next to him.

With the weight and warmth of your body gone, Shinazugawa took it upon himself to reach his own orgasm. His cock was covered in your juices mixed with precum as he wrapped his fingers around it. He turned to look at you, finding the most arousing sight. Your chest was moving up and down as your lungs filled with air and released it, your brests jiggling slightly with every move. You were covered glistening in sweat, legs still pressed together to find every last bit that was left of that sweet high you had reached. On your hips he could see the marks of his fingers turning purple. But the expression on your face, that was the most rewarding thing for him. Furrowed brows, lips slightly parted, hair sticking to tour temples as you let out soft whimpers. All of this because of his cock. He came quick enough, groaning with his eyes closed, your ravished image still impregnated in his mind.

But it was just the beginning. Although releasing his seed eased some of the tension built up in his body, Shinazugawa was nowhere near done with you. Soon enough you felt his heavy weight over your worn out body and opened your eyes in surprised to look at him, towering over you. His cock was laying on your belly, his balls rounded full with arousal ghosting above your skin.

"I hope you've had your fun." He said, "It's my turn now." The look in his eyes was so animalistic as he spoke, you felt your insides twist in satisfying ache as arousal was building up inside you once again.

You cupped his face with both your hands as you kissed him, hungry for his lips, for his touch, for his throbbing cock again inside you. He groaned against your mouth, one hand finding your breast and grabbing it harshly, the soft plush flesh of it squeezed in his rough hand. You whined in response and then he slapped it, gaining an even louder cry of pain from you. Your legs desperately found his waist and tried to get a hold of them, but he pulled away from you, grabbing you by the thighs and forcing you to turn around on the futon, face down, as he ripped the robe you still had on away from your body. His palm hit your bare ass lightly and you quickly understood the command, rising your hips from the floor and up in the air, supporting your weight on your knees.

"Good girl." He cooed in approval as his hands held you in place.

You were expecting his cock to penetrate you any minute now. Instead, he took his time to take in the view of your waist that curved generously into your hips and ass exposed just for him, as the air of the room felt cold compared to your burning, soaked cunt.

"Sanemi..." You cried out. You couldn't see his face, but the sound your voice whining out his name so pathetically got him even cockier than before and his lips curled in a half grin.

"Hmm?"

"Please..." You felt him so close to you, but not close enough. Your pussy ached for his thick cock but you could't even find some sort of consolation with your ass up, legs unable to come close to each other as his own knees were pushing yours open.

"You're not so bold anymore." You didn't need to see his face, the arrogant tone in his voice said everything you needed to know.

The only thing you could do from that position was push your hips back towards him, in hopes that you'll earn some friction. But his hands stopped you as soon as you moved, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue critically. He leaned over your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair and you felt his cock press against your cunt. It was only a feeble touch but enough to have your eyes roll in stimulation as he pulled you by the hair, forcing you to arch your back.

"If you insist on behaving like a slut I'll treat you like one."

That's exactly what you so desperately wanted and he quickly fulfilled his promise as you felt his dick strech your walls once again. You groaned as he didn't lose any time for you to adjust, instead he just thrust in and out of you with violent and swift movements and you had to place your hands firmly on the futon to resist the force he was pushing into you or else your body would have slipped. But he had full control of your body, one hand on your hips pushing your ass back towards his body as he rammed his dick inside you over and over, the other hand a tight grip on your hair, pulling you towards him. The angle allowed him to hit new and untouched spots inside you, and the stimulation that his aggressive movements provided was numbing all your other senses. You didn't feel the pain in your scalp when he pulled you by the hair, you didn't feel your back aching because of the unnatural way it was bending, you didn't feel the strain on your knees, already overworked from riding him, you didn't feel your arms almost giving up, unable to support your body anymore. You only felt his cock slamming into you, his balls hitting your folds with every move.You could only hear his grunts and pants on top of the wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh relentlessly. Your walls tightened around him as you were slowly getting closer to your second orgasm.

But even though ecstasy was numbing everything else and the only thing you could discern was how good his fat cock felt inside you, your body was bound to break down at some point. And it did, because the hands you used to support the upper half of your body slipped and you fell face down on the pillow. Shinazugawa's reflexes followed suit as his hand let go of your hair and both his muscular arms hugged your waist, holding your body in place while he never stopped pounding into you. Now that he was leaning over your back, arms roughly holding your waist, his face buried in your soft hair, you could clearly hear all the unholy sounds coming out of his mouth close to your ear. He was in pure bliss. Contrary to the wet and sticky state of your bodies and the room that was filled with the smell of sex, your hair still embraced him in a fresh and sweet scent that he had always associated with you. Your fists were grabbing the pillow tightly, toes curling in pure pleasure. You moaned in pain as you felt him sink his teeth into the back of your shoulder, groaning like an animal as his movements became uncontrollable and messy, lacking the rhythm and structure they had before. You desperately forced your hand to move under your belly and up between your legs to help yourself reach your high the second time. Shinazugawa was too far gone, too concentrated on his own plesure and his own instincts to even think about you at this point. He was thrusting inside you brutally, chasing his own orgasm, gutural sounds that resembled an animal more than a human coming out of his throat as his teeth were still sunk into your flesh.

But you came too fast. Because you rushed to touch yourself in addition to his cock stimulating your insides, you reached the second, more violent orgasm. It felt twice as much intense as the first and, if it hadn't been for the pillow that your face was buried into to mute your scream of pleasure, you would have woken up the whole village. Your walls tightened around his cock as you came but he wasn't done yet. Soon, you were overstimulated and crying under him. You couldn't fight back, you couldn't push him away or stop him from fucking your overly sensitive cunt. His whole weight was pushing down on you, his arms holding you immobilized as he used your body as a simple sexual object to get himself off. The pillow soon turned wet with your tears. You didn't even know if he was able to hear your cries over his own grunts.

You knew he was done when he moaned your name as came, his seed spilling on your back. You collapsed alongside him on the futon, his grip around your waist never losening. You felt sore and exhausted and used as you laid on your side with him behind you, hearing his deep breathes as he was starved for air. His arms, still securely wrapped around your waist, pulled you closer as he buried his face in your hair and only now you became aware of how sticky your bodies covered in your mixed juices were. It would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy the sense of safety and calm his warmth gave you. So you remained there, without saying a word, as both of your hearts reached a normal rate and your muscles relaxed, the hazy veil of arousal lifting from both your minds.

"I'm sorry for..." He started but he didn't finish his sentence.

It was fascinating to you how mellow his voice sounded, making it almost impossible to understand that the animalistic sounds from before came out of the same mouth. In response, you gently grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on his knuckles. The same knuckles that yanked your hair, the same unyielding arm that held your body against your will against him, they were so weak and willing to follow your guidance.

"How...was it?" He sheepishly asked. You giggled while playing with his fingers. For some reason both of you still avoided seeing face to face.

"It was breathtaking." You said and felt him relax behind you, smiling reassured of your praise.

Soon enough your naked bodies started getting cold. He sat up even though you whined in protest like a little child. Only now did you dare to turn around and look at him, standing in the middle of the room completely naked, with his back turned to you. As he moved, your eyes followed his tall figure from the rounded calves to his ass and up his muscular back and wide shoulders, speding a bit too much time on the nape of his neck then fell back along the lines of his defined arms and slender fingers. You bit your lip, enjoying the view a little bit too much. If it hadn't been for the soreness and your already weakened body from slaying a demon a day prior you would have definitely gone for a third time.

"Sanemi?" You called out his name and it felt so natural, so domestic, so right that you wondered how you ever called him by his surname all this time.

"Yeah?" He turned his face to you instinctively, revealing his handsome profile.

"Nothing. I was just practicing." He scrunched his nose at you like a child and turned back, biting his lip because the sound of his name out of your lips still made him somewhat nervous. He came back to you with a bowl of water and some clean cloths that were left untouched when he fixed his bandages before. You were still on your back, finding another spot that stinged with pain every time you tried sitting up.

"No, it's fine I can do it myself." You quickly tried to dismiss him when he sat down next to you, drenching the cloth in water and touching your thigh to get your legs spread. It made you very nervous and somewhat embarrassed, having him clean you up.

"Shh." It was the only sound that left his lips, so gentle and so loving that you had to give up resisting.

He cleaned up your body with care and all you could do was simply stand there and look at him in awe. He helped you sit up, made you turn around, checking if there was anything left when he noticed the blueish marks on your hips. He leaned over your body, placing a soft kiss over the bruised skin like an apology. Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched. Butterflies exploded in your stomach and you couldn't take your eyes away from him. He was so handsome, so strikingly beautiful. He seemed to notice that you were staring because he smiled back at you.

"There's another one." You said as you brushed your hair away from your shoulder, turning to the side to show him the marks of his teeth on your skin. You didn't know how it looked but you could feel it swollen and pulsing and you guessed it looked worse than the marks on your hips.

"Ah... I'm sorry for... this." So this is what he wanted to say the first time. As he applied some ointment to your shoulder he couldn't help but notice that sweet flowery scent again.

"Can I ask you something?" He said unsure and you nodded. "I.. I always liked the way you smelled. Is it like a perfume or something?"

"I-I know you like gardenias..." You mumbled sheepishly. It was an old habit that you developed because of him. "I heard Genya talking about it once and I..." He chuckled in response to your voice cracking with embarrassment and you felt your cheeks burning.

"I only like them because they remind me of you."

"We're not very bright, are we?" You said, relieved.

"It is only Tomioka's fault." He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the covers, pulling them over both of your bodies.

"What?"

"If you weren't friends with him maybe you would have been easier to approach." He shrugged.

"Maybe if you wouldn't be so petty and hostile you would have been easier to approach." You spat back. Instead of getting angry like usual, he started laughing. The sound of his honest amused laugh warmed your heart instantly.

"Ah, this really feels like our usual conversations."

***

Tomioka sneezed for the third time in a row. It was beginning to get annoying how his training was interrupted by continuous sneezing. It was probably pollen from the trees.

"Someone must be talking about you." Tanjiro remarked.

╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯

#demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer shinazugawa #kny #kny smut #kny sanemi #sanemi x you #sanemi imagines

[angelcent]

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃-𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐌

cw. implied age gap (nothing specific, sukuna is just older and divorced), food, established relationship, alcohol

thinking about big bad older boyfriend sukuna who shows affection with cooking of all things. first, it takes a few months of dating before he even allows you into his personal space; and when he does, your eyes widen at the sheer size of his pristine and expansive kitchen. high ceilings, marble counters, state of the art appliances, an array of culinary knives. like the rest of his penthouse, it's a tasteful mix of traditional and modern design.

your boyfriend is a wealthy and busy man, you had expected him to have a team of chefs who’d be preparing your dinner tonight. instead you see sukuna rolling up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms and the twin bands inked around his wrists. the ones in his left hand are partially covered by the watch you recently bought him.

sukuna is deft with the knives, smoothly chopping up vegetables and fresh herbs with ease; then he begins to lightly season the ribeye steak, carefully rubbing the spices into the meat. you shouldn’t find it so attractive, but your eyes are transfixed on his big hands; on the tattoos across his knuckles. only someone like him can make preparing dinner look so sensual. maybe it's the dim lighting, painting the room with intimacy.

you don't notice how long you've been staring until vermilion eyes meet yours, and he smirks arrogantly. “make yourself useful, dove. grab a bottle from the that closet over there. any red.”

the fact that sukuna has an entire small closet filled with wine bottles doesn't surprise you, but it's still impressive. you choose a full-bodied wine, knowing that he has a penchant for the viscous taste.

when you return, the kitchen smells like melted butter and roasted herbs as he sears the steak. "leather for you, right?" he chuckles, referring to how you like your meat cooked.

you snort, setting the bottle down on the dinner table. "sorry i don't like my steak mooing at me like you do." you notice that the table has already been set, and the attention to detail has uraume written all over it. "but yes, medium-well for me, please. it smells so good!"

"normally i wouldn't give a shit how a guest likes their meat cooked," sukuna murmurs, preparing your dishes to perfection. "but you're the exception, little lamb. for you, i'll bend."

butterflies flitter around inside your belly because you understand the weight of sukuna's words; someone like him would never bother saying something he doesn't mean. he's yours as much as you are his. he's referred to you as his spring, a new beginning after the bitter cold of the winter that was his marriage.

my morning light, is what he murmured into your skin when you first confessed your love to him.

the dinner he's prepared for you tops the countless five star restaurants that he's taken you to, but maybe you're just being biased. you realize that you're not though, once you sit sown and bring your fork to your lips. the food is delicious, carefully cooked to perfection and made with hands that hold your heart.

sukuna looks divine, almost regal as he drinks the blood red wine. he swirls it carefully before taking sips every now and then. he doesn't ask what you think of the food or if you like it—he knows. still, you feel the need to tell him, to gush at how talented he is and how much flavor is in every bite. he laughs in amusement, so you think he doesn't mind.

the wine is buzzing in your veins by the time you two are finished, and your limbs are loose as you get up to settle on his lap. his thick arms wrap around you as you litter kisses along the edge of his jaw. you continue up, kissing the lines of his face and you run your fingers through his peach and white hair. slowly, his hands settle lower on your hips, giving your ass a rough squeeze.

sukuna's mouth almost salivates at the thought of dessert, of the nectar between your thighs.

#oh he's so sexy #not edited #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #starring: sukuna

[arcaneauthor]

Tattoos Tell A Story

Part 2 now up (here), Part 3 (here)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!reader

Summary: Coloring in Ghost’s tattoos has become somewhat of a habit. It’s this habit that’s leads you to discovering a tattoo he had gotten done without your knowledge.

Warnings: Fluff, like so much fluff

A/n: This is my first time posting on tumblr and I have no idea what I’m doing. Requests now open! Pls give me some ideas😭

You found it one day during one of your little “coloring sessions”,A little habit you’ve picked up ever since that one rainy day in July. Ghost had just come back from a mission and you both wanted to soak in as much of the other as possible, just bask in one another’s presence. Three months with nothing more then a letter exchange here and there, you were gonna enjoy as much time with your boyfriend as possible.

You remember lightly stroking his arm as you curiously asked him why all of his tattoos were so dull.

~*~

“Pardon?” He questions if he heard you right.

“Your tattoos, all of them are just black. There’s no color.” Your eyes still haven’t left where you are softly tracing one of his tattoos, a depiction of an assault rifle rapped in thorns.

He raises his other tattooed arm for inspection, as if he had forgotten what it looked like.

“I don’t need em’ all flashy. Besides,” he shrugs,”Think they look better this way.”

You make a noise of disagreement, shaking your head, until a thought seems to strike you, raising your head from where it was previously laying on his shoulder, eyes looking up at him with a mischievous glint.

“Wanna bet?” Is all he gets before you bolt out of his grip, standing up to dig through the bedside drawer, grabbing a case of markers out before diving back into bed, a little too excitedly seeing as how the whole thing rocked.

You hold the case up to him as a kid would show a crayon drawing to their parents.

He stares at the markers before flicking his eyes to you.

“What are ya doin’?

You completely ignore him as you smile, a little manically, and turn to grab his arm and get to work.

He may have complained, but he never stopped you.

And he would never admit it out loud, but it did look kinda cool

It also put him to sleep

~*~

And now your little “coloring sessions” have become a bit of a recurring thing.

Sick and stuck in bed? He gives you his arm.

That time of the month and you’re curled under the covers with cramps? He’s already grabbing the markers for you.

Just having a bit of a lazy cuddle session? You’re instinctually grabbing his arm.

Today, it’s the third option. He had once again just got home from a mission and, though not as long as some of his other send offs, it still seemed way too long to you. You were sitting against one another, your back to his chest, one arm hugging you to him, the other clutched in your grasp as you fill in his uncolored tattoos with your pack of markers. His masked face was pressed against the side of your head as he watched your hands delicately glide the marker across his skin, sometimes throwing in a cheeky comment or two about how a certain color didn’t go somewhere, which earned him a slap to the thigh.

You finished filling in the rose near his elbow, moving further down towards his hand, but something catches your eye.

You’d done this countless times now, you probably know his tattoos better than he does at this point. You know that the ink goes a little off line on his skull tattoo, you know that there’s a little stray mark beside the oak tree on his bicep. You know every detail and mistake.

That’s how you know this wasn’t here before.

It’s a small little heart on the inside of his wrist, not filled in because of course it isn’t.

You bring it up closer to your face for inspection, and that’s when you notice it

The writing inside.

Y/n

It…was your name?

You whip around to look back at him with questioning eyes.

The mask completely covered the lower part of his face,though his eyes gave away the soft smirk lurking beneath.

“The boys wanted to celebrate the win. Tattoos were Mactavish’s idea.” Bastards trying to be all nonchalant about it.

“But-but, why this?” You shove his own arm into his face, like he didn’t already know what was on it.

He shrugs,”Racked my brain for an idea, but, seems you’re the only thing on my mind these days. Couldn’t get ya out of my head-“

He huffs as you plow into him with a hug, immediately engulfing you in his muscled arms.

Simon never was one for excessive pda or poetic words, rather he showed love through his actions. Attempting to cook for you, making you bubble baths, bringing you heating pads and medicine for your cramps. And this was just another one added to the list, maybe the best of them all in your opinion, cause a tattoo-a tattoo’s pretty dang permanent. In his mind, you know, this is his promise of forever to you. His version of a promise ring.

There’s no tears shed, you never were much of a crier, but the emotions were definitely felt. The warmth, the happiness, the love, all of it was basically drowning you at this point.

“You know tattoo removals hurt right?” You lean away enough to look him in the eye,”Like-like what happens if this doesn’t work out, if you decide you’re tired of me,I don’t know, piggy backing you all the time or something and you have to go get this covered?” You motion to his arm.

It’s said as a joke, but he can still somehow detect the hint of serious worry in your voice.

He lightly grabs you under the chin,”Sweetheart, if I let a catch like you go then I deserve the pain.”

Alright you know you said you weren’t a crier, but that might have brought some moisture to your eye.

He doesn’t even try and stop you as your reach to roll the mask up to his nose, a testament of how much he trusts you. Overwhelmed with emotions, you tenderly cup his face to pull him into a kiss.

It’s slow and gentle, just a smooth glide of your lips against his. His hands gently rubbing up and down your sides. You lovingly gliding your thumb across his light stubble, breathing in his musky cologne. Although intense, the kiss contains absolutely no heat, no sexual insinuation. Instead, you feel only one thing.

Love

“I love you.” You relay breathlessly as you pull away, gently knocking your forehead against his.

You share a few breathes before he replies

“I….care, about you too,” you slap his arm with an unimpressed look,”Kidding! Of course I bloody love you, got your name tattooed on my arm for gosh sa-

You cut him off with another kiss.

~*~

Bonus:

You were once again laid on the bed, squished up against his side with a thick arm wrapped around your shoulder. Your eyes caught sight of your name engraved in his skin.

You smirk at the sight,”You know,” you break silence, catching his attention away from the tv,”It would have looked better if you had gotten the heart filled in with red.”

He’s a little confused for a second before catching your line of sight. He rolls his eyes, jostling you slightly as he sat up to reach beside the bed. Now you’re the one confused.

“Well, if that was the case,” he rolls back over to present you with a red marker,”You wouldn’t get to do it yourself, now would ya’?”

You grab the marker, sparing glances between it and the proud look on Simon’s face.

Your man, This man really got a tattoo with the intent for you to do your silly little coloring on it.

Yep, definitely love him.

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #call of duty #ghost cod #reader insert #ghost fluff #fluff #writers on tumblr #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #x y/n

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Thomas' fingers

Description | You have a sudden realisation about Thomas... and the way his fingers move.

Content | Smut, fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas Raggi

Word count | 4300

***

It hadn't supposed to happen. This… realisation. Not after years and years of being friends, not after years and years of seeing them everyday, then every week, then every month, as they rose to stardom. There was simply no reason for any of this to bubble up below the surface, rise and rise, and breach your line of consciousness now. But it did. It did, as you were sitting in an expensive seat at the arena, eyes transfixed on the screens that showed a detailed close up of Thomas’ fingers as he played his perfect solo.

You had seen it, watched him, hundreds of times before, probably quite literally that often if you added up all shows, impromptu sessions, rehearsals that you'd attended over the course of your friendship. Had gotten countless opportunities to study him, learn him by heart, but somehow, this overwhelmingly important detail had passed you by without notice and all of a sudden, you couldn’t tell how.

If someone were to ask you, afterwards, what song had been playing at the exact moment it all changed in your brain, you would have been at a complete loss. All that seemed to matter was keeping your eyes on the screen, wishing you could be close enough to see it for real, silently lamenting all the chances you’d had without making use of them, as Thomas’ fingers continued moving over and with the strings, and you wondered if you’d ever seen something that beautiful.

Any hope of behaving normally when the show was over went straight out of the window as you made your way backstage, immediately bumping into a sweaty but deliriously happy Thomas, who almost knocked you over in the process, only just managing to hold onto your wrist, his other hand quickly finding the small of your back, pulling you back.

“You okay?” he laughed, easily, carelessly, but your brain was going and going and going and whirling with the sensations of how his fingers wrapped around your wrist so easily, slender and careful and rough at the same time.

His face was too close to you, eyes trailing over yours. You could feel the heat emerging from his body, could smell it on him, the exertion of two hours on stage, his chest bare, acutely aware of how you were pressed against it. Never had you ever wanted Thomas, had never even considered it in earnest, jokes about hooking up with one or the other member of the band flying around easily, but none of it seemed as funny now.

“No,” you sighed back, then immediately realised what you said and how his breath was hitting your skin and untangled yourself from him. “I mean, yes. Of course.”

“Having a normal one, you two?” Damiano asked as he passed by, giving you a much-needed opportunity to remove yourself from the situation and you took it gratefully.

“Oh, always,” you replied, not with a lot of conviction and followed him towards their dressing rooms, hoping for Ethan and Vic to join you sooner or later. Anything that kept you from being alone with Thomas as your heart went on a rollercoaster so fast it almost made you sick.

Your wish wasn’t granted.

As Damiano disappeared into the room, Thomas snuck an arm around your waist, holding you steady and steering you away. You didn’t have it in you to protest or fight it, letting the man lead you into a different room, letting him close the door behind the two of you, letting your breathing even out as much as you could. It didn’t last for long when you turned around and once again caught sight of his bare chest, a singular drop of sweat finding its way along his nipple and towards his soft belly.

“Are you sure nothing happened?” he finally asked, drawing your eyes away from their tantalising view and up towards his face. “Normally you’re as ecstatic as we are when we get off stage but tonight you’re just… quiet.” He mustered your face, as if he could find any clues in it. You could feel a blush threatening to rise. You had never been this awkward in his presence, but now that you were, you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. “I’m just worried. If you want to talk, I’m here, or I can get Vic for you or-”

“Everything’s fine,” you interrupted him in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. What would you normally do in this situation? It seemed like your brain wouldn’t provide you with the necessary information. Hug him, you subconscious whispered to you. Touch him the way you would any other day of your life.

But it wasn’t any other day of your life and as much as your fingers itched to reach out to him, a different part of you was screaming at the implications of it all. But his eyes, his eyes, you had never wanted to worry Thomas a day in your life and seeing him now, knowing you were the one to cause these feelings in him, had you fighting against every fibre that convinced you to keep away.

Your hands found his neck, reaching up to softly place them against his skin, thumbs stroking along the rough stubble that was starting to form on his chin again, a familiar move that had never felt stranger before. You wanted to be normal so desperately but all of your moves caused reactions you hadn’t anticipated.

“We’re fine,” you told him, even though he hadn’t explicitly asked. You needed him to know, more than you needed him in that moment. His breath was hitting your face as he leaned in and you fought the part in you that screamed for you to recirpocrate the gesture and the one that wanted to pull away to safe yourself. Instead, you let yourself fall into the moment, just a little bit, let him kiss your temple, let yourself indulge in him with all your senses.

“I don’t think I could handle it if we weren’t,” he whispered in your ear. You couldn’t either, you thought. You really couldn’t.

It’s why you moved away form him, pried your fingers off his face, not letting yourself miss the feeling of his skin under yours, and put on your fakest smile. He didn’t need to know.

***

Two weeks. The band was gone for two weeks, travelling over Europe, doing more shows, promos, no time to come home, and you were left with your thoughts. Well, with your thoughts and too many videos to be found online that had you hyperfocusing on Thomas’ fingers as they played the loveliest of riffs.

You didn’t want to think about the amount of time you spent in your bed, cuddled up underneath blankets, your hands between your legs when you couldn’t take it anymore, time and time again. It was innocent, you told yourself, a simple fantasy, something temporary, you were single and bored, a slight loss of sanity every time you recalled the way Thomas’ fingers curled around your wrist, imagining how it would translate to your neck, your thighs, your breasts. It wouldn’t change anything. Surely.

There were text messages, the odd video call, from all of them. You followed their journey via social media, not quite part of it, but adjacent enough. And you counted the days until they were back, your best friends, the most missed parts of your life when they left, no matter how much you supported and loved them for doing what they were passionate about. Yet you couldn’t help your anticipation growing with every hour until you got to see them again.

***

The party was a mess. You had arrived two - three? - hours ago, falling into the arms of Vic and Damiano immediately, which was followed by chasing down Ethan, who pressed a kiss to your hair and told you he had missed you. Thomas was harder to come by, a quick shout of hello, hi, give me one minute as he was carried away by some of his friends in an apparent effort to get him to do a keg stand (American much?).

Now everyone was drunk or way past it and after dancing to yet another song you didn’t know with Vic, you finally pulled yourself away, accepting the drink that was pushed into your hand on the way, and made your ways outside. The pool in the garden was covered, just in case the cool breeze wasn’t enough to discourage people from jumping in. Your aim, however, was one of the sunchairs at the edge of it. An opportunity to get some air, away from everyone else, and lie down, trying to get the spinning of your head under control.

Sliding down on the lounger a little, you hoped it would hide you from anyone else venturing outside, hide you from the moonlight illuminating you, but it wasn’t to be. You barely had time to move the drink to safety, dripping some of it down your chin and your neck, before a body squeezed onto the space with you, moving you just enough that neither of you would slip off. The armrest was digging into your back, pressed against your spine as you turned to your side to study Thomas.

He was drunk, or on the verge of it, looking back at youwith blurry eyes, strands of his hair falling into his face, he didn’t bother to push them away. He was beautiful like this, wild and carefree and young and a walking, talking temptation. You could feel a drop of alcohol slip from your chin to your chest, having almost forgotten the near disaster with your drink. Thomas’ eyes were trained solely on your skin now.

He discarded his empty beer bottle, the sound almost scaring you as the glass hit the ground, but your focus was set on him, his fingers, the way they were reaching for you now as everything else faded into background noise. The urge to flinch was barely suppresible as his fingertips touched your chin and ran along the length of your neck, delicately tracing the way the alcohol droplets had taken, until they reached the edge of your shirt, stopping just moments before they would hit the fabric. They left a line of goosebumps in their wake as your body was set aflame, your breathing growing heavier.

Quickly, he scooped up some of the liquid that had pooled there, wiping it off with his finger, before bringing it to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick it away. You hated how audibly you reacted to him, a little whimper, saying so much more than any words ever could. For a moment, you wondered if he was going to put it in his mouth, give you even more of a visual than you were already getting treated to, but then he dipped it into the liquid again and held it out to you.

Your brain wasn’t quite catching up with you, leaving you in a stupor as you stared back and forth between Thomas’ finger, dripping with liquid, and his face, an anticipating look painted all over it, his own mouth slightly open, watching you just as intently. He tapped against your lower lip and as if on command, you opened up for him, letting his finger press down on your tongue, the taste of your drink mingling with his own.

The switch was tangible as you curled your tongue around his finger, closing your lips to swallow more of it into your mouth. If you hadn’t been sure if the attraction was one-sided before, you suddenly had the clearest indicator that it wasn’t. Thomas didn’t attempt to hide his moan. Fueled by a new kind of confidence, you grabbed onto his hand, leading another finger towards you, letting it join the first one. His movements were uncoordinated, restless, his hips rutting against nothing but clear air between you.

Thomas leaned over, his fingers still firmly planted in your mouth as you lost yourself in the taste and the feeling, pressing his lips against your cheek, carefully, then onto your chin with more force, travelling down and down your neck. You arched against him, gasped around his fingers, exposing more of your neck to him as you turned your head, his tongue licking a long stripe against your skin.

You didn’t know what would have happened, out there, squeezed together on the sun lounger, intertwined in ways you had never been before, but whatever you imagined didn’t matter because none of it happened right then and there. With a loud crash, the background noise came back to you twice as loud as it had been before, it tore you apart in shock.

“Where the fuck is Thomas?” a voice called from inside, then the sound of the door to the backyard being opened. Thomas moved away from you in an instant, jumping up from where you were laying. He spared you one more look, somewhere between surprised and disappointed, before running inside.

You stayed right where you were, trying to catch your breath and silently committing the view of the way his trousers had tightened to your mind forever.

***

“Please tell me that Thomas isn’t cooking,” you exclaimed as you stopped in front of his house with Vic. All you knew was that you’d been invited for an evening of food with the boys as she had picked you up at your place and led you through the streets of Rome.

“Oh god, no,” she replied quickly. “Damiano wants to cook, but his kitchen is being remodeled and Thomas’ is as good as new, ‘cause he never uses it.”

“Alright, I’ll close the food delivery app then.”

The chaos was already in full swing by the time you both arrived in his apartment. Damiano was screaming at Thomas to get the hell away from the stuff as the other desperately attempted to sneak a taste, spoon in hand and halfway to the pot of sauce simmering. The splatter of red against the kitchen tiles told you it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ethan, meanwhile, was speeding around the table in the middle of the room, desperately trying to catch up with Thomas and keep him from causing more havoc.

In an instant, however, Thomas spotted you, almost climbing over a chair that had been pulled back to get to you. Effectively using you as a human shield, he hid behind your back, arm wrapped around your middle to keep you in place as he ducked his head down, trying to make up for the height difference.

“Don’t!” he shouted. “She’s innocent! Don’t let her get caught up in the war!”

“You’re the one who’s putting her in the middle of the battlefield,” Damiano replied dryly.

“Well, love is a battlefield too, isn’t it?” Thomas pulled you back further his other arm reaching around your shoulders now, hand flat against your chest, just underneath your neck. Your skin was tingling at the contact, you found yourself pressing backwards against him against better judgement.

“That makes no sense,” Vic judged, “but you do you, I’ll set the table for whenever you’re done with… that.” She gestured towards the two of you. You almost spoke up, almost tried to explain your way out of it or laugh it up but Thomas simply said “Got it” and walked the two of you backwards until you were out of sight. His hands on you the whole time.

“Hey you,” Thomas whispered in your ear, too close for comfort and not close enough at the same time, pressing a kiss against the side of your face as he held you.

“Hey,” you breathed back, entirely distracted by the way his fingers trailed upwards. “Missed you.”

“Missed you more.”

You gasped, audibly, as they slowly started caressing your neck, softly at first, then moving to wrap around it. Keeping you safe and secure, the only lifeline as you felt yourself falling apart. A little squeeze.

“You love my fingers everywhere, don’t you?”

You didn’t have it in you to disagree. The whimper gave you away as he grasped onto you a little tighter, leaving you breathless in more than one way.

“Maybe we should find out what they feel like in other places, too.”

The arm that was slung around your waist suddenly moved, grazing the fabric of your dress, almost, almost going between your legs, moving over your thigh, and then suddenly, all you felt was a freezing cold in the places he had touched you as he let go completely. He took a step back, but you didn’t manage to turn around, didn’t manage to move, check his face.

Instead, all that left your mouth in the most pathetically broken voice was, “I think dinner’s ready.”

***

The realisation, the lingering thoughts, the pining, the flirting. You didn’t expect the resolution to come in the middle of the night, but it did, in the form of a knock and whisper of It’s me through the door. He looked tired, sleepy even, and you were pretty sure he was wearing pyjama pants. Had he come here straight from home? Had he been in bed already? When he realised that whatever was on his mind was important enough to deal with right there and then?

You let him in without words, unsure of where to go or what to do, both of you left standing in the small hallway, looking at each other in the dark, trying to figure it all out through nothing but the way the other’s eyes glimmered.

“Can I?” Thomas asked. You didn’t know what he meant, didn’t know what he was referring to, what he wanted, but you nodded, always, anything. It didn’t matter. What had started with a friendship and had been interrupted by a sudden urge was evolving into something more, something more tangible, something everlasting with lightning speed. You allowed him to take the reigns.

He pushed you against the wall, gently enough not to hurt you, but his fingers were pressing into your hips in a way that had you feeling it in your bones. You melted under his touch and then, then his lips were on yours, finally, and it was perfect in a way that made you want to cry. You clawed at his back as you pulled him closer. You had been wanting this for so long, possibly so much longer than you had been actively aware of, that this felt like a release.

You couldn’t tell how you made it into the bedroom at all, your thoughts deeply clouded with nothing but Thomas, Thomas, Thomas but then you were on your back, sinking into the mattress, and your top was being pulled off and you couldn’t get your fingers to stop shaking enough to get him out of his own clothes as well. He didn’t seem to mind as he tenderly removed every piece of fabric covering your body, fingers and lips exploring what he exposed.

As he leaned back, throwing his shirt somewhere into the depths of your room, he stopped in his tracks, studying your body, the way your chest heaved with every shaky breath, how your hands were already reaching for him again, craving the closeness. He looked utterly breathtaking, pale, soft skin, every hair on his chest leading you down, down, down, your hands in his hair, nothing but an insatiable need in his eyes.

Carefully, his fingers traced invisible lines on you, your cheek, over your mouth, not allowing you to open up enough to get a taste of him, your chin, your neck, a hint of the grasp he’d had on your earlier, down to your breasts, feather-light touches on your nipples, down your stomach.

“Where do you want them?”

Your eyes darted between his fingers and his face and you knew that he knew. Had figured out your obsession, your constant thoughts, your innate need.

Your reply came in the form of your legs falling further apart, thighs spreading, inviting him between them. Thomas gave you the faintest smirk, already preoccupied with fulfilling your wish as utter concentration filled his face. You weren’t sure if it were down to him being insecure, unsure whether he could satisfy you appropriately - because as soon as he touched you, right there, you were reduced to a moaning mess, unable to keep any noises to yourself, all silent fantasies finally answered as he traced along your wetness and finally, finally pushed a finger into you.

Your hands fell from his body momentarily, letting yourself fall into the sensation that surpassed every single night you’d laid in bed and imagined this very moment, had tried to recreate it with your own fingers, unsuccessfully, as you now found. Nothing could come close to the real thing.

Leaning back down towards you, the angle of his wrist changed ever so slightly, making his finger slide inside of you even more perfectly. You desperately clawed at his back, silently begging for more, only to feel all air leave your lungs as he let another finger join at the same time as he put his lips against your neck. He immediately stilled, seemingly alarmed by your lack of vocalisation, but all you could do was whisper pleas into his ear and pull him back into you.

Your hands wandered lower, clumsily, and distracted with every single one of his movements, until they found his trousers, trying to push them down but failing miserably. Thomas let go of you, carefully pulling his fingers out, leaving you to cry out at the loss, already missing his warmth, the stretch. He made quick work of the rest of his clothes, barely giving you a moment to take in the view, to realise you finally had him all to yourself, naked and perfect, before he was back on the bed with you.

You moved to push him down, reaching for his hard cock, but he pressed you back into the mattress, gentle fingers ready to leave bruises.

“I just want to be in you,” he breathed. All you could do was kiss him, again and again, and tell him to do it. With a quick grab, you managed to get a condom out of the nightstand, handing it to him with shaky hands that had nothing to do with nervousness. He took it from you, letting you watch as he put it on.

Thomas’ whimpers composed symphonies in your ear, his dick gottenyour thighs, his hand holding onto it, pushing inside of you. If his fingers had had you close to seeing heaven, you were sure you were transcending into paradise now. Wrapping your arms and your legs around him, you pulled him closer, closer, almost making it too difficult for him to actually move, but your brain was focused on nothing but Thomas and the way his skin felt against you, the way his breath was hitting the shell of your ear in harsh bursts, the way he felt inside of you.

You were unravelling embarrassingly quickly as he picked up his speed, fucking you fast and hard, but you had no time feeling unconscious about anything, not with Thomas making you feel like this, moaning into your ear, getting closer himself. You just about managed to squeeze a hand between the two of you, touching yourself through the impossibly close contact, and within moments, you were barrelling towards your release.

When you came undone, it was like a flood you hadn’t known to be held back inside of you finally breaking out, the sensation travelling through your body, letting you feel it deep in every single bone of your body from your toes to your skull, vibrating with the intensity of it, unsure where you ended and Thomas began as he, too, came, harshly grabbing onto your flesh.

You felt yourself stuck in a trance, barely registering when Thomas pulled out, laid down next to you on the bed, held you close. Your breathing seemed to take forever to calm down, as did the beating of your heart, but when both finally did and the world shifted into focus again, it seemed clearer and sharper than ever before.

He gently ran his hand down your face and turned it towards himself, you were more than happy to oblige, putting your lips on his. You couldn’t get enough of him. You weren’t sure if you ever would.

“When did you know?” he asked, quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you wanted me back.”

“Wait-” You sat up a little, propping yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him, but he simply pulled you back into him and pressed another kiss to your mouth. “Wait, want you back?” You studied his face but you found no lie in it. “I had no idea you liked me.”

“I’m in love with you,” he smiled

You couldn’t quite say it back, not yet. As intense and deep as your feelings ran, for you, this was new and delicate and on the edge of scary. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to catch on.” His lips so soft against yours. You suddenly couldn’t recall how you had ever not been falling in love with him, had ever thought anyone else could have been that one person for him but you. Now you couldn’t ever imagine not knowing. “I’ll make up for it, forever, if you let me.”

His hand on the back of your head was holding onto you securely and where the sensation of his fingers had only brought lust and need before you could now feel it intertwine itself with something that was so much more.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

***

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#thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi smut #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggi fiction #thomas raggi imagine #mywriting

[stargirlaveblog]

7Seals

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Chapter 11*

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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Ten

•Next Chapter: Chapter Twelve

• Chapter List

• New chapters every Thursday

•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

• Word Count: 2.5k

• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter. This chapter does contain themes of abuse. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with that topic.

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Decode - Paramore

1:00 ━❍────── 3:22

↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺

VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

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Levi's Perspective

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845

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"Can you slow down?" Her irritating voice echoed behind me as we navigated the halls.

"No," I snapped, rolling my eyes.

"Did you forget my rib is broken?" She complained, footsteps hastening.

"Weren't you just blabbering about being good in two weeks?" I retorted, annoyed.

"Yeah, two weeks. Not today," she groaned.

"I don't care. Hurry up," I barked. Erwin better be in his damn office, or this could turn into a colossal waste of my time. I didn't want to chance it being too late.

"Too late for what?" She said, running beside me while clutching her stomach.

Damn it, did I say that out loud?

"Nothing. Just keep going."

I've stared at that smug face countless times and never once noticed anything unusual.

If he's genuinely from the underground, how the hell did he surface? There's a reason for his secrecy, but why does Iris know? Is she in cahoots with him? Is she just his pawn?

"Erwin," I grunted, opening the door to his office.

"A firm knock works well, Levi," Erwin said, seated at his desk, the fire casting eerie shadows as he stood up. "Greetings, Iris."

"Alexander is from the underground," I declared to Erwin, cutting through the pleasantries. No need for useless banter; I wasn't here for amusement. Damn it, I had better things to do. But instead I had to involve myself with these shitheads.

Erwin's fake smile faded instantly, and his focus shifted to Iris.

"Is this true?" Erwin's stern question hung in the air.

"Yes, sir," Iris answered him.

"This changes things," I muttered, eyes narrowing at the unfolding situation.

"Drastically," Erwin replied, his gaze fixed on the world beyond his office window.

"Then I'm guessing you haven't heard the news yet?"

"What news?" I questioned, a wave of confusion washing over me.

What the hell did I miss while I was away? If it was crucial, someone should have tracked me down.

"Two more scouts were found dead this morning," Erwin dropped the bombshell. "Throats slit."

"What time?" I demanded. "How come no one notified me?"

"Sometime around noon. I sent someone to your office as soon as I found out," Erwin informed me.

"Wait, what?" Iris interjected, but both Erwin and I ignored her.

"You think it's connected?" I asked, suspicion creeping in.

"Both missing ODM gear. Just like last time," Erwin disclosed, turning to Iris once again. "Where was Alexander this morning?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered, her gaze flickering between Erwin and me.

"Where were you around noon?" Erwin pressed.

"I- I don't really know," she stuttered again. "I was training, and then I got hurt."

"Bullshit," I cut in, crossing my arms. She had been out of my sight for an hour today. "Recall everything you did—every person you interacted with, down to how you took a damn shit. Don't leave a single detail out."

"You were with me all morning," she protested, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"Except twice," Erwin said. "When you arrived and left my office. I timed you on your arrival; your departure, I'm unaware of."

"I went straight back and forth. No detours," Iris insisted, her eyes reddening with confusion.

"I find that hard to believe," I countered, fixing her with a piercing gaze.

"Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?" Iris demanded, irritation etched across her face.

Erwin and I exchanged a glance before turning our attention back to the increasingly frustrated girl. Her once-bright jade eyes now betrayed a mix of anger and something more elusive. Was she truly in the dark, or was she playing the fool? Her eyes held secrets.

"Stop playing dumb," I groaned at her. "We both know you didn't break your rib during practice." She moved closer, anger evident but an underlying fear betrayed by her eyes.

"I'm not playing dumb, Captain," she gritted through her teeth.

I stepped even closer, looming over her. Her newfound courage amused me, and a smirk threatened to escape.

"Watch yourself, cadet," I warned, relishing the moment. "Wouldn't want to end up with another broken rib."

"Stand down," Erwin's voice commanded, but she didn't yield. Iris stood defiantly, her angered eyes locked onto mine.

She was a stubborn brat if I'd ever seen one.

"Both of you," Erwin repeated. I shot a disapproving look at Erwin. Being kind won't get anything out of this girl. She's too damn stubborn. I stepped back, and Iris finally followed suit.

"Iris," Erwin addressed her. "How did you manage to break your rib?"

"I fell last night," she claimed.

"Stop fucking lying," I snapped at her. "How did you break your rib?"

Before she could answer, the door burst open, and Hange came running in.

"Commander!" they yelled, scanning the room. "Levi! Iris! I haven't seen you two in a while. What are you guys doing here?"

Getting distracted once again. Classic Hange.

"Hange," Erwin reminded them.

"Oh, right!" they said, saluting Erwin. "Two out of the three MPs have been arrested. We can't locate the other one at the moment, but—"

Erwin cut them off. "I'm afraid we won't catch the other anytime soon, assuming they're already alerted and planning to flee."

"What were their names?" I asked. Out of the four people I saw in the underground with Alexander, I needed to know who they caught.

"Officers Jinshi and Raymond have been apprehended," Hange said. "Carter is still on the loose."

"The woman? You let her go?" I said, frustration lacing my words. Who was she? Why has no one seen her before?

"We have no idea who she is. All we have is your description," Hange said.

It infuriated me. Loose ends. Always damn loose ends. I turned to Erwin. "What's our next move?"

Erwin's gaze met mine, a storm brewing in those blue eyes. "We need to find Alexander."

Hange chimed in, "And we're looking into more possible connections between the MPs and the underground activities."

I clenched my fists, a heavy feeling settling in my gut. This tangled web was getting more complex by the minute, and I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that Alexander knew more than he let on. Just how much though? At what cost?

I need to keep an eye on Iris. Whether she was a pawn or a player, she held answers, and I intended to find them.

"Iris," Erwin said sternly. "Do you recognize the names we spoke?"

A heavy silence settled in the room. Why the hell is she silent now?

My fist slammed down on the table, demanding a response.

"Fucking answer," I barked at her. I watched her flinch, throwing a hand over her face.

"Levi," Erwin's voice warned.

"Yes," her voice quivered. "They were all best friends in training. Alexander sees them whenever he goes to Wall Sina."

"Very good. Thank you," Erwin acknowledged. "When was the last time he went to Wall Sina?"

"Last night, I think," she mumbled.

Last night? Alexander was in the damn underground, not Wall Sina. Is this another layer of his deceit? Why does she persist in lying to us? What the hell is she gaining from this?

I couldn't shake the feeling that Iris was entangled in a complex web of deception. Her hesitant responses and half-truths hinted at deeper involvement. The stakes were climbing, and I needed to unravel the truth before the whole damn thing tightened around us.

"Stop fucking lying," I bellowed, my face inches from hers. She stubbornly kept her eyes shut, a futile attempt to shield herself from the reality she couldn't escape.

"Levi," Hange's voice rose in protest.

"Levi, that's enough," Erwin's command cut through the tension, his grip on my shoulder pulling me away forcefully. But my frustration burned hotter than ever.

"Someone please. Tell me what's going on," she pleaded, her tears now a torrential stream. Fingers tangled in her unruly hair, she seemed to be unraveling.

"We have good reason to believe Alexander is a black market dealer in the underground. He's been stealing our equipment. We heightened security, but four Scouts have been murdered, ODM gear stolen," Erwin calmly laid out the damning truth.

Her tears hesitated, suspended in the air. Then, a violent shake of her head denied the allegations. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her stomach. Each sob seemed to echo the weight of the revelations, a heavy burden she couldn't bear.

"Please, Aldridge," Erwin pleaded, desperation lining his voice, but she disregarded it, storming out of the room with a slammed door punctuating her exit. The haunting echo lingered, amplifying the weight of the truth left unspoken.

This woman is nothing but trouble. I tried to follow her, but Erwin's firm grip on my arm halted my pursuit.

"Let her go, Levi," he urged, a knowing look in his eyes.

"What? Why? She's just going straight to Alexander," I protested, my frustration mounting.

"Exactly. She will learn the truth from him. She doesn't believe us now, but she will later," Erwin calmly asserted, a master strategist contemplating the next move.

"Don't tell me you bought that whole show she put on," I grumbled, unconvinced.

"It's obvious she doesn't know," Hange added. "You were way too hard on her."

"I was the only one being reasonable," I insisted, my determination clashing with their reassurances.

"You were being ridiculous," Erwin retorted, his calm demeanor rubbed against the storm brewing within me.

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"So, you just want us to wait here?" I grumbled at Erwin, my impatience bubbling beneath the surface.

"Precisely," he responded, a maddening calmness in his voice. We lingered outside Alexander's door, the hushed whispers within taunting us. Waiting felt like a pathetic charade. Why not just barge in?

Erwin rested his hand on my shoulder, leaning in to share his annoying pearls of wisdom.

"What do you hear? Is it cordial or insincere? Listen to her voice."

I shot him a disdainful look. What difference did it make? Yet, he urged me forward, pushing me to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Against the door, I strained to capture the unfolding drama. Erwin's method felt like a futile exercise in patience, but I complied.

"Just get your shit and let's go," Alexander's whisper cut through.

"No," Iris's voice, defiant and resolute, fought back. "I have something going for me here. You might not, but I do. I don't want any part of whatever the hell you are doing."

A sharp smack resonated through the door, followed by an ominous stumble.

"You stupid bitch," he snarled. "You thought I was giving you a choice? We are leaving."

The words hung in the air like an impending storm, and I could sense that beneath the surface, a tempest was brewing—one that threatened to shatter the fragile peace we clung to.

"No." Her voice, a sharp blade cutting through the air, declared defiance. "I am not going with you. You don't get to dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

The room hung suspended in silence, pregnant with tension. What dark theater of conflict played out behind that door? She was never a willing participant in his malevolent schemes; she was just the unintended casualty in his twisted narrative.

"Ow! You fucking bitch!" Alexander's enraged outburst reverberated, accompanied by the unsettling sound of coughing. Whose desperate breaths were those? The uncertainty clawed at me as chaos erupted within the room—objects crashing, glass shattering. Did he lay his hands on her?

Glancing at Erwin, I sought answers in his eyes, but he signaled restraint. The inexplicable scene played out, leaving me seething with restrained fury.

"Explain to me what's happening?" Erwin demanded, urgency coloring his tone.

"She's—" I began, struggling to articulate the storm of emotions.

"Calm down, Levi. Tell me what's going on in there. Clear your head," Erwin directed.

"He's- fuck- they're arguing," I gritted out. "She's just a puppet."

The door handle jiggled ominously. Erwin motioned us into the shadows of another hall, leaving me with a simmering frustration. Why the hesitation? Why not seize them now? Unanswered questions lingered, intensifying the enigmatic spectacle unfolding before us.

"Come on, you stupid bitch," Alexander spat, dragging Iris down the dimly lit hallway. My irritation flared, and I sidestepped Erwin, positioning myself to observe the twisted spectacle. Alexander, with his hand firmly on her neck and the other cruelly manipulating her left arm, appeared to have picked up a trick or two from my own repertoire. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Iris abruptly halted, locking eyes with Alexander. Tears streamed down her face, the terror etched into every quivering fiber. She didn't want to go.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alexander's anger reverberated through the corridor.

In a surge of defiance, Iris shoulder-checked Alexander, breaking free momentarily. However, her escape was short-lived as Alexander swiftly reined her in. Her desperate cries echoed, a haunting soundtrack to the scene unfolding.

"Be fucking quiet," he snarled, muffling her protests with a callous hand over her mouth. Against the cold, unforgiving wall, she became a mere pawn in his relentless game.

I shot a glance back at Erwin, once again waiting for his signal, but his eyes still signaled restraint. We remained concealed in the shadows, silent witnesses to this grim scene.

"You're a witness," Alexander hissed, his words dripping with malevolence. "You're coming with me. Be a good little whore and work for me."

Her face twisted in agony, each word from his venomous lips tightening his grip around her fragile throat.

"You'll fetch me a good sum. Perhaps your pretty boy will join you in the brothel. If you're lucky, he won't even recognize that face after I'm through."

The glimmer in her eyes faded, replaced by an all-encompassing fear that resonated with a primal part of me. Her desperate gaze sought mine, and a surge of raw fury coursed through my veins, urging me to intervene.

Before I could act, he heartlessly flung her to the cold floor, a swift kick targeting the already fractured ribs. Rage boiled within me, a visceral need to tear him away from her.

Emerging from the shadows, I confronted him, a tempest of red consuming my vision. Each punch was a declaration of my disdain, the muffled symphony of blows echoing the violence of the moment.

As hands yanked me back, a red curtain descended, obscuring the world. I pushed against the unseen barrier, my determination unwavering.

"Levi, breathe," Erwin's voice sliced through the frenzy, a grounding force against the crimson tide. The brick wall met my back as his firm arm pressed into my chest, a stark reminder of the brutal reality unfolding.

Amidst the echoes of Iris's slow sobs, a tempest of fury churned within me, yearning for Alexander's demise. I envisioned my fists soaked in his blood, relishing the sweet symphony of his final gasps. The desire for his death consumed me entirely.

Erwin's piercing gaze attempted to anchor me, his blue eyes reflecting my simmering rage. But indifference shrouded my senses; all I craved was the end of Alexander.

"Iris?" The name tumbled from my lips like an unbidden plea.

On the floor, Iris clung to her tormentor, her sobs intertwining with the chilling aftermath. Hange measured Alexander's pulse, while Miche struggled to detach Iris from the gruesome scene.

"Her ribs. Don't hold her like that."

"She needs medical," urgency coated my words, slicing through the suffocating tension. "Now."

Erwin sought to tether me against the wall, assuring medical attention for Iris. Disregarding his restraint, I surged toward her. Her labored breaths and the shift from fear to pain in her gaze compelled me to act. As I knelt beside her, an unsettling question lingered—

why was I entangled in the web of saving her?

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#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi aot #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #snk levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi fluff #levi angst #levi x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #ackerman #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #snk fanfiction #hange zoe #erwin smith #levi ackerman aot #attack on titan x reader

[kin-the-muffin]

i currently have a half-baked theory about alastor…

ok so in the finale, he said that he wants freedom, meaning he has been restricted in some way. but as far as we’ve seen and can tell, he is basically free to do as he wishes. and of course there’s the theory with lilith being the one owning his soul, which he might have traded away to gain such insane amounts of power. but what has he ever done that didn’t seem to be in his best interest?

charlie.

yea, yea, i hear you and your sassy clips of him saying he’s helping the hotel simply for boredom’s sake and that he enjoys watching people try to do something meaningful but then fail in the process but! that would imply that he’d done so before, but we have never, not once, ever heard that he even dabbled in such a thing. (and don’t you dare try to tell me that he actually cares about charlie, the man is the most manipulative, sadistic little mf i’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because i’ve seen miraculous ladybug and hate liela rossi as much as anyone else.) the only things we know about his past is that he appeared in hell very suddenly with lots of power, he toppled countless overlords overnight, and his radio podcast killed tons of demons. nothing of this has to do with other beings in hell trying to make it better (as i highly doubt any of those overlords had good intentions since they were, well, overlords). but he doesn’t seem the type to do things meaninglessly, he always has ulterior motives.

but then if his excuses of entertainment are as flimsy as i’m making them out to be then why would he ever help charlie? well, i think that brings us back to lilith. it’s far from a rarely-noticed detail that the length of alastor and her’s disappearances were for the same amount of time and while we know that lilith spent that time in heaven (if that even is lilith, but idk enough about that theory so i’m just gonna assume that it’s her and that she’s been in heaven the whole time), we don’t have a smack-dab CLUE as to what alastor was up to during his vacay. then he just shows up out of nowhere, at the idealistic princess of hell’s doorstep of all places.

well, i’ve had a sneaking suspicion for a while that lilith’s deal (at least part of it), in exchange for his power, was to help charlie in some way. i’m thinking that’s why he seemed so torn-up about how he almost ‘died for his friends’. he doesn’t care for any of them (except maybe nifty but i think that’s just bonding over shared mania (i think rosie (and maybe zestial) is the only one he truly, honestly cares about, but i get the feeling that even that relationship is pretty business-based)).

we have no idea what lilith is like, we have absolutely zero characterization of her except for what charlie explains about her in episode 1, that she’s passionate and hardworking and stubborn and independent—qualities that charlie mostly has in abundance. so i would say that she’s cared about charlie this whole time but due to whatever is keeping her in heaven, she can’t help her, except that lilith seems a little too malevolent to care about charlie’s hotel. why would she? she fell in love with a dreamer who shared her rebellious heart and for this, she was the first human soul cast into hell. she has never had any kind of reason as to why she would ever want to go to heaven, or anyone else for that matter (as she did work to make hell into the semi-civil place it is now). and we have no idea how close she and charlie were before she left (i suspect we’ll learn more about that in season 2), so we can’t assume that she’ll just support charlie, whatever her aspirations may be. so i honestly have no idea as to why lilith would enlist alastor to help charlie, but i am fairly convinced that this is the case of what’s happened.

thoughts?

#kin’s rambles #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #also the fact that husk never noted his seven-year absence is…suspicous to say the least #he never made a quip like ‘dangit i thought youd finally died’ or anything that implied he’d known #maybe alastor was just keeping a low profile but needed to continue business and thus kept contact with a few of his contracted souls? #then again mimzy never mentioned his absence either… and i dont think rosie did #idk whats up with this man but dangit i hope we get answers

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ?

❝ can you hear the silence? can you see the dark? can you fix the broken? can you feel, can you feel my heart? ❞

yandere! Fake Albedo (Alfredo) x gn! reader.

❤️ synopsis: Your love for Albedo burns brighter than any flame, but what happens when an imposter ruins everything? Furthermore, what else awaits once you start walking side by side with the imposter, only for him to end up falling for you instead?

part i.

I got a little inspired when I was watching the movie "Orphan" even if this really isn't that similar to it. Fake Albedo is really hot and I had to do something for him. Fair warning, he sees you as a parental figure but also as a lover... He's a little messed up but that's why you're here to fix him...! ❤️💀 I'm also calling him Alfredo here because "Fakebedo" just wouldn't work well as a real name. I would also like to apologize for my poor ability of writing natural dialogue in this... That was a ride to come up with.

❤️ Word count: 2k~

Thank you all for 10k followers. You guys really are the best. 💓

The echoes of footsteps rang in your ears as you desperately tried to keep your vision steady and clear, but the endless amounts of ice and snow decided to make that task difficult for you. You had just recently stepped foot into Dragonspine, the urge to help out your friends too strong to stop. Amber had recently complained to you that a lot of strange things had been happening on Dragonspine and while she never dwelled on the details you could tell that something was terribly wrong. You were hardly a seasoned adventurer, if you could be even called one. Most of your commissions stemmed from collecting herbs, helping the locals, keeping guard of trade routes and simply cleaning up the great statue of Barbatos, which would take you countless hours because you did not posses a Vision. Even so you weren't too shabby with a sword and you had been on the icy mountain countless times much to everyone's surprise. Ever since the sudden Stromterror attack on the city you and Albedo became really good friends and he took you under his wing to show you all of the beauty and mysteries the world could offer. You sat through countless lectures, written and read endless theses and notes but you still lusted for more, just as much as Albedo did.

The only difference was, knowledge wasn't the only thing you craved in the long run.

It really wasn't that hard to fall for the alchemist, he was so oddly charming that you couldn't help but to be utterly smitten. He had his quirks that others thought were strange but you adored them, it were those little habits that made Albedo, well, Albedo. You wouldn't change anything about him. Your silent adoration came with a price, a price your poor heart just wasn't ready to pay - you had to suffer all by your lonesome. Albedo clearly did not see you in such a light, you were just a student and a friend to him. You doubted he even noticed your longing stares let alone the frantic beating of your heart.

Being in love was hard.

But not being loved back was even worse.

You silently hoped that by doing these tasks he would notice you, he would see you as his equal and hopefully more but that was asking for too much. You were willing to settle for anything, that's how desperate you were. Dragonspine was more than a training ground to you, it was a chance, a chance for you to seize and conquer the heart of the person you admired the most in this world because if you didn't, it felt as though the earth itself would open and it's jaws would swallow you whole! ...well, that is a bit dramatic but that really was how you felt. Even if you couldn't have him, even if he could not love you, just being by his side should be enough for you. Just seeing his face was more than enough to brighten your day.

Like right now.

Straight ahead a bit higher on the path was Albedo, a small smile on his handsome face face as he outstretched his arm towards you, a sign that he was going to help you climb up further onto the mountain. You hid the blush that creeped up on you with the soft scarf that you wore, he really was a true gentleman. Times like this became incredibly precious to you as he would finally show you his softer side and you would end up falling in love all over again with him. He greeted you kindly and linked your hand with his own as he lead you down the Snow Covered Path towards the campsite, a comfortable silence between the two of you. Despite the wind and chilly ice, the sun was high up in the sky and its rays outstretched far into the horizon, the soft orange hues bathed the tall mountains in a ethereal glow that made you feel so warm on the inside. The company you had also made things even better than they already were.

"You look so happy right now I could almost paint you."

Stopping dead in your tracks you turned to Albedo, his comment had caught you off guard. A bright smile was plastered all over his face, his eyes were glimmering with a mischief that you only saw on a few rare occasions. Still, he never said something like this to you, never.

Archons, was your heart going to explode?

Your stunned silence started to scare him a little so he tried to comfort you by putting his hand on your shoulder, not knowing what kind of impact this entire situation left on you. You swore on your life and everything you ever owned that if a boulder just fell from the sky and crushed you to bits you would die happy.

Making haste you quickly ran in front of him, telling him to hurry up unless he wants to stay here out in the open until the sun sets, making this place even more dangerous than it already was. He laughed a little and caught up with you, making sure to throw some snow at you while he could. The two of you walked like that for a while, just enjoying the scenery and each others company before it was time to buckle up and get serious. It was so refreshing to see him like this, so happy and carefree. He was oddly chatty with you today though, which wasn't too unusual but it was indeed noticable. Albedo usually stated the facts and the truth, with the occasional joke if he was in the mood for it but he seemed to be quite talkative today, not that you complained. He asked you how your day was and what you did, while also sharing his own activities with you. He didn't have a lot of time to paint today unfortunately but he did finally manage to get some of his notes and experiments in order, allowing him for more free time in the upcoming days. Still chatting away with him you made sure to take the turn you usually took to get to his camp but before you could he stopped you by suddenly grabbing your wrist. Odd, you thought to yourself.

"Your camp is right here, isn't it? We always take the turn here, I know we do."

"It is but... I was having some issues so I had to switch locations, unfortunately. Here, come this way instead."

Gripping your wrist a little too tight than you would have liked, Albedo randomly just shoved you into the opposite direction, leaving you confused, downright dazed even. You could have sworn that you saw some fire flickering near the entrance but you couldn't even comment on it with how hard and fast he was going right now. The happy atmosphere shifted into this very tense and awkward one, the sheer quietness was so thick you could almost cut it with a butter knife. Only the sound of your footsteps and of the bustling wind remained. You were tempted to speak up but you ended up opposing the idea as Albedo was in a very troubled mood. Was his camp raided, did someone steal something that wasn't supposed to be seen? Albedo did have quite a lot of strange but powerful things lying around the place, it's possible that someone stole some of his notes or tampered with his projects while he was outside of the hideout. Yes that must be it, you reasoned with yourself. Why else would he be acting like this?

"We're here."

Huh, well that was fast.

The new camp was located on the opposite side of the mountain and it was buried deep inside of a hard to find cave but he was smart enough to leave a few scratch marks on the wall in order for it to be identified. Not so large to be remembered by random travelers but not too small to be forgotten by him either. Quite smart of him, as usual.

Letting go of your hand he offered to take your coat off your hands while you made yourself warmer by the fire. Letting out a sigh of relief you allow the soft flames to tickle your chilly fingers. The sudden smell of meat being cooked overtook your senses, causing you to let out a cheerful laugh. Turning your head to the side you noticed Albedo tending to his own flame, a nice, large black pot was placed over it, filled with meat and hearty veggies, perfect for a delicious stew. His eyes sparkled with joy as he grabbed a nearby spoon and carefully stirred the stew, the intense smell of it even made his stomach grumble. A comfortable silence overcame the two of you, much to your relief. That earlier interaction made you feel a little tense but it was nice seeing him in high spirits again, even a genius like him gets lonely from time to time, you pondered to yourself. Your train of thought was stopped suddenly once you noticed the unsatisfied scowl on Albedo's pretty face. Frustration was written all over it as he suddenly stood up from his chair and grabbed his jacket and bag.

"I need to go out and get a herb or two, I'll be back before you know it. There should be some nearby, they'll make the stew that much more delicious."

With his back turned to you he started walking towards the exit, but before he left he had one final thing to say to you.

"Feel free to stir that thing every once and a while, maybe even read a book if you get too bored. But don't touch anything on that table in the corner, okay?"

His tone was gentle and the request was simple so you nodded with a smile on your face, saluting him in the process. With a chuckle he turned his back to you once more as he existed the cave, his footsteps were getting farther and farther away from the cave.

Soon enough you were all by your lonesome, your only companions being the few scraps of paper that were littered on the ground, the boiling pot and the crackling fire that sat next to you. You grabbed the wooden spoon and examined it in your hand, while also keeping an eye on the stew. The hearty smell made your tummy grumble which caused you to let out a semi loud groan as you dramatically held your stomach with your free hand, your eyes still zoned in on the food. You sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying the peace and quiet. It didn't take long for your stomach to act out again, begging you to just eat something. Besides, who knew when Albedo was coming back anyway. He was definitely more familiar with the mountain and terrain than you were but that still didn't change the fact that you were starving.

Standing up from the chair you decided to look around for something to munch on before your companion turned up once more. There were a couple of old oak tables in the cave with thousands of books and even more notes scattered across their surfaces, a clear sign that Albedo had been quite busy for a while now. You quickly scanned through everything but nothing caught your eye, to top it off there was no food in sight. He probably used up the rest of his leftover supplies to cook this little feast that was bubbling away in the corner, but you digress.

Your fingers gently traced the edges of the tables as you occasionally stopped to go through the various documents, even tidying up little areas here and there. Albedo really could be sloppy sometimes which why you took this tiny liberty. As you stood there with several books in your hands you couldn't help but to look at the table in corner, the one table Albedo warned you not to go anywhere near. You first turned your head to the side, a little angry at yourself for even letting the curious thought wander into your mind but the more you wandered around, the more fidgety you became. For starters that table was suspiciously tidier than the rest but somehow had even more junk on it compared to the others. An old lamp was on it, the wick inside of it was clearly lit not too long ago. You didn't even notice that the sun had started to set and just how colder and darker your surroundings had become. The only heat source was the fire that cooked your dinner, but even that threatened to go out any moment now. You had some matches in your pocket, surely you could light up this one lantern... right? You cautiously walked towards the forbidden corner, the contents on it remaining a complete mystery to you due to the darkness that continued to expand all around you. You were barely able to make out the small lantern, it's lid already open a little bit. You reached out to your pocket and took out your matches and tried to light them up. The first one went out almost immediately. The second one stayed lit for a few seconds but before you could even get it close to the lantern, it also faded. Grumbling to yourself, you grabbed a third match and prayed to the Archons to just let you light this stupid thing already. With a steady motion, you carefully tried to grab the lantern with your other free hand but you didn't even realize just how shaky you were. The match suddenly slipped right past your fingers and the lit flame fell onto the papers that were beneath you. With a shriek you picked everything up hastily while also trying to repair the damages you stupidity caused. You cursed yourself for your clumsiness, who knew how Albedo was going to react? He even told you not to go near this dumb table, you really should have listened to him... He was definitely going to notice what you did, so, you might as well try fixing them up while you could... That would hopefully make him a little less angry with you.

Stepping closer to the entrance you held the papers tightly to your chest as the strong wind almost knocked you over, but your determination was unwavering. You were going to fix this mess and that's final. With the few glimmers of light you finally looked at the contents of the papers, but instead of the usual notes that you were used to you were met with something much more... gruesome.

You shrieked as you threw the papers to the ground, but your eyes remained glued to them none the less. Icy chills coarsed through your veins as you looked at the images that were staring back at you, another scream threatening to break out.

On the ground was a drawing of a mutilated Albedo, with another Albedo that was standing above him with a bloody sword in his hand and a devilish sneer on his lips. The image itself was already disturbing, but it were the little details what caused you to freak out so much. The look of absolute fear in his eyes, the organs that were ripped apart from his stomach and were tossed so carelessly to the ground. His intestine decorated the bottom part of the page like grass as the Albedo above him held his weapon, his sneer forever engraved in your mind. You didn't even notice him holding a bloody heart in his other hand, the fist was high up in the air, like it was being shot up into the moon.

With shaky knees you crouched and took the papers in your hands and examined all of them. Some contained notes in a language which you could not decipher, the sharp penmanship made you woozy. Other pieces of parchment contained more drawings, each more disturbing than the last one. Human hearts, the general human anatomy, several scenes across Dragonspine were all drawn with a simple pencil but what stuck out the most were the portraits of Albedo, Sucrose and yourself. All of them were done with pristine detail, there was obvious care put into every little line. You sprinted towards the table, your anxiety skyrocketing beyond the roof, You moved everything around, hoping to find something that would explain the gory and eerie drawings but instead of answers you were met with even more questions - several pictures were hung up on the wall in front of you, all of them had Albedo as the center focus. It was him walking, eating, studying, drawing, sleeping, living...

It was beyond disturbing.

There were hundreds of little notes stuck and hidden in any corner of the table, all of which contained information about Albedo and his life. His height, his clothing, weight, everything was there. Your lungs felt like ice as you hyperventilated, your mind just couldn't comprehend what was going on. Why was he keeping so many methodical notes about himself, what was up with these sick drawings? Sick, there really was no other word to describe them. Repulsive, disgusting, sick, it was too much to handle.

To add more fuel to the fire, you suddenly felt a thin blade being pressed against your neck.

❤️ TAGS: @genshinarchives, @crystalkaramelle

#yandere #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #genshin impact #albedo x you #yandere albedo #fake albedo x reader #fake albedo #yandere fakebedo #fakebedo #yandere albedo kreideprinz #yandere male #genshin #yandere genshin impact

[002yb]

Hurt and comfort is the best, what about Jason finding out what Mirage and Tarantula did to Dick?

When they run into each other, it’s clear that they’re both thinking:  This is the worst.

It absolutely is, too.  Who the fuck wants to run into someone they know outside of a support group for male survivors of sexual assault?  It’s already hell dragging himself here.  Jason doesn’t doubt that everyone has their suspicions about him, but it’s a personal and vulnerable thing he never wanted to share and–wait.

Dick is here.  

Just like Jason.

The realization knocks the wind out of him in such a violent way that Jason can’t breathe for a moment.  Something must show in Jason’s face and he feels terrible about it–how Dick tries to placate him and dismiss everything.  Jason is the wrong person to pull that shit with though because he gets it.  An entire life later and Jason still gets it.

So Jason placates.  Unintentionally mirroring Dick with open, raised hands and–shit.  This really is the worst.  Jason doesn’t know what to say.  He doesn’t know what to do.  He’s helped countless people in the alley with this shit, but now that it’s someone Jason knows he feels overwhelmed and helpless.

Somehow they end up at a diner.  There’s no panic, just wild discomfort as they sit across from each other in a tucked away booth.  Jason doesn’t ask for details or confirmation about his suspicions.  Neither does Dick.  Jason is still working through all sorts of emotions though:  confusion, denial, anger.  Anything to avoid the compassion he feels that breaks his fucking heart.  Dick and he have their grief with each other, but Dick is a good man.  He’s so damn good, so this?  This is too much.  It’s needlessly cruel.  It’s the universe screaming to the world that nothing is safe or sacred and Jason hates it.

What does he do?  What can he do?  Jason wants to know who it was so that Jason can retaliate somehow.  He’s sure Dick wouldn’t appreciate a duffel with their head, but...no.  Jason wouldn’t draw needless attention to Dick like that .  Still, he wants to know who.  When was it?  Was Jason around?  Should he have noticed and didn’t?  Could he have done something?

Jason shakes his head at his spiraling thoughts.  This isn’t about him.  He’s so damn angry about it though.  Jason feels like he could fight the world right now, burn it to ash and cinders.  He could scream and cry because Jason was one thing, but Dick is another and–

“Hey.” Dick’s voice cuts through Jason’s thoughts and steals his attention.  He raises his head and sees Dick watching him with a ghost of a smile on his lips.  While Jason had been processing, running through the full spectrum of rage and grief, Dick had just been quietly observing him feel all the feelings.

Jason scowls a bit, embarrassed and not at the same time, “What?”

“I’m okay.” Dick tells him.

Jason’s scowl deepens as he looks at Dick with disbelief.  It makes Dick laugh a bit.

“Honest.” He tells Jason, arms rested on the table.  Fidgeting. “I’m doing a lot better.”

Again, Jason finds himself mirroring Dick.  Arms on the table, fingers fidgeting.  Picking at his nails, the broken skin around them.  He takes a steadying breath and focuses on the facts:  Dick was at a support group.  He was getting himself help in a way that was comfortable for him, same as Jason.

“Is there anything I can do?” Jason asks, heart heavy and voice a little raw for it.

Dick shakes his head.  It’s a personal thing.  Jason understands that more than anyone.  It’s vulnerable and awful and sometimes it’s just not something you want to share.  A hurt kept close to the chest because it’s terrible and miserable and it takes time to cope with it.  Jason would know.

It’s tentative, but he reaches out.  Pinky hooking over Dick’s and just–holding on.  It stops Dick from picking his nails bloody–agitated and stressed although he hides it well.  Dick curls his pinky, in turn.  A stronger hold.  A grounding support.  He offers Jason a small smile and Jason takes it for the quiet gratitude it is.

“How long have you been going?” Dick asks, almost conversational despite the subject.

“Few years.  Only sometimes.” Jason admits.

“Good.” Dick breathes, shoulders relaxing a fraction.  The reaction makes Jason realize that Dick–he must have been stressed over Jason, too.  He’s that sort of guy.  Still, Jason says, “I’m okay, too.  Better.  Most of the time.”

Dick sighs, so relieved it’s palpable and it might break Jason’s heart again.

“It sucks.” Dick breathes, lost in thought.  It’s a simplified way of putting it, but how else can someone possibly express the betrayal and the pain and violation without screaming themselves raw, without being forced to be vulnerable and exposed all over again?

“Yeah,” Jason agrees, just as breathless. “Yeah, it does.”

------ Thank you for the prompt~ ngl not too familiar with this portion of canon (morso than every other portion of canon ahahah OTL); all I really know is that it happened and I'm distraught over it. ;n;

#jaydick #dickjay #jason todd #dick grayson #prompt fill #words

[full-of-malice]

miguel o'hara & fatherhood

omg i'm back again here's a post analyzing him as a father and umm some minor headcanons idk. there's some death and grief and atsv spoilers if anyone cares

miguel in regards to fatherhood and raising gabi, for however long that he did, is a story that is both on a psychologically horrifying level but also one on a level of growth and almost wholesomeness.  miguel as a father was thrown into fatherhood, with a daughter who was already grown enough that he had to figure things out as he went, not to mention as a single father. he had to tackle understanding kids, figure out how to do hair, what was popular with kids, how to schedule the everyday life, the wants and needs of an average kid, let alone his own child were likely strange and unknown concepts to him.  he could only watch countless videos on what kids did and didn't like.  a few personal headcanons of mine is that he would spend whole nights watching videos on how to do hair, watching shows that gabi liked to make sure that he was up to date on what she enjoyed so they could have something to talk about. also that he's constantly using lyla as a form of googling like i uh she's says she likes xyz and we've watched it a ton of times. what is xyz

he'd be constantly trying his best to be a good father, despite struggling with exact details as how to be a good father. a constant what do i do uh yeah kids like that right? being around gabi taught him a lot of patience. he became a soccer dad, which he never really imagined himself being until he was one. and then he wasn't. miguel deeply valued this fatherhood and his time with gabi, so it was heartbreaking for him to lose it all, destroy her and her entire world, and for it to all be his fault he had originally sought out fatherhood and taking care of gabi as a means to making himself happy, to give himself another chance at life, and gabi ended up meaning so much to him that losing her broke him. miguel and fatherhood is a complex concept that borders on downright terrifying and remarkably wholesome in the ways that he is trying so hard to be there for her and do what is right, all while doing the horribly wrong thing.  replacing someone and constantly lying to his 'child' was certainly not doing the right thing, making his seemingly perfect and adorable life with gabi secretly something more twisted and questionable miguel's fatherhood may have been sweet and beautiful, but he likely lived in constant fear and paranoia, knowing that at any given time, someone might realize that he's not quite who they know, even though it would be incredibly unlikely they could figure out exactly what had happened, it was likely someone would eventually notice that he wasn't behaving as he usually did, nor was he truly who he said he was

miguel and his concept and understanding of fatherhood is something that is complex and never truly right or wrong, good nor bad.

tysm for reading <3

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #heacanons #my post #character analysis #malice rambles #blorbo #my blorbo #i'm planning to write an analysis for miguel and horror #imagine being unhinged imagine using smth that doesn't exist as a coping mechanism omg couldn't be me #i'm so sorry to anyone who ever got to know me or followed me under the impression that i was normal i'm actually a tiny bit feral #i sat down today and said what about a few more posts. just a few more

[blackcurlsgreeneyes]

As the Moon Sheds Its Shadow // Closed RP

@fidelixcorde

The announcement had gone up on all common room boards the day of, making it rather abrupt. But it had everyone excited enough that word spread, so Harry had no doubt that the Great Hall would be quite full despite short notice. And even those who might not have been inclined to join a Dueling Club were talking about it, clearly intending to attend, presumably because of the same fears that had prompted the staff to implement it to begin with.

"What, they reckon that Slytherin's monster can duel?" Ron asked dryly as they left study hall after dinner had been over for an hour, heading back downstairs among the throng. "Still, it'll be useful for more than just this year, I reckon."

"Considering that you two wound up accepting a duel from Malfoy last year with limited spell education, let alone dueling training," Hermione snorted, "yes, I think you might need it."

Harry frowned. "Huh. That reminds me, he's been quiet this year, hasn't he?" he asked as they entered the Great Hall. As if conjured, he spotted the blond across the room, sitting on the small risers that had been raised around a candlelit golden stage stretching the length with Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini. His usual guard dogs were sitting off on their own.

"Maybe even he has to admit that You Know Who coming back wouldn't be ideal," Ron muttered as they took their places along the stage.

"I wonder who‘ll be teaching us?“ Hermione mused. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young—maybe it‘ll be him.“

"As long as it‘s not—" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Lockhart was walking onto the stage, accompanied by none other than Snape.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend ourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape! He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don‘t want any of you youngsters to worry—you‘ll still have your Potions master when I‘m through with him, never fear!“

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position, “Lockhart told the silent crowd. „On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.“

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried, "Expelliarmus!“ There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

"Do you think he‘s all right?“ Hermione squealed, watching through her fingers.

"Who cares?“ Ron laughed. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!“ he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I‘ve lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don‘t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…“

Recovering, Lockhart went on, "Enough demonstrating! Time to give you students a chance..."

#fidelixcorde #Harry x Taylor #RP: As the Moon Sheds Its Shadow #Sayre!Taylor

[writing-by-mimi]

  Value

Fandom: Obey Me!

Chapter: 3

Pairing: GN!MC x Belphegor

Summary: What is your most precious item worth?

Adult content, read at your own risk. Not beta read.

     Barbatos came as Solomon asked. The only thing he brought with him was a red envelope with your name in Diavolos scrawl, written in gold.

      "Mc is in the library. They nodded off for an hour or so, woke up in a panic." The sorcerer sighed, "Just be extra careful with Mc, their a bit jumpy." He walked past Barbatos and lead the butler to a drawing room. Knocking loudly, he entered.

      Barbatos saw you flinch. Making eye contact with you, he gave a smile and a small bow. "Hello, Mc. It has been a while. I'm glad to see you working so hard. I've come to speak on the academies behalf."

     This was it. This was Diavolo finally deciding you wouldn't be a good fit for the program... A notice of release filled with misery.

     They too knew how useless you truly were....

      Barbatos watched you sign to Solomon. Another thing you had learned once reaching the human realm. You would be casting with your hands, learning how to sign would only help.

     "I'm glad you picked up another langue. It is a very under appreciated one." He smiled.

     Of fucking course Barbatos knew sign language, why the fuck wouldn't he? You sighed as you stood, reaching out for the envelope. You had already accepted you fate.

        "On behalf of the academy, I would like to offer you an invitation to R.A.D., only this time, we truly wish you accept, rather than just taking you." He smiled. "We've made adjustments and even have a few offers, as to ensure a former students return." He handed over the envelope. "Speaking outside of the academy, I would like to see you return, even the young master. He will never  admit it, keep it professional, but he does miss his human friend."

     Sitting back at your desk, you stared at the envelope. Just a moment ago you were worried it would be rejection...so you should take it. It meant showing everyone in person you were useless though...

     Holding your hand up, you stared at the envelope. 'You'll kick me out once you see how useless I am.'  You put your arm down. Barbatos had seen what you singed. You could feel his eyes on you.

     "Even if you never cast again, we would still keep you. You've worked hard at potions and ritual symbols, crafts that don't get much attention. Anyone who can make solid potions and draw ritual symbols we would be glad to have in our academy. Even now, while flustered, you've managed to draw a perfect circle completely free hand."

      Staring down at your paper next to your envolope your eyes followed the circle.

      "Not only that, but some of the ritual symbols require fine detail. I'm told by Solomon you excel." The butler moved forward to look at what you had hanging above your desk. "This one." He pointed to the page farthest left. "You may be concerned with casting, but this symbol is perfectly done. A few milliliters of blood would activate it. I know it would with adjustment." Looking over his shoulder to find Solomons eyes. "May I take Mc to the backyard and decimate your large oak tree?"

      "Have a blast. Just don't do anything too explosive. This is the human realm.

     "Of course." He turned and gave a bow after retrieving a different paper from your desk. "Mc, could you come with me?"

     It wouldn't work. You had tried. You had bleed all over countless papers trying to activate them, but with no verbal component, it was just bloody paper and failure. 'Feel free to take the envelope with you when you leave.'

       You had followed him to the oak tree. Solomon hung back by the back entrance as to give the two of you space.

       "This is a symbol for plant regrowth. However, what many people fail to realize is that the symbol is not a be all, end all. It needs direction. For example, as this symbol is now, if this tree were burnt, it would not work. No amount of blood or verbal component would do what was needed unless this small detail here were adjusted." He pointed to a small delicate symbol in the top right of one of the many circles. "If the tree were just simply wilting, it would work." Moving his finger to the top left, he pointed to another symbol. "Some of the smaller details here, if you were to do things that fell to an oak tree, would also help. It has everything it needs to do the job, but it has no guidance. Providing such will help. Do you know any symbols that you could replace were I've shown? If not, it is simply a matter of memory. The royal library has books upon books on the subject and even a small symbol guides and dictionary. If you were to return, I would like to permanently lend a special version to you until the day you have it memorized." He drew a small book from seemingly nowhere and held it out. "Symbols for burn restoration and even symbols for specific plant life are within the pages. I wish you to use it to redraw the ritual symbols as I have pointed out."

      All you did was stare. It wouldn't help. You tried countless times...

     "If not for yourself, than for Solomon." He smiled as the tree caught flame. A raging inferno that lasted no more than three seconds and was completely extinguished after. "He is rather fond of this tree." The butler smiled.

     'You've killed it for nothing.'

     "Perhaps, but one will not know until we try." He made sure to place the book in your hand, careful as not to make any contact with you. Your fingers gripped the book as he let go. Watching you move inside, he stayed by the tree. Solomon came to join him after he whispered assurances as you passed.

       "You'll truly let Mc have free reign of such a tome?" Solomon looked to Barbatos with a smirk. "I asked Diavolo personally to simply look at it and was denied."

     "Desperate times call for desperate measures. He will even allow you to borrow it from Mc, if Mc allows it."

       "Ever the fairness." Solomon quipped sarcastically. "I guess I should be thankful I was considered at all though, I know Diavolo just wishes to protect his kingdom, but it is not as if I lose things, or Mc for that matter." The sorcerer let out a sigh. "You realize if this backfires, Mc may never return?"

      "Yes, but Mc has always worked hard. While they may not be passionate about potions and symbols, the talent can not be denied. I hope with time and guidance, they will come to enjoy it. I know you focus more on casting and potions, hence your need for the tome I handed Mc, but I would personally make myself available to tutor Mc on symbols."

     "I may have to sit in on that. Lord knows I need the help."

     "If Mc is comfortable with it, I will allow it. Having someone to learn and practice with could very well help."

      About twenty minutes later, you made your return, handing the paper and book to Barbatos. Looking it over the butler smiled as he handed the paper back. Reaching into his breast pocket, he retrieved what looked like a pen. "I believe this may aid you as well, some symbols require exact amounts of blood. Simply click this button. One click is on milliliter of blood. Simply click more to up the count. This button will rest the count." He demonstrated. "This will extend the tip." He clicked the top. "It is a very fine point, sharpened to easily break skin. It will automatically draw the required amount of blood in. Simply hit the release button, and it will eject the blood. You can also use the tip to write, though it can be tricky. It will take some learning, but stronger sigils and symbols require to be written in blood. As you remove the 'pen' from the wound you create, it will heal." Barbatos set the pen to take one milliliter of blood. Placing it to his skin on his wrist, he clicked the pen top, you could see the pen fill with a small amount of blood. Removing it, the wound healed as if it had never happened. Taking a small vial from his jacket, he deposited the blood with the eject button. "It also will remain completely sterile, as it is magically designed to do so. After a time of using it, you will be able to see and feel how much blood is a milliliter and go from there. This is simply a starter device." He held it out for you to take. "A tree of this size, trying to return it to as it was...one  milliliter should do well. This one does not need an exact amount, but to much blood, especially for plant life, will do nothing." He explained.

      You took the pen and sat at the base of the tree, laying the paper down in front of you on the roots. Studying the pen, you weren't sure how to feel. If this worked, it would be a way to cast symbols. Not pure magic...but it was still casting. If it failed, even under Barbatos's training, then you would know for sure... you wanted it to work. You didn't want to be a failure in their eyes.

     You did as instructed, going slow and learning the pen as you went. The draw of your blood was less painful than expected, but that could be due to nerves. Lining up the pen to deposit your blood, you took a deep breath and hit the eject button. Ypu sat with expectant eyes for what felt like an eternity.

       Nothing was happening.

        Now Barbatos knew as well what a failure you were. Dragging yourself up, you angerly signed, 'Don't forget your envelope when you leave.' Making your way quickly to the house, you held back tears. This was it, even with Solomon and Barbatos backing you, you failed.

      "Mc, wait!" Solomons voice was right behind you.

       You let out a silent scream as hands gripped your shoulders and turned you around. You knew Belphegor wasn't here, it didn't help though. The hands now on your face, moving it, was making you panic.

      The panic slowly faded as you watched the scorch marks seemingly absorb into the tree. Small leaves springing up randomly and the trees leaves growing to full size.

     "A tree grows from the inside out, Mc. There was plenty of work that needed to be done inside so the outside could flourish." Barbatos had never moved from his spot, still looking to the tree as he spoke. "With a bit of guidance, it was able to come back from nothing. Just as I believe you can as well."

     The tree looked perfect in just a few minutes, even better than before Barbatos had burned it...

     You weren't sure when you had fallen to your knees, but Barbatos offered his hand to assist you. You were hesitant. Ever since Belphegor had tried to kill you a second time, even simple touches petrified you. But Barbatos could offer you guidance, just as Solomon had for potions. It wasn't pure casting, it would be long, hard hours and so much blood...but you could do this. Ritual symbols could be used for so many things, and if you could find the details that needed adjusted as Barbatos had said...you could cast what ever you liked with enough blood. You'd bleed yourself dry if it meant you could even get close to what you had.

     You reached out slowly and took his hand, flinching and closing your eyes, repeating that Belphegor wasn't here and could do you no harm. "Do you still wish to decline the academies invitation?"

     You shook your head quickly as you stood, freeing your hand from his as soon as you had stood, a small shiver shaking your core.  Something as simple as the gloved hand of a friend that had never harmed you, but arranged time to his whim to save you once now made you shake with fear.

     'When can we leave?'

#obey me belphie #obey me! belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #shall we date obey me #obey me swd #obey me #obey me!

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Your writing is so gorgeous, wow- uhm, could I ask for Scar (from any season, I don't mind!) with a GN!Reader who tends to notice smaller things about everything, but mainly about him and his builds? I watch him a lot and notice he kind of hums after he laughs and it's incredibly endearing <3 And all of his builds and character designs are so intricate, I can't help but get excited about the details! I don't mind if it's platonic or romantic, just wanna show Mr. Goodtimes some love!

I don't mind what format, headcanons or fics, everything you write is super :D

I hope it's alright, I took it in a slightly different direction but I do hope that you still enjoy it!

Little Things

Drabble Contains: Fluff -------------------------------

With one last pat to the dirt you sit back, happy with your work so far.

You admire the small but messy tree, wiping the mud from your hands as best you can. Today you'd repotted your bonsai, it needed a little more space for the root system.

The tree had been a gift from your long time best friend and romantic partner, Mr. Goodtimes. Scar had bought you it recently out of the blue, offering you no explanation. You'd taken the gift, and made Scar promise to show you how to take care of it.

Organics are Scar's thing, he has always had a talent for terraforming and shaping plants. While you have some skill you don't meet his level.

And so you had asked for his help to trim the leaves of the tree, which were the only other thing that needed tending to. The tree was still in pretty good condition when you received it, just in need of a little care.

Bang on time you hear the door open, Scar having set this time to come help you the other day.

"What a beautiful job you've done." The smile is evident in his voice, you don't even have to turn around to know that.

Scar comes up behind you, reaching around your body to run his fingers over the pot, the small pattern catching his attention first. "Did you make this?," he asks, feeling the texture of the glazed clay.

"I did. Do you like it?" "I love it, and I love you." You turn your head to look at him, Scar not hesitating to steal a quick kiss before coming to be beside you.

"I love you too, now will you help me with the leaves?" Scar nods, producing a small pair of shears from seemingly nowhere.

"I told you I would show you, so, let's get started." He smiles softly before turning his attention to the tree.

Scar delicately prunes the branches, making sure there will be no growth where it isn't wanted. Shaping the tree is a big part of the hobby after all, he emphasises that point in his explanation.

You watch carefully as his fingers brush over the leaves, the bark, carefully snipping away.

Once the explanation is over he continues to trim the leaves, humming as he shapes. Something he does no matter the project.

Watching him work has always been one of your favourite things. So much so it's hard to pay full attention to what he's actually doing. You're so focused on the little movements his hands are making, how gentle and precise he is handling the tree. How thought out ever little detail is, he never misses a thing.

Your eyes wander up to his face, his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed as he focuses fully on what he's doing. His green eyes are fixed on the tree, twinkling with a joy you've seen countless times before.

There are so many things you pick up on, when he's tending to the garden or building something of his own.

When he works on something he loves there is always the ghost of a smile on his face. He always uses his hands to feel a surface before and after doing anything. Scar often will hum quietly as he works, sometimes a tune, sometimes in acknowledgement of what he's doing.

He's a wonder to watch work, you often do. Wherever you can.

"Your turn." Scar says suddenly. "I what?" "It's your turn, I am teaching you how to do this yourself. " He chuckles.

Slowly you take the shears from his hand. He keeps his hand over yours, guiding you to a section of the bonsai still needing a trim. The very tip top.

After the first few he lets go of you with a hum, content in watching you try yourself.

Scar still helps you with which branches need to be removed, until the tree is finished. It looks like it did before, just much neater and shapely. Although you can't take credit for its looks.

"It's beautiful, thank you." You beam, watching as Scar runs his hand over the leaves before following the curve of the trunk, some of the visible roots and all the way to the pot you have the bonsai now sitting in.

"I can't take full credit." He smiles, "you put just as much effort into this." "Oh don't be silly."

"I'm not, really, it wouldn't look nearly as good without the pot." He runs his fingertips over the small pattern, before turning to face you. "It's a beautiful tree for my beautiful partner."

"Oh Scar." You sigh happily, watching his eyes gleam with joy. He chuckles quietly, placing a kiss atop your head. It's the little things that make you both happy.

#scar x reader #gtwscar x reader #goodtimewithscar x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #scar #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #mcyt #request #remmammie

[hopepaigeturner]

☂️Umbrella Academy AU ☂️: Meet No.7

Things hot up as we are introduced to our penultimate member...

*~*~*~*~*~*

“I cannot believe you would be so stupid,” Lady Danbury thundered. Gareth continued to scuff his shoes. “Your powers are a gift and you should not deal with them so recklessly—at school of all places!”

Gareth huffed and stood up straight.

“If they are a gift then why do you limit them?”

Lady Danbury’s eyebrows lowered, lips in a set line.

“You are not ready for time travel Gareth.”

“Why not?” Gareth cried.

“We have yet to fully comprehend how your time travel could work, it is too dangerous for—”

“Someone my age? I’m 17, Lady D. I’m not a child anymore! I can do this!”

“No, you can’t. It is too dangerous. You are under my charge and care and I will not have you recklessly risking your life.”

“Why don’t you believe in me? Why don’t you trust me?” he cried back. “Simon would—”

“Simon already agrees with me.” Gareth halted. Lady Danbury gave him a knowing look. “And he is already on his way here to help me shake some sense into you.”

Gareth ground his teeth.

“It’s not my fault you’re both cowards. And I’m not going to apologise for being who I am. Not now, not ever,” he seethed before striding out of the room.

“Gareth!” Danbury called before he hopped out onto the landing, then another hop to the front hallway. He stuck two middle fingers at the upper stories and went to stride out—

“Gareth?” Gareth whipped round to find Lucy standing by the steps to the kitchen. “Please don’t leave, not like this.”

“I’m done Lucy. I’m done,” he replied. “If they don’t believe I’m ready then I’ll show them.”

“Gareth please don’t do anything stupid,” Lucy said.

“I’m sorry Lucy,” He put up his hood, “you would never understand,” he replied, before slamming the door.

*~*~*~*~*

His sneakers beat along the ground in tandem with his thumping heart.

Why did they have to treat him like a child? Had he not proved himself enough? He’d trained for years to prove himself. He’d followed orders on every mission and when he didn’t…well he’d saved missions, saved his siblings countless times.

He was ready. He was beyond ready. Yet they would never let him. They would always see him as little Gareth, little poor Gareth…

Well, let them watch. Watch what he’d been practicing for weeks. Watch him be his own person, his own man and make his own choices.

Gareth closed his eyes and remembered Lucy’s advice. He already travelled through space by punching holes. He just had to find the hole for the fourth dimension—time.

He took a deep breath, reaching out, grasping—reaching.

The typical sucking sensation occurred—although something made it feel uncanny—and he hopped.

And landed.

Gareth opened his eyes and grinned. He started strolling along the dusky street, heart thrumming when he noticed a newspaper detailing some type of lightning strike—written two days in the future.

Gareth crowed and started skipping, closing his eyes, punching another hole—the suction—the landing.

Another street, this time in the bright sunshine.  The sign on the bookies shop read a week later.

Gareth laughed. Look at him now! Beat that Lady D! Who was the kid now?

Gareth closed his eyes, drew his fist back, and punched.

He would show them, he would show them all.

The suction. The landing.

Gareth opened his eyes and his stomach dropped.

Before him was a wasteland, dilapidated buildings, hanging telephone wires and splintered windows. Piles of debirs were lit on fire and advertisement boards lay like fallen playing cards. The horizon shone a dismal red, the sun shaded by ash, ash that sucked up Gareth’s nose as he tried to breathe.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, then turned and ran. Ran past the newsagent, as the scorching air abrased his lungs. He ran back to the Umbrella Academy—and cried out.

The entire academy stood in ruins, the umbrella on the front door mangled.

“Lucy!” he called, climbing through the debris. “Simon!” Tears clogged his throat but stung in his eyes. “Sophie! Anyone!”

He tried to concentrate, to punch another hole but he couldn’t, there was nothing but the ashy wind scattering dust across him. He collapsed onto the floor, tears in his eyes.

“Please…please, just let me go home.”

Something skittered in front of him, another newspaper dated a month from his original time. The title read;

Bridgertons berserk: Superpowered family wreaks the world—

Who the hell were the Bridgertons?

#the umbrella academy au #gareth st clair #no.7 #time travel #it's a tricky thing... #meet the team #meet the umbrellas #bridgerton #it's in his kiss

[tetraharmonic]

I present to you...

An Overview about Korsa.

This post is mostly going to be backstory things and how she met everyone. Gonna hold back on some details for the sake of spicy posts, so if something is worded vaguely, it's likely why.

Info begins below the cut.

Tag list: @ceyonicember @mismatchedesox

Ask to be added or removed <3

Please note that this post will contain: haircutting as a trauma response, swearing, and naybe also spoilers? A bit of angsty thought processes (courtesy of a traumatized Korsa), mentions of injury and plant death, survivors guilt, and maybe ptsd

Before the incident

Tucked away in a little city lost to time, was a bar known as the Amber Moon. Nobody really knew who owned the place, but it took off like fire in a dry field.

Korsa has been there since the beginning; back then, she was the embodiment of feminine charm, her hair cascading to her hips as she showed off suggestive yet elegant fits. She had a preference for corsets and backless tops.

Besides her looks, though, patrons noticed that the woman only seemed to exist in the bar, rarely interacting with anyone but a very, very select few, while on her breaks. She was fully devoted to the art of performance, and so, she prided herself in building a mysterious persona.

Back then, if she liked a customer, she'd give them a single request. Once you used it, you never got another...unless she really liked you. Wolfwood got 4 requests.

After several years, regulars became pretty comfortable with her, and she to them. Her alure was undeniable, bringing traveling groups to the bar just to see if the rumors were true...and they were. She had men and woman wrapped around her finger. It was but a game to her then.

In reality, she had grown rather annoyed by the people around her, who exhausted their plant regularly. They'd managed to push the plants limits far longer than anyone else by following big pushes with cool down periods, and, quite frankly, this pissed her off to all hell.

She started sneaking in to visit the plant, singing her songs in the hopes of soothing her pain in any way that the woman could. The plant never responded, but Korsa could see the plant relax, and so, she regarded the being as her friend.

Still, her biggest weakness was ignorance and her cockiness. She'd always gotten her way with little issues, so she didn't know how to fight for it. Everything always turned out okay, no matter how reckless. Her luck wouldn't last long.

After The Incident

Survivors guilt is a hell of a thing. The first thing Korsa did when she came to was cry, far longer than her body should have allowed her. Seeing her reflection in the shards of glass ruined her. It only got worse when the Amber and blue glows caught the liquid, making it, and her own blood, shimmer with light.

The second thing she did was take that very glass to slice her hair from her head, sort of like that scene in Mulan, but fueled by her warping self-image. She didn't see herself as the performer she once was. She saw herself as a cursed wanderer with no choice but to repent for failing to save a life.

She couldn't bear to watch the town fall apart after the death of the plant, so she simply left. She didn't take anything she owned besides her money. She didn't think she deserved any memory of her past life, not after she damned not only a plant but her whole town too.

She had to learn to fight purely from desperation, leading to countless injuries and near death encounters, but it would seem that, as her adrenaline would surge, she'd heal far faster than before. It was nowhere near the healing factor of a plant or when using the restorative serum, but she wasn't aware of either at the time, so it still shocked her.

She also realized that she was beginning to feel the next attacks coming, shrugging them off as learning when they were anything but.

The next few days, she'd begin to believe she was hallucinating, but she hadn't found herself feeling hungry or thirsty, so surely, something was wrong. Even after she'd taken care of her needs, visions of strangers began to haunt her mind. It took her a month to realize they were visions.

Upon reaching the next city, Korsa promptly bought a wooden mask. It was cheap, with only one eye hole, and completely devoid of detail, but it served its purpose. Even after all her time wandering, she couldn't bear to look at herself. She also got herself a cloak to hide the blue markings that had slowly begun to crawl from her bullet scar, to her face and arms.

She visited plants along the way, realizing her presence seemed to have an effect on the production capabilities of the plants. She could also sense the emotions of the plants, and so, she refused to ever step foot before one ever again, unless she absolutely had to.

Once again, survivors guilt.

Meeting Wolfwood

Originally, she'd met Wolfwood at the Amber Moon. She'd see him around and appreciated the way he let loose at her music. She gave him one request on the night they met, only to give him another each time he visited the Amber Moon. She would be gone by the time he visited for the fifth time.

It took some time for them to find each other again. Wolfwood was checking up on the plants, purely out of a hunch, after he found the town almost desolate. The Amber Moon was nearly empty, no music playing as the last few wanderers drank away their sorrows.

Korsa was standing over the wreckage, the glass still in her hands after slicing away her hair as a trauma response. Wolfwood patched up her wounds and brought her with him to the next city.

The two of them became rather close as they traveled, their one trip becoming four months' worth. She knew him well, able to read him easily, even without the use of her abilities.

They'd have an altercation that drew them even closer after their third month of traveling together. Neither of them can discuss it without getting emotional. Wolfwood still remembers the fear and guilt from the ordeal, whereas Korsa has been bombarded by it so frequently, its merely a dull ache.

Despite having known her before she wore the mask, he adverts his gaze out of respect for her, only looking at her when she initiates it.

Meeting the rest of the group

She knew Wolfwood was gonna get hit by the car, but no! He wouldn't believe her.

Why would he believe the fortune teller who has literally never been wrong before? Surely that made too much sense.

"There aren't any cars out here, only sand."

"Suit yourself then. I'm not going to take care of your injuries when it happens."

"Whatever, Oracle."

Wolfwood gets hit by the damn car. Korsa scoffs and says she told him so.

Meryl is absolutely baffled by the fact Korsa doesn't appear to care, but in reality, she knows Wolfwood is going to be fine, so she chooses not to waste her energy fussing.

Roberto is put off by the fact that Korsa already knows everyone's name. Wolfwood has to do the explaining for her. Only after that's settled does Roberto find some humor in the situation. A fortune teller and an undertaker traveling together seems like prime scumbag scammer material.

Vash insists they're good, though. He goes on about Wolfwoods eyes. He tries to think of something nice to say about Korsa, but she scares him a little bit. There's something about her presence that he can't shake. He covers it up by saying that if Wolfwood trusts her, so does he.

As time passes, Korsa realizes that her presence also affects Vash, so she figures him out near instantly. The problem is, apparently, he can see in on her inner world too, which pisses her off. Vash doesn't think too much about it, unlike Wolfwood. Korsa can't help but feel like a hypocrite for demanding that he stop looking in on her when she can't control her own abilities and is constantly looking in on everyone all the time.

After time passes, Korsa warms up to the group, especially Meryl. Korsa admits that she used to write music way back when, and so, she had quite a lot of poetry hidden away in her head. The two talk about it when there's no one around.

Besides Wolfwood, Meryl is the first to see Korsa unmasked. Next is Roberto, then Knives (after combat with him left that huge gash up her mask), then Vash, as he comes to help a very overwhelmed and mostly blinded Korsa.

She insists she doesn't care about them, but she's constantly using her abilities to predict the best outcome of any plan they come up with. She's like a mother bear, don't touch her group, or she'll unleash hellfire upon you.

Korsa loves them all far more than she wants to admit, letting them use her as a pillow while she takes the night watch shift. Perhaps becoming the Guardian isn't all too bad.

The group catches on very fast and starts to ask for Korsa's opinions on plans more often, which always goes well. They also always agree with her when she bets, because they know she's going to win. Korsa fucks with them and bets wrong, just to tease them all, but they win back what they lost pretty easily.

Korsa isn't allowed to make bets about the group anymore because she always wins. It took the group an embarrassingly long time to come up with this rule.

#man i love korsa #shes so baby in an uncanny valley sort of way #oc rambling #trigun #trigun fan character #tristamp #trigun oc #oc #origional character #trigun original character #tetraharmonic

[onedivinemisfit]

2022 Creator’s Self-Love Extravaganza

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2022. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love!

Tagged by @bubblesthemonsterartist tho I daresay I am fashionably late at this point, more than two weeks into the new year. Did I forget? Maaaaybe. Which brings us right to the main problem;

I barely remember. Like. 2022. At all. Things happened, I’m sure, but it’s as if there’s a fine layer of mist atop my memories, stopping me from really seeing them. Last year wasn’t really very kind to me. For every up, three downs followed, and between two failed surgeries, a bout of covid, and then whatever the hell kind of flare happened in the autumn… yeah. Idek. It is what it is.

As such, I can’t really comment on my art as like, a whole process, this year. It just existed in the ‘now’, which is presently the ‘then’. I know I beat my submission record from last year, but it felt like a meaningless victory. Despite everything, I can feel it in my hand now, when I draw, that some progress has been made. Subconsciously perhaps, but it’s there.

Onto the ranking then! (I just had to pull up the archive cuz fuck if I remember what I posted, and when)

1.

*deep sigh* we all saw this coming, didn’t we? As much as I love, I curse this image, for in hindsight it felt as if all my creative energy for the entire damned year went into this one piece! Like how dare! But yes it is one of my best redraws ever, and more so than the characters, I feel like I added to the background something even better than the original. There, I said it.

2.

Omigod this entire thiiiiiing. Were it not for the redraw, this would be the top spot. I can’t explain, so many ideas are left in the brain for countless hours, days, months, YEARS. This was two years in the making, and never before did I manage to recreate something that had the exact same vibe as it looked in my imagination. Especially because I’m not a comic creator, hashtag compulsive disclaimer lol. Also while I was drawing it, seeing people go from “hmmm what’s this?” to “wait is that-?” and then “ooooooh it is the lead-up to The Thing” was priceless.

3.

A last-second outlier comes in third. I admit to making this in a hurry, just to have something really nice to show for december (a month which is usually a highly productive month to me, but 2022 didn’t let me have that either) and as such, since I was struggling, both with a deadline, and a lack of real inspiration, I feel like. I managed to improve, somehow. Call it magic, but this looks noticeably different to many of my other colored pieces.

4.

To be perfectly honest, this was a sketch. People might not think it one, for it has details, a color scheme, and even effects - but at the time I posted it, this was just a colorized sketch in my mind. Tumblr disagreed. And I was left in awe watching this first get reblogged within the fandom, then beyond, then go through a hanfu appreciation blog, and finally reblogged with a truly tender chinese poem attached that said person felt gave them the same vibe as what I had drawn. The people spoke, and I was both awed and humbled, and I learned a valuable lesson in humanity relating to art.

5.

Unlike the others, this was a conscious attempt at something different. I can’t really say why it should go in the fifth spot, but it does; i spent a lot more time than usual on composition, colors, and most importantly, mood setting. And putting characters so solidly into the middleground can be a challenge in itself for me, as I run the risk of getting storybook-ish. Which would’ve been disastrous for a scene like this.

Honorable mention;

Coping through art. @bubblesthemonsterartist has the honor of inspiring this, or like, being the one to “give me” the go-ahead to channel some of my experiences through the characters and story-telling in general. Back pain is something I know all too well, and it was well and truly therapeutic. I also got to do another test of “can I retell this scene, even if I switch part of the cast and premise?” And it seems I did. I will always remember @what-plant-metaphor-am-i ‘s tag; ‘# I feel like I just watched an entire episode XD’ <- never has my inner storyteller been more validated.

There, that wasn’t so hard! Sometimes I’m really thankful for the internet, and timestamps, and kicking my memory back into gear etc… anyway, since I am so woefully late to the party, I’m not tagging anyone specifically; if you wanna be fashionably late too, you know who tagged you~

#2022 self love extravaganza #art meme #self love meme #2022 summary #myart #about the artiste