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submissive-and-readable · 4 months

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Skater Boy by Anthony Nerada

Source: Audiobook ARC from NetGalley

Release date: 6 February

Genre: young adult contemporary romance

If you like: queer coming of age, explorations of toxic masculinity, pop-punk, flawed protagonists trying to be better, Sk8ter Boy by Avril Lavigne but gay

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

Synopsis

Stonebridge High’s resident bad boy, Wesley “Big Mac” Mackenzie, is failing senior year—thanks to his unchecked anger, rowdy friends, and a tendency to ditch his homework for skateboarding and a secret photography obsession. So when his mom drags him to a production of The Nutcracker, Wes isn’t interested at all . . . until he sees Tristan Monroe. Mr. Nutcracker himself.

Wes knows he shouldn’t like Tristan; after all, he’s a ballet dancer, and Wes is as closeted as they come. But when they start spending time together, Wes can’t seem to get Tristan out of his head. Driven by a new sense of purpose, Wes begins to think that—despite every authority figure telling him otherwise—maybe he can change for the better and graduate on time.

As a falling out with his friends becomes inevitable, Wes realizes that being himself means taking a stand—and blowing up the bad-boy reputation he never wanted in the first place.

Content warnings

Explicit language

Bullying

Alcoholism

Underage drinking

Racism (as experienced by a Black love interest)

Past domestic abuse

Childhood trauma

Smoking (cigarettes + weed)

Homophobia

Physical violence

Review

Why'd Wes have to go and make things so complicated 😔🤘

I hadn't expected to, but I found myself relating to Wes quite a bit. His experience of being labelled as a bad kid, and then only being seen as such without being given the chance to break that expectation, as well as his feelings of anger and fear and powerlessness, that no one wants to listen to him, that he can't open up to people, that he's inferior and will never amount to anything, took me right back to primary and secondary school lmao. (I'm so glad I'm not a teenager anymore.)

I also empathise with how awkward Wes feels around Tristan, or when he's trying to talk to people who aren't his friends; not knowing the right thing to say, or when he says something that comes off as angrier or meaner than he intends—that's literally me, baby!

A part I don't relate to is the bullying. Wes is like, a legit bully, like pushing kids into the lockers like in american high school movies kind of bully. While he's not the main aggressor among his friends, it still kind of hurt to read about how he hurt people in the past. I liked how his character arc developed, with him facing up to his actions and apologising to his victims, although I do think he was forgiven pretty easily; I personally would have held a grudge until I died, but good for them!

At the start of the book I was worried that this would be a whole "find a bf and magically all your problems are fixed!" kind of story, but while Tristan is definitely a motivating factor for Wes to improve himself, I really appreciate that Wes was the one who decided to take initiative and begin the first steps to becoming better.

There's layers of complexity to Wes and Tristan's relationship, because (a) Tristan is Black, and so deals with racism that Wes could never understand, (b) Tristan is out and Wes is not, (c) Tristan is a perfectionist and has a goal and life plans, while Wes is flunking high school with no plans to apply for college, (d) Wes had an abusive childhood, and Tristan has loving supportive parents, and (e) Wes is poor and Tristan is wealthy.

These are a lot of issues to handle in one book, and while I feel like the author does a good job discussing and resolving most of these elements, there's one point that I feel didn't get fully resolved, and that's the wealth disparity between them. Wes is super aware of this, he constantly notices the differences between the way they live, which makes him feel self-conscious around Tristan.

Spoiler warning, but at one point Tristan dresses Wes up in like a pricey cardigan and a polo shirt to meet his parents, and later Wes is furious and leaves early because he feels out of place and insecure, and that Tristan is trying to change who he is. Later, they talk and Wes comes to the conclusion that he was over-reacting, which, yeah, he was. But Tristan never apologises and is like "you know I would never have made you change your clothes if I knew it would make you feel bad!" He also makes fun of one of Wes's friends, and Wes wonders if part of the reason why he doesn't want to introduce Tristan to his friends was because he felt embarrassed.

I feel like this is a pretty big deal, and an obvious source of tension, that doesn't seem to get fully resolved. Most of Wes and Tristan's discussions about their relationship revolve around Wes apologising, but Tristan, even though he never does so intentionally, never apologises for making Wes feel inferior in this aspect.

I also feel that Tristan was kind of one-dimensional. From Wes's perspective, Tristan is perfect and flawless, and he puts him on a pedestal, while Wes is the one messing up. Tristan's only flaw, as far is I can tell, is that he struggles with anxiety, but he never seems to show it to Wes, for all that he encourages Wes to be emotionally vulnerable with him. I would have liked it if Tristan messed-up, or needed Wes to support him or comfort him in some way (Wes does support him, at near the ending, but that doesn't really count), to balance out their relationship a bit, instead of always having Tristan encouraging him, and having Wes mess up and make up for it.

The climax of this book gets really chaotic, huge shit goes down, like life-ruining shit. He manages to work it all out in the end, but I feel that it came way too easily, especially the problems he had with his friends. I feel like it got dismissed as some sort of misunderstanding, like Wes was the one making a big deal out of nothing. Afterwards, he and his friends talk it out very maturely, but where was all that maturity when shit was going down!!

I realise that a lot of my review sounds like I'm complaining, but this is really worth a read! The way this book discusses toxic masculinity, emotional vulnerability, dealing with trauma (because Wes is very clearly traumatised) is so well-done, and you can tell from the author's note that he put a lot of love and thought into this book. I would discuss this more but this review would get very spoilery.

To finish off this review, here are some nitpicks! These are minor details and do not affect the overall story! Some of these are purely personal issues I have that may not apply to other people!

Wes is stated to be a punk, and a lot of this book (the title, the chapter titles, the marketing) is about pop-punk, or scene music in general. But Wes doesn't seem to listen to pop-punk? The only band he mentions listening to is Metallica, which, last I checked, is a metal band. He wears a Linkin Park t-shirt once (huge slay) and mentions the My Chemical Romance reunion (double slay), but that's about it. He seems to be more of a metalhead tbh, which there's nothing wrong with, but I was hoping for more pop-punk references. (This sounds greedy, since almost every chapter title is a pop-punk reference, and I did appreciate that, but I wanted more!!)

I didn't vibe with the audiobook narrator. I'm kind of (very) picky about audiobooks, so the fact that I didn't dnf shows that he did a decent job at least, but I feel like he missed the mark on narrating the dialogue. Sometimes I couldn't tell the difference between Wes's internal narration and when he was actually speaking which was confusing, and the narrator also read everything in this sad, hesitant sort of voice, which works for the overall vibe of the story, but makes the happy, lighthearted moments in the book feel sad as well.

Minor spoiler, Wes's mom got him and his friends tickets to see Metallica, but later they start growing apart and the concert is never mentioned again (unless I somehow missed it?), so its unclear if they did go to the Metallica concert. I need to know if they went, because if they skipped out on it due to their beef, I will be very sad on their behalf.

#skater boy #anthony nerada #booklr #book review #lgbt #queer #queer books #mlm #coming of age #young adult #gay #lgbtq #lgbtqia #achillian #gay romance #gay books #mlm representation #mlm romance

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muckety-mucks-i-s-goin-delux · 1 year

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There is a reason why Jack and Crutchie are newsies leaders with Race as the second in command, the holy trio of Lower Manhattan

Jack is a natural born leader, he's charismatic, he's been around and seen how the world works but he's also idealistic. This boy is a DREAMER. He's the loverboy. It's easy to get swept into the fantasy when Jack talks about it. A strike? Sure, sounds great, we can take them no doubt.

He's also mighty protective of his kids. He'd give up his dreams, his ideals just to keep his kids safe. He'd do anything for them, he's the person you go to when you have a problem and he might not be able to solve it (or have an idea how to for that matter) but he will listen and advise best he can.

He also definitely puts away some of the money he earns for whenever some of the newsies can't pay for food or lodging or whenever they need bandages or medicine.

He also loves the newsies so much, he definitely mother hens them.

Crutchie is not an obvious leader, not with Jack around but the kids flock to him anyway. He's got easy, playful (gremlin like) personality, he's great problem solver and best at advise. He's the VOICE OF REASON. A strike? Yeah, we should probably swallow the bitter pill and get the papes or well starve cos noone cares about us.

He's been around, being an orphan and having a bum leg, long enough to know that the world is a cruel place and he's wise beyond his years in a day to day matters. He's the one that thinks of basic, yet crucial for survival things like will they have enough food? Is everyone in the lodging and do they have a place to sleep? He sees a kid on a street and offers help. He's the one to keep the guys (or not if it's particularly funny) in check. Jack, for the love of everything holy no. This is the stupidities things I've heard. No, Race you can't do that and I don't care you think you can take them. You will die. He sees Les and immediately wants to keep him safe but the he remembers right they got folks

Racetrack is the second in command because he's younger than the other two, a kid enough to still mess around with his friend and be the smartass funny guy of the group but when things get serious he does a 180 and he does not fuck around. Strike? Fuck ye, we won't let them walk all over us! It will be a pleasure to tell Weasel meself! But at the same time when he sees there are no reinforcement coming he wants to back down, he looks around at the kids and thinks fuck we can't take them, this is a bad idea.

He's the tough love kind of guy, he loves the newsies, they are the only family he had, being at the lodging house the longest/a newsie for forever so if you fuck with one of them get ready cos he's coming for you. But at the same time he'd leave them to resolve their problems themselves or does not interfere unless things get real. You spend all the money already? Suck to be you. Haha, get a load of that guy, what a loser. Jack you still thinking? Sure he is can't ya smell the smoke?

He's most independent of the newsies. He goes to Brooklyn everyday, sells his papers, bet on the ponies (usually wins because he's wicked at maths and probability) and at the end of the day comes back to joke around and tell funny stories. But when Denaceys are picking on someone he's first one to start a fight. He's the first person you go get when shit goes down on the streets because he will not lecture you like Crutchie would or would not fuss too much like Jack would. He would call you an idiot and move on. But he's loyal to a fault just has a lot of anger building underneath and does not know how to process that so he either ignores it or just blows, but not on the newsies, no, he'd just pick a fight with someone or say something a little meaner than he intended but they know he doesn't mean it.

He's the second cos he doesn't know yet how he would lead the newsies. He keeps his feet on the ground hard and sucks at all that mothering Jack does. He's also used to doing his own thing and what's he supposed to do when people start looking up to him for guidance?

He also definitely puts away some money just not as obvious like Jack to help out the ones that are down on their luck at the moment. He would be the official secretary if newsies had one. No, Jack, we absolutely do not have money for that. No, Henry, don't take 100 papes. Why? One cos yous not Jack, you're shit at selling, two the headline sucks and chances are you'll be eating 20% of what's it worth and you can't afford that

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oh-three · 2 years

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Ooooh lust for Vori, pride for Rak and wrath for Brakan

Ooh, the three agemates.

Lust - Vori

What is your oc's sexual/romantic orientation? I'd say she's straight, but I could see her being a lesbian if the right person was thrown into the vicinity.

Is your oc dating anyone? If so, who? The Guard strictly follows the Jedi Code, but I could see her dating Brakan. She's enthusiastic, he's a bit shy, it would be a pretty interesting relationship.

Would you say your oc is bashful about intimate conversations, or are they the blunt one that makes everyone else uncomfortable? Oh, blunt for sure, but in the good way. She'd be the one trying to get her friends together in relationships or giving away their secrets if she thought it would help them.

Does your oc judge other couples? If so why? Vori isn't a judgy type of person, but I could see her doing so with relationships within the unit. She wouldn't judge badly, just on scales of good and neutral.

Is your oc confident in their relationship? Why or why not? Between her and Brak, definitely. He's so soft-spoken, and she's incredibly outgoing. She has enough confidence for the both of them. In general, though, she's confident in nearly every situation she is thrown into. A lack of it is cause for concern.

What is your oc's favorite way to show affection? Teasing. She loves teasing her agemates (Brak and Rak, even if one of them acts like he's fifty years old already). Fondly, of course. Linaleh and Tindri are the meaner teasers.

Pride - Rakesh

Is your oc a leader? Who do they lead? As a member of the Guard, he prefers to stay in the background and avoid attention. He's the opposite as an Inquisitor, tired of being controlled by those whom he deems incompetent.

Does your oc trust the judgment of others? Rak is pretty complicated in terms of trusting others' judgement. It definitely depends on who and the situation. He trusts Cin Drallig and Jurr with his life (I'd say they're even like father or uncle figures to him), but there's no way he's trusting Loktof's judgement. Linaleh and Tindri vary, with their similar personalities (which happen to be either really caring or mocking at certain times). He trusts Brak's judgement as well, because Brak is just way too honest. As for Vori, it depends on how high her level of enthusiasm is when he asks for her judgement.

How well or not well does your oc take constructive criticism? This one strongly depends on what the criticism is for and what mood he is in regarding the event he's receiving it for. He'll never admit it, but he is very emotionally vulnerable.

Is your oc very vain? Explain. laughs Yes, yes he is. And when he's not, the others should be concerned.

How does your oc take pride in themself and others? In terms of himself, Rak tends to get smug and overconfident- not so great in combat against Loktof, it turns out. In terms of taking pride in others, he gives rare smiles. He's never been a smiley guy.

What does your oc think their best trait is? Is it true? Rak definitely sees himself as being very independent. Ironically, he does rely on the presence of the others to keep him grounded, whether he'll admit it or not.

Wrath - Brakan

Does your character anger easily? Why or why not? Despite a Zabrak's aggressiveness, Brakan is actually rather peaceful, thanks to his Jedi training.

Describe a point where your oc was the maddest they've ever been. If Brak's ever been angered, it was probably by someone stealing his desert or something. The others see him as needing to be protected, and therefore don't pick on him much.

Is your oc easy to disappoint? How so? Brak doesn't really hold expectations for much, and because of that is difficult to disappoint. The rest of the unit also does their best to fulfill his every need.

Is your oc physically strong? He's on the skinny side for his species, and is therefore not physically very powerful. Nonetheless, he is skilled with a lightsaber, if a bit less so than the others. His primary strength comes from the Force and from peace of mind.

How does your oc act toward anger from others? When others show signs of anger, Brakan becomes visibly uncomfortable and fidgets a bit. If the anger is strong enough, he becomes genuinely terrified and either flees the scene or freezes, depending on the scenario and who the anger is getting put onto.

Does your oc see intimidation as a good tactic to gain respect? Brakan does not condone intimidation in any situation, and definitely not as one intended by another to use in order to gain respect. He would never try to intimidate anyone, and would be easy to intimidate.

#thanks for the ask!

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manehead · 2 years

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I am not worth a fight

In which Reader has a short temper and will always defend Bruno, no matter what (bit dramatic)

“Tú! How dare you? Stop mistreating and accusing him like it’s his fault! Did he predict something bad about your future? News flash! He can only see what is going to happen, he has no control over it!”, you snapped, feeling everyone’s eyes on your figure.

To be completely fair, you really didn’t mean to cause a scene; you had tried to clench your teeth while you and Bruno were at the plaza watching amused el pequeño Antonio playing with his friends, catching all those people glancing at the man near you, whispering mean comments.

And yet you didn’t react because you knew Bruno’d be too embarrassed and self conscious about having all that attention on himself; but seeing him shifting uncomfortable under those spiteful eyes, gulping nervously as he couldn’t even enjoy his precious time with his nephew, struggling to pretend that everything was fine, made your blood boil in your veins.

Still, you hadn’t say a word — definitely not thinking about how liberating it would have felt to punch each one of them.

That was until some older man decided to ruin the day completely and marched in Bruno’s direction shouting about some vision which had showed his estúpida collection of cactus completely dried out.

“Tù! Aquí estás! It’s your fault! It’s all your fault! You made my cactus die! Él malo Bruno—“

The whole situation would have been almost hilarious, something you and Bruno would have laughed at and shared at dinner with his familia that night, begging Camilo to turn into the man to show how ridiculous he had been, if it wasn’t for the fact that that specific man had followed Bruno around for days in order to get a vision, even though the curly haired man was obviously busy and warned him of the possible consequences — as he always did.

Your head turned around to a worried Bruno, who was attempting to become smaller, hiding in his shoulders, preparing to defend himself as the man looked like he was ready to throw hands at him. It made you even angrier — that was the last straw. So, you finally snapped.

“Él es maldito! My collection of cactus, mi preciosa collection! One whole year of struggles—“

“Oh, cry me a river! I bet you didn’t even took proper care of your plants. Besides, may I remind you it was you who followed him around not caring about what he was doing, questioning and insisting even though he told you clearly it wasn’t a good idea and yet, you are the one complaining!”, you took a step forward in his direction with each word.

“It— it’s not that— I didn’t—“, he stammered, looking around trying to find some back up, his façade quickly coming down as he began to retreat nervously.

“Escucha me, Bruno is way too nice and gentle to say anything, you don’t deserve him, but let me give you a vision myself, if you”, you pointed your finger against all the villagers, “If any of you keeps bothering Bruno nonsense, you will have to deal with me, and I am most definitely not playing around”, you threatened firmly, not trying to hold back the rage anymore.

Everyone looked at you in silence, staring back between you and Bruno, who hadn’t say anything yet, or locking their gaze on the ground, no one even daring to add any other word to your speech.

You couldn’t help but grin at your victory, yet your smile soon dropped when you heard Bruno hissing firmly to you, “Vamos”, grabbing your arm. “Tonito, I bet Dolores is already coming, just wait for her right here”. The little one nodded, offering you a worried smile. Mierda.

The two of you remained silent during the whole trip back to Casita, letting you eventually come to your senses with what you just did in the village.

Maldición, did you actually say all of that? Even though you could have been way meaner— No. Bad idea.

Cursing at yourself for being so impetuous, you wished you could see Bruno’s face in order to find any sign of anger or worst, disappointment, but he was walking a few steps ahead and, honestly, you didn’t have the gut to ask him to stop and turn around.

You went back to the Casita and he hadn’t look back to you even once, he simply continued walking towards his room. Terror was now spreading in your body: not knowing how he was feeling was killing you slowly and without mercy. You felt your stomach twisting and your mouth was dry. What if he is mad? He could be mad. He has the right to be mad. He looks mad. I didn’t mean to overstep, he knows I did mean well. He knows it, right?

“Bruno, please, let me—“, you blurted out once in his room, trying desperately to save what could be saved, but one harsh look from Bruno was enough to shut your mouth. You gulped waiting for your destiny, like you were going to be put through the wringer.

“You didn’t have to say any of that. What were you thinking?”, he questioned bitter, his voice deeper than it had ever been. He was definitely mad. “I am used to it, I am used to being looked up and down and- and talked back, but you— you can’t be the one people get mad at, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment, so what made you think it was a good idea for you to say that? Why did you defend me? Now those people will assume things—“.

“Let them”, you mumbled under your breath. Bruno sighed, shaking his head, not daring to dig any further in that. “No, they can’t. I won’t let them. I won’t let them say bad things about you because you felt pity for me”.

“You think that’s why I said all of that?”, you asked shocked. “You don’t deserve the way they treat you! No está bien just because you are used to it, Bruno!”, you were getting yourself worked up here, again. “Are you being for real?”.

“Sí!”, he yelled, taking you by surprise. “I am being for real, because what is going to happen when people will get the idea that maybe we are—“, he gesticulated with his hands between the two of you, as he searched for the right word “— close, and will start mistreating you for that, and you will eventually grow into hating me like everyone else, and will leave me alone because that’s what’s gonna happen, I know it, I have been there! Èl maldito Bruno deserves nothing but this loneliness—“, your head felt dizzy. You had been so careless. All he cared about was you.

His eyes shifted to a light green because of his intense emotions and you couldn’t help noticing the tears forming in the corners. “Deja. Deja, lo entiendo Bruno”, you begged him.

“I am not saying anything that it’s not true”. He looked at you completely defeated, tired, sad and you hated each one of those people who had ever made him feel bad about himself.

“I promise you I am not going anywhere—“, he chuckled, a knowing, melancholy smile on his face. “Lo dices ahora”, he whispered. You came closer to where he was, watching his eyes light up in surprise.

“Sí, I say this now, but I do know myself, you know me, and when I tell you that I stood up for you not out of pity but because I genuinely care about you, and not because we may be— close, but because you do deserve love and acceptance like everyone else, I need you to believe my words”, his eyes followed attentively your steps, until the two of you were only a few inches away from each other.

“I understand that life hasn’t been very easy for you, but I intend to be part of yours for a long time, if you will let me”, at this point tears were rolling down on both of your faces. You gently caressed his cheek, resting your hand and letting him slowly lay there. “And if you will have me, you will also get these parts, where I will pick up fight with people for how they treat you, or I will get mad at you when you don’t recognise your own worth, and I will work my ass off, reminding you everyday how amazing you are and that you deserve every kindness in this world if that is what it takes to make you believe me”, you stated. His hand was now on yours, a crocked smile forming on his lips.

“…People will assume things—“, he repeated. “Why do you keep saying that?”, you asked. “I don’t want your status to be dragged down because of me”.

“What—?”. “People will assume we are— ay, cómo puedo— you know… together”, he mumbled, spreading butterflies into your stomach just at the thought of the possibility.

“As I said, let them”.

He shook his head. “You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t want that”, you don’t want me, he wanted to add. Shifting from the previous position, he took a step back, not looking at you anymore.

“How do you know that?”, you uttered, feeling hurt: does he really think that little about me?. “Can you stop thinking about what everyone else is gonna believe for one moment? Could you stop assuming what I—“

“I don’t have that privilege! En verdad, I don’t understand why we are even discussing it in the first place, it is not like you have any feelings for me at all!”. Silence filled the room. His chest was going up and down due to his rage, his heavy breathing the only sound other than your incessant heartbeat.

You felt your ears ringing. Now, you have to tell him how you feel now. It’s now or never: but no words escaped your mouth.

Bruno sighed defeated and started mumbling to himself, fidgeting with his ruana: “Entonces, I will go back to the village and explain to everyone that you really didn’t mean what you said before and everything will be fine—“.

“I do”, you admitted whispering, not daring to look at him.

He stopped his ranting. “Qué?”.

You gulped, fighting to gain the courage you needed to speak up. “I do have feelings for you. I had for a while. So, if people start assuming things it wouldn’t— I mean, I wouldn’t complain”, great speech, you thought.

“You don’t have to say that—“

“Bruno—“

“Por favor, don’t lie to me—“

“Dios, would you stop assuming things and let me talk!”

Bruno stayed quiet and in order to avoid meeting his gaze, you went on: “It drives me mad that people mistreat you, not when you are so kind and gentle, and I get it, I am a mess, so sí, I wasn’t thinking about how you would have felt about it, y lo siento, I am sorry about that, but not about what I said because I meant it and I would do it again. I will pick up a thousand fights for you, because you are so worth it”, you sighed, the urge of saying how you felt was so strong, winning over all your fears, and all those emotions you had desperately wanted to keep secret, that you had kept locked deep down for so long, were now screaming to be heard.

“Te amo, Bruno. Not out of pity, but truly and fondly and hardly, seriously, sometimes it takes a lot just not to kiss you and— and other things— and, fuck, I had a point, I wanted to give you a big speech about this because it feels big to me, and—“ you had now lost control over your words, praying that the earth could just dig an huge hole and let you fall in it. “And I love you and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud, I love you, and you deserve the world and more, and I love you, no one will ever make me want to not be with you, and I love you and now I have to shut up, fuck, stop—“.

Realising you had been holding your breath this entire time, you exhaled, forcing yourself to look at Bruno’s face, because you had to know: he was left completely speechless, his cheeks still wet with tears but his eyes were now sparkling, and, you wouldn’t dare to be sure, wouldn’t dare to hope, but a tiny smile was now appearing on his lips.

“I am not lying. Por favor, say something”, you begged.

Not dropping his smile, Bruno came slowly closer. “You’re shivering”, he observed. You rolled your eyes, physically forcing yourself not to run away. “No me diga…”.

Bruno cupped your face in his hands, so kindly, so tenderly. “You smell good”, you whispered so softly he thought he imagined it. Regret came across your face and Bruno let out a little laugh and seriously, you were going to combust. “You’re shivering too”.

Your hearts were pounding so hard against your chests and all you could think about was how close he was standing. “Did you mean it?”, you caught that subtle doubting in his voice again and all you wanted was for that to disappear. “Do you really love me?”.

“Didn’t you notice?” you couldn’t help to not let slip out how desperate you were.

“I never dared to hope that, honestly. Not with you, not me”, his voice cracked. He was now caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you— I mean, well… Do you— No, alright… Lo siento, I promise I am better at this, it’s just that you are so close and your eyes are so green and I am mumbling all over again, please show a little mercy on me—“, his lips were now way too close to yours. His smile was so beautiful you had to restrain yourself not to kiss him right there.

“If only you knew for how long I have been waiting for this — These words, from you”, his voice sounded so incredulous. Bruno stared at you for what seemed like years, still smiling, as you were the most beautiful miracle he had ever seen in his life.

“Alright, let me.. I am sorry amor, lo siento if I can’t express well what I feel, but, it feels so unreal—“, he confessed, his voice trembling, “I couldn’t even — How could you love me? I didn’t stand a chance. When you stood up for me, I felt— overwhelmed by all these emotions, fear, love, protectiveness, and I got mad, y lo siento, because I know how it feels like to be left out and the idea of you being mistreated, or even just the thought of you walking away from me— No. You light up every room you are in, you are breathtaking, eres la razón de mi sonrisas, la única—“, you gave a small whimper, smiling tenderly. “The idea of you loving me—”, he shook his head. “Not even en mi sueños”.

“Funny of you to say that, because I feel like I am dreaming”.

You both giggled softly. Your forehead were now touching, his hands still gently on your burning cheeks. His eyes searched yours. “Then I really don’t want to wake up”, he whispered, brushing his lips to yours, so kindly asking for your consent.

You finally kissed him, a kiss you had wanted for as long as you could remember, and it was even better than anything you ever expected. He was better than anything you ever expected. His lips locked perfectly with yours, as you both grinned into it. His hands grabbed your waist, as yours were on his neck, holding each other closer as you could, feeling the need, after all that time, to be juntos.

“Te amo”, he confessed, putting so careful a small lock of hair behind your ear. “Gracias por fighting for me, for not giving up on me— gracias”.

You gave him another kiss. “I will always fight for you, Bruno. You are so worth it”.

“You know, I thought you were going to punch that guy”

“Maybe I should have—“

“Oy—“

“Qué? It isn’t like he didn’t deserve it, or do you think I couldn’t handle him?”

“No, mi amor, I am sure you could. I was actually worried about him”

“Ah, a quien lo importa— there’s nothing Julieta’s arepas can’t pull back together”

#disney bruno #encanto bruno #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal headcanons #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x y/n #disney encanto #tio bruno #bruno x reader #familia madrigal #encanto #encanto headcanons #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #bruno madrigal x you #encanto fic #encanto x reader

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smexy-slashers · 2 years

Text

Kiss

Vincent Sinclair x Reader

My irl friend requested this! So bae when you see this I hope it's okay TwT.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't remember how long you had been living down in the basement. Four months? Five? It didn't matter anymore; You were never going to leave, the twins wouldn't let you anyway. You would probably be killed if you tried, so being complacent was the wisest option.

Bo, the older and meaner of the twins, was the one you rarely saw, but dreaded when you did. On the occasion that he actually came down to the basement to talk to Vincent about his 'work', he treated you like a pet, or a chore he didn't want to do. God forbid you made eye-contant, because if you did, he jumped straight into insulting you, or, if he was in a particularly bad mood, attempting to hit you. Vincent, being your favorite of the two, never let him make contact though.

Vincent was a completely different story than Bo. He was probably the only reason you were still breathing. When you were passing through with your 'boyfriend', his car broke down. A man named Lester, who you could now identify as Bo and Vincent's baby brother, stumbled across the two of you and gave you a ride to the nearby town, Ambrose, to see the mechanic, Bo.

You didn't know when you realised something was terribly wrong, but by the time you did, your boyfriend was already dead, his body waxed up and in the 'house of wax' museum. You had escaped from Bo's slimy clutches, but Vincent wasn't far behind. It was at that point you knew that no matter what you did, you were going to die. There's no way you could fight off two fully grown men and win, even if you did have a weapon.

So, instead of kicking and screaming, you accepted your fate, and waited for the masked man to kill you. Your complacency had kept you alive, as once Vincent saw how defenseless and tired you were, he refused to harm you, going as far as to convince Bo to let him keep you.

That was how you ended up living in the basement with Vincent, who brought you meals twice a day and was probably the only person who treated you like a human being and not a pet dog.

At the moment, you were curled up on the basement floor, fiddling around with a piece of clay Vincent had given you to keep you occupied whilst he went out and dealt with a couple of survivors.

It had been quiet, until the basement door slammed up, causing you to jump and scramble under the work bench. Fear jolted through in that moment ; What if it wasn't Vincent or Bo?

You noticed a familiar pair of boots, which instantly made you relax, and you were about to come out, when they were joined by another pair.

"Ya useless fuck! The hell were you thinkin'?! She coulda gotten away and told the whole damn world what we been doin'! Ya wanna be locked up?"

It was Bo, and by the sound of it, was absolutely fucking furious, so, it was a good thing that you had decided to remain hidden, as if he had seen you he definitely would have taken his anger out on you instead of his brother.

"Fuckin freak...I dunno what Ma could see in you...jesus christ."

You frowned. This was too far, even if you knew Bo didn't mean any of it. He had a tendency to treat his brothers like pieces of scum if he was in a bad mood, and you doubted that he apologized for it later.

After a few more grumbled insults, the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs, and the basement door was slammed shut once more.

"Vincent...?"

You called out carefully, watching as his movement paused and he crouched down to peer under his work bench, regarding you with a small head tilt, as if asking what you were doing.

"Sorry..I thought someone else had come down here so I hid..are you...okay?"

He said nothing, like always, but called you forward with a beckoning hand. You complied, crawling towards him and allowing the behemoth of a man to carefully pull you into his lap.

Vincent liked being physically affectionate with you, which you had a come to find out a few weeks in to your captivity. He was a gentle giant, not being able to convey anything through words, so he took to soft touches and delicate strokes of your skin to demonstrate his liking towards you.

You clutched the fabric of his jacket to keep yourself steady, balancing your body on his knee as he kneaded the flesh of your thigh, pressing the nose of his wax mask into your hair and inhaling deeply; You shivered.

Vincent was the main reason you had begun to tolerate your permanence here, as you knew you were never escaping with your life. You leaned into his touch, craving it, as he was the only one who touched you anymore.

"I'm sorry...about what your brother said.."

You mumbled against him, and he sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small sticky note and a pen. He scribbled down his answer, then showed it to you

'Not your fault. Never your fault.'

"I know but...I feel bad. I'd intervene but...Bo would probably kill me if I tried.."

Vincent audibly growled, making you jump as he rarely ever made a sound. He scribbled down something again, and your heart warmed at the words.

'I won't let him. You're mine'

You should of been disturbed as his declaration of you being his, but you weren't. It made you feel safe, protected even. You knew that aslong you stayed here, and you belonged to him, nothing would hurt you again.

"I'm yours" you affirmed, and he let out a pleased grumbled into the base of your neck as you played with his long, black hair, twirling the strands between your fingers.

Vincent scooped you up easily, carrying you over to the bed in the corner that you both shared. He laid you down, then climbed in beside you, resting a hand at your hip and you stared into his blue eye. You smiled.

"Can I kiss you?"

You asked absentmindedly, suprising even yourself. You hadn't thought about it much, but you felt something for Vincent, beyond platonic boundaries, and beyond the fact that he was your caretaker.

Vincent stared at you for a long time, and you considered retracting your request, but then he pulled you closer to him and liften his mask up just enough to reveal his lips, half of which were terribly scarred.

You saw this as permission, swiftly leaning forward and kissing him gently, closing your eyes and melting into his warmth. He sighed into you, causing a shiver to run down your spine, and when you broke apart for air, you found yourself light headed and flushed.

No words were said after the kiss, but there wasn't need for sound. The way he held you afterwards was your confirmation that he shared what you were feeling for him this entire time.

#vincent sinclair #slashers

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red-doll-face · 3 years

Note

S/O survivor that's popular amoung the other survivors because they are incredibly honest, kind/sweet, selfless, often put others before themselves, and tends to overwork themselves for others. The other survivors tend to be incredibly drawn to them. For: Joey, Frank, Ghostface/Danny, and Wraith Please?

Sure! I hope u enjoy my characterization because Joey has very little backstory and thank god bc dbd has been shitting themselves when it comes to lore lately. These came out a little sadder than I wanted them to but shrug

Sweet gn Reader x DBD killers Hcs

Joey ‘The Legion’

Joey doesn't understand why you're so nice all the time. It doesn't benefit you, you're always exhausted; on top of all of that, all you get in return is a thanks and measly smile.

Eventually, he can see why your kindness or where your kindness might actually pay off. It returns to you in his trials against you where he can observe your teammates going out of their way to help you, to pay back for the things you do for them.

He hears from his friends that your kindness is sometimes the reason for your success and your downfall, you can go back and get a save during the endgame that saves your teammates life or you just end up dying too.

Joey can admit he's a little envious and maybe even a little jealous. He’s envious that you get to even be nice, of how outgoing you are. He’s jealous of how much you make them smile. How much you smile because of them. Unafraid to show you special treatment because of your relationship with him. He’ll make up sooner or later.

He’s surprised that you end up liking him. He’s a killer, a little withdrawn for you he thinks but you always let him stay in his comfort zone and include him so he doesn't feel cut out of your life. He's grateful that out of all the people you could possibly choose to hold close, you chose him.

Makes sure you take ample breaks so that you’re not entirely worn out by your altruistic tendencies.

Frank ‘The Legion’ Morrison

God, he hates you. You’re so… nice all the damn time! But he loves you for it too and he doesn't like that at first. It’s probably why you even caught his attention. A beacon of light in such a dark place has him gravitating towards you like your fellow survivors. You so obviously stick out among your teammates.

Also gets a little jealous at how your kindness isn’t just for him. Stop healing and smiling at other people! He knows that this is just who you are but he still gets a little mad because he's a bit of an attention whore, mostly for your attention.

Frank genuinely tries to get you to be a little meaner. He wants you to see the ‘error in your ways’. How much safer you would be if you didnt save all of these people and put your ass on the line for some piece of shit who wouldn't do the same for you.

This stems from his anger that he can’t always be there to protect you so the fact that he knows that you often go the extra mile for your friends upsets him.

Frank is angry yet endeared by your kindness and as much as he wants you to feel the consequences of your selflessness, he still offers you a shelter in the storm.

Danny ‘The Ghostface’ Johnson

Why are you like this? What has kindness ever rewarded you that makes it so worth it to act like some sort of pious saint? He simply does not get it. Definitely another one who is like “aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit?” Danny wants you to understand what cruelty has rewarded him with but he has very little to show for it.

At first, he thought it might have been a sort of venus fly trap, catching more flies with honey act much like his own alter ego, but to find that it's real makes him want to break it out of you. The more and more you come back just as sweet as before gets him more interested in you, finding your light quickly becoming something he wants to keep for himself.

In trials with you, Danny tries to save you for last but he’ll still injure you so the entity just assumes you’re one slippery fish. Who knows if that's actually working.

Danny is very possessive over not just you but also your actions, he wants to control them and keep your nice words to himself but his powerlessness in this regard makes him so mad.

Overall, your kindness is something that he easily takes advantage of and even lies a lot about who he used to be to garner sympathy from you. He might get caught in his lies at some point but he's quick with excuses. He loves your attention and how much you make his teeth hurt from being so sweet.

Philip ‘The Wraith’ Ojomo

Philip is so fascinated by you, he is literally a moth to your flame. The kindness you treat your teammates with has him wishing he were a survivor too. He wants you to gently wrap bandages around him and smile at him and joke with him.

When he finds you're nice to even him, a mere shadow of what he used to be, he’s half convinced that you're an angel or some kind divine spirit. Then he wishes even more to be able to take you away from here. Philip knows that you don’t belong here.

Spends a lot of his time watching you be nice to other people but when you show him your smile and get to know him, he truly is a gentle giant, bowing to press shimmery kisses to your forehead and receiving them from you.

Wants you to take better care of yourself, he is afraid you’ll wear yourself thin. Especially since he doesn’t control how cruel other killers are or how much they might use your attitude against you.

Dreads being in trials with you, hates the thought of hurting such a soul as yours. Ignores you as much as possible, hoping to a higher power that you escape. If you don’t and he is forced to kill you, he refuses to think himself worthy of you and tries to give you space.

Your spirit of tenderness is something so surreal to him and he thinks you are his new sunshine. You keep him warm in such a cold place as the fog. Philip wouldn’t trade you for anything.

This is my first time writing for wraith so I hope these are ok! Thanks for reading and requesting! 💖

#slasher x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #danny jed olsen johnson #joey legion #joey x reader #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #ghostface x reader #dbd joey #dbd wraith #philip ojomo #philip ojomo x reader #red writes #danny johnson x reader

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose.

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas.

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones.

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him.

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too.

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him.

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders.

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation.

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement.

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn��t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped.

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be.

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits.

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!”

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined.

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you.

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet.

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees.

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see.

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you.

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room.

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars.

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal.

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas.

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more.

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you.

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips.

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you.

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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scoups4lyfe · 2 years

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Hey , I'm back. So yeah I do want to know about your Revice ships. Because Revice is the first show where I'm unable to show anyone. Literally, everyone turns about to be a backstabber or a traitor. If I lived in Revice world, I wouldn't even trust my shadow lol

Ahhh Valentines-Anon <33. Welcome back,,,

Revice is complicated because of how everything relates to eachother. Like the healthiest ship in the entire show was probably Hiromi x Ikki. (Two halves of one whole those two)

And man *THAT* was fking obliterated,,,,, LMAOOO.

If I lived in Revice I'd either be one of three people:

Oltecca, Daiji, or George

Right, so I'm gonna answer my ships below the cut

So, I'll explain each of the ships, and I'll give a ranking out of 10 (10 being best ship, and 1 being, ehhhhh according to how I vibe with them)

Ikki x George

Rank: 11/10 (very compelling)

So, at first I was just vibing along, but George......hmm. Once we got to episode 18 this ship really solidified for me, and now just even more so.

Ikki is.....so alone. George is the first person to actually give him *power*. For the first time Ikki was the one being gifted things, and not vice-versa.

Their interactions in the beginning were mostly very sparse,,,,because well,,,Ikki never really went to Fenix unless he had to. My guy really avoided that place because it had nothing to do with his family. But then, Ikki helped George in episode 13 and that was a major turning point in their relationship.

Even more so in episode 17 when Ikki becomes George's labrat.

During that time, George watched as Ikki went through mental / physical torture all so that he could save the 3 enemies that have been trying to kill him.

Now, if that isn't the perfect definition of a Kamen Rider, then Idk what is.

Being alone with Ikki during this time allowed George time to actually 'experience' what the other is like. In such close proximity, the other literally at his full mercy, 100% trust in him, well.... he couldn't help but grow soft.

This is literally George's dream come true. Ikki is his perfect Kamen Rider. He continually surpasses George's expectations, and that surprises George. My guy likes to lord over his knowledge of other people. And yet, for as predictable as Ikki can be, he ALWAYS manages to somehow impress and / or go beyond what George thought was going to happen.

Which is why in ep 18, George is so remorseful and guilty. It's not because 'his favorite toy got broken' but because the object of his dreams/desires almost died because of something he made,,,,,

Yet Ikki STILL manages to come out on top and surprise George.

But of course, the great Hiromi-Demons scandal came to light and now their relationship has changed. Before, Ikki put his blind faith in George, but now......now he's understandably doubtful of what George gives him, or makes for him.

George understands it. But it irritates him.

It irritates him because George knows he would never do something like that to *Ikki*. Either way, his response is super toxic

During the Daiji + Ikki HQ confrontation, he takes Ikki's grip/anger and puts enough pressure on it to put *HIMSELF* in control. Which....is a very interesting thing George does whenever he's being attacked (emotionally or otherwise)

He becomes meaner, in order to throw the other person off balance so he can take control of the situation. We see this behavior again at the beginning of ep 22, when Ikki asks if "this is just another experiment".

Already things between the two of them are tense because of Hiromi going MIA. AND on the day of his father's death anniversary? When he's giving Ikki a gift?

(Also Notice here, George sought to 'cleanse' himself at their bath house. There are so many places George could go to take a bath. This 'cleanse' thing really sounds like nonsense. But if this is George seeking out comfort from the (1) source he actually feels a connection to? Damn. That's......

And then if you see the stamp as an extra peace offering? Of George hoping to make amends / apologize, in his own way? Just, wow.

Of course, since Ikki questions him, his tune changes. And there is what I find really interesting about their dynamic,,,,

George reminds Ikki that the one who has all the power in their relationship,,,,is infact George. George is the one who gave Ikki the things he can use to fight, he's the one that made and designed them. Basically, Ikki's "freedom" so to say, is in the palm of his hands.

Even more interesting are Ikki's microexpressions. I already said this in my liveblog, but I'll say it again. Ikki feels GUILT for questioning George. Both because his father scolded him (yes) but ALSO because Ikki only has George now that Hiromi's gone.

And losing that scares him. Being betrayed by his only "living" non-familial connection is something he's so so soooo deeply afraid of. Ikki doesn't like feeling used.....but he would much rather be used and hurt then to lose the only source of comfort he has left from the stresses and pressures of his family life. It's why even tho he has doubts about the Rolling Stamp,,,, Ikki still decides to use it.

(That, and Vice needing help.)

It's because Ikki WANTS to trust George. If Ikki loses George then he has to go back to handling EVERYTHING on his own. (Yeah his family helps, but again, Ikki doesn't CONFIDE in any of them. Or really let them support him/lighten the burdens from his shoulders)

This creates a really toxic co-dependency between George and Ikki.

Ikki wants George's comfort, not his ire. (Hence him touching George's hand unnecessarily while taking the stamp. Whether this is a subconscious choice or not, Ikki wants George to comfort him. If George had like idk, hugged Ikki here, or something, Ikki probably would've broken down into tears and never questioned a thing George said ever again 🤪🤪🤪🤪 )

But George pulls back. He *KNOWS* that Ikki is feeling both remorseful and shame. He recognizes that Ikki most likely wants some form of comfort. But George wanted to punish Ikki for questioning him to begin with.

It's why he pulls back so quick and leaves. It's like he's saying: *I* don't need yOU, YOU need ME.

Now, is that manipulative and fcked up? Hell yeah.

But it's the fact that Ikki ALSO has power over George that really gets me. Ikki is everything George has ever wanted for his "ideal" kamen rider. AND Ikki is also HIS creation (Kamen-Rider, wise.) Ikki has more of an effect on George's emotions than he realizes.

(I mean it doesn't help that the Igarashi fam doesn't have a single braincell in any of their genes 🤪 lmao)

Anyways, I just find their dynamic *SO* interesting. And 1001% ship it.

****

Ikki x Hiromi

Rank: 7.9/10

Ahhh the other-halves. I was mostly joking when I made ship-y comments of these two earlier on. But wow, episode 20 REALLY gives. As I said before, these two really like the only non-toxic ship in this show LOL!!!

They support and understand each other. Unfortunately. Hiromi is a lil too much like Ikki.

Either way, I do ship them, and there's a lot there <33.

***

Oltecca x Julio

Rank: 11.2 /10

lemme explain myself before you start throwing rocks LOL.

I've already started writing a gen-ISH fic for revice, and there are SO many thing for these two??

Basically, basically, basically.

Julio was the oNLY PERSON Oltecca was actually connected to. That was his closest and most positive relationship, perhaps in his life. Oltecca is very obv someone who experienced severe neglect growing up. His lack of solid attachments, and rather sheltered more upper-class upbringing made him prime rib (metaphorically speaking) for that Davy Jones Mfer to whisk him off the streets and into the Deadmans cult.

After researching Cults, it only made me really appreciate the complex relationship these two had. Oltecca knew Aguilera was going to be sacrificed, but Julio? Julio and him were on the same playing field. They were equal. And since they were ALWAYS with each other ----because cults like to isolate cult members from most other cult members,,,,, that led to them basically living together. Being together 24/7.

If y'all think Aguilera choking Julio is fked, just know that sh*t more than likely happened to Oltecca as well. He has also been through intense psychological, emotional, and physical abuse.

(Maybe worse....which I'd rather not consider.)

Of course Julio put Aguilera first. Which probably irked Oltecca, who knew she was just a fake stand-in. But what was he going to do? Tell that to Julio? Nawwwww. Oltecca probably doesn't even KNO how much Julio knows.

(Cults are secretive afterall, because if members get talking they won't be as isolated;;; which means it'll be easier for them to start to form doubts. )

Anyways.

I feel like you can write some really compelling sh*t between the two of them. Is this ship toxic asf? Helllllls yeah.

Is it a ship we should be shipping? 👀.....no 👻. Probably not. But there's a lot of unearthed history there, as well as intense emotions. So idk?

I guess for me,,,, when it comes to shipping I really like reading things that make for an interesting narrative. Like yeah 'wholesome' ships are cute, but I like drama and angst LOL.

Kagerou / Daiji x Oltecca

Rank: 9.3/10

Hahaaaa comE ON, now.

Of course I'd ship these two <33. Oltecca really sees himself in Daiji, and he wants Daiji to y'know wake up and realize something along the lines of "your family never loved you, you will always be nothing to them, they will never care about you" kind of way.

Like, Oltecca WANTS to corrupt Daiji. It's like he's looked into a really sh*tty mirror of himself, and now he's obsessed with getting Daiji to break like he did.

(Idk ppl really do be obsessed with being 'understood' and Oltecca on some level, believes that Daiji is someone that COULD understand him. Which is why he's always so interested in Kagerou. Very Hannibal-Will Graham-esque kind of thing )

This dynamic <333.

Sakura x Aguilera

Rank: Hmmmm 6.7/10

Do I even really need to explain this one?

It's not as highly ranked, but mostly becuase y'know its not really tailored to my tastes? Like I have a bad tendency of forgetting females exist (hHAHoahoahOHAHAHAH rip) , sh#t ain't on purpose but idk neither of them are really 'my type' and so that zaps my interest, babyyyy.

But I DO see their appeal, and would like to see how they evolve from here :33.

George x his evil co-workers /co-works in gen I guess

Rank: unrankable

LOL

So George I think is someone that is very shippable. Same vibes as like Jim Kirk from Star Trek,,,,but like with more chaotic evil vibes going for him.

I would not be surprised if George has slept with their director, the commander (pre-death), the fake-chameleon-commander, or any older DILF guy, or just more powerful man working in the same vicinity as him.

He just appreciates having that power over others lmaOOOO.

Now do I ship George with like jsut a single one of these dudes? Eugh. No. He can fck around with them as much as he likes. But imo none of them are like what he would consider a valid option for constant companionship hahahahaha.

Honorable Mentions

(cause this is wayyyy too fking long, hELLO??)

Daiji x Hiromi: 8.5/10

more compelling for me than Ikki and Hiromi, but only because I know that Daiji gets really fked up dealing with ppl like Ikki (self-sacrificial martyrs) and so essentially at first his desire to help is because of projection (Daiji wants to help Ikki but y'know...IKKI, yada yada yada),,,,

So then his new mission is to help Hiromi. Hiromi ALSO ain't the easiest to help tho. Which fuels Daiji's obsessive hovering. He wants to do for Hiromi what he wasn't able to do for his brother. (Is Hiromi closer to Ikki? Helllllsssss yeah. Not the point tho)

Anyways, this makes for a really interesting ship.

Daiji x George: 7.4/10

George *appreciates* Daiji. Daiji isn't Ikki,,,,that's for sure,,,,but he IS still great Kamen Rider material.

George x Hiromi: 7.6/10

Enemies to begrudging allies to lovers

Oltecca x Ikki: 8/10

Oltecca is irked that Ikki is someone that seems to have it all. Someone so 'perfect.' I could see him wanting to mess him up a bit. Healthy ship? Nope. But it involves Oltecca,,,like wht did you expect?

But would make really interesting material.

Oltecca x George: unrankable

these two never would have crossed my mind as a viable ship,,,,,just cause y'know? They've never really interacted? but someone sent me this:

and I've been haunted ever since.

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chaotic-mercury · 3 years

Text

Ikevamp Suitors and Their Reactions to Anime/Manga

This is so random but at around 1am I was thinking about MC and Sebastian sharing their weeb culture from the future to the residents of Comte’s mansion

• Considering MC’s gadgets still have battery and she brought a powerbank, she would show the residents anime, manga, and some episodes from different shows she downloaded

• Dazai was alive during the release of the first anime so he’s the first one MC shows it to ane he is happy to see how animation is vastly improved

• Since MC downloaded a few anime series to watch offline, she and Sebastian argue on which anime Dazai should watch first but eventually settled on Bungou Stray Dogs

• Dazai gets interested and is proud of his ability in the anime because he’s basically OP

• “I like how I’m meaner to Chuuya in this show,” Dazai beams happily, “and his anger issues are very accurate to his true self.” (historically, they also did not get along and Chuuya was more aggressive)

• “160cm? Too tall,” Dazai would point out when he is informed of Chuuya’s height, “He is way shorter. 150cm at most.”

• “This is strange. Akutagawa idolizes me? Was this intentional?” (historically, Dazai was a huge fan of Akutagawa)

• Vincent finds out about what they’ve been doing and wants to join in because he’s curious about modern day art styles

• He falls in love with the anime art style and mesmerizing animation which leads to him wanting to try out digital art

• MC explains the basics and, if MC brought an apple pencil or something similar, she lets him try

• Vincent finds drawing on a screen odd at first since the screen is slippery, but he gets used to it quickly. His main preference is still a canvas, though

• Vincent also tries drawing in the anime art style because he’s never seen it before and thus finds it interesting

• He would probably enjoy lighthearted anime such as Amagi Brilliant Park, but also likes ones with darker themes. Madoka Magica’s storytelling and symbolism through their art (especially with the witches) would seem super cool to him. Their art is so unique he’d possibly take inspiration from it for his new pieces

• His brother is a sucker for romance and would probably enjoy Kaichou Wa Maid-Sama and Oregairu. Would cry while watching A Silent Voice and Plastic Memories

• Everyone would be really intrigued, especially Theo and Leonardo, because the fact that everything is hand-drawn is amazing (it takes hundreds of frames for even a few minutes of animation!)

• They also find the idea of manga really cool because telling stories through drawings and text in a unique format is completely new to them (especially Arthur, who is also an author)

• Le Comte won’t be as surprised as the other residents and he’d be more interested in the plot. Might enjoy Ouran High School Host Club because just the idea of a host club intrigues him very much

• Leonardo would most-likely enjoy anything and is open-minded about various genres, but I think he’d be most curious about the REALLY strange ones such as Kakegurui and Hetalia.

• “Teenagers gambling? Personifications of countries? That’s so interesting wdym”

• Eventually the Japanese trio talk about anime often

• When Arthur overhears them talking about a famous detective show (Detective Conan) that was not Sherlock Holmes, he becomes intrigued

• “900 episodes and still on-going!?” Arthur might exclaim, but MC and Sebastian assure him that a lot of people catch up on the show easily because they’ve been watching it since childhood

• Arthur finds out that Conan’s name was inspired by Arthur Conan Doyle and he’s very touched that there are people who acknowledge him as an author and not just as the man behind Sherlock Holmes

• He’d also enjoy Danganronpa and really likes the murder cases, especially the ones at the 5th chapter (from personal experience they’re confusing af)

• Your Lie In April? Mozart overhears them talking about it and becomes interested. He doesn’t know some of the composers they mention since they didn’t exist in his time so he’s curious to hear their pieces

• Kaori being a rebel and changing up the pieces? Kousei’s trauma and Kaori’s death? Mozart won’t admit it but he absolutely loves the show’s emotional aspects and how accurate the music playing is

• After seeing Arthur and Mozart’s reactions, he secretly wants to know their tastes and how they’ll comment on anime incorporating their fields of expertise

• Isaac would probably enjoy Steins Gate because they discuss about various time travel theories such as black hole, wormhole, and light speed. He’s also an astronomer, so he’ll be really excited about the newer stuff he’s unfamiliar with (such as Einstein’s relativity). He’d probably do research on them afterwards

• Napoleon would enjoy anime with a lot of action, such as Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure and even Assassination Classroom (since he teaches in his spare time, would probably cry at the ending). However, he also enjoys cooking, so he’d definitely enjoy Shokugeki No Soma since they come up with such unique takes on dishes (the foodgasms amuse him very much)

• Jean would probably enjoy anime centered on religion, such as A Certain Magical Index or even Noragami (though it’s mainly about Shintoism)

• Shakespeare would enjoy anime with tragic endings, no doubt. Clannad, Elfen Lied, Grave of The Fireflies, you name it. He’d also like Another and Blood-C because there is so much gore and he loves it

• Sebastian wanted to show them yaoi at some point for his “research” but MC had to stop him

• “I think we’ve shown them enough anime,” MC would say, however Sebastian assures her it’ll be completely alright

• “What should we show them next?”

• MC pondered on this, but ultimately she thought of something wicked yet extremely entertaining

• “Sebastian! They’re vampires, remember?”

• “Yes, of course I do.”

• “Why not show them Vampire Knight? It’s a middle school throwback!”

• “That’s... a great idea. Let us proceed immediately.”

• It would be an understatement to say that the residents of the mansion are baffled as to why people in the 21st century would enjoy such things

• Arthur isn’t complaining though

• Sebastian speaks up, “okay, now we will show you a very special genre, yao—“

• “SEBASTIAN, NO”

thanks for reading my strange headcanon even though it’s super messy and makes no sense

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theo #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp jean #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp comte #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp sebastian

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xiaomomowrites · 3 years

Text

so mean, xiansheng

Genshin Impact | ZhongChi

Summary: “You still refuse to yield?” Zhongli taunts, digging the ball of his foot into his chest. “After all that, you still persist? You’ve reached for your delusion, you’ve summoned all the weapons in your armory, and now you’ve resorted to crawling away? Frankly, when Tsaritsa had explained to me that she’d send her strongest diplomat my way, I hadn’t expected this level of...incompetence.”

The blunt end of his spear makes contact with his navel, and Childe’s face burns red. Fuck, why does he want it so much lower—

"Pathetic."

Or, Childe figures out Zhongli is Rex Lapis. He challenges him to a fight, anyway.

Find it on Ao3!

This story has nothing to do with the series! I just got the urge to write Zhongli being the badass he is.

A/N: Okay I wrote this immediately after I finished my draft for act VI, so that should definitely be coming very soon! But my evil beta, Peaches, implanted this horrible idea of Zhongli being a little more mean and a little more malicious in my head, and I had no choice by to write it. One of these lines is actually hers, and I just adjusted it a bit, but it really inspired me to write a whole damn fic. Oh, the power she holds.

Let it be known that I did NOT expect this to turn out the way it did. I wanted angst, not sexual tension! But hey, sometimes fics really do write themselves. Thank you, Peaches, for helping me scratch an itch I didn't even know I had. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Find me on Twitter where I'm very chatty and talk about Genshin too much! -u.n

What the fuck.

In all fairness, Childe didn’t expect to win this fight. He really didn’t. Tartaglia had just pieced together that Zhongli was the Rex Lapis, and he had gotten ahead of himself anyway. Really, challenging a six thousand year old God? Childe has done many, many reckless things, but this has to be his stupidest trick yet. And still, still, he found himself in the Golden House, surrounded by the walls of ebony, and feeling like he was getting swallowed whole by the golden hue of the mora beneath his very feet.

Well, he was on his knees, now.

Childe pants from where he is hunched over. Somewhere in his fight against his precious Xiansheng, Zhongli had managed a good hit to his abdomen with the butt end of his weapon, and he was only mildly aware of the fact that he was bleeding internally. But on the bright side, the dull throbbing kept him from passing out right then and there; every jolt of pain that spread through his core has kept him awake and mildly aware up until this point. Childe grunted and cradled the wound with his left hand, his right one occupied with his bow. It came back stained red. Well, shit. It wasn’t so internal anymore.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Even though he knows he isn’t in immediate danger, and that Zhongli would never actually harm him, Childe’s heart still sinks terrifyingly low into his stomach. Childe whips around and ignores the burst of pain and the pressure building behind his eyelids at the sudden movement. He draws his bow, summons a hydro arrow and gets a clear shot of Zhongli’s ridiculously sexy face and—

The Archon closes the distance by twirling and tossing his polearm forward, disappearing into thin air, and warping right in front of him again in a flash of blinding gold. With a flick of Zhongli’s wrist and the slightest nudge of his spear against Childe’s weapon, the bow goes flying. It clatters somewhere far away from him, skidding until it hits one of Zhongli’s geo pillars. Childe panics slightly, using his feet to try to scoot away while frantically summoning his water blades.

Zhongli is quick, though. He never misses a beat, never leaves an opening, never lets Childe get a single hit in. And, well, maybe Childe could have worded his challenge better. The Harbinger should have known better than to hit him with the classic “hit me with everything you’ve got” because apparently, he didn’t know his own damn limits. And looking at the way the Archon hasn’t even broken a sweat, it would be safe to assume that Zhongli is only exerting maybe half of his energy. Possibly even less.

Childe, on the other hand, was already haggard from the effects of his delusion. He had summoned his stronger form sometime during the fight, reaching for the electricity that crackled within his bones for a boost in strength. Tartaglia had felt confident, then, upon seeing Zhongli looking so tiny from where the Harbinger stood. He had held himself tall and proud in that moment, all strength and lethal lightning surrounding his body. But of course, the Archon did not budge. If anything, Tartaglia remembers him smirking, looking smug from where he had stood. His eyes had flashed a brilliant gold, and the tips of his hair burned a brighter amber. Childe remembers lunging and Zhongli parrying effortlessly, countering his every attack like it was nothing but a mere dance to him. Tartaglia had even kept contact with him! Each swing he sent had touched Zhongli fair and square, but each bludgeoning hit was redirected with ease, and it slid right off the Archon like water off a duck’s back.

It had infuriated the Harbinger to no end.

But then he let his guard down, blinded by his own anger, and Zhongli had met a fist swinging wildly with his own open palm sliding against Tartaglia’s arm. The Archon had formed an invisible wedge that steered Tartaglia off course and away from his vital points. Zhongli had tilted his head slightly to the right then, lunged forward, and took his opponent down in one fell swoop.

Tartaglia didn’t remember much after that. All he remembered was that he was in pain, his joints were croaking pathetically, and he was back in his normal human form. The lingering effects of his delusion danced along his fingertips in the form of purple electricity.

But it doesn’t matter what form he takes, because Zhongli derails his train of thought as the bottom of a boot is suddenly pressed against his chest, forcing him down, and not stopping until he hits the floor. Childe wheezes, the obvious fracture in his ribs making itself known. Those geo pillars getting summoned from hell really did not do the ginger any favors, especially the one that rose up beneath his feet and slammed against his chest, sending him tumbling away and coughing.

“You still refuse to yield?” Zhongli taunts, digging the ball of his foot into his chest. “After all that, you still persist? You’ve reached for your delusion, you’ve summoned all the weapons in your armory, and now you’ve resorted to crawling away? Frankly, when Tsaritsa had explained to me that she’d send her strongest diplomat my way, I hadn’t expected this level of...incompetence.”

The blunt end of his spear makes contact with his navel, and Childe’s face burns red. Fuck, why does he want it so much lower—

Childe whimpers like a wounded animal. Because the worst part is, he’s not even wrong. And Zhongli isn’t even trying to sound mean. He simply is .

“Pathetic.”

Childe’s toes curl at the degradation.

Oh, fuck.

What is going on?!

“Stop,” he pleads. Gods above, please, please keep going, his mind betrays him.

“Oh?” Zhongli taunts, dragging his foot down until it reaches his abdomen. He uses his polearm to nudge Childe’s legs apart a little further and oh he might pass out. He digs his heel into Tartaglia’s stomach, purposely avoiding his injury. Not because he’s being nice, no. He’ll just get to that later. Childe grunts at the contact. “I don’t think you want me to, though.”

Zhongli’s eyes flicker down to Childe’s crotch, and watches with sick satisfaction at the way his hips squirm in anticipation. Zhongli waves his hand and in one motion, the weapon disappears.

“Oh Celestia,” he laughs. He laughs, and Childe’s cock twitches at the sound. It’s empty and hollow, and not at all filled with the usual joy he’s used to hearing. Childe suddenly gets the inexplicable need to swallow it. “You like this?”

Childe opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Barely a squeak, if anything. Oh Tsaritsa, what is wrong with me?

Zhongli moves his foot a little to the left, applies the slightest bit of pressure, and—

“A-Ah-!”

The god smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Childe croaks, “W-what are you—“

Zhongli stares at him with eyes that somehow became a shade darker, a shade meaner. They were filled with a hunger that was almost inhuman; an aura emitted from him that was otherworldly and frighteningly possessive. It was only in that fraction of a second that Childe was hit with the realization of just who he was looking at. This...this was no simple soldier. This was no flimsy Millelith, that he could dismantle within seconds. This was a whole deity. The oldest Archon, the dragon himself, Morax-

“You know who I am, do you not? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have challenged an innocent consultant to such a grand battle, and in the Golden House, of all places,” Zhongli summons a lone piece of mora and twirls it between his fingers, observing the way the weight felt in his hand. It glimmers faintly in the light. He doesn’t even bother to look at Tartaglia anymore.

“Kings and Gods of all realms have bowed before me,” he states with such nonchalance it makes Childe’s head spin, “whatever made you think you could be an exception?”

Childe chuckles weakly, and finally lets his head hit the floor. His eyes flutter shut in surrender. He supposes that Zhongli is right. Besides, he knows when he’s lost a battle. It was time to end this.

“Alright,” he voices, “I yield.”

“No,” Zhongli states firmly, and much to Childe’s surprise and (reluctant) delight, the Archon drops all of his weight onto him and straddles his torso, pinning his body to the ground. His hands, quick as lighting, pin Childe’s own above his head. Zhongli leans down slowly, condescendingly, until there’s barely a hair’s width between their lips. The Harbinger’s breath hitches.

“You yield when I tell you to.”

#WHOO #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli #rex lapis #morax #tartali #zhongchi #childe x zhongli #mean mean zhongli #picking on the mortals smh #childe has a bit of a uhhh degradation kink

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi You write very well !You can write something about how the Comandante Veracruz interrogates the reader.With passion.)))If you know what I mean 🥵🙏😏👉👈

Heyo this was from a while ago and I was saving it for when I was hella horny which is now so enjoy ;) btw, there is dubious consent here so please please please proceed with caution and just know that there is clear consent as the fic reads on so yeah. Brief knife kink. Brief. And I hope this is what you had in mind?

You weren’t sure what you were doing here at this ungodly hour but you kept your mouth shut and waited for him. One minute, you’re in your station, minding your own business and watching the camp, and the next thing you know, Antonio is telling you that he was taking over from you because you’re needed in the Comandante’s tent. You frown at the odd request but say nothing and head towards the south side of the base. As you make your way to the tent, you try to think of what he could possibly want from you.

You hoped he wasn’t in one of his moods where he just took his anger out on someone because that would truly be the last straw.

Once you did make it to his tent, you stood outside for a few seconds to collect your bearings before heading in. When you didn’t find him anywhere, you walked to his desk and stood in front of it, waiting for him to finally come so you could deal with whatever issue he had and be on your merry way.

“Good, you didn’t waste my time.” You hear a rough voice from behind you, almost shivering when he walks around and sits on the desk. You try as hard as possible to avoid looking at the open shirt and the wet hair sticking to his forehead.

“Yes Comandante.” You responded, looking behind him at the wall to avoid his gaze.

“Is there something fascinating about the wall Private?” He’s definitely in a mood and you swallow the lump in your throat before responding.

“No sir.”

“Then you need to learn how to respect your fucking superiors and look at them when they address you.” He threw the towel around his neck away before crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at you when you finally look at him.

“Yes sir.”

“Now, do you know why you’re here?” He leans over on his desk and removes the files in front of him before meeting your eyes again.

“No Comandante.”

“You’re here because a little bird told me that you were seen dealing with Americans and giving them info on...what’s happening on this base.” You almost laugh at him but when you don’t see any humor in his eyes, you feel your heart rate elevate.

“S-sir?” You ask, feeling your kneels buckle when he abruptly stands up and walks around the desk to stand next to you.

“What did you tell them?” His voice is low, a growl that sends heat down your spine.

“Nothing. Nothing I swear.” Your answer is shaky and you hate how his natural musk and cologne are making you even dizzier.

What he does next should scare you but it has the opposite effect on you. He smiles, the dimples appearing on his rugged, handsome features are far from welcoming.

“Hmm, I see we’ll have to do this the hard way then.” He pushes you down on the chair in front of his desk and moves around you, not giving you any time to react or say anything else as he unsheathes the knife from his holster and leans over the back of the chair.

You gasp when his hands sink in your hair and pull your head back far enough until he has perfect access to your throat.

“What a pretty little thing...it would be a shame if this knife...slips.” You’re looking into his eyes as you feel the sharp edge of the knife trail across your throat, tapping twice on the hollow dip just below your neck before you hear the soft sound of fabric ripping. You can’t look down but you can feel the air hit your heated skin where he ripped the button expertly without touching your skin.

“Tell me what you told the Americans.” He pulls on your hair again and you moan up at him before biting into your cheek.

“No-nothing...I- please Comandante I said nothing.” You’re not sure why you’re begging him or what you’re begging of him, but he seems to catch the unspoken request and rips down your shirt, taking three buttons along his path before he lets go of your hair and reaches for your breasts.

You’re a heaving mess, eyes shut tightly as he leans down and licks at your neck before slipping the knife beneath the center of your bra and ripping right through.

Your first instinct is to cover up but he anticipates your movement and keeps your hands on the handles of the chair.

“Don’t fucking move.” He warns in that hoarse voice of his before you feel his calloused fingers circles around your areolas before flicking at your hard nipples.

“You won’t like what I’ll do to you if you don’t tell me sweetheart.” Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the dangerous warning and you gulp when you feel his teeth close around your nipple and bite into the hardened skin as he taps your other with the smooth side of the knife.

“Pl-please...I-” You sob when his touches become meaner and more desperate.

“All you have to do is tell me baby and I’ll stop.” He whispers before he sucks more bruises into your skin and you’re shaking on the chair and holding on the wood when he unbuckles your belt and shoves his hand down your pants.

“So fucking wet for me...dirty little girl, getting turned on by your Comandante. Is this what you want hermosa? You want me to take what I want from you? Fucking answer me when I talk to you Private!” He growls as he shoves two fingers into your wet cunt, not bothering to take things slow or prepare you more for his digits. You’re crying, not sure out of pain or pleasure, and almost scream his name when he bites the top of your breast as he continues to assault your pussy.

“Fuck...fuck...you’re such a pretty girl. Sweet fucking girl, letting me touch you like this...in my fucking tent, where anyone can walk in.” You clench at his words and he swallows your moans with a bruising kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling down at you and throwing the knife to the floor before filling your mouth with his fingers so you wouldn’t make a sound.

“Oh you liked that didn’t you?” He asks and picks up the pace, eyeing the edge of your pants before returning his attention to your face. He looks down at you with lust-blown eyes and can’t hold back anymore, grabbing for his wrists and digging your nails into his damp skin as he finally hits that sweet spot inside you that makes you sigh in relief. You’re squeezing his fingers and trying your hardest to not make a sound as you cum on his thick hand.

“Pretty baby, coming on your Comandante’s fingers. Go on sweetheart, wet my fingers, open up for me and wet my fucking fingers.” He kisses you again, not caring for the mess he’s making of your face and your pants. When he sees your chest heaving violently, he slows down and takes his fingers out of your pants, maintaining eye contact as he sucks on his fingers and hums around them. You’re still shaking, barely acknowledging him as he walks to his tent and ties the bands.

You’re suddenly lifted off of the chair and you wrap your arms around his neck as you squeal, afraid he would drop you at any moment. You’re in a daze when he lays you down on his bed and begins to strip off his clothes.

“You want this querida?” He asks once, smiling proudly at you when your nod comes immediately and you begin to take your clothes off as well.

“Use your words Private.”

“Yes Comandante.”

#pedro pascal #comandante veracruz #drabble

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mccall-me-maurice · 3 years

Text

Goddamn another long ass post, don’t ask me why

So as I’ve noticed, a lot of people have come to see or have even started shipping Mauram. And whether this is linked to me oR NOT i want to explain why I ship it, because apparently I haven’t done that yet. [Under the Cut]

okay so mauram is a ship name for maurice and sam. so canonically maurice is more of a jokester. he kicks sand in peoples faces and then acts like a fool to make them happy again. because while maurice may be a hunter and by technicality, a “savage”, he still feels empathy. he definitely follows jack, but clearly isn’t the smartest (ie the squid conversation) and while he enjoys being a hunter, he seems to be in it for more of the fun side of things and being a child. Sam is also more childish because he was younger at the time and is easily scared by stuff like the beastie or the fucken. man with a parachute. however, he joined the hunters by force and was tortured, and yet he still helped ralph, so he is by default, a less “savage” person canonically. however, if you jump into general headcanons regarding the two, the twins AND maurice are both very mischievous and pull pranks on people. their personalities are oddly similar to most people when creating traits for them because a) they’re not really described in the book all that much and b) when they are, their actions end up leading to a similar personality. usually the twins are considered smarter than maurice, seeing as in a lot of text posts hes the one cracking jokes that are pretty dumb or having a lack of knowledge. their headcanoned personalities match together so well because of their similarities and their differences, what maurice lacks, sam makes up for. theoretically it’s like two pieces of a puzzle if you dive into how people headcanon them.

CANONICALLY however, they have very limited to no interactions that are written but that’s because the book is from ralphs perspective, making ralph be the protagonist so you never really get to see any of the hunters interactions with the twins while they’re being tortured. Or even if maurice is there. but they were still alive and the question is why. because jack would gladly have them dead, two other people have died. and roger really doesn’t give a shit, let’s be real. he would gladly kill the twins AND they have enough hunters. so that means that theoretically, someone that jack trusted or at least would listen to had to speak up against killing them either because the hunters aren’t as mad as jack and roger or because there was an established relationship with the twins that made them feel sympathetic. and the only person who has nearly as much power over jack as roger is maurice, seen earlier in the book during hunting. maurice had to be the one to speak up about the twins because he’s the only one with enough leverage over jack to get him to convince roger that killing the twins is unnecessary, and they should be kept alive because they could be “useful” when in fact, they were not useful to the tribe because they helped ralph.

and in modern aus, the twins are usually still ralphs friends and maurice is jacks because there’s typically the split between the two as there was on the island. but most of the time, maurice isn’t really involved because it’s a jalph fic or a rogermon one and maurice just isn’t there. furthermore, maurice tends to be a second option to his friends canonically, most of them bothered by him unless he does something funny or is needed for work. guess what? so are the twins. and the boys played around a lot on the beach, so maurice and the twins more than likely had interactions that just weren’t mentioned.

Fics/ Headcanons

so the choir usually exists in modern/no island aus because they need simon to know the boys so he can be a good boy like simon usually does. the twins usually have some of the biggest vendettas against the choir in the fics i’ve read because the choir gets oddly physical with them. however when fights occur, jack gets ralph, roger gets simon ((if hes even being responsive)) and maurice usually takes the twins. also the twins are usually straight in the fics which i think is just a way of having internalised homophobia because they are. way too straight. nobody is that straight, you bring men up and they’re like HAHA ANYWAYS, WOMEN. in a lot of fics, eric is the one who has the worse anger for the choir and is like. super pissy at all of them. and to me it’s because sam sees himself in maurice a little bit due to their usual similarities and hes just more soft spoken and doesn’t want to confront anyone about it. which leads to the perfect setup for a crush on maurice that he doesn’t even realise is there because he was so caught up realising how similar they are and how much more popular and, in theory, better maurice is that instead of doing what he sees people like piggy or eric doing, which is saying “i wish i could be like the hunters and walk around like i own the place”, he doesn’t want to be like maurice, he wants to be with maurice. however, because of his usual internalised homophobia, he convinces himself that he wants to be maurice and talk like his friends do, but he doesn’t really use the same bitter language, as he’s usually written nicer and even though he’s mischievous, he’s the kinder hearted twin most times. so he obviously isn’t fond of the choir members, but he still wishes he was like them to an extent and everything just kind of falls into place logistically that he, at some point, has a crush on one of the choir members

so why maurice? why not ralph or someone else?

well because all of his friends had never displayed the amount of similarities to him that maurice had. and none of them had displayed the empathy maurice undoubtedly did in the scenarios where things got physical. maurice himself was canonically never as physical as everyone else. he never really hurt anyone that was serious and not a joke. while ralph was kind to him, ralph was very disinterested in people, which i don’t even need to delve into canon for that, he was bored of people like every other line. simon is very introverted and spends most time with ralph and the choir typically, not seen with the twins as often. and piggy himself is just whiny in an endearing way but doesn’t reflect sams own personality. and while people think “opposites attract” (ie ralph and jack or roger and simon), that isn’t always the case. and with how sam behaved and spent time around those who he matched up with personality wise, he would, in theory, only like people who have fragments of his mind in theirs. back to the pieces of a puzzle thing. they have to be pieces of the *same* puzzle, not different ones.

so what about maurice?

maurice’s decisions are influenced by the choir, because he follows them around a lot when it comes to making big choices. he’s less violent by nature and more joking so when his friends bully ralph’s, he probably doesn’t take it as seriously as he should. but he doesn’t really like being angry and that’s on canon, when he kicked sand into percival’s eyes then joked around to cheer him up. maurice doesn’t like other people feeling bad because of his own actions. so he’s probably nicer to ralph’s friends than anyone else just because he has a tough time handling consequences. which leads to his nicer personality meeting sams less aggressive to the choir vibe and even though he is less observant, he still notices how similar they are. and unlike sam, he wants to be *like* sam because he is less vibrant and less out there and blends into a crowd better. and deep down, he doesn’t want to be a “bully” because he still has a heart and empathy. however, the feeling of “i want to be him” switches over to “i want to be with him” once he starts really looking at sam’s actions more than he did before because of how much they could, and would, click with each other. but of course if he were to ever talk to anyone in the choir about it, he would face horrible consequences so he, in turn, gets worse with the teasing and while he doesn’t get physical, he gets meaner as a defence mechanism so nobody else finds out which is what could’ve happened canonically, as of his descent into savagery.

#lotf #lord of the flies #lotf maurice #lotf sam #lotf samneric #lotf mauram #rambles #mauram #mack rambles #my headcanons #headcanons #this is way too long tbh #anyways #just wanted to explain!!!

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busylickingsatansballs · 3 years

Text

All I've ever done is hide

Y/N Swan x Leah Clear water (platonic) x slight Seth maybe

Plot: Reader was turned into a 'child of the moon' and shows Leah that they may have more in common than she thinks. (This is dumb I'm sorry)

A/N: Warning!! there might be swearwords.

You'd been looking for Leah all night, you weren't exactly friends but close enough. You both seemed to bond through the pain of having no say in a world set out to hurt you. Life was a real bitch sometimes.

You knew you didn't want to go to this party the second Charlie told you he had an invite, but he insisted claiming he was giving you the chance to “make some more friends, get out of the damn house”. It was a bonfire on the reservation how were you supposed to make friends here? you were far from ignorant knowing and being part of the supernatural had that effect, sometimes you envied who you used to be. The bold risk taker who camped in the woods ignoring her father warnings of 'bears' and although he was wrong about what, something had managed to sink it's teeth into you. White hot pain is all you remember after that. The burning, aching and itching under your skin that drove you mad almost sending you feral. Snapping back you shake your head as if that could make the bad thoughts literally fall out of your head. You were close with the Clearwater's growing up but life got in the way sometimes, you'd reconnected with them not long back, Seth & Sue welcomed you in with open arms, which was great although you suspect Seth had a slight crush. Which was sweet, he was harmless so you didn't mind his eagerness to be near you or his slight overprotective nature at times. It was adorable no he was adorable. Leah was proving to be a challenge though. She wasn't exactly rude just cold and abrasive, whenever you tried to get close she closed up or offered a snarky comment about 'minding your own business.' You sulked quietly by the fire as your dad flirted not so smoothly with Sue Clearwater, not that Sue seemed to mind. Your eyes briefly catch the form of a brooding Leah seemed to be having a whisper argument with one of the pack members imprints, you forget which. You can't hep but think she looks angrier than usual which can't be good. Tilting your head slightly, you brush your hair behind your ear and focus your hearing. “you know damn well why I don't want to be here.” “Please Leah you promised you'd try.” “try!? all I ever do is try Emily maybe if you hadn't-” Oh that must be the cousin Sam had left her for. Man that's rough.

The loud cheers as someone brings out food cut off your focus sending your senses into overdrive as the conversation is lost somewhere in the commotion. When you look back Leah is walking off towards a more secluded part of the beach. You weren't completely in the dark. You knew the stories of what had happened between Sam, Leah and Emily. He may have imprinted but there were other ways to go about it, sometimes you catch yourself thinking what happened to Emily's face was part of his punishment. You decide to follow Leah down to the secluded part of the beach hoping to catch up with her, you avoid eye contact with various pack members and imprints keeping your gaze solely on Leah. Your gaze catches Seth's and you give him your warmest smile before looking away missing the way the tips of his ears turned pink. You're finally far away enough from the fire that you notice the immediate change in warmth and atmosphere, it was dark and if you were human you'd have definitely tripped. You come short about 30 steps away and you suddenly become aware that you had no idea what you were even going to say to the girl. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as your eyes focus on Leah, she's sitting in the sand facing away as she stares at the ocean. Well you think she has her eyes open but you can't be sure. “You followed me.” she starts, you let out a shaky breath, up until now you weren't even sure she knew you were there.Of course she did shes a shape shifter The wind makes the waves sound meaner, harsher as the crash against the rocks in the distance, she doesn't turn to look at you. “I'm sorry.” you offer, for what you aren't sure. Leah rarely talked about her feelings but something felt different now maybe this was your only chance to catch her with her guard lower than usual “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you grimace at how cliche you sound. “Why?” she asks. “because I care.” you offer which only causes her to scoff in reply, it stings a bit you're not gonna tell her that though. ”I know what it's like Leah how much it hurts.” Leah whips round so harshly you're surprised she hasn't broken anything, her eyes narrow as she fixes you with a glare worthy of the gods. ”You, understand what it's like to have your fiance dump you for your cousin and have them parade their relationship right in front of you and everyone just expects you to move on and be happy for them! Whist you stay the sad pathetic ex girlfriend he can't get away from? Y/N how could you possibly understand what this feels like?”

You step back in shock as Leah stands to full height close enough that you think you see her trembling slightly, from anger of pain you're not sure, you mull over her words dissecting and choosing your next few words carefully, even though she was shouting she was still opening up and even though you'd have preferred less hostility, with Leah you would take what you could get. “I understand what he did to you, how much he hurt you.” Leah seemed to stop breathing and if you wasn't so intent on getting her to open up you might have chickened out. “because I know that you know how it feels when someone hurts you so bad that you can never...” You wipe your face wind making the tears on your face sting. “You can never be the same and it's worse because you can't do anything and because you can't change it people just expect you to be over it.”

Leah's face softens as she looks at you with something like affection on her perfect features “Look I can't even imagine how painful this is for you I'm not here to make it worse for you.” you take a few steps closer noticing that she's stopped shaking. “I just want you to let me in, I get that things are different now but I still really care about you and I know it won't happen over night but I'd really like us to be friends again.”

“I will never be over it. I am angry, bitter and exhausted, I am so full of resentment towards them sometimes I can't breathe Y/N.” a single tear drops down her cheek “I don't want to be those things anymore, I don't want to be alone” she whispers

You walk towards her “You're not alone, not if you don't want to be.” to your surprise she hugs you, skin burning hot against yours as you press yourself closer finally enjoying each others presence. Maybe you still had a long way to go but this was a start and for now you were happy with that.

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carmenlire · 3 years

Text

Plum

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He thinks he scared himself. Just a little. Just enough for it to have an impact.

Maybe. The jury’s still out on that, he supposes.

Falling asleep last night had taken longer than he’d thought. He thinks they’d been hunger pains and he knows it’s ridiculous but a part of him still hadn’t understood.

At that point, he hadn’t eaten in forty eight hours, give or take a few minutes. He’d gotten home from work and he’d been exhausted. He’s always tired these days and even if it had been a couple of days since his last meal, the last time he’d chewed and swallowed, he’d been fine.

Until he’d gone to bed at least. It wasn’t even a struggle to collapse in bed after work. He’s a little tired of his job, of the way he feels like his superiors are always breathing down his neck, at the way the people he’s trying to help just seem to get a little meaner and a little ruder with every passing day.

He’s a little tired in general but that can’t really be helped, either. He’s usually tired. He hasn’t worked out in longer than he cares to admit-- he’s been brushing Jace off every time his brother tries to get him to go on an early morning run or join a boxing class at their gym. There are some absolutes that Alec follows and one of them is that to work out in the morning, he needs to have eaten the day before.

Perhaps it should be a warning that he hasn’t been working out lately-- the past few weeks, really the past several months-- because he just can’t make himself eat with any consistency. He usually eats once a day but it never feels quite right. So he wakes up the next morning and tells himself tomorrow as he hits snooze on his alarm for another hour of sleep that doesn’t leave him any more well rested than before.

Yesterday, all he’d been able to think about during his shift was coming home and taking off his damn tie. Dinner was a far off thing, easily avoided. He’d just wanted to slide between his sheets where nothing matters and where he doesn’t have to be a person.

Where he’s not Alec Lightwood, aiming to make senior associate within the year. He’s just a guy who’s a little sad and maybe a little hungry and so, so empty that he feels like his insides are cracking most minutes of most days.

Well, that’s not entirely true, Alec thinks and it’s not even with a wry little smile because even so small an action feels beyond him right now. He hadn’t just felt exhausted during his late evening shift-- there was a noticeable part of him that had been a little smug, a lot relieved, not inconsiderably proud. Because at that point, it’d been almost two entire days since he’d last eaten and he was happy about that-- felt the stirring of pride at his wherewithal to not give in to what his body demanded, felt good because he felt light.

Usually he feels like he carries the weight of an army behind him and so that feeling-- of being a little smaller, a little less in the way that matters, in the way he wishes for-- it’s.

Well, it’s intoxicating. A little addicting, if he’s being honest.

It’s been a rough year, Alec thinks now. So much is going on and he hasn’t felt this way in years, the way the fog rolls in, the way he sometimes thinks he doesn’t have a body. Still, some of it’s been good. There’s that weekend last month that he spent with Izzy and Jace, the three of them on the camping trip from hell. He hadn’t laughed so hard in ages as he had watching Jace try to put together a tent, as he did watching Iz take her turn during a particularly drunken round of charades.

Then there’s Magnus. Things are so good with him. Too good, a voice whispers in the back of his mind but he tries so hard to knock it back to where it came from, to make it disappear. He has a boyfriend now and just seeing Magnus makes him happy. Or if not happy, then content. Alec can be himself with Magnus and it means more than he can say to have a boyfriend and find such easy comfort within him. He takes great pride in being that person for Magnus, as well.

There’s guilt too, though. Because the longer Alec’s like this, the more he thinks that he might have an actual problem. And it terrifies him because he doesn’t see a way out. He doesn’t think there is one.

Because here Alec sits and he’s staring at nothing in a bookstore a few blocks from his apartment and he wants to die, just a little bit. Because that would be easier for anyone involved in his shit take at taking care of himself.

He feels Magnus staring at him from where he sits within arms reach in his own chair. He feels his boyfriend rubbing a hand over his back in soothing circles but it does nothing to stop Alec from feeling like he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be anywhere.

This morning, Alec ate a plum.

This morning was day three of Alec’s little challenge to himself. He had idle plans to make it a full seventy two hours without eating. Don’t get him wrong, he’s had a few iced coffees every day and it worries him, a little maybe, because he was starting to fixate on how the coffees felt like cheating, too.

There’s oat milk in the lattes, you know.

But he’d had this date day planned with Magnus for days now. His boyfriend, his wonderful boyfriend, has planned a whole day of things for Alec, for them to enjoy together. Alec was excited for today and he’d been feeling good when he woke up.

A day off from work, a day spent with a man who he’s increasingly sure that he loves. It sounded like a recipe for a lovely day.

Plus, he’d woken feeling lighter. In the past two days, he’d lost seven pounds. He knows most, if not all of it, is water weight. But seeing the number drop so severely on the scale felt so good. It gave him confidence. It made him happy.

It filled him in a way that a meal hasn’t been able to in months.

It sounds so dire now but Alec’s never been underweight. From the outside, he looks exceedingly healthy. It does nothing but make him feel worse a lot of the time.

So, Alec knew that the plan for the day was a bookstore in the morning, followed by lunch at this place Magnus had been dying to try for weeks now, with the afternoon spent wandering the halls of an art museum further uptown.

Alec’s not stupid and he never wants Magnus to worry. So, he’d decided to break his fast and eat some fruit. That way he’d have energy for the day and when Magnus asked him what he’d had for breakfast-- his boyfriend is definitely in the camp that believes it’s the most important meal of the day-- Alec wouldn’t have to lie. It's a bonus that fruit falls squarely into a safe category of food in his brain.

Alone in his kitchen, it’d been equal parts shameful and irritating that taking that first bite of stone fruit had taken several attempts. He washed the fruit and patted it dry with a paper towel and stared at it for a long minute, most of him loathing the thought of biting into it. He felt like a failure not being able to last another minute, another hour.

But Magnus would be here within the hour and he needed to get ready.

Four tries later, and his teeth pierced the plum. Immediately, he’d thought that this had to be the best plum that he’d ever eaten. Perfectly ripe, juicy, the flavor positively bursting from the flesh.

Idly, he’d thought that maybe he’d make these lengthy fasts a more regular thing, if he could truly appreciate food like this at the end.

The plum was small and he’d finished it in a handful of bites. Almost immediately after throwing away the seed, he’d started to feel a tiny bit of shame and a whole lot of regret for eating.

He was so weak that he couldn’t wait until he had a true reason to eat-- lunch at the Korean restaurant Magnus had been raving about. If he’d waited until then, then maybe he wouldn’t have made the full three days but Magnus is worth eating for. It would have been okay, then.

Nothing for it now, he’d finally decided and had been ready when his boyfriend picked him up.

The bookstore was a little busy. Not crowded, but a fair few more people than he’d anticipated. Truthfully, though, Alec hadn’t really noticed because he’d been enjoying his time with Magnus so much.

Magnus, who has such an array of knowledge. He’s interested in so many subjects and strolling through the shelves of books and floating between genres, idly picking up paperbacks with interesting covers and hardbacks by beloved authors he wants to share with Magnus had been fun. He hadn’t noticed the time that slipped by.

They’re climbing the stairs to the second floor of the store and Alec feels a little winded. More than he’d usually ever feel walking up a single flight. His head feels a little weird, too. Light but not in a good way.

It doesn’t make sense. He ate a plum this morning.

Magnus looks over with a smile. “What do you say to a coffee while we look up here? My treat,” he adds with a wink that has Alec laughing.

Alec easily accepts and they get in the short line.

“What’d you have for breakfast, darling?”

It’s an idle question as Magnus looks over the selection of bakery treats on display. Alec looks, too, and thinks that if it was another time, if he was a different person, he might like to try a piece of the oreo cheesecake.

“A plum,” he answers simply as he turns his head to people watch the few occupied tables.

“And?”

Alec shakes his head, bemused. “And that’s it,” he replies. “I ate a plum for breakfast.”

It’s now that Magnus looks over, askance. "I told you to eat something that would give you energy until lunch, darling. A plum is nothing,” he chastises and the tone is light and teasing. “You should eat more.”

Alec keeps the easy smile on his face, though he can’t help a small part of himself from growing a little worried, a little guilty-- but there’s a kernel of anger there too that he can’t really define.

He shouldn’t be upset over his boyfriend’s light teasing. It’s not that deep. Magnus doesn’t know the sharks circling just under the edge of this conversation and Alec’s grateful for that, even more now.

“I guess you’re just the breakfast person, babe. You know I don’t really like to eat before noon.”

Magnus just harrumphs and turns toward the cashier. They’re next in line.

But Alec doesn’t feel so well. His head feels even lighter. He thinks his vision starts to waver but he thinks he’s also being dramatic. He has a tendency to do that, he knows. Sometimes he even thinks he might have some type of-- some type of disorder but he’s usually quick to tell himself that everyone feels this way about food and eating and weight and calories and he shouldn’t add more to his plate of stress.

Magnus takes the final step up to the barista but Alec stands stock still. The edges of his vision are gray and that’s weird because he thought that only happened in books. He thought it was just a clever description but oh God the tables by the window are in grayscale and now he can’t really see them at all and the volume of the bustling cafe area is muted, did everyone stop talking and--

He doesn’t think he’s breathing. He can’t feel his chest. He can’t feel his legs. He needs to sit down.

He thinks Magnus is turning back to ask him what he wants to drink but he can’t answer. His sight is set on an unoccupied table a few meters away and it’s with single minded focus that he puts one foot in front of the other and very roughly sits down as soon as he’s within reach.

More like collapses, Magnus would say.

He stares down at the ground. He counts his breaths. Everything is still quiet and Alec’s still preoccupied enough making sure that he stays conscious that he can’t immediately rationalize everything away to himself. Magnus comes over and brings the other chair around the table until they’re side by side.

“Alexander? You okay?”

Alec can’t answer. He just needs a moment. He hopes Magnus doesn’t get mad that he can’t bring his head up, that he just can’t quite manage to string together a response right now.

Magnus doesn’t seem mad, at least. He isn’t irritated. He also isn’t hovering, thank God, because Alec doesn’t think he could take that right now. His presence is quiet and calms Alec down a little and maybe it’s mixed with relief, too, that there’s someone with him right now-- that it’s Magnus who he knows he can trust.

It’s quiet for a few moments before Alec looks up and makes eye contact with Magnus. His boyfriend smiles a little but his eyes are deadly serious. “What can I do?”

Alec takes a deep breath in and slowly lets it out. He looks down and watches his hands flex, feels his fingers curl. “Can I have a lemonade?”

Normally, Alec doesn’t drink anything with sugar in it. He has a sweet tooth but prefers to stick strictly to water and his iced lattes. He knows he needs something more now.

Magnus merely nods and stands without another word. He’s back a moment later and hands over a bottle of lemonade he’d bought from the cooler. “Here you go, darling,” he says softly.

Alec drinks and Magnus goes back to sweeping a hand over his back in an aimless pattern. “It was rather warm in here, wasn’t it?”

Alec makes some noise of agreement and Magnus adds on quietly, much more subdued, “Maybe you should’ve eaten something more for breakfast.”

There’s that little flick of annoyance that Alec can’t quite squash down but he’s not stupid. And Magnus doesn’t even know the half of it. And so Alec nods a little more weakly than he’d like and says, “Yeah, maybe, babe,” unable to control the tendril of indifference in the words.

Magnus is quiet for a minute and Alec works on the lemonade and thinks through what just happened.

He’s never fainted before. He’s never come so close to blacking out. He thought he was stronger than that and he’s a little mad at his body for showing that it can have a mind of its own, too. It happened so fast that it leaves him with whiplash.

Over it all, though, is confusion because he did eat. He thought the fruit would be enough to last until lunch and it doesn’t make sense to him that he ate an hour ago and almost passed out just now.

Magnus’s voice breaks through the self recrimination. “Why don’t we take a little break, get a treat, and find a table by the windows,” he suggests. Alec knows him well enough by now to know that while it was phrased as a question, it’s anything but.

Seeing as he doesn’t really have a choice, Alec nods and they stand and make their way back over to the counter. Alec takes a look around but no one's staring at them. Everyone’s focused on their own computers and books and Alec doesn’t feel like a bug under a microscope in the way that he thought he might. He doesn’t really want any more witnesses to this.

Magnus orders a cranberry almond croissant and turns to him. Alec decides on a slice of that cheesecake, after all.

They sit down and Alec stares at the dessert. The truth is, he enjoys food. More than he should, he thinks. He likes trying new things and he has a sweet tooth and he enjoys a truly good, filling meal. The problem is that it’s been so long since it’s been worth it. He has a lot of food rules and this cheesecake breaks at least three that he can think of off the bat. It’s a little terrifying actually and he’s mad at himself that a piece of cake can make him feel genuine fear.

When did it get to this point, is all he can wonder. How do I go back.

Magnus doesn’t make him feel like a child. He doesn’t make a scene of things, doesn’t make Alec feel like he embarrassed him. In his quiet, competent way, Magnus simply takes care of him.

The day isn’t ruined, which Alec feared as he took the first bite of food. They spend awhile at that table and they both eat their treats and enjoy their coffee and talk about anything and everything that pops into their minds. Magnus doesn’t rush them from the table, seems content enough to enjoy Alec’s company at a table in the bookstore cafe rather than walking around the store like originally planned.

Eventually, they do throw their trash away and Magnus takes Alec’s hand as they start wandering the second floor. Magnus doesn’t mention what happened for the rest of the day but it lingers in the back of Alec’s mind.

The day ends up being a smash success of a date. Alec buys a few books for Magnus. They enjoy the Korean restaurant-- Magnus was right, it’s phenomenal-- and the art museum is eye catching.

It’s later that night and Magnus is spending the night at Alec’s. They’re in bed and Magnus is fast asleep.

Sleep eludes Alec for awhile, though. He can’t stop thinking about this morning at the bookstore cafe. He thinks that things might be escalating. He thinks that he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened.

He can’t help but think that maybe that episode was a sign that he was doing things right, after all.

He’s so tired and he doesn’t have any answers. He feels rather helpless, really. Maybe he knows that this isn’t normal but he can’t help the way he feels. He doesn’t know who he can tell these things to-- things like how he feels an almost compulsion to weigh himself every day even if he knows the results will devastate him, the way he has a very narrow list of safe foods and feels totally removed from what normal people eat, the way he sometimes asks himself what he’d like for his next meal but the voice in his head immediately retorts but you don’t deserve to eat.

Alec’s an adult. He knows what the signs point to. But he can’t quite make himself believe that he has a problem because it seems only logical that he hold these misgivings, given his body. It’s just the way things are for him. It feels increasingly like it's always been this way.

But maybe today scared him a little. Maybe, Alec thinks as he looks down at his boyfriend sleeping peacefully on his chest, maybe he does have someone he can talk to.

And maybe Magnus will tell him he has nothing to worry about, that these overwhelming thoughts and feelings are normal. Or, Alec thinks with a sliver of dread but an even greater sense of hope, Magnus will look him in the eye and take his hand and say that it’s okay to have a problem and that they can find a solution.

Together.

#plum #my writing #malec fic #tw: eating problems

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