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#i dont even know how. sheer force of will

balteus · 5 months

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actually re: fromsoftware politics. i do think it's very interesting that the anti-colonialist RLF, ostensibly considered the 'good guys' of the game, were initially explicitly called the communist faction. armored core always has been a series critical of oligarchies and hyper-capitalism, but it's... very interesting to see just how blatant that is in ac6 specifically

you'd think that fromsoftware would eventually drop the ball on the "the ruling class will kill you and cannibalise itself in order to stay alive" considering that they're considered elite AAA devs rn, but thinking about elden ring and ac6's narratives, they've really only gotten more obvious about it - the horrors of colonialism and genocide and the sympathy given to the rage of its victims is something that's actually insane to see, to me, from such a big studio - fromsoft doesn't even attempt to be centrist about it.

for example, the frenzy flame ending. the only thing melina can tell you to dissuade you from pursuing it, ie literally destroying the world forever, is that there's still beauty in the world, apart from the suffering the golden order had caused. at no point however is the sheer despair of the people that the flame represents villanized. if anything, it's portrayed as a self-fulfilling prophecy, it is a tragedy. the only villain is the order who slaughtered all of these people, the flame of despair is something that emerged in them as they were buried alive. and the flame isn't even intended as a revenge upon the world, it's simply a means to end the pain they feel for being subjected to this.

their grief isn't something for the player to judge, it isn't something they're forced to overcome, it's simply a physical manifestation of the reality that was forced upon them. and these people, the merchants, are still kind to us, even knowing the order that we pursue. (in fact, the true, considered best ending of elden ring, is literally just sacrificing yourself in order to achieve complete anarchism. and getting a cool wife to endure the loneliness of space along the way)

in ac6 then, ayre is so terribly forgiving towards us, knowing what we are, knowing what made us, knowing what we participate in. some of this undoubtedly is because of her narrative role, she has to be a sympathetic character. but we do get to see her rage at the end, her grief for her species being seen as nothing more than a resource to be exploited or burned fully vocalized. but the RLF is sympathetic too as resistance fighters who want their home back. the only criticism the game ever leverages towards the RLF is that they're actually not radical enough in their pursuit of freedom, and that criticism is made by a villain.

it's so... i almost want to say optimistic? other games would have tried to pull a "ooh but what if the good guys did bad things (poor attempt at moral grayness)" but no, the RLF is justified at every step of the way. idk it makes me feel things. i dont particularly want to portray fromsoftware as these bastions of political correctness or sth - they're not perfect and i don't expect that ever lmao, but it's so fucking weird that their games are this progressive and have been for a long ass time.

#armored core #armored core 6 #elden ring #fromsoftware #idk i got a little carried away

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dottores · 8 months

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HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, reader not in the best mental state (esp in first scene).

notes: FINALLY!!! its unedited so bear with me, i dont rlly have time to go through and edit + i've been sick as hell for two weeks straight now. but i hope u guys enjoy!!!

ALEA IACTA EST

You were trapped.

You didn’t know what sort of witchcraft Pantalone used but you couldn’t leave his wing. You thought you might be going crazy, it took two days of making excuses for you to realize that something was severely wrong, and another three for the anxieties to start embedding in your head. You had your first panic attack in years on the sixth day, and now on the seventh, you were sitting in the small library alone—there was a book in your lap, but the words were swimming off the pages and your head was spinning.

How was this what he wanted?

You couldn’t understand how either of you were benefiting from this. He wasn’t getting whatever knowledge he wanted from you and you weren’t getting what you needed to know. You were just stuck here, alone and lost. Not even Pantalone was around for the past few days because he went to finalize a business deal in a Mondstadt port town, he should be coming back soon but even when he did, you knew he wouldn’t spare you much attention.

How was this what he wanted? You wondered if it was supposed to be some sick sort of torture, wear down your mental fortitude so you’d be more apt to answer the questions he wanted. If that was the case, he would be severely disappointed when you spat in his face the next time he dared to make an appearance. Another part of you wondered if this was just how it would be—he would keep you locked up and alone so he didn’t have to deal with you but he also didn’t have to fear you running off and putting yourself in danger.

The more you thought about it, the more you convinced yourself of both options, and the more you hated your own soulmate.

Seven days. It had been seven days of being trapped in this place with only Pantalone to occasionally talk to and of the few times he spoke to you, the majority were just of him going on a vicious rant about how the Tianquan of Liyue kept sidelining his proposals and how the wineries of Mondstadt were icing him out of the wine market with Liyue’s merchants. He claimed it was all some big conspiracy against him because there was no reason they should be blatantly disregarding his letters, all of his proposals were mostly targeted for their profit, which the Regrator thought was blasphemous in itself—the Jester apparently cared more for building relationships with the administrative and economic sectors of each of the nations than Pantalone’s dignity as a businessman. You, evidently, did not give him the outraged reaction he wanted and he hadn’t come back to speak with you since, leaving for his meeting across the nation without a word.

Now you were alone, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you—and you knew it was not Dottore.

You exhaled as you tried to focus again on the book laying on your lap but your head throbbed and you were forced to avert your gaze back to the ceiling, trying to quell the pain through sheer willpower alone. The Regrator’s library was filled to the brim, but with nothing that would be of use to you trying to figure out how they had trapped you in this sector. Books on economics, the aristocratic families of Snezhnaya, the history of the northern lands and all of the old traditions and folklore that noble children were brought up learning, undoubtedly so he could fine tune that mask of his, pretending that he had always been one of them in order to shear more money from them.

A part of you wanted to warn him that the more he tried to fake it, the more they would ridicule him, but you didn’t want to be totally isolated again as soon as he came back so you figured you’d just let him figure it out himself.

Regardless, even with the massive amount of books that stacked his library’s walls, not a single one could help you in figuring out this spell. You’d never seen magics like this before—it was not elemental based, it was psyche-based. Every time you got down the hall, to the eighth window from your room to the right, your head started feeling light and dizzy, you felt sick and nauseous and were forced to turn back lest you put yourself in a very, very vulnerable position in a place where you could not afford any vulnerability.

As nervous as it made you, at first, you found amusement in it. You were irritated and scared, yes, but more than that, you knew that Dottore could feel everything you did. So, you made it your mission to stay right at that eighth window for as long as you possibly could, just because you knew that you were racking your soulmate with that same nausea and dizziness and light-headedness that you were experiencing.

Now, the amusement was gone and you were just scared. You were scared that you would be trapped here forever, never again to see your mother and your half-siblings and your grandfather. You were scared that you’d disappoint your father, that you wouldn’t be able to succeed in your mission and he would never be able to rest peacefully without justice having been exacted. And as much as you hated him, you were scared that you would never see him again either, that he would just leave you here to rot, live out the rest of your miserable existence confined to a single hall with books that you would rather burn than read.

You hated that you felt so attached to him already—that even though the thought of him filled you with vile rage and agony, your body still ached for his touch, your eyes still longed for the sight of him walking through the dark doors of the library, and your bond still screamed for you to somehow end this war between the two of you so it could find peace.

Even if peace negotiations were in your hands, you would still stubbornly throw them out the window, but they weren’t because he continued to completely deny you his presence. You were at his mercy, only when he decided, would a white flag be lifted.

“Excuse me.”

You stiffened, an unwelcome chill ran down your spine as you looked over your shoulder to where an unfamiliar figure was standing in the doorframe of the library. With golden blonde curls and green eyes, no more than a decade older than you, you thought that the man might’ve been handsome were it not for that there was a dark gleam behind his eyes that reminded you a lot of your step-father, one that promised danger and deceit.

He smiled and even though his teeth were not sharpened, somehow they looked more like knives than Theta’s did. “You’re the aristocrat from Fontaine that the Regrator took in, no?”

“I am,” you said. Your voice was hoarse from days without speaking, you cleared your throat, closing the book and placing it down on the couch next to you just in case the man tried to take a seat there with you. “And you are?”

He wasn’t as unfamiliar as you originally believed. You recognized him from the event, standing with the rest of the Harbingers—immediately, you were on edge, trying to figure out what he wanted from you. He came closer to you and you bit the words that tempted to fly from your mouth as he picked up the book you had placed as a deterrent to take a seat on the couch right next to you, too close for comfort. You could feel his thigh brushing yours as he looked to the side to watch you, eyes tracing over your body once before settling on your face.

“Brighella,” he greeted, holding a hand out to you. “Tenth of the Fatui Harbingers, delighted to make your acquaintance.”

You placed your hand in his, albeit reluctantly, watching raptly as he lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently before letting go. His lips were soft and pleasant against your fingers yet it still made your skin crawl. You drew your hand back into your lap immediately, waiting for him to explain what he wanted.

“I was just curious,” he said, answering the unspoken question. “The Regrator is a very proud man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he never responds well to help. It came as a shock to hear that he was taking in an aristocrat from Fontaine as an advisor.”

He was lying—about what, you weren’t sure, but you knew somewhere in that statement of his that there was a lie, and though you had no way of confirming it, you suspected that it had to do with his initial claim: that he was simply curious.

“He intends to expand the Northland Bank into Fontaine City,” was all you replied with, a thin smile painting your lips. “Even someone as proud and intelligent as him is not capable of such a feat alone, the Court of Fontaine is notoriously anti-Snezhnaya.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Brighella waved off your words and relaxed into the chair next to you, eyes disarmingly beseeching as he watched your reactions. “But we have our own operatives in Fontaine City, I was surprised that he didn’t just come to me for information, rather insulting, actually.”

He laid the information in front of you like meat to seduce a starving beast, all the while he lurked behind the bushes and waited for you to lunge at it so he could drive his blade across your neck as an execution. You didn’t respond, maybe for a second longer than you should have, but the sudden information had thrown you off guard.

It was him.

The words rang resounding through your head, Brighella was the one running the Fatui’s operations in Fontaine. Why had he told you? What did he expect to gain from this? There was something you were missing still, but after a week of forced isolation and no progress in your mission, this was like a feast handed to you on a silver platter.

“Perhaps your operatives are just not capable enough for such a scheme,” you said dryly, but your voice sounded vacant even to your own ears, it was clear that you were focused on something else.

Brighella raised a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded by your words. “Oh, but the Knave and I had trained so many of them personally,” he sighed. “What use am I to this organization if my colleagues won’t even rely on me or my agents to deliver when necessary?”

It was a rhetorical question but you didn’t know what to make of it, or of him. Faux-mourning tainted his tone as he spoke, a regretful expression on his face as he turned his eyes up to the ceiling above.

What was he trying to gain from this? You asked yourself again, more desperately this time. His lips, still tilted up as they’d been this whole conversation, had a bit more of triumph in them than they’d had before and you knew that somewhere you had slipped up, revealing something you shouldn’t have. But you rewound the conversation in your head over and over and over again and you couldn’t quite place where you had. You’d been careful with your words, nothing to set off alarm bells—your cover with the Regrator’s expansion in Fontaine was true, but you were just not being quite as helpful as he would like you to be, and Pantalone was very clear in his opinions on their Fontaine plants and their inadequacy.

It had to have been your tone, the emptiness in your response to his reveal about his subordinates in Fontaine. It gave away your interest, and you could play it off as if it was just a general interest in how they’d infiltrated Fontaine, but if your stepfather truly was his agent, then he would know very well who you were and your ulterior reasons for being here—or he would at least now have confirmation.

Pantalone had told you that Pulcinella, Brighella and Tartaglia would be the three Harbingers who would be the least of your worries, but you thought that the Friar was much more dangerous than he made himself out to be.

How were you supposed to proceed? You tested words on the tip of your tongue but you could not figure out what to say—if you were suddenly interested in him, he would know it was only because of the information he revealed, but if you were cold and distant, you risked him not returning and you needed more information one way or another, even if it meant consorting with a man that made your hair stand on end.

You didn’t get the chance to speak up again though, as your lips parted to speak, Brighella rose to his feet.

“I should get going. I’d prefer not to draw the ire of my fellow Harbingers, but it was a pleasure talking to you,” he murmured, a small smile and eyes turned upward as he nodded his head down in acknowledgement. “I’ll stop by again soon, it’s cruel of the Regrator and the Doctor to leave you alone the way they have.”

Two days later, the Friar returned.

You’d spent the two days alone reeling and trying to understand where you had gone wrong and how you could compensate for it. You needed a plan of action, and a fast and efficient one at that. Freezing him out would be stupid, as much as it might be the most comforting course of action, but you also couldn’t just suddenly be trying to get closer to him because he would realize something was up.

You weren’t stupid. If he had truly just been curious about you, he would have come much sooner than he did. He waited because he wanted you to be worn down and utterly alone, so you would latch onto him like he was a buoy in the raging sea. Unfortunately for him, you were far too used to being alone. As agonizing as a week of isolation was, it was not near enough to make you that desperate.

But he had information you wanted desperately, so you wanted to let him think whatever plan he was concocting was working in hopes that he might reveal more to gain your trust and dependency. You thought it would be a slow and arduous process, not to mention agonizing, but considering neither Pantalone nor Dottore have come to see you in over a week now, you figured you had nothing better to do anyway and this was your best shot at getting what you wanted… and maybe, if you ended up being successful with this, you could free yourself too but you thought that was far less likely.

At the very least, it might force Dottore into action if he thought you were starting to get close with Brighella.

But that was a long shot anyway. Brighella was a type of beast that you were unfamiliar with. He kind of reminded you of some of the crueler members of Fontaine’s aristocracy, the ones who found entertainment in setting up trials that they knew would lead to one terrible sentencing, all the while smiling to the defendants face, but even then they were nothing like this. He was a wolf that portrayed himself as a sheep in the truest sense of the proverb and you just didn’t know what he was capable of, or what he wanted, and that was what scared you most—you didn’t like it when you didn’t know what someone’s intentions were with you.

Your stepfather was easy, all he wanted was more power in Fontaine, evidently to report back to the Fatui for a promotion—you and your father were obstacles in obtaining said power, so he removed your father from being able to influence your mother and you were certain that if you had stayed in Fontaine City, he would have gone after you too.

Dottore was somewhat frank in his intentions with you: he wanted you out of his life so that you couldn’t affect his research but he was keeping you here because he wanted information from you… and a part of you was certain that he was keeping you here also because it prevented you from going out and getting yourself hurt or killed, and that scared you because you didn’t know just how long he planned to keep you isolated here. Or if he ever even planned to release you.

Pantalone had been upfront with you: he wanted a way to get the Northland Bank into Fontaine, you had offered your help in exchange for assistance with removing your stepfather from the courts but you had no intention of giving him any help until he had pulled through on his end. And even then, you had never specified how much help you would give him—you were not going to give the Fatui more of a foothold than they already had.

Not after what they did to your father.

Brighella was an unknown. He had come to you with a goal two days ago, and whatever that goal had been, he had achieved it. You still couldn’t figure what it was, even after days of recounting your conversation to figure it out, and that unnerved you more than anything.

“You actually came back,” you said quietly, eyes flickering up to where Brighella had entered the library. He brought something with him, you couldn’t quite tell what it was but it smelled good, and familiar.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Brighella replied, amused. He came around the couch to sit next to you. He sat closer this time.

“It’s been two days, I was beginning to doubt.”

“Yes, well, the Regrator grew a bit suspicious when he saw me coming from the direction of his wing, the last thing I needed was to draw his ire. The Doctor already has it out for me even when I do no wrong.” Brighella sounded aggrieved as he spoke but your ears rang loudly at his words.

“The Regrator already returned from his meeting in Mondstadt?” you asked, keeping your voice free of all tightness but when Brighella only shot you a confused look, one that did not appear to be feigned in the slightest. “Ah, I see.”

There was no meeting in Mondstadt.

You wondered if it was by Dottore’s will or his own that he had lied and left you here in isolation. You thought it would be easier to believe it was Dottore’s, you had already made him out to be your villain, but you knew better than to assume that. Dottore was obstinate and prideful, yes, but Pantalone was the one who had clawed his way from the bottom tiers of society to the very top, his manipulation would know no bounds—he knew that you were already struggling with Dottore’s refusal to acknowledge you, and he probably thought that his disappearance, after entertaining you for a few days, would put you over the edge.

Jaw tight and trying your best to keep your emotions off of your face lest Brighella take advantage of your distressed realization, you forced yourself to turn your attention back to the Harbinger.

“Here,” Brighella said, passing the covered dish over to you. “Tartiflette, I figure you must be missing home. I hear tartiflette has been rather popular amongst the aristocrats lately.”

I hear.

Bitterly, you wanted to ask just how he managed to hear that but you refrained. Instead, you glanced down at the dish—it was covered with foil but it smelled good, just like the one you and Sylvie used to get from Cafe Lucerne before your father passed away.

You wondered if it was poisoned, or laced with something, you didn’t exactly put it past Brighella. Even if there were ulterior motives behind him bringing you the dish, it was thoughtful nonetheless. So instead of voicing your suspicions or refusing the dish, you took into your lap, letting the warmth of the bottom of the plate and the familiar scent sink in.

“Thank you.”

Brighella looked pleased, green eyes glittering. “You’re welcome.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, and you listened to the way the wind rattled the glass nearby. It was getting late already, you could see the moon rising over the trees in the distance. Nine days now with no word from Dottore at all. You were sure he was probably keeping the segments away from you too because you hadn’t seen a single one since that night.

After a few moments of silence, Brighella asked, “He told you that he had a meeting in Mondstadt?”

You didn’t respond, you supposed that was answer enough because he let out a heavy sigh.

“The Regrator does love his underhanded tactics.”

“And you don’t?” you couldn’t help but press, eyeing him curiously.

“I do.” At least he didn’t bother hiding it, shooting you a deceptively friendly smile as he relaxed back into the chair. “But it’s different, my underhanded tactics are for the greater good.”

“Many men have claimed to do terrible things for the greater good,” you murmured. “What makes you different?”

Your subordinate killed my father, you were saying, tell me how that was for the greater good?

Brighella watched you for a second and then said, “Perhaps you’re right, but I’d like to believe otherwise.”

You hummed, looking away but you could feel that he was still looking at you and it was making you feel antsy, like a cornered animal.

Finally, Brighella spoke up again. This time, his voice was far more quiet, as if he didn’t want someone listening in. “I wish we had more time to talk instead of rushing straight to business, but I fear that I’m testing many boundaries and patiences by coming to visit you and I’d like for you to understand why I am.” Curiously, your eyes focused onto him, he was still staring at you, watching your reactions. “The Regrator cannot give you what you want. He has no power in Fontaine, nor jurisdiction over any of the subordinates there, that is why he’s coming to you and trying to get your assistance. He does not want to use me as an intermediary for his business.”

There it was. You raised your chin a bit in surprise as Brighella’s words reached your ears and his motives became clearer. You didn’t doubt that there were other ulterior ones that he was keeping to himself, but this one was enough for you to get some clarity on the situation: Brighella and Pantalone were playing a game of chess for Fontaine, and both thought that you would be the piece that would win them the game.

You realized, slowly, that you might just have a bit more power than you realized, and that Pantalone had been trying to keep you ignorant to it.

It also gave you more insight on the Fatui itself, and more specifically, the relationship between the Harbingers. You had a feeling that the camaraderie shown during the event was just a show but you hadn’t thought the rivalry ran so deep as to having Harbingers competing for power through using outside sources.

You wondered if Brighella realized just how much he had revealed to you. From the steady look in his eyes as he watched you, he very much did. You wondered then why, because it had to be something beyond just trying to get you to not help Pantalone—unless he was that desperate to keep Fontaine in his grasp. But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you finally responded with, pointedly meeting his eyes.

He was studying you carefully and finally, he nodded, rising to his feet. “It’s alright. I’ll come back soon and give you some time to think. Just remember, what the Regrator promised you is not something he is able to give at this point and time. He’s making you think that you are the one dependent on him but without your cooperation, he doesn’t have a foothold in Fontaine, which is what he desperately wants.”

You didn’t respond as he walked out of the room, but before he stepped through the door, he turned to look at you one last time, “Enjoy the tartiflette—perhaps next time, I’ll bring you an even grander gift.”

You were not in the library the next time Brighella came to visit. You were lounging in your room preparing for bed when the knock came at your door. For a second, just a second, you might’ve hoped that it was Dottore, finally ending the war between the two of you—but as you called for the person to come in, and a head of curly blonde hair and green eyes peeked from around the door, the bit of hope that had sprung up withered in an instant.

“May I?” Brighella asked, motioning for him to come into your room.

How improper, you thought to yourself, trying to force away the heat that rose to your cheeks. But you needed to keep talking to him, milk him for all that he knew before you made a decision about what you were going to do.

“Of course,” you responded with, watching him carefully as he slipped into the room and made his way over to where you were sitting. He sat on the window nook next to where you were sitting at your vanity, leaning back on his hands as he studied you carefully.

“Have you thought about my proposal yet?” Brighella murmured, his eyes were intense as he watched you, you could barely even hold his gaze and you had never had trouble holding anyone’s gaze before.

You had. Of course, you had. With the newfound knowledge of Pantalone’s inability to actually get you what you want without you giving him what he wanted first, everything changed. Your whole position in this situation changed. You were still a prisoner, naturally, but you were a prisoner with power right now. You had two different Harbingers vying to acquire your support. It could change in a second, you knew that, you couldn’t get ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t just disregard the opportunity this presented.

You also could not take everything Brighella said at face value.

You remembered the look in his eyes when you first met him, the skeevy one that reminded you of your stepfather and all of the other men and women in your life who had done terrible, terrible things without remorse.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied instead, and Brighella sighed, disappointed but not surprised.

“Ah, I see,” Brighella said. “I haven’t quite gained your trust yet—well, perhaps this will change that.”

From his pocket, Brighella pulled out a piece of parchment, sealed with a wax Fatui insignia. He held it out to you and you reached out cautiously, taking it into your hands and turning it over to view the blank back of the parchment. You had no way of knowing the contents of it without breaking the wax seal, you looked up at Brighella, questioningly. He looked pleased, a small smile teasing at his lips.

“This is a letter I have addressed to a particular subordinate of mine stationed down in Fontaine,” Brighella explained, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on his knee as he watched you. You could only barely bite back the sharp intake of breath as you looked down at the parchment again. “Yes, yes, I know, you don’t know what I’m talking about. But hypothetically, if you did, I was willing to gift you one of two options.”

“What are these hypothetical options?” you asked, your knuckles just a bit too tight around the parchment to pass it off as normal.

“You can keep that letter, and we can work together as partners. I can work with the Knave to set up a mission with the Jester and the Tsaritsa to have you head back to Fontaine, where you can use the letter as evidence to put said subordinate on trial before the Hydro Archon and Chief Justice,” Brighella said, your throat felt tight and swollen, your lips on the verge of trembling.

Everything you wanted, but there had to be a catch. You knew better. For all you knew, the contents of the letter was empty, he could let you go down to Fontaine only to make you look like a fool when you presented the letter as evidence.

“The second option?” you asked, proud that your voice remained steady and void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you.

“I will send it south and summon him back to Snezhnaya. You can exact your own justice here.”

What was the catch?

There had to be a catch, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out. You knew it was something more than just preventing Pantalone from stepping into his territory but Brighella was impossible to read and far more unpredictable than you expected. You were baffled that he would go to this length to try to get you to trust him.

“You can hold onto the letter until you’ve made your decision, I-”

“My, my,” a familiar, smooth voice drawled. “What is this?”

At once, your blood ran cold as you looked up to see a familiar figure standing in your doorframe, violet eyes cold and cruel as he stared at where you were sitting with Brighella. Brighella only smiled thinly, mocking, as he looked at Pantalone and said: “Regrator, I hope you don’t mind me spending time with your new advisor, she’s quite the lovely little thing. I’m rather fond of her.”

“Is that meant to mean much?” Pantalone asked dryly, the smile on his lips tightening at the corners and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say. “You’re fond of everything with two legs that will open for you.”

Your face felt hot, fingers tightening around the parchment as his words registered. Two legs that will open?

How dare he?

Who does he think he is?

The barrage of livid questions battered your head, begging to be let loose but you bit your tongue, sharpening it as you instead responded with: “How crude, I know you had an unfortunate upbringing but I thought you’d learned better by now than to speak every vile word that crosses through that repulsive mind of yours.”

Next to you, Brighella hid his smile behind his hand and you at least felt a little validated even as Pantalone’s eyes bore down into you, you could see the promise for bloodshed barely veiled beneath his calm expression.

“I’ll take my leave.” Brighella rose to his feet and to your horror, he leaned in close to you, taking both of your hands in his and you wanted to pull away, ask him what the hell he was thinking, but the words died on your tongue as he took the parchment from your hand before Pantalone could catch sight of it, subtly letting it drop to the floor before using his foot to slip it beneath the bed. His lips flickered upward. “Think about what I said. I’ll come by again.”

“No, you will not,” Pantalone interjected coolly. “I believe I have mentioned before that you are not welcome in my wing of the palace, Friar.”

“Then I will send one of my subordinates to fetch her to bring her to mine.” Brighella waved off the comment. “It’s no bother.”

He directed a faux-smile toward Pantalone as he slipped past the other Harbinger and left the room, leaving you alone with him. Pantalone stared after Brighella for a moment before turning his attention on you.

You raised your chin and asked sweetly, “How did your business deal down in Mondstadt fare?” knowing damn well that there was no business deal down in Mondstadt.

He very clearly understood what you were getting at, the sweet smile on his lips just as fake as your tone as he said, “Very well.”

“I’m sure.”

The mockery in his eyes slowly slipped away the longer he stared at you—he wanted to say something, that was for sure, but he either didn’t know how to say it or he couldn’t, and you had a distinct feeling that Pantalone spoke more than he breathed so finding a way to say it was not the problem, he felt that he couldn’t.

“The Friar is not to be trusted,” he finally decided.

“There is not a single soul within this palace that is to be trusted,” you countered icily.

He smiled, but the smile did not meet his eyes. “Fair enough.”

There was a quiet tone to his voice, you wondered if any of Brighella’s statements held any truth to them, if he was worried that you would side with the Tenth instead of him, and he would lose his shot at expanding the Northland Bank into Fontaine.

Something wicked swam in his eyes as his gaze cast over where you were sitting once more, voice more scathing now. “I do wonder how the Doctor will feel about your newfound relationship with the Friar,” and you realized that the Regrator did not fret over anything. And if he was backed into a corner like a wounded animal, he would lash out ten times as deadly.

He was threatening to tell Dottore if you did not speak to his liking, if you did not dismiss Brighella’s option.

Your eyes widened, just a bit—you knew there was nothing wrong with what you’d been talking about with the Friar. Dottore knew that you were here for one thing, and one thing alone: obtaining the evidence to convict your stepfather of your father’s murder. But you had a feeling that Pantalone would be spiteful and describe what he had walked in on as not what really happened, he’d put it in the worst light possible and blow the slim chance you had for Dottore ever showing up…

Or, it would finally force him into action.

It was a risky gamble—one that you weren’t sure if you should take. Dottore was prideful and stubborn and you didn’t know how far it extended. It could blow up in your face, or it could finally get you what you wanted: the upperhand.

You had never been a gambling woman before, but ever since you got to Snezhnaya, you were being put into situations forcing you to change and adapt just so you could survive, so you could bring justice to your father.

You didn’t think you liked the person who you were becoming, but you didn’t think you had a choice.

You smiled at Pantalone, but the smile was as empty as you felt.

“I don’t particularly care what the Doctor feels concerning my relationship with Brighella. Tell him whatever you please, do pass on my regards to the younger segments though.”

“I must say your soulmate truly is a little spitfire, she has proven it time and time again.”

Dottore sighed as he looked up from his vial, heavy eyes focusing on Pantalone as the man slunk into his labs as if he owned them. His smile was tight and his eyes were not in the typical upturn they usually turned up whenever he was amused—whatever you had said to him had severely pissed him off, it nearly made his own lips twitch upward, wondering what exactly you had said to get under his skin so badly.

“And what did she say this time?” Dottore drawled, not even bothering to feign curiosity, placing the vial back down on the burner as he looked up at Pantalone, whose eye twitched at the question.

“It’s about time you stop playing this game with her, Doctor.” Was all Pantalone said in response, observing a failed, burnt test subject disdainfully, poking at it with a long, gloved finger before drawing his gaze back up to Dottore.

“And here I thought you were playing the same game,” Dottore dismissed, although he would beg to differ that it was not a game, but the last thing he wanted was to get into a battle of semantics with Pantalone. “Was that not why you’ve been loitering around my labs this past week?”

“Yes, I was,” Pantalone agreed, but there was an edge to his voice that made Dottore suspicious, “and it backfired. A certain snake rose from the grasses to take advantage.”

“Hm?” Dottore tilted his head to the side, red eyes narrowing as Pantalone’s words registered.

“Now is not the time for your stubbornness, Doctor,” the banker warned. “Continue to disregard her and she will turn to someone else… or I suppose, she already has. I caught her acting rather intimately with the Friar in her quarters just before I came here.”

Dottore’s lips flattened and his eyes went cold, Pantalone caught the physical reaction, eyebrows shooting upward, mockingly. But Pantalone could only see the physical reaction, he could not feel how Dottore’s blood somehow felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time, he could not see how his vision tunneled and he could not hear how his ears were ringing.

Intimately?

There it was again—that prideful and possessive feeling rearing its ugly head. You were his, only by fate and by chance, but you were his nonetheless, even if he was loathe to admit it. He ignored the hypocrisy of his thoughts, you were his and yet he had ignored you for over a week? He was laying claim to you after all of his denial and anger?

He had been doing what was right, separating himself from you to prevent the bond from getting any stronger. He wasn’t playing the same game that Pantalone was, isolating you to try to make you more malleable to his requests when he finally came back around; Dottore did not play games, not with anyone, much less with you.

But was he okay with you turning your attention elsewhere with his absence?

No. No, he was not. The thought filled him with an emotion he hadn’t felt in over four hundred years, not since his years as a Fatui recruit before he’d learned to separate himself from his emotions.

“She asked for me to pass on my regards to the younger segments.” Pantalone smiled as he spoke, knowing that the words were bound to set Dottore off even more because how dare you send your regards to the children as you let another man into your quarters. “I’ll be heading to my office now. I have some paperwork to finish filling out. Do think on what I said, I expected a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine to come out of this arrangement. If it does not, you will have to make up for it.”

“Your expectations are not my responsibility,” Dottore said, voice clipped and icy and far more strained than he meant for it to be.

Pantalone only let out a huff of laughter as he spun on his heel, shooting Dottore one last long look that had Dottore’s body begging for violence as a response. Nearly twenty years of him being forced into a corner because of you, and it was only getting worse.

“It is in this situation,” he said as he made his way out of the lab as quickly as he had come, leaving Dottore there alone with raging thoughts and turbulent emotions.

The Friar.

Brighella.

Lip curled up in a type of rage he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, he finished putting his equipment away and reached for his mask, intent on heading to your quarters himself to understand just what was going on between you and the Tenth.

It was the first time you’d been in Snezhnaya where there hadn’t been a storm battering the night. Once the Regrator had left you to your business, and you were finally able to finish getting ready for bed, you curled up at the window nook to look outside, where the air was still bitter and cold but the harsh winds had subsided and the moon was reflecting prettily over the frozen lake north of the palace.

It looked calm and peaceful—you thought there was a beauty to Snezhnaya that was unique. The Hydro Archon and her acolytes liked to frame the nation as one big frozen wasteland but the more time you spent there, the more you realized that it was just not true. It was frozen, yes, but there were towering trees and massive lakes, the snow sparkled beneath the sun and moon in a way you’d never seen before.

You pressed the pad of your finger against the glass, a longing feeling sweeping over you as your eyes focused on the line of trees on the opposite side of the frozen lake. You thought that this might be your chance—the storms had subsided, you could make a break for it, but you knew deep down that the lack of storm was a deception you couldn’t afford to fall for. Just because the winds had died and the snow and ice had stopped falling, it didn’t mean that it was safe enough to travel through. You would still freeze. Perhaps if you had a pyro vision, it would be different but your hydro vision would do nothing to protect you against the cold.

You sighed, laying your forehead against the window and letting the chilly feeling spread through you, a stark contrast from the warmth of the fireplace emanating throughout your room.

You wondered if you made a mistake. You had antagonized Pantalone, and he had likely antagonized Dottore on your behalf. It had felt good in the moment—a sharp jab that relieved some of the heavy pressure that isolation had put on you, but now the pressure was back and worse than before.

You were not wondering. You knew it had been a mistake.

Even if Brighella had been telling the truth and you held more power than Pantalone was leading you to believe, you couldn’t afford to isolate yourself from the option he presented. Dottore clearly trusted him enough to trust him with you, which you thought was about the biggest show of trust anyone could get from the Second.

And neither of them trusted Brighella.

Your pride and anger had gotten the best of you—they had gotten the best of you when you had thought you had been in control. You laid everything out logically, convinced yourself that the option Brighella posed was just as appealing as Pantalone, forgetting that at the very least, Dottore and Pantalone were known threats to you. That yes, Pantalone wanted to use you and Dottore wanted nothing to do with you, but neither of them would risk your safety. Brighella was an unknown, just a charming and manipulative one that knew precisely when and how to strike.

You weren’t cut out for this. You let your eyes slide shut as you tried to force away the tears building in them. Frustration, anger, desperation, they were all becoming too much for you to handle. You didn’t know what to do. If Brighella was telling the truth, he really was the key to getting what you want, but you couldn’t trust him, you didn’t know what his motives were. Behind the pretty eyes and glittering smile was a snake with venomous fangs that could clamp down at any moment.

You thought the courts of Fontaine had prepared you for this but the Snezhnayan court and the heart of the Fatui was a beast that you were not equipped to deal with. The courts of Fontaine were a beast, you would never think otherwise, but you’d been foolish enough to let yourself believe that they were similar enough to Snezhnaya’s that you’d be able to handle it.

In Fontaine, your name had power and words were as sharp and lethal as daggers—as long as you put on a pretty mask and an entertaining performance, you would survive, but the aristocrats and observers of justice would eat alive anyone who could not put on a convincing and beguiling show.

In Snezhnaya, your name meant nothing and the only coat of protection you could place over yourself was Dottore’s position in the Fatui, and his forced bond to you. Your mask was shattering the longer you were stuck in the cold, and the entertaining performances you were so adept at putting on were becoming more pathetic than anything else. Danger lurked around every corner, not even just those who wanted to kill you as a means to weaken the Doctor, but also those who hated you for the country you come from. You had seen the way one of the Harbingers had looked at you during the event, and having even one Harbinger against you meant that you had hundreds of subordinates out for your throat to try to gain her approval.

You were well beyond your depth. A vast ocean all around you and the currents were dragging you under, water filling your lungs as you tried to thrash your way back to the surface but there was an anchor chained to your ankle that you simply couldn’t fight against.

You took in a deep, shuddered breath. You thought back to the old prophecy, the one that whispered that one day Fontaine and all of its citizens would be washed away by the rising waters, drowned by that which is supposed to protect them, finding their eternal rest in the sands until they became one with the sea.

Sometimes you wondered if it was a literal or metaphorical fate, you had always taken it as literal and dismissed it as an old wives’ tale, but now you were questioning everything you held as true: you felt like you were drowning, your identity dissolving as the water closed in around you, and you felt helpless to it, just like how the ancient prophecy threatened.

Finally, you raised your head and looked back outside, eyes widening when you caught sight of a figure standing in the frame of your door through the reflection of the window, tall and imposing. You hadn’t even heard the door open. Even with the mask, you could feel the coldness behind his gaze.

He only spoke one word:

“Come.”

reblogs appreciated!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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angelanderson · 10 months

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I really want an Ellabs x reader fic of fem reader really needing comfort bc she's sad/overwhelmed but she tries to hide it from ellabs but obv they notice smth is off, so they tell her they noticed smth is wrong and she kinda breaks down at that, then they comfort her thru it, listening to her problems or insecurities n'stuff <33 Sorry if it's confusing and/or too long, u dont gotta do it but i'd appreciate it tons <33 (Im totally not self projecting)

ur projecting = supported. 🫢 100% sfw/comfort fic but still no men or minors. type of relationship between them is up to u! this ended up a semi- full length fic oops ? enjoy!

sometimes it just feels too hard. being the newest member in jackson means you feel like you have to prove your worth 24/7. and it’s exhausting, really. abby is just so strong, ellie has the best patrol work, and you? you feel… weak. you (falsely) feel like nothing you’ve done has proven you’re worth the space in jackson.

so when monday rolls around, you tell ellie and abby you have plans with someone else so you can just go home and hide. they don’t question that, why would they? tuesday you tell them you wanna go to bed early. okay, fine. but then it’s wednesday, and they’re starting to get that something is going on with you.

the worry starts to kick in wednesday night after maria tells the two women you asked to go home early, citing that you’re not feeling well. abby all but drags ellie to your tiny place immediately after hearing maria’s words. you always tell each other everything. so why didn’t you now?!

it’s easy to know abby and ellie are knocking at your door simply because of the sheer force of it. five minutes you try to pretend you’re not home. you don’t want them to see you in this state; you’ve been ugly crying for two hours now. however, they don’t give up. it’s not like you could expect anything else from them.

“baby, we know you’re home. let us in, yeah? we’re worried about you,” abby shouts out after another two minutes of knocking.

you respond back with a sickly voice from the sofa, “no, go away. ‘m busy.”

you can just feel the attitude enter ellie’s body now. you know how stubborn she can be. “no, we know you’re lying. i will find a way in if you don’t let us in within the next thirty seconds.”

you know she isn’t joking as you move to open the door. the sight of you upon opening the door is not a pretty one— your face is red, covered in tears. ellie takes a deep breath before she pushes in. she won’t let you shut them out anymore. abby shuts the door before them before heading you back onto the sofa with them. each other is on either side of you within the matter of seconds.

as per usual, abby is the first one to break the silence. “oh, honey, what’s going on? we could’ve helped you sooner if we knew.” the way she sounds sad just makes you feel worse.

insecurities once again bubbling over, you do the only thing you can think of: you try to shove abby away. being significantly stronger than you means it didn’t feel like a single thing. however, abby won’t put up with you lashing out right now. she knows you can be their sweet girl even in the toughest of moments.

ellie watches like a hawk as abby grabs both of your wrists to stop you from trying to push her away again. “just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can act out. are you going to be the big girl i know you are now? or do i need to keep you here?”

the concerned sternness of her voice makes you whimper in reply. fresh tears leak down your face as you try to find the words to explain. “i- i just don’t think i deserve to be here! everyone, especially you two, carry your weight around here! and what do i do? i’m just a stupid girl working in the bar!”

and, well, neither of them could say they were expecting that response. sure, you were newer to Jackson, but so was everyone at one point. you were also one of the most popular Jackson residents— everyone loves the energy you bring to the bar after a long day of work. so it just makes sense that both women are beyond shocked to realize that this is why you’re so down. how could you not know how loved you are here?

as yet another round of tears starts to fall, you feel abby’s big arms quickly pull you into her chest. your body starts to shake with each inhale as you start to sob into abby’s chest. while ellie rushes to rub your back, abby starts to tilt your head up so you can see her.

“angel, angel, no. let’s take some deep breathes and then we’ll all have a talk, okay?”, abby coos as she wipes away the falling tears.

ellie puts your right hand over abby’s heart when your breathing doesn’t start to slow any. she speaks in the softest voice she can muster up,“deep breaths with me and abby, baby. feel abby’s heart beat. we’re all going to just relax together before anything else.”

two minutes between your favorite people is all it takes to reduce you to just sniffles. you slouch back into your seat once you’ve finally caught your breath. you look up at abby and ellie with wet eyes before letting out a long sigh. no one is sure who should speak first.

ellie decides she’ll be the one to start, “it’s not true, you know? everyone here loves you. helping run the bar is important. you create a space where we can all relax for once. emphasis on the relax part.”

abby grunts in agreement with ellie. “you know ellie’s right, don’t you baby,” abby questions before looking over to ellie, “our favorite girl’s always making everyone feel happy, isn’t she?”

“for real though, you really do play a big part here. you know ellie and i started arguing less when you came around? pretty big deal there, you know. even joel commented on it,” the dirty blonde continues on the conversation.

and that makes you giggle for the first time all day. “even joel? really?” while you knew they had a previous history of more frequent fights, you didn’t know even joel was over it back then too.

“yeah, it’s really true,” abby starts before taking a breath to think about her next words. she exhales, “strength isn’t everything, you know? you add just as much as we do here. creating a space where people can relax while we live on this hell on earth is just as important as what we do. we all do the best here because we are better with each other. our system can’t function without others.”

you’re sure you’d be crying tears of happiness right now if you weren’t so exhausted from all your previous crying. your previous anxieties start to slip away as you start to truly internalize both of their words from today. you are important. you matter here. just like everyone else.

no one is given a chance to speak before you’re pulling ellie and yourself on top of abby. “i love you, i love you, i love you both,” you whisper out. “you’re right. i promise i’ll come talk to you next time i’m feeling down, okay? know you’ll make me say that part next!”

“okay smarty pants, you better. also, we always are, darling. love you the most,” teases ellie before she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“hey! what if i love you both the most? then what?” you’re sure you can feel ellie roll her eyes as abby whines out playfully.

“okay, okay. how about we all love each other the most? can we just agree so i can drink some water now? my head is killing me.” a major post-crying headache has just started to come on for you.

ellie rolls her eyes playful at both of you. “i’ll get us all some water”, she commands as she walks to your kitchen, “and get comfy with abby. we’ll watch a movie, and yes, you can choose today.”

yay! end note to say ur important and i’m glad ur here + love that we all each add our own special things to this earth 🫂

#ellabs x reader #ellabs #ellie willams x reader #abby anderson x reader #ellie x reader x abby #ellie williams drabble #abby anderson drabble #abby drabbles #ellie drabbles #tlou fluff #abby anderson fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x you #ellie williams x you

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dbzkaka · 19 days

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We dont talk enough about the fact that Goku wasnt born strong. Gohan, Vegeta, Broly, Goten, Trunks... all born with innate strength. But Goku... Goku was weak. His entire life growing up, there was ALWAYS someone stronger than him.

For a saiyan to be outmatched by earthlings... ridiculous. But he was. Several times over. Every bit of strength Goku has, he had to work for, train relentlessly for. Its easy to forget because hes so strong now and continiously comes out ahead. But thats the POINT.

Vegeta grew up knowing he was the pride of the saiyan race, born strong, elite, a prodigy. He was hopelessly outmatched by frieza and some of his army, but for a saiyan, vegeta was the strongest (or so he believed).

Because the saiyans put so much belief into power you were born with, power you were destined to have. You either had strength or you didnt. And Goku didnt. So he was third class. His destiny wasnt power, it was weakness.

Its why Vegeta is so constantly thrown off by and therefore obsessed with Goku in the beginning. Because how could someone born so weak be THIS strong? It didnt make sense.

Then we have Gohan, born with incredible hidden reserves of power. Unlike Goku, Gohan was born with potential. His strength was always there. And sure, he had to work incredibly hard to unlock it but its a story arc we keep seeing repeated with gohan. Either its unlocked with anger or someone unlocks it for him (the grand elder, old kai, etc.)

And then Goten and Trunks, both super saiyan by the age of 7. Power came EASY to them. It was as natural as breathing. Goku, Vegeta, and even Gohan all struggled to reach super saiyan. It took a toll. But Trunks and Goten take that power from literal legend and make it a game.

No one has ever had to work as hard as Goku to achieve strength. And you can argue with me on this all day long if you want to. He didnt have hidden powers. There were no hidden reserves, no one to unlock his innate abilities. When he was a child, his unnatural strength compared to human made him special. But for a saiyan, goku was one of the lowest of their race.

Every bit of strength, every morsel of power in gokus body, was built through training. He didnt unlock hidden potentials, HE CREATED them. Its why Goku is the mortal who figures out how to unlock ultra instinct. Because he almost never won a battle purely based off a sheer power, no. Goku had to be smart, needed to be clever. He was forced to hone technique just as much as power, was taught by all his masters the importance of harnessing his mind as well as his body. He grew up meditating, sensing energy, learning not to rely on his eyes, but all his senses. He was training to filter out his own extra unnecessary movements all the way back when he first met Korin and then later again with Kami.

Goku lost fights a lot. All the time. But everytime he lost, he learned. Because he was forced too. Because when Goku lost, there was no backup. He was it. And so he would HAVE to come back stronger, have to find the way to win. Or everyone would be dead.

Maybe its just me but i just think theres something incredibly special about a saiyan labeled as "weak," a saiyan no one bothered to pay any mind to being the first to become legend. He avenged their entire race. That little boy with a tail, born with a power level of 2, became the strongest of them all.

#goku #kakarot #saiyans #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dbz #dragon ball super #dbs #dragon ball analysis #ultra instinct #super saiyan #vegeta #gohan #trunks #goten #frieza

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bakananya · 30 days

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Not well written, but the idea was too interesting to just not write it down. I will prolly write a fic on ao3 with better writing, this is just to put the idea out there so I dont forget about it. Just an enemies to lovers Azriel x oc or azriel x reader idea I had, with a lot of random background Idea I had on the character. Its angsty, and not the best meet cute but you know, I got the idea from a dream after I fell asleep listening to look what you made me, I did something bad, you should see me in a crown and therefore I am on loop. Good dream tbh. Anyway enjoy!

"What do you want from me, Shadowsinger?" She spat out, her hatred for his kind evident in her tone.

He tilts his head to the side again, his hazel eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He walked closer to her, his footsteps silent. "Nothing much, just curious as to why a young woman with no records of her existence is going out raiding, massacring and making so much chaos at illyrian camps?"

"They deserved it." She said quietly, but firmly. "If you're here for the women and their kids that are missing, they don't want to be found. They are safe, fed, comfortable and for the first time in their miserable lives, happy." She held her head high at the words.

"That did not answer my question. Why is a young girl such as yourself, carrying out such planned raids and missions? It can't possibly be to no end? What is your purpose?" He paused, giving her a moment to answer, but continued when she didn't. "You have caused quite the ruckus, you know? Become quite a threat." He said again, face still unreadable as he maintains the distance, knowing she could winnow away at any moment, in the cold and chilly mountains. It took months for him to track her once, he could not afford to lose her now.

"I will ask you again, Shadowsinger, what do you want?" She snarled.

"I am just trying to understand why you think a young girl like you is fit to be the judge, jury, and executioner. Justice is not something just anyone has the right to bestow." His words were veiled in amusement, as if all of her carefully plotted plans and raids were temper tantrums of a child, and not a movement in and of itself.

Her eyes glowed as her anger takes over and her magic her magic seeps out from her, uncontrolled and wild. The sheer strength of it had his amusement dying down into a look of wariness. "Do you want to know, Shadowsinger? You find it so amusing, don't you?"

He stares at her for a minute, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he realized her weakness.

Her wrath.

"It seems I struck a cord. I do not find it amusing, but rather pitiful, you are so young, with so much anger inside you. What a waste."

She stepped closer, her magic thrumming in the ground, yet her words were quiet, filled with a kind of contempt that could only come from years of experience of things better left unheard, and unseen. "They took me from my mother by force, chopped off my wings, used me for their pleasure and left me there to die. An illyrian camp. And no one. Did. A thing." Her eyes were glaring right into Azriel's, her eyes full of all consuming wrath, as her words reminded him of another female he knew.

She laughed, but no humor was present in her voice as she continued. "No one even knew. You and your high lord lived blissfully unaware while my existence crumbled." She hissed at him, stopping just a few steps away.

"I was broken, thought I would never find myself again as I struggled in a lonely cabin I found abandoned in the woods. Felt as if everyday, I was still there, half-dead on the side of the road. Of course I knew living in the cabin was mercy compared to how they treated the women in those camps, like slaves. And thats when a girl came knocking at my door, an escapee from a camp. We decided soon after to create a safe space, for people like us. And the rest is history." She continued, eyes becoming damp at the memory, before shaking her head and smiling slightly, so sweetly. Azriel almost forgot that she had slaughtered a few dozen men a few hours ago.

He tried to reach out silently to catch her as she finally got to a distance where he knew he could grab her, so he could get more information out of her, about things she were clearly omitting, only to realise, that he couldn't move.

He looked up at her in horror as she continued smiling, almost as if it took her no effort restraining one of the strongest illyrians in history.

It didn't, Azriel realised.

"And so we trained. And I took so much pleasure in breaking the bones of men in illyrian camps as we raided them. Saved the women that wanted to leave, took them with us, back to our hideout, expanded it until it became a thriving community. We raided camps and bring people back, who can pick whatever they excel in and work in tandem. It is what I deserved when I had nothing. What they deserve." She smiled, pride shining in her eyes as she now dropped down to sit on a log in front of him, more interested in a white wildflower glowing in the moonlight instead of him.

"Say, Azriel, You're half illyrian, are you not?" She asked, her voice higher, lighter, mocking. "You trained in one of their camps, with your oh so righteous brothers, did you not?"

She did not wait for him to reply, knowing he couldn't. She made sure of it from her magic, taking away his ability to speak.

"You know it as well. Your brothers do too." Her voice was bitter as she plucked the flower. "And yet you choose to hide away in your pretty little city of starlight, ignoring the pain these women go through every day." She finally looked up at him, eyes shining with contempt. "You're just as bad as them." She hissed. "Why shouldn't I shred your wings like your people did to me? Speak, Shadowsinger, speak."

It took a moment for him to realise he could speak again.

Azriel was frustrated, he understood where she was coming from but he could feel his defensive nature for his family coming up. "Rhysand tries. He tries his best to do things for the girls there. There's new laws, there's change. It's happening but these things take time. We are nothing like them."

"You're illyrian, they're illyrian. You saw the suffering of the women there and chose to do nothing about it. You high lord may have put new rules in place, banning clipping of wings, and starting the training of girls. But you and I both know it still happens. All of you do." She shrugged, back to examining the flower. Her face was young still, and her body lithe, Azriel's heart felt a little heavy at the thought of her past, but the anger he felt at being this defenseless in front of a young fae overpowered that.

A dark growl escaped his lips as his jaw tensed, his voice was raspy when he finally continued. "We are trying our best to keep track of it, to eradicate such malpractices comple-"

He was cut off yet again, but this time her voice was louder.

"Well trying is not good enough!" She snapped. "You don't even know it when it happens. You're too busy going on fancy dinners with your inner circle. If you are so good at protecting illyrian women, where are my wings, Azriel?" She hissed as she looked into his eyes as if she was looking into his soul.

He froze at her question, his hazel eyes widening slightly. His jaw was still tense, and he tried to move his body again, failing to do so. He didn't say anything, choosing to remain silent. There was a hint of shame in his eyes as he looked away.

She scoffed as she looked away again as she dropped the flower and stood up again, dusting off her hands against each other.

"Thought so. Anyway," She cleared her throat, putting on a sickly sweet smile. "I am bored and tired of playing with you now. Scurry off, like the dog that you are and tell your high lord I said Hi. I am sure a very interesting gossip session awaits the inner circle tonight." She finished, the end of her sentence blended with yawn that had her stretching her taut muscles as she freed him from her magic and disappeared before he could even get used to the control he now had over his body again.

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 3 months

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Sword gays showdown, round 2 of bracket one

Propaganda:

For Zoro:

Literally training to be the greatest swordsman in the world. Has a special three swords technique (one blade in each hand plus one with the handle held in his teeth). I haven't read the manga or watched the anime but the live action adaptation gives me extremely gay vibes and based on the fandom things I've seen I'm not the only one

bro uses three swords. has one in his mouth. dont ask how the HELL he manages that. one day he will be the worlds greatest swordsman....after he beats the current greatest for both the titles of greatest swordsman and fruitiest swordsman. he's dramatic as FUUUCK like bro what the hell. has homoerotic fights with the local twink like everyday. directionally challenged, can and will get lost in a paper bag, doesnt know left from right...he probably cant read, too. hes too silly ngl

First of all, im in like episode 250 and so far he hasnt been shown attracted to any woman at all during the whole show so far, not even when one changed clothes in the same room as him and this is anime so you know there were other characters with bloody noses and shit. With that out of the way he wields three swords at once [two in his hands, one is his goddamn mouth dude. Its cool af trust me.] When he was little he made a promise to his best friend that he'd be the best swordsman in the world. Later she died in a tragic accident and left her sword which he still uses today. He also carries a cursed sword but he overpowers the curse with a combination of skill and sheer luck. He got stuck in a chimney. While his crewmates sail their ship he takes naps. He learned how to cut through metal by fighting a guy who could turn his body into metal blades. That's metal. He refuses to fight this liberal marine officer because she looks like his childhood best friend and its just understandably really awkward for him. He's autistic. He's a he/him bisexual lesbian. He's a gay man. He's ace/aro. He's whatever you want him to be babey!!

he has 3 swords, wields one in his mouth sometimes, his dream is to be the greatest swordsman in the world

three swords and big aroace-spec gay vibes

He not only has a sword he has *three* swords. He's absolutely gay there's no way to see this man as straight. Also one time he licked his sword for no reason and that was really funny to me so I had to mention it

Look, this man thinks about three things: Swords, His Captain, and Booze. He’s on a quest to be the worlds greatest swordsman. The Live action has a scene where he declares his undying, unwavering loyalty to his captain WHILE reaffirming his promise to be the worlds greatest swordsman. At this point His dream and his Captain are so intertwined it’s crazy. Man is so sword-y he’s got three of them. When one of his swords broke he carried its empty scabbard until he was able to give it a SWORD FUNERAL. He hears a sword is cursed and takes that as a challenge. He will literally tell his swords off for “bad behavior” when they “act up” due to being straight up cursed. He tests one by throwing it in the air and sticking his arm out to see if it is so blood thirsty and ill tempered that it will cut him. Even though he’s literally the first mate if you ask him what his role is he’s going to answer Swordsman.

He's dedicated his life to two things: becoming the greatest swordsman in the world and his captain, Luffy.

He mastered the three sword style. Its his style. It would've been more swords but he could only fit one sword in each hand and one in his mouth. He wants to be the world's greatest swordsman, a deal he made with his childhood best frenemy (before she died falling down the stairs). He thought he was All That at the start and was almost completely decimated by the actual Worlds Greatest Swordsman. Now, after two years forced training with that guy, he's probably in the top tier no-doubt, and honestly could already be the best but we just don't know for sure yet. Also, did I mention: he's got the whole demon/devil imagery going on at times. And he has absolutely no sense of direction! plus is a total softie when it comes to Chopper and all the children who somehow gravitate towards him. And he loves naps!

One of the guy's main goals in life is to be the best sword fighter and he fights with three swords which I think is telling enough of his skill.

For Sayaka Miki:

my favourite scene is the one where Sayaka turns off all her pain receptors to battle the shadow witch, uncaring of the damage dealt to her body, because what is a body but a decaying vessel you must eventually abandon anyway? that was very depression of her <3 Also there’s that one time (in the rebellion movie) where Sayaka stabs herself on her own sword to release the witch that dwells within her. and then she immediately gets up to fight back to back with her girlfriend. that moment lives rent free in my head. Sayaka is so depression and I love her for it:)

SHES SO GAY ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY SHE FLIRTS W THE MAIN CHARACTER HER NARRATIVE FOIL IS ANOTHER GIRL W TBE OPPOSITE COLOR SCHEME THEYRE RED BLUE LESBIAN MOMENT YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT ELSE ??? SHE COMES TO THIS FALSE REALITY LITERALLY JUST TO SEE HER GIRLFRIEND ALIVE THEY LIVE TOGETHER AND THERES A WHOLE OUTRO SEQUENCE JUST W THE TWO OF THEM SHE STUDIED THE GAY BLADE I STG also she uses a sword 🗡️ love u sayaka

#sword gays showdown #roronoa zoro #sayaka miki #pmmm sayaka #pmmm #one piece #madoka magica #one piece zoro #puella magi madoka magica

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anna-the-undertaker · 7 months

Text

Southern MC and their cast iron skillet -

MC standing over the kitchen sink with their hands clenching the edge of the counter: BOYS!

The boys come running, recognizing MC's angry voice.

Lucifer: What is it this time, MC?

MC, taking a deep breath through their nose before speaking: Which one a y'all dumber than dirt idiots did this?

The boys are silent, so MC reaches into the dirty water, pulls out their now rusted iron skillet, and turns toward them, pointing it at them with a scowl written on their face.

MC: Now, I ain't stupid. It wasn't me, so dont even try to go that route. I left each and every one a y'all a simple list of instructions on how to care for this here skillet before I left to purgatory hall for the weekend. So I'll ask again... who did it? If I dont get an answer, all y'all are gone deal with the consequences.

Belphie: Is this really such a big deal? It's just a skillet.

MC glares at him: It is a big deal. Do you understand how a cast IRON skillet is maintained? Obviously, none a y'all do. Ya can't treat it like a regular skillet. You can't soak it overnight 'cause it will RUST 'CAUSE ITS MADE OF IRON! It's a tedious task to scrub all the rust off and reseason it, and even then, it takes a while for the damned thing to become seasoned to my liking! Which one of ya did it?! I won't ask again.

They remained silent, as always joining forces at the worst of times.

MC: Fine! Since all y'all wanna stand there like the lights are on but ain't no one home, I reckon I'll have to take this into my own hands. *They activated all of the boys pacts* Sit!

The boys do as they are told, their pact marks burning brightly at the command, as MC pulls out their DDD and calls a certain demon butler.

Barbatos answers, a knowing tone in his voice: MC, what can I do for you?

MC: Barb, darlin', could you be a dear and bring as many cast iron skillets as you can to the House of Lamentation? The boys need a lesson on how to care for 'em, and I intend for them to remember it well. I'll come to the castle and make you and Diavolo a pie for the inconvenience.

Barbatos chuckles: It would be my pleasure.

MC: Thank you, darlin'. See ya soon.

MC ends the call and turns her attention back to the boys: Now, when Bard gets here, y'all are going to wash the skillets, dry them with a dish towel, heat them on the stove, grease them, and set them aside to cool. When I return from Dia's, I am going to check every last one of 'em, and if they ain't done right, you'll do 'em again, ya hear?

They all nodded, some of them wore scowls on their face, while others looked sullen for being scolded.

Barbatos arrived soon after with so many skillets that it was comical, like he was prepared for this to happen. It was obvious he was far too entertained by this turn of events. The look on the brothers' faces at the sheer amount was hilarious.

When MC left with the Butler, bringing their iron skillet with them to clean it in peace, it didn't take long for the boys to turn on each other and an all-out war to take place.

When MC returned some hours later with a couple dozen pies and their renewed skillet, they found the boys scattered about looking worn out along with the damage they had done during their arguing. Mc almost felt bad for them. They had, however, finished all the skillets to perfection.

They all learned a lesson they would never forget.

You don't fuck with a southerners cast iron skillet.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me imagines #obey me chaotic mc #obey me southern mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

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soap comforting you as ghost punishes you for (yet another) escape attempt, holding your face in his hands, giving you soft kisses and telling you how it's gonna be ok, he had to learn the hard way too, but simon's just doing what's best, he always knows whats best, and if you just stick with it like johnny did and keep taking it like a good girl you can be just as happy as johnny is, as simon beats your ass raw with a heavy leather belt.

ok i had to sit on this one for a few hours because oh my fucking god. oh my fucking GOD. this is so hot. idk who you are but we are getting married and i expect to see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning so dont be late.

im having heart palpitations over this. all the same cw for the fic (plus punishment spanking with a belt) below the cut.

You're shaking, chest heaving and knees weak as Johnny drags you behind him. You try to beg, to plead for him to let you go and to make him understand but he refuses, just scowls and growls out, "Stop throwin' a hissy fit. You shouldnta ran, you knew that. What happens now is all yer own fault."

He takes you into the bedroom, tugs you forward and shoves you onto the bed, then gets in behind you and hugs you tightly to him. He's unwilling to let you go as he worms his way into the position he wants, wiggling with just his legs to help until he's propped up on the headboard with you between his thighs. He doesn't move to comfort you or soothe your cries, just listens as you whine and sob.

Eventually Simon comes in, looking angry. You thought you had seen him mad before but now... this is another level. It's something you had spotted in Johnny when he first found you, the primal rage clear in his eyes, but it rides Simon's entire body. If you hadn't known you'd fucked up already, Simon's form would've told you.

He's literally shaking in rage. His hands are balled into fists, but there's a little tremor there.

His strides to the bed are quick, and he's got your neck in a tight grip before you realize he's on his way. He yanks you forward, nearly out of Johnny's arms, and growls right in your face. "Back where you fucking belong, huh pet?"

You can only shiver, too spooked to answer. He scoffs, shoves you away and leans back on his heels. "You did good, Johnny. You'll get your reward later, yeah?"

Johnny's still tense, every line of him beneath you hard and rigid. "Yes, sir."

Simon stares you down for a moment, then blows out a harsh breath through his noise and reaches down to begin unbuckling his belt. "Flip her over, Johnny. Want you to hold her still for her punishment."

Johnny's moving to follow his orders before they're even finished, flipping you with ease and pressing down on your lower back to keep you pinned.

"Hng-!" you grunt, trying to push up and away from sheer panic, but Johnny's not having it. He lands a powerful blow on your ass, shocking you into staying still long enough for him to grab your chin and yank up so you're looking at him.

"Gotta take your punishment, baby," he murmurs, eyes softening just the slightest bit at your panic-stricken face. "It'll all be over once you take it, yeah? We'll forgive you after."

"Johnny," you whine, hands coming up to scrabble at his chest as you feel the bed shift to one side. He makes a little tsk sound, grabs both your wrists and forces them to the small of your back, holding them there with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

"Hush, now.. No more talkin' til Simon says."

There's another harsh blow to you ass, this one stronger and from Simon. You can't stifle your yelp at the immediate ache. "Tell me why you're in trouble."

You can only sniffle, trying to yank your chin away from Johnny to bury your face in his chest. He doesn't let you.

Another smack. "C'mon, girl. Tell me why you're in trouble. You don't want to make me ask again."

You jolt a little at that, slightly reinvigorated in your squirming until Johnny's hold tightens to an almost painful point. You finally try to gasp out an answer. "I-I left, I wasn-wasn't supposed to leave."

There's a snarl from behind you, another smack. "You ran away. Good girls don't fucking do that. Anythin' coulda happened out there, coulda fuckin' died without us there. That what you want?" smack "Huh? Answer me, you rather die than be with us, pet?"

"No!" you sob, hips wriggling. "No, no! 'm sorry!" You're nearly wailing, the anticipation for your punishment driving you insane. You can't hold back the sobs.

"Calm down," Simon grunts, a heavy hand coming to push between your shoulder blades. "Panic'll only put the punishment off. Let's just get this over with, yeah sweetheart?"

You whine in reply, blinking a little to clear your vision and staring deep into Johnny's eyes. There's a stillness in the room for a moment, it feels like time completely stops as they give you a second to come back to yourself.

"Count them," Simon commands after you breathe evenly a few times. Your eyes furrow just a bit, Johnny's lips quirking up, and you hear a loud sound of something swinging through the air before your backside erupts in pain.

You practically scream, attempting to shoot away from Johnny. He's ready for you, muscling you back into place on top of him. He locks his ankles on top of yours, holds your legs down so you have no leverage.

There's another blow landed before you've fully realized what's happening. You let out a high shout again, eyes squeezed shut in pain as you're forced to just lay still and take it.

"Count, lass," Johnny murmurs, free hand stroking over your head far too softly considering how roughly he holds the rest of you.

Another blow, another shout, and in the short space between another you call out "Th-three! Three!"

There's a grunt from behind you, a hand stroking over one of your cheeks that has you yelping and trying to jerk away despite it's softness. "No. Start over."

Another blow. You wail in pain, sucking in just enough air to shout, "One!"

"Good. Again."

Another blow. They feel endless, you shouting and crying out in pain until it feels like your throat is bleeding, interspersed with what feel like empty comforts from Johnny.

"You're alright, lass, you can take it."

"F-four!"

"I know, I know it hurts, bonnie. You'll be alright, you're taking it so well."

"A-ah!"

"What number?"

"Five! Five, please, stop I can't-!"

"Simon's takin' real good care of you, baby. Just gotta teach you a lesson, yeah? Teach you what you did wrong."

"Six!"

"It's scary, isn't it? It's ok, you can handle it. Be a good girl for us now."

"S... seven, oh god-"

"Hush, you just have to let it happen. It gets better, you'll see. Simon'll show you."

"Eight... eight, please, I can't take it... I can't..."

"You can. I did it too, lass. It's hard, I know, but it's good. It feels so good once it makes sense."

"Ni...nine..."

"Just gotta go through it - no way past but through, yeah? You're being so good, baby, takin' your punishment so good."

"Ten..."

You hear something fall to the ground behind you and Johnny's hands release your wrists, reaching up to your arms so he can pull you up and tuck you beneath his chin, shushing you as you sob.

"There you go, love, you did it. Hush, now, it's ok, it's ok. You took it so well, such a strong girl for us."

"Johnny," Simon rumbles from behind you, and without further instruction he turns you a little away from his body, forces your head towards Simon. "Tell me why you were punished, sweetheart."

You can't make anything more than a noise of pain, the ache in your ass feeling like it's sunk to your very bones. Johnny makes a soothing noise in his chest, pets a hand through your hair.

"I..." you gasp a little, hiccupping. "I ran away. I'm not supposed to.. not supposed to run away."

"That's right," Simon cooed, all hostility and anger just gone from his voice. He reached for you and you couldn't help but flinch away, desperate to hide back in Johnny's neck. "No, don't hide from me, love. You took your punishment. It's over now, I'm not angry anymore."

You shake your head a little, unable to believe what he's saying. You're still locked in a haze of adrenaline, limbs shaking as they wait for more pain. There's a sigh from next to you, then strong arms wrapping around both you and Johnny. You can't hold back your little yelp, arms curling more tightly where they're wrapped around Johnny's neck.

Both of you are pulled to Simon's chest, his hand stroking from your head all the way down your back. His hand passes over your ass each stroke, and as time passes you flinch a little less each time. Your breathing is still unsteady, little whines creeping out of your throat every few gasps, but your heartrate slows and you relax little by little as there's no more pain.

"There, that's a good girl," Simon hums above you, hand not pausing it's trek down your spine. "You took my belt so well, did so good for me. Not gonna run away again, are ya?"

You shake your head with all the energy left in you, whining "No," in fear he hadn't understood your movement.

"That's right. Cause if you do, it'll be thirty with the belt."

#favorites #your ask is fantastic #asks and answers #bo writes #i did not edit this oops sorry #dlmliyh

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sonorousabyss · 1 year

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Can i maybe get a xiao or tsukasa male reader x hashiras if your doing requests or dont mind T_T

Hashiras x Male! Xiao Reader

AN: Thank you for the request Swivy! I'm not sure what format you wanted the post in or who Tsukasa is so I settled for the Xiao reader concept and some of the Hashira that I'm more familiar with!

Request: Yes Summary: Rengoku, Tengen, Sanemi, and Shinobu's thoughts on a male reader with Xiao's general attitude/Personality. Reader uses some derivative of wind breathing because Xiao and Anemo go hand-in-hand. Warnings: N/A

Kyojuro Rengoku

Does not understand M/N at all, but doesn't let it phase him either.

What do you mean you want to stay away from the other demon slayers? Karmic Dept? Such nonsense! Just come with him and you'll make friends in no time at all! Kyojuro knows just how to help!

He met M/N by pure happenstance, passing through a village shortly after nightfall. The H/C-haired man was dueling with a demon not too far from the outskirts- and doing just fine by the Hashira's standards.

M/N ripped through the sick creature with clear and concise strikes, showcasing great skill in his breathing form as he jumped around the demon he was fighting, dodging attacks and almost seeming to dance in the air as he counterattacked, leaving gashes quicker than the beast could regenerate. Then, with one swipe? It was over. The head was sent toppling to the ground, and the body along with it.

Rengoku could only beam at him and clap as he approached, congratulating M/N on a job well done. He didn't notice the apprehension in his body language at all as he set his hand on the smaller man's shoulder, a giant grin on his face.

He'd already been impressed at the show of strength from such a young-looking member of the force, but to learn that this was the 5th demon he'd had to deal with in the past few days? The sheer dedication was astounding.

M/N did not appreciate this in the slightest and was blunt in stating so. Rengoku might've toned down on the physical contact that made him uncomfortable but didn't do the same for his volume or enthusiasm, much to his subordinate's chagrin.

This kept up well into the future as M/N climbed the ranks, with the Hashira asking about his exploits and how his missions had been going.

More than a few times he ended up comparing his breathing style to Sanemi's thanks to the wind aspect, which M/N could quite frankly do without. Couldn't the kind and energetic blond just leave him alone? He didn't want his karma to rub off on him. For demon slayers, dying was an occupational hazard. He'd hate to see such a skilled swordsman perish because he got too close.

Their relationship appeared to get better once the blond discovered M/N's love for almond tofu, which he proceeded to use to bribe him into coming out to eat with him. Things slowly progressed from there, and M/N became fairly comfortable with hanging out with Rengoku. He even stopped protesting! How shocking!

Missions with him were even more interesting, considering their respective fighting styles. By the time their bond of trust had developed, Kyojuro needed only to say his name and M/N would be at his side, hand on the hilt of his blade and ready to shed some blood.

Loyalty and consistency, as it appears, seem to go a long way. Even if his loud voice does tend to hurt his ears.

Tengen Uzui

Tengen... well let's just say he also had a favorable impression of M/N thanks to his fighting techniques.

Leaping into the air and plunging down, striking his enemy with such determination and impeccable form? Dodging quickly and dashing about like he weighed nothing at all? He had to say that his fighting style wasn't half bad. Even a tad flashy.

Of course, there's no way he could ever hope to rival a god such as himself, though... if he were to become his tsugoku...

Not in a million years. Or at least, that's the attitude M/N is rolling with. If Rengoku seemed pushy before, Tengen was going to be an entirely different story.

Rengoku... well... He means well, even if things don't register immediately. The Sound Hashira though? You could tell him to put you down when he's got you over his shoulder and he wouldn't hesitate to not follow that request. He's a whole different level of deliberate stubbornness.

Of course, it's not like he doesn't have his sweet side. He can be downright delightful if you get to know him in the right circumstances. It's just that M/N was never particularly interested in getting to know said sweet side.

Every moment spent in close contact with that man he either witnessed or experienced something disturbing against his will... not that his sense of disturbing was particularly normal, anyway.

For that reason (among several others) the man, though good at killing demons, tends to get on M/N's nerves.

M/N prefers to keep things more on the business side with Tengen. He has an immense respect for the technique and skill he harnesses with his blades in the war against demons. He's an impeccable Hashira, and a reliable comrade to fight alongside. In fact, it's not just him that's impressive. His wives are as well. And- his...mice?

Don't get M/N started on the mice.

They certainly have personality, but they're just one thing on the list of things he didn't know he didn't want to see until he saw them.

How did he even get them that buff?

What is he feeding them?

Is it edible?

Is it almond tofu?

He was hesitant about the wives (and their more affectionate and kind nature) until he tasted their cooking. M/N didn't know something could rival his favorite dish until he had it. Food is also how Tengen bribes him into staying around.

M/N tries to avoid these occasions as much as physically possible, despite how much the food tempts him. Uzui's wives were good people, and he didn't want to risk tainting them with his karma.

Uzui was debatable. He wouldn't mind seeing the man get knocked around by a demon just a little bit in combat to make up for the times he tried to get M/N to embrace a flashier lifestyle. But his wives? Nah.

Sure, they're perfectly capable of self-defense and would put up a good fight against him... but still. Too precious.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

No.

Absolutely not.

Don't get me wrong, Sanemi is strong as hell and good at killing demons, and they might have similar mindsets on things in a certain respect- *cough cough* demons being horrendous creatures that must be dealt with *cough cough*- but the firey ball of anger is just too unpleasant to be around.

Quite frankly Sanemi returns the sentiment.

As cold, distant, and aloof as M/N is, Sanemi isn't looking to befriend him in the slightest, and the same goes in the other direction.

Just because they're wind users and operate in the same corps doesn't mean they need to be buddy-buddy, and they are cool keeping their distance.

M/N is more or less neutral in Sanemi's respect. He'd take almost any other Hashira over him if they were in it for the long haul in terms of missions. In public it's always going to be strictly professional. Very much a "respect is there, but no feelings are attached" type of scenario.

Until M/N climbs the ranks and get's Hashira status, Sanemi is just a capable superior and a benchmark to surpass.

I wouldn't say the respect is returned, but eh. Does it really matter?

Kocho Shinobu

She's by far one of the only Hashira he's comfortable around.

While the others on this list are generally too physically or emotionally present or looking for connection, it's just so easy to be around Kocho and keep things how he's comfortable with them being.

She's level-headed, quiet, clear, and concise, impeccable in the medical field, is well accomplished in a fairly unique style of combat in comparison to the other Hashira, and so much more.

She doesn't need size or brute force to earn others' respect, fear, or admiration. She's just uniquely her... and disturbingly intimidating, in an uncanny valley sort of way.

M/N is of the opinion that if he had to work under any of the Hashira, or at least work with any of the Hashira, she'd be the one he'd want to work under. He trusts her judgment.

Given his occupation, he's likely gotten injured and had to deal with her and those working under her plenty of times as he perfected his combat style, so he knows better than to disobey the doctor's orders.

He doesn't need to look at her face to understand her intent and genuine feelings. He just knows.

Shinobu, I feel, doesn't exactly dislike him either. She's dealt with enough "interesting" types that I get the feeling she can read him fairly well too.

Streamlined. Respect. Loyalty. And Communication.

That is their bond in a nutshell.

They both also have an amusing habit of just.. popping up out of nowhere and startling people, so I think she's gotten a laugh out of that.

Patients have now become aware of the fact that if you're at her place, you now have to watch out for more than just the doc.

I like to think of this place as M/N's Wangshu Inn equivalent. Just a place he chills out playing distant from other people, waiting for the next orders from the top.

M/N also has impeccable hearing, which makes it much easier for him to appear when called.

He's more than likely been ordered to help with rehabilitation training for patients during the times he stays around too long. He doesn't offer up many objections.

AN: If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed it! Apologies if I didn't get all the Hashira you might have wanted. I hope I did this somewhat justice?

May your day be as pleasant as the ocean's abyss is deep.

For those who are new here, I take requests. You can find my rules here.

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actualbird · 8 months

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HI!!! i wanted to ask ur opinion on how the nxx boys sneeze 😭 it was a hilarious thought because i was trying to sleep when suddenly i heard my dad make the loudest, most disruptive sneeze ever and i thought "thats so funny lol WAIT what if the tot boys sneezed".

i generally think the tot boys would be more "a-chooooo...." rather than a nuclear explosion but i need ur opinion. HOW WOULD THEY SNEEZE!!??

scream omfg i love this ask and i remember i actually talked about this with @samsspambox once forever ago so, without further ado

how the nxx boys sneeze

vyn: sneezes normal but my god he's super sensitive to allergies and, most of all, Pollen. which is hell, given that he loves to garden. but his easy workaround is just to wear a mask, and that usually saves him when hes working on his own garden. but come Pollen Season, and all the plants and trees spewing particles into the air, and hes a nose-clogged sneezy mess. his students know that when it's pollen season to not piss him off because he will be so cranky from all the sneezing and also the horrid feeling of only having one nostril unobstructed

artem: sneezes the Loud Dad Sneeze. he is the disruptive sneezer, the nuclear explosion. he is sneezing like how a lion roars deeply to establish its territory lines, except artem isnt a literal lion and does not do this on purpose. his sneezes are LOUD. the type of loud that makes people want to ask artem if hes okay afterwards cuz it's so loud it seemed like it dislodged a rib or something. it's immensely comical, given artem's usual quiet nature, that his sneezes are a force of nature. he could sneeze in his office and people all the way over in the pantry would hear it. he is, and i cannot stress this enough, so fucking embarrassed about it.

marius: the sneeze that keeps wanting to happen but Doesnt happen. you know, the cliffhanger sneeze, the sneezes that are like "ah...aaAAAHH...AAAAAAAHH—" and then the resulting "choo" doesnt happen. and this Not Happening just Keeps Happening. it's agonizing. marius will start a sneeze at 9:55am but the Conclusion Of The Sneeze only happens by 10:03am, once hes already in a meeting with the board of directors. how unsightly, he KNOWS, but the worst part really is the sheer anticipation. what marius would GIVE to have a normal sneeze.

luke: the tiniest kitten sneeze on the planet, and always 6 times consecutively in a row MINIMUM. back during the NSB Days(TM), the fearsome Agent Raven arrived at the training class he handles with a slight cold, saying he'll just monitor and teach and give pointers while socially distanced. the trainees were so scared cuz "wow, hes still coming in even when hes sick, how TERRIFYINGLY DEDICATED, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVEN." and then luke steps back and grabs a piece of tissue, obviously rearing for a sneeze, and the trainees thought "oh i bet his sneeze is the Loud Disruptive one, just like his own scary fighting skills, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVE—" and then

it's the smallest, cutest sneeze. one after the other. and another. and another. it was like hearing a squeaky dog toy get squeezed several times vigorously. it was like how you'd assume a pixie sneezes. it was like the sound sprinkles and pink bubbles would make if those could sneeze.

once luke is done with his consecutive sneezes (that, for the life of him, he could not stop) he promptly death-glares at the trainees and they all agree to Never Bring It Up.

but the consecutive kitten sneezes still follow luke through his life and all the way up to, yep, the nxx team being able to witness it

mc: awww, it's been so long since ive seen your cute sneeze!!

luke, nose clogged: it's [sneeze] not cute! [sneeze]

marius: it's so cute, i think my heart is melting

luke: shut [sneeze] up!

marius: AAAWWW, is the big bad agent having some twouble? >:3

luke: dont you f[sneeze]ucking patronize [sneeze] me!

mc: do you need more tissue?

luke: PLE[sneeze]ASE

#tears of themis #tears of themis headcanon #vyn richter #artem wing #marius von hagen #luke pearce #im a consecutive sneezer but not tiny kitten sneezes just normal consecutive #asks #anon

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he-calls-me-kitten · 2 years

Text

Caught Wet-Handed (11)

Power bottom! MC x Obey me characters

Taglist: @itsmeninerz @my-perfect-machine

NSFW. Minor babies dni please.

Intro + Brothers

Diavolo

"MC...you surely don't mean-" Diavolo's words were cut off as you locked the heavy doors behind you and took off your tie in one swift motion.

This was hardly the reaction he expected from you. Watching a noble prince slack off his duties and indulging himself with unholy thoughts about his human guest - how could you possibly look past that?

"I absolutely mean it, your majesty." You said playfully, slowly undoing the buttons on your uniform, exposing yourself bit by bit.

He sat there in shock at first. Blinking and shaking his head like, trying to check if he was in a dream.

But when you proposed yourself over on his desk, your legs dangling past his erection, he realised. Tonight would be his unbecoming.

"Just call me Diavolo, MC." He ventured to put a hand on your knee, staring at you, letting you register the warmth of his touch.

"But you're a prince. I can't possibly do that, Lord Diavolo. Even though I do allow myself that luxury when I find myself dreaming about you. No no no, I simply can't."

You playfully pretended to be distressed as you gently guided his hand to your thigh.

"Then think of it..." He squeezed your thigh, and suddenly forced your legs apart. "...as a direct order."

He moved forward, bending a little to press cautious kisses on the inside of your thighs.

"Oh? And what if I...disobey?" You smirked and closed your legs on him. His head completely suffocated with your thighs.

He mumbled something you couldn't hear, so you gave him some space to speak. "Ah!" You yelped. His teeth left imprints on your supple skin.

"Then you'll be treated rather roughly, MC." It was a final warning. You knew not to test his limits on the first night. His sheer size was baffling enough.

"Now you will say it. You will say my name, over and over, everytime I thrust into you. Understood?" He smiled, baring his fangs.

"Yes, Diavolo." That was the first of the many times you said it that night.

Simeon

"M-MC? You're awake?!" Simeon struggled to cover himself up in time. All the darkness in the room couldn't cover up his moans or the glistening sweat on his shoulders.

He already checked on you. He was so sure you were already asleep and that Solomon and Like were gone elsewhere. Else he wouldn't dare do this with you in the house.

He expected a million questions he couldn't answer. Why was he doing this? Why did call your name specifically?

How was he supposed to tell you he's been catching glimpses of you in compromising positions. He walked in on you changing once, another time you got wet in the rain with a thin white shirt and during a game of twister with the brothers, his nose was practically buried in your chest.

How was he supposed to explain this buildup to you without sounding like an absolute-

But you ou offered to assist him and he turned scarlet. His erection trembled and twitched under the thin sheets.

"Dont worry. I have no intention of corrupting an angel with my tainted hands. I won't touch you."

You said casually climbing into his bed and shifting towards him. And surely enough that flimsy nightwear did not do a whole lot to hide your skin.

"But what if I want you to?" His voice were deeper, his blue eyes blending in with the dark shadows in the room. His hand gently inched towards you, hovering over your waist.

"Hmm then I just won't touch you past this point. That's fair, right?" You smirked, running a finger on his skin, just above his waistband.

He took a sharp inhale and grabbed you, pulling you forward. "I want you.. closer...do you mind?"

You pressed a kiss on his neck, lightly nipping it. "You can do whatever you like, Simeon. I won't mind any of it."

The next thing you know his hands were pulling down your sleeves, completely exposing your bare chest to him.

You gasped as his tongue rolled over a sensitive nipple, his other hand running up and down your back, exploring every inch of you.

After a while he got you on top of him, your damp spot right over his erection. "I..I can't go all the way with you, but please allow me this."

He raised his hips bucking into you, and you pressed down harder. "MC...more, more...come here, please."

He pulled you downwards, slipping his tongue inside your parted lips as he kept grinding on you like a dog in heat.

Solomon

Even in a state like this, Solomon had his wits about him. He did turn away with reddened cheeks at first, making a silly joke.

"My, my, MC. I didn't know it was customary to not knock on doors down here?"

"Well if you're allowed to enter my room through the windows, this is hardly too much to ask for." You smirked.

That finally caught him offguard. Of all the reactions he expected this...wasn't one of them. The way you were inching closer to him, swaying your hips deliberately. Like you wanted it ...like you wanted him too.

And once you offered to help whatever little shame he had left the room. He patted his desk and held out his hand. You could already see what he had in mind.

"Are you going to bend me over this while you fuck me?" You said, deliberately brushing your hips against him before you took your place.

His fingers itched to grab you and pin down right there. Instead he stared down at you intensely waiting for the right moment.

"Sure. If you'll be a good little apprentice." He was enjoying this immensely. How many times had he imagined this scenario?

What he would say, how your bare skin would feel on his, exactly how he would touch you and forever have a memory of defiling you in his workspace, where he spends most of his nights.

"I'll try my best. What do you want me to do now?" You smiled cheekily, staring at his reflection in the jewels scattered around his desk.

"Don't make a sound." Solomon said, his eyes positively menancing. "Simeon and Luke are home today. And Lucifer is visiting too. Sorry MC, I'm too tired to cast a silencing spell on the room."

"That's too easy. I don't scream unless someone makes me." You tilted your head to the side. "So go on, do your worst."

"As you wish, MC." He said before biting down on the side of your neck, sliding your top off. You yelped in suprise and he slipped his fingers in your open mouth. "This is much better isn't it? Let's keep going like this."

You moaned into his fingers again, as he thrust himself inside you rough and fast. All just to see how long you could hold in your screams like this.

Barbatos

"I apologise MC, you weren't meant to see me in that state." He mentally facepalms himself. He's gotten more careless now that most of his thoughts revolved around you.

What was he thinking doing it in the storeroom? Almost as if he wanted you to find out, to kake a lewd face, bite their lip and offer to help out ...wait you're actually doing it?

"I thought you'd prefer doing these things in that rumoured dungeon of yours." You smiled as you sat on his thigh. He inhaled sharply.

"So you've heard about the dungeon?" Barbatos smiled his customary smile, but his hands gripped you in place.

"Indeed. I'd like to visit it if it's real." You lean in closer and peck his lips just to tease him. His heart is pumping faster, you can see his knuckles turning white.

"Then by all means." In one smooth motions he's carrying you down a long winding staircase, princess style. Your head throbs with anticipation.

And within minutes, your hands are tied above your head, a blindfold across your eyes. You're drenched in darkness, but hyper aware of his touch.

He touches you like a ghost, soft, barely there, leaving goosebumps across your skin. And then you learn why he shares Mammon's sin of greed. "I hope this is as pleasurable for you...as it is for me."

You are already panting and nodding while he's merely stripped you off, planting bites and kisses as he wished. The back of his fingers grazes your lips, slides down your chest and belly and stops at your core.

"You seem ready, MC." You can't see it but you know he's sucking your wetness off his fingers. And that he wants more.

"Yes, yes please." You're a drooling mess from his techniques but you still try to stay sane. You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him closer. "I'm ready."

You felt his tip bulging, drops of precum on your thighs. He was impatiently waiting for this for far too long. One swift thrust and he has to kiss you to muffle your moans. This was the best night of his life.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me Barbatos

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zortic · 6 months

Text

more sad OL:B&A stuff, more specifically for the transgender audience

once again ignoring any of the romantic aspects.

tw for a bit of transphobia!

as a transgender man, my coming out was ruined completely. im sure alot of people can also relate to that.

infact it went so horribly that i forced myself back into the closet for a long time. i tried out many different gender identitys. my thought process was that ‘anything other than a man’ would be good enough for my family. which was not the case.

to cut a long story short, i couldnt keep up that façade, and my family eventually came through for me. though, the prior transphobia i received was damaging enough to stay with me even now.

olba is relevant because i found the game at one of my lowest points. i was blown away by how accepting the game was off the bat. there were sets of pronouns to pick, and promises to be able to change them as your character grew older, as they grew into themselves. your appearance had nothing to do with your gender identity, there was no judgement if your character revealed their gender identity to anyone. even if that character was someone who didnt like you.

the thing that got me the most was how supportive your moms are described to be. maybe you’d think thats an obvious if they are two women married to eachother, but ive met my fair share of people who will accept homosexuality and not transgender people.

anyways, in step 2 it can be mentioned how you are on some sort of hormone already, and in step 3 it can be mentioned that your moms payed for your top surgery. never has a line of text made me cry as hard as i did when i read that. it was so emotionally overwhelming.

the sheer amount of acceptance in that game is STILL so mind blowing to me. you dont find games like that like ever. as a 14 year old, it was the most acceptance i had ever gotten in my life. if i had the chance to speak to anyone from GB patch, i would give them my thanks until i physically couldnt speak anymore.

what im getting across to here is that games like this can really help a person. especially young people who are just now shaping their identity. knowing theres acceptance out there can really help ones mental health. even if it is just through a video game.

i am being quite the chatterbox so im ending this here. thanks for reading!

#our life #our life beginnings and always #cove holden #olnf oc #olnf qiu #olnf tamarack #baxter ward #our life now and forever #olba mc #derek suarez #transgender #ftm

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ruinaimagines · 1 year

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I love you and I am throwing money at you mentally (drop that link if I can do it genuinely)

Can you write Dante x Reader where they're both healers but the reader is more "if you get out of bed after spraining your ankle I am wrestling you to the ground" (to compliment Dante's "PLEASE DONT HURT YOURSELF" vibes)

First of all, I love this dynamic, and second I am kicking my feet at this THANK YOU SO MUCH! My goodness, I don’t have anything special set up because I was unaware of the potential support I’d get, but if you are interested I do have an ol’ cashapp with the name $Aeroroot or VIA paypal! https://paypal.me/aeroroot?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US . I want to specify it is totally optional as I get a lot of joy solely from your enjoyment alone, but if you want to go the extra mile then I thank you especially!

Dante x Healer Reader Headcanons:

I love Dante but lord do they need this extra help. Both recovering memories from amnesia with no clue on how they got here, in charge of a group of unruly sinners who get killed practically every single mission, and going through excruciating pain every time they have to bring them back. Not pleasant!

Honestly a bit of a pushover and I say that with love. Do I blame them? No, but sometimes someone else needs to help out a little around here. And that someone happens to be you, which Dante is very grateful for, if not a little… Concerned.

You seem to be the only one aside from Sinclair maybe who pays attention to the strain that bringing people back puts on them, whenever anyone approaches them for trivial injuries you snag them into your grasp and usher them to sit down.

They look up to you a bit for your strong sense of self, and lack of fear when it comes to dragging people back into their seats no matter the complaints so you can patch them up. Some are easier and more patient than others, some are a little more rowdy (cough Heathcliff cough Ryoshu cough). Still, you seem to have no fear putting someone into a headlock so you can bandage them even if your main skill isn’t meant to be combat.

Dante has witnessed you firsthand tackle sinners to the floor who were about to be staggered with very little sense of self preservation. Despite being so determined that the people around you are in good shape, it doesn’t seem to extend to you in your mind.

Will insist that you need to be just as aware of your own quality as you do anyone else’s. Surprisingly not that afraid of scolding you, probably because they know you won’t retaliate. It’s all out of care too.

As stubborn as you are, you are very appreciated by your colleagues, even ones like Heathcliff who may complain but ultimately are thankful. You have a sense of authority without even intending to, many follow your advice because they know that you’ll just haul them back to bed.

As for your and Dante’s relationship, I can see them being initially intimidated but glad for your assistance. You even check in on them from time to time, claiming that they are as important of a patient as anyone else. They’re a bit confused because they don’t directly participate in fighting, but you reason that the pain they feel from rewinding time counts as enough of a reason to look out for them.

They do make the mental note to just comply with you if ever they get injured themselves. Your sheer will to keep people in best condition, including the force you are willing to apply to do so, is something they do not want to reckon with.

I imagine that if they did get injured and attempted to leave, likely with the reasoning of ‘the sinners need me to bring them back’, a single glare from you would shut them up and sit them down. You tell them that they can resurrect them later, right now they are not budging.

Despite not really having a face to make expressions with you have learned to understand how they feel from body movement alone. When other sinners are pestering them to heal them back up, and you visibly see the hesitance, then you will step in.

You don’t really see Dante as your manager (sorry bud lot.

Dante doesn’t actually know the first thing about healing. They just rewind back time and through some miasma of events everyone is back in one piece. Watching you get to work yourself is so interesting because you actually know what you’re doing. They will stare over at you to try and figure out what is going on and take little notes, like you’re teaching them.

Upon your repeatedly voiced concerns, your colleagues have learned to stop relying on Dante to fix the smallest of wounds, most of them at least. Your manager appreciates this greatly as it gives them a breather from the repeated experience.

When neither of you are busy and some questions have been brought about, Dante will come to you to ask them. It’s easy to forget that they remember almost nothing about the city or who they are, but they find that you seem to be willing to answer even the most minute of inquiries.

You are a lifesaver both literally and figuratively and they appreciate that you take some weight off their shoulders. That said, you also give them constant heart attacks by the fact you are not afraid to plunge into extreme danger to drag someone else out. Are you two exploring a building and you hear someone familiar yelling outside? You will do whatever you can to get to them quickly even if that means jumping out a two story window. It’s like a summoning call for you.

Dante is very adamant on restoring you even if you tell them not to. They see it as the least they can do when you’re so willing to sacrifice yourself not only for the sinners, but them. Your words to stop letting people walk all over them come back to bite you, because they will not take no for an answer.

Generally more comfortable in coming to you for advice considering the trust that you have gained from them. They quite literally have been thrusted into a position they know almost nothing about, and chances are if they don’t learn fast then things are about to go downhill real fast. You yourself aren’t a manager – you’re a medic, but your decisive nature is something they respect even if you can throw yourself impulsively into situations to save another.

Considering how you put others before yourself, you likely are on the more empathetic or compassionate side too, even if it may not show in the same way that Dante’s does. Obtaining the Golden Boughs is a rigorous and emotional process for every sinner, and Dante doesn’t always know what to do. There isn’t ever one clear answer, but they may come to you for how they should approach it.

The confusing things going on in their own head never really got to be talked about until it came to you. Not always are they looking for a fix, because a lot of the time there isn’t one, but just someone to rely on.

Dante is adorable, and I think that a large reason why you care deeply for them is because of how they are like a fresh canvas, free from the city’s imposed expectations. They’re just some honest, worried person who has yet to become shut off to being vulnerable like so many have. It’s refreshing, and yes most of that is caused from memory loss, who they were beforehand is a complete mystery, but that doesn’t change who they are in the moment.

Dante likes you too because there’s a sense of special camaraderie between you two. Whether it’s because you both deal with the aftermath of battles together, or because they find you both genuine and look up to you, they often stick by your side. You both stay exhausted and overworked, but it’s not too bad because hey, you’re in it together.

#limbus company #limbus company dante #limbus company x reader #limbus company headcanons #limbus company hcs #dante #dante x reader #limbus company dante x reader #dante headcanons #dante hcs #headcanons #hcs #x reader #project moon

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dunmeshi-darlings · 9 days

Note

this might be a really like niche thing if you are doing requests of course but what about a tiger beastman reader with marcille it can be sfw or nsfw either or its all good!

Nobody knew you were a beastkin at first, it was something you held in secret. After all, Beastmen are viewed in not the most pleasant of lights. When the party had seen your tiger tail they had assumed you were a beastkin like izutsumi, which you quickly said was the case. You weren't ready to tell them the truth yet, yes they treated izutsumi perfectly fine it was just...you were scared, beast man are viewed as either criminals that were punished or dangerous people that did this to themselves. you were planning on telling them just...just when you thought the time was right.

However that decision was made for you one day, The group had been travelling and had been ambushed by a particularly fierce monster. You all were fighting it as best you could but you watched it knock laios aside and charge Marcille. You knew you had to do something, you couldnt let her die...you couldnt let her get hurt. she had been so kind to you since you joined, always willing to help when you needed it. Talking to you about magic and how she could tell you had potential with magic she could feel it (she could sense the beastman magic but didnt realize it). You couldnt let anything happen to her.

You sprinted at the charging monster as you began to take your form, Bones shifting and popping into place, skin stretching and pulsing as it shifted, Your jaw extending as your teeth grew and pushed forward into fangs, nails extending into long sharp claws. Everyone's eyes were on the monster so nobody saw you at first, too focused on the monster that was about to attack marcille. However their attention was immediately drawn when a deep guttural roar rang out through the dungeon as a large figure slammed into the side of the monster which was only a mere few feet from marcille. The monster and this new being thrown to the other side of the dungeons room from the sheer force of this mystery attackers launch.

The fight may have only lasted a short moment, but that moment was a bloody and visceral one. Swinging claws and gnashing teeth, Blood, fur, scales, and viscera splattered in every direction around this violent brawl. Eventually the mysterious figure flipped the monster onto its back and sank its massive fangs into the monsters throat, it let out gurgling hisses as it tried to fight back, but the figure bit down harder and a muffled cracking was heard. The monster continued to fight even though the party could see it was slowing down its movements, however the figure gave on hard yank of its head and a loud snapping was heard and the monster fell limp in this beings jaws. It shook its head a few more times, smaller cracking noises resounded as it made sure its target was killed before it slowly let go of its throat and stood up, staring at the party who looked on in shock.

Standing before the rest of Laios party, Its muzzle dripping blood and scraps of flesh stood a massive humanoid tiger. Its Muscles rippling under its dense orange fur, twitching every few seconds, Like springs ready to launch this behemoth of claws and fur at its next target. But the being simply wiped the blood off its mouth as it began to speak. "i....im sorry...i wanted to tell you all...i promise i did..i just...i didnt know when it would be right." You spoke, slowly shifting back into your normal form as you prepared yourself for the worst. you expected them to berate you and be upset that you hid this from them and say they dont want you around. But it was izutsumi who spoke up first. "i knew you smelled like a cat." Catching you and everyone off guard as they couldnt help but chuckled.

Laios was perhaps the most excited of them all, He had stars in his eyes as he asked you question after question about your tiger form, asking how you got it and what its like. Chilchuck simply shrugged and said he didnt blame you for not talking about it, that it was a private matter and how he isnt the most forthcoming person either. Senshi scratched his chin, making comments about needing to adjust your portions of food since you have a much bulkier frame you need to keep fed hidden away. However it was marcilles reaction that had you the most curious, she had a blush on her face as she thanked you for saving her and she looked almost...nervous?

You tell her that its ok, that you couldnt just sit by and let her get hurt or worse. And that even if you got kicked out of the party, you had to make sure she was ok. This caused the elf to blush more, the tips of her pointy ears a crimson hue as they wiggled, her awkwardly giggling and saying thanks again. Of course she quickly shouted about your injuries, Sure your thick fur protected from alot of the attacks but some of them definitely got through and it was only now you were starting to feel the stings of various gouges and bite marks.

Marcille began tending to your wounds, using her magic to heal your wounds and make sure you were ok. Normally her healing magic, while fast, hurts almost as much as the wounds. But she was being particularly gentle this time, using the magic slowly and it felt almost like healing magic from the gnome school of magic. You asked her why she was doing it this way and another blush crossed her face, she smiled softly "well...i dont want to see you hurt either..so im taking my time with this and making sure it doesnt hurt to much...i just....ive been thinking about you lately, and especially after what you did earlier...risking yourself and exposing your identity like that to protect me...you mean alot to me." She says taking one of her hands and placing it softly onto your cheek, using her magic to heal a cut that had crossed your cheek all the way back to your ear. You felt the wound heal quickly as it was a shallow cut...but she didnt move her hand, it sat there for awhile. It felt like she didnt want to move her hand away, like she was treasuring this moment. And so you took a breath and put your hand over hers, tilting your head into her hand. Commenting how she means alot to you as well. The two of you staring lovingly into each others eyes for a moment before chilchucks voice quickly makes you two separate.

As night fell you began to settle in, making your cot as you got ready for sleep. However you stopped when marcille walked up with her pillow. "hey, do you mind if i sleep with you tonight?" she asked softly, a grin across her face as you grinned back and motioned for her to nestle in as she did so. You wrapped your arms around the elf woman and pulled her into a soft hug, she hummed softly and happily in your arms as you two lay together. "you know how chilchuck feels about in party relationships." you say jokingly causing the elf woman to roll her eyes. "oh that grump can deal with it, besides. Ill just say im sleeping here to make sure your wounds have healed properly thats all." She says with a wink, the two of you smiling as you nestled in for the night. Perhaps you could get used to this whole, being open and honest thing.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #marcille #marcille donato #marcille x reader #tw blood #tw body horror

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