#i feel like it's the former and i can back it up to some extent but i am not the most unbiased source when it comes to edgar. oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leonstoenailunderhisbed · 1 month

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I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)

Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.

More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)

Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).

ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.

RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.

In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.

When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.

Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.

I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)

Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):

ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)

Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?

Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.

Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.

DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #di leon #re2 leon #re4 leon #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy angst #resident evil 4 #re4r leon #re2r leon #resident evil angst #re4 remake #re2 remake

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retrobutterflies · 2 years

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Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n

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staypuffy · 9 months

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Okay, so I know prefacing something with "hear me out" virtually guarantees that not one motherfucker will, but, heart me out...

Jim was default Gabriel. He was Gabriel without all the corruption and pressure and complacency he had from being the Supreme Archangel of Heaven for so many years. When he takes away all his own memories, the things that led to this corrupt person we know from season 1, we're left with the basic blueprint of his personality and that's this: just a nice guy. He was helpful, apologetic, thoughtful, kind and even self-sacrificing to an extent (when he offered himself up to Shax's legion to save everyone.) We can assume then, that this is what Gabriel was like before The Fall.

We see some of Jim, or the old Gabriel, start to come back out during his interactions with Beelzebub, for example, miracling the jukebox because he remembers Beelzebub likes the song. Would the Gabriel who sentenced Aziraphale to burn and told him to "shut his stupid mouth and die already" think to do something like that?

No, because love brought him back to himself.

When he's around Beelzebub, the person he loves, we start to see more of Jim, Gabriel's softer side. Eventually, it is this love for Beelzebub which causes a complete reversion back to his old self. As you can see in Gabriel's final scene, he is very pointedly acting much more like the Jim character we became acquainted with over season 2 than the vindictive, wrathful bureaucratic Gabriel from season 1.

Now that Aziraphale has assumed Gabriel's old position, there is a chance the very same thing could happen to him. That the monotony, the responsibility, the corruption of running Heaven, of having everyone look to him for the answers, could do the very same thing to him that it did to Gabriel. Since Jim and Aziraphale's characters are actually quite close to one another (soft, somewhat childlike and innocent, geuinely kindhearted and good) there is a precedent.

(I think Crowley might suspect all this and it's part of the reason why he's so suspicious of and resentful of Heaven for calling Aziraphale back; because he's too loyal for his own good and can't accept that there's something fundamentally wrong with Heaven as an institution, but that's an entirely different post).

When Aziraphale goes back, Crowley knows this is what he's risking. That he's not only leaving Crowley behind, but that he's risking completely changing who he is because of what that position will do to him. It's why he tries so fucking hard to get him to stay. It's why he kisses him. He does everything he can think of to keep Aziraphale there, he puts everything he has on the line to show Aziraphale how he feels in the hopes that he’ll stay so Heaven won’t corrupt him.

But Aziraphale goes anyways.

IN WHICH CASE...

If Aziraphale does let the position change him, like it did Gabriel, the only way to bring him back from being a hard-bitten, cruel and ruthless husk of his former self would be with Crowley's help (vis a vis Beelzebub, a demon, doing it for Gabriel, an angel). And Crowley, no matter how damaged and heartbroken and traumatized, would do it.

It's hard to imagine Aziraphale becoming this way, but could you imagine Jim in a bedsheet toga with a feather duster sentencing someone to death? Me either.

Is it unlikely? Yes. Will it happen? Probably not. Do I like asking myself rhetorical questions to reinforce my point? Also, yes.

That has been my keynote speech, thank you for hearing me out.

#good omens #good omens 2 #gomens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #neil gaiman #michael sheen #david tennant #crowley #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 1 year

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Hey sorry friend! Here, i will request it separately for you.

Can you make headcanons for taking care of dazai after the prison arc? I feel really really bad for him and i just want to let him sleep and dote on him for weeks.

P.s. he deserves warm food and head rubs and for people to stop talking shit about him. 😭

Reunion with blood and tears

Headcanon: Dazai is reunited with his lover after his escape Dazai x Fem! Reader Masterlist Tysm anon for the request! Hope this doesn't disappoint your heart :)

Dazai Osamu was laughing. That's the first thing he does escaping the prison.

You looked bloody and beaten up badly but nevertheless you came to pick him up (I mean duh, he is the Osamu transferring information through his heartbeat Dazai)

"Osamu, please, I can't even think to loss you again" that's the first thing you would say to him as you hug him tightly, sobbing .

You know this man, despite having the happy shell, even he breaks down crying and in that embrace none of you wanted to separate.

You stared at the exit all covered in blood and wounds but you couldn't care less. Your lover was sent to the prison long ago for the past crimes he did. He was the former port mafia executive, you knew sooner or later he had to pay his deed, but this was a ruthless act.

And in the moment time didn't exist for you as you stared at you lover, so beaten up and broken almost limping to an extent and you couldn't even help him by taking his pain away. All you could do was hug and embrace him in your arms and you wept. Sooner then expected, for the second time in his life, Osamu Dazai cried, because he was relieved to go back somewhere who he could call home.

Now Now, that was one moment you had. Because of this mess created by DOA, the best service you could provide a runaway criminal was your own secret base like home.

The only supply you could give that moment was giving him food and bandages, as he proceeds to bath. He was limping badly and you told him that you could least have the made-up support for him but he brushed of saying it wasn't a big deal.

You then forcefully make him seated on the bed considering his physique screamed broken bones which you couldn't heal.

Dazai was silent all the time, he wasn't eating nor talking and seemed to lost his touch, simply showing his true nature.

You know this was the real Osamu Dazai, the one without the barrier of fake happiness. He already had bags under his eyes as if he never slept, and how fragile and thin he had gotten over the past few months.

"Dazai? Osamu, Darling please eat something, i made you some crab soup you always liked" You would plead as he just stare as you.

"I don't wish to eat right now"

And that was the moment that broke your heart. You know it would be to much for him to intake such a heavy meal so you simply came back with some fruits, cut in bits and you proceed to take a seat next to him and open his mouth.

"I love you babes but if you cant eat, i will have to forcefully make you eat, I don't want anyone to die at me"

You swear you could hear him saying 'kinky', before you proceed to fed him food.

"Good boy Osamu, you finished your food" You said joyfully giving him a head pat as you proceed to keep the dishes in the kitchen.

Head pats, rubs and hugs.... that's what he needs

He wouldn't open up to you fully and you respected his decision.

You finished up everything as you re-bandaged his wounds later at night, which seemed to fallen quiet early today.

Dazai seemed to have gained his energy, and willingly ate up all the crab soup you made.

Currently you were in the bed with him, hugging him so closely not wanting to lose him again. This war was to much. You didn't wanted anyone to die, especially you two but it was your duty, to save people's future even if it meant to destroy your own.

"Hey Osamu, promise me you wouldn't pull any of this stunt again understand? I already lost much and I don't want you loss anyone more" You said as you bury your face lightly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat which could tell wonders.

Dazai pulled you closed, his arms around you and he secures the position, his head above your head, for the first time after his escape he spoke, "Y/N I love you and I promise I wouldn't change it for the world, I wouldn't leave you, I promise"

You looked up to see him sighing with his breathe, as he slowly closes his eyes, letting the darkness wash over him yet again, but this time within the comfort of his lover by his side and it was a sight you would never change it for the world.

'I love you Osamu Dazai' you whisper as you watch him fall asleep, least with a small hinted smile on his face.

Loosing yourself a little, you kissed him on his forehead and then lightly on his lips before embracing him yet again under the covers of your bed with your lover beside you, as you listen to his heartbeat, and you swore you could decode his heartbeat saying I love you too.

Hope this satisfy all those dazai kinnies including anon and me, cus Dazai deserves much more then all this. honestly idk if this directed mainly towards the hc! But dazai fluff is all we need.

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rejectedfables · 1 year

Text

Lan Xichen is clearly shaken by what WWX and LWJ tell him about NMJ’s death after the discussion conference. He has doubts, he is concerned, and in response to this he decides to USE THE EVIL SPIRIT AFFECTING MUSIC ON HIMSELF to SEE IF IT HARMS HIM.

(A normal and hinged thing to do)

(it harmed him)

If we use Nie Mingjue’s behavior as a metric for what this selection from the Collection of Spirit Turmoil does to a person, we can reasonably assume it causes or exacerbates at least SOME of the following:

Disrupts spiritual energy such that a person progresses towards qi deviation

Emotional instability

Violent outbursts

Prone to suspicion or paranoia

Nie Mingjue is already prone to literally all of these things, but they ARE also the things the seem notably exacerbated at the end of his life. Whether it was The Song itself or merely the proximity to qi deviation which caused/exacerbated these things, we cannot be sure, but as the latter is caused by the former, there is no functional difference.

In Guanyin Temple, very shortly after Lan Xichen would have used the song on himself, he is notably distressed, his faith in JGY is further shaken, and he’s manipulated by Huaisang into killing Jin Guangyao-- something that is both understandable in context AND clearly horrifies him for the rest of his life.

Given the circumstances (learning what he’s just learned about JGY’s involvement in NMJ’s death, and then learning everything else he does during this scene), he was going to be upset with Jin Guangyao regardless. He was going to have questions, he was going to have doubts. But I do think it’s WORTH REMEMBERING that this man had JUST used the same song ON HIMSELF that Jin Guangyao used to speed up/cause Nie Mingjue’s qi deviation and death. It provides additional context for his reactions, both within the scene and after it.

Lan Xichen has spent over a decade on the same page with Jin Guangyao about JGY’s motivations, goals, and often even the unfortunate but necessary methods he needed to use to achieve said goals. LXC is not NMJ; he absolutely understood that JGY going undercover during Sunshot involved killing some of their own people, and he understands that that was unfortunate but necessary. He understood JGY’s situation with his father, understood that JGY was not in a position to do anything about JGS’s decisions wrt Xue Yang, supported JGY through everything it took to make the watchtowers a reality. NMJ told LXC about JGY killing his superior officer, and LXC went “I’m sure he had a good reason” and just MOVED ON. He’s not under the impression that JGY has never hurt anyone, broken the rules, or committed a crime-- he just does not care, because he truly believes that JGY is a smart, capable, and well intentioned person and therefore those are things to be understood and compassionate about, rather than condemn and scorn him for. He may not have been aware of the extent of JGY’s crimes, but he didn’t feel like he NEEDED to be. He knew JGY, and that was enough.

Under normal circumstances, Lan Xichen’s wish when finding out something that upsets him (especially with regards to his friends), is clearly to talk about it. The greatest example is when Nie Mingjue loudly and repeatedly threatened Jin Guangyao’s life-- Lan Xichen wanted to talk it out. FOREVER, if need be. This is a man who understands that mitigating circumstances exist (especially when it comes to JGY) but solves problems with people he KNOWS with words.

So he finds out JGY killed NMJ, and his response is horror. And his solution to that horror is that he wants answers. He wants to talk about it. Why didn’t you tell me? If you felt you were backed into a corner, why didn’t you tell me that either?? Why didn’t you come to me??? TALK to me???? It could have all been delayed even longer solved if only--!!!

And yet, despite more than a decade of defending JGY in the face of an entire society blaming JGY for everything they could, in Guanyin Temple he’s swept up in the mood of the scene and condemns JGY with the rest. He knows JGY better than anyone else, but is made to doubt this. He’s left wondering if he ever knew the man at all, simply because he’s shown a new side of him.

And he responds to that feeling with violence.

He lives in a world and holds a position in said world that necessitates and normalizes violence, but he himself is not prone to it, especially with loved ones. Yet he doesn’t threaten to tie JGY up, magically mute him, have him tried for his crimes, nor does he SIMPLY react instinctively in perceived self defense-- it’s notable that he threatens death. While the circumstances are different, he does the same thing Nie Mingjue did (threaten JGY’s life), and I don’t think it’s irrelevant that he must be not entirely himself to get to that point.

In the Untamed, during the Guanyin Temple scene, he even slaps Jin Guangyao. And while I believe this is not canon to the book, I don’t personally think it’s out of character BECAUSE I think it’s a further nod to there being something wrong with him in this scene.

And his actions in that temple is, again, something he struggles to grapple with and regrets for, as far as we know, the REST OF HIS LIFE.

Right until the last moment, Guanyin Temple is a scene in which Lan Xichen is made to suspect that he’s never known Jin Guangyao at all, and Jin Guangyao is made to believe that he’s never mattered to Lan Xichen like Lan Xichen does to him. And in the very VERY end, when Lan Xichen chooses to die with him and Jin Guangyao doesn’t let him, they’re both shown that that doubt was unfounded. Jin Guangyao may be many things Lan Xichen was never willing or permitted to see, but he is also, fundamentally, everything Lan Xichen has known him to be.

And Lan Xichen never, ever, wanted to harm Jin Guangyao

#mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #mdzs #Mdzs meta #the untamed #cql #lan xichen #jin guangyao #somebody suggested I write about the Lan Brothers and I didn't have any meta about them BOTH brewing in my brain but I sure had this #so here you are #xiyao #lan huan #jgy #lxc

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maple-the-awesome · 11 months

Text

When Another Finds Out About His Crush Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, Legend x GN Reader

Overview: What happens when someone else in the Chain finds out about his feelings towards you?

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

How is it that today has been so peaceful? Seriously, when was the last time the group got a chance to breathe for a second, let alone actually take a moment to enjoy themselves like normal Hylians who don't have to constantly deal with the weight of the world upon their shoulders?

Maybe it's because of the last battle which left most of them pretty battered - too battered to dive head first back into another hoard of monsters right away. Perhaps the Old Man finally got tired of their constant whining and bickering which had grown in volume over the course of the last few days, leading him to pacify them with a quick break. It's probably a combination of those two things, but whatever the true reasoning for this blessing, Four plans to enjoy it - at least he's trying his best to.

He won't complain. It's nice getting to sit here in the sun, enjoying its warm beams that pair sweetly with the cool breeze that carries itself up from the spring where the majority of his traveling partners currently splash around, their joyful cheers making all sound right with the world. Of course, this scene of an early summer would be so much better if not broken every few seconds by Four's sneezing.

His nose is probably red and eyes possibly a bit puffy, but he tries not to care. He's too focused - too distracted with the many thoughts running through his head to begin fussing over some mild allergies.

'Loop over that...Now tie here...'

'Maybe we should've chosen different flowers -'

'- No. We can't admit defeat to a stupid flower. We're seeing this through, damn it!'

'I wasn't suggesting that we give up. Only that we reevaluate our clearly flawed plan. This field is filled with flowers. We can take our pick.'

'Ooo, I like the poppies over there! Let's use those!'

'No! Poppies aren't good enough. Must I remind you why we're using daisies in the first place?!'

Four sighs heavily, his hands collapsing to his lap. The tangled flowers resting in his touch are a pathetic excuse for a 'craft'. If anything, they look no different from flowers that have been tugged from the ground then tossed around in a bag for a few shakes. It's rather shameful considering how long the minish took to teach him the careful art of weaving flower stems together. Are some watching him now, shaking their heads in confusion as to how someone can be struggling to this extent? Of course, it would be easier if he switched to practically any flower other than daisies, but he's committed to seeing this through as is, no changes.

Four's harsh thoughts only break away temporarily when noticing the wolf that saunters through the meadow towards him, likely chased away from the cold shadows that have begun casting over his former resting place closer to the spring. Over here in the sun it’s much warmer, so there’s no surprise when the wolf invites himself to sit next to Four, giving a curious look to the flowers on his lap that asks the question without words being needed.

"I'm trying to make a crown," Four answers, lifting the string of stems up with one finger to let the wolf get a closer look which he does by leaning forward and taking a sniff. To him, the craft is impressive, looking far more detailed and put together compared to the flower crowns he's personally made with the children of his village, although it's clear that the Smith is having trouble accepting his own talent by the way he leans his cheek against the palm of his hand with a huff.

"Normally I can make them pretty quickly with fewer mistakes or tears in the stems and petals, but today I just can't get it right. No matter how many times I attempt one, it never looks good enough," Four explains further, his words drawing Wolfie's eyes to the several drafted flower crowns abandoned off to the hero's side. Then suddenly, the wolf's attention is drawn back to Four with a start when he sneezes loudly.

Sniffing, he gives the slightly startled animal a pitiful look, "...Oh, and it doesn't help that I'm allergic to daisies..."

Wolfie tilts his head to the patch of poppies growing no more than two feet away from them.

"No, I can't...Daisies are easiest to make flower crowns with. They, um, have longer stems."

Woflie tilts his head further, showing doubt over Four's claim, yet in this form, it's not like he can truly call him out. All he can do is make himself comfortable, lying down among the tall grass where he can bare witness to the poor smith's torture as he goes back to weaving flowers into a circle, the only interruption to the silence between them being his repetitive sneezes and eventually a pair of footsteps approaching from the spring.

"Hey, we're missing you down at the water! Whatcha doing all the way up here by your lonesome?" It's no surprise that you're wearing a smile - Alright, it might've been a surprise a few hours ago when all you did was scowl or pout about your aching feet, but ever since Time allowed the group a break, you've been nothing but smiles and rainbows, a look Four prefers on you due to how contagious your enjoy never fails to be.

Immediately upon looking up, a smile pulls at his own lips and all of his muddled thoughts wash away into one. Even his voice is light as a feather without giving you any hint to his prior irritation; a complete contrast to how he had been seconds ago when Wolfie first joined him, "I'm not the biggest swimmer and even if I were, that scream Sky gave when jumping in was enough to convince me of my decision to stay up here."

"Yeah, it's ice water, but hey, anything beats sore feet at this point," You place your hands on your hips with a chuckle, sparing a quick glance back at the rest of the boys before your attention returns to Four, "Making flower crowns, I see?"

He nods, fiddling with the one in his hand which he seems to stare at for some time (truly it was only a few seconds for anyone except himself) before he holds the craft up towards you, "...I thought you'd like one."

"Really? For me?" The bashful smile he wears is easily missed as you awe over the flowers, delicately running your fingers over each petal. Like Wolfie, you see none of the flaws Four concerns himself with. Instead, you see a beautiful collection of near perfect daisies (only a few petals missing here and there) all weaved together in a strong pattern that keeps them from falling apart, "Oh, this is incredible…Wow, you truly are a talent to behold, aren’t you Smithy?"

He officially blushes, rubbing the back of his head with a wide smile he tries to maintain, "I can't take all the credit. I learned from the minish."

"You're too modest," You shake your head in mock annoyance, although the delight in your eyes never fades as you look over the flowers some more, "You know, daisies are actually my favorite, too."

"You don't say," Four picks at the petals on his lap, trying to act as casual as possible, "What a coincidence..."

You open your mouth to say something else, however you don't get the chance when a shout is suddenly heard from the spring followed by a loud splash. Four would've been curious to see what the commotion was, but he's currently in too much of a daze to follow where Wolfie and you look. Surely it's not that important judging on your calm sigh anyways.

"Aaand I'm pretty sure that's the sound of Vet drowning the Captain. Seeing as I would like Time to keep giving us breaks in the future, I should probably go handle everything before he comes back," As disappointed as Four is to hear you’ll be leaving him so soon, he forgets all about that feeling when you place your flower crown on top of his head, your hands hovering there as you give him a gentle smile. He could’ve sworn he even felt your breath blow against his face given your close proximity, but maybe that was just the optimistic side of him, "Keep this safe for me, please? I’d hate for your hard work to get ruined."

"Uhhh...Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'll protect it with my life."

"Thanks. Now if you two will excuse me…" After patting Wolfie’s head goodbye and winking to them both, you race back down to the spring, shouting something to the other boys with a fierce tone that is the exact opposite to how sweetly you always speak to Four. He might've had a little nerve to either fear you or admire your anger (which can be kinda hot), although he merely sighs lovingly in distracted thought he only leaves when happening to catch that knowing stare Wolfie is giving him in the corner of his eyes. Now, wolf or not, Four can once again understand exactly what that type of smug look means without words.

Pushing Wolfie away halfheartedly, he huffs, "Don't say anything and we'll be even."

"Do you think you could teach me how to cook this dish?"

Pour Four nearly chokes on his own spit when the question meets his ears. Teach Hyrule to cook? Now he knows all of his fellow heroes come equipped with many talents, but surely there's a line to be drawn!

Of course, Wild has a much milder reaction to this 'challenge', in fact, he's actually happy to be granted something to do seeing as he's been grounded to camp after his latest 'stunt', as Twilight referred to it. So, raising his attention up from the supplies he’s been taking inventory of, he glances over the wobbly handwriting on the paper that Hyrule holds out towards him, the Traveler trying not to look either too hopeful or too nervous.

"...I mean, I'm willing to teach you to cook, but are you sure you want this recipe? It’s not intended for beginners...Not to mention we might not have all the ingredients..." Taking the paper into his own hands and whispering to himself in thought distracts him from Hyrule's gulp, "We might be better off trying something else -"

"- No!" Hyrule bites his lip when Four and Wild's gazes jump to him, clearly surprised by his tone. Shifting on his feet, Hyrule tries to clear his throat as a poor attempt at acting 'natural', "I, uh, would really like to try this recipe. It sounded pretty good when the baker explained it, plus we've been traveling for so long and it's not everyday that we get to try something like it - Oh! And I already have all the ingredients. 'bought them in the last town we went to."

Hyrule hopes he isn’t coming off as too pushy or, in the worst case scenario, desperate. This plan is nerve wracking as it is, thus the last thing he needs is anyone asking questions, after all, he already had a close call when you caught him leaving that bakery during your stay in town.

When you saw him leave without buying anything, you assumed he was being rupee-cautious and offered to buy him something sweet if that was what his heart desired. You’re kind like that, always keeping an eye on him and doing your best to hype him up as being just as worthy of the hero’s title as everyone else. That’s why he couldn’t possibly have told you then that you’re what his heart desires most. No, that would’ve been too weird and cliche, even he knows that. You deserve a better confession (whenever he finds the courage for that), but in the meantime, he can at least show you his gratitude through gifts which is why he currently stands here mentally praying for Wild’s help; he’s his only hope at this point!

The Champion looks inside the pouch Hyrule had quite literally tossed at him, the Smith also sneaking a peek from over his shoulder. Comparing the written ingredients to those in the pouch, they confirm that everything is there (surprisingly no weird foods that Hyrule somehow manages to find).

"...Well, the Traveler's right about one thing: we don't usually get a chance to eat sweets on the road, not to mention everyone's been a bit stressed since our last battle. Maybe a treat would be a good way to lift spirits," Four suggests, although the words feel as if they must be pushed through his teeth. Already, his stomach tosses and turns in memory of the last 'dish' Hyrule made which resulted in seven of the ten heroes getting food poisoning and Hyrule receiving a permanent ban from the kitchen ever since.

Wild hums in thought then, to Hyrule's joy, nods and hands him back the recipe, "Alright. Let's get started."

Thinking back to it now, the request seemed so easy to him. Unlike the others who usually see their lives flash before their eyes at the thought of Hyrule's cooking, Wild has actually enjoyed most of his meals including the one that made nearly everyone sick, his only complaint being the need for less salt (a critique that was drowned by out Wind's over the top gagging). With that said, he saw no issue with helping the Traveler complete the desired recipe, however it's always possible for someone to come around to reason, it just took a lot of smoke and heaving, but come around nevertheless.

One minute everything was cooking as it should with a wonderful aroma filling the camp. All Wild did was turn his back. It was only seconds - that's it, seconds - before the cooking pot exploded into a puff of smoke and sparks. Since then, it's been utter havoc which is normally the word everyone else uses whenever Wild and Hyrule get paired, but today, Wild's admitting it himself. Is this usually how stressed Twilight feels?! If so, then he's sorry! He doesn't have time to actually apologize and will most likely forget by the time he sees his mentor again, but dear Hylia, he's sorry!

It's by the grace of the goddesses that no one comes running back to camp to find the scene that would await them if they did: Wild and Hyrule working together to frantically stomp out the flames before they reach any supplies or burn down the entire forest. Even then, evidence of their crimes remains in the form of charred grass and the coat of soot that covers Hyrule's face, stretching his bangs to the sky as his eyes carry a certain daze to them. Maybe now that he's literally had his work blow in his face, he can finally admit that his cooking might not be the best in the group's.

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Hyrule meets Wild's shout, however he soon falters and pokes his fingers together innocently with a mumble, "...I thought you said that monster parts can give dishes effects..."

“Yeah, some…” Wild's face drops, his eyes wide with realization yet he still finds himself asking with a hint of fear to his voice, "What did you add?"

"..."

"Please don't tell me..."

"...Red chuchu jelly..."

"Dear Hylia!"

"I was curious to see what effect it would have!"

“It blows up! That’s the effect it has!”

"Do I even want to know what's going on here?"

Oh Goddesses, please kill him now...Hyrule had hoped if anyone, it would be the Old Man or maybe even the Captain who came running back to scold them, but you? Oh, you’re the last person he wanted to see this!

To be fair, you still aren't as bad as one of the stricter adults who would’ve immediately accessed the situation and started handing out punishments. Instead, you plan to let them plead their case. Actually, you don't even look that angry, mainly confused and tired as you stand at the edge of camp, arms crossed with an expression that's anything except amused (probably because you had the unfortunate fate of being one of the seven who got food poisoning from Hyrule's last ‘cooking’ attempt).

Before either boy can begin explaining themselves, you sniff the air and immediately scrunch your nose as a reaction to the awful smell that burns it. Hyrule swears you even gag, although it's hard to tell because of how fast you shoot a hand up to cover the whole lower part of your face.

"What in Hylia's name were you trying to make? It smells like bokoblin guts!"

Hyrule shrinks even further into his embarrassment, "...It was supposed to be a fruit cake..."

"A fruit cake?"

"Hyrule wanted to learn how to cook and had the recipe for one. It just...didn't go as planned," Wild rubs the back of his neck, sparing a pitiful glance at the smoldering gunk that sticks to the cooking pot. It'll be a pain to clean later, that's for sure.

"Obviously,” You roll your eyes followed by a frown as you look to the cooking pot yourself with more sympathy than pity, "...But it’s a shame. I love fruit cake."

Wild blinks, his eyes shifting from you to Hyrule as the gears inside his head begin to turn. Meanwhile Hyrule tries to clear away the soot from his face with a quick drag of his sleeve, however he only makes matters worse by smearing it, "I'm sorry. I really wanted it to turn out right for you, but…I guess I should’ve just bought a cake at that bakery, huh? …I’m not cut out for cooking myself…”

Your frown remains as does that look of sympathy. Stepping forward, you take your canteen from your hip and dump a little water over the very edge of your cloak. By the time it's properly soaked, you're standing in front of Hyrule and using the cloth to wipe away the scoot from his face. Your attempts are far more successful than his, getting most of the gray off at the cost of your clock taking on the shade itself, not that you show any care.

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it some day, 'rule. It's something that requires practice and patience. After all, I'm sure Wild wasn't as good of a cook from the start as he is now.”

"Umm -"

"- Shush."

And with that, Wild immediately puts his hand down with a pout.

"Start out with some simple dishes first, then whenever you get the basic skills of cooking down, I'll teach you how to properly make fruit cake. How about that?"

Hyrule's eyes nearly sparkle at the offer. Sure, Wild is his partner in crime when it comes to getting into unnecessary trouble, however he'd much rather have you as his cooking partner (and maybe his partner in everything else, too, if he can one day get that far). That's likely why he nods too quickly, his bangs still being stuck upright which prevents them from bobbing with the movement for once.

You chuckle at his excitement and go to leave camp to return to whatever you had been doing before, although you do stop to ruffle his hair, reminding him to wash it when he gets a chance (words he doesn't hear because he’s too busy obsessing over the feeling of your hand running through his hair).

"You know -" Hyrule jolts out of his trance, cheeks red at the realization that he had forgotten all about Wild who stands with most his wait shifted to the side, arms crossed and a smirk pulling at his lips, "- Usually when you like someone, the best thing to do is to try not poisoning them."

"I-I wasn't - That's not what I -"

"- We still have some ingredients left over. Let's start from the top," Wild merely shakes off Hyrule’s rambling, something the Traveler is thankful for as he begins to trail after his friend back to the cooking pot, however he stops dead in his tracks when Wild suddenly spins around to point a wooden spoon at him, "BUT, no more adding anything that isn't in the recipe when I turn my back or else I'm warning (Y/n) that they'll have to be doing all the cooking in your relationship…Hylia knows I can’t afford getting in trouble again with Twilight...”

Hyrule gulps and nods more timidly than he had with you, "W-Will do."

This was a mistake and the worst part is that Legend knew it before he even committed to the decision. He knew it would be a bad idea to 'invite' nine others into his home, even if it was to be a temporary trip, yet he opened the doors to mayhem anyway.

He blames his own tiredness, if anything. He didn't really feel like presenting a good argument as to why everyone should remain outside, which would've been especially difficult to pull off given the blazing sun above. No one wanted to just ‘wait outside’, not when their curiosity was overflowing at the thought of all the cool things the Vet must be hiding inside his home. So ever so foolishly, he let them in, underestimating the exact extent of annoyance he'd be instantly cursing himself with.

"Don't touch that!"

"Get away from there!"

"Hey, those are delicate! Put them down!"

"No, I am not playing any music! I'm just here to switch out my weapons. Just - STOP SHIFTING THROUGH MY STUFF! HAVEN’T YOU EVER HEARD OF SOMETHING CALLED ‘PRIVACY’?!"

"...You can borrow that if you want."

Surely some of the heroes snapped their necks by how quickly they turned towards Legend, surprised to hear him speak in a tone not laced with vexation nor raised in a shout. Actually, his words are rather soft - soft for him, at least.

Even you're surprised, although it's not for the same reason as the others. Hearing the Vet's voice behind you, you practically leaped out of your skin and prepared yourself for the same harsh scolding as everyone else has received, so it takes you a second to process what he had really said instead.

You blink once then twice (the rest of the group does, too) before glancing down at the ring you have pinched between your fingers. There's a small chest filled with them in front of you, each somehow different from the other whether that's because of the color of the band or the types of gems decorating them. Of course, you only planned on looking over them with your eyes, not wanting to disrespect Legend's privacy (and not wanting to be shouted at either), but that was before one ring in particular caught your eye. Your interest couldn't be tamed at that point, leading you to pick up the piece of jewelry for closer inspection which lands you in your current situation.

Turning to face Legend, who only boredly glances at the ring in your hand before going back to his own business, you open your mouth to say something - perhaps ask if he's serious because you most definitely misheard, right? He's going to let you borrow something of his? After getting so peeved about everyone else simply touching his stuff? You aim to be safe and confirm permission, yet the question doesn't have a chance to leave your lips before someone else beats you to it:

"What?! How come they get to take something? I wanna ring!" It's Wind and his objection makes sense seeing as he had just been looking over the same jewelry box moments ago only for Legend to swat his hands away. He isn't the only one to see the hypocrisy either.

"Can I borrow this?" Wild asks, holding up a boomerang with a hopeful smile that nearly distracts from the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"No, you can't!" Legend hisses, quick to rip his tornado rod out of Warrior's hands while he's at it much to the Captain's offense.

"Oh come on! What makes (Y/n) so special, eh?!"

"They're responsible," Legend dismisses stubbornly with a wave of his hand as he turns his back to them again. The others merely roll their eyes in annoyance, Warrior mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'simp' much to Legend's frustration, but before he can bite back, he mostly forgets all about them when you finally get a chance to speak up for yourself.

"You're sure it's no trouble?"

Legends fears he might have stared at you a bit too long - not that you would've noticed seeing as you keep your eyes focused on the ring you fiddle with. Despite how much you try to act neutral as to not get your hopes up, there's a giddy joy to your eyes at the thought of getting to keep this ring even if just for a little while, after all, it's so beautifully crafted and the red rubies attached to the golden band remind you of Legend in a way you'd prefer not to explain in front of everyone else, let alone with him present.

"...Yeah, it's no problem," He looks away quickly, blowing some air which fixes his bangs out of his view. If anyone were to spend more time studying his behavior (Hylia forbid it), they might notice how awfully red his face has suddenly gotten, "...Just don't lose it."

Truthfully, he doesn't care. If it were just the two of you, he'd actually tell you to keep it since he has plenty of rings anyways, not to mention it would give him some peace of mind for you to always have a protection ring handy, but he can't risk saying that here. The others are already questioning him too much and the last thing he needs is either Wild or Warrior picking up on the hint. Maybe he’ll just wait for when you try to return the ring so that he can play it off better by simply pushing it back towards you and giving some excuse like ‘I didn’t even miss it’ or ‘I actually don’t need any more junk now that I think about it’. You wouldn’t suspect a thing then nor would anyone who overhears.

"Thank you! I promise to take really good care of it!" At last, you take no shame in letting your delight show and waste no more time sliding the ring over your finger.

Legend just nods, burning through all of his willpower to not keep stealing glances your way. Fortunately, it doesn't take him much longer to locate the weapons of his desire, allowing him to finally herd everyone out of his house while continuing to deny their requests to borrow some items for themselves. Hyrule is the last straggler, something Legend originally wouldn't have thought much of since the Traveler isn't one to usually cause him trouble, although there's a first time for everything as it would seem.

"Congrats on the engagement," It's such a smug comment to come from someone who looks nothing but innocent as he saunters by, in fact it takes Legend's brain several seconds of spinning before he understands the implication and with it, his confusion instantly melts into a mix of fury and embarrassment (which one is at the head could be anyone's guess).

"T-They asked and I have plenty of rings, so there was no point in me turning them down! It's not an 'engagement'!"

Hyrule merely chuckles in the face of Legend's anger, "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

Legend huffs, taking it upon himself to push Hyrule towards the exit so that he can sooner leave this mess behind, however before he can begin to feel too comfortable, the Traveler speaks up again while casually picking up a gauntlet off the nearby table Legend leads them by, "This is cool.”

Legend glares; a deadly look Hyrule once again meets with too much innocence - mocked innocence, the Vet is now convinced - nothing but an act!

"You know, it would be a shame if someone like Warrior or Wild realized why you only do nice things for (Y/n). If they connect the dots for themselves -"

"- You can borrow it," Legend cuts Hyrule off in a hurry, pushing the gauntlet into his hands while shoving him out the door, "But I want it back in one week, you hear? That's all the time you've bought yourself with, you rat!"

#linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu four x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda #reader insert #x reader

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drunkenlionwrites · 7 months

Note

Hey!! ❤️❤️❤️

I was thinking about Syzoth's request, because I thought about something like the pregnant reader and Syzoth's fears of losing another family or replacing the one he lost.

Syzoth's frustration when he found out and how overprotective he would be.

I love reading your stories ☺️

Hi hi nonnie! Thank you for the idea. You've been first to ask, and I am happy to oblige. It was fun to write after not writing any drabbles for some time. 💖💖 Warnings: a bit of angst, diluted by fluff, fem-bodied but g/n reader, ptsd, mentions of Syzoth's deceased family.

You’ve been noticing the changes in Syzoth’s behavior for quite some time. Where he has been cautious – he became anxious. Where he has been protective – he became overbearing. Sometimes it ended in him viciously glaring at anyone who approached you or occupied your attention for a bit longer than needed in his opinion, which was the opposite of what you would’ve expected of him – a forever approachable friend of all. He shrugged off your concerns when you raised any, but you couldn’t stop observing how anxious he became with anything concerning you specifically as Syzoth’s never been as tense overprotective mere months ago. Even now, lying beside you in the safety of your shared bed his face is marred with a deep frown, his brows frequently twitching.

Rolling over, you press your index finger to his forehead in between the brows and gently stoke it up and down, trying to soothe your lover without waking him up. It seemed to work since the expression on his face softened at least to a degree.

What is going on in that worrisome head of yours, m? You murmured to yourself, continuing to look over your Zaterran as he was deep in a now peaceful sleep. Stopping your movements, you lay your head onto his chest and close your eyes, deciding to go back into slumber, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat. You feel the man shift and both of his arms are sliding up your body to press you even closer to him.

‘T's nice to feel you’re here with me’ he half whispers, making you raise your head to face him. ‘Bad dreams?’ you inquire carefully. It makes him stiffen a bit, but he sighs with a reply ‘Not that bad. Just…reminders for me to be more cautious’ You can’t stop yourself from huffing at this. ‘More cautious? You are practically a walking security camera lately. Syzoth, is…is something burdening you? You know I am here to share your burdens? You can tell me. Please…I’ve been worried about you’ Squeezing you gently, he presses his lips to the crown of your head, his hands roaming up and down your upper body to comfort both you and him, most likely.

‘Well…it would be silly of me to deny this forever, but to be honest, I am scared, my love.’ Clearing his throat, he continues: ‘Sometimes…I…do see the demise of my former spouse and child brought by Shang Tsung. And it was me who failed them. It was me, who underestimated the threat which Shang Tsung posed, it was me who failed to secure my family in the first hand and me again, who failed to save them in the end…’ You want to interrupt his self-loathsome speech, yet at the same time you stop yourself and silently listen out what makes your lover be so on edge.

‘This time I can’t let this happen. I’ll be stronger, I’ll be more vigilant. I’ll be vicious when needed…but you both…that is…I mean, us both. We will be safe. Even if it means skipping on some sleep or losing a few skittish friends. You are what is important.” His voice is quiet and raspier after being just awoken, but you clearly detect all the pain and fear he’s still carrying inside, even when he tries to hide the extent of it by speaking slowly and breathing steadily. You nuzzle into his neck, your own arms sneaking under to hug him closer to you and he eases into your touch.

‘You know it’s not your fault, Syzoth? I’ll tell you this again and again, even if you don’t really want to believe in it. And if something happens to me, it won’t be your fault either.

You’re not an all-powerful God to save people from the vile threats this world throws at us. You’re not to be blamed for what that shithead did to your family. You’re just as much of a victim as they were. ‘I won’t be anymore.’ He hisses and you shrug from the sudden loudness of his voice and the way his arms lock around you tighter, almost painful. ‘I won’t be. And no one will dare to even try to hurt you. And if they try, they will see and feel all the ways in which a furious Zaterran can tear their flesh apart.’

‘Hey…hey, can you look at me?’ You tilt your head upwards and a pair of swamp greens meet your gaze. Your palm cups his cheek as you say: ‘I am sure you’re more than capable of defending yourself and me from anyone. You are stronger now. You’ve lived through a lot since then. You’ve practiced a lot. And of course, we all are more cautious now after the invasion threat has been revealed. Please, love…can you promise me to stop being so hard on yourself? You deserve to feel safe and calm from time to time. You know, you actually hurt me by not thinking I am capable enough to protect myself and you, too.’ You pout playfully as you say that that to relieve the tension of the serious late-night confessions. ‘I’m not Ashra level of strong, but I am strong. I was selected to fight in a Tornament back then before we met.’ You flick his nose gently, which earns you a small chuckle. At last.

‘Oh, believe me, I do know just how vicious my little human can be. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop worrying for your safety. Especially, not now.’ He drops.

‘What do you mean? Not now?’ It earns you a grumble, and Syzoth inquisitively looks into your eyes as if waiting for an immediate response. Not getting any, besides the confused expression on your face, he continues to gently nug you: ‘I still cannot grasp the extent of human obliviousness sometimes. How has your species even survived for such a long time? Can’t you tell, my love? You are with our child. And has been for…mmm around half a moon. I was assuming you at least suspected it…’ Each word hits you like a truck till Syzoth stops his silly little speech about the depths of human intellect and all you can hit him back with is…’WAIT, WHAT?’

#lion writes #mk1 headcanons #mk1 syzoth #syzoth x reader #syzoth x you #Syzoth headcanons #mk1 x reader #mk1 x you #syzoth fluff #reptile x reader #reptile x you #reptile fluff #syzoth

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etherial-moon-blog · 16 days

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What could have been

Description- When reader discovers Lo’ak kissing Tisreya, she is left heartbroken and a shell of her former self. With some help from Neteyam, she slowly picks up the pieces of her broken heart. As time goes on Neteyam considers her more than just a friend but is unable to tell her before tragedy strikes, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. Strangely, he finds that his brother is going through the same ordeal and they both find solace in wondering what could've been.

Pairing: Lo’ak x Avatar!Reader | Neteyam x Avatar!Reader Warnings: Angst Crying, Brief mentions of depression Wordcount: 2k

Na’vi dictionary: Mauri- woven hut | Tweng- loincloth

All characters depicted in this fic at 18+ minors dni

“...I see you.” When those words left her mouth, you felt your heart shatter. However, the next thing that happened ground those pieces into dust. Lo’ak leaned down and pressed his lips against Tsireya’s. The lips you had fantasized about pressing against yours were currently pressed against another girl.

Slowly, you back out of your hiding spot and hurriedly leave the area, hand covering your mouth so that a sob doesn't slip out. That night you don’t return to the Sully mauri until late. You spent most of the night on a secluded part of the beach crying out your broken heart.

It truly was broken, wasn’t it? Thoughts swirled around in your brain making your heart hurt worse than it already was. It was your fault. You should’ve confessed to him sooner, maybe if you had only confessed to him back in the forest, your heart wouldn't be laying shattered in your chest.

It felt silly in a way, pining for a boy that you never thought you’d have a chance with. You loved him when you were still human and your love never changed when you became a Na’vi. You thought that your new boy would have him see you as more than his sister's best friend or as his best friend's sister. But it seemed he only saw you for what you were…..his friend. And despite your yearning to be more, the realization that he never saw you as anything more than that broke you.

You cry for what feels like hours, exhausting your tears until you can’t anymore. Looking up from where you were crying into your legs, you see the sun has long since set. Wiping your face, you stand and make your way back to the mauri, silently hoping that nobody looked too hard at your face when you arrived.

Making your way onto the woven pathway, your body robotically carries you toward the Sully mauri. Your hopes of going unnoticed were smashed into pieces when you see Jake, waiting at the entrance for you. A small sigh passes your lips as you near, ready to hear the lecture he was bound to give you.

“(y/n) Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you since dinner.” His tone is harsh but you can hear the undercurrent of worry in his words. Judging by how he sounded you knew you’d been out longer than you thought and had missed dinner.

Gripping the strap of your bag anxiously, you only mumble out an apology while not looking at him. Unfortunately, Jake is too observant and notices your tear-streaked face and slightly red eyes. He sighs and pulls you into a hug.

“Listen, I know it's hard having to leave behind everything especially when you’re doing it in a new body. But I swear it gets easier and in time you’ll adjust and then you’ll wonder how you ever lived differently.”

Right, he assumed you were crying because of your not being able to adjust to your new body which while true to an extent, wasn't the cause of your tears. Not wanting to admit what happened, you half-heartedly return the hug that Jake gives in earnest. He pulls away and gives you a small smile while rubbing your arms before releasing you to go inside.

As you walk in you notice that everyone aside from Tuk is still awake. It made you feel worse honestly. Knowing that you caused everyone to worry about you so much that they stayed up to look for you. Kiri is the first to greet you at the door and presents you with food she saved for you.

“Saved you some food, I figured you’d be hungry,” Kiri says. The sympathetic and concerned look she's giving you lets you know that she knows something is wrong but isn't willing to press it. Thankful and aware of the eyes on you, you take the food and make your way over to your little corner of the pod. If anybody wants to say something to you they don't, instead opting to get themselves ready for bed. You pick at the food, only taking small bites before setting it aside and getting ready for bed yourself.

Kiri watched as you laid your mat closer to hers instead of being near her brother like usual. Though she didn’t say anything, the cogs in her brain were slowly turning and as she watched you lay down, she couldn’t help but notice your body shaking slightly.

~ Some time later~

The days blurred together as you went about your life on the island. You spent as little time as possible around Lo’ak and Tisreya. Despite your best efforts, every interaction you saw of the two drove the knife deeper, and not wanting to let your heartbreak known you decide the best way is to avoid them.

Being around them when you had to was torture. Every interaction they had you noticed the subtle ways he showed his affection for her. You saw how much more touchy he was with her. He was always physically affectionate, always standing close or having his arm wrapped around your shoulders but with her it was different.

With her, his touch was gentler, more affectionate. Whenever he hugged her he would linger as though he was basking in the warmth of her hug and it stung. You tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you and stand suddenly, causing everyone to look at you.

“You good bro?” Lo’ak asks as he and everyone else watches you grab your bag and pull it over your head.

“M’fine. I have to go.” You mumble before quickly making your exit from where the group was sitting, tears forming in your eyes. You quickly make your way towards your secluded spot on the beach and immediately plop behind the first rock you see.

The tears now flow freely as sobs begin to rack your body. You wanted to scream, but nothing would come out but the strangled sounds of your despair. You were crying so hard and so loudly that you barely heard the footsteps approaching and it wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder that you realized someone else was there.

You nearly jumped out of your skin once the hand made contact with you. Jumping away, you furiously wipe at your eyes until you realize that you know who touched you.

“N-Neteyam…what are you doing here?” Your voice was very obviously hoarse and it cracked as you spoke, causing you to wince.

Neteyam, hands held up in surrender and brow furrowed began to speak. “When you took off I followed you to make sure you were okay. When I heard you crying I knew you weren’t okay. What’s going on? What happened back there?”

You swallow thickly. Somebody had finally caught you crying and it was Neteyam of all people. He wouldn’t leave you alone until he was sure you were alright which is the last thing you wanted right now.

“I-I….” What were you supposed to say? ‘Hey, you caught me crying over your brother. He didn’t reject me, I was just too chickenshit to actually confess and now the sight of him and Tisreya makes me want to peel my own skin off and scream until I’m hoarse. Don’t worry tho I’m fine.’

Wiping your eyes again you swallow once more and begin to talk. “I’m sorry I just…I really miss Spider and Home. It’s been hard adjusting to Spider going missing, getting a new body, and moving in such a short time span.” Okay, you just lied to him. Not everything you said was a lie but you weren’t going to tell Neteyam you were crying over his brother.

“Do you…would you like to talk about it?” He asks hesitantly. He’s trying his best to comfort you and despite lying to him just now, you feel the need to convince him you’re alright.

“Thanks but no thanks. I really don’t wanna talk about it. The crying was my way of getting it all out you know?” Neteyam nodded as you spoke, seemingly understanding your desire to cry it out instead of talking about it.

He outstretches his hand and gently places it on your shoulder. “If you want, you could cry if you need to now.” He seems to have a sudden realization and quickly removes his hand before adding, “I-if you want to that is”

Your hand flies to your mouth and you turn from him. He sees your shoulders shaking and begins to panic. He begins to rapidly throw out apologies and words of affirmation until he hears your stifled laughter and calms.

It takes a moment for you to fully calm down but when you do, you turn to him, hand still covering your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I swear I’m not laughing at what you said…” A giggle slips out. “...just how you said it. Who knew the great Neteyam Sully was so awkward?” You say with a smile.

Neteyam cracks a smile and shakes his head. “You caught me. I’m not great at everything, just at most things.”

You let out a faux scandalized gasp and Neteyam laughs in response. “I know right? Kinda shocking that I’m not the best at comforting people who aren't eight.”

With a laugh, you shove him playfully. “I don’t know, I think you’re doing a decent enough job.”

“Only okay? My pride is hurt” He says placing a hand over his heart as he attempts to sound hurt.

“You’re doing a decent job. I don’t wanna give you an ego” You say as you turn to look at the ocean. If Neteyam wants to say something he doesn’t, instead option to let the conversation lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments you reach over to your bag and pull out your well-worn journal, you flip until you find a blank page and begin to sketch.

Neteyam, curious leans over but you lean away from him as he tries to peek. “Uh uh. No peeking, don’t you know it's bad luck to watch an artist draw?’ You say with a smile. He gives you a look but does as you ask, instead looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean in the light of the evening sun.

After what feels like forever, you nudge him gently, journal turned towards him. “I’m not the best but I think I captured it well no?” Neteyam takes the journal from your hands and looks at the drawing in awe. In front of his eyes laid a perfect sketch of…him. You had gotten everything correct. His nose, his eyes, everything right down to how his braids sat over his shoulder. As he sat in awe of your drawing, you shifted a bit from your spot in the sand.

“I know it isn't the best bu..” As you were speaking you were cut off by Neteyam

“Sorry, this is just amazing. I can’t believe you drew this of me” The amazement and wonder in his voice caused a smile to spread across your face. You turn your journal back around and begin to tear the page out and once you're done you hold it out for him to take.

He stares at your hand holding the drawing before shaking his head. “No. No, I can’t take this.” He says pushing your hand back. “Dude c’mon you have to take it, I’ve already ripped the page out so I can’t put it back.” You shake the page in his direction. “Take it” He wordlessly takes the page from you, admiring it one last time before folding it neatly and tucking it away into the waterproof pouch on his tweng.

He gives you a small smile before looking out into the direction of the sea. “We should probably get going, dinner is starting soon and we don’t want to be late.” He stands and dusts himself off before offering you a hand.”

“Actually I think I’ll stay here for a little while longer, but I’ll be there soon.” You give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. If he notices he doesn't say anything and gives you a smile and a nod before walking back towards the village.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you heave a heavy sigh and put away your sketchbook. You pull your knees up to your chest and rest your chin atop your knees. Looking out onto the open ocean, you can’t help but wonder what your life could've been if you had confessed earlier……..

Authors Note: This fic is part one of a two part fic. That might change later but it depends on how motivated I am to write lol. If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed! :) Dividers by cafekitsune

Taglist: @melllinaa @fev0ir @iaratezaewa @hotdsworld @zaddyskye69 @kasai-https @darktyrantwinner @doctorswife221b @atxxokirina @iameatingmyhair @thepineapplesimp @lo707 @lyra997 @shadydreamlanddetective @atokirina-writings @plooto @luvv4j4ybe11 @xylianasblog @criticallybella

#avatar #atwow #avatar way of water #reader insert #avatar fandom #lo'ak x reader #neteyam x reader #light angst #angst

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utilitycaster · 8 months

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To expand that point about queerphobia (also, to an extent, gender equality) from the tags on someone else's post and sort of tying it back to my post yesterday about wanting to see characters work through similar experiences: I think it makes a lot of sense in the case of Exandria and Hale to build a world that does not have queerphobia and to allow people to choose to insert it if that is something their table wishes to explore. It's very much a case of wanting to build a diverse but non-utopian world that is welcoming to a wide variety of players.

I think it's a very understandable urge to want to see characters deal with the same challenges we face, and I think there are TTRPG settings that have done a good job depicting homophobia or transphobia; it's present though not common in Fantasy High, and The Unsleeping City is very close to the modern-day real world and has, well, period-typical attitudes.

The reason I get frustrated when it comes up in discussion of Exandria, and now Hale is that it's almost always used for one of two reasons: explaining why people (either specifically or generally) don't like a character; or even more frequently, explaining hesitancy between two characters in a ship. It's a convenient way to say "this person is oppressed or afraid for reasons that are objectively in no way their fault and which make the people who dislike them objectively bigoted and wrong". The problem is, while that's a valid story to tell it's often really not the story the cast is telling with these characters. Even more frustratingly, it often is used to steamroll other stories that may place those characters in just as innocent a position.

Some good examples in which this has happened in the fandom are Jester and Dorian. Jester lives on the Menagerie Coast, which is referred to a pretty wide variety of materials as being a place that is especially trans friendly (in a world where trans and nb characters already frequently occupy prominent positions and are not depicted as experiencing pushback). Her mother, a courtesan, indicates that she takes clients of varying genders. The biggest influences on her life are her mother and an otherworldly fey entity who famously can shapeshift. There is absolutely no canonical evidence that Jester would be unaware of the broad range of genders and sexualities in the world nor that she would feel obligated to embrace one that she is not; in fact there is quite strong evidence to the contrary. But if you claim that she's experiencing compulsive heterosexuality, it excuses you from having to consider that Jester is genuinely not interested in Beau, or at the very least is genuinely interested in Fjord.

Similarly, it was, at least prior to the reveals of early Campaign 3, common to headcanon that Dorian had run away from his parents because he was trans and they were transphobic. A trans reading of Dorian is still obviously entirely valid, but he left because his parents were suffocating and overbearing and often pit him against his brother. Dorian is still absolutely the victim in this! It's a valuable thing to relate to for people who have experienced parental abuse and impossible expectations. But it does still force you to think about Dorian's parents as complex people who came to this conclusion of childrearing (even if they are still in the wrong) and not just mindless bigots to be disregarded. And I think the former is nearly always a better story than the latter.

What also frustrates me is that this rarely works through the ramifications. The systemic queerphobia that would be required to put compulsory heterosexuality in place still exists once someone overcomes that and comes out; but that never comes into play when people are talking about the ship, because it's only ever used to explain why the ship hasn't happened yet, never as a significant part of the world that would affect the characters throughout their entire lives.

These are only two examples; there are countless others, some particularly egregious (*cough* Essek comes from a society that explicitly believes in reincarnation across bodies of varying genders and the queen for eternal life is in a lesbian relationship, I promise you his fraught relationships with his parents are way more complicated than simple homophobia or transphobia) but all of which seek to incorporate bigotry not as the destructive and deadly phenomenon it is, to be explored in the safe space of fiction, but as an incredibly lazy shortcut to be discarded as a continuity error once it's served its purpose.

#cr tag #cr discourse #i am going to be for obvious reasons VERY judicious with the block button on this one.

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months

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Obsession

Day 6 Voyeurism (Dave York x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Dave is creepy; voyeurism; smut (PiV, protected; between reader character and not-Dave); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2023

AN: This was requested by the lovely @chemicalalice

It’s a feature of Dave York’s new neighborhood, how close the houses are to each other.

His new neighborhood, rather: after his divorce from Carol, his now ex-wife kept the house, so Dave took the opportunity to embrace a new beginning. He moved from his McMansion in its suburban purgatory into a part of the city where the housing is more varied, closer together.

He buys a small Craftsman-style house, and he makes it his. He settles into his new life. Dave York’s Second Act.

He finds his rhythm. Work, then home. His daily run through the neighborhood. His evenings with a scotch, unwinding on his couch in bad weather or on his back porch in good weather. He has next to no back yard, but he can see where the original plat used to lie: his house’s original carriage house had been subdivided into its own plot, and the former carriage house was converted at some point to a single family home.

Owned by you. Occupied by you.

Dave noted you the day he moved in. He noted all of his neighbors, everyone on his street. He did surface-level searches on everyone—a hazard of his job, his perpetual distrust of everyone—but he dug a little deeper on you.

It’s been months now. Dave and you are on polite terms. You wave hello, call out “good morning” when he’s stretching for his run and you’re walking your dog. Sometimes your mail gets switched because of the off-kilter numbering on your street. That’s the extent of it, though.

Dave wonders how you’d react to everything he’s dug up on you. There’s the obvious stuff, the wide-open social media profiles that give him a good idea of the type of woman you are. There’s the professional website that shows your work history, your education. Easy stuff that anyone could find.

But then there’s the stuff no one should be able to find. The stuff that would probably horrify you, infuriate you, if you ever found out that Dave went spelunking for it. He’s horrified, a little, at himself, but you’ve become something of a hobby to him. An interesting puzzle to piece together. Is it boredom, the long quiet nights without the noise of his family? Post-divorce rebounding? Stress relief from his job? Who can say?

It’s a slippery slope from interested to obsessed.

It’s appallingly easy to hack your computer. It’s easy to pick your front door lock while you’re at work and your dog is at doggy day care. Easy to slip a monitoring program on your laptop, and since you have everything saved on the cloud, Dave has the bonus access to your phone as well.

It’s an obsession. It’s all-consuming. It’s a constant feedback loop of call and response: Dave thinks of you, has the image of your float in his mind’s eye. A moment later, he taps on his phone or laptop, pulls up his spyware, and can see what you’re doing.

Sometimes, you’re not using your phone at all. Or your laptop. Sometimes you must be otherwise engaged: driving or eating a meal, or drinking with friends or walking your dog. Those moments make Dave feel unsettled, irritated that you’re out of his sight, like the sun slipping behind a cloud and casting the earth in darkness.

Then the delayed gratification when you’re back, the sun breaking through the clouds again. You unlock your phone to log your meal—you track your food. You unlock your phone and pull up a playlist, and he can picture you humming along to ‘90’s alternative or ‘80’s New Wave or old hair bands.

You unlock your phone and read smutty stories on a website, and Dave reads along with you, sees the kinks you gravitate towards, and he thinks, “oh, you filthy little girl, the things I’d do to you.”

When your phone activity goes idle right afterwards, he can guess why.

It doesn’t take a genius to see why his obsession grows. Just a bit of boredom before, a way to pass time until Dave’s Second Act could really get going, yet now he thinks of little else, wants little else.

His rhythm: work, then home. His daily run through the neighborhood. His evenings with a scotch, unwinding on his couch in bad weather or on his back porch in good weather, the ghost of you beside him, behind him, in his head, hijacking every thought. The real you, the flesh and blood you, so fucking close—mere yards away, if he’s on his back porch—but you may as well be on Jupiter.

You unlock your phone. You open the dating app that is really just a hook-up app. Dave watches on his own phone as you swipe left, swipe right, send opening salvos to men younger than him, but not by much. He watches those men fumble, fail. He sees the dick pics that come through, pathetic shots of ungroomed dicks with dirty laundry, unmade beds in the background. He sees how politely you brush them off, how you return to the search and adjust the age brackets and the distance to cast a wider net.

Dave goes to bed that night and seethes at how unsure he finds himself. He should make a move. He should leave you alone.

If he makes a move, he’ll definitely come on too strong. His obsession will spill out and scald you with its intensity; he’ll scare you with how much he wants you already, how much he wants to own every part of you. And Dave is like a wolf: if you’re scared and run from him, he will want to chase you.

If he leaves you alone, though, will his obsession ever die off? Will it wilt, then exhale quietly as it dies?

-----

You unlock your phone. You have a match on your hook-up app, and you and this guy—this Eric—text. You make plans.

Dave watches from his darkened living room as you leave your carriage house. Dress, heels, makeup. Hair done up nice.

He seethes. Your phone has little activity for most of the night. Unlocked a few times, and photos of your dog pulled up. You must be showing Nice Guy Eric pics of your dog.

Does Eric pay for your meal, or does he make you split the bill? Does he lay his hand on your lower back, tantalizingly close to the swell of your perky ass? Does he chance a look down your dress; does he lean in close to take in the scent of your soap, your perfume, your pheromones sparking at the male attention?

In the hours when you’re gone, Dave lays out an infinite number of possibilities. Scenarios where Nice Guy Eric isn’t nice at all, and for some unknown reason you call Dave. Dave York to the rescue. Dave York scooping you into his arms, and when his obsession spills over, it doesn’t scald you at all because in this scenario, you’ve been obsessing over him too.

Stupid shit. It’s stupid. Dave is a grown man; he has a job and a mortgage and an ex-wife and children, for fuck’s sake, but he’s here mooning like a teenaged girl daydreaming over a boy band…

You unlock your phone. You order a car. Dave tracks the route from the city center as it gets closer to his home (your home), but when you climb out of the car, you aren’t alone.

Nice Guy Eric is with you. He’s on your heels, his hands on your hips as you fumble with your keys, as you giggle when you try to unlock your door. Nice Guy Eric spins you around, presses you against the door, kisses you. Dave watches from the darkness of his living room, rages to see your hands as they settle on the back of Nice Guy Eric’s neck, on his waist as you kiss him back, then lead him inside your small home.

Dave cannot stop his feet from carrying him outside. He leaves his porch light off, lurks in the darkness, and he knows exactly how it looks. He knows exactly what it is. It’s creepy, it’s borderline illegal, but he cannot stop himself.

His back porch overlooks your bedroom, and though you’ve drawn your blinds, they aren’t drawn tight. Dave on his porch looking down into your room, and he can see you and Nice Guy Eric. He watches as you and he spend long minutes on your bed, stretched out and making out, and Dave wishes it were his hands on you instead of this fucking idiot, because he’s touching you all wrong. He’s groping you, there’s no finesse, and you deserve someone who knows what the hell he’s doing.

Dave doesn’t know where the wellspring of his anger comes from at this moment. Is he furious because there’s another man in your bed, kissing you, fucking you? Or is he furious because Nice Guy Eric is not making it good for you at all?

Because Nice Guy Eric is an idiot. He spends no time seducing you. He doesn’t sit back and admire you: that amazing ass, those tits, all wrapped up in the prettiest pink lingerie Dave’s ever seen. Nice Guy Eric doesn’t ease you out of it; he doesn’t push you back against a bank of pillows to put his mouth and tongue to you. Nice Guy Eric has this opportunity to taste you, to tease you with his tongue and fingers, but he doesn’t take it.

His only foreplay is the making out, and then he’s rolling a condom onto himself, climbing on top of you. It’s a paltry four, five pumps before he’s shuddering and then collapsing on top of you.

The asshole doesn’t even cuddle with you more than thirty seconds. Nice Guy Eric may be nice in other ways, but he’s a selfish lover, and even Dave can see the blatant disappointment on your face as you see your date off.

-----

You unlock your phone. You pull up your hook-up app. Back to the drawing board, Dave guesses.

Dave is ready now. He knows your parameters, and he’s tailored his profile to fall within it. He’s paid the paltry amount to be featured—he already has a slew of matches, but there’s only one he wants.

He needs you to make the first move. In whatever twisted logic is ruling this game of his, he needs you to make the opening gambit, to invite him in.

You scroll through your matches. Dave watches in real time on his own phone, and he sees when you find him: he pictures your thumb hovering over his profile, because you swipe neither right nor left for a long stretch.

You obviously recognize him. You scroll through his profile, and Dave has been honest here. No sense in lying, because you’ve probably seen the girls when they come over for their every-other-weekend visits. No sense in pretending he’s not on his second act.

You scroll through the photos he’s uploaded, a few nice ones and one where he’s shirtless—an outdoors shot from when he ran a half-marathon last year, then shed his shirt afterwards, and he hopes you like his build, that you like the scatter of chest hair and the way his skin glows from the exercise and the sweat and the sun.

When you finally swipe right, Dave nods to himself, then smiles.

*****

Your phone chimes, and you unlock it. It’s a message on the dating app, and you send up a silent prayer that it’s not another dick pic.

Prayer answered: it’s not a dick pic. It’s a text message from the guy who lives in the house that’s at a weird angle to your house. The runner who sometimes gets your mail. He’s cute, so when he popped up in your possible matches, you matched with him and thought, “why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

His message asks if you’d like to grab dinner or drinks sometime. “No pressure,” he’s typed out. “I’d just like to get to know you better.”

#dave york #dave york imagine #dave york x reader #the equalizer 2 #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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sadist1224 · 3 months

Text

I STILL WANT Mafia!141 AU

Part 1 https://www.tumblr.com/sadist1224/742379650222784512/i-need-the-mafia141-au?source=share

Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/sadist1224/742405536052543488/i-still-want-mafia141-au?source=share

The Mafia!In which you, a former second lieutenant of the police, were kidnapped by unknown people while 141 were in another city on their mafia business.

The first alarm is raised by Val, who does not find you at the bar, although you always arrived on time. The woman starts calling and texting you, but your phone is out of the network area, so the second thing she does is go to your apartment nearby. Not finding you there either, she decides to wait before acting decisively, but don't worry. The waiting period will not be so long, in an hour her people will interrogate passers-by in search of witnesses.

Just imagine Price's face, which Alejandro calls right during the interrogation, and on his work phone, while the Ghost beats the next drug dealer to a pulp. The captain stops the lieutenant as soon as he hears the latest news that Valeria has started making a fuss. Her people are questioning civilians, looking for something. Price asks to keep him informed and hangs up. I have a bad feeling in the back of my head.

The guys immediately sense something wrong with this call. Johnny and Gaz exchange glances with the Ghost.

Kyle, who was able to get Van's phone number almost before he left, just in case. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he could call you or not, but that doesn't mean he didn't want to.

Therefore, when they dial your number 5 times in a row, and you still haven't answered them, their anxiety increases significantly.

Alejandro was actually surprised by Valeria's unusual behavior and watched her actions all day, until eventually he and Rudy came back to the bar to interrogate her. And, of course, they didn't find you there.

You, who always smiled so friendly at them when they met and who had already learned their favorite positions on the bar list. Of course, they couldn't help but flirt with you, but how else would they behave with someone like you? How witty and at the same time cute you could respond to Rudy's flirting and to the same extent you could interrupt absolutely any disliked thing addressed to you. You definitely knew your worth, you made great jokes and could support even the most insignificant topic, or at the right moment take the conversation in a different direction.

You are the perfect bartender, and absolutely the man who completely captured the attention of two Mexicans. In fact, Alejandro has already been thinking about how he can lure you to their establishment. You would absolutely fit into one of their restaurants or casinos. If, of course, the guys from 141 hadn't already had their eyes on you.

Yes, the British liked you just as much as they did. The way Johnny ran after you, how easily and often Gaz communicated with you. Or how the Ghost and Price looked at you.

Alejandro is not stupid. He knows how the familiar coldness in the Ghost's eyes changes when he looks at you. Or how Price's eyes look at you with undisguised interest when you once again bring them the best whiskey from your stock. And how masterfully you manage to ignore it. Alejandro is ready to give a standing ovation to your stoic, even expression when you refuse to let Sope join them.

You're a professional. And you're not that simple. The Mexican likes this mystery about you. Only a very attentive person will notice that you've been through some shit. And it seems that the Ghost and Price have already guessed this.

But now, you're not here. Alejandro knows that he has to call Price, tell him about the disappearance of "their" favorite bartender. And he is already ordering Rodolfo to gather his men and comb the streets, because they all know very well how dangerous members of other groups can be. And they have plenty of enemies in the city and beyond.

Johnny, who just can't find a place for himself after the news of your disappearance, cuts circles around the hotel room. If you could see how worried he is… The man is ready to take off right now and go in search of you.

Gaz, who has been sitting tensely on the couch all this time, clutching his phone and nervously glancing at his watch, waiting for Price to finish the conversation with Alejandro. Of course, what did they expect, appearing so often in a bar, and even in your company?

The ghost knew that sooner or later it would happen, but that doesn't mean he's calm. In fact, he already imagines how in one of the shelters he will clearly show your kidnappers that they should not even pull their hands to what already belongs to them.

Of course, they've almost claimed you. You're almost there, even if you don't know it. Price had already thought about it. He already had a rough plan in his head how he could lure you into their family. Of course, he already had the idea to buy out the bar to begin with, but Valeria sent him far away, even with a very profitable offer for her. So the simplest option has disappeared.

But, never mind, he has plans to the last letter of the alphabet. In his head, you fit perfectly between the four of them. In every sense.

But he just can't choose between you and their job. The latter was still more important. That's why Price decides to finish all the business here first, and then deal with your kidnappers. After all, Vargas and the Couple care about you too, so they may not worry a bit.

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 20 days

Note

Just gonna throw this at you! Hope you laugh! Kinda inspired by Retro Reader.

Valentino: Your Little Feral 'Wife' just killed one of my performers!

Vox: I'm sure Retro had a very good reason for that.

Velvette: It was that one who kept bragging they planned to sleep with you to get to the top. I'm shocked it took them a week to notice the fool.

Vox: They spent the past week thinking I didn't notice them killing my former assistants.

Valentino: You mean the ones you fired for trying to bankrupt you? Why didn't you kill them yourself?

Vox: Retro would pout and its much more enjoyable to see them prove their loyalty. I should buy Retro some flowers, maybe that outfit they were looking at.

Velvette: Hon I think the thing they would want most is you taking a day off.

Enjoy the weird thoughts from my brain after reading your amazing stuff! If you wanna do something with this be my guest!

I’m sorry, I just imagine Retro popping up out of nowhere and being like “I would like that!”

And Valentino is just. Terrified screaming.

Anyway.

Vox is thinks that actually a good point, so he leaves work early and shows up at the house without warning. Retro has a mild heart attack because they weren’t expecting him and the house might not be clean enough. But Vox brought flowers and the outfit they liked, so it works out nicely. Vox pretends not to notice the drops of blood on the kitchen counter.

Retro is also in a much better mood than usual with all the killing. They really like being uninterrupted in their work, able to take care of it as they see fit. I imagine it’s part of the reason Vox fired his assistants instead of killing them, too. It lets Retro blow off some steam.

I also think that Retro would become progressively protective of Valentino and Velvette as well. Not to the same extent as Vox, of course, but they wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who’s giving them a hard time.

As we all know, Valentino is the problem in most relationships, so Retro wouldn’t need to protect him much. If anything, I think they’d serve as a good way for Val to vent some frustration. They get together on the back porch, Retro knitting a sweater or blanket or something while Valentino decorates a new gun he got. Retro has tea or something and Val is trying not to smoke (and failing) because he knows Retro doesn’t particularly like it.

He also knows Retro won’t deal with any of his violent bullshit like the other Vs do. We see Vox let him break things, but Retro? They won’t allow it. They think letting of steam is healthy, though, so they’ll arrange for target practice while Val is there. They also start doing research on guns (they weren’t interested before since they are very loud weapons) first Val so they can recommend some new ones, how to decorate them, etc. Valentino is an artist and I feel like Retro would love indulging that side of him. If they become genuine friends (or partners, if they end up in a poly relationship with Vox) I imagine this would be a big part of it.

He’d complain about some performers he’s had trouble with, which ones are good, which ones aren’t. Retro would learn a bit about Angel Dust (but not much, considering Val knows better than to disclose how he treats his employees to someone like Retro). Retro would keep this information in mind for future killings, giving the better performers more leniency and keeping a watchful eye on all of them in general. Vox would invite them to a club or studio before this, and they’d usually reject the request since it’s not their thing (also not very housewife-type thing to do, and because a club meant flirting and we all know how they deal with that). After getting close with Val, though? They’d be more up for it.

Retro would end up refining their killing, having actual rules for what’s acceptable and what’s not when it comes to people talking to or making a move on Vox. They decide that if it’s someone’s job, like the performers, they get a pass. Random club goer? Thin ice, but they’ll have some patience. Both Vox and Retro make it a point to remind people that Vox isn’t interested in anyone else, so if someone knows that and keeps making a move? Well, Retro can’t kill the, right then and there, but they’ll go on the list of people to kill. I also imagine the list has different sections that people get sorted into depending on their threat level, both in terms of power and how likely they are to cause problems in their relationship with Vox.

Anyway, I’ve been neglecting the Velvette and Retro interactions so here we go!

I think it’d be a bit of a rough start between them, probably due to the fact that Vel already knows about Retros murders, but they’d get along pretty well. When Valentino described them to Vel, she got the impression they’d be more crazed and all over the place, an absolute mess. So imagine her surprise when she met Retro, someone who’s so polite and calm and well mannered. She’d understand immediately. Instant besties, especially with Retros fashion sense.

Now, Retro and Val have an odd sort of relationship but Vel and Retro have something more genuine and wholesome, I think. Vel would go to Retro for some advice, ask about ideas, and the like. She appreciates their unique tastes and preferences, as well as the out of the box ideas they can come up with. If Velvette is ever afraid something she’s making may not be functional as an outfit? She gives it to Retro, asks their opinion.

I also imagine Retro would have a good understanding of what fabrics feel nice together and which ones don’t, something Velvette may struggle with. She doesn’t have a problem with fabric textures, so she doesn’t realize how it may impact the buyers opinion on the outfit. Retro offers that new perspective, too, since I imagine they’re quite picky on that sort of thing. They care a lot about fabric texture, flow, and feel (something I can personally relate to) not only because it impacts its mobility and functionality, how hard it is to clean after killing, but also general comfort. Retro would be more than happy to help with whatever Velvette needs, but modeling is strictly off the table. They’ll do private photo shoots for fun, sure, but Retro is determined to keep up the housewife routine.

Valentinos visits probably tend to be more infrequent and out of the blue, but Velvette has a tight schedule and specific dates with Retro, something they greatly appreciate. The gossip they discuss? Top tier. Val and Retro usually discuss dancing skills, choreography, people’s tastes in partners and their horrible life decisions, which is fun but not exciting. Velvette always has some dramatic tea to spill and I imagine she’s great at explaining it in an immersive way that captures Retros attention. Retro would probably be able to offer up good theories and thoughts on how the situation would go, too. I think they’d really enjoy Velvette’s company and listening to her talk.

I also think Velvette would be mostly supportive (at the very least, completely okay) with Retros habits. She thinks their dedication is adorable. I think they talking about Vox’s work habits, too. Probably complain that he needs to take a break. Velvette offers valuable insight into what the workplace is like, so Retro has a better idea of the dynamics Vox holds with people, his habits, what he likes and what he doesn’t. They use this information to make him extra comfortable and relaxed after an especially long or tiring day of work. I don’t think Vox would really notice at first.

Retro berates Vox about his bad habits, how he needs to take care of himself, and I think he’ll start to listen. He’ll take a few more days off than usual, come home with flowers, and maybe go out for a nice dinner.

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #writing #my writing #x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #thanks anon!

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dreadsuitsamus · 1 month

Note

May I request sfw prompt #39 and nsfw prompt #53 for Gohan where he falls in love with the reader after they have a one night stand but she's initially cold to him because she had been hurt in the past?

#39- "why are you scared of loving?"

#53- "you're more than just a one night stand"

author's note: this has been in my inbox since january of 2023 💀 but i have finally found my inspiration to get it done! there's no explicit smut but there are some nsfw mentions. this is also written as a prequel to my story protect!

pairing: gohan x fem!reader

warnings: talks of a past abusive relationship, mentions of reader's ptsd, nsfw mentions

A sigh quells the silence in your room as you dress after a shower. While not at the lowest point in your life, you're still not far from rock bottom. Living with your mother again, only a year and a half removed from that day your ex beat you to a pulp and left with all your money and all of the problems of his absence are still keeping you from flourishing. Ruined credit score from a broken apartment lease, incalculable debt from the hospital bills that your insurance refused to cover, and frequent nightmares of him coming back to finish destroying you into nothing give you constant anxiety and each day is a new struggle.

Safe to say, you haven't really been okay.

You glance at your phone with shame, nervous for when the inevitable text comes from a man that's far too sweet and far too good for you to deserve you skipping out on him in the middle of the night following the mistake of a one night stand. You met Gohan through a friend, and he offered to guide you through ridding yourself of the medical debts and this is what you've done to repay him. Hook up with him and then run for the hills the second he was asleep.

You close your eyes to calm yourself, centering again before the bad feelings of anxiety and depression can come creeping up your spine. Gohan knows about your past, and he's a grown man. Surely one as attractive as him has a few notches on his bedpost and would understand your absence.

But the way he looked at you last night, like you were heaven-sent and perfect has you doubting such an idea. Son Gohan could be a man like that if he wanted, but your heart and your mind alike know that's not who he is. He's a pure, old fashioned good boy. He wouldn't have slept with you if he didn't romantically like you to some extent…

And you certainly wouldn't have slept with him if you didn't want to reciprocate so badly it makes your chest ache with all of the want you harbor. To have a man love you, truly, and treat you as you deserve has been on your mind for years, well before your former boyfriend finally left you. But you had that kind of hope in Tyler, at first. He was kind, he was sweet and attentive… Though it only took moving in together for his true colors to show. Lying, cheating, stealing— That's who your ex was after all.

Your heart can't take that chance again.

You hang your towel on the back of your door, gazing at nothing in particular as you settle onto your bed. For the last few years it's as if you've had so much to plague your mind that you can't think of a single thing. It's strange to feel so empty, just entirely devoid of direction or purpose. You've got yet another set of paperwork to fill out for your medical debt, and then a few job applications as well that hopefully will last longer than a handful of months— all of these places only hiring you on as a temp is a god awful look on your résumé.

Your old laptop awaits, but you can do little more than flop back against your pillows and close your eyes. The war in your mind is something you're used to, but the usual stress on your body is gone.

You bite down on your lip as you remember the way Gohan touched you. The way he lit you up with his lips on yours, how gentle he was with your body and feelings, offering to stop or slow down— even when you were on the cusp of orgasm! He's a perfect sexual partner, and if it wasn't for how damn sweet he is you may have even thought to make it a routine thing.

You drift off to a blissful sleep that's heavy enough for you to miss that dreaded text.

I hope you made it home safely.

Gohan absentmindedly worries his lip between his perfect teeth, typing in a frenzy as he shoots back an email to the hospital that wracked you up with an inhumane amount of debt. He's got plenty to get done today, mostly for his actual job, but he just won't allow himself a moment to make any progress until these firmly-worded emails get the message across: you will not be paying them hundreds of thousands of dollars for fighting for your life!!

The huff he lets out after sending his email doesn't ease the anxiety that's been bubbling in his chest all morning. When you came over last night to work on a résumé, Gohan had absolutely no intention of sleeping with you. You're a woman in a bind and he's here to help, that's all! Disgust crawls over his skin anyway, shame buzzing his insides as he remembers everything that led to your passionate hookup.

You smelled so nice and looked just so damn pretty… He just wanted to sit a little bit closer, that's all. But then you looked up at him (and he'll die on the hill that you batted your lashes at him!) and he was nothing but a fool for you then. He doesn't know who leaned in first or who started what, but he certainly only had the mind to end it after it was too late to stop and he was balls deep.

A shudder wracks Gohan's body as he remembers the feeling of slipping inside of you. Even with a condom on, he could feel the heat and the wetness of your silky walls as they gripped his lonely shaft and sucked him in for as many inches as he had to give. And thank goodness he even had a condom on hand, all thanks to the people fundraising outside of the grocery store that included them in their donation goodie bag!

You were so sweet beneath him, so pliable and warm and perfect. He feels his cock stir in his pants, jumpy at the memory and unfortunately eager to experience such a lovely time again. Alas, you've been through quite a lot, and he shouldn't get his hopes up for anything like that.

You walking out on him last night already dashed his hopes anyway.

It wasn't exactly surprising to wake up alone, though it did sting all the same. You're just so amazing and kind and beautiful… Gohan would have to be a real piece of work not to see how special you are. Only a waste of space like your ex could be blind to everything that you are.

Gohan checks his phone for what feels like the thousandth time, no text message back from you. He's starting to worry now, which isn't good for his nails that he habitually bites when stressed. It'd probably do him well to go for a training session, but he also feels so frazzled as his blood races through his veins that training may not yield any productive results.

He pulls his glasses off and runs his large hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes until he starts seeing stars. Blinking until the room clears, Gohan glances at his phone once again before standing with an indignant huff.

He's fine, all of this is fine. And fretting over nonsense won't make you text him back any faster. You need your space, and he's going to give it to you. No fussing required.

He does go make use of Vegeta's gravity room, though when the Saiyan himself shows up and he's left in the face of a full-blooded, battle-hungry Saiyan, he can't help but think that perhaps he should've stayed home.

At least he's not stuck with Vegeta in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber like Trunks was.

Gohan's text message remains unanswered, haunting you as you cook yourself dinner. You'll have to face him eventually, and soon, but what do you say? 'Thanks for the sex, it was great!'? No! Do you ignore it??

Do you have a choice?

Hooking up again isn't an option. Pursuing something more with him, something romantic and fulfilling, definitely isn't either. He's been a wonderful help to you and for absolutely nothing at all in return; you don't have any extra money to pay him anyway. The kindness of Gohan's heart isn't even something you can repay, not after what you've done to him. A sour feeling crosses your mouth, your appetite fading as your mind races.

He's a good man. Too good for where you're at in life, and there's always some kind of catch with nice guys. It's too risky, all of it. Will he demand more sex for more of his help, now that he's already gotten it once? You need his assistance to whittle down the medical bills— his stubborn insistence with insurance and the hospital itself is astounding, and runs deeper than anyone else you know. Left to your own devices, you'd have given up a long time ago.

He's not like that. The reminder scolds your terrible line of thinking. Gohan would never leverage your quality of life at all, let alone with the ultimatum of sex. He's not your ex, he's not a bad person in the slightest.

But you didn't know your ex was your ex at first either.

Your plate of eggs and toast nearly run cold by the time you've found it in you to send a response. Typing and erasing it several times over, you finally end up with a passable response message over twelve hours since his text to you in the first place.

I'm alright, thank you. Would you mind sending the copy of my résumé? I forgot to download it onto my laptop.

You are such a dick.

But the job applications are just sitting pretty without it right now, and you can't afford not to include the carefully-crafted résumé Gohan spent so much time on. He made it for you, it's literally yours, and the shitty little paycheck you got just a few days ago is already about gone. You're cold, and it'll surely throw him for a loop at minimum, but it's the best way to protect yourself.

"Chase a check, never chase a bitch." You murmur the cold lyric to yourself and bite into your dinner, waiting for Gohan's timely response. He's a busy man with a career of his own, but he always messages you back in mere minutes. He's a great multitasker like that, and you certainly aspire to be as efficient as he is.

Though you begin to doubt things when hours pass and there's no response. Ice slowly frosts your veins with every further minute that Gohan doesn't respond with your résumé; surely there's a good reason? He wouldn't have thrown it out or be the type to withhold it— your friend would never associate themselves with Gohan if he was like that, much less connect the two of you if he were the sort of man to manipulate things in such a way.

But the cold, paranoid dread doesn't let up even in the morning. Your phone has no notifications at all, and you even check the chat to make sure the message is sent. It has, and he's seen it.

Anger bubbling beneath the surface of your chest is overshadowed by the trembling of your bottom lip. How foolish could you be?? If there was ever going to be a hookup, you could've at least waited for your shit to be in order! Now it's all lost and you're on your own again, left to navigate debt that's threatening to swallow you whole and job-hunt in a market that doesn't want you.

Your mother's gone for work already as you begin your routine; your scheduled shift at work is a short one and not for several more hours, but to sit around and do nothing in the meantime will only spell certain doom. If you're given too much time to think, lord only knows what sort of outburst or meltdown you'll have. You're fresh out of the shower and part way through brushing your teeth when the doorbell rings, confusion etched to your features. You're not expecting anyone, though perhaps your mother has a package that needs signing for? Dropping your head, you quickly spit and rinse with mouthwash before jogging to open the door.

On the other side stands a damp man with crooked glasses, a dazed look in his eye and all the anger in you fizzles out. He's here. And the look on your face must scare him with the way his lip nearly trembles when he speaks.

“I am— I— Sorry!” Gohan stumbles over his words and you sigh softly as the trickle of relief siphons through the rest of your body. Gesturing him further in, Gohan slips off his shoes and hands over a folder.

“I got busy with my uncle,” Busy being a bit of an understatement; the moment Vegeta caught Gohan with his phone as he was reading your message and forced him right back into the gravity room for another training binge. “And I went as fast as I could to get this to you. I am so sorry about this.”

Your eyes soften and you carefully wipe a few suds from his hair. “I appreciate it… But you could've finished your shower first.”

Gazing up as if he can see the soap in his hair, Gohan’s cheeks redden as he laughs nervously. “Uh… S-Sorry.”

Reluctantly dropping your hand once you've fixed his glasses, you open the folder to find a physical copy of your résumé alongside a flash drive that presumably has another copy downloaded onto it. “Thank you.”

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Gohan bites his lip. “Um… Can we talk for a second?”

“A-About what?”

Oh no.

“I… Think you have an idea.” Gohan says softly. He can't leave it behind or anything unsaid; one night stands aren't his thing. “Listen… What happened between us was…”

“Sex. It was just sex.” You murmur, setting the folder down on the coffee table. “People have sex all the time… It happens.”

Hurt penetrates Gohan's chest. He knew you were jaded, knows exactly why and he does understand… It doesn't mean it can't hurt him. He likes you, appreciates your mind and admires your strength in a way that may have a bit to do with his Saiyan heritage. “Sure… Other people do that. But I don't. And… And for me, I…”

Tears start to well in your eyes. This man, this wonderful, caring, smart and lovely man is about to cross that line, isn't he? The one that can't be crossed again, the one that's going to end this friendship on a burned bridge and broken hearts. “Gohan, don't—”

“You're more than just a one night stand.” He says it anyway, taking your hands and holding them so warmly, protectively and securely. “To me, you are… Inspiring, and beautiful, and… And someone I really, really like. And that night was so great, and I was on top of the world until I woke up and you were gone.”

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and ducking your head. You just can't stop messing up, can you? “It's not you, Gohan. You're a great man and there's a woman out there that will make you happy and take care of you.”

“The woman I want is right in front of me.” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, brushing away the salty tears that fall when you meet his gaze.

“Gohan… You don't want this. Do you know why I left that night?”

Gohan’s other hand comes to the other side of your face, cradling you like the daintiest china. “You had your reasons.”

Your hands come to his wrists, not tugging his touch away as you feel his warmth bloom within you, lighting you up in unfamiliar but pleasant ways, encouraging the leap of faith that your hopeful heart cries out for. “Because I get nightmares. Nightmares so bad that my momma has to come and wake me up almost every night and hold me to stop the panic attacks. I'm broken in so many ways Gohan…” Your lip trembles, and Gohan gently swipes his thumb just below the curve of it, mesmerized by every inch of you.

“If you only knew just how much I understand being broken…” Gohan whispers, his “eventful” childhood flashing through his mind from his kidnapping and all the way to his father's most recent death. “Then you would understand me more than anyone, and I’d get to understand you.”

“You don't want this.” You whisper again, and Gohan leans in for the softest, warmest kiss to your forehead. It clears the rain, just a bit, and you lean into it.

“Why are you so scared of loving me?” Gohan murmurs against your skin. “You've never said you don't want it… Me. Just that I won't want you, like you're a used car or something.”

You come to hide your face in his chest and he wraps you up tightly, his strong body anchoring you from your fears. “I'm afraid to get hurt again. When you didn't answer my message, I thought the worst of you! That you were some asshole that was only gonna help me if I kept sleeping with you! All because you didn't text me back. That's just the tip of the iceberg, Gohan!”

“Honey…” Gohan whispers, swaying gently as he holds you, one arm wrapped tightly around your middle while his other hand rests at the back of your head. “You’d know my heart if you knew your place. So come find yourself… I'll wait for you.”

The fog breaks, and your smile is brighter than a thousand suns and Gohan has never seen anything more breathtaking.

#son gohan x reader #son gohan x you #gohan x reader #gohan x you #dbz imagine #dbs imagine #fic #x reader #reader insert

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