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ichorai · 5 months

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wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter.

Control. That was all he needed.

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you.

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled.

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.”

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time.

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine.

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you.

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth.

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow

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dilemmaontwolegs · 27 days

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The Perfect Life || CL16 {1}

Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Warnings: nsfw, swearing, fighting, mentions of character death, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, horrible parents, Arthur Leclerc being the best friend ever WC: 2.5k

One || Two || Three

“What have you got yourself into now?”

There was no simple answer to that question and it was the very reason you had specifically not called the man waiting for an answer in the corridor. You dragged your eyes away from the chipped grey walls of the cell and stopped reading the tagging that littered the bricks - you didn’t really care that P & H were 2getha 4eva - and sat up from the concrete bed you had attempted to sleep on.

Stretching your tired muscles, you ignored his question and asked one of your own. “What are you doing here, Charles?”

“Arthur called.” Charles grabbed the bars that separated you, his knuckles turning white as he scanned the other vagrants you had been locked in with. “Did you have to get him involved?”

“What makes you think it was my idea?” It was your idea, but it was rude of him to assume so.

“My brother wouldn’t know how to find an underground fight club, let alone join one.”

“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”

“Maybe, but I know you.” He looked at your cheeks that were still shiny from the Vaseline that helped the blows glance off, then he looked at your busted knuckles that not even tape could stop from splitting. “Why?”

You shrugged, but it tweaked your shoulder that had taken quite the punch and you winced at the spike of pain. “For a bit of fun, let off some steam.”

“Yeah, you look like you are really enjoying yourself,” he muttered sarcastically before walking away.

“Wait, Charles, where are you going?”

“Home, it’s late and Arthur is waiting in the car.”

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You didn’t call me,” he stated coldly. “Bail yourself out this time.”

Your clenched fist hit the metal bar and he briefly paused as the ringing sound followed him down the hall. “Dammit, Charles. Please?”

He continued walking away and you dropped back onto the hard slab of concrete wondering why you bothered. Charles never cared for you and the friendship you had with his younger brother, in fact merely breathing around him seemed to be an offence. It had been that way ever since your family sponsored his career, it was like he resented you for your family’s money.

“Y/L/N,” a burly bailiff called out, interrupting your ranting inner monologue. “You’ve been posted.”

A frown pinched your brows together as the door opened and you saw Charles standing in the shadows behind the officer. “Now would be the time for a thank you,” he muttered.

You were tempted to throw a ‘fuck off’ his way but bit your tongue and accepted the thick hoodie he had draped over his arm. While the sex workers you had shared a cell with wore just as little clothing, yours was for an entirely different reason. The sports bra and bike shorts were perfect for fighting in but left you cold in the early hours of the morning, so you quickly pulled the hoodie over your body. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money,” he sighed, rubbing his temple and leaving you with the impression that you were the headache he had.

“That’s not what you said to my father 10 years ago.”

“Is it too late to lock her back up?”

The bailiff looked awkwardly between the two of you and if you were in Monaco the officer would have probably marched you back to the cell, but Charles was in Nice now, he was in your city.

You quickly signed the release form for your belongings and slipped the family signet ring back onto your finger before turning your phone on. A flood of messages from your father, his assistant and his lawyer, appeared in the flurry of vibrations that made Charles scoff and shake his head. “Worried about his little princess, huh?”

It was your turn to scoff. If only he knew how utterly wrong he was, but you weren’t one to air the dirty laundry of your family - even if it would shut the pretentious twat up for one minute. “Same time next week, boys,” you said with a nod to the officers behind the Perspex wall.

“You’re seriously messed up,” Charles commented as he followed your quick descent down the front steps and aimed for the dark blue Porsche.

“Keep sweet talking, you flirt,” you shot back sarcastically. “I thought you had a girlfriend.”

Arthur had opened his door the moment he spotted you and he knew from the pained look on his brother’s face, and the smile on yours, that the interaction had gone as well as expected. He couldn’t understand why two people he loved dearly had to fight like cats and dogs every time they were in the same room. He had tried to get you to talk to Charles, to tell him the truth about your situation, but it had been hard enough talking to Arthur about it and you trusted him with your life. You weren’t going to go through that again for someone that would be more likely to spit in your face.

“How’s your nose?” Arthur asked as he gently cupped your face and inspected it.

“Relax, I already reset it.” You took comfort in the warmth of his palms but the fuzzy feeling that came with knowing someone in the world cared about your wellbeing was gone in an instant.

“Daddy can always buy you a new one.”

“Charles!”

“Forget about it, Tur,” you murmured as you stepped back and started to make your way home on foot. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“If you care about him you will leave him alone,” Charles called out as he opened the driver's door. “You’re just going to drag him down with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur growled at his brother before he started to follow you down the street. “Wait, please.”

“You should listen to your brother,” you said over your shoulder. “I’m a sinking ship.”

Arthur’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to your side and pulled you to a stop. “You’re not a sinking ship, but if you are then I will be your lifeboat.”

“That’s stupid analogy,” you scoffed as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you arrested.”

“I could have run when they raided but what kind of best friend would that make me?”

“One with a clean record,” you pointed out, feeling his chest bounce with a silent laugh.

“It’s overrated. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo now, one to remember my incarceration by. Maybe a tear, just here,” he said as he touched his cheek. “Think it would make me look cool.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Oh yeah, the ladies would love that.”

“Please don’t give my brother any more bad ideas,” Charles muttered as he rolled by slowly in his car with the window down. “Get in, both of you.”

Arthur opened the door and pulled you down with him, tugging you into place on his lap before you could escape. He wasn’t going to let you walk home at 3am, no matter how safe Nice was, but it was annoying that his brother only bought a two seater sports car when he knew that the two of you had been arrested.

You guided Charles away from the waterfront mansions and into the industrial area that was abandoned at the late hour. Arthur had been to your place plenty of times but it was a first for Charles to see the concrete building with a chipped tile roof at the end of the rundown street.

“What are we doing here?” Charles asked as he parked in front of a rusted metal door.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing Arthur’s cheek before opening the door.

“What is this place?” Charles asked again as he followed you out, frowning at the key to the door you found under a shattered pot plant.

“I can’t exactly go home like this, can I? Genius.”

Arthur’s door shut as he got out to referee the second round of verbal sparring for the evening.

“I’m surprised they even let you home after the crap you put them through.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still useful to them so they can’t get rid of me yet. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“It must be so hard living your perfect little life,” Charles drawled sarcastically and Arthur inhaled sharply at the insult.

“You think my life is perfect?” You laughed bitterly and Arthur looked down at his feet. “Do you know why I fight in that shitty underground cage? The only freedom I have is when I get in that ring. It is the only choice I get to make for myself. For five minutes, I am in control of my own life, Charles, I get to fight for myself.”

“In control? You have always done and gotten everything you wanted,” he argued. “You wanted a pony, you got a fucking pony.”

Your vision narrowed as anger exploded in your chest. “There was a price, you fucking idiot! I am paying that price now. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life planned out for you, to find out those gifts came with terms and conditions, so do me a favour and shut the fuck up for once in your life please.”

Charles took a step closer but Arthur placed himself between you, his palms pushing his brother back as your breath quickened to uncontrollable pants. “You don’t understand, just let it go.”

“Damn right I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you listen to her bullshit, Tur. Jules couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, and I can’t either.”

The whomping of blood rushing around your head echoed in your ears as time slowed and Arthur’s arm pulled back. You watched him close his fist like you had taught him, keeping his thumb on the outside to avoid breaking it. You watched the veins on his hand grow thicker as he threw the punch at his own brother and the shock barely registered before Charles fell down on his ass.

“Jules couldn’t be in the same room with her because he knew the truth and he felt guilty!” Arthur screamed down at his brother. “You were too young to understand then, but we aren’t kids anymore.”

Charles broke free of his state of shock and scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “What truth? Huh? Is it worth ruining our brotherhood?”

“Jules was engaged.”

“Bullshit.” Charles shook his head violently and you sank to the ground, leaning back against the cold bricks for the second time that night. “He would have told me.”

“Ask Enzo.” Arthur knew Charles would believe him. Lorenzo was Jules’ best friend, it was why Charles met Jules in the first place. Jules already had ties to your family and he used them to broker the deal that funded Charles’ career.

“Okay, so what if he was engaged?” Charles snapped as his agitation grew. He was suddenly questioning everything he knew about his godfather and it showed on his shaking hands.

“Because he was engaged to me,” you whispered, a shadow falling across your face as Arthur crouched down beside you and wiped away the tears you hadn’t even felt fall. You couldn’t tell if they were tears of anger or sadness, the two seemed to blur when it came to Jules. He was always there, even in your earliest memories. He was like an older brother to you, he even taught you to ride your bike without trainer wheels. He was always there, until he wasn’t.

Charles was right, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you once the deal was made. You couldn’t blame him for that.

“No, no fucking way,” Charles laughed, raking a hand through his hair. “Arthur, are you listening to this shit?”

“I’ve seen the contract, Cha.”

“You’ve always been gullible but this is actually stupid. She was 16. Jules wouldn’t have married a girl. He was 25 for fucks sake.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” you admitted quietly. “It was the price for the deal he made, and you are right, Jules was too noble for that. It took a lot of convincing on his part to wait until I turned 21. My father resented that fact, I think he was hoping to sell me off to someone sooner.”

Charles stumbled back to the hood of his car, watching as Arthur took a seat beside you and draped his arm protectively over your shoulders. The brothers stared at each other but you stared at the gravel between your legs while the truth lingered in the air.

You could feel the pieces connecting in Charles’ head as if they were being screamed aloud and you flinched at the moment they all came together. Arthur’s arm tightened, Charles' throat bobbed and nausea roiled in your stomach.

“It was me,” Charles choked. “Wasn’t it?”

You didn’t bother looking up as you nodded. “My father never cared about your career. He wanted a union with the Bianchi family and he finally got the opportunity when Jules asked to sponsor you.”

“Why the hell would he agree to that?”

“Because he believed in you, obviously, and I like to think that maybe he thought he could get out of the agreement before I turned 21.” You shrugged because you would never know the complete truth now. It made you sick to think that maybe he did find a way out of it, in the worst way possible.

“Your father…”

“Is a real asshole? Yeah, I know.”

“I was going to say sick bastard.”

You chuckled in agreement and tipped your head back. “Perfect life, am I right?”

Charles had the decency to winch at the reminder. “You’re an adult now, why don’t you leave?”

“I wish it were that easy. All my bank accounts are under his control. They didn’t let me go to college. I don’t know anyone that isn’t indebted or loyal to him,” you sighed. “I got this place with my fight winnings. It’s not much but it’s mine, at least until he arranges another marriage for me, then I suppose the poor bastard gets it too.”

“Marry me.”

You barked a laugh and looked at Arthur, his lips still parted like they were shocked the words had passed by. “Now you are being stupid. I love you, Tur, and that is precisely why I wouldn’t wish this shit on you.”

“Then marry me,” Charles offered. “You hate me already, and I owe Jules everything. You can come to Monaco and study, or get a job, or whatever you want to do.”

“No, thank you,” you said as you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door. “Drive safe.”

“I’m serious,” Charles growled as caught the door before it closed. “I am offering you a lifeline, why won’t you take it?”

“My father taught me many important life lessons but the first one was if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good night, Charles.”

Part Two

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc fanfic

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staryuee · 6 months

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LOVE TRIAL!

GUILTY AREN’T I? OF ALL MY LOVE CRIMES…

— [warnings]. [mentions of drinking (venti)]

— synopsis . . . [char] has decided to come clean and acknowledge all the facts necessary for conviction. the conviction? they’re in love with you.

(more simply, them just being hopeless losers that are in love with you hcs ๑>◡<๑)

— characters . . . venti, zhongli, tartaglia, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, navia, clorinde, arlecchino

— notes . . . i can't go on the genshin x reader tag anymore bc of the amount of smut on it, i’m so loved starved rn…*sighs dramatically* i added venti & zhongli purely bc i love them (plus they’d also be on trial for war reasons so hehe)

VENTI — 温迪

love is quite similar to the wind in a way. comes quickly, randomly, it can hit you hard, it can be gentle and peaceful yet it can also be irritating and noisy.

currently, venti was feeling all the negatives: drunk, irritated, and his heartbeat drowning out any exterior noises to the degree he didn’t even hear your recognisable footsteps entering angel’s share. normally, he’d instantly perk up at the mere glimpse of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to even bother raising his head up from his arms anymore.

“venti? someone asked me to come check up on you…you alright? (o*｡_｡)o” you gently touched his back in comfort which just made his heart swell.

“mfh…i’m—hic—okay (ﾟヘﾟ)?” he responds nonchalantly.

“yeah, you sound very self-assured don’t you...come here then.”

“drink with me… (♡´𓋰`♡)”

“nope, i’m getting you far away from angel’s share, this is bad, even for you.” you speak to him so softly it almost makes him sleepy as you attempt to lift him up. venti wrapped his arms around your neck in response, pouting at you with a hazy and dizzy look.

his hand travels to your cheek, delicately caressing it with weird concentration. he leans into what seems like a kiss before pausing and resting his forehead onto your shoulder instead. he whispers in a delicate and dreamy tone, “i love you… too much.”

ZHONGLI — 钟离

zhongli fiddled with the brooch you gifted him while out on a stroll the other day with a complaisant smile, humming a tune to himself that he specifically remembered you sung. it was such a lovely melody, something so serene and gentle it was almost like the feeling of sunlight on your skin. or perhaps that was only the case because you sung it?

he’s an ancient being with countless of prior lifetimes and ones ahead; he’s no lovesick fool, but he couldn’t deny that the giddy feeling in his churning stomach, and the swirling of his heart is a rather enticing experience, one which he cannot tire from.

his mind traced back to the short hangout you had earlier today; nothing unusual, just a walk around liyue harbour with his hand inching closer to yours, breath hitching at the minute contact before he retracted his hand to awkwardly play with his rings. oh, and that angelic smile that he loved so much…

zhongli traced his bottom lip, imagining it as your own as a silly smile graced his face at his delusion. would you lean into his touch? move away? be startled, confused, or even worried? would you look away? or…

ahh…perhaps, he’s a little head over heels for you, alright?

TARTAGLIA — 公子

“tartaglia, please. this is seriously too much!!” he crumpled another letter with that specific and significant order and threw it skillfully over into the bin. there’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to showering someone with gifts, ESPECIALLY during important holidays and events! at least that’s what tartaglia’s delusional lovesick mind has led him to wholeheartedly believe.

he gazes over at the countless trinkets you’ve given him over the course of your adventures and vacations; i mean if you can do it, why can’t he? little does he realise that “trinkets” is much more acceptable than “gifts that pile up to your ceiling at the end of each week”.

it makes sense for you to want to spoil someone any way you can if you love them.

…love them?? did he love you? i mean, he accepts your affection like it’s a natural instinct, sends you letters and gifts biweekly, his entire family knows you, and whenever you exchange gifts during holidays he purposefully skims his fingers over yours.

but that’s all just friendly gestures…okay listen he may have believed santa clause (or the teyvat equivalent…?) was real for several years because of pulcinella but he’s not THAT horrifically oblivious (grits teeth). he absolutely adores you, and the letters he has stashed away, that could practically count as love confessions due to how descriptive they are of your character, are solid evidence.

WANDERER — 流浪者

your mind has three defense mechanisms against impactful events: repression, denial and displacement. all of which were prevalent with the wanderer.

he pushed the conscious memories of abandonment into his unconscious, he ignored the reality of his feelings for you to avoid any form of attachment, and proceeded to take out his anger onto you because of the way you made him feel.

he’s convinced himself he hates you.

hate, within the context of a romantic relationship, arises mainly from a relational betrayal. betrayal trauma can feel an awful lot like the dull and lingering pain after a swift punch to the gut. the person who hurt you isn't a stranger, yet when they leave, it certainly feels like you never knew them at all.

that’s precisely why he can’t fall for you…but he does so anyway; because how was he meant to override the childish fluttering in his prototype heart whenever you gently brushed your shoulders together when walking, or when your eyes met and you instantly smiled at him so stupidly?

and well, he isn’t really doing a good job of pretending he hates you when he lets you touch him so freely, or when he seeks your simple affections out without shame…

☆ ITTY BITTY SPOILERS ☆ for both fontaine archon quests 🐳

LYNEY — 林尼

lyney rubbed his weary eyes as the light began to settle into his view. while initially blurry, after blinking a few times, lyney realised exactly where he was; the opera epiclese. yet he’s not standing where he and his twin would be if they were preforming a magic show, rather, he was standing directly where an accused perpetrator would.

despite how hazy he felt, that tinge of anxiety managed to bubble into his stomach to ironically stabilise him. the stomping sound of a cane reverberated through the room which fixed his attention to the iudex. “order.” his voice caused lyney to grimace whatever words he’d utter next. why was he reliving this moment?

“mister lyney, i hereby declare you as guilty in this love trial.”

lyney couldn’t help but blink and tilt his head in confusion…what kind of trial? was that some sort of code? 【・_・?】

“with no further objections, the oratrice shall now deliver its final verdict.” however, before he could hear the motions of the machine in action, he awoke: sweaty, confused, and face flushed a brilliant red hue. lyney glanced over at his bedside table, his cheeks tinting even redder at the sight of a rose that he gained from your fine hands.

maybe that dream was trying to tell him something…(｡•́︿•̀｡)

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

recently, the skies of fontaine have been ever so clear. every blemish of grey spotted clouds disarrayed into a flurry of white, the sun blazing out and making it the most perfect atmosphere for a pleasant summer. though…this was the middle of october, so this particular weather puzzled the fontaine citizens, albeit with little complaint.

neuvillette sat in his office with a gentle and subtle smile expressed his soft features, although he maintained that ‘air’ of professionalism as he went over a recent investigation, he subconsciously grazed his fingertips over a letter with your name on it.

to neuvillette, love is a lot like a trial (or perhaps that’s the only analogy he can conjure up to comprehend his deepening feelings for you). you put yourself out there, presenting your best case for why you deserve to be loved, just as a lawyer presents their case for why their client is innocent. it involves the same sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and even risk: you don't know how the outcome will turn out, and you have to have faith in the process and trust in the person who is judging (or loving) you.

his judgement about you, however, doesn’t need much thought or even a confirmation of the verdict with the oratrice. he’s in love with you, devoted, if you will. and perhaps, if you’re willing, he’d be happy to make a whole argumentative case on why you deserve him.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

he’s very tempted to make a case against you.

you’ve committed the most heinous crime known to teyvat, one which no person has had the courage to fulfil:

stealing his heart.

how long would he have you down in the fortress for to pay for your crimes? glad you asked, because he’s made an entire mental plan for whenever you visit him in the fortress of meropide (for whatever reason…let’s just hope it’s nothing TOO bad ahaha…. ._.)

your sentence would depend on how long it takes for you to fall for him too. god he’s never realised how much of an absolute loser he can be when enamoured it actually makes him angry. if you could see the way he low-key giggles and plays with his hair at even the slightest glimpse of you, he’s assured your sentence would be several years instead of his hopeful couple months (unless you’re already in love with him then…hey.)

i’m pretty certain if he could, he’d send you a letter that says “haha, what if we kissed? just kidding! unless…”

yeah, he’s THAT level of loser for you. (*´∀｀*)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

valentine’s day has become her favourite holiday! not for any “particular” reason…certainly not because she can use the day to “platonically” spoil you with food and subtle affection whenever she pleases.

“happy valentine’s day! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡” navia smiles at you and bows, presenting you a pink bag glittered in hearts, a cute bow on of one of the handles. you smiled in response and took the bag from her gently. merely catching a sneaky peek into it you could see several little plastic bags filled with goodies and sweets, ones you assumed where baked by her fine hands.

“thank you, navia! honestly, i look forward to this every year~ (∩❛ڡ❛∩)” you laugh as you unwrap one of the brownies in the bag and begin chewing on it with a complaisant and satisfied expression. your sweet and genuine look made her heart clench in her chest, she coughs into her hand awkwardly and looks away from your lips.

“uhum, i’m glad! anyways i’ve got uhh…something to do…(｡>\\<)” she replied hastily, clutching at her chest dramatically as she left, leaving you rather confused: you continued to eat her pastries regardless of the sudden change in atmosphere, because i mean who doesn’t like free shit made specifically for you?

navia’s mind and heart felt so fuzzy as she checked her complexion in her pocket sized mirror, padding at her face with powder to futilely hide her immense blush. putting away her mirror, she flipped over her hat to reveal a matching pink letter with cursive writing on it. “sorry lyney your plan was cute and all…but i seriously can’t do this today…”

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

harbouring her position as the best champion duelist means there’s plenty of people (people who desire death at the hands of a pretty woman.) who wish to duel or spar against her purely to see her skills personally. yet, so far there’s been no one who’s stepped up to that challenge (we can ignore tartaglia for now.)

until you, that is. you have no reason to ask to spar with her, and while she has little reason to refuse you, she does reject your requests each time. however, clorinde has learnt over time that refusing your cute face and sweet smile leaves a little bit of her hollow, so alas, one day when she had a free schedule — she accepted a spar session.

thank the hydro archon that she did because holy shit. clorinde never thought she had a type, perhaps just someone who’s the opposite of her to balance her out, but now she definitely knows you qualify. the way the sweat drips down your arms and neck, your expression fixed yet amused and the subtle vein forming on your hand as you grip your weapon…shit she’s not paying attention.

as you strike a blow that leaves her tumbling backwards onto the floor, a cheeky grin adorns your face that makes her heart skip like pebbles on a flowing river. you can boast about your win against the champion duelist for all of teyvat to hear, all she cares about is seeing that side of you again…please.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ah well shit.

this isn’t going to exactly work now, will it? technically, falling in love with a subordinate isn’t against some sort of law or code, but a harbinger being bewitched is a different story.

arlecchino leaned against her desk with her hands resting behind her. an icy shiver ran down your spine as her eyes were practically piercing through you. did you mess up on a report or something…? was this the end…(,,>ࡇ<,,)? you’ve always thought you kept a pretty good and quite close relationship with the knave, but perhaps that was your downfall?

it’s not easy to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat, that alone made it even more difficult to concentrate when you’re just an arms reach away from her in her private study, with no one to bother you two. it’s futile to ignore the fluttering of your heart, therefore, arlecchino decides to saunter over to you with a poker face, something which only made you want to die on the spot.

she leaned over on your desk with her hands right on the edge, you instinctively peel your head upwards to question her with a meek voice, “is uhm, something wrong, knave?” you begged she didn’t notice the slight quiver in your voice.

“i believe,” she averts her gaze before staring directly at you with a much more softened expression, “i’ve fallen in love with you.”

I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, YOU’RE ALSO GUILTY…

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

#AAAAAAAAH this makes no sense but i need to push SOMETHIN’ out….#genshin x reader #genshin x gnreader #genshin x you #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #navia x reader #clorinde x reader #arlecchino x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #gi x reader

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spitdrunken · 3 months

Note

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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nohaijiachi · 6 months

Text

Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside

Before we get into the subject matter of the title let me preface a couple of things:

1- All that will follow is, big surprise, my opinion and my interpretation of this character. Do I think I am The One And Only Who Gets The Blorbo Right and that my ideas are 100% the way the author(s) intended to convey the character? No.

More likely than not the way I see Aziraphale could be intensely different from the way Authorman sees him, or Actorman sees him, and I don't think that my interpretation is necessarily any more correct than anybody's else.

That said, if I also did not think that I am, in fact, correct on a certain level, I wouldn't have bothered forming such a thought out opinion of Aziraphale in the first place, nor would be sitting here, writing this post that I can already tell is going to be entirely too long and might probably ruffle some feathers.

So I'll be writing the rest of this post with the caveat that I while I do think my interpretation correct, I'm also not trying to change anybody's mind nor to discredit anybody's else interpretation of Aziraphale. We can sit here in the sandpit and hold different opinions and still be able to build sandcastles together, it really isn't that deep at the end of the day; I can assure you, I'm not here to fight nor cause fights with this one.

2- With the above point, comes also the fact that I won't bother continuously saying "In my opinion" for the rest of this post. You already know that. So, if something will come across as a bit caustic, do know that it is very much tongue in cheek and I am poking a bit of fun at general fannish habits that I am also very much quote-unquoute 'guilty' of having partaken into, and will partake into again plenty of times in the future, I'm sure.

So, with that: Here's Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside

A large part of the people comprising this fandom prefers Crowley. There, I said it.

This fandom's preference blatantly skews toward Crowley. Can we admit that openly? Let's admit that openly.

To be clear, this isn't meant to be an accusation or recrimination or any other -ation you can think of, I am merely stating matter-of-factly a phenomena I've observed in the last four years.

It is also not a wrong nor bad thing in any way, shape or form. I adore Crowley myself. I love them both so much it's unreal.

But I started with that because I think it is very much a symptom of the fact that a lot of people don't get Aziraphale.

I remember back with S1 there had been plenty of times when I found myself reading discussions and opinion exchanges about Aziraphale and Crowley, their dynamics, all the things that went unsaid behind the things that were said, and found myself genuinely surprised by seeing how some people interpreted certain moments wildly different from how I personally saw them.

I look back at that and I think "Oh, sweet summer child". Nothing could have prepared me from the onslaught of takes about Aziraphale that make me go "Good lord, what???" in the wake of S2, and the infamous Last Fifteen.

Now because I don't want to be pointing fingers at specific things and risk upsetting somebody more than I already am by being open in admitting that, guys, yes, some of the takes y'all have been sharing make me go "Yikes(tm)", I'll move on the interesting part and what I would actually love to discuss, aka cracking Aziraphale's head open and see what that actual fuck is going on in there.

Another preface: Because this duo is intrinsically linked and woven together it is downright impossible to only focus on Aziraphale without also mentioning Crowley, so... Let me circle back to our fav demon bae for a sec, here.

I think the reason why it seems that a larger part of the fandom favors Crowley is because I feel like Crowley is a much easier character to grasp. He is very open in his thoughts and feelings, at any given moment us, the audience, have a much easier time watching a scene and sort of ruminating in the back of our heads about Crowley's motivations for saying the things he says and doing the things he does.

That isn't to say Crowley is a less complex character than Aziraphale. They are very much equally complex and multifaceted individuals with their strengths and weaknesses, their issues and the way they each cope with them, how differently they approach their existence and so on and so forth.

But whereas Crowley as a character presents itself with a certain dynamism and a far more outward openness about his complexity, Aziraphale does the exact opposite; we can say Aziraphale is downright hermetic about it.

For us, the audience, he presents a challenge that requires a good deal of thought being put into him to see over the facade he presents at a more superficial level; he requires time and effort to fully dismantle him in our minds to try and see what makes him thick (other than his thighs), and thus I think it is entirely natural that more people latch on the far easier to identify-with, and relate-to, Crowley.

And that is the inevitable consequence of everything that makes Aziraphale... Well, Aziraphale.

So, where to start? Let's try and jot down what Aziraphale truly is at his core.

He is a contradiction.

This man-shaped being is a walking contradiction, constantly existing in a state of being coated in three thousand layers of misdirection and obfuscation and double thinking.

Why is that? Well. He's an angel.

Aziraphale loves being an angel. It is a tenet of his entire existence and something he cherishes. He wants, so very much, to be his ideal of what a good angel is: An entity who is kind and loving and understanding and forgiving.

Of course us, the audience, know that is utter bullshit, because we know angels can be individuals just as complex as the humans Aziraphale loves so much, with all their inherent flaws and capability for cruelty. And, on a certain level, Aziraphale knows that too.

So there we have it, one element of contradiction: Aziraphale wants to think that angels are always Good and Righteous and Never Wrong; Aziraphale knows that angels aren't, in fact, always Good and Righteous and, by god, can they make plenty of mistakes, too.

What else? How about Aziraphale sitting there, being in love with a demon, fully knowing that at the end of the day demons really ain't that different from angels, and also desperately hanging onto the concept of Good vs Bad.

And he sits there, existing with these two contrasting idea equally taking space in his mind, neither side ever capable of taking over the other.

What else do we have? Aziraphale loves God and wants so hard to believe in Her love for humanity and Her ineffable plan, and Aziraphale also time and again does things that very blatantly go against Her will, lies to Her face, and Doubts. He Doubts, a lot, and that requires the capital letter because those Doubts are what spur him in going against everything he's ever told to believe in order to do the right thing.

Aziraphale's very existence is a constant push-and-pull of things he wants to believe and things he knows are real; things he's told to do and things he wants to do. That's how we get "My side" and "there's a bit of good in you" and "you are the bad guys".

And nothing he's lived through has managed to break him out of this unhealthy way of existing quite yet; that's why he acts the way we see him act in the Edinburgh flashback in S2, or at the start of S1 when Crowley has to ease Aziraphale into the idea of trying to stop Armageddon with the usual song and dance of "temptation" and "plausible deniability" and "you'd be thwarting me", even though from the start we can tell there's a little part of Aziraphale who is clearly not at ease with the idea of the end of the world, and once he's been given 'permission' by Crowley nudging him, he is all the way in with the whole saving the world business, not take-backsies.

Both the moments I mentioned here are very important for different reasons, but of the two is very much the Edinburgh flashback that gets a lot more flack by the fandom and is blatantly misunderstood, which I think is the inevitable consequence of that minisode immediately following the glorious, beautiful, heartbreaking piece of art that is the "A companion to owls" minisode.

I've seen a lot of people lamenting that Aziraphale acts obnoxiously in the Edinburgh flashback and, yeah. He does. But I feel like the fact that we are seeing this after watching Aziraphale struggle his way through saving Job's children, even being willing to go to Hell for it, is a though act to follow and probably soured Edinburgh-Aziraphale for a lot of people, made them think that the character had regressed instead of progressing.

But, see, the way he acts is wholly congruous with who Aziraphale is and has always been and keeps being up to the very end of S2. Yes, even after what he does for Job's children.

If you get down to it, Aziraphale had been ready to give up and let the children die, in episode 2. For a brief moment, after Crowley told him he 'longed to destroy the blameless children', Aziraphale was walking away, having tried all he thought he could try to do to stop this senseless act. That was until Crowley tested him by making the crows bleat, cuing Aziraphale to the fact that his impression of Crowley wasn't wrong, and the he could count on him to do the right thing.

To be clear, I don't want to undermine Aziraphale's action by only giving the credit to Crowley but... It is, also, only thanks to Crowley cajoling him and giving him the right excuses, that Aziraphale feels safe in doing what he's always wanted to do all along.

He'd wanted to save Job's children, and thought he couldn't until Crowley threw him that hell of a lifesaver. He wanted to save the world and thought he couldn't until Crowley nudged him on the path of plausible deniability.

He wanted to save Elspeth's eternal soul, blinding himself to the hardships she'd have to endure in her not-eternal life, and was smacked right in the face by the reality of human suffering multiple times.

The way Aziraphale acts in that flashback can't be a regression, because there never was a progression in the first place: He'd always walked the line between Heaven's and God's will and his own, personal morality and sense of justice.

By all means, if we look at Uz-Aziraphale and modern-day-Aziraphale at the start of S1, his reticence about the whole saving the world business should, by all means, appear as a regression as well. You mean to tell me that he'd been ready to become a demon for the sake of three mortal children, and then suddenly a handful of thousands years later when faced with the prospect of the whole world going up in flames he'd just be all like "Heaven will triumph over Hell and it will be all rather lovely"? Like, fuck off, Aziraphale, you lying double-thinker, you (/pos)

Aziraphale constantly exist while being at war with himself. Circumstances have allowed him to rebel the will of Heaven and God more or less safely time and again, but he never quite managed to break free entirely. He'd always ended up being reeled back in, being fed the party lines, being made to feel shame for his independent thinking, until it all becomes too much and he is forced to step back from that freedom he'd been inches away from grasping.

Back and forth, back and forth, never stopping.

And all of this, all of what he is, makes it so hard for us, the audience, to truly see him. To truly grasp him. To truly watch any given scene with him and figure out what he might be thinking or feeling.

To understand Aziraphale is to understand what he is not saying when he says something, which is a good deal harder to do than it is to understand and relate to a character like Crowley, who very much revel in saying exactly whatever the heck he thinks whenever he damn well pleases.

All those layers of obfuscation and misdirection and double thinking that Aziraphale coats himself in are as much an armor that makes it harder for the audience to understand him as they are his very own downfall because, good lord, if you exist like that, if you exist forced to keep things hidden from yourself, well... It's inevitable that at some point you are going to stumble into pitfalls of your own making.

And I love him for it.

So, there? I hope I managed to explain something with this post, and that it wasn't just the rambling of someone who spends way too much time thinking about her blorbos. To be clear, I don't think people who haven't spent as much time as me trying to dissect and better understand Aziraphale's character are like, dumber than me or anything. It's just that this pair of angelic-demonic blorbos take too much real estate in my mind, lol.

Feel free to let me know your opinion and if you think I am wildly off mark and my Take Is Bad. I might answer, I might not, it all depends on time and my mood ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

#good omens #good omens 2 #meta #aziraphale #I love one(1) hypocritical angel #flaws and all #I want to create an Aziraphale protection squad sometimes

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berrieluv · 11 months

Text

ʚ 𖦹₊˚. remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: remus dies his hair red and you go feral.

kiki says: i saw this pics of david and i couldn’t help it. this history contains smut, MDI please, it mentions reader and remus being in his twenties and in college. reader is a horn dog but with a bf like remus who wouldn’t. there’s mentions of cum play, oral sex (male receiving) but it’s mostly domestic life fluff i think. sorry if somethings is wrong, english isn’t my first language.

ʚ 𖦹₊˚. ʚ 𖦹₊˚. ʚ 𖦹₊˚.

smut below the cut.

remus lupin had no right being this extraordinary specimen of a man he was. he was already too cool for you to handle, the mastermind behind every marauder plan, one of the top students in all his classes, what’s more attractive than a boy who loved to see the world burning but never burn with it.

sometimes you pinched yourself every time he called you ‘baby’ because nothing felt real next to him. it didn’t feel like you were on earth.

“no” you signed as soon as your boyfriend entered your shared department with a half smirk “no, no, no, no, NO!”

the last ‘no’ was higher and accompanied of a tantrum, the kitchen flannel was now on the floor and you walked straight to the bedroom. remus followed you, frowning in silence and found you lying in bed.

“what?” he chuckled.

“how could you do that do me?”

“what did i do” your arms start to violently move, pointing at his — now orange — hair. “well, sirius had a perm and he said i would look good”

“sirius had a perm?” you were really curious about what would made him take that decision, and more, how did it turned out?

“yes, never mind. what’s wrong with my hair?” he said, touching his already messy hair “i can change it if it bothers you that much”

you turn to face the pillow and take a second to scream against it.

“you look really fucking hot” you respond nonchalantly, as if you weren’t throwing the biggest tantrum of your early twenties. “it’s not fair”

“you’re like this because i look good? i thought i looked hideous. i thought i looked like those unemployed people who drop out of college to start a band”

“you look really good” you say “and definitely knowing you’re going to the university helps your character a lot”

“then what?”

you sigh in pain “i masturbate at the thought of you a lot, remmy”

he chuckles “thank you, baby”

“a lot, remmy” you emphasize “i mean it”

“i masturbate thinking of you too”

“yeah, the two times you’ve ever masturbate, and i’ve always finish it for you”

“what’s that?”

“you don’t like masturbating”

“well, no” he starts “i have you. and even before of that i wasn’t a fan, sorry?”

“not the point” you discard his apology “the thing here is, that doesn’t affect you as much as it does to me” you feel suddenly embarrassed, hidding your head on the pillow while remus sits on the mattress with your legs on his thighs “i can see myself getting out of bed later thanks to you. taking more time showering because of you. and what when you’re not here? i’ll just think about that stupid hair and have to do it”

“c’mmom” he laughs “you don’t masturbate at the mere sight of me”

“you don’t know what’s going on under those sheets, remus”

“fine. fine. fair enough” he kisses your shoulder “i don’t mean to brag, baby, but you make me feel really desired”

“you are, remmy. why do you think i make sure to kiss you every time we’re at the school cafeteria?”

“because you love me?”

“no, silly” he looks at you offended “well, yes, that too. but i just have to make sure everyone knows you’re with me”

remus chuckles again, that’s the only thing he knows how to do in moments like this one, where he felt so close to you and in his mind was only one thing.

fuck you.

in any way he could, he just wanted you to warm his cock.

he threw your shirt somewhere in the room and now he was on top of you. both of his legs at your sides and he just took his time kissing your lips and caressing your face.

he took off his clothes as soon as he could, he was an eager and busy man.

remus fucked like he was being chased. his goal was making you cum as fast as he could while that motherfucker just smirked and edged himself, watching the whimpering mess he made you, you couldn’t take any more and yet he still hasn’t cum.

“my pretty, pretty, baby”

remus sat on your belly, his already hard cock was resting between your breasts and he holds himself onto the bead board with one hand while the other toys with your boob.

you moan in his lips and he just has to bite your lips.

“my pretty, horny princess” he’s making fun of you. you know it by the smirk forming in his stupid handsome face “eager, baby?”

he knows you are, you always are. remus starts to move his hips against your torso, his balls humping against your skin.

a few seconds before that, remus starts getting closer to your mouth, finally standing with his knees in a way that his cock is directly in your lils.

you of course, receive him with an open mouth, how could you not when he looks this hot.

his balls are resting on your boobs and his big cock is now inside of your mouth, he toys with your face as if it was nothing, like you don’t have a gag reflex at all.

remus caresses your face with a soft completely opposed to his strokes. every time you suck his dick he makes a mess of you, he pulls out for a second and slaps your pretty face, you moan and he smiles, how can this moment not be perfect?

“you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever slapped”

you chuckle, you’re also the only girl he’s ever slapped and you intended to continue like that.

remus kisses you after putting his cock on your mouth again and this time you raise your head so he could hit deeper, he holds your hands as soon as he sees you trying to touch him and he laughs every time he felt you wanting him to let go. he pulls out of you and he hears your cries, because you wanted more.

“what, baby?” he smiles, leaning down on you to kiss you “you know i wouldn’t cum right there. s’ not much like me, is it?”

and it wasn’t, but you thought that maybe that hair would make him change his mind and not be so cruel about filling your mouth with cum, his cum.

“don’t be mean, remmy” you manage to say while trying to get back your breath. “s’ just not fun. you don’t cum. and i don’t cum, why are we even having sex?”

he smirks and raises his hands in a way of declaring himself innocent, of what? you wouldn’t know, remus’ brain overworked while having sex and yours simply stopped working.

“you wanna cum, baby?”

and, as if being under his body with your face covered in saliva and his pre-cum wasn’t humiliating enough, he had to make you bed.

“yes, please, remmy” and you were weak. you would beg if he wanted you to. “please, please, i need you, need your cum, remmy”

“wow, you’re unbelievable. how do you look this pretty while begging? i would look embarrassing”

“s’ part of my charm”

“let’s have you cumming, baby, shall we? if you’re good enough i’ll stuff you with my cum too”

“not too many rounds, remmy. just cum”

he laughs, but you’re not kidding. he kisses your temple and nods.

and by the end of the night you’re a complete mess. there’s cum leaking from your pussy and you can still taste it in your mouth, your breasts are sparkling with it too and remus tries to get you up to take a shower but you’re way too proud of yourself.

remus lupin came four times that night, and here you were thinking that red hair didn’t make him change his mind, because there was no way a brunette remus lupin would cum more than twice the same day.

“and ruin my victory that soon?” you responded when he begged again for you to go to the bathroom with him “let me be, remmy”

“baby, i promise i’ll cum more but please. you have to pee and shower”

“i’m just so happy right now, remmy”

“have a shower and i’ll stuff your pretty pussy with cum again for you to sleep like that, fine? but at least you’re clean for the night”

and just like that, your body was already receiving the cold drops of water.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #the marauders x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders smutt

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temis-de-leon · 1 month

Text

Demon Brothers as Single Fathers

What if the brothers already had a kid when MC first appeared in the Devildom?

Characters: demon brothers, gn! kid and gn! MC

Masterlist

CW: lesson 16, death during childbirth mentioned, but there's nothing explicit. Some brothers are better fathers than others, but they all love their kid with a passion. Romantic interest towards MC at the end

Lucifer

There´s no way he’s having a kid with a random woman. I already posted a headcanon regarding demonic pregnancies, stating them as difficult, so my guess here is that he had a long-term relationship and his partner died during childbirth.

Of course, he’d cope with her death just like he coped with Lilith’s: hiding his feelings. He had his sister’s room hidden in the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers knowing, so it makes sense that he’d hide everything regarding his former partner from everyone, including his child.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he loves that kid, but he is who he is. A strict parent that wants his family to be perfect, obedient and loyal to Lord Diavolo. His child might get an obvious special treatment, but they still have to reach their father’s standards.

All of that, mixed with the load of paperwork he has to take care of on the daily, makes bonding time very limited.

When MC arrives, he makes sure they know not to bother the kid, his threats visible to anyone with eyes.

We know MC, however. They meddle and they become friends with most of the brothers very easily, so it’s understandable that the kid wants to get close to them too.

Lucifer tries really hard to break that friendship, not trusting MC at all, but the more effort he puts in that task, the more effort his kid puts in disobeying him. And we all know Satan is helping them just to anger Lucifer.

It all reaches an end when MC frees Belphie from the attic.

The kid doesn’t understand the situation, why their new friend is all bruised and bloody on the floor and why their uncle is laughing in such evil way.

Lucifer only gets how much his kid loves the human when he sees their distraught over MC’s death and their tears of relief when MC reappears in perfect conditions.

Time passes and the family is whole again, granting the kid a new feeling of happiness and comfort they’ve never felt before. Lucifer feels obligated to rethink the situation when he sees that.

Then comes the last day of MC’s stay at the Devildom and he knows he’ll regret not showing his desire of deepening their relationship before they leave.

His kid and his brothers are not the only ones that need MC anymore.

Mammon

I kind of imagine him having a child with a one-night stand, to be honest. For the sake of this fic, the other parent is not in the picture, but Mammon loves kids, so there’s no doubt he’d keep his own.

And oh, how much he spoils them. He saves money just for them. Does he go right back into bankruptcy after that? Yes, but the intention is there, you know.

I also think the brothers would use the child to blackmail him, like “you’re such a scumbag, Mammon, you’re going to disappoint the kid”. A dick move, but they are assholes to Mammon most of the time.

And then comes MC, rocking Mammon’s world and, by extent, the child’s.

No matter how old the kid is, they can sense their father’s love towards the human. It’s almost painful to see and it brings so much second hand embarrassment, but Mammon’s happiness makes everything worth it.

Especially when MC starts to defend Mammon from his brothers’ insults.

The kid promotes themselves from child to matchmaker.

They spoil their uncles' plans with MC so they can spend time with their father, boasting Mammon’s confidence and telling MC how good he is and how good of a couple they’d make.

At first MC thinks it’s pure childhood innocence, not suspecting the kid is acting on ulterior motives, but Mammon knows what his kid is doing.

He tries to defend his status as too good to be interested in a mere human, let alone date them. Of course, the child sees right through his bullshit.

No one stands a chance against his little hellspawn, not even him.

Suffice to say, MC and Mammon establish their relationship long before the year ends.

Leviathan

I love Levi, I truly do, but c’mon guys. I doubt he has any friends outside the online world, let alone a partner; we can all agree he’s a virgin. So, for him to have a child, I think he would’ve had to be either really lucky or unlucky (depending on how you see it), meaning that his brothers took him out of his comfort zone so he could lose his virginity and he left that one girl pregnant.

I think the mother wouldn’t have wanted to be in a relationship with him, leaving him more reclusive than ever. He needed his brothers’ help to lose his virginity and now not even the mother of his child wanted to stay with him? Yeah, he’s not leaving his room ever again.

It’s difficult for him to bond with the kid at the beginning due to the lack of knowledge on how to take care of a child and the kid being born out of a loveless meaningless one-night stand.

He watches and buys anything family-related, finally understanding that the way he became a father doesn’t have to influence their relationship, so he steps up really quick.

Don’t worry, the brothers offer their help the whole time.

They spend most of the time in his room, bonding over anime, manga, videogames and cosplay, especially about TSL. He also forces himself to get out of his room more often for the sake of his kid, even if it’s minimal.

He still distrusts MC when they arrive, not paying them any attention, but he has to reconsider a little bit when he sees the kid so interested in them.

The whole TSL quiz happens and he’s surprised to see not only Mammon and Beel helped MC, but his child too. He feels betrayed and irrationally mad at all of them for an hour or less, just until the kid insists on MC’s genuine interest on TSL and convinces him to give them a chance.

After that, their friendship develops quicker than anyone could've ever anticipated, as well as Levi’s crush on MC.

Another kid that evolves into a matchmaker, although their methods are more dramatic due to being based on anime and manga.

The rest of the brothers have a lot of fun witnessing the whole thing.

Satan

My man has contacts, he knows people all around the kingdom, he fucks. I’m not sure if the child came out of a long-term relationship or a one-night stand, but his contacts definitely have something to do with it.

His whole mission is to treat his child better than Lucifer ever treated him.

No baby voice at all, what nonsense is that? When he reads to them at night he uses different voices according to each character, same as when they play.

The type of parent that wants to respect his kid so much he kind of treats them like an adult. Full conversations and everything. More like monologues, actually, but Satan is patient enough to wait for his kid’s answer, even if it’s a babble.

Cats everywhere. Toys, clothes, bedsheets… You know the drill.

Overall, Satan puts his whole heart into his child’s development.

And when MC arrives, he’s only curious about them because Lucifer is on edge. He’d prefer if his child was left to their own devices, living their life in peace with no human bothering them for no reason.

Then he swaps bodies with Lucifer.

Boy oh boy.

The moment he sees his child running to his brother instead of him, he’s spitting fire. MC intervenes just when the kid starts to get scared, something he’s extremely grateful for.

After the pact is made, both him and the kid see MC in a completely different light, but he doesn’t think about taking them out on a date until his child trips and falls while playing in the garden.

MC tends to them, dries their tears and cleans their bloody knees before using some cute bandaids on them. Cat-themed bandaids.

How could he say no to that?

Asmodeus

One-night stand one-night stand one-night stand one-night stand.

One-night stand? YES.

I’m surprise he doesn’t have a legion of children, Hercules style, but oh well, what do I know.

I like to think the mother tried to stay, but Asmo is a certified narcissist who loves spending time with himself and who’d also love the idea of having a mini him running around, ready to try new clothes on every opportunity and match him.

It’d be difficult to stay in a family like that, with a partner that monopolizes the child’s time so selfishly. It’s bad, but I could understand if the mother chose to leave. I don’t even know if Asmo would care, given that it was a one-night stand with no feelings involved, and he’d probably believe himself to be enough.

Asmo is as dirty minded as ever and he still has various relationships, but he tries to tone down really hard, at least in front of his kid.

They’re partners in crime above all, their chemistry is insane. ‘Don’t talk to me or my son ever again’ type of relationship.

Although the kid doesn’t have Asmo’s charming powers, they’re cunning. Doe eyed with a shiny glare and a brilliant smile, who could say no to them? Sometimes they even fool their own father.

Both of them are pretty superficial, but kind-hearted at the bottom of their hearts. It just takes some time and effort to see that.

The kid treats MC the same way Asmo does, although they have no ill intent, they just want to be like their father. So when Asmo starts to show some interest in MC, pursuing a friendship, so does his child.

Partners in crime, remember? It doesn’t take long for the child to act coy and cute, turning MC’s interest to Asmo. Again, no charm nor manipulation, but a little help from an innocent hand never hurts anyone, does it?

Beelzebub

I don’t have a single idea where the child came from, but if there’s something I’m sure of it’s that they’re each other’s best friend.

Beel takes them everywhere, in his arms, strapped to his chest or sitting on his shoulders, he doesn’t care, but they’re together all the time.

Scared to his very core of losing them, but tries not to be overbearing, trusting his brothers to take care of them when he can’t, mostly Lucifer and Belphie.

They're the most important reason to control himself, Beel feels guilty when he lets loose and scares his child. Seeing your father eat a column can’t be pleasant, after all.

Another one that ignores MC when they get there, preferring spending time with his child. Now more than ever, since Belphie apparently went to the human realm as an exchange student.

When he breaks MC’s wall and they’re forced to share his room, he’s introduced to the dilemma of whether letting them sleep in Belphie’s bed while he shares his own with his kid or letting them sleep in his bed, with his kid in Belphie’s and him on the floor.

He’s very reluctant to let anyone but his twin sleep in the other bed. His nightmares lessen when he shares his space with the child as well, so Beel’s very conflicted.

MC offers to be the one sleeping on the floor, something he immediately refuses, so he finally agrees to let them both sleep in his bed while he’s on the floor.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

It isn’t until MC defends him from his own brother that he starts to think of them as a true friend. He trusts them with his kid and he even feels okay leaving them alone while he’s out doing his own things.

Days after MC goes back to sleeping in their room, his child confides in him how much they miss having the human with them and Beel can’t help but agree.

He asks for his child’s permission before taking MC out on a date.

Belphegor

Had the child with a situationship, but the mother thought he would be too absent to be a good father. She tried to leave with the kid, but Belphie insisted on keeping them. Being one of the Avatars of the Devildom, he had the upper hand.

As much as he tries to be present, he can’t help but fall asleep most of the day, so Beel takes the role of second father. Still, Belphie wants to be in the same room as his kid all the time, even when unconscious.

He’s able to enter other people’s dreams, so his favourite way of bonding is at night, interrupting his child’s nightmares and transforming them into beautiful dreams where they can do whatever they want to do.

He even made versions of Lilith and Beel for them to be together during those dreams.

Kind of entitled, to be honest.

Belphie is a brat and so is his kid, but the child at least has the benefit of the doubt.

When Lucifer imprisons him he’s ready to destroy the house. The only way he can talk to his kid now is through dreams and even then he isn’t sure what to tell them. In the end he decides to let the kid be, but he’s always on edge, trapped, not knowing what’s happening until everyone goes to bed.

MC’s presence feels like a gift. A pathetic gift, but a gift nonetheless.

He asks about his kid and he seethes when MC tells him they’re becoming friends, how much they like spending time with the child.

He focuses so much on revenge that he doesn’t even realize what the kid could think of him if he carried along with his plans; how they could feel when all of it is done.

Killing MC is satisfying and leaves him wanting so much more.

That look from his child, his own blood, takes it all away.

Why are they crying? Why are they hiding away from him? Trying to reach MC’s corpse despite Lucifer’s words or Beel’s grabbing hands, screaming in terror when uncle Mammon doesn’t answer their questions.

Then MC reappears, looking as perfect as ever, and Belphie is overwhelmed with relief, convinced that maybe his kid will stop looking at him that way.

But that doesn’t happen.

He sleeps with Beel that night, feeling lonelier than ever, hands aching and reaching for a smaller body that isn't there. He can’t find them in their dreams when he falls asleep and when morning arrives and he goes to the bathroom, he makes sure there’s no blood under his fingernails.

It takes days before his kid can even look at him without that angry pout on their face. They tell him they’ve been sleeping with MC, listening to their advice so they can mend their relationship with him.

Ever since then, Belphie can’t help but blush whenever MC is in the room.

Tagging: @deepestartisanhumanoidshark

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me x gender neutral reader

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hard-core-super-star · 5 months

Text

bare your soul 'til it's naked [C.Danvers]

pairing: sub!carol danvers x dom!reader

summary: you and carol experiment with switching up your usual roles and accidentally discover something new.

warnings: SMUT -> minors, don't look [porn with feelings; bondage; strap-on sex; an exploration of carol's submissive side; strapwarming; a dash of denial; carol's praise kink goes brr; captain kink because duh]

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: no, i didn't disappear for like all of november, what are you talking about?? anywho, this happened and...i have no reason or explanation for it lmao. also, i'm not even going to pretend to be an expert on dom/sub dynamics but just labeling carol as a bottom felt wrong considering the more...intense route this took. ANYWAY, usual,"this is my first time writing for this character, please give me validation if you liked it," warning applies.

* * * * * * *

It had started as a joke.

You had told Carol how unfair it was that her superhuman abilities always led to her overpowering you after she had effortlessly picked you up and plopped you down onto the couch to stop you from washing the dishes. It had been an almost nonsensical joke that the blonde took a little too seriously.

It’s not something that genuinely bothers you, in fact, you love how quick Carol always is to pick you up and carry you everywhere. However, you had mentioned how much you’d love to have a turn at being in charge for once and your girlfriend took it upon herself to give you exactly what you wanted. (Like usual)

You weren’t sure why she was so dead set on doing this, especially considering how much she loves having the upper hand all the time, and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her to change her mind. Mainly because you’d have to be an actual fool to deny her anything but also because there’s been a look in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher that was born from the mere thought of switching roles for once.

So, your one meaningless joke had earned you a sight you’d never thought you’d see: Carol Danvers naked and bound on your bed.

It should be ridiculous. She’s a goddamn superhero, for crying out loud, she could easily rip apart those ropes like nothing. And yet…she remains motionless. You’d go far enough to call her stoic if it weren’t for the smirk she hasn’t yet wiped off of her face.

You both know the massive amounts of power she holds inside herself and she still chooses to pretend. To give in to the fantasy. To act like you truly hold all the cards when she’s the one with literal superpowers.

Your girlfriend huffs as she watches you admire her toned body and the intricate knots that hold her in place. She’s been sitting in the same position for what feels like hours, with her hands tied around her back and her legs spread open, showing off the strap attached to her hips.

“You gonna do something or just stare?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” you reply, shamelessly staring at her jawline while she throws her head back and groans.

“I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t touch me right now.”

You’re tempted to just walk away like she’s done to you countless times but you have other, more important, ideas on your mind.

You approach her in two quick steps, smiling at the way her eyes literally light up before tangling your fingers in her blonde hair and gently pulling. You’re rewarded with the sound of her gasp and you can practically see the way her veins pop out as she clenches her fists.

“I think you’re forgetting our deal, Captain,” you whisper. “I’m in charge, you just have to sit there and behave.”

She lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds. You don't know if it's the hair-pulling or the use of the title that affects her so much but it’s obvious her reluctance melts away in an instant…which means your need to have her begging for you increases tenfold in that same instant.

“Are you going to need a reminder, baby?”

A long second of silence goes by before your girlfriend gives in. You’re more than willing to wait for her, especially once her eyes open again and you’re able to make out the specks of bliss that make her eyes sparkle more than usual. “No…I’ll behave.”

“Good girl,” you hum.

The whine that escapes her doesn’t reach your ears but the way her hips buck is more than noticeable and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out and wrapping your hand around the large toy. The fact that it’s fake doesn’t stop Carol from thrusting into your hand and she looks far too good for you to even think about making her stop.

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to tease her, though.

“Are you needy already, babe? I haven’t even done anything.”

“Maybe that’s why,” she replies, attempting to hold on to some of her usual snarkiness.

Something that would be more effective if she wasn’t bucking her hips in search of some friction.

The calm and controlled persona she so easily wears out on the field starts to slip and with it comes the barrage of thoughts that never allow her to give up control. It’s subtle but the sparkle in her eyes can’t erase the furrowing of her eyebrows or the tension in her muscles.

That desperation that makes her thrust up into your hand isn’t unfamiliar. Her need to give in to it is.

So, you do the only thing you know will help her focus on the moment instead of on her unspoken fears.

“Carol.” Her name leaves your lips as a mere whisper, the grip you have on her hair loosening just enough for the change to register in her unfocused mind.

She takes a deep breath before lifting her eyes up to look at you. You expect her to pull the plug on this whole thing, to put her walls back up and call it a day, but she doesn't. She does the exact opposite and leaves your mind spinning in the process.

“I need you.” The hushed tone she speaks in does nothing to hide her desperation. It’s not the kind you’re used to, though. It’s less about the physical and more about the emotional. It’s about the stability she’s always looked for but has never found in all the countless planets she’s visited.

The only place she’s found it in all her life is with you.

The second the thought enters your mind, you climb onto her lap, momentarily forgetting about the new dynamic you're forging and merely focusing on your vulnerable girlfriend. Despite your urge to help ground her, you can’t help but notice the way her hips instantly buck once again.

You still decide to wait, though, much to the blonde’s dismay.

“What do you need from me, Captain?”

“Need you…” She trails off and you half expect that to be the end of it until she continues a second later. “Need you to own me…use me…please.”

There’s no doubt in your mind of the strength it took for her to get the words out which only adds fuel to the fire burning in your core. A fire made up of desire, trust, and so much lust it could fill a small planet.

“As you wish,” you mumble before finally giving both of you what you really want.

Carol’s eyes watch you closely while you grip the toy attached to her hips and slowly tease your entrance with it. She technically can’t feel anything yet but she still takes every second in, rotating her hips in an attempt to bring you as much pleasure as she can.

You leave the dildo soaked in less than a minute and the sight of your girlfriend’s abs contracting with every movement does nothing to satisfy your growing desire. Your body shifts until you’re hovering over Carol’s dark blue strap, pretending like you can’t see the way she attempts to slam herself inside your already fluttering walls.

“You wanna fill me up, Captain? Is that what my good girl wants?”

It’s like a switch is instantly flipped inside her brain. Like everything else disappears until she’s left hanging onto your every word. She’s never been like this with someone else, much less felt like this. Felt such an intense devotion that she genuinely longs to submit to every one of your wishes and commands.

You could tell her to jump and she’d leap into the air without a second thought, ropes be damned.

She nods rapidly. “Yes! Yes, I want to fill you up so bad. Please, y/n.”

“If only your little Avengers friends could see you now, all tied up and desperate for me…” You trail off as you sink down onto her, relishing in the unashamed moans she can’t hold back.

You know how much she loves fucking you in this position and you also know how crazy it’s making her that she can’t control your speed. She can’t control anything in this moment. Not the speed of your movements, not the sounds she makes, not the unrelenting bucking of her hips.

The power rests in your hands despite how much of it runs through her veins.

“Fuck-” Your groan brings her back to reality. “You’re so good for me.”

Carol stares at you with wide eyes, plump lips parted just enough to allow all her sinful sounds to slip out unrestricted. Her entire world revolves around you, around the pleasure only she can give you…even when she's not allowed to touch you.

It would be so easy for her to break free, you both know that, and yet somehow, her choosing to remain trapped beneath you makes everything feel ten times stronger than usual.

Maybe that's what makes the coil in your stomach tighten faster than usual or maybe it's the way the blonde can't stop herself from messily thrusting up into your drenched cunt and burying her strap inside of you.

You’re both lost in each other, your nails digging into her shoulder in search of some stability while she works tirelessly to bring you to new heights. Heights she couldn’t even dream of reaching despite her love for flying.

“y/n,” she mumbles. “Please, I want- I need you.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum already, Captain?”

She shakes her head, the thinnest layer of tears gathering in her stormy eyes. “No, I want to make you cum. Please, can I?”

The mere question has you clenching around the toy but it’s the devoted look that’s plastered onto her face that makes you fall apart. For that brief moment, she’s not Captain Marvel, she’s not an Avenger, she’s just the woman you love more than anything else in the universe, the woman who loves you enough to trust you like this.

You fall over the edge without warning which triggers an avalanche of feelings inside Carol. The two of you slump into each other in a mess of shaking limbs and hoarse voices that cry out the other’s name.

It’s messy and loud and perfect.

It’s unclear how much time you both spend in the throes of your powerful orgasms but when you finally come back to yourself, you find your girlfriend’s face buried into the crook of your neck, trails of salty tears staining her warm cheeks. It takes you another second to realize what she’s mumbling but the second the words register, all your worry melts away.

“I love you-” It comes out more like a broken sob than a beautiful confession but you don’t mind.

You gently run your fingers through her messy hair, silently watching the shudders that your affection creates. “I love you too. You’re perfect, Carol.”

She doesn’t reply but she also doesn’t argue. She just stays in your arms, basking in the feeling of being loved.

Of finally being home.

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hadesrise · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄.

part one — part two

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. the wayne family witness how you handle jason’s trauma.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. jason todd x addams!male reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. sfw content, foul language, trauma, nightmares, mentions of torture, typical addams behavior (dark, edgy, gothic, disturbing behavior), romantic, death threats, soft addams!reader, mentions of a very dark and gruesome fictional book, dealing with trauma, fluff, lots of fluff, everything’s just soft

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. can't help it, i really enjoy writing addams!reader content. honestly, it's kinda getting old but i guess this will be the last one??? or one more and then i'll end its endless cycle?? anyway, if y'all have any recommended translation apps it'll be nice to know. don't wanna trust google translate that much.

FEM ALIGNED DNI !!

“Why are you awake so early in the morning?”

Bruce’s slightly raspy morning voice interrupts the silent reading you had indulged yourself in, barely reacting at his sudden presence despite the fact you failed to notice him from how focused you were on your book.

You glanced at him only for a split second before your eyes went back to reading again, “I prefer the quietness of your manor in the morning for a quick read. Although, I must say the bright sun is such a terrible sight. It nearly burned me as soon as my consciousness awakened.” As you replied casually, Bruce took notice of how the curtains are closed completely shut to block the sunlight from entering, as if getting even a little bit of it would burn you like a vampire. Well, you did look like a vampire because of how pale and ghostly your skin is as well as the all black, gothic medieval or victorian outfit.

Bruce still wasn’t used to your unique culture, ancient speech and intimidating presence, but had learned not to be too bothered by it ever since you and Jason began visiting the Manor often. He didn’t want to waste energy by constantly reacting to any unusual traits you displayed, and he’s been successful so far. Even though he still doesn’t agree with your morals, he knew not to argue with you like before, since you’ve been nothing but respectful to him everytime you set foot in the manor.

Raising one of his eyebrows, Bruce tilts his head. “Do you always read?”

“Yes, indeed.” Came your immediate response. “Books are what defines me, Mr. Wayne. My soul is practically attached to it.”

“Is that why you always carry a book with you?” Stephanie suddenly chimes in out of nowhere with Tim behind her, curiosity plastered across her face. You nodded, glancing up to see Damian sit down on the other sofa while playing a brutal game that occasionally makes a blood splattering sound.

Bruce sighs, “And why are you all awake so early?”

Tim looks at him weirdly, “It’s already eleven o’clock. Almost lunch time, you know.” Deadpanning, he then leans in from behind to get a glimpse of what you were reading, only to cringe slightly after his eyes read a particular sentence; The flesh muscles of his legs were torn off, almost as if it had been ripped open by a lion, exposing bones with blood uncontrollably flooding out. It’s definitely one of those horror books who has unnecessary amount of gore. “What in the hell are you reading?”

“Bloodthirst by Clementine.” You sipped on a black coffee before continuing, “Wherein the main character becomes bloodthirsty for revenge after his lover had been abducted and mutilated by a group of serial killers. The sentence you’ve read is one of his acts of revenge which includes a pack of wolves.” The corner of your mouth twitched up a bit, looking up at him with that glint in your eyes. “It has a pleasantly satisfying plotline.”

Disturbed and quite freaked out, Tim exchanges eye contact with Bruce and pressed his lips together. “That is... uhm, interesting.” Amusement merely crosses your face before it instantly went back to your usual emotionless expression.

They still haven’t gotten used to the extremely calm demeanor you had because of how most of them grew up not having a quiet presence in the manor, even Cassandra wasn’t as silent as you before. You’re the only calm and fully collected person they’ve ever met, coming off as rather intimidating due to your piercing gaze, emotionless face, wiser-than-thou mind, and utmost patience. Especially the patience one, because most of them were either short-tempered or just born enraged. Sometimes, they get intimidated without you even speaking — once, you and Jason reluctantly joined them to a grand event and someone made an utterly horrible decision to insult Jason by comparing him to the “well-behaved” eldest son Dick, which resulted in you shooting them a piercing, dark, cold and harsh glare not even a second after that instantly made them freeze in spot. That look in your eyes alone made their blood run cold and face pale.

Needless to say, they regretted insulting Jason as quick as the wind blows, but that story’s for another time.

“Where’s Dick? Did he sleep at Barbara’s?” Stephanie wondered, realizing the lack of annoying presence.

“Nope!” An all too cheerful voice in the morning pipes up as Dick appeared with a big smile on his face. He quickly noticed you reading a book and approached, “Reading a dark book again? Where’s Jay?”

“There’s only an obvious answer to an already obvious question, Richard.” Retorting without sparing him a glance, you flipped the page and earned a snicker from Damian. “He will be walking down the stairs soon. Sois patient, frère.”

Dick replies an ‘okay’ before jumping on the couch Damian was sitting on, deciding to annoy his youngest brother instead. Shaking your head with the corner of your mouth twitching up only barely, you focused on reading your book again despite the peaceful silence being broken by their chattering, although it didn’t take long before you averted your gaze and stared at the ceiling, as if feeling something wrong.

Damian notices. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t speak right away. Just staring up like something was there, which also made the others look up in attempt to figure out what you were doing.

“Jason is not sleeping well,” You finally stated, not looking away from the ceiling. “Humans often radiate different energy depending on their mental state, which makes it easier to specifically identify what their current emotions or moods are. It can be felt if you concentrate enough. Jason’s energy has been much peaceful ever since I’ve tormented Joker. It is supposed to stay as that.”

“What do you feel now?” Cassandra asked worriedly, her body leaned back against the wall.

“He’s distressed.” You concluded, shutting the book close without bothering to slip a bookmark on the page, which she noticed quickly. She reads with you a lot and had never seen you close a book without bookmarking it; books are absolute treasures for you, but not as much as Jason now.

Confusion took over Tim’s face as you set your book down and drink your black coffee in one go, “How do you know?”

“There is not one thing I don’t know about Jason.” You remarked nonchalantly, like it’s how it should be. You just knew Jason well enough to understand him more than anyone else, even more than himself sometimes.

Before you could stand up from the couch, a footstep erupts from the top of the stairs and comes Jason slowly walking down, wrapped around in a blanket and thick arms hugging his body, making himself as small as possible despite his large frame. “(Y-Y/n)...?” His voice was thick and hoarse, as if he had been crying, as he stuttered and looked for you like a lost child.

You quickly got up from the couch and walked up to him when he stopped in the middle of the stairs. “Come here, darling.” Jason doesn’t hesitate to drop the blanket and wrap his arms around your neck, clinging onto you for dear life. Slipping your hands on the back of his thighs, you lifted him up with ease and returned to the couch, sitting down sideways so Jason could lay on top of you, just how he liked.

“Horrible...” Jason murmured, face buried in your chest. “Horrible, all of ‘em. It hurts. Everything hurts.”

You frown, although your face had the softest look anyone had ever seen as you gently stroke his back, still having him caged in your arms. “Terrifying dream, was it?” You asked, earning a nod.

“ ‘m scared...” Jason breathes shakily, “I’m still there... Still hurts. Too dark. Cold. He’s still laughing. Hurts, it hurts.” He blabbered, words repeating over and over again, and breath increasingly becoming rapid as panic begins to slowly build up inside him. His entire body was trembling, sobs wreck through his body.

Everyone except you was at lost for words.

Jason seemed... weak and fragile. A cracked glass that can easily break with just one touch. Had Jason been suffering like this all this time? It felt as if Bruce was bludgeoned by a brick in the form of realization, opening his eyes to how the events with Joker truly affected Jason. He was obviously and clearly traumatized (who the fuck wouldn’t be?), but this is the first time everyone had actually witnessed the trauma, considering Jason refused to be vulnerable in front of them.

“Shh... Open your eyes, chéri. Look into mine and breathe slowly,” You gently instructed, rubbing his back in a soothing manner and muttering encouragements. Jason does as he’s told and open his eyes, staring into your calm and comforting (e/c) eyes while attempting to slow down his breathing. “Doing so excellent, mon amour. Breathe in and out, slowly. Good boy. You do not have to rush yourself.” The soft tone of your voice bringing him a sense of safety.

Once he’s calmed down, you slowly hold his hand and squeeze to provide warmth, hugging him tighter with one arm. “Can you tell me where you are and who you’re with right now?”

Jason squeezed back, little tears still running down his cheeks. “T-the Wayne Manor... With—with you... A-and Bruce, and Dick... Tim... Damian... C-Cass and Steph...” His gaze focusing on your encouraging eyes, his mind slowly detached from the nightmare it was drowning itself in.

“Good boy, sweetheart.” You kissed his forehead, “Is it still dark?” Jason shakes his head. “What about coldness? Am I succeeding in warming you up?” He nods this time. You smile, running your hand through his hair. “Be not afraid, Jason. Darkness will not consume your mind forever, although it is a part of our lives. You might remain afraid of the excessive trauma for years, but being afraid of it does not mean you will be chained eternally, and neither does it mean you are weak nor easily destructible. You’ve bravely fought a war within yourself. I know you will be able to defeat the nightmare someday.”

Jason sniffles, “Do you think I’m healing?”

“Yes, very slowly, as how healing process should be.” You stroked his cheek, “Trauma comes with nightmares. It especially shows when you are doing well so it could test your strength, whether you’ll be able to overcome. But it can never defeat you; it only knows to cause pain, agony, and fear. You know love, joy, compassion, and empathy. It is what make us humans that defeats the monsters.”

He curled up against you, “Just want it to be over. I feel less like myself.”

“You are not bounded to your trauma for all eternal, chéri. It does not define who and what you are, and it certainly does not make you any less.” You softly replied. “Never doubt yourself, my love. Healing cannot be completed within a day, it takes more than few years and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Biting his lip, Jason rests his chin on your chest. “You’ll get fucking tired dealing with me. Your patience might not be able to handle it.”

“I cannot get tired of you. Not when you hate pastels too.” Jason chuckles at your joke, the mood surely lightening. “And do not speak as if you don’t know me, Jason. There is no such thing as might not be able to handle it in my vocabulary when it is you. I love you too much. If I cannot handle anything that involves you and matters about you, then my love for you will mean nothing but dishonorable. The two of us definitely have knowledge of how I would rather decapitate myself than offer you a half-hearted love.”

Jason’s heart swell as the back of his eyes sting again, tears threatening to come out. He knew how difficult it is to be with someone as much trauma as he has, which made him live in fear of you getting tired and leaving one day, even though you’ve assured him more than a hundred times. He knew he was difficult to be with even without the trauma, yet you willingly giftwrap your heart to offer to him while simultaneously providing him with the understanding he deserved. You accepted him along with his trauma. Nobody knows how special that feels.

Cassandra and Stephanie sat on the carpet near the couch where you two laid, so they could check up on Jason. The others had scooted closer as they watch you comfort him nearly expertly.

“Can still feel it, (Y/n).” Jason snuggles on your chest, “The crowbar. It’s still hitting me.”

You gently pull his hand to see his arm that was littered in autopsy scars, some little and some a bit big. Caressing them, you press a lingering kiss. “It was just a fragrance of your memory, beloved. You are safe now, I will keep you protected for as long as I am here. No crowbars.”

Jason nods and looks up at you, puckering his lips. You immediately kiss him, then pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I know he can’t touch me anymore. You already tortured him enough.” He smiled and wiped off his tears.

You pat his head and hug him closer, “Everything will be alright someday. Would you like a hot chocolate with marshmallows on top? I’ll cook you breakfast as well.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Jason whispers.

You slowly slip out from under him, making sure he’s laying down comfortably before fetching the blanket he dropped and wrapping it around him, muttering an i’ll be right back. Watching you disappear into the kitchen, Jason sighs in content and curls up on the couch, still feeling vulnerable but not worse. Stephanie smiles softly at him as Dick walks over to sit beside her, ruffling Jason’s hair.

“You’ll be fine soon, little bird.”

Jason only nodded. The first time he didn’t scoff nor bark, indicating he still can’t forget the nightmare he had.

Soon, his other brothers joined Dick while Bruce sits on the couch beside Jason, looking regretful and apologetic with a frown. Witnessing the amount of trauma Jason has to endure even after many years dropped an equal amount of realization within the family, even though they knew he was traumatized. They just didn’t know the extent to it, and seeing it unfold before them had made them realize they hadn’t been supportive or doing enough for Jason when they should’ve known how much trauma torture and murder would cause. He literally died and came back to life — it’s impossible to not carry a lifelong trauma that greatly affects his personality and attitude; the utmost rage and murderous desires he displayed before might have just been his coping mechanism until meeting you, who quickly became his comfort and calmness.

Nearly most of them had guilt written in their faces due to feeling as if they had been invalidating Jason’s trauma, especially Bruce who did not deal with the entire thing well and had failed to show Jason he cared even though he did more than the son could ever know.

Once again, you beat him to it.

“He cares about you so much, doesn’t he?” Bruce quietly and rhetorically questioned.

Jason nodded happily, “A little too much sometimes. (Y/n)’s always careful and calm, but he gets reckless when it’s about me. Like that Joker thing.” He chuckles, “He said fucker didn’t even have time to laugh.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched up only to disappear, the guilty look still staying. He breathes in and out slowly, causing Jason to look at him questioningly as Bruce avoided eye contact. “Jason, I... uh — I’m sorry. I’m sorry If you ever felt invalidated or unloved by me. I had been so focused on my morality that I failed to show you I cared for you. I really do, Jason. Just maybe not the way you were expecting me to show it.” He carefully says as to not trigger anything in his son.

Pulsing his lip, Jason shakes his head and reached out to play with Bruce’s hand. Bruce seem surprised, but let him nonetheless. “Mhm,” He hums, “It’s okay. I was just angry and hurt... You didn’t look for me enough, and there’s suddenly a new Robin, so... I thought you forgot about me. I couldn’t accept that you seemed to move on so easily.”

Bruce’s heart clenches. “That’s not true, son.”

“I can see that now. I was too bitter and angry, it made me blind.” The broken boy smiles a bit in an attempt to reassure him. “It’s not your fault I turned out like this and ruin everything, you know.” He sadly says, looking down.

The older Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t ruin everything, Jason. You were coping and still coping with what you went through. (Y/n) was right when he said healing takes time.”

Letting go of his hand, Jason instead fidgeted his own fingers now with a sad pout. A little child-like. “But you gave up on me. I know I’m difficult. It’s why you normally can’t deal with me and we always end up arguing. And I was a failure ‘cause I died easily as a Robin.” His voice was slightly high-pitched and trembling. It reminded Bruce again of a child.

Immediately shaking his head, he grasped Jason’s fidgeting hand and firmly looks at him. “You were never a failure, Jason. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You did everything you could. What I can’t forgive is that I let you die as Robin and not as Jason Todd. I can’t forgive myself for being too late to save you. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing’s your fault, son.”

He pulls him into a hug, which caused Jason to breakdown as he clings onto Bruce and cries his heart out. Embracing him tightly, Bruce kept stroking his back for comfort. The others watched silently with a sad smile, knowing both of them wanted to reconcile for a long time but was too hesitant to do so. It made them happy yet emotional at the same time, Dick and Stephanie already having tearful eyes.

“It truly feels upsetting to ruin this wonderful moment, but I’ve got to feed Jason. May I?” Your calm voice erupted, just then everyone noticing your presence standing at the side of the couch. Bruce chuckles and pulled away, sitting down on the carpet instead so you could take his place. You nodded appreciatively before taking a seat.

Jason sits up, accepting the hot chocolate from you with both hands and sipping it. You ruffle his hair gently.

“His age mentality regresses when the nightmare’s been too severe,” You explained what Bruce was wondering. “It is one of his responses to trauma. I believe it’s the inner child coming out, attempting to relive again.”

“How long?” Dick asked.

“About an hour.” You take the mug from Jason and set it on the table as you begin to cut a bite sized piece from the pancakes to feed your lover. “He has the desire of being taken cared of and I intend to fulfill it. Mother and father takes care of him once in a while when it happens in our Addams home.”

“Mom and dad takes me shopping. It’s fun.” Jason remarked, grinning.

“Shall we buy you some dead flowers, chéri? And a new gun, perhaps. Would you like that?” You caressed his cheek while feeding him with the other, Jason leaning his face on your palm.

“Yeah, I’d love that. Love you, (Y/n).”

“I adore you too, my love.” You kissed the tip of his nose, which caused him to erupt into a fit of giggles as you feed him again.

After Jason had fallen asleep peacefully on the couch, you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh deeply in attempt to calm yourself down. Seeing Jason struggle with trauma is not easy, especially when he’s far too scarred mentally that it causes mental age regression. It also probably came from the fact he had never lived a peaceful life even before meeting Bruce, losing his childhood by witnessing the harsh reality at such a young age, and having to stop being a child after becoming Robin.

You had utmost patience, but when something affects Jason greatly like this, you often tend to lose calmness and be overwhelmed with rage and bloodthirst. If you could take all his pain away and those painful memories, you’ve already done it. You would give up anything for Jason to not struggle with the torment of his torture and murder — you will give up everything for him.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” Tim asked worriedly, feeling your atmosphere change.

“I wouldn’t call blood boiling with rage okay.” You muttered murderously as your dark eyes glared daggers at the carpeted floor. “Joker is already encaged and chained down within the cells of Arkham Asylum, but the aftermath of his vile actions still haunts and torments the victims who have gone through survival. Trauma is inescapable, including fear of the perpetrator. Their spirits won’t rest peacefully, alive or dead, while his existence still roam the Earth.”

The way you spat with utmost disgust and anger was now understandable, as well as your nearly inexcusable actions committed before. You witness this side of Jason more often than they do. It’s already unbearable even for them, what more for you who takes precious care of him?

Suddenly, Bruce comes to understand your morals. Why you do what you do, why you believe what you believe.

“May I ask you to take care of him while I’m out, Mr. Wayne?” You asked, voice thick, clearly grounding yourself to your humanity.

Bruce nods, for the first time. “Yes, now go do what you want to do.”

You smiled, immediately standing up and wearing your coat before rushing off the manor.

Cassandra shakes her head with a smile as Damian looked at his father with a smirk, “He might kill him, you know.”

Bruce just shrugged.

“Well,” Stephanie sighs, “Can’t stop (Y/n) from going on a rampage against the Joker. He deserves what’s coming for him anyway.”

Few hours later, Jason wakes up to the news of Arkham Asylum increasing its security due to an unknown attack against Joker that left him barely alive, and you casually reading a book with pleased and prideful look. It doesn’t take him long to figure things out and tackle you in a hug, leaving kisses all over your face.

Joker’s probably going to have nightmares about you, but he deserves what’s coming for him, doesn’t he?

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?

NOTE: This takes place after the movie

........

"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"

"Abby, don't go too far!"

"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.

She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.

Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.

Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.

Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.

But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.

You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.

Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).

He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.

He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.

It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.

When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.

And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".

Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.

While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.

"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."

"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.

Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-

"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"

"...look both ways before I cross the street?"

"Exactly."

Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"

You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.

"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.

"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"

"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.

"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"

She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.

But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."

"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."

"I think we all deserve a good one."

Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:

A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.

It's good to see that she had not forgotten.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #mike schmidt x reader #fluff #halloween

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sleeplesssmoll · 5 months

Text

Vertin's personality and traits based on in-game context.

Contains Spoilers.

Will update when I find more tidbits about our beloved Timekeeper.

Updated: March 15 2024

Vertin sucks at math.

Not much to say here. Although, this is another difference between her and Sonetto, who loves math. I hope they do something with this later because it'd be fun.

Vertin is 16 confirmed

While this isn't a personality trait, I did see some debate about her age since it wasn't officials stated until now and it was assumed through context. Prisoner in the Cave explicitly confirms her age. Vertin became Timekeeper when she was 12 and has been the the TK for the past 4 years.

Vertin is a pianist and a painter.

You can see a piano in the back of her office in the Suitcase by the window. It makes sense in regards to Vertin's musically inclined Arcanum. There's an easel and stool in her office too. She doesn't merely collect art, she creates it. Vertin also owns a camera (official artwork released) too and mentions her photography in the begining, so this isn't new but I thought I should add it.

Vertin's still playful under all her composure.

We know baby Vertin was a little menace, but we can still see a spark of that mischief in her later years. For example, Vertin slapping a fake mustache on Regulus to avoid Sonetto really captures this. We can tell from other characters' voice lines that Vertin will most likely play along with their shenanigans. She'll chirp like a bird in response to Rabies talking about his bird friends (Wilderness interaction). She'll help Sonetto during hide and seek (Wilderness). She watches movies with Eternity and An An Lee. X asks her for help with his projects. Going through her crew's voice lines really paints a better picture of how she interacts with others. The voice lines point to someone playful and curious when she's not in work mode.

Vertin was a gremlin.

Vertin's love language is giving.

We know baby Vertin loved to give gifts to a reluctant Sonetto, but that part of her still exists. She tried to grant everyone's last wishes during the 1929 Storm. We also know she gives Lilya alcohol as a gift upon her return from 1929. She is also very direct. We see her ask people what they want or what can she do for them throughout the story. To expand further, you could say she likes fulfilling people's desires instead of limiting it to material gifts. We can see more of instances of this during the Green Lake event, especially in the way she protects Jessica from the Foundation. She also tried to get Regulus funding for a ship. I love the Suitcase Dad meme, but it's rooted in nuggets of truth.

She was a crappy student, yet she was also a resourceful gremiln. Vertin never liked the institution! Honor student? Top of the class? Never. Teachers are filled with that "Godamnit Vertin" energy toward her too. I hope we see more gremlin energy in the future.

One-sided childhood friends.

Vertin is a collector.

Sonetto and Vertin were desk mates but Sonetto couldn't stand Vertin when they were kids. She even tried to avoid Vertin at times but Vertin persisted with her gifts. We can see this in the hallway scene. Sonetto's about to change routes to avoid Vertin but Vertin called out to her to give her a frog she caught. Kinda funny how Sonetto can't stand Vertin but also can't resist her when they were kids. Vertin and Matilda were actually closer back then. Well, at least until the tear gas incident. Sonetto changed after Vertin was hurt and the rascal wasn't around to bother her. I feel like this tidbit says a lot about Vertin and her influence on people.

Baby Vertin collected rocks, bugs, and frogs. Adult Vertin collects painting and mementos of people she's lost. Things were simpler as a kid.

Vertin is stronger than she looks.

She was a wild child and she's still got it years later. Vertin can run for long periods of time, endure injuries, and climb obstacles. That, and she's still essentially a child solider. We see her hold her own when she needs to fight solo doing stuff like dodging bullets. Sonetto and Matilda also exhibit these freakishly athletic traits, especially Sonetto.

Vertin befriends people in every Era, despite knowing she'll lose them.

Compared to the other children raised by the Foundation, Vertin's traveled the world and witnessed loss in every Era. This opens doors to a whole new set of questions. How did she change over time? How do the Arcanists she recruited before the story treat her? Did she have crushes in previous Eras? Were the oranges just as bitter? Vertin seems to get close to people very easily and doesn't build walls around herself despite the trauma. You'd think someone who's lost so much would stop trying to get close to people, but she doesn't.

Vertin is optimistic.

Even as a child, she was full of hope. It's why she fights for the future and is a core part of her personality. She needs to fight for all those she lost and stop the Storm from taking more lives.

Vertin gets quiet when embarrassed/shy.

She'll blush and fall silent, but she doesn't stammer or go all tsundere. We can see this in voice lines. Sonetto's high praises make her cover her face with her hands. Eternity gets a reaction out of her when she holds her hand. She also blushed when she received surprise smooch and fell silent.

Vertin has a unique scar on her back.

Vertin is a tactile person.

Arcana mentions the scar after Vertin was shot multiple times in the back by Schneider. It's a big scar and new theories about the scar are ongoing and interesting!

In several voice line interactions, Vertin is patting people's heads or holding their hands. Not all her crew mates are on board with it, some seem confused, and others play along. We can also see examples in story like her handing Sonetto a frog while gently grasping her hand or her taking Regulus's hand to lead her into the Suitcase. Here is a post with the evidence to back this claim.

Vertin sucks at arcanum but her deep understanding of arcanum is uncanny.

The story mentions her weak arcanum skills throughout the story. They really want you to remember this. Also, her arcanum didn't manifest until sometime after the break away event but before the events in the prologue. During her stay in the guardhouse, she doubts if she's even an arcanist and mentions her arcanum has yet to manifest, which is wild. Smoltin is fighting with her tiny hands and wit in this chapter. However, in the prologue it's mentioned Vertin's understanding of arcanum and her perception makes her unique amongst arcanists. She's also considered more "rationale" than other arcanists. You can read more about this here.

Vertin is stealthy.

Smoltin sneaks around to play outside. She steals food for herself and the Ring from the Staff Canteen, which has better quality food than what the kids get. This tells me she's done this before. Adult Vertin also sneaks around the Walden to find Schneider. She makes maps, tracks guard routes, and avoids detection since whe was a kid.

Tooth Fairy was one of the few Foundation members who cared about Vertin.

Tooth Fairy is the one who gave Smoltin the toffees (chit chat voicelines). She also covered for Vertin on a few occasions to protect her from punishment. She remembers Vertin faking her illness to skip class, but her bruises and wounds were real. The Foundation does have a few kind hearts that genuinely care about the children. The causes of Vertin's injuries is up to speculation.

#reverse 1999 #vertin #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 spoiler #spoilers #timekeeper #long post

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doobea · 6 months

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BORN TO MAKE HISTORY - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: After his brother takes a nasty fall and calls out before the new season starts, Rin has to step up as your new figure skating partner.

✰ ✰ ✰જ⁀➴ PLAYLIST.

contents: an ice skating au fic (very much yuri on ice inspired), fem!reader, ice skating terms and irl figures thrown around but not that super important, lmao probably inaccurate depictions of figure skating, sfw, kinda enemies to lovers but its really just rin being anti-social and cold, sae is a decent brother in here, characters are in their early-mid 20s, talks about ISU grand prix, mentions of mental health (depression, anxiety, burn out, imposter syndrome), heavy narration, rin centric, multiple parts will be added but no set scheduling of course word count: 4.3K (sigh there will be more) a/n: you know... whenever i feel like i hit a writer's block... thinking about rin always helps me break out of it so thank u...

For as long as Rin can remember, he's always followed in his brother's footsteps.

Whatever that meant being interested in the same shows, books, and sometimes even hobbies, Rin would always be one step behind. It was a long-time habit that he picked up ever since he was little. There was a small running joke that if you wanted to find Rin, all you needed to do was find Sae. If anyone were to ask him why, he would probably shrug and refuse to answer, though his parents would gush on about how much he looks up to his older brother, and… it’s not a complete tall tale.

His brother is talented and not in a ‘he can totally balance a stack of rocks in one try’ type of talented—though Rin is pretty sure that Sae can do that—but in a ‘he’s born with a natural gift to be absolutely perfect at everything he touches’ type of talented. So, regardless if Rin is always one step behind his brother, he knows deep down that it will always be Sae standing on the very top of the podium with a gold medal around his neck.

Sae delved into figure skating at the age of eight, and Rin quickly followed suit. It began on a family night in, the brothers gathered around their small, worn-out television, fixated on the Winter Olympics in muted colors. Although ice skating initially served as mere background noise while their mother knitted, they both felt an undeniable pull.

Rin was only thirteen when he first won silver at his junior debut competition. In that same year, Sae also moved up to the senior-level groups and gave his first professional appearance during the Japan Figure Skating Championships. Unsurprisingly to no one, Sae effortlessly won gold, putting the whole world on notice and overtaking the competition by over 40 points. From that moment forward, Sae was recruited by an international coach and was sent aboard to different training facilities.

It burned in Rin’s memories of all the irregular Facetime calls they would have of Sae giving him a walking tour of the cities he stayed in. New York was too loud and bright. Chongqing felt like something out of a fairytale and a cyberpunk city at the same time. Saint Petersburg was too cold but Sae liked grabbing pirozhki from a street food vendor before practice every morning. Despite being only two years older, he sometimes felt like he was worlds away from his brother’s place.

Still, after everything, Rin looks up to him. It doesn’t bother Rin that he’s always ‘second best’—according to those poorly written sports magazines—because this is something they can bond over, something that only they can understand.

And maybe this is Rin’s motivation to eventually surpass him.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t go exactly how he imagines it.

“You’re going to sub in for me.”

Sae is sitting up on his bed, his right leg bandaged tightly all the way up to his knee, and he’s saying this with his usual straight-laced expression. Their mother has always complained about being unable to read Sae’s emotions and Rin always thought it was pretty amusing growing up. But now, he finally understands what his mother was talking about.

Rin straightens his back in his seat, a colorful plastic chair from their childhood that’s now too small for a person his size, and almost drops his phone. “Did you hit your head too?”

His brother rolls his eyes and continues, “I know you’re taking a break this season but I promised one of my juniors that I would compete with them. Luckily,” and he points to his injured leg, “this isn’t a permanent issue but I think it’ll also be good for you.”

Sae’s injury happened during practice overseas at a training facility in Madrid. It’s a mild ankle and knee sprain from overexertion and stress factors from jumping too often. He was treated briefly before their parents suggested flying back to Japan to fully recover. It’s not uncommon for skaters to suffer from these types of injuries but why does Sae feel the need to bring Rin into this?

During last year’s Grand Prix Final, Rin had barely finished in the top ten. He fumbled with his short program and free skate, failed to land his quad jumps three times, and had a sloppy step sequence, both of which were supposed to be his strong suits. That day, he didn’t bother joining his coach at the kiss and tell, ignored all the swarming paparazzi self-proclaimed journalists, and uninstalled every social media app on his phone. His fans, coaches, and his family were all concerned as to how someone like him was able to fall that low compared to his higher-than-average stats. Rin had blamed it on something he can’t even remember, maybe a stomach bug, he thinks.

Obviously, that wasn’t the case, everyone could see right through the lie but not entirely the truth of it. News outlets flooded the market with headlines shaming him for not living up to his older brother’s standards, not being a good representative for his nation, and that it was all karma for having an ‘unbearable’ personality to work with. His coaches retired after his flimsy performance and all but two of his sponsorships dropped him. Rin hasn’t officially given out a statement regarding anything.

Depression is a hell of a thing to deal with. Rin’s dealt with it in the past when Sae first moved aboard. Luckily, Sae is perceptive to this kind of thing. The daily calls helped, despite the harsh timezone differences, and eventually Rin was able to move past it. The reality of it though, is that depression never really fades away, it’s almost like an addiction. Sometimes it takes hold in a moment of weakness, one that Rin doesn’t even realize he has until it’s too late. Maybe it’s all the rigorous training, all the comparisons to his brother—he tries not to think too much about it.

He didn’t know when the feeling hit him or why it decided to affect him that day.

For the past several months, he’s been spending time gliding around their local ice rink, teaching some kids on the side to keep his mind preoccupied because, if not that, then he’ll probably end up laying in his bed all day. It works and it’s at least a healthy distraction but, at the same time, he can’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest every time someone mentions his last performance.

Rin feels like he’s hit a wall. A thick, towering, uninviting wall. And he doesn’t know if he’s ready to face his baggage yet.

“I’m not going to do that.” He finally answers and watches as his brother’s face stays unfazed.

“I need you to.” Sae presses on. “You need to get out of whatever rut you’re in. You’re not happy and going back might help. Forget about competing in singles and join pairs.”

Sae might be talented in everything else but, like Rin, he’s bad at choosing his words and comforting. Rin knows what he means though and he can’t exactly blame him. He’s lost weight, most of it being muscle, and whenever he does get back from work, Rin holes up in his room playing horror games all night long. Rinse and repeat.

At least there’s a level of concern and sincerity behind Sae’s tone, unlike the vulture-like glee from the tabloid reporters.

“I’m…” Rin’s throat feels heavy all of a sudden and he struggles to find an excuse.

Instead of answering, he fixates his attention back to his phone, it’s a news article about Sae’s injury and his withdrawal from the skating season. The article also has a photo of you posing next to his brother, elbow resting on his shoulder while your other hand raises a peace sign towards the camera. Rin hasn’t heard much about you, not that he actively keeps up with any of his competitors, but Sae has mentioned your name here and there before since you both share the same coach.

From what Rin knows, you started skating around the same age as him. You won a few local competitions and managed a bronze medal in the women’s singles category during the Japan Skating Championships. Supposedly, this year you’re attempting to take a shot at qualifying for the Grand Prix Final for pairs. With Sae out of the picture, Rin really hopes the responsibility doesn’t fall on him.

The look that Sae is currently shooting at him is making him backtrack his thoughts.

“It’ll be good for you,” his brother reiterates. Sae scoots closer to the edge and plucks the phone out of Rin’s grasp. “Plus, I already told her that you would do it.”

Rin’s eyes widen. “You did what?”

Sae hums, and taps his fingers away at the screen, before handing it back to him with your contact information placed in. “She’s actually on her way over here.”

“I haven’t even—”

Sae throws a hand up. “No, you don’t get a choice, Rin.”

Despite being three years younger than Sae, you had no issues barging into his room, suitcase in hand and hair in a frenzy. Rin is still seated, having to process his brother’s ridiculous request and now having to make himself semi-presentable to you. He also eyes the suitcase because… there’s no way that you’re actually staying with them right?

“Hope the flight here wasn’t too rough,” His brother starts casually.

Your cheeks are puffed out, eyes slightly baggy from the presumably restless flight, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “I hope you know that I didn’t tell coach about any of this.”

“Any of what?” Sae asks slowly. Now Rin is internally panicking.

Your eyes fall on him and they sparkle in recognition for a brief moment before you turn your attention back to his brother. “Um, that I flew all the way from Madrid to Tokyo?”

“I thought you said he approved of it.” Sae looks visibly annoyed.

You give a sheepish shrug and try to smile. “Yeah, I might’ve lied a bit.” It looks like you can’t decide if you want to be embarrassed by this fact or want to burst into tears.

Now it’s Sae’s turn to sigh. “Well, you’re already here so there’s no point. I’ll come up with something if Ego asks.”

You’ve made yourself practically at home within the next hour. Sae had told you that you could transform their home office space into your bedroom for the next several months in preparation for the competition, much to Rin’s protests. Right now, your makeshift living space composes of a shitty air mattress that Rin had in his closet since childhood and one of Sae’s extra pillows and blankets. You still need an actual mattress and a bedframe, and Rin doesn’t know if he wants to suggest the local hardware shop down the street. Because, if he does do that, it’ll mean he’ll be accepting his fate for the next upcoming year.

“Are you guys both hungry for dinner? I can whip up something real quick!” You’re saying this as if you’ve been living with them forever. It throws Rin off but Sae is unphased by your informality.

“Pork katsu curry sounds nice.” Sae muses from the living room couch. He’s streaming a figure skating compilation video from the previous Winter Olympics on the TV while jotting down some notes on his phone. “Why don’t you help her out, Rin?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah,” and Sae lifts his eyes away from the screen to give him a knowing look. “You have to.”

Three protein shakes. A pack of half-eaten grapes. And two boxes of forgotten leftovers from god knows how long ago. There’s not much in Rin’s fridge. His parents have been traveling around the world ever since he got back and usually, Rin would just get himself takeout to save some time. When he rummages through his pantry, he almost feels embarrassed by how barren it feels. A box of cup ramen, some curry cubes, and a small bag of rice on the bottom. It would honestly be better just to order takeout than to bother cooking up something less satisfying.

“We should—”

“Let’s go to the store!” Of course, you offer that up. Rin can feel his shoulders immediately tensing when he sees you grabbing your jacket and wallet.

Sae throws him another penetrating gaze and Rin recedes. “Give me a second.” And maybe a drink or two.

You’re the complete opposite of what Rin expected.

Bright, bubbly, and almost downright annoying. It reminds him of how he used to act when he was younger.

The first few minutes of the walk are silent not because Rin doesn’t know what to say but because he doesn’t want to say anything. His mind drifts off to an MMO he’s been currently playing with two of his ‘friends’ that he made during his last competition — if you count only exchanging numbers for the sake of playing games and talking about nothing else. That’s what friends do, right? It’s evening and, if it weren’t for Sae and you, he could be online right now, clearing a dungeon with them. This week is a double drop event and he’s going to miss out on it because you want to buy katsu curry ingredients.

After passing the third block in the neighborhood, you start to see a few local shops and grocery stores lined up down an alleyway. There are more locals around, some are walking their dogs, others sweeping the sides of their house entrances. You decide to take this time to finally talk to him.

“Who’s your favorite skater?” It comes out as a blurt like you’ve been holding it in.

Rin blinks. “What kind of question is that?”

“A normal one,” You pick up a small shopping cart by the entrance and make a beeline towards the produce section. “Plus it can tell you a lot about a person.”

Can it really? “You first then,” Rin tells you.

You answer without much thought, throwing a couple of apples and potatoes into the cart. “Has to be Nathan Chen! He’s super bold and flashy with his programs.” He’s heard of him before, Rin thinks he’s around the same age as his brother.

“Yuzuru Hanyu.” He answers right after.

You make a noise, and Rin assumes it’s a good one by the way you’re smiling. “I can definitely see that, he’s really elegant when he skates.”

The two of you fall silent again but it’s a bit bearable. You finish off by buying pork, onions, and a few soft drinks before heading over to the self-checkout. Rin pays for the entirety of the grocery run since it’s mainly his fault for having an empty fridge. If he had kept up with a healthier lifestyle then maybe he wouldn’t be in this current mess.

Dinner, for all things considered, doesn’t go horribly. It’s been months since Rin has picked up a knife, let alone use his cutting board, and you’re nice enough to show him how to properly score meat. And yeah, he just learned what scoring meant outside of sports. He’s learning a lot today.

Adding apple chunks to the curry really made an immense difference. Tastes a lot sweeter but also comforting. The pork comes out crispy and tender enough for him to easily bite through and practically melts on his tongue. Maybe he should get back into cooking soon.

Sae wipes his mouth before setting down his utensils. “I’ve also taken the liberty to coach you guys too, so don’t let me down.”

You blink. Rin looks like he’s going to drop his fork on his plate. He seems to catch himself though, and for just a moment. Your heads both tip to the side, and there’s a strange moment of eye contact, one where you are nervously glancing at Sae, and Sae is caught in a strange back-and-forth with Rin.

Yeah, Rin is learning more today compared to the average person.

The next day at the ice rink is a surreal experience for Rin. A year ago, when he did skate professionally, he was used to practicing alone or occasionally sharing the rink with a few other skaters, but now there's a new dynamic—a pair dynamic. You and him. The thought alone sends shivers down his spine, and not the good kind.

Sae is sitting on the side, his injured leg propped up on a chair, and he's observing with a critical eye. Rin can feel the pressure, not just from the expectation of his brother, but also from the fact that you're now involved. His comfort zone has been invaded.

“Let's start with some basic warm-up moves,” Sae suggests, and Rin reluctantly nods.

The two of you glide on the ice, trying to synchronize your movements to a random classical tune that his brother placed on shuffle. Claire de Lune—he’s warmed up to this song plenty of times before. It's awkward at first, the pacing and speed is off, and you’re both too tensed to initiate physical contact.

“You need to trust each other,” Sae instructs, his voice echoing in the cold rink.

Rin shoots him a dirty glare. Trust has never been his strong suit, especially not with someone new.

You decide to break the ice, quite literally, by attempting a lift. Rin braces himself as you come at him with speed, and then, in a moment that feels like slow motion, he lifts you off the ground. Success. You're now spinning in the air, and Rin is holding his breath, hoping he doesn't drop you.

“That was good, Rin!” you exclaim when you land back on the ice.

He's slightly out of breath, both from the physical exertion and the anxiety that came with it. “Yeah, great,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact.

After what seems like an eternity, Rin begins to find a rhythm. It's still not perfect, he’s not used to skinship so he can tell his grip around you is either too firm or barely there. Sae’s a rough teacher and quite possibly the king at micromanaging, the two of you bond quietly over the fact. Rin also learns that you’re pretty good at hydroblading and the Biellmann spin. Well, you’re pretty good at a lot of things. He’s surprised that you haven’t tried out for more international competitions prior.

By the end of the day, both of you are exhausted—well, you look fine, it’s more like Rin feels like his quads are about to burn off. This is the most he’s done physically and with his career in the last several months. Sae, with his usual unreadable expression, nods approvingly.

“You’ve got potential,” he comments, and Rin is unsure if it's a compliment or just a statement of fact. “So, what’s the theme?”

Right. They need to figure out that first before deciding on anything else. Rin has always struggled with coming up with themes and settles with essentially the same one every year since he feels comfortable with it. The past years he’s played around with ‘solitude’, ‘dormant’, and ‘night’—and all of his programs contained dark, moody instrumentals that went along with it.

You’re shuffling awkwardly by the benches, fiddling with your gym bag, and raise a hesitant hand. “How do we feel about ‘love’?”

Rin tightens his lips. “Isn’t that kind of vague?”

“Weren’t all of your themes the same?” Sae shoots back and it makes him quiet. “What songs did you have in mind?”

You’re quick to pull out your phone, a playlist pops up with songs that you’ve either wanted to skate or skated to. The song choices aren’t bad, most of them being soundtracks from musicals and pop artists.

“This Love.”

Rin lets out a loud scoff. “Guess you’re into that sappy stuff.” He remembers one of his skating colleagues was floating around the idea of skating to that song when they first jumped into a relationship but decided to shelve it once they found another person.

“It’s a good song,” You say with a huff, to which Rin only rolls his eyes.

“Guys,” Sae claps his hands three times, a signal that Rin recognizes from his earlier childhood days of basically saying ‘shut the fuck up’. “I need you to work together.”

Your index finger jabs into Rin’s ribcage. He manages to hold back every fiber in his body to not yell at you, especially not when Sae is staring right at him. “If you’re going to make a comeback, I think maybe you should get back on social media again to promote!”

“I’ll sleep on it.” He says with a clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

“We’ll see you later back home, gonna do a couple of laps around the neighborhood before we end the night.” You’re lacing up your sneakers while Sae grabs his car keys. Rin assumes his brother is just going to be ‘encouraging you’ from the driver’s seat. Classic big brother move.

“Sure thing,” It’s the tone that says he’s decided. He’s done. End of discussion. Rin just really wants to lay in his bed right now.

As he walks home, Rin mulls over your suggestion and decides to reinstall some of his social media apps. Surprisingly enough, he still remembers his passwords (he definitely does not have the same password for everything, nope) and immediately logs onto Instagram, fighting back the weird twists and turns in his stomach as the app slowly loads.

There are maybe over a hundred notifications in his DMs, most of which are from random strangers giving half-assed ‘advice’ on how he can be a better skater and some messages from people he’s skated against asking how he was doing. He starts from the bottom of his inbox and recognizes a few of their usernames.

itsyoiboi — sent ten months ago are you doing alright? let me know if you need anything

hyo.chigiri — sent nine months ago Just checking up on you. Coach told me that you left.

megugu_skates— sent nine months ago (。┰ω┰。) rinrinrin!! dont tell me ur quitting for good?? =͟͟͞͞ =͟͟͞͞ ﾍ ( ´ Д `)ﾉ (⋟﹏⋞) u have to come back!!

baroushouei — sent eight months ago Hey, get your head out of your ass. We’re all worried about you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Rin semi-appericates the sentiment but he didn’t ask for it. He doesn’t need any of them checking up on him for the sake of it. None of them were ever close to him so why bother?

He eventually reaches back to the top of his inbox. What Rin didn’t expect was to see a message from you.

yn.is.here — sent a week ago um hi there!! sorry we haven’t officially met before but your brother said you’ll be able to help me compete in skate pairs?? he told me that you’re thinking about coming back this season. sorry if this comes off as weird!

Ugh, of course, his brother would plan this whole thing behind his back. It doesn’t surprise him, and it explains why any of this is happening.

When he finally gets back home, he kicks off his shoes and heads straight to his bedroom. Rin plops and eases his back into the mattress, thumb rummaging through his photo album and trying to find a dumb professional photo to post on his page for stupid promotion purposes. He’s about to pick out an old photo from nearly two years ago when your text notification pops up. You sent over ten attachments—guess Sae took photos and videos from today’s practice run.

Rin shifts through the options before settling on a photo with the two of you in it. You’re both gliding side by side, hands barely touching. He looks scruffy, well he looks scruffy in all of them, the smile he tried to make came out more like a scowl, while you look like a complete natural—what’s new? On top of his skating, Rin needs to work on smiling and his skincare routine next.

Rin uploads the picture with a simple caption, ‘im back’, and turns off his notifications. He’ll worry about the lousy reporters tomorrow morning.

[DISCUSSION THREAD] Rin Itoshi's Icy Resurgence, Unraveling the Mystery Girl, and the Journey Without His Brother by [MOD] Dooby

In the world of figure skating, Rin Itoshi is no stranger to both triumphs and challenges. The seasoned skater, known for his graceful performances and technical prowess, recently made headlines by returning to the ice after a brief hiatus. Taking the place of his brother in the figure skating pairs category, Rin has partnered with the talented and rising star, Y/N, to form an unexpected yet promising duo.

[yurio.fan.cl0b] - 17 minutes ago he’s going to make an embarrassment out of himself AGAIN just go back into hiding [VICChan] - 15 minutes ago Lololol he thinks that piggybacking off another skater it’ll guarantee a gold medal lolol who is even y/n anyway… never heard of her???? [porkkatsu] - 14 minutes ago shes a nobody just like rin *shrugs* [ISAGINUMBERONE] - 12 minutes ago ^ been a rin itoshi fan since day one — i believe that he’ll make a great comeback!! rin if you’re reading this please ignore the haters! [itsJJStyleX0X0] - 9 minutes ago are you actually an idiot? there’s no way that they’re going to take gold, not at the level he’s currently at. compared to his brother, rin’s past performance was sloppy and weak. if he’s going to win gold then he’ll probably end up doping himself [SaeItoshisWIFE] - 7 minutes ago Can we please refrain from spreading rumors like this? Doping is a serious accusation to make…

next rink!

a/n: ok... i meant to keep this in my drafts until i finish it but then i realized it would've been like... way too long with the number of scenes i wanted to write.... so here's some content until the next part bleh >:(( i need to fixate on one project at a time but at the same time i love sharing stuff w you guys haha

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x female reader #heavily inspired by yuri on ice duh #rin is katsuki yuri here (kinda)#also posted during the grand prix figure skating comp!!#cw: depression #cw: mental health

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actiniumwrites · 2 years

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𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

synopsis: they ignore you after an argument

characters: scaramouche, yelan x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, bit of violence/bullying in scara’s (not from scara), soft scara (potentially ooc), mentions/ description of panic attacks in yelan’s, just general hurt/comfort

notes: i failed my drivers test a few weeks ago so i’ve kinda just not been in the mood for a lot of things recently, but i’m trying to write more again so here’s this for now :)

part two (childe and ayato), part three (xiao and heizou), part four (kaeya and alhaitham)

Scaramouche:

The argument was kind of stupid.

You were upset with how much work was taking over Scara’s life and you just wanted him to spend some more time with you.

He took it the wrong way and called you selfish.

After arguing for around an hour, Scaramouche stormed out of your shared home claiming that he “couldn’t handle you right now.”

And over the next week, he would barely talk to you, in fact, he wouldn’t talk to you at all.

The first day it started, you woke up and went to greet him with a “good morning,” just like you always did. Yet, when you walked up to hug him, he merely turned away from you with a scoff and you retreated with a hurt expression.

You didn’t think he was still mad.

While the two of you don’t normally properly make up and apologize to each other, he never really stayed mad at you for more than a day. So with that, you decided to give him some space for a bit and figured he’d come around eventually. He would talk to you when the time was right, just like he always did.

Sadly, you were wrong. For the next few days, you tried a multitude of little things to try to get him to talk to you. You still greeted him in the mornings and when he came back at night or even when you came back from work. You would leave some breakfast with little notes on it, usually reminders and the occasional “I love you.”

He never responded to any of it though. In fact, you had found the breakfast you left for him untouched at the table hours later when you returned from your own job and another plate sat at the counter. He wouldn’t even touch the food you made but instead opted to make his own.

Needless to say, you were getting frustrated. He never did this. Ever. You were puzzled by what you did wrong. This argument was no different from your other ones and to be honest, you didn’t even know why it was something to argue over.

You just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend, what was so wrong with that? Couldn’t he just go on a date with you once in a while, come home a little earlier, hell, even just tell you when he was going to be late?

You sighed and went to bed alone again that night, not bothering to stay up and greet him anymore.

—

The following day was a lot worse than you had expected it to be.

To start, you were late to work. You didn’t even get to eat breakfast or make yourself look nice. And you already had issues with your coworkers, so when you arrived at work all messy, they laughed and made fun of you.

Then your boss yelled at you after one of your coworkers tripped you, causing you to spill hot tea all over his nice suit. You apologized endlessly, but it was to no avail, he just kept yelling. To make things worse, on the way out, the same coworker from before had tripped you again and you fell to your hands and knees, becoming littered with scrapes and bruises.

And of course, it began to rain. You cursed your bad luck as you trudged your way home, clothes completely soaked and body covered in bruises. You couldn’t help but begin to cry.

For the first time this week, you were glad Scaramouche was ignoring you because at least it meant he wouldn’t have to see you in this pitiful state.

—

Unfortunately, when you arrived home, he was already there. Of course on one of your worst days, he was home early. You were just hoping he wouldn’t see you. You wondered if he’d even care if he did, if maybe he’d just make fun of you like everyone else did.

You dropped the keys on the counter as silently as you could, hoping he wouldn’t turn to face you while he was busy reading the book in his hands as he sat on the couch. You weren’t sure if he actually didn’t hear you come in or if this was just part of him ignoring you.

Either way, you were trying to be as quiet as possible. But it was hard with the sobs begging to escape your mouth, only being held back by a weak hand placed over it. Maybe he’d hear the loud pitter patter of the water droplets falling from your body.

You sniffled softly and a small sob left your body as you hurried to your shared room, not bothering to pick up the things you had dropped on the floor in your rush.

You didn’t make it far before a warm hand grabbed your wrist and gently turned you around.

“What happened?” He softly spoke, you had never heard him speak like that in your life. Even that look in his eyes as he inspected your scraped up, drenched body had surprised you.

You could only shake your head in response, you were embarrassed by what had happened and didn’t trust that your voice wouldn’t be all shaky when you spoke.

Looking down at the floor, you had tried to remove yourself from his grasp but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please,” you whispered, more tears streaming down your face. He reached a hand up and wiped them gently before embracing you tightly. Though you were upset and embarrassed for him to see you like this, you melted into him.

“You’re stupider than I thought if you think I’m gonna let you go cry alone in that dark room right now,” he paused before releasing you to look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Your head snapped up at him, not expecting him to have apologized. You gulped, “No, i’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, and it pains me to say this, but you were right,” he spoke as he looked anywhere but your eyes. It amused you and you cracked a small smile.

“It’s okay, I don’t expect you to be with me every night, just once in a while,” you said, voice still a bit shaky. He glanced back at you before sighing.

“I know.”

You hugged him once more before dragging him to bed for the night. You still had some things to work out, but for now, you were just happy to be sleeping in his embrace again.

Yelan:

Your’s and Yelan’s relationship was a bit complicated.

Because of her dangerous line of work, she had opted to keep the relationship a secret so she wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.

You agreed and were fine with it for a while.

You loved Yelan, but you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt when she completely avoids you in public, even going as far as to say she doesn’t know who you are when you walk up to her.

When you tried to speak up about it, she got angry at you and it quickly escalated into an argument.

The next day, you had tried to speak to her on multiple occasions. Normally, the two of you would have breakfast together and talk about your plans for the day. But when you had walked out of your shared room, you had found nothing at the table. Just Yelan washing her plate before grabbing her coat and leaving for work. She didn’t spare you a single glance.

You walked into the kitchen to make your own breakfast before eating silently at the table by yourself. Glancing around the room, you sighed. Your home was a mess.

Since you had the day off from work, you chose to clean it up. Maybe that would help put Yelan in a better mood, you thought.

Once you had finished, you decided to make a nice dinner for the two of you. You just wanted to talk with her and thought that perhaps you could talk over a nice meal.

She didn’t come home till well past midnight. You had silently packed up the food but left a plate out for her with a small note that read, “Went to bed early. I was hoping we could talk over dinner but since you were late, I just put the food away. It’s your favorite, I hope you enjoy it. Don’t stay up too late, love, y/n.”

—

The next morning, Yelan was nowhere to be found. The plate you had left out for her was washed and sat next to the sink and the note was gone. You smiled thinking she may have taken it with her or something, but you quickly found you were wrong once you found it lying at the top of the trash can.

You frowned at the sight but quickly returned to your shared room to get ready. As much as you wanted to sulk around, you still had a job to go to.

—

You were exhausted by the time work was over. You were an adventurer at the Liyue Adventurer’s Guild and the commissions you had gotten today were nothing short of being a pain in the ass.

When you got home, it was late and Yelan still hadn’t returned. Worry was the first feeling you felt as you looked around for her, what if she was hurt?

Normally Yelan left notes when she was going on a long mission, but there was nothing of the sort. What was originally just worry quickly turned into panic as your mind began to fill with the possibilities of what could’ve happened.

Before you knew it, you were dropped on the floor about to have a full on panic attack. The thoughts of what could have happened wouldn’t stop.

Tears eventually spilled out and you sobbed loudly all while trying to catch your breath.

Your head was pounding and you couldn’t see anything, all you could feel was the cold air from the open window and that sinking feeling in your stomach.

Does she hate me?

Oh god, what if she’s dead?

It’s all my fault!

Your thoughts were so loud.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Suddenly warmth engulfed you and your tears were wiped off of your face. You glanced up and saw Yelan holding you.

“Yelan?” You weakly asked, your senses coming back to you.

“I’m here, Y/n.”

“I was so scared, I thought you left for good,” you whispered against her.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Y/n,” she held you tighter, “Yeah, I was upset over our argument, but I wouldn’t leave you over it.”

“But, you’ve been ignoring me?”

She frowned, “I know and I’m sorry. It was childish of me to do that to you. But I’ve had time to think and I realized that I was wrong. I still don’t want our relationship to be public, but I’ll stop pretending like I don’t know you or that you have nothing to do with me.”

“Thank you,” you reached a hand up to hold her face before softly kissing her, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t be,” she spoke while gently lifting you up, “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Even if you had to keep your relationship with Yelan secret, you couldn’t lie and say you were unhappy. Yeah, you wanted to show her off to all of Teyvat and you were a bit upset you couldn’t do that, but you were happy enough that you just got to be with her.

That was enough for you both.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #the balladeer #angst to fluff #yelan x reader #yelan #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #yelan x you #yelan x y/n

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tsxkkis · 8 months

Text

# tooru oikawa - my girl

a/n = began writing this one while bored at the beach (i literally can't swim and dislike tanning so what's there for me to do) i just hope it's not out of character or smthing T-T

summary = you go to the beach with aoba johsai, only to be found in a rather uncomfortable situation. but don't you worry, oikawa is there.

warnings = mentions of some guys being lowkey creepy, nothing else i think.

oikawa noticed that something was wrong.

going to the seaside with the entire aoba johsai volleyball team was supposed to be a fun way to say goodbye to their third years, officially closing the chapter of high school volleyball in their lives. everyone agreed to it, the brown-haired captain proud of himself for coming up with the idea. all of them were surely having fun, right?

he slowly left the water, ignoring the hungry stares from girls next to him as he started looking around, his eyes eagerly trying to find every single person who was able to attend the trip.

most of the guys, including kyoutani, matsukawa, and hanamaki, decided to join some people in a match of beach volleyball, oikawa chuckling under his breath as he saw them clearly crushing their opponents in the game. it took a quick glance behind him to notice yahaba, watari, and kindaichi in the water, the first year fighting for his life as the other two tried to drown him for fun. kunimi was, as per usual, sitting and making sure no one's things got stolen. it seemed as if everyone was in their place.

until he realized that you were nowhere to be seen.

oikawa tried not to panic, although it was clear from his behavior that he wasn't doing that great of a job at it. his eyes hurriedly scanned every possible corner, carefully looking through the crowds of people, hoping and praying that he would find you in one of them, that you weren't captured or something.

but the moment his eyes met yours, he wasn't relieved at all.

you stood by the bar, arms crossed over your chest as you, once again, tried to politely walk past two guys who in an almost demanding tone asked you for your number around ten minutes ago. since then, they've been bothering you without an end; stepping into your personal space, their hands trying to gently brush against your body, cheeky smiles on their faces as they tried every method possible to, get your social media accounts, number, anything. you tried to ignore them as much as you could, brushing their attempts off with the nicest face you could muster up to make, taking small steps from time to time as you headed towards the exit.

much to your disappointment, though, they seemed to understand exactly what your plan was, cornering you in a way that made you unable to escape from them. as you were trying to think of a way to get away as fast as you could, you suddenly saw a pair of hands gently tapping on arms of both guys.

"she's a beautiful one, isn't she?" hearing and seeing oikawa made you let out a breath of relief, one you didn't even know you were holding in until now. he got between the two guys, his hands immediately creeping around your waist, your eyes widening in surprise at his actions.

"too bad for you boys, she's mine."

his next actions shocked you even more, his face suddenly mere inches away from yours as his lips crashed into yours, his hands squeezing your waist gently as your back fell against the wall behind you. you melted into the kiss instinctively, lips moving swiftly against his as one of your hands traveled to his back. you smiled into the kiss, noticing in the corner of your eye that the two guys from before left you alone, frowns on their faces as they walked away.

as both of you pulled away from the kiss, heavy breathing being the only thing disrupting the silence between you, you couldn't help but notice the glint of worry in oikawa's eyes, giving you a concerned look.

"they didn't do anything to you, right?" his voice was unusually soft, his daily demeanor completely vanishing, just as if you were presented with a completely different side of oikawa. you shook your head in response, seeing the boy let out a sigh of relief, a genuine smile gracing his face. "thank god. i wouldn't forgive myself if my girl got hurt."

my girl.

his... girl?

you could feel the burning feeling rushing to your cheeks, giving the setter a puzzled look as you tried your best to use your hair as a cover-up. oikawa chuckled, his hand awkwardly scratching his neck.

"well, not my girl technically." he came back to his usual, flirty demeanor, face leaning in next to your ear. "but i definitely wouldn't complain if you were."

he couldn't get his eyes off of you for even a spare second, taking in every small reaction to his words, scanning the features on your face as you silently put the pieces together. suddenly, a lot of previous situations that you and the rest of the team were confused about made sense.

how oikawa rejected the prettiest model who asked him out after his game a few weeks prior, how his usual flirty demeanor seemed to calm down a bit, remarks of this sort only being thrown around and to the volleyball team and you. how he didn't gush over every girl who tried flirting with him, ignoring their attempts more and more. it was unusual for oikawa to act like this, but no one knew how to approach that topic in a conversation with him.

right now, you didn't have to.

"that's why you rejected that one model after the game?" you mumbled, eyes looking up at oikawa, his hair still damp as little droplets of water fell from his hair. the boy gave you a nod in response, a smile not leaving his face.

"and every girl prior to that. and after that, too." his eyes lowered to your lips for just a second, an action that you didn't leave unnoticed. "i only had my eyes on you, sweetheart. but you never quite caught the hint."

"you flirt with iwaizumi more than with me, tooru." you pointed out, a laugh escaping your lips as the brown-haired boy didn't even try to deny it, trying your best to ignore how your cheeks went even more red at the nickname that slipped from his lips.

"i wanted to ask you out properly later today." he admitted, eyes locked with yours, an awkward laugh leaving his lips. "i guess the universe was fed up with me postponing it all the time."

you giggled at his response, hand coming up to pat his shoulder as you went past him.

"i'm waiting for the proper question, then." you said quietly, just enough for oikawa to hear.

"because for your information, my answer will always be yes."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

#tsxkkis #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #aoba johsai x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

nrc students reading aloud

SUMMARY: Pick your favorite NRC boy(s) and have them read out loud to you! What could go wrong?

CHARACTERS: All NRC Students.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: i was working on this for a while and ultimately decided to just publish all of them together since i finished them all!! i've been yearning for azul to read to me because im really tired so here we are. also hey epel you want to read to me in your country accent hahah???? hahahaa.a......asking for a friend lol......................haha.

Heartslabyul

Riddle reads it all perfectly. I don’t know what you were expecting, but his mother probably drilled reading out loud into his head. Also, he’s amazing at public speaking and probably didn’t fumble once. He’ll be as rigid as a board so if you want to rest your head on him good luck.

Trey is much more entertaining. He makes funny voices to go along with the characters and sometimes he’ll throw in hand gestures. He’ll let you rest your head on his shoulder and snuggle as close to him as you want. He doesn’t stumble either, but it’s because he’s so used to reading bedtime stories to his siblings.

Cater thinks he’s got it but he ends up stumbling occasionally. He’s not horrible, but you can see his face turning pink when he tries to pronounce something and fails. He’ll also let you rest on his shoulder, but his voice is so nice to listen to that you might fall asleep (he wouldn’t mind.)

Deuce is so precious but there’s no way he’d be able to read out loud. He’s shaking at the mere mention of it, even though it’s only you. His face is beet red after a few seconds, the occasion “uh-” or “um-” breaking the sentences. He’ll get even more nervous if you lay your head on his shoulder, sweating nervously at your close proximity and mind blanking. Was he reading? What book is this? is it upside down? Help!

Ace is another one who thinks he’s got it. He does moderately okay, except for the fact that whenever he doesn’t know how to pronounce a word he purposefully says it in the most incorrect way possible. He’ll also make funny voices, but his are so outlandish and disturbing that your laughter will slowly turn into crying. Don’t rest your head on his shoulder, he’ll do the opposite of Deuce and tease the heck out of you.

Savanaclaw

Leona refuses. If you beg, he may read you one sentence. It’s just not worth it to him, plus he knows you’re trying to embarrass him. You could read to him though, he says, because your voice is soothing. He’ll keep going until you’re so flustered you stop bothering him.

Ruggie is going to tease you. There’s no getting around it. He’ll ask if you want him to read you bedtime stories, but the second you pull out a snack for you two to share he’s sitting down and grabbing the book. He insists that you feed him, since he can’t possibly eat the food when he’s holding the book, and uses the break you two take to eat together to add commentary to the stories. It’s very much a “character a was so stupid what was that” discussion.

Jack is really sweet, so he’d agree immediately. Quietly mumbles to himself under his breath when he doesn’t know how to pronounce a word because he doesn’t want to disturb you by asking what it means. If you end up falling asleep he’s going to wake you up as gently as possible, and now he’s concerned about your sleep schedule.

Octavinelle

Azul will not read to you for free unless it’s lesson materials. Lucky for you, you two regularly study together. He’s going to turn bright red if he messes up a single word, so be patient with him if he suddenly goes quiet. He’d prefer if you read some parts to him too, and may wordlessly push the book towards you if that’s the case. Thankfully, he rarely messes up so you won’t have to deal with your study buddy running out of the Lounge.

Jade wouldn’t mess it up. Ever. It makes you wonder if there’s anything this man can’t do (besides handle heights during flight lessons, not take a picture of every mushroom he sees, etc.) He’ll be flattered by your praise, brushing you off with his normal demeanor. He will let you rest on his shoulder, and if he likes you enough he’ll rest on you as well.

Floyd is almost impossible to make read. If you ask him that at all, he’s likely to throw the book and say he doesn’t want to if he’s in a sour mood. If you catch him in a good mood, he’ll refuse if he thinks it’s not interesting. You have to find the right book and get him on the right day, and even then you wouldn’t be able to rest on his shoulder because he’d squeal and squeeze the heck out of you.

Scarabia

Kalim would be wonderful at reading aloud. He has a nice voice and is naturally entertaining, so you can count on character voices and hand gestures. He’ll look up from the book sometimes to see if you’re enjoying it. He’d totally let you rest on his shoulder too, clacking it up to you just being tired and needing a break from everything. He’s happy to be your sanctuary!

Jamil also wouldn’t mess up a single word. His voice is so nice too, if you fall asleep I wouldn’t blame you. He’ll let you rest on his shoulder, but he acts like you’re not even there. He’s focused on the reading while subconsciously acknowledging your presence, which is nothing new to you.

Pomfiore

Vil doesn’t know why you want to hear him read a story of all things, but he will not refuse. He reads a bit slowly, but his voice makes every word sound beautiful. You suppose it’s to be expected, since Vil constantly conducts himself with pure beauty in mind. He’ll let you rest on his shoulder for a bit, but will wake you up if you fall asleep.

Rook would much rather listen to you read, but who is he to deny your request! The words that fly from his mouth are nothing short of dramatic. He makes everything sound like poetry, and it’s like the writing is swirling around you like a tornado. It’s amazing how Rook can see the beauty in everything, and share that view with you just by speaking.

Epel immediately thinks about Vil and what he told Epel to do about his accent. Epel tries his best to tone it down, and he really doesn't want to get yelled at by Vil again over reading something to you. But when you confess that the entire reason you want Epel to read to you is so you can hear his accent, he flushes. Fine, he thinks, he’ll do it for you. And he does. Hesitantly at first, but slowly getting more confident, he slips into the sound of his voice that says apples and strength and hard work, instead of using the one forced upon him by a man who wanted to turn him into something he didn’t want to be.

Ignihyde

Idia is going to have a heart attack. He’ll type the story to you in a text to speech thingy if you want to hear it so bad! Idia lovers already knew how this one was going to turn out…you are not getting him to read out loud. And if, on the off chance, you did, he’d throw the book and hide away in his room for weeks if he got one word wrong.

Ortho is a sweetheart and would read to you without hesitation. Well, maybe with a little bit of hesitation because he doesn’t quite understand why you want him to read it out loud. Once you explain your reasoning, no matter whether it's logical or emotional, Ortho will nod in understanding and begin reading. It’s weirdly soothing, while also being a bit unnerving because he doesn’t mess up a single word. He won’t let you rest on his shoulder though, because he knows it’ll be uncomfortable and you may get a neck cramp!

Diasomnia

Malleus takes your request seriously. You want him to read to you? He’s visiting late as per usual, so he might as well help you to bed, right? He tucks you in and pats your head, making sure Grim is comfortable too. Then he stands right above you and begins to read, his voice so monotone you'd think you were a lecture. It’s not boring, it’s quite the opposite, and both you and Grim sleep very well because of it.

Lilia is used to reading bedtime stories since he’s adopted like three children, so he’s got the funny voices and hand gestures down. If you want to rest on him for a little while, he’ll rest you. If you’re good he may even give you One (1) Single Headpat. But only if you listen to his story all the way through and don’t fall asleep!

Sebek loves to read. He thinks you made the right choice, coming to someone like him to read you something. His voice is very intense as he’s reading, proof of how focused he is on the material. He doesn’t mess up once, and his tone is as dynamic as the writing itself. You hear it when he gets angry or when he’s beginning to get excited, and it’s the most wholesome thing you’ll probably ever get out of him.

Silver will try for you. He really will. He’ll probably fall asleep on your shoulder in the middle of reading to you. If you fall asleep before him, you’ll wake up with his jacket draped over you. If you fall asleep after, you can just use him as a pillow. He won’t complain. He’s probably doing the same anyway.

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