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#it into consideration and looked into seeing one sometime
lyvhie · 2 days
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do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍
desert island | zcl
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boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.
a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚
cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.
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honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.
the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.
arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.
you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.
it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.
during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.
you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.
"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.
"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.
following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.
"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.
"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.
"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”
for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”
"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”
chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.
he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.
"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”
even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.
you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.
“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”
your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.
“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.
you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.
chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.
“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.
“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.
a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.
your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.
this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.
as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.
"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.
chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.
with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.
he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.
you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.
“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.
“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.
he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.
he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.
“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”
before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.
chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.
"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.
"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."
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rosesdrop · 19 hours
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Pick a pile
Who are they as a person?
(Pick from left to right)
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Pile 1:
The person you're inquiring about values honesty and straight-forwardness more than anything else; they're someone who likes to wear good clothes, put some perfume on, take care of their hygiene, and appear as their best version. They do care about how they look in other people's eyes. This person may have cat eyes. They like to analyse other people; they can be a bit judgy. They like to take other people's views and opinions into consideration. This person likes to end up with the best solution possible, so they're not actually quick on acting on things; they like to sit, contemplate, take different points into consideration, and then decide how to act. They're controversial in a way where they care about others outlook in a situation where they can become a sheep in the herd, and other times they listen only to their thoughts when deciding on something. This person believes in taking what is theirs and what is considered their right by every means possible. Air signs, capricorn.
 Pile 2:
This person is very artistic and creative; they have a genius about them; they're youthful in spirit, mostly joyous and lively; they're people who believe in friendships and like to form strong emotional bonds with other people. They're very sensitive, and they take criticism to heart. They care about other people, and they don't want their loved ones to be hurt. They mostly think of other people's feelings before doing something. I see that they're mostly introverted and secretive. Because of their emotional nature, they could worry about things that aren't always that grave. They sometimes have trouble discerning good from bad people; they could have gotten backstabbed several times before, so they started being more careful now about who they let into their circle. They're not very serious people; they like to explore and question everything. They like to be free. Although they're a bit introverted, they like to have company, they like to express the way they feel, they're good with words, and they like to show how they feel using body language as well. They get easily irritated; their emotions can get a hold on them sometimes. Pisces, Scorpio, and Sag.
 Pile 3:
This person likes to make deals and they're really good at what they do. This person is too involved in their senses and in things that are going on around them at their work, in their business, in whatever they do; they're skilled at it, but they're stuck with their all in there. If they don't get what they're aiming for, then they get really competitive and forceful. They're very competitive people; if they see something they like, they want it; they like the finer things in life; they want to reach their goals. They are generally complicated and layered people; their intentions are not easily known, and they're not open about themselves. They're generally not clear because of the competition around them and the battle going on inside them. Gemini, Leo, and fire signs. They are pretty aware of how cruel the world can get. 
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shakingparadigm · 1 day
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idk if your still busy so obviously finish what your doing before doing anything else but do you know how hyuna's prosthetic latches together?? I think theres like a knee-latch on her prosthetic that's a bit father down than her other leg but theres so much going of its hard to tell whats going in that area
Honestly I'm not sure how the mechanics of it would work, especially since there's got to be some weird alien technology or structure at play there. It's pretty different from what a prosthetic leg is like in real life, so it's tricky to make assumptions based on that, too.
There's some stuff I noticed about Hyuna's leg across the various official arts, though. Mostly the fact that it's inconsistent, and I kind of see a reason for it. Please forgive me as I go on a bit of a ramble.
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In her original performance outfit the prosthetic is structured almost like it's just a normal leg molded out of metal. It's a lot more solid and is dark in color, almost black. It also seems as if it goes up to just her knee? Maybe it still goes up to her thigh and she just ripped her pants until the knee for better/unobstructed joint movement. It joins at the ball of her knee and seems to be composed of quite a few different parts, somewhat complicated.
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In All-In, Hyuna's prosthetic is still mostly of average leg shape. The most notable difference is that the leg includes hollow spaces, most likely thinner parts assembled together as opposed to one solid leg. It's also a different, lighter color. We can infer from this image that her leg is until her upper thigh.
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And then we have the latest one. Hyuna's leg in All-In seems to be until her upper thigh, but this image makes it seem as if it goes much higher than that (although it's most likely an artistic choice. maybe I shouldn't look into it too much. I've learned my lesson 😭). But it's interesting how this leg is the most unique, solid and without hollow spaces, but considerably thinner, more simple.
There's also the fact that you mentioned, the latch being farther down in comparison to her actual knee. It's different from her previous prosthetic legs which seem to join at the knee exactly and are much more similar to that of normal leg anatomy. For this prosthetic, her leg doesn't actually latch at the knee, it latches just a bit below it. The prosthetic knee may look a little lower, but it's just the way she's angled, left leg facing left and right leg facing forward.
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Maybe I'm overexplaining something that's already obvious/basic knowledge, my bad. Also I'm no scientist, so I could be wrong.
Anyway, the fact that Hyuna's leg changes quite a bit is interesting. It could be a design shift from the earlier production of ALNST to the finalized version, but I personally like to think that Hyuna's leg changes because she replaces it sometimes. Her lifestyle calls for a lot of action, and while her body can heal itself overtime, her prosthetic leg is prone to wearing and breaking apart.
This is how I see it (just a theory/maybe headcanon):
The leg she has in her performance outfit is one supplied to her by the aliens, which is why it looks much more sturdy, more like a true human leg. They're very advanced, so they'd know exactly how to make one that best suits her. Once Hyuna escapes to the rebellion, she doesn't have access to that kind of material anymore, nor does she know how replicate it. So instead she gets creative, taking scraps of metal and joining them together to make another leg, which is why it looks considerably lighter and less complicated. Whenever her leg breaks, she (or someone from the rebellion) creates a new leg from the material they can find, which is why her legs become progressively more simple and less conventionally "leg-like" . It's no problem to her though, and she's very proud of it.
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yanmusing · 3 days
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Yan!Fem! Barista x fem!reader pt. 2
In headcanon form!
Part 1
Tw for nasty thoughts per usual with this one LMAO
♡And so our dear Yanfem! Barista decides to get closer to you! In her own way, of course.
♡As you go up to the counter to pick up your plate, she takes the chance to slip you a piece of paper.
♡She turns around and attends another customer with a genuine smile. You make your way back to your table and curiously open the note. Call me sometime. I'll be waiting 🩷 -Giselle
♡Any person with decently good social skills would see this as a win. But you? You're TERRIFIED of phone calls! Especially if a woman is on the other end of the line! A woman that's interested in you!
♡Maybe... maybe she just wants to be friends? Gal pals? Ahah...
♡You take a moment to turn around from your seat and look from the paper towards Giselle.
♡As luck would have it, she's gauging your reaction as she's brewing some coffee. She smiles at you and gives you a wink.
♡Our beloved Giselle knows how to get into people's heads, and you happen to be exactly her type.
♡You immediately turn red in the face. Aaand this is your sign to turn your ass back around and finish whatever you were working on.
♡Meanwhile, Giselle serves up more customers as the day gets busier and even chats them up and makes them laugh. You really know how to lift someone's spirits, huh?
♡Eventually, her shifts ends and she's grabbing her coat to leave.
♡"Wait-"
♡What's this?
♡"I, uhm, wanted to ask you something."
♡You fidget awkwardly.
♡Oh my goodness. Is this what Giselle thinks it is?
♡"Could we maybe talk about this?" You nervously unfold the paper with her number on it.
♡Your breathing gets just a tad bit shallower. You try not to let it show, but your hands are trembling ever so slightly. The way that you're standing is rather stiff, too.
♡Do you need her to help you relax? You need Giselle to comfort you and tell you how strong you're being for her?
♡Ahem. Focus, Giselle.
♡She's gonna have her fun with you. Patience.
♡But maybe just a little indulgence is okay.
♡"I don't know what you mean." She looks at you with a concerned face.
♡Your mind starts racing– and so do your words.
♡"Oh, uhm, I meant like if you could just clarify why you gave me your number, is all."
♡"Why I gave you my number? Did you think it was to take you out on a date?" She raises an eyebrow at you. She moves aside (and away from you) to let people in.
♡And of course, your darling self follows her. Even though she's just a bit farther away.
♡Ugh, she just needs to have you already. Ah, you'd look so pretty with your hands tied.
♡"I wouldn't have minded if it was." Your eyes nervously meet hers.
♡So her lady is being bold now?
♡In all honesty, she was getting off to this.
♡"Depends If you can be brave enough to call me. But if you can't– you know where to find me, sweetheart. I won't hold it against you. And remember to pick up your things from your table."
♡Giselle waves farewell to you and gives you a wink.
♡Oh shit. You left your things inside!!!
♡You scurry back in and hastily pick up your materials; it's a miracle no one stole your laptop. And whatever you were working on is long forgotten as you awkwardly walk out of the Cafe.
♡After transporting yourself back home, you try to plan out what you want to say.
♡You try. You definitely do.
♡You think about it while you're washing your dishes. When you're sweeping. Cooking. Reading. You even finish folding the pile of clothes on that one chair.
♡While doing so, your mind wanders to Giselle. She seems so kind and considerate... even a bit dominant. You wonder what she would be like if she was at your house: she's helping you do your chores, giving you soft kisses as she passes by you, even flirts with you.
♡"What's my princess doing, walking around the house doing work?" She scoops you up into her arms and holds you tight, attacking you with a flurry of kisses.
♡You give her a hearty laugh. "Giselle, you know we both need to do things around the house. I don't want it to be just you, I'd feel bad."
♡"Oh but just look at you, your bones are breaking and you're- you're dying!!!" She dramatically wipes her tears with your shirt. "I think... I think my princess needs a reward, hmm?"
♡Even when she's fucking you, she's praising you.
♡"You're such a good girl, give me just one more."
♡She has you from behind. Her hand is way up your shirt and the other is shoved down your shorts. Your breathy moans make her plant kisses up and down your neck, leaving small bites in their wake.
♡"Doing so good for me, aren't you princess? Yeah? I know you need me so badly, I know." She coos.
♡You're suddenly transported back into reality.
♡You realize you've been folding your clothes wrong.
♡You blink a few times to readjust to your waking consciousness
♡You promptly flop on your bed and scream into one the pillows
-------
Fem reader was DEF feeling what Giselle was putting down LMAO
Hope yall liked this part and stay tuned for pt. 3!
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citizen-zero · 1 year
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After years of my mom obsessing over my hair and forcing me to do various treatments on it and threatening punishment if I didn’t comply. I’ve come to understand why Britney shaved her head that one time. I know that was something she did as part of a mental breakdown but fuck yeah good for her. I get it.
#and the stupid bitch still doesn’t get it or maybe she refuses to#like you can’t pretend you’re just worried and you don’t understand why I’m angry when you’ve spent years strong arming me into#putting castor oil in my hair and attempting to put mayonnaise in it and I think the only thing that stopped her was my dermatologist#bc he said it wouldn’t do anything at best and also don’t put fucking condiments in your hair#but she really wanted to and I don’t remember this but she might’ve hit me over my refusal#and she’d threaten to take my phone away or deny me something else if I didn’t let her do shit#and then recently she FaceTimed me while I was at DND and tried persuading me to see an endocrinologist#like saying oh she had a friend with the same problem and went to an endocrinologist and the birth control was the issue#(never mind the fact that my BC is the reason I don’t have painful cystic acne anymore and do have a regular period again)#and she was trying to push me into going#and I kept saying I wasn’t having this conversation w her now bc I was busy and she was just like ‘so when are we going to have it’#and basically trying to push past my boundary of I’m fucking busy and this conversation doesn’t need to happen now#I just hung up on her and went on airplane mode but fuck even thinking about it makes me so angry like I want to punch her kinds of angry#and honestly if she hadn’t kept ignoring me and hadn’t kept trying to have this conversation after I said I was busy maybe I would’ve taken#it into consideration and looked into seeing one sometime#but honestly now I absolutely fucking refuse unless my doctor and I agree it’d be a good idea#fuck off mom fuck off and mind your own fucking business#personal#erika's blog and bar
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carefulfears · 1 year
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thinking about scully sitting on the floor of mulder’s apartment just holding him as he wept after his mother’s death and after she told him through tears that it’s time to stop. it’s time to stop looking for his sister.
and how she had already told him that once, seven years earlier, a month into their partnership, when she chased him out of a police station and told him to stop running after his sister because it won’t bring her back.
she called after him to just stop, because she’s the scientist, and that’s the logical conclusion that she had reached.
except later that night, he told her why he does it. that he’s been closing his eyes and walking into that room, thinking maybe, when he opens them, his sister will be there, since he was 12 years old. “every day” of his life.
and she never told him to stop again.
until seven years later, when she rocked him on the floor, and then the next day was asked “why do you want to bring all this back up now?” and answered, “someone owes it to mulder.”
so she started looking. she reopened files, she tracked down records, she went to his mother’s house to dig through the trash. she confronted CSM about what he knew, she flew to california, she held hands and prayed.
she looked at mulder and said “it hurts me to tell you this” and stayed steady in the truth anyway. she listened to him read to her about a 14-year-old girl’s pain, held his hand and told him to get some sleep. she stayed up, kept looking, and found it. “i got it, mulder. i couldn’t believe it when i saw it. it was like it was looking for me.”
the police report from when samantha ran away.
she read the hospital records, went to the home of the nurse who signed the intake report, asked him if he wanted her to go herself.
she left him by the car and walked up and knocked, asked about a patient in 1979. she listened as the nurse described how “you couldn’t forget her or how frightened she was. scared for her sweet life.” and the man who came for her, who wouldn’t put out his cigarette.
earlier the day before, she had been told to just stop. “word of advice, me to you: let it be. you know, there’s some wounds that are just too painful ever to be reopened.”
and she had responded, “this particular wound has never healed. and mulder deserves closure.”
after seven years, she knows now, that you can’t just stop chasing. she knows how heavy grief is, and she‘s seen the effects of carrying it alone. of walking into the worst night of your life every day, eyes closed, hopeful.
you can’t just stop, and you can’t really have closure, but you can help someone carry it.
and ultimately, that’s what made this the end of the road. sometimes the heaviest burden of grief is feeling that pain is all there is left of someone, and that alleviating it would be to abandon them.
scully’s right, this wound has never closed, but there’s freedom in shared remembrance and shared dedication. she doesn’t ask him to stop until he’s ready to know the truth, and she’s willing to find it. she doesn’t ask him to rest until it’s safe for him to, because it’s not forgetting samantha. she knows and she remembers.
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littlebirdy0301 · 9 months
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I’m watching this show & there’s an older transfem nonbinary character that’s dating a dad of a 13 y/o nonbinary kid, and I’m on the episode where the kid meets the partner for the first time. and the kid is on my nerves with the typical Kid Hates Dads New Partner shtick. And like I get it when kids have a hard time with parents dating. but because of my own experience with queerness and unaccepting family I’m Annoyed cause iTS GIVING PRIVILEGE!!! Like oh my god if I was in that position I’d be so fucking excited!!! This awesome older queer nonbinary person starting to come into the family, wanting to get close & bringing more older queer people around too!!! That’s so fucking cool!! like God I Wish That Were Me!!!!
#The kid acknowledged the privilege vibes & seem nice enough but I was just SHOOK that this kid wasn’t happy to have a queer adult around lol#And tbh it felt just a lil unrealistic cause I’m an out queer young adult that sometimes works with kids#And the trans kids always give the vibe that they’re quite happy to have a queer trans person as one of the People In Charge#& they give that vibe no matter how supportive their families and environments are#Like even when they’re in privileged situations w/ great families they still feel a kinship with the queer community & look up to Elder Gay#Not that I’m an Elder Gay. But for a lot of them I’m probably one of the only trans people they know that’s considerably older than them#I mean I personally don’t know trans people that are much older than me (& by “know” I mean “see somewhat regularly”)#The older queer people I know are LGB. But no Ts in anywhere I’ve worked or been a student of or anything#I know a lesbian director & her wife that sometimes co-directs. An older gay man that assists in the theatre dept. at college#My best friend’s mom that started identifying as pansexual after being the best Ally Mom to her daughter & all us “adopted” kids#And of that family there’s some family friends with lesbian parents#But no older trans people in my life#So I just think that would be so fucking cool to have an older trans person and their queer friends brought into my life#Lol anyways it’s not that deep but when the kid character was acting like that I just kept going “ITS GIVING PRIVILEGE!!!!” lmaoo#just cause I’m lowkey jealous & wish I had anything like that growing up lol
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sirfrogsworth · 6 months
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Do you remember that Aussie sword guy who used to talk about medieval weapons?
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And, like, he seemed pretty good at talking about swords and shit. He seemed to have a good grasp of the history and tactics. He'd analyze movie weapons for their realism and that was fun. He did demonstrations with real weapons. For a time I really looked forward to his videos popping up in my feed.
He seemed like a harmless sword-fighting aficionado.
But then I guess he wanted to spread his wings. So he started down an anti-woke path. Giving questionable critiques about media and feminism. He started defending boob armor by showing historical examples even though most of those were decorative and not battle ready like in the games.
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Then he admitted he was a fan of The Daily Wire.
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And that was disappointing.
I missed him nerding out about swords, ya know?
Well, Shad decided to spread his wings again.
He has become...
*bad French accent* An artiste.
You see, he types words into a little box. Then a little robot does a google image search and steals a bunch of art. Then that robot reconfigures that art to be nearly indistinguishable from the source material. Well... aside from the occasional artist watermark.
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Whoops!
A.I. art is very difficult. Sometimes when you type words into the box you get a woman with 5 lopsided anime tiddies. Or 20 fingers on one hand. It takes time and effort and experience to type in the perfect magic words so that you get something close to your imagination that doesn't belong in some sort of Lovecraftian horror ripoff.
For example, check out this cool "pirate hat" I asked A.I. to place on my head.
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Clearly, I am not skilled enough at typing words into a box to get a proper pirate hat.
It. Is. Not. Easy.
I heard someone say you have to type things in a box for 10,000 hours before you start getting truly masterful generations.
I mean, you can't type "marathon runners" and expect that to actually work.
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THIS REQUIRES SKILL, PEOPLE.
And I am a lowly amateur. I can only dream of becoming the box-typist Shad has honed himself into.
The thing is... Shad is very upset.
He is upset that you don't like his "art" and he is ready to die on this hill.
So... before he croaks on a mound of bullshit, he has something to show you. He has created something truly brilliant and when you see it, he is convinced you will validate his considerable efforts.
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Before I show you his "Not. Easy." artistic masterpiece I'd like you to sit with what he has said for a second.
Ruminate in the verbiage.
Process the ideas and points of view presented.
Digest his plea for you to accept and love his hard won battle after typing words into a box to manifest his imaginings.
.
.
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Have you sat?
Ruminated?
Processed?
Digested?
Okay, here it is...
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smoft-demons · 26 days
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MC needs some extra love
_______
You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.
Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.
_______
Lucifer:
When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.
He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.
He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.
He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.
You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.
When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.
His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.
_______
Mammon:
Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!
You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.
The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!
He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.
He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.
It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.
Eventually though, he strikes gold!
That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!
From that point on, he knows what to do!
The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!
He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!
Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.
He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.
He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.
The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.
He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!
_______
Levi:
Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.
You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.
Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!
He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!
But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!
So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.
If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.
There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.
When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.
After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!
You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.
_______
Satan:
Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.
Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?
He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.
But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!
You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?
You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.
Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.
You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.
Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.
He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.
In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.
Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.
This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.
It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!
You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.
Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.
(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)
_______
Asmo:
Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.
But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!
Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.
He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.
He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.
Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.
He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.
At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.
He spends a good long while doing that.
He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.
For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!
He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!
… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.
_______
Beel:
Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.
He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.
His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.
He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.
He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.
He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.
When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.
You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?
He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.
The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.
Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.
At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.
So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.
Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.
_______
Belphie:
Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.
It’s straight to baby jail with you!
In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.
He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.
Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.
He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.
Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.
He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.
If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.
He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.
It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.
Belphie knows what he’s doing.
It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.
Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?
You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!
He can fix that, right?
He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.
He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.
Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.
There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.
He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.
If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.
_______
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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“Are you sure it’s not too cold?” 
“It’s fine.” You glance down at Emmaline in the stroller, wrapped up in a blanket over her little winter jacket, fuzzy wool hat pulled down around her ears. “It’s not nearly chilly enough to be concerned. She’s probably overdressed, to be honest. In Norway, they leave babies outside to sleep in much colder temperatures.” 
“Why?” He keeps pace beside you, strolling along the park’s walking path leisurely, trying to keep his heart rate normal every time your hip bumps his thigh, or you nudge him with your elbow. 
“It helps their immune system, I think. Exposes them to the germs in their environment, allows them to build resistance, or something. Plus, the climate there is naturally cold? So, I think it helps acclimatize them. Pretty sure some people say they sleep better.” 
“That’s… brave of them.” He doesn’t know what else to say, he can’t imagine trusting the world enough to leave a baby, leave Emma, outside to sleep. 
“It’s different, I guess, when you have a ‘village’,” you use air quotes around the word village, and regret flashes across your eyes. “when you trust your community. Rely on them.” He doesn’t expect the longing that rings in your voice, the doleful, twisted tone of loss, a mournful sentiment that has him nearly pulling up short, slowing to a stop to tilt his head in consideration, his eyes above the mask zeroed in on yours until you’re giving him a meek smile and shrug. “Anyway,”
“Sweet-“ 
“I feel like we’re always talking about me or Emma. How about you? How was your week?” You pause, something occurring to you, pushing your lips forward with curiosity. “I know you said you travel for work, but I don’t think you ever told me what you did?” Shit. He’s not ready for this. He tries to recall how he practiced it with Johnny, the words that they agreed upon, the approach he would take. 
“Ye gotta make it sound at least somewhat normal, LT. Make her feel safe about it.”
“’m not goin’ lie to her.” 
“It’s not lyin’. Just, use the official language. The propaganda stuff, y’know.” 
He knows what he’s supposed to say, the lengthy spiel about ‘managing global conflict’ and ‘identifying and neutralizing domestic and global threats’, the words Johnny had suggested, but instead, what comes out is; “I’m uh, in the military. In a multi-national spec ops task force that focuses on counter terrorism. We operate from of a base just outside the city.” The park bustles around the three of you, runners and walkers circumventing where you’ve slowed to a crawl on the crushed gravel path, families tugging at one another, boys and girls hopping with excitement over promises from their parents. 
“That’s… interesting.” You say the words slowly, like you’re mulling them over, considering them. “Is it dangerous?” 
“Only sometimes.” You raise an eyebrow like you don’t believe him, skepticism plain as day, and he concedes. “It’s not a desk job, but I’m very good at it.” He wants to reassure you, desperate to keep the hope alive that’s been building in his heart for you, needs you to feel safe with him. The water is in sight now, ducks and swans floating on top of the glass like surface, waiting for their offerings that come from so many that frequent their little lake, every day. You motion to an empty bench, turning the stroller in it’s direction, his breath still caught in his chest, lack oxygen starting to make him feel woozy. Say something. Say anything. 
“Emmaline’s dad had a dangerous job too.” You unbuckle her from the stroller, cradling her in your lap as you nestle into one end of the bench, eyes fixed on the group of ducks closest to the shore. “And he was good at it.” 
“Is that how you lost him?” He concludes softly, the question as gentle as he can voice it. You don’t look at him, but he can see the change in your face, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, posture curling over your baby. 
You only nod, but it’s enough. Enough for him to slide a little closer, pressing the outside of his leg to yours. Enough that your free hand wanders, fingers brushing against the fabric of his jeans, your face lifting from the water to his with a question. 
“Can you hold her? While I get the biscuits?”
“Of course.” You shift her into his arms, and he straightens her so that she’s sitting up against his chest, crook of his arm supporting her head, other hand flush with her belly. You rummage inside the bag that’s shoved under the stroller, Emma’s backpack, and she coos at you from Simon’s arms. “Is that your mum?” He murmurs, and she gurgles something in response, a happy string of sounds that has his heart warming inside his chest. “Yeah, that’s her huh?” You straighten, bag in your hand, watching him and Emma, sad expression turning beatific, bittersweet smile pulling at your lips. 
“Come on.” You don’t reach for the baby, instead motioning for Simon to follow you, trusting him to carry her down behind you, to hold her as you as break up the little pieces of biscuit. “I promised her some ducks.” 
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keyotos · 9 months
Text
well aware, you are always mine
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summary ⎯ bf headcanons w/ hsr men!!
includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, jing yuan
tana's thoughts ⎯ keyotos being active and writing?!!!?!!?!?!
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dan heng
⎯ TOTAL acts of service bf. cuts fruit for you, organizes your closet with you, helps you rearrange ur bookshelf. like all of that. he is ur #1 helper in all situations and is probably the most reliable person u know. if ur ever having problems, you always call dan heng bc he always solves them for you
⎯ considerate bf. listens to all ur song recommendations and also your book recommendations. never takes your word with a grain of salt (most of the time)
⎯ not a big fan of shopping trips, but will go with you anyway. he will carry all your bags and help you pick out clothes. AND HE WILL GIVE U ACTUAL FREAKING ADVICE INSTEAD OF BEING LIKE, "it all looks good on you."
⎯ like dan heng will pull up with, "that color washes you out," or, "that does not match your color pallete at all." he's detailed wit it too?? the only reason why he knows all of this is bc he pays attention to you.
you see something you like? let's find it in that color that matches w/ ur fav pants so you can wear it all the time. don't worry, i already found it.
you look dissatisfied? dan heng thinks he knows why: you think it won't look good. oh, he was right? well, he can help you style it in a way for it to look good. you can wear that with the shirt you like so much, with some added jewelry, of course.
⎯ does not spend ANY TIME in his room (but who could rlly blame him). he's always in yours and he's lying down in your bed. he takes the phrase, "make yourself at home," to another level. but i guess he gets a pass bc you literally are his home.
⎯ he's sarcastic asl. since his guard is down with you, there's not really a need to maintain seriousness at all times. his dry and sarcastic humor really comes out when you're around him specifically. dating dan heng would make u a victim of the sassy men apocalypse.
⎯ dan heng is the type of person to stare at you lovingly (like HEART EYES are coming out) while you guys are taking a photo together. and you wouldn't even know until you saw the photo. like picture this: you are over here smiling and being cute or whateva. and then dan heng is there. he's obliviously staring at you: like how the light perfectly bounces off your face and how perfectly your eyes crinkle when you smile.
⎯ when he feels secure around you, he is the definition of lovesick. longing stares from far away (even tho ur dating)? yes. touchy (you make sure to tease him about it)? yes. buries his head in the nape of your neck? duh. like he is the whole package and he can never seem to let you go... like ever. you are constantly stuck in his head and also his body.
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gepard
⎯ hilariously bad at taking pictures. like you tell him to get one angle and he gets the exact opposite angle. manages to always catch you off guard in every. single. picture. his excuse for this is, "but you look good in all of them :/"
⎯ when he gets super tired after work, sometimes when he gets home and finishes showering/etc, he just flops onto u. like. literally flops onto you. you're always shocked at first, but you move him into a position where he can comfortably sleep (and hold you) in and then you relax. he always apologizes for it later in the morning and makes sure to shower you in more affection than last night, but you always reassure him that it's fine.
it's only bc u take the time to take equally bad photos of him #payback.
⎯ you have to water his plants for him. we all saw this coming. but on the bright side, that means ur home more often!! and when you greet him on the couch after a long day... like you've never heard a deeper sigh of relief before. doesn't collapse on you like other days (thankfully). you two just spend the night eating dinner on the couch and watching reality tv. sometimes, when you fall asleep on the couch, gepard always brings a blanket from your bedroom and drapes it over you. and then he carries you into bed.
⎯weirdly good at cracking your back for you. like if he wasn't the captain of the silvermane guards, he could very well be a freaking chiropractor. like he knows all the right joints to pop, all the right places to put his hands, and all the right places to press down. and it feels SO GOOD. you've never asked him about it.
⎯ gets you really cute and considerate gifts since he isn't around a lot. sometimes gets lynx to deliver them for him. and they're always paired with your favorite flowers too. all his gifts r things that he remembered you liked/wanted (new shampoo brand, new book pela recommended, new plants).
⎯ still asks if you wanna go out even if you two have been dating long term. like he would text you and be like, "would you like to go out with me for coffee," all formal and wtv, and you would respond like, "gepard we have been dating for five years. you do not need to ask."
he would get all flustered when you would bring it up at the coffee shop. pays for your coffee so you could forget about it (you don't: you tease him endlessly).
⎯ learns other things for you. he's dedicated and loyal to you like how a soldier is dedicated to their general. if you wanted a specific kind of dish, gepard would learn how to create it. if you wanted to learn how to plant certain seeds, gepard would run to the florist (and pela) to ask for many tips. if you spoke a different language, gepard would be running to duolingo.
though there is always his duty, a part of his heart and soul will always belong to you.
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blade
⎯ contrary to gepard, takes the BEST FUCKING PHOTOS of you. he should be a professional photographer or something because, all the photos he takes, makes you look like a MODEL. he gets all the angles perfectly right + he always makes sure the lighting looks good. and u look back at all the photos he took and ur jaw is DROPPED
⎯ hates going outside x goes outside 24/7. you're big on exploration and fun while blade wants to lie low. but either way, you two manage to have fun in your own respective ways. blade watches you from a distance (of 1 foot) and only intervenes if he needs to. other than that, you drag him around the entire place. he is not complaining: one stupid and cheeky grin from you, and blade realizes he is an absolute goner.
⎯ a little too supportive. it's a good thing in all aspects except for one: making decisions. this mf is like, "whatever you do, i fully support your decision." BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE A DECISION. THAT'S WHY UR ASKING HIM.
⎯ this problem comes up very often during shopping trips. where dan heng excels at shopping trips, blade... not so much. blade is the type of bf to say, "everything looks good on you." but not bc he doesn't care enough: he genuinely thinks you look good in everything.
in his mind it's like: how could you think you look bad in that outfit when you are radiating luminosity from every crevice of the room??? does anyone else see that glow coming from you, or was it just him??
⎯ did not have a favorite color until you. he actually didn't have a lot of favorites before he met you. now his favorite color is blue (you like looking at the sky), his favorite scent is peach blossoms (the shampoo you use), and his favorite food is fried rice (it's the only thing you know how to make).
⎯ does ur hair for u. expert in hair care but it's not uncalled for (his only friends⎯not counting you⎯are silverwolf and kafka). you need to braid your hair? blade has already offered before u could even pull up a tutorial. a new cute hairstyle you wanted to try? don't worry, your boyfriend is there to help you part, section, and clip your hair.
⎯ pretends to give off big scary dog energy, in reality he is a small little lapdog. desires your love and affection so often. does not go out without you. grabs things n carries them to u like a cute little dog would. he's very devoted okay?? let him bring u stupid little trinkets and stay by ur side all the time.
⎯ you send him stupid ass memes all the time. one time u sent him one of those stupid 'good night' memes and he threatened to block you (lovingly). but he found that his reactions always make you laugh (and blade wants to keep you happy forever), so he just lets you send them to him atp. most nights, he sends a simple, "good night" text back. but when he wants to tease you, he sends a goodnight meme back.
⎯ those nights, he thinks that he hears your ecstatic giggles from down the hall. you sound so giddy that it makes his heart want to blow up. those are the good nights.
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sampo
⎯ bro is mischievous. he leaves little sticky notes for you all around the house and makes it a game for u to find them. they're not even super important too they're just little things like, "i miss you," or, "did u find all the notes???"
⎯ but he knows you get bored easily, so he made those notes so that you could have something to do during the day. his intentions are adorably sweet, but his execution is so. um. A FOR EFFORT!
⎯ most of the stuff he gives you... hate to break it to u but they are usually stolen. if you choose to ignore that, great! most of the things he grabs are usually rare and u have no idea how he gets them. you swear he doesn't leave belobog, but some of the items he gifts you seem a little too... outlandish. but yk, it's the thought that counts!
⎯ manages to distract you from every single task. usually disruptive, but sometimes, very helpful. after an entire day of work, you can always come back home to where sampo is, because he will always find a way to distract you from whatever stress you have on your plate. whether it be cooking you dinner or simply talking you through his day, you always find yourself feeling slightly better around him.
⎯ has a good relationship with your family. yeah this was very unexpected on both ends. your parents love him: they love his humor and his looks and literally are charmed by him. even tho is a CON ARTIST. anyway. sampo loves your parents and messes around with you by calling them as their parental names (mom/dad). you are not amused.
⎯ grabs dinner before he comes back home. always manages to swing by a place you like and he always gets free food (you've gave up trying to question his methods). before, when he brought home food, it was usually a special occasion because he would never be home often. now, it's a common occurrence: he's wanted to be with you more, and now he brings home food every day.
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jing yuan
⎯ the xianzhou's nagging king. this is not a good thing. he nags at you for a lot. did you take your allergy meds? did you eat breakfast today or just drink coffee? did you forget to clear out the pencils on your desk? he does it out of endearment. it does not make it less annoying (lies).
⎯ so accustomed to your little routines together that he can do it with his eyes closed. how do you want your tea? easy: he can list it within ten seconds. he can make it with his eyes closed. and he will always make it perfectly too.
⎯ lets you sleep on mimi (you could say you go mimimimi). not even gonna lie, sometimes he wishes he was mimi. you just sleep so peacefully on her, but you refuse to sleep on jing yuan. you make up stupid excuses like, "your bicep is going to be numb by the time we wake up." but that is simply not true (it is).
⎯ favorite times of day are when it's night. okay that didn't make any sense but he really just likes spending the night with you. it's quiet and the world is much less loud, and it feels like being with you redefined the definition of happiness. everything is so much more peaceful, and plus, you were there.
⎯ being a cloud knight general has its negative aspects. so, much like gepard, he would probably also crash into bed with you at night. but this time, he doesn't need you to move him, because he traps you in between his arms every. damn. time. it's like this man cannot fall asleep without you.
⎯ sitting down with him is like a chore. if you two are sitting down, jing yuan likes to grab your legs and move them onto himself, so you two would be closer. this isn't just on the sofa, by the way. armchairs, conference chairs, office chairs. the chairs don't even have to be connected. he'll just find a way to connect you two anyway.
⎯ you are the first person he looks for in a crowded room. in a place full of people, jing yuan's eyes will only scan for you. his height makes it easier to do so btw. but anyway, you are someone of great importance to him. he doesn't want to lose you like how he lost so many. and when he finds you, it's like the sun shines directly on you: it's always a surreal sight when jing yuan sees you, because he always thinks the sun has risen.
⎯ it hasn't. he was always looking at you.
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AND GOOD NIGHT. jfc.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Just had a fun idea but like, what about hcs on how the others would react upon realizing s/o has feelings for Alastor? Like out of everyone they could've fallen for of it HAD to be him kjbgbkjs
Thanks for the consideration and take care of yourself op! Drink water, eat food, and know ur favs adore you!
Everyone finding out that wifey is married to Alastor??? 👀 That's what I heard-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: A little suggestive in the middle bit? Angel helps wifey buy lingerie
Description: ☝️⬆️
You meet everyone at the hotel separately from your husband, so they never make the connection until they actually see you two together
Except Niffty, Alastor just had her trailing behind him one day
"Niffty! This is my darling wife! She is the lady of the house!"
"Neat! I'm gonna go find some bugs!"
"...she's cute, Alastor."
"She's a menace in disguise, my dear~"
When you first met Husker, you were playing cards when he suddenly saddled himself next to you with the kind of confidence that only an overlord has
Luckily, the game was only for fun, the two of you competing against each other in friendly competition
It's a good time between the two of you, you're charming and witty, Husk just eats it up and keeps asking you to play another game
"You're pretty good at this aren't you, beautiful? Do you gamble often?"
You simply hum and politely sip your drink, carefully thinking about how you're going to turn down the overlord
"I don't tend to frequent these sorts of places but my darling husband and I are celebrating so it's a special occasion~"
"Husband?"
"Oh, he's harmless! A real romantic...~"
He deflates a little at the mention of your husband but moves on like nothing happened and that's the last you see of him for a couple of months
That is until Alastor comes home one day looking exceptionally pleased with himself as he sweeps you up into an impromptu dance
"Alastor~! What's gotten into you~?"
"Another victory under my belt, my dear~! You know how you've been saying you always wanted a cat?"
"No?"
"Well, I went out and got you one!"
You barely have time to ask him what he means when suddenly Husk is standing in front of you, looking shocked
"Oh Alastor...tell me you didn't go after him just because he flirted with me a little.."
"Of course not, darling~! I did it beca-he did what now?"
Husk looks around in bewilderment before his eyes land on you wrapped in your husband's arms, pointing at you accusingly
"HE'S YOUR HUSBAND!? You need to look up the definition of HARMLESS cause he ain't harmless!"
You meet Charlie because she quite literally runs into you, tears in her eyes and obviously upset
"I'm so so SO sorry! I-"
"Hey hey...what are you sorry for? Are you okay, my dear?"
You can't help but mother her, wiping away her tears as she tries to excuse her tears as nothing serious
"Would you like to talk about it? I can't just leave you crying out in the street like a lost baby, now can I?"
She sniffles pathetically and nods, letting you guide her somewhere more private
"Y-yes please..."
"Come now, we'll make some hot tea and you can tell me what's got you so worked up..."
You two grow attached to each other after that and make time to meet with each other at least a few times a month
She gets anxious when she hasn't heard from you in a while and calls you whenever she's upset about something, seeking your opinion
You listen to Charlie's problems and try to offer her advice or do what you can to help her feel better, sometimes she just needs a motherly hug
She tells you about her hotel and whether you believe in her dream or not, you support her because she obviously needs it
Other times, you two talk about your respective partners and gossip
"Your husband sounds so sweet! I've got to meet him one day! When he comes back, of course..."
You laugh at her enthusiasm, gently patting her hand to calm the excitable young woman down a little and trying to quell the sadness of his absence
"And this girlfriend of yours sounds like she really cares about you, I'd love to meet her."
You feel compelled to look after her, and Charlie sees you as a source of comfort if not a mother figure to her
So she eventually introduces Vaggie to you because you've been asking to meet her, Vaggie is just excited to meet the famous Y/N
She's heard so much about you from Charlie that she had to see if you were genuine, she had to make sure you weren't using her girlfriend
Only to be taken aback by just how much she ends up liking you, looking to you for advice just as Charlie does
She's geared up, ready to fight, when one day you two are suddenly cornered by thugs out on the street, only to be baffled when you take them out with ease
Just how powerful are you?
"Wait wait wait-how did you pull off that move? I've been trying to learn how to do that for months!"
You're casually fixing your clothes and rubbing your wrist, completely unfazed by the ambush
"It's just a little something I learned from my husband~ Would you like me to teach you?"
"Y-yes! Please!"
She readily accepts, and soon she's just as attached to you as Charlie is, looking forward to the times you agree to spar with her
Her and Charlie talk about how much they love you one night before they go to bed
"So....she's great right?"
"Charlie, I fucking love her."
"Right!?"
You meet Angel at a clothing store, the two of you shopping in the same section when you catch him staring hard at the gloves
"You should try this one, the color compliments you really well, and they're made from a good material."
He jumps in surprise, obviously startled by your sudden arrival, but does genuinely seem to look at the pair of gloves you're pointing out
Angel picks them up and tries them on, seemingly more than pleased with your picks, whatever thoughts that were weighing on his mind momentarily forgotten
"Thanks..! Uh, maybe I can help you pick something out?"
He gestures to the many different lingerie in your basket, you're obviously having a hard time deciding which one to get
You have the decency to at least look a little embarrassed, a soft blush taking over your features and making you look innocent
"Would you? My husband is back, and I just want to show him how much I've missed him..."
Angel guides you to the fitting rooms, obviously excited to be of help, he could be saving a marriage for all he knows!
"Sure thing, doll! You put on each one, and Angel Dust here will tell you which one will knock your man off his feet! If I know anything! It's how to turn a man on!"
Normally, you wouldn't even THINK about showing another man your body in lingerie, but hearing that and having an inkling of who Angel is, you trust him
And it's surprisingly fun! Angel helps you narrow it down to three favorites that are sexy and comfortable, it never once feels creepy or uncomfortable
"Now pose like this when he comes in! Yes! Just like that! Your hubby is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!"
You can't help but laugh, not at all feeling ridiculous but enjoying Angel's antics and enthusiasm
"Thank you, Angel. We should go clothes shopping together again sometime, I had a good time today."
He winks and holds out his phone to get your number before walking away, no longer seeming so...depressed
"And you'll have an even better time tonight! See you later, doll~!"
You two shop together on the regular after that, greeting each other with air kisses and judging people together
"Ugh, do you see the hair on that gal? What an absolute wreck!"
"That hairstyle wasn't even popular when my husband and I were alive...ugh..."
"When am I gonna meet this man of yours anyways?"
"When he stops going to a tailor and agrees to come shopping with me~"
You're laying in bed with Alastor one night, nuzzled under his chin and cuddling in his arms when he suddenly speaks
"You know that little...project I've been working on?"
You're nearly asleep, the feeling of his thumb rubbing your arm soothing you more than he realizes
"Mhm..."
"Well, I was thinking maybe I could take you with me tomorrow...everyone there has been dying to meet you."
You open your eyes to look at your husband, smiling at him as you lean up to kiss him softly
"More people who don't believe that you have a wife? I'll be happy to set the record straight~"
He chuckles and rolls you two over so that he's on top of you, kissing down your neck as his hands push up your nightgown
"I can't wait to show you off to everyone~"
The next day, Alastor takes your arm in his and leads you inside, you're more than a little surprised to see that his project is a hotel
You're a bit shocked to see so many familiar faces in front of you, Niffty running up to hug your leg and Husk giving you a lazy wave
Charlie, Vaggie and Angel are all staring you like you're a ghost, eyes slowly moving from Alastor to you over and over again
Charlie drops her tray of snacks in surprise, rushing up to give you a bone crushing hug while Vaggie stands in front of Alastor as if to protect you
"Y/N! What are you doing here!? Are you here to give redemption a try? Oh, I knew you would come around!!"
You laugh and hug her back while patting her head, gently prying her arms off of you so you can pet Niffty
"It's good to see you too, my dear princess, though I'm here with my husband."
Vaggie's jaw drops, and she whips around to look at you, jabbing a finger at Alastor as you see her trying to digest the truth in front of her
"You! A-and him!? The Radio Demon?!"
Alastor takes the opportunity to pull you back to his side, a loving arm around your waist as you happily lean on him, hand on his chest
"Everyone! This is Y/N, my lovely wife~! Y/N, please tell them all that you're here of your own volition and that you are happily married to the most wonderful demon in all of hell!"
You hear Angel trying to hold in his laughter, obviously flashing back to the many conversations he's had with you about your mysterious husband
"Yes yes, I'm happily married to him and I'm not under any mind control or deal or anything else like that~"
You can hear Vaggie's soul leave her body, Charlie's delighted squeal and Angel's uncontrollable laughter at the sight of you and Alastor rubbing noses in an obnoxiously cute manner
"This is the guy you've been buyin' all those sexy clothes for!? Oh my fuck!! This is too good!"
"I can't believe Alastor was your husband this whole time!! I knew he was secretly a big softie! Oh my gosh! You should hear how he talks about you it's so cute!!"
"...I don't get what you see in him..."
"I don't either, you know that when I first met her, she called him HARMLESS? She's delusional."
"He's a bad boy and she LIKES IT~!"
Your husband looks at you in confusion, gently stroking your cheek
"All this time I spent singing your praises to earn you a decent reputation around here was for nothing? I should've known you'd have stolen their hearts already~"
You smile and kiss Alastor's palm sweetly, earning a chorus of cooing and disgusted noises from your audience
"Actually, I've met everyone here before, darling... it seems we've been unintentionally been keeping our a marriage a secret from everyone!"
Charlie is just so enamored with the way you two interact as a couple, her eyes sparkling whenever she watches you two together
Vaggie is just disappointed in your taste in men and shakes her head whenever you two are affectionate, secretly she thinks it's cute
Angel gets a kick out bugging Alastor about the clothes he helped you pick out, always asking him if he liked the lingerie
Husk is just thankful for the distraction you prove to be for Alastor because then he has more time to himself, encourages you two to go on a lot of dates
Niffty is just crazy as always 😜 She likes you two together though and will stab anyone who tries to separate you two
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This one took so long!! I hope you like it!!
1K notes · View notes
ginevrapng · 9 months
Note
I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?
If not, I completely understand! <3
i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3
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there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.
you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.
he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.
james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.
remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.
sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.
you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.
"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.
this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.
they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.
"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.
you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"
"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.
you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.
fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.
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revasserium · 7 months
Note
can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)
hold me (still)
opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence
summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.
a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)
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You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.
“Come with us!”
“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.
Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.
“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”
And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.
It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.
Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.
“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.
“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.
“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.
“Oh, you like her.”
“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.
“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”
Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”
Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”
“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”
Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”
Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.
“Fine then. Go.”
Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.
“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”
“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.
“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”
“What, that a crime now?”
Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”
Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”
Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”
“And how’d you propose I do that?”
Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”
Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.
And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.
There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.
Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.
The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.
On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:
“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”
Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.
For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.
“Is it good?”
It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.
“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”
“Not exactly a glowing review.”
You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.
“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”
“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”
Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.
“And then what?” he asks.
“And then… he asks her to marry him.”
You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.
“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.
You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”
Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.
The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.
“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”
Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.
“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.
“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”
Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.
When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.
And you do.
He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.
But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.
The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.
On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —
“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”
You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.
“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.
Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.
Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.
“Could do with a good story.”
Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.
You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.
“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”
A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.
“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.
You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”
Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.
“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”
Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”
Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”
Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”
A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.
“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”
Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.
“Whoa… cool name!”
Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”
“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.
“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”
“I… I ran away.”
Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.
“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”
You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.
“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”
You nod, “Something like that.”
Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.
“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.
You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”
Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”
At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.
Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”
You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.
“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”
“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”
Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”
Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.
You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.
You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.
Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.
“Hey.”
You turn, “Hi.”
Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.
“Luffy’s right, y’know.”
“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.
“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”
You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”
“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.
You take a shivering breath and force it out again.
“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”
At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.
He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —
“But we can take it slow.”
You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.
You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.
The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.
You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.
Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.
Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”
Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.
You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.
It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.
When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.
The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.
“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.
To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”
You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.
“What is it?”
You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.
“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.
Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.
Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.
Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.
“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”
And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.
You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.
Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.
Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.
“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.
Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”
You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.
“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.
“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”
Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”
You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”
He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”
And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.
You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.
“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.
“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.
“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I know… and I’ve said before —”
“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.
You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”
You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.
“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”
You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”
“I could restoke the fire.”
“No, it’s — it’s okay.”
“Alright.”
A bird coos the distance.
“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.
In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”
“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”
Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.
He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.
“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”
His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”
You nod, “Still.”
Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”
You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”
Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”
There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.
You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.
You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.
“Gum Gum — Pistol!”
“Seize her!”
You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.
“No one… ever… leaves us…”
The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.
You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.
His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.
“Hey, look at me.”
You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.
“Z-Zoro?”
“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”
You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.
“Th-they’re here — they —”
“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”
Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.
“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —
You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.
“Zoro, I hurt you!”
At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.
“This is nothing. C’mon.”
He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.
“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.
Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.
They all pivot to look at you.
You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.
Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”
Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.
“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”
Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.
“Got something on your neck, mate.”
Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.
“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”
Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.
The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.
You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.
“Sorry.”
“I’m fine.”
You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”
“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”
You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.
“Hey, look at me.”
You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.
“I’m fine.”
And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —
The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.
For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.
For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.
For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.
And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.
“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.
Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.
You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.
“Crap, I forgot about these.”
Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.
“It’s okay. So did I.”
You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.
“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.
Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.
“So.”
You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.
You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.
“Right now? Not really.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.
You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.
“Can I ask for something else, though?”
“What is it?”
You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.
“Kiss me again.”
Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.
And does.
And does again.
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deafsignifcantother · 3 months
Text
the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
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Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remove down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, part scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.” 
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before). 
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame. 
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips. 
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.” 
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
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zooophagous · 5 months
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If you put a bunch of horses, zebras and donkeys in a large field together, with enough grass, vegetation, water, etc. to consume but without any human intervention - would there be interbreeding going on? If not, what do you think this scenario would look like more generally? Thanks in advance :)
Generally, when there is no human intervention, hybridization is very rare.
Horses are present in Africa, where there are populations of both wild ass and zebra, and yet wild zorse or even wild mules are basically unheard of. See also, the American southwest, where horses and burros are both invasive and yet you don't see feral mules among them.
This is because animals that have speciated, or become different species, have different estrus cycles, different courtship rituals and different behavior patterns that tend to make matings of this type very rare. Especially with horses, where mares tend to live in a herd that is protected by a stallion that will fight to the death over breeding rights to said mares.
A feral burro would not likely fare well against a feral horse stallion, if it attempted a mating with a feral mare at all.
You also see this even with animals that are much closer related to one another such as dogs, wolves and coyotes. All three of these animals have considerable overlap and can even produce viable offspring unlike a horse and a donkey. However it's still exceedingly rare for it to happen in the wild.
Wolves and coyotes are seasonal breeders that go into estrus at different times, and the strong territorial nature of these animals means they seldom mix. A wild wolf and a wild dog, or a wild dog and a wild coyote, or a wild wolf and wild coyote, are more than likely going to see each other as either a threat or a prey item and attack it accordingly.
Being raised by humans and made to tolerate one another with behavioral modification and artificial introductions to create cross species relationships, often by introducing the animals when they're still babies, gets them over the differences that usually prevent their union.
While sometimes wild hybrids do happen naturally, even then many times it's considered a survival response to pressures exerted on them by humans. See the eastern coyote, which is said to have considerable wolf ancestry, which may have happened because wolves were so strongly persecuted as to be almost entirely wiped out while the coyote was able to adapt. The more adaptable or desperate wolves threw their lot in with the survivors. (Though there is also some conjecture that even the eastern coyote is much less of a hybrid and more of just a large coyote without as much wolf or dog influence as previous believed)
Nature doesn't tend to encourage hybridization, and while you may get one or two fluke mules from such a group, if they had enough space to escape one another and access to their own kind to mate with, you wouldn't see it very much.
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