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kisses4lao · 6 months

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omg hear me out…kung lao x kitsune!reader where the reader like seduces him and they sleep together

Okay so I ended up doing some research for this bc I'm actually very into demonology and mythology and I found out that at certain ages kitsune can read minds???? Guys. The creative juices are flowing.

Also when I first read this I thought you meant seduction as in a succubus kind but I couldn't find ANYTHING on kitsune being able to do that cries so it'll be a semi normal romance

Tw/cw: certain parts may be mythologically incorrect for the sake of the plot, deal with it or don't I don't fucking care, AFAB reader, as always kung lao is horny, ooc kung lao, VIRGIN KUNG LAO GUYS, piv, readers a fucking tease, cursing

Not proofread fuck you

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It all started when he decided to go to Madame Bos with Raiden for the first time in a while.

You were a new server, just starting out as they were one of your very first tables. Kung Lao just couldn't help but notice your cute little ears; how they'd twitch at any sudden sound, and your adorable tails. He was obsessed with it all on first sight!

He'd talked to Raiden about you any time he could, he was so in love with how cute you were! It really wasn't his fault, or at least, that's what he decided to think when his work started to become sloppy because all he could think about was you.

He'd began to make special trips to Madame Bos just to see you. He'd specifically come when he knew there wouldn't be many people just so he could talk to you. The more and more he found out about you, the more in love he fell.

He started bringing you bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolate, which you'd usually share with him. He really relished every interaction you guys had and he ended up feeling bad about having dirty thoughts involving you.

He'd tell himself over and over that it wasn't his fault, it was yours! You were obviously seducing him! It got so out of hand he ended up reading a book(insane, I know) about kitsune and couldn't find anything on them being able to seduce humans.

This made him feel even more awful, now knowing that it was his own fault for having such perverted thoughts about you.

He felt horrible about how often he'd fuck his fist to the thought of you, hoping that one day you'd do it for him. He'd be blushing so hard seeing you afterwards, having such crazy thoughts while talking to you. Wondering what you'd sound like if he was able to touch you, wanting you to know how badly he needed you, but he has to keep it to himself for your sake.

If he would've read that book on kitsune for just a minute longer, he'd know that kitsune are able to read minds. But then again, if he did know that, he'd be too embarrassed to ever see you again. You knew everything that was going through his mind since the first time you met and you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the attention.

You'd end up teasing him just to get him going, seeing the look on his face when you'd brush against him suggestively was all you needed to do to hear his thoughts start to race.

However, on the other hand, you'd be lying if you said you didn't reciprocate his feelings. You were doing this for yourself too, wanting to see how long it takes for him to finally ask you out.

After a few weeks of the most unbearable mutual pining ever endured with multiple friends of Kung Laos being witnesses, he finally asked you out.

He decided to take you on a picnic in the sun, making a small basket filled with fruits sourced from his farm. Or at least, that was the plan. Unfortunately for the both of you, it had started raining as soon as you got to the clearing you planned to have the picnic at.

Kung Lao had apologized so many times that the word 'sorry' didn't sound like a word anymore. You settled on going back to your own cottage, setting up a soft blanket and setting your fireplace ablaze. You decided to have your picnic in front of the fireplace, the crackling sound of the wood burning and the soft rain hitting the roof made a perfect ambiance.

After a while of talking about random things, you decided to just out right tell him everything. "You know I can read minds, right? I could read yours ever since we first met."

The silence in the room was deafening. Kung Lao had stopped chewing on his strawberry just to stare at you in disbelief. You could tell all he was thinking about was... Nothing. Blank. Not a thought behind those eyes.

He turned away and he sighed, swallowing his strawberry before talking. "I'm.. sorry. Truly, I am. I just.. never felt like this with anyone before. I guess my feelings got the best of me. If you want me to leave, I will, but I promise I'll make it up to you, if you let me stay of course." You chuckle lightly at the last sentence, rubbing your hand on his arm while doing so.

"You're cute. Why do you think I agreed to a date? I feel the same way, silly." You give him a soft smile and kiss him on the cheek, resting your head on his shoulder.

You could feel him heat up, hear his mouth become dry by the seconds. "You.. feel the same? I- why didn't you tell me before? I would've taken you out so much earlier."

"I know, I just wanted you to ask me out. And here we are."

"So, you wanted me to ask you out first, that way you didn't have to be the first one to confess, even though you knew I liked you beforehand?"

"Well when you put it like that it sounds bad."

You both share a small laugh at each others expense, finding it silly how this could've been avoided if either one of you fessed up sooner. The laugh ended and you both looked at each other, making eye contact as you began to lean into him. Glancing down at his lips briefly, you connected them with yours in a gentle kiss. Kung Lao wasted no time reciprocating it, deepening it as his hands rested on your waist.

You softly bit his lower lip, being careful not to draw blood as he let out a groan of both pain and pleasure, giving you access to explore his mouth. He began to moan into the kiss more, tugging on your shirt as he leaned into you. Placing your hand on the back of his head, you climbed onto him and straddled his lap, having him moan at the sudden movement.

Suddenly, you could feel him leaning away from the kiss. Letting him go, you both caught your breath. "I've never done anything like this before- let alone kissed anybody." He was trying his best to avoid your gaze while still tugging slightly at your clothes. That when you noticed his aching member, right between your thighs, straining the confines of his uniform. How had you not noticed it sooner?

Everything started adding up. How he was moaning into the kiss, how he was tugging at your clothes, the beautiful moan he let out when you straddled him, he was turned on. You could feel yourself get wet at the thought of you being the one making him feel like this, this tall, gorgeous man writhing beneath.. you. You'd be damned if you let up this opportunity.

"I don't exactly have much experience in this department either. How about we learn together?" You tried to make it very clear that you wanted him, as a friend, a partner, a mate, everything. You wanted him. You climbed off his lap, taking off his belt and unzipping his pants slowly waiting for any protest.

You look up at him, his face is completely red, mouth agape and breathing heavily. The way the fire beside you illuminated him made him look ethereal, like you just wanted to make him feel as good as possible simply because of how good he looked. You pull down his boxers, pleasantly surprised at how big he was, much bigger than anyone you had ever seen before. He let out a soft groan at the feeling of his cock being free, before groaning again at the feeling of your lips enveloping his tip.

Your one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other hand gripping his thigh for stability. You slowly took your mouth off his tip before making small kitten licks, flattening your tongue to cover his whole tip. The sweet moans he'd let out were enough to keep you going, making you take his whole tip in again before sinking down on him more.

You attempted to fit as much of his cock in your mouth as possible, bobbing your head up and down and swirling your tongue the best you could- pumping what you couldn't fit with your hand. Your saliva started to trickle down his cock, smearing onto his balls and soaking the blanket beneath him. His moans increased in volume as he gripped onto the blanket more than he already was.

He felt himself reaching his climax, being soo overwhelmed that you were actually here, willingly sucking him off. He had gotten off so many times before to the thought of it that now that it was happening he had no control over his urges. His hand wandered to scratch behind your ear, giving you the incentive that he's close. Your hand that was previously on his thigh goes to his balls, stroking them slightly as you could feel him climax in your mouth.

It caught you off guard and you slowly took your mouth off his cock, licking up the mess. "I'm so sorry- I should've warned you where I'm sensitive- I- I didn't know I'm sorry-" you cut him off by kissing him, making him taste his cum on your tongue still. "You're fine, you taste good, too. I'll have to remember that for next time." You give him a wink before grabbing another blanket.

You drape it behind him and use it to pull him closer to you. "Will you please make love to me by this oh-so warm fireplace, oh mighty Kung Lao?" You say with a chuckle. He laughs as he begins to undress you, "when you say it like that, how could I ever resist?"

You share another deep kiss as he undresses the both of you, discarding your clothes as he places your legs on his side. Leaning closer into you, he lines his member up with your hole, looking at you for permission. "Ready?"

"Never more." You both share another smile before he slowly enters you, your arms instinctively tangling around his neck for stability. Your soft tails poking out from beneath came to Kung Laos sides, rubbing against him as he lay atop of you, waiting for you to adjust. He slowly strokes your ears and kisses at your neck as he awaits your response.

When you give him the green light, he raises himself up, grabbing a hold of your waist as he begins pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. The two of you exchanged soft pleas too one another as he began to speed up. The noises of slapping enveloped the room you were in as the both of you held onto each other like your lives depended on it.

Kung Laos pace had increased greatly from when he started , beginning to make you feel dizzy off the pleasure he was giving you. You began to moan out his name as you could feel yourself getting close. He kissed at your neck, leaving small hickeys around your collar bone as he gritted his teeth in pleasure.

"Lao- please-"

"I know hon- you can do it, come for me, please, I need you."

You came with a harsh moan, practically screaming his name as you came down from your high. Kung Lao followed soon after, he was about to pull out before he came, getting ready to before he felt your legs tighten around his waist, trapping him inside you.

"inside. Please." You begged. At this point, Kung Lao would listen to anything you said. Begging him to cum inside you had his heart melting and he did it in an instant. He collapsed next to you, taking in in how warm you are as he wraps his arms around your waist again.

"I should get you something. Like a water maybe, or a washcloth? You may wanna clean your thighs." You smile at his concern.

"Aftercare can wait for the morning. I just want to be with you right now." You say as you look into his eyes. They soften as his mouth curls into a smile, kissing you on the forehead before cuddling into you more. Letting the heat from the fireplace envelope the both of you as you drift into a comfortable sleep.

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A/n: ooga booga

#mortal kombat smut #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #kung lao smut #kung lao mk1 #kung lao mortal kombat #kung lao #kung lao x reader smut #mortal kombat x reader smut #mk smut

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sugarloofy · 1 year

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Valentine's Day Hcs for the Avatar boys (Modern! AU)

(Seperate) Neteyam, Lo'ak, Ao'nung,& Roxto x gn!reader.

reader and the character is implied to already have an established relationship with each other!

A.N.

This is my first time writing something like this, I hope you enjoy it :D

I apologize if anything is ooc 😭

Also i was supposed to post this like... Months ago but i didn't have the balls, so um.. Enjoy this post 👍👍

- Hana☆

Neteyam ♥

Would prepare a lot beforehand

Like it would be a few weeks before Valentine's and he'd be sweating and thinking about it, change my mind.

His siblings just gotta hear all about it, all the time lol. "do you think [name] would like this color??"

Asks you totally non-suspicious questions regarding about your favorite deserts & flavors a few days before Valentine's...

" Say, do you like cookies or meringues more?" "Do you like chocolate or vanilla? Or maybe strawberry, blueberry... "

Handmade deserts all the way>>>

Definitely uses a box with hearts and stuff on it (he's so cute i, I just can't)

Gives you heartfelt letters + storebought chocolate + homemade deserts + flower bouquet (ABSOLUTELY BOYFRIEND MATERIAL???) (Marry this man already.)

He'll be shy n all when he gives you the giftbox <3 (such a sweetheart istg)...

You were... Safe to say really flustered by the sudden gift from him. You were blushing, and so was he.

You accepted the gift from him happily! Then you decided to hug him, you were just so happy... He was surprised at first but then he welcomed you in his arms, returning the hug with a smile ♡.

Lo'ak ♥

Bro would forget about it until one of his friends or his siblings talk about it 💀

Would absolutely speed run to the nearest supermarket to buy you some chocolate bars and some snacks/drinks you like tho <3

(Accidentally tripped at some point 😭)

Writes you the most cheesiest ass mf Valentine's Day note known to man (would include some cheesy pick up line too omfg)

Comes to you all scuffed and sweaty from all that running. He's outta breath while handing you the things he bought. (He's so silly)

Is being bold and cool about it but he's actually screaming inside.

At first, you were kind of confused. Like?? Why are you out of breath lol??? You asked him but he dodged the question and averted your attention to the gift.

You then accepted the gift while laughing a little because of how ridiculous he looked. He may have almost forgotten that it was Valentine's today, but either way he still made it and you're happy ♡ it's a win for him.

Ao'nung ♥

He would remember about it but pretends to be all clueless and shit about it to you. (MENACE...)

If you ask him about it, he'll tease you for wanting gifts from him.

Actually led you to believing that he didn't prepare a gift for you because he kept dodging the question.

Actually prepared you a big-ass giftbox for you full of your favorite snacks & drinks and some chocolates. (Tsireya told on him lmaoo) (SIMP ALERT 🚨)

(When Tsireya told the big news to you, you couldn't help but smile ♡ just still a tad bit annoyed that he pretended not to remember. /he's so silly)

Roxto & Tsireya keeps teasing it about him the whole time lolol

Ends up giving it to you at the end of the day. Tries to act all cool about it but we all can see you blushing, Ao'nung. ♡

Roxto ♥

Remembers about it and definitely planned on buying you chocolate on secret.

There were so much selections he actually got confused on which one to get but didn't want to spoil the surprise by asking.

Calls Ao'nung for help (spoilers: it did not help) , ended up buying based on what he thinks you would like... He went through many many stages of overthinking. (Stayed long enough for the store employee to approach him and offers to help 😭😭)

"Hey this one looks good.. But what if [name] likes the other one better???" "For Eywa's sake Roxto just pick one!"

Halfway through he overthinks and is hella worried you might not like the stuff he bought. (Tsireya & Ao'nung convinced him that it's the thought that counts!!!).

Just like Ao'nung, he'll try to be cool and sincere when giving it to you, but bro's avoiding eye contact and messes up his words.

(You can see Tsireya & Ao'nung cheering for him in the bushes with their poorly made disguises... )

But at the end of the day, you accepted his gift and gave him a kiss on the cheek for the effort ♡♡

#loak x you #loak sully #lo'ak x reader #loak fluff #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak fluff #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung fluff #roxto #roxto x reader #roxto x y/n

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thesoulesscollection · 2 years

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"i think we both need a therapist to figure out whatever the hell this is." A mumbles against B's lips. "It's getting to my head." - my horrible HORRIBLE crack ship.

"Stop smiling. It does things to me I'd rather not talk about." - Roseright :)

"you really can't tell, can you?" A says. "I'm embarrassed by my feelings for you. I'm so dumb for keeping them alive. i love you. there. you heard it. happy now?" - grumpy old men.

Heya, thank you so much for this and I apologize for the long wait. I decided to do all three to make up for it and personally, I enjoy the three ships. As always my ask box is open for anyone to flood it.

Suction Cup Man x Reginald Copperbottom

I struggled a little with this one since Scp is a new character for me to write. So he may be a little Ooc and this one-shot may be on the short side;

On the glass wall of the airship, Reginald felt his back being roughly pressed up against it as the other man locked lips with his.

"I think we both need a therapist to figure out whatever the hell this is." Reginald mumbles against Scm's lips. "It's getting to my head."

"Fuck. Really? Suction Cup Man doesn't need therapy"

Actually snorting quite loudly in his face the other man deepened it, Reginald mildly annoyed had somehow remained compliant in the sloppy kiss.

"'Ay… I don't see you complaining too much 'til now?" Pulling back from the kiss, Scm smugly grins, loud voice breathlessly echoing in the room. "... And fuck therarpy to you too… I don't think you need it, Regs"

Reginald's initial irritation softened, a weak smile playing itself onto his lips, only ever reserved for the people he truly cared for and in his amazement Scm managed to weasel a way into his heart.

"Okay. Maybe I don't necessarily need it. But you still drive me mad sometimes. You know that, correct?" Whispering softly in the man's ear, Reginald brushes long brown locks out the way.

"Hm"

***

RoseRight

Ellie huffs, flustered when sinking into her chair, "Stop smiling. It does things to me I'd rather not talk about"

"What?" Right is confused, staring down at the woman who is trying to hide, "I don't understand?"

Scooting up in her seat, so she can sit normally, the woman waves her hands up in the air and makes indistinguishable signals.

"You're smiling. It's too much for me. Your smile is adorable! You're adorable! I don't know how you can be so oblivious and so cute!?"

How when the man smiled, it was small, shy, and hesitant like he wasn't used to doing it. Freckled cheeks pushing up into his eyes, one closing while the other half lidded and glossy always stared at her. It was like she's the source to his soft grins, muffled laughter, and his softening up from the tough, unfeeling man he had been before.

"So you think my smile is too much for you? That's new" Confusion turned to another emotion, playfulness, Right can't help it to smile.

"... Yes… Soak that all in, why don't you… I know you are…" Ellie groans, seeing with an outright grimace at the giddiness in the man. "... Your smile is amazing. I love you too much sometimes…"

At her side, Right then bent down to her eye level and planted a kiss, reassuring her in his own way.

"I am. Though for your sake, I do enjoy… Your smile too. It makes my day much better"

Savoring the woman's glorious breathlessness, Right continues in his attack, smooching copious amounts of kisses on her face and lips.

***

Grumpy Old Men

Pre-Canon; Grumpy Old Men where they're in their middle-latish twenties here and still attempting to develop their feelings for one another;

When Quentin came strutting into his room where Hershell was currently lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, mind on so many things, and doing his best to ignore the younger man.

"You miss me, Hersh? I know you do. Who wouldn't" Sarcastically spoken by Quentin who had plopped down at the bed's edge.

"Quentin. Please. Go away. I don't feel too well and I have a headache coming on"

Biting his bottom lip, Hershell wanted to be alone yet here he is getting anxious when Quentin makes his black and white world turn colorful.

"You just say that 'cause you want to be 'left alone' and be an asshole" Quentin shifts his position on the flimsy mattress, now above the other soldier, hands glued firmly on each side. "Now tell me. What's exactly wrong, big guy? You've been on edge around me for days. I want to know why"

The cot couldn't fit them both comfortably, so Hershell can feel the man deliberately feeling him up for security. Not as if he was complaining, rather it was the opposite and he secretly enjoyed the warmth pressed up on his broad chest. A growing problem, a ridiculously childish crush for another, he wanted it to go away, to be what once was, two close friends yet it was stubborn, like Quentin that didn't get the hint. Somehow Quentin can be both incredibly flirtatious but so oblivious at the same time.

"You really can't tell, can you?" Hershell says. "I'm embarrassed by my feelings for you. I'm so dumb for keeping them alive. I love you. There. You heard it. Happy now?"

Silence overcame the pair, Quentin finally managed to shut up, his cheeks puffing up whereas Hershell folded his hands over his chest and wished to disappear.

"I. You do?"

"Yes. I love you, Quentin. I'm surprised as much as you are" Hershell bluntly said.

Then the comforting heat he experienced cuts away as Quentin suddenly appears reluctant, expression scrunched up. "So you like me, huh?" He returned to his seat at the cot's edge.

"Yup"

"This. This is new"

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quitesins · 2 years

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Stupid shit they do with their quirks [crack]

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, Hcs, Crack/ Mostly Humour, shitpost, gn!reader but reader isn’t involved in each one, teeny bit fluffy, aged up characters for the sake of romantic intent idk [3rd year/18], might be ooc, I don’t remember anything from mha

The boys do dumb shit with their quirks, this may be funnier in my head-

Bakugou

No one knows this, but he can create tiny fireworks in his palms. He’s always been good at quirk control, being praised for its power and force, but he’s never shown anyone this skill. The little sparks that mimicked a New Years sky; Pretty specks of colours floating in his hands, unusually gentle. Maybe he’ll show you one day, you always did seem so fascinated by his quirk… fuckin’ nerd.

Deku

With that many quirks, he’s bound to fuck up, in the most ridiculous ways… like the time he used black whip to be lazy and grab something, only to end up wrapped around your body, tugging you closer. The embarrassment of the situation made him set off another quirk, float. Before you knew it, you were struggling to stay grounded, dragged by black whip and the levitating boy.

Todoroki

I mean, he’s a prodigy, so he knows the ins and outs of his quirk pretty well. Still, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been coaxed into doing some dumb shit by Denki his friends. Like the time he got roped into cooking meat on his shoulder. It didn’t work, just caught fire and then promptly put out by a returning Iida. He was practically sent to bed like a child, not before being scolded by the bespectacled man. Yeah. Being treated like a toddler by a man his own age, not the best, but he cant deny, he definitely warranted that treatment.

Kirishima

It’s safe and all, but there’s something about watching a man aggressively punch nails into the wall, with his bare hands, that’s just… unsettling. Or how he will use his literal teeth to tow cars, sure his jaw will be left unscathed but it still makes you wince. He seems to love it though, even allowing himself to be used as a battering ram at one point. Smile wide on his face before being smashed through a hardwood door. Kirishima… Never change.

Denki

Oh beloved Denki, what hasn’t he tried with his quirk. Give him some credit though, with a quirk like that, the possibilities are endless. Endlessly stupid, for the most part. Tried powering his gaming pc for session but ended up fainting and losing all his saves because he ran out of energy midway. Also once siphoned Bakugou’s phone of all the charge, in turn breaking it, and almost getting his bones broken by the explosive boy before Kirishima stopped him.

Sero

Despite his laid back attitude, he’s not immune to getting annoyed, especially when Bakugou seems to have an endless supply of curses to bark early in the morning. So one day, instead of waiting it out, Sero just stood, walked over to Bakugou, and taped the fucker up. Maybe he had been tired, sleepy from the lack of rest, but as soon as he realised what he’d done, Sero was running for his damn life. Nothing could hold a feral Bakugou.

Tokoyami

This man does nothing stupid with his quirk, it’s all just cute. Well, he might be embarrassed but isn’t it sweet when Dark Shadow yaps away, practically spilling all the adorable secrets of a baby Tokoyami. While the adult Tokyami still tries to affirm his place as a mystery… an obscurity… an enigma- who used to eat seeds straight from the bird feeder and sometimes chirps when he’s happy!

Silly lil drabbles because I got bored. Once again, is probably funnier in my head… anyways, I’ll have some actual fics out soon- probably- maybe? Hopefully… so don’t worry! The shit posts wont be often!!

#mha headcanons #mha crack #gn reader #fanfiction #mha x reader #mha imagines

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cptspiegel · 2 years

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Cooking for Them!

I got this idea while watching master chef. I go crazy for anything super domestic, so indulge me a bit here lol

Fandoms included (in order of appearance): Bleach, Boku No Hero Academia, & Naruto

Warnings: none, fluff, no specific pronouns for reader, some stuff may be ooc but this is how I see the characters!

Ichigo Kurosaki

Honestly Ichigo stays out of your way, at least while you're cooking dinner.

He likes to lean or sit on the counter and snack on the little things you hand him.

Naturally, Ichigo sits there and just watches you. He loves the way you move so fluidly around the kitchen. It's like you're floating.

In my mind Ichigo is the type to take photos of the food/of him eating.

He wouldn't post it on social media, but he'll send it to close friends.

Before and after photos of him completely demolishing his plate.

Somehow always ends up with food on his shirt but in a cute way.

If you get him full enough Ichigo will fall sleep at the table.

Please let him dip his fingers in the dessert that you're making.

Be ready to snatch any chocolate chips because if not he will eat them all.

You know those little boxes with the layers? The bentos?

Ichigo loves those. He keeps one tucked in his robe when in the soul society because, "the food here sucks."

Byakuya Kuchiki

Listen, we can't pretend like this man hasn't been cooked for his whole life.

It's a little different with you though because you aren't someone who works for the family. Not that he doesn't care about those people it's just they aren't you.

"You don't have to do that." Byakuya told you multiple times.

"I know, I like to. Go sit."

He does, but not before getting some tea and a notebook to write in.

Why?

Because every meal you cook Byakuya writes down the date and what you made.

He writes the faces you make when you take your first bite. Whether or not you served it with tea or sake.

Byakuya buys you top shelf cooking utensils and supplies.

Aprons galore!!

He asks to sit in front of you while you cook and it sort of becomes a little bit of couple time.

You two usually talk over dinner anyway, but it's something different about those pre-meal conversations.

I don't see him being the type to wash dishes.

He is still a noble after all.

But I do see Byakuya stacking them and making them neat for those who clean up after you.

He brings you your bed side tea personally since you serve him dinner.

Shunsui Kyoraku

You're making breakfast food the most often, for multiple reasons.

One main reason is because this man naps all day.

He rarely wants to be waken up for lunch.

And Shunsui likes to go out for dinner most nights.

The other main reason is because Shunsui likes to party a lot.

A big greasy, unhealthy, carb heavy breakfast makes him feel like the leftover sake (and the hangover) is being sucked from his body.

There's nothing like waking up to some of the best smells in the world and the best sight in the world.

(that sight being you obv)

You know he's up because of the grunts and feet barely lifting off the floor.

He does not let go of you.

Like seriously this arms are wrapped around you twice with his head on your shoulder.

His eyes are closed and he's just going to town with the smooches.

Shunsui lays with his kimono open patting his belly when done.

Shouta Aizawa

This one is different because it's not necessarily cooking for him.

The food usually goes to your pets or his students.

Not because he didn't love it. How could he dislike it?

That's just how things ended up.

Aizawa definitely hands out snacks during the breaks on training days. Replenishing muscles and what not for growing kids is important, but the store bought stuff is kinda bleh.

At least to you it is, so you make these awesome tasty bars for everyone.

Aizawa munches on one himself while rolled up in his sleeping bag.

The students love them. There's never a crumb left & always request for more.

Now the pet situation is the cutest thing.

I think Aizawa is a cat guy, but if you're allergic to cats that's okay because your house is filled with other animals.

Dogs, frogs, birds, lizards. Literally anything that breathes and can be taken care of.

It makes this man weak in the knees when he comes home to you throwing different things in the food processor & slapping them into molds for the pets to eat.

"Is this for Rambo?"

You nod your head. "I've got some for Coco, Simba, and even Lionel from next door!"

Please, the man wants to cry.

Shigaraki Tomura

Let's be frank. Not much cooking is going on within the LOV.

You really don't have much to work with to begin with.

There's no pots or pans.

The water runs, but the stove is there strictly for decoration.

The fridge works, but there's never much in it.

To make lemonade out of lemons you spice up cup ramen for Shigaraki.

Even going as far as to put some pieces of lunch meat in there for him.

Just for Shig not to eat it because he doesn't trust it. Why be nice to him? Eat it yourself if nothing is wrong with it.

Then it finally clicks that you're showing him genuine affection.

You get the smallest little, "thank you" one day & it makes you want to jump and click your heels.

The guy doesn't take too good care of himself.

When he's not scheming, fighting, or just doing villain things, Shigaraki is playing video games.

You don't have to say anything at a certain point.

With a cup of ramen in hand for yourself, you hand one off to Shigaraki.

He promptly pauses his game, says thank you, and slurps down his noodles.

He doesn't cook in return. But Shigaraki does "buy" your favorite flavors & he makes sure the place you all hide out in has running water and a microwave at the very least.

Jiraiya

Man spends a lot of time on the road & you seem to know when he's going to be assigned a mission before he does.

But just packing things for him to snack on isn't a good idea because he'll either eat it all in two days or it'll get spoiled when he uses his bag to blind an opponent.

Something you learned the hard way, but you couldn't leave your man hanging.

He genuinely loves every meal you cook him. The domestic action is such a muse for him.

It leads Jiraiya to modeling a character after you in a slow burn romance novel. (It doesn't sell like Icha-Icha but it's the thought that counts lol)

Anyway, you make sun dried meals for Jiraiya. Little packets of seasoning to go with it & lovely containers of something simple and sweet like pudding.

Jiraiya came home from meeting with the Hokage & the kitchen looked like a science lab.

You had on a tank top, apron, and were zooming around the kitchen.

There were vegetables on the window sill to dry in the sun and Jiraiya went straight to them.

"Don't you touch those! They're for you trip!"

He isn't listening, still reaching for the food.

You have to kick off a shoe and toss it at his head. "I said don't eat it!"

"Ow!" Jiraiya looks at you with that dramatic pouting face, but it quickly turns into a face of gratitude. "How'd you know?" He asked.

You shrugged. "My intuition I guess." You turned back to the stove to finish his potatoes.

Jiraiya just watched. He didn't have to say thank you, you already knew he was thankful.

Missions sucked, he didn't like being away from you. But when he's taking a break under a tree, assembling a meal from you with some hot water Jiraiya can't help but to smile.

The little "I love you" written on the bottom of the box is a nice touch.

Kakashi Hetake

In my world Kakashi doesn't like to use your front door.

He knows your routine down to the minute & likes to show up to your place just before dinner time.

But he's at your kitchen window, perched on a tree, waving with that one eyed grin.

It becomes such a habit that you picked a place for him at the table.

"Ya know the door works just fine Kakashi."

"But how will I be able to follow behind you with the drinks?"

You looked at him with squinted eyes and just laugh a little.

Kakashi is the one that cooks with you as well.

No teaching at the academy? He's got his own apron and is cooking with you.

Kakashi cooked for himself as a child and it showed.

His knife skills? Out of this world.

You basically become his sous chef. Leaning back and just watching the man work.

His steamed dumplings are the absolute best.

Kakashi cooks in your kitchen so much he knows where everything is & moves around like it's his own.

He surprised you one night with a spread to celebrate an anniversary.

"how'd you get in here Hetake?" You weren't mad just very confused.

"You should lock your window." He said leading you to the table.

"I did..."

"Nevermind that try this fish!"

665 notes · View notes

alrightberries · 3 years

Text

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst. ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands.

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it.

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless.

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice.

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand.

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses.

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations.

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.”

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in.

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for.

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed.

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity.

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head.

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.”

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes.

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?”

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more.

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.”

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant.

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home.

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#the bit where levi visits oc #is my favorite part to write #and the lil banter at the start too #i love banter but i also love sweet little words #this is proof that i can be romantic without calling someone a dumbass #writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine

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infernalrevenge · 3 years

Text

Nerves to the Nines

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: T (for negative self-talk in some parts)

Summary: Reader is attending the Gathering of Lords with Alcina and is too nervous to even dress themself properly. Luckily, their lover is here to save the day.

Notes: I have no idea if Alcina may be OOC here, just know that I love the thought of very powerful and intimidating people being soft and protective only for those they love, and that's partly what spawned this thing. That, and the idea of how intimate it is to have your significant other help you get dressed for an important event (that I completely made up for the sake of this fic.)

Also thank you so much for 50 followers :D May not be a big number, but it's more than I expected when I started writing here a few months ago haha

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Two hours to go before the Gathering of Lords.

You went through the mental checklist as you assessed yourself in the mirror. Hair done, make-up done, clothes... well, most of them were on.

You wanted to dress to impress, but not stand out either. A black button up rested on your frame and loose wide-legged pants to match, where your cream-colored shoes peeked out from the bottom. The burgundy blazer you were going to wear over it was hung in front of your closet, and the white rose you would pin onto the lapel sat on the vanity.

It was meant to be an inverse of Alcina's usual attire. She was going to bring a burgundy shawl as well to complement the outfit. Daniela said it would look cute.

But right now, the idea of wearing an extra layer was unwanted. You were too warm right now, and the last thing you wanted was to sweat through your clothes. Everything had to be perfect -- you had to be perfect, lest you sully the "good name of House Dimitrescu" in front of your lover's siblings, and Mother Miranda.

You knew how important tonight was to Alcina, and she wanted you to be a part of it all. She was looking forward to it as much as you and the girls were; when Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were told they could come, they immediately squealed and started chattering away with you about what they were going to do, what to wear, what you were going to wear, and seemed to already have everything planned in their heads. Their excitement rubbed off on you for the rest of the week, and the happy jitters only got more intense with every passing day.

But the closer the time got to leaving for the Gathering, the more those jitters made you feel like throwing up.

You sat in front of the mirror and idly fiddled with your unbuttoned sleeve cuff, feeling the nerves of tonight bundling up in your chest. One leg bounced under the table impatiently; you had to get the energy out somehow.

You want to go, you reminded yourself. You wanted to go. You still want to go... right? You had been looking forward to this all week, of course you want to go. Just pull yourself together. You took in a deep breath and clapped your hands together.

Wait, when did they get so sweaty? If you tried to shake anyone's hand, they'd be weirded out and disgusted. How can you get it to stop? This is so stupid, why are you worried about sweaty hands all of a sudden?! Control yourself, idiot! This was not the time to worry about such trivial matters, but why did it feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest? It's going so fast, you started to wonder what it could be running from.

This was a mistake, you shouldn't go. You'll just embarrass yourself, and Alcina, and you can't handle that kind of pressure. The scrutiny you'll be under would be crushing, you could practically feel the air getting sucked out of you. This was a mistake, this was a mistake.

You undid the buttons on your shirt, ready to take it off. Just say you don't feel well, that's a good enough excuse. This was a mistake, this was a mistake--

"Y/N, are you alright?" You heard her voice in your room, and she had already ducked inside by the time you turned around. You sucked in a sharp breath.

I'm not feeling well, I think I should stay home.

The lie you had concocted got stuck in your throat as you looked up into her golden eyes, clearly concerned. You didn't want to worry her. You wanted to go. You did.

Instead, you swallowed it and tried to keep your voice steady, "Yeah, yes. I'm just, I'm having a bit of trouble with..."

You looked down at your fully opened shirt, gulping again. "I can't..." Why won't your hands stop shaking?

"What's wrong, my love?"

Alcina was standing at full height, and to any other person, having her look down at you like this might have felt condescending -- an effort to exert power and establish authority. But somehow, being under her shadow in what had felt like a bright room... it was comforting. Just to know she was there, physically. To know that she saw you as you were at the moment, trying to be brave.

"I'm just... nervous, that's all," you finally managed to admit, and it felt like a weight had just been lifted off your shoulders. You relaxed only a fraction though, remembering what the night was going to bring.

In about an hour and a half.

She sat down on your bed, her knees tucked in a bit considering its height. "Perhaps if we talk, you can settle your nerves." She presented the space in front of her, as if she knew you couldn't bring yourself to sit at the moment.

You started rolling the button on your cuff between your fingers, your arm close to your chest like you were trying to protect yourself. From what, you weren't sure.

"What are you nervous about?" she spoke softly, quite a contrast from the usual commanding tone she took on when she spoke to almost everyone else. "Are you worried about not looking right? Because I assure you, darling, you look wonderful -- you deserve nothing less than the best."

"No, I... well it was your idea for us to dress like this, so no, that's not... what I'm worried about." You looked up from under your lashes. Her eyes were still focused on you. You wanted to squirm, and your next words came out softer than you wanted them to.

"I just... don't wanna mess up."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you." If you were any other person, she might have lost her temper at your mumbling. You almost flinched at the thought, but you knew she would never. Not with you.

"I-I don't want to mess up." You said a little louder as you folded your hands, one holding onto the other wrist. "You know, like, in front of your siblings, in front of... Mother Miranda... I'm afraid of embarrassing myself in front of them."

She frowned and leaned forward, "What could you possibly do that would embarrass me?"

You shrugged, wanting to shrink in on yourself. "I don't know, I might say something weird or do something that'll seem off, or just, I'm not sure. Something's probably gonna go wrong. Maybe even being myself is embarrassing enough," you joked.

"Darling, you are not embarrassing," she assured. You didn't know if she knew that you meant it as a joke, but she said it with such sincerity that it pulled some of that weight off you once more. It brought a small smile to your face.

"Do you not want to go anymore?" she asked worriedly, and you snapped your head up at that.

"No, I want to!" You answered so fast that Alcina seemed surprised but definitely not displeased

"I'm excited to go, I really am. I'm just not sure if I'm, like, ready to face the others. I wanna go, but I don't know, I can't explain it, I just don't want things to go badly because it'll reflect on you and your daughters and I know how much you want to be in Mother Miranda's favor so I--"

She took your wrist without a word, so gentle in her handling that you barely noticed it at first, and you trailed off. Her fingers fixed up your loosened cuff -- oh, right. Any more stubborn fiddling with it and you would've taken the button right off its threads. She did the same with the other cuff, a calm yet unreadable expression on her painted face.

When she finished, she gently smoothed your hair down, traced your jawline with a finger and tilted your chin up to look at her. "If you're worried about what everyone else would think, I understand. But you are my significant other, my lover. I trust that you'll be wonderful, so know that at least one person there believes in you."

It felt like you were really seeing her for the first time that night, looking so proud when she talked about you. She took the opportunity to fix the rest of your outfit, buttoning up your shirt once more, and kept talking to ease your mind.

"Don't ever doubt me, Y/N, because I've seen you at both your best and your worst, and your best is more than enough for tonight. If they can't see that, then it's their loss, not yours."

You could feel her words physically calming you, heartbeat steadying as you saw the loving gleam in her eyes.

The lady sauntered over to your closet, taking your blazer and handing it over to you. "Now, I believe you're missing a piece, my dear." You hadn't even noticed until then that she was already wearing her shawl. A gentle smile finally broke through your facade as you pulled it on in front of the mirror.

Alcina stood behind, laying her hands on your shoulders when you seemed satisfied. "A perfect match," she cooed, leaning down to face you, so close that you could feel her breath against the shell of your ear. "Wouldn't you say?" You could feel your heart racing again, but it wasn't from any nerves this time.

But before anything could be done about it, the moment was interrupted by multiple knocks on the door, followed by a loud thud. "Mother, Y/N, we're ready!" Bela called out from the other side, fussing over her sisters immediately afterwards. "May we come in?"

Alcina raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well? We shouldn't keep them waiting."

You felt loosened up for the first time that night, ready to face anything with Alcina by your side. You pinned the rose in place and took one last glance in the mirror. "We could always be fashionably late."

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8

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junova · 3 years

Text

↬ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 | 𝐫. 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞

abstract — the one where ransom gets a taste of his own medicine, but you happen to be so much sweeter than he’s ever been.

pairing — ooc!ransom drysdale x fem!reader

wc — 4.1k+ im so sorry lmao

warnings — cheating (if u squint its very vague), angst, fluff, slight self deprecation, ransom is kinda nice idk, i want a soft!ransom drysdale now pls, this is also very messy so read at ur own risk!

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! first time ransom fic. woot woot! still kinda finding my voice w writing so i hope you like it! <333

His mouth set in a hard line as you continued to curl into his chest, the span of your confidence seemed to be wiped away with a nightmare from the past. Part of him was upset you hadn’t told him anything, the blind leading the blind, as you stepped foot into his family event. Seeing the last person you’d ever thought would be there.

Surely by now, he thought you would trust him but it was more than evident you still didn’t. You persisted on hiding everything from him, anything you were sure might tick him off.

Well, Ransom wasn’t necessarily known for biting his tongue. Although, in your presence, he was learning what to say and where to say it.

It really surprised him. Not one woman had been able to tame him, not since he’d be fucking everyone in sight. His desire was endless and not one single individual would be enough for his fill.

Then, he found you drunk and sobbing on the concrete, right outside of the bar he was exiting. To this day, he still couldn’t tell you why he stopped for you. He never really paid attention to anyone if it wasn’t to his own benefit. Ultimately, meeting you was, even if he wouldn’t realize it then.

You flinched from his touch when he patted your shoulder, gently asking if you were alright. If anyone asked him, Ransom would surely deny he felt you pull at the strings of his heart in an instant.

He just knew.

Maybe it’s why it took him so long to accept it, to believe in what he felt for you. Definitely not because you did nothing but be the most wonderful human he’d ever met. More had to do with him.

Ransom dropped you off the first night you met in your small apartment downtown, definitely on the rougher side where he thought his Rolex sporting his wrist may get stolen.

A cute little thing like you living in a neighborhood like this — didn’t make much sense to him. Then again, it certainly checked out with his privilege why he didn’t.

Truly, Ransom didn’t realize how fortunate he truly was. Of course being a trust fund brat gave him the ignorance to live in an unmatched state of bliss.

He still remembers the moment.

Watching as you fumbled with your keys, finding it more than difficult to open your front door. It was cute, with your tongue poking out between your lips in concentration. Now, he wondered how he’d forgotten why he’d gone to get hammered at the bar in the first place.

“Here, let me help.” New to Ransom, he offered a giving hand. Grabbing the key from your jittering fingertips before unlocking your door. He tried to hand you back your keys, but you pulled him so close, your chest touching his own. Dragging two rapid hearts through your apartment.

“You smell like him.” A dopey smile on your face lighting every dark sight of Ransom, not that you’d know it did. “I smell like who?”

“My ex-boyfriend.” Your hands cupping his cheek, but you were too drunk to realize how Ransom flinched from your touch.

He didn’t push you away either.

“But he definitely didn’t look this good.” Defying all laws of his own nature, Ransom let you stay in close proximity to him as you felt him up. Your hand resting on his chest, traveling lower stopping at his stomach. “Definitely didn’t feel this good.”

He watched as you sighed, your puffy eyes were only slightly swollen and the mascara was still staining your skin with the rest of the makeup you wore. If anyone had asked him, you’d looked like a wreck but he still found you alluring.

Ransom always liked his women looking more than fucked out, usually from gagging around his cock. Not crying over a broken heart. Nope. He definitely did not like dealing with a woman's sorrow.

“He never let me touch him though. Guess that should have tipped me off.” You let your hands travel back up, wounding themselves around his neck before they applied more pressure — pulling him into you.

Ransom found you pretty confident for not even knowing anything more than his first name and the car he drove you in. You were definitely craving attention and maybe he’d be more than happy to oblige but the little voice in his head Dr. Shoal told him to listen to was being a pestering, little bitch.

What did Ransom want?

Right now he wanted to drown himself in some sweet ass pussy. He knew you would give yourself easily to him, especially in your drunken state. Clinging onto him like he was a vine.

The smaller part of him, the better part, knew you were drunk out of your mind. Absolutely plastered, but you had to stand there looking like a goddess.

He didn’t really know why he was letting you touch him, maybe in hopes the deeper, darker side of him would win like it always did. Ransom knew better, even if he tried to hide it from everyone including himself.

He liked you. From the very first moment, he knew he’d have to get you. Whether it cost your own sanity or his, Ransom didn’t care.

It’s why he left you drunk and alone, safely tucked into the comfort of your sheets with his number left in your phone. Even taking the liberty of texting himself from it.

He could never be too careful. Letting you slip through his fingers was simply not an option.

Thanks to him, you didn’t forget about him.

The next morning your memory only held vague images of a handsome stranger helping you home, thankfully he seemed to be nothing more than a doting gentlemen. The first for you to ever come across.

Until later in the afternoon the following day, Ransom introduced himself and checked up on you, worming his presence into your life.

Then he kept talking to you everyday, surprising even himself in the matter. Truly, he couldn’t help it. Part of him loved how gently you spoke to him on the phone. No one ever talked to him with such a level of care.

He always warranted yelling, usually he was the one who stirred the pot. He enjoyed it, and thrived in a chaotic environment. It’s what he grew up in. Ransom was more than comfortable with his own family yelling and cursing him out until the sun came up. He did just the same.

So, whenever you sweetly asked him how he was, it threw him off guard.

Not a single soul even cared or bothered to ask him anything. Truth be told, Ransom was a sack of shit treating everyone like they were the gum beneath his shoe. It didn’t matter who talked to him — Ransom was simply more superior in every conceivable way.

He would succumb to not a single soul. Paving his own way through life, with only the money from his trust fund of course.

Then the two of you fell into each other and he could pinpoint the exact moment he did.

The weeks and months blended together. He couldn’t really tell you why he was still lingering around, while he got nothing in return. You did get him off once or twice, but he wasn’t fucking you like he really wanted to.

Maybe it was the innocence in your eyes pulling his soul into the very little good he still had left within him. Or maybe it was the way your thumb dragged over his cheek when you thought he was in slumber, blissfully unaware of your touch.

More importantly his favorite thing, the way you let him hold you when the two of you cuddled. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, bouncy cheeks pressed into whatever knit sweater he decided to wear that day.

It was all the little things, unknowingly making him fall in deep like he never had before.

Unwelcoming to him, his mother came barreling in one Sunday afternoon, while you slept in his arms. Even as Linda screamed his name, you never jolted, out like a log. Safe in the peace he kept you in.

Linda looked annoyed, irritated he even had company in the first place but not surprised. What truly shocked her was they both had clothes on. Not truly believing Ransom was capable of such a sinless interaction.

He knew what she wanted; he didn’t even have to move from his position to continue a private conversation. Not that it would get him off the couch, and out of your embrace in the first place.

“I said no. Don’t know why you bothered coming here.” Linda angrily sighed. “You should at least show up.”

Ransom didn’t notice, but subconsciously continued to run his fingertips up and down your spine. Linda did. She noticed that he didn’t even care she was judging him, but let you remain unbothered sleeping in her son’s embrace.

“It’s for Walt. You need to be there.” She stepped closer, hoping the increase in her volume would wake you. “I expect you to grace us with your wonderful presence as does the rest of the family.”

The sarcasm dripped, attempting to coax him out of the four walls he never seemed to leave. Not recently, anyhow.

“I already told you, I can’t.” Now Ransom was irritated and he really wished she would calm the fuck down. It was one day, one event. There would always be another, that much wasn’t lost on him. “I have plans. Send him my best.”

Assuming it was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke, you moved jolting yourself in his arms, before remaining still again. His heartbeat continues to soothe you.

“You have plans? What else could be more important than your family?” The louder Linda’s voice grew the more you stirred, pissing him off.

He really needed to change his locks.

Even if he had no intention of going, he needed his mother to leave. Really for your own sake — trying to save you from Linda giving you a cold shoulder followed with a third degree burn.

“Fine. I’ll go. Can you just leave?” She accepted Ransom’s submission, before looking at your figure. Sound asleep and clinging to her one and only, sinking your claws into him.

She really didn’t like the way Ransom was looking at you. Linda was positive he would never be able to care about someone other than himself, but here he was, holding you close to his chest.

Almost like his life depended on it.

“Who is she to you?” With a raised eyebrow, eyes narrowing to you before meeting back with Ransom’s cerulean blues.

“I don’t know yet.” Ransom paused looking down at you, so beautiful. Holding a light so pure, so radiant; he hoped no matter how cruel he could be, he’d never act like that towards you. “Maybe someone I don’t deserve, but want to be better for.”

His rough, calloused fingers drawing mindless patterns on the exposed skin of your waist. He didn’t know what Linda said next or when she left.

Time seemed to stand still, his confession hitting his chest fiercely. He let himself sit with it for a moment, before you woke up. Enjoying a moment where he didn’t have to deal with anything, he didn’t have to say a word.

He could just enjoy the moment without eyes judging him or you questioning why his eyes seemed to shine just a bit brighter whenever you were around.

It was the first of many. Moments where he felt small pieces of himself chipped away into your care. Planes of existences within him no one had ever scratched the surface of.

Much like right now as you cried into his chest, begging for mercy.

Because you were afraid. Terrified you had made the worst mistake, an unforgivable one. You lied about your past and to Ransom it felt like more than a betrayal. More accurately he felt a dagger in his heart placed strategically with your murderous hands.

He’d never felt such empathy and pain at once. Maybe he’d never been empathetic a day in his life at all.

Until now.

To make matters worse, he knew his entire family was watching the whole scene from the window. It wasn’t from worry or concern for either one of you. Mainly all of them enjoying pain being inflicted on Ransom.

Linda of course wallowing in her ego, he could practically see her bask in her own pride. Another thing she’d been right about checked off the list.

The rest of the family watched the two of you fight with shiteating grins permanently stamped on their face. They’d never seen Ransom care about anyone but you. To watch the relationship he held so close to his heart blow up so publicly, only fueled the fire to Ransom’s rage.

Except Harlan.

Even through his hot, beating anger Ransom was trying his best to comfort you. To calm you down even if you had been the one to be caught red handed. Harlan couldn’t believe it, someone Ransom seemed to care about more than himself.

More than any of his family. Not that Harlan was offended. Well, maybe a little, but more so he was thrilled his grandson finally found someone he had to grow up for. Someone he had to earn, not buy.

No bribes. No schemes. No games.

Just you.

“Hugh, please talk to me.” How could he? It’s not like he had much to say. Maybe he did, he just wasn’t sure how to get the words out without hurting you or himself.

“I know I lied and I fucked up, but please — we need to talk about it.” Soft hands reaching for his own, but he brushed them off, his hands snaked higher on your waist. “We should have talked about this the moment you met me.”

Dead silence is all you were met with as he walked the fine line of pushing you away, leaving you behind and pulling you closer than he ever had.

“You’re right. I should have told you the truth but can you blame me?” He met you with solemn eyes and his own heart beating rapidly. “Yes I can.” Ransom was trying to act cold and distant but the two windows to his soul told a different story.

“That’s fair.” Even as he was holding you, Ransom still felt like he was a galaxy away. He was withholding himself from you like a turtle retracting into their own protection. A year ago, before he met you, he knew he would have never even recognized it.

Now, you made it possible for him to be aware of just how much he had changed. He broke old habits of his own just to please you so when you disappointed him, this unreachable high standard he held you to, it shattered his sense of self.

“Did you still love him?” Ransom questioned you. “I did. At the time, he’s all I ever really knew. I thought that’s what love felt like. The only image of love I had was the one he gave me. So, I ran with him and it crushed me.”

Ransom had to pretend the words you were speaking didn’t split him into you two. The image of you falling in love with someone else was enough to make him wanna strangle your ex.

His friend.

“Then we just got into one really big blow out. Right in the bar in front of all of his friends I had met for the first time that night.” You reached for a chunk of his sweater, clenching the material in your hand, like you were trying to convince yourself to let the words fall from your mouth.

“He told me how much I’d been irritating him and I couldn’t help but notice every girl he flirted with and touched right in front of me.” You tested the waters, placing both of your hands over his chest, the beat of his heart calming you down.

“Then I just cracked. It was only one of the many fights we’d been having over the course of the past few months. Everyone single argument pushed me closer to the edge, until the last one actually did.” You sighed, watching as he frowned.

“I ended things that night, before getting thoroughly plastered and soon enough crying on the cement. Wasted and lonely out of my mind, until I met you.” You moved your hand from his heart, cupping his clean shaven face.

“You made me realize I never knew what love really meant or felt like.” This piqued Ransom’s interest.

You said love.

Could a tragedy bring out the words Ransom craved to hear more than anything in the world?

Maybe you cared about him, more than anyone ever showed him. But loved him? How could someone be as hateful as him be worthy of someone like you?

Even if you had broken his heart, he’d done far worse to more people than he could count. He wasn’t really in a place to judge but it didn’t change the fact it still hurt. A lot.

“Hugh.” You heard him gulp rather loudly. “Yes?” His tone came out as more of a question than a response.

The silence he gifted you was unsettling at the very least. “You've barely said a word.” He was surprised he didn’t scurry off in his beamer the second he saw the guilt reach your eyes.

He was surprised he hadn’t let his anger take over and let the rage he felt inside body take it all out on you.

He was surprised he somehow couldn’t inflict a single hateful word towards you, even as you sat with his heart in your hands.

In pure bliss of just how much you owned him.

“I hate it. This fucking corner you’ve back me into. Not to mention for the prying eyes of my entire family to watch the show.” The sharp tone he uses sensoring you. “You used me just to get back at him.”

“Like I was some pawn in your game and I really even shouldn’t be mad.” He paused, trying to choose his words as carefully as he can. “I’ve done the same thing to so many different women. Used them and threw them out at my earliest inconvenience.” To your surprise, even Ransom’s, a single tear left his eye showing you how much you really meant to him.

You hated yourself for letting it get to this point.

“But you? I could never even think about hurting you. I could never live with myself if I treated you like everyone else because you’re so much more than that to me.” The tears continued to roll. The dame Ransom kept shut his entire life, opened because of you and he just wanted to make it stop.

He would give anything — even you.

He just wanted to not feel like a piece of shit for once in his life. For a moment, he thought he might have a chance to be something more than the picture he portrayed in everyone’s mind. You showed him maybe it was more complex than it seemed.

“I just assumed I was that for you.” You sighed in frustration, softly wiping his tears away. “You are, though. You are more than that.”

“Then how could you be so okay with lying to me?” The crease between his eyebrows only created more of an indention as he felt the anger trying to escape out of him.

You let the tension get to you first.

“Because I-I was scared if I told you the truth, you’d never tell me.” You puzzled him once again. You softly reach up between his furrowed eyebrows, the pad of your thumb smoothing it out.

“Tell you what?” His mind was clouded with the possibilities of what he could have missed.

“I can’t spell this one out for you.” You were tired of being the one to do everything first. Even if your intentions weren’t free from fault once you realized who he was, your feelings for him were anything but.

“I don’t know what you want from me. You only let me fall for you because you knew how much it would hurt him.” He bit back, growing impatient and tired. “Any other time, I would have cared. Probably would have been more than happy to assist. But you made me-”

Then Ransom cut himself off, jumping out of the swing and away from you.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I thought I could.” He literally sprinted to his beamer, but you chased him.

You were hell bent and just as crazy as he was. Maybe it’s why it worked for as long as it did.

“Hugh! Get back here.” You were running, thankful you’d gone for a more casual outfit today, the sneakers supporting your feet far better than the heels you’d usually wear.

Maybe if it was someone with a normal childhood upbringing you would have just cut your losses but this was someone who chose to be called Ransom.

This was someone who chose to run away from love and care because the only affectionate way he knew how to treat someone was to throw money at them.

This was someone who had the communication of a ten year old because that’s when his own mother didn’t bother to mess with him anymore before sending him off to boarding school.

This was someone who didn’t know how to love — and to be loved.

By the time you caught up to him his was digging for his keys, but he couldn’t fucking find them.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale.” Your tone was sharp and he knew you meant business. “For once in your life, stop running away.”

“Why not? What good has it ever done for me to stay?” His back was facing you, his broad shoulders stilled with the rest of his body. Almost like he was ashamed of what he was hiding.

“I can’t speak for everyone else. I can’t speak for your mother or for Richard. For Harlan or for anyone else you thought might abandon you and really did.” You inched you way closer until you knew he felt how close you were to him.

“I can only speak for me.” Giving yourself, the final piece of you to a man who might run away from it.

You were so close he felt your breath on his back, and it made him tremble. He was shaking, terrified of it all. You didn’t let him be for long.

Intertwining your fingers with his, as he kept them at his sides, rubbing your thumb along the palm of his hand.

“I’m sorry for the way I hurt you. Lied to you. You never deserved it. Never.” You thought it would be easier if he didn’t have to look at you while pouring your heart out to him. A theory proved to be right as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“You’ve done nothing but treat me like a princess. You’ve done right by me, more than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life. It made me feel inadequate. My dark secret, always looming over us like a dark cloud of my own personal doing.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t done the proper thing by us and made you feel like I used you. You had every right to feel it because I did.” You took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to face whatever the future held for the two of you.

“I never expected to fall in love with a trust fund, playboy brat.” You felt him take a deep breath, like a breath he’d be holding all his life could finally be set free.

“I love you, Hugh.” The next thing you knew he had you pushed up against the car, lips hungrily attacking your own.

All forgiven because you love him. You actually were in love with him.

He couldn’t fathom it really because you’d been the first. To accept him just as he was. The first to refuse to call him Ransom because you like the way Hugh rolled off your tongue better.

You liked how he felt on your tongue, too.

The first to tell him Fran and Marta should call him Hugh because you wanted to be the only one who got to. The first woman to cook for him, willingly and not attached to the Thrombey payroll.

The first woman he had ever fallen in love with.

The first one he’d stick around and not run away for.

So, he kissed you. Hard. Softly whispering how much he loved you into the kiss, because maybe he wasn’t ready to say it outright. Loud and proud.

Yet, he felt it with every bone of his body — no longer lost in the blues.

taglist: @tonystankschild @parkastoria @tinylumpiaa @brattycherubwrites

#im so anxious to post this #bc i dont really love it but.......#here we go folks.#i rewrote it too many times sksksk 💀#not doing it again #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #m.writes

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floralkittygambler · 3 years

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Based on the new signed work for hazbin

looks like shitty h/skerd/st may end up canon, even though once again husk looks uncomfortable and pissed off by angel, but you cant literally criticise angel without the whole fucking fandom and even staff get pissy with you. accept that not everyones gonna love him, and folks like me whove been victims to these sorts *really* dont fucking like him (to be clear, his predatory nature of not accepting husk saying no but magically accepting other's no, incl alastors. also he tried to force a kiss from husk, similar to how his boss does to him so theres no fucking excuses. its disgusting and male victims of sex crimes are fucking valid, so stop excusing angels actions. he didnt deserve to be a victim but hes not doing favours by making a victim out of husk. its clear harassment. not cute or tsundere either, vile fujoshis-). but most relate or love angel so validate this shit, much like viv and her staff and vas. revolting. he also gives sw a bad name when hes fucking harassing folks bc sw isnt like that - you dont just harass someone. nor is sex your entire identity.

ugh fed up man. im starting to enjoy this fandom so little yet the few characters i am attached to keep me around. hell ive said before ive been around husk like people and they often really dislike angel types, whereas angel types adore them rather shallowly tbh. yeah but honestly this fandom and the clowns running it will find an excuse for angel and avoid those actually affected as always. big surprise...

husk physically resembles angels brother, dad and client, and is similar to the first two. its this toxic bond of angel wanting that love he never got from them. basic science. plus both addicts and one being older than his fuckin dad means realistically it wouldnt work. love does not cure everything nor should be pushed to. ones uncomfortably forced into it, and his bonding moments makes husk ooc because hes portrayed totally different to how he would be. again, experience. overall we get enough of this toxic, forced shit in media. just stop.

angel needs to sort his own shit before being with a guy. and then he needs to be with a guy on his level, around his age and mentality whos in a healthy spot. someone similar to him. hell a male cherri bomb would suit. as for husk, he needs a lot more work thatll take far longer. he needs to love himself and work through his own shit and be like that for awhile first. seen it first hand kill so

before anyone goes 'its fiction' yeah? well then explain how shit like many toxic ideals in romcoms or hell, how male victims of sex crimes are treated as a fucking joke still when its not funny, or hey how about that the only chemistry is this bitter distaste and onesidedness thats shallow af. or how shit like 'killing stalking' and whatnot are seen as cute romances by fans very similar to the point its this sorta dumb shit people romanticise, fantasize and normalise - young people. hell adults too esp immature ones.

its not healthy.

its really not.

and being on the receiving end makes you sick to your stomach and paranoid on others intentions for you.

every glance or touch is an attack. every remark, a hidden message. thats what we're left with.

as for the blokes, they get the extra of being a 'joke' and not a 'real man', that they should 'enjoy' it.

fuck off

also to grow you need to accept not everyone will like or love you. angel irl and in fiction seems mostly adored whether its shallow or not. making a character that dislikes him be his lover is a shit cop out and bad writing just like helluva. we get it, he hates rejection. dont we all. but no one grows without it. hell angel wold benefit from a guy telling him no and sticking to that for him to just accept.

because media shows that fandoms and celebs are now littered full of spoilt folks getting their own ways, seeing any critique or disinterest as 'hate' and being the most entitled buncha twats going. not everyones going to love you or care and that doesnt mean theyre a hater. if viv actually wants a likeable character with flaws to grow, she'd actually show angel's bad as not just him being a fucking victim as its just a mix of victim blaming and entitlement to get what he wants for being a victim when life aint fair. show him with traits more widely despicable thatll shock fans. actually show him accepting people not liking him and being ok rather than forcing himself on them until they do. fucking disgusting. though everyone thinks thats cute. bloody weird-

just like his creator, he wont grow and improve. theyve hired a fucking r'pe fetisher for gods sake. the whole viv and hired folks are a mess...

#spindlehorse critical #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #toxic fanbase #toxic romance #toxic ships #stans and antis dni #anti huskerdust #been there it aint pleasant #i dont like angel dust #myself and those close to me have been victims of those personalities #its not funny its traumatic yet we're to feel grateful and lucky #toxic fandom #the way angel is defended makes me concerned over the mindset of the staff and fans #to be venomously defended from critique in such a way isnt healthy #god this fandom genuinely makes me ill...

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issa-wasteland · 3 years

Text

List of dynamics I think about and only wished there was more moments (Headcanons involved)

Wei wuxian and jiang cheng

- they need to be bros again as I don't like this distance they got going after everything that's happened.

- jiang cheng realizes he's an uncle again

(likes sizhui cause he's nice and freinds with jin ling. They have sleepovers)

- they finally talk about the golden core issue, their family's death as jiang cheng feels sorry for blaming wei wuxian, cry and hug it out. The hug is long because of the years that's passed that they haven't see each other.

- acknowledges that jiang fengmian and madam yu were both wrong for putting making their last request of having responsibility over jiang cheng and yanli on wei wuxian's shoulders at such a young age. Also how jiang fengmian slightly favored wei wuxian.

Wei ning and lan wangji

- it may be awkward first but they have their own talks.

- lan wangji tells wen ning when he found a-yuan (sizhui) and what happened after.

Lan xichen and lan wangji

- their talks are cute yet funny to me cause lan xichen knows lan wangji is so in love with wei wuxian.

-gives hint to lan qiren that lan wangji and wei wuxian are together before they could tell him themselves.

Jiang cheng and lan xichen

- angry uncle grape and soft uncle

Nie huaisang and lan xichen

Nie huaisang and meng yao

-They give off being the middle bro/ young bro as nie huaisang is the older bro.

- Meng yao protected nie huaisang before everything went down.

- nie huaisang was shocked seeing meng yao having to leave and ran to ask his brother what was going on.

Nie huaisang and nie mingjue

-Their moments are cute

- there's a movie focused on them and I hope to see it cause I seen a few gifs from the movie and it looks promising.

Wei wuxian and nie huaisang

-They can go fishing again

- still doing unintentional shenanigans

Jiang cheng and lan wangji

-they had decent moments that involved looking/worried about wei wuxian.

- it's just wei wuxian's bro and husband having a moment as they can be out whoppin ass together or jiang cheng is coming for lan wangji.

Jiang yanli and wen qing

- I'm pretty sure they talk about how obvious wei wuxian and lan wangji's relationship is.

- two beautiful women just minding their business.

A-qing with xiao xingchen, song lan, and xue yang, or all of them.

-She's obviously the little sister and if anyone messed with her, that person is gonna be sorry.

Meng yao and jiang cheng as I wanna see how it went down to raising jin ling.

- meng yao must've got jin ling from Friday and the weekends while jiang cheng has him on the other days.

-Jin ling most likely gets spoiled when he's over with uncle meng yao.

Lan xichen and wei wuxian

- lan xichen likes the fact that wei wuxian makes his brother happy.

Wei wuxian and xue yang

-xue yang would go on about how wei wuxian should be respected as he's the only guy he would give respect to.

Song lan and xue yang as I just wanna see what would happen if they were put into a room and no fighting was allowed.

- I'm pretty sure xue yang would find a way to make song lan tick.

Song lan and xiao xingchen

- Dudes was just roaming around the world together and song lan gives off those vibes of being so serious that he can't take a joke.

- in all seriousness, what could they be talking about in general?

- I m sure xiao xingchen be bored as hell cause (shamefully) xue yang makes him laugh.

Jiang cheng and nie huaisang

- they'll drink ALOT

- probably have their own hide out to avoid responsibilities.

Nie mingjue and lan xichen

- he's gentle to lan xichen

- trusts him

- lan xichen goes to the nie sect only to come home with his hair braided as lan wangji observes before complimenting on it and walks away.

Wei wuxian, lan wangji, and all the junior disciples.

-They all make fun of wei wuxian's cooking if he ever volunteers to cook.

- got him a cook book for his birthday for sure

- wei tells stories from his life

Wen ning and the junior disciples

- there's a chance that jingyi and zizhen make wen ning do something that's gonna cause some trouble until lan sizhui is able to stop it in time.

- for jin ling, it's uncomfortable to hang out with your father's murderer but he'll be civil for sizhui's sake.

Wen ning and lan sizhui

- wen ning would tell sizhui about their family before everything that's happened.

- there's based on wen ning and him traveling with lan sizhui but his character is ooc. Idk I want to watch it but I also don't??? Is it promising? Does it live up to the hype???

All the junior disciples hanging out

-if they were to play a game, jin ling would get cocky until he sees that he's losing and wants to quit or call everyone a "cheater" before walking off.

Wei wuxian and jin ling as he apologized to wei for stabbing him as wei is just like "Dude don't worry about it 😄"

Wei wuxian and lan sizhui as he just got his baby boy back after thinking he was dead 🥺

- wei would shush sizhui if he says a "wrong thing" around lan zhan.

- guarantee sizhui would hug wei's legs for old time sake.

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shuuen-no-cimory · 3 years

Text

Disgusting Gratitude (An FGO Ashiya Douman fanfic)

This was a fanfic I wrote after lurking on twitter for so long just to find threads about Douman (the historical person). And yeah, find a real nice stuff on an account specifically created to post the stuff (real kudos for DOUMANFAN_ on twitter. Using machine translate is hard but I’m glad I can find stories of him). This is a what-if story if Alter Ego was summoned on Chaldea but instead by already experienced Ritsuka, it was Ritsuka when she was about to start her Grand Order. There might be some OOC but I hope it wasn’t too much ;w;

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Chaldea's ever white walls stand tall and firm as far as he can see. It's rather empty, only the tapping sound of his boots bounces around as he swiftly walk. As storm raging madly behind the closed-off glass, the Onmyoji eyeing the unending hallway as he make his way to his Master's room. His Master,

Fujimaru Ritsuka, the supposedly last master of Chaldea at the time. The 'savior' who saved the world from Goetia's annihilation of humanity. The one who went through four Remnants and slayed him on Shimousa. The one who later, ironically enough, turn into the exterminator of Lostbelts, all for the sake of Pan-human history. The one who tore down his Mandala Hell Tree. Such titles his Master has,

Or that's what his Master supposed to be.

Right now Ritsuka is just a child who just experienced her first Singularity, whose fire on her eyes still burning with hope and passion. So green, so naive, that's the Master that command him right now. He's already ready to serve under her the time he was registered into Throne of Heroes, yet he never prepared to meet her in such state of her life.

If there's something more laughable than his repetitive defeats, then it is the fact that he was summoned by Master of Chaldea who was yet tainted by the harsh future.

Of course his appearance was making some curious uproar. An Alter Ego? Ashiya Douman? Even the Director can't believe it at first and had to rechecked multiple times to make sure the system didn't make any mistake. His tiny Master was even more curious than anyone else, for she was never heard of a servant with an Alter Ego class. He can remember how she tilted her head in confusion, "Huh... Alter Ego? Not a Caster?" My condolence to her, what a woe she has to face in the distant future once he understand why such form of him ever exist.

Nonetheless, this is a great opportunity indeed. With no one ever experience, so much to remember what he yet to do in the future, he can deceive them perfectly. By presenting himself as the mere Ashiya Douman, one of the renowned Onmyoji, the rival of Abe no Seimei, yes, his disguise is perfect.

But really, dealing with such a green Master was such a hassle. According to her, it was the director's advice for her to get to know her servants for a better teamwork on future mission. Since then, she'd come to Douman and talk about various thing with him. Sometimes she'd just ask him about the mission they had done, sometimes it is just some idle chats about what he likes, how he felt about being in Chaldea, what does he thinks about the other servants. Among those talk, he can remember one that quite piqued his interest.

"Douman-sensei," she called his name as he poured tea to her glass. He replied with an everchanging smile, "What can I help my Master with today?" As she thanked him after receiving her glass, she calmly spoke, "When I was small, my granpa used to tell me stories about you and the Onmyojis a lot," her eyes filled with tender reminiscence, "He would tell stories about you quite often too, but how was the life of Onmyoji like?"

Douman who was about to sip his tea stopped for a moment, "Nnnn, you sure a curious one, aren't you, Master?" he was silent as he sips the tea calmly, "But are you sure you want to hear the story of this humble servant of yours?"

"Of course!" she excitedly bounce on her seat, but quickly she cleared her throat and bring her calm demeanor which fits the tea drinking atmosphere back. "I-I mean, sure, Douman-sensei. It will be a p-pleasure to hear it from you," trying her best to suppress her excitement, Ritsuka was turned groggy instead. How cute, he said in silence. That afternoon, he attend his Master much like a teacher to their pupil. Stories from a distant past, as he recalled story after story, he saw her face filled with so much expressions. Sometimes she'd shine with awe, sometimes she'd knit her eyebrows in sympathy, sometimes she'd laugh heartfully. That afternoon was exhausting indeed, but it was quite a remarkable memory for him.

As he finished reminiscing his time on Chaldea, his feet stopped in front of his Master's room. He was asked by a Vinci to checked on her, although the light-haired director seemed to despise the idea at first. Of course, Douman is well aware thar Romani Archaman must've been wary of him, an extremely strange servant summoned by Chaldea system. Even so, Da vinci still let him carry the request on and thus, here he is.

Gently, he knocked the door, "Master," he called her, "May I come in?"

Just as he knock it, the door opened by itself. A vulnerably clumsy Master she is, letting her room unlocked like this.

When he enter the room, she was on her work desk, head buried by various books and notes. Her back raise and drop in a steady rhythm as she breathe calmly. The monitor of her computer lit up her unmoving figure. She's asleep in her table just like that in her shirt and short pants. Truly, truly vulnerable... A tiny flicker ignite inside him, flame that asked for her destruction in such state. But of course he had to control himself, it is not the time yet. A reward for fortitude will be fruitful in the end, thus he needs to wait.

To suppress the raging feelings, he walk toward with the only wish to wake her up. His hand reached out to her, but then his eyes trails off from her. Without shrinking his hand away, he blinks silently at the heaps of books, specifically the words that written on top of it. Words that re just.... extremely familiar to him. His sharp nails trailed from one book to another. "The Guide of Harima Kuni", "The story of Abe-no-Seimei", "The Record of Heian Era", and to his surprise, "Ashiya Douman: the Story of Renowned Onmyoji." Of course he can recall them, of course. It was all the books that talks about him and his stories, his past. At the opened books, he can see some scribbles and tapped notes all over. He picked one and inspect it. The notes were mostly filled with questions and reviews. There, he can read something like 'Is he really like that?', or 'So this is what happen!' written with some emojis and doodles. The scribbles on the other hand were meant to highlight some points of the books that seemed to interest her. Moving his eyes from her table, he saw her monitor shows a map that was marked in various places. There he read on top of it was the name 'Kishi, Nishikanki-Cho'. Accompanied the map was some websites that was filled with stories and talks about his hometown, specifically about the history of Onmyoji. He can't help but smile, a genuine smile that he wasn't so acquainted with. 'This Master truly was not joking when she said she wanted to know more about this Douman,' he thoughts as the fire of hatred that reside in him for the moment has gone. In a spur of moment, he felt a little pity for her who had to work hard just to know more about him. The least he can do for her was to spare her some proper sleep by lay the girl on her bed. Gently while making sure she won't woken up, he picked her off her seat. The tiny body on his arm felt way different than the person he saw back in Heian-kyo Lostbelt. The girl that stopped him back then was way sterner and rougher, here the lady on his arm is amicably powerless like a sitting duck.

As he laid her down, she suddenly grabbed her clothes. Douman was about to jump until he hears her slow breathe was still the same as before. Ah, sure, she's probably did it unconsciously. Slowly, he hold the hand that clutched onto him and release it. The owner in question meekly murmur in her sleep when she's completely laid down on her bed, "Granpa... Can you... Tell me Douman-sensei... story again..." she said. He can't help but laughed a bit at how childlike his Master act right now. Tucked her comfortably, he left her to clean up her table. That's when he found something,

Seems like the book was covered by her face when she asleep then, but there was written in a side of her notebook, a tiny note. Douman picks her book and slowly read it. It was unmistakably her handwriting, complete with her little doodles.

"Granpa, I found Douman-sensei! He's so cool just like you told me. I will work hard too so I can be as awesome like him. I promise you!"

There was a little drop of water on the notes, but it didn't bother him much. It was... what a disgusting note it is.

Wanted to be like him? Why? To be like a complete failure of an Onmyoji like him... That is truly a laughable notion. How pitiful for someone ever wanted to be an underdog like him. Someone, who is renown for his villainy over his rival that he was never able to usurp... He reads more notes and books that lays on her table as he clean it up. All those books... Some of them said of how he was a beloved for his own people, some said how he was a pride for his hometown, some said how they are grateful for his achievement.

His heart swells, he turned off the light on his master room. His heart swells. He stroked Ritsuka's fair hair as he made his way out of the room. His heart swells. He closed the door and make sure it was secured.

His heart swells, for all those emotion he feels gobbled him up.

Is all alien to him. All that gratefulness are nothing he ever heard.

It was disgusting,

Disgusting,

But he is unmistakably feels warm.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

End note: Ngl I feel like Grand Order Guda calling Douman as Douman-sensei sounds awesome and fits nicely. She was pretty new to this stuff so she might be still rather meek with her servants. And then, Douman himself was still a pretty renowned Onmyoji thus giving him some respect sounds just right

#FGO #Fate/Grad Order #FGO Fanfic #Ashiya Douman #Ashiya Douman (FGO)#Ashiya Douman (Alter Ego)#Caster of Limbo #Ritsuka Fujimaru #Gudako #Douman/Guda #Douman x Gudako #TYPE-MOON

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athicfa · 3 years

Text

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112

guys what the fuck did I just walk into with this cover

Christmas special!

people confusing Felicia for the Black Widow??? okay then AS IF you petty crooks are important enough to get Nat’s attention

Felicia goes hero again and stops a robbery, decided to take the mink coats they were stealing for herself, but then has another change of heart and gives them to homeless ladies to warm themselves. Your honor, I love her.

Peter has lost his fucking mind apparently. Just sitting in his apartment alone on Christmas, only has two cans of *classic* coke in his fridge, props the black suit up in a chair across from him and talks to it like it’s his only friend. Dear God Peter what’s happened to you.

He’s sleeping with a teddy bear MJ gave him though that’s hella cute.

OH MY GOD THE FAN LETTERS AGAIN. “It stinks. Peter David can’t write a script-” and then the reply from the editors is basically a quasi-polite way of saying “yeah what the fuck is up David?? fix your shit” LMAO WHAT

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113

ANYONE WHO PUTS THEIR HANDS ON AUNT MAY NEEDS TO MEET ME BEHIND THE DENNY’S AT 3:00 WEDNESDAY I’M SICK OF PEOPLE BEING MEAN TO HER

Now people are confusing Felicia for Silver Sable which is somewhat more reasonable. She was on hiatus for a year so people don’t exactly know the Black Cat is back in action to be fair.

“Stunning objects don’t just drop down from on high” to which Felicia says “sometimes we do” as she jumps from the skylight so yeah she’s back to her original chaotically bastardish self and I’m glad.

she’s kicking ass again too it’s about damn time

Aunt May is so precious. A true blessing to the world.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115

Felicia’s just vibin’. Living her best life. Becoming a modern day Robin Hood. We love to see it.

In all seriousness, it’s truly a great turnaround for her character. She feels closer to her original characterization before they made her an Awful Bastard out of nowhere for the sake of drama. Even if she’s just showing up in one full-page montage of her escapades per issue at this point (this time it’s her workout regimen), it’s a lot better than what they were feeding us across multiple pages. I’ll take these little character building short appearances over multi-page ooc nonsense any day.

Peter’s having a streak of Bad Luck now and she hasn’t even interacted with him again, she’s just admiring him from afar but even that’s not safe apparently. My poor baby :(

OH MY GOD

they haven’t even ran into each other but he thinks she’s somehow doing this on purpose

“oh my stars, after all this time, he’s still gorgeous” and “I’m sure he rarely thinks about me” meanwhile he thinks she’s trying to hurt him somehow and is going to Doctor Strange to see if she’s causing his bad luck or not oh no I guess I came here to hurt today

“It looks like she hexed me somehow, permanently, to get back at me. I don’t owe her anything. Do what you have to. She can look out for herself.” -Peter. Because Strange says that reversing the hex on him could affect the source of the bad luck in an unpredictable way. And Felicia’s right in the middle of her most dangerous heist to date at the moment. This is making me anxious, and what Peter said was heart-wrenching.

It completely reverses it to where FELICIA is having the bad luck now and this villain dude is now destroying her, meanwhile Peter is monologuing about how upset he is that she cursed him on purpose and that he’s pissed because she could have gotten her killed, meanwhile he’s just done that exact thing to her and on his end it’s on purpose :’)

Peter’s so upset that he asks if Strange can erase Felicia’s memories of him. Strange refuses and tells him to go talk it out with her because he’s being too “hard-hearted”.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116

“102 Uses for a Dead Cat” I hate that title so much sdflkj

OOF she’s got a broken nose

Oh she’s definitely concussed too. She’s half conscious mumbling about Peter while this big beefy villain dude talks about how he just broke her nose and how he’s secretly a gentle guy and blah blah whatever idk this guy is weird

Oh no that was gross. Dude tries to take advantage of her while she’s dazed from her obvious concussion, so she kicks the shit out of everyone in the room, as she should.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to sing soprano” YES FUCK EM UP FE FE

Feral Felicia is Best Felicia

Peter’s mulling over whether he should go see her or not because he thinks they’re just gonna argue. Which is fair because he just argued with Aunt May and MJ so poor dude can’t take much more of that today.

She’s patching up at home and Peter shows up. She has NO issue with acknowledging Peter AS Peter, and does so even though he came to her as Spiderman, so hopefully that means the writers have acknowledged how stupid that whole debacle was.

She’s visibly hurt from her fight, broken nose and all, and he wants to know what happened but she keeps dodging the subject. Now he’s fessing up that he had Strange reverse her bad luck powers, she connects the dots in her head that he’s the reason she got trashed by those goons, and she’s PISSED. He wants to know what happened to her so he can help her but she won’t tell him, she’s too upset.

Felicia’s neighbors hear them arguing and they’re just like “ugh HER again” lmfao

“I’ll turn up the radio. I’ll show her what suffering really is.” GOD HER NEIGHBORS KILL ME

she tells him and HE ACCUSES HER OF LYING HOLY FUCK

It’s just because she’s raging at him though and the poor dude is obviously overloaded because this is the third person who was / is close to him that he’s fought with today. So no it’s not right of him to do that but dude I get it.

He leaves. He’s gone for a bit. Felicia’s crying because everything’s going wrong in her life, and just when she thinks it can’t get any worse, Sabretooth shows up and says he’s gonna kill her. Felicia lures him closer so she can ambush him with traps and shit hidden in her aparment. But right before he gets to her, in comes Spidey to the rescue! So wait, did he hang outside her apartment this whole time, or did he leave and come back?

They’re still arguing though because Felicia doesn’t know how to say thank you and firmly believes she could have handled that herself. Honestly, I love her to death, but with her luck powers turned against her, I doubt she could.

Good Guy Peter taking Sabretooth to the hospital because he ripped his own face off

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117

so Felicia’s about to fight Doctor Strange? Yeah, THAT’S gonna go well.

this storyline has gotten so fucking juicy I love it

no Black Cat suit this time we fight wizards in our street clothes and protective masks to guard our broken noses

she’s breaking in through the window upstairs and figuring out how to bypass the winds just like in my headcanon about her visiting Bats I feel validated skljdf

she can see his astral form and apparently that’s a big deal to Strange (I don’t understand the significance but okay I’ll take it lol)

no fighting he wants to help her but she’s fussy and leaves. She’s having a bit of an existential crisis on the way home, until she figures out that she’s under attack by Foreigner himself, since all of his henchmen and hired assassins failed to take her out. He takes her down pretty quickly. She’s in no state to fight, and he’s a tough foe anyway.

they diagrammed Felicia doing an entire taekwondo 360 spin kick and I greatly appreciate that

he spared her but in return he wants her to help take down spiderman and she agrees so it’s time to cry some more

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119

MJ complimenting Felicia’s boobs is not what I expected but here we are

I’m not sure how I feel about Felicia becoming a villain. I still don’t think she would EVER actively seek to hurt Peter, even if she’s indebted to this dude for sparing her life and calling off his assassins. But I’m interested to see how this plays out.

Sabretooth is back and hunting Peter and Felicia hasn’t forgotten that he tried to kill her either so she’s instantly out to throw hands with this dude, and she knows Peter’s watching it happen too. So is she actually going to try and hurt Peter later or...?

LMAO POOR SABRETOOTH JUST GOT HIS FACE FIXED AND FIRST THING SHE DID WAS RIP IT UP AGAIN SHE’S BRUTAL

She’s saving his life but he can’t sit by and watch her almost get killed for him AGAIN so of course Peter’s rushing to change into his suit and go help her.

SHE’S GONE FERAL AGAIN. LITERALLY. SHE SCREAMED AND BASHED HIS SKULL INTO THE PAVEMENT. WHAT A LADY.

He fucked up her leg but that’s nothing compared to what she just did to his face so fair game. Peter got there in time to see the last of it. She sees him and winks. That’s it omfg.

She’s hooking up with the foreigner now???? Press X to Doubt.

No but seriously everything feels in character until you realize it’s a ruse to lure Peter in to a sense of security around her again which is so weird. I feel like we’re veering off into ooc territory again which is sad because I was liking everything in this storyline up until this point.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGG

First page is Blaze saying that Foreigner hired him to take out both Peter AND Felicia???? But I thought Felicia was on Foreigner’s side now???? And we open with Peter saving unconscious Felicia from a fire?????? I AM CONFUSION

Felicia tearing Keating to shreds for trashing Peter which is great

I hate this suit and I hate this hair it can stay in the trash

her apartment blew up time to hang out with Peter

“We can’t sneak into my apartment while these girls are out here sunbathing” says Peter so Felicia proceeds to scream at the girls and scare them away. Peak Chaotic Bastard Felicia right now.

they’re making Felicia and MJ take digs at each other again because we can’t have nice things

she’s brought Peter to Foreigner now? Willingly? Unintentionally? IDK what’s happening

IS SHE OR IS SHE NOT WORKING WITH FOREIGNER WHAT IS HAPPENING

THEY’RE SHOOTING AT HER TOO IS THIS AN ELABORATE PLOY BECAUSE IT SEEMS SINCERE WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

oh she’s got her claws now that’s neat

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

okay I’m done for now this is getting too contrived

#[comic commentary]#it started so well #got super juicy #and then completely derailed #sad because I was really enjoying the new storyline with Peter and Felicia accidentally ruining everything for each other #oh well at least they've given me a ton of Feral Bastard Felicia Hardy moments

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cescalr · 4 years

Text

Why Is Draco Malfoy So Underrated?

A repost of a Quora answer because Quora hates me for some reason

@vivithefolle i take little convincing here I go -

SO!

You. Yeah, you. You, nebulous quora questioner, you think Malfoy is underrated, do you? Well I, CescaLR, am here to set the record straight. The following is the answer I posted to Quora, that was flagged with ‘answer may need improvement’, which means some asshole was trawling the answers to the question posted and didn’t like mine so they had the moderators hide it because said person doesn’t like differing opinions. This post is thereby an archive, so if my answer is never again allowed to see the light of day on Quora, at least my maths is visible elsewhere.

Hopefully, this entertains you, tumblr user reading this post. Also, as fair warning, if you do like Draco Malfoy and somehow stumbled across this post, I recommend skipping it.

Why is Draco Malfoy so underrated?

Fleur Lee-Ranger

Author of 857406 words of fanfiction and counting.

ANSWER:

HAHAHAHA.

Ha.

hah…..

For god’s sake, I hope you’re not serious.

Let’s look at YouTube, first:

Does 2.2 million f*cking views on a woobie Draco edit seem like he’s underrated to you? Any character that gets 2.2 million views on an edit that interprets the character in a sympathetic, caring light…. Jesus Christ. They’re not underrated.

You could make a clear argument for them being overrated, by matter of fact!

The first result is his entire life story, and a redemption of the Malfoy family as a whole, and it’s… super popular!

look at that! 70k likes versus 1.7k dislikes. Let’s use my favourite maths thing once again: Ratios!!

(I hate ratios. The things I do to prove a point, eh?)

This video has 5201431 million views. It has around 70k likes, 1.1k dislikes. We’ll round 5201431, as 70k and 1.1k are both rounded numbers and I can’t be bothered to deal with numbers that are too complicated right now, it’s nearly nine pm. 5201431 -> 5.2 million. It’s the rounded number YouTube itself uses on the search page - check the first image if you don’t believe me, and since YouTube thinks that’s good enough, so will we.

5200000 : 70000 : 1100

52000 : 700 : 11

Divide all by 11 (and round awkward numbers, because we’re already dealing in rounded numbers anyway, which is kind of bad practice, but it’ll do for this context):

4,727 : 64 : 1

As I’ve proven before (not on Quora, you can probably find it in the comments of one of my fanfictions, I’ll end up moving it over here one day when I find the right question), fandom content engagement rates are always pretty bad. But honestly? every four thousand or so views, you get 64 likes, compared to just one dislike. That’s great! That’s incredible! I’d kill for those kinds of ratings!!

(Draco’d probably wimp out, though. hehe. Jokes, jokes.)

As for his woobie video:

2.3m : 152k : 715

2300000 : 153000 : 715

Nice, don’t need to remove any superfluous zeroes. Bad, for… well, your hypothesis, to put it nicely, since that means there are only seven hundred and fifteen goddamn dislikes on this video, what the f*ck, why do so many people like this b*stard child.

Ahem. Sorry, that’s rude to illegitimate children like myself. There is nothing wrong with having unmarried parents.

…Anyway, lets slim down that ratio:

3217 : 214 : 1

Holy sh*t. I would do more than kill for this ratio. Oh my god.

That’s some great engagement there. So many likes! Clearly, Draco dearie is a very popular boy! He’d love that. I hate this on principle. God am I glad 13 year old me didn’t really use YouTube (I watched gaming content and little else, didn’t even find fandom content until 2015) or I’d have contributed one of those likes, probably.

Oh wait, no! Never mind! I can’t have contributed one of those likes, because this f*cking video was posted last year!!!!!

LAST GODDAMN YEAR!!!!

Do you understand that? Do you - do you have any idea how - just how difficult it is to get that many views that quickly and with that good an engagement???? Do you???????? It has been, get this, seven, seven whole f*cking months, Less time than it takes to make a baby, and this f*cking video has 2,265,900!!! million!!!! views!!!! With a ratio of 214 likes to one goddamn dislike.

oh my god.

oh my god

I’m having a minor mental breakdown. Jesus f*cking H Christ on a goddamn bike.

Look at these comments! Look at how many likes they have!! Oh my god!!!! Draco Malfoy might just be one of the most beloved characters ever to get this sort of reaction, for hell’s sake!

I don’t know what kind of dunderhead you are to not notice how f*cking popular this jackass little b*stard boy is, but god, the whiny little sh*t has more fans than oh, I don’t know. Someone really popular. Tom Holland? I don’t know celebrities. Sorry.

But my point is, for god’s sake, Malfoy isn’t underrated. I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under, my friend, but that sheer idolisation you so crave of your wimpy f*cking husband is right there in front of you! Just search his name, and you’ll see it front and goddamn centre. Those of us that don’t worship the ground he walks on are generally much more background.

For god’s sake, he’s a trope namer.

Draco In Leather Pants.

How much more evidence do you need than that?

Of course, I could be jumping the gun. You could be a fan of his that is frustrated by the fanon interpretation of his character. ‘Why is he reduced to a bad boy with a heart of gold when actually he’s a more complicated asshole with sh*tty morality and no backbone that gives a whole ass damn about his family but not much else?’ Good question! Blame Cassie Claire, though I suppose that’s my go-to for most things.

Seriously though; Draco Malfoy is not even remotely overrated. He’s a whiny, terrible, useless waste of space in the books; and in fandom, he’s transformed into a cool, collected, redeemable or outright good person who’s smart and talented and like, super hot you guys, doesn’t he look cute with Hermione/Harry/Insert Author’s Projected Character Here?!!!!

Also: Y’all are f*cking creeps for this shit:

THAT’S A SCENE FROM WHEN THE KID IS TWELVE, FOR GOD’S SAKE. I’m not even joking, half of you are nonces and I want nothing to do with you! ‘hot draco malfoy edits’ HE’S TWELVE

HE’S TWELVE

HE’S TWELVE.

Hot take time:

Draco Malfoy is overhyped, overrated, and oversexualised and I want all of this to stop, because you’re doing it to Tom Felton, when he was a child. A child! That’s creepy! Please do not make hot edits of children, thank you!!!!!

Someone call the police. I’m done with this f*cking fandom, oh my god.

(Also, if you think I edited that in like some sick weirdo might do, just go find that video and give it a watch. I wouldn’t if I were you, I’d believe me, because watching that video probably puts you on a watchlist somewhere.

It should.)

Okay. Deep breaths. It’s been a few months, this answer was flagged with the wonderfully opaque ‘this answer may need improvement’, and I’m back to refine this. I’m not taking anything out, but I’m adding some extra investigation. For posterity’s sake; the original answer only contained YouTube analysis. Let’s look through Archive Of Our Own, shall we?

As I showed in my answer re: the well-liked-ness of Lilly and Hermione, this is the number of total fics within the HP tag.

This is the number of tags when ‘Draco Malfoy’ is added to the ‘included characters’ filter.

So, in terms of ‘fandom work presence’ (AO3 is mostly fanfic, but it is not all fanfic, there are a few vids and some art on there, too) Malfoy’s ratio is thus:

254603:65469

3.8889… : 1

4 : 1

So, rounding up, for every four works on AO3, there is one that includes Draco dearie. Good lord, he’s pervasive, isn’t he? Can’t turn a corner in the fandom without seeing his pasty ferret face plastered all over the walls… lovely.

Now, once again - that wasn’t the best ratio. I didn’t remove bashing, for example, so not all those works will be positive (as in, since you think he’s underrated, that means - I assume - you think people don’t like him enough) so let’s go the long mile:

I will find a ratio for Mr Malfoy Jr’s fans, versus his haters, in terms of - how many fics bash Malfoy, and how many greatly enjoy his existence?

Add the bashing tag, and now let’s see how many fics there are with a) Draco in it, and b) Draco Bashing:

hahahhahagag;k;asdkf

Oh no!

Oh my god I dodn’t…. one second… give me just one second….

Right. Laughing fit over, okay. 17.

So, 65469 works with Draco present, 17 of which don’t like him overmuch, and 65452 like him just fine/present him as he appears in canon! Awesome. Of course, people who present him as he is in canon may not like him the way you want him to, so, not awesome? Hmm. I’m not sure how to filter for that. I suppose you wouldn’t want people who write him OOC, though, because that’s not rating him properly, is it? Should we add OOC to the bashing, to get people who don’t appreciate his… many positive character traits… to the extent that you would like?

Yes, I think we should.

Now, there’s no tag for ‘OOC Draco Malfoy’, because that would make my life too easy. And, I’m not going through 151 works to figure out which ones have Draco being the one OOC. If they’ve written one person OOC, and they’re self-aware enough to tag it, then I’m going to meanly assume they’ve written Draco OOC as well. When one person’s out of whack, I’ve found everyone else is, too, so I’m not just doing this to be a dick, I promise, it’s for a real, good, understandable reason, one that is not only because I really don’t want to have to do any maths more complicated than basic ratios.

So. 151 OOC works, 17 bashing works. 168 works of not properly appreciated Draco Malfoy, coming up, which takes our 65469 Draco works down to… 65301.

Well, that’s a lot, still.

So, there’s still some tags to remove, like Evil, and Abusive, and all that lark. I’ll go do that quickly, and come back with the maths.

(okay, but I do have to show this:)

(fourteen works in the ‘Evil’ draco tag?? are you serious???)

(oh and you can’t filter by Abusive Draco Malfoy, like that’s not a tag, so I can’t exclude it, but it really adds to the general atmosphere of ‘Draco Malfoy? Yeah he’s cool I like him’ that this fandom has going on, doesn’t it?)

Alright so! We really only could take away those 14 works. Okay.

By the way, just so you know - I didn’t exclude tags like ‘Death Eater Draco Malfoy’ and ‘Bully Draco Malfoy’ (if the latter even exists), because those are things that happen in canon, and when I think of a character as being ‘underrated’ I include not acknowledging their canon actions, the bad and the good. A character is only as good as their complexities run deep.

So.

For the ratio, I guess;

65469 : 151 : 17 : 14

4,676.3571… : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1

4,676 : 11 : 1 : 1

…

Hmm.

For every 4 thousand 6 hundred fics Draco appears in, 11 of them have OOC tagged, 1 of them has Draco Bashing tagged, and 1 of them has Evil Draco tagged. That is…

That is unfathomably good. I’m really, genuinely having a hard time picturing it. I really, honestly, don’t think there’s been a character as unquestionably overrated as Draco Malfoy in all of fandom, because, good lord, look at that ratio! People love the guy!

Let’s see the good draco malfoy tag, shall we?

Now, to be fair, most people don’t bother tagging any of this sort of thing, usually, so that’s a minor flaw in my ratio-ing. We can’t actually know exactly how many works laud Malfoy, or hate him, or feel ambivalent, because people don’t tag their shit properly. But I’m hoping this helps, at least a little. Anyway, 905! That’s a few. Not many, but certainly more than Evil or Bashing or even OOC.

65469 : 905 : 151 : 17 : 14

4,676.3571… : 64.6428 : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1

4,676 : 65 : 11 : 1 : 1

Yep. That’s not bad, not bad at all.

So. Most people seem to like him, if we’re honest. As I pointed out above, he’s a trope namer. If you didn’t click on the link for Draco In Leather Pants, here’s a brief summary from the TV Tropes page:

[ Transcription:

Sometimes, a fanwork will portray a villainous character in a more positive light. It can be done out of sympathy for the character, for shipping reasons, as a part of a role-reversal story, several of the aforementioned or for the variety of other reasons.

The common subjects of this treatment are characters who are wicked in a classy or cool way. A physically attractive villain is much more likely to be subject to this trope than a physically ugly one; Beauty = Goodness, after all, and shallow as it may be, it seems that, for some fans, this is the case even when the character's beauty only extends to their appearance. All Girls Want Bad Boys may be a factor with male villains getting a female fandom that views them through this lens. A badass villain will naturally be preferred by many of these over meeker heroic characters at times, as well. Ugly Cute villains also get this pretty easily. ]

So! There’s that. He named a trope all about appreciating a character perhaps (usually definitely) more than they deserve, so I wouldn’t call him ‘underrated’ by most general definitions of the word:

People seem to mostly believe him to be quite good, actually! Certainly enough to write about him a lot, to draw him a lot, to edit him a lot, to theorise about him a lot, to ship him with the main character so much that the 99th filter ever on AO3 was Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.

Hey, actually, that’s a good idea! Which filter id is Draco Malfoy?

Now, if I’m not mistaken, it’s been a while since I had to do this -

Draco Malfoy was the 1589th tag canonised in the tag system of AO3. Let’s check the Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter tag (which I know for certain was 99) to make sure:

And lo and behold, I was right. That’s mad. That’s mad!!!!

Ooh, I’ve found a fun trick

To change which rss feed you’re looking at, copy the https:// link up to .atom in the speech marks, and change the highlighted number. That shows you what uses that tag_ids: - in this case, 93 is Draco himself. The 93rd tag, dedicated to Draco Malfoy. Good lord, that’s insane! I guess there really weren’t many other things to prioritize at the time, but that’s still silly to me.

Fluff and Angst appears to be the fiftieth tag canonised, for comparison. Sometimes when you replace the rss feed’s ‘tag’ in the address bar it takes you to the tag’s page instead of the feed, because that tag doesn’t have an rss feed. The more you know!

Anyway, back on track: I think all of that, rss feeds, youtube analytics, fandom presence, all kind of proves my point:

Draco Malfoy is not underrated. He is, arguably, overrated as a character, but unarguably very popular within the greater Harry Potter fandom. Unpopular characters don’t tend to get paired with the lead, at the very least - and you can’t turn around in the Harry Potter fandom without seeing Drarry somewhere, can you?

#anyway #anti draco malfoy #hp #hp fandom #harry potter #meta #fandom meta #quora #fandom bullshit #long post #sorry mobile users!! very sorry

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