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donquixotehomura · 2 months

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Valentine's Day with One Piece Boys

Master List

W.C:3295 so uhhhhh my hand slipped oops... I took some assumptions here and I changed some things that are common about these characters in Fanfic writing, my brain couldn’t come up with a lot for Law I’m sorry about that, Crocodile and Doffy can be read as pre or post becoming Warlords, some might be OOC but IDK I wrote this in about a day lol (my eyes fingers and back hurt I need to correct my posture lol) sorry if I didn't write for your favorites, have fun and lemme know what you think I love feed back It took two and a half fucking hours to put the gifs in, cause the line thingy where you add stuff only showed at the very bottom so I had to keep editing and dragging shit around, I'm sure I'm doing something wrong, also I had to look up all the gifs here even tho I have tons cause for some reason "something goofed" .... end my suffering also I wrote this on word and then brought it here so if formatting gets weird that's why, even tho I spent hours on making sure everything is good shout out to my inspo who also encouraged me to write it @cinnbar-bun

Dracule Mihawk, Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace, Donquixote Doflamingo, Eustass "Captain" Kid, Charlotte Katakuri, Massacre Soldier Killer, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar Law.

Dracule Mihawk:

Mihawk and Y/N prefer intimate celebrations for Valentine's Day. They often opt for a quiet evening together at their secluded castle, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

Despite their stoic exteriors, Mihawk and Y/N are surprisingly sentimental when it comes to expressing their feelings. They exchange handwritten letters on Valentine's Day, pouring their hearts out on paper in a way that words spoken aloud cannot convey.

Instead of extravagant gestures, Mihawk and Y/N prefer to exchange gifts that hold sentimental value. Mihawk might gift Y/N a rare book on something she likes, while Y/N might give Mihawk a custom-made piece of simple jewelry like a small bracelet she personally crafted for him.

On Valentine's Day, Mihawk surprises Y/N by offering to cook dinner together. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Y/N appreciates the bonding activity and enjoys spending quality time with him in the kitchen, even if it results in a few culinary mishaps.

After dinner, Mihawk and Y/N venture out into the castle's courtyard to stargaze. They lie side by side on a blanket, Y/N pointing out constellations and sharing stories about their significance, reveling in the peaceful solitude of the night, Mihawk just listens to her with a small fond smile.

Throughout the day, Mihawk and Y/N take time to reflect on their journey together, reminiscing about cherished memories and shared experiences that have strengthened their bond over the years.

As a romantic gesture, Mihawk and Y/N share a midnight dance in the castle's grand ballroom. Lit only by candlelight, they move together in a graceful waltz, lost in the magic of the moment and the timeless beauty of their love. Going To Sleep Cuddling: Mihawk and Y/N will go to sleep in the end of the day holding each other, Y/N would curl up into his arms, burying her face into his chest while he wraps his arms around her his hand going into her hair to play with the soft strands.

As Valentine's Day draws to a close, Mihawk and Y/N exchange a few hushed words as they cuddle, reaffirming their commitment to each other and the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures together.

Roronoa Zoro:

Despite his tough exterior, Zoro secretly spends weeks planning the perfect Valentine's Day surprise for Y/N. He meticulously selects a secluded spot on the island they're docked on, where they can enjoy each other's company away from the hustle and bustle of the crew.

Y/N, appreciative of Zoro's efforts, prepares a special gift for him on Valentine's Day. Knowing his love for swords, she surprises him with a beautifully crafted sheath for one of his blades, personalized with intricate designs that reflect their shared journey together.

Zoro and Y/N spend Valentine's Day evening taking a leisurely stroll along the shores of the island. With the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the moonlight casting a soft glow, they share quiet moments of intimacy, lost in each other's company.

During their stroll, Zoro and Y/N encounter a group of wild creatures roaming the island. With their swords drawn, they effortlessly dispatch the beasts, their synchronized movements a testament to their unwavering bond as swordsmen and lovers.

As the night progresses, Zoro and Y/N build a campfire on the beach, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows around them. They share stories of their past adventures and dreams for the future, their laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean.

Under the starlit sky, Zoro finally opens up to Y/N, expressing his gratitude for her presence in his life. He admits that he's not good at expressing his feelings, but Y/N's unwavering support and love have changed him for the better.

Moved by Zoro's vulnerability, Y/N wraps her arms around him, offering him comfort and reassurance. She assures him that their love is enough, and she wouldn't have their Valentine's Day any other way.

As the night comes to an end, Zoro and Y/N make a promise to each other to continue facing life's challenges together, hand in hand. They vow to cherish every moment and celebrate their love not just on Valentine's Day, but every day.

As they watch the sun rise on the horizon, Zoro leans in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips, sealing their promise with a silent vow of devotion. In that moment, amidst the beauty of the dawn, they find solace in the certainty of their love for each other.

As they return to the ship, hand in hand, Zoro and Y/N share a knowing smile, their hearts full of love and gratitude for each other. Though their Valentine's Day was unconventional and filled with unexpected adventures, it was a testament to the strength of their bond and the depth of their love.

Portgas D. Ace:

Y/N wakes up early on Valentine's Day to prepare a special breakfast for Ace. She arranges heart-shaped pancakes and fruit on a tray, leaving a note with a playful message for him to wake up to. Ace spends weeks leading up to Valentine's Day working on a handmade gift for Y/N. He creates a personalized necklace with a small pendant in the shape of a flame, symbolizing their fiery love and passion.

Y/N organizes a scavenger hunt around the Moby Dick for Ace. Each clue leads him to a different part of the ship, where he discovers small gifts and love notes hidden by Y/N.

Ace surprises Y/N with a romantic beach picnic at a secluded cove. They enjoy a delicious meal together as they watch the sunset, the sound of the waves providing a serene backdrop to their intimate celebration.

As the night falls, Ace and Y/N gather with their friends for a bonfire on the beach. They roast marshmallows, share stories, and cuddle close under a blanket, basking in the warmth of their love and the crackling fire.

Y/N sets up a telescope on the deck of the Moby Dick, and she and Ace spend the evening stargazing together. They point out constellations, make wishes on shooting stars, and share dreams for their future, Y/N certainly tries to find constellations that match Ace’s freckles. Ace surprises Y/N with a makeshift dance floor on the deck of the ship. He puts on her favorite song, and they dance together under the moonlight, lost in each other's arms.

Y/N leaves little love notes for Ace to find throughout the day. Each note expresses her affection and gratitude for having him in her life, reminding him of the depth of her love.

Ace and Y/N spend the afternoon cooking a special Valentine's Day dinner together in the kitchen. They laugh, tease each other, and steal kisses amidst the preparation, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. (Marco is on standby with a fire extinguisher)

As the day comes to a close, Ace and Y/N exchange heartfelt declarations of love. They express their gratitude for each other, promising to cherish and support one another for all the days to come, both of them yelling it at the top of their lungs of the railing of the ship and the crew is so done with them lol

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Doflamingo, despite his intimidating persona, secretly enjoys the sentimentality of Valentine's Day. He's known for surprising Y/N with extravagant gifts, ranging from rare treasures he's acquired during their travels to personalized items he's commissioned just for her. Y/N, in turn, cherishes each gift as a symbol of Doflamingo's affection, even if she's not one for material possessions. On Valentine's Day, Doflamingo arranges a private, candlelit dinner on the deck of their ship or a secluded spot on the island they're currently exploring. He spares no expense in ensuring the evening is perfect, with gourmet cuisine prepared by their crew's skilled chefs. Y/N appreciates the effort he puts into creating these intimate moments and enjoys the opportunity to spend quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life.

Instead of focusing solely on lavish gifts and grand gestures, Doflamingo and Y/N often reminisce about their shared adventures and memorable moments throughout the years. They spend Valentine's Day reflecting on the challenges they've overcome together, the laughter they've shared, the tears they’ve shed and the unbreakable bond that has formed between them.

Despite their often intense and tumultuous journey as pirates, Doflamingo and Y/N also value quiet moments of affection. They may spend Valentine's Day simply enjoying each other's company, whether it's lounging on the deck, stargazing, or taking a leisurely stroll on the beach hand in hand. It's in these peaceful moments that they feel most connected.

Doflamingo and Y/N have a deep understanding of each other, and Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unspoken bond they share. They may not always verbalize their feelings, but their actions speak volumes. Whether it's a knowing glance, a comforting touch, or a gentle smile exchanged between them, they both know that their love is unwavering.

Eustass "Captain" Kid:

Despite her tough exterior, Y/N secretly enjoys the romantic gestures she receives on Valentine's Day. Kid, though he may not admit it openly, takes great pleasure in surprising Y/N with small gifts and tokens of affection, leaving them anonymously for her to find. Kid's idea of a Valentine's Day gift may not be traditional, but it's always heartfelt. He might present Y/N with a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and tailored to her unique fighting style, or a rare treasure he stumbled upon during their travels, symbolizing the adventures they've shared together.

Y/N, with her artistic flair, expresses her love for Kid through her creations. She might spend weeks crafting a personalized piece of jewelry for him, incorporating elements of his Jolly Roger or symbols that hold significance to their relationship, showcasing her devotion in a tangible form.

Amidst the chaos of their pirate life, Y/N and Kid cherish the quiet moments they steal away together on Valentine's Day. They might escape to a secluded spot-on deck, watching the stars and sharing stories, finding solace in each other's company amidst the vastness of the sea.

For Y/N and Kid, Valentine's Day is not just about romantic gestures, but also about embarking on new adventures together. They might set sail to explore uncharted islands, face formidable foes, or discover hidden treasures, strengthening their bond through shared experiences and thrilling escapades.

Despite their differences, Y/N and Kid's relationship is built on mutual respect and understanding. They may not always see eye to eye, but they know how to support and uplift each other, especially on Valentine's Day, when they take the time to appreciate the unique qualities that make their bond so special.

Y/N and Kid's Valentine's Day celebrations may not be conventional, but they're uniquely theirs. They might indulge in a feast of their favorite foods, engage in friendly competitions and challenges, or simply enjoy each other's presence, knowing that their love transcends traditional expectations.

As they spend Valentine's Day together, Y/N and Kid exchange promises for the future. They may vow to stand by each other through thick and thin, to continue exploring the world and facing its challenges together, and to cherish the love they share, knowing that their bond is unbreakable.

Charlotte Katakuri:

Despite their tough exteriors, Y/N and Katakuri secretly enjoy showering each other with romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N surprises Katakuri with handcrafted doughnuts with many flavours, each one meticulously made with love and care. In return, Katakuri presents Y/N with a beautifully crafted box of her favorite sweets, a testament to his thoughtfulness and affection. On Valentine's evening, Y/N and Katakuri escape the chaos of Totto Land for a private dinner date on a secluded beach. They indulge in a feast of their favorite dishes, sharing laughter and intimate conversation under the twinkling stars. As the night deepens, they dance together in the moonlight, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri exchange heartfelt love letters, expressing their deepest emotions and gratitude for each other. Y/N's letters are filled with poetic prose and declarations of undying love, while Katakuri's letters are eloquent and sincere, revealing the depths of his affection for Y/N.

As a special Valentine's Day surprise, Katakuri whisks Y/N away on a romantic getaway to a secluded island paradise. They spend their days exploring pristine beaches, indulging in couples' massages, and savoring gourmet meals prepared by a private chef. It's a blissful escape from their duties and responsibilities, allowing them to focus solely on each other.

On Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri reminisce about their favorite moments together, flipping through photo albums filled with snapshots of their adventures. They laugh at candid shots of themselves and smile fondly at pictures of special milestones they've shared. It's a heartwarming reminder of the bond they've built and the memories they've created together, a few of them are pictures taken by Y/N of Katakuri throughout the day, in some of them his scarf is hiding a smile or a blush a reason as to why she took the picture (yes she walks around with a Visual Den Den Mushi.. At least that’s what I think the picture taking ones are called) Y/N has been joining Katakuri during his Meriendas for years now and same as rumors spread about him meditating and talking to gods of battle during them rumors spread about her as well (I read a fic about this before where Y/N was considered his oracle and it’s an amazing one I’m trying to find it again) what they don’t know is that these two are being very sappy idiots, cuddling sharing kisses and laughs and stealing each other's sweets, especially on this day, the others just think that they’re doing some sort of ritual about devotion to Gods of Battle only lol.

As the night falls on Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri retreat to a secluded hilltop, where they lay beneath a blanket of stars, hand in hand. They share stories of their hopes and dreams, tracing constellations with their fingers and basking in the quiet beauty of the night sky. It's a moment of perfect serenity, a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lie ahead for their love.

Massacre Soldier Killer:

Despite their tough exteriors, Killer and Y/N secretly enjoy surprising each other with small romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N might leave a heartfelt note tucked into Killer's pocket, while Killer might craft a makeshift bouquet of flowers from materials he finds on their travels. Valentine's Day is a rare opportunity for Killer and Y/N to spend some quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life. They might steal away to a secluded spot on the ship or find a quiet beach where they can enjoy each other's company without interruptions.

Killer and Y/N reminisce about their favorite moments together, cherishing the memories they've created during their time as partners in crime. They might exchange stories about their most memorable adventures or laugh about the mishaps they've encountered along the way.

Despite their limited resources as pirates, Killer and Y/N find creative ways to exchange gifts on Valentine's Day. Y/N might fashion a piece of jewelry from shells she finds on the beach, while Killer might carve a wooden trinket with his expert craftsmanship.

Killer surprises Y/N with a romantic candlelit dinner, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal cooked from scratch. Y/N, in turn, appreciates the effort and thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and they enjoy a quiet evening together under the stars. While they may not always express their emotions openly, Killer and Y/N show their love and affection for each other in subtle ways. A gentle touch, a lingering glance, or a reassuring smile speaks volumes in the language of their relationship.

Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between Killer and Y/N. They reaffirm their commitment to each other, promising to stand by each other's side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges may come their way.

As they bask in the warmth of each other's love on Valentine's Day, Killer and Y/N discuss their hopes and dreams for the future. They envision a life together filled with adventure, laughter, and unwavering support, knowing that as long as they have each other, anything is possible.

Overall, Valentine's Day is a special occasion for Killer and Y/N to celebrate their love and appreciation for each other, strengthening the bond that binds them together as partners in both love and piracy.

Sir Crocodile:

Crocodile and Y/N aren't ones for grand gestures, so their Valentine's Day celebration tends to be understated. They prefer spending quality time together rather than getting caught up in the commercial aspects of the holiday. Crocodile surprises Y/N by preparing a simple but delicious meal for them to share. Despite his gruff exterior, Crocodile has a surprisingly deft hand in the kitchen, and Y/N is touched by the effort he puts into making the evening special.

Instead of extravagant gifts, Crocodile and Y/N exchange meaningful tokens of their affection. Y/N gives Crocodile a handmade leather-bound journal, knowing how much he values knowledge and planning. In return, Crocodile presents Y/N with a rare seashell he found during one of their adventures, a symbol of their shared experiences.

After dinner, Crocodile and Y/N enjoy a quiet evening together, lounging on the deck of their ship and gazing up at the stars. They talk about their hopes and dreams for the future, reveling in the simplicity of each other's company.

Despite their tough exteriors, Crocodile and Y/N share a passion for Planning and Conquest. They spend the evening poring over maps and planning their next expedition, excited about the possibilities that lie ahead. While they may not be overly demonstrative, Crocodile and Y/N show their love for each other in small, subtle ways. A gentle touch, a knowing glance, or a shared smile speaks volumes about the depth of their bond. As the night draws to a close, Crocodile and Y/N express their gratitude for each other, acknowledging the strength and support they provide in each other's lives. They may not say "I love you" in so many words, but their actions speak louder than any declaration of affection ever could.

Trafalgar Law:

Y/N is bubbling with excitement as Valentine's Day approaches, eager to celebrate the occasion with Law despite his usual reservations about the holiday. She takes the lead in planning the day, organizing a romantic dinner aboard the Polar Tang complete with candles, rose petals, and Law's favorite dishes. Law, although initially hesitant about the festivities, appreciates Y/N's enthusiasm and decides to go along with her plans, wanting to make her happy. He surprises Y/N with small but meaningful gifts throughout the day, such as a locket containing a picture of the two of them together or a handwritten note expressing his love and gratitude. Y/N showers Law with affection, peppering him with kisses and hugs as they spend quality time together, enjoying each other's company in the privacy of their quarters. They share stories and reminisce about their favorite memories together, laughing and smiling as they bask in the warmth of their love. Law surprises Y/N with a heartfelt gesture, such as letting her cuddle with him instead of working or giving her a massage to help her relax and unwind. They exchange promises of love and commitment, reaffirming their bond and promising to stand by each other through thick and thin. As the day comes to a close, Law and Y/N cuddle up together under a blanket, content in each other's arms and grateful for the love they share.

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mechaseraph · 3 months

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One guy. Er, I mean two, no, no! Four, four completely different guys, no correlation between them, no sir! Started this around same time as this KID one. It should be same style proportion-wise. As I was messing around for fun/on purpose of finding something that more cartoony? simpler in flow? Anyways, the design/style notes/thoughts under the cut, I did put lots of my exhausted braincells into Kaito/KID difference

Overall style inspos: 1) "I need to think of Sonic but like more human-y" 2) Miho Shimogasa (PPGZ/Kaito Joker/BatuSpi Toppa Bashin) 3) PSWG and SPvsW lol kinda, just from my head how I remembered em though

>Cone and Shin: Originally wasn't planning on putting shadows in his eyes, but without em he's straight up "People with blue eyes" meme. Creepy too much. Neat and sharp a bit. Cone is a pain to size correctly. I think I kinda got it right? But maybe he should had been just tad taller? You never know if he's like 95cm or 1m and something Side note, but Cone's shoes really make me think of Sonic's- >Shin and Kaito: Neat and bit sharp vs more laid back and messy. Also more puffy/round on corners? I basically want him to have puffy sleeves/sleeves that got some volume to em because it fits the magician in my eyes. Adds to hands/arm movement Also Shin's eyes of more your blue/dark blue shades, while Kaito's of blue-ish purple That's to say, I imagine/think Shinichi is the one who hunches more, while Kaito is the one who tends to lean back a bit/keep posture mostly straight (if he ain't sleeping in class lol) >Kaito and KID: Kinda pathetic and messy vs your perfect phantom thief. More shadowy/half-closed eyes vs "oh he's bright awake and ready to go stupid go crazy". Some guy vs the charisma itself. That's to say, shadows cover Kid's visible eye most of the time. And he also has that grin...or his mouth hidden at all. His hair appears bit more fluffier and neater, too. I also tried to keep that juxtaposition with Shinichi of "more sharps vs more round" with him as well. Overall, I like the thought of what if Kaito was more loser in canon, as in less people in school liking him, pitying for his family situation, etc, no entirely of course, because it's simply him, but feel it be more fun in contrast with Kid (and Shinichi) Also, for Kid's cape...just didn't felt like drawing it here, you can excuse me, right?

I think that's all I have to say, but if there's anything ya wanna point out/hear, please ask away!~

#dcmk #detective conan #magic kaito #kaitou kid #kaito kuroba #kudo shinichi #edogawa conan #mecha's shitty doodles #anyway uh if anyone wants to ref those either for style or just to color pick the palette go ahead #also my friend said this style made her think of those old vns from saturn/psx/pc engine of that time and it makes me happy #i'd love to try and mb do some fakescreenshots in that style...if i know how </3 and also what plot to put there #alas i am not good of a writer

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months

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the twinkle lights

lilac, chapter fifteen

a/n: yes that is lorelai gilmore in that moodboard and yes that scene those are screenshots from is partly the inspo for this chapter.

summary: “Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now. The last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, alcohol consumption (not by reader though), fluffy phone call

word count: 2049

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As yet another heavy sigh flowed from your lips, you tried to force your tense shoulders to relax as you felt the steam, from the coffee cup centimetres away from your mouth, kiss your weary features.

Hidden away in the corner of the inn’s kitchen, you sat slumped on a small stool, the one usually tended for reaching the stuff in the upper cabinets. But just as you took your next sip, keeping it small so as to draw out the eventual emptiness and the fate that came with it, the doors swung open and in burst the rotund visage of Donna, all done up from the bottom of her clacking heals to the peals hanging low from around her neck.

“What’s up, sluts!” her booming voice caused your father to jump and the piping bag in his grasp to nearly slip, though the entrance didn’t affect the sheriff who leaned against the far counter. His gaze stayed directed out the window where rows of foldout chairs were half set up. The remaining bubbles in Donna’s slender, lipstick-stained glass sloshed around as her eyes beheld the towering cake standing on the central worktable. And like a child, the inebriated woman couldn’t keep her fingers to herself as she reached out and swiped her finger through one of the swirly flowers piped around the tiers, “uh! Yum!”

But before she could bring the treat up to her lips, Harvey’s hand tapped over hers as he snapped, “no! Don’t you even dare!” raising up a finger and waving it in her face as he warned, “I have been working on this all week and I will not let you ruin it the last second!”

“Urgh, Harv, you’re so uptight, darling,” she rolled her eyes then held out her champagne flute, “here, why don’t you have a little glass of bubbly to calm your nerves?”

“Donna, just–,” you could almost make out the steam that spewed out of his ears, “get out of my kitchen! The rest of the night you’re not allowed in here or else–… or else…” he rapidly lost all of his gumption as he struggled and improvised a threat, “I’ll–… I’ll have Otto arrest you!”

Clearly not paying attention at all, Otto finally turned to face the rest as he overheard his name, “huh?” he raised his cosmopolitan up to his lips and took a small sip, “did you just say something about me?”

“Hah,” Donna laughed condescendingly, “sure he is, honey,” muttering as she sashayed around the kitchen table, “that’s funny… Otto, arrest me, his best friend of nearly 40 years, that’s–, oh!” her murmuring came to a screeching halt as she rounded the cake and your obscured figure came into her field of vision, “Y/n! There you are, you naughty, naughty girl! I heard a scrumptious little rumour that you were swapping saliva with a certain lumberjack in the Lilac Inn’s very own lobby just a few days ago… so, tell me, is he as great as I’d imagine?”

Exhaling lowly, you didn’t have the energy to humour her, “I thought you said you’d help with the decorations.”

“Oh, I persuaded a few of the groomsmen to finish up the final touches for me.”

“You–, okay, alright, sure…” you begrudgingly took the last drink of your coffee and set it down on the table, “I give up.”

Turning to the small-town sheriff and causing her party dress to swoosh in the process, Donna smirked, “hey, did you see the groom’s uncle? The bald one? I heard he’s recently divorced… you wanna go hunt him down?”

With the hand not clutching his pink drink, Otto linked arms with Donna and said, “sure, why not,” before the eccentric duo disappeared out the side door that led into the garden.

With now only yourself and your father remaining in the kitchen, you puffed out a long exhale before pulling yourself up to your feet, the soles aching slightly from how much you’d been running around.

“You alright, pumpkin?” Harvey lifted his gaze from his crouched position next to the tall dessert, bending over so close that his moustache nearly touched it as he kept a close eye on the whimsical patterns he slowly decorated on the white wedding cake.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, patting his shoulder gently as you passed, “just wish I had time for a longer break… wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” he called after you before you pushed the doors to the dining room open.

The wall of noise hit you at once as you exited the kitchen, like running straight into a brick building. It was like a storm of music and loud conversations all throughout the packed inn. Willing your fists to unclench, you tried to prolong the purposely deep breaths you’d focused on just minutes before.

Casting your glance out the tall windows, you spotted a few men, half in their suits, the jackets thrown off and the cuffs rolled up, stringing up twinkle lights from one tree to another. Swiftly, your gaze travelled further down and zeroed in on the set tables before you, across the neatly folded napkins and the various names on the place cards, one of the centrepieces especially caught your tense eye. Because of the immense stress you were already enduring, the slight askew nature of the vase, of both white and pastel purple lilacs you’d cut just this morning, made you feel as if drawing in a proper breath was the most difficult thing in the world.

Rushing to adjust it, even if it was just an inch, it still managed to bring a minuscule bubble of peace to your mind, sadly one that swiftly burst when two kids stormed through the room, one of them waving a sear piece of white cloth of his head. Promptly discerning what precisely it was they were playing with, you caught them right before they managed to rush back out of there.

“Wow!” you held them by the shoulders and kneeled down to be at their level, “hey, you two,” you tried your hardest to lighten your tone, “you mind giving that veil to me?”

“No, it’s mine!” the small boy clutched it to his chest.

“Okay, uhm,” you sighed, trying not to lose your patience in front of these children, come off as some scary fairy-tale witch and make them cry, “how about you give me this so that I can return it to Emma and then I tell you where the secret, magic swing is?”

“A magic swing?” the slightly taller girl’s eyes grew wide, “where?”

“It’s gonna cost you if you wanna know,” you held out your hand.

“Hmm,” the young boy squinted his eyes a moment before he cracked, “fine,” and gave you the veil, “where is it?”

“Behind the gazebo and in the direction of the pond,” you straightened back up and folded the accessories gently, “right there’s a huge tree with a swing on it.”

As they scurried off as fast as their little feet could take them, you turned and marched out into the lobby with your eye set on the grand staircase, but before your hand even reached the bannister, a frazzled man stopped you.

“Hey, miss?” however just as he called for you, the sound of your ringtone buzzed in your pocket, “miss?”

Fishing out your phone and not looking at the ID, you picked it up and briefly spoke into it, “hold on,” before twisting it away from your lips and turning to the mousy-looking man, “yes?”

Holding up a crisp white shirt, he pointed to one of the cuffs, “one of my buttons fell off and I–“

“Okay, hang on one second, I’ll find you a sewing kit. I just need to return this to the bride first,” you held up the veil.

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded and backed off into the sitting room to the side.

Beginning your ascend of the stairs, you turned your haphazard attention back to the phone, “hello?”

“Y/n?” Frank’s deep timbre flowed from the phone and seeped into your very core, “is this a bad time?”

Passing a few rowdy bridesmaids on the steps, they nearly bumped into you and caused you not to comprehend a single one of the words Frank had just said, “what?”

“I asked if this is a bad time,” he repeated as you reached the top of the steps, but as you did, the shrill wail of a baby, cradled in its mother’s arms, pierced your very soul.

“I–, uhm, what?” you whipped your head around and spotted the hall closet off to the side, “I’m sorry, just one second,” and rushed to duck into it. The thin wall didn’t manage to drown out all of the noise, but it did get quiet enough for you to finally hear yourself think again. Switching on the dull lightbulb, “fuck…” you let yourself slide down the length of the door till you sat on the floor, “there,” you exhaled slowly, “hi, now I can hear you. What’s up?”

“Are you alright over there?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now,” resting the veil in your lap, you stretched out your legs, “the last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.”

“Sweetheart, it’s you,” his smile shined clear through in his low voice, “you could easily pull off wearing jeans to a wedding if you’d like.”

Feeling the corners of your lips gently tug upwards at his words, you breathed out, “so, did you just call to talk about the fact that I’m still in jeans and not the jaw-dropping green dress I got, or was there something else you wanted?”

“I just called to check in, see how you were holding up, but also to make sure you’re still up for tonight.”

Letting your spine rest back against the door, you shared, “honestly, the thought of going over to yours as soon as this is all over and they don’t need me anymore is the only thing getting me through the day without having a fucking meltdown…”

Letting a low sigh flow from his lips, you heard him ask, “you sure you don’t need me to get over there?”

“You’re sweet, but no, it’s alright,” you smiled, your fingers gently fiddling with the veil, “actually, it’s probably good that you’re not here. With the way Donna’s already enjoying herself with the champagne, you might end up as her next husband before the couple says I do.”

“Oh,” he swiftly mirrored the laugh that bubbled out of you, “well in that case.”

After the chuckling had died back down, you tried your best to sink into the quiet completely and enjoy the fleeting pause his phone call had granted you.

After the moment of comfortable silence had come to a close, Frank’s voice flowed from the phone once more, “So, tell me,” the playful nature in his tone was still blatantly clear for you to pick up on, “just how jaw-dropping is that dress of yours?”

“Well,” you bit down on our grin, “I won’t be able to wear a bra with the kind of neckline that it has… and with the way that it falls on me, I might not be able to wear underwear as well,” that wasn’t true in the slightest, but he didn’t have to know if you’d slipped them off before you even put the dress on or mere moments before stepping out of the car to see him. The thought of him imagining you without them the entire night was far too enthralling not to entertain, “would be such a shame if the dress got ruined by distracting lines, wouldn’t it?”

As you heard him puff out a gravelly breath, “fuck me…sweetheart, you’re killing me here…” you simply giggled in return, “uhm, when was it again that you’ll be done?”

“Not completely sure, some time after dinner properly. I’ll send you a text when I head out.”

“Alright.”

“You want me to try and steal some cake with me? We might need a snack a little later…”

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled, “you planning on working up an appetite, are you?”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

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pagesfromthevoid · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 13

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Violence. Reader stabs herself. Murder.

Author’s Note: They’re gonna be happy. I swear. Just. Just be patient. Inspo for her gown! Might I recommend listening to Dress by Taylor Swift when she reveals her gown? Gif from @fictional-thoughts

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Engagement

Something about arriving in Senex, then leaving, then arriving again without issue gave Din an overwhelming feeling of paranoia. It shouldn’t have been so easy –the Crest was able to go undetected just fine, but there was no way that Calisto and her men weren’t keeping an eye on the skies. More importantly, he shouldn’t have been able to sneak back into her bedroom just as easily as he had before either, but there he was, setting Grogu up on her bed.

There was commotion downstairs –music, voices echoing through the empty halls and vents. He must have gotten there just in time for the party to have started. Which meant he didn’t have much time to get her and get her out of there. Din hoped that she had gotten the tracker out, but the thought of her cutting it out of herself brought on an anger that he needed to control if this was going to work.

Grogu babbled, reaching up to him as Din checked over his armor.

“It’s going to be okay, kid,” he promised, resting a hand on the child’s head gently. “Isowen will be here to keep you safe, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Din and Grogu exchanged looks as the bedroom door creaked open. Drawing his blaster, Din pointed it at the intruder, only for Isowen to stop in her tracks with her hands in the air. Her eyes were wide, but Din lowered his weapon and she shut the door with her foot.

“The princess is downstairs with her mother,” Isowen explained, walking into the bedroom entirely, though she stopped at the end of the bed. Grogu stared up at her with wide eyes. “This must be the little one she’s spoken of.”

Din nodded, holstering his gun. “He’ll be safe with you, then?”

“I will protect him with my life,” Isowen promised, lifting Grogu into her arms. “Just as I have protected his mother.” The two exchanged looks, with Isowen meeting Din’s gaze carefully. “Treat her well, Mandalorian. Or I will be who you answer to.”

Din wanted to counter her threat and ask where she was when Calisto was pawning her child off –but he decided against it. There was only so much Isowen could have done for her, and he wasn’t going to insult the one person that his princess seemed to have left in the home that cared about her.

She had him now too.

“The party has begun,” Isowen explained, resting Grogu on her hip. “The announcement of the engagement will not be until the end.”

“Did she get the tracker out?”

The lady in waiting shook her head, looking away for a moment. “She asked me –I couldn’t bring myself to cut her open like that again, though. I am sorry, Mandalorian.”

He huffed through his modulator, but didn’t comment. Instead, he simply nodded and exited the room. A kink in the plan but nothing he couldn’t figure out in the moment.

*****

Downstairs, at the party, she was standing alone in the back. The hall was set up in a way that obscured her from view, but allowed for an excellent vantage point to scan the room. Usually, she and her father sat there to people watch. Now, it worked well for surveillance.

Her armor was obscured enough by the gossamer of her cape. Besides, her mother didn’t even bother to ask her about the addition. Just as Isowen promised, the sleeves of her dress were removed and allowed for a full view of the scar that took up most of her arm now. She would let the whole galaxy know what her mother did if given the chance. The Senate should know who was taking her father’s place.

“If I didn’t know any better,” a soft voice teased. From around the corner came Leia Organa with a glass in her hand. Leia gave her a small, playful smile. “I’d think you weren’t the purpose of the party.”

“What gave it away?” She asked, holding her hands behind her back now.

“Honestly, the entire thing,” Leia admitted, looking out over the party now. “Though, Credence and your mother being the actual center of attention really confirms it.”

She nodded once, scanning over the party. Her eyes caught a crack in the servant’s doorway, and a quick flash of light caught silver. A smile spread over her lips, knowing well what that meant.

Who that meant.

“Leia, I need your help,” she finally concluded, looking to the other princess at her side.

“Does it involve getting you out of this marriage? Because if it does, absolutely.”

She looked a bit surprised, unsure if Leia was being serious. But then she nodded once. “It does. But it also involves saving my…a child from Moff Gideon.”

Leia’s brow furrowed, though she kept her eyes on the party. She was certain the other princess caught her slip up, but if she did, Leia said nothing. “Gideon died, I thought?”

“Apparently not.”

“Why is he interested in a child?”

She opened her mouth to explain then stopped, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure of the answer. Din never really explained why Gideon was so interested in Grogu; just that he had been chasing after them for years now. It didn’t really matter, if she was honest with herself. Whatever Grogu had that Gideon wanted –she wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her child.

“I…don’t know, truthfully,” she finally admitted, looking away from the crack in the door and to Leia. “I just know that I have to protect him.”

Leia glanced over at her then nodded once. “You have an escape plan?”

“I have a Mandalorian and a ship.”

“I’m sorry, you what?”

The two finally looked at each other properly, as Leia’s husband joined them. Han Solo held a glass in his hand, looking annoyed by the entire ordeal.

“When can we leave?” He asked, finishing off his drink. “This entire thing is a joke.”

“Han,” Leia warned, looking up at him. “This is the Princess of Senex.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

She waved him off, shaking her head. “It is a joke, you’re right.”

“And we’re going to help get her out of here,” Leia explained, taking his arm. “With the help of a Mandalorian, apparently.”

“Weren’t you taken by a Mandalorian?” Han asked, looking down at her with a frown.

She shook her head, looking back out as a new stormtrooper suddenly joined the party as a guard. He nodded at her and she smiled knowingly.

“No, I wasn’t.”

*****

Din slipped into the party with ease, having gotten rid of another trooper and taken their armor. While he wasn’t entirely sure where in the hall she would be, he would find her. He surveyed the room, searching for any sign of her presence. He could feel the weight of his mission pressing down on him, but he tried to push it aside and focus on the task at hand.

As he weaved his way through the crowd, he kept his eyes and ears open, listening for anything that might lead him to her. Finally, he caught an offset of the room –a corner that was sheltered away. If she wasn’t in the main room, that’s exactly where she’d be. He quickened his pace and disappeared into the throngs of partygoers, slipping around the corner without a word.

A young woman stood next to his princess, whispering to her. She glanced at him, frowning deeply. “I think we should take this elsewhere.”

“It’s fine,” she promised, nodding to Din behind the enemy mask. One of his hands found the small of her back without hesitation. “He’s mine.”

The man beside the other woman gave her a wary look before he realized what she meant, then he turned to Din. “I thought Mandos couldn’t take off their helmets?”

“Doesn’t matter,” was all he said.

He put his hands up in defense, giving a feigned look of offense. “Why do I feel like this is gonna break into a firefight?”

“Because it will,” Din offered as an explanation, and he gripped his blaster tight in his hands. “Who are these people?”

“Leia,” the woman offered, motioning to the man beside her. “This is Han.”

“And no, it won’t,” she countered, giving him a wary look. “Not if I can get this tracker out of my arm –,”

“The what out of where?” Leia demanded, grabbing her hand to pull her arm from beneath her cape. Disgust painted the older princess’s features as she examined her arm. “Stars above, this is –,”

“How are you gonna get it out?” The other man interrupted, looking over the healed scar. “Without, y’know, cutting it back out?”

“That was the plan,” she admitted, reaching for the dagger beneath her skirts. She turned to Din, looking up at him now. “I need you to do it.”

Din stared at the dagger, the feeling of anxiety overwhelming him. It wouldn’t be his first time cutting something out of someone, but something about doing it to her created a rock in his stomach.

“I…I don’t think I can,” he admitted, voice quiet behind the trooper’s mask.

Her brows knitted together, looking up at him with a small frown. She glanced at the other two, then pulled him to the side. “Din, I…you have to do it. I can’t; you’re the only person I trust to do it –,”

“I can’t, cyare,” he whispered back, shaking his head. “I can’t hurt you like that. I…I don’t think I can.”

“Din, if I do it, then there’s a higher chance I cut something fatal.”

“No, you won’t —,”

“Din —,”

“If you two are done,” Leia interrupted, looking between the two now. She plucked the dagger from her hands, glancing at the signet engraved on it, then back at his princess. “I’ll do it.”

“Absolutely not,” Din snapped, taking the weapon from her. Between a stranger offering to slice open his wife and that same stranger taking her weapon, Din was not having it.

“Hey, we have trouble,” Han announced, peering around the corner. “If we’re gonna make our getaway, now is the time.”

Din pushed him out of the way, taking a breath as Calisto and Credence moved to the center of the party. Gideon was standing to the side, scanning the room for any sign of trouble. Din was about to give him trouble, but she grabbed his arm.

“Leia and Han are going to join the party,” she explained, looking at them as they nodded and made their exit. She gripped his arm hard over the armor. “It’s going to be okay, Din. Get your armor –you’re going to need it.”

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. There was a sudden increase of guards in the room, and Din knew well it meant Calisto was starting to catch on that she was missing from the party. Turning back to her, he scanned her features for any hesitation –any fear. But she stood tall before him.

“Do not make a single move without me in this room,” he warned, pointing at her with warning. He knew she would try to fight this on her own; he couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have that. “We fight this together, do you understand me?”

She nodded once. “I do.”

*****

Once Din had disappeared into the shadows of her home, she made her way back into the fray of party goers. Most didn’t even notice she had disappeared from the ordeal; some asked her questions but she ignored them as she pushed her way to the front.

On the side stood Leia and Han, who were watching Moff Gideon with careful expressions. She nodded once to them as she stood at the edge of the crowd. Her mother raised a brow at her, as if suddenly realizing her daughter was even present, then motioned her forward to join them. That same forced smile spread over Calisto’s face, pretending that she was happy to see her daughter, as she stood beside her mother.

“Thank you all for coming,” Calisto announced, motioning to the crowd. “It is truly a marvelous day to be together in this room.”

The crow clapped, cheering brightly as if they had any idea what was happening. She wanted to roll her eyes; scold them for the part they were playing in such a farce. But she played her part, standing there silently as she scanned the crowd once more.

“Today, our family becomes one with the Credence’s,” Calisto continued, motioning to Silas who stepped forward next to her. “As he has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

As if the crowd was excited to hear that their young princess was suddenly engaged to an old man, they broke out in cheers and congratulations again. From her place in the room, she could see everything. The cheering crowds, the questioning faces. Not everyone was excited; some of them saw through it all. Those were the faces she counted; the ones that she knew would be her saviors if the plan went south.

“Silas, if you would present the ring,” Calisto commanded, voice laced in an insincere sweetness that made her want to choke.

Silas stepped towards her, holding out a rather simple ring; one that had no thought put into it. Why would he need to? She had to say yes; it didn’t matter if she liked him or the ring or anything about it. It was when he reached for her hand, though, that she glanced around the room once last time. The crowd was split; some were too drunk to realize how ridiculous this was. Some were realizing that something was wrong.

And when Silas took her hand roughly, she wanted to yank it back. His hands were cold, as if he had been dead for years already. They weren’t welcoming, they weren’t caring. They were boney and calloused and felt like they weren’t even real.

As he moved to slip the ring onto her finger, though, she realized that she couldn’t do this. Even if it was all a facade, she couldn’t let this awful man put a ring on her finger and claim her as his. Not when she held the dagger against her skin. Her mind, briefly, thought back to the night she shared with Din when he asked her to marry him. If Credence so much as brushes against you, I want you to put this dagger into his jugular, Din had said. In the moment, it had been alarming to consider –but now, with her hand in the grasp of Silas Credence –

Her dagger found its place in the old man’s throat.

She hadn’t even realized she had pulled it out; there was no weight shift in her hand. No thought outside of not letting the bastard put a ring on her finger, allowing him to claim what was only Din’s –the only thought she had was not to let them win.

And so she stabbed him, and every sound came back to the room as members of the crowd started to scream. Calisto was next, shouting at her to stop. Silas had fallen to the floor, clutching his throat where the blood seemingly would not stop pouring out. And there she stood, bloody dagger in hand, staring down at the body as if she hadn’t just killed a man.

Then, she slowly turned to her mother, who was now pointing a blaster at her head. Leia and Han pointed their own at Calisto as Din parted the crowds with their child in tow. Every stormtrooper in the room held their weapons at the attack, pointing at her specifically but she did not think anything of it. With her eyes trained on Calisto, she reached up, unpinning the cape and allowing it to drop to the floor. Her gown, while regal and formal still, was overlaid in an armor piece that covered her bodice to her throat and shoulders. Chainmail chased itself from the top of her chest piece to her throat and across her arms. But her arms were exposed, sheer fabric no more.

Her hands raised in the air as she turned to the crowd in front of her. Credence’s blood covered her hands, but her scar –with the tracking beckon still dully blinking through her skin –was exposed to the room. “This is what your queen has done to your princess,” she announced. Her voice shook, but she stood tall. “She has made me a prisoner in my own home. She killed your Senator for her own gain, and promised me off to someone to maintain that power.”

Gasps and cries echoed through the room as she pointed the dagger at her mother now. Calisto stepped to the side but she followed the movement, eyes narrowed. Din stepped forward next, with Han and Leia close on his heels.

“I was not taken,” she continued, though her eyes never left Calisto’s movements. “I ran from the life my mother is trying to force me to have. And I will continue to run if that is what it takes.”

“There is nowhere in this galaxy you can go that I won’t find you,” Calisto sneered, motioning to the tracking device on her wrist, poised now to electrocute her. “I know all, child. I always have.”

She glanced at her arm, waiting for the shock but it never came. “You’re right, mother. You can find me, can’t you?” For a moment, she hesitated, then she turned the dagger on herself –prying the device out of her arm. The pain was like nothing she had experienced before; even when having it placed, it did not hurt as bad as her digging the blade of her knife into her arm and using it to force the chip onto the floor.

Blood dripped from her fingertips as she stepped on the device, destroying it with the heel of her shoe. Calisto was left standing speechless, shocked that her daughter actually ripped herself open. There were many things that Calisto of Senex did not know about her child –things that even she did not know until recently.

“I am the princess of Senex,” she announced, pointing the dagger at her mother once more. “And I will not be held prisoner by you any longer.”

“Then you will be held as mine,” Gideon announced suddenly, aiming his blaster at her. Blaster fire overwhelmed the room, and suddenly she was on the floor, shielded by beskar and strong arms.

Din was right about the firefight after all.

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #mando x reader

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propertyofwhitney67 · 2 months

Text

Extra Help

M!Winter x AFAB!Reader

Words: 761

TW: teacher/student, cockwarming

Note: I got really horny and needed this old man so here we are

Inspo post

I’d been teasing him the entire class period. Subtly parting my legs every once in a while, showing off my wet cunt. Even occasionally reaching down and playing with myself when I knew he was watching. I could tell he was getting worked up. I’m surprised he hasn’t pulled me aside like he normally does, forcing me into a chastity belt for the rest of the day.

“Y/n. Meet me after school, we need to talk about your grades.” Not his best excuse, I was the best in class and shouldn’t be worried about my grades.

I smirked and nodded, “Yes sir.” He acknowledged me with a nod and returned to preparing for his next class.

Robin nudged me with his elbow on the way out of class, “What’s that about?” Sometimes he’s too curious for his own good. “You get great grades.”

I chuckled and waved him off, “Probably just a chance for extra credit or something.”

After school I didn’t bother changing out of my school uniform, just quickly walking to Winter’s classroom. I stopped short of the door and politely knocked, “Come in.”

I entered the classroom, closing the door behind me. “You wanted to see me?” I dropped my bag on a chair and stood in front of his desk. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” I asked, feigning innocence.

Winter sighed, “You’re such a pain sometimes, Y/n.”

“Yet you still can’t get enough.” I joked and walked around his desk, standing beside him. “Do you need any help?” I made a show of bending over and leaning on his desk.

He put a hand on my bare upper thigh before picking up a pen, “Though I’d have you help me grade some papers, it’ll keep you out of trouble for a while.” He handed me the pen and gestured to the pile of papers, “You’re a smart girl, you should know all the correct answers.”

I pouted, “Really? I thought we could have some fun.”

“Maybe if you do as you’re told.” He told me a matter a factly before pulling me into his lap. “Do you think you can do that, Y/n?”

I huffed but nodded, “Yes sir.”

He wrapped a hand around my waist and readjusted me on his lap, “Good girl.” I hummed happily at his praise and quickly got to grading the papers, wanting to get the boring part over with.

Winter seemed content to let his hands roam my body while I graded the papers. He was quiet for the most part, only grunting when I moved around too much or when he corrected a mistake I missed. I felt him harden under me, “Sir?” I asked coyly, shifting in his lap.

He cleared his throat, “Stand up.”

I smirked, dropping the pen and standing as instructed. I didn’t bother turning around as I heard him undo his pants, knowing what was going to happen. He lifted my skirt and slowly guided me back down onto his lap. I gasped, feeling his cock against my slit, “Winter…”

“Shh…” Winter shushed me, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone who was passing by the classroom. He doesn’t want to be caught fraternizing with one of his students.

I moaned lowly while he groaned as he slipped his cock in, “Fuck...”

Winter rubbed circles on my hip, “Watch your language, it’s not becoming of a young lady.” I knew he was only half joking but I didn’t have a comeback, I couldn’t think straight with him inside me. “Keep grading.” He instructed while handing me the pen. I whined but took it and went back to grading.

It’s always nice sitting in his lap and cockwarming him. I can relax when I’m with him, “What’s on your mind?”

“I wish we could spend more time together…” I explained my thoughts while fidgeting with the pen.

He softly kissed my shoulder, “I know.” Winter’s busy and we don’t get to spend much intimate time together. He took the pen from my hand and put it in its proper place on the desk, “I think you’ve done enough.”

A pit formed in my chest, fearing I said something wrong. I took a deep breath and stood up, fixing my skirt and stepping away, “No.” I turned back, surprised. “I still have some extra time to spend with you.”

I smiled happily and hopped up on his desk, spreading my legs and giving him a perfect view of my cunt. “How much time?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “You’re a handful.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

#dol #dol x reader #dol winter #winter the history teacher #winter dol #degrees of lewdity #winter degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity winter the history teacher #degrees of lewdity winter #degrees of lewdity fanfiction #degrees of lewdity fanfic #degrees of lewdity imagine #degrees of lewdity imagines #dol fanfiction #dol fanfic #winter x reader #dol winter x reader #my writing

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

JASON TODD | RED HOOD (generalized canon)

────────────────────

“Potential” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader)

| You meet an interesting stranger in the syfy aisle. Oh! And there’s a body between you two.

| SFW, meet-cute shit (TW: Reader is briefly harassed, infidelity mentioned, radical book recommendations)

| Inspo: There’s this part in the Gotham Knights game where Hood’s talking to Harley and she goes “And! And! And! He would've personally taken me back to Blackgate. Like a gentleman.” and his response is “Yeah, we both know I’m not a gentleman.” and that line has me fucked up its delivered so well.

| The pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Red Hood: Outlaws webtoon)

| 1k+ words

You were in the middle of the bookstore quite happily minding your business when you spotted your ex-boyfriend.

The sigh you let out is from the debts of your soul. You curse your bad luck before ducking down to hide inside the fantasy section; moving through the store on quick feet in hopes of losing him by the syfy books so you could go about your day unscathed. From what you remember the man had a fervent dislike of the prospect of alien sex.

You had no feelings for your ex whatsoever, but he was a dick – a huge one – and you knew from experience that it would only end in an argument if he discovered you here.

Swiftly rounding another corner you almost bump into someone.

“My bad,” you say automatically, looking up.

When you see who it is your eyes squeeze shut, trying to keep your calm, before you open them again when your ex's annoying voice reaches your ears.

"Hey, Y/N! It's been a while, you look great."

"Mhm," you hum, but add louder and with fake lightness, "It has been a while, but I'm in a hurry so..."

You want to turn around and leave, but he completely ignores your words and continues talking.

“You know, it’s funny, I was just thinking about you.” He licks his lips and takes a good long look at your chest. “Maybe it’s a sign. You wanna come over?"

“Mm.” you grunt, pushing past him without caring for his potential response. “That’d be hard to do with my work and all. I’m pretty busy nowadays.”

It’s a statement, there’s no suggestive or sly lilt present in your words, period. You don’t want to give him any false hope or rile him up.

There was a reason you ignored all of his attempts to get back with you. He was the one who cheated, fucking you up for months afterwards. Why he thought he was gonna work his bummy ass back into your life was beyond you.

While passing him he suddenly reaches out, his pale fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. Your book slips from your grasp and hits the ground with a damning thud.

“Look, I’m down. Yes or no? I hate when you play around like this.”

There it was again, you’re not surprised by the sudden change of attitude. He’d always been like that, friendly and happy as long as everyone did what he wanted, aggressive and rude when not. Two sided asshole.

“Let go,” you keep your voice even to not draw any attention, ignoring the urge to immediately cuss him out.

The grip on your wrist tightens, his eyes flashing with rage, and you contemplate swinging on him then running before your leg makes up your mind for you.

On instinct you were already twisting to get free, but as he tried to manhandle you he opened himself up. You take the shot without thinking, your knee coming up in a blur.

The man makes a low pained sound and slowly drops to the floor. You’re about to rush to the front, pay for your shit, and quietly make your leave - you did not want to be here when he got up - when a startled laugh reaches your ears. Your gaze snaps towards a fairly tall dark haired man.

So much for leaving quietly.

The newest addition to your section must sense your trepidation because when you fleetingly meet one another’s eyes he raises his hands.

“I’m not here to snitch,” he juts his chin out to indicate the other end of the aisle. “Was just walking through.”

“Yeah,” you nod, licking your lips. Your hand absentmindedly wraps around your wrist, rubbing at the phantom touch still present as you contemplate leaving your book behind.

New guy notices that too.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You glance at a smattering of neon colored paper backs, “it’s not like he had much chance to do anything but grab me.”

He doesn’t look like you’ve convinced him you’re fine but doesn’t push. Shrugging, he transitions the book he’d had under his arm to one of his hands and stuffs his free hand in his jacket pocket.

“If you say so-”

Right then is when your ex seems to regain some of his limited wits back.

“You’re a real ugly fucking bitch, Y/n.”

You open your mouth to throw something just as nasty back to him but the new guy beats you to it.

“Hey man, unless you're looking for another kick to the dick I’d watch your mouth around the lady.”

“Ohh,” you draw out dramatically with a tense giggle. His willingness to poke fun at the man on the floor has you feeling positive enough to make a move (though you’re still not exactly sure why he’s striking up a conversation with you).

“What a gentleman,” you bend over to snatch up your temporarily discarded book, bouncing right back to your position away from the new guy afterwards.

“Nah, nothing gentlemanly about me. Just imparting some wisdom.”

“That’s nice of you, but it’ll take way more than a few words to make this dumbass act like he’s got any sense.”

He makes an amused sound and smiles, a mild upturn of his lips. It fits on his face oddly, like he doesn’t do it often, but it makes you want to smile back anyway. He’s relaxed, clearly fit even under the sweats, hoodie and leather jacket, and holding what looks like How I Shed My Skin.

You give him a searching look at that. The book’s entry level College course shit but it was a…start. You’d read it as an unofficial recommendation from one of your professors, but only the once.

You point to where it’s held in his hand. “If you like that you should read Lies My Teachers Told Me. It’s more broad, but a good read.”

He looks down at the book like he forgot it was there, brow raised, before chuckling.

“Oh, this is for one of my sister's classes. She asked if I’d read it with her so she’d have someone she actually likes to discuss it with.” He nods to you, flashes another smile. “I’ll - ah - I’ll be sure to check your book out though.”

“Cool. You come here often enough maybe you can tell me what you think?”

“Yeah. I’d be down for that actually. Thanks.”

New guy nods before tilting his head. He seemingly takes a better look at where your ex’s still curled up with both hands cupping his dick.

He whistles, “I gotta tell ya, I was gonna come in and save the day but you already had it handled. I think those are actual tears.”

“He was pissing me off and I just kind of - um? - reacted,” you shrug.

“You’ve got good aim then, that was a solid blow,” he nudges your ex with his foot causing the man to groan. “I could make him hurt for a bit longer if you want?”

You blink. How very tempting of him to offer.

“A little white on white crime?”

He scoffs, gives you an amused look.

“Why not?”

Your brows raise mildly and a huff of suppressed laughter passes your lips but you ultimately wave him off.

“As nice as that sounds, I'll have to pass.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs. “I’ve had a boring night.”

“Are your nights usually more entertaining than seeing someone get kneed in the balls?”

“Just typical Gotham shit. You know how it is.”

“Yup. You never know what's gonna happen in this damn city,” you flick your hand to accentuate your words and finally let a faint smile slip onto your face. “It’s home though.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

His eyes are intense, bordering on green, and you can’t look at them for too long as your conversation lulls.

You make an aborted motion towards the front of the store.

“Well I should - you know - get going, but it was nice talking to you. Thanks for the offer from before.”

“Hold on -shit! Sorry, I-” he makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a grunt.

You swivel back to him silently, tiny upturn playing on your lips when he waves his words away.

“Just- Any time,” he steps over your ex. “I’m Jason by the way.”

You raise an eyebrow at the hand he holds out, giving it a cursory inspection - lots of calluses, bruised knuckles - before throwing a little caution to the wind and shaking it.

“Y/n,” you smile at him and his eyes zero in on your mouth immediately. His own peculiar grin comes back from where it’d fallen off in your silence.

“Y/n,” he tests the name, makes it sound reverent. Like it tastes good on his tongue. “I’ll remember that. Next time I see you, you think maybe you could recommend something a little less…’broad’?”

“Hmm,” you tilt your head back, hand still clasped in his warm one, and look him up and down. He had promise and he was definitely good looking. You'd give him that. “If you finish my recommendation then you can for sure read something lighter with me.”

“With you, huh?”

You hum an affirmative.

“Alright I’ll -ah- take you up on that offer,” he lets go, backing up just enough that the heel of his sneaker bares down on your ex’s penis. The wheeze he lets out makes you giggle and Jason loves that if the dorky self satisfied look on his face is anything to go by. “Till next time, Y/n.”

“Goodbye Jason,” you tease before walking off. You’ll see if he makes the cut or if you’ll have to change bookstores.

NOTES: Honorable line mention from the game: when Jason says spatchcock chicken dead serious as if spatchcock is not the most ridiculous sounding word. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

p.s.: Jason canonically (I believe) can’t flirt so I was trying to find a balance between him being fine when he’s just striking a conversation and fumbling a bit more when he tries to secure a second meeting. Did I succeed? Who’s to say.

I’m not (obviously) going to do anything for Christmas but HAPPY beginning of KWANZAA!! (I’m posting this before the sixth day, but I’d like to think I’ve been practicing the principle of Kuumba with my little writing endeavor on this blog so 🤷🏾‍♀️.)

Anyway, thank y’all for all the follows and likes/reblogs this year, and let’s hope my plans for 2023 don’t fall through!

#jason todd #red hood #black!reader #black y/n #jason todd x black!reader #red hood x black!reader #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #red hood fluff #jason todd fluff #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #meet cute #black female reader

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okanadafreakingfan · 7 months

Text

Teach me to laugh again

Buggy X reader

Part 1

So this started as me writing out my OCs backstory but I’ve changed the POV so that it can be read as a reader insert. Currently it’s all angst and fluff cause they are children in this, after the flashback I’ll see about more mature themes :)

Let me know if you’d like to see more of this, title help me with inspo <33

Everything was cold. Whether it was the golden collar around your neck, or the chains shacked to your ankles, hidden beneath a long skirt, keeping you from running away, that made you feel this way. Or maybe it’s from the general lack of warmth in your life, since the day you ate that damn devil fruit. You only ate it 3 years ago, the day you turned 7. You were only a child. You still are a child, but it doesn’t feel like it. You feel like you’ve had you childhood stripped from you, had to grow up so fast, to mature in this new, unloving environment.

You ate it by accident, almost dying from hunger on the streets you resorted to stealing. it was the only food in reach, it was a bit odd, blue and swirly, but at the time you just assumed it was from the other side of the grand line, maybe even the red line, as that specific market was full of odd fascinations from many different places. You ate the odd fruit thinking nothing of the distastefulness of it, your mind was solely on survival. However, the person who set up the shop caught you around the corner, dragged you by the elbow and chained you to the shop stall. He said that you will have to earn that fruit with your life, and that he now owned you for your trespasses.

He chained you up and made you perform, after finding out that you had eaten a sing-song devil fruit, allowing you the power of voice, and a beautiful, alluring singing voice that was very profitable for the man that now owns you.

And so now here you are, ten years old, sitting on a wooden plank that substitutes as your bed, staring at the wall. You have no dreams, no aspirations. You barely remember the person you were before everything went downhill. can’t even remember the faces of your family.

Did i even have a family?

Oh well it doesn’t matter now. What good will thinking do me. I’m an object, a simple attraction that people pay to watch perform, a designated child prodigy,but no one knows the reason for your amazing voice is simply the effects of a Devil fruit.

all of a sudden your world crashes around you as the entire building shakes. The place is built near the shore, so it’s very likely to have been a cannon ball, pirates were attacking.

The wealth that has been wracked up by the establishment must have made its way to the pirates ears. Your eyes finally leave the wall as another loud bang goes off and the building shakes, there are no windows in the room your kept in, there’s no way of knowing what’s going on out there. Shouting and the sound of things being broken is all that can be heard. Footsteps coming closer and closer.

Drawing your legs close to your chest, tears start to form at the corners of your eyes. Although this is a horrible life to live, it’s the only life you’ve known, other than starving on the streets that is. You don’t want it to all be stripped from you once again, anything but that. And pirates were sure to be worse than any treatment you have gotten here.

The door to your so-called room suddenly gets bashed in, an older man with a prominent black mustache looks in and seems surprised to see you here. Next to him are two boys around my age, one with red hair and a straw hat, and the other with blue hair and a prominent red nose. You look at them for a moment. The older man (you later find out to be Gol D. Roger) steps forward to see if the key he has on him fits in the keyhole on the gold collar strapped to your neck. It doesn’t and he lets out a slightly annoyed sigh.

“Buggy, try get this lock picked,” he tosses him a thin lock picking tool “I’ll continue to look around, shanks with me” he orders that last part as he turns his heel to leave the room.

Buggy looks annoyed at this and grumbles something you can’t quite make out before sitting beside you to try pry off the collar.

“I’m buggy” he huffs, apparently not liking how silent you were being.

“Y/n” you whisper back, voice slightly horse from un use. You haven’t spoken a word in the past three days.

“Pfft” he chuckles as he continues to work at the lock.

“What?” You tilt your head, confused. He thinks you look sadly adorable with such a blank expression but such inquisitive eyes.

“It’s just the way your looking at me, it’s funny is all… uhh not that It’s a bad thing, or anything,” He curses at himself, he doesn’t want to make her think he’s a mean person, it seems like she’s got enough of that already from the looks of things. She was scarily thin though, and definitely looked too pale for comfort. Finally the clasp to the collar unlocked and the chain fell from it just as the building began to shake again, the walls crumbling slightly from pressure. They needed to get out of here quick.

“Comeone lets go” he says quickly, standing up and yanking you up with him. The chains around your feet clang at the movement. he, only now noticing them, lets put an audible groan as he tries to pry them off.

“Just take the gold collar and go, it’s more valuable than I am” you say, barely above a whisper.

Buggy just stares at you, not believing what just came out of your mouth.

“Do you think we’re just trying to get your gold off you!?” He yells, genuinely worried that that’s actually what you think is happening.

You simply give a small nod, what else would pirates want from you? In your mind You would have no other value to them.

“No! We’re getting you out of here, whether you like it or not, I am gonna save you and your gonna thank me” he shouts this, like a promise. The way you look at him makes something inside him break. The light in your eyes looks like it’s been dimmed a long time ago, and a part of him just wants to make you happy again, to see you laugh. And most of all, to see you away from this hellhole, and safe with him.

#buggy simps #child buggy cause he is lovable soft boi #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #opla #one piece

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marthammasters · 3 months

Text

@revenge-of-the-assbutt @firstaidspray @sachermorte thank u for enabling me NEWAY since I’ve been too dead to do any of my own hobbies here’s some thoughts on House & Co’s physical hobbies/lil crafts & such they do in the comfort of their home<3:

House: canonically does a ton of shit like piano/guitar/cooking/so on but In the spirit of him resisting change (At Times!) I think he’s gotten very good if not makes a fun time out of mending clothes🥺…. Didn’t wanna throw away his favorite shirts so it started w small hems+resizings until he looked up more tips online and get decorative w it. Pretty contrasting colors/patterns now randomly laid on his shirts and pants w only the careful eye(Cuddy+Wilson) to notice. If anyone cares

Wilson: gardening. Well as much one can do within his apartments/pretty nonplant friendly homes. He’s not a super greenthumb expert but it always gives him a lil confidence boost when he’s able to grow out spices and herbs & such to use in his cooking ♥️

Cuddy: she seems like a collage-making kind of girlie💗💗 no specific theme in em or anything but she still holds onto the potential self-aid of making vision boards and it’s relaxing for her to go thru magazines/etc + cut out whatever interests her enough to use. Rachel tries and cutely fails to help 💓💓💓

Chase: ironically enough for the prodigal son lol but . He genuinely seems like someone who enjoys spending time in silence/music doing puzzles w 1000+ pieces & such #DWEEB❤️. House once got him a 5000 piece puzzle of a kangaroo or w/e as a joke and he is Determined to complete it. In due time chase…

Foreman: the thought of Foreman crocheting is so dear to me….. he doesn’t rly tell anyone ab it but there’s a lot of half-finished + worn projects as proof around his home. #angsting it sorry but I think he took it up after his mom started deteriorating bc she crocheted too and it was a fonder reminder + sumn they could do together. One yr he gave the fellow ducklings scarves he made as Xmas gift. Not that he told him he made it tho😅#repressed

Cameron: I think she has a moderately sized zen garden on a table somewhere in her home she takes SERIOUS. Changes the lines/circles in the sand periodically, sees what new arrangement of rocks she can do etc etc. Girl that thing is meant to be relaxing!! also colorcodes/sticker-covers/etc her planner like a CHAMP.

Amber: she has the most well-detailed prettiest most concerning-when-read journal/diary everrrr. Dedicates a specific time in every day to it w specific pens of various colors. Some of the recounting even have lil doodles or if she takes the journal out w her she draws her view wherever she is<3 they’re literal chickenscratch but its still fun and fulfilling. It’s a bibleesque piece to Wilson’s Amber shrine btw

Thirteen: she’s hard to analyze for me soz 13heads I do love her #trust… nonetheless I bet she goes to hella dance classes. Partially for the exercise partially for the fun partially for the need to experience Life partially for the women. Heh. She’s rly into zumba, jazz, contemporary classes to be specific.

Taub: ok ok so remember when he did/bought pottery or w/e to convince his wife he was being faithful. I think he’d do it for real as a joke/alibi then be like wait…. This is kinda fun…? There’s no constraints to what he can make + the sculpting reminds him vaguely of plastic surgery work so he keeps it up.

Kutner: I think he draws + writes his own lil comics/zines 🫶 they’re mostly scifi or superhero and more than a lil inspired by his fave preexisting medias . He likes using the crazy cases he’s experienced w House as story inspo. Also he 4 sure runs dnd campaigns so well and fun. Btw

Masters: she’s a suckerrrr for trivia nights my lil nerd wife<3 but um anyway when she wants to relax she Really doesn’t want sumn that can become info overload so in free time she’ll make friendship bracelets, lil shapes/figures out of string, etc. Will someone please give this woman a full on loom to go cray with!!!!

Park: I can see it so clearly . I can see her lil handpainted warhammer and other tabletop game figures so perfectly in my head. She paints more than she actually plays(but she does !). God save you if you touch or tumble them.

Adams: I kinda DGAF about her sorry women… hmm there’s sumn compelling ab her doing blackout poetry plus occasionally full-on written when the inspo hits! started as a boredom thing in her job in the prison w whatever book she brought in then she kept on doing it w more and more written pieces she comes across.

I put so much time into this. Perhaps too much.😭feel free to gimme y’all’s thoughts on this/ur own ideas :3

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hearts4juzi · 9 months

Note

"do NOT ask me about ggy or patient 46 because i WILL begin ranting"

You see, I am incapable of ever listening to anyone, ever, so I must ask about GGY and patient 46

I have absolutely no knowledge of modern FNaF lore; I have not read any of the books (something I plan to fix whenever my bank account stops bleeding) so you're gonna have to do some heavy lifting here and tell me all about it

Ooh boy rubs my hands together

okay so im gonna start with ggy because i love Tony and Ellis. (i dont have the book in front of me tho so this isnt gonna be 100% every detail)

GGY is about a kid named Tony Becker who has an assignment in his 6th grade english class. He has to write a fictional mystery with side plots that tie into the main plot. He chooses to do this with his two friends. They use pen names whenever they do their english projects together (sobs and wails and cries into my hands) and Tony picked Tarbell, and his friends were Boots and Dr. Rabbit (or Rab for short).

Tony wants to start working on their project, but Boots and Rab want to go to the fazcade. Tony gives in when rab backs up boots (tony sees boots as immature and worries about outgrowing him and hanging out more with rab) tony wanders around the fazcade trying to find inspo, and then notices someone named GGY with top scores on some of the games. when he asks other people about it, they tell him the scores are seemingly impossible, but when he asks a staff member, he's told they haven't been hacked.

At some point he makes an online blog to ask about it and a girl he'd talked to in the fazcade asks him to meet her. she tells him that she thinks this is more than just high scores, and that he should stay out of it.

Oh also freddy keeps watching tony and at some point begins following him.

Tony finds out that GGY has a hacked party pass (or it was like a fun pass or smth) that gives them access to much more than it should, working almost like a security card.

Tony then finds out one of the school counselors has gone missing, and he sneaks into the librarian's office to learn more about it. he finds out two other counselors have also gone missing, all of them having gone to the pizzaplex before disappearing.

tony writes his paper and gives it to Rab and Boots to look over, and when they come back the next day, they've changed it into a fantasy story. And GGY is labled as the wizard's favorite apprentice, rather than someone getting high scores on arcade games.

tony is upset with rab and boots and begins calling htem by their actual names.

Rab is Greg, Boots is Ellis.

tony is also in trouble for sneaking into the librarian's office and using her laptop, so he has detention shelving books.

Greg come and offers to take him to the pizzaplex when he's done, and it's kind of implied he killed him there.

again i have bad memory and i dont have the book in front of my so anyone can feel free to correct anythign i got wrong or missed

now onto patient 46 who's from the therapy tapes in sb.

this'll be undeniably easier because i can just listen to the tapes. patient 46 is also not confirmed to be gregory, its just a theory, so im just gonna call them 46.

its important to note that 46 does not speak.

everything here is things implied to have been nonverbally communicated to the therapist.

Tape 2:

It starts with the therapist talking about how the day is nice, but 46 doesnt like the light, so the therapist draws the blinds. she then comments on how 46 is not talking to her today, and says that she gets reviews from patients, and when 46 doesn't let her help them, she gets bad reviews. she tells 46 she could get in trouble and get put in timeout, which 46 finds funny.

Tape 4:

New therapist is here, she asks if 46 is going to talk to her, and they dont reply. she asks whats wrong, and they gesture to the flowers. the therapist comments on them being particularly fragrant and moves them. The therapist then comments on 46 staring at something, and says they're "amazingly alert." she says shed like to have 46 tell her about themself, but 46 does not. the therapist instead chooses to look through their notes. she also comments on the chair not fitting 46, but its not specified if its too big or too small. she then asks if 46 is bothered by a new therapist, but 46 doesnt seem surprised or confused at all. the therapist says shes surprised by whats in 46's notes. she says they have a "rebellious side" and a knack for computers, and explains the word phenom to them. the tape ends with her asking if 46 considers themself a hacker

tape 6:

new therapise again! she tells 46 shes already read their files and knows what theyve worked on. 46 asks for a candy, and she gives one to them, taking one for herself as well. she says she wants to start with 46's parents, and claims it was tragic but she doesnt think 46 has processed it emotionally. she says they wrote it like they had read it off of a book. (her exact words are they wrote an objective rather than a subjective narrative, but 46 didnt know what that meant.) she says 46 spends a lot of time alone and is good at self-dialogue, which she explains is "asking urself questions and getting answers" she tells them to try asking themself how they feel about what happened to them. she tells them to let themself be upset about it so they can let it go.

tape 8:

same therapist as 6! she asks 46 if theyve thought about what they talked about. 46 had told them their past had made them sad and scared. the therapist asks if they had written down exactly what made them feel that way. she then says she works with many people who respond to tragedy differently. she asks 46 if their fantasies would be different had this tragedy not happened to them.

Tape 13:

new therapist again! she says when shes getting to know a client, she likes to find out abt their hobbies. when she doesnt get a reply, she asks if they like sports. 46 tells her they like to watch sports, but not play them. and that they like to stay inside. the therapist then reluctantly tells 46 that their previous therapists have gone missing. except one who was found dead, and they said her body looked to be mangled by machinery. the therapist also comments that 46 doesn't look concerned about it. she jokes about watching her back, which 46 finds funny.

Tape 14:

same therapist as 13. she asks if 46 knows about the pizzaplex, and says the technicians who work there know them. theyve seen what they think is 46 on the security cameras. they say 46 was accused of hacking their systems. the therapist says that the hacks are causing tons of problems, but that there's no solid proof it was 46, and 46 finds it funny that the techs are having issues. she says she finds it weird that 46 would spend time in such a busy, crowded place despite their loner attitude. she asks if its the electronics that 46 likes. she also says theyve designed programs that talk to them and repeat phrases. she says it asks them questions and prompts for responses, like their own little therapist. she said at first she had thought they were talking to themself, but it seems more like they were talking to someone else. she asks who it was.

Tape 15:

same therapist as 13+14. she starts with asking if 46 wants to do an ink blot test. she shows them an image, and 46 asks to hold it. 46 says it reminds them of a mask. the therapist asks if 46 likes the idea of being disguised, and how they make you invisible. she says being invisible lets you get away with anything, and asks 46 if they like that idea. she then moves on to something else, telling 46 that it seems theyve been talking to someone else. she says the techs think that its someone trying to lure 46 away, or manipulate them. the therapist moves to where she can see 46's eyes, and says she got something different from the communications. she accuses 46 of manipulating someone, rather than being manipulated. she says they were recorded on the security cameras with someone else. she says that it looks like the person theyre with has rabbit ears, which 46 finds amusing.

Tape 16:

Same therapist as 13+14+15. she says shes gotten another message from the pizzaplex that says that theres a glitch in the system that makes the animatronics more eerie than entertaining. she says the glitch spread system-wide and infected all the machines. she also says it was traced back to 46. she says the glitch broadcasted a dangerous message. she also says that when the techs were trying to fix it, the source shifted. she says that the glitch changed from a glitch and became a set of sub-routines that were made to do exactly what the glitch was doing. (which basically means it stopped just being a glitch and became part of the system?? i think?? idk shit abt computers bruh) when 46 does not reply, she presses, saying she is on their side and wont tell anyone what is told to her during the session and that the techs have no proof it was 46, so theyre not in trouble. when 46 doesnt reply still, she brings up their past. 46 refuses to look at her, but she continues. she says it doesnt matter if they look at the floor, because nothing they told her about their parents was true. she says they had great parents, and a great childhood. she asks 46 why they lied, and tells them to look at her. she then says she understands why 46 would be upset about the confrontation, and says they can come back to this another day. the last line she says is "you're shaking your head like that's not going to happen."

UHM YEAH IM NORMAL ABOUT THEM LOL.

i have a lot of thoughts on both of these parts and i personally believe 46 is Gregory. but if i dumped all my thoughts we'd be here all day so have this long ass explanation instead

#fnaf #ggy #patient 46 #dr. rabbit #fnaf security breach #tony becker #TZU rambles #a lot #TZU asks

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

Text

V ║ Confound

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

{ << Part 4: Contingent | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 6: Confute >> }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: You and Dieter keep things inside... in more ways than one.

Warnings: NO angst/fighting/jealousy/possessiveness (whaaaa), FLUFF (whaaaa), drinking, swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (m receiving), safe unprotected sex (be smart kids!), Dieter is softer than ever, yearning, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.2k (!!!)

Note: This part is dedicated to the one and only Ash @mandoblowmybackout 😘 HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH! Thank you for cheering me on, sending me endless inspo and letting me scream at you in DMs about Javier and Din before always guiding me back to the light that is Dieter Bravo these past few weeks. You are the real MVP! More notes at the end.

This chapter picks up immediately after Part 4: Contingent.

He holds up a finger and reasons, 'What if I went to bed intending to fuck you the next morning? Not really breaking the rules if you asked me.'

You roll your eyes at his convoluted argument. 'Well, are you going to?'

The morning after

You didn't know that you snore.

But you know you're awake. A hangover is pounding audibly in your ears, and it's unmistakably snoring that you hear over the dull thud.

Your elbow hits something warm and solid as you turn on your back. The snoring breaks off for a second in a snort, then resumes its steady rhythm.

You groan in exasperation, your throat scratchy from slumber as you reach out and slap the expanse of the broad bare back next to you. 'For fuck's sake, Bravo, I said no sleeping over!'

Dieter jolts, grunting as he reaches out blindly to fend you off. He mumbles into the pillow, 'Fuck off.'

You try to sit up, but you're naked under the covers. Wrapping yourself in the sheets, you try to bodily shove him off the bed. 'I'm serious. Get the fuck out of here, Bravo!'

In a flurry of white linens, you find yourself knocked flat on your back, your wrists firmly in one of his big hands. He scowls at you, hair mussed, his voice deeper than you've ever heard it. 'Seriously sweetheart, I'm not a morning person, so cut it out.'

'You agreed to the rules,' you remind him. You try to move your hands but his hold on you is unforgiving.

Dieter shrugs. 'Whose fault is it really? Me, who fell asleep, or you, who fell asleep and failed to enforce your own rules?'

'You're such an asshole.'

He holds up a finger and reasons, 'What if I went to bed intending to fuck you the next morning? Not really breaking the rules if you asked me.'

You roll your eyes at his convoluted argument. 'Well, are you going to?'

A lazy grin tugs one side of his lips upwards. 'You'll just have to wait to find out,' he says with a yawn. 'I'm fucking starving. Can we order room service?'

'Which part of we're just fucking do you not understand, Bravo?' you grouse. 'I'm not having breakfast in bed with you.'

'It's my treat, you're welcome, sweetheart,' he replies and clambers over you to reach for the phone, literally crushing your protests as he calls front desk and proceeds to order what sounds like everything on the breakfast menu.

'I'm going to take a shower,' he announces when he's done, slamming the receiver back on the phone and pecking you on the lips.

You splutter at the casual show of affection. 'Shower usage was not part of the deal -'

With a huff, Dieter presses a firm kiss to your lips, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth until you capitulate. Drawing back leisurely, he grins at you. 'Relax, sweetheart, you don't have to say no to everything. All the fucking time.'

Clearly smug at having shut you up - for now - he saunters into the bathroom, still in his boxers that he didn't take off last night.

A very small part of your brain admits that you wish he did.

You dive back onto the bed, pulling the duvet over your face. Ugh. It's 7:30 in the goddamn morning. After making good on his promise of making it up to you with a very respectable hat trick of orgasms last night, your pussy is still very rudely raring to go since he insisted he was too strung out to fuck.

Dieter hasn't been in the shower for long when there's a knock on the door. Your tummy rumbles and you perk up at the prospect of coffee and bacon. Maybe room service isn't the worst idea, after all. You put on your robe and cross the messy floor to open the door.

It's the skinny pink suit that throws you first. You realise on second glance that the woman at the door has a few years on you - probably in her mid- to late-40s - primped to Hollywood perfection with white blonde hair, Botox and red lipstick. She radiates authority.

You're pretty confident that she isn't here with the room service.

She glances at you from head to toe in what seems like a cool assessment, before asking, 'I'm looking for Dieter Bravo. Is he here?'

'No,' you answer too quickly. At her arched eyebrow, you add sheepishly, '...Ma'am?'

Then of course, Dieter chooses this particular moment to start singing in the fucking shower. A very throaty and off-key rendition of Fleetwood Mac's Go Your Own Way bounces off the bathroom tiles.

The lady gives you a look that says busted.

You sigh in defeat and open the door wider. 'Come in, please.'

You wince when she casts her eyes on the disarray. The air is stagnant with alcohol and sex. You snatch up clothes from the floor, both yours and his, and shove them into a pile in a chair.

'Sorry,' you mumble in embarrassment.

She gives you an understanding smile. 'Trust me, darling, I've seen far worse where Dieter's involved.'

Rubbing your elbow awkwardly, you ask, 'So, you are...?'

'Rebecca,' she replies, extending her manicured hand to you. 'Dieter's agent.'

Her handshake is unsurprisingly firm. 'Oh, I thought Bernado was his agent.'

Rebecca smiles, which warms her blue eyes. 'I’m the big guns they bring out when Dieter gets in trouble. And you are?'

The sound of water tapers off and there's a slide of the shower door.

You clear your throat. 'Um... I'm the intimacy coordinator on the movie. And uh, this isn't what it looks like.'

Before Rebecca has a chance to reply, Dieter yells from the bathroom. 'Is the food here yet, sweetheart? I really need to eat first if you want to fuck. Preferably pancakes. Need some fast-acting glucose.'

You sigh in resignation, face in hand. Rebecca bites her lip, clearly amused by now.

Steam billows dramatically out of the bathroom when the door swings open, and Dieter emerges with a towel around his waist, his damp hair slicked back.

He doesn't look at all surprised to see his agent. If you have to wager a guess, she's clearly the only one who is able to keep any kind of a leash on him.

He ambles over to give her a kiss on the cheek. 'How did you find me, Becks?'

Rebecca tuts. 'Your phone's dead, and your poor driver was waiting outside all night. I'm here to deliver the message that the studio's booked you an STD test at 9am and then a sex therapy session at 10am. It's all part of the deal.'

Dieter groans, flopping onto his back on the mattress, arm flung over his eyes dramatically. 'What, so they think I'm some kind of fucking sexual deviant now?'

'Don't do the crime if you can't do the time,' chides Rebecca with a pat on his towel-covered thigh. 'I'll send a car at 8:30am, don't be late.' Turning to leave, she smiles at you. 'I'm sure I'll see you around, darling.'

The door closes, and you breathe heavily through your nose. 'Well, that was mortifying,' you deadpan, hands on hips.

Dieter props himself up on his elbows and wriggles his eyebrows at you. 'Wanna fuck?'

You glare at him, but it's half-hearted as you're distracted by the fact that you really like his hair pushed back like this. His face is all angular cheekbones and jawline this way. You have to consciously try to put up a fight.

You point at the door his agent just walked through. 'Bravo, that was the second rule broken before breakfast.'

Sitting up, he reaches for you and unties your robe, peeling it back to uncover your bare skin underneath. Pressing a wet kiss between your breasts, he stares up at you with dark eyes, his big hands finding your bare behind and squeezing. 'Come on sweetheart, it's no fun being a goody two shoes.'

Your pulse ticks up, and your head lolls back when he kisses up your neck, thick fingers finding your already wet folds. You let him tug you onto your knees on the bed to hover above his sitting form, pushing your robes off completely.

Beyond feigning any kind of pretence now, you tug off his towel to reveal his already hard cock. Rocking your hips, you rub against the ridge of him and tease, 'I thought you needed pancakes first.'

A deep rumble echoes in his chest, and he thrusts upwards to slide against you, hot lips suckling your tits one after the other. He murmurs against your skin, almost petulantly, 'Want your pussy now.'

You yelp in surprise when he wrestles you onto your back without warning. A whimper escapes you as his thumb finds your clit. You warn him, 'Don't think you can just fuck your way out of sticky situations, Bravo.'

He chuckles and pins you down with his broad frame, and he has the same answer for you as he did last night. 'We'll see about that, sweetheart.'

Neither of you hear room service arrive.

Week 5

It's Tuesday evening and you'd rather be catching up on Succession in bed with a glass of wine, but when one of the assistant directors of photography invited you to his impromptu birthday dinner, you couldn't say no and your plans for a quiet night in were dashed.

At least Pete is here. The pair of you are sat at the end of the table in case a quick escape is necessary, since neither of you really hang out with this particular group, and you suspect you were only invited to make up the numbers.

Wine is running low and the dessert menus are being handed around when your phone, sat on the table in front of you, buzzes with an incoming call.

DIERDRE CALLING

You press the decline button and continue pretending to listen to the conversation, when your phone buzzes again. This time, you turn off the vibration and let it ring out.

Then a barrage of eggplant and water splash emojis appears on your screen and your nostrils flare in annoyance. Pete peers at your phone with an eyebrow up.

'Who’s Dierdre?' he asks.

You sigh. 'My great aunt. Let me just make sure it's not a medical emergency.'

You excuse yourself from the table and call the number back.

He picks up on the first ring. 'Finally, sweetheart.'

You pinch the bridge of your nose. 'What do you want?'

'Need an excuse to get out of that dinner?'

You frown and your eyes dart suspiciously around you, confused. 'Are you stalking me?'

He scoffs. 'As if. Overheard the costumes girls talking about how you'll be at this boring last-minute birthday dinner tonight. I'll give you an out if you ask nicely.'

'I don't need you to do anything of the sort. I could get out of it if I wanted to.'

You can practically hear him rolling his eyes on the other side of the line. 'Please, sweetheart. You're a terrible liar.'

'No, I'm not,' you argue hotly.

'Just tell them I have an urgent issue with tomorrow's script and I need your help.'

You cross your arms. 'You just told me I'm a terrible liar, only to ask me to lie the next second?'

'It's a white lie, you can do it,' he says with a grunt.

You suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of skin sliding on skin on his end. 'What the fuck are you doing?'

'Warming up. If you don't get here in ten minutes, I’ll finish without you.'

Heat prickles under your skin. Unbidden, your imagination conjures up the image of him sprawled lazily in bed in his green robe, his ratty pajamas bottoms tugged down just enough for him to touch himself, while he talks to you on the phone. You ignore the urge to rub your thighs together, and instead, call his bluff. ‘Yeah, right. Now who’s a terrible liar?’

You try not to stutter when you haltingly make your excuses to the birthday boy, blaming your early exit on Dieter and something vague about the script, as he told you to. You hate that he's not wrong - you really are a sorry liar.

Pete gives you a knowing wink and elbows you in the ribs when you return to your seat to grab your coat. 'Have fun watering great aunt Dierdre's eggplants, babe.'

Week 6

Dieter Bravo is a fickle man.

When one is rich and famous with nothing to prove, especially so with an Oscar on the bookshelf, one can afford to be.

Dieter’s been around the block and then some. He's been engaged no less than four times, twice to the same woman. Countless girlfriends. He's never been with anyone who doesn’t want anyone else to know. If anything, the opposite has always been true.

He's never had a problem with women wanting their five minutes of fame - he only keeps them around for just that long anyway. He's also not the kind of guy who needs to be pressed to be affectionate. There are thousands of pap shots of him with his girlfriends of the moment, hand in hand, hand on waist, kissing and nuzzling. He enjoys intimacy and he's not afraid to be seen doing so.

Then you come along with your ground rules. This secrecy - the not being allowed to give anything away - is unexpectedly titillating.

It’s been two weeks since Sundance and he actually has put in an effort to be good. Knowing his tendencies for PDA, he really watches himself. His fingers twitch from restraint when you're near, and he deliberately looks away when you pass each other in the corridors.

You, on the other hand, seem to have it down pat.

In fact, you’re so unflappable that he sometimes sends you random filth to try throw you off. Mainly lowbrow shit with lots of eggplant and cat emojis. He'd watch you from across the room as the screen lights up your face. You would roll your eyes and when you find his, you would give him a stern look with a touch of contempt before carrying on with whatever you were doing.

Never in a million years would he have thought that you'd be the one to fuck up and nearly give it all away.

It's Thursday and the crew is on set, filming an intimate scene in bed. Dieter is braced above Brooke, both naked other than the nude underwear they're wearing. It's probably the most tender love scene in the whole script, and the relative tameness is coming off as a bit flat on camera compared with the more bombastic choreography filmed so far.

You're talking to Tobias and the director of photography, hovering and gesturing over the director's monitor.

Dieter eyes the uncharacteristically tight top you're wearing, cut low with buttons running down the front. He intercepted your laundry run last night by showing up at your door without notice, knocking the basket of dirty clothes from your hands and practically tackling you into bed, where he kept you all night.

You grumbled at him this morning for your lack of clean work clothes while he lounged in bed with an iced coffee from the mini bar, watching you dig deep into your suitcase for something wearable, with this particular blouse being the least revealing and crumpled of the lot.

His mind wanders as he schemes to thwart your laundry plans again tonight. He jumps when Brooke elbows him in the shoulder.

She gives him the side eye. 'What's up with you? You're so distracted today.'

Dieter pfffts in protest, maybe a bit exaggeratedly. 'No, I'm not. Just bored waiting around for the intimacy coordinator to come up with something for the scene.'

Right on cue, you turn around from the directors' huddle, clapping your hands to get the actors' attention.

'Alright folks, I think we cracked it,' you say excitedly, voice raised so they can hear you from across the set. 'Dieter, we need more elevation from you so we can let more light in on Brooke. We also need a bit more movement, so I was thinking, why don't you try that thing you did with your hips last night, and we'll see how it looks on camera.'

The hush that falls over the set lands delicately like first snow.

Dieter's had a lot of things thrown at him over his two and a half decades in the business - including a literal cat once while on Late Night. Very little fazes him.

Still, it's taking an enormous amount of willpower to keep his jaw locked so his fucking tongue doesn't roll out.

The look on your face would've been funny if he didn't think you having a heart attack was a real possibility in this moment.

So he comes to your rescue.

Dieter chuckles, cutting through the quiet, just a tad too loudly. 'You mean the hip thing that I did in the sex tape from 2011 that I showed you last night?'

It's not great. Improv has never been his forte, and you've put him on the spot.

But it works. The veil of silence lifts as the crew laughs good-naturedly, and you seem to unfreeze as what just happened obviously hits you. Being the trooper that you are, you bite your lip and you try your best to laugh with everyone else, and carry on.

Dieter grins to himself.

You're fucking adorable.

Week 7

The problem with having an agent who is practically family is that it's impossible for him to get out of anything.

Dieter tried throwing a tantrum. He tried begging. He tried to fire her.

Rebecca had laughed like he said something hilarious, handed him his suit for the evening, and told him to get ready for the limo at 7pm. She had the audacity to wink at him and pat him on the cheek. 'Enjoy, darling.'

So here he is on the red carpet of Samantha's Secret, with the starlet in the titular role on his arm. His sunglasses are on per usual, and he’s trying not to scowl too obviously at the cameras.

You'd been genuinely amused when he told you his plans for this particular Saturday night. You'd laughed loudly, 'The studio is basically pimping you out.'

It's part of what he calls his penance package for his fuck-up at Sundance. This C-list film (to be kind) is the pet project of the actress in the lead, one of the bigshot studio executives' daughter. She wanted Dieter to be her date for the evening - what baby wants, baby gets.

The worst part of all this? The whole cast and crew of Resurgence have also been invited to witness his humiliation. And you've been driving him to distraction from the moment you arrived some fifteen minutes ago.

Not that you're trying to. In fact, it's precisely because you are not trying. You haven't even looked in his direction since he spotted you. You're hard to miss tonight though, in a black sequin dress with long sleeves that hits just above your knees. You're hanging out with the makeup and hair girls, champagne in hand, obviously having a far better time than he is.

As his date for the evening steers him into the cinema proper, his chief makeup artist on the film yells his name and waves vigorously. 'Dieter! Come take a selfie with us, dude!'

Relieved for the diversion, he all but shakes off his date and strolls over to your group, tipping his sunglasses down his nose and grinning broadly. 'It would be my pleasure, ladies.'

While the girls fuss with their multiple cameras and argue about filters, Dieter discreetly makes his way to the back of the group to stand directly behind you.

'Hello, sweetheart,' he whispers into your ear. 'I like this dress on you.'

'Thanks. And your date is super cute,' you reply sarcastically, nodding towards the redhead who's rolling her eyes at him and tapping her foot impatiently.

'Play nice, sweetheart,' Dieter tuts, pausing to smile with teeth as the camera flashes. While your friends are distracted checking the selfies, he sneaks a hand into the space between you to casually squeeze your ass, and smirks at your outraged hiss. He counts it as win that you don't bat away his hand. He placates you, 'After all, you know who I'm going home with tonight.'

'We’ll see about that, Bravo,' you throw the now oft-used refrain over your shoulder, a challenge in your eyes, before being pulled away by your friends in between shouts of thanks Dieter!

The screening is in a fancy cinema with plush velvet sofas and mahogany side tables.

You know Dieter is sitting a couple of rows behind you. You saw him on his way in from the corner of your eye, with the starlet of the hour - a seriously dubious honour - on his arm.

The movie is, as expected, terrible. Not even terrible in a funny way, just plain terrible. But is it worth sitting through a two-hour long bad film when the champagne keeps magically topping itself up, as do the canapes and popcorn?

Hell yeah it is. Cheapest Saturday night out ever.

During a particularly dull lull in the film, you whisper to the girls that you're taking a bathroom break. You look straight ahead of you as you go up the stairs, but you feel his eyes on you anyway.

It's quiet outside, and no one is around when you exit the bathroom. Dieter is waiting for you at a doorway shielded by heavy velvet curtains, and you let him drag you impatiently into the dark space by your waist.

Once the curtains swish shut, the thick fabric brushing your bare back, you yank him in by the lapels of his smart suit and press a hard kiss to his lips, drawing a sound of surprise from him.

'Are there cameras in here?' you ask, pulling back. Dieter walks you further into the cloakroom, palming your ass, past racks of thick coats until he finds an unoccupied wall to push you up against.

'No, I checked,' he replies into the hollow of your neck and grabs your thigh, hooking it around his waist and grinds. He chokes on an inhale. ‘I’m so fucking hard for you, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip to stop yourself from groaning at the sweet pressure against your clit. You tease, ‘Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend to give you a handy in the dark while you watch her dreadful acting? Sounds like some weird kink you'd be into.’

His chuckle breaks off unsteadily as you reach down to run a finger along the outline of his already straining erection. ‘Shit, I like it when you’re jealous.’

You huff. ‘I wish I was. I would love to actually feel something during this awful movie.’

‘Please let me fuck you, baby. Can’t sit through another hour of the fucking film with you just there two rows away,’ begs Dieter as he rocks into your hand, his fingers finding their way underneath your dress now.

You grab his wandering hands and shake your head sternly. ‘Can’t. I borrowed this dress from the movie. Can’t get anything on it.’

Dieter whines into your ear, his breath hot on your skin. ‘I’ll pay for it. Please sweetheart, I’m gonna come in my fucking pants.’

‘Shhhh,’ you press your index finger to his lips, his desperation turning you on more than you care to admit. Dieter sucks on your digit, the cavern of his mouth molten hot. Grabbing him by his tie, you spin him round so he’s the one leaning on the wall, and you hold his gaze while your other hand finds his belt buckle.

His pupils are blown as you extract your finger from between his lips with a pop. The heels make it tricky, but you manage to get down on your knees as gracefully as you could, undoing his belt and unzipping his fly as you go.

You’ve been sleeping together for a good three weeks now, and you haven’t had the chance to do this just yet. He always beats you to it, burying his face between your thighs more often than not as soon as he gets you in his room - or your room, or on a couple of occasions, Supplies Closet 306 - and always thrusting into you while your cunt is still clenching from orgasm, as if he just can't hold back.

Releasing his hard cock from his boxers, you wrap your palm around him and stroke him firmly, smiling when he gasps. You tell him, ‘You'll have be quick about this, or people will notice we’re gone, ok?’

He nods wordlessly, his whole forehead wrinkling as if in great pain. He tucks his chin in to watch you close your lips over the tip of his cock, and his jaw goes slack as you let his length sink into your wet mouth.

Dieter groans low into the darkness, fingers weaving into your hair and his rings catching on stray strands as you go as far down as you can, filling your mouth so completely full with his thick cock.

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, the hinge of your jaw already aches from the pressure and you savour the sensation. He must have showered just before, the sweetness of soap clings to your tongue as you forego any teasing and instead, work up a brisk rhythm. One of your hands is braced on his strong thigh, flexing underneath your fingers as he twitches and jerks, and your other is fisting what you can’t fit into your mouth.

Dieter is mumbling incoherently above you, broken words between panting breaths seeping into your consciousness - fuck, sweetheart - that’s it - so fucking good - look at me, look at me while you take my cock -

When you do, he looks so far gone that you moan around him and a violent shudder rattles his entire body. He thrusts forward without warning, which makes you choke and spit floods your mouth.

‘Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me come,’ he blurts out, his head rolling back and hitting the wall with a loud thump.

You can’t quite tell if it’s a warning or a plea. So you open your mouth just a bit wider, and tears sting the corner of your eyes as he begins to fuck your mouth - shallowly, experimentally at first. Then deeper, harder, until you're whimpering around him.

You’re absolutely certain that no man has ever fucked your throat as deep as he is right now, and your cunt clenches on nothing when he loses it, his hold on your hair now bordering on painful, his body pulled completely taut.

This time, it’s definitely a warning as he chokes, the rhythm of his hips wavering. ‘I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop, sweetheart.’

You try to smile around him, but you can’t, his cock is so fucking big that there is no room for manoeuvre. So instead, you reach down and firmly cup his heavy sac. His hips jerk, the tip of his head nearly hitting the back of your throat, and with a broken growl, his cum fills your mouth with each erratic thrust. You swallow thickly - once, twice - before he stills and crumples against the wall.

His grip in your hair finally lets up, and reaching down for your hands, he pulls you up on shaky knees, his lips crashing onto your swollen ones, a moan caught deep in his throat.

Then he pulls back and sighs, soft eyes on you while he wipes the glossy spit off your bottom lip. ‘Thank you.’

'And that’s how it’s done,' you reply a bit too smugly. The thinly veiled dig at the Sundance incidence doesn't go over his head.

He pulls up his trousers and gives you a lopsided grin, before pulling you in for another kiss, his rough palms splayed on your lower back. 'There's that smart fucking mouth.'

Hands on his chest, you try to push him off, but he doesn't let you, easily overpowering you. Instead, he traces the outline of your jaw with his nose until his breathing evens out.

You protest, ‘We have to get back, we've been gone too long. You're lucky if your date hasn't sent out a search party.'

Ignoring you, Dieter pulls out a key card from his back pocket. 'Come back to mine tonight.'

'I can’t. We’re going partying after this, it'll be too late to do anything,' you argue.

He shrugs carelessly. 'I don't give a fuck. Come after the party.'

You don't give him an answer. Instead, you tease, 'But are you sure you haven’t been pimped out for the whole night?'

With a grumble, he delivers a sharp slap to your backside that makes you squeak indignantly, and he presses the card into your palm before pushing you towards the exit. 'Off you go, sweetheart. I'll wait up for you.'

It's past 3am. You really shouldn't. You don't even have a spare change of clothes or makeup remover wipes. There’s nothing but a very embarrassing walk of shame and a hangover awaiting you a few hours down the line.

But somehow, you still key in his hotel address when you call your Uber.

And somehow, you're in the hotel elevator going all the way up to the penthouse.

You've been to his room enough to know your way around in the relative darkness. It's easily five times as big as yours, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city lights, now veiled by sheer curtains drawn closed.

The only source of light in the room is the bedside lamp on the nightstand, messy as usual, covered with his rings, reading glasses, scripts and a tall glass of water. One thing you've learned about him these past weeks is that he’s a stickler for hydrating, if not anything else.

Dieter is sleeping on his stomach, elbows bent and both hands buried underneath his pillow. His bare back rises and falls with his breathing, and he's snoring gently.

He's usually a heavy sleeper, but tonight, he wakes up when you crawl in on the other side of the king-sized bed.

'What time is it?' he yawns and pulls back the duvet for you to shuffle into the cocoon.

'Almost four,' you answer, settling onto your back, and you sigh when your head sinks into the plush pillows. They are so much more comfortable than the ones in your room. You might actually steal a couple for yourself.

Dieter shifts so he's on his side to wrap one arm around your waist, nuzzling the underside of your neck as he breathes out through his nose. 'Did you have fun with the girls?'

'Who said there were any girls there?'

A giggle escapes you when he bites out a grunt at your insolence and pulls you tight against him, his breath fanning your ear. Neither of you makes any excuses about fucking the next morning - you don't remember when you stopped, or who stopped first, to be honest.

Dieter reaches behind him to switch off the lamp. He presses a kiss to where your jawbone meets your ear and worms one arm under you, so that you can snuggle right up against him, resting your cheek on his chest.

Your eyes take a while to adjust to the darkness. You blink until you see the outline of his arm, slung over you. You stare at the black triangle tattoo near the crease of his elbow for a while as your mind buzzes with something that has been weighing on you. Something which, after too many glasses of free champagne followed by overpriced cocktails, can no longer be put off.

You find yourself whispering into the stillness. 'My ex proposed to me at Sundance, four years ago. Then he broke up with me a year later. Also at Sundance.'

You're probably half-hoping he's asleep, so that you can get it off your chest without him ever knowing it. You don't owe him an explanation, and he never asked. You hear silence as he holds his breath.

The arm under you curls you closer into him, and he asks, lips brushing your temple and beard tickling your ear. 'Want me to ruin his career? Or break his legs?'

You close your eyes and smile. 'I think he's already done the career ruining on his own.'

He waits a beat, then clarifies, 'So… just break his legs then?'

Your whole body shakes with laughter, and you feel him grin against the side of your neck, his arms anchoring you to his warmth as you fall into a deep sleep.

Dieter’s used to you waking up on the furthest opposite side of the bed. Your sleeping habits seem to imitate your constant need keep him at arm’s length in real life.

Which is why he’s confused that you’re spooning him, your arms tied loosely around his middle, a semi-dried patch of drool on his shoulder.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the little spoon. Especially with your soft, naked tits pressed up against his back. His cock twitches when you shift in your sleep, your nipples drawing patterns on his skin.

The room is awash with late-morning sun. He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. ‘Morning, sweetheart.’

You grumble sleepily, burying your face into his shoulder. ‘Oh god, I can't open my eyes. The mascara's stuck them together.’

Dieter rolls over and catches a glimpse of black smudges on your eyes when you're too slow to hide behind your hands. He grins, ‘For what it's worth, I think you look sexy.’

‘Shut up,’ you whine and bury your face into the pillow. ‘I look like a panda.’

He chuckles and jokes. ‘I can work with that. I’ll just have to fuck you from behind then.’

He doesn’t expect you to moan at that. It goes straight to his cock.

Pressing a half-kiss to your shoulder, his voice drops an octave when he asks, ‘I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart. Did you want something?’

You still refuse to look at him, if anything, you burrow deeper into the pillow, but your needy whimper is unmistakable. Dieter unwraps you slowly, finding you completely naked under the duvet.

You thrum with tension when he runs a calloused hand down the dip of your back, and he climbs over you, holding his weight while he laves your neck with his tongue.

His hands squeeze your ass cheeks together as he slides his erection between the plump flesh. He croons in your ear, ‘You want me to bend you over and pound that pussy from behind?’

You make a choking noise and roll your hips backwards against him. ‘Fuck, yes please.’

'Since you asked so nicely,' he hums and nudges your thighs slightly apart to ease a finger into you. His chest reverberates with a deep sound at what he finds. ‘So wet already, sweetheart.’

You writhe shamelessly under him while he fingers you, the slick sounds of your pussy stretching around his one thick finger, and then two, getting you wetter each time he pumps into you right up to the knuckle.

He takes his sweet time, nipping and licking every part of you he can reach until you gripe at him. ‘Dieter.’

You gasp when he smacks you on your ass, and his cock lurches at the slippery gush around his fingers. He purrs by your ear, ‘Be a good girl and get a condom from the top drawer for me.'

You don’t move for a long moment. So long that he hesitates and is about to pull back, before he hears your tentative question. ‘Did you - did you pass that STD test?’

He only realises he’s stopped moving when you moan and move against him, searching for friction.

Dieter swallows, but his answer still comes out in a mangled stutter. ‘Yeah - yeah I did, sweetheart.’

You look back at him over your shoulder, all smeared eyeliner and mascara, biting your plump bottom lip. ‘I've been tested too if you want to - you know.’

Before his brain can catch up, he’s already flipped you on your back, his hands tight around your wrists. He rasps against your lips. ‘If I want to - what?’

You worry your bottom lip prettily. He's getting fucking light headed with you looking up at him like this. ‘We don't have to use a condom. I’m on the pill too - ’

You’ve barely gotten your last word out before Dieter lunges at you with a bruising kiss, draping his whole body atop yours until you feel his cock nudge against your cunt.

‘Don’t hold it against me if I don’t last,’ he moans into your collar bone, biting down sharply as he pushes your right thigh up and back against the bed, opening you up for him.

Impatiently, you reach down to wrap your hand around him and guide his head right against your sopping entrance. ‘I don't care. Just fuck me, Bravo.’

The scrape of your back against the mattress burns as Dieter sheathes himself inside you in one hard thrust, shoving you up the bed. The burn in your cunt is something else - the stretch is perfect and he feels completely different - fucking amazing - with nothing in between.

He looks down at you with stormy eyes, brows knitted tightly together, braced on his elbows on either side of your head as you watch him, your lips parted in a silent O.

‘Goddamn, you feel - ’ he breaks off in a feral growl when you lift your hips to slide him in just a bit deeper. ‘ - Fuck!’

And that’s all it takes to break Dieter Bravo.

He doesn’t hear your throaty cries as he fucks deep into you, or the wet slap of skin on skin as your bodies collide. There's no finesse to his movements, only a sloppy, raw heat building between you two.

He’s never been a multi-tasker. It’s one of the reasons he’s a great actor - when he’s in the moment, he’s in it. And right now, the one thing he can focus on is the incredible wet grip of your cunt on his naked cock. He’s struggling to do anything other fucking you. One stroke at a time.

His body is playing catch up with his mind. His eyes fixate on your lips, but it takes him two beats before he leans in to smear a messy kiss on you. He catches sight of your tits, but he only reaches out to grab one clumsily after watching them bounce back and forth for what seems like long minutes.

Then he props himself up higher and drops his gaze to watch your cunt stretch and swallow his cock. It’s completely covered in your slick when he pulls out almost all the way, before shoving it back inside you so hard that he actually hears you shriek this time.

As if propelled into action, he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, eyes sliding up to your face. Your hair is stuck to beads of sweat on your forehead and neck, eyes glazed over, and he knows that in this moment, your body is completely his.

‘I’m gonna come,’ you pant, sheets twisting under your fingers as you desperately try to hold on to something as you spiral. ‘Dieter, I’m gonna come - ’

He pushes into you harder as your cunt begins to clench and squeeze around him. He bares his teeth and literally digs his heels in. ‘Yeah, sweetheart? Go on then, come around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel, baby.’

You thrash under him - there is no other way to describe it - and with a wail you break apart under him, your pussy squelching around him in a stranglehold as he continues to drive into you.

‘So fucking beautiful,’ he snarls. He doesn't know where to look - the curve of your neck as you tilt your head back to gasp for breath, or the glaze of your cum running down your thighs, or the expanse of your soft, heated skin in between. ‘This pussy is all for me. Isn’t it?’

You nod frantically at his demand and he exhales raggedly, pushing himself up to sit back on his haunches. Hands on your upper thighs, he holds you obscenely wide to watch his thick cock disappear between the lips of your cunt. Slowly, almost carefully, before he picks up the pace again until he has you arching your back and keening at the depth that he’s hitting. He groans and his eyes clench shut, hips stuttering as he reaches the end of his tether.

He looks up at you, jaw hanging open and asks, ‘Where do you want me, sweetheart?’

‘Inside,’ you plead, with no hesitation. ‘Fill me up, please.’

‘I’ll fucking fill you up. I'll fuck your tight little pussy full of my cum,’ he rants and pins your knees all the way back to your shoulders, driving your hips forward so he can plough into you. ‘Take all of it, take all of me -’

You feel him before you hear him. His cock seems to swell impossibly inside you before he roars, head thrown back and the vein in his neck throbbing as he fills your cunt with thrust after thrust of hot cum, his rings biting into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs as he empties himself into you.

Bonelessly, he falls onto you, his weight crushing you to the mattress. He buries his face in your chest, almost wheezing as he struggles to catch his breath. You feel his softening cock slide out of you, cum leaking messily down your inner thighs, making you shudder. You don't mind though, and you absent-mindedly run your fingers through his thick curls.

Dieter slowly comes back to himself. He sluggishly nuzzles your tits, tasting the salt in between them. Rubbing his sweaty forehead against your neck, he feels the sticky peel of flesh as he moves off of you, only to pull you flush against him, back to his front, sweat sealing your skin together while he presses kisses to your shoulder as the high passes, and a deep calm settles into his bones.

His confession is whispered against your ear. ‘I haven't done that in years.’

You tangle your fingers in his and hold his hand against your stomach, relishing in the solid weight of him around your ravaged body. You don't hesitate when you reply, ‘Me neither.’

Dieter lets your two-worded, almost offhand admittance wash over him, and his chest swells with possessive pride. For the first time since this started three weeks ago - seven since that day in Supplies Closet 306 - you lower your hackles just long enough for him to take a peek in, twice. After a night of hard drinking and sleep deprivation, but still.

He'll take it. He'll take whatever you deign to throw at his feet.

Chin on your shoulder, he watches your thumb draw circles on his knuckles, your me neither ringing in his ears. He can't help but wonder if your moronic ex-fiancé was the last man to have been granted the privilege, and he holds you just a bit tighter.

Your pliant weight goes slack in his arms as you nod off. He gets comfortable behind you - he doesn't need to be anywhere today and he can do with a bit more shuteye, especially with you around.

He's pressing a closed-mouth kiss to your temple, his eyes tracing the contours of your face under heavy lids, when the realisation rudely sets in.

He's in so much fucking trouble.

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 6: Confute >> }

Note: So... this chapter turned out far fluffier than I ever intended any part of this series to be when I first started Consent. Probably the fluffiest anything I've ever written... and I kinda... liked it?? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Please be gentle with me, I'm feeling vulnerable after this little break away from writing - I really hope this part didn't disappoint. Reblogs and comments would be very appreciated as always!

As much as I hate admitting it - we are nearing the end of the series, or at least, this particular series in this universe 🥺 I have a rough outline drafted, but I will be taking my time and make sure Consent gets the conclusion it deserves!

Thank you my wonderful readers for sticking with me throughout this break, and for patiently enduring my many random Dieter posts over the past weeks. I'm so happy to be back in my writing headspace with Dieter 😘

#dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #cliff beasts 6 #dieter bravo self insert #consent series

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moe-broey · 4 months

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It is extremely difficult to design modern outfits for Alfonse though idk what it is. Sharena will look good in anything from flannel docs lesbian outfit to cute overalls to something sporty to high femme dresses (tbh I still wanna draw her in one of my fave old dresses ..) but Alfonse. There are def a few routes you can take keeping his character/personality in mind and I think they look good/are super cute and make sense but like... esp for me personally, thinking of the v specific way I draw/stylize him...

AH. MAYBE. MAYBE I FIGURED IT OUT BC I HAVE NO PROBLEM DESIGNING OUTFITS FOR HIM IN FEH CONTEXT...... it's cause that bitch is always wearing tights and long shirts that (esp depending on how you draw it) border on being dress-like to straight up robes/skirt-like garments WHICH makes sense for him in universe bc that's p standard wear for men in Askr, in the Order of Heroes specifically. Like

Seliph's resplendent stands out to me as a huge example of this, and you can kinda see it in Corrin's too! Though I do think resplendents often take a lot from the chara's base outfit (both standard and resplendent Seliph having tunics, both Corrins having leggings ect). But speaking of Corrin, espp the lengthening of that bit of fabric at Corrin's hip, looks a lot like Gustav's garments!

Who may be a better measure for men's dress in Askr (normal attire, for a king anyway, and a cultural festival outfit). But I do also think you can glean some details off of resplendent designs too!

Also actually.

This Day of the Life comic that acknowledged Sharena's absence from the DoD banner (BITE BITE KILL KILL SO MUCH HATRED IN THE WORLD‼️‼️‼️) implies that their outfits may have been identical, just in their respective signature colors (blue and pink). And even looking at Alfonse and Sharena's base art, they have a lot in common!

And looking at Seliph and Corrin again, the puffy sleeves seen on Sharena and Henriette aren't necessarily gendered traits. ACTUALLY.... GUSTAV HAS THEM TOO! Alfonse's outfit is an outlier sleeve design wise!

Which is to say, there aren't actually a lot of strict gender differences in attire here. A lot of the clothing looks/feels androgynous esp when viewed through a modern lense (like I'm sure there's a lot of real-world historical inspo that goes into the designs, I just know fuck all about that LMFAO 😅). And esppp the way I've come to draw Alfonse a lot, I do emphasize what reads as femme -- giving him longer shirts, simplifying the strappy armor on his thighs into. Over the knee socks. Over the leggings/tights. 🫣 And that's not even getting into the knee high boots and heels!!!!

WHICH IS. Actually SO FUCKING DIFFICULT. To translate into modern fashion esp typical standard men's fashion, in a way that still feels true to him as well... bc I do believe in femme/androgynous Alfonse supremacy 😤 But he is ALSO. SO IMPORTANTLY. He is VERY MUCH just some guy who is heavily defined by the role he's been put in. Which is also kind of difficult to sort out, what Would he wear, if the standards were completely different and also if he was choosing for himself?

SINCE. I'M CERTAIN idk if I wanna dig for it but -- I'm CERTAIN all his outfits have been picked For him to some degree. The Order of Heroes outfit is a uniform, the bunny outfit is implied/stated to be picked by Sharena. The yukatas in their duo are 1) Hoshidan and 2) I think Anna was the one who picked them? Might be wrong on that, but I do feel like there's a castle dialogue about it. And of course, the DoD outfits are implied to be cultural Askran wear, and going back to that comic -- it seems neither Alfonse OR Sharena have much of a say in what it looks like (her being uncomfortable "showing that much leg" -- that, if given a choice, she may have wanted something more modest).

So like. There is. So much going on here actually.

#fire emblem #sorry for being autistic about alfonse fire emblem. it will happen again. and again. and againm and again and #I WILL SAY ONE THING! it actually is SO much easier to design pokemon universe outfits for him than strictly any modern outfit #the men are allowed to be cuntier in pokemon world. i can put him in white tight pants and boots and a sweater #and no one would bat an eye.#i think i do gravitate towards sweaters for him... maybe turtlenecks.... still it is so difficult.#the funniest thing you can do w modern alfonse though is put him in a hoodie and make him slightly disheveled #and make it SO FUCKING CLEAR. that he is severely distraught and depressed that his boyfriend dumped him #and his boycrush isn't speaking to him.#literally just make him a dramatic depressed faggot <- (SAID W LOVE AS A TRANSFAG MYSELF.)#BUT ALSO. EVEN THOUGH that's said all cheeky like. i think for me it is also so important to put queer elements in him too #like he NEEDS to be giving queer man raised in a strict gender-norm heavy environment #who's like. comfortable in his queerness at this point but by god. did i have to go through all of that. dear lord.#anwyays i'm insane about him. don't worry about it 👍#fe alfonse

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whatacaitastrophe · 2 months

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Kirnha x Gortash - For EdiSlendering

Song Inspo: “You Only Live Once” - The Strokes

A one-shot I did for EdiSlendering (it won't let me tag you!) <3 Thanks for requesting this! I had a great time writing it, and thank you for your donation to my Ko-fi!

Would you like me to write a BG3 one shot for you? Check out this post and send me a message <3

TW: mentions of murder, torture

“I do not understand why you insist on inviting the entirety of high society to our home once every fortnight. Is it truly necessary?” Kirnha complained as he stood in front of a mirror in their bathroom, buttoning the doublet that Gortash picked out for him. He would give his partner this: the man had taste. The blood red and silver were striking against Kirnha’s skin, the red was especially appreciated by the tiefling– an ode to what he was and who he served. Though as nice as he looked, that didn’t mean he wanted to dress up, or entertain the masses.

“You already know the answer to that question, dearest,” Gortash hummed with amusement as he preened next to Kirnha, the double vanity and wide mirror an absolute blessing on evenings like this. “There are appearances to keep, people to remind who they serve, the usual.”

“We can’t do that in private meetings?” Kirnha argued.

“Not if we want to remind the rest of the realm to stay in line,” Gortash turned to look at Kirnha. He grabbed the tiefling’s arm firmly, turning Kirnha so he was looking at Gortash. A devilish smirk appeared on Gortash’s face as he swatted Kirnha’s hand away so he could finish buttoning the doublet himself. “Besides, keeping up appearances means seeing you in this delicious ensemble, and that I get to take it off later.”

A forced smile spread across Kirnha’s lips and he placed his hands over top of Gortash’s on his chest, tilting his head to the side as he spoke. “So cancel the party and take it off of me now.”

“Now, now, my little assassin, don’t be petulant.” His lover scolded, and immediately Kirnha’s resolve to get out of attending the party melted away. Damn him, damn Enver Gortash for knowing exactly what to say to make Kirnha putty in his hands. Kirnha could honestly kill him for it. When Kirnha came up with their little plan to take over Baldur’s Gate, he hadn’t intended to develop feelings for Gortash in the process, but here they were. Initially, Kirnha’s plan had been to kill Gortash and Thorm at the earliest convenient moment. Kirnha had planned to play nice with the half-dead chosen of Myrkul and the smarmy, charming chosen of Bane because he needed them for the plan to succeed, but the moment those foolhearted adventurers defeated Ketheric Thorm, everything shifted.

Gortash shifted, and boy, was it easy for the man to get Kirnha to agree to something when his mouth was wrapped around Kirnha’s cock. Despite himself, despite all his plans and visions of the future, Kirnha realized that ruling Baldur’s Gate alongside Enver Gortash would be more beneficial in the long run than doing it alone. Despite himself, he fell in love– rather, whatever feelings Kirnha had for Gortash that felt like what he assumed was love.

“You love it when I’m petulant, though.” Kirnha countered with a smirk, and he leaned forward to capture Enver’s mouth in a conquering kiss, not bothering to be gentle as he bit down on his lover’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Gortash moaned softly as Kirnha licked the blood from his mouth, but he pushed Kirnha away all the same.

“Our guests are waiting.” Gortash reminded him as he turned to look at his reflection in the mirror one last time before exiting the room. Kirnha sighed, and silently prayed to Bhaal that this evening would go by swiftly.

An hour later, Kirnha was sitting on his throne in the banquet hall swirling wine in his goblet as he watched his partner dance with another aristocrat with a scowl on his face. “You play the part of an unapproachable bastard very well, friend.” Minthara observed as she sat on the arm of his chair, an amused look on her face as Kirnha offered her a smirk. If anyone else attempted to sit where Minthara currently sat, Kirnha would have slit their throat. Luckily for the drow female, she could claim to be one of the only people in this godforsaken world that Kirnha actually tolerated, so he allowed it, glaring at anyone who looked their way, silently daring them to be as bold as Minthara.

“I’m just playing my part,” He replied drily. “They’re not here to talk to me anyway– I’m the scary one.”

“Yes, you do have that frightening look of power about you, so I can see why you might think weaker beings would think so.” Minthara mused, sipping from her own goblet of wine.

“Oh, I’m not assuming– I literally overheard someone call me ‘the scary one’ once,” The smirk on his face spread into a devious smile as he said the words, very pleased with the reputation he’d cultivated for himself. “Needless to say I took it upon myself to prove them correct.” Kirnha could still hear the glorious screams of the half-elf as Kirnha flayed him within an inch of his life deep in the dungeons of Wyrm’s Rock. No, he did not mind being “the scary one” at all. Especially if it meant people avoided him at parties he didn’t particularly want to be at anyway. Kirnha had always been the observer of the two of them: the brawn to Gortash's brains, if you will. This was not to say Kirnha was unintelligent; he was just more physically adept than his lover, just as Gortash could claim to be better at manipulating people with words.

As the song ended, Kirnha finished the contents of his goblet. He watched as another aristocrat approached Gortash, vying for a dance. Little did they know they were not going to get their wish. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Minthara.” Kirnha offered as he stood to depart with a predatory look on his face. Minthara smirked. “You as well, Infamy.”

Infamy. The name Kirnha had gone by to the public for many years now, rather appropriate given the rumors that swirled regarding who his father was, what god he served. The first person who’d ever snorted with laughter after Kirnha introduced himself using the nom de plume was no longer among the living, thus sealing the (no pun intended) infamy surrounding it altogether. Minthara was one of the few who Kirnha allowed to address him by his birthname, but the drow paladin was smart enough not to do so in public, knowing it was not worth it to risk Kirnha’s ire.

As he strode towards Gortash, the aristocrat occupying his attention went wide-eyed, failing to keep their face neutral. The “scary one” indeed, Kirnha thought to himself as he approached, a wicked grin on his face behind Gortash’s back. When he reached them, Kirnha wrapped his arms around Gortash’s middle and kissed his neck before obscenely licking a stripe up the column of his lover’s neck to his ear. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” He declared in a low voice.

The aristocrat quickly bid them goodbye after that, and Kirnha smirked. Gortash turned around in Kirnha’s embrace and gave him a wry look. “Oh please, you were watching me from your seat, you knew exactly where I was.” Gortash gripped Kirnha’s jaw with his thumb and forefinger and pulled the tiefling towards him for a kiss that could honestly only be described as “lewd.” They were always like this in public: overly affectionate, not particularly bothered by who saw their displays of affection. For Kirnha, it was almost a challenge, to see how much he could get away with before onlookers could no longer hide their disapproval. Not that anyone ever said anything to the pair. They knew better. The next song began and Kirnha started moving to the rhythm of the waltz, keeping Gortash in his arms.

“How much longer do we need to remain at this godforsaken party?” Kirnha muttered against his lover’s lips, nipping the spot he’d made bleed earlier with his teeth.

“It’s our party.” Gortash chuckled, raking his hands over Kirnha’s chest, teasing him by the buttons on Kirnha’s doublet that he’d promised to undo later.

Kirnha nudged Gortash’s head with his horn to tilt it to the side and kissed his lover’s neck again. “Who cares? We’ve been seen. They know where the door is to find their way out.” He bit down on the skin of Gortash’s neck, hard enough that it would bruise, but not enough to break his flesh. No, that was reserved for later.

“What if I just took you right here? With everyone watching?” Kirnha murmured against Gortash’s skin. Gortash moaned softly. “Or what if I took you over to that weapon supply room over there, and bent you over against the wall? Would I have to cover your mouth since we both know you can’t keep quiet?”

Gortash shifted against Kirnha’s touch, and he could feel his lover’s cock twitch with interest at the idea. “You are truly testing my patience today, you devil.” Gortash cooed disapprovingly, and Kirnha couldn’t help but be pleased by the fact that he knew he was winning, if not simply for any other reason than his partner could do nothing other than dance with him, because if Gortash walked away, the whole room would see the evidence of his arousal.

“And you began testing mine the moment you informed me that my attendance today was required,” Kirnha cooed back as he pulled away from Gortash’s neck to give him a wicked look. “Seems only fitting I get to spend the rest of it telling you all the things I’d prefer to be doing.”

He was goading his lover, Kirnha knew that. There wasn’t much that brought him greater joy than teasing Gortash and pushing him to his limit in public. Moreover, by the way the light shifted in Gortash’s eyes, it was working. Kirnha would get his way sooner rather than later. Gortash raised an eyebrow. “And who is to say there aren’t things I’d rather be doing? Just because I enjoy these events does not mean I wouldn’t rather be upstairs, tying you to our bed and punishing you for being so disagreeable today.”

A thrill shot through Kirnha’s body and he offered Bane’s chosen a smug look. Yes, the goading was definitely working. Their dynamic in the bedroom was a constant power struggle. Sometimes Kirnha was in control, holding all of the cards as Gortash writhed beneath him. Other times, Gortash had Kirnha begging and threatening him with bodily harm if Gortash didn’t stop teasing and just fucking touch him. It was too soon to tell what kind of night that tonight would be, but Kirnha didn’t particularly care, so long as their night began (and this party ended) soon.

“I’d love to see you try.” Kirnha dared, kissing Gortash again and his hands slid from the man’s waist to his backside, gripping it possessively. The sound Gortash made was somewhere between a moan and a growl and he pulled back to press his forehead against Kirnha’s. “I’m sure you would.”

The next song ended, and without warning, Gortash released himself from Kirnha’s embrace with a sly grin. Kirnha glared at him. “I have a few more rounds to do, so you’re going to need to be a good boy and be patient.”

Image be damned, Kirnha no longer wished to be at this party any longer, and if Gortash was so determined to drag this out, then Kirnha would absolutely make it more difficult on him. “Fine. I’m going upstairs. Perhaps I’ll start without you,” He suggested with a head tilt as he looked at his lover thoughtfully. “Enjoy your rounds.”

With that, Kirnha turned on his heel and headed for the door that led back to their private quarters. On the way, he made eye contact with Minthara, who smirked at him and shook her head with amusement as he disappeared through the door.

Once back in their bedroom, Kirnha did not change out of his finery right away. Instead, he went to their bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard with his hands behind his head expectantly. Five minutes later, Gortash burst through the door with a wild look in his eyes as he took in the sight of Kirnha laying on their bed, still dressed. “I thought you were starting without me?”

Kirnha offered him a wicked grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #the dark urge #bg3 durge #durgetash #enver gortash #bg3 fanfic

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arueternity · 1 year

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Unofficial Sleep Token Headcanon/Lore

A guide to AruEternity's Vessels

Hello lovies, I am taking inspo from one of my friends here. Everyone has their own versions of the vessels and their own ocs, I just would like to share mine with yall! So everything you read here is ALL HEADCANONS!! Please keep that in mind during this. I will be using names that I hope and pray aren’t the actual vessels' names, (I will cry if it is and most likely change them.) But again this is just how I see my boys; none of this is solid or finished yet. Little lore overview, none of the vessels are human anymore due to their past and their meeting with Sleep. Sleep in this version is a rouge god who typically follows the idea of having angels under him/to help him. He can change people and remake them similarly to how he is doing with the vessels. If Sleep were to go without a vessel or a connection to a vessel for a long period of time he becomes weak and slowly dies. It is the idea that for a god to live, they need followers. All the vessels change in their own ways and are molded by Sleep to fit what he wants out of them. He can reset the timeline if he deems the vessels to be defective/not up to standard. The timeline so far has been reset roughly 100 times, the only ones with active memory of this is Sleep and his angels.

TW: Sexual themes, SA, Drug-use, Major character death, OD, Depression, Minor character death, suicidal ideation, if I've missed any please let me know!

Vessel

Name - Elliot Burns

Age - 28

Height - 6’2

Personality -

Spreactic and almost loving aggressive. His devotion to Sleep distracts him often so he is normally seen as quiet and or loving to the others. While he doesn’t like being alone he is okay with it sometimes… Other times it brings up the anxious part of himself. Super affectionate and loving but in a “please don’t notice” way. Becomes slightly violent when things are no longer in his control/he cannot understand them/

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s main vessel, the one who he always turns to. Elliot was the first real worshipper of Sleep gaining him a strong connection to the deity. Their relationship is a toxic “I cannot live without you” type.

Transformation -

3 total sets of eyes are similarly placed where his mask is, all glowing with soft white light. The bottom half of his face is skinned leaving his teeth exposed. As for his teeth, his K9s go down past his bottom lip and are extremely sharp. Emits a gentle black smoke from his mouth and body. Giant split down the middle of his chest, breastbone to belly button, this is where a closed human eye sits and never opens.

Mini backstory - Very short

Elliot was an obsessive lover, going out of his way to make anything come true for his girlfriend of the time. They had been together for a while before she started to pull away slowly. This caused an extreme fight with them and a car crash that injured his lover. Shortly after they ended up breaking up due to her blaming him for everything and finally coming clean she didn’t love him for him. Elliot in a fit of anger began to search for ways to get her back and to make her love him. Unfortunately, nothing worked, not even the magic research he did. That was until one-night Sleep came to him in a dream and guided him to someone who could guide him to him.

Name - Silas Palmer

Age - 24

Height - 5’6

Personality

The calmest out of all the vessels. Seems always to be sitting alone trying to draw and or get high. He doesn’t personally care for the drama but is the one everyone comes to when there is something going wrong. Very “wise” and helps guide others. Silas does have a Playboy vibe and will act on it on rare occasions.

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s second most trusted vessel. However, their relationship is strained due to the forcefulness of Silas’ connecting/bonding with Sleep. Silas has forgiven Sleep after years of struggling with the aftermath, seeing the pack as the only ones he needs due to their willingness to accept his gender identity.

Transformation -

Skinned mouth starting from just behind his teeth. Stretch marks from the stress of the mouth going closer into/near his eyes. A sewed shut-eye in the middle of his forehead that softly glows and moves behind the lid. Smaller cuts/scars scattering his body where eyes would grow if needed. Many of the scars are from fights with the other vessels.

Mini backstory -

Growing up in the incorrect body had caused him many issues with friends and family. Many did not understand or chose to understand how Silas was feeling. It was a constant struggle throughout high school and college. Eventually, he was able to save up enough money by working himself exhausted to get top surgery. While being the happiest moment in his life so far, he was no longer in contact with his old friends or family. Silas was disowned for finally achieving his dream. Slowly he turned to alcohol to ease the pain of being alone. Eventually, he was able to meet someone who he thought would love him for him. Unfortunately, the relationship turned abusive after Silas was unable to quit drinking. His girlfriend pushed him away after hitting him many times over again.

III

Name - (Finn)egan Ridge

Age - 23

Height - 6’4

Personality -

The fun-loving chaos-causing type of person. He loves to play jokes and is always hyper no matter what. He does have moments when he is calm but most of the time he isn’t. Loves to do things he thinks others will laugh at.

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s third vessel. Sleep sees him as an entertaining person who gains the attention of many people. While this can be fun at times, he does also punish him often when he is “annoying.” Believes III needs to be safe but also wants to hurt him by influencing the others.

Transformation -

Asides from the deep ashy black that covers most of his chest and back, he is etched with the language of Sleep. His body being covered by some stories told by Sleep. The language mostly covers his arms and legs, while he does also have thick lettering wrapping around his wrist. At the base of his neck/collarbone and his lower back, there is a small area where a possible eye could form.

Mini backstory -

Was the miracle baby that his family had always wanted. Ended up doing everything for them and tried his best. After going into college he learned it wasn’t for him so his grades started to slip and he fell into using heavy drugs. Slowly he turned into the college drug dealer which got him kicked out. His family had still sent him money because he never told them. Eventually after becoming very popular in his dealings, he was able to gain a lot of money. With this money, he bought and used drugs alongside buying prostitutes for himself. After hiring the wrong person, they forced him to attempt to OD, he was turned into a prostitute himself after “saving his life” Here he met someone he deemed ‘‘Sugar” and enjoyed the buyer's company. Sadly the pimp he worked for did not like this and killed Finn in front of Sugar.

Name - Felix Payne

Age - 27

Height - 6’0

Personality -

He is seen as aggressive and quiet. Felix is mostly angry at himself rather than others, making him quiet and always anxious. He fears that one day he’ll up and leave like his father did again. Felix is anxiously attached to everyone but refuses to let them in. Though he can be loving at times he holds those close for the fear of losing the moment.

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s 4th vessel. He sees him similarly as Elliot, with a strong connection even though he is not the strongest vessel. Sleep pities the boy so he picks him to use whenever he is feeling especially angry. Which in turn has turned Felix into an even more angry person.

Transformation -

Has gold and red bands inked into his body that circles his wrist, fingers, ankles, thighs, and neck. They are technically not tattoos just an add-on to the already deep ashy black that they are all changing to. While he doesn’t have eyes on his body, he does have a moon shape (the moon logo) under his chin/jaw area. As a punishment or if Sleep is feeling it, the golden bands on his neck slowly turn into a thorn crown that rests on his eyes. It rarely happens since he tries not to upset Sleep.

Mini backstory -

Had a mostly good life besides having to deal with a dad who left and came back 24/7. He was forced into playing the perfect family, this later turned into his own form of trauma and learning. Once he was older he got a good-paying job that had long hours and split an apartment with a college student. Didn’t mind paying for everything. He ends up lashing out at all of his friends and is diagnosed with severe anxiety, depression, and some anger issues, all similar to his father. Eventually, one day he decides to leave after he can no longer handle the stress of himself, this is where he meets Vessel after wandering for hours.

Name - Kieran Wiggs

Age - 26

Height - 5’11

Personality -

A goofy unhinged boy. He is extremely loving in all the wrong ways. Kieran is passionate but loses motivation extremely quickly. He relies on the others to help him during his rough moments. If he were to become too angry he relapses into a rage episode and attempts to harm or kill the other vessels. Unhinged but loveable in moments.

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s 5th vessel, sees him as just another one of the people he can use. Kieran doesn’t really mind him at all and sometimes is extremely thankful for him. He does wish he could get his memories back but Sleep refuses and says he will not have a defective vessel.

Transformation -

Has the band’s moon-type symbol on his forehead, the darkening to ashy black stops just under his chin before it spikes into a deep black across his face.

Mini backstory -

Had a very happy and popular childhood/teen years. Kieran was known for his musical abilities and later made a band called Dreamer’s Archive with a few friends. Their band became popular but died out after the disappearance of their lead singer Kieran. Turns out his girlfriend of 3 months had dragged him away and turned abusive. Forcing him to take more drugs and numb him. She slowly began to turn him into basically a slave for money. Letting people do whatever they wanted to him as long as they paid. Kieran couldn’t do anything to stop it due to the constant drugs in his system. He had a final straw moment and ran away while trying to OD.

VII

Name - Cole Lindsey

Age - 25

Height - 6’5

Personality -

Spitfire aggressive vessel. Cole often times tries to start fights with anyone he does not deem in his “circle” and or is not trustworthy. He always attempts to gain his old life back so he can feel the same freedom. Can be very flirty at times but if he is not growling/hiss or flirting, he is extremely quiet. Brooding almost but just does not have a lot to say.

Connection to Sleep -

Very unsure of him, 7 being a holy number his bond/connection is nearly as strong as Vessel’s. He is weary of him and chooses to act as though he does not exist sometimes. Cole oftentimes is forced into a trance due to acting against Sleep.

Transformation -

He is covered in scars, everything from his past life. Due to his scars being so many and some so wide, they are slowly turning into open eyes. They move independently to one another and blink/glare. The larger of his scars are opened into fanged mouths with long tongues. Dark black fingertips that slowly fade up to his elbow. His body is cold to the touch. His real/nature eyes are clouded over as though he is blind.

Mini backstory -

He didn’t have the best home life so he picked to do anything to make money. In his part of the world he was able to join many underground and illegal organizations such as underground boxing, motorcycle and drift car racing. Had dated the girlfriend of the revival ground and ended up killing her after he forced herself onto his life during a race. They slid and she (Maddy) had hit a wall and broke her neck and split open her chest. Come tried to save her but ended up accidentally pushing her ribs into her heart. He was later killed by her boyfriend and his body was tossed into a river to decompose.

Angel(s)

Name - Velika (Ragnar)

Age - Unkown

Height - 5’1

Personality -

Soft and bubbly in moments, very playful. She is known to crawl things and be very independent. Hard-headed and refuses to take no for an answer.

Stubborn independence bubble. She is known to want to do things her own way and will not stop till the task is complete. She does not care for help since she grew up believing in fighting for one's self. A dominant personality that often times climbs counters to get a laugh out of her friends/lovers.

Connection to Sleep -

The ex-wife of Sleep, is technically still married but they are not together. That way anymore

First angel known to Sleep after getting kicked out of the god system…

Helper who always guides the first vessel (Elliot) to sleep

Transformation -

Black wings, soft black around fingertips and toes, fangs, normal looking or the most part

Mini backstory -

Grew up with her father teaching her warrior-like skills in private away from her mother. Mother was the village cook and was well-loved. Father ends up dying in war so Vel joins the fight at age 22. (Takes on her father's name) meets a wounded soldier and it turns out to be Sleep’s very first vessel. She helps him and they end up falling in love. They get married and have 2 kids. Second birth brings her to the brink of death. Sleep turns her into an angel for him hoping to save her. Vel is extremely upset and slowly begins to resent sleep. Is forced into following him through timelines and watches her children die.

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