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animeyanderelover · 8 months

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Second may I request Tobirama nfsw hcs

Tags: @shumidehiro @naeho @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, Nsfw, choking, overstimulation, breeding, afab reader

Nsfw Hc’s

🌊Tobirama is a man who values the traditions passed down in his clan for generations and that also includes the manners appropriate at that time when it comes to anything sexual. It is surely for someone amusing to consider the fact that this man is a virgin despite his huge achievements. Tobirama truly holds his traditions dear though and only plans to have sex with his spouse. Whilst he is still a man with needs, he has a case of being workaholic so his focus is often only pinned on his work. He isn’t one to get tempted by desire that easily and it is mainly his darling that eventually causes his thoughts to shift. Obviously not in an instant way but in a more gradual one where he slowly starts appreciating you for your personality traits as well as your body. He never mentions anything about it though as he remains a strict and respectful man who refuses to ogle at you like some perverted creep. Even with his own body slowly being more sensitive and reactive when in close proximity to you, Tobirama is adamant to save everything for marriage.

🌊He keeps the tradition alive until the bitter end, until both of you have given your vows. There have been some passionate moments before this moment but even then he has never allowed it to escalate into anything more than rough kisses and experimental touches. There is definitely some sexual frustration that has accumulated inside of him over all the time he had to wait though and all of that will be unloaded on the wedding night. It is going to be rougher for you at the beginning as there is some uncomfortable pain that accompanies the pleasure. Even if Tobirama has been considerate to prep you until he has deemed it to be enough, he can’t help but be on a more aggressive side as he pounds into you. Give him a few rounds, endure it for a while until he has calmed down. Even if you’re by that point already trembling, all of your senses and nerves overstimulated as you have come on his cock multiple times. Because now he starts getting softer with low words of praise, warm kisses and hands appreciatively roaming around on your body as he starts slapping his hips against your own once again in a slow pace.

🌊Everything that isn’t part of his body or yours doesn’t belong in the bedroom when he’s making love to you. Tobirama is wildly vanilla and not very open nor accepting of anything that dabbles into the more kinky side and he has especially something against tools. A part of this mindset really stems from the way he was raised in the Senju clan. Another part of him views any tools you may even dare to suggest as an insult. Such things are in his eyes not only a hindrance but steal away the intimacy such experiences are supposed to have. You only have to focus on one thing when he is slamming his hard and thick length in you and that is him and he only has to focus on you when your sensitive walls flutter around him. He should be enough to pleasure you. Are you trying to suggest that he isn’t satisfying you enough? You won’t even be able to get any sex toys in the house but you definitely get one long and rough session with Tobirama who will gladly fuck your brain out if it helps you to realize that there isn’t any need for any other objects. Don’t you ever dare again to mention sex toys again in his presence.

🌊He makes an attempt to never do it too often but Tobirama can’t deny that sometimes it just feels incredible to vent his frustration and stress out by having sex with you. Everything is wiped from his memory besides the pleasure he receives in the moment and all tension melts away when he reaches his own orgasm. He knows that the problems won’t be solved by simply railing you into the sheets but for his own sanity, he sometimes can’t help himself. Everything about the sex life between you two is kept within your own house though as he would only view it as very inappropriate to share such sacred moments with anyone else. That means that he also doesn’t appreciate if you give him any hickies or scratches on places that he can’t cover up and he applies the same principle to you. If he ever catches any leftover from a previous night, he always sees it through that you wear clothes that hide it.

🌊Whilst Tobirama despises any toys and most kinks, he has a thing for choking you. It is almost an eye-rolling experience when you feel his calloused and rough hands wrapping themselves around your warm neck whilst he is mercilessly thrusting his thick member in and out of your slick hole. The Second Hokage definitely asserts his dominance over you during such heated moments. Either by choking you or by grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head, preventing you from touching him. Needless to say, he is always the one in control even during sex as his controlling side even extends there. He is unable to ever imagine himself playing the part of the submissive partner in his married life with you. It once again connects to his traditional upbringing in the Senju clan as well as the way he thinks he has to behave as a warrior as well as the Second Hokage. Complain about it as much as you will, he knows you’ll forget about it once he hits all the right spots inside of you.

🌊He isn’t very vocal for a big part as the only sounds you ever hear him make are the occasional grunt and groan when the tightening of your walls sparks the pleasure building up inside of him more and more. Normally it always starts on a rougher side where he gradually mellows out after a few rounds and starts being more affectionate and nice. His aftercare is quite good too because he is aware that he goes rough on you and that he forces a lot out of you so he always makes sure to hydrate and clean you thoroughly up after he has left you as a sticky mess. He isn’t interested in any kids for the first few years of the relationship as his priorities are currently elsewhere but he knows that as a part of the Senju Clan and especially as someone with his position, the topic will be unavoidable. He likes to be fully prepared for this future scenario and he discusses it with you too to have you prepared for it too. Until that time arrives though, he even allows you to consume anything that prevents you from getting pregnant.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere tobirama #yandere tobirama senju

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sweetmage · 4 months

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Happy Friday! How do you feel about a bit of Purple Mage M!Hawke/Anders/Justice and some "Reopening an Old Wound," either literally or metaphorically?

Hiii! Thank you so much for the prompt, I really enjoyed writing this one <3 Justice is more of an influence on Anders' thoughts/opinions than a direct presence in this (save for a few mentions) but I think it fits the prompt otherwise! Also, it totally got away from me, I couldn't resist falling into love confession territory 😆💖Thank you again!

@dadrunkwriting -- Rating: M Word Count: 5325 Characters: Anders, Hawke, Sebastian (mentioned) Trigger/Content Warnings: Brief canon typical mention of past abuse and sexual assault (with regards to the Circle), Sebastian critical (in the context of the story and Anders' feelings/opinions) Tags: Supportive Mage Hawke, past trauma, emotional hurt/comfort, banter and teasing, love confessions, innuendos, suggestive flirting, making out, insecurities, reassurance, crying, venting session, bed sharing, spending the night, falling in love.

Summary: After an insensitive confrontation from Sebastian rubbed him raw and a trip to the Hanged Man and Blooming Rose failed to soothe the hurt, Anders began to wander the streets and accidentally found himself on Hawke's doorstep...

Based on this Sebastian & Anders banter (imgur link)

Anders must have been the first man alive to ever leave a whorehouse unsatisfied. Even there he hadn't found respite from his troubled thoughts, only disappointment, discomfort, and a considerably lighter coin purse.

Though the arrogant prick had up and left hours ago, Anders could still feel his words like a dagger in his gut, lodged so tight even drink and fair company couldn't dull the ache.

He hated Sebastian, that spoiled princeling with a silver spoon shoved so far up his ass he could surely taste the metal. He was everything wrong with the Chantry personified; a zealot who hid his privilege beneath a veneer of piety and poverty while turning his eyes from the rot beneath his feet.

Of course he couldn't understand Anders' anger or grasp the depths of despair mages lived in every day, the fear that had been the cornerstone of his—every mage's—existence from the moment he'd first manifested magic.

The fact that that sanctimonious bastard dared even ask if something happened there, as though the reality all around him didn't speak for itself—it made him want to spit.

At this rate, he should have returned home but he'd lost track of the hours, drunk and aimless as he wandered through the city streets. He hadn't realized which turns he'd taken, how many steps he'd climbed until he found himself standing on a familiar doorstep, fingers hesitating at the knocker.

It was late, well past the hour he should be troubling Hawke, but when he tried to turn and go he found his body refusing to listen. Instead, his fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the knocker and knocked softly, regretting the action as soon as the sound echoed through the silence.

Retreating with a step back and another to follow, he was already turning to go when the door swung open and Hawke stood there, sleep-tousled and in a half-tied robe that hung loosely off the shoulder.

Anders' tongue seemed to swell and lodge itself at the back of his throat and his further attempts at escape landed him sprawled unceremoniously against the pavement at the bottom of the steps.

"What in the—" Hawke's hands were suddenly upon him, rolling him over onto his back and hauling him to his feet, his strong arms steadying him. "Anders?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," Anders muttered, the words spilling from his lips without conscious thought as he brushed the dirt from his coat. "I'm sorry. I'm going."

Hawke's hand caught his wrist and held him back. "Anders. Come inside."

"No, I shouldn't. I need to get back. I just, I didn't know where else to go. But I shouldn't have bothered you. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm fine." He tugged at his wrist and was surprised when Hawke held firm.

"You show up at my doorstep at Maker-knows-what hour, falling all over yourself and trying to run off into the night and I'm supposed to believe you're fine?"

Anders' gaze fell to the hand around his wrist, unable to meet Hawke's eyes. Against his better judgment, he said nothing, the silence stretching on long enough that Hawke sighed and dragged him into the house.

He didn't have the will or energy to fight it, following without a word of protest or resistance, allowing himself to be led through the quiet manor up to Hawke's bedroom.

"You didn't drop by to borrow a cup of sugar," Hawke noted, gesturing for him to have a seat at the desk or on the bed. Anders chose the desk. "Why are you here?"

Anders thought long and hard about the question only to come to an unsatisfactory answer. "I don't know."

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes."

"I thought you said Justice disapproved."

Anders shrugged, picking up the closest thing to him—a letter opener—and flipping it between his fingers, spinning it round and round, back and forth, his eyes glued to the movement of the blade. "I guess he's out for the night." It was meant to be a joke but he didn't have it in him and it slipped right over Hawke's head.

"Huh... So what happened? Trouble at the clinic?"

"No. I haven't been back today," he answered, shaking his head.

"After your little spat with Seb, you mean?" He asked the question in a casual, offhand way as though it wasn't a big deal, just a little squabble among travelmates.

Anders didn't answer, but the mention of Sebastian's name made his knuckles whiten around the blade’s grip.

"I should have said something," Hawke admitted, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms. "I didn't expect it to get so ugly."

"It's not your job to fight my battles for me." He looked up at him for a moment, then quickly turned away.

"I don't get paid to do a lot of things," Hawke replied. "Never stopped me before. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"You'd face his wrath, listen to him prattle on just for the warmth and fuzziness of it all?" His lip quirked slightly, momentarily diverted from his woes as he regarded his friend dubiously.

"Everyone needs a hobby." He pushed himself off the wall to join Anders by the desk, settling himself on the edge and looking down upon him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he said, not entirely truthfully. It would be all too easy to let it spill forth—his worries and fears and frustrations—but it felt selfish. It was easier to turn his sights to the plight of others, to bear the pain of the downtrodden in place of his own and forget that he, too, could hurt.

"So you came here just to brood at my desk and play with my things?"

“Apparently," he murmured. Returning the opener to its proper place, Anders instead ran his hands idly along the smooth edge of the desk. "I'm sorry. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I didn't have some grand plan in mind. I didn't mean to come here."

"And yet, here you are. If you didn't want to see me, there's a few other people in Kirkwall you could have dropped in on. Washed up Orlesian chevaliers. Carta dwarves. That crazy guy who hangs out under the stairs. You picked me. What does that say about you, I wonder?"

"That I have poor taste and a penchant for trouble?" Anders guessed.

"I was going more for 'he needs someone who cares' but that's a close second."

Smiling ruefully, Anders shook his head, his hair slipping from behind his ear. Hawke reached over to brush it aside, tucking the loose locks gently back where they belonged. Quietly, Anders turned to look at him, eyes tracing his friend's features in the dim candlelight as his hand lingered at his jaw a moment too long.

"I'm awake now and my ears are all yours so why not talk? It might make you feel better."

It might... It just seemed so unnecessary when there were far greater concerns in Kirkwall to address. Yet he found himself regretting that last drink, the one that now had the words resting heavy on the tip of his tongue, begging for freedom.

"Anders?"

"He asked me if something happened to me in the Circle. If I was angry about it. The very fact that he could even ask that..." He scoffed and turned away. "The nerve of it..."

"Did something happen to you?" Hawke asked, his tone soft and low. Somehow on his lips—a mage, a friend—it sounded less prying than when Sebastian had asked it.

"Something happens to a lot of us. That's how things are in a Circle. They take your life from you, tell you what to think and how to behave. They force mages into isolation, separate them from everything and everyone they've ever loved and they're told it's for their own safety, that they're only helping. Then they do a lot worse than that, they have all these pretty words to dress that up, to make them believe that what they're going through is just a natural consequence of being born who they are." He felt Justice stirring at the thought and tried to quash his emotions before they could spark something bigger.

"I didn't ask about the other mages, though. I asked about you."

An odd feeling rose within him—like a spotlight had been trained upon him, the only man in a dark room. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "Yes. No. Sort of. It doesn't matter."

Hawke seemed dissatisfied with his answer, his lips pursed and head cocked slightly to one side. "It doesn't sound like you were very ‘fortunate’," he remarked of Anders' early statements, the words he'd used to dismiss Sebastian's questions.

'It's not about being beaten or raped by a templar— that does happen, but I've been fortunate.'

His own words played over in his mind, a barrier he'd erected between himself and the truth. That it kept Sebastian out as well was just a bonus. He'd spent so long building his defenses, fortifying himself in the way required to stand for others, but Hawke's steady, caring gaze was chipping away at them.

"I was fortunate to escape," he conceded, his words halting and reluctant. "Most don't. They still face that threat every day."

"So that's what happened to you? Raped and beaten? And everything else you were on about?"

He had met few people less tactful than Hawke, but something about the way he put aside his mask of charm and humor and just said the things others danced around was oddly comforting. He was trying and that was more than many had done for Anders.

"I don't really want to talk about this," he answered quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

Anders felt the prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes and the heat rising in his face and hated both. "It doesn't matter," he said, trying and failing to keep his voice even. "It was a long time ago."

"Maybe. It doesn't make it hurt any less, does it?"

"No. It doesn't. I haven't told anyone except for Justice. He... saw it. When he joined with me. Everything that happened over decades in a split second. But then we couldn't speak to each other anymore. So the only one that knows now is..." He looked down at his hands, flexing the fingers as though they weren't his own. "I shouldn't have put that on you. I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything..."

Without preamble, Hawke lowered himself from the desk and placed his hands upon Anders' shoulders and pulled him forward, wrapping his arms around him in an awkward but sincere embrace.

Anders stiffened in surprise, uncertain how to react at first. After a moment, though, he gave in, leaning into Hawke and letting his arms circle his waist, hands fisting at the back of his robes as his emotions began to spill forth, a quiet sob wracking his body before he could stifle it.

Hawke's hand cradled the back of his head, his fingers slipping into his hair. He graciously said nothing, simply holding Anders as the dam broke and his years of pain and suffering found release.

He had never wished to distract from the bigger picture, to center himself in a fight that was not his alone, but he knew that Hawke saw the root of what he was fighting for. Was it so wrong, then, to let him see a glimpse of the man beneath the cause?

Anders didn't know, but it felt good to be seen, to be understood.

"Feel better?" Hawke asked, breaking the silence between them when Anders finally pulled back.

He was embarrassed at his outburst, at the damp patch of tears upon Hawke's shoulder, but there was no mocking in his friend's eyes, no judgment or disgust, just simple compassion. "A bit. Thank you."

"My pleasure. I mean, not my actual pleasure, obviously. I didn't enjoy watching you cry, I just—you know what? Nevermind." He cleared his throat, straightening his house robe and looking away.

Anders smiled, a small, fleeting thing, and wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his coat. "You're a good friend, Hawke. I'm not sure what I've done to— I mean, you're just... you're a good man."

"Be still, my beating heart," Hawke muttered, putting a hand to his chest as though overwhelmed by the flattery. And perhaps he was, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink and a sheepish smile upon his lips. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me or I'll be the next one to wind up in tears."

"Well if you need a shoulder..."

"Those do look pretty soft," Hawke teased, gesturing to the plumage that adorned Anders' coat. "I'm going to have to take you up on that sometime."

"Anytime," Anders said, chuckling lightly.

"So, would you prefer the bed or the floor?"

The question left him feeling off-kilter, unsure whether Hawke was making a joke or asking legitimately. He hesitated a moment, considering, then realized it was probably a bit silly to think too hard about it if he was being genuine.

"I think the cots in my clinic are just fine, thank you."

"Seriously, Anders? Still trying to scamper off? After all that? We've hugged and everything!"

"And that means you think I should share your bed now?"

"I never mentioned anything about sharing," Hawke replied, his brows arching.

"A-ah..." Anders felt the heat rise in his cheeks, his heart picking up a notch. "I suppose you didn't." Standing quickly, he tried not to seem too hasty as he turned for the door. "Still, it's late and I'm sobering up so—"

Hawke's hand closed around his wrist, stopping him again. "Stay."

"What?"

"Here. Tonight. With me. Stay."

It was hard not to notice how close Hawke was, standing a scant inch from him, the scent of him filling his senses. His eyes fell to his lips and then he tore his gaze away, his face hot, pulse racing.

He knew he shouldn't get any closer, but the night had already gotten away from him and his thoughts were still hazy, clouded with alcohol and emotion.

"It's a long walk, the sun will be up before you get back to Darktown and you've had quite a bit to drink. It's better you stay here. And... I'd miss you, if you left."

Anders looked at Hawke, at his kind, earnest expression and could not find it in himself to say no. "You do so much for me. I don't know how to thank you."

"Try getting a solid eight to ten hours of sleep for once and we'll call it even," he replied, only half-teasing.

"Ten? I haven't even slept for more than six since..." He sighed, not even knowing how long he'd been undersleeping to allow for more work time. But if that was all Hawke was asking then it was hardly an unreasonable request. "Alright."

"Good." Releasing his wrist, Hawke took a step back, removing himself from Anders' personal space. "Do you need anything? Food? Water?"

"No, I'll be alright. Sleep does sound nice. I'll just go hang up my coat and—"

"Ah. Right. You need something to sleep in. Hold tight a moment." He strode across the room and rifled through his wardrobe, returning a few moments later with a loose house robe. "It's probably a bit too big but it's better than nothing. There's a basin in the corner if you want to wash up. Or you can use the tub downstairs, it's big enough for a family. Not that you need that, unless you have an interesting story to tell. Not that it's any of my business if you do." He held the robe out to him and Anders took it, amused at his rambling. He seemed almost... nervous? Or perhaps the hour was getting to him.

"I'll make do with the basin, thanks," he said, reluctant to dally any longer than necessary lest he lose his nerve and get the urge to flee again.

"Of course." Hawke smiled, gesturing vaguely towards the washbasin and turning away for Anders' privacy.

He dipped behind the divider and stripped down to his smalls, performing a quick, perfunctory wash before redressing in the robe Hawke had provided. To say they were too large would be a vast understatement, his slender frame was all but swallowed up by the oversized garment. He flushed, tugging self-consciously at the hem as he emerged.

As expected, Hawke wore an amused grin the moment his eyes fell upon him, just barely withholding a snicker at his expense.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up," Anders grumbled, though he couldn't help but return the smile, his amusement proved infectious.

"Oh, I'm going to, don't even worry," he said, his laughter bubbling over. "Maker, I ought to feed you come morning, you could use a few good meals. You're practically swimming in that robe."

As though even a few meals would fill him out this much. "I eat fine, Hawke," he grumbled in retort. But, for all his eye-rolling, he was somewhat endeared by the sentiment behind Hawke's teasing. It was an oddly domestic scene and Anders was loathe to admit a part of him was enjoying it.

"Sure you do. And I'm the king of Ferelden. Now come on, bed's over here." Hawke moved from his spot beside the desk to pull back the bedcovers and gestured for Anders to climb in. "So... what you said before, the thing about us sharing...?" As soon as the words fled his lips he looked mortified, as though he hadn't meant to actually ask them.

"Hawke..." Anders stared at him, brow quirked and a faint flush rising in his cheeks. "I wasn't serious about that. I just thought that's what you were saying—"

Hawke looked stricken and pale, a nervous sheen forming upon his brow. "Right. No, I know. I just... Forget it. Nevermind. Just... you can have the bed." Backing away he began to retreat towards the door. "I'll take the chaise."

"Hawke, wait." Anders laid a hand upon his shoulder before he could think better of it and, after a deep breath he exhaled with a chuckle. "Point taken, I see how you feel when I'm trying to make a break for it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— It wasn't that I was trying to run from you, it's just— Maker's balls, can I form a single coherent sentence?" He ran a hand down over his weary features. "Look, you're very tired and very vulnerable and a little drunk so I shouldn't have said anything. I was being an ass. And after what you told me tonight... I don't want to be another person you have to be afraid of."

Anders was silent for a moment, his hand still upon Hawke's shoulder while he mulled his words. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't reel in the scowl that darkened his features even when Hawke's expression shifted in response. He let his hand drop, though not his gaze. "What? Now that I've poured out my heart, you think I'm just going to fall apart on you? Don't make me regret opening up to you. I don't want to be treated differently because of it. I can't stand that."

Where Anders had expected more pity and floundering, he instead found relief in Hawke's expression, followed by a soft smile. "Thank the bloody Maker. You have no idea how terrible I am at the whole 'walking on eggshells' song and dance." He let out a deep, tension-breaking sigh.

"You've made that clear." His lips twitched into a brief, wry smile before returning Hawke's honesty with a bit of his own. "I appreciate you trying. Really. It’s meant the world to me to still have you here at my side after everything. I've never had a friend like you before. Maker knows what I'd do without you." He was thankful he was sobering because the more he spoke, the closer he found himself to a confession he'd rather not make.

"Probably have a lot fewer people trying to kill you," Hawke mused.

"Or a lot more. Or I'd already be ashes in the pyre. Either way, I'm glad I have you with me." He managed a half-smile, shrugging the robe further up his shoulder though it was a losing battle. "But enough of that. It's late and someone was telling me I need a solid ten hours of sleep." Stepping around Hawke, he climbed into the bed and slid beneath the covers. The sheets were sinfully comfortable—unlike anything he'd known in his clinic, the circle, or even the Keep—and his weary body was already melting into the mattress, eager for rest. A shame, then, that his mind was set to racing again as Hawke climbed in beside him.

"I assume this is back on the table then?" He asked, settling in so close Anders could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the subtle floral of his hair as it fell and fanned half off of his pillow and half onto Anders'.

He'd forgotten the question entirely the moment it reached his ears. "Sorry?" He asked, shaking his head slightly.

"Sorry?" Hawke echoed, lids lowered groggily or perhaps even sultry as he watched Anders over the short space between them. "Are you cold? You're shaking something fierce."

Was he? He hadn't noticed, his whole body had gone stiff at Hawke's closeness and he hadn't been able to feel much of anything else since. But Hawke's fingers upon his arm were proof enough that it wasn't just a flight of fancy, that he hadn't imagined that Hawke was looking at him in such a way. "Oh," he murmured, drawing his limbs inward and willing his heart to calm. "Yes. A bit."

And it was only then that he noticed Hawke's arm moving across his pillow. His fingers were slow and steady, deliberate as they inched towards the back of his neck until Anders, unable to help himself, moved in towards the contact. He rested his cheek against Hawke's upper arm, face pressed into his shoulder as Hawke's fingers continued up and threaded into his hair, combing lightly through the loose locks. He lay still as a stone, wondering if Hawke was feeling every heavy thud of his heart, when he'd realize what he was doing and who it was he was with and recoil, but the moments ticked by and he did no such thing.

"Hawke?" He lifted his head from his arm to meet his eyes, only to find himself drowning in those warm pools of amber, the breath caught in his lungs. Anders' lips parted and the words fell forth before he could stop them: "You don't know what you're doing, what you're risking." They were the same words he'd told himself time and again, ones he'd used to distance himself from others, from temptation. Yet, there in the quiet intimacy of Hawke's bed, they sounded hollow and false. "You deserve better than the ruin I will bring you."

"Why did you come here tonight?" Hawke asked him softly. "To me. Why didn't you go to Varric? Isabela? Why didn't you go home?"

The words did not come easy, filtered through a thousand lies he wished to tell. In the end, however, he could not. Not to him. "I only feel like myself when I'm with you. Like I'm alive and can face anything. Like anything matters. Like I matter." He felt more exposed now than he had in Hawke's robe, his heart laid bare before him. Dangerous confessions they were, and yet, they tasted sweet on his tongue. "I wasn't lying when I said I didn't mean to come here. But that's worse, like my heart knew what my head couldn't."

"You speak to me like that then expect me to let you go?"

"You should," he whispered. "I can't give you what you deserve—"

"Then give me what I want," he countered, though Anders did not know which he spoke of—a night, a future—and feared asking for clarification lest it all be dashed to bits. "No... what you want. It's your call," he murmured, fingers slipping from his hair and across Anders' cheek as he withdrew his hand.

What he wanted... dare he even put words to it? A simple touch, the taste of Hawke's lips upon his own, to hear his name whispered in the dark as the morning came. These things were selfish, and yet... perhaps there was nothing so wrong with that now and again. Was it wrong to want another shoulder to share the weight of the world with? He'd been fighting alone for so long...

His body moved before he'd made any conscious decision, his eyes locked upon Hawke's mouth. He thought he saw Hawke swallow, but there was no resistance when he moved forward, no flinch of surprise. His fingers splayed across Hawke's jaw, holding him there as their lips came together in the briefest, softest contact. "Andraste, help us both... I love you, Hawke," he murmured, voice hoarse with longing. "I have not slept soundly a night since I met you because I know you'll await me in my dreams and nothing can sate the ache in me when I wake without you there."

Hawke stayed silent long enough for Anders to start counting the seconds, wondering if perhaps he'd misstepped, but he didn't need to worry long. "It felt nice. Kissing you. I liked that," Hawke said finally. A blush crept over his cheeks, just visible in the lowlight. "Kiss me more? Please?" he added, his thumb brushing the stubble along Anders' jaw. "If you're sure it's not wrong."

It was a question that deserved an answer but all he could think was 'finally', his body closing the remaining distance between them with fervent abandon. His lips sought Hawke's and were greeted with no opposition, Hawke's fingers tangling back into his hair to draw him deeper. Hawke's lips parted beneath his and Anders tasted him, tongue slipping inside and exploring him for the first time. He tasted like sunlight and summer and everything he'd been missing in life. He couldn't help the soft, breathy sighs he spilled into Hawke's lips, his fingers clutching desperately at his robe, afraid if he let go he'd wake again like always.

"Maker, Anders..." Hawke's breath shuddered over the name, his chest rising and falling heavily. "I don't know how to love you right, but I love you. I love you so much," he whispered between frantic kisses, the words Anders longed for so badly falling from those precious lips.

Hawke wanted him, loved him... Anders wanted to sob for joy, his heart filled to burst from those words. "You love me... I could ask no more of you." He was shaking again, he realized, but it was alright. Hawke seemed receptive to every trembling touch, every whimper and sigh, every unspoken request to hold Anders closer and never let him go.

Anders was all but ready to have him here and now when Hawke began to slow the pace back to something tame, drawing him back with a few pecks at his lips. Then, he released him completely and settled back onto the pillow, a faint sheen of sweat upon his brow.

"Sorry," Hawke said, his breath coming in soft pants. "We should... slow down."

Anders let out a faint sigh of his own, a flicker of disappointment igniting inside him, but he tried not to let it show. "Sorry..."

"What are you sorry for?" Hawke asked with a soft laugh, a flush rising on his cheeks as his eyes ran over Anders' face and lips, looking at him in such a way it sent his heart racing once again. "I just thought: Why disappoint you now when I could disappoint you twice as much later? And for twice as long."

"You want to later? With me?"

"Disappoint you and forever change how you look at me?" Hawke asked, a smile touching his lips. "I'd be a complete idiot to pass up that opportunity."

"I didn't mean—I mean, I'd only be let down if you weren't serious," Anders admitted, glancing away from him for a moment. "I don't want to play with your heart, but I hope you won't play with mine either. Maybe it's best you sleep on it. Before you cast your life aside, put yourself in the Chantry's sights..." He was reluctant to bring reality back into a moment so blissful, but he needed Hawke to understand. "No one has done for mages what you have done, few understand our plight like you. So you know what it's like for people like us, the risks you'd be taking for loving me. It's dangerous when you have something you are afraid to lose. They can use that against you. If the Templars hurt you for this, for me, I'd—"

"Hard to argue with that logic," Hawke cut in, waving him into silence. "In that case, I suppose I'd better tell Mother to find a new place. And I'll leave Marian near the road in a crate marked 'for free'... assuming I can find one her size. And Dog is probably smart enough to make his own way, he already loves to eat rubbish so I'm sure he'll manage."

"Excuse me?" Anders asked, blinking owlishly.

"Wouldn't want the Templars coming for anyone I love so it's best I put them out first, right?" He gave him a light, knowing smile that belied his deadpan delivery.

Heat crept to his cheeks and realization struck, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through him. "Well when you say it like that it sounds ridiculous."

"Praise the Maker, you're catching on." He cupped Anders' jaw, running a thumb lightly across his lip. "Let them try to take you from me."

He shivered at the promise, the protective gleam in Hawke's eye. "You really mean that." It wasn't a question, he could read the conviction in his face. "Thank you."

"Will you sleep now?" He asked, shifting closer to him to tuck his face into the crook of his neck, his beard scratching pleasantly at the tender skin. "It's less awkward if we both go instead of me snoring in the middle of you pouring your heart out."

"Yes, love." It felt nice upon his tongue, natural and right as though it had always been waiting there.

"Mmm, that sounds nice." Hawke pressed a chaste peck to the corner of his jaw and he could feel his smile there. "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," he said softly back, wrapping his arms around his love. He listened as Hawke's breathing slowed and steadied as he fell to slumber. He almost didn't want to join him, he wanted to bask in this moment forever.

The day's troubles felt worlds away and the ones yet to come no longer loomed so large. Even the thought of that smug prick was more an afterthought than an outrage in Hawke's arms. What did that arrogant prince know anyway? He surely lay alone in the Chantry cots wrapped safely in his ignorance, willfully unaware of the world and its cruelties. To live such a lie and remain on a high horse seemed a pathetic existence, one Anders did not envy despite all he had to witness and endure. Though he—Justice—had his reservations, Anders knew this was no distraction. Hawke had proven himself worthy and then some, risked and suffered for the rights of all mages; Sebastian would continue to grope around in the darkness he chose while the brightest light in Kirkwall had his lips to Anders' neck. He felt vindicated. And tired...

He let his eyes fall shut, Hawke's warmth and scent enveloping him. If he was still dreaming, he hoped he could stay like this just a little longer.

#anders #hawke #handers #m!handers #dragon age 2 #da2 #sebastian critical #chantry critical #dadwc #jun fics

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shina913 · 1 year

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Nothing | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15; SFW

Genre: Established relationship; slice of life; just tooth-rotting fluff

Warnings: Some cussing

Word count: 639 words

Summary: Based on @novelbear 's writing prompt: "brushing their hair for them and smiling fondly as they just ramble about their day"

A/N: Yes, I'm still suffering from Yoongi brain rot. Also, thanks to Sim @/itdoesntmatterwhy and her "I want to cuddle with Yoongi" scenario, spurred by this photo. Happy to 🤡 around with you for this! The title is from Bruno Major's song of the same name, also tagging you, Miks @/miksancheese because we both love Bruno Major LOL

Just as you settle in for a quiet reading session, the tell-tale grinding of the garage door opening interrupts you. You remain on the couch, having received a text from Yoongi minutes ago letting you know he's on his way home after working overtime. You've already warmed up his dinner and left it on the counter for him to dig in.

A minute later, you hear the garage door close, followed by some muffled thumps by the doorway, where he takes his shoes off before entering.

"Hey, babe," you call over your shoulder once you hear the door latch click.

"Hi," he half-mumbles and grunts back. It's his sixth day working this week, and he's exhausted.

"I made you a plate, and there's some beer—" you say, but he barely lets you finish your sentence before flopping onto the couch. He gently nudges your free hand out of the way before proceeding to make himself comfortable on your lap. He lets out a long, deep sigh.

You stare at him comically. "Uhm... hi," you say to him with a soft chuckle.

He lets out another grunt, his long hair in a messy heap.

You put your book down and carefully brush the strands off him to reveal his beautiful face. His eyes are shut, but you can see a hint of a frown. He must have had a rough day, you think to yourself.

You playfully run your fingertip over the crease between his brows in an attempt to flatten it.

"So, how was your day?" You keep your tone light because you know your question will trigger Yoongi to vent about how one colleague screwed up and another had no idea what they were doing, leaving Yoongi to clean up the whole mess.

“Fuck, man,” he groans. "I knew today was going to be a cluster, but I had no idea it would be this bad." He goes on a rant about his two incompetent colleagues who should retire to make room for new people with fresh ideas.

As he angrily rambles about work, you run your hands through his hair, gently applying pressure to his scalp with every pass. Whenever he pauses, you ask follow-up questions, and his tone noticeably softens as he answers.

You nod and hum, validating his frustration with his coworkers. Slowly but surely, you feel the agitation in his voice dissipate with each stroke of your fingertips.

By the end of his venting, he tilts his chin up toward you and gently brushes your jawline with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I just went on and on about my day and forgot to ask you about yours."

"S’okay," you say, leaning into his touch. "My sister hung out for a bit before going out to dinner with Jae. I just kind of lazed around after that."

“Mm,” he hums noncommittally.

He shifts enough to reach over the coffee table and pick up the remote that controls your living room sound system. Mumbling something into the built-in microphone, he prompts it to play some lo-fi tracks.

“Aren’t you hungry? Why don’t you go eat?” you offer.

“Maybe later. I’m comfy here,” he replies. He readjusts himself on the couch and takes one of your hands, bringing it in front of him to brush the tip of his nose against your skin before he kisses it.

“Alright,” you giggle before taking your book and picking up where you left off before Yoongi pleasantly invaded your personal space.

A few seconds later, you lean over and call his name a few times, but he responds with a couple of deep, throaty snores. You smile, content with the fact that you'll be spending another night curled up on the couch with him. At this rate, you might as well sell your bed.

Nothing Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @miksancheese

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fluff #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #bts fluff #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #myg fluff #nothing x myg

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wooimbouttamakeanameformyself · 2 months

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Okay listen hoes.

I’ve been surfing these anti Danneel, anti Jenneel, anti this and anti that tags for like… over a year. I’ve always been watching from the sidelines with my lil bag of popcorn, given an anon ask every now and again to other blogs, but never bothered to make a post about it. Because I didn’t think it was relevant, correction, I didn’t think Elta was relevant enough to make a venting post about — which is why I’m baffled as to why she even has stans — but also I just figured in the long run, none of our speculations, opinions or posts about this lady mean anything to anyone.

Actually, I may be incorrect there, as the AA’s may butcher me, or worse… Danneel may get Cliff to make another post… sheesh!

But anyway, seeing this latest Wales con, I got a real bad case of FOMO and decided I wanna bitch on tumblr as well (no hate to the bitches, I love scrolling through everyone bitching about the ‘perfect’ couple)

Here’s my take on everything, even tho no one asked:

Yes, it is painfully, horribly, excruciatingly obvious that those two don’t even like each other let alone love each other.

But I’ve seen some people and blogs talk about Danneel physically abuse Jensen, which I just don’t personally believe — each to their own opinion, though — but I just personally haven’t seen any evidence or receipts of that being true. Emotional abuse, yes, verbal abuse, definitely. But physical is something I ain’t gonna say I think is happening.

Danneel’s a bitch, as we all know, as the stans like to pretend isn’t true. But I really don’t think Jensen’s a saint or a victim — and I say he isn’t a victim only because in the end, looking over the financial consequences and the custody of the kids thing that would come with a divorce, she has little hold over him. He has the fame, the money, and what do you wanna bet that all of the Elta followers would do a 180 on their ‘Kween’ if Jensen ever spoke up about anything? And by no means am I suggesting that men can’t be victims before anyone jumps down my throat, I’m just saying that Jensen has the capability to fight back to her or leave her if he wanted to.

But he won’t, because — and I’m bracing myself for the hate I’ll get for this — he’s also kind of a narcissist and a liar!!! 😱😱😱 surprised I’m still writing and wasn’t just assassinated on the spot for saying that lols! Dare I say… he’s just as bad as Danneel in some aspects? That he has pretty privilege? Though not so much anymore since he and Danneel have clearly started doing couples Botox sessions. Wooof I’m really pushing my luck.

Trailed off a lil there, but what I was supposed to say is that he won’t because he’s embedded some kind of belief into his mind that his career will crash and burn if he doesn’t have his perfect ‘family man’ image. Even though let’s be honest about two things, your marriage is probably doing more harm than good to your image, and buddy, you’re a c-list actor who’s acting range is zero to none — I mean, he couldn’t stand playing anyone other than Dean Winchester that he tried, and failed, to make a spin off of Supernatural just so he got to play a brooding, macho hunter again. Though look how that turned out — your career isn’t some sacred artefact that can’t dare even be scratched, all he does these days is make money from cons, and a very occasional cameo playing as Dean in a different font. I’m worried the dude has Foreign Accent Syndrome but with Dean Winchester — as in he’s done it for that long that its irreversibly in his consciousness, to the point Danneel has to tell him to stop being Dean at home (sure she got a dig out of him mentioning that in the panel)

But I’m trying to focus talking about this con so far — even though I’ve trailed off multiple times already — first of all, ignoring the fact it’s insane that Danneel’s even at a Suoernatural con when her character (which was a nepotism role) wasn’t even in a full season, served no purpose, wasn’t even a likeable character — unless you like vapid, vain, and poorly portrayed characters — and added nothing to the storyline. And yet she gets treated like she’s a main cast member? Half of Dean’s flings who were in half an episode served more to the plot that Anael did in the whole five episodes she was on the show! And it pissed me off that Danneel’s getting the sort of treatment of main cast when Gen’s character was actually important to the plot, yet she wasn’t at the con. Not that I think Gen’s that bothered, which shows the difference between her and Danneel.

And apparently she auditioned for every single female role??? HUH?? Are we talking about the same Ms Gurl who made fun of Supernatural in the earlier seasons, claimed to not wanting to interfere as it was Jensen’s thing, demeaned and made fun of fans on twitter, criticised her own husband’s role and showed doubt of the series duration??? Make it make sense.

I’m kind of relieved Jensen hasn’t shared any of his made up domestic stories of them, to try and make it seem like they can even stand each other, although it would’ve been interesting to see him talk about it with Danneel there — just to see her reaction, cause I’m certain Jensen just makes up these stories as he goes along. But I guess my guy couldn’t even manage that, probably not after how much Elta knocked him down in front of everyone — she barely did anything else other than make jabs at him the whole time. Surprised my girl didn’t go blue from all the snarky remarks she was making.

Oh wait, it’s ‘sarcasm’, right? Silly me, I forgot that ‘that’s how they are with each other’ 😐😐😐 even AA’s have spoke up about her behaviour in this con — shows how much effort those two are bothering putting in to keep up the image. But hey, I’m proud that some of the delusional Jenneel shippers have developed a frontal lobe, probably because their self-insert isn’t doing what they want her to be doing!

Anyway that’s all from me, my thumbs hurt, can’t believe I wrote so much. Free will is a crazy thing. Excited to see what kind of hate I get from this ✌️😝

This ain’t grammar checked before anyone bullies me.

#anti danneel #anti jensen #anti aas #anti jenneel #jensen critical #loldontkillmeforthisitsmyopnion

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abyssleaves · 1 year

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Why I'll Be Remaining in the Lurking For Love Community

Ok.

Honestly, I really don't want to make this.

I'm way too old for fandom drama, and I don't need to be making myself a target. My gut is telling me that it's a bad idea to get involved, and I'm inviting trouble for myself by posting this.

But the most recent post against Tom is just ridiculous and I can't not speak my piece.

I'm not linking to it or reblogging it because I don't want to send hate anyone's way, and honestly because I'm going to block them as soon as this is posted. You can read mine and theirs for yourself and decide what you think.

As far as the “anti-Latino” posts that Tom liked, I can't speak to whether they do damage, or what Tom’s views actually are. I am not Latino, and I'm not Tom. It's not my place. But I will say I was aware of those posts long before I saw that “callout” post, and it's because multiple Latino artists I follow liked and retweeted them. At the time, I was given to understand that they were satirizing the fact that both were styles of stereotypes, but one was acceptable while the other was not, despite both being bad. I can't say, based on just those tweets, that I see any anti-Latino sentiment in Tom. I'm willing to admit that my knowledge on that front isn't bomb-proof.

The second point, well... I'm sorry to the friend that feels used. They're entitled to be hurt. And I will readily admit that I'm only able to respond to the info within that post. Maybe there IS more to it.

But I don't think that Tom ceasing contact over the hormones is surprising at all, from a mental health standpoint. Put yourself in his shoes: you're a trans person in US, which is its own struggle, and you've reached your mid/early 20s without being able to attain gender-affirming care. Now someone years younger than you just got the thing you want more than anything else. Sure, you might be happy for them. But that is also going to hurt, horribly. You really have three options:

1) stay friends and smother the bitterness/possible resentment. That will either end up ruining your mental health, or coming out and ruining the friendship anyway.

2) Ask your friend not to tell you/post about their transition. That makes it about you and also ruins something that should make them happy.

3) Distance yourself.

Maybe he should have spoken more directly with you about his feelings, granted. But, Tom has not been shy about the fact that he struggles with his mental health. None of us handle every situation well. As far as his occasional venting, I would think, if you WERE his friend, you might have some compassion, and either cease contact if the friendship is not fulfilling, or accept his sincere, well-written apology (Which are the ONLY words straight from Tom’s mouth on the entire fucking post).

Instead, you got the apology from him, and then shared a bunch of gossip between you and another friend, and outed your interpretations of his vent sessions to the world. That's not exactly classy, posting about how he sought people he felt safe with during a time when a big chunk of the community he built is telling him to do horrible things to himself.

I want to make it clear that I don't agree with all of Tom’s views as expressed on his initial explanation post. Again, many of them are issues that I don't feel are my place to get involved in, and therefore I stayed quiet at the time.

I'm aware that the justified and intense hurt felt by people in those communities can mean that even differing opinions feel like a slap in the face. You have every right to see Tom’s views as hurtful and choose to leave, and/or make a separate community for support. I don't blame people who are in those communities for doing so. This post is aimed at the obsessed minority that won't leave the tag/remaining fans/Tom alone.

All of the above being said, the reaction to Tom’s post is the most “touch grass” thing I have ever seen.

Tom liking one or two comics from a dark-humor comic artist so widespread on the internet that I didn't even know he had an actual page, or anything about him as a person (something Tom also stated) = Tom is a Nazi sympathizer.

Tom saying “I don't care for neopronouns, but I won't attack you for using them and will respect what everyone wants to be called” = Tom is a monstrous bigot.

The racism accusation has me especially 💀. All because he liked a post about help from an unexpected source and that we should be kinder to each other.

How on earth are you going to tell a POC that he doesn't know what racism is because he’s NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF POC? Do you hear yourself?

(FWIW, I also don't agree with kink at pride. Sorry. LGBTQ+ people are not "narsty little freaks"--yeah I SAW that post--they're people. They can be kinky, they can be vanilla, whatever. Kink has nothing to do with your orientation, and therefore it isn't part of Pride. Also, my guys, if you're having public sex/being nude at pride for kink reasons, then you're not part of the healthy kink community: safe, sane, and CONSENSUAL. Nobody around you consented to that. Similarly, while I feel that sex education for minors should be normalized in order to give them better tools to tell when they're being groomed, seeing strangers with no pants on is NOT education, that's involving minors in your fetish. And that's fucking gross. )

The LGBTQ+ community in the US is in a lot of trouble right now, and we have a very bad habit of eating our own. We divide and subdivide and allow ourselves to be carved up by a united conservative front.

We do not allow for differing levels of leftist beliefs, and we constantly accuse each other of being not POC/leftists/queer enough, or being the wrong kind, or using a term for ourselves that some other individuals don't like. A great deal of the bullying leveled against him is justified by others saying that he's choosing to support a party that will turn on him and cause him and others like him harm.

Well, to be honest, the only community I see doing that right now is this one.

The amount of disingenuous “OMG, just FYI everyone to everyone hurt by [situation], I’M not transphobic/a bigot, you're all welcome here 😌” posts from people, who did not read his post, did not link to or quote his post. Disgusting. You know very well that nothing in his explanation or in his actions throughout his time in the community pointed to any abuse ON HIS PART towards trans people, non-binary people, people of the Jewish faith, or POC. You're virtue signaling, you're putting lambs blood above your door to keep the baying mob away.

This is insane. When did differing opinions turn into this? You don't have to agree with Tom’s views on anything. You're welcome to not follow his accounts, not like his art, not buy his game. If you feel that his opinions are too severely different from yours, you should be allowed to leave the fandom without people telling you that you should do bad things to yourself because your opinions don't match theirs (sound familiar?).

But…please. Can we stop with this awful parasocial obsession with his personal page? You can't lie to yourself and call it anything other than literal stalking. It's creepy as hell, and it reflects more on you than on him, in the long run. People might agree with your outrage, but deep down, they're afraid of being the next target, and they stay quiet out of fear that you'll stalk them next and send a mob hurling abuse their way.

To Tom, I'm sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve anything even close to this level of vitriol and abuse. You started from scratch and created a character and story that I feel was something truly unique. You reached an incredible number of people's hearts with Lurking for Love and Jacob, and no matter what happens from here with both of them, you deserve to feel proud of that. I hope that you are ok. Being a public figure on the internet doesn't mean you don't have a right to private opinions or even just general privacy.

I'm not tagging any characters in this. I'm only tagging the game because I hope other fans get to see that they're not alone. I don't believe the tags should be polluted this way. If you have to discuss a creator, it should be in his tag and not in a fandom space.

I'm aware that there will be deliberate bad-faith readings of this, or nitpicking of things I didn't cover. Whoever wants to, go ahead and respond, but I've said what I came to say, and I have nothing more to add. My inbox is closed and I love the block button.

#lurking for love #lfl game #carnivorekitty

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corporatefrog · 1 year

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꒦‧₊ ꒷ team stan comforting you when you're stressed out [headcannons]✧.*

✧.* tags: mentions of drugs, college au ✧.* Characters: kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, stan marsh, butters stotch a/n: honestly, it helps me to work through my problems when i have a little fictional world to escape into so this request was a nice therapeutic writing with finals coming up

masterlist

Stan

Empathetic king right here

He probably won’t approach you because he doesn’t know if you want to talk about it or if you want your space

But if you ask him to talk he’d definitely listen

Very good listener!!

If it’s a person causing the emotional stress, stan is not having it

This is the guy who sat in his bedroom with a bunch of calves for DAYS, you know he’s going to be up in arms if someone else is causing you to be distressed

Definitely the type to suggest different things to take your mind off whatever’s stressing you out

Playing video games and ordering pizza!! Best way to destress!!

You could probably talk him into getting some of randy’s weed ngl (strike)

Kyle

He’s the type to give advice to whatever is troubling you

He doesn’t like to see his friends stressed and he wants to help!!

Helps you take a step back from the situation and see it more objectively

It doesn’t erase the stress but it gives good steps to approach it in a different way

Que brainstorming session to create a plan of attack for whatever’s bugging you

First day of being sad, talk to stan and eat pizza

Second day of being sad, talk to kyle and make a game plan

Dynamic duo of being stressed

Even if you don’t make an attack plan, he’s definitely a “let’s talk this through” type of person to at least find where the spiraling thoughts are occurring

Kenny

Reaches out to you first because he notices you being stressed

He’s really observant even if he doesn’t act on it often

All you need sometimes is a good hug

And a ton of weed and bad adam sandler movies (strike)

The type to try and make you laugh when he notices you’re feeling down

If you want to talk, he’ll listen but he’ll try and cheer you up regardless

You guys would go to starks pond or something and throw rocks in the water

A change of setting can do wonders!!

He definitely knows the best places in south park to chill without anyone bugging you

Que the south park hideout tour with your guide, kenny

Butters

He knows how important it is to have someone to listen

He’ll listen to you vent even if he has no idea what you’re talking about

“And they said WHAT?! That’s ridiculous!”

Getting ice cream and sitting on the deck for hours just complaining about everything

He somehow puts a positive spin on every situation no matter how bad

You always leave feeling lighter than before

Another hugger

Always giving a good hug before you guys part ways

He’ll send you funny videos after you’re both home and text you that you can talk to him whenever you need

Checks in if he hasn’t talked to you for a few days to see how you’re doing

#i hope this helps anon!!#south park #south park x reader #corporatefrog #butters stotch #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #south park headcanons

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tf2-blu-ghosty · 2 months

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Oh! Hello there

My name is Roh, it’s quite a pleasure to meet you.

I ask that you please be patient with me, I’m not exactly up to date on how things work in this age.

I suppose I should tell you a few things about me.

Well, I was born in Britain and I am a member of the BLU team.

I am very interested in insects and astronomy.

Oh, and the Engineer told me to say my pronouns are he/they, whatever that means.

If you have any questions then feel free to ask, I will be glad to answer.

Tags:

Basic interactions- #Roh interactions

Answering asks- #Office is open

Comfort- #Therapy session

Reminders to take care of yourself- #Roh cares

[ooc below the cut]

Hey everyone, I have created another blog for my oc. If you have any questions about the story of the character then feel free to ask me directly at @iaminyourbones or just sending an ask to this blog.

Btw his name is pronounced like “row”

My pfp is a slightly edited picture of a picrew made by:

All I did was colored in the eye and removed one earring, everything else belongs to them.

Feel free to vent to Roh at any time, I’ll be happy to listen and help

#tf2 #tf2 oc #tf2 ocs #tf2 oc askblog #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 ask blog

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thatsadbietch · 1 year

Text

Critical Hit

Tickletober Day 4: Weak Spots

Yes, I am severely late. No, I will not be taking comments on it at this time. I would rather post something I'm satisfied with late than something half-assed on time. You all and I both deserve the best <3

Ryuji is tasked with leading the next Phantom Thieves' training session. Leave it to him to work in time to pick on his favorite Joker and teach something worthwhile!

Warning: Of course, tickles, and some curses.

“Joker, watch out!” Skull cried, deflecting an oncoming attack toward his leader, who had been occupied with another enemy. The attack was directed back toward the Shadow that cast it, defeating it instantly.

“Nice job, Skull,” Joker praised, finishing off his own target. The Phantom Thieves were surrounded, but not critically so; a group of lower-level Shadows had managed to get the jump on the gang. Even so, this was far from the Thieves’ first rodeo, having made several trips to Mementos, both in search of their favorite non-feline’s past and to help the citizens of Tokyo whose Shadows have become too strong.

“Truly art in motion,” Yusuke, aka Fox, commented. He, Skull, and Joker have been tasked to search a section of Mementos while Panther, Queen, and Mona search another section, having Oracle be the go-between for communications.

“Skull, your form and approach have quite changed for the better. Perhaps I can attend your and Joker’s next training session? Surely there’s much I can learn,” he asked sincerely. Skull snickered, throwing a knowing glare at his leader.

“I’m cool with you tagging along, but it’s up to the mighty leader over here. Not sure if he could handle both of us.” Joker rolled his eyes as his friend hinted at the mischief that unfolded last time.

“Yes, Fox, I think that’s a good call. And since Skull is so eager for you to join he shouldn’t mind planning our next training session.” That wiped Ryuji’s grin away.

“What?”

“Yeah, you did really well last time. And it would be beneficial for someone else to be able to lead training sessions, just in case.” Ryuji thought for a minute before nodding slowly.

“...Yeah, I can do it, no worries.” Ren smiled.

“Good, can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

“Nor can I,” Fox chimed in, “I’m looking forward to it.”

They agreed on meeting in a week’s time, when the field and track would be free and clear again. It seemed like the dialogue in Ryuji’s head went from “I’ve got a week, no big deal” to “CRAP, I have to have this ready in a few hours!” in the blink of an eye, and he still had no idea on how to lead a training session. He sat alone in the library, which was a rare sight in itself, but he knew he needed to step up.

“Come on,” he mentally prompted, “just plan training time. An hour, maybe ninety minutes. You can do this.”

“Ryuji?” The electric blonde jumped out of his skin with a shrill noise of surprise, earning him a “Shh!” from the other students. He turned quickly and saw his student council president and Queen to Mementos. Makoto sat across from him.

“I’m surprised to see you here. You looked like you were struggling, though. Anything I can help with?”

“Uh… Yeah, actually. But I really can’t talk about it here. It’s about practice,” Ryuji emphasized and gave her a look, hoping she’d take the hint. She stood, as if to say “received,” but actually said, “Of course. We can use the student council room. Our meeting just ended, so no one’s in there right now.”

They walked to the now empty classroom where student council meetings are held, and Ryuji explained the situation to Makoto. She listened intently, already forming several solutions but not wanting to miss any details.

“He just sprung it on me. And in front of Fox, how could I say “no”?” Her strategizing mind realized he was venting now, and she smiled at him.

“He trusts you, Ryuji. And he wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you could handle it.”

“...you think so?”

“Absolutely! You’re his best friend, you don’t need me to tell you that.” Ryuji reflected on it and smiled, but in an instant grew panicked again.

“Wait! Aren’t you and Ann going too?!”

“Shhh! Ren and I already discussed that,” she started, keeping her voice low despite the privacy of the classroom, “it might be best to keep up appearances as much as possible. Meaning getting together in a big group all of a sudden might seem suspicious. She and I have separate training days until we figure out something else.”

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense. That’s why he’s the Leader, I guess.” Ryuji couldn’t help but be relieved; he enjoyed having Ann and Makoto on the team, but the less people at his first led training session, the better.

“So, as for your session,” Makoto started, “Always start any physical training with a warm up. It’ll help keep you from getting sore, and will help with performance during the training.” Ryuji was scribbling madly in his notebook, as if she were sharing answers to a final exam.

“Next, you need to pick the focus of your session. What did Ren do during your last session?” Ryuji shrugged.

“Ran and sparred, mostly.” Makoto looked blankly for a moment, and as if on cue Ryuji added, “Oh! He went over “observing and adapting,” saying stuff like how just charging at Shadows wasn’t always going to work. Which I still don’t know if I buy it, but his way worked, too.” Makoto sighed at his impulsivity, but continued.

“So he focused on refining a skill. You can do that. Or, you can try teaching something that you specialize in.”

“Well…” Ryuji thought, “I am pretty good at knocking down some Shadows with one hit.”

“So you’re good at finding their weakest points, and using them to your advantage?” Makoto asked. Ryuji’s eyes started to light up.

“Yeah… I can show them how I do that! Thank you, Makoto!” He suddenly stood and hugged her, running out of the classroom and not stopping until he reached the track field.

“I wonder how he’s going to teach that.”

**************************************************

“How the heck am I supposed to teach this?!” Ryuji exclaimed in his head, pacing the track while waiting on his two trainees. He didn’t have to wait long though, as he could see Ren leading Yusuke in his direction, both changed in athletic wear and ready to start.

“Hello, leader-for-today,” Ren started, “I’ve been wondering what you’ve come up with.”

“As have I,” Yusuke chimed in, “I hope to be better equipped to handle Shadows, and to gain some artistic inspiration. Seeing Joker take the lead is inspiring in itself, but you surely will offer a unique perspective,” Though Yusuke’s intentions were pure, Ryuji took this as “the pressure’s on,” and became a bit more visibly nervous.

“Uh… Yeah… totally… WARM UP!” he shouted, suddenly remembering Makoto’s advice and recognizing a way to dodge the inevitable for at least a few more minutes.

“Right! We can’t train well without a warm up! Let’s jog a few laps and stretch!” The two looked a bit confused, but did as they were told while Ryuji led the jog and stretches.

“Ryuji, are we ready to get started on the lesson?” Ren asked gently, starting to realize the task had given his second-in-command much more stress than he thought. Ryuji finally sighed.

“Okay, I wanted to show you guys how I land critical hits on Shadows, but we aren’t in Mementos and I know we don’t usually go without the others just in case something happens and I couldn’t think of anything else to do and-”

“Ryuji,” Ren put a hand on his shoulder, and it worked as if it functioned as a “pause” button.

“That’s a great skill to learn! And we don’t have to be in Mementos; I’ll be the Shadow so Yusuke can observe.”

“O-Oh, okay… Yeah! Thanks, dude!” Ryuji regained every bit of his energy and excitement, causing Ren to chuckle fondly and Yusuke to wonder how Ryuji functions so well against enemies while his train of thought was all over the place.

“I suppose that’s what I’m here to learn” he thought, watching Ryuiji and Ren take opposing stances.

“Okay, um… Ren?” his ravenette friend smiled at him.

“Just do what comes naturally when you’re fighting. Try to narrate it.”

“So,” Ryuji started, “There’s a Shadow in front of you, Yusuke. What do you notice about his stance?”

“Well, he’s grounded. And he has one arm toward his face, and the other at his torso.”

“Right. And that’s pretty normal for us: to protect our faces and middles, where our organs are,” Ryuji explained. Ren and Yusuke were shocked at Ryuji’s knowledge on the subject, and how well he was teaching it. Ryuji was even surprising himself, although he was only doing as Ren said, narrating his instincts.

“Every Shadow is going to have different areas they want to protect. They don’t have organs and some might not even have faces, who knows. But they’re weak somewhere, and their defensive stance will usually tell you where.”

“What about our Personas?” Yusuke asked, “They seem to have abilities that work well against certain Shadows, and not with others.” Ryuji blanked, he hadn’t really thought about that part.

“Excellent question, but let’s focus on the basics for now,” Ren saved, “Queen and I were actually discussing this earlier, and are working with Oracle on compiling a list of Shadow’s we’ve faced and what their strengths and weaknesses are.” Though it appeared to just be the three here, Ren wanted to remain vigilant in keeping the other members’ identities safe.

“I see, thank you. My apologies, Ryuji, please continue.”

“Yeah dude, totally ask questions!” He faced Ren again. “Now, come at me like you’re going to attack. Slow-mo, though.” Ren nodded, seeing where Ryuji was taking this part. He motioned a running start, and a punch with his right hand, the one originally blocking his torso.

“Stop,” Ryuji instructed. Ren froze in his position, right arm extended in a mock blow to Ryuji’s jaw.

“Now, I can do three things. Since I was in my own defensive stance, I can block with this arm,” motioning his left, protecting his face, “I can take his wrist and fling him behind me using his own force,” again, the both of them demonstrating what that would look like, “or, what I’m showing you guys, I can take this as an opportunity. Yusuke, what’s changed about his position?”

“Well, in order to make an attack, he was forced to uncover a weak point he was previously protecting.” Ryuji beamed.

“Exactly! You can’t do both. See,” Ryuji demonstrated, taking his pointer finger and tracing from Ren’s ribs to his hip bones. “His weak points are wide open now.” Ren inhaled sharply and winced. Ryuji looked to him, suddenly smug.

“And I do mean his weak points.” As a leader, he was proud that Ryuji picked up on small cues that could give him an edge. However, he wasn’t the acting leader right now, so as his friend he’d hoped it would go unnoticed. Yusuke hadn’t paid the brief interaction any mind, as he was more focused on the lesson at hand. Ryuji returned to his original position, to the moment just before he would have been struck by his opponent.

“So,” he continued nonchalantly, “since we decided to attack, I see him coming toward me with this opening, I’m going to dodge, and strike.” Ryuji swerved his body under Ren’s extended arm, and instead of a mock strike, latched onto Ren’s side and squeezed. Yusuke would have had to be blind and deaf to miss Ren’s reaction this time, as he squealed and recoiled from the surprise attack.

“AH! Ryuhohoji!”

“...What’s going on?” Yusuke asked, as much confused as he was amused.

“Just a demonstration,” Ryuji replied with a snicker before releasing Ren. “I think you should give it a try. Ren, you’re the Shadow again.”

“Greheat,” he replied as Ryuji and Yusuke switched places. Yusuke had a gleam in his eyes too similar to Ryuji’s to be considered “comfortable” to the Joker.

“All right, Ren, slowly. Yusuke, get ready.” Ryuji prompted. Ren exhaled, moving slowly for Yusuke’s sake. It was his job, after all, to teach his team. And surely Yusuke is serious about his training, as to not be tempted by such juvenile tactics-

“BWAH! Hehehehey! YUSUKEHEHEHE!” Yusuke did appear very serious in his training; so much so he adopted two strategies. As Joker came with his slow swing, Yusuke grabbed his wrist with his right hand. With his left, Yusuke latched onto the Joker’s ribs, noticing a much stronger reaction to his grip than Ryuji’s.

“Lehehehet go, Yusuke! Yohohou got me!” However, the artist chuckled and held firm to his “opponent’s” wrist.

“Have I done it correctly, Ryuji?” The blonde couldn’t believe what he was witnessing, and in the best way. He cackled wickedly.

“I couldn’t have done better myself. But he doesn’t look totally defeated.” Ren, still giggling against Yusuke’s ticklish grip, noticed Ryuji approaching.

“Stahahahay awahehey, Ryuji!” Ren threatened, trying with more desperation to break himself free from Yusuke. However, in response Ryuji snatched his other wrist. His giggles were already becoming more frantic, knowing how screwed he was with both of them playing this game.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Ren,” Yusuke noted, “It’s like witnessing a whole other part of you.”

“You are, dude. This, you see, is “nearly defeated” Ren.” Ryuji explained as if we were now the expert in Ren’s weaknesses. Which, in the context of which tickle spots can get Ren to buckle, he just might be the expert, Sojiro being a close second.

“I see. Are you telling me he has weaker points?” Yusuke said, still sounding like a student but adopted the smug smirk and mischievous gleam of a tormentor.

“Juuhuhust get ohohon with it!” Ren pleaded. Why were they taking so long? And talking about him like he wasn’t even there?

“Quiet, you, I’m teaching, just like you asked,” With that, Ryuji swiped his fingers along Ren’s collarbone and neck with his free hand. The raven-haired boy scrunched his shoulders up and sweet giggles bubbled forward. Yusuke would not have believed this boy, adorable in his mirthful state, was in charge of the vengeful Phantom Thieves, if he were not there in the flesh to see for himself.

“Such a sweet sound, and a precious expression to accompany it. I had not expected to find such inspiration from mere child’s play.”

Ren didn’t really have a response; he didn’t think he would serve as inspiration in this state either. Other than inspiration for Ryuji to continue leading him to his ticklish demise.

“Yeah yeah, he’s cute, we get it,” Ryuji said, and blushed himself a bit at the remark. “Here, give me that.” He took Ren’s other wrist from Yusuke and pinned both over his head.

“Now see, you’ve found your target’s weaker areas. Deliver a critical hit.” His instructions came out malicious, and Yusuke’s look of adoration turned back to sinister.

“Y-Yusuke! You don’t have to do it! You already got me, and you picked it up really quick!”

“Yusuke, you remember when we fight Shadows how they sometimes beg to be spared?” Ryuji intervened, “Well, this is one of those times. Since Ren’s right and you did get it on the first try, it’s your call. Mercy, or finish him?” Yusuke looked at his now pitiful leader, and almost felt bad for him. However, he realized this was an effect Ren tended to have on people. He comes off pretty innocent or unassuming, but Yusuke has seen first hand what he’s actually capable of.

“How will I know if he’s “defeated”?

“Yusuke!” “Oho, trust me, he’ll tell you!” Ryuji said. Ren felt his grip tighten on his wrists as he helplessly watched Yusuke approach him, claws formed with his hands.

“Y-Yusukehehe, nohoho, dohohon’t-NAHAHAHA!” Ren begged, but it fell on deaf ears as Yusuke descended his claw-like fingers into the hollows of Ren’s underarms, skittering up and down his tricep. Ren tried vehemently, but failed to bring his arms down and out of Ryuji’s grip, who he could hear snickering under his own cackling.

“RYUJIHEHEHE you JERK!” he spat.

“You know, we don’t take crap from Shadows, do we, Yusuke?”

“Definitely not. This heathen needs to learn his manners.” Ryuji was absolutely ecstatic that Yusuke was seamlessly playing along as he shifted gears, drumming on Ren’s ribs like he would a piano.

“Do you know how many ribs you have, Joker?”

“YEHEHES!”

“How many?”

“TWEHEHENTY-FFFFAHAHA!”

“PFFT!” He might have been trying to say twenty-four, if not for Ryuji throwing in a raspberry to the crook of the Joker’s neck. He could (barely) handle Yusuke prodding at his ribs or Ryuji’s raspberries to the neck, but both?

“Well, if you don’t know, I’ll have to show you.” Yusuke stated simply, starting with his bottom two.

“THAHAHAT’S NOT FAHAHAHAIR! YUSUKE!”

Ryuji laughed wickedly at his best friend’s expense, unknowing beforehand that Yusuke could be so cruel. He wasn’t sure if Yusuke could tell, but amongst the loud belly laughter and rib-counting, Ren was starting to buckle the farther up his ribs Yusuke’s wiggling fingers traveled.

“Hey, Yusuke,” Ryuji said. He almost had to raise his voice to be heard over the ravenette’s boisterous laughter. He halted immediately, and Ren took the gracious opportunity to catch his breath.

“Be ready when you get to twenty-three and twenty-four. That’s our Joker’s weakest spot.”

“I started to believe he himself was a weak spot.”

“Screhehew you bohohoth,” Ren replied, bracing himself.

“Is that really any way to talk to your pupils?” Yusuke asked, catching Ren off-guard by kneading into his belly. It was firm from consistent training, but still was quaking from all the giggle fits it helped produce. Ren threw his head back onto Ryuji’s shoulder in a surprised guffaw, nearly head-butting his nose.

“H-hey, easy dude!”

“I-ihihi’m sorrihehehe!” Ren cried, putting in more effort to hold himself up.

“Here, Yusuke, follow me,” Ryuji instructed. They led Ren to the ground, Ryuji still holding his wrists but allowing his head to rest in his lap rather than the ground. Yusuke straddled his waist.

“I suppose this Shadow’s had quite the battle,” Yusuke observed, noticing the streaks of mirthful tears on his leader’s pink face. “I’ll waste no more time then!”

“Any last words, Shadow?” Ryuji teased. Ren offered one more futile tug to his wrists and took a deep breath.

“Do your worst. Because you two are dead.”

“Tch, as if,” Ryuji played off, ignoring the slight chill down his spine.

“Bold words in the face of your demise,” Yusuke noted, also feeling a tinge of nervousness, but wasted no more time and drilled his thumbs in the topmost ribs on either side. The same leader daring enough to make such a claim in his position positively howled as his most ticklish spot was exploited.

“YUSUKEHEHEHE!” Ren bucked and kicked at the space behind them, but to no avail as far as stopping the maddening sensations playing at his ribs.

“This Shadow’s done for!” Ryuji exclaimed, then laughing along as if Ren’s giggles were truly contagious.

“It’s almost as if, once you know how to deliver a critical hit, the Shadow is not as menacing,” Yusuke teased, switching from drilling to vibrating his fingertips along the length of ribs twenty-three and twenty four.

“JUHUHUHUST YOHOU WAIHIHIT! BWAHAHAHA!” Joker cackled, somehow still delivering threats. His booming laughter soon grew silent, and he became too weak to struggle.

“All right, all right, I think he’s had enough,” Ryuji warned. As cruel of a tickler as he was (which Ryuji made a mental note of), Yusuke stopped within the same second he was asked to do so, not wanting to abuse the trust he’d been given. Ryuji released Ren’s wrists, though his arms remained limp above his head while he caught his breath, which occasionally hitched in leftover chuckles.

“Are you all right, Ren?” Yusuke asked, now concerned. But Ren chuckled, of his own accord this time.

“Yeah, heh, I’m okay.” Ren looked up at Ryuji, since his head was still in his lap.

“If this is how you plan on leading training sessions, you’re fired.”

“What?! No! At least, not every time,” he grinned, still full of mischief, “Gotta keep you on your toes, Joker.”

“And I yours. Yours too, Yusuke. You won’t know when, you won’t know where-”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, fearful leader, so scary,” Ryuji brushed off.

“...Let’s instead get some water and continue training? Actually training this time?” Yusuke suggested, as he and his eccentric blonde partner in crime helped their leader up. While the rest of the training went as planned with no more antics, Yusuke and Ryuji couldn’t help the nagging feeling their Joker was not about to forget this any time soon.

#tickle #tickle fic #tickle community #ticklefic #tickle fanfic #tickletober #augtickletober2023 #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #ticklish!ren #ticklish!akira #ryuji sakamoto #yusuke kitagawa #ren amamiya #ler!yusuke #ler!ryuji

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honorary-knight-of-favonius · 2 years

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Kinktober Baizhu -Day Twenty Nine-

Tags for the day: CNC (Consent Non-Consensual) and Lingerie

Summary: In desperate need for another model after one ditched and left you high and dry you ask your coordinator to provide some much needed assistance in exchange for a want of his.

I was so close to smashing my camera into the ground at the sheer audacity this prick had! After pestering me to make him a model he ditches his very first session! I was fuming and if not for my darling coordinator I really would’ve smashed my camera.

“Y/n, maybe it’s time to sit down.” I began venting as the green haired male led me to a seat and sat me down. While I ranted, the male played with my hair and massaged my shoulders, “Yes, yes, I totally understand the disrespect he showed you.” I was going to throw my camera but as I raised it Baizhu snatched it and replaced it with a pillow.

“Y/n, I know he was so disrespectful. It’s alright, Baizhu’s here.” The male hugged me tightly to his body, petting my head, shushing me as if I were a four year old which is surprisingly effective, “We’ll schedule another model alright?”

“B-but I can’t! If I postpone this session then the new line doesn’t launch and that puts everything back and if it puts everything back then I’ll get lazy and won’t end up-” The green haired male lifted my head to look at his body and his hair that was covering us.

“Y/n, the moment you freak out everyone else does. You need to take some deep breaths. Remember you never once allowed things to go south, use that big brain of yours.” I did as told and pulled the man into a hug snuggling into his chest.

“You’re the best Baizhu.” I smiled as I let go and stood up thinking. . .I quickly scanned the area not finding anything but my already finished models. I needed someone that would make the black white and coral lingerie, I continued and when I looked towards the green haired male’s back I smiled and hurried to him.

“Did you solve your problem?” He asked.

“Will you model for me?” I asked, Baizhu gave me a dead look.

“No.”

“Please!!” I begged.

“N-”

“I’ll give you 5,000 right after out of my own pocket!” I say, Baizhu sighed and looked at me in disbelief.

“Why me? Can’t you have someone else do it?” I shook my head, “Why not?”

“Because none of them will do them justice.” The male sighed and grabbed his office and my collar before dragging me to the dressing room which had been abandoned some time ago.

“You better fuck me good on that set.” I smiled. Baizhu and I we’re very much in a relationship despite him not liking it publicly. Whenever I bring up money and then say ‘out of my pocket’ or something like that it means I will do anything anywhere he wants. I don’t use this often but now was the perfect time to use it, Baizhu had always wanted to be fucked while being photographed or recorded on my personal camera and I had to admit the idea appealed to me to. But considering our schedules it never worked until now as the boy was not only free today but it was date night.

Thankfully the photo session went without any issue to Baizhu. The very last outfit I had to photograph was causing a rather obvious ache between my legs. Baizhu’s skin was a very milky color, making the flora black lingerie he was wearing stand out. In all honesty if his outfit wasn’t covering his cock I would’ve pounced on him. He looked ethereal, his green hair was put in a ponytail and was flowing over one of his shoulders. I silently thanked myself for asking Baizhu to model for me, otherwise I would’ve never seen such a sight in my life. It was regrettable that his body was also being looked at by the staff in the store. I snapped myself out of the trance I was put in and aimed the camera at Baizhu, having him smirk and pose in a position he knew I loved.

Baizhu was sitting on a pedestal and holding his hand out as if I was going to kiss it. God I loved worshiping this god-like man. He continued the theme of posing in positions I loved finding myself in when we were in the bedroom. By the end of the session I was absolutely drenched and I went to ‘edit’ the photos while actually admiring Baizhu as everyone else packed up and left. I ran my fingers through my hair one of the many photos I took for mainly just me was a series of pictures with Baizhu in that alluring outfit with a button up sliding off his shoulders.

Many of the poses he was in were more on the femineie side but I know he didn’t mind. While I was ��editing’ Baizhu hugged me from behind and peppered kisses on my neck.

“I said goodbye to everyone, the store was shut down and the cameras are off. . .for now.” I could feel him wiggle in anticipation as he whispered in my ear, “Is that me?” Baizhu stood up letting go of me and hurried to look at his own picture.

“Yes?” I say puzzledly, “Is something wrong with it?” I asked

“I. . .I-” Baizhu suddenly shook his head and straddled my lap, “I can’t believe you were too busy admiring a photo when the real thing is right here.” I chuckled. I grabbed his hips with one hand and the other pulled him closer by the neck.

“Shall we head to set?” Baizhu whined not wanting to get up and move so I hurried and picked him up, placing him back on the pedestal. I grabbed his hips and hovered over him, planting some kisses on his neck when he swiftly stopped me, “Is something wrong Zhu?” I asked

“M-Model and Photographer. . .C-CnC. . . .” He mumbled, I kissed his neck once more before pulling away.

“With pictures to boot?” I asked, He shyly nodded and I kissed him before leaving the set taking my camera and going back to the set and began asking for much more lewd and provocative poses having Baizhu do every single one of them until I asked him to go on his knees and look up at the camera when he did I grabbed him throat having him whimper.

“Such a fantastic model, I’m surprised you're not booked more.” I said finally not being able to handle the increasingly slick feeling between my thighs as I placed the camera on a table close by. I managed to push Baizhu to the floor as he began to squirm and protest my actions.

“N-No~ P-Please. I-I don’t want this!” He cried as I shushed him,

“It’s alright dear, I’ll be gentle.” Bauzhu began kicking trying to ‘get me off’ of him but as I freed his aching hard cock I smirked letting the squirmy boy use my fist to satisfy himself.

“P-Please~ I -I really. . .Please~” I loosened my grip and Baizhu grabbed my wrist forcing my hand off of his neck and he sat up with a glare, “Put that goddamn hand back on my cock and let me fuck it until I’m rubbed raw.” I smiled and did as told, baizhu instantly put my hand back around his throat and proceeded with the useless, ‘no’s’ and ‘please stop’ finalized by the ‘I don’t want this’. Despite the scene Baizhu was truly controlling this scene, and for the first time in ages he broke character after being denied access to my cunt.

“F-fuck, I-I need you not that damn hand but you! Please please please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so fucking good just please- L-Let me fuck that warm cunt! P-please~” I chuckled and swiftly undressed myself right as Baizhu saw my unclothed cunt he pounced on me.

“Y-You are so annoying!” He whined, I raised a brow, “You purposefully did that! You purposefully loosened your grip and teased me so I would take over!” I giggled and hugged his neck.

“Come on, our model is just. . .getting his revenge.” I smirked, Baizhu sighed, lowering himself and teasingly rubbing against my throbbing area as he whispered.

“You must really be turned on if you want to flip our roles like this.” I hummed, “Same rules?” I nodded. the boy growled into my ear, “This is for playing with my cock!” As he said those words I felt the welcome intrusion in my cunt. I tried to tighten my hug but within a few measly seconds Baizhu had pulled out and flipped us over to have my ass in the air and use my arms as leverage to go deeper into me.

“You didn’t even get me to cum while using your goddamn hands so now I’m taking the orgasm I have earned!” I arched my back as I felt the pleasurable pain of Baizhu’s fucking. I was already at my peak when my hands began to open and close rapidly signaling to Baizhu I needed to hold his hand.

“F-fuck I’m close.” He grunted, Baizhu knew to go over that edge I needed to hold his hand lovingly, I never knew why but Baizhu fucking me without holding my hand meant he didn’t want me to come yet. I needed Baizhu to let me cum.

“Z-zhu! P-please~ I-It hurts! Please Zhu!” I cried, and Baizhu shushed me sweetly.

“A few more seconds darling, just a few more.” As those seconds passed it felt like minutes to me. But the moment Baizhu released my wrist and laid against my back taking my hands into his as he pushed me over the edge and my body began to twitch in glee.

“Maybe I should model your designs more often.” Baizhu sighed.

“P-Please take that one home. . .” He chuckled and slipped out of me and began to pepper kisses on my neck and shoulders before helping to sit on my ass and holding me in his arms on the floor.

“I’m off next weekend should we do a fashion show with your designs.” He asked if I smiled like an idiot nodding before falling asleep in his arms.

Taglist:

@stygianoir @yunadxd

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #sub!genshin #genshin impact #kinktober #sub!genshin impact #dom!reader #sub!baizhu #Favonian Archive

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biscuitsngravie · 1 year

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Closer

Choso x Reader Shotgunning fic, suggestive

wc: 2112

You giggle to yourself as you scroll through yet another TikTok video on the couch. As you adjust to fold your legs behind you, it welcomes your movement, hugging you close in its plushness. Every time you sit in it feels like the first time, the smooth velvet feeling just as new as the day it arrived. On the occasion you kick your past self in the ass for arguing with Choso about it being “too much,” to which he interpreted as a criticism on the style and not the price tag that had more numbers on it than a lottery ticket. Though nowadays you happily indulge in every luxury offered to you without hesitation at all.

“Breaking news—” you scroll past the video without much of a thought. Everything is “breaking news,” these days, and the range is vast. Either a dog found a lost child or another life-altering tragedy has struck the masses, and your mental health cannot take the risk right now. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen. He’s late again. A large exhale accompanies a small stretch as you settle back into position, preparing yourself for the—

“Hey, I’m home.”

Fuck.

“Hey, bae!” you call back, trying to act casual. “How was work?” time travel doesn’t exist. It can’t, because if it did, you would’ve traveled back in time to kick your own ass before asking that stupid ass question.

Work was shit. It’s been shit for the past few weeks. You both knew that exceptionally well which is why you haven’t asked about it in a while. It’s either unhelpful, noncommittal grunts or the inevitable venting and occasional crying session. You’d never shame him for expressing his feelings, quite honestly you appreciate it. But with recent events, it’s the equivalent of someone asking if you’re fine on a day you are most definitely, absolutely, positutely not.

Though it does make you happy that he’s comfortable letting his walls down around you. For the most part anyway. To be quite fair, you’re not sure if he has the capacity for them sometimes. While most relationships must cross the hurdle of trusting and learning, Choso’s issue has often been “being.”

He’s lived as a curse for over a hundred and fifty years. It’s unfathomable to you how the transition to personhood would even begin. Wikihow holds many things, but a tutorial on that, it does not. While you both understand that separating his being so starkly between the two components of his being is not ideal, it’s still endearing to see him engage in his more human nature.

With that it’s been feeling emotions beyond the protectiveness and care he has for his brothers, understanding its complexities and the nuances of it all. It’s been learning how to put it in words and understanding that not all of them can be. It’s been a series of you doing your best to explain to him why certain things made you feel the way you did, and why others did not invoke much emotion at all. It’s so much for something you’ve never had to think much about at all, but seeing him try is something that captures your heart every time.

You reach over to the side table on your right, opening the small compartment to pull out the emotion card pack. It has ones that start on basics like, “happy, mad, sad,” and so on, and progressively addresses more complex ones. It’s been very useful these past few weeks.

You can hear his boots hitting the ground with thuds you can lightly feel through the flooring. He’s mad. Really mad.

The shoes hit the ground in carelessness. He stands in the archway at the entrance of the house, while you await quietly in the sitting room. Though every movement is amplified in volume as it bounces off the ridiculously high ceilings. You can hear him take off his outer coat, unzipping it carelessly and hearing the zipper jangle as he tosses it to the ground. His footsteps become a lot quieter as he finally joins you. Wordless.

“Hey,” you try again, your voice soft and inviting. You put your phone down and get up to wrap your arms around him. He puts his hand out to stop you, and you quickly sit back down. He doesn’t even look in your direction as he makes his way to the wing chair to the left of the couch you’re in, plopping down in his full weight.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer carefully.

“You got a blunt?” he asks, glancing at the side table near his seat.

Oh he’s mad mad.

“I can roll one for you.” a grunt of approval is all you need before you get everything out. Though the initial hand in your face used to have you briefly wonder who he thought he was in the past, after hearing what went on in the personal wreck room you two shared, you began to understand that this was only for your protection.

As you fill the grinder you can’t help but wonder what transpired. Part of you is curious as to what would put him in this foul of a mood, but another part of you wants to give him the space until he’s ready. Since embracing his more human side, getting a job was a little… difficult to say the least. After a few failed attempts at customer service, he eventually decided to go into the world of jujutsu sorcery.

Sometimes you wonder if it was a mistake.

First was the issue of his classification. Was he a curse? A sorcerer? An abomination? Both of you hated that he had to “choose.” Neither of you brought up his youngest brother, but wondered if he’d had a similar upbringing if anyone would ask him questions like these at all.

Next was the issue of the workplace and workload. He often went out on missions on his own as a special grade… something. This was mostly fine, but on the occasional pairing or team assignment, “less refined,” sorcerers you’d say, would make all their reservations about him known. They’d shamelessly inquire about things you couldn’t fathom asking of anyone, all while cowering behind him when shit hit the fan.

The conversation on how he feels “exorcising” cursed spirits for a living was left between him and his therapist.

It was days like these that left him in the foul mood he’s in right now.

As you go through with wrapping up, you see him take his ponytails out, making your heart skip a beat. You shamelessly oggle him as he removes his vest and drops it on the floor beside him. He then takes his upper half out of the robe and leans back a bit, sighing. You trace his body with your eyes, going over every rise and divot of his abdomen and chest. His hands swallow the ends of the armrests and you’re just imagining them around your—

“You done?”

“Huh?”

“If you can ‘huh’ you can hear,” he says flatly, head thrown back. He spreads his legs to get more comfortable. He flips one hand palm up, waiting.

Choso is kind. Choso is sweet. He is gentle and he is patient. He’s also hot as fuck when he is not.

You will yourself to focus, placing the blunt in his hand when you’re done. It almost looks comically small. Once he holds it properly you light it and sit back down on the couch. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

You watch the end light up as he takes a drag, his chest slowly rising and falling as he does. You sigh to yourself as you really mentally punish yourself for all of the unhinged thoughts that are racing through your head right now. Hell, speaking of head—

“Did you see the news?”

“Hm?” you perk up and away from your delusions.

“You heard me.”

Your chest starts to heat up. “Uh, no. Did it—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupts before taking another long drag. He puffs out small circles to entertain himself before blowing the rest out his nose. He’s quiet like that for a bit, slowly coming down as he reaches his high.

Once you realize your own breaths have become short, you decide to stop being such a whore and go back to watching your For You Page. You don’t get two videos in before he connects his own phone to the surround sound system, just loud enough for you to not hear your own phone. You sigh in slight annoyance and get up to go get your earbuds.

As you return you see him facing forward now, hair caging his face. Through his strands you can see his blood mark now extending down his face, points extending from the lines like barbed wire. Something inside of you cowers ever so slightly — not in fear, but as a natural reaction once realizing you’re prey.

He points in between his legs without a word, his head hung low as he looks up at you ever so slightly. Your legs obey him almost instinctively before you can think about it, placing you gingerly between his thighs. You seiza style, looking up at him. If your heart weren’t so loud in your ears you’d be able to hear the lyrics of the song that’s just started.

You let me violate you.

A smirk tugs at his lips briefly before letting his face drop back down. He runs his hand down the side of your face, his callouses feel almost featherlight the way he’s touching you. His hand trails down to your shoulder, playing with your spaghetti strap top. He snaps it against you once. Twice.

You let me desecrate you.

He blatantly oggles your chest for a moment. You can see the gears turning in his head and try to even your breathing, feeling your head fill with fantasies of your own.

You let me penetrate you.

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but he slightly shifts after that line, his thighs tensing ever so slightly. You keep your hands in your lap as you wait, trying not to bite your lip to give away your anticipation.

You let me complicate you.

He brings his hand back up to your hair, massaging your scalp through short, coily hair. You’d recently gotten a summer cut and he couldn’t seem to ever keep his hands out of it. It feels soothing enough though, causing you to lean into his touch. You let out a soft moan as if to disguise it as being conjured from the innocent touch and not the mess happening in your underwear right now. Your eyes close to let you focus on the sensation, or rather, many sensations.

He gets closer, caging you between his thighs just a bit. His fingers entangle themselves in your hair and guide your head’s movements, causing you to open your eyes. You can feel your nails dig into your palms as you try to resist grabbing him right then and there. He hasn’t closed the distance between you two, but his presence is almost overwhelming.

He scrunches his nose to sniffle for a moment before saying a single word. “Open.”

By now your nipples are definitely poking through your shirt, throbbing and need for attention, as well as other parts of you. You shift a little to get even the slightest bit of friction to no avail, and listen without question. You open your mouth and watch as he takes another drag before bringing his face ever so slightly closer. Not close enough in your opinion. He pulls your head back and blows the smoke into mouth, nice and slow. With a brief view before he brings you all the way back, you catch his hooded eyes and nearly moan at the sight. You sit still and take it all in, swearing the warmth is from the smoke and not the primal desire you have for him.

I wanna fuck you like an animal.

He pulls your head down and gives a noncommittal chuckle with a fleeting smirk, only to return to his default “bored” looking expression. “Good.”

I wanna feel you from the inside.

He leans back in his chair, bringing the blunt to his lips again. “Choso—”

I wanna fuck you like an animal.

He brings his hand up to stop you before you finish.

My whole existence is flawed.

He pats his lap — an invitation you desperately take, already feeling that he’d been holding back just as much as you with a swelling on his thigh.

You get me closer to god.

-- -- --

this is my second ever character x reader fic, but i like this one wayyyyy better! i hope someone enjoys, it was a lot of fun!

#choso #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #shotgunning #this was supposed to be 500 words what the actual hell lol

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penncilkid · 1 year

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Hi hey hello, it’s PK! Back with another non-canon ship paired with far too many words. Welcome to one of my fic-adjacent ramble sessions! I mentioned it the last time I did one of these, but today, we’re discussing Sam/David— Or Lunar Healing (Yes, I gave them a ship name. I like to have fun /lh). This post will be going over the main timeline I’ve envisioned for these two. However, I have dozens of general ship headcanons as well so if anyone would be interested in seeing those, let me know and I’ll make a sequel post. (Also special shoutout to @cashandprizes, they certainly had some sort of part to play in the creation of this post /lh /pos). Now then, let’s get into this!

Pairing: Sam/David*

Word Count: 3.8 K [Note: If you wanna skip the Inversion stuff near the end, then it’s only 2.5 K]

Content Tags/Warnings: Inversion will be brought up/discussed near the end of this (Specific heads up for mention of blood) // I’ll also be using my listeners’ names at points (Who’s who will be indicated for clarity purposes)

*Maia, my version of Darlin’, is mentioned in this. Additionally, in this version of events, she is dating Milo and Nirav, my version of Sweetheart. (They’re not the focus though)

///

Some quick stats for my version of David and Sam: David is 6’0” and Latino (specifically Colombian) // Sam is 6’3” and Black [Added in case you wanted to know a bit more about my vision]

///

My vision for this pair begins with Fred and Bright’s turning. As mentioned in the timeline, canonically speaking, David inquires about the two newest additions to the Solaire clan. I imagine this plays out in a vaguely similar way as Sam/Darlin’s first canonical meeting. Sam’s doing the whole “get off of our property / who the hell do you think you are?” routine, though he’s internally cursing himself when David introduces who he is. Upon realizing he’s speaking with the Shaw pack alpha, he becomes very formal with David: calling him Mr. Shaw and such, asking if he wants to speak with his clan leader, etc. David explains that he was coming to speak to William himself and that Sam doesn’t need to do anything.

David asks for Sam’s name. Upon realizing who he is, David has to fight the urge to ask more about what happened on Halloween night directly. He’d heard some of the details and assumes William will disclose more, but there’s a part of him that wants to hear it firsthand. Instead, David tells Sam that if he ever needs any assistance given everything going on, he should reach out. David remembers how difficult it was after Gabe passed, and while this is a different situation, he knows how damaging isolation can be. Sam thanks him (out of politeness) before David heads off to meet with Will.

Sam doesn’t take David up on the offer— At least for a while. The main reason why is because from his perspective, he doesn’t want to bother “Mr. Shaw” if he could handle it. He’s been a vampire for well-over a decade, he figures he’ll be fine once the dust settles. But after a particularly rough night looking after Fred and Bright, Sam bites the bullet and calls David. The two end up meeting somewhere with food because David figures food is the easiest way to get people to relax (and because he was hungry). Sam is still guarded when it comes to his venting, not wanting to share too much or put too much of a burden on David. But as the two talk and David offers what reassurance he can, Sam finds it a bit easier to spend time around the alpha.The two of them having one more of these meet ups before they go back to their respective lives, Sam viewing this as nothing more than a “one-off” thing.

Enter: Maia. Now, as mentioned, her timeline leads to a relationship with Milo and Nirav (Sweetheart) rather than with Sam. If she followed canon, she would have gone to Wonderworld in search of Quinn, met Sam, and then reached out to him for healing help after the vampire fight. The way canon diverges here is instead, she goes to Wonderworld looking for Quinn but doesn’t disclose her name or explain why she was searching for him after finding out he’s not there. When she gets into the fight with the vampires, she knows she’s in bad shape and needs help. She bites the bullet and instead shows up on Milo’s doorstep, asking if his partner can heal her while begging him not to tell David she’s back in Dahlia. Milo agrees to hide her return from David only if she explains everything to him and Nirav instead.

Realizing it’s probably not the safest idea to stay at her own place, she begins crashing with Milo and Nirav while continuing her search for Quinn. As she tries to track him down, she ends up reaching back out to Sam, wanting to know what he knows while looking to work together to a certain degree. At this point, the two are acquaintances who have a mutual aversion to the same vamp.

David begins to suspect that Maia is back based on things he’s hearing around Dahlia— Though, he can’t simply confirm based on rumors alone. When he hears that a shifter’s been spotted around Wonderworld a handful of times, David decides to reach out and asks to meet with Sam. It’s been quite some time since the two saw each other one-on-one, but because of the base level of mutual respect (and trust, arguably), David invites Sam to his house for this meeting. Initially, Sam isn’t sure what David is looking to discuss but agrees nonetheless. Upon arriving, Sam finds himself getting distracted by David’s presence. Sure, they’ve seen each other before, talked for hours. But there’s something about being this close to the shifter after so long— David’s hair being a bit messier since he was relaxing at home. The way David’s biceps look on display thanks to the tank top he’s wearing. Or the way the scar on his lip— “Collins?” “Sorry, what were you saying, David?”

David asks Sam if he’s been interacting with a shifter in the recent weeks. When Sam says yes, David begins listing a series of physical traits out— “Do those descriptors apply to the shifter in question?” Sam bites his tongue, cursing inside because he can tell that there’s no good way of answering this. But that hesitation tells David everything he needs to know. He asks Sam if Maia seems safe (relatively speaking as Maia’s definition of safe is far “looser” than David would like). Sam says that he doesn’t know much about what she’s got going on when she’s not around him, but that she seems like she’s doing alright when they speak. David takes this information in before explaining to Sam that he’s not going to interfere— Not yet at least. He wants to wait and see if Maia will disclose her return naturally. In the meantime, Sam should continue doing whatever he sees fit.

After David finishes discussing Maia, Sam gets ready to leave as he figured that was all David wanted— But David stops him. “Sam, I wouldn’t invite you all the way out here for a ten minute conversation. At the very least, I should feed you or something.” Sam tells David that’s not necessary but it takes David insisting once for Sam to fold. As David cooks for Sam, the two strike up a conversation. They talk about various things— How Fred and Bright are doing, how the pack’s doing, personal life updates and such— and it feels reminiscent of those times they spoke with each other months prior. Sam ends up staying for at least another hour or two as they talk. When it’s time for him to go, David tells Sam that he wouldn’t mind making a habit of these talks if Sam is interested. Sam grins and tells David he likes the sound of that.

Something I feel is important to Sam’s characterization is that he takes things slow when it comes to relationships. That’s not to say he doesn’t feel things sooner, but the way in which he acts on those feelings is paced. This in mind, I also 100% see David catching feelings first out of these two. As he and Sam begin regularly spending time with each other, David finds it easier to exist as someone other than the Shaw pack alpha. Meanwhile, Sam’s slowly realizing that David is “Mr. Shaw”— But he’s also “David”, who chastises him for not drinking enough blood or asks what he’s craving despite their shared awareness that Sam doesn’t have to eat. They start seeing new sides of each other as they grow closer, and it’s difficult for David to ignore his growing feelings. (Note: I imagine they spent the Sunbound Solstice together that year as an example. Mentioned because I intend to write a few headcanons about that day)

After this goes on for a while, Sam is eventually invited to a pack meeting. By this point, David has already confronted Maia about her being in Dahlia, what’s been going on with her and Quinn, etc. They’re holding a meeting discussing the situation, and David figures the Solaire Clan deserves to be kept in the loop. After all, Maia and Sam have some level of connection, and two of their own were turned by him. Sure, David could’ve set up another meeting with William to update the clan, but he thinks Sam is just as suitable an option. By this point, Sam and David have become a lot more relaxed with each other compared to the first time they met. But it’s not only in terms of formality (or rather, the lack thereof). There’s something in the way they interact with each other before and after the meeting. The way David watches how his pack interacts with Sam, taking in both the vamp and wolves’ body language. How his gaze softens ever so subtly when he’s speaking with Sam. The flickers of smiles or hushed laughs when they overhear something said by the other. It’s subtle yet impossible to miss.

At the end of the meeting as people are clearing out, Asher stays behind because Beta duties and whatnot. As he walks Sam out with David, he’s taking in their interactions up close. As soon as Sam’s gone, Ash turns to David with a knowing smile. “So. You and Collins, huh~?” David rolls his eyes, “It’s not a big deal.” “So you admit there’s something going on?” “Will you come on so we can get out of here already?” David walks off but Asher’s busy grinning at his best friend regardless.

As Sam continues to become more and more present in David’s life, he begins to internally confront his own feelings. He’s well aware the way he feels about David is far from casual, but he isn’t sure how to go about dealing with those. He feels like him and David have a good thing going, and he doesn’t want to mess that up somehow. For the time being, they continue doing what they’re doing, just without the official label of dating per say. That’s not to say their dynamic doesn’t evolve, though. In public, David still plays it a bit professional/formal with Sam, primarily because of Shaw Security and because he’s still considering how their relationship may be perceived at times. But at a pack meeting? Their attraction is palpable. As soon as he sees Sam arrive at the den and walks over, Sam’s pulling him into a hug tight enough to lift him off the ground a bit. And despite David saying “Alright, alright. That’s enough, Cowboy”, he always pulls Sam into a kiss with a smile that tells you they might as well be the only people in the room. There’s a sense of intimate comfort they share with each other, and it’s something that continues to surprise them both.

Around early December (aka right before Hot Boi Winter begins), David decides he wants to invite Sam to the cabins with the pack. The pack already expects Sam to be there— They’re all more than aware of how close the two are— but David doesn’t want this to just be about the cabins. Sam’s over at David’s place (a frequent occurrence by then) and as they’re laying together, David tells Sam he wants to ask him something. “If this is about the cabins, Asher’s already brought it up—” “Do you want to be my mate, Sam?” They both watch each other for a moment, and inside, David panics a bit. “Nevermind, forget I asked—” “Hey now, hold on a sec, David.” Sam stops David from leaving, holding the shifter’s hand. He apologizes for looking so shell shocked but assures David that it’s only because that wasn’t what he expected him to say. David starts to explain himself more, wanting to make it clear that he understands the question he’s asking. He talks about how much he enjoys any time spent with Sam. How it’s easy to get out of his head when Sam’s around. The way his mind seems to shut off when he feels Sam’s hands on him. All the nights they’ve spent together— Talking about their lives, sharing pieces of their past, comforting each other after difficult days, kissing and holding and loving on each other. “I’ve never had a mate before. I didn’t think that would be a possibility for me when I was appointed alpha. But I do know that being with you feels right. So I wanted to know if you wanted to be that to me too.”

The entire time while David is talking, Sam’s gaze is fixed on the shifter before him. At no point did he ever doubt his feelings for David and vice versa. But to hear David speak so candidly about the way he feels and what he wants is something he didn’t realize he needed. “Ask me again.” “...What?” “Just do it, David.” He can’t help but roll his eyes with a bit of a grin before looking at Sam. “Do you want to be my mate?” Sam kisses David before smiling at him, “It’d be my honor, Mr. Shaw.” David groans at the last part, which makes Sam laugh before they kiss again. When they’re up at the cabins, prior to Sam’s arrival, David mentions that him and Sam are officially mates. Asher swears before handing a very smug looking Milo twenty dollars.

///

To make up for the next section of the timeline, I’m gonna talk pet names real quick: Typically whenever I see speaker/speaker ships, I see people assign what would be the listener's nickname to the other speaker. Now I’ve got no issue with that whatsoever (/gen), it tends to hit. But when I was thinking about Lunar Healing, I was like “Hmm I’m not so sure that would be giving the vibes I need it to give.” As I was discussing this with Lexi, the lovely visionary they are, I was like “I like the idea of David using a Spanish term of endearment for Sam. I’m gonna go with ‘Querido’, but I still need something for Sam to call David.” It was at that moment that Lexi breathed into existence one of the best sentences I’ve ever heard: “Hear me out. I actually like Sam calling David Angel more”

When I picture the first time Sam uses it, David makes a face, brows furrowed. “What? You don't like it?” “It doesn't fit me.” “Now what makes you say that?” “Angels are too good for me to be one. They're sacred beings—” Sam pulls David close so their faces are an inch apart. In a low voice, “You're heaven on earth, David Shaw. You're sacred to me, and I want everyone to know that. That’s why I’m calling you ‘Angel’. Got it?” David has to take a moment to mentally recover and actually come up with a proper response (/pos)

I also like to imagine what outside reactions to the pet name would be like. Like David, Milo, Asher, and Maia are all hanging out to do something, Sam arriving late. When he gets there, he kisses David before saying “I'm sorry I'm late, Angel. Do you mind if I run to the bathroom real quick?” “Yeah, we'll wait for you to start.” And as soon as Sam is out of the room and David turns around, they're all like “So. That’s new~”

///

Alright. So. One thing you will quickly learn about me is that when I explore a Redacted rarepair, I almost always explore Inversion in tandem. This next section will be covering how I think things would play out for Sam/David, but if that’s not your thing (or you’re tired of reading), feel free to leave on a high note. Now then:

[Let’s talk Inversion]

As mentioned in the main timeline, David and Sam are officially together when the E&E games roll around. Sam’s been hearing all about the behind the scenes from David, and when Vincent mentions wanting to go for Ayl (Lovely), it’s a given that he’ll be going as well. Vincent enjoys teasing him despite inviting Sam because “Your boy toy’s working security~” “Keep it up and I’ll tell him you called him my ‘boy toy’ (/lh)”. Sam wanted to get DAMN earlier so he could see David beforehand, but the sun obviously had other plans. I’d like to think that because of this, Sam scans the game/ceremony feed so he can spot the moments where David’s shown on screen.

On David’s end, he’s admittedly excited knowing Sam will be there for the ceremony. With all the preparations and work, they hadn’t had much time to just soak up each other’s company. At least now, he’d be able to see his mate once this is over and appreciate him properly. At this point, we’re following how the ceremony canonically progresses up to when the rift opens and shades start spilling in. The same core moments play out: David making the call to bring the ward back down. Sam and Vincent trying to get to Lovely, ending up inside the ward before realizing it’s back up. They were both trapped inside the ward in canon, but now it means something entirely different.

When the shades start spilling in, Sam is freaking out. He wants to go find David but he also doesn’t want to leave Vincent alone. Ayl is still relatively new to the magical world, he’s not a shifter, he’s got more disadvantages in a situation like this. Vincent will go looking for his partner regardless, and Sam decides to go with him. Later on when he realizes the ward is back up, he’s torn between wanting David in there with him and wanting him outside, safe and away from all this mess. He sees shifters running around, but he’s never seen David shifted at this point. It’s near impossible for him to focus long enough to try and find his mate, and he knows that if he’s not careful, that could get someone hurt.

Initially, David is focused on the job at hand. He’s the one that made the call to trap all these people, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to help as much as possible. Realizing Asher was inside the ward stung in its own way because he wanted his best friend out of harm’s way, but he pushes that down for the time being because he trusts Asher to handle the crisis before them. However— The moment he realizes Sam is inside the ward as well? His stomach is in knots. Like with Asher, he has to push down those anxieties, silently hoping things will work out in the end. If Ash tries to ask David about it, David shuts the conversation down. He doesn’t have time to think about this when people’s lives are at stake.

As Inversion continues to play out, Sam is trying his best to focus on Vincent And Ayl as well as helping the people he can. There are moments where he swears he can feel David closeby, his head turning as he tries to spot him before telling himself to stay focused. Likewise, David is focusing his energy and attention on crisis response, ignoring his own exhaustion as he continues pushing forward. He keeps reminding himself that they’ll get out of this— That if he keeps going, eventually this nightmare will end and things will be alright.

What he doesn’t account for is Asher getting attacked by a shade. It’s an emotional breaking point for David—It was bad enough that his mate’s trapped in here with him, but now he was going to lose his best friend too. The way in which Sam’s name tears from David’s throat stops the vampire in his tracks. David’s been trying his best to stay calm and think rationally since the rift opened. But in that moment, all he can focus on is Asher in front of him, his hands slick with his best friend’s blood, Asher’s breath coming too fast and too shallow, his eyes closing, he’s not moving enough— “Angel— Angel, look at me.” There are tears streaming down David’s face as he looks at Sam. “Can you help him?” “I can try.” Sam is able to focus on healing Asher with David’s help, but it cuts deep seeing his mate in so much pain, even if emotional.

The rest of Inversion plays out as it did in canon up to the point where Milo brings the ward down. As soon as he sees that the shades are gone, David goes to find Asher again, part of him still terrified that he’s gonna wake up and Ash will be gone. As the two of them make their way back out, Malakhi (Babe) nearly crashes into the both of them, trying to check on them both because they’ve certainly seen better days. David lets go of Asher so him and Mal can have their moment together, not wanting to interrupt. David would do his best to mask it externally, but inside he’s panicking because he hasn’t seen Milo, he doesn’t know how much of his pack made it out alive, and Sam’s nowhere to be seen. He gets confirmation that Milo’s alright while he’s still near Asher, and it’s enough to make him cry again. While waiting for Milo to come find them, he sees Sam again. The vamp is much more relieved to see David alive and in one piece, kissing him and pulling him into a tight hug before quickly apologizing as David winces.

They don’t get much time to talk before David has to go address DUMP and such for his decisions. Sam recognizes the subtle shift when David takes on the role of alpha again, ignoring whatever’s going on in his own mind for the sake of responsibility. Sam asks David if he should stay, but David tells Sam that he’ll be fine and that he should go with Vincent/be with his clan for now. Sam is reluctant but agrees after promising to come back for David when DUMP’s done talking with him. It’s hours before Sam hears from David again, but as promised, he comes and picks him up once he’s been released. The drive home is silent, neither of them saying anything. It’s only when they make it inside and David sees his own reflection that he finally breaks, clinging to Sam as the weight of everything that happened hits him.

/// So yeah, this concludes another fic adjacent ramble (/lh)! As mentioned at the start, I have many headcanons for these two, so let me know if that would be of interest to anyone. This was a labor of love, and I really hope that it was enjoyable to read through. (And, once more, if you actually read through all of this, hi, thank you, you’re wild /lh /pos)

#redacted david #redacted sam #Lunar Healing #PK Fic Adjacents #Redacted Rambles #rarepair #redacted rarepairs #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #WHO LET ME WRITE ALL OF THIS /LH #I was possessed /j #Not sure who I'll end up doing next #But this has given me a strange boost of confidence #So if I start writing fics you know why /hj

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