Tumgik
#but it wouldn't be uncommon either
ruporas · 1 year
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really super mega hyper big big appreciate u giving wolfwood a cunty little rosary/necklace it slays so fucking hard
i love this ask DGMSKG YES, ROSARY WOLFWOOD!!!! i used to just draw him with a regular cross necklace, but i started drawing him with a rosary after seeing @/cryptidw00rm's brilliant wolfwoods... he's a genius...
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the-ninja-legacy-whip · 5 months
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In our world, there are people who have red eyes and white hair who are called albino. Is there such people in the legacy verse ? If so, would people mistake him as an Albino and not as the master of Fire ?
Lowkey if Aurora and Zane weren't direct Descendants of Ice, they both could be considered albino under our 'real world' rules. It's a headcanon I flipflop on, thus haven't explicitly stated, but it is something I've pondered :d
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kelpiemomma · 1 year
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tf I know Titanfall is human piloting Mechs but like. Titanfall/PacRim fusion where Jaegers are piloted by one human and one machine (similar to the simulacru in tf instead of two humans (or in addition to two humans).
Lastimosa was both a Jaeger pilot and an instructor, with mech BT as his partner. He was still training Cooper on the side in addition to his other training. Lastimosa died in a Kaiju attack and BT brought the Jaeger back (like the opening sequence of PacRim). BT was "retired" from piloting with a human after his AI was found to be too unstable (too emotional). He ends up training with Cooper who is still a relative rookie (no Kaiju piloting experience, lots of training under his belt) and finds they're a good match. One of them approaches Briggs about it, who's not sure putting a rookie with a compromised mech is the best idea (she's REALLY against it) but when a double event happens and there's only so many Jaegers and pilots that can be deployed, she gives them a chance.
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dravidious · 9 months
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You're more amazing than Propagator Primordium
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What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck this is a 2-drop 3/3 that's also a reanimation spell that makes its own reanimation targets what the fuck
In related news about perfectly balanced cards, I was inspired by cards like Bitter Triumph, Cast Down, Devour in Shadow, Doom Blade, Feed the Swarm, Go for the Throat, Heartless Act, Infernal Grasp, Malicious Affliction, Power Word Kill, Terror, Victim of Night, and Walk the Plank to make my own removal spell
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#asks#the only thing keeping this thing even vaguely reasonable is the fact that there aren't many good fungus creatures to reanimate with it#but that's irrelevant because again: it makes its own reanimation targets#and those reanimation targets make their own reanimation targets#it just keeps exponentially multiplying itself#i hate exponential growth cards#they either get snuffed out by a removal spell and do nothing or they completely take over the game#the worst kind of rare are the ones that just win the game all on their own#the rare slot is for complex cards that require the right deck to take advantage of#especially when they do really weird gimmicky shit that wouldn't work at all outside a dedicated deck#but this is just a sorcery with “Your opponent discards a removal spell. If they can't then you win the game.”#why even bother printing commons and uncommons when you're just going to completely and totally invalidate them with cards like this#anyway i just added my removal spell to the post#idk why they keep printing these 2-drop “conditional” removal spells#like just be honest and make them 2-drop removal spells#or just don't make 2-drop removal spells. that would also be nice#2 mana to answer almost every creature in the game is maybe a little bit Not A Good Idea#also i decided to search for every black 2-drop instant/sorcery that says “destroy” to find all of the “conditional” removal spells#there's a bunch#actually Bitter Triumph and Feed the Swarm and Infernal Grasp are unconditional but cost life which isn't really a cost so they go here too#they still fit the theme of “black gets to delete practically any creature for 2 mana”
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sukunasweetheart · 6 months
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<the butterfly perched upon you>
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slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.
the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3
dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
word count; 8.1k
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how can someone be this useless?
its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.
very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.
there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.
the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.
today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.
theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.
you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.
you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.
no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.
you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.
thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.
and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.
perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?
when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.
"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."
usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.
amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!
"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."
we!? who's we?! you internally sob.
"it's fine."
a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.
"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."
you hear the large man sit himself down.
"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."
you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.
"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."
you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.
meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.
later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.
"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."
"no, leave her. i was only curious."
uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.
uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.
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it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.
the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.
that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.
night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.
"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."
oh...
you feeling like crying.
there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.
walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.
"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.
"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."
yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!
but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.
you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.
lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...
the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.
lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.
kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.
"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"
the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.
"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."
"right away."
you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.
"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.
"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.
there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!
you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.
it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.
you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.
you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.
the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.
time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.
"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.
"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.
"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"
you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.
"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.
you freeze on the spot, face heating up.
"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.
"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.
"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.
"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."
he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.
"understood?"
"yes, my lord."
without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.
"silly girl."
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since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.
recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.
this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.
"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."
your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.
"keep your head up," he commands you.
"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.
the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.
"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.
"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.
"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."
after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.
you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.
after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.
but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.
you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.
three sharp knocks.
"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"
"you may."
you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.
"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.
you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.
"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."
oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.
hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.
"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.
you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.
"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.
"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.
after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.
things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.
"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.
"such a helpless, troublesome woman."
he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.
you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.
"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"
a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.
you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"
you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.
you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.
back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.
you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.
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after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.
in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.
before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.
the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.
the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.
from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.
he walks towards your light.
you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...
a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.
"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.
"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.
"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.
and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.
"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.
"ack-!"
"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.
you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.
you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.
"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.
your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.
"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."
it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?
his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.
"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.
"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.
you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.
and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.
upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.
the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.
lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.
by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.
right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.
"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."
your stomach starts stirring once again.
the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.
it takes courage to speak up behind him.
"did you wish to see me, my lord?"
sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.
"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"
"certainly."
as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.
tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.
"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.
is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.
"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.
there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.
"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"
"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."
like almost everything else in life.
"i see. that is most understandable."
the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.
you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.
you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.
"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.
you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.
"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.
his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?
"perhaps actions will speak better than words."
that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.
"sit closer to me."
you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.
sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.
"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."
the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?
his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.
your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.
"relax", he's telling you.
and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.
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quite a bit of time has passed since that day.
you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.
however, on days when he has returned...
you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.
your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.
it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.
"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"
"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"
"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"
you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.
"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."
and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.
you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.
his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.
red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.
your hand continues to softly caress him.
sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.
this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.
the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.
a butterfly...?
your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.
but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.
(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)
he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.
but...he supposes that he's the same.
what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?
as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.
well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.
not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.
...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.
nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.
sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.
a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.
without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.
"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.
...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.
"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.
you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.
sukuna thinks for a moment.
"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.
"p-pardon?!"
"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."
you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.
"what, you don't want to?"
"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."
you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.
"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.
"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.
you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.
when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.
"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"
"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."
"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.
"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."
you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.
"quickly- don't run my patience thin."
you make your way towards him without further hesitation.
sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.
the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.
sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.
his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.
when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?
you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.
and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.
upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.
"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.
"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.
"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.
you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.
for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.
"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.
you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.
"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.
"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.
you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.
"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.
his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.
"i thought you said you were going to leave?"
"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.
the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.
"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."
you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.
"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.
...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.
his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.
but,
right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.
you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.
"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."
that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.
"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."
"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"
he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.
"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"
another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.
"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."
he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.
"s-sukuna-sama..."
"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."
he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.
but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.
...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.
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during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.
"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."
you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?
such hopes fill your mind.
you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.
by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.
"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."
you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.
"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.
"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."
you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.
quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.
you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.
you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.
a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.
yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.
sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.
"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.
"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.
"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."
"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."
"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.
"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."
you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.
"i'm only teasing."
he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.
a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?
"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"
"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"
"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."
it could only ever belong to you.
he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.
"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."
your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.
"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.
he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.
sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.
he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.
you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.
"... you're beautiful,"
he finally relents.
sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.
fin.
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toshidou · 21 days
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can't stop thinking of domestic ghost learning how to crochet after he sees you practicing, large scarred, battle worn hands working away with a crochet hook and wool; not missing the way your eyes go fond as he joins you on the couch to crochet by your side. trying to suppress your giggle at the soft sounds of his frustrated grunts when he tries (and fails) to tie the slip knot for the 5th time in a row before he turns to you with a blank expression, arms extended in your direction.
what starts as slowly mastering little granny squares quickly evolves into working on whole projects; clothes, hats, face masks, stuffed animals. your house slowly fills up with both yours and his creations. although it's something you mostly do together, it wouldn't be uncommon for you to come downstairs as the sun rises only to find Simon hunched over a ball of wool, clearly awoken from a night of terrors and craving comfort from the repetition that crocheting provides.
he'd inevitably have to leave for deployment, but not without laying out a new cardigan he'd made just for you (a way he can keep you warm despite the thousands of miles that might separate you) or a little crocheted plush of himself, fitted with its very own little mask; even giving you the option of dressing it in either combat gear or his go to black hoodie and jeans. it leaves you teary every time, clutching his new creation to your chest and nuzzling the soft wool into your cheek, always knowing that his hands were made for more than just war and death.
and if the day comes you finally bring a child into the world, you better believe he's making them an entire wardrobe that matches the clothes he's already made for the two of you; holding the completed tiny garments up whilst you try your absolute hardest to not burst into tears at how small they look, knowing they're so lucky to have a dad who's going to love them so, so much.
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aphel1on · 3 months
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Dungeon Lords and the Human Need for Connection
When I came across these panels again the other day, it got me thinking about dungeon lord parallels again.
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...And I spiraled until I was writing my thesis statement about how All Four Dungeon Lords (Yes, Even Laios, Stop leaving him out of these discussions) Are Actually the Same.
Firstly (because on some level everything is about Thistle to me) I thought about how the lion could have very likely given Thistle a similar offer when his loved ones started losing their souls/rebelling/etc. And yet, there is no sign that Thistle ever accepted such an offer, nor any sign that he used magic to forcibly change people's opinions, the way Marcille briefly threatened the party with while she was dungeon lord:
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Instead, he ended up with the fucking dining table that drives me insane. Which probably means that either Thistle rejected the offer, or the lion sensed it wouldn't go over well and didn't even try it.
Making replicas of people doesn't seem to be an uncommon part of granting the dungeon lord's wishes. In his time, Mithrun actually took the demon up on it:
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(Not pictured; the infamous lamia-version of his love interest.)
What makes Mithrun different from Thistle and Marcille in this instance is that Thistle and Marcille both became dungeon lords for the sake of specific people. Both were motivated by the terror of losing their most important people, and both told themselves everything they did was for the sake of protecting those people.
Because they were motivated by genuine love, copies or mind manipulation were not palatable. I think Thistle even in the late stages of his madness probably would not find these to be acceptable solutions. No matter how twisted, possessive, and obsessive his love became under the dungeon's influence, it was still from the fear of losing those original, irreplaceable people that he was doing all this. Even as his relationship with Delgal and the other Melinis fell apart over the years... even as he was left with only their soulless bodies... he would still rather cling to whatever was left.
Perhaps on some level, Thistle recognized the same thing that kept Marcille from following through with her threats:
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Even in the state of endlessly chasing their desires as dungeon lords, they couldn't feel truly okay accomplishing it that way.
For Mithrun, meanwhile, the people in his fantasy world were a means to an end. It was all-encompassing insecurity and the pain of not being wanted that led him to become dungeon lord. His desire was not fixated on any specific people - it was broad enough and desperate enough that anyone could fulfill it. The thing is, Mithrun prior to becoming dungeon lord was by all accounts well-liked. But his emotional walls were up so high that not a single one of his admirers could make him feel known and cared for. The kind of crushing perfectionism he exhibited in that stage of his life often comes with a silent and equally crushing imposter syndrome. No one actually knew him, because Mithrun didn't let them, even though every aspect of his personality then was a desperate plea to be seen and liked. I think the sad truth is that, by the time he became dungeon lord, Mithrun didn't truly believe that happiness was something that could be found in other people. (It's telling that his wish was for a world in which he had never been discarded; perhaps for a world in which he never felt the need to put up those masks.)
In this respect, Mithrun is actually more alike to Laios than he is to Thistle and Marcille.
Laios was told again and again by the world that it was wrong to be who he was - that he was unlikeable when he acted the way that came naturally to him. The lion didn't bother asking Laios about replicas; those would be meaningless to him. Like Mithrun, Laios had lost all hope of being liked for who he was, but took it one step further: Laios had lost hope that he could find happiness in the human world entirely. At that point, all he wanted was an escape. To leave the pain of the human world behind and become someone, something, different. All he really needed in order to be tempted into it was the assurance that his friends would be safe.
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All four of these stories have a pretty obvious throughline when you think about it: the deep, intrinsic need for human connection and what happens to someone when that need cannot be met.
All four of them were starving for connection. All four of them experienced alienation and isolation that made them desperate enough to turn to the demon.
Marcille (a half-elf whose unstable aging left her without peers) and Thistle (raised as the only elf in a kingdom of humans) both formed intense attachments to the few people they did become close to, and went off the deep end from fear of losing them.
Mithrun and Laios were both rejected by others for aspects of themselves that were out of their control, and tried to cope by developing masks that left them unable to feel accepted by the people still in their lives.
...So it's fitting, then, that genuine human connection is also what saved all four of them in the end.
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(Thistle is a little arguable here; I personally don't think he died, but even if you do believe he died at the end of the manga- Yaad being able to connect and empathize with him is what gave him peace and solace in his final moments.)
Dungeon Meshi is about alienation and connection as much as it is about food and cycles of life. (Or more like, these themes are masterfully intertwined - food is used to represent love and connection over and over again. But that's a whole essay in and of itself!)
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pastorpresent · 22 days
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insp by this right here, by @septicsoldier13. thank you for the prompt lovely! :))
-
They were short on bills this month.
Logan's shitty job at some scummy bar didn't exactly leave him rolling in cash (not to mention the seventy dollars he was docked for drinking the supply), Wade hadn't made all that much in commission, and Al's disability cheque didn't stretch far.
Rent was covered, so was water and electric, but that left heat unpaid.
Logan figured it wouldn't be a big deal. It was July- and there was a pretty intense heatwave hitting the city currently. They likely wouldn't need the heat for the next month anyway.
The apartment was chilled, but it wasn't cold by any means, which was why he was confused when he got home one evening and Wade was walking around making dinner with a blanket draped over his shoulders, and what looked to be two sweaters on, alongside thick sweatpants.
Logan was sweating just looking at him.
"I know you're pissed I got docked the alcohol money, but aren't you overplaying it a little, bub?"
Wade jumped at his voice, clearly not hearing him enter. The blanket dropped to the kitchen floor, and the merc looked mildly embarrassed.
"I was... cold," he said quietly, and it was... odd. There was no jokes, none of the usual outrageous comebacks, and Wade was just staring at the blanket now crumpled on the floor, almost with a fucking longing expression, and Logan would admit that often the idiots jokes flew right over his head (he wasn't exactly caught up with the last fifty years of media), but he really didn't get this one.
"You were cold? It's not hot in here but it's not cold," Logan pointed out, pretty much over Wade's dramatics.
He'd had a long shift at work, split up about four fights, kicked three people out and chased two couples trying to fuck in the filthy bathroom all between making stupid drinks as his own fingers itched for alcohol.
All to say, he really didn't have the energy for whatever dumb joke this was a part of.
"You're gonna give yourself heatstroke, and you look fucking ridiculous," he deadpanned, and Wade shrugs, doesn't say anything, which makes something heavy settle in Logan's gut.
Whatever, not his problem, right?
He left to go shower.
//
Wade had stripped down into sweats and a single sweater by the time they retire to the couch.
Logan is in his vest and flannel pyjama pants, and he's warm, but he doesn't mention Wade's layers this time.
The TV is on, some shitty episode of some shitty reality show Wade insists he has to watch, and Logan's focusing on it, until he's not.
His attention wanders over to the merc sat on the other end of the couch. It's not uncommon, Logan tends to spend more time watching Wade react to whatever dumb shit is on rather than watch it himself, for reasons he doesn't have the energy to analyse.
Somethings wrong.
Because Wade isn't watching the TV either. His eyes are distant, staring at the floor, and he's shivering violently, teeth practically chattering as he curls in on himself, knees hugged to his chest, and it's like he's...
"You're cold," Logan concludes aloud, but this time the words hold no frustration, because he'd seen Wade be committed to jokes before - but never on this scale. It's not a joke, or some sort of prank at Logan's expense.
Wade nods, and Logan is up and crouching in front of him immediately, sticking a hand against his forehead. Wade practically leans into his body's warmth, shuddering, and jesus christ - the mercs skin is like ice.
"The hell? Are you sick? Can you even get sick?" Logan touched the exposed skin of Wade's wrist, and sure enough - it was freezing.
Wade laughed softly, "I'm always sick, it's just... another side effect," he explained, and it took Logan a minute to recall what the cause of Wade's scars was. The cancer.
"But... your mutation, that stupid programme, I thought it cured you," Logan frowned.
"Not... cured. Just sort of put it on the back burner. It can't kill me, because my body is constantly regenerating the cells it kills, but it's there, and sometimes the symptoms hit a bit harder than usual," Wade explained, looking self conscious, as if this was something Logan would mock him for.
"Why the fuck didn't you say something when we sacrificed the heating this month?"
"We needed it the least-"
"I would've found a fuckin' way if I knew you'd suffer! I'm going straight down there tomorrow, I'll use my tip money to pay it," Logan stated, and Wade's eyes widened.
"No, peanut, you're saving that up for your motorcycle-"
"Fuck that, I'm not having you be uncomfortable in your own home," Logan huffed, "now wait here," he tossed a blanket from the chair over to Wade, then headed to their bedroom.
He headed to Wade's set of drawers first, but pivoted to his own. His hoodies were bigger - more fabric, more warmth, right? Definitely. He didn't just want to see Wade wrapped up in his clothes. That would be fucking dumb, because he wasn't a thirteen year old girl with a school crush.
He grabbed the obnoxiously pink Hello Kitty blanket from their bed too, and then stuck into Al's drawers and grabbed the hot water bottle she used when her back was giving her a hard time. He grabbed one of her heating pads from the medication cupboard too, making a note to buy her some more the next time he did their grocery run.
A few minutes later, items in hand and hot water bottle sufficiently warmed, he reentered the living room.
Wade had the blanket over his lap, but Logan could still see the slight tremble of his shoulders, as much as he was now trying to hide it.
His stomach twisted with guilt for his earlier words.
Logan sat beside him, "lift you're shirt up, just for a minute," he ordered as he opened the heat pad.
"At least buy me dinner first, or I'll kiss and tell. Who am I kidding? If we kiss I'm definitely telling, I'll go on the local news-" Wade's usual tirade of rambling was somewhat comforting, not that Logan would ever tell him that, but even so it's usual flow was lost behind the chattering of teeth.
"Wade," Logan interrupted, trying for exasperated but knowing he probably fell a bit short, "Shirt up, bub," he repeated.
Wade still looked hesitant, staring at him like he'd lost his mind, and Logan sighed, grabbing the hem of the sweater and doing it himself, using his other hand to stick the heat pad on.
"What are you- oh," Wade shivered again, arching his back a little into the heat source.
It only took a second for Logan to reboot his brain, and he quickly dropped Wade's shirt.
"Here," he shoved the hoodie, blanket, and hot water bottle into his lap, and Wade stared at the collection, and the tiny tug of a smile made Logan's heart jump a little in his chest.
"Awh peanut, you're the sweetest," he gushed, and it was supposed to be a tease, he knew that, but there was also something genuine there.
"Just warm yourself up," Logan muttered in response, avoiding his gaze.
He returned back to his seat, occasionally glancing over to Wade. The merc settle back down, both blankets wrapped around him, drowning in Logan's hoodie, the hot water bottle hugged to his chest.
He looked... cute, his nose and eyes visible beneathe the layered cocoon.
Logan did go back to focusing on the show, but he didn't stop his sideways glances, and it didn't take long to notice Wade was still shivering a little.
"Are you still cold?"
"No-"
"Wade," Logan warned, practically growled in his direction, and the younger man sighed.
"It's not... I know I shouldn't be, it's just... weird. It's like it's embedded into my fucking bones, I can't..." Wade trailed off, and he sounded miserable.
"Just come here, you dumbass," Logan said, rushing the words out before he could change his mind.
And if Wade looked at him like he was crazy earlier, now he was regarding him as if he'd grown a second head.
"You've done more than enough, Lo. I just need to get my shit together-"
It wasn't up for debate, and Logan wasn't fucking debating it. He grabbed Wade and yanked him closer, earning a yelp of surprise.
He made quick work of pulling him in close, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and dragging him into his body heat.
"Logan, you really don't need to-"
"Shut up and watch the TV," Logan grumbled, staring pointedly at the screen as to not meet the eyes burning holes into him currently.
Wade did give in eventually. He snuggled down into Logans side, head resting on his shoulder and a sweater-pawed hand coming up to lay on his chest. Logan wrapped an arm around his waist in response, tugging him impossibly closer.
Wade did stop shivering, eventually, and there was a mumbled 'thank you' against his neck.
Logan just squeezed his waist in acknowledgement, and neither made a move to separate.
//
The next time, Logan didn't need Wade to say a damn thing.
It wasn't the bills going unpaid this time, either, because Logan prioritised heat as much as he did the base rent when working out their money these days, and had even spent some of his spare cash on an overly loud but functional portable heater as the weather grew colder.
(Of course Wade's favourite method of warming up remained... him, but Logan really had no qualms with that. He found himself almost a bit jealous when Wade opted for the heater before himself, usually when he was busy, and Logan found himself purposefully dropping whatever he was doing to sit on the couch and drag Wade up against him. He absolutely did not glare at a portable heater, because that would be insane.)
No, this time they'd been invited to a Christmas night out alongside the X-men.
Logan had been reluctant to go, still not all that comfortable seeing the team after previously seeing them all... but Wade had begged, and pleaded, because apparently this was a yearly thing and he'd never been invited before.
That alone had only served to piss Logan off more, but Wade had been so excited - and so he sacrificed their quiet night in for a pub crawl around the city.
He'd already caught Wade shivering a few times in the warmth of their apartment that day, but the merc was quick to deny it, likely thinking (and accurately so) that Logan wasn't going to let him go if he thought he was having a bad day in terms of maintaining his body heat.
He'd watched Wade dress with a frown, "at least stick a shirt on under your sweater. You not got any clean sweats you can wear? Those jeans are too thin," Logan had lectured, and Wade had pouted in that way that typically spelt trouble for the older mutant.
"I don't wanna look stupid! Have you seen what I'm working with here? The least I can do is dress nice," Wade gestured to his face, to his scars, and Logan had to bite his tongue to stop himself from immediately jumping on the defence, because he'd probably call Wade gorgeous or something equally as eyebrow raising in the process.
"Fine, but you bring a jacket," he said, and Wade rolled his eyes but agreed.
They'd been out for a couple of hours. The drinks were flowing (Logan had cut himself off at three beers, which was a personal best), and everything was going... oddly well. Logan felt more at ease around the team than he had since he arrived in this universe, and it was nice.
He was talking to Hank, when Scott came over and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Wade's asking for you, Logan," Logan frowned.
Wade had dissapeared a little while ago in order to go dance with Storm, Morph and Jean.
"Where is he?" Logan asked, already on his feet.
"Bathroom. He doesn't look great, dunno if he's had too much to drink," Scott replies, and Logan nods, heavily doubting the explanation.
"Thanks, Scott," he says, before making his way through the crowd and into the bathrooms at the back of the club.
When he enters, Wade is perched against the sinks, shivering violently, his whole body trembling and teeth going so fast he could hear them clinking together. He had his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
"W-won't stop, m' cold," Wade whimpered, the embarrassed flush on his cheeks standing out harshly against his pale palour.
Logan's immediate reaction is one of frustration, "I told you that you needed more layers!"
The scolding only earned a small nod, and a sniffle as Wade looked away.
"I'm sorry, I know. I'm just... gonna go home," he said, pushing up from the sinks to leave, but even his legs were shaking, and when he tried to walk the violent trembles knocked him off balance.
Logan was quick to catch him, wrapping his arms around the merc. Wade leaned into his warmth almost instinctively.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Logan said, but his voice held more concern than anger now, as he steadied Wade on his feet.
He didn't expect the mutant to burst into tears.
Logan didn't do great with tears, especially not when it was somebody he genuinely cared about. He very almost ran out of there, went to grab Jean or Storm or even Hank - anyone who was better at this shit than he was, but he had a feeling Wade wouldn't appreciate anyone seeing him in this state.
Shit, did he even want Logan here right now? He might have asked for him earlier, but he clearly wasn't being much help. He'd made him cry, for fucks sake.
"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, I know I should've listened I just- I wanted to just feel slightly normal for once," Wade cried harder, and Logan found himself pulling the shaking merc into his arms again, tucking him against his chest.
"I'm not mad, bub. I get it, I do. I'm just worried about you," Logan sighed, and God, Wade really was like a block of ice on his hold.
"'M sorry," Wade hiccuped, and Logan shushed him softly.
"It's fine, honest. Let's get you home and warmed up, hm?" Logan suggested, running his hands over Wade's arms in an effort to ease the chill.
"Yeah," Wade agreed tiredly, and Logan guided him out the bar, giving Jean an excuse of Wade not handling his alcohol too great (which was at least somewhat true, because the merc was definitely teetering into the emotional drunk category if his display in the bathroom was anything to go off) and hailed them a cab home.
He helped Wade to the couch, burying him in blankets and setting up the heater directly in front of him. When he turned to leave, a hand escaped from the mountain of fleece to curl around his wrist.
"Cuddles? Please?"
Logan was surprised he didn't turn into a puddle on the spot. It was fucking ridiculous. If anyone else dared to grab him like that, make such a request with big devastated puppy dog eyes, he would've sliced them into three even pieces.
Wade was making him soft. He didn't feel as repulsed by that thought as he probably should've.
"In a minute, bub. Let me go get you some stuff first, alright?"
Wade nodded, letting go reluctantly.
Logan made quick work of gathering the usual. It had become almost a routine at this point.
He made Wade a hot chocolate too, knowing how much the merc adored the sugary drink. He was only making it to warm him up though, obviously.
When he returned, Wade had burrowed completely beneath the blanket pile, and Logan had to immediately shut down the adorable that his unhelpful, traitorous brain supplied.
He put the hot chocolate on the table, and the smell had Wade popping his head out, staring at the drink.
"You made me hot chocolate?"
"Don't get used to it," Logan replied, and shoved a pair of his own sweatpants and his own hoodie against Wade's chest.
"Get these on."
"These are yours y'know," Wade said, running a hand over the sweatpants.
"Yours are dirty," Logan shrugged.
They were. Apart from a black pair at the bottom of his closet, but Logan was prepared to swear under oath that he'd never seen them before in his life.
Wade made quick work of getting changed. Logan turned to face the wall, and while Wade didn't say anything, Logan could feel the assholes smirk.
Once he was done, Logan joined him on the couch, climbing beneathe the layers of blankets despite the fact that he tended to run pretty hot. He could get closer to Wade this way.
He stuck the heat pad on his neck, the hot water bottle against his stomach (Wade's very own one now, with hello kitty sewn onto the cover - early Christmas gift from Logan) and wrapped him up in his arms, until Wade's entire body weight was resting against him, sprawled against his chest.
"Logan?" Wade asked after a while of silence, the only sound being the TV and humming of the heater.
"Hm?"
"You're the best wolverine," Wade said softly, and Logan glanced down at the merc, snuggled against his chest, eyes half lidded. He'd stopped shivering.
"Only for you, bub," he hummed in response, very almost kissing the top of his head, but settling on running a hand through it instead.
Wade made a happy sound, and Logan was just glad no one was around to see the stupid smile it put on his face.
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fairestwriting · 7 months
Note
Hello there! Love your writing! How about my sweet Savanaclaw boys finding out that their crush (or S/O) sleeps cuddling a plushie of their respective animals (like a wolf for Jack). Thanks! I love Jack so much :)
me while jumping at the opportunity of writing the man: i hate leona
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Leona Kingscholar
He is canonically a very smart and perceptive guy. But somewhere in my heart I just know he wouldn't fully make the connection for a while. Just trust me on that one.
Kind of pokes fun at your "cat" plushie. What's with that thing, Herbivore? Aren't you a little too old for stuffed animals? Though he steps back if it makes you genuinely upset, which isn't what he's going for, he's just being an ass as a joke again. A part of him thinks it's really endearing, even before it really clicks for him.
He kind of feels vaguely jealous of the plushie. If you bring it while you two are sleeping together he'll pull the what do you need this thing for, I'm right here kind of shtick.
Confused on why you sleep with a plushie in the first place, more confused about why this stuffed cat looks so weird... oh, wait.
He's stupidly proud when it actually clicks. Of course he won't tell you it went over his head for the longest time, but all of a sudden, he's all smug whenever he sees you with the plushie, saying you could've just called if you missed him so much.!
Ruggie Bucchi
Takes a hot second to make the connection, but a lot less than Leona. The delay is mostly because he's never expected to see a hyena plushie of all things.
Actually loves it because it reminds him of the kids back home a little. He asks where you bought it, how much it was, tells you a little story about a kid he knew who wanted one just like that.
He won't explicitly ask to hold it but you should offer it, he loves your little buddy, he's already said you should come to him if you ever need to get a tear patched up. Doesn't even have it in him to make a joke about it being childish, at most tells you he'll keep it a secret if you look embarrassed.
When he does notice though, while poking at the plushie's little ears absentmindedly, he's the one who gets flustered. Oh no, that's really cute kind of realization.
He wants to sound cool when he says that, you know, if you want to sleep with him, you can just invite him over, but he does fail pretty hard. He can't help it, though, it's just way too endearing to him.
...Besides, he's already offered to co-parent the toy. If it doesn't have a name, it's just a matter of time before Ruggie asks and "jokingly" comes up with suggestions.
Jack Howl
Only one who thinks it might have to do something with him... but he's kind of too flustered to say anything about it for a good while.
He bashfully reassures you there's nothing wrong with keeping plushies around even if you're not a kid, maybe letting it slip that he thinks the little wolf is pretty cute... then pretending he didn't say anything.
Jack overthinks it a bit. Wolf plushies aren't that uncommon, right? You probably had it before you met him. He's too shy to ask if you had it before you met him.
He'll settle on... asking about the plushie itself. It might not have anything to do with him, but he knows pretty quickly that he wants it to. If you're not dating yet, he'll use the almighty excuse of asking about it because he needs to get his little siblings a gift.
Either way, though, the next excuse he gets, whether it's Christmas or your birthday or whatever, you find yourself with a very neatly wrapped box in your hands, and Jack nearly hiding behind it. Just saw it in a shop near home and thought you might like it, he says.
Whether your previous plushie was based on the exact same type of white wolf he is doesn't matter. If it is, it's getting a twin. You bet he scoured the shops to find it, blessing his luck on wolves being animals plenty of people love. He has a small, shy smile on his face when you take it.
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daddy-dotcom · 9 months
Text
Bet on Me
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Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader
Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.
Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?
----------------------------------------------
This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 
Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 
"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 
I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 
"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 
I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 
"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."
"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 
"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 
------------
"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 
"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 
"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"
"It's kind of my job." 
"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 
"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."
"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"
“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 
Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"
"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 
"Ah so you're a local too?"
“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 
“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 
“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 
I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 
“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 
“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 
My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 
“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 
I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”
“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.
“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 
“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 
“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 
“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 
“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 
At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 
———
"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 
"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 
"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 
"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 
"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 
I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 
"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 
"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 
He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 
"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 
"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."
I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 
"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 
“I-I don’t have a-," 
“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 
I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 
“Oh god, Spencer.” 
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 
“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 
It’s always the skinny, shy guys.
“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 
“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 
His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.
“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.
“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 
“I’m all yours Spencer.” 
————————————————————————
Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties
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akutasoda · 2 months
Text
some nights you dance with tears in your eyes
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synopsis - they catch you crying after not seeing you all day
includes - albedo, baizhu, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvilette
warnings - gn!reader, angst to confront, breakdowns?, wc - 1.4k
a/n: guys i promise working on requests, this has just been sat in my drafts for way too long-
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albedo ★↷
it wasn't entirely uncommon for him to leave for dragonspine and not return for a while, but he always made sure to let you know. albedo would make sure you saw him the morning he left, and he would make sure to not leave without giving you a hug and a kiss goodbye - he may not understand human emotions but he knew it made you happy.
you had come to accept his absences and understood how much his work meant to him. sometimes you'd even accompany him for a short while up there! but no matter what, you always eagerly anticipated his return after whatever amount of time. however, now more than ever, you wished him home even more.
work had been piling and piling, your luck turned sour and everything seemed to be crashing down on you. returning home to an empty house everyday didn't help either. eventually, it became too much for you.
one night you'd reached your breaking point. you tried to push everything to the back of your mind and convince yourself that tomorrow would be better, but you couldn't. as soon as you reached the privacy of your home, you broke down.
unbeknownst to you, albedo had arrived home earlier. he eagerly awaited seeing you again but assumed that you probably would be asleep by the time he got back, so he let himself in. once inside, there was no way he could've missed the heartbreaking noise of sobs.
naturally, he assumed it was you and his chalk heart shattered. albedo called out for you until he found you and he swore he would have cried himself at the sight of you crying. at first he rushed to bring you into his embrace, but he was hesitant, what if you wanted space?
but by the way you brokenly called his name changed his decision. he brought you into his embrace and held you tight as he let you cry your heart out.
baizhu ★↷
it was no surprise that bubu pharmacy could keep him extremely busy. he tried his hardest to try and keep a healthy balance but sometimes he could really be rushed off his feet. especially if he has an early start, like he did today.
a patient required quite the urgent attention early in the morning and so you didn't wake up alongside him like usual. you were tad bit disappointed that you wouldn't see him for awhile but you understood his circumstances. now you just looked forward to seeing him at the end of the day!
however, now you were just excited for this day to end. there was just so many things that either annoyed you or stressed you out to the point that you finished your day early and headed home. admittedly, you were disappointed to not see baizhu anywhere but you understood that he was busy and hoped he'd finish soon.
by the time that baizhu had finally managed to close the pharmacy for the night, it had gotten rather late. he was exhausted and desperately deprived of your presence, all he wanted to do was see you for the first time since this morning.
what he hadn't expected was to find you crying. immediately he could feel his heartstrings being pulled upon and he called out for you gently, seeing your glossy eyes only made him sadder.
he pulled you into his embrace and held you close. maybe tomorrow he could leave the pharmacy to his assistants while he takes you out for the day.
alhaitham ★↷
his days could vary quite wildy, he could be really busy or not very bust at all. either way he still preferred to keep to himself with a few exclusions - you being one of the main ones. so most days, you'd see him during the day.
however, if you were busy, he'd tend to leave you to it and would often encourage you to focus on your things rather then be distracted by him or anyone else. he'd even go as far as to completely avoid you if you had something really important coming up.
and today was just that. you had an extremely important deadline to hit and so alhaitham decided to give you the space to work properly on it. although, now that seems like the worst thing he could've done.
you're stress was high and everything seemed to be working against you, all you needed was a break but you simply could not find the time to indulge in such. you really hoped that alhaitham would come to distract you but you knew that was a long shot.
eventually, you got home. you were absolutely exhausted emotionally and physically and you needed to find your lover and relax for once. it was rather late at night so you found him propped up in bed reading. you didn't care less however and immediately found your way to collapse onto him.
before he could even question your behavior, he could feel your body practically shake as you finally let out all your emotions. he stayed silent as he placed his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
kaveh ★↷
you both knew very well that kaveh could often overwork himself, especially when he got a pretty good commission. he wouldn't so much as even take a break until it was completed and so sometimes it was difficult to see him during the day.
although he would become extra clingy later at night to make up for the time he could've spent with you - that and he was always reluctant to leave you in the morning if he knew. it was rather sweet, but sometimes he wouldn't be there when you needed him.
so while kaveh was busy fussing over new building plans, you were busy stressing over the amount of things you had to do. you were so close to reaching your breaking point but you'd rather not at the akadeymia and so you tried to hold on until you got home.
admittedly, you were disappointed that kaveh had yet to return home when you fid but you guessed you could just have some time to yourself and relax. although you greatly underestimated just how much the day had taken a toll on you, and before you knew it you were crying.
kaveh was absolutely beat by the time he dragged himself back and he couldn't wait to see you for the first time in ages. however his heart shattered when he saw you crying and he immediately made his way to you.
he took your shaky figure in his arms and held you close. he promised you then that whatever you wanted, he'd do it for you. he just couldn't bear to see you cry anymore.
neuvillette ★↷
the ludex of fontaine was always extremely busy. he tried his hardest to spend his time with you but more often than not, the only time's he could where before and after work. he did feel bad for not spending time with you but he held a lot of responsibility.
you knew better than to disturb him during work, and so you grew accustomed to not seeing him all day. if anything, it only made the time you two had together that much more special! you didn't mind exactly and if he did have the time, he'd let you know.
so when your day was turning horrid, you tried to press on and make it through but it was difficult. you wanted to go find your lover and relax but he was busy. as your day progressed it only became more difficult to continue on without breaking down into little pieces.
as soon as you got home, you tried desperately to calm yourself down and actually take a minute but it was proving inefficient. you knew that neuvilette only had one last trial today, so he should be home soon right?
however, by the time neuvilette actually managed to go home to you, he was greeted by your distraught self. oh how it made his heart ache to see you in such a state. he sat beside you and you immediately clung onto him and so he wrapped his arms arms around you, letting you finally cry.
that night, the rain in fontaine could only be described as torrential. a constant downpour that had citizens begging the hydro dragon to cheer up but how could he? only when he knew you were okay.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn
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mimicmimikyuwrites · 2 months
Text
Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT
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Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.
Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI
Other Notes: You can read part two here.
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Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.
It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.
You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.
"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.
"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.
"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.
While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.
"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.
As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.
"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.
You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.
Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.
"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.
"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.
"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.
"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.
"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."
"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.
You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.
"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.
He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.
Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.
Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.
"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.
"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.
"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.
"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.
"What? What are you—"
"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."
He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"
He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.
"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.
"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.
"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.
"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.
"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.
"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."
"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.
"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.
"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.
"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.
"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.
"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."
That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.
You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.
"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."
You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"
"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."
Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.
"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."
You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.
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llamagoddessofficial · 3 months
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Okay wait! We need more fae farm Sans please! that was too good! What would it look like when Sans's secret is revealed?
HFKDSJ okay, here's some more.
I really don't think he'd be too worried about it, when you discover his otherworldly nature. Because neither would you. Everyone already knows he's kind of strange, rumours of him not being 'normal' are abound. At that point, you would've already spent many moons getting to know him, being vulnerable without even realising - and you'd be living in a world where fae aren't uncommon at all. He's already proven himself a trustworthy friend. Why would you be scared of him?
... Especially since you have no reason to believe he's anything other than normal fae.
What you (a human) might forget is that the fair folk are not a homogeneous group. Some fae even other fae fear. He's one such entity.
It's difficult to tell if he's more powerful than Dream or Nightmare, considering he spends all his time... well, farming. It's also difficult to compare them because while all three are very ancient, they trace back to very different lineages. Dream and Nightmare are fae of butterflies, flowers, mushrooms, trees, seasons. Farmer is of ferns - of bogs, of gingkos, pine and moss.
Yall remember my Forest God AU? He's like if a Forest God got its act together, and just decided to settle down in a humanoid form. He's lived long enough to know what really matters... things like soft socks, a place to call home, the eyes and lips of a human you love.
He calls you "chickadee". It's his favourite bird.
People from the nearby village will giddily ask if you and Farmer are 'courting'. The delightful but mysterious bachelor finally has someone he likes? Everyone's rooting for him!
You have a very important role, on his farm. Very very important. You're his preserves tester. How is he supposed to know his jams and chutneys are any good, without someone of refined palate to assist him?
He has a really wonderful singing voice.
Old habits die hard; he still likes to trade. But the trades are silly, and often just an excuse for him to play. You want to hear him sing again? Better 'trade' by agreeing to cuddle up by the fire with him. You want another song, because the last sounded so ancient and beautiful and unlike anything you've ever heard? Try his spiced rice pudding, then he'll think about it.
His favourite food is roasted chestnuts.
His farm rests on the boundary between the fae and human worlds. You can enter from either side - and if you're not careful, leave on the wrong side. Farmer always walks you the right way, but if someone he doesn't like decides to make their leave, he might not be so attentive to where they're going.
You can stay at his farm without turning into fae. Alternatively, if you enter his property from the fae side, your transformation into fae is paused.
Wouldn't be surprised if he can reverse an incomplete transformation.
He talks fondly, but in the past tense, about a brother.
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Hey, if you have the time. could you write an X-Men 97 Kurt Wagner x reality warper reader who is Magneto's adopted daughter.
Bound by Reality
Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1,6K A/N: I kind of feel like this sucks, but I hope it's alright anyway
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Kurt loves you. That's the most important thing. He doesn't care who your father is or what he's done or how much he himself agrees with it all. He loves you. As long as you love him, that's all that matters to him.
Your power is the most fascinating thing for Kurt. Admittedly, he was quite skeptical at first. He is an acrobat, a fighter and always had to be able to rely on his senses. Especially when you met on the battlefield and on opposite sides, he was initially very wary of you and your powers.
But now, especially after you got together, you are a true miracle for him.
Sometimes you lie together in a meadow or in your bed and you alter little things, not much and it doesn't cost you much, but each time he is thrilled anew by your abilities. He's not shy about telling you either.
Every time you give free rein to your skills, be it in battle or otherwise, his legs go weak with affection. You're powerful, you're talented and between you and me, you just look fantastic doing it. Kurt could watch you use your skills all day, he wouldn't get tired of it.
However, as wonderful as he thinks your abilities are, he sometimes curses them all the more. Using your abilities, especially on a large scale, usually has severe consequences for you. Both your mental and physical strength are stretched to the limit and it is not uncommon for him to catch you at the last moment to prevent you from hitting the ground.
Should you be that vulnerable or hurt, Kurt becomes quite protective. You are one of the most important things in his life and he will protect you with his life if he has to.
Kurt is incredibly happy when you get on well with Rogue, as you are both equally important to him. However, you both have a habit of conspiring against him and he always gets the short end of the stick.
He also gets on quite well with your adoptive siblings. Admittedly, they didn't make it easy for him at first, but Kurt was quite persistent and got all three of them on his side.
You yourself had tried to delay the meeting between Kurt and your father as much as possible, which wasn't because you were embarrassed by Kurt. You loved him more than anything and you were pretty sure that wasn't going to change any time soon. The problem was your father. You were pretty sure that he would accept Kurt in the end, but you knew your father well and knew that he could be more than a little protective, especially when it came to his children.
"Liebling,“ Kurt murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as his tail wrapped around her legs. "Calm down. You're walking a hole in our carpet." She sighed as her boyfriend spread light kisses over her neck.
"You know my father, you know how he is. He's never approved of any of my relationships and I really want him to like you." Kurt leaned forward so his mouth hovered over her ear. "Will his decision change anything about us?"
She spun around and looked up at him a little indignantly. "Of course not!" A slight smirk came to his lips and he pulled her closer to him by the waist. "Then I don't see what you're so worried about." Before she could protest, he quickly placed his lips on hers, successfully silencing her.
She didn't respond at first, but then gave in with a sigh and returned the kiss, which Kurt deepened all too briefly.
He couldn't hold her in his arms for long, however, as the doorbell rang and she broke away from him, despite his protesting whimpers. She gave him one last look, half warning, half amused, before opening the door. "Dad!"
She threw her arms around his neck and Kurt could see a warm smile on Magneto's lips as he hugged his daughter. "My love." He released himself from her arms, very gently, and stroked her cheek tenderly, a loving look in his eyes. "Am I mistaken or are you becoming more beautiful with each passing day?"
Kurt could see in his mind's eye how she blushed and smiled sheepishly.
"You're exaggerating." Father and daughter exchanged words for a few moments before his gaze wandered over to Kurt. His smile disappeared in an instant and his expression became cold and distant, his hand pressed against his daughter's back. Kurt understood at that moment why she was so worried. That look alone was enough to kill him. Still, he put on his most charming smile and stepped towards him, hand outstretched as he did his best to suppress the nervous lashing of his tail. "Dad, this is Kurt Wagner, my boyfriend. I told you about him," she pressed, and after looking at Kurt for a few moments, he squeezed his hand.
It was a firm squeeze and Kurt was sure he was trying to break his hand, but he kept smiling. "I'm really pleased to meet you, sir." Magneto let go of his hand and looked at him skeptically for a moment.
"A bit bluer and furrier than the last one, eh?" She stepped forward and wrapped a hand around Kurt's arm, a forced smile on her lips. "Well, my taste has definitely improved."
The next hour was absolute torture for everyone involved—at least, that’s how Kurt felt. As she tensely tried to spark a conversation between Kurt and her father, Magneto's piercing gaze seemed to slice through Kurt. Kurt was fairly certain that this man disliked him on principle, which was a significant problem, because Kurt was pretty much in love with his daughter and had no intention of leaving her. "Darling," Magneto suddenly spoke up, but didn't take his eyes off Kurt felt like he was shrinking into the sofa cushions under that relentless stare. "Would you do me a favor and get me another drink?" Her gaze fluttered to Kurt, who tried to subtly shake his head in protest. She stood up, nodding.
"Sure," she replied, though her voice wavered slightly, betraying her uncertainty. She glanced back at Kurt, worry evident in her eyes. "Please don't kill him while I'm gone," she added, attempting to lighten the mood with a nervous chuckle.
He didn't answer, and Kurt didn't like the look Magneto gave him. The tension in the room grew worse and colder once she left, the door closing softly behind her. As soon as she was out of earshot, Magneto leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. One of the spoons on the table flew into the air, spinning slowly between them.
"So you think you deserve my daughter," Magneto said, his voice low and menacing. Kurt's eyes were fixed on the spinning spoon, his mind racing. He knew that with enough force and speed, even the bluntest object could be lethal. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his nerves.
"I wouldn't say I deserved her," Kurt began, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "I love her and she decided to give me a chance. Something she hasn't regretted yet."
Magneto's gaze narrowed. "'Not yet?' I really hope for your sake that she won't regret it in the future." Kurt swallowed and raised his hands. "Of course not. I just meant..."
"Hurt my little little girl," Magneto interrupted, his voice dangerously low, "and I'll make sure not even your god will help you."
"I..."
"I told her to stop dating, but as usual, she didn't listen to me," Magneto continued, cutting Kurt off again. Kurt didn't know where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he found himself speaking up. "Maybe you should learn to take a step back from your daughter's life." The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension. Magneto's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and anger, and for a moment, Kurt wondered if he had pushed too far. The silence stretched uncomfortably long, filled only with the soft hum of electricity from Magneto's control over the metallic objects in the room.
Magneto paused and looked at him, his face a mask of emotionlessness. "What was that?" Kurt, however, didn't let it get him down and returned his gaze with unwavering resolve. "Your daughter is an incredible woman—confident, independent, strong, intelligent. She doesn't need your permission to be in a relationship. You're her father. It's your job to support her, protect her when necessary, and be there for her. It's not your job to intrude on her happiness or make her feel bad just because you don't like me. If I ever hurt her, you can do whatever you want to me. But until then, just let us be happy and back off."
Magneto stared at him, and Kurt was pretty sure he was going to be stabbed with a teaspoon at any moment. The room was silent, Magneto's expression unreadable as he processed Kurt's words. Kurt could feel his heart pounding, each beat echoing in his ears. He had put everything on the line, knowing that one wrong move could spell disaster. Then something unexpected happened: Magneto chuckled and leaned back. "I've got to hand it to you, Elf, you know how to stand your ground."
Kurt didn't know what to say to that and just stared at him in shock. Just then, she returned with Magneto's drink, her eyes flicking between the two men. She handed it to her father and sat back down next to Kurt, her hand finding his and squeezing it reassuringly. Magneto took the drink, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at his daughter. She raised her eyebrow at that. "What did you do?" "Nothing," Magneto replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Kurt just proved to me that your taste has indeed improved, my dear."
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teaboot · 2 months
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holy moley the idea of alexander skarsgard as murderbot is irreconcilable in my head lol. when i read the book for my scifi class i pictured murderbot as more feminine in appearance tbh, and i thought it was weird that no one else in that class seemed to. i feel like i mightve missed something in the text bc i find it wild how widespread "murderbot looks like a man" is. or is their physical appearance more fleshed out in other books?
Murderbot (it/its so far as I've read) has so far been definitively described as having:
A Humanoid figure, with two arms and legs
A human face
Explicitly no genitalia, with none desired, and no primary or secondary sex characteristics noted
(In book one) Having hair only on its head, then eyelashes and eyebrows, being smooth everywhere else
Nonhuman features on its arms/legs that can be concealed under pants and long sleeves
Some kind of mechanical port on the back of its neck that is not uncommon on "augmented humans"
No distinct freckles, moles, or markings
An incomplete internal digestive system
By what isn't described I imagine we can safely assume that it has eight fingers and two thumbs in the usual formation, though wearing shoes I'm not sure about toes.
I also haven't heard anything apropos of scarring, except that it heals rapidly, so I imagine any distinguishing marks from injuries likely wouldn't last long.
Nobody as far as I've read has referred to it by any assumed binary or neo-pronouns, and as relatively progressive as the setting is in terms of queer and poly relationships I can easily imagine that agender humans with it/its pronouns wouldn't be too terribly strange in common company either.
So far, no third party characters have called it a "he" or "she", which could either mean that nobody in this universe adheres to our current rigid social view of the gender binary and masc/fem appearances, or that Murderbot is simply incredibly androgynous. As a reader, I like to think the reality is both- a secunit doesn't need to look distinctive or gendered or have any features it doesn't strictly need outside of its function. As it says in the book, it's not a sex-model, so it doesn't need sex-parts, and it wasn't made to be looked at.
I feel like the only reason anyone would read that and ascribe to it a male face and body is because our current western society tends to treat "white male" as the natural default setting, and anything else as "other".
We expect Murderbot to be a conventionally handsome white man because that's the popular view of neutral.
But there's no reason it couldn't be performed by an actor who is female, or Indigenous, or Korean, or anyone else from anywhere else
If our Pretty White Man isn't the default neutral in Murderbot's universe, and if there is no default neutral, then the Default Neutral Murderbot was designed to look like could be anyone
Provided, of course, that they 1. Have a human face 2. Have no freckles or moles (for book 1 at least) 3. Have two arms and legs, of some manner, and 4. Don't flash their junk on screen
Aa far as I'm concerned, that's all we need.
And you know what? I think the prospect of getting to choose any actor at all, point to them, and say "This person? They're the norm! They're unremarkable! They are a version of True Neutral, and they aren't a small-nosed blue-eyed white guy with abs!"... I think that's kind of exciting, and I sort of fear that it may be an overlooked opportunity to say something interesting
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loudclan-clangen · 2 months
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We have gotten a pretty good insight on how Rosehippaw illness had affected her and her parents but what about her sister?
As someone who knew someone who had a sick sibling it can be a big can of worms. Feelings of jealousy for the attention and special treatment thier sibling gets mixed with fear and sadness that the sibling is sick. I would love to know more about Dogwoodpaw as a person.
Love your work! ❤️
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Dogwoodpaw, my poor, sweet, tired little girl, has never had a negative thought toward her sister ever in her entire life. Some combination of being the older more capable sibling and taking after her mom means that she has completely dedicated her life to taking care of Rosehippaw, much to her parent's deep concern. She hasn't slept a day in her life. Every free moment is dedicated to keeping her sister caught up on training and every moment of her actual training is spent trying to figure out how she's going to teach it to Rosehippaw later. This has resulted in an incredible amount of talent for Dogwoodpaw, but she has outright refused an early graduation anytime it is brought up, insisting that she won't earn her warrior name until her sister does. It's sweet, but it can't last. Sooner or later something has to give, and that something is likely either going to be Rosehip dying or Dogwood snapping and resenting her sister for holding her back. For now though they're as close as can be, and though Rosehippaw might find her a little bit smothering at times, Dogwood wouldn't have it any other way.
[Disclaimer: Dogwoodpaw is NOT exhibiting healthy behavior. There is not a "right way" to react to complex situations like this.]
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Yes! At least if they want to become mediator at some point in the future. Theoretically they could give up their claim to the position if they wanted to, and then they would be allowed to, but that would be pretty uncommon.
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For future calculation "former mentor relationships" are on, (not because I think that is a good idea but because the drama) so there's a little more wiggle room there, but I can confidently tell you that Silt isn't looking for a mate right now, and won't be taking any current characters as a mate. (Personally, I think that they would make a power couple with Jaggedtail, but alas, it was up to the game). I'll also let you know that they in fact do not have any more kittens with Owlstar. If they did I wouldn't have broken them up in the comic. (Joining up with Tundra and Chickadee would be fun too, as they are pretty close friends with Chickadeeblur, but the poly update doesn't come out until the *checks notes* 6th leader... wow this save has been around a while.)
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