mandy4ever69420 · 2 months ago
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I saw one of your last asks about mickey and ian and i genuinely didn’t realise till now that there are fans that directly blame ian for mickey’s juvie/prison stints?? do they just not think mickey has any agency of his own or something? ian never told him to taunt kash or roofie sammi he did all that of his own accord because he was deeply in love and on an emotional hair trigger. I feel like this sounds like I think mickey deserved to be incarcerated because he clearly did not (I have similar opinions to you regarding prison abolition) but I think that fans implying ian deliberately and consciously drove mickey into these situations is insane and it feels like it’s just another reason they use to criticise him because they clearly just don’t like him that much
i don't think it's conscious on these peoples parts! (also, my info comes from reading meta i didn't like, you'd have to compare to fanfic works) i just think this is something people unintentionally imply by reacting very emotionally (understandable) to how fucked up and horrifying mickeys situation is and forgetting to take into account ian's own biases - in that ian is extremely prone to guilt as a first response to anything - when trying to evaluate how something should've gone down in plot. so i don't strictly think people are saying "i blame ian for mickeys incarceration" but moreso "i do not question ian's own explicitly clear feelings of guilt"
i've seen more people referring to ian as not being like... soft and gentle and understanding enough after the fact? which i mean that's just a personality trait i think people are easily fooled by season one ian acting so sweetie (because of his cute face and gross "soft" - more accurately, cowardly - older boyfriend) and forget that genuinely just. dropping his sympathy at mickeys feet is 1.not his style 2.something mickey would likely react extremely negatively to.
so reinforcing the idea that ian has SOMETHING to be guilty or atone for when the only person who's opinion matters doesn't gaf is just a reflection of the same harmful pattern that pushes ian to run away in the first place
ian being super gentle and supportive as a trait may be something people sort of want to convince themselves that they could or should see in him just because it's easier to understand. (similar to people who want to believe mickey is more social/actually had a close relationship with kevin or his brothers or guy #3 from episode whatever. literally always men though :/)
like, being imprisoned was going to be fucking awful no matter whether ian was visiting weekly or not. it didn't help that he was in a bad enough place to run away but the degree to which that hurt isn't the main problem. a lot of this is just people not thinking through what they're saying or how they're looking at something.
Also,
i didn't for a second think you sounded like you thought mickey deserved to be incarcerated :) it's actually a very important facet of how i apply my views on abolition to the show that mickey 100% did do the things he gets arrested for. ppl talk a lot about people incorrectly arrested or arrested for things that aren't actually a problem but to me it's super important to keep in mind that incarceration of the "guilty" still improves absolutely nothing
i've always found it odd to see anyone into shameless, who likes mickey, who doesn't pretty explicitly take on anti carceral thought. because mickey did break the law, we all saw it, and it was bad that he went to prison, we all agree on that. i hope and assume o_o
i think it's the same as the way that people will see fiona lip ian etc as very smart but limited by circumstance and forget to conclude that this is the case for most if not all people with no money / terrible family / disability. we can SEE that mickey had if not "good" then at least sad and understandable reasons for doing what he did and that prison didn't help (made things worse. naturally). but if you're not careful you treat it as an exceptional case instead of imagining this may apply to practically everyone in the prison system.
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izupie · 2 years ago
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It really bothers me to see fanfiction writers discussing how to/how not to write certain characters. because I'm like, my dudes. we are on tumblr dot com. we are writing stories about our favourite characters like they're dolls in the dollhouses of our mind.
you can't be sitting there on some kind of fanfiction high horse preaching out that everyone "can't" write this certain character in the way you've decided that you, personally, don't like.
i don't care how many hits your fics have got - like that makes you valid?
filter out the tags you don't enjoy on ao3 by all means, but you can't turn around and say that the way you dislike them being written is 'wrong' - that's your opinion and that's great but it doesn't affect how someone else writes them.
who are you that your opinion matters more? who are you to be the judge and jury on what is in or out of character when you didn't even create them in the first place? sound confident and condescending all you want, doesn't make your opinion any more or less valid than any other fan in the fandom.
Write characters any way you want to. fanfiction is supposed to be fun. if another fan tries to police you about the way you've portrayed a certain character tell them that you hope their toast always burns. and that they need a new hobby.
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zentraex · 7 months ago
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
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It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened. 
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 
"The keys?" 
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him. 
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  
What were you going to do now? 
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped. 
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
Shit. 
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol? 
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again.��
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened. 
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 
But honestly? 
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 
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elixrr · 10 months ago
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game ��😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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i-am-nabi · 20 days ago
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【just choose!】
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚pairing: ot8 poly skz x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: your boyfriends want to know who the biggest is, and they came up with an.. umm.. let's just say, interesting solution. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: suggestive, mentions of fucking, dick comparison, polyamorous relationship, its honestly just awkward, i tried to make it kinda funny but my humor is absolute shit ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: MINORS DNI! pls what is this absolute shit that i wrote its genuinely so bad but idk what to write anymore!! wtf do i do but anyways, english isn't my first language, so there might be grammar issues and such. enjoy if you can ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
you woke up from your nap for the 4th time at the sound of your boyfriends arguing. god, why were they like this.. after a few minutes of contemplating your life decisions, minho comes and picks you up. "LEE MINHO, PUT ME DOWN RIGHT THIS INS-", just slings you over his shoulder and carries you up to the bedroom. as you got closer, the sounds of the ruckus got louder. great. weren't you just in the perfect mood for this. "someone please explain why all nine of us are in here right now.." you said, after being dragged into the room. all of them just started mumbling incoherently, like they were embarrassed about what they were arguing about. "ok bitch get to the point." "so who's bigger?", yes, that was jeongin. "what the FUCK", you replied. "well you said get to the point", "why are you so blunt about i-" "no but like you don't have to be so straightforward" "guys you can clearly see that she's uncomfortabl-" "ok everyone SHUT THE FUCK UP and let her choose" "yeah just choose!", yes, this is still jeongin. "i'm not doing that." "why nott" "she just doesn't want to hurt your feelings when she admits it's me", said seungmin. "oh please, we all know she's gonna pick me." "guys please this is stupid", "ok just admit yours is small jisung." uhh it's okay. they'll get over it. one day. unfortunately, that day won't be today. "let's have a contest!" "what are we even gonna do? see who can fuck her the best? that's pathe-" "YES ABSOLUTELY" "um guys i don't think that's the best idea..", you said. "i mean like size doesn't really matter if you know how to use it" and here comes the maknae again. ready to guilt trip you into their plan that you can't tell if they really made to solve their argument, or they just made to have an excuse to fuck you dumb. "pleeaaassssee-" "fuck you i'll do it." honestly, you kinda wanted to do it. just as an excuse to get fucked dumb. "well who's going first?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ a/n: i can't write smut for my LIFE idk what im gonna do about part 2.. this is worse than my first fanfictions i fear!! i hate this so much but im gonna post it anyway because i haven't posted in like a month
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hiramaris · 7 months ago
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Kiss it Off Me
CHAPTER 5
Chapter Summary:
The farmer have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. And apparently, Haley just happens to be there— All the time.
Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer
Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.
Warning: alcohol
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Gif by  LoucoMarx's Artwork
If anyone told Haley she'd grown fond of you at the beginning of the year, she'd probably laugh at their faces. 
It's weird.
How you become a constant presence in her life right now that it would be weird not to see you even once a day.
It had been apparently a routine for you, and unfortunately (fortunate) for her, that you'd drop by the 2 Willow Lane every morning as long as it's beyond 8am to have breakfast with them.
Emily is more than willing to accommodate you, saying along the lines "Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."
Ridiculous.
Of course Haley had to be on her best behavior. You didn't need to see her and Emily squabble for the second time around. That would be embarrassing.
Well... that's what she likes to think. What she allows herself to think.
Because why else would you even stick around with someone as mean as her and give her all these gifts?
And why the hell is Haley even putting up with this?
She'd like to think it's because you want to get something from her. Let's say an ulterior motive.
But deep down she knows it's simply because you're just nice. 
At first, you looked like you're trying a little too hard to be liked by everyone else. Why else would you give almost everyone gifts instead of actually selling them and make profit? It just doesn't make sense. 
But the moment Haley experienced your kindness firsthand, she knew to herself that there's really no other ulterior motive behind all the easy smiles and gifts you were giving Haley.
So, even though she tried not to like it, she found herself actively looking for your presence.
Luckily for her, it just so happens the farmer also have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 
Surprisingly this time, Haley doesn't seem to mind.
Spring 17
This damn thing.
Haley let out an exasperated sigh as she stared at the stubborn jar in front of her, glaring it with such hatred she hoped it might open itself from the pressure. Her hands were already starting to hurt from trying to twist the lid open.
Can't she have a break? She just wants to cook breakfast today since Emily's out and all, and Haley can finally show you some of her cooking skills at home.
Yeah, sure she can be absolutely lazy with household chores but cooking is actually something she loved to do.
"Come on, just open already!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
Haley tried to use all her strength to open the jar, letting out a loud grunt as she felt her palms tingle with pain. But no matter how hard she tried, the stupid lid just wouldn't budge.
She was so busy trying to open the damn thing that she didn't noticed your presence behind her with an amused grin plastered all over your face, clearly finding humor at her antics.
"You need some help?" you voiced out behind her.
"Ugh," a flash of surprise flickered on her eyes when she turned around and locked her eyes with you before her face morphed into a mock scowl. "How does it feel seeing me in pain?"
You chuckled at her exaggeration. "Aw, does the baby needs help?" 
"Hmp." She squinted her eyes at that. "I was about to cook breakfast for us but now I don't feel like doing it."
She crossed her arms in mock anger for good measure.
How dare she calls her baby? And for the wrong reasons, too! 
The nerve!
"Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here," Haley's frustration quickly turned into surprise as she felt you tugged her by the loop of her belt, pulling her close to your body. The heat that radiates from your skin ignites a fire in Haley's belly.
You reached over and snatched the jar out of Haley's grip, flicking it open with a simple twist of your wrist. You then swiftly returned it to Haley's hand and gave her a look that could only be described as smug.
"Piece of cake," you bragged with a grin.
Haley cleared her throat, masking her embarrassment as she playfully shoved you away. "Hmp. You're stronger than you look."
You narrowed your eyes at her, and Haley caught a mischievous glint in your gaze.
"What do you mean, 'stronger than I look'?" you retorted, a hint of challenge dripping in your voice. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know?"
"Oh, really now?"
As if to prove your point, you rolled up your sleeves up to your shoulders, flexing your muscles just long enough for Haley to appreciate how farm works definitely did wonders to your physiques, not that you weren't already toned before, but you're definitely becoming a little buffer.
Those farmer clothes just hid them all this time.
Haley's mouth went dry. "Y-yeah, yeah, show off."
It's amazing how Haley still manage to act like this when a simple act of flexing had her gotten her hot and bothered.
She's never been one to swoon over muscles before (Alex's muscle only made her gag most of the time), but there's something about the way you look right now that has her feeling all kinds of things.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any impure ideas.
She didn't want to give you the satisfaction of stroking your already growing ego. Haley' sure that you are well aware of your effect on her, and if she let it show, you would only be so smug about it.
Sometimes, Haley regrets letting you be friends with Alex. Clearly, he's rubbing off you already.
"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."
"How many are you?" you readily quipped.
Haley suddenly choked on her own spit as heat rose to her cheeks at your sudden boldness. (What the hell? What the what?)
"I'm gonna hit you," Haley threatened half-heartedly as she tried to regain her composure (and dignity.)
She has to make this stop or else everything will be too much for her. Which was a frequent occurrence nowadays when you're near her.
"Okay, okay!" you barked out a laugh, seemingly oblivious to your effect on Haley, much to her relief. "I'll help you cook, alright?"
"Fine. But you're going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."
"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let's do it your way."
Yeah, you definitely had the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 
And probably say the right things at the least opportune time. 
Does Haley mind? 
Definitely not.
Spring 20
The Flower Festival is in four days, and Haley will be damned if she'd be anything but flawless.
Currently lounging on her couch, Haley was draped in a flimsy white towel, the only piece of cloth covering her body besides the face mask she had just applied, and a soft towel wrapped around her hair to soak up some excess water.
She had already finished exfoliating her body, scrubbing away all the stresses and strains of the past few days. Of course, she can't forget moisturizing, too. Despite her naturally flawless skin, it took loads of branded lotions, scrubs and moisturizers (so worth the money) to keep it this perfect.
In short, it's her pampering day.
Haley was a true believer in the power of self-care, and she spared no expense in ensuring that every inch of her body was pampered to perfection.
And she can't afford to be stressed today.
Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch.
Emily's usual nagging was nothing more than a minor annoyance that she brushed off without a second thought. And Alex, bless his heart, had the good sense to steer clear the moment he laid eyes on her with her bag of beauty essentials in tow.
He's also been kind enough to pass the message to you. Saying he'll just ask you to play ball with him or whatever to keep you busy earlier that morning.
Nothing, she repeats, nothing could ruin this nigh—
Her phone ringing was absolutely the least she expected to hear.
She was tempted to not answer, assuming it will be Emily on the other line. She doesn't call often during her shift, but if she does, she would occasionally ask Haley to bring either her apron or her shoes.
So, Haley's a little bit apprehensive about answering.
There's no way she's gonna be waltzing around outside just to give Emily her damn apron when she just finished her self-care!
Curiosity got the best of her though. With a deep breath, she swiped the answer button, hesitantly bringing the device to her ear.
"What?" she snapped, a little irritated at the interruption.
"Thank Yoba you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't." Emily babbled on the other line.
"Just spit it out, Em."
"Um," Haley can hear her hesitation. "Y/n/n's a little out of it and I kind of need help to get her home."
Haley sat a little bit straight at the mention of your name. "What do you mean she's out of it?"
"She's drunk."
For the love of Yoba—
What the hell are you thinking getting your ass drunk like that?
"Hay, are you still there?"
Haley has to literally calm herself down before speaking again. "I'm sorry but I can't. I just finished applying my face mask!"
"I see, I just thought since you're close with her and all..." Emily sounded a bit disappointed but didn't pushed it further. "I may just have to ask Penny to get her hom—"
"Be there in 5," was all Haley said before going to her room to get dressed.
She's going to kill you.
****
In no time at all, Haley arrived at the Saloon in her pajamas, hair damped and bare faced and everything. 
She saw Emily waiting outside, a visibly worried expression etched on her face. "Where is she?" Haley asked, her tone urgent.
Emily motioned towards the Saloon's door. "She's inside."
Normally, Haley wouldn't be caught alive inside her sister's workplace but that's the least of her concerns right now. "What the hell happened?"
"Since it was Shane's birthday and all. Y/n/n kind of bet with him who could drink the most beer without getting drunk. Safe to say no one won, huh?" Emily had the audacity to sound so sheepish. 
Haley nodded absentmindedly and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.
Sure enough, you were there, slumped over the bar with a couple of empty bottle of beer beside her. Shane's there too, but he's unconscious on the floor with Marnie trying her absolute best to wake her nephew up. 
Haley wanted to be mad at you. You literally made Haley walked across town with nothing but her pajamas! She also never go out without makeup and especially when she has just finished her skin care!
But what the hell.
Her heart could only flutter at the sight. How can someone be an idiot and cute at the same time?
She strode over to you and placed a hand on your back, careful not to startle you. "Y/n, come on. Let's get you home," she chided softly.
You groaned softly, lifting your head slightly at the sound of her voice, your eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Hay..? Is that you..?"
"Yeah, it's me," Haley answered, helping you to your feet. She took your arm and wrapped them around her shoulder, while her other arm secured its place on your waist to keep youfrom falling. "Come on, let's go."
Having the inability to stand by yourself, Haley found you leaning almost half of your weight on her.
Yoba, you're quite heavy. 
"You smell geurd..." you slurred more.
Haley tried to fight herself from flushing at the comment. It did not help that your face is practically buried at the side of her neck.
"I know," Haley tried to retort. "And you smell like beer." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust.
On the contrary, you actually smelled like freshly picked lemons and mint apart from the subtle scent of beer. It seemed that you prepared for this occasion and showered accordingly.
Haley briefly nods in approval. You didn't smell as bad as she expected, you weren't even sweaty, too compared to Shane here.
Haley stole a quick glance at him, noting his unruly stubble, tattered hoodie, and unkempt hair.
It was evident he hadn't exactly prioritized cleanliness lately. Haley couldn't help but be grateful that you were the complete opposite. But she decided not to dwell on it. After all, it was Shane's birthday, and he was entitled to be himself, even if it meant being his usual slightly musty, emo self.
"Even in my prime years I wasn't able to drink that much beer!" Pam cackled at the background, catching Haley's attention. She's clearly only tipsy despite the massive number of empty bottles in front of her. "Kids these days, really." She shook her head before turning to Emily. "Kid, can you give me some more mead?"
"Sure, Pam." Emily looks at Haley apologetically. "Sis, can you—"
"I got it. It's okay."
Leah, who had been eyeing them from the table decided to make her way towards them. "Do you need help?" before adding jokingly, "I didn't know Y/n/n was a drinker."
"Well, at least she's a lot calmer than Pam." Gus chimes in. "And a whole lot lesser violent than Shane here." He added as he eyed Shane on the floor with a couple of empty bottles beside him. Marnie is still trying to wake him up.
Haley raised an immaculate brow.
If Leah wanted to help maybe it would have been useful a couple of hours ago if she stopped this dungus from doing a stupid bet. Haley didn't dare say that though, and bit her tongue to stop saying something foul, instead, she opted with a strained, "thanks, but I got this." 
"You sur—"
The door of the Saloon swung open once again, and another redhead came straight to them. "What happened?" Penny asked in urgent. She's clad in her pajamas as well and her usually immaculate hair was down, which tells she's also ready for bed. "Mom called that Y/n/n was dru—"
"Kiddo, you're here!" Pam cheered loudly, Gus can only grimace at her antics. "I was just saying here that Y/n definitely won the bet!"
"Mom..." Penny sighed. "You should have stopped her. Y/n has work tomorrow."
"Hmp. It wouldn't hurt to have fun. Let the kid get loose a little. She's already been working hard."
Knowing it's no use to argue with her drunk mom. Penny turned to Haley, giving her a polite smile. "Do you need help taking her home?"
"Yeah!" Leah agreed beside her. "My cabin's near her farm, it would be no problem at all."
Haley tries to mask the sudden annoyance she feels at the women in front of her, and as well as the struggle she's feeling under the weight of the farmer. But she stood her ground stubbornly. She fakes a smile. "I got this."
"Are you s—"
"I got this." She repeated, this time firmly.
****
She definitely did not got this. 
You were thoughtful enough to stay still while Haley guided you out of the Saloon. But once they took a turn near 2 Willow Lane, the farmer started wriggling against her grasp.
"W-where... we going..?" you asked, slurring. 
"I'm taking you home," Haley replied in between grunts. 
What the hell is she even thinking?
She should have accepted Penny's help— hell, even Leah's help would be also appreciated but Haley just didn't like the idea of having those two around you.
Yeah, she knew you're friends with these two girls but Emily called her first, right? Never mind that she declined it first but Haley didn't want to be a bad friend letting you slumped all night long over that greasy bar. 
"Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."
You narrowed your eyes at her, holding up three fingers, "I had 9. Shane I think..." you held out a finger to her chin, "had 7."
Haley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I'm pretty sure I'm not that dumb to count 3 on your fingers."
"It's 3 times 3." 
"Yeah, sure."
"Yeah! And I'm completely sober," you declared, as if your words alone were enough proof. But your actions told a different story, as you stumbled once again, prompting Haley to exclaim, "stay still, you dungus!"  before you manage to free yourself away from Haley's arms. "See?" 
"Clearly." Haley answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached you. You were swaying dangerously and on the verge of collapsing over Marnie's fence.
"Oops—" You flashed a stupid grin as Haley caught you just in time, preventing you from face-planting into one of the feces of Marnie's cows. "Thanks, babe."
Haley almost dropped you at the unexpected endearment.
Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she internally debated whether to abandon you here or let her own remaining shreds of dignity vanish into the night.
She coughed awkwardly, trying to regain her composure. "Wow, you sure are flirty tonight. You sure you're sober?" 
"I don't know," You answered truthfully, sounding strangely sober. You came to a halt, causing Haley to stop as well. "The only time I allow myself to be this close to you without my heart pounding in my chest is in the reality I've created in my dreams. So, tell me, Haley..."
Under the moonlight, your eyes held an intensity and softness that seemed almost impossible.
"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"
****
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Notes:
I absolutely adore all those who left some comments from the past chapters. Thank you so much!
Alsooooo, I know it's a bit overdue buuuut
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K LIKES AND 100 FOLLOWERS! I didn't really expect this account to blow up like this but I really, really appreciate you guys and your patience for me.
I am so sorry for the delays as well. I just have a lot of things happening at the same time, you know, with uni and everything.
And I feel like I owe you guys a chapter. So here ya go!
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ineffablyruined · 1 year ago
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Chekhov's Contract
Back again for Day 3 of the Nice and Accurate Prophecies event.
How Will Our Hero Cope?
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Today, we let's talk about Crowley. Within the span of a few hours, Crowley has gone to Heaven and learned of another plotted End of the World, watched the closest thing he has to an archnemesis (Gabriel) run off with his demon love of a meager four years and suffer no consequences for it, and left his heart shattered on the floor of the bookshop as the love of his life chooses a job promotion over him. He's not doing great. So what is in store for Crowley in Season 3?
It's honestly hard to predict because there is just so much open space to play with. He could do anything and not one of us would be surprised.
Sleep for a century? There's precedent. Get extremely drunk for weeks on end? That's on brand. Go tit for tat and take a leadership position in Hell just to cancel out Aziraphale in Heaven? Seems unlikely, but I also wouldn't be surprised at that level of petty lashing out.
But I did find one thing. At least, I think I did.
There was, I have now convinced myself, a Chekhov's Gun in Season 2 that I haven't seen anyone talking about. (Apologies if you're out there screaming and I just haven't seen it. I did try searching!)
When Beelzebub kidnaps Crowley from the Bentley and takes him to Hell to discuss the Gabriel situation, they make an offer to Crowley that Crowley later accepts. And what is that?
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Find Gabriel for me and you can have whatever your nasty little heart desires.
And what does Crowley do in Episode 6? Finds the writing on the box that tells everyone Gabriel is in the fly. He finds Gabriel for Beelzebub.
Just to emphasize that again - Crowley fulfills his side of a verbal contract forged with the Grand Duke of Hell.
He's now owed whatever his heart desires. And as we've seen, Heaven and Hell operate like businesses. Contracts must be fulfilled. (Excuse me while my little lawyer-nerd heart sings over here.)
And we also know that he's aware that Heaven has plans for Armageddon 2.0.
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Where he would absolutely deserve to wallow after all the utter bullshit drama he's gone through, I don't believe that's Crowley (no matter how much fun it makes to write in fanfiction). Crowley isn't just going to sit back and watch the world burn.
In the past, when Crowley has wanted to run away, it's only ever been with Aziraphale. Sure, he threatens he's going to head to Alpha Centauri even when Actually rejects the offer, but he doesn't do it.
And now? Running away with Aziraphale isn't an option because he's gone.
Crowley has nothing left to lose. So he's going to throw his entire self into saving the world, with reckless disregard for his own safety.
And he's going to have a blank check from Hell to do it.
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temis-de-leon · 5 months ago
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When Greed is too much
Characters: Mammon x gn!MC
Main Masterlist
M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.
A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end
.
Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.
He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.
Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.
His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.
And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.
Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.
Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.
At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.
It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.
Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.
Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.
After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.
And then they got home.
“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.
“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”
He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.
“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”
“I’ve never put them in danger”
His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.
“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”
“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”
“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”
“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”
Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.
“You truly never learn”
“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”
“Mammon”
After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.
“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”
“What…?”
“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”
Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.
He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.
Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.
He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.
They were fine.
They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.
Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.
He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.
A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.
His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.
“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”
He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.
“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.
“For what, dummy?”
“I put you in danger”
MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.
“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”
“But they almost attacked us…”
“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”
“No”
The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.
He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.
In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.
What did that human movie say?
He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.
.
.
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recuira · 1 year ago
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after hours
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after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction
for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
chapter one chapter two chapter three
chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.
his pov;
"Your wanted poster."
Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.
I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"
"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."
"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"
"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"
"Did he kill people?"
"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."
"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"
"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.
"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"
"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."
"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"
I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."
"But why?"
"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"
"Of course."
"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."
"All because of him?"
I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.
"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."
"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.
"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."
"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"
"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."
She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."
"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."
"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."
"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.
"We're good." She shook it.
I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.
"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."
"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.
"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."
"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."
Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"
"Years ago, when I was fifteen."
"You're lying!"
"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."
"What happened?"
I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."
If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."
"And?"
"I swallowed it whole."
She gasped, "And you're alive?"
"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."
"Did you get a power from it?"
I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."
"You can fly?"
"Ha! Nope."
"Read minds?"
"It's body-altering."
"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.
"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"
"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.
"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"
"Even... ya know?"
I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."
"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"
"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.
"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"
"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."
I cringed. "Really?"
"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."
I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"
"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."
"Meet your mom?"
"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."
"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."
"Will you, at least, consider it?"
"Sure," I smirked.
"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."
"Bye," I murmured with a smile.
As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.
Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.
I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.
If she saw this, I would kill myself.
I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.
I looked over the first paragraph,
'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'
I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.
I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.
Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.
I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.
But right now?
I needed to go get another coat.
-=-
her pov;
My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.
She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.
She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.
I grimaced at the thought.
Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.
With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.
My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.
Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.
I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.
I looked around, admiring everything.
As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.
I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.
"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."
"No worries, I'm only teasing."
"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.
"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.
"Dinner? Are you available?"
"Hmm, it depends. What time?"
"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."
"What did you tell her?"
"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.
"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.
"So? Can you?"
"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"
I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"
"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."
"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."
The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.
"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.
I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."
"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."
I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."
Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."
The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.
I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"
"What's on the menu?"
"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."
"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."
"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.
"Oh, so it's yours now?"
"No?" I gulped.
Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."
"No, I like this one."
The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.
I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.
A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.
I couldn't imagine him without it.
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hummingbee-lievable · 3 months ago
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Song of the Day #24:
'Mile Magnificent' by Molly OfGeography (released 2019).
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An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean
Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free
All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees
Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline
Track #4 on 'Myths'.
Fun fact: Molly refers to this song as 'The Song My Producer Said I Was Not Allowed To Name “CHICAGO IS BETTER THAN NEW YORK”'.* Honestly, her descriptions for so of the songs on this album are hilarious:
'1) The Song That Made My Producer Go, “Wait, What Was That Bit About Worms?”
2) The Song My Producer Said I Had To Append A Parenthetical To So That People Would Be Able To Find It Because The Lyrics Never Mention The Title Once But I Was Raised On Fanfiction So Joke’s On You, Pal! I Love A Long Title With A Parenthetical In It!!!
3) The Song That Is Sad'
Pretty dang accurate, honestly. Also, I think she has a Tumblr!!! *Gasp.* What if I...tag her???
@ofgeography Hiiii and thank you, your music is amazing.
I did it bees and knees (yes, this is my hip modern way of including every kind of person, fight me or provide more hilarious options; I'm content with either option).
I have had a fun time perusing this flavourful dose of humanity's wild website and I think my fun fact today should be her story where she becomes a donut god:
You're welcome, singular entity that reads this blog (that entity being my sister and/or the rogue bots, doesn't matter, we're all friends here).
Personal blurb: Alright, full disclosure time: I discovered this artist because of the 'Good Omens' fandom. Someone said we were missing out on feelings and shared this song, and when I tell you I felt those feelings, I certainly don't mean that I danced to this on repeat for several months (and her 'Hanahaki (Bloom)'), often at 3 in the morning in the bathroom. Of course not.
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Pro tip: dancing with your toothbrush in your mouth is a choking hazard, but in the spirit of Alanis Morissette, I recommend doing it anyway:
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One of my favourite books in the world is 'The Overstory' by Richard Powers. In it, one of the themes that arises often is the concept of pyrophitic serotinous plants (it's okay, I won't remember it either). They are plants that need fire to open. (There are actually different types of pyrophitic plants, from passive to fire-activated but I probably shouldn't start talking about that because you'll need to pull out the duct tape.)
(Technically, 'serotinous' plants are a category in which plants release seeds over a longer period of time, and it doesn't matter how they are released, but the seeds that open by fire fit into this category.) The eucalyptus tree, the lodgehole pine, and other trees encase their seeds in resin that can only be melted by fire (thereby releasing the seeds).
The thing that I love about this concept is this: we need to burn to grow. I recently read this book called 'Life in Oil' about the Cofàn tribe in Ecuador who were drastically impacted by oil companies. And the thing was: Yes. They were impacted horribly (physically, psychologically, environmentally, the works). They also survived. They figured out, through tumult and trial and falling apart, how to keep going.
This song screams to me of that same instinct. I mean, look at us. This is what we do, isn't it? We fight, we fall, we continue. We're just like every other aspect of nature in that we are born, and in our fight to continue, we impact everything around us. We're just a part of the cycle and eventually we will decay back to where we belong and serve as soil for our children. And all we'll be? A story. And after a while, not even that. Just a whisper of what was.
In a way? I find that freeing. We might as well live the life we want to live; how little it will matter. (This isn't absolution, please don't go murdering people.) I just mean that I don't have to put so much weight into every little thing. Not everything has to be joyful or depressing (and if we really think about it, everything is always a balance of both). It can just be what it is.
We are as we are. And we don't have to love ourselves for it, but we don't have to hate ourselves either.
I love the lyrics to this song. For a long time, I misheard 'We're animals of love/ the city never makes us beg' as 'the city never makes us pay' and I don't know why? But I kind of like that image.
We are animals of love. And that's okay.
We are the cogs in a continuous cycle and we always will be.
I think often of this monologue (content warning for the video, it's gory, but you don't need to watch it, you can just listen) from 'Midnight Mass' so often, in regards to this:
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We just are. Everything just is.
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romanarose · 14 days ago
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Supportive Logan Thoughts: Writer GF
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Logan Howlett x fem!writer!gf
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me
Summary: You're an aspiring writer, but having trouble finding time to write. Logan shows his complete faith in you, no matter what your family thinks.
Warnings: Not a lot, unsupportive/mean family. My massive daddy issues
A/n: I wanted to write this for myself because Im feeling massively unsupported by my family and several friends, and I with I had a partner with this much faith in me. I have another one I wanna do with supportive logan and reader who wants to continue education. If you have any self indulgant ideas you wanna hear, send em! It'll probs be short but I can have Logan say things i think you'd want to hear in a way that makes sense for him. Trans and lgbt themes encouraged.PS: catch the bobs burgers reference?
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Dinner had been going pretty well, comparatively. Logan hadn't snapped at your dad for his passive aggression, and your mom hadn't commented on how you'd gained weight. It wasn't your fault your beloved boyfriend seemed to be fattening you up!
All in all, a peaceful dinner.
Until your brother, Mark, had to be a dick.
"You still writing on Wattpad?" He asked, an innocent enough question but you knew that tone. Logan stiffened, so you put a hand on his thigh. He chewed hard on the broccoli.
You brace yourself a bit. "Yeah, I got the fanfictions. But I'll have you know, it's a fun hobby and I do pretty well for myself-"
"Writing men kissing on tumblr isn't a hobby any more than making a porno is."
Logan speaks, through a full mouth. "I bet you're the porn expert, considering you're not getting any from anyone else."
"Except your mom."
You raise to hands at both Logan and Mark "Knock if off you two!"
Your mom is glaring at Mark for mentioning porn at the table, but he's pretending to be very interested in his chicken Alfredo.
Still, your dad always has something to say. "It's a shame you can't make money off that. I don't really understand why you do it."
"For fun?" You didn't know what not to get. Your grandma made terrible janky blankets and you all gushed over them. You loved them of course, because it was grandma. Why couldn't you have a hobby weather or not you were good?
But Logan wouldn't let the silence be filled with your families assumptions. "Well, she's writing a book, actually. And it's good, really fu- I mean, it's really good." Logan abides by your moms no swearing rule, but she pays no mind to the always f word as she somehow finds a reason to embarrass you.
"Oh she's always talking about some book or whatever. As a kid it was mystery because she was into the boxcar children. As a teen she was going to write the next big dystopian trilogy." She covers her mouth as she laughs about it.
Logans hand flexes and tightens under the table, trying to remain calm. "And what did you say when she told you about these?"
"Well, I told her she should be more realistic. I mean, I read some of her writing-"
"Because you snooped through my notebooks!"
"And it wasn't exactly Hunger Games."
Logan set down his plate. "So let me get this straight, Diane."
"Lo..." You warn.
"You snooped through notebooks that your daughter wrote by hand on notebooks, at what, 14, 15? Told her that this first draft, which I cannot stress enough, was written on a notebook, wasn't good enough to be published, then you're shocked she didn't finish it?"
When you're moms mouth gapped, your dad stepped in. "She doesn't finish anything, I'm sure you picked up on that. I mean, how many half started art projects are in your house right now?"
An embaressing amount. The other day, you found three different blankets with the same color scheem started. Three! Thrice, you had the same idea and never followed through.
Your boyfriend was not deterred. "Well, maybe, she needs someone whose going to support her, encourage her. Didn't seem like she had a lot of that before."
"WHELP!" You slap your knees, then stand up. "This has been great, but as usual we passed the 15 minute mark, and right on cue, it's time to go."
Your dad was as stubborn as Logan was and stood too. "Oh yeah, and just what are you gonna do to support her, to magically fixed years of fail-"
As you pulled Logan toward the door, Logan counts off on his fingers. "One, tell her that she can actually do it, because she CAN, two, check in on her and let her brainstorm with me. Have you ever actually asked about her plot? No?"
You're giggling to yourself now. Dinner was ruined, but you liked that Logan didn't stand for people talking bad about you.
"And three, she's gonna quit her job so she can focus on writing!"
Well. That one was new. Logan always encouraged your novel in progress, he listened about the characters and offered ideas, gave you a sounding board that wasn't judgmental. Yes, you've complained about no time for writing when you work so much but... No matter, you show a united front in front of your dad.
"Yeah! Because he believes in me." And you were out the door.
*
The drive back was quiet. Espresso was on the radio, and you knew he must be distracted because he didn't change the station, so you spoke first.
"I don't have to quit my-"
"I was gonna talk to you about-"
You both start at the same time. Then you laugh. "You first, Lo."
His body language relaxes for the first time tonight. "I didn't mean to spring that on yuh." I don't wancha to think I'm like. Trying to tell you what to do or make you financially dependent."
"I don't." You assure him. "So... you thought about this?"
He nods. "Yeah I um... I really think you got something good here, baby. I think if you took leave for a while ad really could just focus on the book, it could be something great. I mean, I don't know much about books but even I like it, so... you know... it's gotta be good."
Warmth fills your body as a blush festers under your skin. Logan really believed in you. He believed in your book enough that he was willing to take this risk on you.
"Can we... afford that?"
"Well I thought..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can always take overtime at work. If I pick up another day or two-"
"Logan! I can't ask your to do that!"
"You're not." He turns to you briefly, smiling, then back to the road. "I'm asking to do this for you, if you'll let me. Then, when you're a high falutin writer, I can be your sugar baby." He pokes yoru side, making you giggle
Still, seed of doubt were deeply entrenched. "But what if I don't do good? It doesn't sell?"
Logan shrugs. "Well, I guess... then you'll try again. Or you don't, an you'll know you finished it and you tried."
A pause. "You're really willing to do this for me?"
"Baby..." He places a hand on yours, eyes once again drifting only briefly from the road to you, then back. "I'd get the moon right now if you asked. Let me do this for us."
For us.
***********
Okay thats it im done im sorry, that was my own daddy issues, mommy issues, brother issues- lort help lmfao
anyway if you like this, check out my other stuff on my masterlist! if you like dark content, most of my logan is being written over at @romana-after-dark
the bobs burgers referece was the 15 min rule. at exactly 15 min, big bobs says something mean to bob asdfghjkl
my middle brother hosted a surprise party for my parents anniversary and we decided to have me an the ret of my siblings be surprise one, have my oldest brother hiding bc he lives the furthest away for surprise 2, then downstairs my extended family for three. My dad walks in, sees me and my youngest brother who he was't expecting, and before he even says hi he says "where's *oldest brother*" so that felt cool. And we got into a bit of an arguement where he was discrediting my feelings about the move when i was a teenager, and then my brothers and sister were assholes- and i just kept thinking i want logan or santi or joel here to protect me and defend me even against little stuff.
enough about me!
send your requests! give me chubby read, black reader, trans reader, native reader, bi reader, male reader- literally whatever tf you want. I cant say it'll be as long as this one but i got you. you desver to feel supported.
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umbracirrus · 1 year ago
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Okay, so, I have recently been thinking about axes and their importance in Nord culture in Skyrim, in part because I have something planned in a fanfiction that involves giving an axe and have been doing a little bit of research into it, and I have gone down a bit of a rabbit hole so please bear with me on this mini essay in which I have pulled together my thoughts/observations about axes in Skyrim and my two favourite Jarls, Balgruuf and Ulfric.
So, as anyone who has done the Civil War quests in Skyrim would know, there is a pivotal point in which the balance of power in Skyrim shifts either towards the Empire or the Stormcloaks based purely upon the player's alignment - when Whiterun either aligns with the Imperials or is taken by force by the Stormcloaks. Of course, there is one particular event which happens immediately before the battle begins, and that is the delivery of an axe.
However, at this point I would just like to bring up something which will become relevant later no matter what your alignment - at the point of the axe being sent, you have been named a Thane of Whiterun. Balgruuf won't hear anything to do with the Civil War when a dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower, so becoming both Dragonborn and a Thane is a prerequisite to the Civil War.
If you align with the Empire, it is Balgruuf who decides to send an axe. If you ask why, he gives the explanation that "if he returns it to you it means we have business to settle. If he keeps it, then we are at peace.", and if you ask whether you should say anything, he says that Ulfric knows what it means (also important for later!). The other dialogue option which isn't just 'sure, okay, I'll do that' also says that it is tradition, and that Ulfric honours traditions.
Obviously, Ulfric doesn't accept it and you return to Balgruuf with the news that he will be attacking Whiterun and suddenly, the city is under siege. When you win, Balgruuf personally thanks you for what you have done after his victory speech.
Now, on the other side of things, if you side with the Stormcloaks, it is Ulfric who gives you the axe to take to Balgruuf, but his explanation is much more... succinct. "If he keeps it, I will bide my time. If he returns it to you, it means war."
And as with the other side, because the game would be pretty boring is Balgruuf was to go "sure, I accept Ulfric's axe", he rejects the axe and that in turn means that you return to Ulfric with his axe, and he expresses his disappointment that Balgruuf had done so.
The two Jarls wanted the other on their side, but their views were fundamentally different they couldn't accept. 😭Sending their axes was just a formality, a way of saying 'this is it, we have to fight now'.
So what I am basically getting at, the civil war quest establishes that giving an axe is a way of determining allies and enemies, depending on whether it is accepted or rejected.
Coming back to what I mentioned earlier, in order to do the civil war quest and to talk to Balgruuf in order to either give him Ulfric's axe or to give his axe to Ulfric, you have to have become the Dragonborn and are a Thane of Whiterun. When you become a Thane in Skyrim, you end up receiving a weapon as a reward, typically named 'Blade of *insert hold name here*'. Except in two places.
Whiterun, and Eastmarch. In those places, you get either the Axe of Whiterun or the Axe of Eastmarch.
If I remember correctly, the blade weapons are randomly generated so have the potential to be axes, but these two are specifically named to be and are axes.
What else is in common with Whiterun and Eastmarch?
Their Jarls (Balgruuf and Ulfric) are the only two people in Skyrim who actively partake in and have knowledge of the tradition of the sending of axes.
When you become a Thane of these two holds, you are not just becoming a Thane, you are becoming a trusted ally of the Jarl, somebody who they can rely upon. Even more so with Ulfric, because you can only become a Thane of Eastmarch with Ulfric as Jarl if you are Stormcloak aligned.
Speaking of being Stormcloak aligned, how about a diversion back to the Civil War, specifically when the battle for Whiterun has reached its penultimate stages, Balgruuf has been defeated and has surrendered control of Whiterun. After an argument with Vignar (and I'll get into him later because he makes my blood boil), Balgruuf turns to you and says a line which absolutely breaks my heart - "And you. A Stormcloak? I'd thought better of you." 😭
Balgruuf thought you his ally, he had given you his axe, and you have just gone and stabbed him in the back (figuratively, and quite possibly literally depending on character build). As I said, it breaks my heart when he says that line.
Basically, what I am getting at, is that the depth of such a simple tradition in Skyrim is immense and I wish that there were more things like it (beyond the duel to the death for the throne thing, looking at you Ulfric) or saw it used more in the game. And that Balgruuf and Ulfric are by far the best Jarls in terms of character development and just how much their homeland and traditions mean to them. And I wish that there was a way to keep Balgruuf as Jarl even if you are Stormcloak aligned because fuck Vignar, and you know what? Fuck Maven Black-Briar too, she sucks. Laila is pretty incompetent as Jarl but at least she isn't Maven and that's a rant for another time. But not having Maven as Jarl is main reason I join the Stormcloaks more often than not. Balgruuf is usually the main reason that I join the Imperials on playthroughs.
Now... Vignar Gray-Mane. When you make him Jarl of Whiterun and he names you Thane, he gives you the Blade of Whiterun, not the Axe of Whiterun (yeah, I know I said that I think the blade weapons can be randomly generated as axes, and no doubt it was given to stop you from having multiple axes of Whiterun, but I just don't like Vignar soooo....). That's mean. Especially after we protected the city and helped him become Jarl too. There's another layer of insult there if you've rescued Thorald, his nephew, from the Thalmor. At least Brunwulf Free-Winter gives you the Axe of Eastmarch when he is Jarl if you defeat Ulfric for the Imperials and complete that shitshow of a quest 'Blood on the Ice'. Brunwulf is a bro, not Vignar. Hmph.
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gayelderstourney · 1 year ago
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OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 1
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Propaganda:
Jean Valjean/Javert:
One of the OG enemies to lovers. In the novel and musical, Valjean and Javert have complex, intertwined, and mirrored narratives which make them a fascinating ship to analyze. Also, there is a lot of hot fanfiction about them.
javert chases valjean around for at least 20 years because he broke parole and that's a big plot point. (jvj went to jail for bread theft if it matters.) considering how long that is and how much javert feels the need to do said chasing around that's kinda gay. also at one point javert is employed by valjean (except he doesn't know it's him and knows him as m. madeleine) and then asks madeleine to fire him. because he thought he was valjean and wanted to send him to jail even though he IS valjean. but some other guy got framed instead so it checks out and then WAY later on the barricades javert gets captured by a bunch of college students and valjean sets him free. this causes javert to have an existential crisis because 'OH NO HE'S A CRIMINAL BUT HE'S NICE TO ME' and then he kills himself. (also they have a very awkward carriage ride together. along with the unconscious body of valjean's future son-in-law. after valjean was in the parisian sewers and therefore covered in sewer water.)
what if i was an escaped convict and also the extremely benevolent mayor of a small jet producing town who broke into people's houses to give them money. and you were a furry cop trying to arrest me anyway. and then i save you from execution in the June rebellion and you realise that the police are not a symbol of justice but authority and being a criminal in the eyes of the law is completely separate from being a bad person. and this fucked you up so bad you killed yourself.
fuck those twinks in les mis these are the real finest gay love story victor hugo ever invented. javert literally followed valjean across france for decades because of his psychosexual obsession with recapturing him. valjean had the chance to kill him and spared his life, thus jump-starting javert's entire emotional arc. they're deranged and obsessive and they should kiss on the mouth
javert threw himself off a bridge bcs he was so mad the guy he was obsessively chasing was actually a good person depsite being a criminal theres gay ass old man yuri here
When you build your entire life around the existence of a man you despise is that still gay or do we need to invent something that transcends homosexuality. Asking for a friend.
fellas is it gay to spend your entire life chasing another man to arrest him even though all he did was steal a loaf of bread
Ravenpaw/Barley:
kitties who were outcast from previous groups they were a part of and find and live with each other. they are canonical mates even though theyre both dudes. they grow old together, but ravenpaw gets cancer and dies before barley (he lives to be considered old in warrior cats years). however ravenpaw wanted to be in the same kitty afterlife that barley will go to, so they can be together in kitty afterlife. barley is still alive though as far as we know and might be the oldest living cat in the series now. also i just think its funny to call little kitty cats "old man yaoi"
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eccentricallygothic · 8 months ago
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for a fic idea: chris evans x reader going on a date to a carnival and then having a picnic
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Thank you so much for the ask/request! This is literally the first Chris as Chris piece I've ever written omg! I prefer to write requests in hc form so I hope you don't mind…? Hope you enjoy <3 
Disclaimer: For whatever it's worth, this is a fictional version of Chris hence fanFICTION because I don't know him in real life and I don't want to either so no silly talk from anyone, please <3
Warning(s): Fluff, kissing, rides, minor consensual groping, tickling, picnic.
Note: Reader is definitely gender-neutral. Requests are open. 
Chris definitely spoils. 
He's one of those boyfriends who tower over pretty much everyone else in the crowd and have to constantly move his broad shoulders around to avoid touching anyone else.
Holds your hand very tight in his bigger one.
Because he knows how upset you get if someone pushes you both apart as it has happened in the past, resulting in you almost getting lost and crying. 
Has to wear a cap to avoid being recognized so you prefer to hang near the areas where there's masquerades and the like so you can enjoy some privacy as well as freedom. 
Buys you basically everything you look at. 
He's definitely the kind of person who is always so excited about the rides that he drags his partner with him while promising them that he will be there with them and they can hold his hand. 
Isn't a lie, man protects you like it's his job. 
But has more embarrassing photos of you on said rides than you'd like to admit. 
So much carnival food and mini games. 
Coming back home from such places with a huge stuffie is mandatory. 
"Chris!" You squeal as you struggle to jog beside him, your breath hot in your masquerade mask and a hand on your bulging tummy. All you had said was that the caramel popcorn smelt nice. And then you had had to deal with a whole tub of it after he had already bought you so many things to eat before. "Hang on, oh my God!" 
It is cute how his 'mature' age has not harmed his vivacity because it makes him so fun to be around. He is very easy going and just plain comfortable. You don't have to worry about pretending in front of him and he doesn't do it either. 
His good nature and open display of his affection for you is always heartwarming and honestly… downright attractive. 
A confident man who plays no games with nothing but love and adoration to offer.  
"Come on, baby! The photo booth is finally empty!" Chris is excited like a child as he basically shoves the coins in the slot. He has had an eye on the previously packed booth for a while now. 
It was little things like this that mattered to him a lot. 
From your favorites to little souvenirs, cute clips and pictures of you to how you liked your drinks, all your little rituals and what each of your facial expressions meant to everything else, he had them all memorized through quiet observation. 
Being the extrovert that he is, your boyfriend is otherwise very vocal about his affection for you but that does not mean that he makes a show of these things. 
They're just little things that he likes to do for you; his precious baby.
You yelp and then giggle when he plops his butt down on the seat inside the booth with a loud smack before pulling you in with him– more like, on him. 
"Chris!" The squeal has no effect on him and he goes on his goofy ways as you both pose with your masks on for some pictures. 
Then something suddenly shifts in your boyfriend, as it often does when you're in his general vicinity, and he pushes his mask up before doing the same to yours after turning your face towards his. 
His lips are on yours before you know it and his hands bolt from your waist and knee right to your ass, the tight squeeze making you draw in a sharp breath against his mouth. 
The clicks of the camera keep on going as you circle his neck with your arms, pulling him closer and letting his tongue dominate your mouth as you whimper from his natural dominance that comes out in moments like these. 
He doesn't have hardcore tastes for intimate activities but he is always willing to try for you. 
"Taste so good as always, baby" Chris is breathless when he finally pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, the reel reaching its limit at the same time; almost as if it's aware of how private the moment is. 
It's the little quirks. How he wraps his arm around your waist when you become too self aware in public sometimes, or how he tightens his hold on your hand when there's a crowd, the way he's always looking over you and covering the edges and corners of the furniture around you with his hand to make sure it doesn't nick you and how he goes the extra mile to make sure you're reassured and comfortable.
You love this man with your whole heart.
"Or maybe it's all that caramel popcorn" you tease and he widens his bright blue eyes, thick lashes decorating the area below his eyebrows in the prettiest way. 
"Caramel popcorn?!" You start giggling at the comical way he says it. "Did someone say caramel popcorn?!" You know what's coming and so your Snickers increase in volume and you protestingly bounce on his lap, vehemently shaking your head and trying to get away but Chris is a strong man. "THE TICKLE MONSTER ALSO WANTS SOME CARAMEL POPCORN!" You throw your head back and your body twists when his fingers dig into your sides, the blush that his kisses had caused on your face now darkening due to how you were screeching against him, your tummy in pain from all the laughing. 
It's only when there's tears in your eyes and the annoyed people waiting outside call out for you two that you sheepishly step out with your masks down.
This particular carnival has cute little tent-like pavilions facing a huge screen in one of the prettiest gardens that you have ever seen. You don't have to do more than tug at Chris' sleeve and he follows your gaze before buying you two a spot. 
He insists that you don't pay for anything and to let him spoil you because all he wants is the unconditional love and genuine companionship that you provide him.
And honestly, who are you to reject all that Marvel money?
Just kids and jokes, of course. You try to chip in when you can but damn, it's hard to do that when your boyfriend is literally Chris Evans. 
The rest of the evening goes by with the both of you sipping some soda and feeding each other light snacks as some romcom plays on the screen, your form perched between his limbs with you back to his chest, Chris' chin propped on the top of your head and his thick arms cocooned around your body. 
.
Really hope you liked it <3 
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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 4 months ago
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I got to be so real I kind of have mixed feelings about this post, and I'm not as mad rereading it as I was the first time I read it.
On one hand, I kind of agree that doing fucked up things to a fictional character doesn't necessarily mean that you're bad.
If I write a story in which a child is put to death, I'm not suddenly in favor of children dying. The person who wrote "the lottery" isn't in favor of people being stoned to death just because they wrote about it. I write stories all the time where characters are subject to homophobia or racism or general bigotry and I'm obviously not in favor of those things. However, there's a reason some stories that deal with the same subject matter are better received than others. There's a reason that even though "Avatar: the last Airbender" was written by two white men it's not called racist like some other works by white creators that handle POC.
I feel like the idea that how you approach fiction and fictional characters says absolutely nothing about you is insane.
If you watch a piece of media and then you go to write fanfiction about the media and you give all the white characters a good, happy ending but give all of the black characters sad ones where they're beaten to death, I absolutely think that says something about you! If you read/watch media with a fictional child and immediately want to write a story in which that child is raped by one of their parents, I absolutely think that says something about you and your character! The characters might be fictional, but you are not. Your choices do not exist in a vacuum. Why do you want to produce and see media where people of color end up unhappy and/or dead? Why do you want to write a lot of non-con? why do you want to see two siblings fuck?
Even though you didn't do anything to anybody in real life, I have to side eye why you're obsessed with seeing and writing that type of content. If you're writing a rape scene just because you like it (you don't comment on it or anything. In fact, it hardly ever comes up again) then yea, I do think you're probably a bit fucked up.
A white woman who writes all of her black male characters as "big" and "manly" and "dangerous" and "dominant" is absolutely revealing something about herself through her fiction! Maybe the fake black guy isn't being objectified since he's not real, but you can't seriously tell me that the white woman who wrote him has not revealed anything about how she views black men lmao. You can't tell me you'd seriously believe her when she says she's not racist.
I mean this site in particular talks all the time about the way certain groups are portrayed by certain authors. This site will be the first to cancel authors who write marginalized people in an unsavory light. If you think the fiction you consume doesn't matter, then you can never say anything about representation mattering ever again. A black child who only ever sees white characters cannot be influenced by that because fiction doesn't matter, right? You can't cancel an author for being racist. So what if all of their characters of color are portrayed as violent and evil? If what you write doesn't say anything about you, then that author is not racist at all!
I mean, seriously. How many authors have been canceled because they wrote black characters in a way that left the viewers with a bad taste in their mouths? How you choose to treat fictional characters absolutely says something about you!
I understand that fiction is how a lot of people deal with stuff. If something bad happened to you when you were a kid, you might want to see your favorite character go through that and overcome it, but the thing is: I feel like there's a line. I feel like too many of you use past trauma to justify what has honestly just become a paraphilia. Some of you don't read media about SA because you were SA'd and are trying to deal with it; you read it because you have a 'kink' for it. Too many of you hide under "healing" when you genuinely just get off on seeing fucked up things happen to characters. It's no secret that people who have experienced trauma sometimes go on to become abusive and perverse themselves.
The things that you enjoy and dedicate time to absolutely say something about you! Whether you think it says something good or bad doesn't matter, but the idea that it just exists in a vacuum and says absolutely nothing about your character and who you are as a person is quite frankly insane!
Even if you're writing it because you're trying to deal with trauma that happened to you or you're trying to create a safe space for people who have been through fucked up stuff, that says something about your character and who you are as a person. The stories you dedicate your time to reading and writing absolutely reveal who you are. We talk endlessly about the misogyny of male writers in the past and present. If posts like the one linked were true, then it wouldn't matter if a man spent all day writing stories where every single female character of his is treated like shit and assaulted. Media would be entirely unable to be criticized because the fictional characters aren't real and thus how you treat them says nothing. If a man with three daughters wrote a story where a fictional father SA'd all three of his children, that wouldn't be cause for concern at all? It'd say absolutely nothing about him? You wouldn't side eye him? You wouldn't be concerned if a primary school teacher spent all day writing stories where children are molested? You would send your child to a school with a teacher like that and be completely and utterly okay because "the fiction you write and consume says nothing"?
Of course there is nuance, but I don't like the way this post seems to absolve anyone into fucked up fictional stuff of guilt. No, reading and writing fucked up stuff does not *automatically* make you bad, but if you're doing it uncritically and because you get off on it, I'm not gonna pretend that's irrelevant to who you are as a person.
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a-random-weeb · 11 months ago
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Can I request ADA Yandere Dazai with a ADA fem reader?
imagine Yandere!Dazai kidnaps fem!reader cause he had enough of stalking. Acting all friendly in the ADA with her, only for reader to act oblivious to his advanced to court her. Fem!reader waking up after being drug by the Dazai, laying on an unfamiliar bed, being chain. Dazai walks in explaining all his love for her. Suprise suprise, fem reader explain he doesn't have to kidnap her and she was willing on staying for Dazai and proving her love for him
you basically just wrote the whole thing for me LMAO
But heres your summery but ✨longer✨ (Just like my di-)
Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, Yandere themes, a littllllee NSFW mentions and I think that's it
Disclaimer: this is not romanticizing Yandere stuff, this is fanfiction and is never ok in real life
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It wasn't enough anymore. No, he needed more. Sure, he loved stalking you, watching you eat, sleep, game, whatever. He needed you to notice him, his affections, his love. Every day he watches you smiling and laughing with Kyouka, playing with Nanami, and having fun with people who aren't him. Every day he desperately tries to impress you, to make a move, but you always squirm around, looking away and leaving. He wish he knew why. He couldn't take it anymore, so he did what he had to do... He had to make sure he was the center of your attention.
Your eyes slowly flutter open, glancing around the monotonous room. Sun beams pour through the window, reflecting off the plain, white walls aswell as the hardwood floor. The flickering ceiling light and the soft, blue bed you lay on seem to be the only decor in the room. You try to sit up only to realize your wrists and ankles are restrained by chains. You try to stay silent as you attempt removing the chains from your limbs, hoping to not alert any unwanted attention to whoever brought you to this place. You find your efforts to be in vain, both removing the chains and being quiet, because you here footsteps approach the room.
"Hey Belladonna~" You watch as a hooded man enters the room. You can't hold your tears in as you violently thrust against the chains, attempting to break free.
"What the hell do you want?!" You scream, your eyebrows furrowing as big, salty tears stream down your face. The panic and fear overwhelm you as the anonymous man chuckles. He removes his black hoodie, revealing his true face.
"Dazai...?" Your eyes widden. Your emotions were all over the place now, anger, betrayal, confusion, anxiety, fear, panic... Too many emotions at once... He smirks at your squirming, "Why the long face dear?" You flinch as he approaches you, kissing your tears away, "I'm not gonna hurt you!"
"Get away from me-" he quickly covers your mouth with his palm.
"Shhhh, I'll explain everything." He smirks, but his face is tinted pink. "you see, I've liked you for quite some time. Everytime I went to flirt or make a move, you would avoid eye contact and leave. I've been stalking you, so I know you haven't noticed me... It's so cute when you touch yourself, or read smutty fanfiction at 3 AM, or laugh at a cat video. I can't get enough of you, so I had to take matters into my own hands... So I drugged you and kidnapped you, it was the only logical thing to do!" You think his actions were the opposite of logical.
"Dazai... do you know why I avoid eye contact and squirm?" He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. You sigh, "It's because I love you idiot!" Dazai's whole face turns red, "Y-you what?"
"I love you!" And like that, your both blushing messes. Dazai would've never suspected that the reason for your avoidance of him was because you liked him! He looks overjoyed as he pecks your lips.
"So if I untie you, you won't try to run?" You shake your head, "You didn't have to kidnap me or tie me up! All you had to do was confess!" Dazai eagerly unties you, pulling you to his chest.
"I love you..." he whispers.
"I love you too..." You smash your lips against his, excited to live your new life with him.
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