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pochipop · 1 year

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＃BLACK CLOVER !! ♡ — NOZEL ALPHABET HEADCANONS.

#. synopsis! — a nozel headcanon for every letter of the alphabet .

#. characters! — nozel .

#. warnings! — none .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

A: affection. | are they affectionate? how do they show affection?

Nozel can be surprisingly affectionate in spite of his cold exterior. When it comes to his lover, he tends to let his guard down after a while, and in doing so, he affords you the right to see the softer, sweeter sides of him when it’s just the two of you. Nozel tends to show his love physically, —he’s not great with words and fears he might say the wrong thing or come off the wrong way, so he settles for letting his hands roam the plane of your shoulders and letting his lips capture yours as your back is pressed against his bedroom wall. He might not say “I love you” as often as he should, but he hopes his actions are enough to get the point across.

B: bizarre. | something strange they do or a weird quirk they have with or without their partner?

Nozel eats everything with silverware, even when it would be worlds easier to do it with his hands. You tend to think it’s just a silly quirk he’s developed since childhood, growing up royal and all, but you still can’t help but smile when you see him do it. It’s genuinely really cute!

C: comfort. | are they good at comforting their partner? how do they do it?

Nozel isn’t great at offering comfort to people. He’s not even good at comforting himself. Even so, he tries his best when it comes to you, even if it’s not always very effective. It’s hard to stay miserable when he makes the effort, pushing himself out of his comfort zone to pat your back and tell you everything will be okay, even when the future seems uncertain or bleak. The fact that he tries means the world to you.

D: domestic. | how do they feel about settling down? do they cook/clean?

Nozel, coming from a royal bloodline, tends to value more traditional unions. Marriage is something he holds in high regard, and he’s of the belief that when you promise your love to someone forever, you should do your best to uphold that promise, day in and day out. As for cooking or cleaning, Nozel doesn’t tend to do either (and never really learned how.) His family was very well-off, so others cooked his meals and cleaned up his messes. Still, he wouldn’t mind learning the basics or helping you around the house, although his busy schedule as a Captain may well get in the way more often than not.

E: ending. | if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

Nozel would do it in person and would probably be a little cold in his delivery. When he’s faced with feelings he doensn’t want to delve into, he tends to stuff them down in hopes of numbing them out. All the sadness and guilt would likely manifest as indifference, but deep down, he’d mourn for months to come and have a very difficult time moving on.

F: future. | do they think about the future? how does it look?

Nozel is always thinking about the future, whether professionally or personally, and he really hopes you’ll be in it. He likes the idea of having someone to come home to, having someone to rely on, having someone to share his most intimate moments with. For all his independence, he enjoys thinking about sharing meals with you after long days and retreating to bed after harsh times, wrapping you up in his strong arms, holding you close. Moreover, he likes to think you’re hoping for the same, even if only every now and again.

G: gifts. | how often do they give their partner gifts? what kind of gifts are they?

Nozel is nothing short of wealthy, and what he has, his partner will have in turn. Gift giving is probably his main love language since it’s a bit hands off and he can put a lot of time and thought into it on his own time. Jewelry is a staple of his gifts, —shimmering crystals dangling from the lobes of your ears or hanging around your neck, shining stones on your fingers (that many people often mistake for engagement rings), and finely crafted beads hooked around your wrists that he agonized over choosing for you. He certainly isn’t above coming home with flowers, newly crafted weaponry or armour, and any other array of trinkets or indulgences for you and your hobbies.

H: honesty. | are they honest with their partner? do they keep secrets?

Nozel is both brutally honest and painfully secretive, which is a strange mixture, but one he learns to temper over time for your sake. It might take a while, but eventually, he finds a nice middleground where he can express things to you while also protecting your feelings, as well as be honest about things without causing you too much worry or concern. Just as well, he does eventually figure out how to let himself be vulnerable, and while he may still keep things to himself every now and again (if for nothing more than to save some face), he does his best to be as open as he can.

I: i love you. | how fast do they say the L word? who says it first?

Nozel probably won’t say it first, but he would definitely say it back, and probably with reckless abandon. As soon as you work up the courage to confess the true extent of your feelings for him, he’d be quick to return the favor, and the relief of you feeling the same would be palpable. It wouldn’t be quick or easy for either of you, honestly, but the time and effort would be well worth it.

J: jealousy. | do they get jealous? does it show?

Nozel can be a bit of a jealous person, —not because he doesn’t trust you, but just because he’s kind of insecure about relationships in general. This gets better over time, and he doesn’t tend to act on it, but it’s a familiar sting that he knows a little bit too well. He likes to think he hides it well, but you always notice, even if you don’t say anything about it. Instead, you just give him a little bit more affection to offer some reassurance, and that tends to work like a charm.

K: kisses. | what kind of kisses do they like to give/receive?

Nozel is a lips man through and through. If he’s kissing you, nine times out of ten, he’s pressing his lips to yours and is hoping you don’t mind the way he holds it for a while too long. He’s definitely not above giving some forehead kisses though. Strangely enough though, his favorite place to be kissed is his shoulder. It feels warm and intimate, and he really relishes in that.

L: likes and dislikes. | favorite and least favorite things about being in the relationship?

Nozel’s favorite thing about being in a relationship is having someone to confide in. Having gone so long keeping up a certain image and never letting the mask slip, it feels way too good to be able to be his true self behind closed doors with you and not worry that any shred of weakness might push you away. Still, Nozel is and always has been an introverted person, and he doesn’t like feeling guilty when he doesn’t share something with you immediately because he needs time to think it over. It’s not even that you make him feel that way, —it’s largely something he does to himself, and he wishes that weren’t the case.

M: mornings. | how do they spend mornings with their partner?

Nozel is pretty indifferent to mornings. Waking up kind of just is what it is within itself. Even so, he’s a tad more affectionate when the two of you are in bed together, and he much prefers to take “five more minutes” when he can, even if all that entails is faking sleep to count the beats of your heart.

N: nicknames. | what do they call their partner?

Nozel likes to call you “my angel” or “my love” more often than not, but he’s also impartial to “darling.”

O: out of character. | what is something people would be hard pressed to believe they do/enjoy in a relationship?

Nozel loves to be fawned over. It even takes you a while to figure that out, because he’s definitely not the type to just outright ask for attention, but there are definitely times where he wants nothing more than to have you all over him, being the clingiest person imaginable.

P: pda. | do they like public displays of affection? if so, what types?

Nozel’s not a fan of PDA. He’s not embarrassed to be in love, but he does have an image to keep up, and he prefers to be affectionate behind closed doors.

Q: quirk. | what is something they do that their partner finds cute or endearing?

Nozel’s very strict and serious persona that he always upholds in front of his squad has become something of a novelty to you after having gotten to know him so well. It’s a very different side of him to the fairly sweet, somewhat tempered man you share your most tempered moments with.

R: rough times. | arguments? how often and in what manner?

Nozel tends to get frustrated more than genuinely angry. He might raise his voice from time to time, but all his time as a leader has given him some pretty solid reasoning and problem-solving skills, all of which he utilizes in his personal affairs. As long as there’s no egging him on purposefully, he can usually see through the initial upset and deal with whatever has gone wrong after he takes a bit to think and work things over by himself.

S: sensitive. | what’s a sore spot for them that their partner should steer clear of?

Nozel doesn’t like to be pressed about his family dynamics. He’ll open up about them in time, but only when he’s ready, and he’d much rather do so when he truly feels comfortable.

T: thrill. | do they need surprises in a relationship, or do they prefer a routine?

Nozel prefers routine and stability. His schedule can often be overwhelming, and as a Captain for a Magic Knight Squad, he gets his fair share of thrill and surprise while on the job. Really, the last thing he wants is to come home and not know what to expect there. Within reason, he doens’t mind surprise dates or something of the like, but he would definitely rather be in the know and have a solid idea of what’s going on.

U: unacceptable. | what is something they cannot tolerate in a relationship? what is something they would never do?

Nozel couldn’t tolerate someone being overly critical of him in a relationship. He’s hard enough on himself in just about every aspect of his life, so to hear his insecurities constantly echoed back at him would be way too much to shoulder. Nozel would also never project that outwardly and is surprisingly careful not to be nitpicky of his lover. He knows what it’s like to feel like all eyes are always on you, waiting for you to make a mistake, and the last thing he’d want for someone he loves so intimately is to cause any low feelings about the place held in their relationship.

V: vanity. | how concerned are they about their looks? are they insecure about them?

Nozel can be a bit vain, but it might come as a surprise at first that most of his external arrogance is more of an act than anything else. He sees himself as very attractive, and he puts both time and effort into keeping his appearances up, —but in his personal life, he tends to be a lot more tame about stroking his own ego. He also isn’t one for insecurity as it pertains to his looks, but it never hurts to throw him some bones and tell him he looks handsome every now and again.

W: wild card. | random headcanon?

Nozel really likes to style his partner’s hair, especially in braids. He’d take all the necessary time to understand the needs and texture of your hair, and would work with that accordingly.

X: xoxo. | how often do they hug/kiss their significant other?

Nozel isn’t anywhere near as stingy with affection as most people would assume of him. At the very least, he’s kissing you good morning and goodnight, but he tends to throw in a lot of back hugs and he adores the way you slip into his arms when he gets back from a mission.

Y: yearning. | how do they feel when their partner is away?

Nozel prefers it when you’re next to him, but that’s not always viable. When the two of you are apart, he thinks of you often and likes to remind himself of the warmth of your skin against his and the sweetness of your lips on his mouth. He’s a little too sentimental about it for his own good from time to time, but hey, what’s a lovesick fool to do?

Z: zzz. | how do they sleep with their partner? how do they sleep alone?

Nozel has long been a restless sleeper, but that simmers down quite a lot after getting used to having you in his bed. When he’s alone, it tends to be shallower, but it’s nothing that would stop him from doing his job. He moves around more and tends to stir awake a few times throughout the night. With you, however, his rest is usually more fulfilling, and his favorite position is him resting on his back with your head on his chest.

#black clover #black clover x reader #black clover imagines #nozel #nozel silva #nozel silva x reader #nozel silva x you #black clover nozel #black clover nozel silva #silver eagles #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #nozel silva fluff #nozel silva x reader fluff #nozel silva x reader insert #nozel silva reader insert #black clover x reader insert

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megistusdiary · 2 years

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mm titfuck with scaramouche? <33 he’s had a rough day, you’re willing to help him out! ^^

— 💌

i might be the flattest person alive but i can appreciate a good titfuck 🙏

also i am so sorry for vanishing i have been so busy with school and home stuff, and i wanted to write over fall break, but i was with my bf basically every waking moment and had no time ;w;

anyways i just registered for spring semester and it is looking like an actual nightmare rn but i did it to myself to save gas money 👍

anyways... scaramouche is a harbinger in this fic and theres a shit ton of useless plot!

warnings: switch!scaramouche and switch!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

scara fucks your tits 🧚‍♀️, exhausted but bitchy scara, consent check, oil as lube, scara calls you 'good girl'

scaramouche sighed, throwing his bag to the floor and dumping his hat onto the table.

the noise startled you from your accidental evening nap, jolting upwards to see scaramouche turning on the lights in your home.

his hair was slightly ruffled from where his hat rested atop his head, eyes half-lidded as he walked towards you.

"oh...i didn't realize you were there." was all he said as you rubbed your eyes, moving to stand up.

"i guess i fell asleep on the couch after i got home." you shrugged, folding up the blankets around you. "how was work?"

scaramouche once again sighed, sinking into the couch cushions, leaning back to let his head hang off the edge. "shitty."

"i'm sorry to hear that." you frowned as he swung his head in your direction, sighing yet again. "is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"

he let out a grunt, folding his arms over his chest. "unless you can make the rest of my...coworkers," his fingers coming up to act as quotation marks when he spoke, "get off my back, then no, i don't think so."

"what about some tea? i picked up your favorite on my way home." you offered, lips quirking up when he finally perked up a little. "stay here, i'll go heat some water up."

as you moved to stand, he grabbed your wrist, tugging at your arm. "what-"

"wait." scaramouche grumbled to himself, digging in his pocket with his free hand before pulling a bracelet out, holding it in his palm.

"scaramouche-"

"ugh, don't even ask. it's for you, i would never wear something so ridiculous. as incessant as he is, pantalone has an eye for jewelry. he helped me pick it out."

"you didn't have to do that for me." your face felt warm as he gently turned your wrist to clasp the bracelet, letting you feel the cool metal against your skin.

his touch lingered for a moment, fingertips trailing across your palm before retreating. "can't you just thank me?" scaramouche asked, turning away to hide the slight blush covering his cheeks as you smiled.

you leaned down, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin. "thank you, it's very beautiful." you walked off towards the kitchen, feeling giddy as you pulled the kettle out to set it on the stove.

it was a gift from childe, another one of scaramouche's coworkers whom he detested for his overeager disposition.

you recounted him being a very sweet gentleman, presenting you with the kettle when you first visited snezhnaya. though, the kettle itself was from liyue, 'a gift from a friend to a friend,' as childe put it.

it was a beautiful gold shade with trees painted along the sides, and it shone in the light of the kitchen as it slowly started to boil.

you left the pot briefly to pick out a tea set to match the kettle, opting to choose scaramouche's favorite cups. he had said before he didn't care about such useless things, though you could see the little sparkle in his eyes whenever you brought out the hand-painted forest tea set.

once the water was ready, you took great care in steeping the tea leaves to the perfect color in scaramouche's cup. you added the perfect amount of sugar as well. despite his words of saying he preferred his tea bitter, you knew he really loved sweets secretly.

you carefully set everything on the tray, bringing it over to scaramouche who looked like he was deep in thought. "what are you thinking about?"

"hm? oh, work, it's nothing." he shrugged you off, moving to sit across from you at the table as you slid him his cup. "it smells good."

"i know, i checked every bag i could find. even though it's rare to come by here, i wanted to find the perfect one."

scaramouche hid his slight smile in his cup, shaking his head as he took small sips. "i'm surprised you even remembered i liked this specific brew. it's been a long time since we had tea in liyue."

"of course i remembered." you scoffed, looking over at him with a cheeky grin. "you bought the whole stock when you thought i wasn't looking."

scaramouche rolled his eyes, setting his cup down in favor of resting his chin on his hand. "maybe you're more perceptive than i thought."

"oh please, don't even. if you thought i was dumb, you wouldn't have spared me another glance." you stated, setting your own cup down as you clasped your hands in front of you. "maybe you're just surprised you're not as slick as you thought you were."

"you should watch your tongue." was all he said, narrowing his eyes.

"what are you gonna do? bite it off?"

"i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" scaramouche watched you finally turn away, relishing in the delight of flustering you.

"what happened to being all tired from work?" you asked him, watching as he drummed his fingers along the edge of the table rhythmically.

"i'm not tired, just pissed off."

"well, why don't you let me make you feel better." you slowly leaned towards him, cupping his face with one of your hands.

his hand came up instinctively to cradle yours, meeting your gaze with his own intrigued one. "what exactly did you have in mind? it better be good."

you bit back your laughter, standing up and moving behind his chair. you leaned down, letting your chest press against his back as your breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. "why don't you let me surprise you, hm?" you smirked softly as he shivered, turning his head to grip your chin firmly.

"well, don't keep me waiting then." he pulled his chair out, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom, forgetting the tea on the table as you pushed him to sit on the bed near the headboard.

you cafefully crawled into his lap, leaning up to kiss him before he stopped you with a single finger pressed to your lips. "what is it?" you asked, muffled by the digit.

"do you want to do this? if you're tired, it's fine. you don't have to, you know." that was his way of checking in on you, making sure you were okay.

"my surprise is all about you, don't worry." you smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his finger. "you can repay me some other time." you grinned up at him cheekily as he grunted, moving his hand to let you kiss him properly.

as you pressed your lips to his, your hands traveled down to his waistband, playing with the ties as he inhaled sharply through his nose.

you carefully pulled the fabric down, feeling his happy trail against your hand as his cock sprung free against his stomach. you smiled as you moved down his body, pressing a small kiss to his tip and watching his dick twitch.

you scooted off the bed to grab the bottle of oil from the nightstand, pouring some onto your hand and rubbing it between your fingers before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

"fuck-" he sighed, letting his head lean back against the headboard as you played with him. you moved your hand up and down, twisting gently and running your thumb over the slit.

his eyes opened, narrowing at you when you pulled away. before he could object you moved his hands to the hem of your shirt. "help me get this off." you asked, feeling him slowly peel your shirt off. "the bra too."

he flung your shirt off to the side, reaching behind you and fumbling for the clasp of your bra, pulling it off of you and allowing it to fall to the floor. when he reached for your pants, you shook your head, sliding back down.

"i told you, this is a surprise for you." you moved to press his dick against your chest, rubbing against his dick as he watched with wide eyes.

"come on, don't tease me." he warned you, sounding ever-so-slightly breathless. you obliged, pressing his dick between your breasts as he sighed, feeling the tightness pressing around him.

you pushed your hands on the sides of your chest, pushing your breasts together and moving your body up and down. "does that feel good?" you smiled up at him as his thighs tensed, hands gripping the bedsheets.

"more, faster-" he whined at you, losing his composure. your body pressed into him more, leaning your weight onto his legs.

his hips moved on their own, hands coming to grip your shoulders and head as he fucked your tits at his own pace, moving you at his leisure. he grunted quietly, explicatives spilling from his lips as your chest became covered in oil and slick from his dick, coating your skin.

"good girl, good girl..." he sighed, moving his hips faster, feeling you press your breasts against him tighter until he let out a gasp, arching his back and coming hard.

his release shot up against your chin and neck, coating you in white as he slowly leaned back against the bed, hair stuck to his skin with sweat.

you pulled yourself up, laying on the bed with him for a moment before he wrinkled his nose, pulling your hand. "the bracelet has cum on it."

"it's from your own dick, and-"

"this is gross. we're showering."

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #💌─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 ✧.*#✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 1 year

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Hi beautyyyy I’m back spamming your inbox bc I love your stuff and I thought it would be fun to request a “there’s only one bed” trope with either Carlos or Mick. I hope you’re having an amazing day!!!

We Can Share - Mick Schumacher

The strobe lights were blaring and the colours constantly attacking your eyes were giving you a slight headache. Well, it was probably that and the amounts of alcohol that you were consuming.

You and pretty much every driver on the grid were in the club, celebrating the summer break and getting ready to wind down for a while. Now, you, Mick, Esteban, Pierre and a few others were scattered around a table, idly sipping at drinks as the music drilled through your heads.

"Do you guys want to come back to mine for a bit? It might be quieter," Esteban yelled over the music, earning nods from all of you around. You said your goodbyes before dipping out of the club, the wind washing over your skin.

The coolness was welcomed after dancing between many sweating bodies, and it felt freshening. "Feel free to stay over tonight if you want," Esteban said, opening the door to his house and ushering everyone in.

After playing some card games and drinking some more, Pierre drunkenly suggested that Esteban whipped out his old Wii and you all did some Just Dance. Of course, there was no saying no to Just Dance, so you watched on as people made fools of themselves.

You had done Just Dance with this exact group of people before, so you all had favourites that you like to do as pairs. You and Esteban always had to do 'Get Lucky', since people cackled at his poor attempt at the footwork.

You weren't a Beyonce level dancer by any means, but you were better than Esteban. Especially drunk Esteban. The pair of you struck the ending pose, earning whoops and cheers from the people sat around on the couch.

"Are we ready for the big finale?" Pierre hollered, snatching the Wii remote off you and scrolling across the song board until he found what he was looking for. You glanced over to Mick, hands on hips as you caught your breath.

"Not tonight guys, I'm too tired," you shook your head, trying to sit back down. Esteban threw himself into the empty spot on the couch you were aiming for, smirking at you. "Do it. Do it," Esteban started chanting, nudging Mick and looking directly at you.

Finally, you gave in to their persistence and looked over at Mick's quickly reddening face. "Only if you do it," you said, holding your hand out to him.

"Fine," he smiled, unable to say no to you and to the tradition. After every night out when you all ended up at someone's house, you and Mick were always forced to dance the 'Timber' dance from Just Dance 2014.

You didn't need the dancers on screen, you just needed the music and you had learnt the moves already. You took your positions, Mick playing the Panda, and got on with the dancing. Eventually, you hopped on Mick's back and let your entire weight rest on him.

You rested your head on the back of his shoulder, trying to suppress a yawn as you fought the urge to fall asleep on his back. "I'm going to head to bed now, guys," you said, slowly sliding off Mick's back.

"Yeah, me too," Mick agreed. Everyone retreated to their rooms that they normally had at Esteban's, but you got to yours to find Yuki already passed out on the bed. He didn't tend to come to the after parties, so he didn't have an assigned room at Estie's.

Sighing in defeat, you turned back around and headed back for the couch. Once you had finally found a comfortable position, a scratchy blanket draped over you, you tried to fall asleep. Just as you were about to drift off, you heard some footsteps approaching.

You didn't want them to talk to you, so you rolled over and screwed your eyes shut. The cupboard opened and closed, and the tap turned on and off. The person started walking back to their room, and you felt their gaze on you as their footfalls fell still.

The glass was set down and the footsteps approached you. From behind the couch, the person gently tucked a lock of your loose hair behind your ear. When they pulled their hand away, you needed to know who it was.

You opened your eyes to see Mick stood over you, his blue eyes looking right back at you. "Sorry, did I wake you up?" he winced, pulling his hand away.

"No, I was awake," you nodded, pulling the blanket further up your shoulders.

"Why are you out here?" he asked, sitting next to you. You took the chance to have a good look at him, his blonde hair was ruffled and his cheeks were rosy out of tipsiness.

"Yuki is passed out in my room, so I am out here," you explained, groaning as the couch creaked under you as the hard springs contracted. "You can have mine if you want," he offered without hesitation.

"No, it's alright. I'm fine here," you reassured, just wanting to sleep. Inside, you were suppressing the urge to start giggling like a teenager at his offer.

"I'm not leaving you here," he said, standing and grabbing your arm. Mick tugged you up with him, and you didn't have the energy to resist. He dragged you all the way to his room, pushing you down onto the bed.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled, prepared to take your spot on the couch.

"Mick, come back. This is your bed," you spoke, slightly timid. "We can share if you want," you said, but you weren't sure he heard you. You didn't want him to go back to the uncomfortable couch. "You sure?"

"Yeah, of course," you nodded as he tentatively padded back over to you and led next to you. For a moment, he just sat there, gazing at you. You had been friends for a while, but you had never shared a bed.

"Are we making a pillow barrier or..." he trailed off, taking some of the pillows from behind his head and getting ready to put them in-between the two of you. He wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible during this situation.

"Mick, we're not twelve. We can sleep in the same bed without a pillow barrier," you softly giggled, watching as he blushed.

"I'll see you in the morning, Mick," you smiled, shimmying under the covers and finally getting comfortable. He just sat there a bit, before shuffling under the duvet with you.

After a few minutes, you heard Mick softly snoring next to you.

As you were about to finally fall asleep peacefully for the first time that night, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest. You didn't even think of wriggling away, it made you even comfier.

You relaxed into his embrace, letting your legs tangle with his. For a moment, you couldn't believe that he had done that, but he was asleep so he wasn't consciously doing it.

You felt his breath on the back of your neck as his fingers absentmindedly traced up and down your arm. "Good night, my love," you could have sworn you heard him mumble. He was very clearly asleep, so you just brushed it off as sleep talking.

Now, you were falling asleep in the comforting arms of one of your best friends. You let your mind wander and imagine that this was something that happened every night.

You let yourself imagine a time that this was a regular thing and savoured every minute of it. For the rest of the night, Mick held you close and neither of your stirred until the late morning.

If it was anyone else, you probably would have opted for the pillow barrier. But, because it was Mick, it made the whole situation a whole lot better. Maybe Yuki could come over to Esteban's more often.

A/N - Hope you enjoyed my love, I adore all of your requests! The Carlos version will be out soon, I'm currently writing it. If you want to make a request, you can either message me or send it through the submissions button on my page. Have a good day lovelies!

|masterlist|

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #fluff #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagines #ms47

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gabessquishytum · 10 months

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So we’ve seen a lot of Mafia AU stuff, but may I add my Mob Collections Department Hob to the mix?

Morpheus’ heart flutters a little in his chest when he opens the door one day to a stranger, a gentle professor-looking guy with a messenger bag slung across his chest. But then the man slips his hand into the bag and pulls out a crowbar. His deep chocolate eyes go hard as he steps over the threshold, and Morpheus instinctively retreats.

He knows exactly who this must be. This is the guy who breaks your fucking kneecaps or legs or fingers or whatever when you can’t pay back what you’ve borrowed.

Morpheus knew he shouldn’t’ve gone to a Mob loan shark to pay for Art School, but his family wouldn’t help him get a “useless” degree, wouldn’t cosign the loans, and he won’t be 24 till the end of this year, so he can’t even be considered independent! What the fuck else was he supposed to do?!

The stupid thing is, his heart is still fluttering.

Actually, it’s fluttering harder. There's a distinct possibility that Morpheus’ circulatory system is deeply confused and currently mistaking terror for arousal.

“I… I’m an artist,” Morpheus stammers. Maybe he can live without functional kneecaps, but if this guy smashes his fingers, he’ll be destroyed.

Hob nods, casually resting the crowbar against the back of his own neck as he looks around. He’s in no rush. His target is a skinny pale thing that Hob is pretty sure he could break across his knee if he had to. He hopes he doesn’t have to. Sometimes just walking in the front door is enough to get people scrambling for the cash they “forgot” to pay. Though… this poor guy might not be so lucky. The man Hob’s been sent after today — what was his fancy name? Morpheus? — lives in a nearly empty studio apartment, entirely furnished with vivid canvases and one fold-out mattress on the floor. Hob reaches back to lock the door while he takes in the expansive scenes of… some fantasy world? It’s like nothing he’s ever seen. A dreamy mix of magical creatures, starry galaxies, keen eyed ravens, and glittering abstractions.

Well, maybe if he’d gone into graphic design — made some boring logos or something — he’d’ve been able to pay his bills.

Morpheus is madly tallying his resources in his brain.

He’s got about 18$ coming in from Patreon. If he does a sale on prints, he might be able to move a few extra, but the profit would be less… He’s already skipped anything fresh at the grocery store this week, subsisting on spaghetti, diced tomatoes, and baked beans — the only things the calories-per-dollar calculation would allow.

No matter how he does the math, it comes up short.

When the man takes a silent step toward him, Morpheus panics. His mind goes utterly blank. His heart is still doing it’s fucking stupid thing.

He kisses the man.

Hob’s used to this. Plenty of people try to pay their debts with their carnal talents. He’s not usually interested. The problem is this: Morpheus is hot. The kiss is deep and warm and… feels oddly real? Like genuinely passionate? Morpheus’ long fingers send tantalizing chills through Hob’s skin. Now, the broke artist is sliding to his knees, and when he looks up, his pupils are so thick with arousal that his blue eyes are almost black.

Sigh.

Fine. He can suck Hob’s cock this one time, and Hob will take care of this payment out of his own pocket. He gets paid well and is good at his job — people like him, he's not your typical goon, he's pleasant until he needs to be otherwise, and gives them every chance to search the couch cushions, so to speak. So the cash isn’t much to him. But in this business, paying other people’s debts is a bad habit to get into. Anyone would go broke doing that.

But Morpheus’s lips feel so good, and Morpheus is, like, into it. Like laving Hob’s balls and working his fingers into his cleft and over his asshole. He opens his throat so Hob can really ram himself down there. And by the time Hob comes (gritting his teeth & trying/failing to tell himself it’s not that good), he actually feels kinda bad that he’s gotten such a good deal on a quality blow job.

Two weeks later, Hob is resolved to be the consummate professional — strictly cracking bones or collecting cash, whichever’s appropriate, but definitely not getting off on the clock.

But Morpheus opens the door without hesitation, and he’s wearing black joggers, slung low on his jutting hips, and… a lacy body suit that plunges almost to his naval, is so high cut it frames said hips, and is sheer enough in the right places that his pale rose nipples poke through deliciously.

SIGH.

Fucking fine.

Hob can bend Morpheus over the counter and fuck him hard this one time. But he makes sure to get in a few good hard spanks on that creamy ass. Hob’s not completely derelict in his duties, and this is an enforcement job.

(This is not even remotely the deterrent he hopes it is. For the next two weeks, every time Morpheus squirms as he sits on his bare hard floor as he paints, he will think of Hob’s sharp hands. Even when the pain fades, he will recall it acutely in his imagination as he strokes himself.)

And Hob pays Morpheus’s second installment.

It might surprise you to learn that the interest on a Mob loan shark’s loan is… not exactly competitive. By the third time Hob visits, the amount owed has barely gone down, thanks to sky-high rates that would put the payday lenders to shame. The third payment would be massive for anyone, but for a starving artist it’s catastrophic.

But Morpheus is creative and determined to give Hob the full value.

This time, Hob spends the entire night on Morpheus’s folding mattress on the floor discovering new ways to come undone in the artist’s clever hands and pulling Morpheus apart in turn. (Figuratively.) Morpheus begs to take his punishment from the sharp sting of Hob’s hands again, and Hob turns his backside beet red as every moan and cry from Morpheus’ lips goes right to his dick until he’s jerking himself off and coming on Morpheus’s back, marking him like he’s Hob’s own. Like neither of them belong to some cranky old Mob boss, but it’s just them, signing their names into each other’s skin.

By morning, they’re lying in each other’s arms and just talking.

Morpheus tells Hob about going to Art School even after his parents tried to force him into something useful. He confesses the difficulties of making a living as an artist and on the internet especially. It’s not as easy as people think. He would do something else, but the pictures in his head just need to come out. Exhausted and trembling, he speaks of the way they grow in his unconscious, expanding to take up everything else, bringing chaos and cracks in his foundations if he doesn’t give them form and allow them an orderly outlet on the canvas.

Hob holds Morpheus tight to his chest as if that could ease the pain there, and he opens up, too. Hob didn’t used to be this. He was a History professor! He has no right forcing other people to make money! But then his wife had gotten ill. And this doctor — an arrogant prick who’d never taken anyone’s concerns seriously, who had years of secret complaints against him but was too much of a “star” to get fired — botched the surgery. And Eleanor and their unborn babe had died on the table. Hob had gotten a — frankly insulting — settlement from the hospital. Then he’d hunted down the doctor (who’d had connections in some shadowy parts of town — he hadn’t become a star by being good at medicine), and taken his revenge. The underworld had taken notice.

And this paid a lot better than adjunct work.

Plus, unlike at the university, Hob’s skills are appreciated. Most humans of the twenty-first century are a lot easier to find and pick apart than the evidence on post-plague upheavals in labor relations in the fourteenth century, and Hob spent seven years doing that for his PhD. He’s persistent and meticulous. Not sloppy like some enforcers. Hob knows how to cause damage that hurts like hell but heals well. He’s done his research. (Something he’s finally getting paid for after over a decade in academia!)

Hob doesn’t even like debt collecting! It’s not his calling. When he’d been slogging through History essays, he’d fantasized about opening a pub. Sometimes he still does — his skills could come in useful breaking up bar fights, throwing out the jerks, keeping things peaceful.

As the sun comes up, he kisses Morpheus softly on his lips.

He pays the massive third installment.

On the fourth visit, Hob slips his hand into the messenger bag again and Morpheus’ heart thuds in something like fear. But instead of the crowbar, he pulls out a thick, wooden paddle. When his eyes rise to meet Morpheus’, there’s only a little of that old hardness left but mostly a question. Morpheus moans at the sight, the blood already shooting to his cock.

He really should borrow money from the Mob more often.

He lets Hob bend him over the counter and ply the paddle all over his ass till he’s crying and begging for release. And then Hob is fucking him and biting into the meat of his shoulder and stroking him hard and fast as he thrusts against Morpheus’ bruised ass. They wind up tangled in the sheets long past morning. (The fourth payment is even bigger than the third.)

At some point, as Morpheus is boiling spaghetti for two, Hob decides fuck this job.

Of course, it’s the Mob, so he can’t just put in his two week’s notice & shit on the boss’s desk like decent people do. So later, Hob — whose a genuinely nice guy when he isn’t cracking your skeleton & has built up his own little following within the business — pulls a Red Wedding and eliminates the entire current leadership. Fuck those guys. They were assholes anyway. People are happier now. (Anyone who wouldn’t be happy was invited to the wedding.)

Hob doesn’t actually want to take on the responsibility of a large crime syndicate, so he hands the reins over to a trusted buddy. Then he and Morpheus get the fuck outta there and start new lives in the big city where Morpheus can do real art shows and Hob can run his pub and feed Morpheus only the freshest food and lots of it, and every beating is strictly desired and thoroughly appreciated and never involves a crowbar.

BESTIE THIS IS SO GOOD!! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW GOOD THIS IS. This is the most amazing mini fic.

Ngl I wish Hob would come around here with his "crowbar"

Honestly I love this concept of Mob Hob so much. I feel like it works so well with his canon storyline. It's not hard to imagine him reluctantly (but very effectively) smashing in kneecaps. And yeah he feels bad about it, but hey. Hob has had his own struggles and he wants to keep a roof over his head.

But he's not immune to a pretty little Dream, huh? He's not a nice guy, he just wants to get his dick wet. He's not in love or anything. I mean, he's not gonna shake up his entire life and risk everything by going up against the gang he's supposed to be working for.

.......right? 👀❤

#cowardly--throwaway #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw violence #mob au

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savemesomenachos · 4 months

Text

A Change of Heart - Chapter 1

I’d recognise you in another life.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader, Christine Lenker (OC) x Reader

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter. Age gap between the reader and Joel but not significant (5-6 years ish). Reader is AFAB but uses they/them pronouns.

A/N: I’m sorry it took sooooo long but it’s finally here

Word count: 2.5k +

Well, this is fucking stupid. Turn around and walk away.

Turn around and walk away.

Turn around and-

“Where you goin’ kid?” Tommy’s voice rings out in a gruff Texan drawl that’s been growing on you. He crosses the street in three long strides and a very-happy-with-himself smile on his face and swings an arm around your shoulder which almost trips you. He’d been quite the character for as long as you can remember, and it’s been a while. The wife only exacerbated his constant smiling, and you were as happy as you could be for him, but you’d never tell him that.

“I was actually heading to yours, wanted to drop off the cookies I made for Maria”, you mumbled, shrugging his arm off and increasing your pace, wanting to avoid all conversation. Tommy had this…gift as he called it; He knew instantly when your mood was off or when you’re not telling the truth. This could turn out to be one of those moments unless you power-walked to his house and finished what you came for: cookies.

“Kid, you know I ain’t letting you off that easy right?” he says, turning a concerned eye towards you. Damn, it might be too late.

“Tommy, I have stuff to do, okay? Move,” you command and return his gaze with a stern one of your own. He stares at you a beat longer and shit shit, he kno-

“Okay, but you better come over for Christmas dinner this year. Maria’s always asking about you kid.” Phew.

“…Fine. For Maria,” you respond, struggling to contain my breath of relief at his ignorance of the volcano of feelings threatening to tear your chest wide open. Holiday season in the apocalypse was not fun for everyone but you didn’t have it in you to break Tommy’s or worse, Maria’s heart.

“Whatever you say kid, I’ll take those cookies of your hand, you can get back to your ‘stuff’,” he says, putting up his fingers in air-quotes. He reaches out to grab the box of cookies from your hands, but you pull it back, just out of reach.

“These better make it to Maria or I’ll hear about it.” Your attempts to make a threat prove futile as Tommy manages to manoeuvre the box out of your hands with his signature smirk plastered all over his face and his eyes shining with amusement. “Aye aye cap’n,” he signs off with a goofy laugh spilling from his lips and continuing in the direction of his home.

A smile threatens to take over you face as you watch his figure retreat in the distance. But then you remember, you have to go home…alone. The smile never comes, and your heartbeat stumbles at the thought of being alone. You would have thought you’d be used to it by now, what with the apocalypse and a dead family. You thought you were used to it until you met him. Images threaten to take over your mind and you shake your head as if to physically get rid of the feelings his thoughts always brought on. Unfortunately for you, there was no seeing him again. Ever probably.

Sometimes when you’re alone, you think back to the months you spent with him and wonder if he’s still alive. Maybe alone and still on the road like when you met him. Or maybe he’s settled down now. Found a home, a partner, a family. Or maybe he’s dead or worse, one of the clickers. You wonder if he still thinks about you. About those days you spent trekking through ruined cities and camping out in desolate buildings at night. Or about the times when he would insist on keeping watch because he was too tense to fall asleep. And the times you had forced him to get some sleep, so he didn’t burn himself out. And the times you held each other in embraces that encompassed your body and mind. Warm, soft and grounding. Embraces that tethered you to each other and made you feel alive and dizzy and safe. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Sure, Jackson is safe. You have a few friends scattered around the settlement that you couldn’t imagine life without anymore but there’s something about being wrapped up in the arms of someone you love and feeling safe. Your eyes start to burn with unshed tears, and you try to powerwalk your way the rest of the way home and before you know it, your house comes into view. You almost sob at the chance of being in bed and crying your heart about before a figure blocks your view and you walk straight into it.

“I know you love to see me but that kinda hurt,” a buttery voice came above you. Your gaze raises to look at the source of it and your breath gets caught in your throat. Brown locks frame her face and small wisps of hair get caught in her lashes which lift, giving you a view of those familiar hazel eyes. Your eyes trail down her plump cheeks and lips when you see them tilt upward in a smile.

“I bought you something,” her voice sounds again. You swallow hard in an effort to clear your mouth of its sudden dryness. When you try to speak, your voice comes out croakier than you had hoped.

“What is it,” you rasp and immediately cough to cover up your nervousness. She smiles even wider and shows you the item she had tucked behind her back the whole time. It’s…coffee.

“You…where did you find that?” you gasp, as she places the bag of coffee in your hands, and you inspect it for the liquid gold it’s going to be once you make it to your kitchen. Your eyes raise to meet hers again and you see a shimmer of something that you’re not ready to accept yet.

“Patrol,” she answers, looking right back into your eyes. “Found an abandoned house a few miles out, got rid of a few clickers and found this bad boy just sitting on a shelf,” she says as she shifts nervously on her feet while her fingers begin to wind and unwind, a tell-tale sign of her fidgeting.

“Christine…” you trail off, while staring at the bag of coffee in your hands. “I can’t accept this, it might be the last bag you find in a while,” your arms stretch out in front of you, offering the coffee back.

“It’s a gift,” she announces, while covering your hands with her soft ones. She’s holding your hands and it’s the softest thing you’ve felt in a while and you’re gonna think about this for-.

“Keep it,” she clasps your hands that hold the bag that you’ll probably go through in a week. She smiles widely and squeezes your shoulder in reassurance, but it only makes your heart lurch at her warm touch. She turns to walk away with a whispered ‘bye’ leaving you with, what can only be described as heart eyes. You stare at her back for a long while and secretly hope she looks back, but she never does. You exhale a long, tired sigh and stare at the coffee in your hands. Coffee. You couldn’t believe two things: a. coffee still managed to survive the outbreak and b. she just gave it to you. Like it was nothing. But it did mean something to you. How could she possibly- A gasp leaves your lips as realisation floods your consciousness.

“You know what I miss the most from before?” you slur drunkenly, while leaning heavily on your arm that was resting at the bar. Christine looks at you with unfocused eyes and red in her cheeks, probably as drunk as you are right now but neither of you seem to care. She takes a long sip from her whisky and tucks her palm underneath her chin, resting her elbow on the bar.

“Your house?” she mutters with an unsteady hand spilling whisky on your hand. She giggles when she realises what she’s done and starts to apologise but you can only muster a loud giggle in response before you make a very slow attempt to wipe your hands on your jeans. The room seemed to be spinning with how many drinks you’d just had but you couldn’t look away from her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, but you could still see the speck of green in her irises if you looked close enough. For a minute you forgot what you were talking about, too lost in looking for that hint of green before she laid a hand on your shoulder. “Well, what is it?” she questions.

“Coffee,” you sigh dreamily. “I had this whole routine, you know. It’s kinda stupid now that I think about it but every morning I’d wake up and I’d have the worst mood known to mankind.” She laughed but inched forward, curiously gazing at you, her hand back to being tucked under her chin like a little kid being told a wonderful story. “I’d go downstairs, fire up the espresso machine. God, that fucking espresso machine. It was the fucking best. I’d go brush my teeth while it was heating up, extract a double shot, steam some milk and make very poor attempts at latte art. Every morning. It wasn’t special but it was…” you trailed off as you felt tears pool in the corner of your eyes. “I get it, I had the same thing with cigarettes,” she says, taking a slow sip of her drink. “Couldn’t take a shit without it.” Your ears perked up and it took a second to realise what she was saying. Your eyes locked and you break out into a fit of laughter, keeling over each other and holding your stomach in pain.

“I can’t believe you just said that” you wheeze through laboured breaths, cheeks hurting from how hard you’d been laughing. “I can’t even imagine you smoking.”

“Yeah well. Guess I’m different now. But the point is that it’s not stupid. I know exactly what you mean. I think it’s okay to miss the little things. Important even. I don’t ever wanna forget what life was before this because it was a big part of me. Those little things made me, me.”

You snap out of your daydream when you hear kids screaming nearby, throwing snowballs at each other. You crack a smile while walking up the steps of your porch and swing the door open, your eyes still focused on the small bag of coffee in your hands. You almost walk into a kitchen counter because you can’t peel your eyes away. No one had been this nice to you in a really long time and while on the surface, it didn’t seem like a big deal, it was to you. It meant the world to you that someone remembered little things about you. It was hard to be kind in the world you were in, and it was nice to see that people still found ways to do that. Even if it was just dated coffee.

You rummage around in your cabinets before you find one of your most valuable things in the house: a cafetière. You smile triumphantly before filling up the kettle with water and being careful to pour just enough coffee grounds, not wanting to spill or waste any. You rest your elbow on the counter, watching the water bubble and thinking about Christine. You think you’ve become a bit obsessed lately but now that you think about it, you don’t know her that well either. Sure, you’d hung out a bunch of times but all of them were super casual and none of them involved any real get-to-know-each-other conversations. That’d be too much of a date like setting.

A loud knock on your door makes your ears perk at the sound and silently hope and wonder if its Christine. A smile makes its way onto your lips as you practically skip to the door. You pull it open but its only Tommy. Your smile fades slightly but he notices anyway and raises an eyebrow at your crossed arms and faint smile.

“Good to see you too darling,” his voice drifts into your open house. “And what the fuck smells so good?” he shoulders past you, leaving you briefly stunned in the doorway and beelines to the kitchen, with you hot on his tail. He raised the bag of coffee to his nose and takes a deep inhale, his eyes closed in concentration. “Wow, that’s some good shit, where in the hell did you find this?” The kettle clicks off and you yank the bag of coffee back, tying it off and putting it back on your shelf. “A friend. Found it on a patrol.” You can feel his smirk before you even see it but you busy your hands, by pouring hot water into the French press and swirling it around with a spoon.

Tommy’s voice rings out yet again with a hint of knowing in his voice, “This friend…wouldn’t happen to be Christine, would it?” Your hand stills for a second before continuing to swirl and incorporate the coffee better, before you put the top on and turn your body to face him. “And so, what if it is?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thought you’d want to tell her how big of a crush you have,” his smirk widens impossibly while he turns around to rummages in the cabinets. “I don’t have a fucking crush Tommy, we’re just good friends.”

“Oh yes, absolutely” he snickers and delicately pours coffee into your favourite mug. “I just think, given that it’s the end of the world, maybe you should consider putting yourself out there kid. It wouldn’t hurt to try at least.”

You felt a twinge in your chest at his words. You knew what he was saying was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not again. How could you explain to him that you did try, and it did hurt. A lot. And sometimes you still think about him, it keeps you awake at night. How could you tell him that you found love in the most unexpected of places at the most unexpected of times, but it wasn’t yours to have in the first place. Tommy was wrong to think that the end of the world is a great place to find love. He did but most don’t.

“Hey,” his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay kid?” His concerning gaze almost makes you cave and tell him. “You seemed a bit off earlier too. What’s goin’ on?” He hands you the cup of coffee and guides you to your couch. He sits you down with a comforting hand on your shoulder and sits next to you, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

“Nothing Tommy. I’m okay.” Lie. “You know how I get around these holidays. I just…miss my family.” Somewhat true.

“Of course, yeah. I miss my brother too,” he whispers, his eyes downturned and his fingers lacing and unlacing, a sign of his nervousness. “I’m sure he’s okay Tommy. Hell, maybe he’s out looking for you,” he cracks a smile and tuns his eyes on you again. “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” he mumbles.

You frown and take another sip, contemplating the complicated relationship between the brothers. From what you’ve heard, Tommy split up from the brother a few years after the outbreak when he joined the Fireflies. They kept in touch for a while until Tommy met Maria. Since then, Tommy hasn’t radio’d his brother.

“Maybe you should radio him. He’s probably worried sick and what if he-” “He’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t risk everyone here just so we can talk, can I?” he turns his pleading gaze to you and for a second, you think he might cry.

“Tommy I-”

“I’m gon’ go ahead and help Maria with dinner. You still coming yeah?”

You sigh and realise that this is not something Tommy wanted to discuss at all. You smile lightly and nod once, placing your hand in a comforting grip on his shoulder. He stands up and rubs his palms on his jeans before he walks towards the door. He glances back at you and smiles before making you promise once more that you’d show up to dinner. “I said I’d be there Tommy,” you sigh with exasperation and follow him to the door where you playfully push him out and let out a grunt because of his refusal to move from the doorway.

“Think about what I said kid. Christine could be good for you,” he ruffles your hair slightly with an annoying laugh and you bat his hand away with a scowl that quickly turns to fondness when he turns back to walk away.

If only he knew.

★★★★★

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#series #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fluff #smut #slow burn #angst #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #tlou #hbo the last of us #fanfic #back to writing

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rockyroadsmith · 2 months

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Could you do a retelling of Rapunzel with Hare as Rapunzel, Tiger of the wind as Flynn Rider, Lilim as Mother Gothel, Mocchi as Pascal, Suezo as Maximus, Genki as the royal guard captain etc?

I've only seen this movie once, so I apologize in advance! XD

Once upon a time, a drop of sunlight fell to Earth and somehow blossomed into a Natsumi Berry bush that was all magical and stuff. Lilim, who's an old bag, finds the Natsumi Berries and when she uses them, she suddenly becomes young and sexy again. Just look at those tits! Like anyone who found something so awesome, Lilim uses it to live for hundreds of years and decides not to share it with anyone else, because she's a selfish hoe.

Many years later, King Golem and Queen Holly are expecting a child, but Holly becomes deathly ill. Golem sends out his army to find the magical Natsumi Berries from legend and since Lilim sucks ass at hiding something so important to her even though she's used them for hundreds of years, Golem succeeds in finding the Natsumi Berries. Holly is given the magical berries and survives her illness, which leads her to giving birth to her newborn son, Hare, who is born with ridiculously golden colored hair from the Natsumi Berries. In celebration, the happy parents release a lantern into the sky, and they all live in peace... until Lilim breaks into the castle to get some of that damn hair. When she cuts a lock of Hare's hair, it turns to a normal brown color and loses its magical properties, so the Pixie hybrid does what any sane person would do; steal the baby, of course! With their child stolen, Golem and Holly mourn and every year on Hare's birthday, they release lanterns into the sky in hopes maybe he'll see them and come home someday, without caring about the amount of trash and potential fires they're creating by just releasing so many lanterns out into the world.

Eighteen years later, Lilim has been raising Hare as her own child and has Hare be her personal spa treatment by keeping her from aging. She keeps Hare from leaving the tower by telling him that if he goes out into the world, he'll be violated by fetish fanart and furries, so he's nervous to leave. His only friend is Mocchi, a dopey monster who doesn't add anything to the plot and is just used for movie merchandise marketing, so Hare gets bored. Hare's hair is now super long and durable, so he's able to use it for a bunch of things, and he spends his time painting NSFW artwork around his room. Oh, and he painted a picture of himself with lanterns in the sky, but that's not as interesting as all the hentai. Hare wants to go see the lantern display for his birthday, but Lilim tells him to suck a dick and that the world it too dangerous for him, so Hare feels defeated.

Elsewhere, Tiger of the Wind steals the crown of the lost prince from the castle with his two partners, Daton and Datonare, but they're spotted by the royal guards, and they begin to chase them down. In a savage display of ruthlessness, Tiger betrays the other two thieves to escape the guards, and he continues to retreat with the crown. Genki, the captain of the royal guards, just likes having a sword to swing around and is pretty much useless. His trusty companion, an eyeball monster named Suezo, is determined to kick Tiger's ass and proceeds to hunt the wolf monster down until the duo end up in a scuffle, resulting in them dropping the crown and for the duo to fall off a cliff like an old Loony Toons cartoon.

After grabbing the crown, Tiger takes off to get away from Suezo and ends up hiding in a cave before he stumbles upon an old tower. The wolf monster decides to hide in the tower and as soon as he scales the whole freaking thing, he's immediately smashed in the head with a frying pan, which knocks him out. Hare, who's never seen anyone besides Lilim and Mocchi, is very curious about the newcomer and even though he fears it might be one of the people Lilim warned him about, he decides to stuff him into his closet. He then finds the stolen crown and hides it before Lilim can see it. Hare decides he'll show Tiger to Lilim to prove he can handle himself, but Lilim tells him off before he can, and this pisses Hare off. Hare deviously lies about wanting new paints for his latest erotic painting and to get him off her back, Lilim agrees to make the three-day trip to get them.

When Tiger wakes up, he's bound by Hare's massive hair rope and after learning Tiger isn't there to steal his hair, the rabbit monster decides to make a deal. If Tiger brings him to see the lanterns and then brings him back to the tower before Lilim finds out, he'll give the wolf monster the stolen crown. Tiger agrees, and immediately regrets it the moment they leave the tower and Hare begins to happily run around like an idiot. He then feels guilty for betraying Lilim, but Tiger encourages Hare and then decides to take him to lunch.

Down the road, Lilim runs into Suezo, who immediately tries to grab her ass so she bunts him into the nearest tree, before she runs back to the tower to check on Hare to make sure no royal guards found him. Sure enough, the tower is empty, and Lilim loses her shit at finding the crown and a wanted poster of Tiger. Assuming Tiger kidnapped Hare, the Pixie hybrid grabs her favorite kitchen knife and sets off to make sure Tiger can never procreate.

Tiger takes Hare to a crappy diner full of Baddies who want to turn Tiger in for the reward money, but Hare's happy go lucky demeaner and exclamation about following his dream makes everyone in the dumpy restaurant become hopeful. Lilim sees this through the diner window like a creeper, and she's angry Hare doesn't want to return to the tower. The royal guards show up, but the Baddies help Hare and Tiger escape through a secret tunnel, which Suezo follows after them soon after. At the end of the tunnel, the duo fends off the guards waiting for them, and Tiger is surprised Hare can use his long hair as a weapon, and he's quickly saved from Suezo killing him by Hare lassoing the eyeball monster. Suezo flails around like a dumbass and causes the dam to break, so a rush of water overtakes the group. The water rises and it seems all hope is lost, but this is a Disney movie so it can't end like this. Hare suddenly remembers his hair can glow, because somehow he forgot such an important detail about himself, and they use his hair to light the way out of the cave.

Once they escape, both Hare and Tiger share their backstories with one another, and once Tiger goes to get firewood, Lilim appears. Hare admits that he wants to stay with Tiger because just listen to that voice, goddamn. Lilim is upset and gives Hare the crown to test if Tiger would stay for Hare or if he's really just a greedy dirtbag, but when given the chance to give the crown to him, Hare gets too nervous.

In the morning, Suezo shows up to kick Tiger's ass, but Hare convinces him to let Tiger get him to the lanterns, so they agree to a truce. At the castle, Hare has the time of his life at the celebration and even Tiger and Suezo enjoy themselves. Mocchi just sits on Hare's back like a drooling vegetable. When night falls, Tiger takes Hare out on a boat to get the best view of the lanterns, and suddenly everyone in the city releases lanterns into the sky. Hare and Tiger both release one of their own, too, before Hare gives Tiger the crown. The wolf monster is hoping to release something besides a lantern tonight, hint hint, and says he doesn't care about the crown anymore.

Near the shore, Tiger spots Daton and Datonare, and he decides to investigate without telling Hare what was going on. Tiger freely gives them the crown and apologizes about betraying them earlier, but the two other Tigers know about Hare's magic hair and want him instead. They set it up so it looks like Tiger has run off with the crown, abandoning Hare, and before Daton and Datonare can catch Hare, Lilim knocks them both out and looks like the hero. Hare is devastated at what he thinks is Tiger's betrayal and goes back to the tower with Lilim. Meanwhile, a bound Tiger with the crown near him, floats in a boat to the castle where he's promptly arrested and sentenced to death.

At the tower, Hare listens to My Chemical Romance while wallowing in self pity, until he pieces together that behind all the tits and dicks, all the smut he painted formed a silhouette of the royal crest. Suddenly, fuzzy pieces of memories enter his mind, those of his parents who somehow gave birth to a rabbit, and he realizes he's the missing prince. Hare angrily confronts Lilim about this and, in standard villain fashion, she refuses to let Hare leave the tower. Oh, and she breaks an expensive mirror.

In the city, Tiger is in a prison cell awaiting to be hanged and just as he's pulled away to meet his end, the Baddies from the diner show up and release him just in time. Huzzah! Tiger is catapulted over the stone wall and lands painfully on Suezo's back, and the eyeball monster is pretty sure he just got about six herniated disks from that maneuver. Even though Tiger is much faster than Suezo, the wolf monster digs his claws into the back of Suezo's head and gives him a quick kick to his side, forcing the eyeball monster to slowly hop down the road while mumbling swears under his breath the whole time.

When the duo gets to the tower, Tiger leaps off Suezo, leaving the eyeball monster to flop dizzily onto the ground, and he calls out to Hare to let down his hair. When Hare's hair is thrown down to him, Tiger uses it to climb up the tower, but it's a trap! Hare is bound and Lilim stabs Tiger in his side with her trusty knife, leaving the wolf monster to call her a crazy old fossil, which makes the Pixie hybrid sulk. Hare tells Lilim that if she allows him to heal Tiger, that he promises to go freely with her without a fight. Lilim agrees and unties Hare, allowing the rabbit monster to run to the wounded monster's side. Before Hare can heal Tiger, the wolf monster slashes at Hare's hair and cuts it completely off, leaving just a brown puff on the top of his head. He then turns to Lilim and grins smugly while shouting "gotcha, bitch!".

Lilim becomes frantic as her only means of staying young is taken from her, and she pulls up her hood over her head so no one will see her wrinkled ass face. After not doing anything this entire time, Mocchi suddenly turns into a savage and uses Hare's cut hair to trip Lilim out of the window and even though she has wings, she plummets out the window and turns to dust. Mocchi then goes back to being a derpy mouth breather.

Hare tries to heal Tiger, but it fails since his hair was cut. He's completely devastated, even more so as Tiger shows an uncharacteristically sappy side of himself, and he's crushed as Tiger dies. Luckily he doesn't have time to turn into a Lost Disc and when Hare's tears fall onto Tiger's face, they're able to heal him since the magic is still inside him. Once Tiger is revived, Hare flings himself at the wolf monster, but he immediately covers Tiger’s eyes as he realizes he can see all of his dirty paintings in his room.

At the castle, King Golem and Queen Holly are alerted that the lost prince has been found and as soon as they see Hare, Golem brings Holly and Hare into a rib crushingly tight hug. At seeing Tiger standing awkwardly in the back, Golem grabs him and brings him in for it, too, and Tiger can't help but wonder how the hell Golem and Holly even made Hare. He decides not to think too much about it. In the end, Hare is able to live out a happy life in the kingdom where he belongs with the family who had been searching for him for so many years. Tiger also asked Hare to marry him, which he happily accepted, and they finally got to live out some of Hare's erotic fantasies. The end!

Sorry this was so long! XP

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galwithalibrarycard · 11 months

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Hello, how r u? Soo, I just discovered love little losers (I was a huge fan on nmtd, but didn't know about lolilo). And I love your blog, thanks for keeping the fandon alive. Argh so, Freddie, does she gets better? Cause she's a little bit annoying. Pedro and Balt, I'm jumping out of my sits for them, the backslash? Really. I'm so excited to see more beadick. Anyway, I just wanna vent, thanks for the blog

I’m good thanks, hope you are too. And thank you! I’m definitely not the only one still here keeping the fandom alive, there’s still a few of us out here, but I appreciate the love! 😁 it’s nice to know people are enjoying my posts still!

We’re actually having a small resurgence in the tags with new people watching both series, which is fun. Those people inspire me to keep posting too, it’s all full circle.

I am… not really sure how to prepare you for lolilo tbh. It’s a loose adaptation of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labors Lost, and it’s a lot heavier and angstier than NMTD for one thing, so be warned. Pedrazar is a very slow burn, be prepared for a journey! I liked Freddie right away bc I relate to her anxious energy, but you might take some time to warm up to her, that’s fair.

I recommend you head to @beatriceeagle and check out the series of Lolilo meta analysis posts she made with her sister a few years back. It’s a show that trades in subtext and has a lot of important stuff go down offscreen. Reading the metas really helps give a more thorough understanding and insight into the characters and why they behave the ways they do. It might help you understand where Freddie’s coming from, and the others too.

As far as Beadick, I’ll tell you they will break your heart, but it will be put back together again. If you need more of them, the missing offscreen moments and development of their relationship are kind of my specialty in terms of fanfiction. I wrote “the world is too quiet without you nearby”, a 16-chapter fanfic covering the time period between NMTD and Lolilo when Bea and Ben are in a long-distance relationship (plenty of fluff to pad the descent into angst). I also wrote “And We Are Finally Home”, a fic that covers the Beadick relationship arc from the lolilo episode “Confrontation” on through the end of the show- and I WILL be finishing and posting the epilogue to that fic as soon as I can, but you can read the chapters that are already up and still get a pretty complete story there. You don’t have to read them, but i wanted to share because I’m proud of them and I think they’re a good companion to the show if you like Team B! Mind the tags, but there shouldn’t be anything in the fics you can’t handle if you can handle the actual show.

The most important thing you might not get from the videos themselves: it’s canon from the creators that Benedick and Freddie and Balthazar are all dealing with anxiety disorders of some kind, though the creators didn’t actually intend to write that going in- it just happened that they agreed with the fandoms interpretation later on. So everything Ben does is colored by anxiety constantly telling him that he’s too much and that no one likes him and the only thing he’s good for is a laugh- and the (false) worry that Bea is getting sick of him and can’t wait to leave on her travels to get away from him. He’s trying to keep people from leaving him. Freddie is the way she is because she’s desperate for control in life, it’s the only way she feels calm. And Balthazar is petrified of confrontation and retreats into himself when he’s stressed. A lot of this is covered in much better depth in the metas I mentioned, but I wanted to let you know. Not as an excuse for any of their actions, but as an explanation that might make it a less frustrating watch.

I hope that answer wasn’t too overwhelming. I am just incapable of being normal about these webseries and especially about Benedick Hobbes (look, you don’t simply forget the character who got you through your own social anxiety diagnosis, and this is the obsessing-over-fictional-characters website. I talk about other things too, I promise! xD)

Anyway, thank *you* for allowing me to share some thoughts right back! I hope you enjoy Lolilo! 😊💖🦩

#asks tag #welcome and good luck to you Anon!#i also have a whole meta about Ben’s social anxiety it’s linked at the top of my blog

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firstkanaphans · 8 months

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hii! i'm a big fan of your fanfics, and as an aspiring writer myself, sometimes I feel sad 'cause I know and feel like I won't ever be as good as you are ☹️ I know I shouldn't compare myself, and I'm trying to get better at it, so I would genuinely like to ask, are there any tips you'd give to authors out there trying to improve? either their writing skills, plot ideas, planning and stuff. thank you, either way, love you! can't wait for your next work ❣️

So, the first thing I want to say is that I have been writing for a long time. I published my first fanfic when I was 12 years old and I’m 31 now, so I’ve been actively writing for the past 19 years (!!!) with almost no break. The way someone explained it to me once was to look at your years writing like levels in a video game. I’m currently at level 19. If you’ve been writing for ten years, you’re at level 10 and it’s certainly not fair to compare yourself to me because the only thing that’s truly going to make you a better writer is to write.

I’m assuming since you called yourself an “aspiring writer” that your eventual goal is publication, so I’ll gear my recommendations towards that. Fanfiction is a completely different animal, but a lot of these tips are applicable to both. The biggest difference is that there’s a lot more freedom in fanfiction. You can write what you want without worrying about three-act structures and you don’t have to invest any work in making people care about the characters because they already do. It is worth noting, however, that if you write, you’re already a writer.

First, I highly recommend that you read “Save the Cat” by Blake Snyder. It changed my life and I’m not even kidding. It’s an absolutely fantastic book on writing and although it’s geared towards screenwriting instead of novels, everything is still applicable. (There’s actually a newer version called Save the Cat Writes a Novel, but I’ve never actually read that one so I don’t know if it’s as good.) He goes over how to plot a story and also how to write likable characters, which is surprisingly one of the hardest parts of writing original fiction.

The second biggest tip I can give you is to let yourself write badly. Editing is easier than writing. The most important thing is to get words down on the page. You would not believe how bad my first drafts are—and that’s not just me being coy. Honestly, the next time I sit down to write a fanfic, I might save my first draft for anyone who’s interested to read because my first drafts are always bad. Like legitimately. There’s a lot of freedom in letting yourself fail and your writing will turn out better for it.

I would also recommend getting a professional critique if you are able to because you’re never truly going to know what it is you need to improve upon unless someone tells you. Signing up for a writing retreat is a great way to do this or you can look for online critiquing services. I’ve gotten several chapter critiques from Scribbler in the past and I found them very helpful.

But truly, the most important thing is to just have fun. I heard Lin-Manuel Miranda talking about writing Hamilton once and he said that what he constantly kept asking himself was, “If no one else ever sees this, will writing it still have been worth it?” And for him, it was. That’s the kind of energy I try to write with. I write what I want when I want and if I find myself struggling to write a scene because it’s boring, I do something to make it not boring instead. Change things up! Have fun! Because otherwise, what’s the point?

About six years ago, a friend of mine said virtually the same thing you did in this ask: “I’ll never be as good as you.” She had been writing for less than a year at the time. We lost touch when I left fandom to pursue original fiction, but when I came back last year, I looked her up again. She has a Tumblr ficlet pinned at the top of her page with 10K+ notes. I could never.

So don’t count yourself out yet. Just keep writing.

#asks #writing advice

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thisisadonaldduckblognow · 1 year

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yes a thousand percent absolutely lets go

(firstly i am sorry my post put anyone to a point of feeling the need to apologize for or feel bad for being Very Into Leo’s character. as someone who is flagrantly Very Into Raph’s character, i promise i wasn’t trying to throw a stone in this glass house. i’ve gotten burnt out on a lot of fanon leo stuff but part of why im so !!!! about it is bc i too love leo’s characterization and potential.. i swear

catch me catching my brain and tone malfunctions behind dennys later, sorry again gang)

BUT YE I’LL TALK ABOUT MOVIE RAPH STUFF TO MY BEST CAPACITY ALL DAY

overall i honestly... totally get raph being hard to get a handle on in this respect. like it’s pretty difficult to pick where to start and how to express it even just in an informal tumblr analysis post, i still haven’t managed to put together any kind of fic myself LMAO. bear with me i will do my best!

so firstly there’s just the veritable gauntlet of “stuff raph experienced/was dealing with in the span of the movie” to consider, i think.

- his fear and anxiety over his family’s safety, for which he always always feels personally responsible. when he called the retreat during that first fight with the krang, he was absolutely terrified-- and i can only imagine how much scarier it was after leo bailed on the escape pod. like, there’s no way raph was not hauling ass after leo the second he saw that happen.

= he takes a hit for leo, as in just barely stops it and loses a chunk of shell/plastron in the process. he sacrifices himself using his pod to get leo out of there safely (and there’s so much to be said about the fact that raph’s pod seems to be the only one that didn’t auto-activate. that only he and donnie seemed to know they even existed. there’s a whole talk they must have had right there, like raph would probably have had to ask specifically for this feature.)

- the krang try to intimidate answers out of him about the key, and when that doesn’t get them those answers, prime literally jams tentacles into his brain and roots around until he can find what they’re looking for. so that’s one bullet point on the list for outright mental violation. it looks/sounds very painful, not to mention terrifying.

^^ and honestly, this point of suffering in particular is one that i think would be hardest for raph to actually bring up/talk about with his family. because none of them were there. none of them KNOW. and how do you explain that to them? how do you try to make yourself break that out when they’re already worried about the other stuff that happened to you and to everyone else? when part of you is guilty about it despite yourself, because so much of your identity is tied into being a protector that you can’t help but feel like you should have been able to wall that info off somehow and keep your family safe?

- gets infected by the krang and put into the big gross pod to... incubate, i guess? there’s so much unanswered about the point between brain torture and getting found by his family tbh. was he conscious and aware of being left alone in there? was that why he was so out of it even before the mutation?

- and then of course there’s said painful, grotesque body horror forced krang mutation that he has to go through once he’s out of the pod! thanks i hated it! like it seriously looks so gross and painful.

- ah yes and the mind control... being used as a tool and a puppet and specifically set out to hurt or even kill the family he loves and wants to protect.

- the standard “we had our cool epic boss fight against the evil alien but he kicked our asses with one flick and then punched mikey and donnie all the way to staten island” physical roughage, too. leo portaled him after mikey and donnie so he could catch them. donnie took the brunt of the krang punch, and raph took the brunt of the hard landing (he is holding his side like he might have some rib issues, they all look rough af down there phew)

- leo’s sacrifice is leo’s sacrifice and definitely a leo development moment as an action itself, i’m never gonna say 'yep here’s how leo getting brutalized in prison dimension is all about raph’. i’m talking about the like, aftermath and pre-rescue emotional toll that that has etc etc etc. ftr.

point one there is obviously just the grief. like, raph is literally incapable of standing when it hits. he’s on all fours, he can’t open his eyes. i made a post comparing the caps of raph’s face getting stabbed and raph’s face when it was sinking in that leo was (apparently) Gone gone bc the expressions are nearly identical. like just. absolute agony.

- and on top of that, i sincerely think that leo’s “you’re one to talk, hero moves are totally your thing” apparent last words are gonna stick with raph for a very long time. even after they save leo. the look on his face after leo says that... man. i think there’s a very real moment of raph going what have i done, what did i teach him? about the entire situation.

the way this is already tl;dr oh well SO IG SOME OF MY GENERAL TAKEAWAYS AND THINGS I THINK ABOUT WHEN IT COMES TO POST-MOVIE RAPH:

first and foremost. rip raph sufferer of some of the most intense eldest child syndrome i’ve ever seen. he feels bad that he got used to get his family’s location. he feels bad that he got used to harm and nearly kill his family. he probably feels bad that leo feels bad that his shell is damaged, smh. it’s guilt all the way down. the kind where he knows logically his family does not want or need apologies, that getting controlled was literally not his fault, but he feels bad anyway.

and like i said i get how it’s hard to get a handle on him for stuff, because raph is also... not super good at the emotional vulnerability sharing? it’s so wild because he’s very openly emotional and easy to read! he’ll cry during a sad movie scene and yell at a frustrating video game no problem, he’s very straightforward! but when it comes to sincere vulnerability and actually seeking comfort/closure about it, he has a big struggle vibe. good luck to the entire family bc every single brother is gonna be in a “oh but everyone else already has so much to deal with i don’t wanna pile more on with my problems” zone, i think.

also just like. raph is a protector. that’s one of the core pillars of his sense of identity and worth. he takes care of his brothers. he keeps his family safe. and so so so much of what he went through or experienced in the movie went directly against that. raph, the big brother, the beating heart of the team, the one who takes hits, the overprotective mother hen, gets used to track down his family, and then gets used to hurt them. very nearly gets used to kill leo outright. isn’t there to take the hit for leo again at the end of the movie, is helpless as his little brother seemingly sacrifices his life to save them and the world. how does he come to terms with that? how does he feel like he still deserves the trust and faith that his family puts in him to keep being a rock? (they’re not scared of him, but he’s scared of him.)

and for real seriously how does he ever ever get around to dealing with that brain probe and the mutation specifically. his mind and his bodily autonomy got so deeply violated in the process of this movie. it’s scary! and painful! what kind of scenario would a writer even have to rig up to back him into enough of a corner to share those feelings with his family (who would absolutely want to comfort and support him)! it’s nightmarish stuff that’s gonna linger with him for the rest of his life.

and in fact on the mutuation/mind control. i think the fact that leo was able to get through to raph just with words, that that was how he managed to break through the control, maybe means that raph was aware of what he was being made to do all along and just. unable to pull enough strength together to stop it before that point. woof.

idk idk if any of this makes real sense or helps for getting a handle on raph’s character at all tbh, it’s just a lot of me nonsensically putting him in a jar with a leaf and a stick for scientific observation ig. if ppl wanna hit me w questions or discussions about my personal opinions on my favorite boi feel free tbh

maybe the real raph character analysis was the hug and nightmare-free nap he probably desperately needs all along....... ah its too late hes dissociating on the couch. relatable.

#rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rise raph #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt movie #we try to make sense at almost midnight

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summerwritesfics · 8 months

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🫧So Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want This Time

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang, Sektor/Kuai Liang, Original Male Character/Kuai Liang Fandom: Mortal Kombat Length: 6966 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Choking, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Gentle Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Controlling Behaviour, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, One Night Stands, No Aftercare, Aftercare, Self-Esteem Issues, Nicknames, Kissing, Bathing/Washing, Unhealthy Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Degradation, I know a lot of these contradict each other but they happen in different sections, All sex is consensual but definitely not healthy, None of the bad or unhealthy stuff happens with Hanzo/Kuai tho @hurtcomfort-bingo: Nickname(s)

Hurt And Comfort Bingo Masterlist

Notes: I wanted to write a fic sort of exploring Kuai’s growth in terms of relationships, and I actually felt the nickname prompt on this bingo card was an interesting way for me to do that. Basically this fic is from various points of Kuai’s life, framed around nicknames he’s received at some point. I really wanted to focus on the transition from unhealthy relationships to healthy ones, and how despite Kuai initially not coping in a healthy way, he eventually finds love and healing. So, head’s up, like it says in the tags, this fic does focus on some of the abuse Kuai’s suffered and it’s somewhat explicit in this one rather than implied or discussed as being in the past like it has in previous fics. I will say that the worst of it is relegated to the first part, so you might be able to skip ahead to the first line break and be fine, but be aware that it’s kind of a big part of the fic. Title is from “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths.

“You never learn, Snowstorm.”

Kuai Liang felt himself being thrown against the wall, pain blossomed in his side where hours earlier he’d been struck with a metal pipe. Seconds after he hit the wall, a hand wrapped around his neck and began to squeeze. He choked slightly, hands reaching up to claw at the hand while he stared Sektor straight in the eyes.

Kuai didn’t really remember when Sektor started calling him snowstorm, but now that he thought about it, the nickname really told how Sektor viewed Kuai. He was an oncoming storm, wild and out of control, completely unpredictable and impossible to tame. Unruly. Destructive. Uncooperative. Something that Sektor desperately wanted to get under his control.

“S-Sektor,” Kuai whispered, hoping that wouldn’t cause him to do anything rash. “Please.”

Sektor laughed bitterly, “oh now you want to grovel.” He lent in closer, face practically touching Kuai’s. “You were so mouthy and proud of yourself in front of my father.” Kuai just stilled under Sektor, not really wanting to provoke him further. “You realise that because I was assigned to dish out your punishment, every time you act out like a little bitch, it makes me look bad in turn?”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Kuai sarcastically replied before he could stop himself. The second it slipped from his lips, his eyes widened, watching the way Sektor’s face warped. “I- I- I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.” Kuai felt the panic rise in his chest when his pathetic apologies were clearly not being accepted. “I am so sorry, I’ll be better next time I promise.”

To his relief, the hand around his throat retreated, only to feel himself being yanked forward. The world spun as he was thrown in a completely different direction, side protesting the action. He fell back onto something soft. Lifting his head, it took him an embarrassing couple of seconds to realise he was on Sektor’s bed, with Sektor himself standing above him.

He looked so god damn pissed, face twisted and teeth bared, his chest heaving from how heavy he was breathing.

“I-I really am sorry.” He didn’t know if this would work. He just didn’t want this to escalate, especially when he was already injured. He scrambled to sit up slightly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d fucking better,” Sektor hissed between his teeth. “This shit is why you haven’t earned a name yet.”

Kuai flinched at that. Somehow that hurt more than any physical blow Sektor could have delivered to him. Actually at this point Kuai wished it had been a punch. That would be easier to deal with. The fact he still had not received his codename was a very sore point. Most Lin Kuei got theirs in their early to mid teens, and yet Kuai Liang was 19 and had still not done enough in the eyes of the Grandmaster. He really didn’t know how much more he could give.

“Did I hit a nerve?” Sektor asked, voice dripping with poison. “Now you know how I feel every time you do stupid shit that reflects badly on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuai whispered, keeping his head low. All he’d done was ask for clarification on an order he didn’t fully understand. He’d just wanted to make sure he got it right, he really wasn’t trying to be disrespectful or disobey. Was that really a crime that justified this screaming and berating?

“Oh, you are always sorry, Snowstorm.” Sektor took a few steps forward, and then there was a hand hooking under Kuai’s chin and forcing his face up. “The problem is you’re never sorry enough to actually make any changes.”

He tried. As the Elder Gods themselves as his witness, he swore he tried. The expectations of him just always seemed to change, they constantly moved the goal posts and he couldn’t keep up. He swore they didn’t seem to do this with anyone but him. They’d already decided he was a failure, and they were determined to make that a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“I know. I’ll do better. I will.” He knew that he couldn’t. He would never be better, and they’d never accept he was even trying to be better. But if saying it would placate Sektor, it was worth lying his ass off about.

Sektor didn’t reply, just pulled away with an annoyed sigh. Thankfully Kuai was well versed at this point in distracting Sektor from his anger. He knew exactly what would turn this situation around.

He slid off the bed, allowing himself to kneel on the floor before Sektor. His hands reached to Sektor’s hips, loosely clinging to Sektor’s belt. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his side from the bruising lacing his ribs.

“Let me make it up to you,” Kuai purred, carefully tugging on Sektor’s trousers.

Sektor huffed, reaching down to slap Kuai’s hand away. Initially, Kuai assumed his advances were being rejected, until Sektor hissed at him “hands behind your back.”

Kuai gave a relieved sigh, putting his hands behind his back like he was told. As he did so, Sektor reached for his belt, undoing it and moving the fabric of his trousers down just enough for his cock to spring free. He was already half hard, clearly Kuai Liang’s pleading had begun to get him fired up. Typical.

“Open your mouth,” Sektor ordered, reaching one hand to stroke his cock slightly, trying to coax it to further harden. Kuai did as he was told, letting his mouth hang open, ready and waiting for what Sektor intended to give him. Sektor tutted. “Of course you can follow these sorts of orders, whore.”

Before Kuai could do or say anything in retaliation, Sektor surged forward, lining his cock up with Kuai’s open mouth and thrusting in. With one swift motion, Sektor’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Kuai to gag.

There was very little ceremony and certainly no foreplay. Sektor grabbed the back of Kuai’s head, using his hair as an anchor. The thrusts were fast and rough, barely giving Kuai a chance to prepare for the onslaught. He gagged a few more times, something he hadn’t really done in a while.

Sektor didn’t pause, and Kuai was okay with that. He could handle it, actually he rather enjoyed it. Being dominated, being subservient and submissive. It excited him in ways it probably shouldn’t. The fact his own cock was stirring in his pants was a testament to that.

“Fuck. At least there’s one thing you’re good at,” Sektor growled, throwing his head back and shoving himself in as far as he could.

Something about that made Kuai happy. It wasn’t exactly praise, but it was the closest to it he’d had in a long time. He purred around Sektor’s cock, pushing the flat of his tongue against the length as Sektor continued to thrust in and out. The loud groan told Kuai his efforts were appreciated. With Sektor setting the pace so thoroughly, it was the only way he could really contribute.

He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, time seemed to mean nothing when he could feel his knees start to ache from where they rubbed against the stone floor. His jaw painfully locked in place as Sektor used his mouth. The taste of precum smearing across his tongue with every thrust. Kuai desperately kept his hands clasped together, nails digging into the opposite hand in an attempt to stop himself from reaching down for his own cock. He hadn’t been given permission yet, and he knew Sektor would be displeased if he disobeyed now.

Suddenly, Sektor pulled Kuai forwards, until his nose was touching Sektor’s pelvis. Hands kept him still in place, as his mouth was filled with cum. The salty taste hit his tongue and the back of his throat immediately. Sektor rocked his hips back and forth a couple of more times, before finally pulling out with a wet pop. Kuai closed his eyes and swallowed, hearing the unmistakable sound of fabric.

When Kuai reopened his eyes, Sektor was turned away, fiddling with his clothing, replacing his cock in his pants. Kuai gave a happy sigh, and whispered “I love you.”

Sektor stilled, going completely rigid for a few seconds. He then continued to put himself back into place, completely ignoring what Kuai Liang had just said. It was always like this, but that was okay. Sektor didn’t have to say it back, Kuai Liang could vocalise it for the both of them.

“I need to go talk to my father, to fix your mess,” Sektor snarled, finally turning back to Kuai and pointing at his face. “You will stay right here and wait for me to return. I am not done with you. If I find out you have left this room at any point, you will regret it.”

Kuai took the hand in front of him, pulling it to his mouth as he kissed Sektor’s knuckles. “I’ll wait for you.”

Sektor gave a cruel laugh, the sort where it was clear that Kuai was exactly where the other man wanted him. He patted Kuai’s face a couple of times, before straightening himself out, and striding towards the door.

With a slam of the door, Sektor was gone, and Kuai was left still kneeling on the floor. He smiled to himself, letting himself lean back against the bed. He held his hands to his chest, as if his feelings were so large they were about to burst out, and this was the only way to keep them contained.

But… there were no feelings.

There were no butterflies, no heart palpitations, no feelings of breathlessness. All he felt was a deep sinking emptiness. Like his chest was completely void, his entire soul having been carved out of his body. His hand curled up into a fist, taking a deep breath to try and ground himself.

This was fine. Everything was fine. This was just how he felt after every encounter they had, he was used to it by now. He’d wanted it this way. Sure, Sektor wouldn’t say those three simple words back to him, but that was just what Sektor was like. He couldn’t say them, he couldn’t show affection because if anyone found out it would be seen as a weakness. Definitely not something the next Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei should be showing.

Yet Kuai could not deny that he craved it. He craved Sektor telling him he loved him. He craved soft touches and lazy mornings. Just the two of them holding each other close. Maybe if he was lucky, when Sektor became Grandmaster, he’d get what he wanted.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the hollowness and the tears that rolled down his cheeks, and imagined a future where he and Sektor did not have to hide anymore.

“From this day on, you shall be known as Tundra.”

Kuai bowed in respect towards Grandmaster Oniro, despite knowing full well this code name was yet another indication of all his deficiencies.

Tundra. Hardly the most intimidating of names, it sounded like it belonged to a cuddly puppy than a trained assassin. Maybe to some it would bring to mind harsh conditions and barren wilderness, but to Kuai Liang it just sounded… Soft. Like The Lin Kuei’s elders accused him of being far too often. They wanted him to be harsher, yet they gave him a name like that?

And the way Grandmaster Oniro looked at him, sneering and spiteful. As if this name was meant to twist in the knife representing the fact Kuai Liang would never be Sub Zero. He had accepted a long time ago that Bi-Han deserved the title far more than he ever would, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hurtful to have it thrown in his face. That he’d never be good enough to be Sub Zero, even if something were to happen to Bi-Han.

But what could he say? He couldn’t voice displeasure at the name, that would just earn him even more trouble. They could even take his name away from him. Even if Tundra was given to him as an insult, he’d still worked hard to earn the name, he couldn’t lose it now just because he wanted to be a spoilt brat about it.

And really, he should be thankful that Sektor hadn’t wormed his opinion in and ensured his codename was Snowstorm. As in love as he was with Sektor, sometimes the way the man made every action he took towards Kuai into some weird power play made Kuai’s skin crawl. So, at the very least, for now Sektor didn’t have that kind of control over his life.

What the fuck will it be like when Sektor becomes Grandmaster?

He pushed those feelings aside, straightening up from his bow and stating “I am honoured to be assigned my codename, Grandmaster.”

“As you should be,” the Grandmaster spoke in a condescending tone. “It took you far too long, but I will admit, you actually did a good job on the Benjamin Ward assignment. Maybe there is more to you than we initially thought.”

Kuai fought so fucking hard to not let his surprise show. The fact the Grandmaster even remotely acknowledged that Kuai had actually done something well was shocking. He had to remain passive however, he couldn’t let it show how much the praise actually meant to him. That’d be a good way to ensure he never received any recognition ever again.

“I hope to continue to prove my worth to you, Grandmaster.” He wasn’t stupid. He knew this would likely be the only time he’d ever get that kind of compliment on his work.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” the Grandmaster grumbled, and any high Kuai might have been feeling from the compliment went crashing down around him. “You still have a long way to go before I will accept we made the right choice in not executing you a long time ago.” Despite the urge to lower his head at that, Kuai kept it held high, knowing that the Grandmaster was saying these to get a reaction. “But, your bloodline is a prestigious one, and even one such as yourself could pass on your cryomancy genes to the next, and hopefully better, generation.”

Kuai almost bit his lip at that. Passing on my genes. He wondered how the Grandmaster would react if he knew that most likely wasn’t going to happen. Sektor had made it pretty clear to Kuai that once he became Grandmaster, his intent was to keep Kuai as his consort. And well…

Children between them wasn’t exactly possible, biologically speaking.

Though he supposed there were always other ways for him to have children. Not that Sektor would ever let him do those. He was far too possessive for anything like that.

“Regardless. The title is yours,” the Grandmaster continued, blissfully unaware that his son was fucking Kuai senseless most nights. “I do hope that I won’t come to regret giving it to you.”

“You won’t, Grandmaster.” Kuai bowed again, and the Grandmaster gave a rough sigh.

“You are dismissed, Tundra.”

Kuai didn’t stick around to be reprimanded for disobeying such a clear direction. He turned on his heel and made his way to the exit of the throne room. Once he stepped out into the corridor, shutting the large heavy doors behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. He’d made it through that with only a few hurt feelings. Despite his disappointment at himself, it could have gone so much worse.

A grey blur caught his eye, seconds before Tomas' face loomed in front of his own, hands grasping Kuai’s shoulders and eyes wide.

“Well? What happened? Are you okay? What did they want? Can I do anything to help, Kuai Liang?” The questions came at a mile a minute and Kuai almost laughed in poor Tomas face. It was nice though, that someone was concerned about him.

“I think you mean, can I do anything to help, Tundra,” Kuai corrected with a small grin, watching Tomas' face fall in confusion before it lit up in pure delight.

“You got your name?” He asked, and Kuai nodded in response. “Yes!”

Tomas suddenly grabbed Kuai around the waist, hauling him up into the air and spinning him around. Kuai giggled, even knowing that if anyone caught them they’d both get in trouble for it. Tomas seemed to remember himself and his surroundings, and quickly placed Kuai back on the ground.

“Sorry. I was excited,” he explained, reaching to brush his hair out of his face and revealing a bright red blush across his features.

“You seem more excited about it than I am,” Kuai joked, although really, Tomas did seem to be more elated by the news.

“So, how do you feel, Tundra?” Tomas asked gleefully, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet and grinning ear to ear. Kuai gave him a small smile, it was hard not to with the energy that Tomas was radiating.

“I’m proud,” he said shortly, hoping the sweet smile was enough to hide his real thoughts. I’m a failure.

“You should be,” Tomas cheered, throwing his arm around Kuai’s shoulders. He pulled Kuai close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “So, Cyrax and I were thinking about sneaking out later, and now we actually have something to celebrate, if you’re feeling like it.”

“Ah, you mean I get to break my first rule now I’m officially Tundra,” Kuai replied quietly, trying not to giggle too loudly. “You know I can’t resist that.”

“Great.” Tomas pulled Kuai into a small alcove. “We’re gonna slip out about 9pm, separately and then meet at the old watchtower. We’ll wait for about 20 minutes, so try not to be late.”

“Got it,” Kuai claimed with a grin.

Sure, he still felt useless, but at least he could try and put that aside by celebrating this minor achievement with two of his favourite people.

“Fucking take it, you slut!”

Kuai hissed as the man thrust inside him with speed and power. The man was holding Kuai’s wrists above his head with one hand, the other being used to occasionally grope and slap various parts of Kuai’s body. The problem was this man was obviously still holding back somewhat, and Kuai did not want that. He wanted to be absolutely ruined by this man.

He didn’t know the man’s name. He never knew the names of anyone he slept with, and he was just fine with that. In turn, they never knew his name either, in this setting he was exclusively known as either slut, or whore, or bitch. He made sure to find men who just wanted one night of rough no-holds-barred sex. One night where they could be as degrading as they wanted to be, because that’s exactly what Kuai Liang desired. He was tough enough to take anything they could throw at him.

Which is why it was annoying to him that this man was clearly holding back.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Kuai taunted, rolling his hips in time to the man’s thrust. When he saw the way the man’s face warped into displeasure, he knew he was about to get the reaction he wanted. “I can barely feel anything.”

The man responded by slamming the palm on his hand against Kuai’s face, hard enough to make Kuai’s head snap to one side.

Kuai laughed, “that’s more like it.”

“Fuck, you’re a masochist,” the man groaned, grabbing Kuai’s chin and forcing him to look at him again. “You really just want to be used as an object, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kuai replied with a dreamy sigh, a lewd moan escaping his lips as the man's cock hit his prostate. God he was so close, he just needed a little more.

The man pressed Kuai’s wrists harder against the mattress, free hand roaming Kuai’s body, now with renewed purpose. Feeling at Kuai’s pecs, the touch was far more demanding, hard enough that it could possibly leave marks or bruises. Plucking at Kuai’s nipples and stretching them far longer than he should have. Running his nails down Kuai Liang’s sides, hard enough that Kuai could feel blood bead from where the skin split. Occasionally returning to Kuai’s face to slap him again.

This is what he needed. This is what he deserved.

All it took was one more hard thrust and Kuai Liang was coming. He arched his back off the bed and groaned. The man didn’t stop though, just kept thrusting and chasing his own pleasure. It was only when he gave a loud groan that Kuai knew he’d also reached orgasm. There was no feeling of being filled, the condom made sure of that. He would forever be thankful to Cyrax for pulling him aside as a teenager and teaching him of the dangers sex could present. No one else would have done so.

The man jerked his hips back and forth a couple more times, Kuai could feel him growing soft inside him. Eventually, he released Kuai’s wrists, pulling out and away.

Kuai lowered his arms to cover his face, making a satisfied noise. It had taken some provoking, but he’d gotten what he wanted in the end. He smiled to himself, panting and really soaking in the afterglow. The pleasure was still there, deep in his stomach, even as various parts of him began to ache from the rough treatment. That just amplified the bliss for him.

He was brought out of his stupor when he heard the sound of fabric rustling. He brought his arms down and shifted onto his side, watching as the man collected his clothes off the floor and began to put them back on. Kuai pouted slightly.

“Not going to stay for a second round?” Kuai questioned, resting his head on his hand and giving the most smolderingly lustful look he could give at that moment.

The man gave a tut and replied with “fucking hell, a bit insatiable, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told.” And he had. By many of the men he’d brought back here. Thankfully a lot of them were as sexually hungry as he was, and were more than willing to go all night until Kuai just couldn’t physically handle any more.

“I have work in the morning,” the man explained, and Kuai couldn’t help but feel it was a weak excuse. Who goes out to a bar on a night they have to go to work? “So… Yeah.”

“Right. That's… fine.” He tried not to sound disappointed. He was, but he didn’t want it to show. It’d been a while since he found someone up for an all nighter, and he’d hoped this would be one. But hey. When exactly did Kuai ever get what he wanted? “Thanks for the night.”

“Uh. Yeah, you too.” The man finished putting his clothes on, doing an awkward half bow and half wave as he turned to leave out the door. Kuai watched him go, no point in chasing after someone who didn’t want to be there, especially someone Kuai had no intent on ever seeing again after that night.

But now, he was left alone in his room with only his thoughts for company.

And quite frankly, they tended to be fucking awful company.

He pushed himself onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling. The pleasant feeling in his body began to fade, and all that was left was the ache. His sides stung from where the man's nails had dug into his skin, his chest was tender from how hard the man had squeezed it, his wrists were red and starting to bruise, his cheek was throbbing. And god damn, his ass was sore, deep inside as well, not enough that he was concerned there was damage but enough that it was hard to ignore.

But… this was what I wanted right? To be held down and used like a sex toy. To have someone dominate him so completely. To be fucked so hard he couldn’t breathe or walk right for weeks.

So… why was that empty pit in his chest opening again? The same one he used to get with Sektor. Why did he just want one person to stay with him after the fact and make sure he was okay? That was such a selfish wish, wasn’t it? The world didn’t revolve around him, it was unfair of him to ask for more, especially from strangers.

He ran his hand down his chest, wincing slightly when his fingers hit something wet. He brought his hand up to look at the cum now lacing his fingertips. He just stared at it, his previous high coming crashing down around him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like the sex, he fucking loved it. At least, he loved it when it was happening. Yet somehow, every single time it was over, he was left feeling like this. Used, useless, craving for something more than the harsh hands he sought out. Something no one seemed to be able to give him. Something no one was willing to give him.

Maybe even something he would never receive.

He wanted to be loved. Some days he felt like his chest would burst from how much he wanted to love someone and have them return those feelings. Even now, after everything Sektor had put him through, he still fucking loved that bastard. But did Sektor love him back? Had Sektor ever loved him back?

Or was a sex toy all Kuai Liang could ever be to someone else?

His breathing hitched and his eyes began to sting. When he blinked to clear his eyes, he felt tears rolling down his face. This was so pathetic. He was a grown man crying over the fact no one would ever love him.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself, placing his palm against his forehead. “So stupid.”

He closed his eyes, chanting the words so stupid to himself like a fucked up lullaby, waiting for sleep to claim him so that maybe in the morning he wouldn’t feel like such a piece of shit.

If love really did exist, it was clear that it was something the Elder Gods did not intend for him to experience.

“Hey! Grandmaster Blueberry Ice!”

Kuai smirked to himself, eyes closed and lying on his back in the middle of The Lin Kuei’s training courtyard. There was only one person foolish enough to call him by that nickname.

“Hello Jonathan,” Kuai greeted, opening his eyes to see, indeed, Johnny standing over him and looking down with a large grin on his face. “Can I help you?”

Johnny was a creature of habit. One of those habits was giving people the most ridiculous nickname’s Kuai Liang had ever heard. He was the only person who could give people those nicknames and walk away alive too. Kuai would never admit out loud that he was beginning to become fond of the Blueberry Ice nickname. Johnny was still the only person he’d allow to call him it, however.

“Just coming to ask a bit of a favour from my favourite Cryomancer,” Johnny claimed and Kuai gave a sly smile.

“I’m your favourite Cryomancer?” He teasingly questioned. “Or are you just trying to butter me up to get me to go through with some stupid plan you’ve come up with?”

“Excuse you, when have I ever come up with a stupid plan and tried to rope you into it?” Johnny asked, placing his hand on his chest in mock offence.

“Do you really want the list?“ Kuai sighed, pushing himself to sit up, before scrambling to try and actually stand. Johnny held out a hand, and Kuai took it, the other man helping haul him off the floor. “What do you need?”

“So, y’know I’ve been putting together a team with Special Forces?” Johnny asked and Kuai hummed in confirmation. From what Johnny had told him, the team consisted of 4 recruits, and while it sounded like they still had a long way to go in terms of working as a team, they did have a lot of promise. “Well, I was thinking about setting up a little test for them. Just to see how they might handle a difficult situation.”

“And I’m guessing you want The Lin Kuei to be their test?” Kuai assumed, with an eyebrow raised.

“Exactly. But I’m thinking of making it look real to them, y’know. Say that we lost contact with you, and need them to investigate.” Something about that caught Kuai Liang’s attention.

“Are you sure this is a test?” Kuai tilted his head slightly, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Because it rather sounds like you’re asking me to help you prank them.”

“Well, it being a prank doesn’t negate it being a test, it can be both those things.” Johnny shrugged dramatically and stuck his tongue out, and Kuai quickly put a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. “So, what do you say? Wanna help me prank these kids?”

Kuai couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, shaking his head and saying “you son of a bitch, I’m in.”

“Great,” Johnny cheered, pumping his fist in excitement. “I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but it’ll be easier now I have you on board. I’ll let you know more as I know.”

“Well, why don’t we have a cup of tea and at least discuss some ideas.” Kuai gestured towards the temple.

“God that sounds good.” They both turned and began walking towards the temple, with Johnny bringing up his hands to his biceps and making a brring sound. “I always forget how fucking cold it is up here.” Johnny glanced Kuai up and down. “Doesn’t help you’re constantly walking around with your tits out.”

“Yes, well, I don’t feel the cold like you do,” Kuai said with a shrug. “I’ll light a fire for you, if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” As they stepped inside, Kuai glanced at Johnny to notice an evil grin emerging on his face. “Speaking of fire…” Before Johnny could continue Kuai groaned, knowing exactly what was coming next. “How’s the Alliance with the Shirai Ryu doing?”

“It’s going well.” Kuai rubbed the back of his head, he wasn’t stupid enough to think the alliance was what Johnny was genuinely interested in. “Hanzo still seems a bit skittish around me, but it’s getting easier I suppose.”

“Uh huh,” Johnny drawled, closing his eyelids slightly and placing a hand on his chin. “So… You still haven’t told him yet, huh?”

Kuai choked on the air, face growing hot. Even knowing it was coming, the discussion of that particular topic still managed to get him flustered.

“No,” Kuai squeaked, hoping they wouldn’t run into any of his students. He didn’t exactly need them seeing him acting like a shy school girl over his crush. “I- I mean, it just seems like a bad idea, especially right now.”

“Is it a bad idea because you don’t think Hanzo will be able to handle your feelings, or a bad idea because you still have hang ups on if you deserve to be loved?” God damn, Johnny knew exactly which hard hitting questions to ask, and more importantly, how to ask them in a way that didn’t mean Kuai felt like he wanted to run for the hills rather than answer.

“A little of both, I guess.” He opened the door to his private quarters, stepping aside to let Johnny in first. He followed and shut the door behind him. “If there’s something that’s very clear to me, it’s that Hanzo very much still loves Harumi, and I do not wish to do anything that would get in the way of his grief.” He paused and sighed, “and well… You already know about the second one.”

“Okay. I am going to let you off this once, cause I agree that Grandmaster Grumpy Face is probably not ready for a new relationship.” Johnny reached forward and gently patted his shoulder. “But I do think you need to tell him how you feel at some point. Because otherwise, those feelings are just gonna eat you alive, and it’ll just get harder to say as time goes by.” Johnny gave him a smile. “And despite what you think, you do deserve to be happy, Kuai Liang.”

Kuai nodded, and smiled slightly. Really his feelings for Hanzo were new and, for the first time in his life, terrifying. He wanted love so badly, but he felt so guilty even thinking of asking that of Hanzo. Then there was that scary thought that even if Hanzo did accept his feelings, it would just end up how it did in the past. Mindless sex with little to no emotion. Kuai Liang giving his all and wearing his heart on his sleeve just for it to be stomped all over.

He didn’t truly believe that Hanzo would be so cruel and callous with him, yet there was a traitorous part of his mind that whispered “but what if he is?”

“I will keep that in mind.” He would, he supposed. One day he’d have to get over his fears. But for now, he could push it away. That was something for future Kuai Liang to worry about. “I’ll get the fire started.”

The conversation thankfully returned back to the subject of the test. Still, even as Johnny and he discussed the details, there was a part of Kuai thinking about Hanzo, and wondering if there really was any possibility that he could be with him.

“I love you, Snowflake.”

Kuai did not stifle his moans as Hanzo kissed along his neck. He was on his back, being gently pressed against the mattress by Hanzo’s body. The pressure was just right, he didn’t feel like he was being smothered, it was more reassuring than that.

One of Hanzo’s hands was on the side of Kuai’s face, the other hooked under one of Kuai’s legs, lifting it up. Kuai’s hands were wrapped around Hanzo’s torso, resting on Hanzo’s back and pushing him closer. Holding him like if he didn’t he’d just disappear from his arms. Another kiss, sucked into the skin of Kuai’s neck reassured him that would not happen.

Hanzo thrusted his hips, gently but expertly aimed. Hitting Kuai’s sweet spot exactly and making his toes curl. He whined, rolling his hips a little to meet Hanzo’s own movements. Everything about this felt amazing, the way Hanzo stretched him out, the way he managed to hit that bundle of nerves every time. Hanzo’s lips were still practically glued to Kuai’s neck, showering him with kisses.

“Hanzo,” Kuai breathed out, arching his back and closing his eyes. “Hanzo.” The name came from his lips like he was giving a sermon. This experience was holy, sacred and Kuai Liang never wanted to stop feeling this way.

Their sex could get rough, they had fun figuring out their shared kinks. But even then it was different from the experiences he’d had before. Hanzo cared about his comfort, it was important to him to know exactly how Kuai was feeling throughout. And when everything was over? He never just left Kuai Liang to deal with the aftermath alone. He was there, doting on Kuai, spoiling him and showering him with adoration.

But then there were nights like this. Nights where there were no harsh touches or words. Only softness that frightened Kuai Liang at first for how foreign it was to him. He was so used to roughness that Hanzo being gentle, like Kuai Liang may break in his hands if he weren’t, was something he was genuinely unsure of at first. Could someone like him be gentle? Did he deserve it?

As Hanzo reached down between their torsos, gripping Kuai’s cock firmly and stroking, Kuai decided he no longer cared if he deserved this or not. This was wonderful, everything Hanzo did was wonderful, and he knew that he would be addicted to the other man's touch for the rest of his life. He couldn’t live without him.

“Hanzo,” Kuai gasped out desperately, fingers working his cock so wonderfully. “Please.”

“Let go, Kuai Liang,” Hanzo whispered in his ear, thumb reaching the head of his cock to circle it.

Kuai couldn’t hold back any longer, he gasped loudly as he came, closing his eyes as the pleasure flowed through him in waves. Hanzo continued to stroke him, helping him chase the aftershocks of pleasure. He knew throughout it all, his hole clenched around Hanzo’s cock, and given how snappy his thrusts were getting, it wouldn’t be long before he was coming too.

Hanzo desperately searched for Kuai’s lips, locking with his own, muffling his own loud moan. Kuai Liang could feel himself being filled, and god, it felt so weird how much of a blissful experience it was. Knowing that even once Hanzo pulled out, that part of him was still deep inside. That meant so much to Kuai in a way not even he could comprehend.

Hanzo broke the kiss, only to pepper a few more light pecks across Kuai’s face. Another display of affection that Kuai Liang adored. He giggled, even as he felt Hanzo remove himself. There was a very brief spike of panic, the fear this would be the day that Hanzo just up and left him. It was quickly snuffed out, when Hanzo’s hands cupped his face.

“Are you well, love?” Hanzo asked, and Kuai almost cried that such a small action made his heart sing.

“I am, thank you.” Kuai lent up to give Hanzo another quick kiss. “Thank you.”

Hanzo chuckled, clearly holding back from telling Kuai that he didn’t have to thank him. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

He moved off the bed, before scooping Kuai up in his arms. Kuai wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s neck, partially for stability, and partially because it helped him feel closer. Hanzo navigated the room, quickly reaching the ensuite bathroom. He carefully placed Kuai down in the tub, running the taps.

“I’ll get the soaps.” Hanzo stood up to go and walk over to the cabinet. He called over his shoulder. “Is there anything else you desire?”

“Could I have some mochi ice cream? Chocolate flavour, of course.” He felt a little silly about the clarification. But Hanzo didn’t say anything, just gave a small amused sigh.

“You can have anything you wish for, Snowflake.”

Snowflake. Hanzo had several pet names for Kuai, but Snowflake was the one that always stood out to Kuai. It felt so much more personal than any of the others.

Kuai thought back at the various names he’d been called over the years. He’d always just accepted them, never really thought about it. Most of the time, the reason for the name was obvious. And while he could think of at least one reason for it, the curiosity on if there was more to Snowflake than he realised was all too much.

“Hanzo,” Kuai softly spoke to get his lover's attention. Hanzo looked over his shoulder, still trying to get out the things he wanted for the bath. “Why do you call me Snowflake?”

Hanzo’s face dropped a little, and in a worried tone he asked “do you not like being called that?”

“Oh, I love it,” Kuai assured him, holding his hands up as if to try and reassure Hanzo. “I was just curious if there was a particular reason for it.” He tilted his head. “Other than it being winter related, that is.”

“I see.” Hanzo finished grabbing what he needed from the cabinet, walking over to place them by the side of the bath. “Well, I guess I call you that, because snowflakes remind me of you.” Hanzo knelt down on the floor beside him. “They float through the air so gracefully, like you on the battlefield. They are delicate, and yet so strong in the right circumstance. They have a tendency to bring delight to those who witness them. Your mere presence in the world changes it. Everyone is different and unique, just as you are amongst our peers.” Hanzo looked straight into Kuai Liang’s eyes and smiled softly as he answered with “and most importantly… They are beautiful, as are you.”

Kuai hiccupped. There they were, the butterflies. There were tears in his eyes, but this time, they were good ones. Even now, the way Hanzo talked about him left him feeling like his heart genuinely could beat from his chest. He was not used to it, and he hoped he never would be just so he could never take Hanzo’s love for granted.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked, placing his hand on Kuai’s cheek carefully. Obviously the tears were concerning him.

“I’m wonderful.” Kuai smiled, letting Hanzo see that it was just overwhelming happiness flowing through him. He reached forward himself, placing his hand on Hanzo’s cheek in turn. “You are wonderful.” He lent forward, pressing his lips to Hanzo’s. When he felt the other man kiss him back, he couldn’t help the exhale from his nose. He wrapped his hands around Hanzo’s neck, resting his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, and he happily sighed “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanzo replied, his own hands now reaching to cradle Kuai gently. “I am so grateful that you are mine.”

Somehow, all those years of dreaming could not prepare Kuai Liang for how this felt. It wasn’t everything he imagined. No. It was better than anything he’d thought possible for him.

To love, and be loved in return.

Maybe the Elder Gods were smiling down on him after all.

#hurtcomfortbingo #mortal kombat #subscorp #seksub #kuai liang #sub zero #scorpion #hanzo hasashi #sektor #mk sektor #🫧hurt and comfort bingo

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pineappleciders · 2 years

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Hmm. I want to request something.

Alright, since ghosts are pretty much canonical in the real world, how would the OMOgang react to finding one? Perhaps the ghost of Mari?

-🪐

TRIGGER WARNING: OMORI spoilers, OMORI irls, MARI's incident

how i think the OMOgang would react to meeting MARI's ghost

probably angst warning :3

SUNNY

i know we see MARI's ghost in the game a lot,, so i feel like pre-ending (as in before SUNNY gets better) he'd assume that he's just hallucinating as he usually hallucinates things from headspace (or maybe he'd fade into his imagination and white space?)

he'd definitely feel like. a twinge of sadness in his heart every time he sees her but he wouldn't really think about it as to keep himself safe from the truth

post-game i think he'd break down and cry,, and sob even harder if she talks to him or tries to hug him

still assumes he's hallucinating, even if it's incredibly vivid

he'd probably have terrible flashbacks, especially if the hair of her ghost was messy or long. might retreat into white space out of stress, and let OMORI take over

AUBREY

i feel like she'd be a little scared,,, like she never really thought about spirits and paranormal stuff before and it's kinda scary

she would definitely tear up and probably break down. it's been so long since she's seen her face, AUBREY almost forgot what she looked like

she'd probably go to a psychiatrist the day after because she thinks she's going crazy or something

probably curls up in MARI's arms and just cries. it's been awhile since she's felt her hugs. she might even start to talk about everything on her mind, everything that happened after she died. AUBREY knows she's imagining it, but she'll take any chance she can get to talk to her again.

KEL

he'd be really confused and a little scared. he thought it was in his imagination, but she was there so clearly,,

he tears up and starts sniffling. he's incredibly out of it and doesn't know whats going on, but the sight of MARI in the flesh clenches his heart

as a kid the thought of ghosts kinda scared him and he didn't like to think about it. he's grown and doesn't really believe in them anymore but he's shaking in his boots when he sees MARI

"M..MARI?"

he isn't sure what to do, and probably lives the next couple of days in fear and a sense of haziness and confusion. he wants to talk to HERO about it, but he's worried he'll get all fussy and send him to a mental institution or something

HERO

nah im bout to cry 😭😭

i wouldn't be surprised if HERO experienced some hallucinations and psychosis following her death, and they faded more and more as he grew and got somewhat better

he assumes he's losing it again and it stresses him out so he probably breaks down, similar to how he did with KEL

if MARI talks to him he dissociates even worse . it's been so long since he's heard her voice, especially if she's saying something like "i love you"

he might try to reach out to her and cries harder if his hand fades right through her. he visits her grave the next day and stares at the gravestone in silence

also starts seeing a therapist and taking anti-psychotic meds. he doesn't know she was a real ghost, and doesn't want to entertain the thought

BASIL

he's actually shaking in his boots. a little bit because he's scared, but mostly because he's reliving her death all over again

especially if he sees her in SUNNY's house.

he's probably frozen in shock for a little bit, before falling to his knees and sobbing, gripping whatever is in his hands

MARI kneels down next to him and probably takes his hand, and he looks up and so many memories come back. of all the times she's been there for him, during all the good and all the bad. it makes his heart clench

he feels like he's going crazy, he's shaking and everything is hazy. is he having an episode? he assumes so, but he isn't really in a state to think straight

#omori #omori spoilers #omori angst #sunny omori #aubrey omori #kel omori #hero omori #basil omori #mari omori #omori headcanons #omori fandom #heromari angst #heromari #pineappleciders

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saltandfire-blog · 10 months

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Lucerys Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

Salt and Fire

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in - blood and salt.

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Notes: Thank you so much for reading and hope you enjoyed this beast of a chapter! I'm sorry this took longer to put out than usual, I've been trying to catch up on a lot of stuff before the holidays hit. I feel like my Aemond chapters really are the longest, but I think it's just because I enjoy his character so much. I don't like to rewrite scenes from the series, especially since I'm sure we've all read it a million times already, but when I rewatched it to see if I should include the training yard scene, I HAD too. There was actually so much Aemond/Jace tension, I couldn't not include it in the chapter where the division between them all is really starting to protrude. I'd like to apologize but I really did mean it when I tagged this was a slow burn and I hope I haven't lost too many people from all this character building. It's all important guys I promise, hang in there!

Last chapter, I was actually really surprised by the mixed reviews I received! Not that any were bad or mean, but I was definitely not expecting how unfavorably some people reacted to Luke's participation with the Pink Dread. I've always heard that if you can get your viewers emotional and invested, you've done something right. So thank you guys and all your awesome comments and feedback! Your predictions are especially fun to read.

Just a fun fact, I'd just like to mention that as Luke get's older, I see him portrayed as a young Jack Dylan Grazer from this point on when he played Eddie in IT around this time in the story. And also, Alyssa Arryn is not actually mine and belongs to G.R.R., but I did fluff up to the story a bit differently than in GoT to pertain more towards the story.

I am so thankful for any and all views I get and feel so grateful just to see people are reading. If you're feeling generous enough, please leave your thoughts!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Chapter Ten

let me down slowly.

Aemond pulled his sword back and aimed a high right, then again for another high left, his opponent, a straw man, wobbled on its stand as he practiced the sequences he and Ser Criston had gone over that morning. High right, high left, duck, turn, low left, high right. Ser Criston had warned him he was to break fast with his mother that morning and had to return to his duties as the day started, but after their last conversation Aemond had been adamant he go on ahead and leave him to practice for a while longer. He was still tempering himself, his face hot and adrenaline steaming that he could not bring himself to retreat inside just yet to start the day and it seemed Ser Criston understood this. He went over the training session he had that morning over and over in head. His sword lessons were always a reprieve from everything going on around him, but today when he'd thrown himself into their practice, he had used his sword more as an outlet and swung with all his might, putting all his pent up anger behind every swing. He had grown tired quickly but had snapped at any of Ser Criston’s warning that he would not last their whole lesson if he continued on that way.

“When can I train with steel?” he had asked instead, bringing up the same insistent argument he had been having with Cole for almost a year now.

Ser Criston put down his own practice sword, sighing before dipping his head and answered him quietly.

“When you're ready, my Prince.”

Aemond was indignant and already brooding; the same answer his father’s Kingsguard continued to give was the excuse he was looking for to snap at him.

“I'm ready now.”

“A week ago I might have agreed.”

“And now?”

“You have…much anger, my Prince, and you must learn to be cautious with it,” Cole told him. “Anger can bring forth a certain strength, it's true. But resentment loses focus. And that is when mistakes are made, Prince Aemond. If it is emotion that drives you, you must control it, or in true combat you will find it guiding your sword towards certain death.”

He did not know how else to release the storm that had been teeming inside him, and Ser Criston's scorn pressed down on his bruises even harder.

Yet it was difficult to truly throw anger towards Ser Criston when he was right.

Aemond was filled with it.

If he were a pot or a cauldron, he'd be bubbling and frothing, steaming into the air to burn anyone who tried to lift his top. At first his anger had been focally at Cole. The day after his mother and Rhaenyra had fought outside his room he was expected at the training yard. Ser Criston was not a man to change his plans and was dutiful and dependent, yet Aemond had been reluctant when his mother urged him he must uphold his commitments and did not allow him to skip lessons. Of course his mother had been quick to defend her most trusted sworn sword, remembering how she confessed to Aemond after Rhaenyra had yanked Luke from his rooms that they had heard shouting and had only meant to listen in concern.

It had been brief, but his ire had flickered towards his mother as well.

“She’s right mother,” he almost cried. “This grudge you have…”

I’m tired of being bled on…

His mother had looked at him, like what he said pained her, and she had gotten on her knees before him and took his hands in hers and swore to him she was not tampering with his letters.

“But I have allowed this friendship to carry on for too long between you two,” she told him, like what she said aggrieved her as much as it did him.

“You are so smart, my son, my cleverest. You wanted to read before you could not even walk and can do your numbers far better than any other boy at your age I've known. You are more precocious than any of my children, and you are kind, and for that I think is why you find less joy than your siblings. So I’ve let you keep this happiness that boy seems to bring you. But it must end, Aemond.”

“Why, mother? Why are you so sure-“

“Because you must realize there will be a time Rhaenyra will need to secure her throne. One day, when she is cornered and the realm seeks to crown your brother, she will need to rid herself of any challenges.”

His nails were digging into his palms and his cheek was stinging as he bit down until he could taste metallic behind his teeth while he endured to listen to the same lecture his mother had given them many times.

“Those challenges are you. You and your brothers, any sons your sister has, all will be put to the sword if Rhaenyra is allowed to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Especially if she intends to place her bastards as her heirs and bend the entire realm to such a change in tradition. You all are living, breathing reminders to all who their true ruler should be.“

“I – I don’t believe she would…she wouldn’t-”

“We cannot place all our lives on optimism, my son,” she urged, squeezing his hands. “Despite all my efforts to council your father, I fear he will not see reason before he passes Aemond. We must be ready. And you are only setting yourself up for pain, my dearest.”

She had wiped his tears even when he still protested and Ser Criston watched on without a word. He did not need to when Aemond could see it in his dark eyes. He had made it all but plain before. Ser Criston thought him weak for holding onto his friendship with Lucerys.

Before the pig, Aemond had always fought against everyone. Even when she pulled Aegon by his shirt, hissed at them so insistently that they needed to be careful around their eldest sister's children, or murmured warnings in their ears, he had stopped insisting aloud but silently believed them to be untrue. You are her greatest threat, she had always insisted. And she warned Aemond most of all. She had cautioned him many times before against this heartbreak he was sure to face if he continued his kinship with Lucerys. He had never believed her, insisting her claims could not possibly be true.

Yet here he stood, gaping and bleeding.

Because of Lucerys fucking Velaryon.

Or Waters, if he was truly done playing pretend for Luke’s sake.

Continue at A03

#aemond targaryen #fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #lucerys targaryen #westeros #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x lucerys #lucerys velaryon #lucemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #lucerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction

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whump-me · 1 year

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Martyr, Chapter 10: Playing His Part

Chapter 10 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: defiant whumpee, cold whumper, restraints, interrogation, verbal sparring, referenced aftermath of torture

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Wraith

He let his face grow solemn as he met her cold eyes. He took a deep breath and forced down the contempt, the ever-burning fury, and most of all, the sense of triumph.

He pictured Gabriel. Gabriel ten years ago, tamping down Wraith’s fire until Wraith learned to master it instead of the other way around. Gabriel the last time Wraith had seen him, weighed down by the world’s sorrows, refusing to rest, refusing to let someone else carry the burden for a while.

If Gabriel were the one in this chair, what would he say?

“In a way,” he said, “I guess we’re both two halves of the same coin. That doesn’t mean I agree with what you’ve done, mind you. But we were both barely more than kids back then, our lives torn apart by tragedies we weren’t equipped to face. We were both driven to unthinkable things by an unthinkable situation.”

There. Gabriel would have said those words verbatim. Wraith would have put money on it.

“We are nothing alike,” Isadora said. “I have never committed an act of violence unprovoked. And no matter what false morality you cloak mass murder in, that doesn’t change what it is.”

If he were just listening to her words, he might have thought she didn’t like what he had said. But he was more concerned with what he saw on her face and in her eyes. The infinitesimal lines of tension that had appeared on her face disappeared as he spoke. By the time he was done, she looked like that cold marble goddess again.

Because he had given her what she wanted. He had given her Gabriel—and thus, what she thought was the key to his heart.

He wanted to laugh. He kept the emotion off his face. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do—he had always burned hot and bright, with no subtlety in him—but he knew how to keep himself under control when he had to. It was how he’d gotten the reputation of not being afraid of anything.

Isadora studied him, waiting. She wanted more, and he had to give it to her. Be Gabriel. Let her see what she wanted to see. Until she let her guard down and gave him an opening. What form that opening would take, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had a chance where none had existed before.

“No unprovoked violence? What would you call this?” He waggled his last three unbroken fingers. “It wasn’t like I threw a punch before you started breaking bones.”

She frowned—a tiny movement of her muscles, almost imperceptible—and he realized his mistake too late. Gabriel would never have led by talking about himself.

“What about that old man’s friends?” he hastily added, and watched her face relax. “What about their families, who had done nothing wrong? Children. You hung them in the tunnels where the posters had been and left their bodies to rot. We’ve never killed a child, not in ten years. How dare you sit there and say we provoked you into that, as if you had no choice, as if you—”

He cut himself off, swallowing his words down with a gulp. His chest was tight, his blood hot in his veins. Gabriel didn’t speak out of anger. There was a thin line between moral conviction and white-hot rage, but Gabriel never crossed it. So Wraith couldn’t either.

“You’re not better than us,” he said, once his anger had cooled enough to let him speak in a steady voice. “It’s tempting to retreat into moral superiority, isn’t it? It makes it easier. I know. I feel the same temptation. But in truth, there’s more alike between us than different.”

He gritted his teeth and choked down a scream. He had never suspected how painful it would be to be Gabriel. God, how did the man say this kind of stuff and mean it?

“We may be on opposite sides, but ultimately, we believe in the same thing,” he continued. “We want to keep our people safe, and we share the same ultimate goal—to end this cycle of death. We’d prefer not to do it through violence, but we will if we have to.”

That, too, was all Gabriel. Wraith had no objection to violence. He preferred it to the alternative—leaving the bad guys alive to fight another day. Gabriel could mourn their deaths if he wanted. Wraith would go right on celebrating every time one of them met their end at his hands.

He’d had this very argument with Gabriel more than once—all this we and Earth both ultimately want the same thing bullshit. The maudlin booze-fueled philosophical spiral of there has to be a better way than us killing them, and them killing us, on and on into eternity. And it looked like he was right about Isadora being Gabriel’s evil twin, because he saw her give a tiny nod, so small a movement he wasn’t sure she was aware she was doing it. She agreed with all this nonsense—of course she did, because she and Gabriel shared that same flaw at the core of their thinking, that same blind spot that made it impossible for them to see that sometimes it really was as simple as bad guys are bad, good guys are good.

Of course, unlike Gabriel, Isadora didn’t seem to have any problem doing what needed to be done.

Isadora leaned across the table toward him. Her eyes searched his like she was seeking salvation there. Was this why she had wanted to talk? Because she had wanted to find the key to him? And now she thought she had. She thought she understood him. More than that, she thought they were two of a kind.

He had her.

“Most of my people wouldn’t understand this, but I actually have quite a bit of respect for you,” he said, trying not to vomit on his own words. He tried to imagine he was saying the words to Gabriel, and that let him breathe a little easier. He respected Gabriel more than anyone else in this life. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if you secretly felt the same for me,” he continued. “I know you imagine a meeting between us for a long time.”

“How can I respect you when I know nothing about you? For a decade, you’ve been nothing but an enigma.”

“But you do understand me. Because whether or not you want to admit it, you and I are the same.”

She let out a long breath and gave another of those tiny nods. “For the longest time, I didn’t understand how a man like you could possibly have the strength to lead a rebellion. Of course, I was going by what I heard of you. Rumors and secondhand information. It all made you out to be a saint.” The cold fire in her eyes glittered at him. “But you’re no more of a saint than I am, are you?”

“I’m no saint,” he agreed, with that sorrowful smile he knew so well from all his conversations with Gabriel. “Call me a crusader, if you like. I do what’s right, and I do what’s necessary. Even if some might find it unpalatable.”

Now those were the truest words he had spoken since he had started playing Gabriel for her.

“Crusader,” she said slowly, like she was tasting the word. “Yes. That’s the missing piece, isn’t it? They said you were wise and compassionate, which sounded to me like a coward with good publicity. But sometimes wisdom leads one to conclusions others don’t want to accept. And sometimes compassion requires ruthlessness.”

Wraith had to fight to keep himself from laughing. Ruthless was the last word he would have used to describe Gabriel. He himself was another story, but she wasn’t talking about him. She was talking about the role he was playing, and to imagine Gabriel, of all people, as ruthless was frankly hilarious. As for compassion… what did Isadora Pope know of compassion?

“You understand,” he said with a small nod, and reminded himself to pretend he was talking to Gabriel. It was the only way to get the words out. “You may be the only person who does.”

Isadora shook her head slowly. “One of life’s cruel ironies, isn’t it? For ten years, I’ve been trying to find someone who understands the importance of true conviction, the necessity of being willing to give up everything. It figures I would find him on the wrong side.”

Oh, he had his hooks in her good. A chuckle rose in his throat. He forced it down. He pasted one of Gabriel’s solemn expressions on his face instead. “I suspected for years that you were like me. You weren’t the only one anticipating this meeting. Although I planned for it to happen under different circumstances.” Namely, he had dreamed of all the colorful ways he might avenge his friends on her. But that wasn’t the part he was playing. Gabriel, he suspected, would have found something truly fulfilling in meeting his opposite number, despite everything he had done. True believers could be sick like that.

He schooled his face into the look of deep disappointment he always faced from Gabriel every time he made the kind of ruthless decision Gabriel couldn’t make for himself. The kind that brought that look of boundless sorrow to Gabriel’s eyes. The kind that had saved the rebellion more than once. “And here we are, finally meeting face-to-face… and you’ve put me in chains.”

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Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper

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