#im so weak for these two in every way shape and form | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riveroftales · 10 months ago

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😗Ummm…. Do you think you could do a little Drabble or some HCs about Genya with a mom figure? Like, maybe Himejima gets married and his wife meets Genya and is determined to give him a stable family and a good female role model. Like sure he totally ignores or is embarrassed by her at first but then she makes him food or cuts up watermelon for him 🥺 Maybe he eventually opens up to the “mom” and she tries to help him untangle all his teenage anger. MY POOR BOY NEEDS A FAMILY AND HIMEJIMA CANT DO IT ALONE. (Also pls feel free to ignore if you don’t like the prompt. Tysm I love your writing and the blind Genya AU kills me in the best way possible)

➳ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: AHHH IM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE MY EXAMS LITERALLY START THIS THURSDAY AND IVE BEEN CRYING BECAUSE OF IT🥹

Himejima was like a father to Genya. His father was an asshole, so having a good role model made Genya adore him so much more.

He loved his mother. His mother was gentle, smiled a lot and despite being weak, she was able to protect.

He didn’t have anyone in his life to replace his mother and he wanted to keep it that way. That is, until Himejima got married.

Genya was beyond happy that Himejima got the chance to fall in love with someone who loved him and who he loved back, but he didn’t know how to approach the new addition to their tiny family of two.

The poor boy’s cheeks would always flare up intensely whenever he saw you. At first, you thought he genuinely liked you which led you to reject him politely during the hashira training one day in front of everyone else.

It was after Genya passed out from embarrassment when Tanjiro told you Genya just got nervous around every girl whether he liked them or not.

Genya was basically your son, so you had a mission to get him to think of you as a mother.

Even though he ignored you at most times, you managed to talk to him even if he didn’t respond. You opened up about everything and told tales of your past.

You ruffled his hair often with a soft smile before you always went up to your husband to kiss his large hand since he was far too tall for you to kiss his cheek.

Genya stayed up late often to train, so you also started staying up to make him little snacks occasionally.

You would call his name and give him a small plate of a few pieces of onigiri and smile when you see his eyes light up as he ate. Your favourite part was occasionally surprising him with another small plate of watermelon cut into adorable shapes.

You really babied him a lot. He was a huge kid, but you couldn’t help it. Genya was like a shy tiger.

The kid occasionally started warming up to you and he started initiating conversations. He could see the way your eyes lit up every time he made effort into your relationship.

You often say together with the three of them, showing them how to make some of your dishes. Himejima would help with the cutting and washing, while you guided Genya with the cooking.

You cried for the first time in years in your husband’s arms after Genya had left for a mission and he had said, “Bye, mom! I’ll be back soon! Please make a lot of food for me when I get back!”

You obeyed your baby’s request. How could you not? You loved seeing the hidden joy in his face whenever you fed him some food directly. Himejima smiled to himself when he heard the laughter his newfound family let out. He was beyond thankful to the gods above that he was alive to experience something so precious.

Genya soon realised that you weren’t his mother. You were never his mother, and you would never be his mother, but he would love you the same. He loved his mother, but he also loved you. His mother taught him how to love because it was all she could teach before she passed, while you helped teach him the rest.

You were there to hold him when he cried in your shoulders on the day his older brother nearly blinded him. You didn’t judge him for eating demons. You didn’t look down at him when he confessed he couldn’t use breathing forms.

You were there for everything. You were there during both Genya’s and Himejima’s sparring sessions, you were there to cook for your family, you were there to listen, you were there to love them. You were even there when Himejima had to leave abruptly to the demon amuse headquarters after an emergency meeting was announced. You were there when you saw Genya fall in the trapdoors on the floor which appeared so suddenly because you didn’t have a good feeling of leaving him alone, making you run up to his training ground to retrieve your son.

You ran as fast as you could when your husband’s kasugai crow led you to where the big battle was happening, only reaching during daybreak.

You felt your heart drop and tears sting your eyes when you saw corpses everywhere, but the sight of your unmoving husband was the only thing you were focused on.

The kakushi had to hold you back even when you screamed at the top of your lungs, yelling at Himejima to open his eyes.

You choked on your tears when you asked about Genya, your son. You knew he was also gone from the silence you received.

You couldn’t even cry anymore. Your eyes just closed before you passed out.

You woke up with a message from Sanemi that Genya had turned into ashes. Your little boy didn’t have a body to bury, meaning he’ll never have a proper funeral.

You folded Genya’s clothes really neatly and placed it in your dead husband’s arms as he laid so beautifully in the casket. You placed your son’s gun on top of his uniform, unable to watch the burial since tears were blurring your vision.

You woke up the next day, wishing you could feel the weight of Genya’s leg over your stomach as he slept in the most atrocious position ever while Himejima’s arms refused to let you go even in sleep one last time.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #genya shinazugawa #gyomei himejima #kny himejima #demon slayer himejima #kimetsu no yaiba genya #demon slayer fluff #kimetsu no yaiba fluff #himejima x reader #genya angst #himejima angst #demon slayer angst #kimetsu no yaiba angst

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lexirosewrites · 1 month ago

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Oh gosh I forgot to send this yesterday so it's OK if this is too late for this week

Part 5 of my kinda sort of beauty & the beast AU

RECAP: steddie were courting before season 4 then A!Eddie "died" in the upside down, vecna is weak, O!Max only has a broken arm & leg & can't see well out of 1 eye now, gates keep opening at seemingly random, Steve gets rejection sickness bc of Eddie's death, Steve finds out he's pregnant, an Eddie shaped creature begins appearing outside Steve's house till one night Steve is stolen from his nest, the right side up crew r freaking out while A!Robin decides to track Steve herself & Steve cuddles the Eddie creature tht he now understands IS Eddie albeit changed

But months before any of that could happen Eddie had to ask Steve out on a date

SEPTEMBER 18th 1985...

The burning of the mall was all over every newspaper & news channel across Indiana & even the country. No one other than the corrupt mayor, their group, & the vague yet menacing government agency tht kept trying to open portals would ever find out it was a Russian base on American soil. The official story was that the mayor looked the other way on cut costs regarding safety regulations related to the electrical system after being bribed by the "company" tht funded the construction of the mall.

Hopper was dead. The Byers moved away w El to California. Murray disappeared into his conspiracy theories in some warehouse. Max moved to the trailer park & began isolating herself. School started & his pups were now in high school.

Steve & Robin managed to get new jobs together at the newly opened Family Video. The Harrington's had come & gone when the novelty of their omega son being a local hero wore off in their eyes. Steve didn't care all tht much. He had the pups, and now he had Robin as his platonic alpha.

He had some of his groove back in the flirting & dating department, but he also wasn't trying very hard to get dates anymore. He didn't want meaningless sex after a mediocre dinner anymore. Steve wanted something real.

The omega just didn't anticipate tht "something real" coming the form of one drug dealing alpha named Eddie Munson. The omega had been by Hellfire a number of times to pick up Dustin whenever Claudia was working late, so the two had exchanged greetings. Then Munson started asking Steve innocent questions & Steve asked them in return. They had short, light, entertaining conversations. Steve had managed to make Munson laugh the previous week when Hellfire went too long and Steve had to all but drag Dustin & Lucas away from the table.

It was a Thursday in September. School would be out for the day soon & Steve was anticipating taking his lunch late in order to pick up Robin. He was sorting through the computer to mark a tape as overdue when the sound of a certain van sped into the parking lot of the little strip mall family video was located. Steve was more than a little shocked to see Robin jump out of Eddie Munson’s van; even more so when Eddie followed her looking more nervous than the omega had ever seen him.

Steve stared at Robin w wide eyes as she made her way to the back to set down her backpack. His platonic alpha quickly detoured to give him a hug before turning to Munson.

"Not a word gets spoken by you till I'm back." Robin said then she made the 'im watching you' gesture & made her way into the back room.

"What's she talking abt?" Steve asked the alpha, but Munson just shook his head looking more than a little scared of whatever consequences Robin likely threatened him with.

Steve hummed, he liked talking w Eddie but it was very funny to see Munson cowed into silence by his best friend. He didnt particularly like how the alpha was standing so rigidly & far away from his place behind the counter though, Steve couldn't smell him. An idea popped into his head.

"Just nod yes or shake ur head no till she gets back!" He offered and the idea got Eddie smiling as he nodded yes. The alpha even stepped closer.

"How's ur day been Munson? Give a speech at lunch today abt conformity & the evils of suburban life?"

Eddie's eyes twinkled as he shook his head no and stepped even closer to Steve. To encourage the alpha closer Steve abandoned the computer and leaned on the counter in a way tht pushed his small omega breasts up into more defined cleavage. He smirked when Eddie's eyes went exactly where he wanted them to.

Steve had told Robin awhile ago abt his attraction to the alpha and how he was sure Eddie was into him too. He just wasn't sure if Eddie wanted Steve for more than a single night. The fact tht he'd come w Robin was a good sign though.

Right before school started the two best friends were tired of Dustin insisting they're meant to b & tired of steve being used for a fun night nothing more, so they'd hatched a simple plan. Steve would give Robin a role considered both antiquated & reserved for parents or family; she'd become his Guard. It meant no one could get a date w him unless Robin vetted the person & their intentions. Dustin had thrown a minor tantrum tht was more abt Steve not choosing him as his Guard rather than the two not getting together.

Eddie showing up at his work with Robin leading the way could only mean that (hopefully) the alpha was abt to ask for a date. Steve would say yes, obviously, but not before letting Robin have her fun.

"You rented tht movie Robin recommended last week, right?" A nod. "did u like it?" An enthusiastic nod yes was the answer and Steve just smiled as Eddie finally stepped up to lean against the counter, close enough for Steve to catch his scent of cedar and roasted cardamom.

"I don't think we've ever gotten to talk abt what movies we each like, a bit ironic since I work here don't u think?" A chuckle and a nod.

"Thanks for bringing Robin to work by the way. I was going to take my lunch in order to pick her up, but now maybe I'll probably get to eat something. I'm pretty hungry, i woke up late & only had time to grab an apple before work." Eddie's eyes lit up and he was dashing out to his van then back inside before Steve could formulate a self depreciating thought. In the alphas out stretched hand was a paper bag emblazoned w the logo of the Burger Chef tht had opened across town in May 1982. Steve's eyes lit up. "Did u get tht for me?"

Eddie was beginning to nod when Robin came out of the back.

"Munson we agreed you weren't gonna offer him tht till afterward!"

"Buckley forgive me! I couldn't just not go get it when Steve said he was hungry!" Eddie pleaded in a burst, the alpha even dropped dramatically to his knees. His Guard remained unimpressed while Steve smiled at his antics.

"Get up and say what you're going to say before I bite ur thumb off." Which was an impressive threat from Robin considering Steve knew she didn't rlly like how sharp her Alpha canines were. She didn't eat most meat either, didn't like the texture. It was the most touching thing Steve had heard her say, and that's counting the time she chewed out Mike for saying tht omegas belong in the home (something the kid had obviously picked up from his parents).

"Birdie do u rlly mean tht? You'd rlly bite off his thumb for me?" Steve asked before Robin enveloped him in another hug, this time scenting him.

"I'd bury him alive up to his neck if u ever cried bc of him my one & only dingus." She reassured her platonic omega.

The other alpha in the store (it was due to the time of day tht the 3 of them were luckily alone for this) cleared his throat to get their attention again & Robin glared at him before rolling her eyes then motioning to Eddie tht he could now say what he wanted to.

"Steve, I know we didn't interact much while u were in school & tht we've only rlly had short conversations while Hellfire meetings packed up, but--" eddie took a deep breath, seemingly to harden his resolve. "But I'd like to get to know u outside of those few fleeting moments. I want to know everything I can abt u & I want to show u tht I am intent on more than a single date or two. So I sought out Buckley and she has graciously given me approval as ur Guard to bring this courtship offer & this first gift of a meal she assured me is ur favorite."

"I'd be happy to accept ur gift and ur offer!" Steve couldn't keep the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach out of his voice.

Eddie Munson smiled wide and presented Steve the bag of food once again.

The omega took his lunch and ate it in the back of Eddie's van. The whole time he ate the alpha asked him questions abt what Steve would like to do as a first date. They decided on take out for dinner from the only Chinese place in Hawkins then taking their food to the tallest hill in Hawkins to star gaze.

[There u have it! The beginning of courtship btwn Steve & Eddie! I don't have a clear timeline for this thing yet but I do know what I want to happen lol I want to let everyone who's enjoyed this thus far know tht I fully intend to edit all of what I've got eventually & make this a full fledged fic, but for now slick sunday is my rough draft proving ground. I might send in part 6 today but I make no promises! A new mobile game has enchanted me & it's got a gacha pull mechanic & an interesting plot & breathtaking graphics & I may or may not have accidentally deleted my banking app in an effort to make space for it😅 ANYWAY HAPPY SLICK SUNDAY!!]

they’re so sweet😭

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks

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crguang · 1 year ago

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RAHHHHHHHHH *ahem*

Fluffy Prompts 54, 44, & 8 w/kafka?

i have another req with #8 for kafka as well so i used the first two! also, im now realizing that this might not be as fluffy as you meant it im sorry hfejbfkf i feel like there are certain things kafka would only say in serious-ish situations

There’s blood on your hands. It stains your skin with a red that makes you uneasy, and you stare at your open palms for what feels like a lifetime; the seconds stretch into years spent immobile and helpless, rooted in a soil where nothing else will ever grow. A veil of near silence covers you and in the dim streetlight, only the unnerving dripping of water can be heard. Drip, drip, drip— each droplet falls in tandem with each beat of your heart and their synchronized melody disorientates you completely. You don’t know where you are, why you are here or what you’re meant to do. You don’t feel the cold despite the fine layer of snow blanketing the deserted street you stand in. You look up at the night sky and see no stars. Your tongue is numb and heavy with a sense of doom that you can’t place and your mouth stays shut in uncertainty.

You look around in search of anything remotely familiar and in your peripheral vision, another streetlight flickers to life. Your steps are measured as you make your way to it like a moth to a flame. It stands in front of a narrow and dark alley that seemingly extends for miles. You can’t see the end of it, and the uncomfortable feeling that looms over you at the thought is amplified by the sight of a shadowed figure slumped against the bricked wall. You hesitate to get closer but your gut forces you forward, one foot after the other, until you’re planted in front of the black mass. It moves, the shape of its head slowly tilting up to meet your horrified eyes, and the breath is sucked out of your lungs at once. Even without a reliable light source, you recognize the soft color gradient of pink and lilac, dulled with the allure of death. The figure reveals itself to you; its shredded over-shoulder coat, ripped shirt, torn high-waisted shorts and distinct custom-made gloves as tainted as your hands slowly unravel under your nose to form what you instantly know is your biggest fear. A steady amount of blood seeps from a wound near the abdomen and stains what is left of the white shirt. Broken sunglasses lay on dirty magenta hair, and you are unable to look away. The figure— Kafka’s— mouth moves, murmuring words you can’t hear as there is only blood and water in your ears. Your eyes, frozen and unblinking, sting with the weight of unshed tears and your chest burns from the lack of oxygen. You don’t register your trembling hands or the world that spins beyond the two of you, you can only stare at Kafka’s dying body in dizzying terror.

A thick layer of sweat clings to your forehead as you awake with a sharp gasp, sitting up on the bed with a hand on your chest to make sure that your inability to breathe was only an effect of the nightmare you woke up from. Your breathing is heavy and labored, warm tears wet your cheeks with every quick blink of your eyes adjusting to the darkness of your bedroom and you sit there for long minutes just regaining your bearings. The glowing numbers of your digital clocks show that it’s only a little past midnight. Panic lingers in your tense muscles and your shaky fingers desperately reach for the phone atop your nightstand. The light hurts your eyes but your hazy mind can’t focus on the feeling, you fumble with unlocking it and opening your contacts, scrolling down the list of names until you find the one you’re looking for.

A shuddering breath parts your lips, weak sniffles occasionally escape you, and the line rings and rings before the call goes to an automated voicemail. A pitiful sound leaves you. You redial. If you had all of your senses, you would have recalled that you had not heard from Kafka in almost three weeks. She does this sometimes, she disappears for weeks at a time due to the high stakes and stealthy missions she’s given. Depending on the risk, she can’t afford communications with you. Every so often, she tells you how long she’ll be away so you don’t miss her too much— her words. However, you presently cannot think straight, still haunted by the gory sight of her injuries. The call goes to voicemail. You redial. Voicemail. Redial. You start picturing the worst, the same constricting feeling of fear from earlier curling around your limbs until your knees are to your chest and your ragged breathing makes no sense to your ears.

The line rings and your tears dampen your collar. After the third ring, someone picks up.

“What’s wrong?”

You hear commotion on the other end but the sound of Kafka’s raspy voice brings you relief so intense your whole body shakes with your next exhale. No doubt your labored breaths can be heard through the phone, and there’s a pause amidst some distant, unintelligible shouting.

“What happened?” Your eyes shut as you concentrate on the way Kafka’s words soften a touch.

“When… When can you be back?” Your voice sounds weak and pleading, quiet in contrast to the racket of the other line.

“I’m a little busy. Why?”

You don’t know how to explain your state of mind. Your brain needs to perceive her in front of you, in the flesh, to appease its morbid concerns and fully register the fact that she is alive.

You sniffle. “I need to see you.”

More muffled shouting, an insistent alarm going off in the background, and Kafka’s annoyed sigh. You think she’s irritated by your demand but, like her previous ones, her next sentence is underlined with concern.

“I’m wrapping something up, right now. I can be there tomorrow.”

You feel fresh tears well up in your eyes at the idea of waiting half a day to have her near. You try to steady your breathing and fail. You’re crying softly into the phone, now.

“No… Please come home, this doesn’t feel right…”

There’s another pause, and then, multiple gunshots ring out in succession. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, the noise worsening the rising panic in your chest. You don’t want to think about what she’s doing and the chaos happening around her, anxiety nips at you with each bullet being fired because it reminds you of the dangerous life she lives and that your worries are not entirely unfounded. The shots keep coming until the shouting dies down to complete silence. It seems the blaring alarm has also been dealt with during the ruckus; you can’t hear a thing save for what Kafka says next.

“It’ll take three hours. Sit tight, alright?” Her tone lifts at the end, meant to be reassuring in her own subtle way.

You nod even though she can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Bye, bye~!”

Kafka ends the call. You inhale slowly and find that breathing comes a little easier.

By the time the second hour passes by, you can barely bear the weight of your eyelids, but sleeping isn’t an option. Your mind is still restless and you dread the possibility of your nightmare coming back, so you distract yourself by playing games on your phone. You check the time regularly, anxiously, and when the clock announces exactly three hours after your call, two firm knocks resonate through your apartment. You practically jump to your feet to open the front door.

Kafka stand on the other side with her usual, easygoing smile. It widens an inch as she sees you and it takes everything you have not to throw yourself at her immediately. A quiver runs through your hands. You step aside to let her in, fiddling with the handle, and quickly close the door behind her.

“So, what was— Oof!”

Her sentence is cut off by your arm around her waist pulling her flushed against you. Your nose burrow into the crook of her neck, amidst her soft strands of hair, and you embrace her tightly to convince your brain that she’s here, alive and with you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on her skin as her steady heart beats against yours and gently encourages your pulse to follow her lead. Kafka brings a hand up to pat your back somewhat hesitantly, then eases into the hug enough to rub along your spine when you don’t let her go. You both stand in the entrance of your apartment for some time, the soothing sound of your heater in the background. The remnants of fear your nightmare left you with are squashed by Kafka’s arm around you and her body pressed to yours.

“...Better?” Kafka speaks up after a while, voice soft in the quiet of the room.

You reluctantly loosen your hold on her and lean back slightly. Her bare fingers rest under your chin and tilt it upwards so you can meet her eyes. There’s a hint of concern in them that she lets you see despite the small smile on her lips.

“Are you going to tell me what this was about? Or do I have to guess?” Her playful words mean to ease any lingering trace of turmoil.

Now that you’ve fully calmed down, you start to feel the effects of your interrupted sleep. You blink slowly to keep your eyes open a bit longer.

“Can we lay down first?” You ask quietly, rubbing your eye withh one hand while the other searches Kafka’s limp one at her side.

She looks at you for a few seconds, thinking thoughts you’re not privy to, before replying, “Of course.”

You lead her to your bedroom and prompt her to lie on the bed, uncaring of having her outside clothes on your clean sheets. Kafka settles against the pillows and you follow suit, half of your weight on her as an arm snakes around her waist to keep her pressed to you. In the dim yellow light, with your face on her chest, you notice some blood spatter on her shirt. The sight brings you back to the tattered clothes soaked in her blood that you dreamed of a few hours prior. You close your eyes, willing the mental image to fade away. Kafka’s fingers brush the back of your neck and trail down your spine in repeated motions. You’re much more relaxed in her embrace and can talk about what happened without being gripped by emotion.

“...I had a nightmare that you were dying in an alley,” saying the words out loud makes you feel ridiculous in hindsight, but she shows no sign of amusement or mockery. “It felt real. And I had no idea what you were up to these past weeks, so I… It felt real.”

Kafka doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder what she could be thinking about. Her touch doesn’t falter on your back, the only indication that she heard you at all. Exhaustion creeps up on you, but you’re getting a little nervous at her lack of response. You feel the need to explain yourself further.

“Sorry if I pulled you from something important… All I could think about was your— your body laying there, bloody and alone, and I got so scared because your work is dangerous and I never have any way of knowing if you’re okay until you come back. I wasn’t thinking straight, I thought—”

“Don’t think about anything. Just tell me that you love me and hold me tighter.”

The rest of your excuses die in your throat. She pulls you impossibly closer and you mutter low confessions into her chest until your speech slows and sleep claims you completely. Kafka holds you through the night, fingers playing with the hairs on the back of your neck, staring at the still shadows on your bedroom ceiling. She doesn’t tell you that no one has ever worried about her death before and that it’s a strange feeling to know that this primal instinct to fear finality is born out of your genuine love for her. She sits in that thought for hours. When the sun begins its ascension in the sky and her consciousness is starting to slip, her lips brush the top of your head as she murmurs her own well-kept love confession.

#sat’s follower event #kafka x reader #hsr kafka

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pinkberrypocky · 1 year ago

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pmmm rewatch live notes: ep 1

ive been rewatching pmmm w my friends who haven't seen it before and have decided that i am incapable of being normal abt it so uhhh.... gonna dump the notes i took during ep 1 here. they are entirely incomprehensible ramblings of a madman but the goal is to synthesize some actual analysis once im done w the watch through. im convinced there is significant color symbolism related to the colors of the holy quintet but idk the exact symbolism for each color so there's a good amount of notes of just instances of those colors that i think could help me pin down the symbolism later on so there's that too a gift for u (or i guess a hurdle if u don't care abt color symbolism but honestly if u don't care abt color symbolism i don't understand u). idk i thought it might be silly for like maybe 1 other guy out there. also my friends bullied me into it (read: hyped me up about it until i relented)

ok buckle in folks this is solidly two pages on google docs

first scene happens bc madoka remembers it from another timeline

spiraling time is it the future or the past does it even matter

brightest thing in intro is her hair ribbons bc they are what links madoka and homura across time and space

everything else is desaturated

god madoka w her in the intro bc god madoka saves and treats all the magical girls like that when she saves them from their witch future

hard to tell what the world is like bc does it even matter

no matter what the setting is homura will fail to save madoka and madoka will sacrifice herself

also adds to the eerie effect

madoka’s mom tells her to use the red ribbon

madoka never chose her fate for herself, she’s always doing what others want and what she thinks is best for others

the scenery has a weird juxtaposition of greenery and industrial things which mirrors the juxtaposition of the magical girl stereotype and the psychological horror reality

the classrooms are like bird cages

homura walks in like she’s not seeing everyone and not really there bc she’s living in the past which is also the future

THE ANGLE WHEN HOMURA FIRST TALKS TO MADOKA

like idk what that loom w the dramatic lighting means but it means Something

the way homura doesn’t hide that she knows the way to the nurses office shows that she’s getting desperate and tired of this cycle

insisting that madoka call her homura even though they “just met” shows how important their relationship is and how much she yearns for their old dynamic

when she confronts madoka in the hall she shows emotion for the first time showing how much she cares about this

it seems cruel but in reality she is grasping at straws to protect madoka

she doesn’t care if she has to be seen as cold as long as madoka is safe

homura knows the math so well bc it’s the same every single fucking time

the symbolism of kyubey with the spikey evil statue that’s all rusty and the shadow where it merges w him

when madoka reveals she has seen homura in a dream and they brush it off bc haha we’re just middle schoolers this is a magical girl anime nothing weird would happen

red in the scene where homura tries to kill kyubey… kyoko’s color… what does red represent in this show?

kyubey reaches out to madoka asking to be saved bc he knows that’s her weak spot , that she will always jump into danger to save other regardless of her own well being

when homura appears trying to kill kyubey there are chains what could this represent

chained to her cycle, chained to kyubey, chained to madoka

they form the shape of a cross bc homura is jesus, she takes the brunt of the harm and the blame in an effort to save the others

use of collage in the witch labyrinths is disorienting and jarring it doesn’t fit and it’s confusing and creepy and unsettling

language is similar to german at times maybe a reference to historical german witches

sayaka protects madoka in a hug like embrace when they first end up in the labyrinth symbolizing the way she is to the end a protector

mami makes sure to act unbothered and not scared when she meets them to keep her persona of a magical girl who saves ppl despite the horrors of the reality

the fact that mami uses guns alludes to the horror of magical girls hidden just beneath the surface

the use of the word contract also shows the severity and adult nature of what they are about to embark on

#puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #madohomu #madoka magica #holy quintet #madoka kaname #homura akemi #mahou shoujo madoka magica #i deserve an award for typing out all those notes on my phone #my friends were so bamboozled by the amount of notes i got out of 20 minutes of content and it has given me a tiny bit of a god complex #the chains forming the cross has literally altered my brain chemistry. homura as jesus analysis is Cooking prepare yourself #pls be nice to me posting is scary and i don't know what im doing #but hi if ur reading this and like pmmm we should be friends

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bluegekk0 · 1 year ago

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how alive is grimm's cloak? does it mostly just react to basic emotions or is it like intelligent? could like someone talk to it and it respond? could it also fuss or take nightmare essence??? im curious haha

I go into some detail about this in this post, but basically it's an extension of Grimm's consciousness, the same way his physical body is, though much less developed.

To explain a bit: the being known as Grimm has two main forms. The first one is the form in the Nightmare Realm, which is his birth form, known as The Nightmare, and later as The Nightmare King. The second one is his physical form, known as Troupe Master Grimm, and it's the form he creates from Nightmare Essence to walk in the physical world (the ritual is him replacing the body, as The Nightmare Heart, which is basically where his power is stored, is too weak to create a permanent physical form). The cloak is like an extension of the second form, the physical body, but it can move independently whenever he's not around, so it's almost like a third form.

It's replaced during every ritual just like the physical form, but it's not as developed as it. It can respond to Grimm's emotions, though if he's feeling conflicted, it may behave unpredictably. It shares his memories and knowledge, and so responds accordingly to those around him - it's gentle with his loved ones, and visibly "irritated" around his enemies. It can't speak, but it does seem to listen to spoken words. As an example, as you can see in the drawing in the link I posted, FPK can ask it to hold something for him, and in general it seems very drawn to him, curling and reaching towards him, very clearly sharing Grimm's affection for him.

As for its interactions with Grimm, since they're connected on a subconscious level, he can control it freely. It can form into tendrils, spikes and even limb-like shapes. It's very clearly not of natural origins, since it can harden and soften unlike anything in their world. It's strong enough to lift up Grimm, but whenever it's in a relaxed form, it acts basically like a regular cloak. Grimm can use it as extra limbs to hold something (with his fondness for tea, it comes in very handy - it can hold the cup of tea while he's working, freeing his hands), but also as weapons and a shield. The cloak instinctively protects him and those around him, it can form into spikes or claw-like shapes, and it's able to expand to a very impressive length, giving him quite a range of attack.

Aside from that, it usually just functions as a piece of clothing, he can wear it or take it off and hang it on the wall, and aside from slightly moving on its own, it wouldn't make a fuss about it. Though if he can't reach it for whatever reason, he can "command" it to get off the wall and move towards him, which would be quite a strange sight hahah

I think that's all I can think of. Generally, it's quite a lot like the Cloak of Levitation from the Doctor Strange movie, though lacking the ability to fly (instead compensating for it with other traits). It's very fun to imagine it in different scenarios, especially combat related ones - if I knew how to animate, I would love to create some battle animations with it, there's so much potential for exciting visuals.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #save #grimm

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j00stkl31n · 1 year ago

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IM SORRY BUT HAIR ON MEN LIKE BODY HAIR IS THE SEXIEST THING THAT CAN EXIT, like is just so manly and sexy😍😍😍 and happy trails damn…

No I whole heartedly agree now X333 I’ve always loved happy trails but like the weak ass ones that skinny emo boys have X33

But gods his chest hair and happy trail drive me insane.

I know this is about joost mostly but I gotta scream for a second

AGGUS FUCKING BODY HAIR IS SO HOT AND HES SO GORGEOUS AND EVERY FUCKING TIME HE POSTS ANYTHING I FREAK OUT CUZ HES SO FUCKING FINE WTAF!!!!!!!!!!!!! HIS TITS ARE IMPECCABLE AND THE HAIR ON THEM ONLY MAKES THEM BETTER FUCK MEEEEEEEEE

Okay yelling over, my entire sexuality and view on things about bodies (specifically men’s bodies as someone who used to identify as mostly a lesbian for years) has been FUCKED by these two and I am not bothered in any way shape or form. Just confirms for me that ima fluid lil bitch and that people are just hot and that’s okay

#een anon #joost ask #my type in men used to be like dan and Phil lmaooooooo #so it’s changed quite a bit #maybe not the European part but everything else X3

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kiriiqt · 3 years ago

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In the meantime with the Diluc fic, would you happen to have any spare Scara headcanons?

SPOILER WARNING FOR 3.2

Like how he reacts to seeing reader taking care of him when he wakes up after losing the gnosis? That was a LONG fall and it looked like he landed on his head, so he was probably knocked unconscious. (RIP his hat) Or tbh any general hc's you have for him if this is too specific! Thank you so much for sharing your hard work with us!

taking care of scaramouche after his fall

- scaramouche is surprised to wake up in one piece, but he's even more surprised to see you there taking care of him.

characters: scaramouche x reader a/n: thank you so much for requesting! and no worries about being too specific, it actually helps me out. fun fact; scary is one of my favorite characters so I have a lot of spare headcanons about him. as always, feel free to request again if I misunderstood anything. also, this dragged out im so sorry. warnings: kinda angsty, descriptions of illness, sleep paralysis, an attempt at slow buildup of a relationship. some beta, we cling on like signora simps do.

I kept it vague as to what you and Scaramouche were before the Sumeru Arc, but you two did know each other, and you were working against him somehow.

Scaramouche spends a long time out of it. He’s not exactly had an easy life, and artificial god-form or not, the gnosis probably did a number on his body and mind - especially when it was taken away. Even with Nahida’s care, his body is incredibly weak, and he’s being plagued by nightmares and horrible memories. He’s essentially as weak and defenseless as a newborn child, and when he finally wakes up, he has to come to terms with the fact that he needs to start over. Again.

You and Scaramouche don't acknowledge each other for a while; His pride has taken a serious beating, and part of him refuses to believe that you're willingly taking care of him. He's sure it's a ploy of sorts, to put him in debt to you, one he couldn't possibly pay off - not that he's planning to. Meanwhile, you're twisting your own thoughts; truthfully, you pity him, but the constant reminder of what he's done in his lifetime - puppet or not - is washing over you like an incoming storm, and not even Nahida's words can alleviate that form of guilt.

You two get into a routine; you make sure he eats, drinks and sleeps, you put him through the rehabilitation program Nahida made, and you keep quiet every morning when his eyes are red and face is swollen from crying. You don't call out his poor excuses, and you don't ask for anything in return for your care. Scaramouche doesn't thank you anyway - at best he scoffs at you, glaring as if you were the one to take his gnosis. Most of the time, he's zoned out - pretending you're not there at all.

A few weeks pass by, and he's finally capable of walking by himself again - his mood seems better, and he's not on the verge of passing out just from crossing the room anymore. He's been outside again, although only on the balcony, but it's improvement, and he thinks so as well. You don't mention it, but it's obvious in the way his lips curl, and the way his eyes light up when the wind brushes past him. It makes a small smile break through your own frown. Still, recovery can be cruel with its ups and downs - and the world wouldn't let you forget that.

It takes a flare up - a bad one - for Scaramouche to finally acknowledge you. Waking up, he's thrown from one nightmare into another, his limbs paralyzed and eyes wide open, hot, searing pain pierces through him like hellfire, and for a second he thinks he's dying. He wants to scream, he needs to, but his throat feels raw and he can't move. His stomach churns at the sight of the world around him distorting, comforting green color bleeding into hues of red and purple; shapes breaking free from the chaos, faces he can recognize, voices he can recognize, pounding on his head like thunder strikes. And then - it stops.

You're gently shaking him awake, placing a cold cloth on his head and explaining something about another fever, but your words barely reach him. Your voice does, though; and while his head still feels as if it's being pounded against a wall, body engulfed in pain, you somehow pulled him out of that waking nightmare. And by the Archons, has he never been more fucking grateful to you in his life.

Still, he can't do anything; the pain overwhelms his senses, and closing his eyes feels like falling into a dark pit, spinning rapidly, and nausea washes over him again. He's not sure how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity - until, eventually, the pain stops.

Four days, you tell him. The flare up lasted four days; a high fever, but he's experienced it before. Part of him is thankful for not remembering it. You then tell him that it wasn't his first time experiencing sleep paralysis, either; and he wonders just how many times you've seen him like this. You shake your head when asked, another frown on your face. He decides not to pry.

You turn to leave, conversation seemingly over, but stop briefly when he utters a meek "Thanks". So quiet you could miss it, and part of him honestly hopes you did. He doesn't get a reply - but you leave with a small smile on your face.

From then on, things seem to improve between the two of you. It starts awkwardly. Scaramouche, or, Wanderer, as he asks you to call him for the time being, isn’t one to open up, and you’re not too keen on the idea of rambling about your days, when most of them are spent taking care of him or helping the traveler, with very little time left for yourself. Still, you manage to chat somehow - going from smalltalk, to Cyno’s bad jokes, to icebreakers that Nahida suggests - until eventually, conversation flows naturally between the two of you. You begin to bring him out of the sanctuary - in disguise, of course - and on those walks that get longer and longer the better he feels, there is little to do but chat about your lives. You get to experience what he’s like normally, and although he acts like a little shit, it’s nice to see him look a little more alive than he did before.

Nahida still has him under strict supervision, but as long as you’re with him, he’s fine to go out. Well, it could be anyone, really, but Dehya and him are at eachothers throats within minutes, Nilou simply refuses to be near him, and he’s told both Al Haitham and Cyno to go suck it one too many times (and that's among the nicer things he’s said to them). So, he always ends up with you, and you pretend to ignore the self-satisfied smirk that's on his face anytime someone comes dragging him your way. You also pretend to ignore the laugh Nahida is holding back at his antics.

Wanderer becomes a constant presence in your life; always bugging you to give him attention, to do something with him, and most of the time, it ends up with you dragging him off before he accidentally breaks the law (or insults Al Haitham��again). Though, you notice that he’s oddly nice to children and the elderly - not above helping either out, and one time you even saw him playing peek-a-boo with a kid while waiting for you. It made you smile, but you didn’t miss how quiet he got when the mother laughed and picked up the girl, telling her to bid him farewell. The same evening, he wordlessly hugs you, and tells you about his own mother. For a few hours, you two sit together, hidden away from the world for a while.

He’s quickly back to normal, but you somehow feel that you’ve gotten closer. It shows in the way his gaze softens when looking at you, and how his hand occasionally finds yours when no one is looking. You see it in Nahida’s knowing smile, and in how Dehya rolls her eyes, but sends a wink your way when Wanderer looks away. He’s become more protective as well, you notice, as he’s quick to step in to defend you in even the smallest of scuffles. You can’t resist teasing him about it sometimes, and the blush on his face when he tries to deny it with his entire being is one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

Over time, he’s made himself home in your accommodations, and your heart, and while dealing with his antics and taking care of him is difficult, you’d be lying if you said that you wanted him out. You don’t mind holding him through the occasional flare ups, or picking him up on days when he’s so weak that he collapses, and you make sure to tell him this when he seems to doubt it.

One day, it’s suspiciously quiet in your house, and for a second you’re afraid that he’s run off; but relief washes over you when you see him sitting by your desk, looking at something in his hand. You approach him, and glance over his shoulder to see…a vision. A shining, green gemstone, with an anemo symbol in the middle - somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall Venti’s laugh, and think back on the day on the balcony when Wanderer finally managed to walk that far. How the wind immediately picked up, as if to welcome him back. He’s inspecting it, lost in thought, as his eyes glide over the symbol, and the gold casing around it - the decoration that indicates where the wielder is from. His gaze seems to get stuck on it - teeth worrying at his bottom lip, and you glance down, concerned about what it could mean for him. But, to your relief, the gold isn’t shaped in the style of an Inazuman vision, or a Snezhnayan one; it resembles a leaf, or a teardrop; the one that so many of your friends from Sumeru carry. He snaps out of his daze when you place a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him; and his expression softens with a sigh.

“I wonder… is this just another way of tying me to a God?”

His voice comes out meek, and you exhale slowly, choosing your next words carefully.

“...How much do you know of the Anemo Archon?”

“Tsk, just that he’s a lazy Archon who practically abandoned his people under the guise of freedom.”

Both of you pause, with you deep in thought, and him glaring at the vision in front of him.

“Well, we could argue all day if it’s abandonment or freedom - but from what I know, he cares about his people, and if anyones really in need, he does interfere. He doesn’t just leave all to suffer”.

Wanderer scoffs, throwing a glare your way. Still, he doesn’t speak for a while, so your words did get to him, you figure. You lean against the wall next to the desk, crossing your arms, gaze falling on the faintly pulsating vision.

Wanderer breaks the silence again. “What does freedom really mean though, when demanded of you by a God?”

Those words sounds familiar, you realize, as you ponder his question. You glance out the window, humming, while he looks at you expectantly. His eyebrows knit together in an offended look when a small smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and he opens his mouth to spew an insult, but you interrupt him.

“I think this means that the ball is in your court. You can take it, use the new power granted to you, and start anew, if you’re ready…” Pushing yourself off the wall, you pick up the vision and turn it in your hand “...or, you can leave it. Entirely behind, or just on the shelf, for another day.”

He looks up at you again, as you slide the vision into his hand with a smile.

“But, I think that the fact that it’s here is enough of a sign already. So what will it be, Wanderer?”

#fics #idk how I feel about this but I hope you guys like it #there was an attempt at character development here #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin oneshot #genshin headcanons #scaramouche oneshot

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barnes-n-nobles · 3 years ago

Text

Hell or Heaven (NONCON SMUT)

Listen IVE BEEN SO MIA but im back from my much needed break and im ready to start writing for you naughty naughty friends!

Please reblog, like, and let me know what you think!

Warnings: very noncon smut, mentally unstable Marc,, talks about killing, brief Steve in the beginning, overall very noncon stuff you know the drill :))))))) also not proofread

18+ !!!! If you “keep reading” you are acknowledging that you are 18+ and that you have read the warnings.

Please Do not translate, no permission to repost any of my writing on any other platform, and do not copy this and claim it as your own.

Steve tried his best to stay awake, most people adored their sleep but not him. He dreaded it. He hated to wake up feeling worse than the night before, feeling confused, disoriented, and in pain was the worst way to start his morning. But his dreams, lord, his dreams were petrifying. They always felt so real, sinister in every way, shape, and form. As he tried to stop his mind from slipping away, his exhaustion got the best of him, dozing off into his mind.

When his eyes opened, he was in a completely different room. The room was beautifully decorated, a huge 4 corner poster canopy bed with burgundy curtains took up most of the room, but the high ceiling coupled with long curtains made it feel spacious. He was so confused as to what the hell he was doing here in the first place, but then he heard some people talking. He approached another door that was tucked in the corner, walking slowly. When he got closer, he heard people fighting, it seemed to be a woman and man, but one of them sounded familiar. When he opened the door, he felt his body turning into stone. A man was bent over the bathtub…stabbing the woman, repeatedly. He called out to the stranger, telling him to stop but the man wouldn’t listen. Instead he laughed, doing it faster as the poor girls blood spilled from her wrists, down her hand, and droplets hit the floor from her fingers. When Steven approached the man, he yanked him off of, making the man fall back. Steven looked at her lifeless body bleeding in the tub. It was a horrendous site, but the most frightening thing of all, was that the guy that did it, was himself. Steven woke up, screaming and panting. “Nononono NO!” he cried. It took him a minute to realize that it was just a dream, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Looking at the time it was almost 5am. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling incredibly hot. He was so confused as to what the hell he had just dreamt. Why would he even dream that? He didn’t even recognize the girl, and he certainly wasn’t a killer.

Steve got up to open a window, letting the cool air in. Looking down at his ankle, his restraint was no longer there, it had been snapped off, but there were no foot prints on the sand. Very odd, he thought. As he got to bed again, he decided to read a book, picking up a new novel his coworker suggested. Grabbing his glasses he started to read. A couple pages in and he was already fed up with it, this was a romance novel, his least favorite genre. Tossing the thing away, he laid back down and just stared at the ceiling, hoping the time would go by fast. That’s when he heard an odd noise that was coming from underneath. It was a tapping sound, weak yet incessant. He thought maybe the neighbors were being annoying but he’s never heard it before. Steve got out of bed and placed his ear on the floor, trying to hear anything else. The sound was increased and he noticed a pattern in it.

“Hello? Are you okay?” He spoke, making the thudding speed up. “If you can hear me, knock two times”

*knock knock*

“do you need help? Knock 3 times if so”

*knock knock knock*

“Shit..hold on let me get down there, one minute”

As he got outside, he ran toward the elevator going one floor down. He tried to figure out who exactly was under him and when he got to the door, he knocked on the door, and that’s when he heard some whimpers, “help” it was so faint, he almost couldn’t hear anything. “Bloody hell, how am I going to get in” he said to himself. The only thing he could think of was breaking the door. He backed up a couple steps and lunged into it, swinging it open. He quickly closed it in order to not get into trouble himself.

When he walked in, his heart started beating a little faster as he saw you chained up to a radiator heater, gagged and bound at the hands and feet. “Oh my god, are you okay?” As he approached you, you backed away from him, your ankle bracelets ratting with every move. “STOP GET AWAY FROM ME, JUST LET ME GO, DONT HURT ME ANYMORE PLEASE” you cried, not being able to fully speak. Steven was very confused, not knowing what to say, “I’m sorry, I think you’ve gotten me mistaken…don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you. May I approach you? You look very unwell and we need to get you out of those chains and to the police” he rushed pulling your gag off and tearing your duck taped hands.

“Why are you doing this to me? Please don’t play with my emotions. Just let me go and I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Darling, what are you going on about. just let me help you” he asked reaching out for you.

You started to hyperventilate, getting ready for the impact of his hand on your face…but it never came. He was trying to release your ankles, but he noticed there was a lock to it.

“I don’t suppose you know where the keys are?”

This person was not Marc. He looked and sounded completely different but…it WAS him, physically.

“Look love, I need you to concentrate. It’s a bit dark in here but I promise I’ll look everywhere, I just need a hint or something if you’ve been the person place it somewhere around here”

“You have them”

“Im sorry?” Steven questioned looking at you like you were crazy.

“You always have them. You always place them in your pockets”

Steven was starting to get scared, why was all this happening, his brain couldn’t even process it all the way. When he reached into his pockets…the keys were in there. He dropped them and backed away.

“Please tell me I didn’t do this. Oh my god what the fuck did I do. Am I being punked?” As he started to spiral you tried to bring them close to you without him noticing. You also didn’t know what was happening but you were way too focused on trying to get out of here. He was clearly mentally ill but you mattered more in this moment. As your arms reached for it, he looked at you, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on but I think I-” he stopped mid sentence and he looked like he was about to faint but he bowed his head down, jerking it up and down with his eyes rolling back. You grabbed the keys and shoved them in the lock, turning it, you were finally free. You kicked the restrains away from you, tearing the duck tape that was around your knees. Standing up again was a bit foreign since you hadn’t done it in a while but you tried your best to get to the door, but before you reached the door knob, you were yanked back by your hair.

“Where do you think youre going, kitten” the all too familiar voice called out to you, making your eyes go wide in fear. He pushed you back away from the door making you stumble over your feet and hitting the floor. Marc quickly paced toward you, making you back away and putting your hands up, “please just let me go. I don’t want to be here”. Marc grabbed you and pinned you against the wall by your neck. “Shut the fuck up, and stop crying I haven’t done anything yet. Was I not clear when I told you that you were never going to leave if you tried to escape? Hm? You’re staying right here with me, you understand?” he said between his teeth, slowly increasing his grip until you couldn’t breathe. You nodded your head quickly, making Marc smirk in approval. Letting go of your neck, he stepped away from you but caught you as your legs gave out. Marc took you over to the his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, quickly climbing over you as he ran his hand from your face down to your neck, “you know y/n, I have you here for your own safety. I have a lot of enemies and they all would come after you if they saw you. This is where you belong sweetheart, with me” he whispered kissing your tears away. “Marc, I’m in pain because of you. You hurt me. You ruined my life, taking away all my good friends and family. The person I should have been protected from…is you”

Marc looked at you in awe, he was clearly offended making you regret what you had said, “What did you just say?”

In that moment you got a burst of adrenaline, you knew you were going to get punished for speaking to him that way, so you might as well push him to the extreme. After all, it’s not like he would kill you.

“You heard me, bitch. I should have never given you the time of day, all the time I wasted on you was a mistake. I never loved you and I never will. You are the biggest mistake of my life, I hate you Marc”. His face went blank, he was in total shock from what you said. Feeling relieved, you thought that he would definitely stop with this obsession, hoping that he would finally come to his senses and stop this horrible nightmare. “Y-you don’t mean that. I know you don’t mean that” he cried, “I do mean it. You’re pathetic, if you think I’ll ever love a monster like you. You did this and this is YOUR fault.” Marc couldn’t bare listening to you, so he back handed you. “SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up” he ordered, grabbing your hands and pinning them besides your head. “That was just a warning, the next one will knock you out. If you ever speak to me like that again, I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you. Your life belongs to me, I am in total control of it.”

“Marc…Kill me. I don’t want to live in this hell with you. Just fucking do it” you pushed.

Marc burst into an ominous laughter, “oh kitten, if you think that you’re living in a hell with me now, then I will make sure you feel it and burn eternally here with me”

He kissed you feverishly, enjoying the challenge as you tried to turn away. This was just a way to distract you because once you heard the handcuffs snap around your wrists you stopped. “Let me go. I don’t want this” you warned, pulling at the cuffs, trying to get them off, “you know I always marveled seeing how strong your mind is. It always knows how to think logically and how to not let your subconscious make you weak. It’s one of the thing I love about you” he spoke, getting up from bed and going into the closet. Marc grabbed a hard briefcase, snapping the locks open, revealing a bunch of drugs and needles. He brought it into the room and onto the nightstand. Seeing what was inside you started to freak out, trying to pull away from the cuffs, only making it raw against your skin.

“Please don’t” you begged, looking at his place his finger over his lips, gesturing you to be quiet. He went back to rummaging through the case, picking out a few vials “It is rumored that a strong mind is always hard to break. Of course I’m not speaking out of experience, I’m fucking mental, but we’re going to put that to the test. Youre going fall in love with me y/n, wether it’s the last thing I do.” He picked up a syringe and took a few milliliters from a few vials, pushing up the fluid to get the air out. As he approached you? You felt your heart race, trying to move away from him, “Now now kitten, don’t be afraid, it’s not lethal. Come here.” He motioned for you, as he got on the bed. Marc grabbed your leg and yanked you towards him, making you freeze, “The fastest way to a woman’s heart is through her pussy and if it’s not, then it will be…. for you.” he quickly stabbed the needle into your neck, injecting the liquid into your system. You screamed in pain, watching him take it out and throw it across the room. “It’ll take a few seconds for you to feel it but when you do, honey it’s going to be unbearable” he smirked giving you a hard kiss. You tried to fight him but you soon started melting into the kiss, his body against yours didn’t feel revolting as it usually did, this time it felt good”. As he continued to make out with you, he ran his hands over your breast, feeling your nipple start to harden under his touch.

Your moans were swallowed by his lips, his knee rubbed against your clit making you hiss. You felt feral, wanting to be fucked senseless by him. “What did you do to m-me” you grunted, trying to get more friction between your legs. Marc got up from you, making you whimper. He was clearly hard, you could see the outline of his hard dick in his pants, “I drugged you. You’re going to be feeling an unbearable feeling of arousal and you won’t be able to pleasure yourself. I’m not going to help you either. You’re going to lay here and crave me for a long long time, but I won’t be here to play with you. That’ll teach you some manners” he grabbed another gag and placed it over your mouth before grabbing his case and walking outside of the room, locking the door.

You shook in agony as the pain got worse and worse. Your whole body was burning, jolting your hips up in desperation. Screaming against the gag was dreadful, no one could hear you but Marc. He was in the living room, looking at you through his bedroom secret camera. You looked delectable, whimpering and crying out for him was music to his ears. He was a bit of a sadist, enjoying how you broke down for him. His mind went on to thinking about your delicious lips around his cock, your tear filled eyes, your soft voice calling out for him to stop, but it made him want you that much more. Marc pulled out his dick, giving it a few strokes, while he looked for some videos of him fucking you. There was a night where he took you while you slept, his cock dripped with precum just thinking about how sexy you were moaning half asleep.

As he got to the video he laid back and started to jerk himself off, his dark eyes watching how he defiled you, “fuck” he muttered, pumping himself faster. He edged himself a couple times before cumming, what made him bust was the scene of you moaning his name out in the video. He fucking loved hearing his name coming from your mouth. It was pure ecstasy. He spilled himself all over, shooting his white ribbons all over his legs and hands. As he finished off, he switched back to the live feed, looking at your poor body go through the most excruciating pain. When he opened the door to see you, you nearly screamed in excitement. “Princess, look at the mess that you’re making” he teased, running his finger over the sheet under you. You were so wet that it started to trickle down onto the sheets. “P-plea-se” you begged, crying in frustration. Marc slid his finger in between your folds, making you squeal in relief, but it made you want more. “I can see you’re in pain kitten, do you want Daddy help you out?” He pulled the gag out and waited for you to say the words.

This is what he wanted. He couldn’t break you by torturing you and abusing you so tried this. Your body was up in flames and with every single stroke of his fingers you were in heaven. You didn’t want to give into him, but he was the only one that could take this pain away. “Is my girl there? I asked you a question” Marc cooed, rubbing your nipple over your thin tank top. “I need you…” you whispered, shaking uncontrollably. “Say it again kitten”

“I need you, please” you whined.

“I’d like for you to address me how I taught you”

“Daddyy….please, it hurts” you sobbed, but not because of the pain, it was due to embarrassment. You wanted him to fuck you raw, in the most ungodly ways, just to get this sexual frustration out.

“I’ll think about it sweetheart” he smiled giving you a nice kiss before heading towards the door.

“MARC PLEASE FUCK ME! I cant take this anymore I promise I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll never disobey you, just please…please help me” the desperation in your words was fascinating to him. He loved this way too much, so much so that he turned on his heels and started to get undressed. “You’ve earned it kitten, but I won’t take it easy on you. You’ve been a very bad kitty” he uttered.

Marc spread your legs open and climbed over you, rubbing his hard dick in between your folds. His hips bucked into you, rubbing himself on your clit making you moan. He adjusted it so that he rub his entire length through you. “fuckk” you uttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you heart pounded with desire. Marc grabbed your face and shook it, “look at me as I fuck you” he growled through gritted teeth. Opening your eyes, you were met with his dark, almost black, eyes. His wavy hair was sticking to his forehead, just a beautiful sight. Whilst you were lusting for him, he shoved his dick inside you with out warning, making your eyes grow wide, mouth in the shape of an O, gasping for air. Marc bit his lip, looking at you react to him slipping inside you looked like a scene straight out of porn. His hips started moving, taking his length almost all the way out and then sinking deeply inside of you.

“fuck, your pussy feels soo fucking good kitten....never disappoints” his words just made you loose your shit, moaning, “mmm Daddy, tell me more” you smiled, making Marc growl. He got upright and placed both his hands on your neck, “youre such a filthy whore, you know that? Always wanting Daddy to fuck you like monster, never getting enough. You like it when im balls deep inside you honey, tell me you love it” he snarled, “I love it, yess, please give it to me” smirking at his grip that got tighter and tighter”. Marc started to seriously choke you, cutting all the air supply, smiling at how pathetic you looked trying to regain air, “oh trust me, youre gonna get it” he whispered letting you go. As you started to inhale again, he angled you on your side, lifting your leg up, drilling you harder than before. He dipped his hand between your lower lips and started to rub on your clit, making you scream out in pleasure. “oh my god, yessss right there Daddy please” you shrieked, completely engulfed in pleasure. You felt your lower region start to feel pressure, squeezing around him, “kitten..i can feel that youre close..dont fucking cum or ill cut your fucking throat” he warned, letting your leg go but keeping you on your side. Marc pressed his chest on your back and reached over to grab a pocket knife that was behind the bed. Flipping it open, he smiled looking at the fear in your eyes on the wall mirror.

It was almost impossible for you, but the cold blade kept you from it, your eyes widened whenever he would press it further in. “I can’t…Daddy…not much longer” you choked, looking at him with puppy eyes. “I said, wait” he whispered, lips pressed onto your ear, rubbing you faster. He looked at your flustered face, your hair all over the place, legs spread wide open for him. His arm was under your head, his hand holding the blade in place while his other hand worked on you. “Look at yourself, kitten….you’re all mine. Only I can make you feel this way, only I can have you..you’re mine till the end of time, no matter what you or anyone has to say” he muttered, looking at you through the mirror. “Say that you’re mine, y/n..”.

You were in so much pain, trying hard to not cum, “I’m yours Marc…only yours” Marc broke the cuffs off, pulling you onto him, “if you want to cum, ride me…cum on my dick” he ordered, grabbing you by the hips. Placing your hands on his broad muscular chest you started bouncing on him, you clit rubbing against his skin. Throwing your head back you moaned out his name, making him feel proud. Marc’s hands roamed all over your body, from your breasts to your ass, bringing you closer to him. Your skin was hot against his, making it so intimate, his arms held you in place as you bounced on him. “Daddy….I’m cumming” you whined, feeling your whole body tense up, you grabbed onto him and let yourself go, cumming all over his cock. While you were feeling the power of your orgasm he pushed you down and rammed into you, chasing his own high. Looking at you squirm, his sinister smile appeared, grabbing your hips fucking into you harder. “Fucking hell…youre gripping me so tight” he shuddered, squeezing your hips. Marc was not slowing down, pumping into you faster than before, begging to see stars, “Marc” you groaned, closing your eyes, completely lost in your own pleasures. He didn’t even warn you, spilling his seed inside you, unable to move. He cursed under his breath as he emptied himself inside you, feeling his warm cum inside you.

He thrusted into you a few more times, pushing his seed deeper, “I gotta get you pregnant kitten, let’s just lay here a few more minutes” he smiled. Hearing those words made you feel fear, they snapped you back into the horrific reality that was your life right now. You had just finished having sex with your kidnapper, and he was trying to get you pregnant? “No Marc, I DONT want to. I don’t want a baby” you spoke frantically, while trying to get up from under him. Marc grabbed your arms and pushed them down, “Well good thing it’s not up to you. I want a family. You’re mine, remember? Or must I remind you again” he spoke glancing over to the vial which he had used earlier. You stopped fighting him immediately, “You’re far too irresistible Y/n, if I had it my way, I would take you every hour, but you would bed ridden and we don’t want that. We want you strong and healthy for our future baby, right?” Marc smiled down at you, holding your face in his hand, “No Marc, I don’t want a family with you. You’re sick, and this is not norma” you were cut off by his hand going over your mouth, his expression changing immediately, “Wrong answer” feeling a pinch on your neck, your eyes moved toward the source and it was another syringe, emptied of its contents. This time you felt yourself slipping away slowly, “what..did you..” slurring your words, unable to continue. Marc got up from bed, clamping an anklet on you, “Dont be scared kitten, it’s just sleep medicine. You need to stay down while I’m out getting some supplies. I can’t have you catching anyones attention,” he explained, leaning over you, giving you a quick peck, “Sleep well, Darling”

#marvel smut #dark marvel smut #dark marc spector #marc spector #dark moon knight #moon knight #moonknight smut #dark smut #dark! marc spector #marvel dark smut #marc spector x reader #dark! Marc Spector

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inactive-hellish-hyperfixation · 3 years ago

Text

Beautiful | Stephen Strange x male reader

genre: fluff (a little bit of hurt? but i dont think it counts)

requested: no

summary: Stephen Strange, although known for having an overinflated ego, had an insecurity that nobody was shy about pointing out. Then, he's introduced to a man who never pried, and he couldn't help but fall.

a/n: this is my longest fic so far, and im a little proud of the length! in all honesty, this fic is just two different ideas mushed into one, so if it doesn't flow quite well, that would be why. also, all of my dr strange fics so far have ended in confession?? very strange... pun not intended.

word count: 3.2k

In all the time Stephen had known you, he’d never shown you his hands. From the moment Wong introduced you as his friend and every interaction since, he’d wear some form of gloves. Although he knew they were nothing to be ashamed of, he despised the scars, the bumps, the rods, and how evident the unsteadiness in his hands were without coverings. Every time he saw the unsightly things, he’d clench them into fists, and want to punch the nearest wall when even that felt weak. His mind convinced him that, if his reaction to his own hands was this bad, how much worse would it be for others? So he hid them around as many people as possible, and those who knew never brought it up.

Unfortunately, those who didn’t know were a different story. Sometimes they’d ask about his gloves, especially when it was a person he’d see often. The lady at the store, the barista at the cafe he frequented, non-magical librarians, and the rest. They’d all asked him about his gloves at least once at some point. Why he wore them, that they’d never seen him without them, that he must be hot wearing them in this weather, etcetera.

But not you. You’d never asked, never brought it up, never even so much as looked at them weirdly besides the first time you met when you’d observed them for a second longer than usual. Stephen hadn’t realized how much he was bothered by how others thought of his hands until you offered him a safe space to simply exist without consciously thinking about them, and it allowed him to feel comforted around you. He began to crave your company whenever he was being questioned about his gloves, and even just in general when he was alone. He wanted to fill every free moment he had with memories of you.

~~~

“I want to tell him.” The sound of Stephen’s voice broke the silence in the library, causing Wong to look up from the book he was looking at in confusion.

“Tell who what?” Wong took in the sight of Stephen leaning on a desk with his face resting on his hand and decided to close the book, sensing a longer conversation coming. Stephen broke his dazed gaze and looked up at the librarian, eyes conveying the message of “seriously?” clearly.

“You know who. I want to tell him about my hands!” The sorcerer stood up straight and brought both gloved hands up into clear view to emphasize his point. He then turned and started to pace around. Wong was unsure how to react. He was aware of Stephen’s developing feelings for his friend, but this was an unexpected turn of events. Although he’d shown an interest in possibly developing a romantic relationship with someone, his hands hadn’t been mentioned in any way, shape, or form.

“That's rather sudden. What brought this on?" Stephen’s pacing stopped and his body visibly tensed instead. Wong could feel the hesitance to speak undulating off of him in waves, and thought the conversation was over for a moment, until the man turned around with a look of determination in his eyes.

“He… I feel safe around him, Wong,” the man spoke as though it physically pained him to get the words out, but pressed on. “I want him to know. More. About me. I want to share parts of myself with him.” He took in a breath and started pacing again. “Is that weird? I feel like that’s weird.”

“Who would’ve thought, Doctor Stephen Strange talking about his feelings.” Wong let out an amused chuckle until it was shut down by a glare.

“Sorry.”

Wong cleared his throat before speaking again.

“I don’t think it’s weird, I think you’re just…”

“Just what?”

“Lovesick?” At that, Stephen let out an incredulous scoff and rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of their sockets.

“I don’t get lovesick, Wong. I’m an adult, not some childish teenager who isn’t in control of his feelings. I-”

“Am lovesick.”

“Am not!” The man turned with a little more force than necessary, shakiness in his hands noticeable even while wearing his gloves and from afar. A few moments passed, and he took a deep breath to steady himself while Wong stood strong, chin up and proud.

“Sorry.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I do. Dammit.” The man sighed and buried his face into his hands, only to pull them away and stare at them when the tremors got worse. Now Wong was shocked. A bit of agitation and aggressiveness wasn’t entirely out of character for the man, but admitting being wrong was a once in a lifetime occurrence.

“Do you think I should do it?” He looked up from his hands, making eye contact with the librarian. The raw vulnerability in his eyes shocked Wong even further, if that were possible.

“I can’t decide for you, Stephen. But I can say that, if you do choose to tell him, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

The two shared a quick look of understanding and Wong went back to flipping through his book while Stephen steeled his resolve and portaled away.

~~~

Even after his talk with Wong, Stephen spent a week mulling over how he would go about telling you about his past, even considering abandoning the idea altogether at times. Nevertheless, he managed to come up with a plan and ask you to come over to the Sanctum.

You arrived in the evening when the sun was a couple minutes away from beginning to set, and Stephen was a bundle of nerves trying its best to look like a functioning human being. The two of you spent a handful of minutes chatting and getting over the initial nervousness of being together alone, and ended up sitting on a couch somewhere in the endless building.

“So, why’d you call me over here?” You inquired during a halt in conversation, taking a sip of the tea Stephen made.

“Can’t I ask a friend over? To socialize and talk?” Even to him, the attempt at steering the conversation away from the main point was pathetic. He winced when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right, because you’re just so sociable.” You placed the teacup on the coffee table in front of you and turned your body to face the other man on the couch. He did the same, but chose to look at his gloved hands that sat on his lap instead.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, everything’s fine. I just—” He let a sigh slip from his lips and looked up from his hands, choosing to look at your face instead. After a moment of silence and thinking, he spoke.

“Why haven’t you asked about my hands?”

Well that wasn’t what he meant to say.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you started to grow a bit worried since he hadn’t ever brought up the topic of his hands around you.

“Well, it’s not really my business, is it? Sure, I was curious, but if I needed to know, you’d tell me in your own time.” You chose to answer his question honestly and it seemed to be the right choice as the sorcerer seemed a bit more relaxed.

“Right. Speaking of telling you, that’s actually why I asked you here today.” He took in a breath and let it out slowly.” I think you know I used to be a neurosurgeon, but the reason I looked for Kamar-Taj was… Ah, it might be better to just show you, actually.” You watched as he began tugging off his gloves, the action hesitant at first. Then you saw the “fuck it” moment in his expression, and his gloves were off in a blink. You thought your expression was fairly neutral, but Stephen was able to see the shock in your eyes and heard the sharp intake of breath through your nose.

“You can touch them, if you want,” he commented when he noticed your hands hovering in front of you, as though they wanted to touch but weren’t sure if they were allowed. You looked up at his face, gaining confirmation that he meant the words through the sincerity in his eyes. You also caught a trace of nervousness, and your heart softened. This meant a lot to him. You knew Stephen wasn’t the type to open up easily, and this moment was one of extreme vulnerability. The fact that he trusted you enough to share it with you could’ve brought tears to your eyes.

Focusing back on his hands, you tentatively reached out and scooped one up in each hand, allowing your thumbs to trace over some of the scars and rods inside of his fingers. Your hands shook as well, but they were as still as statues in comparison to the trembling of his.

“I got into a car accident. Well, more like I drove myself off a cliff because of my overinflated ego.” He chuckled, but there was little humor in his voice. “A lot of the scars are from surgeries, to get them to stop shaking. Safe to say they didn’t work. The only thing they did was make my hands look hideous.” At that, you looked back up at his face in shock.

“You think they’re hideous?” His expression shifted to one of confusion.

“Yes? Do you not see them? They’re mangled and—and broken, they’re more metal than skin and bones, they’re—”

“Beautiful.”

You didn’t think it was possible for someone to look that astonished.

“At least, that’s what I think.” When it became clear that he wasn’t going to speak anytime soon, you continued. “I mean, like you said, you used to be a surgeon, right? That couldn’t have been easy, so it’s pretty crazy that they were capable of surgery. Even now, they’re doing incredible sorcery and saving lives—because you want to save them, not as a side effect of greed this time.” Although it may have sounded mean, you knew Stephen used to be driven by money and ego, and you knew he was thinking that as a rebuttal, so you had to get it out of the way. “But besides what they can do, I think they’re great just because they’re yours, and I think you’re pretty great, Stephen. Your scars tell a big part of your story and what made you who you are now, even if it wasn’t the prettiest process.”

That was when the waterworks began. It was only a few tears slowly rolling down his cheeks, but they held the weight of a waterfall of emotion. When he realized, he sniffed and quickly pulled his hands away to wipe the tears away with them, looking away.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to start crying, I just…” He trailed off and looked back at you who looked at him with such understanding, patience, and openness that a few more tears slipped out.

“I think I really needed that.”

When you embraced him in the most comforting hug he’s ever experienced, he knew.

He knew that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

~~~

“The queerbaiting was terrible! They could’ve made the most iconic gay couple in all of film history, but they threw it away for a poory forced together last minute hetero couple.”

You were currently dragging Stephen along with you to take a walk because you insisted that “the weather’s so nice today, we should enjoy it!” and he couldn’t ever say no to you, and you ended up ranting about a TV show and why you hated it. Stephen didn’t really understand as he didn’t watch new films often, but was too busy staring at you to care. Anyone could see the pure love and admiration in his eyes as he drank in your figure under the warm light of the sunset, wishing that he could hold your hand or lean in and kiss you more than anything. As the sun went down and the streetlights turned on, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. Silence that was soon interrupted by the sounds of rain hitting the pavement around you.

“Ah, shit. I didn’t think it was gonna rain,” you shivered and crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to maintain some warmth. Immediately, Stephen pulled the cloak in the form of a scarf from his neck, allowed it to transform back into a cloak, and slipped it over your shoulders in a single smooth movement. He held on to the lapels and adjusted it, making your bodies face each other. The action made you look up at him with a smile and a raised eyebrow that made it impossible for the sorcerer to look away.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that! I just don’t want you to get sick.”

“So you do care about me!” At that he rolled his eyes and couldn’t help the soft smile that formed on his face.

“Yes, I do.” Suddenly, the surrounding air became charged and it felt silent even with the deafening hammering of the rain around you.

“I care about you a lot, actually.” His words came out so quietly you wouldn’t have been able to hear them had you not been so close. When did you get so close? You decided it didn’t matter because, as he slid his hands down to your back, the contact between your bodies became all that mattered.

“I know this might seem a little sudden, but I have something I need to tell you.” Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat and took a shaky breath in an attempt to steel his nerves before speaking again. You slid one of your hands up to his bicep, starting to rub little shapes in what you hoped was a soothing action.

“I already told you that I care about you, but I don’t think you understood exactly what I meant by that.” He swallowed again and took a baby step closer to you, chests now nearly touching. “I meant that I care about you more than platonically. More than as a friend, and definitely more than a friend of a friend.”

Before continuing his speech, he made a hesitant and shaky move to bring one of his hands up to cup your face. It shook even as he rested it on your face, and even more as he tried brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. He pressed his lips together in what seemed like a look of defeat, and you brought your hand up to hold his. At this point, both of you were soaked in rain water, but the heat of the moment felt like more than enough to keep the cold at bay.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I… I think I…” He started to look away, eyes shut tight, and his hands dropped to his sides. “Dammit, why can’t I just-”

“Stephen.”

He still didn’t look back at you, so you did what he had moments ago and brought the hand on his arm up to his face, softly angling it to look at you again.

“Stephen.”

This time he didn’t look away, although he seemed a bit embarrassed.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do, but it’s a little hard to just confess that I’m in love with you out of nowhere, isn’t it?”

He froze, like the words escaped a tight jail cell made specifically for them. Meanwhile, a grin formed on your face, like the words had entered a special place in your heart made specifically for them.

“You’re in love with me?” You stepped just a bit closer, chests now touching, and you let your hand caress the side of his face. He seemed to unfreeze with every movement.

“Yeah, I am.” He was finally responsive, bringing his hands to the middle of your back.

“Good, because I’m in love with you too.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed in response.

“In that case, I have another confession to make.”

“Shoot.”

“I’d very much like to kiss you right now.” He leaned in close enough for the tips of your noses to graze each other, but with enough room for you to pull away if you wanted to. Your grin widened.

“What a coincidence, I’d like that too.”

“Oh, shut up.” And with that, he finally leaned in to close the gap between your lips.

Your hand slid to the back of his neck, slightly pulling him in closer if that were even possible, and he did the same by tugging you in by the waist. The rain continued to pour, and you eventually had to pull away with a laugh because of how messy the kiss was getting due to the rain. When you did, you were met with the breathtaking sight of Stephen, hair glued to his forehead from the rain, and smiling more vibrantly than you had ever seen. The streetlight only served to make him seem more angelic.

Little did you know, he felt the same. Your affection and love freely flowing through your eyes into your expression and body language, all directed at him, was overwhelmingly positive. He felt it in his heart that this moment would be cherished for the rest of his life.

Your laughter settled, and after a handful of seconds of simply staring at each other, you shivered. The fire in your veins wasn’t enough to keep the cold at bay after all.

“We should head back,” Stephen reached into his pocket for his sling ring and created a portal to the sanctum. Specifically, his bedroom.

“Oh, Stephen. You’re awfully forward today, aren’t you?” You teased as you stepped into the portal, cringing a bit when the rain water dripped off of you and formed a small puddle on the ground.

“That’s not—god, you’ll be the death of me.” He followed you in, heading straight for the bathroom connected to his bedroom and pulling out a couple towels. It was then he realized the issue.

“I should’ve portaled you home, huh?” He looked up from the towels in his hands to you who leaned on the doorway of the bathroom, the cloak of levitation floating behind you in the bedroom.

“You get it now?” You laughed softly as you stepped into the bathroom, reaching for one of the towels in the sorcerer’s hands. “It’s alright, we can just take turns with the shower.” Before he could suggest otherwise, you leaned in close enough to feel his warm breath on your cheeks. “Or, we could shower together?” The last thing you saw before a towel was thrown into your face was a wonderful blush growing on Stephen’s face.

In the end, he agreed to your initial solution because he didn’t want the night to end quite yet. You showered first and he lent you some clothes to change into. Your time together stretched into ungodly hours of the night and was spent cooking and eating dinner, talking, and a little bit of kissing. When it was time for you to leave, Stephen created a portal to the front of your apartment door, watched you go inside (even though it was literally only a few feet away), and spent another hour or so in bed replaying the events of the day and enjoying the warmth bubbling under his skin. It was safe to say you were in no better condition.

#stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange x reader #dr strange x male reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange fanfic #stephen strange fanfiction #marvel x male reader #fluff #marvel fluff #stephen strange fluff

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faeveil · 3 years ago

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Helloo, hope you are having a lovely day (or night) :))

May i request some headcanons for Dante? (dmc) with a fem teen reader (platonic ofc), who is very challenging and sensitive? Just general fluff about how they meet and dante being a father figure to her?

Im sorry if i dont explain myself very well, if u need more details, maybe they meet because dante saved her from a demon?

And sorry for my bad english, its not my first language, take care! :) <3

TAKEN CARE OF | Dante Sparda x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I honestly feel so bad , I have no idea how long ago this request was — but I hope this still finds you and nope it’s too your liking! I also did something different with the headcanons format.

warning(s): none!

pairing: dante sparda , fem teen reader (platonic)

YOU, don’t remember how you gotten here but as of now, you’re completely terrified not because you’re about to die … okay, maybe that too. More or less you have no idea how to fight a demon.

DANTE, had a sense come to him, he sense danger in his way. Let alone he came running towards some kid who definitely not prepare for demons. All he had to do with take them out and the kid should be fine. “Hey! you okay?” He asked, helping you out your hiding spot and back onto your feet.

YOU, shook your head. “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you!” After this moment, you looked at him in admiring him — well admiring how he saved you.

IT, didn’t take too long for you to begin hanging around him, but dante was the one who basically picked you up like a stray. He also made sure to keep you in good shape. That’s in fighting against demons and well taking care of you.

YOU, also begin to follow into his foot steps, not all of them but he also figure out, how sensitive you were, so he also tried his best to not come out aggressive but that’s hardly ever.

THE, more he taught you, the more he manages to find your weaknesses and whatnot and he also found out you were very hard to understand current rules. Challenging per say, as one, he definitely overcomes it.

DANTE, wouldn’t forget the day he heard you calling him “dad” one day, It just slips out of your mouth. “Hey dad—" pause. silence. “Yeah kiddo” is what he replied with. It’s official, he’s a father now.

HE, tries to be on his best for you, he also tries his best to be there for you. If he sees you crying to him or anywhere, he’ll beat anyone who makes you cry or even the slightly sadness.

ALSO, since he does have his devil form, he would not let you get close to him or even see him like that. He does not want you to be scared of him but as his daughter, you reassure him about it and say ‘it’s pretty cool’ and not afraid.

IF, Nero is in the picture, which is most likely he’ll also help you with training but he’ll have a difficult time to get you to follow directions.

100%, will eat in the dark because Dante once again did not pay the bill again and eat pizza constantly; however, you two joke around even with no lights or yes lights.

YOU, definitely know how hard Dante tries for you and once Father’s Day or his Birthday is around the corner, you’ll make something for you or buy something for your father — having a hang out day like every other day but it’s more special, for sure.

FOR YOU, if it’s your birthday or something you did, Dante will make a party for you and just invite the family members. Definitely not a big party and ACTUALLY saves money to buy you what you always wanted.

DANTE, is your cool dad but doesn’t mean he won’t discipline you, the way he’ll do it is just to have a normal conversation about it, of course, with a disappointment face.

HE’S, also really protective but he loves you and wants what’s best for you. Same with you, he’s the best father you can ever ask and you’re glad he saved you.

#dmc5 imagine #dante sparda #devil may cry #writing #dmc headcanons #dmc x reader #dmc dante #video games #x reader #dante x reader #imagines

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dodo-begone · 4 years ago

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Sweet as Honey, Cold as Ice

Pairing: DSMP Minors (Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled) x Deceptively Sweet!Redaer

Request: I have request/idea feel free to ignore so minor reader is a total sweetheart like Niki type of sweet but they're super strong like techno type of strong so platonic with all of these obviously so my idea is with sam so this goes on while Tommy is trapped in the prison and dies and everyone is blaming sam and reader is like " if you say its Sam's fault one more its on SIGHT" and maybe they're the same with ranboo as well like maybe someone is blaming him or he's ender walking they go have a talk with dream kinda like quakity style and they're like "im gonna come here everyday if you don't stop"

Word count: 1k

Warning: mentions of manipulation

A/n: so this is done a bit differently from my normal stuff but I hope it’s still enjoyable!!

The announcement of a new arrival makes its rounds across the smp. Many wonder what type of person you are. Interests, what you looked like, what your lifestyle could be. You know, the usual stuff. One that came to the most opportunistic were less innocent. They wondered how easily they hopefully or might be able to use you, what manipulation tactics you might fall for. Though you can’t really think much on any of that when you get little to no information about someone. So they had to wait.

When you finally got to meet the damp members, a good majority of them at least, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion; you were so small. What a small thing. And you look so friendly, so approachable. Your interactions with them didn’t sway that thought either. If anything, it gave it further, sturdy foundation that they were more than happy to build off of. With such sweet actions and a cheery disposition, how could someone like you be anything but weak and innocent?

You and the boys have so much fun together just doing fun crap. Building, destroying, pranking, running around like a bunch of loonies. Just the basic fun stuff along with a few more personalized activities like making nukes or something.

Everything goes great the first few months you’re there as well. Very uneventful, which on the dsmp is a god damn blessing. The world is sunshine and rainbows, until it isn’t. One person literally fucks over the entire server, specifically you, and it’s like the whole world is ending.

It felt like a switch was flipped. Someone griefed your house while you were out helping Foolish. Saying you were pissed was an understatement; the smouldering remnants of your home sparked absolute rage within you. When you confronted the culprit about it, them laughing at you about it only fueled you further.

The only obvious thing to do was to get them back. In any way, shape or form. Destroying their builds? More than justifiable. Steal their items, specifically the most valuable ones in either personal value or general value? Well earned, if you think about it. They were liable to pay for the damage they caused. Persuading those closest to them to turn against the perpetrator? Not necessary but damn does it feel good for them to feel even a hint of their pain you experienced from them.

When the minors heard of what was going on from those around the server and yourself, they all had very different reactions.

Now Ranboo probably hasn’t experienced something like this because the closest thing he would have to that is Niki when she snapped. But he wasn’t there for that. And plus the people who are manipulative aren’t exactly as nice and sweet as you are. They’re a toxic sweet, one you could tell just from a quick interaction. He never thought you’d do anything like this. It just didn’t seem like you. Yet when it happens, he fears you. Specifically that side of you. He does not want to have that side sicked onto him. His reaction can be described simply has, “oh god that shit is so fucking scary. I would rather not. Can we not? That’d be great. Haha thank you-”. His was of avoiding that mess of whatever you were containing is to just politely ignore it. If he doesn’t think of it, it isn’t a problem. Right? Right?

Tommy is not exactly scared. It’s quite the opposite actually; he’s enamored with this new side you’ve shown. You’ve had this side of you this entire time? And you never told him about this?! Aw man, y’all’s relationship is going to be on a new fucking level after this. Now he doesn’t treat you like porcelain because he didn’t know how to treat someone who was so gentle. Now he can drag you along into his antics. You two can easily prank so many people because they think you’re so nice. You only snapped, that’s why you so different in that one situation. Oh how hilarious it was to see how oblivious they were about being played like a fiddle.

Saying that Tubbo experienced some whiplash when he found on about this new side of you would be an understatement. He was beyound shocked, gobsmacked about this new information. There’s no way that happened, right? A miss understanding or exaggeration. But when he brings this up to you, he’s forced to face the reality that you were not this sweet little angel he once thought you were. It was more than obvious that you could care for yourself. Look at what you’ve done to protect yourself already; you have a whole image of yourself to everyone else and kept the act going for so long that nobody would blame you for anything. They’d just think you were stressed or snapped, especially if you kept going as you were. Which was act mostly nice but let stuff slip every once in a while. At least he won’t have to worry about you as much! Spoiler alert, this doesn’t change his worry level at all.

The absolute pleasure that Purpled experiences when he finds this out about you is euphoric. He won’t have to worry about defending you as much now. Before he was absolutely ready to handle any remotely bad situation for you. Didn’t matter how big or small. Now though? Now he knew you could easily take care of things on your own. Which is great for somebody who can’t always defend their friends at the drop of a pin. Also another person who will bring you along for more dangerous antics. Though he’s way more thoughtful about what he brings you to do. Unlike Tommy. Out of all the boys, he’s the least likely to treat you differently. You’re just you, that’s all. Yes this new side was definitely unexpected but at the end of the day you’re his friend and this is just a part of you.

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #tommy x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #purpled x reader #x reader #dsmp shipping #mcyt shipping #c: tommy #c: tubbo #c: ranboo #c: purpled #dsmp!tommy #dsmp!tubbo #dsmp!purpled #dsmp!ranboo #dodo writing #tw: manipulation

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alygatorwrites · 4 years ago

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can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough.

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms.

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man.

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden.

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him.

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him.

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece.

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has.

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone.

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

#timeskip reiner still sexy asf #I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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rextasywrites · 4 years ago

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i heard someone's got their requests open...... SO i dont really have much other than my thirst for smut and the total conviction that leon is a boobs man (while chris is an ass man), you can't change my mind. and its not even about size, i just know that man loves him some 🍒, big or small. anyways, im also a sucker for some angst so what about a little thing where leon and the reader broke up for whatever reason but deep down they miss each other a lot and wish they have not given up so easily, and then they sleep together... for like the first time since the break up and leon is all up on her and her 🍒 that he missee so much. just smut w a little plot lmao, thank you if you consider!! :)

This has been my favourite request so far so I had to get to it right away! i hope you enjoy it anon! <3

Warnings: smut and some angst at first

It’s been a month since Leon left. After one of the worst missions he ever had to face, he decided it was enough. If he had to face zombies and bio weapons and fuck knows what else, he’d do it alone and not risk her life too. Breaking up was the wisest decision, keeping her save. As a Kennedy, she would always have a target on her back, ready to be shot at. And if another person he loves dies because of him...Leon didn’t know if he would be able to overcome the grief and sadness.

It was two in the morning when you heard someone banging against your door. Out of reflex, you grabbed the gun he had left at your apartment months ago, ‘just in case’. Now was one of those times you thought. With an unlocked gun and in your nightgown you headed towards the door. The mysterious visitor was still banging against it, saying your name over and over again. “(Y/N), (Y/N), open up!”, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Leon. And he sounded drunk.

You placed the gun away and unlocked the door. This caught Leon by surprise and he stumbled forwards, thanks to your great reflexes you caught him before his pretty face could kiss the hardwood floor. “Leon, the fuck you doing here?”, you asked as you helped him back on his feet. Together you headed to the living room where you sat him down on the couch, getting him a glass of water.

“I miss you baby!”, Leon hip cupped during the sentence, giving you his best puppy eyes. Fuck, not the puppy eyes…

“Leon, we broke up a month ago.”, you replied as you placed the cup of ice cold water in his hands. It still hurt, and seeing him in a state like this confirmed your belief that he wasn’t taking it easily.

Leon shrugged and took a few sips from the water, pulling a face. “That’s not wodka…”, he muttered as he placed the glass down. “Anyway. I missed you and your smell and your soft hair and your boobs and…”

You sighed and cupped his cheeks, “Leon, stop it. We broke up for a reason…”

“And that reason is stupid as fuck. I miss you.”, he confessed like the drunken mess that he is, still using his puppy eyes like you. Leon tilted his head, sticking his bottom lip out, “I miss waking up to you next to me, when you drool on your pillow and your hair is all messy an-”

You cut him off. Enough is enough. You had longed for him and his touch ever since he walked out of the door of your apartment, crying just like you did. Ever since you wanted him for yourself again, your Leon. You cut him off with a soft kiss, tasting the various liquors he had dumped into his body into the hours prior to your meeting.

“Leon…”, you whispered against his lips, the stubble of his beard scratching against your cheeks as he rubbed against you. All the feelings pent up were crashing down on you, and you both couldn’t hold back the desire burning deep inside of your bodies.

“Bedroom. Now.”, Leon said as he stood up, pulling you with him. Despite his stumbling, the muscle memory told him where your bedroom was, and in no time you two were in the bed you had shared so many times. Leon pulled you into his lap, instantly burying his face between your breasts. As a breathy moan escaped your throat, Leon tugged on your nightgown. “Off.”

To his enjoyment, your nightgown found its way to your bedroom floor, and to his delight, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Damn, how I missed them”, Leon muttered as his eyes were fixed on your breasts, taking in their shape, form, even the colour of your nipples. His calloused fingers flicked your nipples, drawing a moan from your lips. Ever since he had found out they were your weakness...Nothing had stopped him from spending literal hours between them, drawing one orgasm after the other from your body.

“You sound so fucking sweet like that...missed your cute moans, babe.”, Leon growled out as he placed one hand on your hips, guiding you to grind against him. As if it was in your blood, you moved your hips against his, feeling his rather obvious bulge against your panties. “Good girl.”, Leon flicked his tongue over your nipples, one time each, just enough to make you wish for more. Your hand dug into his shoulders, a silent beg for touch and satisfaction.

The moment Leon wrapped his lips around your nipple felt as if you were floating on cloud 7. The familiar feeling of his teeth gently biting into your soft flesh, leaving marks behind to show whose girl you are. How his beard scraped ever so slightly against your skin, tiny red traces of your connection for days to admire. He sucked and licked as if his life depended on it.

Because you were so busy with the pleasure Leon brought upon you with his mouth, you didn’t realize that he had tugged your panties to the side, only when his fingers brushed against your clit was when you gasped. Leon pulled away from your tits, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. What a sight, what a view. “Do you want this?”

“Of fucking course.”, you breathed out, and before Leon could suck on your other breast, you pulled him into another kiss, breathlessly but full of need and lust. While you kissed Leon, his fingers collected enough of your sheer endless wetness and plunged them inside of you. The stretch and calloused feeling made you feel filled up, a feeling you had longed for since Leon had last touched you. “Leon, please…”, you moaned out as he stroked over your g-spot, feeling every little bit of your inside, of the place that made you feel so good.

“Please what? Say it, little girl.”

“I want you Leon. Fuck, I need you. Now.”, and that was all Leon needed. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty and whining. You wiggled your hips while he pulled down his own jeans and took off his shirt, giving you enough time to admire the beautiful man in front of you.

Leon pulled you closer once he was undressed, leaning against the wall by the bed, guiding your hips closer to his. God, he was so beautiful with his uncut cock, standing at attention just because of you. “I missed this.”, you confessed and to your surprise, Leon agreed with you before he slowly guided himself inside of you. Fuck, how you deeply you missed his. It felt as if you two were made for each other. You needed a hot second to adjust to his size, he wasn’t so big that it would hurt, but...an impressive cock was hidden in his pants.

“Fuck, little girl, you feel so good.”, Leon groaned as he started to move his hips along with your, moving as one. He rested his head on your shoulder, one arm around your waist, the other one busy with rubbing your clit. His touch alone made you see stars, and since you hadn’t masturbated since he left, your orgasm was approaching fast.

The first waves of your orgasm caught Leon by surprise, making him look up to you. “Already?”, he asked, his lips parted and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. You nodded as another wave washed over you, and Leon felt his cock twitching inside of you. So tight, so fucking good…

“Fuck, baby”, Leon moaned against your skin, pulling you into another open mouthed kiss. The taste of alcohol was fading off, replaced with his unique taste. And fuck, it was an addicting taste. Your tongues danced together as every moan was swallowed by the other party.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum. His thick fingers, his cock made for your pussy...together you reached your peaks, panting and moaning as the orgasms came over you. As you contracted around him, Leon filled you up to the brim, the sweetest feeling of them all with your lovers cum inside of you. Your neighbours probably heard your loud moans but at this moment, you couldn’t care less.

As Leon went soft, his cock slipped out of you, his cum dripping out. But in this very moment you felt more connected to Leon than you had ever been, and judging by his soft smile, he felt the same.

“Come on little one, lets catch some sleep?”, Leon suggested. It wasn’t even in question that he would leave. Fuck no, this bed had been his bed for so long and now came his chance to sleep in it again. You nodded and got off his lap. After quickly drying yourself up, you joined Leon under the covers, snuggling against his chest.

With a soft yawn you dozed off in your lovers arms, but you were sure you heard Leon say, “I love you and will do so forever.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #Anonymous

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entishramblings · 5 years ago

Text

The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey.

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

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