#kind of thing he's going through. and I wonder if that'd make him hate it or be kind of curious-- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

your-divine-ribs · 3 days

Text

Ice Cold Part 15

Words: 2.4k

Lyla finds out more about Van’s past 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I owe you my life Lyla."

Raj's voice was filled with an appreciative kind of awe that made me squirm in my seat. I was uncomfortable enough visiting him as it was, I hated hospitals, but the praise he kept heaping on me just made things worse.

"You'd have done the same for me, any of us would have," I replied. "I just wish I'd not been distracted. As soon as I saw those fake waiters I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have hesitated."

My mind drifted back to that fateful night in Paris and the note from Van urging me to 'GET OUT NOW'. I was sure if I'd followed that instruction I would have been at Raj's graveside now rather than his hospital bed, but still it didn't seem good enough.

Raj shifted where he lay, groaning and screwing up his face, clutching his bandaged abdomen. "Shit... I think it's time for my pain meds again."

"I'll get a nurse," I offered, rising to my feet. "I should be getting back to the office anyway."

"No!" He said hurriedly. "Don't go yet!"

I hesitated, turned to him, watched an awkward little smile emerge on his lips as he struggled to hide his discomfort. "I was thinking... erm... maybe when I get out of this place... maybe we could... errr... go and grab a drink or something?"

My heart sank as I took in his hopeful expression and I just hoped the small smile that I painted on looked genuine. "Errr... yeah sure... that'd be nice... look I really do need to get back. I'll come and visit again soon."

"I'd like that," I heard him say as I hurriedly turned and made for the exit.

Of course I had no intention on taking Raj up on his offer. He was nice enough, a real gentleman, good-looking and sweet. Someone I was that sure Jen would call 'a real catch', but those qualities didn't interest me. They didn't make my heart race and my mind spin. They didn't make me feel the same way that Van did.

In truth, my visit to Raj wasn't just as a well-meaning friend or colleague, I'd also had an ulterior motive. I wanted to find out who'd he'd been working with on the psychological profiling team. I tried to tell myself that I wanted to delve into Van's past to assist me with bringing him down, but I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I was in so deep now all I could do was tread water and try and keep my head above the surface, the dangerous current threatening to completely sweep me away.

Andrea was a small bird-like woman with sharp features and a serious demeanour, and she looked at me with something between wonder and admiration as I asked her to walk me through Van's psychological profile report.

"We've all been talking about you in this office Lyla," she said, eyes bright. "No one else has spent so much time with Van before and got away with their life. What was he like?"

Exciting... Dangerous... Intoxicating...

I batted the words out of my mind and settled on a very different adjective.

"Terrifying."

I saw Andrea visibly shudder as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, picking up a thick file and starting to leaf through.

"You know, you're such a good agent," she said, pulling out sheets and photos. "Most field operatives don't care much about profiles and psych reports, they're straight in there all guns blazing, going for glory. They don't realise that getting inside someone's head and knowing how their mind works is key to catching them."

"Well, no matter what they've done, they're still people at the end of the day, right?" I answered.

Andrea narrowed her eyes. "Oh, we don't do this to humanise them. They're monsters... all of them... no matter what they've been through. No... we do this to find their weaknesses. That's how we bring them down."

"Oh..." I looked away quickly, taking a sip of my coffee.

Andrea carried on, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Of course someone like Van... well that's easier said than done. He doesn't appear to have any weaknesses. Tell me... you've been the closest to him... what are your thoughts? Is there anything we can use to get to him?"

Her question caught me off guard and I froze for a moment. Of course Van had a weakness. A very obvious one. And unbeknownst to Andrea she was looking directly at it.

"Errr... no... I don't think he does have any weaknesses that I've seen... but he's just a man right? They're all weak in some way, hey?"

I nudged Andrea gently, grinning, trying for a joke to distract from the serious look on her face as she studied me intently, but it was quite obvious she wasn't the joking type. She simply sighed and turned her attention back to the files, picking up an old dog-eared crime report.

A photo slipped out of the pages and fell in front of me on the desk and I picked it up for a closer inspection. It was a small boy, he couldn't have been any older than five or six. His clothes were crumpled and torn and stained with what looked like dried blood. The pale skin of his face was streaked with it too. The haunted look in his eyes told me that he'd seen horrors no boy of his age should have seen.

"Is this... is this Van?" I stuttered.

I didn't really need to ask. I'd recognise those striking blue-green eyes anywhere. Andrea nodded.

"What happened to him?"

Andrea's expression was grim as she spoke. "This was taken when they found him, he was just six years old. His family were killed... all of them.... and he witnessed it. He'd been left in the house for five days with their bodies when they found him."

"Christ..." I breathed. "How were they killed?"

"Murdered."

The word cut through me like a knife to the heart and an image of my own dead father flashed through my mind's eye.

Andrea wasn't finished with her gruesome tale. "It was brutal, a machete attack apparently. The father was beheaded. It was a gangland style execution."

Nausea rose in me. "Who did it?"

"I'm sure you've heard of Tommy Chappell."

I nodded. Everybody had. An infamous criminal who was notorious for running all of the criminal activity in the North twenty years ago.

"Van's father was a bad man. Really bad. Rotten to the core. He used to work for Tommy, running the drug operations. He got greedy though, he was skimming money off the top, and then of course when he got found out Tommy had to make an example of him."

"What about his mum?"

Andrea had a look of distaste on her face. "She was no better. A junkie and an alcoholic. She should never have had children, those boys were neglected right from the moment they were born. They never really stood a chance."

"Boys?" I said, confused by the plural term.

She sifted through the files again, her fingers alighting on another photo. Van looked even younger here and he was with an older boy.

"Van has a brother?"

"Did," Andrea confirmed. "He was a lot older than Van. Chappell didn't spare him either."

I could picture the horrific scene in my mind, Van as a young child, forced to watch his family members meet their grisly ends. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad people, at that age family were all you had. I shook my head, trying to clear the emotion away that was threatening to surface. I had to be professional.

"So what happened to him... afterwards?"

Andrea pulled a sizeable stack of papers out of the file and placed them into my outstretched hands. "He got taken into care. He was young enough that there were plenty of families who were interested in fostering to start with... well, that was until the problems started."

I stopped sifting through the papers and looked up at Andrea, eager to hear more.

"It became apparent quite quickly that Van wasn't like other six year olds. Something was seriously wrong with him. He was... cruel, destructive, often violent. One family went so far as to say he was evil."

I scoffed disbelievingly. "That's ridiculous! He was six years old! After everything he'd been through it's not surprising he had issues!"

"Naturally," Andrea agreed. "Social care's come a long way in the last twenty years. Unfortunately Van was shipped around a lot at first. Families handed him back because they couldn't cope with him. Eventually they ran out of options, so he stayed in care homes... some of them shall we say... rather disreputable..."

She screwed up her face. She didn't need to elaborate, I'd heard enough horror stories of vulnerable children abused by those who had been trusted to care for them.

Andrea went on. "He became just another product of the system... damaged. It's a textbook classic example really. I mean, not all psychopathic behaviour stems from neglect and abuse, but the majority does. If an infant doesn't receive the love they need to form emotional bonds in the first few years of life they develop what's known as attachment disorder. Believe or not, humans have to be taught how to love!"

She allowed herself a laugh then, but I didn't find any humour in it. The ache in my heart was steadily getting stronger the more I heard.

"But his parents... they must have loved him in their own way!" My voice cracked with an emotion I wasn't expecting.

"The McCanns?" She snorted like I'd said something preposterous. "Like I said the mother was an addict and his father was a violent, abusive man. His brother was brought up in the family business and he was very much his father's son. Van was probably being taught how to load a gun when most little boys were getting their first train set. I don't think that boy ever saw anything even close to love... not even for one day of his life."

I wasn't prepared for the feelings that ripped through me, I almost felt physically winded and my unemotional facade slipped. Andrea's eyes narrowed at me.

"You look a little peaky. Do you want a glass of water?"

"No... errr no I'm fine, honestly. Carry on... please."

Andrea's eyes lingered on me just a fraction too long, and I could feel the guilt rising. I cleared my throat and let my head hang whilst I pretended to study the social services statement.

"There's not much more to tell really...." She lent forward, lowering her voice. "Don't go feeling sorry for him. He's good at what he does because he doesn't feel remorse."

"I don't feel sorry for him!" The words sprang from me forcefully, defensively. "I just know how it feels to lose a parent in such a brutal way... that's all."

"Yes I know all about that," Andrea said. "It's the age-old argument of nature versus nurture isn't it? Are people really born bad or does life just shape them that way? You can put two people through the same experience and they can react in totally different ways. Van chose this life. Your dad was murdered too but look how you turned out."

Yeah, a real upstanding and moral citizen...

"It's hardly the same is it?" I replied, knowing I sounded like I was defending him but not being able to stop myself. "He had nothing. At least I had family... my mum..."

"Like she was such a comfort to you when it happened!" Andrea's sharp and sarcastic tone cut me off and I looked at her, stunned. She looked shocked by the outburst herself, quickly back-tracking.

"Err... I didn't mean... I mean I shouldn't have said that..." She faltered, then put out a hand to rest on my arm which I hastily moved away. "I'm sorry but I read your file, your psych evaluations, your therapy sessions..."

I dropped the files on the desk, rising quickly to my feet, pushing the chair back forcefully across the floor with a screeching sound. "I suggest you do your job and read the criminals' reports, not the staff's!" I hissed.

"But... but I had to! When we had that data breach earlier in the year... all those files got accessed. It wasn't just the assignment files... they got into the personnel files too."

I'd already started to turn, but this statement stopped me in my tracks. I'd not heard of any data breach. "What are you talking about?"

Andrea's face looked stricken, like she'd said something she shouldn't have and had now been caught out. I glared at her, watched her squirm with unease.

"I'm guessing no one told you then..."

I took a step closer, my mind racing. "Told me what?"

She glanced around, uncomfortable, but I wasn't backing down. "Just tell me," I said sharply.

She sighed then, took a breath before the words tumbled out of her. "It was the worst breach we've had. Our network's supposed to have state of the art encryption too, it should be uncrackable, but somehow someone got in. They accessed all sorts, assignments, undercover agent information. It blew some of their covers wide open. Thankfully they managed to get them all out in time... but it could have cost lives. Remember that senior member of staff Eric suddenly leaving? Someone had to be made accountable. At least they didn't access too many of the personnel files..." she trailed off, eyes darting around before coming to rest on me again. "They got into your file though... they accessed the whole lot... everything. It was strange because none of the other agents were affected... it was only yours..."

I'd stopped listening at this point. Thoughts were thundering through my head as I stood motionless, mouth agape.

"Are you alright? I don't think Paul wanted to worry you..."

I ignored her, starting to back away before I quickly whirled around and made for the door, flinging it open. All I could picture in my head was Van, eyes burning into me with intensity whilst he spoke those three words.

"I know you..."

#ice cold #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

11 notes · View notes

beansnsoup · 2 years

Text

Love at first sight

Eddie Munson x reader

Request: idk if ur still asking but if u are could you maybe do an eddie x 70's stevie Nick's, fleetwood mac style vibe fem reader ???? I think their vibe would be so cool,,, like opposing a little bit but they fit really well together and almost like a rocker and hippie vibe idk what it would be about maybe like her going up to him at lunch and hes with hellfire or smth and they are kinda like 'oh,,, guess that makes sense' like the vibes but they get so soft around

☆

Summary: Being a quiet yet out there person Eddie begins to obsess over you, and so do you.

He first saw you when he's putting his campaign folder back into his locker, he glances at you through the side of his eye but ends up staring. You're wearing a loose, half tucked in blouse, with a long brown skirt, a sachel type bag, and a Walkman playing in your ears.

He tears his eyes away fast before you can send a glare his way after feeling his stare. You never hated Eddie, he always found ways to surprise you during lunch times, how he'd jump on the table and have little speeches, which either riled people up or made them weirded out. Either way, you found him intriguing.

His rings, and the same Hellfire shirt he wore almost everyday, and his hair, oh my God his hair. But you tried not to get too caught up about it, you've never had the best luck with the boys at your school. You normally kept to yourself and since your style was different from all the preppy girls at the school you were mocked for it by the basketball team and sometimes the cheerleaders, but you never cared. It's not like it mattered.

But after that moment in the hallway you found yourself being more interested in him, you weren't a D&D person so it's not like you were about to ask questions about Hellfire just to spend more time with him. Then you had the brilliant idea to write him a note instead. That'd be the right thing to do right?

It's better than asking him out loud if he wanted to hang out with you then getting turned down, then being utterly humiliated for the rest of your life. Then you pull out a piece of paper and your pencil and start to write.

'Hey, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out. You don't have to, I'm not going to do one of those cheesy ass 'yes' or 'no' type things, but if you wanted to, I'm going to that one table in the woods, if you don't want to you can stand me up. It's fine either way. -Y/N'

You thought that was good enough, you fold it up and wait for the bell to ring for next period so you don't have to walk infront of everybody in the cafeteria.

A good 5 minutes later the bell rings, you go to throw away your trash and then rush to his table where they all are starting to get up. You tap his shoulder to catch his attention, when he turns to look at you he doesn't say anything, just stares. His friends are staring at you too. You hand him the note, "Don't read it now, you have nosey ass friends." You chuckle under your breath and then walk away.

"Not going to lie, I saw this pairing coming." Mike says. Dustin smiles at him, "Honestly, I did too." Her replies to Mike. Both of them not daring to look at Eddie because he's most likely giving them a death stare.

—————————————

Your sitting on the top of the of the table, finishing up your book, when you finish the last couple pages you have left you check your watch. 'It's been like 15 minutes. He was probably just judging me, I took it in the wrong way.' You think, kind of upset about this outcome.

When you start to get up Eddie rushes into the secluded area, "Sorry I'm late, I got held up with my last class. You're lucky I don't have a campaign tonight." He says to while going to sit at the table. "You're fine." You tell him.

This is more awkward than you thought it'd be. He glances at you, "So..did you want to talk to me or something?" He asks you, sitting up from his laid back position. "I don't know, you've just peaked my interest lately." You respond, grinning at him. His cheeks flush a little but you pretend not to notice.

He gains a bit of confidence, "If it makes you feel better M'Lady, I've also taken quite a liking to you." He admits to you sliding closer to you, his arms crossed. You look at him smiling at his words. Not knowing what else to do, you pull him in for a kiss.

He's shocked a bit at first, but accepts it. Lips moving together perfectly. He pulls away so he can pepper kisses on your jaw and your forehead. He leans back to take you in for a minute, "How would you feel if I take you out on a proper date, princess?"

The request with the nick name makes you want to melt, "I think that's an amazing idea." You agree, putting your arms around his neck pulling him in for another kiss.

——————————————

You guys are now the new power couple at Hawkins High, second to Jason and Chrissy of course. You make him listen to your Fleetwood Mac records, he hated it at first because it obviously wasn't his type of genre but you eventually got him obsessed.

Making him crystal necklaces that he wear around his neck religiously. His friends love it, they've never told him that, but they think it alot when the two of you are hanging out.

You somehow match his aura perfectly, making him soft towards you. His uncle loves you. Knowing you were the just right thing that Eddie needed, what Eddie was missing.

And Eddie couldn't agree more.

The idea/request is from @lydiascottage !!

Tysm for this idea, I hope I did it a way you like, again thanks sm for the idea!

#stranger things #eddie munson x reader #dustin henderson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #fleetwood mac #request

377 notes · View notes

arrivingonthescene · 10 months

Text

most of dora's facts stemming from harry's dream version of her, or jean who's only ever heard harry shitting on her, makes it hard to figure out what she's like. i get that's the point but i'm so curious. would she really think he's a poverty-stricken fuck if they lived in that matchbox with fleeting electricity if she wrote that letter that's so full of infatuation? her parents paid for their life and harry's RCM training but for how long? was she still an arts academic? obviously at some point the last straw on the mountain of straws made it fizzle into nothingness but... idk i can't help but feel the letter & dream-dora stating she fell in love with harry at first sight from how Cool he was, being a form of worship on her part too, an innocent version. "I wanted you to be the rest of my life that day." and along the years that worship tipped over to a detrimental degree on harry's side. and even the dream version of her who spits back the things most likely said durimg arguments, goes from frustration to pity to wistfulness, but what made it sadder to me was how long the phone call can go on for. dream-dora says she moved on so bluntly and lists all the things she dislikes about him, but phone-dora's patience shined through even when harry's saying shitty stuff to her. she could have just hung up immediately and never pick up again the first time he rings her

so going off this, the following are personal headcanons

i imagine she dated harry in an act of rebellion, harry joined the RCM to increase his Cool Factor from high school gym teacher to badass superstar cop (i think the game says she pushed him towards it but i view this via harry-lens where she is a God who caused everything) and along the way as he deteriorated it brcame kind of sunk-cost. along the way she became pregnant, and maybe when the old harry shimmered through she thought they could make it work, but reality hit and she terminated it. i honestly feel like she'd do so alone. and now i wonder if she had any friends or if dating harry made her isolated. did anyone support her leaving him? i'd imagine her parents were thrilled to hear it.

from how open harry is about his thought processes, and how painful it is to him to hear dream-dora demean them, i felt that real-dora could have apreciated them during their good days. i imagine anyone harry knows that intimately who also supports all his voices and brain compartmentalization can easily become someone he worships because of how rare that'd be for him. because how else would he be with her for that long if she hated those parts of him right off the bat? like, all these acts of humanity made him raise her higher and higher until she reached a status she could never act out, she is not perfect, she's just a person, she is a person i'm suddenly so interested in. during harry's fledgeling RCM days i bet she asked tk hear how mr. law brought justice but it quickly became apparent that, not only were the tales depressing, he was throwing himself into work so hard. married to the job. dora having to sell her collected art pieces to get by. and one day harry asks to sell one that's extremely precious to her and that's when she put her foot down and asked her parents for assistance. maybe it was a figurine. time went on as RCM life consumed him, and harry forgot what made dora tick but he never forgets the fact that she loves figurines

more tame but, harry having art cop as one of his copotypes, what if he picked up that notion to impress her? i don't know if she'd teach him art critique herself but like. so much of harry's personality is bending himself every which way to impress someone. i mean i can kind of see how that'd be an addicting person to date knowing he and dora broke up and got back together before. tripping over himself a hundred million times to impress her or win her back. i know for a fact the 'i have a vast soul' thoughts harry can express are him internalizing things she said about him

it could have been easy for the writing to demonize her but it was so apparent that it's harry's twisted view. god the writing of this game. picking out parts of who dora is from inside harry's imprints in the world.

#text #dora ingerlund #this is written for a dora perspective im aware of my wording when it comes to harry Sounding like that but i cant condense shit

26 notes · View notes

luvring · 1 year

Note

Hi love! Do you open req? I just want to req main 3 last legacy (if you want to include rime idm) with assassin mc?

M3 WITH AN ASSASSIN!MC

gn!mc | meoww. will probs not be doing much more LL in the future unless it's. modern au? didn't realize how much my brain would struggle. woah. i forgot most of the plot ..lol.. if my characterization is awful Don't Look At Me. 😁🫥

anisa

this a Morally Complex Situation.

i imagine this pair would have the most to work through. like it'd have the most tension at the reveal of mc's job because of anisa's job, seeing herself in them, etc. etc. especially if they've built some sort of relationship/trust at this point .

^ because well now there's questions of why did they choose to stick with her rather than the others. what do they think of her, do they have ulterior motives, etc etc. and i'm Sure this will come up with the other two, but i see it the most emotionally hard-hitting in anisa's case :')

though as anisa's route continues and she's thrown into a position of really questioning loyalty, rules, etc. mc is probably one of the best people who can offer a thoughtful nuanced take.

Something Something, finding out the LoS is her father, choosing to believe in and support her, anisa opening up. something something joke about going after him for her while both knowing it'll be anisa's choice what happens something something

wow sorry but in a world where LL. was here. and anisa had the time to develop and accept(?) mc's career properly (Sorry.) i think she'd want to know more about it. maybe when she's looking for help and mc would be able to share not just advice but the story behind it

on a lighter note :) again,, in the Good timeline where we've gotten canon development for both of them,, i do think anisa doesn't let the whole "i'm / i was an assassin, i'm fine" thing slide if mc tries to brush off her concern. like sorry, are you not victim to basic needs and exhaustion be serious

also ! think of the strategies they could come up with ! both of these people bring knowledge and so many skills to the table. I'd trust them with an important mission🤷🏻‍♀️!

she knows they're perfectly capable of taking care of themself and vice versa, so it's heartwarming when both check on the other. so real

sage

under the assumption that mc would hide their career, the M3 treat them as an average person. but sage is perceptive, and would probably pick up on minute details that'd tip him off that mc is more skilled than they let on

externally internally says i knew it when he inevitably finds out. maybe not that they were an assassin, but someone definitely trained

just to make sure there's a little angst(??) for all three! sage is a smart guy! he is!! he'd be suspicious of mc if the m3 find out early on and they haven't developed a strong relationship.

mc and sage not trusting each other, not sharing info either to break that ice, sage wondering why they'd choose to stick with him, etc. he manages to make some kind of flirty joke the first... meeting? after the reveal, but they both know they're watching each other LOL.

anyways. hey guys. at some point when that trust is built,, no amount of deadly energy will stop this man from flirting. "are you my assassination target? because i really want to take you out." sage my brother in christ you would be the target

sage asks where they learned everything, why, when, etc. but he understands if they try to evade his questions. if/when mc does open up about it, he listens intently and tells them that hey,, it's not like he's going to just Hate/stop caring about them

there's always a base level of concern since sage, evidently, hates the idea of anything bad happening/losing them, but he's still aware and grateful that he can trust mc to take care of themelf !

god. assassin!mc giving sage a look when he tries his whole isolation, working alone thing. you and i are Both experienced with this so try again.

felix

being an assassin is a very different career path than a barista like lets be fr.

mc so easily lies about working and making coffee and awful customer experiences when they first meet that when they show they're capable of taking down an enemy,, felix is like ? have i greatly misunderstood the job expectations of a barista ?

being both trained as an assassin and in magic by felix is a stacked deck (theoretically if things go well.) and while the skill set isn't really the same, mc's ability to pick up on things, focus, etc. is definitely applicable in their lessons

necromancy and assassination go two opposing ways tbh if u think about it. but both end up with Complicated (nonexistent?) Relationships With Others, so he can sympathize in that way

but also it's still. different. felix does find himself wondering what kind of people they've been assigned, whether asking would be rude, whether that should Really Be His Main Concern considering his company, etc.

if they've spent enough time together, he trusts that they have no ill intentions toward him at least. and a guy's got to appreciate promised protection

and does he want to know the kinds of people they've assassinated ? maybe. yes. intrigue. he shares magic and stories from astraea for tidbits of mc's career. depending on who exactly their targets were, felix is about to become very knowledgeable on some of earth's politics and figures

also would mc's stealth and stratagem come in handy for ...pranks and evasion... Who's to say? felix might,, if the opportunity arises. probably after they use it against him. smth smth you and stella teaming up against me smth smth

#last legacy #anisa anka #sage lesath #felix escellun

43 notes · View notes

fizzingwizard · 8 months

Text

weird (tmi warning)

so I often bitch about how much I hate shaving. well, when I was a teen, living at home with my parents, and didn't have a boyfriend, and wasn't going out, I used to go without shaving my legs whenever I could. usually thats because I was wearing long pants most of the time, but in the summer i might be wearing shorts only at home, where only family members would see me.

all I was trying to do was not shave because I hated it so much and got such awful razor burn, and also I was like still a kid and had a very limited income from my part time job, which I was saving to go to Japan. so i didn't spend on random products to help with shaving that I didn't even know whether or not they'd work. I just didn't want to be itchy all the time, and I thought my family, at least, wouldn't mind me being a little hairy. I mean my mom shaved but not everywhere >_> and my dad being a man of course didn't but also he very often walked around completely naked except for his briefs. was it really ridiculous of me to think that if my dad could strut around the house in his underwear no problemo, i could be a little hairy sometimes?

anyway on my last phone call with my dad, I don't remember how we got on the topic but I mentioned shaving and my dad was shocked to find out that I shave regularly. I was like yeah dad I've been doing it since I was thirteen. "but you didn't all the time" "no dad because shaving sucks and if no one was gonna see me i didn't do it" and he said "I thought you were doing that rebellious European feminist thing, you know, they like to go full body har"

9_9

I'm unreasonably annoyed by the this x'D for like twenty years my dad has thought I express my feminism through refusing to shave. (a position btw he doesn't respect) never did it occur to him to ask me. or that shaving just sucks. this is doubly funny bc when my mom taught me how to shave (remember I was 13) she told me to use my dad's razor. (which is probably pretty weird but thats what happened) and then I just... never had my own razor x'D until I went to college. so i was shaving with my dad's razor all through my teen years, and my dad still didn't think I was shaving??? he thought i was intentionally choosing to look like a yeti, at like fifteen, because I was such a radical feminist. that is hilarious because if anything describes me at fifteen, it'd be conservative. I was still pretty entrenched in evangelical christianity back then. and i'd been taught by church, and specifically by my dad, that feminism was just whiny and full of lies. if he said he thought i was being a European feminist lol when I was like twenty-five, that'd be different, but at fifteen? bahahaha.

and then more recently. i don't remember what it was but some video on youtube I think, someone was talking about rejecting make-up as a form of feminism, resisting the patriarchy and all that. and of course I know about that, same as I do know about women who choose not to shave for feminist reasons. but because of the conversation with my dad I'm now wondering. are people looking at me and thinking she doesn't wear makeup because she's an extreme feminist? she goes to protests and flashes her boobs while shrieking into a megaphone? looooool. I don't wear makeup because I hate the feeling of having stuff caked on my face, I hate having to take it off, I hate having to pay for it, I hate having to try a hundred different brands just to find something that kind of occasionally works on me. I'm fine with my face. It's not an amazingly beautiful face. but it's mine. i have no problems with it. other people might but i'm not being some super feminist by not caring about it, i just don't actually care.

that being said I am feminist and will defend anyone's right to shave or not shave, wear makeup or not wear makeup. just like maybe ask people before you leap to conclusions. its so weird that everything i do has to be some kind of statement. i just don't like wearing makeup or shaving, that is it, there's no deeper meaning to it lmao

#personal

7 notes · View notes

penname-artist · 10 months

Text

Help I cannot stop thinking about various kinks and other such preferences that characters (canon and OC alike) have:

I'm pretty sure everyone who's found my content is aware that I will put both Dusty and Nick through literally anything. I don't even need to specify them, one of them is shamelessly horny and the other is both curious and too humble for his own good and that's a dangerous thing to be when you're that submissive and bree- ANYWAYS

I've always thought Blade is really good with - and preferring of - two things: personal control and endurance. He's a control freak as it were (this is not new information I'm sure) but he has a vibe that just screams show me what you're capable of. If going the extra mile with your stamina does that, I think that'd be right up his alley.

Windlifter is tricky because I think by default he probably stands on one of two sides of the line, either he's the most vanilla motherfucker you've ever seen, or you don't WANT to know the things that he gets up to. So why not both? Soft and lighthearted lover, until that one night every now and again when he breaks out the ginger roots (don't- don't look that up, I beg of thee)

Cabbie. Yeah he's a tough one but I'm gonna play it safe tonight and say he's probably...rough but casual. Vanilla, yes. A lot to handle, also yes. Could he kill you? Probably. Will he? The...the jury is out on that one until next Tuesday my guy. Jus don't piss him off, got it?

Dipper is one of our kind, so I feel like we all kind of know how that goes. Maybe. No? No takers, nobody? Y'all hate this bitch on purpose sometimes I swear, anyways, she's probably really kinky in a really ADHD "way" - like, leave room as a power move and forget your partner on the bed on occasion, kind of way. And you know she's probably pegged someone before

Maru is just like. A secret. The man of the secrets to be kept. Has he ever slept with another being? Who knows! Does he mention it? Not once! Do we still get an idea of his preferences with that lack of info? Yeah a bit, I think he's like Blade a little, he prefers that safety of control of his surroundings.

We're moving onto OCs now because I wanna, and TYKER is a very interesting lover. He's generally really into any/all power dynamics, even if it's really light, and even if he's not the one emitting the power too. And I won't lie he seems like a type of guy who would be into breeding. But in all facets he's really calm and relaxed, he rarely lets his freak show out. Well, it slips every now and again. But not often.

Clutch is definitely a power player, and down to clown with a lot of dynamics and things. She's on the list with Dusty and Nick in a way, she'll try anything, experimentation is fun.

Milo is so fucking adorable and he hates it but then because he hates it his face turns red and that makes him SO ADORABLE anyways he's very much into praise, as well as a little of pet-play. He's definitely had a collar and leash on before. But, he's red-faced and fanning himself about whatever he gets into because he's also a fucking dork. Tyker is so so gentle with him you have no idea.

Apollo - yes hello he still exists and he's nagging me about it - is really into passionate shit, romantic aesthetic shit, music playing over the sounds of. Copulating. *Ahem* and he's kinda into biting and hickies, he just hates actually having them because he's always gotta cover it up (no WONDER he's always in turtlenecks, guys I figured it out)

Saga is a feisty bitch, do NOT let her sweet green exterior fool you. She will twirl her boy-toy around like a stick and absolutely show him a good time. She's also into slow stuff, and music inclusion because it's only her second life, but after that she really likes fancy bondage and lingerie, anything pretty you can wear while you're doing it all (side note Apollo likes this as well but I didn't add it to his because, when handed the option for lacey underwear or getting bit by a potential vampire...yeah I'm saying he's weak for fantasy.)

6 notes · View notes

wildcatofgreen · 1 year

Text

Nobody had called her all day.

Strange. She expected at least one call.

Maybe it was just a slow day at the 'Sphere? It can happen sometimes.

Even then, it'd be nice to get a call to hang out with Sony. Take her mind off some things.

Not that she wasn't doing so with Cory--messing with her was always fun, but...

She missed him, for some reason? Maybe she just expected a call that badly.

She really shouldn't worry about it. If he didn't call, then it's all fine. No need to worry so damn much.

She waved her sister goodbye at the end of the day--Cory said she knew how to get home from the museum. She liked the walk--or, the, hovering??? Her boots were weird. And cool. She kinda wants some like her's.

She let her sister be. She needed to think a bit, anyway.

...

Could she really tell her how she feels, after all of this time? It'd be... kind of awkward, wouldn't it?

Imagine, walking up to your best friend and former crush and going ''hi i was in love with you once okay byyyyye''. That'd be stupid. It'd elicit an awkward reaction and she'd be made fun of for it for her entire life. Stones, she didn't want to go through that kind of hell.

...But What choice did she have, really? To tell Lilac how she felt, or to have these lingering feelings grow to be worse than a nuisance. Sure, she could keep it under control now, but what if Lilac came back. She knows what she said--back at the tree house? Really, Carol?

She grimaced. Stupid, stupid wildcat. Can't have her cake and eat it, too. She just can't.

Sony's the one she wants, not Lilac. If she could keep him for forevermore, then she'd be fine! Completely fine!!!

This concept just can't stay in her head though. She's always gotta be the selfish wildcat. Always gotta say and do something stupid. Always always always.

Groaned. Fucking hell, she hated this dilemma. If she was normal, if she was fine, it'd be okay! Everything would be.

But nooooo. Carol Tea can't have that, can she? There just needs to be something, huh?

Whatever.

She's gotta think of a way to tell her. Maybe sooner, rather than later? But how soon is soon, really...?

---

"Hi Carol!!!"

Why was Milla in her room? What?

Wait was that the pipsqueak??? Why the hell...

"Heeeeey, Milla," she put a hand at her hip, squinting, "Can you please tell me what the hell you're doing?"

She and the monkey were sat on her floor, piles of papers surrounding them. Lots of written ones were at their feet, too. Couldn't parse anything from the doorway, though.

"Lady Neera asked us to study your gemerald! We had to go through aaaaaaaaaaall her notes, and then make a bunch of new ones!!!"

"Freezey buddy has lots of notes about your weird gem!!! But me and bunny buddy studied ALL OF IT!!!" The monkey boy raised his hands in the air, smiling wide and proud.

Sorry, what? "Bunny buddy?" Carol was extremely unamused, and slightly confused, by the name.

"He calls me bunny buddy now!" Milla seemed excited, at least, "It's... an improvement from earbird. We're still working on other names!"

"Riiiight, okay--can you tw--"

"OH RIGHT!" The hound shot straight up, then went over to the wildcat's desk, picking up two objects. She then walked over to her wildcat friend, a bright smile on her face. She offered the two objects to Carol--one being a small communicator, designed to be placed inside of the ear of a feline. The other, the wildcat's phone. "Lilac and Sonar have been trying to contact you all day!!!" She put a hand to her chin, one of her ears raised in the air, "I wonder why."

"Oh, okay. Thank--"

LILAC????? AND SONAR???? BOTH OF THEM???? AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME??????????

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. THIS WASN'T HAPPENING. THIS GENUINELY WASN'T FUCKING HAPPENING.

SWIPE THE PHONE AND COMMUNICATOR FROM MILLA, WALK OUT OF HER OWN ROOM AND SLAM THE DOOR SHUT.

CALL SONAR, IMMEDIATELY.

Ring, ring, ring...

Ring, ring, ri--

"Carol??? Is actually you or is it Milla again--"

"It's me!!! It's me!!!!" She was fucking trembling.

"Oh thank goodness--I thought something happened to you. Zao needed you at the Battlesphere, so I went and called you like you asked, but,"

The rest of his words failed to reach her ears.

...Holy fucking stones, she left her phone this morning. After being so confident about the calling thing. Foxtrot sierra, she's gonna...

UGH! THE ONE TIME, EVERY TIME, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME THIS SAME THING HAPPENS. STONES DAMN IT.

"Babe? You there?"

Shit, right, she was still on the phone. Complain later, Carol. This wasn't about, well, Lilac at least. She can deal with that anot--

LILAC FUCKING CALLED HER?????

"SORRY SONY, I'LL CALL YOU BACK LATER! BYE, I LOVE YOU!!!"

Click!

CALL LILAC, CALL LILAC, CALL LILAC, CALL LILAC, FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING CALL HER.

Ring, ri--

"Carol?!?!?!"

Holy shit.

Her cadence. Her tone. Her very obvious concern. She could hear it all through the telephone. She almost wanted to scream.

"L-Lilac??? That, that's you, right???"

She was still in disbelief. There was no fucking way--

"Carol!!! I'm so happy!!! I thought something happened to you, and I was really super worried, and, uh," the dragonness trailed off.

It was quiet for a moment. The wildcat eagerly awaited her friend's respo--

"Hi!!!!!"

"Hi Lilac!!!!!"

Even just hearing her voice again was music to her ears. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

"How's uh, how's the finding Merga thing, going?" She wanted to ask so many questions, so many, but she had to play it cool. Play it real cool, like she always does!

"Good! Not good, actually. I mean, seeing all the sights Avalice has to offer is really something. But I haven't found a lick of her--not yet. I might be getting close, but," she trailed off again.

Silence.

Carol swears she can hear her own heartbeat--

"SO!" She started again, laughing to try and play it off, "How is everything? How's the marriage?"

"Oh it's going gr--"

What.

"Did... What did you just say?" Trembling again. Trembling trembling trembling she did not just ask about that. Right? She misheard her, right???

"How's everything!!!!!!"

"After that!"

"How's the... m-marriage?"

Click.

How the fuck did she know about that already???

#carol's cruisings #carol's adventures #long time no see dragon girl #AAA screams #realizing that those tags are picture tags but whatever ill deal with it LATER probably #wandering dragon #grand alchemist hound

2 notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

#overhaul x reader #yandere overhaul #overhaul smut #overhaul x you #chisaki kai x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #dark content for ts #5555 event fic #not sfw text #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #misogyny for ts #bnha posting #medical kink for ts #non consent for ts #dub con for ts #non con for ts

676 notes · View notes

jovnie · 3 years

Text

The devil's desire | Yoongi

Summary;

You fell in love with a man of many pasts, however he desired more than a relationship. He wanted your soul for eternity.

Words: 13k

Devil yoongi! Demon au! Human reader

Very Dark themes

Warnings: religious concepts, gore, porn without plot, death, big dick yoongi, clubbing, kidnapping, non-con touching, blood, cnc, prey ( y/n ), stalker yoongi, drugged, drugs, chains, cutting, rough sex,

"She's almost ready sir!" a winged creature announced. Nodding in his throne, he took the mirror and looked through it. There you were getting ready to meet a mysterious guy at a club or well hoping to once again. He smirked devilishly knowing you remembered to come back to this particular club.

He previously brought you to this nightclub in Korea, hidden through an alleyway in the darkest part of Busan. There was danger and a constant fear of being robbed, kidnapped. Even if Korea was a safe place, things like kidnapping and murder still happen and even more so at night.

He remembered that you kept a knife and a taser with you, he liked the vulnerability you had going to a place not meant for angels let alone humans at night. He found it charming how oblivious you are to your surroundings as well. He was a man of darkness and hell for sure, but one thing was for sure. He only craved humans who were pure and light energetically. 'Suppose you did know that the Club was own by the devil himself, would that really stop you' he thought.

He watched her put on clothes and noticed how delicate she was in his eyes. No, this wasn't the first time he'd watch her. Not the last either, it seemed like a generational curse in his eyes. He wasn't mad he placed it on the females to feel tempted by his actions, however, each one passed the test. you however failed it the first two times, making it the third time.

Sighing, he put the mirror down and stood up. Stretching, he allowed his black feather wings to elongate and move around before putting them away. Looking at his watch it was a quarter past 11 pm, he'd knew you want to be early and try and catch a good table. However the little worry of what if someone wanted to take you before him, hurt you before him. The thoughts riled him up, making him grab his keys and wait by the portal. Besides the gate doesn't open until 11:59, so his intrusiveness can calm for now.

While waiting, he took out the cute little human hand mirror you'd gifted him a while back. He looked at himself and the scar over his left eye, "maybe this is what attracts them" he chuckled softly.

As time fastened, he waited for the lock in the air to appear. He waited long and hard for that little red lock and once it appeared, he opened all the portals from his underworld to the human world and the other one which lead stright to his club.

Formally known as 666 plaza to hadians, the chosen humans only knew it as void 218. To you it was just another club on the holy day of Sunday. Although you were never brought up with Christianity, you had the basics that everyone knew, loved, and hated.

Waiting by the gates or humanly known as "doors" you pulled out your phone to realize there was no battery or charge. Confused as you could've sworn it was full when you left, you herd the doors open and the mini line began moving. Your eyes wandered the room to find the stairs that led to the upper level where you would meet and see Yoongi. You knew it was stupid to keep doing this, but with yours and his schedule it wasn't at all.

Passing by the few people, you found upstairs and walked up seeing there were already people inside which confused you, but you paid little attention to it. Waiting by the usual black velvet seats and area, you head a familiar voice.

"Is this your regular peach vodka with light ice?" yoongi asked loudly over the now loud music playing. Nodding, you sat up and greeted him before getting your drink. Little did u know about his plans with you or what tonight was gonna be.

Smiling softly, yoongi was gentle eyes admired your beauty as he get down with his own drink. He took a sip of his own drink that was laced with a sleeping drug, one that'd do nothing to him and more to you.

"So what are you doing here?" He asked knowingly.

"Well, it's a Sunday and I have nothing planned so I thought I come by" you lied, hoping the white lie would slip. Nodding, yoongi put his hand on your thighs and moved closer to talk to you about life and each other week. You mentioned something about the campus or school you were studying and he lied about his "forensics" job and how hard it was to see how people died. Continuing, he bought the two of you more drinks and when the timing was right offered one of his. Thanking him for the kind jester, you took a sip. He smiled and also took a sip after you, then placed it back down.

"Good isn't it?" he said, reaching over to his phone and at the time. Noticing he did so you hummed and snuck another sip. Then another. Whatever was in had you almost drinking his entire cup down.

"Omg what is this, what's making it so good. I can't put my finger on it" she said as her words slowed down and her eyes blinked slowly. He watched her body start to feel tired, then at the right moment whispered in her ear "apple, cherry, lime, it's a light alchcolic drink and right, drugs."

Soon as her eyes closed and body dropped, he mustered enough strength to pick her up and sling you over his shoulder. "Another one taken by the devils favorite drink, poison apple," he whispered knowing nobody cared to stop him not could. Well not if they wanted hells punishment if not worse death, even if they were immortal. Walking up the last set of stairs he opened the portal and handed the keys to his servant and told him to look after.

Noting the girl, the servant nodded and knew the king was gonna take his time and would be in a long "meeting." Taking charge of the place, yoongi walked up to his Castle surrounded by blue flames in the middle of nowhere and walked in. He demanded for total privacy, meaning nobody in or even near the castle or be banished for eternity and with that everyone wondered what that soul did to get his undivided attention. From there gossip spread about you from one to another creature and it traveled fast.

Meanwhile, he laid you on the bed and looked at his watch. The drug last about 30 minutes and about 20minuets have gone. From there he requested one trusted worker with a list. The list was :

The devils list

Body Chains and rope

Salt and a black cross

2 Robes

Wipes

Black paint

Sheep's blood

Lube any flavor

Nodding the worker flew off and yoongi allowed his wings to expand out his back and eyes to turn a dark blue color as his hair contained white strips. He watched your sleeping body, before checking the time and seeing he has 5 minutes left before you wake up. Taking that in he stretched his neck and before activating his speed and undressing you, cleaning the area around the bed, making sure the chain locks are stable and if not changing them, turning off lights and lighting candals all around the room and the whole castle and finally sitting down at the edge. Checking the time once again, he had 3 minutes left and so did the worker before he'd get pissed and with that thought the worker came to drop everything off before yoongi told him to get lost.

With the activation of speed he quickly undressed, sat the cup near the bed and filled it with sheeps blood, put salt near the edge without touching it as it stung him, put the cross around his neck and began drawing a ritual circle around the bed then finnaly the walls. To end everything he placed the chains on your hands and feet then connected to each end of the bed. The rest of the stuff he just put next to the bed and laid naked above you waiting for you to wake up.

He knew the drug was strong, but he didnt think it was that strong so he checked the time again and 10 minutes had passed by. Sighing, he began taking the knife and cut a slit on his wrist and placed the wound to your mouth. After a few blinks, you began to wake up and within a second you panked and a minute later realised you were chained.

Weak, scared, targeted, blood covered lips, chained and his favorite vulnerability he finally felt aroused at the sight. With lust in his eyes and an aura darker than night himself, he slowly kissed your cheek.

"Welcome to hell baby" he greeted, confused you closed your eyes and for once prayed you'd be able to wake up in where you left to only get the image of him drugging you and making you pass out. To then opne them and see the same sight.

"Wouldn't that make you?" She paused trying to yank the chains.

"Hades, satan the devil or whatever you humans call me for ruling the underworld. Then yes that's me and as you see, you're caged like a bug trapped in a spider's web. How cute. How naive to trust anyone you've properly met either. " he whispered the last bit in your ear as his lips traveled around your chest and neck leaving hickeys as he moved.

Groaning, you tried yanking the chains hearing a noise and hoping it ment it broke to realise no he fooled you with the sound of his nails knocking on the wood.

"Got you" he chuckled as you began scared, moving his lips towards your breast he sucked softly getting slight moans from your mouth. "Mm good girl continue with it an d maybe I'll spare your soul" he joked, sucking and groaning your other breast with his hands. Ignoring him and forcing your mouth to close. He raised an eyebrow and sat up, he then looked at your mouth and then his length.

"That wasn't smart now was it dsrling?" He asked, as his crouch hovered your mouth and his length being rubbed on your face as the other hand rested on the wall. "Noe open wide and if not, I can allways just shove it. Dont think about biting as i can manually remove teeth of needed" he mentioned as tears rolled down your eyes as he slowly entered his length.

"Good girl, suck it like that" he groaned, slowly moving his hips all the way in and out. With doing so he admired the trlaclesnt salty wetness driping from her eyes that he took a finger and wiped it. Caressing her face as he continued thrusting and groaning till he felt hard enough and then pulled out. Wiping her eyes again he grabbed the lube and posed the non negotiable question of

"May I pretty angel, take this as mine?" He whispered softly as he leaned down to her ear. Nodding yes a tear ran and he licked it clean, causing a slight shiver down her body. "Good" he replied, putting lube around his own length and stoking it on.

"If you cum on me will I get pregnant?" You asked shyly.

"Mm, well yes and that's my goal princes or should I say queen. Your body is mine after all." he tells, taking his fingers and tracing a cross between your chest as he watches a dark mark appear in a mini cross between your chest.

Crying harder knowing you've not only been kidnapping, but there was an even little chnace of seeing your family friends and well your little pet. "I love when you cry my love" he said softly as his fingers softly rubbed against you clit and his lips attach to yours. Knowingly you kissed back and surprisingly it felt like comfort but tasted like sin and poison. One your body will soon adapt to. As your mouths moved in unison, his fingers rubbed softly around your bud and you were finally able to relax and enjoy the feeling. He had an undeniable hold on your body, one your soul started to grow a liking too the longer her rubbed and kissed your lips. Soon you became hungry for more and grinded against his hand and with the hint he rubbed quicker as you moaned down his throat and his free hand now snaking behind your back. Moaning more you called his name, in which he loved begging you to say again.

"YOONGi!"you moaned louder as his stomach and cock felt it making it twitch slightly. stoping his finger he guided his tip and put his chin on your neck and slid in slowly, taking his time as you adjusted before moving faster. You pulled the chains trying to hold onto him but he shook his head no and softly held your body up with the help of the chains and began pounding into you.

No it was not a speed nor length you were used to, but the feeling you could by a heartbeat. You legs became weak, your back arched hard, your mouth could only stay open and your head was in a daze as he fucked you without mercy. His length was big enough to make you scream from the top of your lungs and beg for more. He loved that and too started moaning which soon started to sound like deep breathes and heavy grunts. He loved the warm, pulsing feeling of your pussy on him as it dripped with cum around him.

"Ah, fuck, That's hot!" he moaned loudly. Moving his hips closer, he pushed his length in deeper and the sounds of his hips crashing into yours echoed the room. You were now at a point of no return, all you could do was moan and take him, which only increased his horniness and overall arousal.

"I'm close!" yoongi groaned and panted as his hips movements slowed down, but the deepness was still there. Shopping, yoongi's body out of tiredness fell on top of yours and he kissed your neck softly. Without enough energy to pull out, he came deep, groaning in your neck and laying still. Both overly fucked out and deep breathing, laid there until yoongi got enough energy to unchain your hands and drink from the cup of blood that started to reek and fill the room. The room that once smelt like lavender and vanilla now smelled like sex and sheep's blood. Leaning down to kiss you, you kissed back with your body begging to ache like hell and body starting to contort you screamed in pain. Whispering something into your neck, he held you close to his chest as you grabbed and scratched his back till the blood came from it.

"Submit and it'll go quickly." he whispered tired as can be. Taking his advice, you closed your body and let it take over. Suddenly your eyes and hair became white as a dove and the pain stopped. Not only did he claim you as his, the kiss of blood crowned you queen of the underworld.

They laid naked as each could no longer have the strength to get up, but hold each other in a soft hug. Comferting and relaxing, considering what had to happen. They slept wedded that night, perfectly times as the full moon was now full and the ritual circle could light up red as the two came into harmony.

237 notes · View notes

starfly-lumi · 2 years

Note

Hey!! If your asks are open- ignore if not, could I request Noel from Witch's Heart with an s/o who has a very heavy attachment to him?? to the point they'll even defend any kind of bad behavior from him? I think that'd be pretty interesting! Have a nice day and drink stay hydrated!!!!

my child is completely fine !! ♡ ⫶ SFW

˖꒰ sipnosis . . . noel is the sweetness person ever. everything he does and says is for your own good, and you know it. even if his last method wasn't… a normal one. ꒱♡

˖꒰ yan! noel levine x gender neutral! reader ꒱♡

˖꒰ warning(s) . . . delusional & obsessive behavior, delusional reader, unintentionally manipulation, dark content, blood, murder(?), established relationship & manipulation of memories ꒱♡

˖꒰ note . . . omg do you spy me??? i was just about to write something with a reader who doesn't mind having a yandere and is really casual about it, but i didn't know what characters i should use first. this is kinda like it?? i really liked this idea, thank you for requesting! I DIDN'T MEANT TO PUT MURDER HERE BTW BUT I JUST GET SO EXITED WITH THE IDEA AAAHHH. don't forget to also drink a lot of water and eat all your meals! also, sorry if you wanted any particularly gender for the reader. ꒱♡

˖꒰ masterlist . . . ꒱♡

if there's someone that loves you like anyone would, then that's definitely noel. he loved you just as much as you loved him. he was always there for you when you need him.

for you, noel was more like an angel. he was too good for this world, always trying hard for the people he love, always giving everything without expecting anything back, and you loved him.

it was perfect. he was always so kind, and he was your boyfriend. no, he was way more than just your boyfriend. you two were soulmates. made just for meet the other. you will always be thankful with the destiny to let you know he exist.

i mean, how could you not like him? even if he did the worst of the things, it surely was a lie or he had a good reason for doing it. please, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

"i wish i could see the stars with you forever… i can only hope we get the chance to see them the next night, and the night after that."

you always wonder yourself why he wouldn't be out of his room until the sun was no longer there, but you never asked. maybe he just wanted to sleep more than usual!

while you were okay with him not getting out of his room (but still mad because he skip his breakfast, witch was bad for him), sirius will usually says something about it. he may mean no harm, but it still make you mad.

sometimes, he'll have to vent. you were really okay with it, even actually pleased, because it reminded you how much he trust you.

he ends up begging you to not leave him alone, in the dark. it never fails to make you feel terrible sorry for him and all he had to go through in his childhood.

but he never told you everything. just some little things that are barely something, but still a lot more that what he will normally say to anyone. he was always too scared. but you understand, as always.

he loves you so much. he doesn't even know how he can take all this love! but he's so unsure of how to show you love.

he will always say how he loved everything about you, inside and out, and start talking about how he couldn't keep himself as happy as he is right now with you. he will do anything for you, you just have to name it.

all he needs from you is a little compliment, a "good job!". it really makes him feel better about himself. he's trying really hard to save you and claire from who is always trying to kill her.

but when things go wrong, he's really fast at saying sorry. he didn't want to show you anything that make you stay away from him. he hate it when he showed you the ugly parts of him.

"noel!" you run towards him as soon as you saw the blood in his clothes, thinking the worst. it was really late at night, and your boyfriend covered in blood wasn't your ideal night. "oh my god, a-are you okay? did something happen?! who did this?!"

he muted your name, shaking and almost crying.

"i am so, so, so sorry. pl-please, i'm sorry. i'm such a t-te-terrible lover. i'm sorry, my love, i'm sorry." he hugged you close, almost falling over you when you hold him.

"hey, no, no, no, no, no, no. you're no way a terrible lover! please, tell me if you're okay. you're covered in blood!" still hugging him, you try to look all over him to see where the blood was coming out. but when he holds you strong and careful to not hurt you, you realize that he can't be injured with this strong hold.

so, the blood isn't his.

you just stay there, like a stone, while you hear him crying.

you don't want to think anything bad about him, so you just hug him back. gently touching his hair.

it's okay, even now, he was still noel. your noel. he would never do anything bad without a reason.

it didn't matter anyways, and you knew it. when you less expect it, you will be back to your first day in the mansion. when you still thought he was nothing but a puppy who only wants you to like him.

#witch's heart x reader #yandere witch's heart #yandere witch's heart x reader #noel levine x reader #yandere noel levine x reader #yandere noel levine #yandere noel #yandere noel x reader #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #male yandere x reader

24 notes · View notes

eremiie · 3 years

Text

broken promises

❥ angst | 3.9k words | eren x armin

❥ content: none. just pure heart break.

❥ the moment you’re born your soulmates words are etched into your skin, and the moment you meet them they disappear just as fast. so when eren meets armin why don’t his words go? and why does armin have to carry the weight of a wretched life on his shoulders? surely his fate is his fault.

this fic is a rendition of chapter 139! read at your own risk

this fic is for @mikaberries 4k collab event! my word was ‘broken promises’ and my ship was eremin! enjoy<3

ty to @arlerted for beta reading this fic!

"hey, why don't you put up a fight?"

those were the first words muttered to him.

"you're wrong! i'm not losing because i don't run."

those were the first words that made the black mark sprawled on eren's wrist begin to fade away, seeping from the tan skin and sprawling like dust onto the concrete he stood on.

the first words that made the blue of armin's eyes dazzle with interest, peering over his shoulder almost tumbling over to get a fresh look at what was holding eren's interest so well.

he knew what was holding eren's interest, he's seen it before with so many people close to him, he's heard stories from his grandparents. it couldn't be happening to him though? happening so soon? i mean he was just a kid, he—

"you're my soulmate..."

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

why were his first words to him not the ones scribbled on his skin?

nevertheless, armin wanted to grasp any hope presented to him. if eren was his soulmate he'd try his best to believe him. surely it was just a glitch in the system, maybe a phenomenon never discovered. but even then it didn't matter, because how eren's eyes gleamed at his bare wrist, eyes flicking from armin to his arm, to armin, it was all the confirmation armin needed.

still, on sleepless nights, when only the moonlight would beam through the window of the barracks leaving enough light for armin to peer down at the bare skin of eren's wrist and the words i promise on his own, he couldn't help but wonder if eren was really his.

his pale hand engulfs with eren's as eren drapes his arm over armin's waist. it was so welcoming. that same hand wraps him in blankets, it cups the soft skin of armin's cheek, it adjusts armin's ODM gear, it was the hand that armin, just by the way it moves so lovingly, would've suspected belongs to his soulmate.

it couldn't have been a mistake, mistakes with things like this just didn’t happen.

"i'm yours." eren's voice would grumble against the nape of armin's neck, breath fanning over the new goosebumps formed, and hand squeezing armin's a little tighter.

armin's breath hitches, swallowing his spit before adjusting himself until he was facing eren.

his eyes were so beautiful in the dim light. armin could admire every speck of blue that would dance across the green canvas, every slight glimmer of gold that reminds armin of eren's mother. it reminds him of the same glimmer that dropped onto the cold concrete when eren was deemed his.

eren blinks, once or twice, armin can't remember because his mind drifts farther than he wants, and untangles their hands, bringing one up to armin's cheek.

it's wet, a fresh tear falling from the corner of armin's eye that eren brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

when armin leans back to give eren a one over, he doesn't remember when eren’s hair got longer, when his eyes became so dull, or when his smile became a permanent pout.

his soulmate isn't supposed to be his and he lets the thought pull him away from reality more often than not. no matter how many times eren could repeat how they were meant to be it would never feel right.

there was a barrier in between them that kept armin farther away from eren than he wanted to be. a barrier that armin pounded against, aching to break and release him from the solemn thoughts that clouded his brain.

when eren wipes another tear that shines against armin's cheek, he pushes forward on the bed, pressing his forehead against armin's and closing his eyes so armin can't see them anymore.

the simple touch, the simple gesture brings armin back to reality and he can feel that familiar longing in the pit of his stomach, the furrow in eren's brow, and the newfound wetness of his cheek.

he doesn't mean to press his forehead so hard against eren's, but the closer he is to him, the more he can feel the warmth of eren's skin. he can silence the storm inside of him. maybe if he tries hard enough and sticks close to eren that barrier would break, at least crack.

eren's palm brings armin as close as possible by the back of his head until he can feel armin breathing on his chin. armin could tell eren that he wasn't meant for him over and over again, but there was no mark on his wrist anymore, no sign that screamed armin wasn't his in his eyes. as long as his skin was a clean slate, as long as he could spend restless nights with his lover, days laying in each other's arm's under the tree as they stared at the wall longing for freedom, armin belonged to him.

"will you still be mine when you leave for marley?" he cuddles closer to eren, hands sat against his lover’s chest as he takes pleasure in his presence.

eren reluctantly nods his head and presses armin closer, a soft press of his lips to armin's nose.

"i'll still be yours."

"and you'll—"

"i'll still be yours. until we see the rest of the world together; the flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand."

armin stifles noise and sinks down from where he was against eren’s forehead until his head is in the fabric of eren's shirt, hands grabbing at the cotton so tight that eren's afraid he might tear it.

eren's shirt is getting wet but he doesn't mind. he wants to cry too.

instead, he lets his thumb smooth over the same strands of blonde hair he plaits while sitting in a field of campanulas, and lets his hand lightly ruffle the tresses he watches armin toy with, contemplating if he should cut them or not.

the next time he sees armin they're cut.

the next time armin sees eren, his eyes are duller than that night they were tangled in each other's arms.

armin barely says a word to eren on the airship, there was nothing to be said. nothing to be said when sasha died, her blood staining the wood of the ship. nothing to be said after the conversation at the table, armin's blood being wiped away by the damp cloth in mikasa's hand.

he never had a voice like eren, but when he screams at him on the floor where he sits around shards of broken glass and spilled wine as mikasa tries to get him to stand, he uses eren's own voice against him— words so passionate and spat like venom at eren that he has no choice but to turn around for a mere second.

someone who could kill so plainly and drag his loved ones along, not shedding a single tear as he goes, didn't seem like the soulmate set for armin.

but the way eren turns around, a snarl on his face that juxtaposes the gloss of a limpid tear in his eye— for a second, just for a second armin thinks otherwise.

and when he looks down at his wrist, "i promise." still haunting him, he wishes the world was kind.

ᝰ

armin slams the door behind himself, leaving mikasa alone in the gloomy storage room.

it was his fault a darkened cloud was hanging over the room, his outburst at mikasa wasn't her fault— but how could she even think about eren with all the peril happening?

his breathing is heavy and the sounds of titans are right next to his ears, pounding and stomping their way across the ocean, across the world. it was so noisy, the screams outside, people running from falling debris. he wishes the noise would cease for only a moment so he could gather his thoughts.

armin wipes at his eyes in hopes that it would stop the way his vision begins to blur. he stumbles backward using his free hand to steady himself once he hits the brick wall behind him.

truth being, no matter how little the thought was he was thinking about eren too.

he pulls at his sleeve to further hide his wrist, teeth-gritting as he fails to hold back tears that slip from his eyes and onto the floor he stood on. they decorate the stone floors in lovely splotches, darkening the grey and creating spots that'd disappear with time. but, as long as armin kept crying the least likely the evidence would simply "disappear".

"i'm tired." his voice cracks and like a broken dam tears begin to flow free, sliding down his cheeks as his skin begins to flush. he knows he can't stop them now. he can't stop the thoughts in his head or the tears staining his cheeks. he wishes to relax and be at the ocean again, staring across the waves where he finally got a taste of what freedom was before it was snatched away again. "i hate this."

no matter how hard he wipes at them, they're never-ending. why does he have to be the boy whocries? who can't defend himself, the boy with the burden placed on him, the boy with no soulmate. "i hate this, i hate this."

his knees buckle and he allows himself to slide down the wall, ODM gear clinking as it hits the floor, the wall rough as it scrapes against the material of his shirt. it's easier to block out the cries of terror outside and instead bury himself in his hands to cry for someone to release him from this stress.

he's tired of the wrenching in his heart, thoughts being solely on the one he thought was destined for him. no matter how hard he tries to think of what was most important his mind can't help but wander back to calm nights with eren. what could've been and what he wished became.

how did he fall in love with someone so wretched? and how did they make him so wretched?

his sniffles are the only thing he can hear and his tears decorate the sleeves of his shirt— just like he decorated eren's the last night his arms cradled him close.

"i hate you. i hate that we have to kill you— you're," a sob breaks his sentence, but he's thankful for it because he didn't want to finish it anyway. the next words to come out wouldn't have been true. they would've just been a fit of anger and sadness that clawed at his heart, twisting it between its grasp and trying its best to break the little hope armin had left.

"we have to kill you." is what he says instead.

what was he doing? there was no time to sob, no time to cry over someone like eren. he would heed the words he told mikasa— there was no time to think about eren, he was a lost cause.

armin unsteadily picks himself off the ground, adjusting the gear around his waist and using the back of his hand to wipe stray tears. he's lucky no one came through or went out the doors— it would've just been another open performance of his weakness and it'd be proof that erwin was the one who should've been chosen that day.

he would let eren go and he would do what he had to do to save the people around him, it was the least he could do after erwin's death.

ᝰ

when his titan is standing in front of eren's colossal titan those words mean nothing.

it's the adrenaline that tames the pull on his heart. he's so close yet so far— his soulmate, no eren, is right there but here he was doing all he could to stop him.

there's no time to relish in the past, although it flashes in the back of his head. loose memories of what eren was and the monster he’s become.

he wants to remember eren's rough palms against his cheeks again, his natural warmth he radiates while he pulls armin close as possible. but he pushes the memories to the back of his head— they were nothing but an echo now.

he has to give it his all because he's sure eren isn't thinking the same way as him.

the mosaic of him holds pieces of eren in it and it was evident by the flicker of eren's passion in his eyes when he stares him down, fists raised and only a murmur of "why did it turn out this way?" leaving trembling lips.

when he throws a heavy arm at eren it's like it all happens in slow motion; first, a pounding in his skull, causing him to close his eyes at the twinge, then a burst of light flashing over his eyes, and albeit how they stayed close a blanket of white drops over his vision.

he loses his balance and wonders if eren has knocked him out yet, until he lands on a hard surface. the pale sand is grainy under his hands and for some reason, his mind is blank. the soft whirring of what sounded like wind whips past his ears. he's calm.

armin flutters doe eyes open, adjusting to the brightness of the light in front of him. it was oddly familiar. purples, blues, and greens surrounded the striking light— and the longer he stares forth, the more it reminds armin of a tree whose branches reach for the sky. he's mesmerized. this must be what space is— stars adorning the black mural, as rays of colorful light burst over the top of armin like pops of fire being sent into the sky.

it's beautiful, and armin's reminded of earth, of the comfort of life— even in the walls. maybe this was what he believed was on the other side of the walls when he was younger, and if he sat in front of his younger self and explained the sight in front of him, telling him this is what was out there, he was sure he would've believed it.

"armin."

the blonde whips his head around, meeting a face his memories know so well.

eren's skin is illuminated by the light of paths, a gleam in such familiar green eyes that he only ever thought he'd see in his dreams. his hands are pocketed and his hair is free, laying gently against the side of his face. bags pull at the skin below his eyes and a tired smile graces his face as he puts a hand out for armin to grab.

armin wants to grab it but he recoils, scrambling to stand up on his own and dusting the sand from his hands. his eyebrows are furrowed and he's scowling at eren as he crosses his arms.

he doesn't know what to say— he doesn't know where he is. he's still mad at eren, he can't just take him to a dream-like place and think everything is okay. he's killed so many people, he's dragged his friends into what could only be described as hell, and eren didn't know the toll he put on armin's life. he couldn't just waltz into it, destroy everything, and expect armin to just talk to him again.

armin seems to always be too caught up in his thoughts because when eren's palm– that's still as warm as he remembers– presses him to eren's chest it takes him a moment too long to realize. the ends of eren's hair that graze armin's nose is something he'd never thought he'd feel again.

eren shouldn't be hugging him, but he can't push him off— it hurts.

it hurts when eren's stray tears hit the top of his head and it hurts when eren clings to armin like he'll disappear if he lets go. the cries of "i'm sorry," are all armin can hear as eren sinks to the floor in front of him, weeping tears of agony and years of pain that he was never able to share.

eren knows he caused everyone pain, and he knows what he's done is unforgivable, and although he's caused everyone so many tears, eren needs to be the boy who cries this time.

armin shudders, impending sobs trying to wrack his body. his hand cups his mouth as he drops to his feet as well. when eren glances up at him with woeful eyes, he can paint a picture with those blue flecks and glimmers of gold that he finally gets to see again. he sighs shakily and turns his head away from eren in fear of the tears he was trying to blink back from falling.

armin lets eren explain himself.

he lets eren reduce him to a complete sobbing mess. all these months of asking himself why was all summed up to him, the only question being left unanswered being why he still had words slapped across his wrist. he doesn't dare to ask about it— he's sure he already knows the answer.

"so... you're going to die?" armin asks hesitantly, scrunching particles of sand in between his hands.

"i have to. i have to atone somehow."

it's the words armin knows would slip from eren's mouth but not the words armin wants to hear. leaning forward he places his hands on eren's shoulders, a pleading look across the ocean that was his eyes. at least that's how eren would describe it.

"but maybe there's a way we can fix this!"

eren gives armin a small smile, placing his hands over armin's so gently. "armin... you think i'll be free like you once all this is over?"

armin's pleading expression fades and is replaced by a dejected one, his lips falling and his eyebrows turning upwards. "eren..."

eren pulls armin close to him, hand in his hair once more, tangling through the blonde strands and burying his nose into them. they smell just how he remembered, even with how short his hair was now— like fresh linen and the smell of the ocean that lingers even after only one visit.

"eren," his eyes screw as he bawls into eren's shoulder while wrapping his arms around him. "but you promised."

armin pulls away just as fast when the thought hits him. he grabs eren's wrist and pulls it from his hair. "you promised! you said we'd see the flaming water... the... the frozen plains and the snowfields of sand! you promised!"

eren shakes his head profusely, more tears being shed as his hands come up to cup armin's own wet face.

armin's vision is obscured by his own tears and he rests his head in the palm of eren's head, indulging in the feeling because he won't get to feel it again.

he'll remember the intimacy he shared with eren from hearing his heartbeat in his ears as he laid against his chest to tracing the skin of eren's arm to lull himself to sleep. it wasn't fair that it had to be like this. that it had to be a mere reflection of what was, but it was his fault for being so gullible.

from the day he was still left with such a taunting mark he should've known that if his mark was still etched on his wrist, eren being his soulmate wasn't tangible. he should've left well enough alone and accepted his fate, met his soulmate years from that day and lived the life he was meant to live.

maybe then he wouldn't be stuck in what was a cruel form of torture, a life that lead to show him his karma of being so greedy— of trying to hold onto whatever was sent his way. he wasn't even supposed to be here right now.

yet, here he was, eren pressing his lips to armin's forehead, both of his cheeks, his nose and then a last tender one to his lips. although armin struggles to reciprocate them, eren can understand that they were received.

"you go, and you see all of those things without me because even when i'm not here the freedom you're granted is proof of me."

shaky hands reach to place themselves over eren's. "you promised."

"i'm sorry."

"eren, you—"

"i'm sorry."

to armin, it was confirmation that him and eren weren't meant to be. soulmates just weren't like this. he wouldn't have his mark, there wouldn't be so much hurt, and the promise eren shared with him would've been fulfilled.

armin refused to believe that his soulmate is eren.

he couldn't wonder who would come after eren when someone like eren existed. he couldn't fathom who else would put their life on the line like eren did not only for him but for everyone around him. who else would fight like eren did, all for selfless reasons.

whoever was eren’s true soulmate has to be the saddest yet happiest person on earth, to have a destined one like eren yet never be able to acknowledge him.

he'd come to terms with eren's fate, and he'd move on— after all what he thought was his fate was never meant to be.

eren pulls armin to a standing position and using the sleeve of his coat he wipes both him and armin's faces.

"i love you."

armin takes in eren's features, noting them down so he'd be able to remember them forever— even after he's gone.

"i love you too."

stepping forward, eren takes armin's hand in his own. "i'll be with you every step you take away from those walls and i'll be with you everywhere you visit."

it's hard to hear, but armin still manages to nod his head.

"i promise."

eren and everything around him begins to fade. he's trying to piece him together in his mind— create a solid memory to cherish forever.

the world around him fades and he's back on a sad dirt ground, palms stabling him as he begins to get up, mikasa walking towards him with the remnants of eren in her hands.

when he reaches for eren's head, it's only then he notices the words that his eyes used to linger back to every few hours are gone.

armin didn't realize when the words on his arm began to faintly glow and bleed because at the same time he was picking pieces of eren up and placing them together to create a firm picture that he wouldn't forget.

pale skin was the only thing left in its path— and when his eyes flit back to eren he sees his soulmate. for the first time he's sure of it.

“paths...” armin mutters to himself as his hand smooths over the cooling skin of eren’s face.

this eren existed in paths where time is nonlinear— speaking armin words for what could have been the first as long as he continued to reside in them. “he said it in paths…” he says shakily, and he winces at his own voice.

time wasn’t linear in such a void, and eren had spoken the short sentence on his wrist into existence long before armin knew.

eren was his soulmate.

his soulmate who he was supposed to see the world with; flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand.

his soulmate who set him free yet he'd rather be chained to for the rest of his life if it meant he could wake up with him everyday.

his soulmate who he doubted so heavily, transfixed on two words that plagued his whole being.

his soulmate who didn't even know broke his heart, broke their promise.

"you promised."

248 notes · View notes

rosepetalwings · 2 years

Note

(kicks down your door) i hear you are a connoisseur of gaster + rouxls or something?

template

WHY, YES THE FUCK I AM!!! thank u for kicking down my door, please have a seat! oh no, just leave the splinters n stuff there, just sit and i'll start on some coffee for u uwu

literally its a godtier ship and i need u guys to understand how good it is or else i'll scream

firstly, taking into account their characters: they're both overdramatic silly dorks. with rouxls, its kind of self explanatory. that's his whole deal! "but spooky, how ever is gaster similar to rouxls in this fashion?" i hear you cry in concern like a sickly bedridden victorian era child from the ether, while i wonder how people are yet still finding my house to talk about a ship,

WHAT is more dramatic than that line? everyone presumes this to be gaster, yes? and he sounds like a big dork!! he sounds like a goofy DM having a blast thrusting upon u his newest plots he spent a week planning before u all met for this round of DnD! and from this, and the "gash weaves down as if you cry" poem, i really do believe gaster isnt going to be some senseless Big Bad, but rather, a man... a flawed man but a man nonetheless.

he is not a good man, if we are to believe he's orchestrated many things in deltarune, but i hardly believe he's doing it out of like. some innate cruelty or Evil quality or anything like that. i think he has a reason for his actions, and he feels very strongly about achieving his goals like this, even if he's going about it in a Presumably bad way... he is just a man... and i can empathize with that...

now, i know you're probably wonder Why And How this fucking Worms For Brains duke of puzzles complements him in a way that'd make me want to die on this hill of a ship. yeah rouxls is a favorite of mine but i really think they have a hidden depth to them thats beyond crackship territory! (and lest ye be reminded, fellow fandom Olds, papyton had originally started as a "crackship" itself despite its popularity now)

to start: lets talk about rouxls kaard, duke of puzzles

rouxls... is a strangely complex character, the more you look at him past his hilarious failures. he's... utterly fucking ridiculous with that speech quirk of his but lancer LOVES him despite not being his "real" dad. and when rouxls outright denies all connection to him and complains about the young Jack to the heroes? interesting. even more interesting when he admits some level of care/love for the boy shortly after.

rouxls is petty, vindictive, a liar, dramatic, and hates being wrong but... lancer loves him. and rouxls loves him back. he's stated to be the one that cooks and cleans in the castle, and is implied to have knitted that lacy scarf you can buy for ralsei and therefore helped lancer knit those itchy beanies for the puzzle guys, and gives lancer ginger ale when he's sick. he's literally the new step dad. he presumably finds it hard to claim parenthood over lancer but he DOES love lancer and cared for him more than spade king was implied to...

moreover, rouxls seems desperate to be the number 2 to someone's Big Bad again. that was pretty plainly stated in chapter 2. and who are we thinking's gonna be the secret villainous character (thats probably mostly alright if he stopped doing fuckshit) of DR? oh gaster? oh alright.

so we have 2 overdramatic, presumably villainous men that are probably not as bad as initially thought that most definitely have a chance to interact through one of them's need to be someone's high level henchman to feel fulfilled and that previous relationship of the same exact kind was implied to be Kinda Gay through certain framing and theyre both elegant goths and care a lot abt their goals and are dorks and one of them could help the other Fucking Dominate at engineering puzzles?

oh okay. new ship i'll fucking die for ig!!

#rouxlster #gasterouxls #spooky has mail #deltarune #utdr #rouxls #rouxls kaard #delta rune #wd gaster #w.d. gaster #gaster #safeutdr

36 notes · View notes

jinnwenhe · 3 years

Text

regarding romance!

╒══════════════════╕

Used artwork credits

Hop

Bede

Leon

Raihan

╘══════════════════╛

———☆️

Hop🍀

It started as the cliché love story about falling in love with your very own bestfriend

Which, actually turned out great??

His Zacian/Zamazenta loves you as much as it's trainer does, and is willing to protect you from anything

Probably because it observed Hop being protective over you, and proceeding to do the same

Sure it might took a toll on him when you defeated him on the championship semi-finals, but he wanted you to be happy more than anything

He's such a sweetheart even if he doesn't show it much

The type to appreciate small little things, especially when it comes from you

"Let's camp together!!"

You camped together

He got chased by a wild steelix whilst trying to gather data for his research later

His Zamazenta/Zacian was busy playing with your own legendary

*from the distance* "GAH! HELP!"

You ran after him and calmed down the wild steelix

Then you walked to him and checked if he got any wounds or scratches, which leads you to cupping his face gently with a worried look on your face

Hop's blushing

He's freaking out inside

You didn't notice the tint of blush dusting his cheeks,which gradually reddens with each second that passes

"im okay, dont worry" he tried his best reassuring you

Even though he's blushing, he proceeded to press his forehead gently against yours, closing his eyes and smiling

oh no he's cute

You're blushing

haha blushy reader

You let him do his thing, its somewhat calming

He's warmm

His hands are calloused, different from yours; you just remembered this when he placed his hand on top of yours while you were checking for his wounds from before

This just shows how much he's been working off to reach the champion title

And yet he's completely alright with you taking the spotlight

After all, you're his shining star

And he wouldn't have it in any other way

You let him borrow your champion cape

And he lets you borrow his labcoat

It fits just right with you! And it got his scent, which calms you down whenever you're feeling anxious

When you wear his labcoat, you're 1000000000% irresistible to his eyes

"Don't be so adorableee" he said as he pulled you into a hug and burying his face in your neck

You only laughed softly at his reaction. He was blushing too,,,

You often waited for him to finish his lab work, even if it's until late hours

He's a really hard worker, no wonder he stayed until late

"Im sorry for making you wait"

He looks exhausted, but tried his best to pull a bright smile, not wanting to worry you

You only gave him a warm hug, which surprised him at first before he hugs you back and proceed to walk you to your house

💓💓💓 < your heart

Comfort time

There's usually some jerks who'd tease you for being the champion, or flirt with you in an impolite way

If Hop caught on to this, he would politely ask them to leave

If they still dont understand, his legendary comes out of his pokeball and growl at them

He'd ask them one more time to stop bothering you, but this time, with a menacing smile that says "stay here any longer and you wont get to see another daylight"

Then he'd check up on you, asking if you're alright, if they did anything to you or whatnot

Hed wrap his arms around your waist and drape his labcoat over you, because he knows his labcoat always manages to calm you down

"It's okay, you're okay, everything is alright now, c'mere"

You let him hug you as you feel safe around him, and you two stayed in that position until you feel alright again

💕💕

———☆️

Bede🍰

He's not the best at showing affection but at least he tries

You help him come out with quizzes for his gym challenge

And sometimes joke about the poses he makes when practicing

Sometimes, he gets reminded that you're the champion of Galar and he's way out of your trainer level

Which actually motivates him to become the strongest gym leader there is by pushing past his limits

"I'll show you how strong fairy types can be"

He said to himself as he was thinking about you

People kept misunderstanding fairy types after all, and thats a big mistake

You appreciate his efforts in maxing out his strength, and you show it by coming to his fairy stadium whenever he battles a challenger

You texted him "good luck, I'll be cheering 4 u!❤️❤️👍" before his matches start

And you looked at his direction after sending the message

He has just gotten your message, and opened it

Which leads to him blushing furiously as he covers his face with one of his hands

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, only to fail miserably when he saw you looking at his direction with pure ambition and determined eyes as you grinned happily

All that i could say is, he's red as a beet

He wont lose this match, not when you're watching him.

He puts extra effort when you're watching his match, and made sure not to slip up. It'd be embarrassing if he did.

Opal notices this and only smiled seeing her successor acting out of his place whenever you're around

Opal knows something that you dont, and that's Bede's feelings for you

After his match ended, his Hatterene walked towards your direction, pulling you into a tight hug

You were surprised, but apparently Hatterene has grown to like you ever since she first met you

And when you look at Bede's direction, he was looking away with his arms crossed infront of his chest, visibly drowning in embarassment

,,,you wondered, is Bede projecting on his Hatterene or what,

Yes, yes he is

So you asked him if he also wants a hug, which of course he answered with "Why would i want a hug from someone like you? That'd be an insult to me"

You let go of Hatterene and hugged him anyways

He flinched when you hugged him, not knowing where to put his hands and just let them stay still in a defensive pose

Hatterene watched with a smile from behind you, seeing her master in such a flustered state was truly something new for the Pokemon

Not long after, Bede finally let his arms wrap around your waist, giving in to his subconscious and just hug you

he wanted to hug you anyways so thats a win win situation

You were actually surprised when he hugged you back

He smells nice!! Like perfume?? Cologne?? Floral scent

His Hatterene decided to join in and wrapped her arm around you both, making you all hug even more tightly

Bede cant handle this well.

No, not at all.

His face was really red and its hot— in all honesty, its cute, but he was burning

"Why do you have to embarrass me like this?"

You buried your face in his neck, which startled him as he couldn't think at all

"Y-you!!"

He feels nice and soft, so you're not planning to let go any sooner, likewise with Hatterene.

Bede's mind: ASDFGHJKL????—GODDAMMI—

OKAY NOW COMFORT TIME

His true nature would come out when you're not feeling yourself or when people would makw you feel like shit

"Hey.."

His face shows concern, but it still his usual look of coldness— however, his actions are warm despite his cold features

He'd let you wear his coat as he battles anyone who dared to hurt you

"Are you alright now..?"

He cupped your face and made you look at his face, swiping off the tears that stained your face with his thumbs delicately

He hated seeing you cry, and he'll try better next time to make sure you didn't cry

———☆️

Leon🌟

He's kind at all but sometimes he's just... "???????"

Training!! Dates!!

More like battle tower dates because he really admires your strength as a champion

Occasionally, he'd visit your house and check up on you, wondering if you're free for the day for "quality time"

At first, he was surprised to see one of the legendaries answering the door for you

And he couldn't resist to ruffle it's hair

your legendary on the other hand was kind of irritated by it

So it let out a displeased howl

Which leads you to come down stairs and see who is it

"L—leon?"

He looked up and greet you with a goofy grin as your legendary returned to your side, walking with you

He treats you like a gentleman, and sometimes is very strict with your training regimen

In which you usually whine about because you're the current champion and you have no business listening to him

But he'd swoon you with lovely words

And you would easily fall for it

you hate this

You hate him

No you dont

You love him, you could never hate a goofball like him anyways

Hey did i ever mention Leon's sense of direction is shitty

You went on a date in Wyndon a couple of times and he still gets lost everytime

"Ah!! Hey—....."

"Im lost again aren't i?"

He tried to find his way back to you but got surrounded by paparazzis

Even if he's not the current champion

You saved his butt since he couldn't say no to the people and his fans

He said thank you and hugged you, lifting you up to the air before pulling you close to him

This only made you laugh softly as you hugged him back, letting your fingers comb his thick lavender like hair

His body is warm and comforting, you really like his cuddles and hugs

He came into your house one time when you didn't answer his calls or messages, only to find you drown in your anxiety and self loathing

He pulled you in his arms and let you cry on his shoulder until you're all done and alright again

He'd draw circles over your back and tell you reassuring words— tell you that you're more than enough and he's grateful to have you here, alive and well

Your Zacian/Zamazenta got out of it's pokeball and helped you in calming you down too by giving you small licks on your knee

It'd whine whenever you're sad and climb onto your bed, nudging your arm afterwards as if it's asking what's wrong

You're lucky to have them both whenever you need them the most, and they're lucky to have you

———☆️

Raihan 🐲

It's finally the Character y'all been waitin for, dragon boi coming through

Okay serious talk here— Raihan is TALL

His hoodies makes you look smaller than you already are

You tried copying his "Gaooo~" pose a couple of times while wearing his hoodie

Its cutest thing he has ever seen his entire life

It makes him melt everytime

Okay aside from that, he's gentle and laid back, even if his personality is quite the opposite when he's on battle

He's cLINGY ASF

Don't forget his fangs, never forget his fangs

You're actually curious about his fangs since the first day you saw him

And he lets you touch it whenever you like

Youre still curious, because what the hell, its so cool

The first day you saw him after defeating him in a match and gain your gym badge, he immediately took an interest in you and your strength

"Hey Challenger!"

He called you before you tried to take your leave, gaining your attention

He then asked you if you want to practice with him next time, and have a rematch when you've become the champion

You agreed and exchanged numbers

What can i say, he spams you like?????? A lot

And casually sends you pictures of him and his duraludon

You love his dragons, especially flygon

Flygon loves you too, and one time it wanted to come with you

Raihan lets you keep his Flygon and you send him pictures of you with it

He sends emotes of duraludon crying, wanting to join you and your fun trip with Flygon to grab the Champion title

After you took the Champion title, Raihan greeted you with a big hug

And you hug him back with no hesitation

"Congratulations, may i have a selfie with the new Champion?"

He asked in a teasing manner, letting you down on your feet as you nodded

You took a selfie selfwith him numerous times before he posted it to his social media

He captioned 'First person to get a selfie with the new Champion'

He took pride in that, and some of his fans were jealous that you managed to get a selfie with him

From that day onwards, he'd have casual selfies with you, sometimes hilarious one and sometimes its just for showing off

You didn't mind it really, he's a celebrity anyways, so you understand why he does that

"Hey.. do stars have feelings"

It was three am what the fuck Raihan

You squinted at your screen seeing his message

"Why in the Galar would you be awake, dear Dragon tamer?"

You answered him

And immediately he answered "oh? The Champion is awake?"

You guys didn't sleep afterwards and was sending streaks of blurry selfies

It was fun and helped you cheer up

You got some of his blurry pics that he captioned "party rock in the house" when clearly its just him and his pokemons

What a goofball pt.2

You love him anyways shut up

Haha smol reader pt.2

544 notes · View notes