#my reaction to the second? not to be callous but it was to be surprised at OP's reading comprehension

[nalyniavadelletargaryen]

{ TWIN FLAME - Aegon Targaryen + Rhaegar Targaryen }

{ SUMMARY/PREVIEW CHAPTER }: Twins carry a shared soul, a force that only exists between them. One may pull, and the other may push, but by fate's hand, they’ve been conjoined by a shared will for power. The elder strays from the path of morality while the younger strides upon it with just as much pride. Both men share a desire: an attraction to what they are forbidden to have.

{ WARNINGS }: MDNI + SMUT + ANGST + TARGCEST + AGE GAP + BLOOD + LANGUAGE + VIOLENCE + NIECE/FEM READER + MATURE THEMES

{ PRESS ▶️}:

"To war then!"

Aegon's voice rang loud and clear through the council room, setting unease on those who sat on either side of him, but one man remained unmoved by his heady announcement.

Rhaegar smirked, a broad amusement in his expression, "Good..."

The two men share a fulfilled grin; the elder is pleased to see his dark-haired half so encouraged by his decision.

They'd never agree on most things, but inciting rightful violence to achieve personal satisfaction was a common interest.

However, you were another exception to their differing worldviews.

Aegon slid down into his chair, glancing away from his second younger brother to eye the men and his mother, who sat in tense silence. "You are all dismissed..." he left no room for debate on the command. Alicent swallowed hard, holding back the words of wisdom she knew neither man would listen to, and with a slow exhale, her anger dwindled to plain discouragement.

Rhaegar did not shrink under her turning gaze. Unmoved by her silent plea for help, he was firmly comfortable in his seat as she and the rest of his brother's councils rose from their seats.

"Arrogance.." she mumbled bitterly, walking past him with a swiftness he and Aegon had learned to overlook.

"They refuse to act and fear a war that's already started," Rhaegar spoke freely when the last council member had stepped out, the doors to the room slammed shut by the king guard on watch, and a moment of shared silence short-lived between them. Aegon scoffed loudly, a smirk plastered on his face, "That's quite obvious, brother. Our mother intends to be timid about bloodshed. It's quite pathetic." He tossed his hands up in apparent disbelief, shaking his head at the thought of the woman who'd so proudly pushed him to be sovereign now seeking a quick end to a great conflict, and Rhaegar shared his disdain for the anomaly that was their mother.

"She'd sooner trust the gods with our fate than be reasonable. I don't see why you keep her at this table.."

Aegon eyed his twin, his face dropping to a callous frown. "As relieving as it would be to put her aside, you know well how our mother would never cease prying into our dealings with or without permission."

A more accurate statement had never left his elder brother's lips, and Rhaegar was impressed by him for a solemn second.

"Hm. It's surprising to hear you, of all people, see my side of reason." He chuckles, taking a brave gulp from his wine chalice. "Need better spirits at a time like this," the brunette bit out, tongue-numbing from the dull sting of alcohol in the wine, and his observation drew an offended reaction from Aegon

"It's the best drink to my taste." His amusement faded quickly on the premise of his preferences being questioned. "Do you take issue with me-"

Rhaegar laughed, a hearty sound that eliminated anything his twin was apt to spit out, "Oh, don't you dare twist my words, brother!" He set his cup down with a firm shake, grinning wide as Aegon glared at him directly.

"You speak too freely, Rhaegar.."

His laughter halted, grin falling to a closed smile as he relaxed into his chair at the end of the unoccupied table, "I speak what I think, Aeg. Which is much more than you can offer..."

The silence returned, filled with mounting animosity between a brother of pride and another of worthy praise.

A king and a warlord.

A rake and a hidden saint.

Made of one blood but with many contrasts in life.

Silence and lingering hate connected them.

Aegon poised to further it with a heady retort, greedy for triumph in a conflict many knew to be brotherly rivalry, but a solid rap of knocking on the closed council doors stopped him.

Rhaegar raised a brow at the sound, intrigued rather than annoyed as his brother seemed to be.

"They've come back for another debate so soon?" He chides out loud, unbothered by Aegon's grimace.

"Bothersome imbeciles..."

The knocking came again, quicker and louder. Each tap was executed with an exciting pace, different from the slow, solid thumps of a man readied to spill his thoughts on warfare.

Aegon hesitated to allow the visitor entry, glancing at his brother, who already had his eyes on him.

"They seem eager.." he mumbles, finishing his wine without care for his brother's exasperated sigh.

"Enter..!" Aegon announced, taking a gulp of his drink and sucking his teeth at the bitter taste.

The king's guards swung the doors open, nodding their heads to the culprit of the sudden interruption. "Thank you, Ser Lanis and Ser Daleon." Your gentle voice cut through the air in a familiar cadence, alerting the two men of your presence before you came into their direct view.

Both knights showed you a grateful smile, quick to shut the doors again as you paced up the steps leading to the nearly empty table. Rhaegar greeted you first, smiling as he reached a hand for your own. You gave him the courtesy, slipping a hand into his open one, returning his smile as he placed a chaste kiss on the back.

"Niece..." he muttered against your skin, his voice tender and hardened eyes softening completely as you swipe your fingers along his jawline affectionately. "Uncle," you greet him back, chest tightening with pure delight when he chuckles upon hearing it. However, your shared moment abruptly ended as Aegon called you.

"You'd leave your King unnoticed, sweet girl?"

He did not attempt to mask his jealousy, and you yelled at it with practiced grace. "No, my King. You'll always have my attention." You show him a smile, not afraid to roll your eyes at him as you step away from Rhaegar and stride towards him.

Aegon is far less cordial when greeting you, standing from his seat to look down as you bow to him. You are respectful in your initial approach and stand up straight when he rests a hand under your chin. "I'll hold you to that, princess," he lowered his voice as if to tell you a secret, and you merely hum sweetly in response, accepting the lingering kiss he placed on your cheek. Unlike his brother, Rhaegar could hold his tongue to some restraint, seeing you receive affection from his counterpart.

However, it did not last long as Aegon stepped closer to you, clearly set on keeping your attention on him and him alone.

"Why have you come here?.." Rhaegar poised the question in earnest curiosity, satisfied to see it gain your focus and ruin his brother's apparent intentions. You shifted away from your eldest uncle, looking between him and his nearly identical half before divulging why you'd found your way into the council room.

You never seemed to stay away from either of them long enough, with little motivation not to when your mother had urged you to do so longer than you could recall. By consequence, you'd been left in their care at the turn of your grandfather's death, present at his side the night before he took his last breath in hopes of keeping him company since your mother could not manage it. Still, with little warning, you'd found yourself in opposition with your closest kin by association.

You found your position to be a cursed blessing. I'm glad to be within reach of the men you cared about most besides your older brothers; you were highly aware of the danger the nearing conflict of birthright claims would surely bring.

You tried hard not to reminisce about the war's aftermath, keeping yourself observant yet pliable in the grip of the Green faction.

Even as you stood in the presence of the men you'd grown to trust despite all outside protests, their very existence reminded you of fate's tricky hand.

"I've come for your help." You tread carefully with words, pacing them to carry on your voice softly, knowing well what a simple change of tone could do to either man. Rhaegar sat up straighter, eyes never leaving you as he inquired for a better understanding of your intended words.

"Our aid for what, ..?" You paused, hearing the doting nickname he'd chosen to call you since your first encounter, resolve to melt a little as he followed it with a reassuring smile.

Feeling Aegon resting a hand on your lower back did not keep your heart racing slower, his firming touch stealing your train of thought for a split second, but one glimpse at the head seat he'd been sitting in only a moment ago brought your sense back to you.

They had been your weakness for far too long, filling a craving for experience and attention you couldn't satisfy in your mother's household, but now the time for a stronger mindset was needed.

Your mother deserved the seat Aegon so proudly claimed now; no matter your love for him and Rhaegar, you intended to see her in it, and with a steadying inhale, you continued with your mission to do so.

"I've been...having some trouble finding peace as of late. Especially at night, the masters can't find a remedy for my issue.."

Sleep. You hadn't been able to rest since the coronation, and it was no help that both men had made it a point to create boundaries with you that hadn't existed before. You'd grown accustomed to seeking one or both out for a good night of sleep, never having to exchange any flesh for the security they provided, but not above laying your head on their pillow to dream of it.

Aegon smiled at you, his hand on your back sliding in a small circle as if to ease your strife as minimal as it seemed to him, and you flashed him a grateful upturn of your lips in return.

"I...I had hoped that either of you would give me peace of mind. I'm aware of many things but still am left in the dark in the light of the most important knowledge."

Your heart sank as the faces of your brothers, mother, and father crept past the forefront of your mind. Every single one of them dawned an expression of distant concern, so clearly betrayed. Imagine their reaction to the news of your lingering presence with the side of the family who had no right to the throne, which made your stomach twist with knots.

You wanted to get back to them, to be beneficial even if they'd never considered acknowledging you as applicable. Yet, as you implemented a plan to find your way back to them, you couldn't feel entirely confident in their presumable welcome when you did return.

Jace might be the only one who'd be genuinely happy to see you again and not hold a dormant grudge towards you for staying at the late King's side and inevitably supplanting yourself as a hostage for the Greens.

Rhaegar studied you, sensitive to the minor details of your request, discerning every word you spoke on instinct to hang onto each one.

"You wish to know of your place in..." he waved a hand, motioning to the air of war that loomed closer and closer with each passing day, and you nodded tentatively at his gesture. "Yes...or at least if I'm to be used as leverage..."

Your blunt reply cuts through both of them differently. Aegon glares, momentary anger consuming him as he inches closer to you, head lowering so that his voice reaches your ear directly. "You are safe with me. Here in my..." he hesitated, meeting Rhaegar's observatory gaze before finishing his quiet declaration, "...in our protection. That I can swear to you with certainty ."

His noticeable overconfidence peaked through his tone, and your anxiety was anything but calmed by his promise. Your chest lightened from relief, knowing he still harbored adamant devotion to your well-being rather than wishing to use it as an advantage over your mother.

Rhaegar held a similar attachment to you, expressing it with less egoism than Aegon did through an even response. "Our opinion of you has not changed. You shall be kept here in fair respect."

He stood from his chair, leaving his chalice with it as he came to stand on your unattended side.

Your gaze automatically shifted to him, struggling to stay there as Aegon's burned into you with unabashed envy. "You have the King's word and mine," he passed a thumb over your cheek, speaking directly to you as if his brother did not exist inches from you just as he did. Your breath caught in your throat, heat rising to your face and spreading to your lower belly as he took his time gauging your reaction.

"Let that be the answer to your questions. War plans are nothing for a young girl like yourself to be concerned with, understood?"

Rhaegar pressed you into submission with a tailored ease, pairing the underlying demand with a lazy smile that never failed to make your head spin. You bit back your own, nails digging into the draped sleeves of your dress as you clasped your hands behind you.

Of course, he'd seen right through you, cut off your prying for knowledge like any intuitive man of his nature would, and you desperately wanted to push past the restrictions he intended to set up. Still, the possibility of appearing too apt for valuable information made you hold your tongue.

You swallowed the pride, bubbling up to spill from your lips, pressing them into a small smile as you nodded in agreement. "I understand, uncle."

Rhaegar hummed in satisfaction, not bothered by his brother's palpable disdain. "She knows better than to ask us for such details, brother. You needn't mold her to be compliant." Aegon tugged you closer to him, hugging your side and making no move to let go.

You went still in his embrace, familiar with it, but not all pleased with how he spoke of your intentions or concerns.

Stupidity and obliviousness were never your strong suits, and having been pushed to the side and ignored by so many throughout your life made it easy for you to play on those faults better than most.

Rhaegar had grown wiser to your act sooner than Aegon, mentioning nothing of your love for secrets and manipulation to anyone in the simple efforts to bring you to heel at the direst times.

This was the perfect opportunity, and if his all-powerful brother could realize your intentions too, he could have the chance to relish in the delight Rhaegar did seeing your innocent facade falter. Aegon remained unwise to it, resting his chin on your shoulder after placing a ginger kiss on the exposed skin as a wordless apology for his younger's implication.

"No soul in this castle is out to get my throne, Rhaegar. Not my darling girl, anyway..." You shuddered against him as he kissed behind your ear, feeling the smile on his lips as he hugged you tighter. A blush painted your cheeks as his hands kneaded your waist through the fabric of your dress. This openly lustful action brought butterflies to your stomach and agitated Rhaegar to the point of impulsivity.

"Pawing at your niece is unbecoming of you, brother..." he made no effort to mince his words, mirroring Aegon's glare as you lowered your head in slight embarrassment. "She has yet to tell me to stop. It seems to bother you more than it does her..." Aegon chuckled at his blatant mocking, nipping at your ear to earn a soft whine and solidly his claim.

Rhaegar held his stare, failing to withhold an equally rousing laugh before lowering his head to meet yours. He found your eyes with his own as he spoke to you softly.

"Come to me.."

He says it only once, and you react with little thought, longing to feel him like Aegon held you. Your body shifted toward him, one step eliminating the space he'd maintained, and your lips found him with little hesitation or shame. Aegon grunted a scathing curse as you reached for his dark-haired twin, leaning back into him as the younger wrapped a hand around your throat, deepening the kiss with the slip of his tongue into your mouth. Rhaegar peered at his brother as you moaned against his lips, a smirk tugging at him the entire time.

"Bastard..." Aegon grumbled, refusing to show the shreds of amusement he felt seeing you crumble at the simplest pleasures, drooling trickling down your chin, and your weight pressing against him as the emanates of sense left you. It came as no surprise to Rhaegar when the older raised a hand to tangle in your hair, pulling on it so you had no choice but to break away from the heated kiss and his low whine of pain.

You let out shallow breaths, afraid to look into either of their eyes as you tried to compose yourself and ignore the needy warmth culminating in your belly. Aegon turned your head to him with subtle force, taking in the dazed expression on your face, the gradual swell of your plush lips, and the gloss of combined spit that lingered on them.

"Open." He commands in one breath, smiling when you do just as he asks and part your lips for him. He steals a glance at Rhaegar, smug as ever, and spits into your mouth with natural ease, turning his gaze back to you as it slides down your throat with a quiet whimper of his name. His lips come to meet your then, slow and harsh. A complete contrast to his brother's swift and sweet approach. He bites at your bottom lip, drowning in the muffled groan you give at the blooming pain he inflicts, returning it with a timid nip on his.

Your lungs burn for a breath. Aegon won't let you catch, so you peek at Rhaegar for help. You are torn between gratitude and confusion as he tightens his grip on your throat before using it to pull your lips away from his brothers and back to his.

He lets you go when your eyes water with tears, allowing Aegon to turn you around in his arms and hug you close. "It's been some time since we shared you, little one..."

It's a statement. It is a clear fact that you have no will to deny. Too lost in your head to respond appropriately or notice Rhaegar sitting in the nearest council chair. He lounges in it leisurely, head resting on one hand as he watches Aegon's hands begin unlacing your dress strings with unconscious finesse. You find your bearings then, feeling increasingly vulnerable as the eldest of them unties your bodice and steps forward until you have no choice but to be within his twin's reach.

"You've been so faithful and well-behaved for us, too. We'd hate to see you left unrewarded for that. Wouldn't we, brother?" Aegon eyed the brunette over your shoulder; a bittersweet smirk reflected as he nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't be very fair to her at all..." he speaks lowly compared to his brother's boastful tone, deeply embedded in his desires at the sight of your bare skin being exposed to him as your bodice slips to the stone floor.

You shiver as the air douses your skin, breasts pressed to Aegon's clothed chest, and the warmth he emits prompts them to be sensitive and pertinent. His hands find your sides again, steadying you in his hold while Rhaegar rips the fabric of your skirts. He does the same to your small clothes, letting them fall atop the torn clothing. "Wouldn't be very fair to us either."

A/N: A cliffhanger on a smut?... yeah, I know. I'm sorry, but I must lead you guys on before giving you the complete filth of it all...

{ BONUS CONTENT + }

Credits to creator and I literally watch this edit on repeat …it’s so fucking good ;) 🖤

[thequeenofsarcaasm]

I have some questions about geto. 1. Isn't it strange that he wants to kill his parents like I think he didn't kill his whole family but he specifically killed his parents I think geto's parents weren't that nice I think geto had a difficult childhood. 2. There are 2 scenes where I find Geto's reaction strange. When Amanai hugs his maid and says he loves her, he reacts like he's never seen that before. and the second scene when yuta says he likes rika and kisses her geto makes a surprised reaction and i find that strange. Do you think geto wasn't born into a loving family that's why he had these reactions in these scenes? 3. do you think we will have a story about geto's past one day?

Geto was an only child so he didn’t have many people to kill. Maybe he had a few uncles or aunts somewhere but there was probably no point in killing them. Why? Because he didn’t particularly care for them.

My theory is that he killed his parents to convince himself to keep following the path he put himself on by massacring the village, to destroy the only thing that still kept him bound to non sorcerers. He probably did so because he valued them.

Gege being the stingy bastard that he is, didn’t give us anything about Geto’s background and probably won’t but it’s not crazy to assume he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents. Even so, I think he killed them because he valued them. But that’s just my theory.

Now, idk about you but I’d probably be surprised if I saw a boy kiss a curse. That’s just me though.

The Riko thing is interesting because remember what he told Kuroi when she said Riko lost her parents. To Geto, family isn’t about blood. Family is about love and that’s an idea that he pushed to its extreme when he killed his own parents and adopted the girls. Foreshadowing maybe?

He’s like the Mother of a house, but in evil. Take Blanca from POSE, inject some mischief and genocidal idea inside her veins. Or maybe Elektra? Idk. Elektra was mean as fuck sometimes. Geto wasn’t callous to his family.

What would his house be called though?

Any ideas?

[just-some-friendly-fun]

"You're Not My Bi-Han,"

Heads up! OC x Canon stuff!!

I've been thinking about Feng-Shi and Bi-Han for the last couple of weeks (and months probably) but the new season that's come out with Dark Sub-zero definitely sparked something within the back of my brain. So, I decided to write up just random headcanons of how Feng-Shi would react and vice-versa, especially with a mentions of what their Feng-Shi from their timeline was like.

★ Meeting Dark! Bi-Han

Upon first interaction, Feng-Shi was a little more than taken aback by this... "Evil" version of Bi-Han, and it'd be a lie to say if she wasn't the least bit worried about the idea that her Bi-Han could become anything like this one.

Cold, callous, not a single bit of remorse. Feng-Shi believed that this dark version of Bi-Han as a collective of every of Bi-Han's worse traits taken to new heights and it definitely drew concern out of her. He was everything her partner was and wasn't, at least she didn't want to believe it.

It wouldn't take her to realize and say with defiance as the cryomancer would step forth that, he wasn't her Bi-Han. She wouldn't, she'd refuse to see any bit of Bi-Han in this figure, and if anything. She'd see him as a threat, even if he shared the same face as her partner.

Wheras for Dark!Bi-Han's reaction to seeing canon timeline Feng-Shi? He'd be surprised, because his Feng-Shi died, in battle beside him.

He had encouraged her madness, encouraged her fury and all of her worst attributes, her manipulativeness, her everything-- she was Dark!Bi-Han's everything, and they could've ruled together for years and years!

Until fate decided, that his choice for power required consequence, because if he was going to rule at the very top, he'd have to rule alone. The price of power came with the cost of his Feng-Shi.

And now seeing her before him, was like a second chance.

If he could do it once, he could do it all over again-- all to have his Feng-Shi back.

Because if there was anything that this Dark Bi-Han was to Feng-Shi, in his previous timeline, he was an obsessive lover.

And if all it took was stealing another timeline's Feng-Shi and corrupting them, then he'd do it, just to have her by his side again.

☆ Meeting Light/Titan! Bi-Han

Like with Dark!Bi-Han, of course Feng-Shi would be taken aback but all for a different reason. This Bi-Han before her didn't bear metallic gauntlets that dripped blood at the claws, nor glowing white eyes devoid of his humanity. They were softer, kinder and less... Exhausted. He seemed healthy, mentally and physically.

She was almost stunned at the change and for some reason, it hurt her to know what timeline this Bi-Han came from, the one where he didn't have to betray the Lin Kuei and had a healthy bond with his brothers, a timeline where he wasn't wanted dead or worse by the allies she's made in her current timeline.

The sight of this Light! Bi-Han would make her feel relieved that her Bi-Han did have potentiality to be good, he can be good, but maybe just not in this timeline, which was where the thorns settled at the sight of this rose that appeared before her.

Amidst all her silent pain to this revelation, she'd definitely be a little more lenient to interacting with this version of Bi-Han because after all, unlike the Dark version of Bi-Han, this one wasn't so obsessive nor controlling.

He was everything that her Bi-Han was when they were alone, caring, soft, sweet, and gentle but he loved like his heart was on his sleeve. No restraint, hesitation, nor mind to the environment around them or to the eyes that'd watch, and most fascinating of all.

He was kind to other people around him, humble, and respectable without demand for fear in order to establish his reputation. He definitely would've been someone who met Kagome's expectation and won her favor rather than the current one.

The Light! Bi-Han would treat her no differently than to how he would've with his own Feng-Shi. She was just as kind, quiet, patient, and gentle as he was. But like his darker version, he too, lost his Feng-Shi. So if anything, this interaction would equally bring relief and pain to the both of them for what they couldn't have in their respective timelines.

[lily-radiance]

Even Flowers Can Bloom In The Winter- Bleach- Byakuya, Aizen, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra x reader

Click for Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Renji's Reasoning

Whatever the case, he walked down the stairs to meet you, and walked you to your own room. Although every time he did so, you reminded him you could take care of yourself without him by your side, which he wanted to believe, but the will to keep you safe and well, burned too bright for him to stop himself.

He kept close to your side, taking the position closest to the walkway in case he needed to scare someone off and protect you. You never told him to stop necessarily, but tried to let him know you didn't feel threatened or scared when walking alone. You just liked the company of your stubborn friend.

"Am I really a good lieutenant, Renji? If I'm so skilled and good at my job, why did our captain not consider me capable?"

He felt his throat tighten at the question, not expecting such a somber topic.

"Of course you're a good lieutenant! What kind of question is that!? Honestly I think he's being such a fool, you're clearly stronger than I am, but his concerns are understandable. He just doesn't have good people skills, especially when he's worried."

You were absolutely perplexed at his answer, not believing for a second that Byakuya Kuchiki was worried about you.

"Did he say anything specific about his concerns? Because I'm sure he was more worried about his priceless reputation."

You hadn't meant to sound so callous, but it was your real opinion on your observations towards Byakuya. He was always so cold and indifferent, untouchable in the eyes of subordinates, even to you.

"While I wasn't in that meeting, I know from that conversation you walked in on. He really was concerned for your well-being despite his abrasiveness. He wants you to be as strong as you can without taking too many risks, especially with your zanpakuto."

Eventually you two had arrived at your doorway, preparing to say goodnight and hopefully end on a good note.

"I just got my hopes up, that's all, and I was disappointed when my own expectations weren't met. So it's really my fault in the first place, Renji."

Once again he flicked your forehead, stopping your words from taking their toll on either one of you.

"Quit being stupid, stupid. You aren't at fault here, not this time. Just focus on taking care of yourself, okay? If you don't, I might just have to bother you even more, and I don't think you want that."

He ruffled your hair, chuckling slightly as you fought off his barrage of attacks with your arms, smiles breaking through your lips at his silly actions.

"Yeah, you annoy me enough already, strawberry. Just try not to overthink my reactions, okay? I'm just surprised, that's all, I swear."

He pulled his hand away and stepped to give you space.

"I know, but I get worried about you sometimes and I want you to know I'm here for you, no matter what squad you're in."

Without any other reason except the fact you were appreciative of his consideration, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hoping that your message would get across.

His body tensed at first but relaxed into your hold as he reciprocated the action, giving a gentle squeeze with his arms.

"Thank you, Renji."

He rested his chin on your head, wanting nothing more than to ease you.

"Of course, don't mention it."

—--------------------------------------

Two Captains, One Girl

Byakuya Kuchiki was doing everything in his power to stay calm, even as anger flowed through his very being.

Not only had the Head Captain completely ignored his valid points of warning, but now Sosuke Aizen was ridiculing him in his own quarters.

"So not only do you want to make a fool of my opinions, but you deliberately come here, and continue to antagonize me? I've already selected your name, you know this, so why do you hold this over my head?"

While Aizen did hate pretending to be someone he wasn't, he loved it when his plans worked. 

Luckily for him, Byakuya Kuchiki wasn't showing any forgiveness or regret, about his decision. How would you react if you found out these little details, he wondered.

"I'm trying to make you understand that you've already lost this battle. As far as you should be concerned, (Y/N) (L/N) is not your third seat, and you should realize that it's likely she will switch squads after the training is complete."

Byakuya could feel his temper shortening as the conversation continued, every sentence making his blood boil.

"You forget that after the training is complete, I still have to validate and observe the results, so does Yamamoto. And just because you think you can train her, doesn't mean you're her captain just yet."

This clash was destined to happen at one point or another, only becoming more tense with their rivaling personalities. While they both shared confidence, and frustration, it all came down to who was more persistent to meeting their own goals. If anyone had a goal to meet, it was Aizen, who was still plotting his way to the throne of Las Noches in Hueco Mundo.

"I never said I was her captain, but that may change in the next few weeks. Also, your validation of her results means nothing if Yamamoto, Soi Fon, and I share the same opinion."

That egotistical bastard had hit a nerve, well aware of Byakuya's concerns that went far past the concerns of a captain. Not only was that a weak point, but if he played his cards right, the sixth division captain would be both heartbroken and defeated when his true plans came alive.

"There are still weeks of training to go, so don't underestimate my abilities as her captain, quite yet. In fact you're just assuming she will click with your own zanpakuto, but you don't have any idea what it can do, or how she fights. If you don't get your desired results, I wouldn't be surprised, Captain Sosuke Aizen."

Oh how wrong Byakuya would be in a year's time, when Ichigo Kurosaki arrived in the Soul Society, but not yet.

—------------------------------------

Soi Fon's Training and Information 

"Damn, Renji for being right about Captain Soi Fon. I swear she's going to kill me at this rate!"

Currently you were running for your life from the stealth squad captain, who somehow convinced you that this would be a piece of cake. Unfortunately that was a total lie, and you were trying to use the forest's trees to hide your location.

"Found you again, (Y/N)! Don't get lazy on me!"

You dodged her hand as she reached for your wrist, evading to the best of your abilities.

This was arguably one of the toughest training lessons you had gone through, especially since it was against the rules to use your zanpakuto in any way for defense purposes. Instead of fighting directly, you needed to evade her while looking for a chance to catch her off guard. That was a core part of stealth, being hidden while attacking your opponent at their most vulnerable.

"It's not my fault you're faster than I am, I was never trained in stealth! You can't expect a rookie to beat a captain!"

Another dodge, this time you were forced to Flash-Step to another tree, running out of ground to cover. In seconds you felt a hand around your throat, pressing you against the tree trunk.

"If this were a real battle, you would be dead Lieutenant (L/N)."

You focused on the space behind her, imagining ice taking shape, crafting an identical clone from thin air. Soi Fon felt a copy of your zanpakuto pressed to the back of her neck, prompting her to release you.

"Sorry captain, but you didn't say anything about my clones attacking you. So I guess in this case, you'd be the loser, right?"

The clone melted into a puddle as you commanded your zanpakuto, Soi Fon watching intently.

"We'll call that lesson a tie, but don't forget about what I said. On the battlefield, your life is always at risk whether you think so or not. Those ice clones can only do so much, and your stamina isn't indefinite."

For all of the differences that made the captains their own people, they all shared the same unbridled wit and lessons.

"(Y/N), can I ask you something about your zanpakuto?"

You had both sat down on the forest ground, enjoying the end of training and getting the chance to relax. A hum of approval emanated from your lips, waiting.

"You once said that if your life was in danger, you could switch consciousness with one of your clones. How does it work exactly?"

You looked at your sheathed blade that lay in the grass, wondering what your zanpakuto spirit would think if she heard you talk about this.

"The spirit of my zanpakuto and my own spirit are connected, just like everyone in the soul society. She can use her power to switch my soul into a clone, or switch her soul into me. The consequences are all because of how connected we are, her power is always with me, even if we get separated."

Soi Fon glanced towards you, amazed at how you could understand your zanpakuto so well, realizing that it would take more than just will power to limit the consequences of (Zanpakuto's Name)'s power.

"I wouldn't worry about the training, lieutenant, just try to stay in touch with how much energy you deplete over this course of time. Byakuya doesn't have a great sense when it comes to emotions, and his reasoning may seem flawed, but he didn't mean to hurt you."

She sent you a soft smile, an unusual facial expression on the captain, so you sent one back.

"Guys are overrated, but we still give them chances, yeah?"

She laughed at your remark, unable to remain stoic at that point in time.

"Oh you have no idea how stupid they really are, especially when it comes to Shunsui, who probably wants you on his squad just so he can have another beautiful woman near him, but that might apply to two other captains as well- uh nevermind."

Your interest peaked at her comment, shocked at the implications attached to the mystery captains she had mentioned.

"Wait, which captain said that? Besides Kyoraku of course, you mentioned two others?"

As great a captain as she was, Soi Fon could not keep her mouth shut when it came to shedding light on the foolish superiors of the Gotei Thirteen.

"Okay they didn't say anything necessarily, but there are two captains and several lieutenants who have an eye on you. I don't think you'll be surprised by the Lieutenants, as they are your peers, and close friends."

She let out a sigh before continuing on with the information.

"Captain Kuchiki and Captain Aizen have been rather…tense when it comes to your training schedules. Byakuya wants you to train with Toshiro, and Aizen wants to improve your overall abilities, but guys are notorious for saying bullshit when they have their eyes on a woman like you. If you want more information you might have to play around and find it right from the source. Luckily for you, both of these fools are in your vicinity every day."

Your heart practically went into cardiac arrest as she revealed the identities of your admirers. She noticed the look of awe in your eyes, trying to create a mental picture so she could rub it in your face later.

Aizen's Training and Confession

Okay, that was it, hell had finally descended upon you in the form of Rangiku, Yumichika, and Renji getting a perfect view of your training sessions with the fifth division captain.

They had claimed to be training, but that was such an obvious lie when Rangiku sent you a wink after you were knocked on your ass, not even hiding her enjoyment.

"You keep getting distracted, (Y/N), stay focused on me."

You wished you could, but any time your eyes met you would remember Soi Fon's information and turn into a puddle, which wouldn't be terrible except for the awkward tension.

"Woo! You can do it, girlfriend! Ruin that man!"

Yumichika was on your revenge list.

"Don't let his good looks distract you! He may be pretty, but that won't save your life!"

And Rangiku, because this was all her fault to begin with.

Luckily Renji was the only sane person who looked at the other two with mild confusion.

"I'm going to ask them to leave before you have to hear the rest of this craziness."

He chuckled at that but motioned for your release, watching as you stomped off towards the trio in a fit of pure embarrassment.

"I wonder…." He thought as he discarded the pair of glasses for the millionth time, waiting to see just how much of an impact he did have on your state of mind.

"You two need to get the hell out of here before you completely ruin my reputation as a lieutenant! And Renji, please help me here! Because I can't make a fool of myself right now!"

Rangiku was about to fire back at you but her jaw fell open at the scene a few feet away.

"Don't look now, but I think you're going to lose this fight, (Y/N)."

"Do you really have to be so irritating? You guys are the only thing distracting -"

You stopped talking once you saw the same image as a couple weeks ago, unable to form a polite response as you locked eyes once again, no longer bothering to hide your surprise.

"We don't have all day, (Y/N)! Hurry back here!"

His voice carried so easily across the field, making it seem as though he was right next to you. Right before you ran back, you looked over at the three shinigami.

"Do. Not. Say. A. Word. Do you understand?"

They nodded all at once, waiting with baited breath for you to leave so they could talk. Once you were out of earshot they began.

"If she doesn't make a move, I'll kill her myself." Rangiku stated as she watched your movements.

Once you were absolutely sure that the captain was out of earshot and you were safe from ridicule, you drew your zanpakuto.

"They finally shut up so we can begin again, Captain Aizen."

But he didn't give you room to think, appearing behind you in the blink of an eye. You raised your zanpakuto at the correct time as you twisted, blocking his Shikai barely.

"Your timing is excellent but you still need to fix your footing and don't get too comfortable with a sword position."

Another Flash-Step, another dodge by the skin of your teeth. For someone with such a powerful spiritual pressure, he was almost invisible to you, hiding from your senses.

Although it wasn't until you felt his hand on the back of your shoulder that you even registered his presence, let alone his movements.

"Fix your footing (Y/N), you want to be able to sidestep any attack that comes your way. While Byakuya taught you well with the Flash-Step and Kido, your overall moves are hesitant."

You were trying your best to focus on the lesson but the feeling of his palm brushing against your shoulder blade made you tense. Could he feel your muscles twitch at the very idea of physical contact? Did he know your breath was no longer even? Or how hard you were resisting the urge to turn around and face him?

If he could tell, he didn't say anything, instead placing his hands over your own, wrapping them around the hilt of the blade. His arms were now around you, guiding your motions until they became much more fluid.

He released his hold on your hands, stepping away to observe your stance from a distance.

"Keep practicing until you understand every movement and it becomes natural. Then tomorrow I expect a decent fight, (Y/N)."

He leaned forward to catch your gaze, hoping you got the message as he whispered,"Is my appearance so distracting to you? If so, then count me flattered, because I thought you were the pretty one."

Okay maybe Soi Fon wasn't joking about lingering eyes following you around the Soul Society, but still, this was like a dream, a really good dream that happened to be real.

"What the hell is happening over there!?" Renji asked as he could barely make out the two figures in the distance.

"Easy, he's totally hitting on her. Do you see that stance? Plus he just happened to change his appearance at the drop of a hat? No, he's definitely making moves!" Rangiku declared.

"No (Y/N) is totally playing hard to get, like a badass, and she's reeling him into her trap!" Yumichika countered.

Renji had no idea how he got invested in this group drama, but was unable to pull himself up and away from the chaos. Yet seeing you laugh, or smile like that made him wonder if you got the opportunity, would you change squads? Would you change squads just to vy for attention? Or would it be payback for Byakuya's lack thereof?

Whatever the case, he didn't want to see one of his closest friends get moved, all based on some training that lasted less than a month.

Was he being selfish for wanting you to stay with him? Or was he just being protective? Would you genuinely be happy somewhere else, with other people?

That certainly wouldn't be his decision, nor Byakuya's, or anyone else's. If you were happy, he'd be there for you, but if not, he, Rangiku and Yumichika would do anything to keep you content.

"Hey, they're looking over here, y'know? I can't even imagine what they're talking about…."

You would have glared at the trio once more, but the sensation of your chin being tilted upward, fogged your peripheral vision, making you focus on only him. That and possibly his use of Kyoka Suigetsu's power, but it was unclear.

"Are you always this speechless when you get compliments, or is it just when it's from me?"

You had forgotten about your group of friends entirely, transfixed on the firm grip of his hand and those brown eyes following your every move. Maybe your ice clone from that night wasn't so far off, or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way your hand eclipsed his own, smaller but still able to give him chills if he thought about it too much.

"You're asking me to stay focused, but it's quite a challenge when you look…like a dream. Sometimes I think you do this to spite me, Sosuke Aizen."

Even he could no longer tell if you were under a trance, or speaking from your mind, but wherever it came from, it hit his ego in all the right places.

"I wouldn't say I do it out of spite, more like I want to see your reactions, because they're so beautiful."

Unfortunately for you the moment was interrupted by your three friends yelling at the top of their lungs.

"Kiss him or ditch him, sweetheart!"

"Would you quit that Rangiku!?" Renji shouted towards the redhead, but it was no use as Yumichika joined in.

You couldn't help the reaction of rolling your eyes, clearly used to these ridiculous people.

"I'm afraid this moment didn't go as swiftly as it should have, sorry to disappoint you -"

Yet your sentence meant little in the grand scheme of things, air being lost as you were pulled into a greedy kiss, causing you to grip his shoulders. You closed your eyes, doing everything to be ensnared in the moment.

Maybe the moment wasn't ruined as you leaned in, hoping that this escapade would not cause any further problems within the Soul Society quarters.

The rules were always going out the window no matter what you did or didn't do, so indulging in this one forbidden thing, couldn't end up so badly, right? Rules are made to be broken, just as a punishment should fit a crime, or every action having an equal and opposite reaction.

"Now I really am speechless this time, but I think you knew that."

He began to walk with you towards the barracks, occasionally looking over his shoulder at your snickering friends, slight pride forming at the results. In no time at all, this would have to reach Byakuya Kuchiki, and he couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he found out his lieutenant, his sweet and charismatic lieutenant, had fallen for the neighboring captain.

"So I assume there was some gesturing in your recommendation now that I know I'm not the only one with an interest in my coworker."

Okay maybe his planning to ruin the soul society would be put on a slight hold, but just so he could be ready to leave in a year's time, trying to gain a more prominent position within the public's eye.

"Depends how you look at it, (Y/N). I don't want you to think I was just trying to get your attention, because I genuinely did want you to gain more experience than you have now. Plus being paired with you, would be a much nicer perk, don't you agree?"

You hummed along with his words, noticing that you felt unsure of how to walk next to him after everything that transpired moments ago.

"I know word spreads fast in our workplace, but let's keep this quiet for now, until the tension between Captain Kuchiki settles down. I don't need another reason to be on his bad side and I don't want Renji to be caught up in any drama. Causing trouble isn't my motivation if you're wondering, Aizen."

So it would still take work to get you to budge from your mind set's positioning? That wasn't a problem, in fact he had been expecting it, waiting for it, all so he could watch your resolve crumble and begin anew.

"Your secret's safe with me, don't worry."

A wave of silence crashed into your conversation, making an uneasy ball twist in your stomach.

"Can I ask you something that's been bothering me for a while? It's silly but I'd rather have an answer."

He directed his attention towards your figure, once again waiting in silence.

"The glasses you wear, you don't need them do you? And if you don't need them, why wear them?"

He was also expecting this question, but could never find that believable of an answer that wouldn't sound suspicious.

"I guess you could say I thought they looked alright on me? But judging from your reaction, they probably look ridiculous anyway."

"No, that's not what I meant at all! They do look good on you but I think it would be easier to fight had you not kept them. Plus they must give you headaches."

Perceptive as always, he had to give you that, astounded at your concern for such a miniscule detail.

"I guess I possess quite a lot of vanity, and the headaches don't bother me too much anymore. In fact it's a little odd to not be wearing them right now. Strange, isn't it? Bad habits with no benefit and yet we still have them."

You quirked a brow, not thinking of him as a vain person. Gently you reached a hand and grabbed the glasses, surprising him when he wasn't looking.

With as much precision as you could muster, you pushed the lenses out of the rims, and carefully created thin plates of ice to mimic glass, hoping they wouldn't fog too much.

"Here you go, no more headaches for you and you can be as vain as you want, granted it isn't too negative. Oh, yeah they might be a bit cold but I hope they work out better."

He examined your handy work, rotating the glasses every which way to check the angles. Slowly he slipped them on and turned towards you.

"Do they look real enough for you? And they are clear enough."

You gave him a thumbs up, reaching a hand hesitantly to undo his hairstyle and return it to the wavy curls it was usually in.

"Well then I guess being paired with me has its perks too? If anything changes with the glasses or they melt, which shouldn't happen anyway, let me know-"

You stopped walking by his side, instead reaching outward for his arm, and thankfully landing against him before the ground could come close. Of course he didn't waste time grabbing onto you, feeling your weight against his chest.

Your heart was beating and your breathing had been even, but it was easy to see you had strained yourself with that parlor trick.

"(Y/N)? Hey, I've got you, let's get you back to the Seireitei, okay?"

If this had been anyone else his reaction timing might have been slower, or he wouldn't be using the Flash-Step to reach the building structures as quickly as possible. Damning Byakuya Kuchiki for being right about this.

"Shit- I didn't think I pushed that hard. I felt fine, but it was like I couldn't think in that instance."

Even through his several layers of robes and garments, he could feel the aching cold, but he kept his arms around you, trying to keep you warm.

"I should have seen this coming, so don't apologize, not for this."

He dodged several buildings and passerbys, but chose to focus on getting you to the infirmary.

He'd heard about past instances where you developed a similar condition, but had been too trusting of your words, and his disgust towards Byakuya.

Upon his abrupt arrival he noticed Captain Unohana, who sensed his spiritual pressure immediately, her eyes glancing down in worry at your weakened state.

She placed a palm on your forehead, but pulled back quickly as she was met with the biting cold that nipped at her fingers.

"Get her inside now, you need to keep her body temperature warm, use blankets, Kido, anything really but keep her body warm. I'll be back soon."

And with that message the captain known for her healing techniques and restoratives had gone to let Captain Kuchiki, Yamamoto, Kurotsuchi, Komamura, and Hitsugaya know of your ailments. Even though he knew a good amount of Kido, all the techniques had slipped from his mind, his concern was watching you for any other symptoms.

It seemed Unohana's message had spread quickly, each requested captain appearing instantaneously, a somber look upon their features.

"Hitsugaya see if you can remove and ease the ice, Kurotsuchi the medication, Komamura, Aizen, the bedding and Yamamoto use a Kido spell. I'll work on calming down her spirit energy."

Byakuya stood silent in the room, waiting desperately for a command to be spoken, but soon realized his main purpose was to watch your condition, to remember your symptoms, your weaknesses, remember the vulnerability you suffered at the extensive use of your zanpakuto.

"Captain Aizen, when you were training today, did she exhibit any symptoms? Chills? Numbness? Weakness in limbs? Emotional fluctuation? Reduced Speed? Visible breath? We need to know what to look for, sir."

As he looked downward at your frail body, your eyes followed his own. Blinking quickly and raised eyebrows, your hand reaching outward for a moment, barely able to lift it a couple inches from the mattress.

Even with the risk he was putting towards himself, towards sickness and severe frostbite, he clasped your hand below his own, fingers intertwining as best as possible on the back of your hand. His touch was warm, easing the anxiety flowing through your veins.

"She had no symptoms, no telltale signs of her zanpakuto acting up. In fact, her only problem seemed to be hesitation, as though she were afraid to draw her blade against me, even in training. Besides that, she surprised me with her speed and talent. If I didn't know any better I'd think she was a captain in training."

Everyone within the room stiffened after he spoke, unsure if they could help in time, but desperate to tend to your ailment.

At last, some symptoms began to disappear, the ice crystals started to melt away, your lips were no longer blue, and the tremor in your hand had stopped. Now all that was left was to check on your condition for the next few days, no work, no training, and definitely no zanpakuto in your vicinity until you had a full recovery and check up.

The thing that really surprised you though was the amount of visits from different captains and peers.

Unohana, Byakuya, Aizen, Renji, Rukia, Rangiku, and Yumichika were the regular visitors. At any given moment they could show up talking about their days, the gossip, the hollows, the paperwork, and everything in between.

Currently you were fighting off a cuddle attack from Yachiru, who would make Kenpachi take her to see you, and would occasionally be under your watch.

She was bouncing around on your stomach, energetic as always, talking about how "Kenny is going on a big mission today and can't watch me!"

So like he usually did, he left her in your care, not trusting the other shinigami to amuse her like you did.

"Yeah but aren't you a little young to be fighting?"

You raised your palms up in self-defense as she sent tiny punches your way, but was stopped by Renji, who picked her up and placed her in the hallway.

Renji's Confrontation

"You need to take it easy, (Y/N), I'm serious. I know you hate to do it, but you have to rest up if you want to get back to work."

You merely glared at him, having heard a variety of this conversation at least a dozen times.

"Well I can't exactly sit still all day, so she visits and I indulge her. Renji, if she actually had the capabilities to hurt me, I wouldn't put up with it. I feel fine."

"You always feel fine, then something happens, and we all freak out and make you agree to a bunch of bullshit that you don't follow anyway. So yes I want you to rest, and that means no play fighting the rat child."

You chuckled at that nickname for the pink haired girl, seeing a resemblance already. Even though you were better, coughs soon erupted from your chest, deep and painful.

Renji guided you to lay back down, to which you surrendered, too weak to protest.

"Does Captain Kuchiki -"

"No, he still doesn't know about it, so quit bringing it up. If you don't want it out in the open, quit talking with Rangiku. She's practically bursting at the seams while keeping it a secret. Now would you stop using energy? And stop smiling, this isn't a good thing!"

You only groan in response, wishing your body would let you sleep instead of this constant state of weakness, this unrelenting pause of your life.

"Any time I annoy you is a good thing, especially if it means you show up here. Unohana is nice but I can't take any more lectures and I can't look at Captain Kuchiki. The least you could do is stop nagging me."

He stayed quiet, trying to come up with a way to explain his reasoning for finding Captain Kuchiki at Unohana's request. How could he not tell his Captain you had pushed your limits, that you needed medical support immediately? Was he supposed to act like nothing happened? Like you weren't unable to stand or talk or do anything a few days ago?

"If you're taking vengeance on Captain Kuchiki, you should reconsider. He's still your captain, and he was trying to put your health first. Can't you forgive him for not writing your name down on one measly piece of paper?"

Renji was frustrated with your reasoning, unable to go along with your train of thought.

"It's not just about the paper, Renji, it's the fact that I didn't even pass his mind when he was writing the damn thing. I wasn't good enough for his recommendation and I'm his third seat! Doesn't that give me the right to be angry?"

"No, not when his argument was right all along, you cannot control your zanpakuto! (Y/N), it nearly killed you! And all you can do is think of ways to get back at someone who cares about you! Are you so self involved that you can't see it!"

You had pushed him back, using both your arms and upper body strength to get him away from your bedside.

"You wouldn't understand, would you? You're his second seat, his favorite next to Rukia, and I'm just a liability to the whole Seireitei! Then you all expect me to be fine with the choices I can't make for myself! "

He took a step forward, planning to continue, but his eyes widened at the sight of your hand wrapped around the hilt of your zanpakuto, good as new, not a scratch on the blade.

He'd never been on the receiving end of your sword, never considering its ability a threat to anyone but you. Yet he couldn't help but feel dread coil in his chest, your eyes full of rage and desperation, deep breaths passing between the seconds.

"Just get out of here, Renji, please. I don't want to continue this conversation."

This look of desperation was new to him, reminding him of a cornered animal, ready to snap at any moment. Yet you were as focused as he'd ever seen you, not even uttering a summoning phrase to call upon your zanpakuto.

In fact your body didn't seem so fragile anymore, the desire to protect your pride forming enough spiritual pressure to make him stand still in awe. If anyone else even passed by the hall, they could catch the sight of a gray mist scattered throughout the air.

He could feel something cold falling on his nose, looking upwards to see tiny snowflakes floating in the space.

"(Y/N), you need to calm down before you freeze up again."

He reached a hand towards your zanpakuto, trying to predict your movements.

[outoftheirdifferences]

So I’ve got another one of these in my inbox for this girl that I intend to work on in a moment. But before I do, I just want to share again the very first one of these I did; because I was inspired by doing the Terra one yesterday to reread it earlier, and I feel like it was honestly one of my favourite pieces of writing on my old blog? So...

Send me ‘☯ + a scene from my characters canon’ and I will drabble it from my character’s POV.

“Hey, cut it out! She’s the one who wants to be a house dog, not me!”

No!

For the barest fraction of a second, Angel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It wasn’t- it couldn’t be- Scamp had promised!

Well. Now she saw what his word was worth.

Nothing.

Just like everything else in this forsaken scrapheap.

(Again, under the cut for length!)

She heard the shocked gasps from the other dogs behind her, but Angel paid them no mind. She had attention for one being in this junkyard, and one being only.

The pup who had saved her and who she had risked her neck to save in return;the pup who she had laid her heart bare before, and who she thought had loved her; the pup who she had desperately pleaded with to see sense.

The pup she now wanted nothing more than to rip from limb to limb.

Before she had even realised what she was doing, Angel had stepped towards him. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her maw pulled back into the thin line of a silent snarl as murder danced through her heart. His apology went unheard.

She had trusted him!

"Is that true, Angel baby?”

That voice, she couldn’t help but hear; a moment later, Buster has interposed himself between her and Scamp, forcing the Pomeranian to back up. Danger dripped from his every syllable, choking off her desire to make Scamp suffer for his betrayal and leaving Angel in no doubt at all about the fate that awaited her if she confirmed the male’s words.

It would have been so easy just to lie, as she had for so long. To say Scamp had been making things up to save face, that he was just resorting to cheap lies to take the heat off him.

But they’d all seen her reaction, she knew. She hadn’t acted with the surprise of one wrongly accused; she had reacted with the shock of betrayal. No matter what she said, Buster would suspect; and those Buster suspected rarely lasted long.

And besides, if Scamp wasn’t going to be the better person, she supposed that mantle had to fall to her. He had thrown her under the bus to save his own neck; but she refused to do the same.

Not now.

Not anymore.

“I don’t think a family’s so bad.” Slowly, she raised her head to look Buster in the eye. Whatever followed, it wasn’t going to be pretty; but she was through with the lies. In a way, it was almost a relief. Who knew what Buster would do to her before he threw her out? But it would be the end of her having to pretend to be as callous and heartless as all the rest of them, all in the name of being accepted.

“You hear that, boys? She wants to be a little house-pet!”

Evidently, jeering and taunting was the flavour of the day; for half a moment, Angel’s head turned to the other junkyard dogs. Sparky and Ruby, Francois, Mooch and Scratchy… she would never have willingly called any of them friends; but still, the six of them had been the survivors. They might not have had each others’ backs, but they had still been a loose sort of family. Would they really turn against her?

Dumb question. They were sycophants; when Buster gave the word, they all followed. Even she had, when she’d still counted herself as one of them. She’d joined them in taunting other dogs similarly. Taunting, and worse.

She deserved this.

Steeling herself, the small female returned her glare to Buster. The rottie-mix was smirking, confident that he was weeding out the unworthy in their midst, and Angel could feel her hatred of the contemptible dog churning her gut, even as the laughter and jeers of the other animals assaulted her ears.

“Ooh, she wants to be a little house-pet!”

"With ribbons! With ribbons!”

“You ain’t no junkyard dog!” That was Buster again. The thinnest veil of laughter clung to his tone, mocking her even as he spat the words with as much contempt for her as she felt for him. Angel flinched away; and then caught herself.

“That’s right, Buster, I’m not.” She sensed rather than saw the change in his expression; the stiffening of his posture, the widening of his eyes. He’d expected her to grovel, to beg and plead for her place; she’d caught him by surprise, and that fact gave Angel courage.

“Not anymore.” She took one step, then another, past Buster. Standing tall, head held high and back straight. There was none of the pain she’d expected to feel, of being torn from another family. Because the junkyard dogs had never been a family, not really. She’d wanted them to be, she’d deluded herself into thinking they could ever be the thing she yearned for so much; but in the end, the bond between them didn’t exist at all. There was no care, no loyalty. Nothing.

Being shot of them wasn’t a loss; it was freedom.

“Oh, and, uh… I’m not your girl.”

Angel wasn’t even sure why she’d dropped that parting shot; but for the first time in all the months she’d been saying it, it finally seemed to sink in. Out the corner of her eye, Angel held Buster’s narrowed eyes for half a moment longer, ignoring again the gasps and murmurs from the other dogs, before turning away.

And finding herself face to face with Scamp.

Even if leaving this wretched life behind didn’t hurt, his betrayal of her trust - only momentarily forgotten - was still a knife that had been dug into her heart and twisted hard. She’d thought- she’d been so sure that she meant something to him, just as he had to her; but no. She had just been a toy to play with and discard when it would save his neck.

No more than she had been to Buster.

No more than she had ever been to anyone.

For the first time that afternoon, for the first time since she’d abandoned her dream of finding a true home, Angel felt hot tears burn her eyes. She’d thought Scamp had been special. She’d thought he’d been different.

Her mistake.

“Maybe you do belong here!” Her voice sounded choked; she didn’t care. Scamp had shown her what he was worth; and it was nothing more than any other of the miserable dogs under Buster’s command.

He was just like the rest of them. Lying, pretending, and then sacrificing her whenever it was convenient. He wasn’t different. Maybe no dog really was.

She didn’t wait for a response; before Scamp could do more than blink stupidly at her, she had turned tail and fled. Heedless of the other dogs, calling her back; heedless of the tear trails marking her fluffy cheeks. Up the crates, down the pipe, and out of the junkyard.

Nothing waited for her out there. But even so, it was still better than spending another moment anywhere near the pup who had just crushed her heart.

[erikjohnsons]

so uh.... did you see the thing about Gabe?

depends. r u asking if i saw gabe testified on varlamov’s behalf 2+ years ago, or if i saw the reactionary misquote of a paraphase? 

my reaction to the first happened when i was first getting into the avs as a team and was combo anger/disappointment that a man i admire deeply would stick up for someone accused of domestic violence, and resignation at the apathy of rich white men in their bubble of other rich white men. but like. happened a few years ago. we been knew

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[umiarumi]

fucking three houses | lorenz hellman gloucester

the whole reason i wrote this collection was because of an inside joke. "wouldnt slut shaming lorenz be funny?"

The resounding tune of the clock striking noon echoed around the monastery, prompting you to perk up from your studies. Usually, you studied in solitude. As outgoing as your allies made you, you always held onto that ease and pleasure being alone supplied you. With how lust-induced your recent activities had been, a little peace and quiet would do you some well-deserved good.

You shut the book regarding tactics your professor had recommended you. The soft shuffles of former students leaving the library and hushed chatter reverberated around the room and halls. Of course, you were at war but there's always time to get better at what you do. You chuckled at the thought of some grizzled lady wielding a sword studying. Well, that is you after all!

Sliding the book back in its respective shelf, you hummed as you remembered Tomas. From what you gathered, the Tomas that the faculty knew was replaced. Unfortunate, but unsurprising knowing the enemies working behind the scenes.

You shifted your thoughts to your upcoming mission. Some scouting mission from the empire detected commotion in Garreg Mach. You huffed at the thought. Of course, you'd expect Edelgard to retaliate but damn, that was quick.

You shook your head, well, it was tea time! Noon meant the yard would be filled with people gossiping and sipping alike, the hobby so ingrained in them that they retained it through the war.

You walked past Seteth, nodding to him. He nodded back, cracking a soft smile. You'd rarely see that emotion! You giddily laughed as he turned the corner, pleased to see he was loosening up.

Walking down the stairs, you passed a rushing Lysithea who didn't even recognise you. You grinned, shaking your head. Always in a rush, that girl! Or, well, woman. She'd like that better.

Sauntering, you caught a glimpse of a certain purple and ginger-headed duo bickering. "Lee! Lorenz! Whatever is wrong, my dear friends?" You cheered, slinging your arms around the two. Leonie raised a brow at you, grinning, seemingly relieved at your arrival. Lorenz, on the other hand, froze up. "Although you may have connections to House Riegan, (Y/N)..." He grumbled, sighing.

"Oh chill, Lorenz!" You guffawed, shaking your head. He'd become considerably more agreeable, but God, he'll hold onto that 'treating commoners with his version of respect' ideal forever.

Leonie nodded with you. "Yeah, buddy." She pointedly looked at Lorenz, crossing her arms. "Well, apparently (Y/N), Lorenz thinks that he can't take me to tea because I'm 'unpleasant'". Hands now on her hips, she turned back to you.

You smirked. "Lovers quarrel?" You asked, shifting your weight.

"NO, DUMBASS!" "Absolutely not!"

You cackled at the yells, waving your hands in front of your face dismissively. They really did act like it!

"My bad, my bad... now, Leonie is a great dining partner! But... I doubt tea is even your thing." You offered, mockingly putting on a wise tone. She slowly nodded, realising you're right.

"Yeah! A good meal is better than tea. Thanks for seeing my point, (Y/N)." She slapped your back before, turning away. "I'll spend this time on training, can never get enough!" She waved goodbye to the two of you, although you supposed it was more to you.

Lorenz sighed, brushing his, admittedly less foul, hair out of his face. "I fail to see why you defend her." He muttered, looking to you. You raised a brow, tilting your head for that added 'what do you mean?' effect.

"Simply put, she wouldn't make a fair tea partner. She accused me of the reason being that she was a commoner, but it truly was not! I explained to her, but she seemed to have not appreciated my honesty, either." He pondered, lips pursing.

"Well, Lorenz! I think you need a lesson in manners." You bluntly asserted, placing your hands on your sides.

"Why I never-"

"Not that you don't have wonderful manners! However, your honesty can be jarring... you come off rude, man." You explained, patting his shoulder.

"So I am to lie?"

"Gah! No! Look, how about we discuss it over tea?" You suggested, exasperated. As intelligent as the dude is, his social cues with... commoners and the rest of us normal people are is abysmal!

He nodded. "A splendid notion! Shall we take this to my dorm? I feel as though the tea court will be filled by now. I also have some delectable flavours and tea sets!" He smiled, leading you away.

You yelped, catching up to him. What was the deal with guys walking briskly away from you?

~~~~

"Please, take a seat." He offered, pulling out a chair for you. You mumbled thanks, sitting down.

Crossing your legs, you hummed. Was this a curse? Was this going to end up in you fucking the most pretentious man? Well, the omniscient presence watching your every move knows the answers.

As he poured the tea into your embellished cup, you admired the colour. "How pretty! And the teacup compliments it!" You whispered in awe, looking back up to Lorenz. He smiled sweetly at you, almost in the way one would at a kitten or puppy.

"I'm glad you have a knack for spotting artistic factors in the simplest things." He said, sitting down opposite you.

"However, on our way here, I thought about something."

You gulped. How was your impending lecturing being turned on you?!

"Y-yes?" You stuttered, bringing the teacup to your mouth, sipping nervously on the steaming liquid.

He eyed you, before humming.

"I doubt you're the most qualified person to teach me about manners." He said, gauging your reaction. You halted sipping on your tea.

Collecting yourself, you placed your teacup back down. "Oh? Why would that be?" You questioned, fiddling with the tablecloth.

"Well, you seem to have time engaging in certain... promiscuous activities, that isn't exactly too innocent or polite." He murmured, sipping on his tea.

Your eyes bulged, hands antsy as they moved to your face to hide your shock.

"For someone so carefree to participate in such... activities in public, you sure do seem to hold a facade of modesty." He replied, watching you sternly.

"Yeah, imagine how it feels having someone know of this!" You gritted your teeth, clenching your arms.

He raised a brow, smiling crookedly. "Certainly you wouldn't mind. Considering you would do so on holy grounds. You and Claude seemed to have not cared. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole monastery heard you."

You gasped, moving to get out of your chair. You didn't need a lecture from Lorenz.

He stood up with you, challenging your gaze.

"When I told Leonie she wasn't well-kempt enough... I suppose you aren't any better." He smirked, watching you bite your lip anxiously.

"Damnit, what do you want!? Don't tell anyone, I'll do anything!" You pleaded, taking a step forward. Lorenz grinned at this, raising a brow. He walked around the table, coming to face you directly. You looked down, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Since you're so eager to offer. Perhaps I could partake in those services Claude recommended to you?" He whispered, hand coming to tilt your chin upwards. Your face erupted in a dark heat, your heart thumping.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz.

You collected yourself, giving him a sly grin as your hands found themselves around his neck. "Well, if you're interested in a free trial..." You hinted, swaying your hips.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz.

He gulped, smiling crookedly. "You strike a hard bargain, my fair lady. I suppose I'd have to indulge." He murmured, grabbing underneath your knee and pulling your leg up to his waist.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz.

"Then, please, take whatever you'd like."

Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck-

Your lips were captured by his own, as you soon felt your weight shift as your body was lifted from the ground. You wrapped your legs around him fully as you were set down on his plush bed

The kiss heated up passionately, feeling Lorenz palm you through your normal uniform. Being a Sunday, no war business was discussed and no armour was worn. He cupped your breasts.

"You're hardly pleasant, ever so brash and callous. But not to fear, I'll mould you into a fair woman. However, I'd say I prefer your unabashed promiscuousness." He hissed, stripping you of your uniform. Soon, your bra and underwear followed.

He shed his own casual uniform, for once in his life, not caring. That was proved as much as he dropped his uniform onto the mahogany floors.

You were pushed down onto the bed as you felt Lorenz slide on top of you, his already hard dick grinding against your slick cunt. You sighed, capturing his lips in a kiss once more.

His hands moved to your breasts, removing his mouth from your own only to kiss up the skin. Poking, squeezing, kissing, licking. He left no stone unturned, or in this case, no skin untouched. His apparent fixation on your breasts soon shifted to your darkened face. He simpered at his work.

"You will be good practice for the future. I suppose a whore such as yourself wouldn't oppose being treated with such behaviour." He proposed, his hands stroking up and down your sides.

"I... I'm not a whore!" You defended weakly. Yet any argument was soon washed away as he began to rub his dick up and down against your vagina.

"Oh? Ah, I see. So making love... no, I should say, carelessly fucking your former classmates one after another was just a hallucination?" He asked, the tip of his dick sliding into your walls for a split second before retreating.

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" You cried out, frustrated at the lack of stimulation.

"Ah, straight to denial, I see! You have skipped explaining and gone straight to denying your needy, sluttish behaviour." He groaned as he felt you pull him closer.

You cried out in frustration before looking away.

" F-fine! You're right that I'm a whore! I'm a whore who loves her classmate's dicks! Now please fuck me!" You moaned, exasperated.

"That's wonderful to hear."

And no sooner than he spoke did he thrust his dick right into your pussy, a silent moan escaping your open lips. He leant over you, feeling your tits press against him. Your legs rose and wrapped around his pistoning hips.

You struggled to get a full breath at the pace he was thrusting at, it sent your head spinning. You couldn't think, you could only feel as you were fucked silly by the one guy you could never like.

Yet, that distaste furthered your arousal.

"You are far from suitable for me. You.." He heaved as you clenched around him. "Naughty. You're brash, loud, unladylike... but you make a wonderful cocksleeve." He groaned into your ear, letting out soft moans.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten at his words.

"Then... you're just like me! Sinking down... to my level just for some pussy?" You teased, slurring.

He smirked annoyedly. "Tch, I wouldn't say that in your position." He grunted out, holding you tighter as he pistoned harder.

"O-oh! I... you!" You moaned, speech cutting off as you couldn't talk. It was so fast, so hard, so good!

The two of you continued to moan and grunt, accompanied only by the sound of skin slapping. The erotic groans of the man you held such distaste for was sending you over the edge. You hated it so much that you loved it.

To the means of an end, you felt the coil snap as he groaned once more in your ear, the spasming of your walls soon causing him to cum. You felt your ravaged pussy shudder as ropes of hot cum seared your insides. As he slid out, it trailed out.

Lorenz looked down on you, smiling coyly at the sight. "Speechless and fucked silly, that's a perfect look for you."

[cherryblossom-chopper]

Hi dear, may I please request some headcanons for Benn, Shanks & Ace’s reactions to their female S/O flinching during an argument? Tysm🌷🌸🥰

My finals for this semester are over so now I'm back on bullshit!

Benn

-Opening the door to the medical ward, Benn scans the room. He locks eyes with (Name), who is attempting to get out of bed. Benn is quick to stop her.

-"How are you feeling, Sugarcane?" Benn can't help but fret, her torso is covered in bandages, and her face was bruised.

-When (Name) brushes him off, insisting she is fine, Benn can't help but feel anger bubbling up in his chest. For the sake of the gods, (Name) nearly died.

-Benn snaps at her as she tries to get up a second time. "Why are you trying to get out of bed? Are you really that stupid (Name)?" he barks. He intends to continue until he notices how tense she looks.

-Her teeth are clenched, and her gaze is fixated downward at the floorboards. She won't look at him.

-Benn purses his lips, "What's wrong (Name)?" He places his middle and index finger beneath her chin, wanting to tilt her face up to look at him.

-Her teeth clench together far tighter than Benn thinks is possible, and she does her best to lean away from him. "Please don't," she murmurs. It's a demand but sounds like begging to Benn.

-He removes his hand with a deep frown. "What happened?" His voice much softer now than before, "I know you're in physical pain, but this is clearly more."

-When she doesn't reply, Benn removes his coat and drapes it over her. "I'm going to sit with you if that's okay. I still think you should lay down, but I won't stop you from getting up."

-She nods and stays in bed for a while longer, putting Benn's mind at ease, but only slightly. It seems there is still so much he has yet to learn about her.

Shanks

-Despite his good nature, Shanks has grown a bit callous throughout the years. It's as if he's developed the attitude of a cat. He still manages to be relatively soft on his partner, however.

-So the first time he snaps at (Name) is surprising and unexpected. Shanks was working at his desk while his partner was going through some old photos he had. She'd been asking him questions, and it was beginning to wain on him.

-Between (Name) and his work, he was getting more and more agitated. Shanks stood up, whirled around to snap at (Name). He stomped over to where she was sitting while scolding her for bothering him.

-(Name) jumps with a small gasp and does her best to scoot away from Shanks.

-Shanks had lived long enough to recognize an action like that. With a sigh, Shanks gently put his hand on her head. "I'm sorry (Name)."

-She peaked up at him and grabs his arm with her hand. "Please don't yell at me," she murmurs.

-He crouches down to her level to meet her gaze. Shanks took her cheek in his hand. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time."

-(Name) leans into his hand and nods. "What can I do to make it right, Starling?" Shanks asks softly. When she shrugs, he frowns and sighs. He presses a kiss onto her cheek and sits beside her in awkward silence.

-Say the word, and I'll make it right.

Ace

-In his frustration, he raised his voice and tosses his hands in the air. When his partner ducks her head and squeezes her eyes shut, it catches Ace’s attention.

-His anger fizzles out, and out of instinct, he tries to approach her while reaching for her. Ace is shocked when she starts back peddling. There’s a panicked expression on her face. One that’s like a wild animal caught in a trap desperately looking for a way out.

-Are you okay (Name)? What’s going on?

-He can’t help but ask far too many questions for (Name) to deal with. “Ace, please just give me some space. I can’t breathe.” Her breath is unsteady, and there’s an edge to her tone. Ace doesn’t like it one bit. His instinct is to hug her and protect her, but (Name) knows what she needs better than him.

-He gives (Name) a wide berth and fidgets. Ace watches her take a few minutes to calm down some before he says anything.

-Sunshine, can you please tell me what to do? I want to help you. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I’m sorry for yelling at you.

-(Name) needs time to breathe independently, so when she asks Ace to leave, he will. However, he’ll mope while waiting for her to feel better.

-When she returns, he’ll do his best not to pepper her with questions, but Ace is a fixer. He wants to fix the problem.

-If she tells Ace the truth, he will be devastated. Ace will experience the truest form of anger, but he does what he can stay calm and make (Name) feel safe.

-If (Name) lets him, Ace will hold her close and press a kiss on her forehead. While cupping her cheek, Ace promises to protect her.

-I can’t let anyone smother my Sunshine, so I’ll help you burn brighter.

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter fifteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1663

Monotonous.

That was the best word you could come up with to describe the past week. The days lulled on without change as you unfortunately pined after Levi, who still seemed to pay you no mind -- but today would be different. You had formed a hypothesis. It was lofty, optimistic guesswork with no actual backing, but it was a hypothesis nonetheless. If  you placed the right kind of pressure on Levi, then he would admit exactly what you wanted to hear. Your sadness about the situation, as melancholy typically does, had turned to spiteful anger; you needed to prove him wrong. Even if it amounted to nothing, even if you were left with sadness yet again.

"You want me to what?" Jean asked you in a whisper, face drawn up in disgust. You laughed at him before retraining your eyes on the back of Levi's head. His hair had been cut recently. It looked nice.

"Come on, Jean. It won't be that bad. It's just for a few days at most. I'll hate it just as much as you will. It's a game," you replied just as quietly. Despite his protests, you knew it wouldn't take too much convincing. He cared about you too much to tell you no. You gave him your most sincere puppy-dog eyes, watching the disgust on his face morph to a mix of disappointment and amusement. Score.

"I'll do it," he conceded, laying his forehead in his palm. You knew it wouldn't take much effort. Your plan, albeit a little childish, was what you had deemed a sure-fire experiment to test your hypothesis. Hange would be proud.

Levi, as careless as he may seem, irrefutably had anger as his foremost emotion. He was quick to it, and he wore it well. With such constant anger came many things: a gentle side well-contrasted by the rough exterior that ruled others' perception -- proven true; a likely mix of mood swings and impulsivity -- also relatively evident; and, most importantly, a tendency toward jealousy -- completely unproven but heavily suspected. You relied on that suspicion to make sense of the mixed signals he had given you.

You'd been considering it for days; after a while, you grew weary of being ignored. It beat down on you like a rain shower, leaving you to helplessly question the meanings of fleeting moments within the confines of the infirmary. Being unsure was decidedly the worst part. An explicit yes-or-no answer was annoyingly required to calm your racing mind -- accepting his words at face value was impossible.

You followed the outline of his jaw with your eyes as he spoke to Hange, who was sitting at his side. He always looked so well put together. You fantasized about his hair in disarray and his clothes hanging loose -- how he looked on the morning after the night you spent together. You had long grown past embarrassment; every self-pitying thought soon became validating as the nights in the infirmary consolidated into your definition of Levi. You were sure, entirely, that this newfound attitude towards you was all for show. Otherwise, how could someone so callous become so gentle?

His collected gaze was aimed anywhere that wasn't at you. Jean's stories of certain stolen glances when you weren't looking were enough to assure you that he wasn't as unbothered as he seemed. Sometimes you wished you could catch his eye just to send him a soft smile -- to remind him that the two of you weren't just unreasonably disliked acquaintances. You were almost tired of being mad at him; unfortunately for him, however, you were quick to anger, too.

When you were dismissed to training, you weren't slow to get up. You tossed your tray atop the stack of others and made your way out the door, other scouts surrounding you to form a crowd. Jean put his arm around you when you found yourself outside the door; but, instead of swinging it casually around your shoulders, he slid it snugly around your waist. You watched as he shook his head, eyes rolling so hard you were sure they'd come out of their sockets.

When you looked back, you swore for a moment that you met a pair of narrowed grey eyes.

---

The training exercise was your least favorite of them all: the insufferable wooden-titan practice you'd done a month or so before. You fell in line with the rest of your comrades, your gaze traveling to Levi's stance atop a tree branch. He was leading this exercise, and although it was better for your experiment, it was hard to ignore how hard he had been on you. Slack didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. You wanted to do well.

You all lied in wait for his go-ahead, your hands positioned over the triggers on your gear. It would be your first time using ODM again; luckily, legs weren't really necessary. You looked forward at the back of Bertholdt's head, knowing Jean stood a few feet behind you. Last time you finished -- third? Maybe second? You were confident you could do it again.

You saw Levi travel towards the middle of the group of trees for a better view. "Alright," he called, several yards away. "Go."

It only took a few seconds to realize you were rusty when you fell to the middle of the group. Jean had already passed you, along with Connie and Sasha. Nearly a month out of training had done more damage than you thought. You fought to stay ahead of the curve, your eyes failing you to glance at Levi's disappointed face. You made eye contact for a split second, your chest swelling against your will. A lift of his eyebrow forced your line of sight forward as you narrowly missed a tree branch. He scoffed, loud enough for you to hear him. How embarrassing.

Whether by luck or underestimation, you were surprised that several scouts remained in the exercise when you landed. Levi had moved towards the edge of the trees now, so you could still see him from your place in the grass. You wondered if he knew, and if he had glanced your way, too. Your plan relied on the fact that he had and would again.

You waltzed to where Jean stood, away from the others and sipping from his canteen. You slid your hand into his, fingers interlocking as he gagged playfully. "Your hands are sweaty," he said, discomfort clear in his tone.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Yours just feel greasy. Have you washed them recently?" The two of you continued joking back and forth as your eyes darted over your shoulder at Levi. You told yourself that acting as if you didn't even notice him would be the best way to go; it was difficult, though. You wanted to gauge every reaction as clearly as you could -- that's how experiments work, right?

You caught him staring for the very first time. When you met his eyes, his gaze did not falter. He simply lowered one eyebrow inconspicuously. You looked away as quickly as you could to hide the triumphant grin spreading across your face; he had seen, and he didn't look happy. The experiment, though, was not yet complete. You wanted more.

As the last few scouts landed, you and Jean took a seat, hands still interlocked in the clammiest, most uncomfortable form of physical affection you had experienced to date. To make matters worse, you decided to lay your head snugly in the slope from his neck to his shoulder. Of course, you and Jean were not strangers to physical affection, as most close friends weren't. Nonetheless, the connotation behind the prolonged hand-holding and casually romantic cuddling was uncomfortable at best. You were lucky he couldn't tell you no. Another strike of luck was that everyone was used to seeing the two of you close and comfortable, and it would be difficult to anyone not intently watching to notice a difference; were there any downsides to having a male best friend?

"Is he looking?" you whispered nudging Jean with your shoulder.

"I don't know," he whispered back, "I'm facing the same way as you."

You snorted. "No shit. Just look around. Don't make it obvious."

You felt his head turning, looking both ways out at the scouts that surrounded you. "Okay, yeah. He's looking. He didn't even look away when he saw me. He looks pissed."

You smiled. Your hypothesis was not far from being proven true; you just needed another push. "You're not going to want to do this," you told Jean, trying to hide the mischievous grin overtaking your face.

"I'm not doing it. No way."

"Jean, please!"

"Nope. Not happening."

"It'll only last a second," you said in the most convincing tone you could muster.

"This is a stupid plan," he answered, a sigh of concession building in his lungs. You had won, yet again.

"Just kiss me. Fuck, it's only once."

And so he did. He tasted like the disgusting soup you had eaten for lunch. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but you were subject to the time-slowing force that only came from ecstasy and torture. This time, it was the torture kind. When he pulled away, you forced a grin for show. Through your teeth, you said, "I think that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Ever."

He laughed, squeezing your hand. "It couldn't have been worse than what just happened to me. Remind me to wash out my mouth with soap later." You looked over your shoulder to see Levi still staring, his jaw set in anger. What could be more satisfying?

When you were all dismissed from the exercise, you were sure to walk slowly as you and Jean swung your conjoined hands back and forth. Surely real couples don't hold hands this long, you thought; this much sweat can't be comfortable. Before you saw him, you heard Levi's voice at your side.

"Get cleaned up and get to my office. I need a word with you."

Had it really been this easy the whole time?

[shes-ghostface]

Nice can we get some spicy Harry Warden spending his first Valentines day with his s/o? (Preferably fem)

I’ve never written quite a strong NSFW before so I’m sorry if it’s a bit weird or lame 😂 I hope by spicy you did mean nsfw, if not I’m so sorry! 😂 I feel like I took too long to actually get to the spicy bits 😂 so if you get bored skip down about 14 paragraphs, that’s when it gets to the nsfw! 🤍

Harry Warden x Fem s/o (very NSFW)

February 14th, the day you know Harry isn’t fond of, had finally came around. You and Harry had been together for a few months now. He wasn’t much of a celebrator when it came to any holiday, but you know Valentines Day was a bit of a trigger for him. You didn’t exactly know what to expect as this was your first one together, and you hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.

You have your own apartment not too far from the mines, Harry stays at your place a lot though. He likes to know you’re safe and be able to watch over you. Plus he gets a nice view of the town from your window as your apartment is pretty high up. But he prefers to pick his next victim from there rather than look at the scenery.

You do go to the mines with him sometimes, but you prefer not to as it is really cold and damp, sometimes Harry leaves dead bodies lying around too which is quite stomach churning. Once he realises your discomfort though, he moves them instantly and throws them down the mining chute. You can’t even imagine how many bodies are down there.

Harry tries to make you feel at home when you’re there by filling his furnace up with wood to make sure you’re warm, he puts the radio on to give you some noise to listen to, as he doesn’t talk much. But you don’t mind, just his company is enough to keep you happy. It always plays classic 80s music, it’s the only music he will listen to, so don’t ever try to change the channel.

Harry was very shy at first, you only really knew you had started dating him when he began to bring crystals from the mines to your door along with small notes covered in soot, usually they only consisted of him telling you how nice you looked today, or that he’d be coming by later. He wouldn’t be there when you opened the door at first. He would just leave the crystals along with a note outside your door in a pouch for you to pick up, you knew he would be watching you read his notes from somewhere though. Another thing he did, is he would watch you as you worked and if anyone flirted with you, they wouldn’t be in the next day, or any days after that. You didn’t want to know exactly what happened to them, but you had an idea. Once he got more confident though, he would knock at your door and before you could even open it fully he would barge it all the way open, knocking you back. Of course he caught you before you fell every time though, and he would yank you into him for hugs, getting soot and blood all over you and your clothes.

Once he was comfortable, he definitely made himself at home, he would immediately plonk his sooty ass on your couch and drop his pickaxe at his feet, then motion you to come sit in his lap. Oh you don’t want your clothes getting dirty with the soot? Tough shit, he would get up and drag you to the couch and place you in his lap himself. Harry is VERY touch starved, so any chance he got he was touching you or pulling you into him so he could feel you against him. You could be cooking and he would be behind you instantly, hands wrapped around your waist, watching over your shoulder, rattling your ears with his heavy breathing under the gas mask. Of course you liked that though. When it came to bedtime, if he was staying over, he would be in the bed first. You didn’t want soot and half dried blood all over your bedding? Oh well, guess you’re washing it in the morning, because there’s no shifting this heavy bastard. Soon as you walked into your bedroom he would already be sitting up waiting for you, he would pat your side of the bed, telling you to get in. He didn’t move much through the night, he just held your hand in his leather gloved one. The whole night that is, if you tried to move he would grip your hand tighter.

It was getting darker by the minute as you were getting ready for your night shift, but you couldn’t really focus on anything due to wondering where Harry was. You thought he would have woken you up if stayed over last night but when you woke and looked to his side of the bed, all you seen was the sooty outline of his body. He must have kept quiet, which was strange for him. He usually barges in and the sound of his dense, blood coated pickaxe hitting the floor usually wakes you.

You were getting your bag ready for the night shift but you got knocked out of your thoughts by the banging on your apartments door, you sighed as you placed your bag on the kitchen counter before making your way to answer it. You were hoping it was Harry, you wanted to see if he was doing okay, today of all days, but as you opened the door, to your disappointment, it was just your neighbour from across the corridor. She asked if you knew what all the soot in the hallway was as it came to and from your apartment. You just shook your head and closed the door in her face, you couldn’t be bothered dealing with anyone’s shit right now. You had 30 minutes to get to work and you wanted to fill Harry’s Valentines card out before you left, just in case he came by. You didn’t know how he would react to receiving a card, but you hoped it would be a positive reaction.

You finished writing his card just in time before having to set off to work, you reread it just to double check it sounded okay.

“To my Harry, Happy Valentines Day. It’s our first one together, so I wasn’t sure on getting you a card but I couldn’t resist! Looking forward to seeing you once I’m done with work, lots of love.”

That should do, you thought. You didn’t want to overdo it as it was your first Valentines with him and you weren’t even sure if he wanted to celebrate it in the first place. You sealed the red envelope and left it on the kitchen counter so he would see it as soon as he walked through the door.

You grabbed your bag and hoisted it onto your shoulder as you walked towards your door, as you pulled it open and went to walk out, you were met with those black, sooty overalls. His musky scent filling your senses, you looked up and were met with that gas mask of his, followed by his heavy breathing. “Oh- hey Harry, I was just on my way to work, I got you a card. It’s on the counter if you want it.” You said nervously, as you fidgeted with your bag strap on your shoulder. Harry looked up from your face, leaning slightly to the side to look over your shoulder into the apartment, noticing the red envelope. He looked down to you suddenly, causing your breath to hitch. “I need t-“ before you could even get your sentence out, Harry abruptly swung his left hand from behind his back, you flinched, closing your eyes preparing for the worst. Nothing happened.. as you opened your eyes back up, he was holding out a red, heart shaped box. You were shocked to say the least, you weren’t expecting anything from Harry as you knew he wasn’t fond of Valentines Day. “You- you got me something?” You asked. He nodded, holding the box out closer to you, urging you to take it. “Thank you Harry!” You gushed, taking the box from his gloved hand. You were a bit apprehensive to open it as you had heard the stories of Harry leaving human hearts in chocolate boxes, but as you opened it, you were surprised to see it was actually full of chocolates. A smile lit up your face, which made Harry perk up and fidget a little. “I can’t wait to share these with you later! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around the top of his shoulders, he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly to him. You did feel some dampness as you held him though, and that familiar smell of blood filled your nose, it definitely hadn’t been long since his recent kill.

As gross as it was, you still loved being held by him, but unfortunately, the hug had to end so that you could go to work. “I have to get to work, but I’ll see you later and we can have a nice late night together if you’d like?” You asked. Harry pulled away, looking down at you, he didn’t move for a few seconds, then he shook his head. “No? You don’t want to spend time together tonight?” He nodded, “You do want to? Then what are you saying no to?” He didn’t respond straight away, but then you heard that husky, deep voice you hardly ever hear, “Work.” He edged himself closer to you, causing you to slightly step back. His body stood in the doorframe, taking up the entirety of it, blocking you from leaving. “Harry, I have to go I could get fir-“ He pushed you back into your apartment, causing you to stumble backwards. He slammed the door behind him, dragging his bloody pickaxe and placing it under the door handle, preventing anyone from coming in, he then turned to you. “No.” You felt his voice rattle through you, his tone callous. He wasn’t messing around, you weren’t going to work it seemed. “Okay, well I’ll have to call them and say I can’t make it Harry. I can’t just not turn up.” He stood there, breathing heavily, watching every step you took as you walked to place your bag on the kitchen counter and take your phone out to call your boss. Luckily your boss picked up the phone instantly, you told her you couldn’t make it today as something just came up. She wasn’t happy due to the late notice, but she just told you to make up for it by coming in earlier tomorrow.

As you put the phone down Harry’s frame loosened, he edged closer to the red envelope on the counter. “Go ahead, open it.” You told him. He grabbed it, causing black soot to coat over most of it. He took the card out, staring at the front of it, which had a silhouette of a couple kissing and a banner saying Happy Valentines. He stared for a few seconds, you had never actually kissed Harry. He never takes his mask off in front of you, which bothered you a little bit as it would be nice to feel his lips against yours, and to actually see his eyes instead of those blacked out, glass frames on his gas mask once in a while. He opened it, reading the contents silently. He stayed quiet for a while, before looking up at you, staring at you whilst stroking the card slightly with his gloved thumb. “Do you like it?” You ask, eagerly awaiting his response. He doesn’t say anything, he just places the card back on the counter and starts walking towards you swiftly, you had no idea what he was doing. He had never came at you so aggressively.

Harry was barely even an inch in front of you when he stopped abruptly, towering over your frame, you could feel his gaze burning into you. You were nervous to look up, you didn’t know if this was a good reaction or a bad one. You felt his right hand tug at the hem of your jeans, causing you to stumble even closer into his large frame. “Harry what are yo-“ he put his left gloved hand over your mouth, as you looked up at the glassed eyes of his mask, all you heard was his deep, stern voice “Quiet.” You had no idea what was going on, he had never been this forward before. You nodded, agreeing to not ask questions. He brought both of his hands to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them frantically. He is touch starved after all, he had wanted to touch your body for a long time now, but he was waiting for this day. Considering everyone says it’s the day of love and all that. You didn’t resist, because you wanted this just as much as he did.

He pressed forward, forcing you to move with him, he lowered you onto the couch, giving him the ability to pull your jeans off of your legs, you couldn’t help but blush. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, Harry noticed this, he loved seeing you so flustered. Knowing he had this power over you, it got him even more excited. His member was hardening with each second that passed. He needed you, and you knew how much you needed him. Your jeans were ripped completely off at this point, you felt the cold air hit your bare legs. Harry traced his gloved hand over your white, lace panties, leaving a slight trail of black soot mixed with blood from his finger. His breathing started to get heavier, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Harry got to you in ways no one else ever had, just him looking at you made you weak, never mind all of this. Your t shirt didn’t stay on for long, he yanked that off, nearly causing it to rip from the force. You were left in your white lace bra and panties, the cold air nipping at your skin as his gaze burned into every inch of your being. He was fascinated by your body, so soft, so small, compared to his.

Harry got up suddenly, you had no idea what he was doing, but you were aching for him. He can’t strip you and get you all flustered to just leave. “Where are you going?!” You yelled, to which there was no reply, all you seen was the room go black. He had switched the light off. “Harry?” Nothing. No response, until you heard heavy footsteps inching closer to you, along with leaden breathing. His mask was still on, that’s for sure. You didn’t say anything as you felt his presence approach you, the heavy footsteps from his boots stopping abruptly, inches in front of the couch where you were left waiting for him. “Take them off.” He commanded, causing you to blush and become flustered. “What?” You asked nervously, “You know what. Take them off, or I will.” He growled, causing your whole body to shudder. You shifted in your seat, not sure what to expect next, you put your thumb under the hem of your panties to begin pulling them down, but Harry was impatient. Do you not realise how long he has been waiting to make you his? He lets out a frustrated sigh, emphasised by his mask. All you felt was his gloved hands brushing against your thighs as he pulled your panties down, dropping them to the floor, beside his boots. He could see pretty well in the dark as he had grown accustomed to making his way around down in the dark mines, but you could barely even make out his silhouette, you could only just see his body heaving up and down from his breathing, but you knew he was staring at you. “Mine.” He growled to himself, just loud enough for you to hear, causing even more heat to rush to your core.

The tension between the two of you was agonising, he just stood there taking the sight of you in, making you wait. Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know how much this was affecting you? You heard him move ever so slightly, from what you could make out in the dark, he had lowered himself onto one knee. His gas mask level with your face, before you could react, you felt his leather gloved hands push your legs open, causing you to lose balance and slide down the couch slightly, you gasped and stabilised yourself with your hands either side of you. Harry was brushing his right hand up your right thigh, causing a streak of blood and soot to trail up your leg. He loved seeing blood on your skin, it was like art to him. Knowing his most recent kill was marked on you, this made him start breathing rather erratically. He found it so hot. He couldn’t resist, you felt one of his gloved fingers enter your heat, moving it in and out ever so slowly at first, causing you to melt into his touch as he put a second finger in. You hadn’t been touched there in so long, you had forgotten how it felt. You didn’t even care that he left his bloodstained, soot covered glove on as his fingers eased in and out of you, making your breathing heavy and your body feel waves of pleasure. Harry was fascinated by how wet you were for him, your fluids mixing with the small amount of blood made him throb from excitement. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to feel your warm, sticky core taking his cock. He couldn’t resist it any longer, his fingers left you, making you feel empty. You heard him get up from the floor, he was stood upright now, looking down at you. You heard the zip to his black, mining coveralls coming undone. You were yearning for him, you wanted him inside of you so bad. Every second felt like a minute, but this is Harry. You won’t be getting what you want just yet, he made you feel good just now, time to return the favour. “Sit up.” He ordered, you did as you were told, you couldn’t see as it was still pitch black in the room, but Harry’s length was solid, and of course, the only thing that could ease it was you. Your mouth was at the perfect height to take his cock, and you better believe he is going to take advantage of your pretty little mouth. You felt his gloved hand stroke your cheek, then his thumb tracing your lips. “Open up for me.” He growled, you obliged, opening your mouth, all the while still aching to feel him inside you. You felt the tip of his cock brush past your lips, onto your tongue, filling your mouth, causing your tastebuds to twang. You were expecting him to taste dirty, considering he hadn’t showered in a few days, but he didn’t. You didn’t know what soot tasted like, but you do now. The chalky substance soon watered down once Harry started gently thrusting his cock in and out of your slick mouth, brushing his hands through your hair, “Good girl, yes. That’s my good girl.” He muttered over and over every time you took the full length of him inside your mouth and down your throat, causing you to slightly gag. Harry wasn’t exactly small, you had never had someone this size. He was both girthy and long, perfectly evened out. This was a slight concern though, you kept thinking about how much smaller than him you were, hopefully he wouldn’t go too rough when he is inside you. Or hopefully he will.

Harry’s breathing was slower and heavier. You tasted his pre-cum overtake your tongue just before he slowly pulled out of your mouth, “Good girl, now stand up.” He commanded. You wiped the slight mix of saliva and Harry’s pre-cum from your lips with your hand as you lifted yourself up off of the couch. “Why?” You asked, eagerly awaiting his response. To which he never gave you an answer, he leant down, grabbing the backs of your thighs with his gloved hands, one with some of the fingers still wet from being inside of you. He lifted up against him, you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he lead you both towards the bedroom. This caused your heart to feel like it was beating out of your chest, all you could hear was his heavy breathing from under his mask and the heavy footsteps of his boots leading you to the bed. He booted the door to the bedroom open with ease, rushing inside, placing you down onto the bed. He leant down, arms reaching around your back to undo your bra. He unclipped it with such ease, tossing it to the side, “Lay down.” He instructed. You laid back, anticipating his next move, you were craving his body against yours, every time he touched you it was like a fiery blaze rushed through your entire being. It was darker in the bedroom than it was out in the living room and kitchen area, so you couldn’t really see Harry at all. You heard the sound of metal unclipping, followed by the sound of a rush of air coming out of his mask. He’d taken it off, for the first time he was maskless, right in front of you. You wanted to see his face so bad but you knew to respect his privacy, if he wanted to show you his face, he would in his own time. The sound of him unlacing his boots and stepping out of his coveralls came next, you now knew he was completely naked. He doesn’t wear anything under his mining gear, which made your stomach flutter with excitement. You felt the bed lower as he got onto it, moving towards you. You felt him leaning over your body, peering down at you. “Don’t turn a light on, or you’ll know about it.” He growled, “I won’t” you replied, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Good girl. Now lay still.” His voice was so deep even without the gas mask, you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation. He lowered himself so that he was inches away from your face, you heard him inhale through his nose, taking in your scent. He hadn’t smelt you without the gas mask before, and your scent drove him crazy. He pressed his surprisingly soft lips against yours, caressing your face with his bare hand as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. “So- precious.” He whispered between the kisses, his lips sent you into some kind of frenzy, you couldn’t get enough of him, it was so nice to finally feel his lips and skin against yours for once, instead of his leather gloves and rough coveralls.

Harry began to lower his hands, caressing your breasts as he buried his face into your neck, kissing it unrelentingly. He craved every inch of you, he couldn’t help himself, his hands started to feel up and down your waist and hips, his teeth sinking into your skin with teasing bites, causing you to wince and moan at the painful pleasure. Harry is gentle, but once his animalistic side gets the better of him, his dominance shows. He pushed himself up, parting your legs and readying his cock at your entrance. You didn’t have time to prepare as he slid himself into you, he stretched you out so fast, you felt your walls clenching around his length, causing you to gasp and moan with the pleasurable shock. He was relentless, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust to his size before pounding into you, his right hand reaching down to your throat and gripping with force, causing your breathing to hitch. He loved seeing you so helpless, taking his cock like a good girl whilst the hands he has used to kill so many were on you, he could kill you right now if he wanted to, whilst fucking you senseless. This sent him into a frenzy, he lowered both of his hands to your hips, gripping them to give him the stability to pound every inch of himself into you. You didn’t even have time to catch your breath from him choking you before he made you breathless again, his cock reaching parts of your core you didn’t even know were reachable. You couldn’t focus on anything but the pleasure rising with every stroke of his member thrusting deeply into your heat, you were so close to cumming that you had to grab onto him forearms to keep yourself stable, you were surprised you hadn’t both fallen off of the bed from the sheer force he was ramming into you. Your body feeling jolts of pleasure throughout it every time Harry thrusted himself all the way into you, hitting the spot just right. Harry was nearing his edge too, he couldn’t get over how tight you were and how well you fit around his cock. His little angel looked so dirty with the soot and bloodstains from his hands all over your body and throat, causing him to buck into you with every ounce of energy he had left, making you hit your climax as he railed into the deepest part of you, whilst hitting your clit just right, “Oh god- Harry yes, YES.” You whined euphorically, hearing you moan his name drove Harry wild, knowing he made you feel so good with his cock, it made him pound into you mercilessly, feeling your tight, wet walls engulf every inch of him, he gripped your throat once again, just to see you at his mercy as he unloads himself into your heat. “Yes, yes. Good girl, su- such a good girl for me.” He moaned, whilst tightening his grip on your throat, making your vision blur. All you could feel was his cock throbbing against your walls as his cum oozed into you. His breathing erratic, he lowered himself back down to you, easing his grip around your neck, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Mine.” He whispered, rolling off of you. He had claimed you as his. You couldn’t believe what you had just experienced, you knew your first time with Harry would be amazing, but you couldn’t even think straight because of how much he had just devoured you.

You heard Harry get up off of the bed, and begin to get dressed again. You heard his coveralls zip up, then his mask click back into place and his breathing become rattled and heavy again. He switched the light back on once he was his ‘normal self’. He just stood, staring at you, his chest heaving in and out. “I’m going to get in the shower, you can come in with me if you like?” You asked, hoping he would agree because he definitely needed one after that. He shook his head and replied, “After.” To which you gathered was because he still wasn’t ready for you to see his face just yet. As you went into the bathroom, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had just happened. He usually hates this day, but this was the best day he’d had in a long time. He won’t ever tell you that though. He went out into the kitchen, heading towards the door to get his pickaxe, but before he reached it, the card you had gotten him caught his attention. He was staring at the couple kissing on the front of it, it had been so long since he had kissed someone. Feeling your lips against his made him feel something he hasn’t felt in a long time, he never thought he’d feel love on Valentine’s Day ever again. But you proved him wrong. He shook himself out of his thoughts, Harry was an old fashioned man. He didn’t think dwelling on feelings was necessary. So he put the card into his coverall chest pocket, and headed to his pickaxe.

You stepped into the hot shower, the beads of water caressing and cleaning your recently devoured body. You didn’t know, but Harry was watching you from the slight crack in the door. What you weren’t expecting, was five minutes into your shower, to feel his presence right behind you. As you looked to the floor of the shower, you seen the black, soot filled water running down the drain. You froze for a minute, not knowing whether to turn around, but you couldn’t resist. You really wanted to see his face. As you turned, you seen his chest first, which had dark brown hairs and scars scattered across it, you lifted your hands to brush over them, he has been through so much. You knew not all of these scars were just from his victims fighting back, some of them were from when the mine collapsed. It hurt knowing how alone he must have been for so many years. You looked up and were met with his dark, icy blue eyes, they were gorgeous. His hair was a dark brown and his skin pale, which was no surprise because how on earth would this guy get any sun wearing that mining get up everyday. You couldn’t help but stare, he was so handsome. Your gaze made him look away, no one had seen his face in so many years and he wasn’t used to getting looked upon for so long. You lifted your hand to his face, turning his head, making him face you again. “Thank you, Harry.” He looked down at you, before suddenly getting out of the shower and tugging the shower curtain back over, you could hear him putting his coveralls and mask back on from the other side. You stalled for a minute, giving him some space, then you went to open the curtain but he beat you to it. You were met with the blacked out glass frames of his mask, “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel.” He whispered, as he backed up and lowered himself onto the chair in the corner of the bathroom, leaning forward, his legs slightly apart, resting his arms on them while spinning his pickaxe in his hands as he watched you finish cleaning up the body he had just claimed.

I’m sorry it’s so long and it took a while to release! I thought it would be good to release it on Valentine’s Day 😂 but I hope you like it! 🤍🤍

[riverdale-retread]

Riverdale S5 E16 (Band of Brothers) - 5 Things I Loved / 3 Things to Consider

5 Things I loved:

The word that came to me for some reason after the end of this episode was Götterdämmerung ( collapse (as of a society or regime) marked by catastrophic violence and disorder) even though most of what happens in the episode is so very quiet and mostly in intimate conversations, and the episode was punctuated by moments of levity.

1. I loved how momentous and monumental the tete-a-tete between Betty and Jughead in the bunker felt.  This conversation was a very serious attempt at permanently destabilizing the centrality of Bughead in favor of - to my surprise - Jughead’s journey, in coming into an identity as simply Forsythe P. Jones III, and not a writer, not Betty’s support, not Archie’s mythologizer. 

But before we get to that - I was frankly shocked at how brutally the show drove home the point that Bughead 1.0 is no more.  Y’all, that was mean.  

By the time they are meeting in the bunker, Jughead knows that Betty gave away his manuscript wholesale to Jessica, and has effectively ended his budding career as a writer. The contempt shown to his work by a woman he thinks of as his guardian angel makes him give up on close to everything - his sobriety and his ethics.  

Jughead apologizes to her about the one act of aggression he’s ever perpetrated on her (the voicemail) partly because he’s actually sorry (because he’s Jughead, and he’s always sorry) but mostly to model behavior for Betty: When you fuck up with someone you care about, this is how you apologize.  He says he’s “trying to clean up my side of the tracks” - hinting in the broadest possible way that she has something on her side to clean up as well.  Then he does something that I’ve never seen him do before.  Jughead observes Betty clinically, eyes cold & clear.  It was reminiscent of how he looked at Gladys once he realized what she was up to. 

Betty’s meaningful non-responses were powerful and I LOVED the tension.  Jughead tries to up the ante - I AM IN RECOVERY - and then takes a deliberate sip of alcohol.   And then hammers it home - I’M AN ALCOHOLIC. No response. AN ADDICT.  No response.   Then she says, I think I’m an addict too. The net effect of which is: Enough about you, shut up now and listen to me talk about my problems.  

This is so stunningly callous because Betty witnessed FP being a failed drunkard of a father to Jughead when they were children. She really doesn’t care. (Whether this is because she doesn’t want to care or because she can’t due to trauma is interpretation. The fact is that she doesn’t).

Jughead’s mounting despair that it’s NOT working, because trying to make Betty respond to him and his concerns is impossible, leads to a very double-entendre statement: Classic Cooper.  His relationship with the Coopers as a whole isn’t friendly, and one of the mainstays of the Bughead relationship was that these two kids could form a new thing, without contamination from the elder Coopers and Joneses. Wincing with effort, Jughead gives being the Jughead of Bughead 1.0 one last go - being her support, being endlessly forgiving, while not saying what he needs to say, not asking the questions he needs to ask.  

The absolute contempt Betty dealt Jughead in the time jump also shocked me.  She chose her job over Jughead, which can happen, but it was so the natural order of things that this is what she should do, that she didn’t even explain why she couldn’t come. He defends his sanity by saying that “It’s ALL ancient history” mostly because the present is pretty miserable and this is a fresh wound.   

The second that Jughead makes himself  unavailable to make Betty's concerns about herself his number one priority she jets.   The privileged final reaction shot goes to Jughead, who really still can’t believe she’d do that.  And she’s precisely why he lost the agent, the contract, the identity as a writer.  And Jughead Jones, secular Bodhisattva, forgives even this and reverts to worrying about Betty.

2. I love the very gentle and subtle developments given to the Adult Jughead that serve as a corrective to his most self-harming traits.  Jughead loses everything in this episode once again - his teaching job, the professionals-together adult relationship he liked so much with Waldo Weatherbee (he’s a troubled student once more), the relationship with his agent, his contract with his publishing house, his identity as a writer, and his seven days’ worth of sobriety.  But as an adult he’s not plagued by the self-aggrandizing perfectionism that drove him to seek death (like Aslan, like Jesus) when things went awry. Now he’s a person who seeks support for the problem he has, and can resignedly cope with the idea that he’s at this point barely ‘a busboy.’   This is because he keeps exactly three small but not insignificant things - the last thread of his morals as a writer, his job at Pop’s which is his only real home, and his connection with Tabitha. 

Sidebar:  Tabitha Tate is designed to be very lovable, and she’s played with such charm and warmth by a beautiful actress, so of course I love her.  But they did this to me with Jughead Jones, where they got my buy-in for the lovable boy he was, and then proceeded to, well, do all this to him, so I’m trying to guard my heart.

3. I loved the weirdness of the  theology that Cheryl and Kevin are putting together, though I do not love that I am liking Kevin less and less. (insert that We Were All Rooting For You gif.  See also my essays in support of Kevin as an unacknowledged alpha.)   Catholicism (and all the other off shoots) was assembled, edited, revised and rebooted wholesale over time, and we’re seeing the Blossom Faith go through the same steps in its incipient stages.  Riverdale, making interesting commentary on the evolution of all of Christianity.  By the way, the misogyny built into what the two younger people are doing is stark.  Cheryl shared a womb with The Holy Jason which makes her the greater authority.  However, Penelope, the OWNER of the womb, the gestator of The Holy Jason, can be cast out. (Because Kevin has issues with his mother and Cheryl’s OTP gave birth and she is feeling some type of way about it).  

A forehead stigmata would ruin Cheryl’s exquisite eye make up so she went with the mascara-friendly hand-stigmata.  Further, neither Kevin nor Cheryl actually studied religion in any sort of way, so I think they actually don’t know about Crown of Thorns stigmata.  There’s also a very funny hidden joke in there about Cheryl secretly researching canonization between her first and last conversations with Kevin.  She starts the episode saying “being canonized is a life goal” of hers, but by the end she’s googled that the Catholic way of counting saints’ miracles starts with THEIR DEATH because it’s supposed to be proof that they’re in heaven, so she rolls her eyes at the idea of being “a living saint” like she knew this bit all along.  She also was confusing angels with saints (saints don’t get wings).  And in any case, she had such a good time during the masses that she and Kevin held that she’s decided she wants to be the Jesus/Jason herself rather than anointed by such.  What I’m not clear on however, is why they all went with Catholicism as the base, because Cheryl’s ecstatic, shivery “Queen of the Beeeeees” seemed much more charismatic revivalist sort of a thing. Maybe she’ll pivot in that direction. 

Sidebar: Penelope Blossom saying “Jason was a young man of few words” made me guffaw and then feel very bad for the actor cast to be Jason Blossom. What a weird job this must be. 

Second Sidebar: Did anyone else notice that Penelope can control fire? When she says STOP to rescue us from the Andrew Lloyd Musical medley that Cheryl & Kevin want to perpetuate, the fireplace roars in agreement. 

4. Reggie’s line deliveries were, each of them, absolutely delicious. I mean, Reggie has always been a dish but he’s got a knack for spicing things up! (I’m sorry I’ll stop with this now).  He’s SUCH a fun character.  And why is Hiram creating these intensely Freudian relationships with young people all the time?  Reggie wanted to be Hiram’s Son-He-Never-Had, but also has fucked both his daughters.   Reggie getting increasingly squeaky as he has to tell Veronica that he’s been with Hermosa was funny, and I was truly amused by the way he walked back into frame after that conversation with Hermosa like he’d just strained his groin muscle.  His jazzy slide into the seat that Hiram sat in for the auction for palladium doubloons was terrific but I wish it had been in focus.

5.  I love that the show insists Archie’s fate is to be always written about and presented to others in ways he doesn’t feel fit with who and how he really is.  He has to constantly cope with not matching up to what someone else wrote him as being.  The letters that his platoon’s men sent home about Archie indicate that this urge to write words about Archie is not unique to Jughead Jones.   I also wondered at the war-deads’ families acting like their brother or son was a puppy they left at Archie’s dogwalking service.  How the hell is a single sergeant supposed to determine whether an active combatant soldier makes it home or not?  But all that is pinned on Archie’s shoulders because he can’t help but inspire this hero-worship, protagonist-making scribbling. 

3 Things to Consider

a) One of the Götterdämmerung, things fall apart, bits could’ve been Archie’s disillusionment with the army.  That’s where it started, in this season, with the clearly villainous general and then the army censoring the free press, rewarding the wrong people, neglecting veterans and families of the war dead.  But I guess because this is Hollywood and you’re not allowed to say anything truly critical about the American military in a Hollywood production, UNCLE FUCKING FRANK has to say the line THE ARMY GOT IT RIGHT.  I hate Uncle Fucking Frank and how they use him.  Bringing him in at all was an act of cowardice and make-do by the show (they never quite know what to do with Archie so he needs some sort of daddy to talk things out with), and now he is the mouthpiece for this stupid piece of acquiescence to the military industrial complex. 

b)  Veronica is going through her own transition as well, but because Hiram has been such a monster in so many ways it’s a little hard to invest a lot of concern into her slow transition into becoming Hiram altogether.  She isn’t defeating her father, she’s becoming him.  Her consistent reliance on the eye-for-an-eye method of coping feels less than triumphant, even when she appears to ‘win.’

c) The show’s wry sharp commentary about writers, writing and publication continues.  Consider Cora - she had to stalk Jughead Jones, risk rejection by coming up to him in a bar, become a groupie, and then still had to rely on the sudden appearance of knee-cap breaking debt collectors to even make Jughead take (and not read) her manuscript.  And she missed having her work stolen from her wholesale by a hair - the last vestiges of Jughead Jones’ sense of self and morals, which he was only able to hang on to by the miracle that is the care and concern of one Tabitha Tate.

[local-ground-apple]

Hiii! I just read the short reader fighting bullies with the dorm leaders and I loved it! Can I have a one-shot little sis of Azul, joining the leech twins in fighting people? Like his reactions on how he doesn’t want his little sister getting into trouble but yeeting herself to it. Thank you! Or you can do a gender neutral, I don’t mind🤗

alternative title: Azul basically has mom on speed dial

AZUL: You’re here just to flirt with twins, beat some people and stare at Jade’s butt

Y/N: No?

AZUL: I have mom on speed dial and I’ll be watching you, so be careful

Y/N: See, this is why mom doesn’t love you!

oh, and the headcanons anon mentioned are here

,,Ahhh, Kurage-chan~~ Squeeze a bit harder!!!”

“And here comes the sting~~”

Azul signed deeply hearing two cheerful voice while the bloody massacre was unfolding behind the closed door of his cabinet. He adjusted his glasses and flicked his pen nervously.

Oh, how he hated this.

You would visit him once a while in the academy as you always carefully worded it “because mom was worried and she sends you a package”, while he knew very well that you weren’t there for him.

Oh no, no.

You were there for Leech twins. 

Or more accurately, for the violence, squeezing and drawing blood from poor, unfortunate souls. You were a rather volatile, callous and ruthless creature. In some aspects you reminded him of Floyd. With a bright, innocent smile you would mercilessly crush the bones with your stinging tentacles sending the electric waves with just mere touch of your finger.

Speaking of Floyd, you and him were the definition of “prepare for trouble and make it double” or thrice, since Jade would often join you two.

And to think you were younger than Azul..

Azul frowned and let out a barely audible “tch” when he heard your pearly giggle followed by low chuckle and Floyd’s cruel laughter.

When the limp body hit his door once again, Azul finally lost his calm and collected composure and stepped out of the door. He certainly wasn’t impressed or surprised when he saw the trail of unconscious bodies laying on the floor adorned with crimson droplets.

At least you weren’t in your real form, remarked Azul.

You stood between Leech twins, who in Azul’s humble opinion were way too close to his little sister. Floyd’s arm loosely hang around your shoulder as his sharp teeth nibbled on the soft skin of your neck, while Jade’s hand was intertwined with yours and his lips were leaving wet trail of kisses on your collarbone.

Sometimes Azul preferred not to know what type of relationship you three shared. Sometimes he pretended it was just kicking someone’s butt.

,,Y/N, we need to talk”

His icy voice dripping with annoyance made you turn your attention from Jade’s warm lips to him entirely. You could almost feel a shiver running down your spine, as you gently pushed your way out of twins’ squeezing embrace. You gently hoped over bloody bodies, not sparing even a glance at them and made your way to Azul’s cabinet, while your step brother with a wave of his hand commanded Leech twins to clean this atrocious massacre.

 ,,I don’t think you should be participating in those matters. Leech twins are more than capable of handling that on their own and what if you get hurt one day?”

Remarked Azul. You could sense the frustration and affection for you in his voice. You were his younger sister after all and he did care about you. Azul wasn’t fond of your violent free time activities. 

,,I’m a deadly creature of the sea, I can take care of myself”

You stated with confidence and you were met with Azul’s scowl in return. The corners of his lips curled in small smirk. You almost made him amused.

“You’re literally a jellyfish”

“BUT A DEADLY JELLYFISH”

You pouted at his words and then proceeded to enter “I’m as mighty as you, but can your tentacles sting?” mode. Azul wasn’t mistaken. You were his dear, younger step sister. You two shared a mom, but had a different dad.

And you were a jellyfish. A deadly one, as you always fondly said.

Azul often viewed you as a fragile, benevolent and affable sea creature. The way your pinkish tentacles gently swayed in the sea, how you sparkled in the water whenever sun rays would reach your transparent form, how you could sent sparks through other organisms. Truly endearing.

Yet, instead of being a sophisticated and elegant sea being, you preferred to join cruel Leech twins in their bloody excursions.

,,I know you just hang out here because of Leech twins, but please Y/N refrain from those actions. I simply don’t want you getting into troubles or seeing you injured”

You crossed your arms over your chest. How many times have you heard that? How many times Azul had tried to stop you from fighting people with outstanding debts? You lost the count after 34th attempt. You sighed frustrated and annoyed with the conversation,

,,You’re not my mom”

‘’I’m your older brother”

Azul was quick to respond again in his calm voice, while your patience was running low. You threw your hands with frustration, as you began to feel irritated with each passing second.

“You’re not my real brother”

You remarked and Azul’s eyes widen slightly. He clenched his fists and for the first time you today you had seen him losing his calmness in front of you.

“You take that back”

You eyed him with slightly narrowed eyes in the complete silence. You both stared at each other, having a silent competition, waiting for the first person to lose. You sighed deeply, running a hand through your disheveled hair. You knew how much Azul cherished your relationship and how he always insisted that he was your big brother. You decided to back off today.

,,Okay, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t mean I will stop hanging out with tweels”

Your bored voice probably triggered Azul and forced him to pull the most deadly card from his sleeve. You saw him sighing deeply for the umpteenth time this evening, before a bright smile found his way on his lips.

And that made you worried. Azul’s cunning and false smile always spelled a upcoming catastrophe and doom. It seemed like your heart stopped for a moment and you wanted nothing more than to curl inside your pot entangled by your stingy tentacles.

,,That’s it. I’m calling mom”

,,W-wait! nO!!”

 BONUS

,,Ahhh, remember that one time I tried to squeeze Kurage-chan, but she stung me? That was so, so cute~~”

,,Oh, I suppose we simply enjoy woman with character”

“I swear to Sea Witch if you continue talking about my sister within the 5 kilometers of me, I will personally destroy you”

“Woooahhh, how scary~~~~~”

btw, Kurage is a jellyfish

[shinichirosbabymama]

Can you do headcannons for Levi x reader where he finds out his s/o is pregnant and how he is finding out, and during the pregnancy and birth? Thank you!

Ugh yes!! I think I'm getting old because thinking about Levi as a dad makes me simp even more than I already do for him 😩💞 like pls be my baby daddy

**********************************************

Finding Out

- There's two very different ways this could go depending on whether the pregnancy is planned or unplanned.

- Planned: As Levi is super organised and would likely be planning the optimum times for you to have sex from the moment you start trying, he would probably be able to predict that you might be pregnant quicker than you can.

- He would badger you with questions constantly. 'Do you feel sick? Does this smell bad to you? Do your boobs hurt?'

- It would get on your nerves a bit but you would keep your mouth shut, not wanting to get his hopes up until you had a positive test. You would be so happy to tell him once the test was confirmed, knowing that you can give him what he wants so badly.

- You'd sit him down and tell him calmly over a cup of tea. He would be stunned to silence for a few seconds.

- 'Are you sure?' 'I'm sure, Levi.'

- You'd be blessed with one of those (rare) smiles. I think he would be quite self-conscious about his own reaction - don't expect tears and jumping for joy - but you know inside he's processing a complicated mix of joy and fear so you give him the space he needs. He's quiet for a few hours but when you fall asleep that night, he keeps an arm firmly wrapped around your lower abdomen, Ackerman instinct already in overdrive for the life inside you.

- Unplanned: Telling Levi you've unexpectedly fallen pregnant would be terrifying. You love him dearly and this will inevitably change your relationship - you have no idea if for better or worse.

- You would agonize over the right way to tell him for ages. Eventually you realise there's not truly any right way and it just comes out when he's probing you about your 'off' behaviour.

- Levi would absolutely be caught off guard by the revelation. He's not stupid but it's genuinely the last thing he would have considered when trying to work out why you've been acting so weird. He's got a great wit but this leaves him absolutely speechless.

- 'Look, I'm pregnant.' Cue silence for like a whole ass minute before you get frustrated.

- 'Can you please just say something?' 'What do you want me to say?' And like damn, that makes you so angry because you rehearsed this conversation in your head so many times and he's not sticking to the script.

- It's way too hard for you to deal with in your vulnerable state and you bail out of there to cool off. I think realistically Levi would need a few days to get his head together and you would probably be panicking that he's ghosted you.

- Eventually he would come to find you. He's told himself not to be too business-like about this because he feels very strongly for you but he still wants to be firm about what he wants.

- You let him speak and he lays it all out on the table. 'I want to raise this child with you.' 'I want us to live together.' 'I want us to be a...family.' that last one is the hardest part to say and it makes his chest hurt to say it - he thinks about how hard it must have been for his own mom doing it all alone and how his family was taken from him.

- You're pretty shocked by it all. You didn't expect him to be callous or anything but you thought he would be less accepting and would want you to 'handle it' somehow.

- At the end of his plan, he asks you if you accept and you just nod at him. Then he suddenly leans in and you wonder wtf he's about to do because it's very out of character for him to initiate a kiss outside of anything sexual but he needs a big gesture to show he's serious about all this. So he kisses you and it's tender and warm and you think things might not be so terrible after all.

During Pregnancy

- Hormones are evil and are one snarky bitch throughout the whole thing and Levi learns new levels of patience (probably a good thing since he's about to have a kid)

- Pregnancy fucks with his Ackerman instinct majorly too and he's even more protective than usual. Most of the time you appreciate it but it gets old when he won't let you out of his sight for anything. You can't even lift a plate without him darting to your side and trying to snatch it from your hands.

- 'Idiot. You're pregnant - let me do that.' He scolds you only for you to respond 'Pregnancy is not a disability moron and don't call me an idiot.'

- Despite being his usual but over protective self around others, he's surprisingly soft when it's just the two of you. He gently massages and kneads your back when it aches and rubs your feet when they swell up.

- He's happy to talk to your bump - he agrees that the baby needs to get used to his voice but he absolutely refuses to use cute baby speak.

- 'Let mom sleep little brat.' He grumbles in the middle of the night as he strokes your stomach.

- Levi is very OTT when it comes to baby proofing your house. You've still got a month left and there is not a corner, plug socket, or sharp object in the house.

- 'They won't even be crawling for six months you are so extra.' You roll your eyes one day watching him testing the bookcase against the wall. 'We need to get into the habit now.' He argues back and you think dork.

- Levi Ackerman says fuck toxic masculinity. Preparing for this baby is 50/50 every step of the way. Well in reality more like 30/70 - you learn that he's insanely bossy when it comes to picking out their clothes, toys, prams.

- 'Disgusting.' He scowls one day at a tiny hat you show him. 'Levi it's a baby it won't know the concept of disgusting.' 'No child of mine will be seen in that.'

- You decide to wait on the baby's sex until it's born. You prefer to have a surprise whereas Levi literally does not care about whether it's a boy or a girl. For now, it's just known affectionately as the brat.

During Birth

- You try to it but goddam you are terrified - of the pain, the gore, the huge amount of change your lives are about to go through.

- Levi is calm and collected as always. He knows the risks. He's researched and sourced the best medical team he can access and is confident it'll go to plan.

- He's surprisingly sympathetic during the birth - the pain that you feel is reflected in the grimace on his face as you squeeze the life out of his hand. He keeps himself occupied, mopping your sweaty brow as you thrash around. It kills him to see you like this but he focuses on the end goal and how much joy it's about to bring you.

- No matter how people try to sell it to you - the pain is bad, possibly the worse ever. You swear bloody murder at everyone, Levi included, the whole time and he just takes it.

- 'I hate you for making me go through this you bastard. We are never doing this again.' 'Yes love.' He responds, stroking your hand as you grit your teeth.

- The only time you see his resolve start to crack is right at the end. He's even paler than usual as he watches the baby being delivered. You're slightly concerned that he might vomit/pass out/start screaming but he keeps it together enough to take the bundle passed to him. Not even complaining that the tiny life in his hands is covered in blood and mucus.

- Levi passes him (a boy!!) to you almost immediately, not trusting him not to drop the poor thing as he feels dizzy. You take him on your chest, letting a few tears fall as you stroke the mop of jet black hair on his head.

- 'He's beautiful.' You cry, looking at his tiny fingernails as the baby whimpers quietly at his new harsh environment. 'He is.' Levi mumbles in response and presses a kiss to your head. You know he's hiding his face on purpose - eyes misty and trembling. You get it, he's at his most vulnerable, and the two of you enjoy a quiet moment together just observing the life you've created.

[dangermousie]

Look at those arms! MMMMM!

You know, I really like Gilina. Or, more correctly, I really like what Gilina represents, both in terms of Crichton’s development and in his feelings for Aeryn. Gilina is Earth Crichton’s dream girl: she is blonde, pretty, sweet, and plucky (she is no push-over). She is also a girl geek, and a techie and for our scientist, that’s quite irresistibly appealing. (Btw, let me take a moment to note how much I like that the show showed us that Crichton had a type in women, B.A. (before Aeryn): they were blonde and sweet and had a certain safe niceness to them. Aeryn is not blonde, not sweet, and not safe at all. And neither is his feeling for her). If Gilina was a girl working for a research institute on Earth and she and John met at some party, I can easily see them talking, dating, falling in love and getting married. And having a happy married life. And the John of ‘PK Tech Girl,’ despite some unpleasant encounters in the Uncharted Territories is still enough of the Earth John to be attracted to Gilina, to be at the very beginning of developing something for her. He is still enough of an innocent, with enough uncomplicated and sweet left in him, for Gilina to be his type. But of course, that is not the case any more when they meet again in ‘Nerve.’ When they meet again, Gilina has had a fairly uneventful PK tech existence. She hasn’t changed much. But she is not Crichton’s type any more. Not after Maldis and finding out firsthand that there are psychopaths that will just enjoy watching you die for the fun of it, not after Crais and finding out that no, if you only explain the truth, it won’t make it better. The person will still want to kill you even if they believe you, even if it’s wrong and irrational, and there is nothing you can do. Not after ‘Jeremiah Crichton’ (my least fave ep of the whole show, but whose theme of Crichton’s long isolation is well taken). Not after finding out the truth about Zhaan, or almost dying out there in space with Aeryn. Not after the mind and soul fuck of ‘A Human Reaction.’   Gilina is not for this John. Not any more. And it’s not just that in the meanwhile he’s ceased to see anyone but Aeryn. It is also that his character has changed. And that is only the beginning. When he meets her in ‘Nerve’ it is pre-Scorpius, pre-Aurora Chair, pre-everything in S2, 3 and 4 (I’d do a list but it would take too long to type). If Gilina met S4 Crichton, she’d freak and run away and rightly so. A digression, but I find it fascinating how John's non-Aeryn women reflect his change. We have his ex-gf on Earth who he was serious enough to apparently want to propose to, before they went their separate career way. She is sort of like Gilina only blander, less engaging (Earth Crichton strikes me as someone who's had things come to him too easily because of his intelligence or what not. His passion (for whatever) was never truly engaged to the full, and the gf reflects that.) There is also Caroline (who we meet in Terra Firma) with whom he had something or other, but she is rather like his Earth-ex and it's clear the Crichton of TF doesn't even have anything to say to her any more. From them, we progress to Gilina (about whom see above). In first half of S2, there is the PK Disruptor. Now, she is a lot more edges, more hardness. If she is like anyone, it's a female version of Bond. And Crichton sleeps with her, because hey, he's tried everything to get Aeryn to admit any interest, he's beaten his head against the rock and he's beaten it and beaten it. But she refused and she's conclusively walked out of his life for good (not even came to see him for the very last time, when he needed her most). And also, girl can kill him, good to stay on her good side. There is no Gilina sweetness in her, at all. PK Tech Girl Crichton would annoy her and be intimidated to be with her, not so much Crichton of that s2 ep arc. But interestingly, that is the last time he even looks at another woman, no matter the circumstances. Once Aeryn and he admit their love to each other at the end of S2/beginning of S3, that is it. Even at the second part of S3, when Aeryn is off with Talyn-Crichton, Moya-Crichton goes deep into his obsession with wormholes, not any girls at all, and he is just as obsessed with Aeryn as ever. Even after the end of S3, the beginning of S4, even after he tells Aeryn "I can trust you with my life. But not my heart" and he locks himself away, he still does not look at anyone else. He cannot. And even the drugs cannot knock her out from his mind. Which is why his last non-Aeryn woman is Grayza, who rapes him while at the same time telling him if he gives her the wormhole stuff she will help him find Aeryn (OMG, that bit is seriously the worst in the whole scene). I think the darker progression of these women-others mirrors the darker and darker universe. OK, digression over.   I find it interesting that in S1 we have a number of people (beings, whatever) whose life is affected, changed by Crichton and who are grateful for that and thank him for changing/opening/saving either explicitly, or it’s implied. But after S1 this slows to a trickle pretty fast and then stops almost entirely. Crichton is such an innately kind person, and one of the saddest things in the show is seeing this kindness leach away under the tortures (literal and figurative) he is subjected to. I find it so sad and so significant that in the S3 finale it’s Aeryn who brings up the fact that the command carrier has a lot of lives which John’s plan might end. Aeryn. Not John. She’s become more compassionate (she, who started out saying ‘I hate that word’) and he’s become much less. These are both reactions to their environment, to events they are in (When they initially meet, she is a product of an individuality-less, soulless scenario. Even if he is wrong in reading her at the very very first in Premiere during intros, he is not wrong in reading her potential, in recognizing she is a person, and even as early as Premiere she proves him right. I also love that for Crichton, she is always her own person, not a preconceived notion of what she should be. He loves her for being Aeryn, not for some idealized being in his head). And yet it is never completely suppressed, it is always there, however muted and downtrodden, however circumscribed. He had to jettison most of it in order to stay sane and to survive, but somewhere deep inside he is still the guy who, in a completely strange world, took the time to fix the eye-stalk of a mechanical critter thingy he didn’t know at all.   And of course, part of the reason he jettisons it is also because whenever he tries to save someone or make it better, it often ends up making the situation worse. I am thinking for example of S3’s lovely ‘Different Destinations’ which turns a beloved sci-fi trope on its head and he has to live with it and he can barely bear it.   And I love how the show never lets us forget the cost this takes on him, that he is not a power-hungry psychopath, a cavalier callous being only caring about his small group of friends. That coda to S4’s ‘We Are So Screwed’ where he is with Aeryn, and he breaks down, and he can’t help it, and he weeps for what he’d done, for what he almost did (and it’s going to be small fry in comparison with PKW) is just brilliant and heartbreaking and one of my favorite bits (and I love that she is there, and she silently comforts him, and he clutches her arm as a lifeline). And that is why I actually liked the drug storyline in S4. After all the stuff that Crichton been through, I am surprised he didn’t end up going on something earlier, just to deal with it all somehow (I love that the show brought up earlier that he has nightmares, feels tremendous guilt, and that was mid S2, I am sure they are much worse now). And it also made sense that when his number 1 obsession, Aeryn, told him to give it up, he did, as he’d pick her over anything. She’s his number 1 drug. Basically, he needs Aeryn desperately. She is what allows him to function, allows him to stay (relatively) sane, what holds him together. When he can’t have her, or doesn’t have her, he falls apart and needs something else to get through the days (wormholes in S3, lakka in S4). I do find it interesting that Crichton keeps his compassion, however tattered, but he develops absolute priorities, as a result of choices he shouldn’t have had to make. Most people don’t really analyze whether they will pick the woman they love or selling one’s soul and giving up something which earlier, to protect, you didn’t give up even when tortured or hunted or broken. They don’t have to. Crichton’s developed rigid priorities are a result of the environment where he had to confront those hierarchies in himself. Crichton’s earlier ‘purity’ and goodness and optimism exist in part because he is a product of a relatively sheltered life (compared to Uncharted Territories). But that early cleanness allows others to see a better or at least a different path for themselves and so they repay the favor later by pulling him out when he is on the brink of succumbing to all these horrors (which really do seem to be scarily disproportionately triggered at him). One of the things I love about Crichton is that even after he’s seen and dealt horrors, he has a certain moral absolutism to him (however broken it gets at times) and a pure refusal to give up, and strength even if only to make the least worst of two bad choices presented to him. Something untainted is always there, maybe a legacy of his initial idealism, and so he never breaks, not permanently, not irreparably, though he comes very very close. Throughout the show, even as that world bends and molds and twists him to its own parameters, he manages to make the world somewhat bend and mold and twist to himself.   Do you know what I really really wish for John and Aeryn and the kid after the end of PKW? A few years of total peace, where they can just travel the space in Moya, and John can do his research, and be with Aeryn and watch their child grow, without having to worry about saving his and their lives every other day.

OK, these are getting epically long omg.

[tenderlyrenjun]

[9:15 am]

(feat. Mark)

You barge into Renjun’s private study, pushing the classificatory Azure Dragon emblem on the push plate so violently that the doors clammor deafeningly against the walls they hit. The force, even quicker, drives the doors to shut before the head guard, Mark, can follow you in, even with his vampiric speed. Surprisingly, the doors remain intact, likely due to the fiberglass material. But Mark still enters, half a second after you, bowing apologetically to Renjun who reads a sales and revenue report.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, waving a letter with Jaemin’s government seal stamped prominently contrasted against the black-inked characters and tinted white parchment.

Renjun gives you a momentary look until returning to his deep red wine and business report. And neither of you spare a glance at Mark, who immediately assesses the entire room, looking underneath the desk, leaning against the wall to scan the garden outside through the curtains, taking out his ear piece to listen for the slightest of movements, etc. etc. 

“I don’t know,” Renjun answers, eyes glossing over the drop in profit, trying to figure out where it comes from.

Every couple of decades, the two of you obtain successive internships at your various companies, under the guise of nepotism, usually to oversee any errors or the general income. And with Renjun having suggested attending college a few months back, this internship with your tech company seemed to just fit the whole college students persona, particularly your A accompanying that computer class Renjun asked you to take. Plus, he wanted to review why the stocks have been going down, especially since your companies are privately owned and you two, the owners, are well-hidden from the public. The only people, prior to your new reemergence into the 21st century, who saw you were other ancient vampires and the members of your coven - Kun, Aurora, Mark, Jiu, Woosung, in addition to the security detail turned and operated by Mark.

“It’s Jaemin’s signature,” you state obviously, crinkling the parchment louder in the air before pulling it in front of you again to reread the message.

“Mhmm,” Renjun hums, already having gathered that, simultaneous with Mark’s reaction: a whispered Oh.

Both you and Renjun turn to Mark, who finished surveying the area. Your vampire hearings amplified the exclamation, so you two raise matching eyebrows. 

“Sorry,” Mark excuses himself formally, then resumes the composure of a head guard again: shoulders squared, head up, position alert. He stares blankly at the wall but receives challenging stares ordering a real answer. “I just,” he concedes to his founders, “thought it was something more zealous, or, even, outrageous, like an ex-lover or something.”

You eyebrow raises further, and Renjun closes his file, setting his feet firmly on the ground. It is ... entertaining when vampires make passing comments about your intense relationship - even Jaemin mentioned that he had not seen either of you separated in all 700 years that you three have been friends. Scarcely anyone knows about Renjun’s earlier indiscretion, and you would like to keep it this way, especially if the future unfolds as Doyoung’s right hand predicts it to. The thought paints an intense stare on your face that almost scares Mark.

“We’re both two and a half millennia old,” Renjun reveals, something he rarely admits to people and something that Mark largely underestimated, given by the way his eyes widen and body stiffens. Renjun turns to you, smirking. “Do people always assume that we are first loves?” You glare at him, not wanting to answer, especially after the incident Mark unintentionally brought up. Renjun drops the corners of his lips, right, then reclines in his chaise longue, resuming his casual position crossing his ankle over his knee. “Not that it matters, of course, because you are my only love.”

“And you are my last,” you respond equally. 

“What did Jaemin sign?” Mark interjects, not wanting to be caught in yet another lover’s ... to be honest, he cannot describe the intensity; he just knows that he does not want to be in the middle of it again.

“A declaration of war,” you announce, tossing the opened envelope into Renjun’s lap. 

Renjun slowly sits up again, then closes his file and chugs the last of his blood, in case of a surprise attack. Younger vampires ... they tend to be more dramatic, and he would not hold it against them if they waited for this exact moment to make a move and jump all three of you at once. So, he needs the last of the blood to have more than enough strength to fight them off.

“Against who though?” Mark asks, making sure to emphasize his presence. Sometimes, you and Renjun slip into that fabled telepathy supposedly shared by Mates (it is fake; you two just know each other well), and as head guard, he needs the information to make a protection plan for the entire coven.

But to his surprise, you answer, “I don’t know,” and rub your forehead. You walk toward Renjun, rereading the message over his shoulder. “Some faction in North America, I assume, based on all the tensions both politically and economically - what with one Lee clans slaughtering an entire town to occupy it.” You sigh, then realize how callous the sentence sounded and look up at Mark, who shared that surname in his mortal life. “Sorry, Mark.”

“Not a problem,” he amends, “Likely no relation.” He triangulates in front of Renjun to watch your back in case a vampire appears from the large mirror at your blind spot. “Was it one of the newer factions?”

Still standing, you exhale loudly through your entire chest (to give yourself a pause to think, to remember), then step a bit further from Renjun, mimicking Mark’s protocol: creating a triangle position amongst the three of you. You would honestly love to sit with Renjun, like all those nights lounging on a couch, studying or watching TV, but the both of you need to be as alert as Mark always is, if not more; the responsibility of protecting your newly rebuilt coven weighing heavily. It took centuries after the last war just to be able to trust other vampires into your hours, and even more decades to do extremely thorough background checks on those who live with you now. At the beginning of the war, assassins infiltrated your manor at your weakest point and Renjun had to rescue you from Yeon’s kidnapping and extortion attempt (possibly even murder, if Renjun had been too late). That was when you lost Xiaojun, Mark’s predecessor who was sire bonded to you. Then, more spies, from all sides, from all covens, absolutely decimated your numbers until only you and Renjun remained. Renjun, too, barely managed during the war, to keep you safe. Luckily, his special compulsion ability was able to order vampires away, undermining their sire bonds to defy their traitorous leaders. He currently keeps this gift secret, only using it when necessary (or as a party trick with his closest friends), though it does still come out subconsciously, hence why his first impressions are always so great.

You sigh again. “Newer vampires don’t know just how many of us there are, or how long we have been around. Aurora is barely 35, and prior to joining us, she was not aware of Jaemin or the Laws. So, of course they have to be a new faction. An arrogant new faction, likely affiliated with one of the Italian clans who want ultimate power again and for the capital to return to Volterra [Italy] again.”

“Rumor has it that Jaemin’s Mate even returned to Korea after drifting through North America,” Renjun gossips. You are always surprised to hear about Jaemin’s Mate, because while he has not been off the compound in 90 years, his Mate is scarcely ever with him. It reminds you how horrible that century without Renjun was; you cannot fathom wanting to be separated for more than a few days. “Perhaps there is some benefit to his Mate having been gone; Jaemin might have more to say than what he send.”

“What did Jaemin want?” Mark asks, as the only person in the room who has not read the letter.

“For us to pledge allegiance,” Renjun answers before you do, also recalling that darkest time when you perfected your poison techniques on treasonists. He deadpans and crumples the letter into a ball, feeling your anger rise with Jaemin’s words. You give Renjun a look, Jaemin cannnot be serious, right? But Renjun shakes his head, unsure; Jaemin is a fan of loyalty, even more than you, so neither of you know what this invitation means - you will have to schedule another meeting with him.

“Does he not remember our commitment to neutrality?” you seethe, balling your hands into fists like the ball, shaking your head with Renjun but in disbelief. 

“Does he want to absorb us as well?” Mark asks more realitistcally than you. “Our vampires are highly trained and over half possess special abilities, so -”

“Jaemin is not Doyoung,” you seethe again, interrupting Mark before he can accuse Jaemin of one of the highest crimes (passed into law by Jaemin himself): stalking vampires into a coven. It rose into law after one New Year in the early 19th century when too many newly turned 20-year olds emerged as vampires. Covens grew; entire high school classrooms slaughtered; police stations were at an all time high for corruption as leaders bribed them to turn the other way. The law had been coming for a long time, especially since this is how Doyoung acquired all of his member. Doyoung only recruited leaders with special abilities; hence his left hand atrium, a vampire with subjective precognition born under a chancellor following the Dark Ages, and his right hand (Jeno) atrium, a prince, a former East Palace in the years preceding the Dark Ages, with the ability to recognize any relationship and induce one, though only if he is present. But that holiday was the final deciding factor.

“No,” Renjun agrees, his voice rising to command the room. “But do not forget, love. We wanted Doyoung to rule as well.” You share a lot of qualities with Doyoung, hence why you are old friends, but Jaemin is the current leader and a good one at that too.

“Not at the cost of war.”

“So what do we do?” Mark asks, looking between the two of you for a direction before he creates a plan. “How do we avoid the war?”

Renjun glances at the letter. Jaemin was very firm and strict. So he sighs, resigning in doubt.

“We don’t.”