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kalims · 1 year

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ㅤamongst other things

premise. kisses w/ them, and random things?

featuring. dan heng, blade, jing yuan.

content. gender neutral.

cw. mentions of blood, murder for blade lol. he's just down bad for reader in a weird, blade way ig

note. this is ironic since my first genshin post was also about kisses (AKA me getting bored so I wondered why not get into star rail)

will add others soon ig.. I didn't compile all of them here cuz I honestly lack the characterization for them so woop

dan heng

short, abrupt kisses that rarely ever come by goes as quickly as it came. you'd assume that he's doing it on purpose, giving you the kiss that you've been waiting for all day. it shouldn't even be considered a kiss at all from how fleeting his apparent 'peck' is.

in short it's torture.

keyword: assume. cause as convinced as you are that this is just some form of twisted amusement dan heng gains, that's exactly the problem that it entails. as a person wholly, he's so serious to the point you doubt there's nothing that would entertain him besides books.

you learn he isn't much of a fan of those really long kisses, once you both bore witness to a couple eating each other's face in broad daylight and you spotted his weekly shift of expression, a quirk of few centimeters. in this case, a grimace and he looks away.

he, does not really give kisses a lot. as upset as you are, you do agree that when he does give you a kiss, albeit short. it makes it all the more.. amazing? such a mediocre word wouldn't be able to describe it.

basically when you're both left trying to fit in his small cushion (he could've atleast gotten a bed in all this space.) you also learn that he's a really private man.

you've only ever shared kisses in his room, embraces, everything else for that matter. when the door is locked he quite literally melts into you. if you happen to be sitting together he just leans on to you.

dan heng in public: 😶

dan heng in private: 😊

just doesn't show any affection in public, especially if march is around. that girl would make fun of him for hours end and even drag the trailblazer in on her antics of poking fun.

dan heng is indeed a private man.

march isn't the only factor as to why there hasn't been a lot of kisses out in public. if anything he probably wants to kiss you more than you would like.

he'd be lying if he said he wanted to just kiss you as long as those weird main characters of the romance shows march watches cause even though you might want that as well, dan heng won't ever do it.

cause it isn't him, what he is. is the type to get kisses done as soon as he can not because he doesn't enjoy them. it's because he can take a good look at you once he leans back, just like he does any other day.

to admire you.

and cause dan heng isn't the romantic type to kiss you senseless, but the one to give you looks you'd die for.

blade

if dan heng only gives you kisses a few times a day and you'd consider it torture, better get ready to lose your sanity cause you're lucky if blade even crumples at your hand to give you one.

it's not that he doesn't love you. he feels as though it's wrong to label whatever emotion in his chest as something as strong as love, he won't go that far. but he won't label you as something worthy of hatred either, you're.. tolerable?

if anything blade doesn't outright seek to give you his affection through the form of a kiss. his love language is in fact, not physical affection but destroying your enemies :). (if you have one, if not. then whoever bothers you will suffice.)

but if he does, when he does it's the most blade thing he can do. just grabbing your face with one hand as he gives you one of those rough, deep kisses. it's not really desperate or out of need, despite such a wordless action you could feel some emotion he's pouring into it.

better pray it's not hate cause.. 💀

funny thing cause as much as he hates being piled in the same sentence as dan heng, in a way they're rather similar. both just preferring to witness, given their life span.. maybe it's some type of response they're used to.

blade doesn't really do the 'oh I love you' or the random hugs. the fact that he'd even stand so close to you instead of isolating himself and looking all mysterious leaning on a pillar already spoke volumes of his fondness (if not admitted.)

he just.. watches you?

silver wolf comments about it when she's caught his eyes on you many times midst a conversation, behind your back, staring. "better watch out." she says, but even with her disturbed gaze never does he tear his eyes away.

well.

kafka does take it in more stride than her. as someone who's spent a hefty time with blade, even someone as analytical as her can't tell which things he likes, and hates. besides all the blood and pain (well usually for his opponents.)

she for one, tells you that he does indeed like you. cause she can control who blade murders 'for her own good'. but if there's even a single glimpse of drop from a wound he's going feral, and not even kafka or her spirit whisper can tame his rage.

AKA... just lots of murder?

'for your own good :)'.

blade wholly believes that he doesn't need to shower you in affection, or kisses at all. but if you're really so insistent on them he'll give into you, which is surprising cause he's a pretty stubborn man.

most affection you'd get in physical means is when he completely collapses into you, perhaps a sign of weakness. but also trust. one of the rare times he's exhausted himself in his mind to the point where he can't even do anything.

#icanfixhim.

jing yuan

a cheeky man, this one.

jing yuan could give you a load, barriage, arrows, whatever describes the endless assault of pecks he attacks your face with. emphasis on 'could', he has the ability, and the freedom but it doesn't mean he's going to :)

in short you have to work for it, he says.

you can't tell if he's trying to give you one of those motivational, slapping you back to reality lessons or messing with you. you're going to go for the latter since someone as bold as he is lazy.. even jing yuan would relate enough to not hit you with the lesson card.

in a way he's always dragging the time you've gone by without a kiss from him as long as he can just for the sole reason he can see your attempts to conceal your bothered face, even better when the expression of content is all but displayed to him once he gives in.

what? he can't resist you, you know?

you have a feeling he's teasing you again when he says that but it's better to not ponder upon it.

for someone who prefers to 'conserve' his energy. he's got a lot to spare when it comes to the repeated kisses pressed upon your lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead.. whatever his own mouth can reach. (his favorite is the edges of your eyes..)

just for some reason, one he can't exactly name he ends up giving that particular area more love compared to the others. sometimes more lighter, feathery pecks when he's feeling playful. or the occasional longer, deep press of his lips when he's feeling rather sentimental about his feelings.

he doesn't deserve you.. but if not him, who else? ;)

gets mimi to help him into trapping you inside his office, jing yuan 'calls for your presence' but once you're inside rather than the pressing matters he apparently had to discuss with you (present in his message.) you're met with the man practically snuggling into you as he keeps you in his arms.

rather effortlessly if you might add!

and if you somehow managed to wriggle out his grip. you swore you saw him give the... big... cat a look and suddenly mimi is choosing to sleep right in front of the doors..

come back or you will not get kisses for two days (he's scamming u)

note. NOT PR... hi hsr fandom 🕳 posting in a new fandom makes me so nerviosity

#. . . (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #jingyuan x reader #jing yuan x reader #star rail x reader #dan heng #blade #jing yuan #x gn reader

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yourdoorisunlocked · 7 months

Text

I'll Never Meet Another You... - Part 2

📺〘 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 〙📺

𝐀/𝐍: Back after popular demand... *drumroll* OUR FAVORITE TV MAN!! 🥰 I just love writing Possessive!Vox, idk what it is about him, he's just so sCrUmPtIoUs-

I lowkey feel like I'm betraying my country of Alastor Nation by simping for this man, but CAN YOU BLAME ME??

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟎𝟕𝟗 ⚠︎ 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖 ⚠︎: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐨𝐱 𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ

. . .

The skies of hell that normally shone a bright cherry red had faded into a deep alluring maroon, mock sparkles twinkling down upon the Pride Ring in a beautiful imitation of Earth’s stars when you finally returned home from work.

You slammed your front door behind you, as all of the day’s pent-up frustration from being overworked and criminally underpaid finally weighed down on you, and a few dishes trembled in fear of your wrath as a soft glow of darkness outlined your figure.

The peace of the apartment had been entirely interrupted to make room for your sulking at your shitty living situation, though you knew you should’ve been grateful to have your job, however stressful.

For you, it definitely beat out prostitution or becoming an assassin-for-hire, so, who were you to complain about your mentally taxing job as a waitress? You might’ve been catcalled a handful of times, and maybe it even bordered on harassment here and there, but you weren’t forced to outright fuck them.

And thankfully, after some time, you had realized that for some reason, they never seemed to return to the restaurant, seeming to go missing completely from existence. Even an uncomfortable coworker of yours that you despised being around had been “let go” after a mere day of working at the diner. Maybe they all got the hint? That’s what you’d like to hope.

Though, even if you were safe from such advances, you definitely weren’t spared from the abuse of being burnt out of all your social battery in order to serve people.

The fact that it was Valentine’s Day in a few days didn’t make it any better.

For the entire first week of February, you were forced to sacrifice your sanity to serve people with a dazzling smile and cake a ridiculous amount of concealer on your face to hide your heavy eyebags.

Not to mention the slight jealousy that had boiled over inside of you, fueled by exhaustion and loneliness from cold nights alone and grueling days working at the restaurant, whenever you had to serve those lovey-dovey couples that were all over each other.

You despised them, with their tender Eskimo kisses, and stupid, mushy pet names for each other, and- Oh, great, they’re fucking under the table, now!

You’d had to kick out more than one group for that handful of incidents.

Just once, you’d like for someone to sweep you off your tired feet and bring you to a nice little outing, while shoving your infatuation with each other in everyone’s single-pringle fucking faces.

Oh, well. It wasn’t like finding love in a wretched place like Hell was probable. But you had your delusional fantasies, and more importantly, your playlists.

A familiar bloom of warmth in your chest had your heart ache with relief as you stumbled over to your bedroom. You promptly flopped onto your thin, squeaky mattress and stretched out your arms and legs, popping each stiff joint that had formed that day.

Rolling onto your back, you let your loose hair that had been strained into a bun all day fall onto the bed as you opened Sinstagram, bobbing your head to a song that had been stuck inside your playlist for a while.

It felt like an actual crime to start indulging in your daily stalking admiring of your latest obsession, the television Overlord himself, the founder of the biggest tech company in the Pride Ring, you guessed it, Vox.

Yes, you knew that it was creepy, but this was Hell. Who was anyone to judge you for fangirling – just a little bit – over him? Especially with that face card. You’d had very unsavory relationships in the past, but you’d throw your entire Sacred Rulebook of Relationship Standards out of the proverbial window for Vox.

Besides, anyone would be fucking blind not to fawn over him. Seven feet tall, hotter than hell itself, and more powerful and influential than you could possibly conceive? He was every Wattpad reader’s wet dream. The blueprint, if you were being honest.

As you start scrolling through his Sinstagram – well, the company’s, really – a soft smile spreads across your face, your yearning gaze completely taken with him.

The levels of down bad you had to be, to fall in love with a flat screen...

Unbeknownst to you, a soft whirring that could’ve easily been mistaken for an air conditioner had gotten louder and louder, closer and closer to the familiar stained glass of your bedroom window, tarnished with smoke and pollution. But it was clear enough for someone to look in and see what heinous acts you were doing on that phone of yours, never mind your search history.

Even Val would turn his nose up at some of that shit...

You didn’t even notice the small flash of the lens from its installed camera, or how it hovered just ever so close enough to the window beside you that it could get a proper view of what you were looking at, the contents of your phone on display for its Master to see.

And said Master was currently relaxing into his chair with a self-satisfied simper, his earlier stress from the typical daily jetlag melting away in your presence. The tension in Vox's shoulders loosened as his fingers danced over the keyboard briefly, and a monitor to the right lit up with a close-up of your face.

We meet again, Doll~...

The electronic Overlord had been awaiting this moment for what seemed like an eternity, as he mundanely danced his way through daily routine simply to keep you under his watchful eye, come the evening.

Throughout the day, Vox’s phone had been blowing up, par for the course of the ‘season of love’, as they called it. Of course, dealing with his job daily would’ve been an absolute thrill; cultivating his power and influence to spread across the Pride Ring by the second, watch Sinners fall over themselves to purchase the latest of VoxTech, y’know, the usual everyday experience.

But you were his change in daily routine, an escape from the facade of a showman that he had to keep up for the public, and you were right within Vox's reach.

And he could only restrain himself from up and snatching you away for so long.

Though, recently, the idea of kidnapping you had left a rather sour taste on Vox's tongue. He would've rather lured you in with his persona, and captivate you with all that he could offer, the security, the wealth, whatever you'd desire, Vox would provide.

So, when Vox found out about your "little" infatuation with him, what with the sinful fanart hoarding and the fact that you anonymously followed every account that he or his company managed, it was a game changer.

And the television demon was, above all, a courteous, charismatic demon, despite his... outbursts. And although he didn't have much relationship experience, he'd rather like to learn.

And he was sure that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

Vox’s focus from his fantasies were broken by the sight of your expression souring when a notification pinged on your phone.

It was your new co-worker, who had texted you the details of the new opening times since the restaurant had been getting much more foot traffic.

And it apparently planned to remain that way until the end of the month.

"6 A.M.? Are you fucking kidding me?... Alright, might as well get to bed earlier, now," you stood up and begrudgingly over to your bathroom, grumbling a string of curses as your bad mood was freshly revived.

Vox watched as you retreated from your bedroom, throwing articles of clothing from the bathroom onto your bed.

Water began pattering against the marble walls, and steam had gradually seeped into the room.

“I’m just an average man, with an average life...”

“I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price.”

Oh, you little tease...

With a soft scoff at the irony, Vox started humming along to the little tune you’d started singing as he tapped his fingers against the desk, impatient to be graced with your presence on the live feed of the VoxTech Voyeurscope.

“All I want is to be left alone, in my average home.”

“But why do I always feel, like I’m in the Twilight Zone?”

Vox sat back in his chair and kicked his legs upon the surface of his desk, his mind racing with answers to your predicament.

“I always feel like, somebody’s watchin’ me~!"

He was accustomed to returning to his room, only to bear witness to your mad self-ranting about what a dick your boss was, how your shitty pay was barely supporting you, and the many idiots you had to deal with, ones Vox would personally take care of, of course.

“And I have no privacy, ooh-oh-oh,"

"I always feel like, somebody's watching me!"

But as entertaining as it was, Vox hated seeing you slump into your abode, the eyebags more prominent than ever on your face.

You looked so... tired, so spent. He'd never use you like that, not if he was your boss...

“Tell me is it just a dream?”

Wait...

A pixelated lightbulb flashed against the left side of Vox's interface as he leaned forward against his monitor, frantically searching for whoever he needed to terminate fire so that you could take their place.

And, like a hellish prayer answered, the spot for a personal assistant was gloriously empty.

Heh, there really is a God...

A wave of Vox’s hand ordered the computer to direct him to his personal digital office, showing him forms, emails, and requests waiting for him to green light, all minor cases compared to what he was searching for.

It didn’t take long for Vox to find the form he was looking for, and it seemed that Lucifer had smiled upon him that day, as right when he retrieved the assistant application form, you exited the shower, the patter of water coming to an abrupt stop.

You walked out in nothing but a towel and a sheen of water droplets glistening against your skin. Ever the gentleman, Vox turned away with a small blue-hued blush when you dropped the towel and began to dress yourself, only turning back when he spotted you picking up the towel out of his peripheral.

With a small, triumphant smirk and a short mental request, the Voyeurscope returned promptly to Vox. He handed it the form, manifesting it into a physical piece of paper to insert into its awaiting craned claws.

Vox could get you out of that horrible place, no doubt about it. But he had to make sure that you did your part as well.

"Bring this to her apartment. Be discreet about it."

He handed the drone the empty form, and instantly it zoomed across the Entertainment District to your apartment, which wasn’t even that far from the Vee’s headquarters.

It made a short trip through the ventilation system that led into your bedroom, tucking in on itself to deliver the paper to you.

Thankfully your back was turned to it and braiding your hair, as a shiny metal claw reached out from behind the metal door to the vent just above your bed. It dropped the application form upon your mattress, and Vox waited with bated breath for you to notice.

The form floated precariously down onto your bed, landing gracefully just as you turned around and jumped onto the mattress. You were half-tempted to reach for your phone and end the night with your daily simp-scrolling before bed.

Vox’s heart lurched in his chest once you spotted the form and held up the piece of paper with a questioning expression. You didn’t remember having this anywhere in your bag when you left the restaurant.

“What in the...?”

Then, your eyes caught onto the logo.

VoxTech.

Holy shit.

Apparently, you’d accidentally snatched someone else’s application form to work for VoxTech, an idea that completely slipped your mind for the last miserable months you’d slaved away at the diner you worked at.

It wasn’t like a spontaneous trip to the Entertainment District, of all places, was something that you could afford, let alone tolerate with the skeezes that sauntered about the streets, looking for young little things like you to prey on.

But despite its infamous reputation, Vox definitely wasn’t the worst of the Vees, not by a fucking long shot. And that wasn’t just your obsessive, simping brain talking here.

Sure, he was the embodiment of capitalism and corporate greed at its finest, but an office job with a few tons of workload sounded much better than what you were getting, working at a shabby restaurant and going home every night to your shithole of an apartment.

Not to mention, you’d be working under the Overlord you’d obsessed over for weeks on end.

Hopefully you’d get the chance to be under him, too-

Also, the goddamn paygrade! Your eyes bulged out of your head and your mouth fell slightly agape in surprise, unaware of how the television Overlord was gauging your every reaction and sipping on his coffee with an amused smirk.

Perhaps God had finally taken pity upon your mortal soul and decided that you deserved to catch a break, and for that, you were eternally grateful. You’d be skipping halfway to church, by now, if Hell had one. Maybe even click your heels a couple times on the way, too.

In a flash, you rushed over to your nuclear fallout zone of a desk, sweeping the mess of papers and ‘RENT DUE’ bills off its surface. You quickly took a pen and scribbled down the required information for the application form at lightning speed. Smoke was practically rising off the paper by the time you were done with it.

The form was filled out in record time, and Vox watched as his plan unfolded perfectly before him. The definite click of your desk drawer closed as you placed the form inside for tomorrow, your fate sealed and unknowingly passed into Vox's greedy hands.

“So gullible for me, aren’t you~?” His gaze softened adoringly towards you as he murmured to no one; gentle, placating words meant for your ears hitting only the damned barrier of his computer screen.

A fond, blue-hued grin lined with neon teal teeth spread across Vox’s blue-screen interface as he watched you flop onto your bed. You kicked your feet happily and gushed like a schoolgirl as you lost yourself to your daydreaming.

You knew you weren’t important enough to actually have a meeting with Vox himself, but this was fucking fanfic material, and a gorgeous opportunity that you knew was too good to brush off.

“Ooh! I can’t wait to meet him! If I ever meet him. I wonder what Vox's like when he isn’t working... He’s definitely the Type A kinda guy, super work oriented.” A spot-on observation.

“Ugh... But I’m totally not, though. Eh, doesn’t matter, I’ll be accepted either way, it’s not like anyone else is brave enough to accept the job.” Well, she’s not wrong.

“No, that’s a little cocky. I mean, it’s not exactly a guarantee I’ll be accepted.” Oho, you’d be surprised, my dear...

You pouted doubtfully for a moment, weighing all the variables in your head. This could go horribly wrong for you, maybe even end up with your brains splattering against an aquarium wall, if you played your cards recklessly.

But you'd had enough of this life, and you were far from sick of drowning in the suffocating depressive cycle that you'd been spiraling into for the past couple of months since you'd arrived in Hell.

Who knew your afterlife would be just as dismal and bleak as your human one.

“But it’s worth a shot!” You clenched your fists with a newfound determination, and Vox let out a relieved sigh. You really shouldn’t scare him like that, not when he was so close to having you securely within his grasp. Willingly, that is.

If pushed to it, Vox had no qualms over taking you by force.

“Even though I have no idea what he’s like in person, I’d die to meet him. Double die, that is.”

“Ugh, but should I miss my shift for the interview? Or should I plan to go there whenever Boss gives me a break next?”

It was practically torture, watching you go back and forth between decisions, leaving Vox feeling like he was watching the finale of ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Girlfriend, So What?’, and it had left him on the cruelest cliffhanger he could’ve possibly manifested in the history of shitty melodramas.

You hadn’t even decided what you were even going to wear, and you were already rethinking your afterlife’s choices.

Oh, shit...

Your once relaxed state was all but diminished when you realized that simply showing up to the interview wasn’t going to cut it. You had to dress to impress to land this job.

After all, Vox's reputation was the peak of excellence, perfection at its finest, and the company's interviewers would probably have you executed on the spot if you dared to show up in tattered sweatpants and your favorite hoodie.

You rushed over to your dresser, throwing out any articles of clothing you deemed inappropriate for the interview.

Finally, you settled on a plain midnight blue form-fitting blouse with a black ascot, and a black pencil skirt that you had bought for your uniform at the diner. You never wore it much, of course, with all the sleazy customers you’d attract, but you thought it was cute, anyway.

With a satisfied hum, you laid out the outfit upon your desk, and with a relieved sigh, fell right back into bed with your phone on the lowest brightness possible.

You then scrolled the endless crimson twilight away with half-lidded eyes until you slowly drifted off to sleep, leaving Vox alone to his thoughts once more.

Upon seeing your dozing form, Vox made the drone hover for just a few more moments to watch you drift off into a blissful sleep.

He promptly called it back, and once again, the poor drone worked overtime to return to its Master, and its battery was nearly completely spent as it landed in Vox's claws.

Sharp, neon-dipped fingers tampered with the device for a moment, searching for the gold mine of footage he had recorded. He tossed the video onto his monitor's screen, and the file loaded and saved instantly into his precious folder.

A warmth crept up his chest as he laid back in his chair, a conniving grin stretching its way onto his features.

The familiar smugness of sure victory, and the honey-sweet bitterness of whatever spell you had put him under had left his heart aching. You may have been prone to your midday daydreaming, but they couldn't compare to Vox's ambitious fantasies of you and him together.

And tomorrow, you'd be all his. His personal assistant, clad in that tight little uniform that had him frothing at the mouth for you.

And speaking of which...

Vox's retinas pulled up different images of uniforms and color-coordinated outfits that perfectly matched his likeness and style.

Indeed, when Vox was done with you, you'd be a spitting image of him, every facet and aspect of you fashioned for him, and him alone.

Every demon in Hell would know exactly who you belonged to, from the marks that would line your shoulders and thighs, to the pleated blue skirt and coattails that he'd have Velvet fashion, just for you.

She'd look stunning in my colors...

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Alright, I promise, I SWEAR WE'RE GETTING THERE-

I needed to use this chapter to build up the plot's structure, since the first chapters tend to be little concepts of what I want the rest of the story to be about. I promise, ON MY MOTHER that next chapter we will be seeing more Vox x Reader content in chapter three, especially since the tv demon brainrot is invading and corrupting my brain cells rn 😓

As always, thanks for reading! And once again, my taglist is always below, so please comment there to be tagged!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @chewbrry, @villxinmiixx, @lulurubberduckie, @mysterypotatoink, @kintsugi-akane, @rustedtoaster

➺𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #yandere vox x reader #yourdoorisunlocked #hazbin fanfic #THIS IS FOR PLOT PURPOSES #i swear we'll get to the vox x reader shit in a bit I PROMISE #obsession #tw stalking #possessive behavior #btw this man is fucking diabolical #like- THE MAINUPLATION #THE MIND GAMES AND THE SCHEMING

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tumbleweed-run · 1 year

Note

Request for reader finding some of Gale's erotica and, based off said literature, getting taken in a most ungentlemanly fashion? 👉👈

Oh nonny, I love this idea terribly! Conveniently this also fits for today's kinktober theme.

A Novel Idea

(18+, Explicit)

You hadn’t lived in Waterdeep long, but it didn’t take long to realize wandering about the Dock Ward at night wasn’t your best idea. Tonight ‘night’ seemed like an understatement, even the moon and stars had retreated behind heavy clouds. You relied solely on the lights streaming from various taverns and home windows to keep your path.

You weren’t far from home when the hairs on your neck stood on end. Someone was following you. Pulling up the hood on your cloak, you quickened your pace, not to an outright run but enough that it might make a difference. You thought it did. Thought it would.

You’d been wrong before.

It wasn’t so much a push as it was being barreled into and shoved down an alley. You dig your feet in trying to slow the momentum of your body but to no avail. The brick wall before you was as unforgiving as the force at your back as you’re pressed into it.

“Well, well, there aren’t many brave enough to be wandering around here in the dark,” a voice hums into your ear.

“Brave is just one of the many things I am,” you bite back trying to gain purchase on the wall before you, trying to push back.

The body that flattens against you is larger than your own. It pins you against the brick, you’re unable to get your arms underneath you. You still your struggles, no use in wasting your energy.

“I’ll leave you be if you’ll be so kind as to hand me your coin purse,” He’s not moving now, just pinning you to the wall with his body.

Gale is staring at you with a look of shock. The book (his book might you add) is held loosely in his hand.

“You, want this?” He asks again gesturing at you with the book now.

You nodded, lip worried between your teeth. You hadn’t meant to bring it up, at least not without a solid plan. But he’d teased you for how your cheeks had heated as you read a particularly scandalous part of that very same novel.

Gale’s eyes go distant, and you’re convinced he’ll tell you no, that this is beyond his willingness to indulge you in your fantasies. You wait him out, though, let him come to his conclusion on his own.

“I won't hurt you,” he says finally.

It’s not a no, so you take your chance. “Of course not, and neither does he… not really,” you remind him. The villain turned seducer in the story had only frightened his maiden, never truly hurt her.

“We’ll need some way for you to tell me you’re done,” Gale admits, still not meeting your gaze.

It’s your turn to be hesitant now. “Gale, if this isn’t something you want. Say it and I swear I’ll never bring it up again,” you promise grabbing for his hand.

He laces his fingers through yours and finally looks at you. “As strange as it is, I must admit I can see the appeal.” The words are spoken low, as if he’s revealing a secret to you.

He might as well be.

“If I give you my coin purse, or even mention coins that will be my cue that I want it to end.” You assure him.

“You promise?” he squeezes your hand before pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Yes,” you grin.

“No,” you growl.

You begin trying to twist your body away from him once more but he simply leans into you. It’s taken almost no effort for him to subdue you. You swallow harshly against that realization.

The lips are back at your ear. “If not your coin then, my lady, I shall have to take something.”

“I have nothing else for you.” You’d meant to sound defiant, strong, but instead the works came out half-whispered.

He chuckles and then shifts so his weight is off of you, not gone though. He’s caging you in still with his arms and his body at your back. One of those arms moves now and skillfully undoes the broach holding your cloak closed.

You shiver as the material falls to your feet, the cool night air already pushing in through your clothes.

“I think you have plenty for me.” His lips are so close to your neck that you can feel them brush your skin as he speaks.

His hand returns, resting atop your collarbone. Not quite at your neck but there, like a warning. You swallow harshly once again.

“Perhaps that’s what you want,” he say mockingly, finally letting his lips drop to your neck with a kiss.

His hand trails lower on your chest until he’s cupping your breast through your shirt. The fabric seems impossibly thinner now than it had less than an hour ago.

“After all what lady goes walking alone at this hour except those looking for trouble,” he continues. His fingers are seeking out your nipple now with teasing brushes against it.

The kisses he’s pressing against your neck will certainly bruise by morning but you can’t help but to arch your neck more.

He pinches your nipple and you whimper. He chuckles against your neck.

His hand shifts, seeking your other breast. His thumb brushes up against your already hard nipple. He pinches it again without warning. This time when you moan you can’t help but roll your hips back into him. He’s hard against your ass.

“So that is what you were after,” he’s teasing again, both with his words and his fingers. “Willing to risk your life just to be touched.”

“No,” you argue, “I was just going home.”

“With no protection? No strong husband to keep you safe?” His hand abandons your breast to begin a decent downward.

His hips are grinding against you freely now and you can feel just how hard he is with each roll. You bite your lip to hold back another whimper. He chooses this moment to gather your skirt in his fist and press it between your legs. With another roll of his hips he sends you grinding against the fabric, sweet friction against your already throbbing clit.

“No,” it’s less of a word and more of a moan. You shake your head, hair undoubtedly smacking his face. “No husband, I can protect myself.”

“Perhaps you can,” he groans against your skin, “but this situation tells me otherwise.”

He’s still thrusting against you, forcing you to grind against his hand and the fabric balled inside of it. You’re up on your tiptoes now trying to change the angle, unabashedly seeking more friction.

“You can’t have it both ways, my lady. You can’t both be on an innocent evening stroll and able to protect yourself, given the position I have you in,” he reminds you of exactly what positon he’s talking about with another firm roll of his hips.

Before you can argue against his words he’s begun hiking the skirt of your dress up until he can slide his hand beneath it. His fingers, cooled by the night air, immediately seek out your cunt. You cry out as he slips them between your folds to press firmly against your clit, the cool air a shock to your nerves.

“There’s no denying this,” he teases, fingers rubbing against you. The wet sounds betraying whatever words you’d meant to say. “Admit it,” he growls lips pressed to your ear.

“Please,” you whimper, hips chasing after his touch.

You almost lose balance and crash forward into the wall but his other arm comes around your waist to catch you.

“Admit it,” he says again fingers now touching everywhere but where you want them.

“I want you,” you admit but it’s apparently not what he’s looking for because he still refuses to touch you. “Please,” you cry out, “I want you to fuck me.”

“That's not so hard, is it,” he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

His fingers leave you even though you’ve said what he wanted to hear. Before you can morn their loss the arm around your waist lifts you into the air a second before swinging you down towards the ground. You’re forced to brace your arms out in front of you as you make contact roughly with the alley floor.

“Ow,” You cry out despite not meaning to, there will be scrapes on your palms now.

Just as quickly as you’d been tossed to the floor you’re lifted up onto your knees again, back against his chest. Somehow he’d knelt with you.

“All you have to do is give me your coin,” he reminds you, “and I’ll leave. No harm done to you or your reputation.”

You shake your head vigorously, “I won’t give it to you.”

You barely feel his lips against the side of your head before he’s pushing you back down onto your hands.

He flips up your skirt, exposing you to the alley and the night air. You’re not sure which one makes you shiver more. He runs his hands down your ass to your thighs before spreading the lips of your cunt with his thumbs. You only realize you’re shaking when he presses one of those thumbs inside you.

You fight the urge to press back into it.

He slicks his thumb back out and runs it up and down until he bumps into your clit. You whimper and aren’t able to keep your body from chasing after his touch. His hands leave you then but you hear the sounds of his pants being undone.

“Such a pretty thing,” he says reverently and then you feel the warmth of his cock resting against your entrance, “waiting to be taken in an alley like a whore.”

“Please,” you whine trying to push back onto him.

He won't let you and instead leans away to keep you from touching him. You cry out in frustration, head dropping down.

Suddenly there’s a hand tangled through your hair, drawing your head back up. Its a firm tug but only painful if you resist. And you do, but only for a moment before allowing him to pull you so you’re forced to look ahead. Forcing you to look around at the barely visible alley around you.

Only then does it press into you. There’s no teasing now, no waiting, no soft touches. He thrusts into you until you’re pressed back against his hips. Your cunt flutters around him at the sudden intrusion. It's a stinging sensation, not pleasurable really, but you don’t mind because he’s finally inside of you.

He sits that way for a few heartbeats before drawing out only to thrust back in against. It’s a firm rhythm he finds, hand still woven in your hair to keep you from drifting away with each thrust. You can feel small stones biting into your knees, undoubtedly they’ll be bruised and bloody by the time he’s finished.

He begins grunting with each thrust and you realize he’s getting close.

Your hair is released without warning and you can barely stop it from falling forward.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, both hands grabbing your hips, “I want you to come on my cock in this alley.”

You find yourself only too eager to obey. Fingers finding a rhythm that matches the near brutal pace he’s now fucking into you. You’re so close you can’t breathe. The grip on your hips becomes almost painful.

“I need you to come,” he growls, fingertips digging into your flesh.

And you do with a cry. Hips slamming back to meet his so the only thing you can hear aside from your own cries is the sound of your skin slapping against one another. He grunts as he comes, pulling you back against him so you can’t move away as he spills inside of you.

You remain like that until your heartbeat has approached a more normal rhythm. As he slides out of you he pulls you back onto his lap. Hands smoothing out your skirts so you’re hidden once more from the night.

“My mad, beautiful, love,” Gale whispers pressing kisses against the side of your head.

You laugh as you lean into his kisses. After a moment you’re shifted onto the ground once more, but so much gentler this time you feel your heart near bursting.

With a groan that you absolutely don’t grin at, Gale stands and tucks himself back into his pants. But before you can even think of trying to join him he’s lifted you into his arms, one hand producing your long-forgotten cloak.

You drop the cloak into your lap before draping your arms around his neck. “My noble wizard,” you mumble against his lips before pressing a kiss to them.

He leads you further into the alley and to a door hidden deep in shadows. As he pushes it open, you realize this is the alley alongside your own home. The door swings open into your warmly lit kitchen, the smell of dinner from earlier still lingering heavily in the room.

You bury your face in Gale’s neck to hide the smile painted across your lips.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #kinktober 2023 #kinktober prompt roleplaying

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remotepixel · 8 months

Note

headcanons for platonic peter parker who wants to be your brother sooo bad

AAAA ok i want to say thank you so much for requesting !!!!!! i was literally so excited when i saw it lol.

I set this around Homecoming but didn't specify too much.

TW: yandere themes!

I imagine Peter always wanted a sibling.

-As a bullied, ‘weird’ kid, he grew up wishing he could have someone to hang out with when no one else wanted to.

-Of course, his parents always said no (since it obviously isn’t as simple as young him thought) and he never pestered May and Ben about it, too busy grieving and learning the struggles of money, but the idea lingered well into his teens.

-And, when he met you, he couldn’t help but think maybe God was granting him his wish.

He would be very clingy (to put it simply).

-If you’re in the same school, he’ll make you sit with him and his friends at lunch, walk you to and from lessons, anything to keep himself glued to your side.

-If not, he’ll be constantly checking his phone, texting you 24/7 (or calling you if he can), to the point I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a couple detentions for it.

-He acts like being away from you is the worst thing to ever happen to him.

-Like if doesn’t get a constant reminder that you’re not ignoring him and you’re just busy he’s gonna drop dead.

Outside of school, he would normally invite you around his house to build lego Star Wars or binge old movies no one else your age knows.

-I think he’d really like having things only between you two - like an inside joke or a project you work on together - both because he has an excuse to talk to you, and because it makes it seem like you’ve know each other your whole lives (something he wishes desperately was true).

I imagine Aunt May seeing you two hanging out one day, squabbling about how to properly ensemble the last piece (he’d probably go with your judgement no matter what though), and tells him something along the lines of ‘stop fighting with your sibling’ as a joke.

-The way Peter’s face would just be 😯 before breaking into a massive smile that permanently stays on his face for the next month.

-Like, even Aunt May agrees that he’s your brother, that's basically the same as her adopting you, yeah? no-

Peter is a bit delusional if you couldn't tell.

-Like, the way he constantly called Happy because he convinced himself that it was gonna go through eventually? Yeah, you’re getting the same treatment.

-He assumes you feel the same even if you so much as look at him (I bet he’ll think it’s some ‘sibling secret code’ and look at you in the same way so it looks like he understood).

That isn’t to say he’s ignorant to your emotions though.

-He copies your feelings in a way - like, if you’re sad, he’ll be as well, if you’re angry at something, he’ll be angry, etc.

-He isn’t one for violence but I don’t think he would care if Spiderman webbed/roughed up a few people who were annoying you (I don’t think he’d do much more unless you were in serious danger or he got too caught up into his feelings like in no way home).

I can’t believe I didn’t mention this before but he would be so jealous if you actually had (a) sibling(s).

-Like, he’s supposed to be your brother, but now he has to compete with people who know you so much better than he does? People who get to live with you and say you’re related without getting funny looks?

-(He lied to MJ once and it immediately backfired- he just wanted someone to actually think you and him were siblings, ok? Is that really a crime?)

-I don’t think he would have it in him to be outright mean to them, but he wouldn’t be overly nice either, just neutral enough to hide any jealously and not get banned from seeing you.

He tries not to come across as pathetic (don’t tell him he lowkey is-) but he’s never had much of a family before. Sure, he has Aunt May but everyone else? Dead, just like that.

Siblings is a whole new world for him and he just wants to be there for you, be your role model like Stark is for him, and prove that he can be the best brother ever.

I have re-read this but my tenses might be messed up </3

#RemotePixel #platonic yandere #yandere mcu #yandere marvel #yandere Peter Parker #platonic yandere Peter Parker

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jcdlem · 1 year

Text

ೃ༄ Apple Cider

johnny cade x gn!reader

warnings: not beta or proof read, brief mentions of smoking/injury, prompt credits to @/lovemeagoodprompt

5 times johnny wanted to tell you he loves you + 1 time he finally did !

Johnny couldn’t quite tell what you were talking about anymore. Somewhere in the conversation, he’d lost track of your commentary—who was running away, who was in jail, who was going with who, who stole what and where and why…

He was about to nod, feign (or try to, at least) some form of understanding, when you suddenly stopped.

“What?” he queries, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Do I have something on my face?”

Without saying a word, you lean in, skimming the edge of his jacket collar before folding it down. A deep flush covers his features—he can only watch in stunned silence as you regain your earlier position, almost like nothing had ever happened.

“There!” you smile brightly at him; he swears his heart stops. He’s about to say something, but you promptly cut him off, resuming whatever story you’d been sharing before.

ii.

Johnny rummages through his pockets for what feels like the tenth time—still, the familiar weight of his lighter is nowhere to be found. A smile plays on your lips upon seeing his predicament; he doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in frustration.

You retrieve your own lighter, tucked safely into the back of your jeans, and place it in his palm. That gets his attention.

“Keep it.”

He does so with hesitance, lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Albeit a relatively small gesture, it has his head spinning—only you could make him swoon with something as insignificant.

“Thanks, Y/N.” he mumbles, averting his gaze before you can sense there’s something amiss. He drowns out the words threatening to spill from his mouth with smoke.

iii.

Johnny doesn’t like parties. Not the alcohol, or the music, or the outright concerning amounts of people. He does like you, though—perhaps that’s why he’s sitting on some flimsy couch instead of walking home.

His arm is going numb under the weight of your head, yet he doesn’t move a muscle. He briefly wonders how you sleep amidst such chaos; soundly, by the looks of it.

You stir with a small noise, further burying your face in his shoulder. He knows then he’ll be there all night. He can’t bring himself to disrupt your rest when you’re oh so peaceful.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

The rest goes unsaid.

iv.

Johnny lets you brush his hair back, doesn’t flinch as you press an antiseptic-doused cotton ball to the cut on his temple. The only sign of discomfort is the subtle creasing of his brows—somehow, you still catch on.

“You alright?”

He nods, straining a quick response to appease your concerns. He instinctively reaches up, traces the jagged outline of the wound. He knows for a fact it’ll leave a scar; an ugly one, at that.

“It’s not all bad,” you shrug, reading his mind once again, “makes you look tough.”

He looks away and tries to convince himself you mean nothing by it.

Johnny rests his back on the grass, damp from the morning rain. You’re laying only a few inches away, hair splayed in different directions. He watches as you search for patterns in the stars—amidst your concentration, you don’t notice his gaze.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a closer look, smile because you’ve finally found what you were looking for (or, rather, something close to it.)

“…yeah.”

He glances at the dark sky; finds that its not nearly as pretty as you.

vi.

Johnny looks at the horizon, where the setting sun casts various shades of orange. The porch steps are rough against his knees, old and worn from years of use—still, he is calm. You seem to share the sentiment, much quieter than you normally are.

“Hey, Y/N?” his question is but a whisper; you hum in acknowledgment.

“I think I love you.”

Before he can regret it, you’re leaning your head on his shoulder. And, for once, you meet his eyes.

“I love you too, Johnny.”

#johnny cade x reader #johnny x reader #johnny cade headcanons #johnny cade imagine #johnny cade #johnnycake #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders x reader #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #the outsiders #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders johnny #ralph macchio #fluff #1965 #greasers #dljcem

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thedemonsurfer · 3 days

Text

Back on my bullshit with trying to guess character motives feat. Dark Sun

Sooo Dark Sun (or 'Just Sun') finally rolled up to talk to Sun in todays SAMS ep, and naturally I'm putting him on the high-speed cycle in my head trying to parse what his motives are. What does he GET out of this?

Because he was leaning on Sun really hard to kill Nexus-- specifically, he wants Sun to see Nexus as a representative of the worst kind of person Moon can be, and to recognize that as a threat that needs to be killed.

But-- why?

Roll back a bit: Dark Sun has been involved in every step of Nexus' fall from grace.

He did something to New Moon at their very first meeting.

He provided Eclipse with the means to bring back Solar, and then prevented him from acting until Dark Sun wanted him to.

He dropped Ruin off on New Moon's doorstep when Moon was at a point where he could have accepted Solar's death, causing Moon to double down on his efforts.

He plucked New Moon out of space and pulled the chip containing Old Moon out of his head and left it for Monty to find.

He's provided Nexus with a new base of operations and enables his monkeying around with dark energon dark star energy, despite the damage it's doing to Nex.

Dark Sun needs Nexus to make himself into a threat. Because that's what he does, he sets up the dominoes and pulls the strings, but he doesn't outright tell others what to do (unless it's bossing Ruin around, but Ruin is his bitch so he doesn't count.)

And today, he was leaning real hard on Sun to see Nexus as a threat. to see all Moons as a threat (though, curiously, not mentioning Old Moon).

So what is he getting out of this? Why does he also need Sun to see Nexus as a threat that needs to be stopped? Why does he want Sun to 'understand' that he has to kill his brother?

Dial back the motives. The most compelling and strongest motives are Simple and Selfish: Eclipse didn't actually want power, he wanted Moon to pay attention to him. Ruin did want to prevent a total catastrophe, but he also wanted revenge on the Creators for destroying his life and world.

(As an aside, this is why I feel that Bloodmoon didn't make a good antagonist, and why Ruin's initial appearance was kind of boring. 'I'm here just to fuck shit up' isn't a very compelling motive.)

What do we know about Dark Sun?

He lied about having killed his Moon and actually kept him to torture-- or he DID kill his own Moon, and the one Ruin met was a substitute

He never gets his hands dirty, he gets others to act for him

He's obsessed with Sun

He fucking hates Moon

Dark Sun tells Sun that 98% of dimensions lose their Sun, and Moon is often the one that kills them. But it's not exactly that straightforward, is it?

Atlas points out that Dark Sun is counting dimensions where Sun was reset as him being 'dead'. Dimensions where Eclipse has a hand in Sun's death could be considered Moon's fault, since Eclipse is a byproduct of the killcode. Ruin's situation resulted in the ego death of both his Sun and Moon, on his Moon's suggestion. Ruin also wiped out 5000 dimensions and I think that's gonna skew some of the numbers.

And... how many dimensions have we seen a dead Sun in the show? Two, I think? The one where they never split up and Moon consumed Sun after the killcode took full control, and Solar's. And in Solar's, that Moon went mad trying to bring his Sun back.

Almost every instance we've seen, Sun and Moon coexist just fine once they're in separate bodies.

And I think that's what Dark Sun wants. I think he's trying to justify killing his own Moon before they ever got a chance to get along.

Moons MUST be evil and unable to change, they MUST be cruel. It's impossible for a Sun to get along with a Moon for any length of time, and that Sun is in the right when he has to kill his Moon.

And he's going to use Sun and Nexus to prove how right he is.

#tsams #sams #the sun and moon show #and like i could be completely wrong also but ITS JUST A THEORY #etc etc

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

You’re so Prettyyyyy…

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Warnings: Angst -> Fluff | Friends to Lovers | Drunk Confessions | Suggestive Content

Smut: Fantasy/Thought (2 blocks of writing). Mentions of strap on (R). Mentions of oral(N) (aka, no major smutty plot. You can blink it away)

Natasha was drunk; borderline blackout.

God, you loved her so much, her voice like an angel's melody, but right now, all you wanted was for the pretty drunkard to shut the fuck up.

Her heart, that she normally kept under lock and key was burning on the tip of her tongue.

——

Drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Most of you hoped so, yearned for it to be true.

Regardless, she'd be embarrassed. She'd probably take off on a mission, nearly get herself killed, and she'd still avoid you when she returned and was benched. Most of her days likely to be spent in the garden moping over some book about sapphic heartbreak.

Natasha is predictably, an involved reader. She lets her favorite artists tell the story of her life.

Which is why you figured she'd bolt. All you can do is hope she is really blacking out so she won't remember this. So that she won't run.

"You're so prettyyy Y/N," the redhead fawned over you as she leaned her entire body against your side. You chuckled; it wasn't humorous. "The most beautiful girl in the universe."

If she could feel how tense you were she didn't let it be known. Her body simply molded into yours and yours stood as still as a statue. You stood there silently cursing vodka and Thor's mead for leaving Natasha in such delirium.

Natasha hiccuped, "My favorite girl," her hand slid into yours, she giggled, "Your hands are so soft." Her fingers slipped between yours and she sighed dreamily, "I just wanna kiss you."

An even tenser silence fell over you both as you said nothing, the redhead turned and shifted into you. Burrowing her face into your top, she sighed sadly now, "I wish you loved me back."

"I do love you Nat." You couldn't believe she'd question such a thing, like you hadn't made your feelings for her obvious for years now. Never with any pressure though, you were just as content remaining only the best of friends if it meant she was still yours in some fashion.

"Nope," she shook her head defiantly. "Because if you did you would've kissed me by now."

"You're drunk Nat..." She huffed, "Only now."

"Yeah, and when you're sober you don't want me. Not my fault." You were growing impatient with her, but you were also instantly riddled with guilt when you felt her body flinch.

"I always want you detka," she whispered her confession so softly into the fabric of your top that you'd miss it if not for being a spy yourself.

"Not outright." Natasha looked up at your avoidant eyes, lips pouting as you guided her into the elevator that finally arrived. An idea spurred her next movements on, catching you completely off guard as she found confidence.

Natasha shoved you against the elevator wall, or at least she tried to, her gross motor skills aren't the same after ten shots of vodka.

That pure shit Alexei smuggles into America too, from when he comes to see his 'girls', but really he comes to intimidate (fangirl over) Captain Ameeeerica. He only ever leaves in low spirits, without success. Even on his surprise visits is the star-spangled man not there when he arrives, he almost thinks that there is a drone following him around; there is, and Melina and Natasha are always in contact.

"Incoming. Two hours, abort America," her tone always serious, and mistakenly humorous.

If the big oaf was here you'd knock him out, along with Thor for only making it worse with promises of top of the line Asgardian mead.

Natasha had actually tripped, instead of the hot sequence she'd envisioned took place. Your hands quickly caught her by the waist, holding her steady. Her lips crashed into yours, slightly taking you by surprise, you'd expected it as a possibility, but were mortified by the actuality.

"Nat please," you were desperate for space, but her lips pressed to yours without any thought, her tongue sliding over yours hungrily. "This isn't fair," you whimpered into her mouth, hot breaths mixing as the one sided kiss continued.

Tears fell from your eyes, saturating both your cheeks as you settled into the moment. If this would be your only chance to kiss her now that she'd given you no choice, you'd lean into it.

Natasha pulled you from the elevator, shoving you haphazardly through the door of her room. Your body landed on the mattress, hers now on top of yours in a flash, hands roaming beneath your shirt the cause for your abrupt departure.

Natasha whined as you turned your head, forcefully separating her lips from yours as your hands tightly gripped her wrists, shaking your head as you flipped your positions. You hovered over her now instead, looking into her dejected eyes with concern. "You're drunk."

Natasha was drunk, but not as much as before.

Still enough to be out of it, but bold enough to make the moves she never could sober. She wanted you, and knew that even if sober her regretted it, it would only be outwardly. Deep down she'd hold onto the memory with joy.

"I'm fine," she attempted to rebut, "Please."

"We can't," you denied, you loved her too much to take advantage of her like this. But you were also weakened by her pleading gaze, there was no more denying it, she reciprocated your love.

So, in a moment of complete tenderness, you reapplied your lips to hers. Giving her all the love you'd hidden away behind playful flirting, soft embraces and the longing glances you'd send her way from across bustling rooms.

"Please," you whimpered breathlessly, "Forget this happened Natty, I-I can't lose you." You kept up the momentum of the soft kiss, even though you were practically sobbing into it.

"Just forget," you begged more firmly, "It'll be easier that way, we'll be okay, you'll stay..."

You fell asleep clinging to that hope.

But alas it was a fruitless thought.

Natasha remembered. It was an inevitability.

She could never forget her dream coming true.

Plus, she was trained to remember everything.

She flinched away from you, body softly trembling as she remembered the words she bombarded you with, and the accompanied laughter, one's uneasy the other's unaware.

The touches, and their implications. God, had she been in her right mind she would have been begging you to take her. Actually, she'd never have been bold enough, she didn't feel deserving of your tenderness, she knew of your love. She just wished you'd known of hers.

Everything would be easier if you did.

What she remembers most vividly, as in what haunts her most, was your desperate pleading that came with tears, and sniffling to prevent a runny nose; to prevent her from running.

Something you yourself tried to do last night.

She remembers you trying to leave, it's a bit of a blur, but you reluctantly stayed when she begged pitifully in her sleepy, drunken stupor.

Now she's uneasy at the sight of you. You were a beautiful, yet tragic reminder of all that she wanted, but never felt like she had a right to take. But while under the influence she did. And the tricky part is she doesn't regret it.

The longer she stared at you the more inclined she felt to face the mess she made. To stay put. So the redhead inched closer to you, you were magnetizing. She couldn't help but attract.

The fading light of the moon had lit up your face, and her heart ached with a longing for permanence. It also weighed heavily with guilt upon seeing pieces of your hair stuck to the dried tear tracks that stained your cheeks.

Lithe, calloused hands touched you with soft intentions. Rough, but oddly soft fingertips trailed up your cheeks as she moved to cup them. Natasha choked back a sob as to not wake you, her heart just couldn't handle how you melted into her so naturally; perfectly.

Natasha continued to sob semi-openly. The hand that wasn't cradling your face lovingly is covering her mouth, forcing her to minimize output as she must rely on her nose to breathe.

"I'm sorry this is how this went down," she shook her head, but you couldn't see, "I'm so embarrassed baby, I wanted our first kiss to be special. I'd schedule the sprinklers for an odd time under Tony in the system. He's far too easy to hack." —— Natasha set aside a whole afternoon to hack into the geniuses files, after 20 minutes she was in line to get popcorn before going in disguise to see the 'shitty' rom coms she'd always protest watching with you.

She loved them — god did she love you.

More than she'd ever dreamed possible.

Natasha obviously loved your body in a way that transcended lust. The redhead adored your plush thighs. She loved to nap on them, there have been days where she spent the entire day in your room doing just that. However, she never claimed to be a saint, and so, in a devious contradiction she'd always imagined the cellulite divots to be a challenge for her. Meant for her to press her thumb into, just to wind up wrapping her fingers around the malleable area, she'd use her attractive strength to press your thighs up and thrust her strap even deeper into your squelching cunt.

Your walls would quiver around the silicone and you'd cry out for her to stop and keep going all at the same time. Blissfully confused.

God she wanted that, but now she fears she ruined it all by not confessing with her sanity.

"We would've been having a spread of peanut butter sandwiches, grapes and oreos," she paused to catch her breath, she was nervous, your likely hearing this confession on some level. "Then just as I victoriously landed a light green grape into your mouth the sprinklers would shoot out of the grass without even a warning squeak before we'd be jumping up in shock, and quickly deflating as our clothes are officially soaked through. I'd hoped you'd be giggling. Smile as bright as the sun behind you, giving you that perfect angel glow."

You struggled to contain yourself, this crazy idea that Natasha 'the ever so stoic Black Widow' Romanoff had these girlish fantasies of you was amusing, and incredibly endearing.

Your body warmed as she spoke so tenderly.

Natasha sniffled into the sleeve of her hoodie, then a bitter chuckle left her lips. "We would have inched closer as we decided to dance in the metaphorical rain. Then I would have put my hand on your cheek, while my other lands on your waist. Then it would be up to you to ask me to pull you in." Natasha softly sighed.

She went to cradle your face with her free hand, but she lost her balance, shaking the bed and slipping your face from her right hands soft stabilization, right onto her left, your cold, damp lips pursed against the skin of her palm.

Natasha shivered at the delicate touch. Faint memories hitting her, a warmth settling over her pale pink lips, as she choppily remembered bits and pieces of last night in the elevator.

In a shaky whisper, the Russian beauty said: "Then when you sheepishly nodded, or squeaked out an adorable yes I would've pulled you in, and kissed you slow Y/N. Letting you, my precious girl, decide the eventual tempo."

Natasha let her face hover over yours, your breaths softly puffed against her skin as she whispered on about her perfect date. "We'd have probably ran to a dry part of land, likely further in the woods that gave way to shadows. Deep green leaves to gorgeously rival the pear green shaded ones. Then just as you caught your breath I'd rob you of it and push you into an oak tree; where I'd love you if you let me."

Natasha squeaked when you hastily broke the minuscule distance, leaning up to kiss her hard. Confirming her suspicions that you'd been awake the whole time. She was a spy, but so were you, so the usual context clues, like ones breathing patterns, aren't exactly credible.

The kiss was sloppy, full of obvious desperation on both ends. You were so afraid she'd run, but you realize now that you underestimated her.

"You're here," you acknowledged, tears springing to your eyes as you felt overwhelmed by immense happiness. She smiled solemnly. "I'm here to stay moya lyubov'," she promised in a hushed tone, "I won't run, I swear to it."

"You're serious Natty?" Natasha nodded with a grin that was widening at the sight of your face. A stray tear ran down your cheek, but it wasn't sad, it was one of relief, one she understood.

"Yes, I'm not going anywhere, at least not without you by my side." Her entire body warmed as you giggled unabashedly, she'd only booped your nose to emphasize her prior sentiments, in hindsight she saw how it could be deemed childish, but she didn't mind much. Hearing your joy is what manifested her own.

"Soooo," your voice trailed off, anxiety bubbled beneath the surface keeping you choked up.

"Yes," Natasha softly answered your wordless question, her lips pressing to your cheek as she sought to comfort you. "You're mine now." Her lips then pressed to yours. "And I'm yours."

"Please remind me to thank Alexei and Thor."

Natasha laughed, belly aching as her face fell into the crook of your neck. "You ruined it," she groaned against your skin, "the moment was perfect, and you just couldn't let it be."

"I'm known for my anxious responses Nat," you reminded her, "Be sure that's what you.." Natasha shushed you with a finger over your lips, pulling back from your neck she glared down at you without heat. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm locked in baby girl."

Natasha smiled when your body melted into her mattress, it was as if her words unlocked the remainder of the tension in your body.

The moment was once again perfect, she leaned back down to slowly kiss you, her tongue was seconds away from entering your mouth until she was startled. The sounds going off in your stomach were reminiscent of hectic war times, it sent her head flying backwards in shock. "When did you eat last Y/N?"

You sheepishly laughed, "I think lunch."

Natasha gasped before immediately leaving you alone on her bed, she removed her phone from its charging dock then wordlessly slipped into her bathroom. You were confused, sure, but you knew there was likely a reason for her reaction. (She cared about you very much.)

"Okay, so I ordered breakfast from that diner up the street that you love," Natasha began to ramble methodically, "Today is a lazy day, I have deemed it as such so Steve was already told to fuck off, and to stay away from you."

Natasha's next set of words died on her tongue, you'd moved to sit up now, and under the light of the sun she noticed you were in her clothes.

An old, tattered Green Day T-shirt that she stole from Clint, and a pair of panties hidden beneath the length. She wondered what color.

"Natty?" The woman looked to you in a daze, but she quickly shook out of it at the sight of your extended hand. She accepted it with ease and you pulled her into your lap, the cold skin of your thigh pressed into the warmth of her own and she shuddered softly. Her viridescent eyes fluttered open to find your gentle smile waiting, and she could only think about kissing you, she'd pretend it was for the first time.

You sighed heavily, an indication of nerves, and she worried you'd changed your mind. But then you speak and everything settles, "I know it's a bit soon, but I hope you understand that I love you," you smile as you speak, "I've loved you for years, and I want to put it all out there."

"I think that it's actually a bit late," Natasha acknowledges with a teasing smirk, "We've been idiots for long enough Y/N. No more."

You shook your head in emphasis, "No more." Natasha mirrors your goofy smile as you cup her face, thumb stroking over the raised apple of her cheek just before you're pulling her in for a kiss that leaves you both feeling restless.

Natasha had moved to straddle your closed thighs, her arms lazily wrapped around your neck as she let you devour her mouth whole. There was a natural flow established, the redhead ground her hips down into you as burning arousal coursed through her veins. It seemed promiscuously promising even, especially with how she whimpered into your mouth shamelessly. Then the moment was over as Friday boomed through her speakers.

“Attention Agent Romanoff, your breakfast has arrived, and Mr. Stark refuses to send anyone upstairs in fear of a traumatic encounter.”

Natasha growls against your lips, “Pretentious fucking twat is asking for an ass whooping.”

You giggled, “Is he wrong Natty?” Natasha shrugged, her lips were pursed thoughtfully as she silently noted your compromised position.

“I mean,” you paused, pushing her even closer via the hand you had on her back, the one that was barely above her ass. “I wouldn’t exactly mind having you for my breakfast.”

Natasha smirked, her plump lips now ghosting over yours, and only brushing yours lightly. “Nice try detka,” she whispered, her lips found yours again, but in a much softer kiss that she controlled this time. “I don’t want to rush,” she timidly admitted, “We have time, and I want to take you out to dinner before serving dessert.”

The redhead winked as she left the room, you fell back against the mattress with a huff, she always was such a tease. Even in friendship. You loved her in spite of that, and as the lust faded you felt your mind reach the same place.

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Natasha was smiling like an idiot as she leaned her warm body into the cold metal. Her fingers brushed over her lips, they were burning with memory’s of yours and her heart fluttered in her chest.

When she returned to find you snoring softly she couldn’t help but to shake her head in amusement. Warmth overtook her body as she imagined this becoming a more familiar sight.

Natasha vowed to spend the rest of her life chasing down the sweet moments like these with you. Nothing in this world would ever mean as much to the woman as you do.

At least that's what she believed, until the day she first held your son in her arms, she swears she actually felt her heart doubling in size.

Everything made sense to her now, her heart at genuine ease for the first time in her entire life.

————

3,168 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥺

If you’re feeling angsty, here, have a bonus ending: Then it shattered, as yours flatlined...

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #queued post

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lorebeth · 4 months

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Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Jing Yuan's child and but they ended up running away to stay with their mother because they keep messing things up especially after Jing Yuan and the readers mother got divorced. it takes awhile but a few months later the reader suddenly returned to the Loufu because of some disaster where the reader had been living with their mother and Jing Yuan also wanted to talk the reader so he would finally be able to apologize to them especially after he accidentally saw the diary they kept on their computer. (I was kind of inspired by the first episode of The Owl House season three Thank To Them for this request but If you're not not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight☺️)

I nearly cried bro I accidentally deleted everything I’m gonna sob but I rewrote it!!

IM SO SORRY IVE LITERALLY BEEN DEAD I SWEAR THE SECOND I WROTE FANFICS I GOT YHE MOST DEADLY COUGH OF MY LIFE I WAS SICK FOR THREE MONTHS STRAIGHT 😭😭😭 I HAD WHOOPING COUGH ISTG

My exams started a little while ago too and I had a request before this, I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH AND IM SORRY ITS SO LATE OMG I DIDNT MEAN TO DROP OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!!!

TW: mention of bad coping mechanisms - no outright mention of sh, yanqing and reader share a sibling bond, jing yuan is kinda ooc in my opinion… I genuinely think there’s a paragraph missing somewhere and a bunch of spelling mistakes so please bare with me 🙏🙏🙏 Yanqing referred to as brother multiple times near the end!!!

It all started after the divorce. Your grades plummeted and your training sessions with your father became scarce. Your footing during combat was mediocre at best and you found yourself closing off from friends and even your own father.

He was worried about you from the beginning, never wanting you to be at the centre of the messy divorce especially during one of the most stressful weeks at the Luofu no doubt. The IPC had arrived on short notice and demanded immediate attention, leaving your father to worry about not only them but how you felt and your mental state too.

How he showed his care however… It was not the best. He would make sure others spent time with you in his place, whenever you wanted to see him, you would be notified by a guard or one of his subordinates who would be tasked to hang out with you that he was unavailable and you wouldn’t see him until later.

This did not make you feel better, instead you got into contact with your mother again, her reaching out and asking to spend time with you. You didn’t know how to feel and had mixed emotions but ultimately coming to the conclusion to give her a chance and slowly working up to a happier relationship with her again. Not only were you disappointed at your father but also your mother.

She told you all about her new home and how it resembled the Luofu so much, how she would be delighted for you to join her one day. You liked that idea a lot! Especially since you had a feeling that your father’s subordinates didn’t want to babysit you anymore.

You worked on yourself and started training again, this time not with your father. The IPC had left weeks ago and promised to come back to settle matters with your father once and for all. You didn’t care about that though, you still hadn’t seen your father in a week up until the point of training.

“That’s right, Y/N!” Yanqing praised. He had become one of your closest companions and you both had a sibling-like bond: he knew you better than anyone else and you vice versa. He had become your pillar and knew all your secrets, even about the unhealthy coping you had developed and how to better maintain your emotions and habits during the tough days.

Jing Yuan knew of you two’s training sessions and had guards keep him posted on your location at all times. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kept himself away from you at the fear of being neglectful and disappointing you again. He remembers the last time you both were in the same room, you had begged to play chess with him. He had pushed you away, saying;

“I’m busy, Y/N. Please go find someone else.”

He in fact wasn’t that busy, he just couldn’t bare to see you and thought you were disappointed in him. He replayed that scenario in his head multiple times the entire week he’s gone without seeing you and at the back of his mind is the broken relationship with your mother. He cannot bring himself to forgive what he had done to your mother to make her leave, and he was worried you would eventually leave him as well. In desperate attempt, he would send you trinkets and clothing to try repair the missing attention he couldn’t give you, but you stopped taking them after a while. His heart couldn’t bare to see you upset at him, so he buried himself in his paper work. Surprising all those around him, especially Fu Xuan. She was extremely impressed and scared. She had no clue when he became so serious about his work and almost drowning himself in it.

Fu Xuan knew it had to do with you. She was one of your mothers closest friends and knew that you went through one of the toughest situations of all, your parents both fighting for custody and ultimately putting you in the middle of their arguments. She also had to hang out with you in place of Jing Yuan sometimes, knowing exactly how you felt and being able to read you like an open book. She couldn’t help but feel angry at your father, cursing him and his stupidity. For a General, he sure was an idiot for denying you the love and attention you deserved, instead making others give it to you when you instead needed your father.

You fucked up. Earlier this morning in a final attempt to reconnect with your father, you walked in on a meeting of his. You had no clue he had visitors and you went everywhere in the house trying to look for him. He never let you get involved in meetings - stating you were too young and shouldn’t worry about such trivial matters. You tried to respect his wishes every time, knowing he was a well respected figure and you didn’t want to mess that up for him.

“So, this morning I received word from-“ the voice of your father stopped as you opened the door to his private study. His closest subordinates sitting around a table, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Everyone turned to look at you and you felt your face get hot, your knees wobble and tears prick your eyes. You screwed the fuck up.

“I’m sorry! I was just-“ you couldn’t finish off the sentence, you felt your throat closing up in panic. You made eye contact with everyone, noticing pity and sympathy in their eyes. You hated it so much… But what caught you the most off guard was the hard expression on your fathers face. His eyes calculating and holding an emotion you couldn’t decipher. You wanted to explode on the spot.

Quickly and almost aggressively, you slammed the door behind you, shaking the hinges and wanting the ground to swallow you whole more than ever.

The look in your fathers eyes. Was he disappointed with you? Did he have enough? Did he not love you anymore? Were you being too pushy about hanging out with him? Why was he looking at you so coldly? You wanted to cry and sob and forget about everything. Go back to the days before the divorce. You wanted everything to be the way it was. Going out with your mother and father, being showered with love and affection, being given small trinkets that your father said reminded him of both you and your mother.

You felt yourself spiralling again. You needed to go see Yanqing and quick.

“Oh Y/N…” Yanqing nearly pleaded with you. He knew that look on your face, your swollen eyes and your weak frown, he was immediately sympathetic and knew something bad happened between you and Jing Yuan.

Yanqing himself considered Jing Yuan his father in a sense too and you his sibling, so he knew you well enough to grasp you and Jing Yuan’s connection. He also loved your mother as his own and the divorce hit him pretty harsh as well. But he understood they fought about you the most, and how helpless you felt. He never held that against you and tried his best to make sure you were safe and as happy as could be, but right now? What the hell happened?

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” He held you in his arms as you felt your tears never ending.

“I think father’s upset with me…” you couldn’t help inhale air with small hiccups and double takes, staining Yanqing’s shirt with your salty tears. You wanted to pry away and apologise but you felt too weak and mentally exhausted. You felt stupid and not worth it, not worth your father.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding, Y/N! He loves you, of course he does!” Yanqing offered, he help you tighter and you felt all your emotions explode again, crying harder than before.

“You should have seen the look on his face- he stared and stared with that cold look!” you wrapped your arms around Yanqing’s back and clung onto him hopelessly.

“I- N/N…” he started, only for you to cut him off.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking about moving with mother…” you sniffled, having calmed down much more than before. You felt Yanqing freeze around you.

“W-what do you mean?” He uttered in disbelief.

You dropped your arms slowly and looked up at the young boy, wiping your tears and holding his hand in your own.

“Let’s face it. Things haven’t been the same since the divorce. Father’s been avoiding me like the plague, sending everyone but him to come hang out with me. For Aeon’s sake, he didn’t even come to the park like we always used to on the First Full Moon of the month…” you whispered, emotion turning your voice hoarse and painful, as if thorns were tightening at your throat.

“But- but it could get better! I’m sure if I spoke to him, he’d understand!” Yanqing stared at you with determination in his eyes, his hope shining bright.

“I don’t think it will. Not after today. I promise to come visit you, I swear it! I just- I don’t want to embarrass myself more in front of father than I already have. I don’t think he deserves that.” you state gently.

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt excited. Not that hanging out with Yanqing and sending letters to your mother wasn’t fun, but you genuinely wanted some where new to explore, a different atmosphere away from the burden of trying to please a father who couldn’t even bother look you in the eyes. You needed a change of pace.

“I promise I’ll write you to everyday!” You beam at him. The boy looks at you with uncertainty in his gaze and sadness. After losing your mother, he didn’t want to lose you too. But he knew it would make you happier than ever. And plus, he loves reading your spelling mistakes. It’s a win-win in his book.

You had left nearly 3 months ago, keeping your promise and sending voice recordings to your brother and small videos here and there, as well as handwritten envelopes with flowers from the beautiful planet your mother came to. She had told you it’s history and how they had been rebuilding themselves as an Oasis in the making. Her mother, your grandmother came from this beautiful planet and you couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to the natives here. You felt at home, much more than you ever did on the Luofu.

You hadn’t told you father about your departure, having opted to pack you bags immediately and call your mother, asking for a quick and easy way to travel to her home world. She accepted immediately and welcomed you with open arms.

You eventually told her why you left and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “That man wouldn’t know discipline and responsibility if it hit him with the entire Luofu itself! How he’s made it all these years is beyond me. I’m sorry you experienced that my love. I’m glad you’re with me now.” She would scoff at your father’s actions and always pat your head, getting ready to go to work or take you out during her days off. She would also help you record videos for Yanqing and would mention how she missed her son dearly, always calling him hers and asking if he’s been eating well, showing in her own way she cares.

You didn’t want to know about your father and Yanqing never told you, waiting only to tell you when you asked. Which never came.

Eventually, you had made friends with the locals, learned your native tongue and made sure that everyone was happy, having been placed to understudy your mother and work alongside her in the Guild to provide for the elders of the City. You also volunteered to as many soup kitchens as possible and helped with poverty wherever you could. Your mothers home was beautiful but the economy was rather poor, leading to the fittest to provide for the elders and young children.

You returned home one day after a successful evening at the kitchen only to have received three distress signals from Yanqing and one from your father. You felt sick to your stomach and as if you were about to faint.

Quickly you opened your signals and heard voice messages come through.

“Y/N! Please! You need to come back to the Luofu right now! It’s Jing Yuan! He’s- he’s been in critical condition since this evening!”

“Please! Fu Xuan is panicking and it’s throwing me off… I- I don’t know what to do! Please…”

“He’s finally okay! He’s in a stable condition… it’s been hours! Please tell me you’re okay, Y/N! He’s been asking for you… Please return to the Luofu…”

You didn’t dare open your father’s one. It was staring at you as if cornering you . Ready to eat you alive.

“Y/N. You should return.” Your mother said beside your doorframe. She had heard everything and wanted to make sure you were okay.

“I- but…?” You started, only to be met with your mother’s questioning gaze. You knew you should go visit your brother and father, Yanqing was worried and your father could have died. You had to see him.

“Okay…” you couldn’t help but worry.

The air was different on the Luofu than your mother’s planet. It was crisp, almost as if there was electricity in the air, waiting to strike at any moment.

As you made your way down the streets to your home, you felt a familiar presence and turned around to see Yanqing running at you full speed, nearly knocking you down ass first onto the pavement.

“Y/NNN!!!!!” He nearly sobbed. It was endearing and a little too tight of a hug, but you reciprocated.

“Hey there, Yanqing! I’ve missed you.” You felt your eyes tear up. You had truly missed your brother and wanted him to be safe.

“I’ve missed you too. I really hope you’re happy. But..! Please- Jing Yuan- he’s been so tired and I’ve never seen him this restless. You have to go see him.” The boy stopped hugging you to stare at you with complete sadness.

You felt as if your body was in fight or flight, wanting to drop kick your brother and run for the hills of your mothers home planet. But that would be uncivilised and you’d feel bad later.

“Okay…” you agreed with apprehension.

You had entered your father’s house. Everything was the same way it was when you left. The same colours, same tapestries, even the same stupid old vase you hated and wanted to break on multiple occasions at the ugliness of it. You truly didn’t miss this place one bit but at the same time missed all the memories and the unfulfilled promises.

As you walked the final step of stairs and walked to the end of the hall, you were met with the door of your father’s bedroom. He had shared it once with your mother and you nearly sobbed at the sight of it. Last time you had been in his room was when you had a nightmare and wanted your mother, having snuck into the bed to be with her.

You quickly pulled off the bandaid. Knocking softly three times and rethinking doing it again having garnered no reply.

Just as you brought your hand up to knock again, a hoarse voice spoke out. “Come in.”

You felt your stomach do summersaults and wanted to evaporate into thin air. But you had to pull the bandaid off completely, no?

You opened the door gently and closed it behind you, walking to your father’s bed and having made eye contact with him half way through your walk. His eyes were glassy and he was in his bed with bandages all over his chest, arms and even one on his neck. You nearly broke into tears.

“Y/N…” he uttered softly. His gaze piercing yet soft. He missed you dearly and wanted to reach out desperately to apologise for how he treated you. But you weren’t here to hear his excuses.

“Father…” you couldn’t hold it back and the tears started flowing again. Jing Yuan slowly rose up and took your hand to his chest, pulling your entire body towards him and laying you on his bed, kissing your forehead and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and kept apologising, remembering how you had left without a word and wanting it all to have been a bad dream.

“You’re my child, Y/N. And I should have treated you better. I did not mean to chase you away or make you feel incompetent. I adore you and you are one of the only good things in my life. My life’s purpose.” He whispered into your hair.

“I- I should have been there when you were upset. I am sorry for neglecting you. I wish I had spoken to you more and kept the relationship.” He held you tighter, as if afraid you would disappear any minute.

“I’ve read your diary, Y/N.” You freeze. Oh shit. He started to pet your head and you feel tears blind your vision.

“Father- you weren’t..!” You can’t finish due to the hiccups taking over your body. He only pushes you away to look into your eyes carefully.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. You were never the reason me and your mother didn’t work out. You will forever be my top priority, and I am so sorry you felt otherwise. You are my child- my one true love. I will never stop fighting for you, nor your brother. Please, give me one last chance to prove to you my dear child.” His eyes were glassy and he had extreme eye bags, a curtesy of his non-existent sleep schedule.

You didn’t know how to reply. Of course he still loved you, even after the lack of communication on his behalf and your insecurities leading up to the emotional turmoil in your relationship.

“You’re my father. Of course I’ll always give you a second chance..” you whisper against him again.

You had a feeling that everything was going to be okay again.

#honkai star rail #Honkai #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #platonic jing yuan #Jing yuan hsr #hsr Jing yuan #x reader #yanqing #yanqing hsr #yanqing x reader

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 1 year

Text

Turning Points

Pairing: Éomer x reader (who doesn’t want to imagine themselves hanging out with Éomer??). Plus an Elfhelm cameo because I love that dude.

Summary: Éomer’s lifelong best friend reckons with how much and how quickly his life has changed as a result of the war and wonders what that means for the life she had hoped to have with him.

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

The clear, deep sound of horns rang out in the distance and alerted all of Edoras to the imminent arrival of the army, home for the first time since that urgent, panicked ride to Helm’s Deep more than two months ago. Although word of their subsequent deeds and victories in Gondor had already reached the city, many details were yet unknown, and the mood of those who gathered in the streets was celebratory but tinged with anxiety as hopeful eyes prepared to scan the returning éoreds for a first glimpse of deeply missed loved ones.

The terrace in front of Meduseld quickly filled with people, and you slipped easily into the crowd as the first few companies of horsemen began to climb the hill. The riders smiled broadly at the cheers and flowers that rained down on them, though some still bore clear evidence of painful wounds and fractures. Others led behind them riderless horses, the mounts of those soldiers who would never return. You whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude, knowing from the messengers who had gone back and forth from Minas Tirith that both of those most precious to you were safely in the host.

No sooner had you finished your prayer than a cry went up from the crowd–“Hail, Elfhelm, Marshal of Edoras!”—and your father came into view. As gregarious as he was popular, he played shamelessly to the crowd, doffing his stallion-crested helmet and waving a shield that had clearly been confiscated from some defeated Haradrim commander. When his eyes finally landed on you, he gave a joyful whoop and sprang from the saddle. Throwing the helmet and shield aside, he ran to you with the speed of a much younger man, and the strength of his embrace forced the breath from your lungs. He spun you around several times as you kissed his sunburned cheeks, and when he placed you on your feet again he grasped your shoulders and gazed for a long moment at your face.

“Many nights have I dreamed of just this view,” he said. “There is no finer one in all of Middle Earth.”

You gave his hands a squeeze. “I have not known a moment’s peace since you left. Now that you are back, I may never let you leave again.”

“I am at your command, my lady,” he said with a smile and an exaggerated bow. “But I do not flatter myself so much as to think that I am the only one you have been missing. The royal household will be arriving soon, and I am certain you are as eager to see the new king as he must be to see you.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at the mention of Éomer, but this was not the time or the place to open the gate that held back those feelings. “For my part, I shall certainly be glad to see him home and safe. But a man such as Éomer has many friends, and no doubt he desires to see them all.”

He burst into laughter. “Do you speak such nonsense on purpose, or have I really raised you to be so naive? I know that you do not admit it to others, and perhaps not even between yourselves, but I have watched the two of you for many years now and I know love when I see it. Let us not pretend you are just one friend among many, a single star in a crowded sky. You are his sun, just as he is yours. I may be old, but I am certainly not blind.”

Your face flushed in pain and embarrassment. If your father had perceived all of this, likely others had, too. It was true that you loved Éomer, and you had always believed he loved you back. You felt his devotion in the way he trusted you and watched out for you, in the look on his face when you walked into a room. But neither of you had ever stated it outright. Perhaps you had been wrong all along, reading a great deal too much into a cherished friendship. Or perhaps what he felt was no longer relevant given his new responsibilities and duties. Either way, when Éomer married another in a few months' time, your crushed hopes would be on display for the whole city to see and discuss.

“Things have changed, father. You know that. The Éomer that I have known all my life was Éomund’s son. He was not heir to the throne of Rohan and certainly not its king. His life is very different now from the one we might have expected just months ago when Théodred was still alive.”

He sighed. “Much has happened, I concede. He has gone from nephew to heir to king. He nearly lost his sister. He comes home with much to reflect on. But his heart itself has not changed.”

“Has it not?” Despite your best efforts, your voice broke and tears began to slide down your cheeks. “Then what of the news that has already made its way back here in advance of your return? Amongst word of your victories and the death of poor Théoden, it also said that Éomer is to marry the princess of Dol Amroth. They say she is considered a proper match for a king of the Mark, and that none less than the new king of Gondor himself proposed it. If I have heard this, surely you have, too.”

Your father reached up to gently brush a tear aside. “Anyone who would claim that you–the finest woman in all of Rohan–are not a proper match for our own king does not have sense enough to offer an opinion on the subject. I have heard this talk of Dol Amroth, it is true, but I have not heard any of it from Éomer’s own lips. And I will not believe it unless I do. His choice was made long ago. You will see.” He put a finger under your chin and tipped your face up to him. “Now, I would stay here and debate this with you all day if your mother were not surely waiting for me at home. And if she thinks I have not hurried there with sufficient speed, she will soon accomplish what all the swordsmen of Harad could not!”

You smiled in spite of yourself and kissed him one last time before he remounted his horse. He gave you a wink as he rode on, and you dried your eyes before turning back to the procession of riders making their way forward.

Before long, the king’s banner appeared at the bottom of the hill. Even at that distance, it was easy to identify Éomer among the many men of his household–you would always recognize his frame and the way he carried himself even if he were not wearing his distinctive horse-tailed helmet and sitting astride Firefoot, who had now been arrayed with a saddle and bridle that sparkled with the gold of a monarch.

As he came into closer view, you could begin to discern the new trappings of royalty–the beautiful green cloak trimmed with shining gold embroidery, the neatly braided hair, the fur-lined boots. But underneath these superficial changes, he still looked like your Éomer. The same man who shared with you a lifetime of confidences and mischief and private jokes. The one who cried in your arms when he missed his parents. Who doted on you whenever you were sick and angrily confronted anyone he thought had hurt your feelings. Who stole your breath every time he turned his hazel eyes and dimpled smile in your direction.

His company dismounted near the bottom of the terrace, and he moved toward the stairs, trailed by attendants, guards and throngs of well-wishers eager to greet their new king. The clamor presented a perfect opportunity to slip away now that you had confirmed with your own eyes that he was safe and unharmed. It was the coward’s way out, but even one more day before you had to directly confront your new reality would be a gift. Just as you began to turn away, however, the sound of his voice carried over the tumult, calling your name.

You froze in place as he approached, feeling immediately uncertain of everything–how to stand, where to look, what to do. A lifetime of affectionate greetings and easy companionship had not prepared you to meet under these circumstances, not as intimate friends but as ruler and subject. Beloved and left behind. Hearing nothing but the sound of your own blood pulsing in your veins, you bowed and looked down.

“Hail, Éomer King.” When you finally raised your eyes, you could see uncertainty written on his face as well. He took another step toward you but stopped, and tentatively reached out a hand before dropping it back to his side. He looked in both directions, where dozens of attentive faces observed his every move.

“I am glad to see you,” he said quietly. His eyes sought yours, and when you allowed them to meet he gave you a soft smile. “I have missed you.”

“I…I am much relieved to see you home. These have been long and anxious months.��

Before either of you could speak again, an armored man at Éomer’s side cleared his throat and nodded in the direction of Meduseld. “You are expected in the hall, my lord. There is much business awaiting your attention, including messages due both to Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth.”

The mention of Dol Amroth sent an icy stab of pain into your chest, and you shrank back several steps, seeking a swift retreat. “Go ahead, my lord,” you managed to say. “A king’s duties must come first.”

His thick brows drew together and he frowned slightly, but eventually he nodded his assent. Your feet carried you away and down a maze of small streets and back alleys, picking up speed as you got further from the crowd, until at last you reached the edge of the city and disappeared into the surrounding fields and paddocks. You cast yourself down in the tall, sweet-smelling grass, shedding tears until you had none left and then staring up dolefully at the flat, blank sky. No matter how you considered and reconsidered your position, only two excruciating choices seemed to lay before you–either to find a new way to love Éomer, shorn of all romantic possibility and content to exist on the terms available to you, or to lose him entirely from your life. The first option felt beyond your strength, but the second was utterly unthinkable.

Uncounted hours passed until it began to darken and torches and candles sparked to life in the distance. Miserable and cold but not yet ready to join the revelry of your family, you wandered back to the city and found yourself headed to the old tack room at the marshal’s stables. Ever since childhood, the abandoned little storage space had served as a private spot to meet your friends, talk or simply to think, and during the war you had spent many hours there alone ruthlessly poring over your fears and concerns.

Throwing open the door and expecting to find it empty as always, you instead walked straight into Éomer, practically bouncing off his chest as he stood just past the threshold. Gone were the outward adornments of royalty, and he looked as you were accustomed to seeing him—simple clothing, well-used boots, hair in loose waves on his shoulders. “Éomer! I mean….I’m sorry. Excuse me, my lord.”

He grimaced a little. “Please, that is not necessary here. Not when it is us. I would like one piece of my old life that is familiar, someone who will still treat me not as king but as myself. I thought you might be here and hoped we could talk as we always have.”

He sat on an old saddle trunk and looked up at you expectantly. Here now was the first opportunity to test your strength—to be there for him simply as a friend and see if you could endure it—and so you nodded and sat next to him.

He was quiet at first, looking around the room and seeming lost in thought. The issue of his pending marriage felt to you like a heavy, palpable presence in the room, but you did not have the heart to raise the subject yet. Instead, you clasped your arms around yourself and waited for him to speak, to give some indication of what he was thinking.

“Do you remember my fifteenth birthday?” he asked suddenly.

“Your…fifteenth birthday? Yes, I think so.” Fragments of distant memories quickly reassembled in your mind. “That was the night you dragged a stolen cask of ale in here, wasn’t it? And then you drank more than half of it all on your own.”

“Which meant you had to spend the rest of the night holding back my hair while I experienced the consequences.”

You smiled. “Yes. Though I experienced some of your consequences, too, if I recall. Those shoes were never the same again.”

He snorted a laugh, and for just a moment things felt almost normal again. Easy and light, as they had been when you were just those two coltish teenagers, having fun and testing the limits of your adolescent independence. But as the laughter faded, the awkwardness returned and his face turned serious.

“I am sorry about this morning.” He shook his head slowly. “That was not how I imagined our reunion, but everything has become so difficult and formal now. I have few moments to myself or chances to do as I once would.”

You could hear in his voice the strain of this adjustment to always being the focus of attention, to being one who is honored and deferred to instead of one who is engaged with. No wonder he was thinking of earlier, simpler days. You longed to comfort him, to take his hand or sit with your head against his shoulder. “Do not apologize,” you said instead. “I understand that you have new demands on you. I regret only that I was not able to tell you how sorry I am about your uncle. I will miss his kind heart.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I take comfort in knowing that he would be proud of what his death achieved.”

Another small silence ensued before he looked up and smiled at you. “But now I must apologize again,” he said, “for I have not yet asked after you. Please, tell me how you have been since we last saw each other.”

You gave a dismissive wave of your hand. “There is not much to tell, at least nothing to stand alongside the great tales we have already heard of your heroic deeds.”

“I do not ask for great tales,” he insisted. “I want only to hear about you and what I have missed, great or small.”

“Well, what you missed were endless hours of inventories and supplies and checklists and stockpiles. Many of the men who typically see to those basic concerns were injured or killed at Helm’s Deep, or they were called away to your muster. So I filled my days with work that they would have done…tracking stores of food and medicine and equipment, ensuring they were sent where they were most needed, planning for replenishments when stocks ran low. It was nothing I have ever done before, obviously, but I am careful with numbers and can keep good records, which is most of what was required.”

He chuckled. “Old Elfhelm has always been so proud that his daughter is one of the few in Rohan to read and write. I heard him bragging as much to one of Lord Elrond’s sons back in Gondor.”

You smiled and shrugged. “That certainly sounds like him. He has never lacked paternal enthusiasm. Or the confidence to share his enthusiasm with literally anyone.”

“That is true, but he is right to be proud. You should be proud as well. Hunger and disease often follow in war’s footsteps, even for the victors, and that has not been allowed to happen here despite the destruction of so many villages and farms and the absence of so many of the normal laborers. That is a service any king would value.”

Your cheeks bloomed a bright red, and he smiled at your discomfort with praise. In truth, though, you were quite proud of what you had accomplished, and it was only hearing the praise from his lips that sent waves of warm color to your face. “Thank you,” you mumbled at last.

He seemed on the verge of speaking again, but instead he leaned back against the wall and contemplated the floor for several long moments. His knee jogged quickly up and down, a nervous tic he’d had ever since boyhood. Before you could ask what was troubling him, however, he looked up with an unsettling intensity.

“May I ask you something? And you will respond to me honestly, no matter what?”

His earnest tone sparked a flare of anxiety in your chest. Was this the moment when he intended to tell you of his engagement? When you would have to somehow react to this news with the graciousness and dignity you knew were required? “I will certainly try.”

He took a deep breath and winced slightly in anticipation of speaking. “I have spent many hours now reflecting on things that Éowyn related to me before I left Gondor. How she did not feel that she was able to live the life she wanted when she was here. That she could not be who she was meant to be simply because she was born a woman. I am ashamed that I was blind to the causes of her unhappiness and that she did not feel that she could confide her true feelings to me earlier. But having failed her then, I worry now that I may have failed others in my life as well. Others who are equally important to me.”

He suddenly turned and grasped your forearms, repositioning you both so that you now sat face to face rather than side by side.

“If you have ever felt that same unhappiness or believed that I was not willing or able to understand your feelings, will you now forgive me? I would not want anyone else to suffer as Éowyn did, and least of all you.”

Your heart broke a little at his words. It broke for Éomer, who would sooner give his life than intentionally hurt someone he cared for, and it broke for Éowyn, whose full feelings had never before been revealed to you. But, hearing now how she had felt, something in her words resonated with a deep part of you, reverberating off a chord you had not always been consciously aware of. You thought carefully for several moments before responding.

“If you ask me whether I ever resented you or the life that I led, the answer is no. I have always trusted in you above all others, and my life never felt anything but normal to me. But I, too, have reflected on these last months, and perhaps I can now better understand Éowyn’s mind.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue.

“Amid the tragedy of these days, I found some purpose and meaning in the work I did. It was gratifying to feel truly useful for the first time. I did not know it before, as you do not know to miss something you never had, but once that instinct is awakened it is difficult to ignore. It seems it was awakened in Éowyn long ago. But, for myself, I cannot deny that I will now be deeply saddened to lose my sense of purpose once the men are all returned to their old duties and the help of a woman is no longer accepted.”

“Maybe that is not what has to happen,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I would not come to a new understanding of the world, to learn a necessary lesson at a steep cost, only to ignore that lesson and rule my kingdom as though I do not know any better. This will not be a land that I want to rule if half the people must always limit their talents and hopes to fit within the meager bounds afforded to them by the other half.”

His words hung in the air as you struggled to make sense of what you had heard. A chance to share in the great works and deeds of the kingdom, just as the elven women had always done in their own lands? To learn and achieve and stretch yourself in ways that had never before been possible, and not just when dictated by the necessity of war but as a part of everyday life? You had scarcely the courage to even dream of such a thing, but now it was being offered to you. And you knew you wanted it. “I will be the first to stand behind you in any such effort,” you say at last. “But what you suggest is a radical departure from the way that things have been for all the years of our history, indeed from the way that they have always been in all the lands of men. There may be strong opposition to change.”

“I do not fear a difficult task if I know it to be necessary. I will see it done.” He paused and gently picked up your hand to hold it between both of his. “Though I would be aided by the help of a capable queen. One who will rule with me, not as a token or a symbol, but as a true partner.”

His touch sent a jolt of lightning through your arm, and you looked down at your hand to watch his thumb run lightly back and forth over your wrist. It left a trail of fire on your skin. “I…Well, I do not think I understand. Surely you mean Prince Imrahil’s daughter?”

“Imrahil’s daughter?” He looked startled. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because news of a royal engagement travels quickly, perhaps faster than you realize. Half of Edoras has already heard about you and the princess of Dol Amroth.”

“Then half of Edoras has heard wrong.”

A small gasp escaped your lips before you could act to hold it back. You looked up into his eyes and drew a shallow breath. “Then…then you have changed your mind?”

“I have not, but only because it never needed changing. I am certain that any daughter of Imrahil is a good and worthy woman, but I declined that match when it was suggested. Any report to the contrary is the result of confusion or rumor. It is true that I am ready for marriage, but I do not wish to bind myself forever to someone I barely know. To someone whose heart and mind I do not yet fully understand. Not when my own heart has long been reserved for one who I already know to be the best of women.” He drew your hand up and pressed it tightly to his chest, where you could feel the steady, strong beat of that heart against your fingertips. “If she will have me.”

All the world seemed suddenly still, as though you were balanced precariously on the crest of a hill, waiting for the last tip forward that would send you rushing headlong down into a new and joyous life. You opened your mouth to respond but found that no words would come. Instead, you raised a hand to his face, lightly tracing your fingers along his jaw before sinking them into his dark golden hair and pulling him toward you for a kiss that had been decades in the making.

It was worth the wait.

#lotr #lord of the rings #fan fiction #lotr fanfic #eomer #eomer x reader #hail eomer king #and Elfhelm too #i do apologize to the lothiriel fans #i’ve just always wanted to see him pick someone from the home team!

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sundrop-writes · 10 months

Text

The Girl Next Door

Hank Hall x Fem!Reader x Dawn Granger

Summary:

When you move in across the hall from Hank and Dawn, they become incredibly protective of you. When you ask Dawn for some advice to help your sex life along - she and Hank show you that everything you ever wanted has been right across the hall all along.

Dom!Hank Hall x Sub!Fem!Reader x Dom!Dawn Granger. Neighbours to Lovers. Smut. Set before the major canon.

Word Count: 5,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: there is a mention of the reader being sexually assaulted (groped) by a random outside man - and Dawn and Hank kick his ass, mentions of canon level violence (not super detailed), the reader is more feminine - it’s mentioned that she wears make-up and participates in typical beauty rituals, age gap relationship (I imagine the reader to be 22/23, Dawn is 27/28, and Hank is 32/33) and it is mentioned in the fic that Hank feels slightly ‘guilty’ about the reader being so much younger than him and having sexual feelings for her - but he gets over those feelings of guilt when he realizes that the reader is showing enthusiastic consent/has a lot of lust for him and Dawn in return, sub/dom dynamics - the reader is submissive, Dawn is very dominant, and Hank is dominant over the reader but listens to Dawn/follows her rules (but not really in a submissive way??), the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, the reader character is not a virgin (the reader character is very faux innocent), under-negotiated kink - all parties have enthusiastic consent during the situation, but it is not thoroughly discussed beforehand and no safewords are in place (though Dawn and Hank obviously use queues like any signs of physical discomfort and they would not outright ignore the word ‘no’).

Dawn and Hank are very protective over the reader (it could be edging on yandere, but I don’t know how you could categorize it), mentions of alcohol - partly background, and there is a mention of Dawn drinking wine before the sex happens but it’s definitely not enough to impair her ability to consent (there is no explicit mentions of the reader character drinking alcohol), mentions of porn/watching porn, Dawn teaches the reader character how to perform a blowjob using a banana, (though it is heavily implied that the reader is more experienced than she lets on and is just playing innocent), innocence kink/corruption kink (kind of?), the world ‘little’ is used to describe the reader or her clothing, but it is not meant to imply that the reader is thin/skinny - it is meant to say that her clothing is too small for her (revealing a lot of skin), or it’s simply an expression, the reader is referred to as ‘sweetheart’, ‘sweetie’, ‘brat’, ‘good girl’, ‘honey’, ‘doll’, ‘naughty girl’, ‘slut’, ‘whore’, hair-pulling (Hank and Dawn pulling the reader’s hair), Daddy kink (towards Hank), the reader gives Hank a blow-job, size kink - mentions of Hank’s cock being massive and how his general body/frame is very big (no mentions of the reader being skinny/dainty), slight sweat kink, spit kink, mentions of ball worship (as a fantasy - doesn’t actually take place during the fic), finger sucking, leg humping, orgasm restriction (put on the reader by Dawn), I believe that is everything. This is generally just filthy smutty fun lmao.

A/N: This was originally supposed to be much shorter, and the cut off for blurbs vs oneshots officially in my mind is 5k. So this is a full oneshot fic and not just a blurb lmao. Blame Star she causes me to get carried away. Often. (It makes really great fanfiction though.)

For reference, this takes place during the period of time when Dawn and Hank had parted from the other Titans (after Garth’s death) and they were living in DC, before Dick and Rachel showed up there looking for help.

Also - the situation here is really similar to a scene in this fic and it’s completely by coincidence (I guess these are just my bisexual thoughts lmao) but I love the difference in the context and the energy of both of these fics even though the actual situation playing out is every similar. I guess it just goes to show - you can write the same prompt/situation for fics a dozen times, and it will come out different every single time.

…

When you first moved into the building, you never imagined yourself becoming so close with people like Dawn and Hank.

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have been incredibly close with two people like them. They were both older than you, and didn’t really run in your social circles. An ex-college football star who had fallen a long way from his glory days, seemingly humbled a lot since then - who now picked up a lot of odd jobs, mostly of the handyman variety to fill his time. And a woman who could have easily been mistaken for a prissy primadonna on the outside, someone who was kind and down to earth, who filled her days teaching interpretive dance to combat grief at the local youth center.

You were a young woman, unsure and still forming a life for yourself as you shaped out how your twenties, and likely the rest of your life, were going to be. You were surprised when a fantastic job opportunity at a tech firm in DC made itself available. Seeing as you had recently graduated with the exact degree that the company had been looking for, you seized the opportunity to move states just to chase after such a prestigious job.

You had no idea how isolating it would be, being in a brand new city where you didn’t know anyone else, your family so far away. You had no sense of attachment, moving into a new home in a random apartment building just so you could start a real career for yourself.

It was only because of the kindness of those two people (who were random strangers to you at the time) that you didn’t feel completely lost living in that big, new, scary city.

Your friendship with them had started out because on the day you had moved in, Hank found you lugging your heavy boxes up the stairs when the elevator was out of service and - being the kind of guy he was - he couldn’t resist the urge to swoop in and help.

When you first saw him, you were slightly intimidated by his size. The fact that he was towering over six feet tall and built like a brick house of muscle did set off some alarms when he first approached you. But when he chuckled and made a joke about a teddy bear that had fallen out of one of your boxes, saying how ‘the poor little guy’ had fallen onto the floor, you knew instantly that Hank and that bear weren’t that different. They were both soft and cuddly and full of fluff on the inside.

It made you feel even safer when his girlfriend - a beautiful blonde woman came along - introducing herself to you with a gleaming smile. It was nice to know that someone with a calming presence like her would also be living across the hall from you. She helped to carry some of your boxes, even though you insisted that neither of them had to. All the while, Dawn nagged Hank, warning him that a previous ‘sports injury’ was going to flare up if he kept straining himself.

He didn’t listen. And when he tried to lug one of your particularly hefty boxes full of books up the stairs, he popped a disc in his back and you felt so bad when he bent over groaning in pain. It made you feel incredibly guilty, even though Dawn insisted that it was his own fault.

Dawn - who was surprisingly strong for her petite stature - helped you carry the rest of the boxes and even insisted on helping you unpack some of them while Hank sat with a bag of frozen peas on his back. The new friendship was truly cemented when you made them dinner the next day and brought it over to their place. You figured it was the least you could do after all the kindness they had shown you.

You felt so guilty because Hank had injured his back trying to help you and you wanted to do something to make up for it. But you had no idea that the injury had very little to do with the box of books, and a lot more to do with the fact that he had been kicked in the back by a drug dealer the night before. But that side of their life wasn’t something that Hank and Dawn were too eager to tell you about.

On the outside, they saw you as something - someone, so young and sweet, naive and unaware of the dangers constantly surrounding you. Because of the work they did as Hawk and Dove, they saw all those ugly things in the world - gun runners, rapists, drug dealers. Things they needed to protect you from that they never wanted you to know about. You were pure and sweet, something they were eager to protect.

It was probably why they grew so incredibly close to you so quickly - that sense of protectiveness. You were only twenty three, in this brand new city all by yourself, starting out a new job with predatory eyes everywhere, unsavory people eager to take advantage of you. And they were those sacred birds eyes above, those friendly people across the hall - the only people around who truly wanted the best for you. The only people who truly wanted to protect you.

It was probably why you fell for both of them so easily.

You could feel that protective blanket they put around you, even unconsciously, and you loved it.

You fell for Dawn’s incredibly sweet nature. With her helping you and giving you tips on everything from home decoration to make-up and self care. She made you feel pretty, and doted on, and always complimented you and praised you just to see you smile.

You fell for Hank’s subtle masculinity, and those vulnerable moments he shared with you. He made you feel safe and cared for without constantly asking to be thanked for it.

You loved him being there for you to help out with small home repairs - being there to fix your sink or help you hang curtains at a moment’s notice and wanting nothing more as payment than a cold beer from the fridge or a slice of pizza. There were even times when he didn’t mind you squealing across the hall to come and kill a spider you saw in your apartment. You didn’t know it, but he liked the feeling of saving you, he liked the joy it brought to your face when he could quietly declare ‘there, all better’.

And Dawn wasn’t much better. She liked to be your rescuer in other subtle ways. If you got a stain on your favorite blouse and she could return it to you in seemingly brand new condition, the way your face lit up put the sun to shame in her mind. She often knocked on your door with coffee in the morning, claiming that it was just easier because their coffee pot made more than enough for three.

You came over in the evenings to watch TV with them because Dawn had gotten you into cheesy shows like the Bachelor. And she often tricked you into watching ‘just one more episode’ until it was into the late hours and you fell asleep on the couch. She would never tell you that it was motivated by the simple desire to enjoy your peaceful, sweet face as you slept before covering you up with a blanket and retiring off to bed.

You would never tell her how much you enjoyed those nights either.

Whenever you woke up there in the morning, you would profusely apologize. You would tell them both how sorry you were for falling asleep there and taking up too much space, for being a bother. But Dawn and Hank would never accept it. They loved having you over and truthfully - you always felt sleepy and peaceful in their presence because you felt so safe with them.

This became particularly evident one night when you came home from a date bawling. You had big black streaks of mascara running down your face when you knocked on their door. It hadn’t even occurred to turn in the direction of your own apartment. The moment they saw you in such disarray, their hearts dropped with worry. Dawn began cooing sweet comfort as she took you into her arms; Hank clenched his fist so hard with feral rage toward whoever had made you upset that he nearly crushed the TV remote in his hand.

You had made the mistake of finally accepting a nagging invitation from someone at work who had asked you out over and over again. You thought it would be harmless, and at the very least, it would get the guy off your back once he saw that the two of you had no real chemistry in practice. Once the date was over, you had let him kiss you. The horrid, entitled man had groped you. He had ignored your disgust and your attempts to push him off you. He even tried to further assault you - the only deterrent toward him had been a harsh slap you delivered that put him in shock long enough for you to walk away.

You sobbed as you delivered the story. Hank and Dawn exchanged a cold look above your head as Dawn sat beside you on the couch, holding your hand and rubbing your back in a comforting way while Hank prepared you a calming cup of tea. It was a look that only said one thing: that guy was going to be paid a visit from Hawk and Dove. They stayed with you for the night - ate some ice cream with you, cuddled up with you on the couch watching shitty reality TV while Hank assured you that ‘you’d never have to see that asshole again’. (Of course, you had no idea what he was planning on doing to deliver you that assurance).

The next night, while you were in your apartment, working on some project for work on your laptop, they went out and found the guy. Dawn had found him through your social media and yes, someone like him was way too cocky to turn off his geotags. Hank held him down and Dawn showed him your picture, making sure that he knew to stay away from you - that hurting you was the reason for his broken kneecaps.

When you went to work on Monday, he had called in sick because he had some pretty grievous injuries. The working story was that he had been hit by a car.

When you told this to Dawn and Hank, Dawn gave you a small grin and Hank grunted ‘shame’ in the most utterly sarcastic way. You thought their reaction was strange. It caused you to develop the utmost suspicion that they had something to do with it, but of course, you couldn’t prove it. And it only deepened your feelings for them in the most beautifully strange way.

From that point on, they ensured that you always had them on call. They told you over and over again that if you ever needed a safe escort home, no matter what time, if you needed to feel safe at any time of day, no matter what, you could call either of them. (And on top of that, you didn’t know that Hawk and Dove checked in on you often if you were out on the town while they were out on patrol.)

It wasn’t long before you realized that no one else would be right for you. No one else outside of those two amazing, heroic, protective, kind souls - would ever make you feel the same way they did. And you definitely had to do something about it.

…

Hank wasn’t surprised when he came home that day and you were in his kitchen.

You practically lived at their place now, and he didn’t mind it.

You were someone he had come to like a lot - even if he probably liked you a bit too much. You were sweet, kind, cute. You were incredibly gorgeous. He wasn’t exactly dealing well with the growing temptation he had surrounding you. Especially considering that he was pretty much a decade older than you and he sometimes felt like a creep when his eyes lingered too long on you. But he found that a lot of the time, he couldn’t help it if you bent over in front of him - wearing those tiny little pajama shorts or those short skirts. Sometimes you even forgot to wear bottoms under a long sleep shirt if he caught you as you were getting ready for bed.

Dawn assured him that his attractions weren’t wrong, that it was only natural for him to want someone as perfect as you. Especially because she shared all of those attractions - she had eyes, after all. And if she had a passing thought that she might like women before meeting you, it was a deep confirmation inside of her after all the hours she had spent fantasizing about making you cum.

Dawn was firm in her convictions about you - how you belonged right between her and Hank. She was just trying to get the more hesitant Hank on board.

She knew that the age difference was the biggest thing that made him worry, but she told him over and over again that it’s not like you were some jailbait, naive little thing, as much as you sometimes acted like it. Dawn saw the way you looked at him, and she knew what kind of desires you likely held that they simply needed to help you unlock.

But Hank often warred with the instinct to protect you from all corruption and harm versus the deep underlying hunger to have you beneath him, being the one to corrupt you himself. And if it wasn’t for that guilt, for his fucked up issues - Dawn believed that they would have invited you into bed by now. But Hank hadn’t grown completely comfortable with the idea yet and she wanted to take it slow.

When Hank walked over to the kitchen counter and heaved the bags of groceries up onto the center of it, he realized what was truly peculiar about the scene as he looked at you and Dawn, sitting at the kitchen table.

Dawn with a half-finished glass of wine? That was normal. You holding a half-peeled banana that appeared to be half-soggy and glossy with spit? A bit strange.

The laptop sitting in the middle of the table’s surface, paused on a graphic frame of a woman with her overly plumped glossed lips around a man’s veiny hard cock? Not so normal. And it definitely informed the presence of the banana in this scene.

If Hank wasn’t mistaken - it looked like Dawn had been teaching you how to give a blowjob using a banana. It was something that caused a harsh electric lust to shoot through Hank. Oddly enough, it only seemed like a natural extension of the nights she spent teaching you how to do your own manicures because it was cheaper and the way showed you how to get the most out of a tube of lipstick by sticking a q-tip into the bottom. It was oddly adorable to see the two of you bonding like this, and insanely hot at the same time. Like a fantasy out of a porno that Hank definitely had not been expecting to walk right into.

The entire scene had blood flowing toward Hank’s cock, and he was glad that the dining table that the two of you were sitting at was on the other side of the kitchen island. It gave him something to conceal the slight hardness in his jeans that he was hoping he could mentally will down. He didn’t want to scare you or creep you out by having an obvious boner.

At the sound of the bags slamming onto the counter, you whipped your head back to look at Hank. Your face instantly hardened with embarrassment, as though you had been caught. You reached out and slammed the lid of the laptop closed, clearly wishing that Hank hadn’t had a chance to see it. The wide eyes and slightly pouted lip you gave him were too adorable. It was like you were waiting for him to tell you it was okay or ready to run if he said that he was disgusted with you, eagerly seeking his approval.

And of course, he wanted nothing more than to give you that approval.

“I’m not gonna laugh, sweetheart.” He told you, suppressing a nervous chuckle.

“It’s alright, honey.” Dawn told you with a giggle, taking another sip of her wine. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen porn before.”

“It’s fine. I’ve seen a lot worse in my time.” He confirmed this with a nod. There were probably things in his search history that would make you gag.

“You definitely got me curious, though,” He added with a chuckle, speaking about it as though he hadn’t figured it out already.

You went uncharacteristically silent, clearly shy now that the idea of talking about sex was present in the room. Your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish struggling on dry land, and your eyes kept flickering back to Hank, clearly still looking for that approval. He felt his cock swelling with even more blood against his will.

Dawn stepped in to explain when she saw you struggling.

“Y/N asked me to help her out because she’s got a hot date tomorrow night.” She told Hank, turning completely in her seat to face him. “She said she doesn’t have a lot of experience pleasing a man.”

Dawn gave Hank a very pointed look. In that kind of silent communication that only two vigilante partners could have, two people who always needed to have each other’s backs in the most important moments - he instantly understood what she meant.

Neither of them wanted you to go out on another date. They had simply been hoping that you would give up after that last disaster with the entitled bastard. Realistically, they knew that Hawk and Dove couldn’t ‘keep an eye’ on you through all of your romantic ventures. So this was obviously Dawn’s new plan. Make things friendly - distract you. She wanted to show you that everything you ever needed or wanted was right across the hall. She wanted you to see that you didn’t need to go on a dozen dates with a dozen different grabby assholes when two of the kindest people you would ever meet were right in front of you.

Hank could easily play along.

“I don’t think you’re gonna learn much suckin’ on bananas, doll.” Hank told you with a snort. “You wanna test drive the real thing?”

He tried his hardest to sound casual, as though he had no personal interest in you ‘testing out’ your skills on him. As though it wasn’t a perfect fantasy come to life before his very eyes.

You let out a shuddering breath as his words churned through your mind.

“You don’t - you don’t mean-?” You stuttered.

Your eyes flickered from Dawn, to Hank, and then down his body toward where the counter was blocking him at the waist. As though you were willing yourself to see right through the object and suddenly had the ability to inspect what was in his pants - wondering if that part of him would be just as intimidating as the rest of his size.

The way you bit your lip, slightly shy and obviously somewhat lustful, had Hank throbbing with full hardness.

Dawn downed the rest of her wine before she answered.

“Only if you want to.” She told you, shrugging casually herself, as though it were a simple conversation about what the three of you should have for dinner. She wanted to assure you that they would absolutely respect your consent. “I’m sure that practicing on a man like him will have you ready for whatever little guys come your way.”

Hank tried not to let his ego swell with pride at the comment.

…

That was how you ended up in your current predicament - on your knees for them.

You were kneeling in front of their living room couch, with a couple of Dawn’s precious decorative pillows helping to cushion your knees from the hardness of the floor. Because in her mind, a sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to hurt yourself while doing this.

You had your hands spread out on the muscled thickness of Hank’s denim clad thighs, with his impressively monstrous cock - most definitely proportional to the rest of his massive frame - pulled out through the zipper. You had your jaw stretched wide, lovingly struggling to accommodate it while Dawn guided your pace with a hand in your hair. All the while, she gave you gentle, sweet encouragement in her harmonious voice.

“Such a good girl for us.” Dawn said gently. “Make sure you keep your tongue flat. You’re doing so good, sweetie.”

The praise sent hot jolts right between your thighs.

You almost felt small in the presence of their looming figures, with Dawn’s careful eyes staring down at you and the sheer size of Hank’s muscled form. Especially because Hank’s shoulders were spread even wider than usual. His hoodie and shirt shed off because the entire situation was just too hot for him to comprehend, causing him to sweat already (a musk you couldn’t deny made him even more attractive to you). Both his arms stretched wide over the back of the couch as he gripped at the object with his large hands, making the wood of the frame weep with just how hard he was gripping it. He was heavily resisting the urge to reach down and grab your head and simply start skull fucking you.

Dawn had given him strict instructions not to. It was one of the only reasons she was even letting this happen. She knew that Hank could get carried away sometimes and forget his own strength. It was something she was used to, and she had more than enough strength and skill that his roughness was never a manhandling of her - it was a heated competition. Dawn was afraid that (while you had voiced that you definitely weren’t a virgin) you were too fragile and inexperienced to handle all of Hank’s desires right out of the gate, lest he accidentally scare you away. So she had to censor him a bit to help you explore your own desires in a safe way.

“You don’t have to take it all the way down, honey, I know he’s big.” Dawn chuckled.

You moaned in acknowledgement of this. Hank let out a choked-off sound, both at the vibrations from your mouth at Dawn’s words.

“But make sure you swallow - it’s like a suction, it makes it better for him,” She quickly added on.

You followed the instructions, causing a sharp pulse through Hank’s whole body as he felt the suctioning of your mouth against his cock. It truly tested his self control as he deeper resisted the urge to grab you by the hair and fuck your mouth.

It was something that left him struggling - his whole body rapt with pleasure, yet every muscle practically seized and shaking as he struggled to hold back. He was nearly insane, spread out against the couch as he held onto the plush frame for dear life. With Dawn contently sitting beside him, gently guiding your tender, warm mouth up and down on the hard thickness of his cock.

The feeling of your gorgeous mouth tore harsh rippling moans from his chest, bucking breaths from his nostrils that made him sound like a raging bull. It had him biting his lips in an effort not to urge you on or say terribly filthy things that he thought might scare you or cast a true light onto his perversions. He had swallowed down the words ‘perfect slut’ and ‘suck my balls’ several times now.

Especially with the feeling of spit flowing from your mouth and down his shaft, dripping wet and warm over his balls. It only made him imagine what your sweet, soft tongue would feel like worshiping over his sack and sucking his balls into your mouth while he got to see his overwhelmingly large cock flat against your face, making your head look so tiny by comparison.

The pace Dawn had set was practically killing him. Causing a slow burn in his gut, his orgasm coming on epically slow and teasing. He knew that if he didn’t cum soon, he was going to say something drastically filthy that he was going to regret.

He certainly didn’t expect your filthy mouth to act up first.

Dawn pulled you back, giving you a moment to get some air. This left Hank’s cock bobbing in midair as he throbbed with the need for release, a large string of spit dangling from the bright red head to your swollen lips as you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the cushioning Dawn had so graciously given you. She petted a sweet, gentle touch down the side of your face, and was about to ask if you needed a drink of water before you spoke up, shell-shocking both of their systems with your next words.

“How am I doing, Daddy?” You asked, your throat absolutely raw from the fact that his cock had accidentally bumped against it.

You sounded so fucked out and so utterly filthy as you looked up at them from down on your knees - your eyes slightly glassy with tears and a gloss of spit ready to drip down your chin.

Dawn looked at Hank with her jaw dropped in shock, her cunt throbbing from your words, expectantly waiting for his reaction.

Neither you nor Dawn were prepared when Hank let out a quiet ‘jesus’, and after a moment of recovering from the shock, he simply said:

“C’mere, ya little brat,”

And then he reached out, grabbed you by the back of the hair, and shoved you back toward his cock with intense force.

You had finally broken his willpower.

He began shoving you down onto his cock with force, fucking your face with a tight grip on your hair - essentially using your mouth like a fleshlight for his pleasure. He was only slightly canting his hips up off the couch to meet the touch of your swollen lips and your warm, velvety mouth, most of the effort put into moving you around him. It was something that had you moaning wildly around him, knowing that he was finally using you for his own pleasure instead of holding back.

Though Dawn was wrought with pleasure at the sight, she couldn’t help but let out a scolding ‘Hank!’ as she reached out to grab his arm, attempting to stop him. Your lids had fallen shut in what seemed to be a haze of pleasure and your moaning was obvious, but she still held trepidation because he hadn’t explicitly asked you first. And because of the gags that emanated from your throat as the head of his large cock roughly jostled you - something that only served to turn Hank on more.

“What?” Hank snapped at her, not stopping his movements even as Dawn dug her nails into his wrist. “She likes it.”

You moaned even louder in agreement, and Dawn frowned.

“Let her tell me that herself.” Dawn ordered firmly.

‘Let me fucking cum.’ Hank wanted to argue.

But he easily understood his girlfriend’s hesitation - so he pulled you off his cock with a noisy, wet pop. You looked more fucked out than ever, your eyes now ripe with tears, a thick layer of spit gathered on your chin and ready to drip down your neck, your expression absolutely hazy with pleasure.

“I like it.” You sniffled, a pleasured whine evident in your tone. “I love it. I want you to use me. Both of you.”

That was the moment it truly struck Dawn. There was no guy - there was no date.

When you had come nervously fluttering across the hall, fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie and shyly looking at the ground when you told her you were worried about what might happen if your date wanted to go to ‘second base’ - you had been lying. It had all been a ploy to get right where you were. On your knees in front of them.

She had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t even your first blowjob. You had been taking someone the size of Hank far too well for it to be your first.

Dawn grinned at you.

“Naughty girl,” She sighed.

She reached out and ran her thumb through that pool of spit on your chin, then shoved the digit inside your mouth, forcefully pushing down on your tongue until you gagged again. It was something that made Hank moan beside her.

“You lied to us.” Dawn tutted her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You wanted this all along, didn’t you?”

You nodded furiously while sucking on her thumb, and moaned in affirmation.

“Get up.” Dawn demanded sharply.

You looked between the two of them, and then Hank let out a sigh, hesitantly letting go of his grip on your hair. He knew that it was useless to argue with Dawn.

She took her hand away from your lips, and then repeated herself.

“Go on, stand up.” She told you, an air of pure dominance coming off her that you couldn’t help but bow to. (Well in this case, stand for.)

You rose up on shaking legs, and waited for whatever instruction she would give you next. You wanted to show that you were compliant, that you would be good for them.

“Take off your pants.” Dawn told you.

You eagerly rushed to comply, ripping down the zipper of your jeans to get them off your hips and kicking them off your ankles. When you moved to rip off the waistband of your panties, Dawn stopped you.

“Leave those.” She said, her voice just as commanding and firm.

You felt both sets of their eyes now fixated on the spot between your legs as you stood there in your underwear, socks, and a thin tee shirt. The panties weren’t anything special, because honestly, you hadn’t been expecting this to lead to sex. Just a plain cotton white pair that stuck to your cunt in a very telling way. The fabric absolutely seeped with a wetness that you had been trying to ignore as you heavily enjoyed the feeling of Hank’s heavy cock on your tongue. Now, as the cool air of the room brushed against that wetness, you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs, trying to seek some kind of relief against your throbbing pussy.

“See,” Hank said, motioning toward you - toward your visibly wet panties. “The little brat obviously likes it.”

The nickname coming from him made your cunt clench so hard that it was almost painful. You let out a whimper from deep within your chest and Hank held back laughter. Dawn smirked.

Dawn nodded in acknowledgement of what Hank had said - quite obviously, you did enjoy being choked on his cock and you likely enjoyed being bossed around too. It was the discovery of something beautiful.

Then, she moved a foot across the floor, kicking away the cushions she had set down for you.

“Lying whores don’t get cushions.” She said in response to your confused look. “Back down on your knees,”

You eagerly rushed back into your position between Hank’s thighs. You really didn’t mind the hardness of the floor against your knees or the way the area rug scuffed your skin. It would only be a good reminder for later that all of this had been more than a dream.

Dawn harshly dug her nails into the back of your scalp. You were expecting her to shove you toward Hank’s cock once again, but instead, she crooked your neck back in a rather painful way, drawing your attention toward her face. And then, she scooted forward slightly on the couch, and draped her thigh over the thickness of Hank’s calf, bracketing her leg with his and shoving her leg right between yours. You let out a pathetic moan as you felt the stiffness of her lower leg shoved right up against the tenderness of your neglected cunt.

“The only way you’re gonna get off tonight is against my leg.” She explained to you, her voice still velvety sweet, yet deadly authoritative. “Understood?”

You nodded vigorously, and she tugged harshly on your hair.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” She scolded you.

“I understand.” You whimpered.

You began canting your hips toward her, rubbing your pussy against the firmness of her leg. The feeling sent pleasurable sparks through your gut, and you couldn’t help the loud moan that you let out - something that easily made Dawn smile.

“Feelin’ mean today, aren’t ya?” Hank snorted, obviously believing this to be a harsh punishment.

“You’re lucky that I’m letting her cum at all.” Dawn commented.

It became immediately obvious to you which one of them was the more lenient one. (You would be taking advantage of that in the future.)

Dawn then shoved your head back toward Hank’s throbbing cock. You eagerly opened your mouth, capturing the bulbous head between your lips and letting her shove you down until you gagged on him.

“Now make Daddy cum.” She told you.

“Jesus christ.” Hank swore. “You better not start with that shit too,” He told Dawn offhandedly. Obviously he hated how much he loved Dawn calling him that name.

She leaned over to him and pressed her lips right up against his ear.

“Don’t even pretend you hate it.”

#sundrop writes #dc titans #hank hall #dawn granger #hank hall x reader x dawn granger #hank hall x reader #dawn granger x reader #dc titans fanfiction #titans x reader #titans fanfiction

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thishazbinamistake · 9 months

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In my opinion, Loona is a character with some of the most wasted potential in Helluva Boss.

Though we don't have a ton of information about her background, we do know she lived in a shelter for much (or maybe even all) of her childhood. Loona is cold and distant to her adoptive father, and outright rude to many others, particularly Moxxie, who she constantly mocks and belittles. I'm thinking that this behavior is either a result of her upbringing, or perhaps it was even the reason she was put into the shelter to begin with. But until more is revealed about her past, I want to complain about the way she's currently written.

Loona is abusive, plain and simple. The way she treats Blitz, her adoptive father, goes way past simple angsty teenage rebellion and well into the abuse territory. Any semblance of Loona being remotely sympathetic was thrown out the window in Seeing Stars, when she kicks Blitz in the groin, all because he was relieved to see her and wanted to give her a hug. And all of that after she gives Octavia the "cut your dad some slack" speech.

I've seen people try and defend this behavior by pointing out that Loona has childhood trauma, and this is why she has these behavioral issues. It's certainly not unheard of for victims of childhood abuse/neglect to have anger issues and poor emotional regulation, and I would have absolutely no problem with this being the case if it was shown to actually be a problem, but it isn't. Not once does Loona get called out for her behavior or face any sort of consequence for treating others poorly. If anything, this abusive behavior is treated as a joke more often than not.

It's extremely ironic that one of the most despised characters in Helluva Boss, Stella, receives so much hate for being abusive towards Stolas, when we've seen Loona do far worse to Blitz. I honestly cannot think of a logical reason as to why we're supposed to like Loona, while also hating Stella. We see Stella nearly hit Stolas and it's (rightfully) treated as being abusive. But when Loona is constantly beating up her dad for no good reason, we're just supposed to laugh? It seems extremely hypocritical on both the writers' part, as well as many of the fans'. I honestly can't tell if the writers genuinely think this behavior is okay (when it's coming from Loona) or if they just see it as a quirky character trait of hers.

If we're supposed to find Loona likeable, which we clearly are, then the writers seriously need to start making some changes. I'm not saying they should just completely retcon Loona's character and suddenly make her nice, but they do need to start being consistant with how they portray abuse, and they seriously need to stop excusing and coddling her horrible behavior, regardless of if she has childhood trauma. That is not how you grow as a person and overcome your issues. Yes, it's a process that is often long and difficult, but it hasn't been shown that Loona is actually trying to make any change at all, or that anyone is actually encouraging her to change.

If you want an actually halfway decent example of a character overcoming their trauma (at least within the Hellaverse) look no further than Blitz himself. It's clear his father was abusive and explotative towards him, not to mention he accidentally caused the death of his mother and the maiming of his close friend. Both of these things likely contributed to many of Blitz's flaws and issues as an adult. But the thing is, despite all that, Blitz himself isn't abusive to his daughter. He has shown nothing but unconditional love and devotion to his daughter despite his past. I'm not saying Blitz is a perfect character by any means (I won't excuse him literally threatening to rape his employees), but it really goes to show this whole argument of 'Loona acts the way she does because she has childhood trauma and that makes it okay' doesn't hold up to scrutiny as much as her stans seem to think.

I think a good idea would be to start showing more of how Loona's behavior negatively affects those around her, something which would give her the motivation to want to change. Show how hurt Blitz feels whenever Loona lashes out at him. We get a taste of this in Spring Broken when she hurts Blitz's feelings, but it's clear from both her dialogue in the scene as well as her later actions that the writers apparently don't want her to actually learn from her mistakes and grow as a character, which is such a shame.

Loona had the opportunity to be an extremely complex and compelling character if her aggression and violent outbursts were actually addressed as being a problem she needed to overcome, and if she actually tried changing herself for the better. Seeing the effort she puts into treating others better and breaking the cycle of abuse would have made her character feel so much stronger and more likeable. But instead, the show just treats this abusive behavior as a quirky, edgy joke and "lol that's just classic Loona!! What can ya do lol!!!"

She does have her moments where a good character actually shines through, but they're so few and far in between. I want to like Loona so much, but as it currently stands, I just can't, and that makes me sad.

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #loona critical

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somethinginworl · 1 year

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He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course. Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad). Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!" –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect)

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!!

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case. But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom. Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

#I'm going to fist fight the Tumblr editor #Kine anon Ily #Kirby #Rambles #Long post

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