#HE'S THE ONLY CHARACTER WITH A DARK COUNTERPART

[possessiveandobsessive]

🚨🔥 Hot Take Alert 🔥🚨

Neve and Bellara would've been a WAY better match than Neve and Lucanis.

Neve is so patient with Bellara's dreamy, scatterbrained tendencies. She never gets frustrated or irritated even when Bellara is rambling about things that no one except her really cares to know that much detail about. She calmly calls her attention back to the matter at hand and reminds her where she is. Neve knows how to focus Bellara without killing her spark. Exactly like Bellara said Cyrian did for her.

Neve is also very grounded. She knows what she believes and what she wants and isn't afraid to tell anyone. Bellara is the opposite. She's flighty, distractable, and doesn't seem sure of herself and what she's looking for. Outside of finding the Nadas Dirthalen, she's directionless mostly. Neve is the perfect grounding counterpart that Bellara is missing.

Neve is cynical and jaded, even if Minrathous doesn't fall to the dragon. And if it does, she's colder and hardened on top of that. She needs someone who carries light and love, not someone exactly like herself. Bellara is much lighter and freer. Yes, she's had tragedy strike, she's dealt with loss and pain, but it hasn't made her cold. It's made her more caring and empathetic. She can relate to and empathize with Neve's pain, without bringing more darkness and negativity into the mix.

Plus, they get along great as friends. Neve is Bellara's only real friend it seems from my own playthroughs. Emmerich is kind to Bellara but he's a mentor. The others aren't mean to her, but she seems awkward and unable to relate to most of them. Neve goes out of her way to make Bellara comfortable. She gives her a NICKNAME.

Now, to my thoughts on Lucanis and Neve.

I can understand why the writers made the decision to have them be a couple if they are both unromanced. They have many things in common, and their banter is good and natural. HOWEVER. I think they're too alike to make each other happy in the long term. They both have a more cynical, pessimistic mindset, and wear their pain as armor. They both struggle to be vulnerable and honest about the things that hurt, the things that matter. I feel like rather than encourage growth in each other, they hold each other back from change. Lucanis won't learn to trust anyone because NEVE doesn't. Neve won't learn to have any kind of optimism because LUCANIS doesn't. Yes, they have many things in common, and I think they could realistically be good friends. As romantic partners though? I feel that they could both have so much more character development and growth if they take different paths.

I also personally don't think Lucanis is likely to develop a romantic relationship with anyone in the Veilguard outside of Rook because he's so determined to be closed off and alone, but that's a whole other rant in and of itself. (Let me know if anyone is interested 😁)

[imminent-danger-came]

How did I JUST learn about the TDP board game. Look at this shit. Dark Callum Action Deck. Dark Callum Action Deck! I could really think too hard about any of these. Especially “Dig Deep” having recently just learned about Deep Magic.

[asexual-levia-tan]

i was talkin the other day about "you only really need to read up to s2 to follow nb, not the full 4 seasons" but if NBs3 shows up like "you remember the dark crevasse?" i'll have to 100% take that back (also. "only" up to s2 as if that isnt a monumental effort in and of itself pfft)

im over here like. what if the whole reason we got the nightbringer's attention to begin with is the summoning of the dark crevasse. i think that could be fun. the dark crevasse's whole thing is that its a blackhole and whatever it consumes is essentially erased from existence entirely(?). the nightbringer's whole thing is that "time is like mud swirling in a box"

would be fun. would be fun.

[tortoisesshells]

373, & bonus:

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[lupucs]

Light World class pic ☀️

Wireframe:

Solid View:

Raw Render (without comp):

Wooo its finally done peeps! At last, here's the Deltarune Light World group render featuring Alphys's whole class! It's sort of a counterpart to my Dark World group render from a couple days ago. I also added some comp to improve the lighting and reused an old bg (some of you might remember which anim that's from hehe).

From left to right: Susie, Kris, Berdly, Noelle, Alphys, Jockington, Temmie, Catti, Monster Kid and Snowy!

These models were a ton of work to make but overall I'm really happy with how this turned out. The only light world model missing here is Rudy... I didn't know how to add him here since this was supposed to be a class pic of sorts, but maybe I'll make a designated render for him one day, since I really like his character even though he doesn't get a lot of screentime in-game. Oh, also first look at Deltarune Alphys!! Since I already made her rig for my Undertale animation, I just had to model her Deltarune clothes and bind em to the rig with an extra switch.

Anyways, feel free to use this as a wallpaper if you want!

Here's a link to the full resolution should the resolution be crushed by Tumblr.

[oakgreenoak]

Something I've always found kinda interesting about Red and Green in gameverse is how they turn some of the Stock Shōnen Protagonist/Rival tropes on their heads.

This is really long character analysis of these two and various media counterparts of theirs, so I'm gonna stick it under a cut.

In some ways they fit their roles quite well - aside from the obvious colour associations, you have Red as the hero whose sense of justice is stronger than his sense of self-preservation, and you have Green as the privileged rival who cares about beating Red above all else.

But, if you look at it another way - Green's got the light spiky hair, the hot-headed and boisterous personality, the drive to Get Better And Win. He's designed to read as really open and chipper, yet snarky. Sure, he isn't dumb, but he's arrogant, and he's got something of a one-track mind; the guy finds himself in the middle of a hostage situation because he's just that hellbent on fighting his rival, and does not seem to be thinking about anything else. He's also got a motivation - given how the Professor talks to him in the championship room and supplementary material like his Generations appearance, it's not a stretch to think the reason he's so driven to Get Better And Win is to prove himself to his grandfather. It's shown in later games and supplementary works that he's become somewhat of a mentor as he got older and wiser.

Red, on the other hand, is a quiet loner whose only motivation seems to be to get stronger for the sake of getting stronger. He's level-headed and dark haired, his cap rounding off his edges and obscuring his face. He's heroic, but not really sociable, as evidenced by the fact he spends the Johto games alone on a mountain without having told anyone where he went. He seems isolated in a way that later games' protagonists really don't. He may have always been a step behind Green, but he's always better.

Equally fascinating to me is how other adaptations have changed the base designs around and rewritten personalities to suit different purposes, while still being visually recognisable as counterparts to their game-selves.

For example: Red and Green's counterparts in Special slot WAY more neatly into their stock shōnen roles, with Red as the boisterous hero and Green as the broody rival, and it's reflected in their new designs.

Red's hair becomes spiky to reflect his more excitable nature. His hat, in turn, never obscures his face; it's always either tilted back to accommodate his fringe or turned backwards. Green's hair, on the other hand, is not quite as spiked upwards and instead falls into his face, frequently obscuring his far eye in the same way game!Red's hat does.

And then, of course, the anime balanced them in a totally different direction.

Instead of scrapping Green's personality wholecloth, it's become exaggerated in Gary. He's not the broody antihero rival, he's the arrogant, privileged, better-than-you rival. He's always ten steps ahead of Ash, always pisses him off, and is ALWAYS better until the end of his run. The anime also emphasises his intelligence far more, with him doing things like rattling off dex info and the speed of light in mph off the top of his head, to further contrast him with Ash.

Ash, who is of course THE shōnen protagonist. He's dumb, but determined, and always ready to help people in need. Unlike game!Red, the power of friendship (with more than just pokémon) is central to him; any given season of the show is defined as much if not moreso by his travelling companions and interpersonal relationships as it is by whatever he's actually doing.

It's funny to me, though, how most adaptations seem to find the fact that gameverse Red and Green have swapped some stock roles as something to fix. Even Origins, which is probably the closest a high-profile adaption has come to game-accurate, made its version of Red louder and more standard-hero-esque.

I'm not knocking any of these things, of course, just observing. I adore both Special and anipoke. I just think that the way the game characters are written could lead to some interesting dynamics were it to be explored more.

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:04」 — y.jeonghan

» seventeen menu | jeonghan menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ oni!Jeonghan × fem!Reader wc: 5.3k summary: Speed dating never was Y/N’s thing but lucky for her, she just so happened to meet someone worthwhile. He asked her on a proper date which developed into a relationship. After a regular date night, Jeonghan asks Y/N if he can try something new in the bedroom. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food/drink consumption, coffee; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to the reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this one was going to be much different but sometimes, the story writes itself. i don't have much else to say so enjoy this piece for kinktober and hbd to Jeonghan! thank you for reading! the next part is Mingyu so stick around for that! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), deepthroating (f receiving), bulge kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc), unprotected sex (use protection pls), oral (m receiving), Jeonghan has a huge d!ck, and I think I got all of it but of course, tell me if I missed any. kinks: Bulge kink + deepthroatingdialogue prompt: ❛❛ I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Dating in this day and age had always been difficult for you. 

When your friend, Voxx, first suggested speed dating, you laughed it off as a ridiculous notion, not wanting to resort to something you deemed so impersonal. Your friend reassured you that it wasn’t that bad and that they had met their partner during a speed date. 

“No, I get that,” you said as you leaned back against their couch, a glass of wine in your hand as they sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I didn’t put much stock in meeting someone on a speed date but Michael has been great and I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.”

You nodded, taking a sip from your glass. “Besides,” Voxx continued after taking a sip of their own glass. “How else do you expect to meet anyone? You never approach anyone at the bar, you hardly speak to anyone outside our friend group except for your coworkers,” they added, giving you a knowing look. You narrowed your eyes before lowering your gaze to your glass.

“You have a point.” 

Voxx smirked, taking another sip of wine. “It’s really not that bad and if you do get someone truly awful, you don’t have to worry about being stuck with them for very long,” they explained. “You only get a few minutes, maybe ten at most.” You nodded silently as you turned their words over in your head.

“Come on,” your friend whined. “You never know who you might meet!”

You sighed, looking up from your glass. “Fine,” you said when you saw the pleading look in their eyes. “I will attend but if it ends disastrously, I’m blaming you,” you added, pointing at them before downing the rest of your wine right as the timer on the oven went off, signaling dinner was ready and it was time for more wine.

Voxx promised to sign you up for the event, taking care of everything but sending the questionnaire for you to look over and fill out. You emailed it back to the event coordinator who was beyond excited that you were attending. Your friend told you they often hosted these events and was always this ecstatic.

The night of the event, you raided your closet, settling on a simple cream colored blouse with a small keyhole cut just above the bust. You paired it with a dark brown skirt, nude colored stockings, and a pair of stylish but comfortable heels in case you would be doing a lot of standing or walking. Grabbing your beige long wool coat to brave the elements, you were ready.

It was a Saturday afternoon which is why you chose to dress in the color palette you did. An evening event would have seen you in a much more extravagant cocktail dress and your red bottom heels you saved for special occasions.

You took the train into the city, getting off at the appropriate stop and making your way to the address provided by the coordinator which turned out to be a bookstore and cafe. You entered through the front door, greeting the cashier who then pointed you to the private room in the back. The main room of the coffee shop was rather large with couches, arm chairs, and tables placed throughout the shop. 

Every wall that didn’t have a window or doorway had a bookshelf lined with books, all separated by genre and organized by author name. It was very organized and tidy. You walked through the open doorway into another, smaller room with love seats, coffee tables, armchairs with a small end table between them. It was the perfect set up and away from prying eyes.

You saw that you were one of the first participants to show up and caught the eye of the coordinator. You only knew who she was because of the picture your friend had shown you. She walked over, smiling warmly at you as she approached. “You must be Y/N,” she said, holding your hand out. Up close, you noticed she had striking red eyes, pointed fangs, and her nails were unusually long and sharp.

As you took her hand, you felt her skin was cold to the touch and it dawned on you that you were now face to face with a vampire. “Uh,” you said, realizing she was waiting for you to answer. “Yes. I’m Y/N,” you replied. She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Lucia,” she said. 

You thanked her, forcing a smile as you shook hands. “We’re waiting for the rest of the participants to show up but if you’d like to go grab a coffee and browse the books, feel free. We don’t start for another twenty minutes,” she added, pulling out a pocket watch — because of course she did — to check the time. You thanked her once more, looking past her at the other people in the room.

You noticed nonhuman features, inhuman eye and hair colors but also some that looked entirely ordinary. As you walked out of the room to go up to the counter, you saw a woman sporting yellow eyes with vertical slits and bits of scaly skin peeking out from under her hairline, you realized what you’d signed up for, letting out a small groan of frustration.

You quickly composed yourself as you approached the counter and ordered a simple caramel macchiato, paying and stepping aside to pay. As you waited, you pulled out your phone, shooting a quick text to Voxx, conveying your frustration.

You: YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR A MONSTER LOVERS SPEED DATING EVENT?!

Voxx’s response was instantaneous.

Voxx: I thought you might like to give it a try since your track record with humans hasn’t exactly been that great. You: a heads up would have been nice 😒 Voxx: if I had told you it was a monster lover speed dating event beforehand, would you have still gone? You: …no Voxx: exactly. Now stop texting me, put your phone on silent and enjoy the event! (:

You grumbled to yourself as you did just that, putting your phone on silent and slipping it into your pocket as the barista called out your name, setting your coffee on the counter. With your macchiato in hand, you perused the bookshelves, finding several old novels, settling on grabbing one of your favorites, Carmilla. 

With the book in hand, you returned to the back private room, moving to sit in one of the armchairs while you waited for the rest of the participants to arrive. Among the ones you'd already seen there were a couple more newer faces.

You kept count as the room slowly filled until there were a total of 19 bodies not including the hostess. There were 10 humans including yourself and 9 humanoids ranging from demons to reptilians and you were sure there was even the odd werecreature. The numbers were uneven though, which you thought odd unless there was meant to be one person without a match each round.

You saw Lucia look around and check her pocket watch once more before getting up and moving to the front of the room. She cleared her throat before smiling, looking around at the guests.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted. “And welcome to the annual Unconventional Couple's Speed Dating Event.” A light, scattered applause rang throughout the room, soft but noticeable. 

“Each year, my partner and I host this event to help humans and non-humans come together and meet in a safe environment without the judgment of others,” Lucia explained in a clear calm voice, her warm smile ever present on her lips.

“My partner, Greg, and I met 9 years ago by sheer coincidence and it was practically love at first sight. We decided after being together for four years that we wanted to help others like us meet and potentially find their match.”

As you sipped your coffee, you listened to Lucia's speech. It wasn't as if you were uninterested in dating a monster, it just wasn't something you'd put much thought into before. 

A loud bang rang out, making you jump in your seat along with several others and you turned your head in the direction of the sound to see a tall, and rather attractive, man bent over, nursing his knee. He'd run into one of the end tables by the door upon entering.

He looked up, his paint expression melting instantly when he realized he had all eyes in the room on him. He stood up straight, grimacing as he walked further into the room. “Sorry,” he whispered, moving quickly to take the empty armchair by yours.

Several of the others sent icy glares in his direction before returning their attention back to Lucia who started to speak again, going over the rules of the event. Your attention waned as the man in the armchair next to you shifted in his seat.

“If looks could kill,” he muttered. You threw a glance his way, noticing he was staring past you. His eyes shifted, meeting yours and you knew instantly, he was not a regular man.

He had brown eyes that seemed to glow slightly which bordered on uncanny territory for you. From this close proximity, you could see that he was even more attractive than you previously thought.

He had a medium golden skin tone with reddish brown hair, strands falling into his eyes. From between strands of hair, two small dark brown horns peeked out, the tips rounded into nubs.

He wore a white button down under a caramel colored sweater with dark brown fitted pleated pants and black oxfords. Over the entire ensemble, he wore a light cream colored long coat with brown buttons and a sash that hung untied.

He nodded pointedly past you, bringing you back to reality. You turned, following his gaze to find a pair of icy blue eyes staring at the two of you before turning away to look at Lucia. You turned to look at the man once more. His gaze met yours and he smiled, giving you a wink before he turned his attention to the front of the room.

After explaining the rules, Lucia had ten participants, half the humans and half the nonhumans, sit while the remaining half would be the roaming half. It worked out that all humans sitting would be paired with nonhumans and vice versa.

You were lucky enough to be included in the group that was seated, removing your coat and draping it over your seat as Lucia passed out cards with a list of potential questions to ask. You looked over the card, chuckling to yourself at the logo. You read over the questions, rereading them a few times so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the card.

Lucia then explained you would have up to ten minutes with your date before the timer went off. You were the second to last in the rotation of human females. The first nonhuman to sit in the armchair next to you was a werewolf named Liam. He was nice enough but he had some rather interesting ideas about his ideal family that you weren’t entirely on board with.

As he got up and moved to the next station, the man from before sat down, smiling at you as he settled back in the chair. “Well, hello again,” he said softly, grinning broadly at you. “Hi,” you said holding back a chuckle as you set your almost empty macchiato down on the table.

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier,” he said. “I’m Jeonghan.” You looked up as he held out a hand. You took it, shaking his hand. “Y/N,” you replied. “So uh, tell me Jeonghan,” you started, clearing your throat and glancing at the cards.

“What color would you say best describes your personality?”

Jeonghan’s smile widened as he let out a low laugh. “Color?” he asked. “Maybe a nice deep red. Like a merlot,” he said, smirking at you. “What about you? Any color out there to let me get an idea of who you are?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Purple,” you answered quickly.

“Purple? Is that like an eggplant or —”

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Like a bright, vibrant, almost neon purple.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up as he looked you over. “Neon purple?” he asked. “You?” You nodded, holding back a smile. “You look more like a baby pink. Pastels,” he said as he straightened up. You laughed to yourself, nodding as you looked down. “You should see me at night,” you replied.

“Is that an invitation?” 

You lifted your head to look at him. His smirk had grown, looking even more mischievous as time went on. You found yourself holding his gaze. His eyes were so beautiful and there was something behind them that drew you in but you couldn’t place it. He was overall mesmerizing.

“We only have like five minutes left,” he said suddenly, drawing you from your trance. “Right, you said, glancing down at the card again. Your mind seemed to go blank whenever he opened his mouth. It was unlike you and an entirely new experience but it was one you were liking.

“What are you most passionate about?” you asked, reading from the card.

“Sex. Next,” Jeonghan answered, making you choke on your spit. He laughed as you picked up your drink and sipped, trying to quell your cough. “I’m kidding,” he added as you managed to subdue your coughing fit. “That was supposed to make you laugh. Not potentially kill you.”

You waved your hand, dismissing his concern. “I’m fine,” you gasped, setting your cup down. “I’m passionate about food,” he said as you regained your composure. “Food?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “I love food. Good food is important to me.”

“Okay,” you said, shifting in your seat to face him properly. “Your friends are coming over for dinner, what are you cooking?” you asked. Jeonghan smiled as he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. “What friends?” he joked.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said, giving in to his teasing. “Do you snore?” Jeonghan asked abruptly,” you looked up at him, alarmed. “What?” you asked. “Do you snore?” he asked again. You stared at him silently for a few minutes before answering. “Only when I’m sick,” you said, looking down at the card once more.

“Do you have any party tricks?”

Your question made Jeonghan laugh loudly. “Take me to dinner first,” he said with a wink. Your cheeks burned as you met his gaze. The line itself was enough to have you flushing but the wink just added an extra amount of cheese to it.

You glanced down once more but Jeonghan leaned forward, grabbing the card out of your hand and sat back as you looked up at him. He crumpled the card in his hand, giving you another mischievous grin. “Ask me something off the top of your head,” he said softly, cocking his head to the right.

Your mind went blank as you stared at him. Being put on the spot like this made you nervous as hell. ‘What could I possibly ask him?’ your mind went reeling as you tried to grasp for something to ask. Jeonghan checked his watch, glancing up at you. He made a soft ticking sound, as if to try and pressure you into asking a random question. One that wasn’t printed on the card.

“I am so sorry,” you said softly. “My mind is completely blank.” Jeonghan chuckled as he set the crumpled up card on the table. “That’s alright,” he said, picking up his coffee and downing the rest of it as the timer went off, signaling that 10 minutes had passed.

You felt your heart sink. You didn’t want the time with him to end. He got up and grabbed his coat before he leaned over as the participants started to move to the next station. “When the next round ends, meet me outside. This is boring as hell and you are most certainly not,” he whispered in your ear before standing up, giving you another wink with a smile before he turned and headed for the last date as your third one sat down. 

The third round wasn’t nearly as entertaining or interesting as Jeonghan had been. He was a shapeshifter named Kai and he was nice, much nicer than Liam, but he was also quite awkward. When the round finally ended, you felt relief wash over you.

Lucia stood at the front of the room, calling for everyone’s attention.

“Now that we’re finished, I’d like you to fill out the back of the card I gave you and write down the names of the participants you’d like to meet again,” she said. “And afterwards, if you’ll stick around, we have a few ice breaker games to get to know everyone a bit more.” 

You looked around as everyone flipped over their cards and started writing. You grabbed your wrinkled one and picked up the pen before writing down one name only: Jeonghan.

Looking up, you saw Jeonghan get up, walk up to Lucia and slip the card into a small box on a table next to her. You saw him briefly exchange words with her before he turned and started for the door. He met your gaze, sending you a wink before he disappeared out the doorway into the main area.

Following your instincts,” you got up and walked up to Lucia. She smiled as you slipped the card into the box. “Are you going to be staying for the ice breaker games?” she asked, sounding hopeful. You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you replied. “I actually had something come up. Family emergency.” Lucia smiled politely. “Of course,” she replied, nodding understandingly.

“Thank you again.” you added. “This was a very informative experience.” You exited the room, returning your book to the shelf and dropping your used mug off at the counter.

Once you were back outside, you looked up and down the sidewalk, hoping to see Jeonghan standing nearby but you didn’t see him anywhere. You felt your heart sink, wondering if you’d taken too long as you continued to look around.

You walked towards the edge of the sidewalk, looking on the opposite side to see if maybe Jeonghan had crossed over. You were getting more and more dejected as you didn’t see him anywhere. You sighed, hoping that Lucia would at least be able to pair you up as you turned and started down the street towards the bus station.

“There you are,” a voice said from behind you. Turning, you saw Jeonghan walking out of the coffee shop and waited as he jogged lightly to catch up. “Thought you had taken off,” he said as he matched your pace, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. You smiled as you walked along. “I thought the same actually,” you said, making him chuckle.

You walked in silence for a few minutes until he skipped ahead, moving to stand in front of you just as you reached the bus stop. “Alright,” he started. “So, I’m sure you wrote my name down. I wrote yours down and only yours,” he added. “So how about we skip the middle and I take you out tonight?” he asked.

Your heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across your face. “Okay,” you said softly, feeling suddenly shy. Jeonghan snorted. “Well, jeez,” he started jokingly. “Don’t go jumping for joy. Wouldn’t want you to die from excitement.” You laughed, playfully swatting at him. “I’d love to,” you replied.

Jeonghan smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Then let’s not wait for Lucia to do her thing,” he said, unlocking the screen and tapping away. “We can just exchange numbers now.” You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up a new contact as Jeonghan held out his phone. You exchanged with him, typing in your name and number, adding a purple heart emoji.

When you had your phone back in your hands, you read his contact card. His name had the red ogre emoji next to it with the sunglasses smiley face. You shot him a quick text before pocketing your phone. “So what time were you thinking?” you asked, looking up at him as he checked his phone before slipping it back into his coat pocket.

“How about seven?” he asked. “And if you don’t want me to know where you live, let’s just meet there, yeah?” he asked. You nodded. “Meet where?” you asked. Jeonghan nodded towards your pocket. “I sent you the address. It’s a restaurant I love and I’d like to actually share it with someone.”

You pulled out your phone, looking at the notification. You would look it up later to make sure it was actually a restaurant. You trusted that Lucia would vet all the participants pretty well but you could never be too certain. “So, I’ll see you at seven?” he asked as the bus pulled to the stop.

You pulled out your bus pass as the doors opened, several passengers getting off. “Seven,” you agreed, looking back at him with a smile before getting onto the bus, scanning your pass and taking a seat. You waved at him as he stood on the sidewalk. He waved back, smiling as the bus started to roll forward and soon he was out of view as the bus continued down the street.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and fished it out, checking your messages.

Jeonghan👹😎: you’re really pretty (:

You chuckled as you typed a response back.

You: so are you ;)

Jeonghan’s reply was instant.

Jeonghan👹😎: see you at seven, beautiful

One date with Jeonghan turned into two which turned into a third and after a few weeks, you were dating pretty regularly. Lucia had contacted the both of you a few days after the speed dating event to inform you that you had both selected each other and she passed on your contact details but you already had exchanged them.

Your regular dates turned into something romantic and sexual after a couple months and by the third month, you had agreed to be exclusive. You really liked Jeonghan. He was smart, funny, charming, and a little bit annoying but you liked his teasing.

On the surface, he liked to joke around, tease, and play pranks but under that silly exterior was an extremely caring, loving, and passionate person. You learned on the fourth or fifth date that Jeonghan was an oni. You knew from the start that he wasn’t human but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, it made him much more alluring and added to his appeal.

You’d never truly considered dating any monsters before but now that you had, you were certain you probably wouldn’t ever date human men again. Your past with dating had been turbulent and rocky to say the least but ever since meeting Jeonghan, things had been so much easier. Your relationship with him seemed to come naturally to the both of you.

In the bedroom, things were beyond amazing. Jeonghan was neither pushy or hasty to make you do anything you didn’t want to. Sex with him was as easy as breathing. All you needed to get into the mood was some playful banter, a few light touches, and some whispered dirty words and you were putty in his hands. He was a skilled lover and you were never left unsatisfied.

After a date night out, you returned to your apartment, inviting Jeonghan in for a moment which you knew would turn into more if you played your cards right. 

“I’m never ordering that again,” Jeonghan said as you giggled, letting him into your apartment as you stood in the doorway. Once the door was shut, you moved to set your purse on the kitchen counter, fishing out your wallet and phone as Jeonghan walked up behind you. You felt his hands on your waist as he pressed into your backside.

“I like this dress on you,” he murmured, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder. “Yeah?” you asked softly, leaning back against him. He hummed in response, pressing a few kisses to your shoulder before you turned around in his hold, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. “I think the only thing that would be better is if you took it off,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer as your lips parted, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, pulling them flush against his. Pulling back slightly, you smirked as he tried to chase your lips. “Maybe you should take it off,” you whispered, nuzzling his nose. Jeonghan let out a groan, sliding his hand down to cup your ass before moving to pull your thigh up, pressing his clothed crotch into you.

“Bedroom,” he muttered, peppering kisses along your jaw. “Now.”

You did as he demanded, heading for the bedroom with him on your heels. Once inside, you heard the soft click of the door shutting as you turned on the bedside lamps. Jeonghan was on you in an instant, pulling at your dress, kissing your neck, littering your skin with love bites as he guided you towards the bed. “I’d like to try something new tonight,” he whispered between kisses.

His hands unzipped the side of your dress, hands moving up to slide the straps of your dress down your arms and letting the garment fall to the floor at your feet, leaving you in your lingerie and heels. “What’s that?” you asked as you stepped out of your dress, kicking it across the wood floor.

Jeonghan cupped the side of your neck just under your jaw. “Climb onto the bed,” he said softly. You glanced down at your feet. “My heels,” you started. Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Shit, right. Let me handle that.” he said, kneeling down to quickly remove your shoes one at a time. He tossed them aside, ignoring the clatter they made as they bounced across the wood.

“Now, sit on the bed,” he said, gently nudging you. You followed his instruction, sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking up at him as you waited for further instruction. Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips and cupping your cheek.

“You know I absolutely love it when you use your mouth,” he started softly. “And I love the way you do it but I’ve really wanted to fuck your mouth for a while now,” he continued. “I’d really like to try it, if you’ll let me.” You nodded, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand over your face and kissing his palm. “And I promise to reward you,” he added. “Of course,” you answered. “I love trying out new things with you.”

Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Standing up straight he pulled his tie loose, discarding it on the floor before undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, keeping his eyes on you. He dropped the shirt to the floor, moving his hands to undo the zipper of his pants.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to grab him by the waistband of his pants.

You made quick work of his pants and underwear, pushing them down his thighs, revealing his already hard and leaking cock. You took him in your hand, opening your lips and taking the head into your mouth. Jeonghan let out a throaty groan, one hand moving to the back of your head.

You moved your head, bobbing and taking more and more of his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip hit the back of your throat as he thrust slightly, making a wet gagging sound. You pulled back, waiting a moment before resuming. 

You felt his grip on your head tighten as he pushed you further down. “Just a little more,” he groaned. “I know you can do it, sweetheart.” You obliged him, sinking his cock further into your mouth until you felt the head push into your throat. Jeonghan let out a loud moan, throwing his head back.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” he groaned, swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. He let out a shaky breath, lowering his gaze to look down at you. The hand on the back of your head moved up to the top, slightly tilting your head back. More of his cock sank into your throat at this angle.

He let out another strained moan as he felt your throat constrict around his cock. He moved his other hand down to your throat, fingers feeling the bulge of his cock in your throat. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “That’s so fucking hot.” He wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing slightly.

After a moment, he pushed your head back slowly, his cock slipping out of your throat.

Once freed, you pulled back, gasping as air filled your lungs. “You alright, baby?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek. You nodded, coughing slightly. “You okay to keep going?” he asked, his voice sounded full of concern. Again, you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “M’Okay.” 

Regardless, Jeonghan gave you a few moments to recover your breath before letting you continue. “If you need to stop, just tap my thigh, okay?” he asked. You nodded, taking his cock in your hand, you stroked him quickly before taking the head back in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy against your tongue.

Jeonghan’s hips thrusted forward, burying his cock further into your mouth. You removed your hand, moving your hands to his hips as he set a slow, steady pace. You kept your jaw lax, letting him fuck your mouth at his own pace. Each thrust made that same wet gagging sound at the back of your throat, filling the room with nothing but that sound.

His fingers curled into your hair, tightening his grip on your head as he guided you to move into his thrusts. “Fuck,” he groaned. “M’close.” He slowed to a stop, pulling his cock from your mouth. “Up,” Jeonghan ordered, holding his hand out for you to take. He pulled you up onto your feet before turning you to face the bed, pushing you onto it. He removed his pants quickly before cupping your sex.

“Holy shit,” he groaned. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet?” he asked. You whined, wiggling your hips. “Don’t tease me, Hannie.” He chuckled, moving to pull your panties down your thighs. “God, look how fucking wet you are. Fucking soaked,” he growled, fingers swiping through your folds before sinking into your cunt. You let out a moan as he slowly curled his fingers.

“Please, Jeonghan,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

You heard him chuckle as he removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and cleaning them. “You sure you’re ready for me, angel?” You nodded eagerly. “Please,” you whined. “Please. I can take it.”

Jeonghan chuckled again, grabbing the base of his cock and gliding the tip between your folds, gathering your arousal before pushing the head into your slit, the warmth of your cunt welcoming him as he glided in, unrestricted. Each inch filled your walls, stretching you slowly to accommodate his size. “F-fuck,” you gasped as he bottomed out, tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

“So f-full,” you groaned. Jeonghan gave you a harsh thrust, making you cry out sharply. “You really sure you’re ready, my love?” Jeonghan asked, moving his hands to your hips. You nodded once more. “Yes,” you whined, feeling him retract slowly. “Please just fuck m-me!” you gasped as he snapped his hips forward, filling you in one, sharp thrust.

“Oh I plan to,” Jeonghan said softly. “You might wanna hold on, sweetheart,” he added.

“You’re in for a long night.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" I'd usually describe this as a super exclusive entry, but who am I kidding? If you've spent more than five minutes in this school, you've already seen his shadows lurking around in the background at some point (I mean, he's like. super tall.) "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver

Design notes:

Man I've been postponing this for so long, I don't even remember half of what my process with this one was like. But I concluded that if I don't post this now, the loss of my mental notes will only get worse with time, so here you go, putting this out there once and for all lol

For a general picture I wanted Malleus' vibes to be more fairy tale-like. (He ended up reminding me a bit of Faybelle too, in a way.) The colors of those iridescent black feathers go well with him, I think. And did someone mention Howl's moving castle? Yeah, Howl's monster form.

I got this one ask before, reccomending the Cockatrice monster for Malleus, and searching a bit about it, is apparently also often taken as a synonymous with the basilisk? So like, Wyvern meets Basilisk, but it is also giving fae, idk. Listen, the idea inside my head is like, if you're asked to imagine a mythical creature that roams around a dark forest, outside the castle of a cursed princess, it's him. He's the creature.

And I'll admit I have not been catching up with the Diasomnia's chapter :( so give me 50 years at least so I can make up some more in-depth lore for his MH au counterpart (or maybe I'll just read a resume out of the wiki). Malleus enjoyers are free to drop headcanons onto him, you guys' knowledge of his character are always so astronomical it never fails to impress me /gen

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(pt.1/3)

PART 2 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!

The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it. 

He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.

Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n. 

He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips... 

You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing… 

"You know, Brahms?” 

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better. 

“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house." 

You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.

The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room. 

Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.

You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh. 

The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.

He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright. 

As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside. 

You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep? 

He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.

Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you. 

“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”

The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs. 

It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could… 

Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers. 

He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy. 

The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic. 

Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time. 

He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself. 

He had to make sure you were asleep first.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[A.N: let me know if you would like to read part 2 of this...]

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

[beansprean]

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

One day in January I thought, "wouldn't it be hilarious if there was an episode where the camera crew changes places with a crew filming a documentary on werewolves in california. and everyone is playing a werewolf counterpart version of their character?" And it all devolved from there. Ty to @vampireshmampire and @memosminifridge for riffing with me and coming up with hilarious ideas <3

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Title card, close up on a full moon glowing blue, surrounded by swirls of fog and bands of purple, blue, and green light. Overlaid is tht title "What We Do Under The Moon" in the What We Do In The Shadows font, letters dark blue with a brighter blue to purple gradient at the bottom, backlit in white.

2. Wide shot of the werewolf character played by Kayvan Novak doing a talking head. He is wearing medium wash jeans, a grey tee shirt over a millennial pink vest, a small gold medallion around his neck with a matching crescent moon earring, and has his long wavy hair half up in a messy bun. He is sitting on a light cream L-shaped couch adjacent to a glass patio door letting in the sunlight and below a wall hanging that says 'live, laugh, lick'. The lower third identifies him as "Navid - beta werewolf". Navid leans back casually against the cushions and props one elbow up on the back of the couch, leaning his head into that hand, and says, "If I am to establish myself as the Alpha of the pack over Lionel and Niki, I must find a mate. Someone strong, powerful, and...nearby. In the same house even, if possible." As he speaks, he glances meaningfully to his left, where the character played by Harvey Guillen is standing behind the couch, his back to Navid as he fusses with a vacuum. He is wearing square retro glasses, airpods in both ears, brown chinos, and a short sleeved green button up unbuttoned to the sternum with a dog silhouette pattern and sleeves rolled up his biceps. His beard is well-kept stubble and hair is buzzed short on the sides, curls pushed to the side in artful disarray and sun-bleached a lighter brown.

3a. Close up on Harvey's character as he walks down the hall away from Navid's talking head. In the background, Navid whips around to lean over the back of the couch with an expectant grin, howling, "Gerardo!! Eavesdropping again? Do you have anything to add to this topic?" Gerardo barely pays him mind, tossing his reply over his shoulder: "No, sir. Seems like a werewolf-only interview. I'm going to go vacuum the alpha den, they've been shedding." 3b. Waist-up of Gerardo standing with his arms crossed, doing a talking head. The lower third reads "Gerardo Cordero de Luna, werewolf familiar (familiar is crossed out) apprentice." Gerardo says haughtily, "I am not a familiar! Only witches and vampires pull that nonsense. I'm an apprentice, and I'm part of the pack." 3c. Repeat. Offscreen, one of the crew asks, "And what does a werewolf apprentice do?" Gerardo goes a bit red, embarrassed, and glares off to the side, hesitating to answer.

The following are all cropped close ups on a mottled orange and yellow background from a colored doodle dump. 4. Waist up of Gerardo and Navid as Navid begs, hands laced together, "Gerardo, won't you let me bite you?" Gerardo avoids his gaze with a nervous grin, flapping his hand dismissively, and replies, "Ehh...not yet! There's still plenty for me to learn about being a werewolf! I've only been apprenticed what, 3 years?" "Almost 15!" Navid shoots back.

5a. Knees up of Navid and Natasia Demetriou's werewolf character, Niki. She is wearing dark red gradient high waisted leggings, a dark red low cut bralette with crossed straps in front, a fluffy cropped brown fur coat, a gold medallion matching Navid's, and multiple golden piercings in her ears with two large oval discs dangling from the lobes. Her lipstick and square cut nails are dark red, and her long hair is permed in tight fluffy curls half up in twin buns. Navid grabs his left wrist with his right hand and thrusts it at Niki's face with an anxious expression, asking, "I smell like I love him, right??" Niki curls her lip and cringes away from him, hands up to swat his arm away as she spits back, "Ugh, yes!! You stink up the whole house with your pining! There's no way he can't smell it." 5b. Knees up of Gerardo sitting on a light cream couch, reading from a book titled "Care for the Lonely Werewolf" help up in his right hand. Navid is laying across the couch, sans vest and hair loose, with his head resting on Gerardo's left thigh. His right hand is trapped beneath him, fingers hooked at the back of Gerardo's knee, and his left rests on top beneath his cheek. Gerardo's left hand his idly petting his hair. Navid stares intently into the middle distance, thinking, 'Perhaps I should be less aloof with him...'

6a. Bust of Gerardo, who is holding up an iPad in his left hand with a drawing stylus poised in his right. Navid, large and hairy in werewolf form but still sporting his dangly earring and little hair bun, is hugging him from behind, clawed hands on his shoulders and wet nose nuzzling into the side of his face. Navid's eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open, tongue lolling out happily. Gerardo looks up at him with a fond, if confused, smile. 6b. Knees up of Navid raising a triumphant fist with a grin and confidently declaring, "He is playing hard to get, but he underestimates how hard I am to get rid of!"

7a. Waist up of Matt Berry's werewolf character, Lionel, who looks much the same but is casual in a light cream linen shirt unbuttoned well below his sternum tucked into matching linen pants, his only accessory the gold medallion matching the others'. He is standing in front of a countertop hosting a box of Thin Mints and cringes away with a drawn-out whine as Gerardo pops into frame to spray him with water, scolding, "No, bad Lionel!" 7b. Waist up of Mark Proksch's character, who appears to just be Colin Robinson dressed like Indiana Jones, as he walks into frame with a rolling suitcase. He smiles and waves, shouting, "Howdy, guys!!" Lionel stands in the background, hands on hips with an easy smile, and says. "Oh, look, it's our landlord Arthur Simon Santiago who lives such an interesting life in New York City and uses this condo as a vacation home!"

8. Group shot, knees up, of Lionel, Niki, Gerardo, and Navid smiling for the camera. Lionel has one hand on his hip and the other around his wife's waist, leaning into her. Niki has one arm thrown around Lionel's shoulders, flashing a peace sign, and the other held up behind Navid's head to give him bunny ears. Gerardo is standing slightly in front of her, one hand clutching a pamphlet for Tisch School of the Arts and looking a bit uncomfortable as if he had been dragged into the photo last minute. Still, he offers the camera a hesitant smile and allows his left arm to be crushed to Navid's chest as the werewolf pulls him close with an arm around his shoulders. Navid leans his entire body into Gerardo with a huge grin, flashing a peace sign with his free hand.

9. Uncropped version of the entire doodle dump, repeating images 4 through 8. /end ID

[sherewrytes]

Half crazy, Toji x reader

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

summary. You were always told by your family to stay out of trouble, get your degree, get a good job, and live a good life. Simple rules to follow. You somehow caught the eye of probably the most problematic person in your university but why did it intrigue you to find out more about him.

Toji Zenin/Fushiguro saw you for the first time strolling past him and his friends in front of the university's library. Something about you drew him in. He never saw someone like you before, focused, poised and dedicated to their degree. Always in the library or hanging out with friends, not really partying much. He wondered when curiosity would get the better of him to approach you, but he knew the life he lived would be too problematic for someone as sweet as you.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, dark romance,

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45

Previous Next

Chapter: Racing Shadows

The streets buzzed with tension as the underground scene reached fever pitch. The scent of rubber and gasoline hung in the air, mixing with the hum of engines revving and the low chatter of spectators. It wasn’t just any race night—tonight, the stakes were higher, and reputations were on the line. Toji Zenin’s crew was about to go head-to-head with Hiromi Higuruma’s squad, a rising force on the circuit.

Toji stood by his black 1979 Dodge Charger, white neon lights flickering beneath it. The beast was all muscle, just like the man himself. Tattoos snaked down Toji’s arms, and his eyes were fixed on the crowd. Somewhere out there, Y/n was watching. He’d spotted her earlier, and his jaw had tightened, though he’d tried to play it off. He wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the crew or, worse, Hiromi.

Hiromi Higuruma stepped out of his blood-red Ferrari F12 Berlinetta, a confident smirk playing on his lips. His ride was a monster, all sleek curves and roaring power, but Hiromi was the real threat tonight. The man exuded arrogance, as if every win was already guaranteed. Dressed sharp as always, Hiromi’s eyes landed on Toji, narrowing as he walked over.

“Zenin,” Hiromi’s voice dripped with disdain. “You ready to finally lose that rust bucket? Or are we going to pretend you’re still the king of the streets?”

Toji exhaled smoke from his cigarette, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “ Rust bucket, are you a fucking 5 year old, try harder with the insults. We’ll see who’s still standing by the end of the night, Higuruma. You sure you can handle it?”

Hiromi chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his voice low and taunting. “Handle it? Please. I’ve been handling everything—money, cars... women.” He paused, locking eyes with Toji. “Though, from what I hear, you’ve been slacking on that last part. You got eyes for one girl, but I haven’t seen you make a move. What’s the matter, Zenin? Can’t close the deal?”

Toji’s jaw clenched. Y/n had been the only one he cared to look at, but Hiromi’s words hit a nerve, one he didn’t want exposed in front of the crew. Sukuna, leaning against his blood-red Chevy Camaro, shot a glance at Toji, sensing the rising tension.

Hiromi kept going, his voice louder now, trying to rile Toji up. “What’s wrong? You’re afraid? Because the way I see it, all you do is stare. No approach, no talk. Is that your game now? Losing it with cars, losing it with women?”

Toji’s cigarette dropped from his lips, his fists tightening. Before anyone could blink, he was inches from Hiromi, nostrils flaring. “Watch your mouth, Higuruma, or I’ll shut it for you right here.”

The crowd quieted, eyes widening as the tension crackled between the two racers. Gojo, ever the joker, stepped forward with a grin. “Relax, Toji. Hiromi’s just bitter ‘cause he thinks he’s hot, but no one actually wants him.”

Hiromi’s eyes flicked to Gojo, but he wasn’t backing down from Toji. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit a nerve? Seems like your boy over here just confirmed it. Maybe after I take your car tonight, I’ll take the girl too.”

Toji lunged, grabbing Hiromi by the collar, ready to throw a punch. The crew moved fast—Geto, Sukuna, and Gojo pulling Toji back while Panda and Nanami stepped in to hold Hiromi. The energy was electric, and it felt like a fight was moments away from breaking out.

“Save it for the track!” Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re here to race, not brawl.”

Hiromi straightened his shirt, his smirk never faltering. “Yeah, Zenin, listen to your crew. You’d need them after I beat you anyway.”

Toji glared, seething. “You want to raise the stakes, Hiromi? Fine. Pink slips.”

The crowd gasped. This wasn’t just a race anymore—it was a declaration of war. Racing for pink slips meant losing your car if you didn’t win, and with cars as custom and expensive as these, that was everything.

Hiromi’s grin grew wider. “Now we’re talking. But just so you know, Zenin, after I win your car, I’ll put it to good use. Probably better than you ever could.”

Toji’s smile was sharp, dangerous. “You better pray you’re fast enough.”

Hiromi leaned in. “Always am.”

Race 1: Gojo Satoru vs. Kento Nanami

The first race was Gojo against Nanami, and the tension was palpable. Gojo, all smiles, pulled his baby blue Mazda RX-8 to the start line. His white hair practically glowed under the streetlights, and he shot Nanami a playful wink. “You ready to get smoked, Nami?”

Nanami, leaning against his sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo S, didn’t even respond. He was all business, adjusting his sleeves and climbing into the driver’s seat without a word. His car was a silent killer—sleek, powerful, and devastatingly fast.

As the light flashed green, both cars roared to life. Gojo’s Mazda took off like a rocket, zipping around the first corner with ease. His grin widened as he weaved through traffic, laughing to himself. But Nanami was calm, composed, and relentless. His Porsche moved like a panther stalking its prey, never too far behind, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Gojo’s hands moved fluidly, switching gears, his confidence unshakable. But on the final straight, Nanami closed the gap, his Porsche’s power surging forward. It was neck and neck as they approached the finish line, but Gojo’s laugh echoed as he barely edged out the win.

“Close one, Nami!” Gojo called, leaning out his window, though Nanami’s stoic expression didn’t falter.

Race 2: Suguru Geto vs. Toge Inumaki

Next up was Geto versus Inumaki. Geto slid into his yellow and black Nissan Primera GT, the green neon lights casting a ghostly glow beneath the car. Inumaki, his face tattoos glowing under the streetlights, pulled up in his dark green Mitsubishi Eclipse, the car’s wide body kit giving it an aggressive edge.

Inumaki’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes focused ahead. He was new to the scene, but everyone knew he had potential. The light flicked green, and Geto’s Primera shot forward, the engine howling as he took an early lead.

Inumaki followed closely, his Eclipse cornering sharply, though Geto’s experience gave him the edge. Inumaki’s focus was fierce, his tattoos and piercings giving him an intimidating look as he raced, but Geto was smooth, taking corners like a dancer, always a step ahead.

In the end, Geto crossed the finish line first, but Inumaki wasn’t far behind. “Not bad, kid,” Geto smirked as he pulled up next to him, and Inumaki nodded, his face unreadable.

Race 3: Sukuna Ryomen vs. Panda

Sukuna was up next, and his blood-red Chevy Camaro looked like a beast ready to devour the streets. Across from him, Panda, with his massive build and double-sleeved tattoos, slid into his blacked-out Dodge Challenger. Gold cuffs glinted on his wrists as he revved the engine, the roar echoing through the lot.

Sukuna grinned. “Let’s see what the new guy’s got.”

The race began with a thunderous start, Sukuna’s Camaro exploding off the line with raw power. But Panda’s Challenger wasn’t far behind, the massive car barreling forward with surprising speed. Panda’s calm demeanor didn’t match the intensity of his car, but his control was impeccable.

Sukuna’s grin widened as he pushed the Camaro to its limits, weaving through the course with reckless abandon. Panda followed, his Challenger staying close, but Sukuna’s experience won out. As they crossed the finish line, Sukuna let out a whoop of victory.

“Not bad, big guy,” Sukuna called out. Panda, ever the silent type, simply nodded.

Race 4: Toji Zenin vs. Hiromi Higuruma

Finally, it was time for the main event: Toji versus Hiromi. Toji stepped into his black Dodge Charger, the white neon lights flickering ominously beneath it. Hiromi, across from him, sat in his Ferrari F12, its blood-red body gleaming under the streetlights.

Toji’s face was set, jaw clenched as he revved the engine. This wasn’t just about the race anymore—it was personal. Hiromi had thrown too many insults, and Toji wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

Hiromi’s smirk hadn’t faltered. “Better say goodbye to that Charger, Zenin. It’ll look better in my garage.”

“Keep dreaming,” Toji growled.

The light flashed green, and both cars roared to life. The race was on.

The moment the light flashed green, the sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the night air. Toji’s Charger took off like a bullet, but Hiromi’s Ferrari was right on his tail,

a sleek red blur chasing the massive black muscle car through the neon-lit streets. Both cars thundered down the highway, weaving through the urban landscape at breakneck speeds.

Toji gripped the wheel, his hands steady, eyes razor-focused on the road ahead. The raw power of his Charger reverberated through his body, the engine growling as he pushed it harder.

This wasn’t just about racing anymore; this was about showing Hiromi, the crew, and especially Y/n, that no one could touch him—not on the streets, not anywhere.

Hiromi, in his Ferrari, was grinning like a madman. His sleek, custom-built machine cut through the air with a deadly precision, roaring behind Toji.

Hiromi’s confidence was palpable as he drew closer to Toji, pushing the Ferrari to its limits. He flicked his eyes to the side mirror, watching Toji's Charger devour the road ahead.

"You’re slipping, Zenin!" Hiromi shouted through his open window, his voice taunting, carried by the rush of wind. "You drive like you fight—sloppy and slow!"

Toji didn’t take the bait, but the fury in his chest burned hotter. He pushed his Charger even harder, the custom-built engine roaring with every shift of the gears. His knuckles whitened on the wheel, his jaw locked in determination.

Hiromi swerved up alongside Toji, their cars nearly kissing as they raced through a tight alley. The Ferrari’s sleek frame allowed it to glide with ease, but Toji’s Charger was a beast, chewing up the pavement as he powered through the turns. Hiromi’s laughter echoed across the alley as he pulled ahead slightly, his red Ferrari glinting under the streetlights.

"Guess I’ll be taking that Charger home tonight," Hiromi mocked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Maybe I’ll even take the girl too. She deserves a real man."

Toji’s teeth ground together. His muscles tightened as Hiromi’s words fueled his fire. Y/n flashed in his mind, her eyes on him earlier tonight. She’d watched him, and in that moment, Toji knew he couldn’t lose. Not to this prick.

Without warning, Toji slammed his foot on the accelerator, the Charger’s powerful engine snarling as he surged forward. The gap between their cars closed in an instant, and Hiromi’s smirk vanished, replaced with shock as Toji pulled ahead.

"You’re not taking anything, Hiromi," Toji growled, eyes locked on the road as he took a sharp corner, his Charger sliding sideways with precision, drifting flawlessly. The tires screeched against the asphalt, sending sparks flying into the night air.

Hiromi’s Ferrari struggled to follow Toji’s aggressive moves, and for the first time in the race, doubt flickered in his eyes. Toji’s car was a monster, devouring every turn, every straightaway, with ferocious speed.

From the sidelines, the crowd roared in approval, the energy electric. Gojo, Sukuna, and Geto watched intently, knowing this race was more than just about cars—it was about pride, respect, and dominance.

"Toji’s got this," Gojo smirked, leaning against his RX-8, arms crossed. "Hiromi’s not ready."

Sukuna exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes following Toji’s Charger as it surged ahead. "He better be. That Ferrari’s not playing around."

Back on the road, Toji took another sharp corner, the Charger roaring as it bolted down the final straightaway. Hiromi, desperate, pushed the Ferrari to its absolute limit, trying to catch up, but it wasn’t enough. Toji’s skill, his raw determination, and the power of his custom Charger were too much.

As the finish line approached, the crowd leaned in, holding their breath. The neon lights from both cars flashed as they tore through the final stretch, but it was Toji’s Charger that crossed first, Hiromi’s Ferrari trailing behind by mere inches.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Toji let out a breath, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he slowed his car, pulling it to a stop. Hiromi skidded to a halt beside him, fury etched across his face.

Toji climbed out of his Charger, his expression cool and composed. Hiromi, on the other hand, slammed his door shut, his pride in tatters. The tension between them hadn’t diminished, and it was clear that things were far from over.

"You got lucky, Zenin," Hiromi sneered, stepping closer to Toji. "Next time, I’ll bury you. And we race for pink slips again—because I want that Charger."

Toji turned, his gaze cold, his voice low and lethal. "You don’t stand a chance. But if you want another shot at getting humiliated, I’m all for it."

Before Hiromi could respond, Gojo strolled over, grinning. "What’s this, boys? Another rematch already? Damn, Zenin, you really don’t let these guys breathe."

Hiromi glared at Gojo but kept his focus on Toji. "Next time, Zenin, I’ll take everything from you."

Toji smirked, leaning against his Charger, eyes gleaming with confidence. "You couldn’t take it if I gift-wrapped it for you."

The crowd began to disperse, the adrenaline still pulsing in the air as the racers regrouped. Y/n stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on Toji, who caught her gaze for a brief moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.

Hiromi stalked back to his Ferrari, his crew following behind, but the tension between him and Toji lingered like a storm cloud, promising that this rivalry was far from over.

Toji’s POV:

The race had been a rush, but now that it was over, Toji leaned against his Charger, the heat from the engine warming his back as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled from his lips, drifting into the cool night air, mixing with the distant cheers and hum of conversations around the lot. His eyes flickered toward Sukuna, who was sitting on the hood of Gojo’s RX-8, rolling up another joint with meticulous precision. The whole crew was there, unwinding after the adrenaline-fueled race.

Toji’s mind was still buzzing. Hiromi's words replayed in his head, especially the part about taking everything from him—including her. His jaw clenched slightly, but he masked it with another pull from his cigarette. He wasn’t going to let Hiromi—or anyone—get under his skin. But Y/n… she’d been watching, he could feel it. Every time he was around, he caught her eyes on him, just like his had been on her since that first time outside the library.

Gojo’s loud laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. The man was standing a few feet away, chatting up some girls who had stuck around after the race. Typical. Geto was nearby, doing the same, his relaxed posture oozing charm as he leaned in to talk to one of the girls, a grin tugging at his lips. Meanwhile, Choso rolled up late, as usual, pulling up on his custom motorbike with a low growl. He parked and swung his leg off, the gold accents on the sleek black bike gleaming under the neon lights.

"Why is she walking over here?" Choso asked, nodding in the direction of Mei Mei, who had just broken off from Y/n and Shoko. The rest of the guys followed his gaze.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, already grinning as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shit, hide your wallets, boys. She smells money from miles away."

Toji’s eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as Mei Mei strutted toward them with her usual confidence. And, as if it were instinct, his gaze flickered past her, locking onto Y/n who was standing a distance away with Shoko. She looked good—too good, even in the simple outfit she had on. His cigarette paused mid-air as his eyes lingered just a little too long. He forced himself to focus back on Mei Mei when Gojo's voice rang out again, teasing.

"Yo, isn’t that Y/n’s friend?" Choso asked as he parked his bike and sauntered over to the group.

Toji straightened, keeping his face neutral, but he knew what was coming. Damn Gojo. The guy always had a knack for turning the spotlight on Toji when he least wanted it.

Mei Mei arrived, glancing around the group before her eyes settled on Toji, her usual cool demeanor not faltering even for a second. "So, Toji," she started, her voice casual but carrying an edge of curiosity. "You gonna tell me what’s the deal with you eyeing up Y/n everywhere, or what?"

The group erupted in laughter, Sukuna shaking his head as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Geto chuckled, leaning back against the wall with a knowing grin.

Toji took a slow drag from his cigarette, playing it off, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream. "What are you talking about?" he said smoothly, though his heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted briefly toward Y/n again—bad move.

Gojo was on it in a second.

"Ohhh, Toji’s playin’ dumb now, huh?" Gojo piped up with a smirk. "Come on, man. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you checking her out at every turn." He nudged Sukuna, who snickered beside him, still focused on rolling his joint.

"Maybe he’s just shy, y’know?" Geto added with mock seriousness, shooting a wink in Toji’s direction.

Toji shot Gojo a glare. Bastard. He tried to play it cool, leaning back against his car with a shrug, tapping the ashes of his cigarette. "You all got nothing better to do than gossip like high schoolers?"

"Hey, no judgment," Gojo teased, his grin widening. "I’m just saying, if you’re gonna keep staring, might as well make a move, man. Y/n’s right over there."

Toji felt his pulse quicken, but he wasn’t about to let Gojo get the satisfaction. "Fuck off," he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette as he side-eyed Gojo. The group continued to laugh, but Toji’s gaze inevitably drifted toward Y/n again.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n could feel eyes on her before she even looked up. The race had been exciting—chaotic, really—but now, standing with Shoko, she felt a different kind of tension hanging in the air. She glanced across the lot and saw Toji’s crew huddled together. Mei Mei had left her and Shoko, heading straight for the guys, her usual confident strut not faltering for a second.

"She’s gonna stir up trouble," Shoko muttered beside her, lighting a cigarette as they watched the scene unfold.

Y/n nodded, biting her lip. She could see it from a mile away—Mei Mei had a habit of stirring the pot. But that wasn’t what was really on her mind. It was him. Toji Zenin. Or was it Fushiguro? She still didn’t really know why he switched between the two names. Either way, there was something about him that she couldn’t shake.

She’d seen the way he looked at her—subtle, but not really. The way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the tension in his jaw when she passed by. And now, standing here, she could feel his eyes on her again, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him.

"What’s the deal with him anyway?" she asked Shoko, trying to sound nonchalant, though her heart was beating faster than usual.

Shoko took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling before answering. "Toji? He’s… complicated. Quiet, but intense. And those rumors—yeah, they're wild, but it’s mostly because he and the guys are street racers. They’ve got that whole ‘bad boy’ rep going on."

"Bad boy, huh?" Y/n murmured, trying to mask her curiosity.

Shoko turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "You’re curious, aren’t you?" she teased.

Y/n didn’t answer, her eyes now locked on Mei Mei, who had stopped right in front of Toji, clearly about to stir something up. She watched as Mei Mei pointedly asked him something—probably about her. Toji’s reaction was calm at first, but then the guys started laughing, Gojo especially, and Y/n could see Toji shift slightly, his body tensing.

"Here we go," Shoko said with a smirk, flicking her cigarette onto the ground.

Before Y/n could respond, Mei Mei turned, smirking slightly, and began walking back towards them. Y/n could feel her heart racing. What the hell had she said to him?

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gojo shift his stance, his usual grin replaced with something more mischievous. He turned toward her direction, eyes glinting with that playful arrogance he always carried, and called out loud enough for the entire group to hear as well as other surrounding groups.

"Y/n! Toji’s been checking you out all night—why don’t you give him a reason to stop pretending he’s not interested?"

The words hit her like a punch, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She caught Toji’s eyes for a split second, and his expression, usually so unreadable, flickered with something—frustration, maybe? Annoyance?

Y/n swallowed hard, her pulse skyrocketing. She didn’t know what to say or do. But then Toji moved so fast it was almost a blur—he grabbed Gojo by the collar, jerking him forward as if he was about to land a punch. Gojo, ever the jokester, just laughed, his smirk unfazed.

"Come on, man," Gojo grinned, still laughing. "I wouldn’t steal your girl... unless..." His smirk widened.

Toji didn’t hesitate. His fist swung, but Gojo dodged easily, still laughing as Toji’s temper flared.

Toji’s fingers still buzzed from nearly decking Gojo, the cigarette barely hanging from his lips as he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t usually this quick to react, but Gojo had hit a nerve tonight, pushing him to the brink.

He took a deep drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke left his lips, rolling his shoulders back, trying to cool off.

That’s when Mei Mei casually sauntered over, plucking the freshly rolled joint right out of Sukuna’s hand as if it was hers to take. Toji's eyes flickered toward her in mild annoyance, but Mei Mei simply ignored him, lighting up the joint and taking a long, deliberate pull. She tilted her head back, exhaling the smoke with an almost too-calm demeanor.

Then, without missing a beat, she pulled out her phone and texted something, her lips curling into a smirk as she glanced briefly at Toji before looking down at her phone again.

She sauntered over to Gojo, who was still smirking, watching Toji carefully from the corner of his eye. "Mr. Moneybags," Mei Mei said smoothly, locking eyes with him. "Tell your dad to call me."

Gojo groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Mei Mei, please leave my dad alone. I beg you."

She just laughed, a soft, almost musical sound, clearly enjoying the way Gojo’s eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We both know you like when I bother him, plus he is one of my sugar daddies" she teased.

Just then, Toji’s eyes snapped across the lot. Shoko was dragging Y/n, who was clearly resisting, toward their group. Y/n tugged against Shoko’s hold, but Shoko was relentless, her arm wrapped firmly around Y/n’s wrist. The closer they got, the more Toji could feel the tension building in his chest. He’d already been thrown off tonight, and now she was being pulled right into the middle of it.

He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he tried to play it off, taking another slow drag from his cigarette, acting like her presence didn’t throw his whole vibe off.

Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled from resisting Shoko, her eyes wide as she shot a pleading look toward her friend. Shoko, completely unfazed, kept dragging her forward until they were finally in the middle of the group. Geto, who's leaning casually against his car now, sizing up the situation, turned his gaze toward Shoko and smirked.

"Shoko," he drawled, eyeing her up. "You’re looking a little too good tonight."

Shoko didn’t even blink, shooting him a look of pure disgust. "Eww, bro, no," she replied flatly, which only made Geto laugh harder, shaking his head as he pulled out a cigarette of his own.

Then, Shoko turned on her heel, fixing her eyes on Mei Mei. "Cough it up," she demanded, crossing her arms. Mei Mei, still with the joint hanging loosely between her lips, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. She rummaged through her designer bag for a moment before pulling out the Jacquemus wallet that Shoko had been nagging her about for weeks.

Shoko snatched it from her with a satisfied smile, examining the sleek leather. "Finally," she muttered, tucking it into her own bag.

Geto leaned over, still smirking. "I could’ve gotten you something prettier," he said smoothly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shoko waved him off. "Geto, please shut up," she deadpanned, pulling out her own cigarette to light up.

But Toji’s focus had already shifted completely—Y/n was standing right there now, wearing just a skin-tight white tank top that clung to her every curve, paired with her jeans. His eyes lingered on her, muscles tensing beneath his wife-beater.

He’d ditched his jacket after the race, feeling the heat in more ways than one. But now, standing here, trying not to look directly at her? That was a challenge he wasn’t sure he could win.

And, of course, Gojo noticed. The guy lived to mess with him. The smirk on Gojo’s face widened when he saw how hard Toji was trying not to stare at Y/n.

"Well, well," Gojo said smoothly, sidling right up next to Y/n with that cocky confidence only he could pull off. He leaned in close, flashing her a playful grin. "Y/n, you know," he began, his voice low, dripping with amusement, "I always knew you had good taste. Hanging out with us, looking all... well, let’s just say you’re the highlight of the night."

Y/n couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped past her lips, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Gojo’s blatant flirting. He had that charm about him—so easy, so smooth. But at the same time, her eyes kept flicking over to Toji, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

Toji was pretending he didn’t hear it, trying to stay cool, but the cigarette between his fingers was burning faster than it should have been. He took another drag, slow and measured, trying to keep his expression neutral. But Gojo wasn’t letting up.

"You know," Gojo continued, now leaning even closer to Y/n, "you should really consider hanging out with us more often. I mean, I could show you a good time—better than some guys around here."

It was a direct jab at Toji, and Toji knew it. His eyes snapped up, locking onto Gojo with a dangerous glint. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot as he straightened up, his broad frame tense.

"Oi," Toji’s voice cut through the chatter, low and sharp. His eyes were focused, burning with a barely-contained fire as he looked directly at Gojo. "Back off."

Gojo laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Toji," he teased. "I’m just having a little fun."

Y/n felt the tension spike in the air, her heart racing. She hadn’t been sure what Toji’s reaction would be, but now it was clear. He was pissed.

Toji stepped closer, his eyes now on Y/n, ignoring Gojo completely. "You okay?" His voice was a little softer now, but there was still that edge to it.

Y/n nodded, though her pulse was racing. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, her voice a little breathless.

Toji’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to Gojo. "Stop messing around," he muttered, the warning clear in his tone.

Gojo just grinned, but this time, he took a step back, deciding to back off—for now.

Sukuna, who had been watching all this unfold with mild interest, finally spoke up, his voice lazy and amused. "Damn, Toji. Didn’t know you had it in you to get all protective."

Toji shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. His heart was still racing, his mind still half on the race, half on Y/n. But one thing was for sure—next time, Gojo wouldn’t be running his mouth so freely.

Toji’s POV:

Toji felt the air crackle with tension as Gojo leaned in closer to Y/n. He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. But before he could act on that impulse, Gojo piped up, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Come on, man, I won’t do that... unless..." He let the words hang, his smirk widening.

Toji reacted instinctively, grabbing Gojo by the collar and yanking him forward. “You really want to test me right now?” he growled, eyes blazing with barely-contained rage. Gojo just laughed, clearly enjoying the playful threat. “Chill out, I was just joking!” he wheezed, still chuckling as he pushed Toji away.

Meanwhile, Y/n turned to Shoko, a frown on her face. “How could you sell me out for a wallet?” she teased, shaking her head.

Shoko shrugged, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Two birds with one stone,” she replied, nudging Y/n gently.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about the whole ‘I’m getting a wallet’ plan!” Y/n protested, laughing.

Choso, who usually stayed quiet, chimed in unexpectedly, “So, Y/n, are you coming to my party later tonight?” His voice was casual, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “It’s 1 AM in the morning, Choso,” she replied, ready to decline.

“AND?” he shot back, not missing a beat.

Just as she opened her mouth to say no, Mei Mei cut in with a sly smile. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there.” Then she turned to Toji, that same playful grin lingering. “Including Y/n,” she added, her tone teasing.

Choso eagerly shared the details, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “It’s at my place—just a few blocks from here. Should be a good time.”

Geto leaned back against his car, his gaze fixed on Shoko. “How are you guys getting there?” he asked, his voice casual, though the excitement simmered just beneath the surface.

“I’ll drive,” Shoko replied, rolling her eyes at Geto’s obvious interest. He shot her a cheeky smile and a wink, which made her shake her head in exasperation.

“Alright, well, see you boys at the party!” Mei Mei said, leading the girls away, Y/n glancing back at Toji one last time before she was whisked away.

Toji kept his gaze locked on her as she walked away, a mixture of longing and frustration swirling inside him. But then he noticed her stop, and his heart dropped. Y/n greeted Hiromi with a hug, her smile wide as she wrapped her arms around his rival.

His blood boiled instantly, anger flaring through him. “Holy shit, she knows him?” Geto exclaimed, his surprise mirroring Toji’s internal turmoil.

Toji took a step forward, ready to pounce, fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell is she doing?” he muttered, unable to contain the rage that bubbled inside him.

“Wait,” Sukuna said sharply, grabbing Toji’s arm to hold him back. “Ask her at the party. Don’t make a scene here.”

Toji gritted his teeth, struggling to rein in his anger as he watched Y/n and Hiromi laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing within him.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n felt a wave of relief as she stepped away from Shoko, laughing at their playful banter about the wallet. But then she turned, and her heart did a little flip when she saw Choso looking her way. His friendly demeanor was hard to resist. “Are you coming to my party later tonight?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to decline, but then Mei Mei chimed in with her usual enthusiasm, and suddenly the idea of going didn’t seem so bad. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there,” Mei Mei said confidently.

The prospect of a party was tempting, and Y/n felt a rush of excitement. But just as she started to think it over, she caught sight of Toji. He was watching her intently, a storm brewing in those dark eyes of his. She had never seen him look so intense, and it made her heart race.

When she hugged Hiromi, she was blissfully unaware of the tension spiraling around Toji. His arms were so familiar, and she felt safe in his embrace. They laughed about something that had happened during their last encounter, completely lost in their own little world.

But when she pulled away, she felt the weight of someone’s gaze burning into her back. It was Toji. She turned slightly and caught his eye, but the moment didn’t last long. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and it made her stomach twist in an odd mix of excitement and unease.

Then she noticed the anger flaring in Toji’s expression, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at Hiromi. She realized then that she might have unintentionally stepped into the middle of something brewing between the two.

“Hey, Y/n,” Hiromi said, his voice smooth. “You got plans after this?”

“Yeah, heading to a party apparently. I'll see you around!” she replied, trying to keep the conversation light as she pulled away from him.

As she walked back toward Shoko and Mei Mei, she glanced over her shoulder at Toji, who was still watching her. The expression on his face was intense—almost possessive, and it made her wonder about the undercurrents she sensed between them. What did it mean that he seemed so affected by her interactions with Hiromi?

The tension in the air felt electric, and as they headed off toward the party, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated between her and Toji.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter one

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): none

series masterlist; next part

The atmosphere surrounding the students on the Hogwarts Express differed massively in comparison to your fifth year last year, when everyone was wholly against Harry. Now, however, people whispered in their compartments about how he was right, the Dark Lord had returned. How everything was changing, especially with the rising death toll, wizard and muggle combined.

You were walking to the designated Prefect's compartment, which sat in the middle of the train, with Hermione at your side, your blue and bronze tie clashing with her burgundy and gold one. Your presence at the Ministry that summer prompted the two of you to be topics of few conversations, you sent glares their way.

"What do you think will happen this year?" the Gryffindor girl asked as you both made your way through the throngs of students in the hallway.

"Considering we almost died in June?" you say, a frown painting your face as your mind brings you back to your traumatic time in the Department of Mysteries to aid Harry in saving (and failing to do so) his Godfather. "We'll probably face certain death this year, Mione."

Hermione swatted your arm in feined annoyance at your attempt of a joke. "Don't put that thought into existence Meadow."

You only shrugged as you held the compartment door open for her. Ron was already waiting inside, glaring at Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, who were sat diagonally across from him.

Unlike your Gryffindor companions, you had no issues with the two snakes, in fact they were two people you would consider your closest friends, if it wasn't for the prejudice that went both ways – from your friends and some of their's.

"Stop glaring holes into the sides of their heads, Ron." you scold. "I've told you before, they're my friends. They won't do anything to you."

He said nothing, but he did stop his glaring in favour of greeting the two of you.

The Prefect meeting went on for over an hour and you found yourself zoning out multiple times.

You're going to miss out on important information if you keep daydreaming, tesoro. Theodore. You admired that he was as talented as he was, but it was annoying when he would invade your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at him.

Stay out of my head, Teddy.

But it's so fun, and so easy. He smirked and turned his attention back to the Head Boy, who was busy assigning roles to the new fifth year prefects. Pansy nudged Theo's arm, breaking his concentration, as she was obviously using her own legillimens ability to berate him. She offered you a smile in apology, which you returned with one of your own.

You'd taken to learning legillimens at the start of fifth year, having read about it in a book you'd taken from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. You also wanted to protect your mind, especially with the knowledge that Voldemort was back after Harry had returned with Cedric Diggory's dead body at the end of your fourth year.

"Now onto you sixth years." the Head Girl announced. "Like last year, you're going to be paired off for nightly patrols."

She began pairing you off one by one. Hermione was with Ernie Macmillan; Ron was paired with Hannah Abbot; Pansy with your Ravenclaw counterpart and Theodore was paired with you. She then paired off the seventh year prefects before the Head Boy dismissed you all.

~∞~

Ron yawned as he stepped into the corridor. "Thank Merlin that's over. I'm starving."

"You're always hungry, Ronald." Hermione muttered as she walked out behind him, rolling her eyes at his usual ramblings, causing you to laugh at his expense.

"My my, it's a wonder why Dumbledore chose you to be a prefect with that attitude, Weasley." Theodore spoke up from behind you, Pansy at his side, once again shooting you an apologetic smile.

"Piss off, Nott." Ron snarked, turning to face your snickering Slytherin friend, about to take a step towards him when you put a hand on his chest.

"Leave it Ron. He's only trying to get a rise out of you. I'll meet you both in the compartment in a bit." you say, turning to face a smirking Theo with a berating glare.

"Wanted to get me alone, tesoro? Finally. I've waited all these years." he said with a grin, stepping towards you as your Gryffindor friends reluctantly left.

"Don't flatter yourself, Teddy." you say with an eye roll before you turned to Pansy and brought her into a hug. "I've missed you Pans. Good summer?"

"Abysmal." she muttered, sharing a not-so-subtle look with Theo. You looked between them questioningly.

"What happened?" you ask.

Exchanging glancing, they seemed to come to an agreement and Pansy grabbed your hand, dragging you into the closest empty compartment. Theo followed behind the two of you, closing the door and spelling it from unwanted listeners.

"What's with the secrecy? Guys?" you look between them growing more confused by the second.

"Before I tell you, you have to understand, I didn't have a choice, none of us did." Theo emphasises. "I consider you one of my best friends, tesoro. But what I'm about to reveal....it cannot under any circumstances leave this room."

You look at him confused, but the nagging thought that had haunted you all summer suddenly creeped up on your subconscious. Your eyes widened.

"No. Theo don't tell me-" you stutter and he looks away ashamed.

His son is my best friend. My father wants to get into his good graces, I had no choice. Even his voice in your head sounds despondent.

"Oh Teddy." you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist, hugging him tight.

"I'm to receive the mark during the Christmas holidays." he mumbles dejectively into your hair. "Hell of a Christmas present."

"How good is your legillimens ability?" Pansy asks you. "Can you block people out."

"I have my thoughts locked away into a little mental box, but I'm still working on fully blocking people out." you say, pointedly looking up at Theo, who smiles innocently at you.

"You'll need to practice it then." she says resolutely, but the look on her face indicates nothing pleasant. "Mattheo can help you."

You scoffed. "There is no way Riddle will willingly help me. His father's biggest threat is one of my best friends."

"And you're one of our best friends, Meadow." Pansy says. "Our loyalty to eachother goes both ways. He'll help you, he's the most advanced at it, besides Snape and Dumbledore of course. Trust me."

"What about Harry?" I ask. "And Ron and Hermione, the Order. What am I meant to tell them. They won't be thrilled that I'm taking lessons from you-know-who's son."

"You'll tell them that you're tutoring Mattheo. It's a believable lie. He's shite at Ancient Runes, no matter how much I try to help him." Theo says, nodding his head as a plan forms in his mind. That was true. You don't know how Riddle was still enrolled in that class. "We've already discussed this becoming a possibility. He's more than willing."

"Why are you trusting me with this?" you question, staring between your two friends.

"Like it or not, you're our one way ticket to the right side of this war, tesoro. You know as well as I do that Potter needs as much help as he can get. And you need to protect your mind so that the Dark Lord can't get into your head." Theo says.

"So are you in?" Pansy asks as she heads towards the door. "Because there's no backing out from here, and I really don't want to obliviate one of my dearest friends."

You know the risks. You don't know what this will mean for your current friendships. But you know that Theodore is right. To help Harry, he'll need as much help as possible. Having Theo and Pansy on your side could be a turning point in this brewing war.

"I'm in." you say, nodding your head in agreement. "Just keep the snarky comments to a minimum about Ron, Mione and Harry, please. And relay that message to the rest of your friends too."

"Already done, tesoro." Theo says, ruffling your hair, grinning when you swat his hand away.

You question what he means for a moment when the back of your skull begins to burn with a dull ache. You cradle the back of your neck with your hand, wincing at the sting as Mattheo's deep, raspy voice fills every corner of your mind.

Lessons start tomorrow night, Princess. Don't be late.

He was already in your head, you sighed. It was going to be a long year.

~∞~

You reached the compartment that your other friends occupied at the same time that Harry and Neville seemed to be leaving it.

"Where are you two off to?" you ask as the two boys move away from the open doorway.

"To meet Professor Slughorn." Neville said, although he looked a mixure of nervous and confused.

"Who the hell is that?" you look at Hermione as you go inside, leaving Harry and Neville on their venture.

"New Professor, apparently." she replied. "What took you so long?"

You knew that your friends, minus maybe Harry, had little to no legillimens skills, but nevertheless, you cleared your mind of the conversation you'd had with Theo and Pansy.

"Well Pansy likes a gossip." you said flipantly as you pulled out a book from your never ending bag. "How else are we to know everything that goes on outside of our little circle, now that Lee Jordan is no longer in school?"

Ron and Hermione smile at that, before Ron's face drops.

"Listen, be careful around them this year, yeah." he said, his voice low. "We went to see Fred and George's new shop and watched Malfoy go into Borgin and Burke's with a bunch of known Death Eaters."

Your heart dropped. Theo would be participating in those meeting come Christmas time. That must mean that Draco was already involved.

"Well you know what sort of things they sell there." you say hesitantly. "It probably doesn't mean anything."

Hermione scoffed. "Try telling that to Harry. I think he's convinced that Draco and Riddle have been inducted."

You fall silent shortly after that. The conversation only picking up again when Neville came back to the compartment, Ginny following behind him.

Harry was nowhere in sight.

~∞~

Harry was awol for the rest of the trainride.

When the Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade station and you all found a carriage to settle in, he still wasn't there.

"Where on Earth is he?" Mione muttered as the thestrals, that were no longer invisible to you all after Sirius' death, pulled onto the winding road up to the castle.

"He's probably already in a carriage and didn't wait for us. Wouldn't be the first time." Ron assured, although his face betrayed his words as he looked as worried as you and Hermione.

You were unconvinced, and more so when you split off towards the Ravenclaw table when the three of you arrived to the Great Hall and saw, not to your surprise, Mattheo Riddle with bloody and bruised knuckles. As you sat beside Luna Lovegood you felt that same prickling sensation that you did on the train. He was watching you, and he continued to watch you with his cold, unbothered stare through the sorting ceremony and Dumbledore's speech.

Your attention was brought to the doors of the Great Hall where Harry seemed to materialise, Snape's looming figure behind him. But what you noticed the most in the bright glow of floating candles that bothered you more than his lack of punctuality, was the bloody tissue he was dabbing at his recently-fixed broken nose, which he did not have when you last saw him hours earlier.

People stared and whispered as he made his way to where Ron and Hermione were sitting. But your attention was pulled to where Crabbe and Goyle were sat snickering from their seats beside Draco. You narrowed your eyes at Riddle, who was still looking at you.

Got a staring problem, Princess?

Merlin he infuriated you. You focused on him as you thought of your response.

Did you do that to his face?

He smirked. Did I do what?

You didn't give him a response, instead turning your attention to Theo, who was chatting to Lorenzo Berkshire. Did Riddle do that to Harry? You asked and you watched as Theo startled before maintaining the same facade of conversation.

No. It was Draco. Harry was eavesdropping his conversation with Blaise. Matt was with me and Enzo.

Your question was answered, but you were still left unsatisfied. And Riddle's stare had not faltered, which added to your growing bad mood.

Stop fucking staring at me, Riddle. And stay out of my head.

He smirked wickedly and finally looked away, taking the prickling sensation along with him.

~∞~

first post on tumblr after lurking for a year 🫢

i've been a little hyperfixated on the slytherin boys (particularly theo and mattheo) so i thought i'd try out writing a short(ish) fic, but i couldn't be bothered with wattpad (i'm procrastinating finishing a fic on there lol)

i'm also writing this instead of finishing uni assignments that are literally due at the end of the week whoops

[zepskies]

Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!

Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!

Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.

Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):

What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self

"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.

"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.

Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."

Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."

Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.

"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"

Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.

"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.

Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"

Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.

No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.

"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."

Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.

Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."

"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."

Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.

"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.

Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.

"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.

Ben levels a pointed finger at him.

"All you need to do, is protect it."

AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

(I've paired this down from the old list that seemed to have a lot of people/blogs that are no longer active.)

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum

@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess

@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland

@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina

@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic

@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas

[daiziesssart]

a humiliatingly long character analysis of lily evans

Someone sent me an ask that briefly mentioned how misunderstood Lily is, and before I knew it I was typing out this monster. I am. sorry. This is literally just me rambling about her, what I find compelling about her character, and why her character is so often misunderstood.

This is long as hell so I'm putting it under a read more lolol

Part of the reason I like Lily so much (other than my being ginger and projecting onto any redheaded female character I see) is that even though she isn’t explored as much as her other Marauders Era counterparts, we know enough about her to start building the framework for her character. And what I see is a girl who was incredibly interesting, kind, and flawed.

One thing I always think about in regards to Lily is that she was dealt with a pretty unfair hand. As soon as she receives her letter, she’s basically torn between two worlds, both of which have been less than welcome to her. On one hand, we have the muggle world that she’s known all her life, but once she starts integrating into the wizarding world, she likely feels a bit of a disconnect with that world. To twist the knife further, her sister- whom she loved dearly and grew up so close with- starts outwardly resenting her with such unbridled hostility that they likely couldn’t even be in a room alone together without major conflict. 

On the other hand, we have the wizarding world– a world she’s not as familiar with and one she soon learns holds a demographic of people who hate everything she is and would rather see her excommunicated or even dead. And even though finding out you’re a witch/wizard is probably such an exciting and life-changing moment, I can’t help but also take note of the difficulties, especially if you’re the only one in your family with magic. You’re essentially uprooted from the only way of life you’ve known at an already complicated age, and now you have to quickly become acclimated to this new world that you only just found out existed. Not only that, but now you’re suddenly attending a school with classes that are primarily focused on this world of magic (which is still brand new to you), and you have to work extra hard to play catch up in order to do well. Like, that all seems like… a lot for a kid to handle.

And then I remember how young she was when she was thrown into that mess. She was only 11, and kids that age desperately crave any sense of belonging. I mean, that’s something that still holds true for adults, but it’s especially critical for a developing child. So imagine Lily, ages 11-15, struggling to stay afloat in this weird purgatory between these two parts of herself, both of which have been the cause for major and traumatic experiences relating to rejection in her life.

(I say it was the “cause” even though it’s obvious that those things were never her fault at all, but when you’re a young kid navigating the world, the only thing you’re able to process is that the common denominator is you, therefore you’re the one who must shoulder the blame.)

So now we have this tween-teenaged girl who has a dysfunctional relationship with two major parts of identity and probably feels absolutely lost. 

This is why her hesitancy to end her friendship with Snape makes sense to me. Even though by fifth year he’s already well past toeing the line with the dark arts, Lily was willing to overlook some pretty egregious and troubling things in order to maintain the relationship. I kind of interpret that as her way of desperately clinging on to any sense of belonging she has left; her relationship with Petunia has already been poisoned, and now there are people who resent her existence as a witch; if she loses Severus too, what and who else does she have? And what tone does that set for her, if everyone and everything she’s come to hold close to her ends up turning her away?

It’s also important to note that not only is Severus one of her few remaining connections to the muggle world, but he’s also a wizard who grew up in the muggle world; he understands her, and I don’t doubt that he gave her some stability at times when she needed it (her finding out about her being a witch, her having trouble acclimating to the wizarding world, etc).

I see this as being one of her flaws and I can actually appreciate how relatable and realistic it feels. Lily is not a bad person; on the contrary, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone to describe her as such. Not to get all clinical and boring, but the interesting thing about (unhealthy) coping mechanisms is that it can actually be really hard to identify them in your own behavior. Unless you’re in therapy and/or are actively psychoanalyzing yourself, you likely don’t even realize how many of your common behaviors are born from self defense mechanisms put in place by your brain after past events.

To me, it makes sense why she avoided actually confronting the idea that Snape was too far gone. We know that she was aware of the path Severus was taking, but it almost seems like she was still convinced that she could save him, and could possibly steer him back in the right direction. It’s only when she becomes the target of his bigotry that she realizes that the Snape who called her a ‘mudblood’ was not the same Severus who was the one who held her hand and introduced her to this new, exciting world.

In a general sense, yes, it is selfish, to only take a stand when something starts affecting you personally. But I also think it’s important to note that it’s unlikely that this was a conscious decision on Lily’s part. In my eyes, it was easier to delude herself into thinking she still had a chance to save him before it was too late when she was able to separate him from his actions (considering, a lot of the time, she was only hearing about them after the fact, rather than seeing them firsthand). But the elusion is shattered once she sees that the Snape she grew up with– her friend, Severus– is, in fact, the same person who’s out there calling other students slurs, dismissing the malicious use of Dark Magic on others as just “a laugh”. There we see a Lily who is actually revealed to have been somewhat aware of Snape’s involvement with the darker side of magic, and genuinely feels pretty ashamed about her inaction.

Also, this is in no way me being a Snape-anti, and I actually could do an entire separate analysis on his character alone and why I find him so interesting.

Anyways, that moment in SWM is probably somewhat of an epiphany to her. It’s like a dam that’s been broken, and now she’s overwhelmed with the realization of exactly how much she overlooked in order to keep their friendship afloat. And for someone like Lily Evans, someone whom we know is opinionated and unafraid to call others out on their bullshit, that can be hard to swallow and feel pretty mortifying and shameful. And I think this was a huge turning point for her- at that point, she doesn’t have the luxury of avoiding uncomfortable truths anymore and now that she’s getting closer to graduating and being thrown out into the world on the brink of war, this was probably a really sobering discovery.

This is where we don’t have as much info to go off of, and a lot of it is up to interpretation. But we actually have little crumbs to go off of following her graduation and leading up to her death.

One of my favorite little tidbits isn’t in the books, and @seriousbrat's post reminded me about it. Here's the actual entry on Pottermore for anyone who's interested, but I'll summarize: after James and Lily began dating, Lily brings James to meet newly engaged Petunia and Vernon. Everything goes downhill, because Vernon is a smarmy asshole, and James is still pretty immature and can’t help but mess with him (which… fair, I guess). Petunia and Vernon storm out after Petunia letting Lily know that she had no intentions of having her as a bridesmaid, which causes Lily to break down into tears. I mention this because I also think it’s a pretty important aspect of her character; like we’ve seen in her past friendship with Snape, Lily seems more than willing to forgive others most of the time. Petunia is a bit of a complicated character herself, but she was objectively very cruel and unfair to Lily once it became obvious that she was a witch and Petunia was not.

Something that always stands out to me is just how desperate Lily is to earn Petunia’s trust and approval again. Even up until her death, she was more than willing to mend the relationship, were Petunia ever to consider. 

This is a detail about Lily that I feel is misunderstood quite a bit. I’ve seen a lot of instances of her character being reduced to a one-dimensional archetype with little to no complexity. And often, that archetype is “know-it-all, prudish, self righteous bookworm who is also a goody two-shoes with a stick up her ass”. What annoys me is that the reason for this is most definitely the scene in which she blows up at James in SWM for bullying Snape, and hurls quite a few insults at him directly after an extremely devastating and overwhelming situation for her. This frustrates me because we know for a fact that she’s the polar opposite of this archetype I’ve seen her reduced to. 

In actuality, she’s referred to as popular, charming, witty, bright and kind. From flashbacks we also are shown that she’s opinionated, bold, and not afraid to challenge others. With other context, like her interpersonal relationships, we can also see that she’s pretty emotionally driven and wears her heart on her sleeve. 

(I know Remus didn’t mention Lily much in the books, but I really love how he described her in the movies. He tells Harry that the first thing he noticed about him was not his striking resemblance to his father, but his eyes, the same eyes Lily had. He also calls her a “singularly gifted witch” and an “uncommonly kind woman”.

“She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even and perhaps most especially, when that person could not see it in themselves.”

I know there are mixed feelings on whether or not the films count as canon source material, so take it with a grain of salt, but I personally cannot see a world in which Lily and Remus didn’t become close friends.)

Here we have a direct description of what she was like and who she was, corroborated by recounting of memories of her, and yet for some reason, this feels like the thing that is most commonly lost in translation.

I don’t think I can say why I think that is without mentioning the dreaded M word (misogyny- it’s misogyny), but I also don’t want to get too off topic so I’ll be brief: female characters are typically not given the same grace as male characters. When we have an undeveloped male character, he’s awarded the assumption that despite his lack of depth, there still exists a complex and multifaceted character– it’s merely just potential that hasn’t been tapped into. Whereas when we have underdeveloped female characters, they are taken at face value, meaning that not much exists beyond the little information we have of them. They are not presumed to have a life or a story that exists beyond the surface of what we know like male characters are. That’s why I think characters like Regulus, Evan, or Barty (just to name a few) are more popular than Lily, despite being less developed than she is.

(Before anyone gets defensive, no, I don’t think it’s an individual problem that you alone need to be shamed for. I think it’s the result of a deeper issue regarding misogyny in media as a concept; these are things that we’ve all unknowingly internalized and while it’s not our fault, we still have to do the work to deconstruct those learned prejudices.)

What I find really cool about her character is that despite how much she’s been hurt, she’s also still known as one of the most loving, kind, and considerate characters. There were so many times in her life where the love she received was conditional and ripped away from her– and I think that’s what makes her sacrifice even more poignant. She was able to protect her infant son from an extremely powerful dark wizard, wand-less, knowing that her husband was just murdered in cold blood, just from how much love she felt for Harry. Her love was a force of nature on its own, and I just think that’s such an amazing thing about her. 

I know I’m biased, given that she’s one of my favorite characters, but even upon delving into this, I still just find it so incredibly hard to understand how anyone can actively hate her (not indifference, but actual dislike). In my opinion (again, no one is unbiased, and she is a favorite character of mine, but trust me when I say that I’m trying to be objective as possible when I say this), she’s probably one of the most likable characters of the Marauders Era. I think perhaps a lot of people haven’t given her a chance or really taken the time to learn about her character, but it could be a myriad of other reasons that I’ll never understand. 

There's so much more I could say but this is long enough and I will stop myself

Lily Evans, u will always be famous to me

[yanderelovlies]

Note: I know in my heart of hearts Halsin wouldn't be a Yandere, but like 😳😳

Warning: Slight NSFW and yandere tendencies

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character: Halsin

Pairing: Halsin x gn!reader

At camp, he would watch you interact with all the companions. He never said anything, but there were few he didn't like around you, afraid they would corrupt you. When you weren't in eyesight, he hoped thoughts of you would subside, but they never did. If anything, he thought of you more, especially when he is alobe in his tent at night stroking his cock to said thoughts of you.

When you had saved him from the goblins, helped the Grove, and helped him bring the shadow curse to an end. Halsin knew you were good. He would even go as far as to say you were too good for this world. The light and warmth you brought to the world was something deemed that needed to be protected at all costs. So he joined your cause, throwing himself in any danger to protect you. To make sure some absolute cultists or Gith didn't take you.

While traveling, he always sizes up who you're talking to for both intentions and weakness. He immediately steps in if he doesn't like where the conversation is going or the intentions of the person. He has to use all his strength not to butt in or lung when talking with Orin and Gortash. He loaths the emperor even more.

These protective and obsessive behaviors were new to Halsin. He always believed himself to be like his bear counterpart. Never mating for life, always roaming, and yet... When he sits at the campfire watching you play with the owlbear cub and the dog Scratch under the stars he can't help but want to keep you for himself.....away from anyone who wants to taint the pure goodness in you.

Eventually, his actions began to mirror his thoughts as he began to occupy all of your attention in and out of camp. He would even get the help of the Owl bear cub, scratch, and some local critters from wyrmscrossing and Baldur's Gate.

Shadowheart wants to share a bottle of wine with you? Not anymore, the Owl bear knocked it out of your hand, trying to get you to play with him, which he was successful with. Astarion wanting a little late night nibble from your beautiful neck? Not any more if scratch has something to say about it. Gale, trying to talk to you? Oh well, he was till a rat climbed up his trousers.

Anytime you tried to spend with any other companion was redirected most times in Halsin's direction. If not his, then Owl bear and Scratch. They are the only ones Halsin trusts. The other companions take notice but are unable to approach you to question or point out. They can barely get a word in during a fight.

Eventually, Halsin tells you his more domestic feelings. "You are all my heart wants. All it desires. Please tell me you feel the same." Anxiety rolls off of him as he waits for your response. What will he do if you reject him. He, of course, will respect your choice, but...He can't let you go....can he? The longer he waits, the longer his thoughts spiral down a dark path he was never treaded before.

When you accept his face lights with joy. His dark thoughts long forgotten. All he can think about is kissing you. So much so that he forgets to ask before pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. It was better than he ever imagined. He was becoming addicted.

Halsin had to pull away before he lost all control and devoured you on the spot. "It's makes me so happy to hear you feel the same my heart..." His large callous hand holds your soft face as he rests his forehead against yours. It was at this moment that he swore to Silvanus that after the defeat of the Absolute, he was going to take you away. Away from those who wish to take advantage of your kindness. Away from a world full of cruel beings. Away to were he can cherish and love you without fear.

You will be safe and tucked away like all of Silvanus's special gifts.