#He’s the only one you see as real while everyone else is fiction

[scarlet-cookie]

I once wrote a line for The Untrusted AU for a loosely written scene where Joey is supposed to end Henry (for the second time, mind you, and the first wasn’t very pretty either).

Henry : If you could make the call right now, would you choose to sacrifice me?

Joey : (sobbing on the floor dying crying holding a rainbow-stained machete /Allison’s/) I would’ve picked you, because you were the only thing that was real in my world of illusory fiction.

Oh how I love writing one sided unrequited Joenry/Creatorship scenes.

What’s the greatest compliment from someone who views the world as a stage and all the people are actors if not “you are my only reality”?

I can ramble on about these two’s long intertwined dynamic in The Untrusted AU for so long lmao.

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

[velvetydream]

꒰ : ☕️ [ Mercilessly ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You're normally one who enjoys slow and romantic sex, but something deep inside changed after seeing Yunho at Coachella and on tour.

Pairing : Dom! Yunho x Fem! Sub! Reader

Word count : 2.5K Words

Genre : Smut with soft aftercare

Smut Content ➵ Size Kink (Reader is smaller than Yunho), Degradation, Dumbification, Sex Toys, Orgasm Denial, Coming multiple times, Oral (F receiving), Raw Sex (Wrap it up people), Manhandling

a/n : Yunho has me in a chokehold and istg I'll cry so hard when seeing all these hot ass man next year at baricade.

Disclaimer : This is purely fiction and in no way supposed to dispict how Yunho is in real life. Please skip and block if you don't like it.

Yunho was a sweet lover; he was always attentive to your every need. Cooking nice food, giving you a massage after a long day, cuddling you while playing games. In the sheets he was a sweet and loving man, taking care of you with soft touches and featherlight kisses. Despite loving this romantic sex, something recently switched inside of you.

Watching him at Coachella, at the tour, and all those ungodly fan cams and pictures Atiny posted over the last few weeks had you shaking. Not being able to pinpoint exactly what is bothering you, the sex was good, no question, but it left you unsatisfied, not that you didn't reach your peak, no you always did with Yunho, yet deep down, something was missing.

A sigh leaves your lips as your brain moves around ideas of what could be bothering you, not noticing Wooyoung watching you and taking a seat beside you. "What's wrong?" A little surprised, you look up; you hadn't even noticed him sit down beside you; so much in your own head right now. "O-Oh nothing! I'm fine!" It wasn't a good idea to tell Wooyoung about this; he ran his mouth too quickly by accident, but then he was the most open and helpful person for this topic out of the boys. "Oh, come on, you've been looking like a kicked puppy for days and now have been sighing for half an hour." Eyes wide, you look at Wooyoung; was it so obvious?

"Okay fine.." Taking a good look around, you two were the only ones in the dorm right now; some of the others went to shower while your boyfriend and Mingi went to get the food for tonight. "I don't know how to explain, like.. Yunho is an amazing boyfriend, he is attentive, sweet and always takes care of me.. in every aspect if you know what I mean, he is romantic and careful with me and.. since a few weeks I just feel.. unsatisfied? No.. that's the wrong wording something is missing? I don't know.." Your head falls into your hands as you try to speak the words swimming through your mind for days. "Sounds to me like you want to get pounded mercilessly." Choking on air, your head shoots up as you look at Wooyoung terrified. Why did he always have a way of speaking his mind without a second thought? "No, seriously, of course, romantic sex is nice, but a rough man that makes you forget your own name is something else. Try it; maybe it is the thing bothering you; if not, we can try and think of something else!" Wooyoung's talking about this as if that's a duo mission of you both now.

At that moment, Mingi and Yunho stepped through the door with bags of food in their hands. Wooyoung jumps up to take something while calling everyone to come eat; the others from the dorms downstairs just arrive a few minutes later. "Hope it was okay with Wooyoung; I know he can be a handful." Yunho presses a soft kiss to your temple, which makes you blush and nod. Wooyoungs words invading your mind now. Suddenly, you noticed every little filthy detail about Yunho. The way he towers over you, the way his long fingers wrap around his chopsticks, how his thick lips love, the way his pants strain against his thighs so deliciously. Shaking your head, you take a big gulp of your cold drink before shoving noodles into your mouth. Snickering made you look to your left, seeing Wooyoung smirk at you with a raised eyebrow, that fucker.

The evening continued with everyone deciding on playing a few games; Yunho sat beside you as he played Mario Kart against San, Seonghwa, and Jongho, screaming insults at them, which surprisingly made you clench your thighs under the blanket. Watching the way his fingers hit the buttons on the controller, your mind wandering off to filthy places yet again. Looking up to see Yunho bite his lip as he watches the TV intently while hitting the buttons on the controller.

"We should probably head down now, I'm getting tired." Yunho announces to the group making some whine in protest. Taking your hand, Yunho and you bid your goodbyes as he leads you out of the door and to the elevator to head down to his and Yeosangs dorm. "Hope you enjoyed the evening, my love." His hand was resting on the lower of your back now, drawing patterns with his long fingers. "Oh yes! It was fun watching you guys play, I also had a nice chat with Seonghwa and Hongjoong." Being led outside the elevator now and to the door of their dorm. "Really? I'm glad you enjoyed the evening.." He continued talking as he opened the door, letting you in first before following, quickly grabbing your waist to pull you against his chest after the door closed. "..You seemed to especially enjoy watching me, don't think I didn't see you rubbing your legs~" He whispers into your ear, placing a soft kiss against the shell.

"Are you in the mood? Wanna take this to the bedroom?" His touch was again soft, featherlight as if you'd break any second. "Please.." You whisper as you turn around throwing your arms around his neck as Yunho picks you off of the ground, moving you two to his room and locking the door. "You're so cute when you're needy baby.." His lips are attached to your neck already as he lowers you down onto your back, the softness of the bed engulfing you. "Also the dress you wore today is so pretty." Lips and kisses travel up your jaw till he meets your lips, capturing yours in a soft kiss. His hands run softly over your sides and up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher and higher.

Those long sinful fingers soon meet your clothed cunt, as he starts to tease with light touches, watching your face contort in pleasure and small gasps leaving your lips. Yet it wasn't enough, it was too soft, and something was missing, yet you let him do his thing for now, maybe Wooyoung and your brain are wrong, maybe it was just the fact you weren't home the last few times, having sex in a hotel room is something else, it's weird. But as Yunho continued, slipping his fingers into your underwear, swiping his digit over your clit and down to your entrance, before entering and softly pumping it in and out. Moans leave your lips as your hands claw onto his upper arms, but you're still not satisfied; it wasn't enough; the touch was too soft, and it felt too light. "Yuyu.." You gasp out, his eyes meeting your hazed ones.

"I need more.." You whine, hands holding onto his arms tightly, his finger still inside you. "Do you want more fingers?" He asks now, not quite understanding what you're trying to tell him. Shaking your head embarrassed, your cheeky burn a bright hot red. "Do you want my dick?" He asks making you giggle slightly at the vulgar word leaving his mouth. "Yes but.. no.. I.. please fuck me so hard I forget my name, rough Yuyu please, I need you, use me.." You whine, your walls clenching around his fingers while you tell him what you need, a new wave of slickness covering his fingers. "That I didn't expect.. Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you.." Yunho looks at you worried, but you nod your head immediately. You were more than sure. "Please, Yunho, I need you." And suddenly something switched in Yunho.

Tearing down your underwear, he angles his hand differently before shoving two fingers into you, thrusting them in and out mercilessly, while his head leans down to bite your thigh and suck your clit. Moaning your head is thrown back into the soft pillow that smells like Yunho. Everything smells like him, his whole scent and being surrounding you. "F-Fuck Yunho.." Your thighs were trembling, already close to stumbling over the edge from how intense his fingers were, but before you could come, Yunho pulled his fingers away. "Strip." He orders you, making the wetness between your legs intensify; following his order, you strip out of your dress and bra before he pulls you onto his lap, Yunho still fully clothed.

His fingers soon found your hole again and pounded into it; this time, he added another one, the burn just the right mixture of pain and pleasure. Your head was thrown back as Yunho attaches his mouth to your mounds, licking and sucking the stiff nipples. "F-Fuck..!" Your moans were getting louder, and your hole clenched around his fingers, just to get the orgasm ripped away from you again, whining loudly. "Shut up, you wanted to get pounded roughly, make you forget your own name like a cock drunk little slut, like you're only made for my cock as a toy, the perfect hole to satisfy me." Yunho throws your body onto the bed, before turning you around and pulling your ass up. Before you could ask what he was doing, you could hear a familiar buzz coming from behind you, your whole body jerks as you feel the vibrator being placed against your clit, before it moved to your whole and is pushed in, yet it's your favorite one with two spots so your clit and g spot is being stimulated. "Better keep that in and not come until I'm ready."

You could hear him slowly open his belt which soon hit the ground before he moved to his other clothes, he was taking his painfully sweet time, while your body was being pleasured in two spots soon to make you see stars, biting down on your lip, you hoped Yunho would soon be finished and take the vibrator out before you come. And just as you were close to the edge again, he took it out and turned it off. "Good girl you listened so well~" His hand softly rubs over your back in a praising way. "Now you get what a slut deserves. You'll come so many times on my cock till you can only say my name, till the only thought in that dumb little head of yours is my cock pounding this tight little pussy." Grabbing your ass with one hand, he aligns himself and pushes in slowly, letting out a low groan. Moaning loudly as you arch your back, Yunho feels so deep inside of you. Instead of letting you adjust and start slowly, he grabs your hips with both hands and starts thrusting forcefully while pulling your ass against him in sync. This was what you wanted.

Moans leave your lips as your hands grab onto the sheets nothing else close to grab onto. "Look at that tiny cunt taking my cook so well; you're such a good cocksleeve for me, baby." Yunhos low groans pushed you closer to the edge; of course, he felt how close you were to coming. "Come slut, we're far from over." He groans as he snaps his hips against yours harder as you come on his cock, your walls pulsing around him, but he doesn't stop. Instead, his pace gets quicker and harder, your whole body shaking from the thrusts, and soon another orgasm is building up; this time, Yunho comes along with you. Pulling out for a second, you thought he was finished, but he turned you onto your back before entering your cunt again, making your back arch and tears swell in your eyes.

"Aw baby, no need to cry, I'll just make your wish come true." He whispers into your ear before snapping his hips against yours, his dick moving deep inside of your cunt; your head is thrown back as Yunho is back to attach his mouth to your mounds. He seems to be enjoying this just as much. Thrusting into you ruthlessly, his hips not slowing down once, that must be all the stamina from practice; that man could go for hours without a problem. "Y-Yunho.." Mouth slack as your eyes stare at the ceiling; another high is approaching; your body is already so sensitive from coming two times, already feeling your high; he moves his hand down your body and circles your clit quickly, and your eyes are blown wide from that as your orgasm washes over you that instant. Clutching onto his shoulders now, panting as you're coming down again, but Yunho still wasn't finished.

His big hands quickly grab your knees as he pushes your legs up, sliding into your cunt even deeper than before. "F-Fuck! To deep! Oh, holy shit.." Tears were now streaming down your face from the immense pleasure your body was feeling. "You're doing so great; you're so close to being finished." Yunho encourages you. Of course,, you knew the safeword for any case, but you wanted this so badly, so you nod at him. It takes him a second before pounding into you again, his strong hands holding your legs up into a mating press as he hammers his dick into your cunt. You were so close to seeing stars now from this position; he was so deep, sure he almost reached your cervix; his thrusts weren't letting up but rather getting even more intense. "You're doing so great, come on one more, baby~" His voice was low in your ears as his hips only grew in pace, making your eyes roll to the back; this was heaven. Quickly your last high was approaching, and with another thrust, he spilled in you as your fourth orgasm washed over you, your whole body trembling from overstimulation as his lips softly met yours in a kiss.

"Look at you, love, you did so well~" He slowly lets go of your legs before pulling out, mewling at the empty feeling now. "So pretty~" Kissing the tear streaks softly and rubbing them away with his fingers, your head was in the clouds, feeling his cum flow out of your used hole, eyes staring half-lidded at the ceiling. "Let's wash up." Picking you up softly, Yunho carries your bridal style to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilette to pee before helping you clean up and putting on some fresh underwear and a shirt of his own. "Was it okay? Not too much?" Your mind was slowly calming down again, looking at him with starry eyes full of love. "It was perfect." Hugging his neck as he carries you back to the room, quickly changing the sheets before cuddling close to you on the bed.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? If you didn't like it how we normally did it." His head looks down at you laying on his chest. Shaking your head in denial now. "I love the way you usually make love to me, but since Coachella and watching you at the tour, I just felt a bigger need; that doesn't mean I didn't like the other times." Smiling up at him, as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Glad to hear that; let's sleep now; you must be tired.. and probably not able to walk tomorrow." He giggles as you softly slap his naked chest, shaking your head before lying down again. Arms around each other, as you're lulled to sleep by his calm heartbeat. You definitely have to thank Wooyoung for his input.

[gigabyte-flare]

At Your Service

[A Gigabyte Flare One Shot]

Summary: You are the daughter of a wealthy family in New Eridu. Lycaon has been your loyal butler since you first moved out from your childhood home. You're about to find out just how far Lycaon is going to go to prove his devotion to you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Mild Yandere, implied r@cisim (not by reader or Lycaon), domestic violence (not by Lycaon), attempted SA (not by Lycaon), graphic violence, dubcon, oral (f receiving), pet names, playful biting, unprotected p in v, knotting, breeding kink, creampie

A/N: Just when I thought Jiyan from Wuthering Waves had me in a chokehold (he still does), Hoyo literally said "hold my beer." Does being down bad for Von Lycaon make me a furry? Probably. Do I care? Nope. He's hot and I can't get enough of him.

"As you can see, we had record profits this month. The campaign with the promoters definitely made a huge difference in our profit margin--"

You can't help but let out a loud sigh, resting the side of your face in the palm of you hand as your elbow keeps your head up as you stare into the webcam at your office computer. This is your last meeting of the day, heck, of the week. Unfortunately with the finance department of your family's business: a publishing company for video games and video tapes. Given how popular consumable media is in New Eridu, the business had taken off, you and your family now set for life. This also meant that your parents expected you to take over once they retire; you were still struggling to come to terms with that fact.

"-- that concludes this week's financial overview, I hope everyone has a good weekend!"

You waste no time turning off your webcam and shutting down your work computer. You couldn't get out of the office building fast enough. Getting into your car, you make the drive home to just beyond Sixth Street.

You live in one of the larger homes on the outskirts of New Eridu thanks to the success of your family's company. You park your car, getting out and approaching your front door. Before you even have a chance to dig your keys out of your pocket to unlock the door, your front door opens and you are greeted by your tall, imposing wolf Thiren butler: Von Lycaon of Victoria Housekeeping.

"Welcome home, my lady. I already have dinner started. I trust your day went well?"

"Hey Lycaon… it was alright," you reply as you step through the doorway, Lycaon stepping aside to let you through, "what's for dinner?"

You feel his deft clawed fingers help you take off your jacket before walking it over to the entryway closet to hang it up, his steel mechanical legs echoing in the entryway as he walks.

He answers you while hanging up your jacket, "roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and broccoli, my liege."

You chuckle, "you've been here for years, yet I still cannot get used to you addressing me like someone who's important."

Lycaon turns slightly just as he was about to shut the closet door, his red eye scrutinizing you, "but you are important, my lady."

You feel your cheeks tingle at his response, but quickly shake your head to compose yourself, "Do you… need any help with dinner?"

"I do not require any help. Not that I would trouble you with such trivial matters," he replies, walking away from the closet to head back into the kitchen.

"If you insist…" you hesitate; even after all this time, you're not accustom to having someone else doing all the house work, "I'll be in the living room watching TV. Come get me when dinner is ready, alright?"

Turning to you once more, Lycaon gives you a nod and a subtle smirk before walking into the kitchen. You don't realize your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away; watching the intricate parts on his prosthetic legs move as he walks, the way his right arm his bent behind him, his fist clenched, the way his large bushy tail wags gently as he--

You blink a few times, once again shaking your head and bringing your hand to your forehead.

Fucking hell, girl, get a hold of yourself. He's your freaking butler.

You turn and walk into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Leaning forward, you grab the remote off of the coffee table and turn the TV on, mindlessly scrolling through the channels before settling on some talk show. You don't focus on the show, instead, you pull out your phone and check your notifications. You notice you have a Knock Knock message from someone, so you open the notification bubble to check it.

"Hey! It's Steve, are we still on for dinner tomorrow?"

"Oh… that's right… I'm supposed to have dinner with that guy Mom hooked me up with…" you say to yourself, rolling your eyes before you type out your response.

"Yeah. Did you still want to pick me up from my house?"

You see the typing ellipses pop up a few times before his response comes through, "if you're comfortable with that, yeah!"

Normally, you would never let some strange man pick you up from your house to go on some blind date, but you know for a fact Lycaon wouldn't let anything happen to you; those mechanical prosthetic legs weren't just for show. You've witnessed first hand the damage they can do a handful of times in the years you've known him.

"My lady," you hear Lycaon call to you from the threshold of the living room, startling you from your thoughts, "my apologies, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no… it's fine. I'm guessing dinner is ready?" you reply, turning around to face him while still seated on the couch.

"Indeed. Would you like to eat in the dining room or here, my lady?" he asks as he straightens his posture.

"We can eat in here. Come watch TV with me Lycaon, I insist." you reply, waving him into the living room.

"As you wish, my lady, I shall plate dinner and bring it in here, one moment."

You watch as he gracefully turns around, walking out, the metallic rattle of his legs echoing as he returns to the kitchen. He returns promptly with two plates of food and utensils. He hands you your plate first before taking his own and sitting in a nearby chair. He crosses his legs, his large tail then settling onto his lap as be began to eat his meal. You waste no time digging in; you absolutely loved Lycaon's cooking and tonight was no exception. You're so focused on your meal that you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing another Knock Knock notification.

"I take it you don't want me to pick you up at your house…?"

"Oh shit…" you curse to yourself, having forgotten to respond to Steve.

You quickly text him to that it's fine and send him your address before gently setting your phone onto the coffee table.

"What was that all about, my lady?" Lycaon asks, as perceptive as ever, even while eating dinner.

"Oh nothing," you say, tucking your legs up onto the couch as you continue to eat dinner, "I'm just making plans with someone to go to dinner tomorrow night. I forgot to text him back."

"I see, should I plan to make dinner just for myself then?"

"No, set aside a plate for me… just incase the plan falls through…"

"As you wish, my lady."

The two of you continue to eat dinner in silence, your gaze unconsciously wandering over to him, lingering on his mechanical prosthetics before moving to the mask he wears on his face, which covers one of his crimson eyes. You've always wondered what had happened to him, but Lycaon never talks about himself and you didn't want to pry into something that is probably really painful for him.

Sensing your gaze on him, he clears his throat before speaking, "Is everything alright, my lady?"

"Oh--! Sorry, I was just zoning out…" you quickly retort before returning your attention to your meal.

Once the two of you are finished with your meal, you switch channels and watch the latest episode of Starlight Knights while Lycaon gets absorbed in a book. Exhaustion sinks its teeth into you suddenly and you fall asleep on the couch. Noticing this, Lycaon sets his book aside, standing up and scooping you into his arms before carefully carrying you to bed upstairs, his tail wagging gently the whole way there.

The next morning, you are pulled from your sleep by the smell of bacon. Your eyes slowly open and you stretch your arms out over your head, letting out a loud yawn as you do so. You glance over at the clock; it's nearly 10:00 in the morning. You're shocked Lycaon had let you sleep in this long. Upon setting your arms down in front of you, you come into contact with a breakfast tray. The food on it is still hot, Lycaon must have just brought it in. He made your favorite: waffles with fresh berries, syrup and bacon. You can't help but smile as you grab the nearby fork and dig in.

As you're eating, you suddenly realize you don't recall getting into bed last night, you were still wearing the outfit you had on yesterday. Lycaon must have carried you to bed… again. That's been happening more and more frequently, you feel terrible that he felt obligated to carry you to bed. Still, you feel a warmth in your chest thinking about him taking care of you; you guess that's only natural given he's been your butler for so long.

Your parents had insisted on hiring someone from Victoria Housekeeping when you decided to move out after buying a house, mainly for protection. Being the daughter of a prominent publishing giant came with its risks as you soon learned. As unnecessary as you found it at first, you were very grateful for Lycaon's protection and companionship. Even so, you were hesitant to admit you've caught feelings for the enigmatic butler; could anyone blame you though? Von Lycaon was legendary in both his services and his physical prowess; hence why your family hired him specifically. Only the best for their daughter.

Despite your complicated feelings for Lycaon, your mother insisted on playing match maker. This latest man she picked out is the first one you've entertained going on a date with, mainly to shut your mother up. You honestly had no desire to date anyone; you have everything you could possibly need right now, even with how you feel about your butler.

The rest of the day is uneventful and before you know it, the sun is setting, casting orange rays into your windows. Lycaon is in the kitchen doing up dishes when he hears a loud knock on the door. He stops, his gaze shifting to the front door as whoever is out there continues to knock. Letting out a low growl, he takes his hands out of the dishwater, drying them off before putting his fingerless gloves back on. Tucking one of his arms behind him, he approaches the front door, opening it. He is greeted by short human male, his brown hair greasy and slicked back with a red goatee that is haphazardly trimmed and rectangle glasses. The man's eyes widen upon seeing Lycaon, who is glaring down at him with a furrowed brow. The man tries to speak, but finds himself at a loss for words.

"What business do you have with my Master?" Lycaon asks, his tone dark, his threatening gaze unwavering.

"I… uh… I'm here to pick up… uh…" the male stammers, checking something on his phone.

"It's fine, Lycaon! I'm expecting him, his name is Steve!" Lycaon hears you call from within the house.

Upon hearing you come down the stairs from your bedroom, Lycaon turns to look at you as you approach the front door. You suddenly stop in your tracks upon seeing the man at the front door, your eyes wide.

He looks nothing like the photos your mother sent of him.

Sensing your unease, Lycaon goes to you, giving you a reassuring pat on your shoulder as he shifts to stand behind you, standing tall and puffing his pectoral muscles outward; almost as if he's asserting his dominance. You banish the thought; that'd be ridiculous, he's your butler for crying out loud!

"Is this the person you mentioned you were going to dinner with, my lady?" Lycaon asks, his crimson gaze still locked on Steve.

You nod, swallowing hard as you struggle to get your anxiety under control. Your mother probably sent an outdated picture. Everything will be fine.

It wasn't fine. Steve took you to some dimly lit dive in Lumina Square; you didn't even think a place this dingy could exist. You are not a vain person, but this place is absolutely abhorrent. Steve was rambling on and on about god knows what, you stopped listening awhile ago; wishing desperately to be home where a beautifully cooked meal would be waiting for you. You're glad that you had Lycaon make a plate for you.

"-- so, what's with the Thiren living with you?" Steve asks, ripping you from your thoughts.

Realizing he's asking about Lycaon, you sit up straight, setting your hands onto the table, "he's my butler, why?"

Steve scoffs, giving you a sly smirk, "he's awfully jacked to be just a butler. I've never seen a Thiren built like that."

"He is able to protect me if needed, if that's what you're getting at," you reply, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in your voice.

"You won't need him anymore," Steve says, that stupid smirk still on his face as he leans forward, resting his chin on one of his hands as he rests his elbow on the table.

You lean back, crossing your arms, "and why is that?"

"Because you have me now."

The silence that follows after Steve's statement could have been cut with a knife. You discreetly pull out your phone, opening the Knock Knock app and send a single message to Lycaon.

"Lumina Square please come."

"I don't recall telling you that we're dating," you finally break the silence as you look up at Steve, your heart pounding in your chest as your anxiety heightens.

"You didn't have to, you let me take you to dinner. It's clear you're now my girlfriend," Steve says, gazing at you like you're a slab of meat, "and I want you to get rid of that butler. I don't need some disgusting Thiren third wheeling us."

He's one of those people. Fucking great.

"Lycaon isn't going anywhere, thank you very much," you reply as you suddenly stand up from the table, making your way to the entrance of the restaurant, "this date is over."

Steve stands up, rushing over to you and grabbing you by the wrist, pulling you to him, "you're not going anywhere, sweetheart!"

The small handful of people in the restaurant just stare at the two of you as you struggle against Steve's grasp; no one makes a move to help you.

"Let go of me you greasy asshole!" you yell, spitting in his face.

Steve scowls, wiping your spit from his face before slapping you across the face. You cry out when his hand makes contact, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. One of Steve's hands grasps your back side, squeezing so hard that you know for certain it's going to bruise later. The other hand grabs your chin, forcing your head so it's facing his and he tries to kiss you.

The front door of the restaurant suddenly gets kicked in and you feel a familiar chill in the air. You don't need to look to know that your loyal butler has arrived.

"Get your filthy hands off my Master," Lycaon growls, his heavy steps quickly advancing.

Steve sucks in a breath, his eyes widening as he lets go of you, shoving you away. You can see that he's trembling, frozen in place. You notice a wet spot on his pants, right between his legs.

Oh my god… he's pissed himself.

You stifle a laugh at this realization as you watch Lycaon approach him. The individual parts on his mechanical legs popping out and coating in ice, cooling the air around him. You pick up the chatter around you.

"Isn't that the owner of Victoria Housekeeping?!"

"Yeah, that's Von Lycaon!"

"I wouldn't want to be that guy right now…"

Steve stumbles backwards as Lycaon stalks towards him, his posture confident and his right arm tucked behind him.

"Dude I'm sorry! I was desperate ok?! It won't happen again!"

"You're right," Lycaon growls, his eye shifting up at Steve, his gaze like a crimson dagger, "it won't."

Within a blink of an eye, Lycaon rushes forward, punching him in the gut. Steve hunches over, a splatter of blood coming out of his mouth. Lycaon brings up one of his legs, kneeing Steve in the face before bringing his other leg around to give him a roundhouse kick. You cry out along with the other patrons as Steve is hurled into the back of the restaurant, crashing against the wall so hard, it leaves a large indent in the wall where Steve's body made contact before crashing to the floor. For a moment, Steve doesn't move and you start to fear that Lycaon might have killed him; that is until Steve starts groaning, staggering while standing up.

"You… You hit like a bitch…" Steve groans, wiping the blood coming from his mouth.

You spot a subtle smirk form on Lycaon's lips as he walks towards Steve, ice once again gathering on his mechanical legs, several different parts starting to glow. He stands in front of Steve once more, who is now laughing nervously.

"Say that again, cretin. To my face."

Not so tough now that Lycaon is inches in front of him, Steve remains silent, his legs wobbling as he fights to keep himself standing up. You watch Steve swallow hard, seemingly building up his courage.

"You hit like a bi--"

If you had blinked, you would have missed Lycaon kicking straight upwards, causing Steve's head to violently snap backwards, an audible crack reverberating in the restaurant. Steve drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Lycaon takes a moment to brush himself off before turning around and walking up to you.

"Don't worry, my lady, he's not dead," he says, as if reading your mind as he gently takes your arm to lead you outside, "let's get you home."

The first thing Lycaon had done once the two of you had gotten home was start the shower for you. You have no idea how much time has passed since you stepped inside, letting the hot water fall on you as you silently cry. You should have listened to your gut when you realized Steve looked nothing like the photo your mother had sent you. That is the last time you let your mother play match maker. You felt awful that Lycaon had to basically come rescue you. There's no doubt your father is going to catch wind about what happened, especially considering the amount of damage Lycaon had caused in the restaurant.

You'll worry about that later. Right now, all you wanted to do was get cleaned up and go to sleep. You turn the shower off, pushing the shower curtain aside to step out, but you stop yourself. You find one of your bathrobes folded neatly on the counter next to the sink, but that's not all. A single red rose is placed on top of the folded robe. You carefully step out of the shower, approach the bathroom counter, gingerly pick up the rose and twirl it in your fingers slowly; the rose having been meticulously de-thorned.

Lycaon…?

Another spot of red in the corner of your eye catches your attention. Turning to look, you see that there is a trail of red rose petals on the floor that leads out of the bathroom. You take the robe and put it on, wrapping it around your nude body and tying it before you follow the trail of rose petals. Upon opening the bathroom door, you are once again stunned, too frozen in shock to move. The rose petals lead straight to your bed, the plush white comforter not only covered in petals, but with whole roses like the one you found in the bathroom; there's at least twenty of them, if not more.

You hesitantly walk towards your bed, your heart pounding in your chest. Did Lycaon do this? He must have, who else would have, you're the only two people in the house. But why? What does this mean? Your breaths are heavy, causing your chest to heave as you look down at your bed. You place your hand over your heart in an attempt to calm yourself. Surely, he's just trying to cheer you up after your horrific date. That must be it.

"My lady."

You suck in a breath at the sound of Lycaon's voice, slowly turning around to face him. Standing in the doorway, you immediately notice he's not wearing his signature vest, but just the white button up shirt he typically wears beneath the vest, the sleeves still rolled up to his elbows along with his black pants. The shirt is unbuttoned halfway, a tuft of fur spilling from his shirt. You feel your mouth hang slightly agape as your eyes run up and down Lycaon's form.

"If I had known you were going on a date with that… filth, I wouldn't have let you go."

He slowly approaches you, the sultry look in his eye erasing any doubts of his intentions; the sound of his mechanical legs walking across the floor echoing in your head as he approaches. You unconsciously take a step back away from him, the back of your legs hitting the foot of the bed.

"My liege," he whispers, the backs of his fingers gently caressing the side of your face, "there is no need to be alarmed. Unlike that disgusting drivel, I would never hurt you."

His fingers gently dance across your jaw line, moving downwards until he reaches your throat. You swallow hard as his fingers gingerly wrap around your neck, "that is unless… you want me to hurt you."

You watch his eye darken, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips as his fingers delicately squeeze the pulse points on your neck.

"Lycaon we… we shouldn't do this. If my father finds out--"

"To hell with your father," he growls, stepping closer to you, "I've seen how you look at me, my lady; the way your eyes linger on me when you think I'm not looking."

His hand moves from your throat, sliding down to rest onto your chest, right over your racing heart, "I know you want this as much as I do."

Your head is spinning, being pushed and pulled between all your complicated feelings. You do want this. As much as you want this, he's your butler under your family's employ, you know it's wrong. You hesitantly shake your head.

Lycaon lets out a low chuckle, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I can smell your arousal, my lady. You should know more than anyone that you can't fool me."

Wrapping one of his arms around your waist, he tenderly coaxes you to lay back onto the bed, his muzzle buried into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he cages you with his body. His hands grasp onto your thighs, gingerly spreading your legs apart so he can settle himself between them. You can feel him grazing his teeth along the side of your neck, to your jawline until his lips linger just in front of yours.

With a deep breath, you finally give in to your desires, kissing him deeply as your hands run up his chest. Your fingers find the buttons on his shirt and begin to unbutton them, his shirt falling open once you undo the last button. As your hands massage his chest, you can feel the toned muscle under his soft fur. Letting out a groan, Lycaon deepens your kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours.

You feel like the kiss lasts an eternity and let out a soft whimper when he breaks the kiss. He lets out a low chuckle as he leans down, kissing your collar bone as he unties your robe, pushing off you. Once your body is exposed, he trails kisses between your breasts, over your stomach until you can feel his warm breath over your folds.

"From this moment on, I will be the only man touching you," he states, his gaze locked on yours has he runs his tongue through your folds before continuing, "if a man so much as breathes on you, I will snap him in half like a twig."

Between his ministrations on your cunt and his words, you're completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lay your head against the mattress; your pussy walls fluttering around nothing. You hear another low chuckle from Lycaon.

"Oh? Do you like that, my liege? Do you like it when I protect you?" he asks with a playful tone.

He doesn't allow you to answer, however, because he immediately seals his lips around your throbbing clit, gingerly taking it between his teeth and caressing it with his tongue, reveling in the sound of the loud moans coming from you as he does so. You dig your heels into the bed as your hands grip the sheets. Your legs trembling, a strained cry comes out of you as you finally come undone on his tongue. Lycaon eagerly laps up your release.

"My lady, you're as succulent as the sweetest fruit," he says softly, licking your release from his lips as he begins to climb back on top of you.

He hooks both of his arms under your thighs, draping your legs onto his shoulders as he looms above you. Staring down at you longingly, he begins undoing the belt on his pants with one hand. Your eyes widen when he pulls out his member. It's massive, easily the biggest you've ever laid eyes on. You can't help but also notice the large knot at the base, causing your heart to flutter.

Is he going to fit?!

Leaning back on his haunches, he spits on your pussy, using his fingers to massage his saliva into your folds before leaning back on top of you. You can feel his cock prod at your entrance, causing your heart to race in anxiety and anticipation.

"Tell me if it's too much, ok?" he whispers as he moves his hips forward.

You nod, sucking in a breath as you feel him penetrate you, his girth filling you up perfectly. As he begins to thrust, you watch his tail begin to wag back and forth, teasing a smile from you. His lips once again lock with yours, kissing you deeply as he fucks you with steady and even thrusts. Moaning softly into his kiss, you run your hands up his chest, then up the sides of his neck before settling on each side of his face, your hips moving in time with his.

He feels absolutely heavenly inside you, your walls squeezing his cock as it bullies its way deeper and deeper. He abruptly stops and pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach before lining his member back up with your throbbing cunt.

"I'm going to breed this beautiful pussy." he says, sheathing himself back inside you up to his knot, "fill you up with all my pups. Would you like that, my liege?"

He begins to thrust again, more aggressively this time. Each thrust forcing his knot into you, stretching you. You nod weakly as more moans spill out of you and before long, his knot is finally fully inside, creating a seal. It's a little painful at first, but that is quickly replaced by the intense pleasure coursing through your body as he pounds into you. Letting out a growl, he bites into your shoulder as his thrusts become sporadic.

You cry out is name, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you claw the sheets with your fingers, your second orgasm barreling towards you. With one final thrust, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he can possibly go without hurting you, shooting his load straight into your womb, painting your insides white with his seed. Your whole body is trembling from your release, your walls squeezing him as his cock continues to throb inside you.

You feel Lycaon's tongue lap where he had bit into your shoulder before nuzzling your cheek with his, his powerful arms wrapping around you, "are you alight, my lady?"

You turn to him, kissing him on the cheek unable to get the huge smile off your face, "more than alight, Lycaon."

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

[byuntrash101]

realistic sex with mingi

mingi x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: mingi is the second entry to this series where i try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

first i wanna say loyal af. like he probably simped for you for a while before daring to even speak to you so now that he's got you he's not interested in anyone else. 

he will literally place in every conversation with a stranger that he has a gf within the first few minutes just so everything is clear.

also it helps that he just constantly wanna brag about you/show you off (more on that later). because he’s just so proud he pulled you.

mingi makes his intentions KNOWN. that man is taken thank you very much

he wears his heart on his sleeves and it shows when he's dating and i think that's why he sucks at flirting when he actually cares. if he's crushing on you he'll be all clumsy and will try to do too much to impress you by doing/being too much. eg: laughing super loud at jokes, or if you are with a group of friends he would find a way to make everyone quiet so you can speak (also will find a way to always be the one sitting next to you)

if it's just a fling for a confidence boost and he has no real interest in the person then he'll be so smooooooth, literally rizz over 9000. we’re talking full on witty/flirty remarks, attentive sharp eyes and sinful lip biting morphing into the most stunning smile you’ve ever seen.

but not with you nuh huh. the man was a mess either too selfconscious to speak or just ending up saying something really cringe (which he thought about for weeks after)

but eventually he got to score you for himself

that's why he absolutely loves skinship. he wants to hold your hand, have you play with his hair all the time. he wants to have his big hand on your thigh (we'll talk more about that later wink wonk) when you're sitting next to him. and he doesn't care if people are around. pda is his middle name. (definitely pda line with san and woo)

he will literally kiss you like his life depends on it in front of whoever wants to see. (actually he might even like have an audience wink wonk again)

i feel mingi enjoys lazy sex. he loves to take you when you're both laying on your side.  he likes that this way he gets to hold your hips. curl his fingers around your thighs and pull you back on his cock over and over again while he peppers you with kisses in the crook of your neck moaning just for you right in your ear

but what this man really loves is when you are on top. i’m convinced he's a switch. He can dom or sub but if he doms then you'll have to be a power bottom.

he just loves seeing you on top.

he truly believes under you is his rightful place. there or between your legs (more on that laterrrr)

needless to say he's a sub leaning switch but that being said he's not into anything very rough (especially not on the receiving end).

but he definitely has it in him. he can be really rough if you know how to push his buttons right

speaking of which that is not through jealousy

if he sees you flirting with someone else i don't think it will tap into his possessiveness. well it might but it won't have the desired effect. it will only make him insecure and maybe he will feel like he's losing you. so please don't make our giant baby jealous he'll only be sad.

(i think that would absolutely do the trick on joong, woo and 2ho)

no if you want him to rail you like a train i think you have to use one specific tactic for maximum domification effect: tapping into his voyeurism/exhibitionism thing

i feel like he would love for you to be risky in public like i said mingi is proud of you and he loves to show you off. he is def the type to like to have an audience. i think there's a little voyeurism/exhibitionism hiding in him somewhere. so tap into that to get him really going.

maybe lift up your skirt for him while grocery shopping or like whisper to him that you're not wearing any underwear while at the dinner table with all the members better yet one up that statement by discreetly slipping the undergarment into his hand. i guarantee he’ll become hard on the spot. if you start stroking his thighs (an innocent token of affection for the others) he will start leaking for you too. getting red in the face and blaming it on the alcohol when the others point it out.

if you’re really daring (and you really want him to go crazy on you after) brush your hand over his hard on but that’s risky because he just might jerk his hips up so powerfully (unintentionally ofc) that it will knock over your soju glasses.

but that’s the perfect excuse to bring him to the bathroom pretending he got some soju on his pants… (smirking evilly)

but yeah just be a little secretly naughty just for him. 

and now that he’s got you for himself it’s all over for you

he'll tear your clothes the second he can. making you take him hard and deep and manhandling you

bending you over the bathroom sink and pushing his big fat cock into your already pulsing little pussy. scoffing at you when he swipes his tip through your folds only to realize you are soaking wet.

“look at you. getting all wet from being a little brat all night”

the second he bottoms out he lets out the lowest of groans and snakes his fingers in your hair, lifting your head and making you look at yourself in the mirror.

"that's what you wanted right?" "i should have bent you over the table and taken you right there in front of all of them" 

he probably made you cum embarrassingly fast too "looked at your fucked out face, baby. you talked a big game but is that really all you got?" then proceeds to fuck you some more just to overstim you <3

dklajdlskslskdb

but i think he naturally gravitates towards subbing. he can and will dom but he prefers being taken care of (a princess <3) so if you're a dom by nature that's completely fine by him

one thing is certain mingi needs LOTS OF PRAISE. just watch his face melt when you tell him what a good job he does. the low groans turning into high pitched whimpers every time you call him your good boy. 

“you’re doing so good for me baby” “you feel so good inside me”

he will literally bury his face in your neck and muffle his whines on your skin.

and that's it he’s gone. done for. 

another big thing about this big man: ORAL

eating you out

mingi's purpose is to be between your legs. he loves to eat you out. hwa and him are the members that like it the most. but contrary to hwa that takes advantage of the absolutely fantastic muscle he has in his mouth mingi uses another advantage. which is his beautiful nose. mingi loves to actually fuck you with his whole face. he will slip his tongue into your center while rubbing his nose on your clit. 

or better yet he will have you sit on his face. and just so we’re clear when he says sit on it. he means SIT. he wants to suffocate in your juices, your thighs tightly wrapped around his head. he wants you to use him. he wants to feel your arousal dripping in his eager mouth and your taste clouding his mind. he wants to lose himself into you. he loves to feel your thrusts against his face, struggling to breathe every chances he gets. feeling drag you swollen clit over his mouth and nose and throbbing when your close. there’s nothing he likes more.

but mingi loves oral in general he also absolutely loves to be in your mouth

and the primary reason for this is very simple EYE CONTACT. he loves that. he loves to see you look at him. he wants to be your whole world (because you surely are his everything) and he loves to have your undivided attention. (that man just loves attention i mean have you seen him on stage? Doing all the scandalous body rolls just to wreck every bias list in the venue. literally the most leo move he can pull smh)

other reason why he loves to be in your mouth is because this man be packing the big gunsss proud member of big dick line with yunho

he loves to see you struggle to take him all in your mouth and loves to see your watery eyes and he likes it SLOPPY. Just go to town on his big fat cock. Really don't be shy. Use a lot of spit and changing of pace and don’t forget the balls. maybe edge him a little i think he might like it too. just imagine the beautiful noises you can pull out of him if you keep him on the edge for a while. until he caves in and just begs so sweetly for you <3

“pleasepleasepleaseplease” when he feels he’s close then sigh in disappointment when you take your mouth off him once again. So he bucks his hips up trying so bad to have your mouth around him again, his tip red and leaking for you. “please wanna cum so bad. pleaseplease i’ll do anything please let me cum”

all the while looking you dead in the eyes. he looks so cute his face all flushed and his mouth agape. he wouldn’t dare to take his eyes off yours for a second because he loves to see that smirk of yours spread on your lips. he wants to look at you all the time.

thats why mingi never wants to fuck in the dark in wants to see you (unlike hwa who loves to see you ofc but he needs to hear you)

and that's also why his favorite position is cowgirl!!!! he just loves looking at you make yourself feel good using his cock. he loves to look at your face, your chest, your body. just all of you using him. 

he gets to see your breasts bounce on your chest with every thrust. he gets to see you arch your back and your jaw fall open when you get close and gets to see your skin glisten under a light sheen of sweat. he gets to see your nails leaving beautiful marks on his pecs. the undeniable proof that he belongs to you. because that’s exactly what he wants to be. he wants to feel like your toy.

when it comes to the sounds. i don't think mingi is very vocal.... with words that is because yes you WILL absolutely hear him. when he's on top/in control. It's lots of deep, guttural groans. i mean the man can go deeeeeep with his voice (and his dick) so i feel like he'll do just that.

he's not the one doing the dirty talk but HE LOVES to hear you saying all those nasty things (hence the praising from earlier). It's literally the only time he'll shut up to let you do all the talking. so do that. that will make him absolutely crazy for you.

and when he gets close or he’s subbing the groans turn into high pitched whines. mingi can go really high pitched (cfr. the way he screams when he's scared in wanteez) so you know instantly when he's about to cum. right when he is on the edge i think is the right time to be a little rougher if you're on top. maybe choke him or pull his hair. he would really love that. but don't be too rough either, especially with words.

he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. but what he really likes is when you choose. he loves to hear you say "i want you to fill me up with your cum" or "you can cum in my mouth baby" he will bust instantly at those commands. because you got him wrapped around your fingers and he knows and can’t get enough.

but when you say "you're doing so well for me my baby as a reward i'll let you cum where you want" then be certain he's going to pick your face almost every time. and don't close your eyes. look at him! he loves to cum for you. he wants you to see that. 

afterwards you better big spoon him to sleep because he deserves it <3

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

want to see another member? request it in the comments or asks <3

realistic sex with seonghwa, with yunho, with wooyoung, with san | ateez masterlist | navigation

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Reasons why we know there's something wrong with Grandpa:

• believes immigrants are eating their neighbors pets because he heard someone say it on TV (without any evidence) • thinks injecting disinfectant into our veins might be a good idea. (It's definitely not, don't try it.) • claims America's F35 fighter jet is completely invisible, even if you're right next to it (like Wonder Woman's plane)

• praises white supremacists and KKK members who were chanting antisemitic hate speech, calling them "very fine people" • focuses on imaginary issues like preventing children from changing gender while at school, but ignores real problems like school shootings • thought it was a good idea to give away our desperately needed Covid test machines to our adversary ("Grandpa, what have you done?" — he can't be left alone for a minute) • decided to believe Putin's lies, but dismiss findings from America's intelligence agencies • claims America had airplanes during the Revolutionary War

• believes in the Nazi ideology that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country," and says some migrants are actually subhuman "animals" • insisted that the U.S. would have fewer coronavirus cases if it conducted less testing (yes, a U.S. president in charge of controlling the crisis, actually said something this inept, repeatedly) • due to his incompetence and lies during the Covid crisis, the U.S. had one of the highest rates of Covid deaths in the world • thinks windmills cause cancer and kill whales • speaks endlessly about his concerns re: dying by electrocution from a boat battery or being eaten by a shark

• thinks he's above the law and, as president, should be able to commit as many crimes as he wants • is a billionaire who whines about how badly he's been treated, then he's chauffeured to his private jet • likes to discuss Arnold Palmer's penis • after NINE years of repeatedly promising to unveil his Healthcare Plan "very soon," he admits he still has no real plan —only "concepts of a plan" • has a bizarre attraction to the fictional cannibal and serial killer, Hannibal Lector (why? no one knows —and everyone's afraid to ask)

• advocates dangerous plots, like using the military against Americans who disagree with him, or using the DOJ to arrest them, or just telling people to "beat the crap out of them" and he'll pay their legal fees • thinks having a national day of violence is a good idea (we should never have let Grandpa watch "The Purge") • wants to be the "law and order president," yet this 34 time convicted felon incites people to riot and to commit criminal acts of violence • unable to take the loss of an election like a man, he had a temper tantrum like a toddler, that culminated in a treasonous insurrection

⠀This guy is so delusional, he claims he's a genius because he often speaks incoherently in something he calls "the Weave." Here are two examples: • "How disgusted were all when we see all of us are when we see three days ago when we viewed their parade." Asheboro, NC, 8/21/24 • When asked, "What specific legislation will you commit to, to make child care affordable?" He responded, “Well, I would do that, and we’re sitting down, you know; I was, somebody, we had Senator Marco Rubio and my daughter, Ivanka, who was so impactful on that issue. ...But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about that because the childcare is childcare, couldn’t, you know, there’s something you have to have it, in this country you have to have it.” New York, NY, 9/5/24 ⠀If this was anybody else's Grandpa, the family would be having discussions about who's going to go with Grandpa to the doctor to find out what's wrong with him, and who's going to be in charge of finding him a nice convalescent home to live in. ⠀My suggestion is that it might be a good idea to elect a president who has no cognitive impairment and can tell the difference between reality and delusions. Personally, I think that's a rather important quality in a president.

[chris-prank]

Doctor Seraph kidnaps hero reader for good -

Oneshot 

Villain sidekick yandere x GN hero reader

Warning: slight NSFW allusion, kidnapping, creepy behavior and forced proximity

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

You opened your eyes, only to be met with darkness. Your figure was the only thing lit in the room. You could feel the restraint around your wrists and legs. They weren’t hurting you, but they were still tight enough to prevent you from moving. Then in the silence, broken up by your own breathing, a soft voice rose from the pitch black in front of you. 

“I hope your head doesn’t hurt too much…”

The hidden figure partially walked into the light, presenting you with someone that definitely didn’t look like a criminal. He was wearing a white knitted cardigan with gold embroideries on the sleeves and a black t-shirt under it. The reflection of the light in his glasses prevented you from seeing his eyes. It took you a good second to recognize him, but the situation in which you had found yourself gave you no doubt. The sound of his voice paired with his crazy curly hair tied back into a ponytail was all too familiar.

“Doctor… Seraph?” You tentatively asked. 

He smiled sheepishly and fully walked into your view, his feet almost touching yours from how close you two were now. 

“I’m flattered th-that you recognized me so quickly.” 

“What’s up with the civilian clothes? Is this some kind of off day kidnapping?” 

“What? Oh heavens no! I just thought it was best to show you my identity… to make it fairer for you.”

“Fairer?”

It took a moment for your brain to register what he meant, but that’s when you realize the lack of fabric around your eyes. You weren’t wearing your mask. Your stomach dropped. You were already imagining disaster scenarios where your family and friends would now be at the mercy of all the criminals you fought over the years.

“I didn’t even tell you my real name! What an inconsiderate host I am.” He gave himself a face palm, “you can call me Vincent.”

“Why… Why are you telling me all this? What do you gain from this?” You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, “is this some sick mind game before telling everyone who I am?”

You didn’t care to be hurt, to be kidnapped or tortured as long as your friends and relatives stayed safe. 

“Sharing your secret identity!? Never!” He sounded genuinely surprised, “it wouldn’t be really nice of me to do that to the person I love, don't you think?”

He got closer to wipe away the tears from your cheeks and excused himself for the misunderstanding he had caused. You tried to recoil from his touch all the while giving him a pure look of confusion at this sudden confession. 

“Don’t worry, I k-know that you feel the same way! You always were so gentle and kind to me compared to… the others.” He stuck his tongue out as if he was just reminded of the taste of spoiled milk, “But let’s forget about everyone else, we have each other now.”

He got on his knees as he said the last part and rested his head on your laps. He made a sound scarily similar to a moan while rubbing his cheek against the fabric. He stared up at you through his glasses and gave you a loving smile, but it quickly turned into an awkward one when he realized you couldn’t pet his head.

“Sorry about the restraints… I just can’t have you escape.” 

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know what to do or say. He took your silence as something positive, since he straddled himself onto your lap and nuzzled his head into your neck. His warm breath grazing your skin was overwhelming all of your senses. 

“You’re the first person to make me feel loved in such a long time.” He whispered with deep longing.

You could feel your heartbeat all the way into your throat, making you nauseous. You were attracted to him, no need to deny that, but this was going way too fast. That’s when it clicked in your brain.

“I don’t want to be with a criminal.”

He leaned back to look you in the eyes, shocked by your statement. 

“W-what?”

“I don't want us to be together if you’re still a supervillain.” You repeated confidently. 

“So…if I reform we can be a couple?”

“Yes!”

It was cliche, but you subtly crossed your fingers, hoping that it would be a good enough compromise for him. Vincent frowned, thinking about it for a good minute. 

“B-but they’ll put me in prison… and I-I won't be able to be with you–” He got agitated, as if the simple idea of being apart from you was a punishment in itself.

“Don't worry! You’ve never been as bad as your boss, people will surely accept you with open arms.” You swiftly added, “and if not, I’ll say that you’re under my charge.”

He stared at you with dilated pupils and a heavy breath. 

“You promise…That you will defend me from them?”

As soon as you nodded he went back to nuzzling his head into your neck and pushed his body closer to yours. You could feel something oddly hard poking at your stomach. 

“I knew you r-really cared about me.” He whispered. 

After a few minutes of silence, only being broken by small happy noises he let out during this forced cuddle session, you spoke up. 

“Can you untie me? It would be nicer if I could embrace you back, don’t you think?” You forced yourself to sound casual despite the amount of stress you were under. 

Vincent chuckled in response, causing goosebumps to sprang over your arms. He reacted as if you just asked a silly question. 

“I can’t do that…I know you truly love me, but I-I also know that there’s still a part of you… that wants to escape and stop me.” He shook his head. “You just can’t help it, my little hero.” 

You forced yourself to make an understanding smile. 

This was going to be a long ride. 

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

🔎 chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long”

🔎 chapter two: “did the love affair mail you too?”

chapter three: “you kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath” -> chapter four

summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

word count: +5k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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arthurleclerc: AAAAAAAAAA need your feedback asap

arthurleclerc: which chapter are you on already? I cried on chapter 9 😭😭😭 so sad

arthurleclerc: i can't believe you're reading it tho

arthurleclerc: it's a beautiful book

arthurleclerc: she is really good with words i mean i SOBBED

arthurleclerc: when she said 'you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath. That's the difference. I was never important enough for you' let that shit sink in HEAVY

arthurleclerc: AND chapter 4????? Describes being in love so well it gave me chills i was thinking about carla the whole time

carlossainz: 🤨🤨🤨🤨 didnt know MY FRIEND charles READ ?????????

carlossainz: OH WAIT

landonorris: r u mad with me? I promise i won't hit on your ex 😔

landonorris: stop ignoring me charlie please 😭

⋆˚࿔𝜗𝜚˚⋆

He needed to be alone. It took him a few days to actually convince himself of reading it. After that nigh, he only could think of that fucking phrase: “just between us, did the love affair maim you too?”.

He took it personally. It did maim him. Of course it did. It still haunts him until now. Maybe Arthur was right. Maybe he needed to read that book to make a decision, whatever it may be, he had the feeling something was gonna change if he did. So he decided to take his yacht alone, and read, and spend time with himself. To reflect. He needed that.

The monaco sea was calmed so unlike he was in that moment, eyeing the pages rumbling around the thought of what was about to come when he started reading it for real. The sun was shining trying to keep him warm he thought, but he was shivering way too much by his liking. He found himself trapped in that feeling again. That feeling of not wanting to see the truth, to read how much he hurt her. 

But, maybe it was all fictional, right? Maybe Arthur didn't say it like it was about him, right? Maybe it was just another romance story of heartbreak. He shouldn’t take it so personally. It was not a big deal. He sighed. He didn't know what to believe but stopped hesitating much and jumped straight into chapter one. He ignored the greetings page. His anxiety just couldn't hold any more suspense. 

⋆˚࿔ the initial impact: the recognition of what he once was𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣 “chapter one: through the doorway it’s where all begun” 

“The story begins with the protagonist walking through the door of her lover’s life for the first time. The air is cold and sharp, autumn biting at her cheeks, but there’s something warm and inviting in the atmosphere, something inexplicably familiar. She is a stranger in this house, yet she feels oddly at home. His sister’s voice carries from the kitchen, and laughter filters through the walls. 

The protagonist is nervous, her fingers clutching the scarf around her neck as if it’s her last piece of armor. She’s stepping into a new world—his world—and is eager yet afraid of what she’ll find. Her lover greets her with a smile that melts her tension. His sweet disposition calms her. He notices the little things—how she shivers, how she blushes, how she hesitates before hanging her scarf by the door. That scarf, left behind by accident later that night, becomes a symbol of the connection they’re building, a connection that feels like fate but is still so fragile.”

After reading the first chapter he just couldn’t function properly. Or that was what he believed in that moment. He felt reflected in that damn character. Recognizing himself through her eyes made him gutted. All the moments she described felt our memories described in so profound detail turned into poetry. His body hair bristled. It was indeed him. Not only physical description but the way he talks to her, those words are specific. He called her ‘cheri’. The way he used to call her. The way he described it all blew his mind. The way she portrayed the first initial moment of your story together. He started to feel like an idiot. He knew you loved him for real, but this just confirms it. The chapter felt like watching an old picture, he could identify when and where but with these many details and specific feelings, it gives the picture another meaning. It's not only a memory. The memory of you became a piece of art. His heart was racing and a knot formed in his throat. He wasn’t  sure if keeping on reading will help him in any way, but curiosity was stronger than he thought and pushed him for another one. At the same time he wondered why he was doing this to himself, but it shows just how he did not close this chapter of his life at all. She was still there hunting him. She was always in the back of his mind.he could hear her talk when he slept. She was still real in his head. By the way, reading all of that just felt like yesterday. 

⋆˚࿔A profound nostalgia for it all𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣 ‘chapter two: the forgotten scarf’

‘Months later, the scarf sits in his drawer, forgotten by her but cherished by him. He doesn’t admit to anyone that he keeps it there, hidden under his old T-shirts. For him, it represents the innocence of their beginning, a time when love was simple and pure.

For her, the scarf is a fleeting memory. She remembers leaving it at his sister’s house but doesn’t think much of it. Yet every time the cold wind brushes against her neck, she feels its absence. She misses something she can’t name, and the scarf—though she doesn’t know it—is tied to that feeling. This chapter reflects on the weight of small objects and how they hold memories that people cannot let go of, even when the relationships tethered to them unravel.’

He was sure this chapter was fictional but he was really impressed by the way she portrayed the two faces of the same coin represented by the scarf that was left behind. He kind of thought about all of the presents he gave you, did you still have them? How did they make you feel? Did you still remember the backstory of every single one of them? Or maybe you just burned them after what he did to you. 

🧣 ‘chapter three: an upstate scape’

‘It’s a spontaneous road trip, one of those unplanned adventures that make life feel limitless. They’re driving upstate, the roads winding through fiery autumn landscapes. The protagonist’s wide-eyed wonder contrasts with his confident ease as he navigates the unfamiliar terrain.

They roll the windows down, letting the cold air rush in, mixing with the sound of their voices as they sing along to an old playlist. She looks at him, studying the way his hands grip the steering wheel, how his profile looks against the golden light of the setting sun. For a moment, she believes this is what happiness looks like—two people lost in the simplicity of the moment, away from the world.

As they stop by the side of the road to admire the leaves, she feels a sense of inevitability, as if everything in her life has led to this moment. But there’s an undercurrent of fear too—what if something so perfect is too good to last?’

He had a few tears stuck to his eyes. The way she described that road trip to the mountains just out of curiosity and wanting to get away from all of your responsibilities. You described it just like it happened but put all of your feelings around it. Now, he really knows how you’ve always felt about him back then. If he had any doubts about it, they wear clear ice now. You felt that love looked like him, in that moment, right there, with him. He made you feel happy and he rapid you like that? He just let himself cry. He actually hated himself so much at this moment. 

He couldn’t bear the feeling of what he actually did to you. Because even back then he had already met Alex, because she was a friend of a guy who was friends with him around that time. She was there, he saw her. Yet, he still came back to you everytime until he couldn't resist the temptation. He cheated on you. But that was something he promised to bury with himself. Now, there was no point in mentioning it. He can pretend it never existed. That’s what he thought was the best for everyone. The only one who knew it was Alex and he knew her all too well that she wouldn't be able to say it either because she doesn't look good at all as well. 

He stopped reading. He couldn't anymore, at least for now. He came back to the city, wanting to run away to his house and hide between his pillows. He was a 35 year old man with teenage emotional issues. He felt a bit ashamed. But who could blame him? He dedicated his whole life to racing. That was his job. He didn't have time to reflect on his life decisions until he had to retire due to knee injury during his, actually, last race here, in monaco. How ironic, where everything began, everything ended. 

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The house was really quiet when he arrived. The weather was colder than expected. Wind started to blow a bit violently. He closed all of his windows and got into his pajamas. He wasn’t that hungry so that was all for the day. He took the book with him, not sure if he wanted to keep reading but he saw Arthur's messages to his story on instagram and he stayed rambling about it. What if he took just a few minutes to read the following chapter and break his heart for once and all? Was he scared? Yes, he was scared to death. She was in fact way too good with words, touching all of his soft or injured spots. 

He sled into bed making himself comfortable, as if it could keep him sane. He grabbed a pillow to hug and the book after putting on his reading glasses. He needed to hold something onto him. He felt really lonely. He felt miserable. He lost you over stupid and superficial feelings, when you were there waiting for him to marry you. 

He didn’t know if he’ll be able to forgive himself for it.

⋆˚࿔The pain of feeling reflected𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣  ‘chapter four: are you real?’

‘The story takes a deeper dive into their personalities. The protagonist is curious and eager, a dreamer who sees beauty in the smallest details. She notices the way his laugh lines crease when he smiles and the tenderness in his voice when he talks about his family. She feels like a child discovering the world through him.

He is steady and calm, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that she can’t quite place. He has a sweet disposition that masks his fear of vulnerability. This chapter explores how they balance each other—her lightness lifting his heaviness, his groundedness keeping her from floating away.

Their differences are part of what draws them together, but as the chapter closes, subtle hints suggest that these differences might also be what pulls them apart.’

🧣 ‘chapter five: the begging of the end’ 

‘A seemingly insignificant moment becomes pivotal. They’re driving through a quaint little town, the kind of place where time feels slower. She’s pointing out the decorations in the shop windows when he glances over at her, his eyes filled with something unspoken.

“Watch the road!” she laughs, but her heart skips a beat. He almost runs a red light, and they both burst into nervous laughter. The thrill of it, the recklessness, mirrors the intensity of their feelings.

As they walk down the town’s main street later, hand in hand, she feels invincible. The wind tangles her hair, and the crisp air fills her lungs. It’s a moment she knows she’ll remember forever, even if she doesn’t understand why it feels so significant at the time.’

🧣 ‘chapter six: enough for you’ 

‘This chapter brings the reader into his family home, a place filled with the echoes of his childhood. His mother pulls out a photo album, eager to share stories. The protagonist learns about the little boy he used to be—a shy kid with glasses who loved baseball but never quite fit in.

As she listens, she starts to piece together the man she loves, seeing how his past shaped him. But she also feels a pang of sadness. He talks about his dreams, but there’s a hesitation in his voice, as if he’s unsure of his place in the world. She wonders if she can be the person who helps him find it, but the weight of that responsibility begins to settle on her.’

Between a few lines he had to take breaks.but he couldn't stop reading. He needed more and more, addicted to the words and how she portrayed his attitudes towards her. Feeling addicted to the pain of seeing himself like that. He was an asshole. All because he believed something that was a lie he fabricated to private himself of something real. To push her away. To Protect him from getting hurt. What you had was beautiful but he had to break it. It was too beautiful to be real, he thought. He was insecure and scared. Scared of how much feelings he had for you and how much power that implied. He read every single page slowly, catching up every reference to you, to him, to what you called ‘ours’ so dearly. He fucked it up. He really fucked it up. 

He just needed a break from it. He decided to take a shower and go to sleep or try to. Now, he couldn't stop seeing your face with mascara falling down your face along with your tears the day he left. The day he left you and all of his most vulnerable parts of him with you. 

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Two days passed by really quickly in his opinion. He couldn’t dare to read another word from that fucking book until now. He woke up feeling ready again to confront the worst part of it. And to do so, as he likes to be his own biggest enemy, he went to the coffee shop that once was the restaurant he left you behind in. It was a pretty masochistic maneuver. But he didn't care anymore. After what he read the other day, his heart was already broken knowing how much he broke you down and didn't realize it sooner. 

It was a really cold, windy and grey day in monaco. He hated this weather so much. He went by foot, taking his time to do some breathing techniques that could help his anxiety. He looked dead in his opinion. Immsonio has been his best friend these past few days. He just didn't want to close his eyes knowing all he would see was your face. How you didn't smile at him back that afternoon. How you cried when he left you for another woman. And your smile when he asked you the first time. It's been 10 years, yet he didn't forget about the way your skin felt when he touched you, what used to be your favorite movie and how he always remembered you when he passed by a flower shop because you used to love flowers so much. And as his mission used to be to make you happy, he would buy you flowers everyday if he could. 

He slapped himself out of his mind when he realized he was thinking too much about you and the past, torturing himself with every random memory he could come up with. He really felt his brain hated him even though he is the one in control anyway. 

He stepped in the coffee shop making the bell on the door sound. It was chilly and there were only a few people. Fortunately it wasn't crowded so if he cried no one would notice. 

He chose to sit at the last table, on the darkest corner. He wanted to feel safe, and that spot made him feel he was very well hidden. He was playing so many mind games just to survive his own mind and emotions lately. 

He got comfy on his chair made out of chiffon. It was good, he thought. He was nervous. He in the deepest place of his heart, coming here was just to see you again. And maybe run to you and beg you to forgive him. But that was only a movie that played nonstop in his brain. You were nowhere to be found. He hoped you chose this place regularly to write as you were that day he saw you, but apparently it was just his imagination. Now he was sure you only came here on occasions or maybe that was the only time you came. Why would you come regularly to the place where he tore your life apart? He was sure you weren’t as masochistic as he was. You were the sane one, he bet. Probably you had a boyfriend who truly loved you and made plans with your nephews, like going to the beach and chasing birds or picnics at the square. You loved picnics and being outdoors. You wrote that down in your books. You were the only person he knew that enjoyed road trips so much. Just sitting there, observing everything, chatting and doing carpool karaoke. He remembered on a road trip like that he kissed you for the first time. You had that friends to lovers story. You don't trust people that easily. It was hard for you to lose your dad a year before he did. You didn't have that many friends. You were really reserved yet so sweet to everyone. You were just really selective. You didn't want to get attached to the wrong people. And then there he was, breaking everything apart: your trust, your self esteem, everything.

God, he hated himself. He hated himself so much he kept on reading right there where he ruined his life, your life. 

⋆˚࿔Pain in real time𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣 ‘chapter seven: ticking bomb’

‘It’s late at night, and they’re in his tiny apartment, dancing to a song playing softly from the radio. The refrigerator hums in the background, casting a dim light that bathes them in warmth.

She feels safe here, wrapped in his arms, laughing as he spins her around. It’s one of those moments where the rest of the world fades away, and all that exists is the two of them.

But as the music fades, a sense of fragility creeps in. She wonders if happiness like this can last or if it’s destined to slip through her fingers like everything else she’s ever loved.’

🧣 ‘chapter eight: lost in translation’

‘Misunderstandings begin to pile up. They argue over small things that feel bigger than they are. She starts to question if she’s asking for too much—more time, more effort, more love. He grows distant, retreating into his thoughts, unable to articulate what’s wrong.

This chapter captures the slow unraveling of their relationship, the way love can be chipped away by silence and unspoken words. They’re still together, but the cracks are starting to show’.

He was fighting his tears but he promised he will be strong. Biting his lip became an usual because of anxiety, he thought his lips would fall out. This time around he highlighted every phrase that caught his attention. He wanted to remember how such of a dick he was. 

She felt too much.

And he felt too little. 

They really got lost in translation. He was scared he became cold, she was so in love she became desperate. He didn't realize that and he was sure she didn't know what he was going through. He felt lame. If only he would have talked about it. Communication is a skill he didn't have back then, but did he have it now? He was no better with Alex but at least he was real and didn't cheat on her. 

That didn't make him feel better either. He was guilty, very guilty. Hands dirty. How would he even try to talk to her again? He was sure he didn't deserve her. After all this damage she wouldn’t even be near him like that. Yeah, he was considering what Carlos told him but to be fair he felt it was impossible.

The waitress left his coffee on the table and thanked her with a half smile. He thought she recognized him even though he was going grey already. But she didn't say anything and left him to enjoy his coffee and croissant. And his book of course though he looked really gutted. 

🧣 ‘chapter nine: a crumpled up piece of paper’

‘The breakup is devastating. He calls her, his voice cold and detached, and ends it with a blunt honesty that feels like a knife to her chest.

She’s left reeling, feeling like a crumpled piece of paper discarded on the floor. This chapter delves into her grief, the way heartbreak can make time feel endless and unbearable. She tries to forget him, but every corner of her world is filled with reminders’

She felt like a thing, an object. A broken record. An insignificant piece of paper. Of course he cried. He even brought his handkerchieves. 

He remembered he couldn't be there any longer. He just wanted to run away and he did. And that was selfish as hell. Incredibly selfish. He was so much thinking about himself and his feelings he forgot that she was part of the relationship too. That she also had feelings. He didn’t even let her ask him whatever she needed. He left her there eating her own words. He sobbed a little in silence hiding on his arm on the table trying to calm himself down. When did he think coming here to read this was even a good idea to begin with?

‘and i know it’s long gone and that magic’s not here no more’

‘You taught me about your past, thinking your future was me’ 

‘You kept me like a secret, but i kept you like an oath’

‘You called me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest’

‘They say all’s well that ends well, but i’m a new hell every time’

‘The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy , ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you’ 

Those last sentences ended with him. It was the worst one of them all. She confirmed he was selfish as fuck.  That made him so mad at himself. He felt ashamed and disappointed. Like, how can people actually love him? He had to disagree with carlo. He was indeed a monster. He was so distraught he had to leave that damn coffee shop as soon as possible. He left the money for everything he didn't even have and tip on top, and sprinted out of there just like you did when you saw him. How could he blame you? He was running scared from himself at that moment.or he tried because unfortunately he couldn't stop being himself. And accepting all of this was the hardest part. Arthur didn't give him a disclaimer and maybe that was the plan all along but now he was angry with him. Although he knew the only guilty was him. he also kept you like a secret, he didn't tell anyone about you. he was guilt of all charges. and he wasn't proud of himself for doing so.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

The next few days, he came back every time to that coffee shop. Almost everyday. Desperate at the thought that maybe he would find you there. He didn't have a clue of what he would do if he saw you, but for some odd reason he wanted to see you. He didn't know anything about you. He didnt know which places you frequented. Neither where would you like to spend your time rather than your house. 

Of course, he didn't see you. And on one hand he was relieved but at the same time tortured. He gave up my tuesday. It was a beautiful sunny day. He came to visit Carlos and when he left home he decided he was gonna end the book. He was avoiding the balcony, your garden. Though, your house was really quiet, almost as if you weren't there. Maybe you didn't have your special someone yet. Or maybe you did and you were on holiday. 

He stopped himself from keeping on wondering nonsense shit he didn't know if it was real or not. He sat down on the sofas Carlos had near the pool with a blanket and a bottle of water. The sun was keeping him warm. The booked shined being reflected. He did unconsciously look over to your house as quietly as a few minutes ago when he last checked. It’s been two weeks since he last saw you. Or minutes ago when he sees you everytime he closes his eyes. 

⋆˚࿔ Self evaluation and reflection 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣 ‘chapter ten: time stands still’ 

‘Weeks turn into months, but time feels frozen. The protagonist struggles to move on, yearning for her old self—the person she was before she met him. She looks back on the “plaid shirt days” when everything felt simpler and wonders if she’ll ever feel whole again’.

Reading this chapter sent shivers down his spine. Hefelt she was describing exactly how he felt at that moment. The only difference in this book was writing at least 7 years ago (he googled you. You were pretty famous and he didn't know that), and he was feeling this right now. 

He wanted to go back in time and stay there, in the days he would wake up by your kisses and spend the days in bed laughing and gossiping about anything and everything. Back when innocence was part of your bond, so pure that it felt unbreakable. 

So sad it was just a feeling and not a fact. 

He wanted to punch himself in the face right there and then.

🧣 ‘chapter eleven: what was left’

‘From his perspective, the scarf remains a constant reminder of her. He can’t bring himself to throw it away because it still smells like her. It represents the innocence they lost, the love he didn’t know how to hold onto.

The chapter alternates between their perspectives, showing how they’re both haunted by the past in different ways.’

He laughed. How ironic life can be sometimes, right? This felt worse than the Ferrari strategy. But it felt real just like them. He couldn’t believe that even though she didn't know anything about him except from what she could see on the internet or tv, she knew perfectly how he felt. He was in a kind of panic. How could she?

🧣 ‘chapter twelve: back before we lost the one real thing we’ve ever known’ 

‘The protagonist revisits their happiest moments, remembering the rare connection they shared. She acknowledges that even though it’s gone, it was real, and that’s what makes it so hard to let go.’

‘I’d like to be my old shelf again but I’m still trying to find her’

‘And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?’

‘There we are again when I love you so, back before we lost the one real thing we’ve ever known’

He closed the book for a moment. Hanging into the mixed feeling he carried. He was looking nowhere. Deep thinking. She captured things he didn't understand until he read them. How? It was something so special, why? Why did I let her down? So many questions to so few limited answers. 

⋆˚࿔Admiration𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🧣 ‘chapter thirteen: remembering all too well’

‘The book closes with her accepting the weight of her memories. She realizes she doesn’t have to forget to move on. The love, the pain, the lessons—they’re all part of her story now. And while she’ll always remember it all too well, she’s ready to step forward into the unknown’.

He finally finished the book. It took you two weeks to go through it all. All he could think was ‘wow’. This was incredibly hard to read but how brave of her to write all of this. How strong she had to be. How brave to be so vulnerable. That’s something he won’t ever comprehend, he is so scared of being vulnerable. Always trying to be tight and invincible. It helped in racing but in life really complex things took place, not so much. 

He felt admiration, as the first time he saw you painting at the beach a beautiful piece of art. He wondered if you still paint. How ironic he left you for Alex, he thought. Even though he knew all of this was fictional, he knew you. Or he likes to think he does. He knew all of the phrases and thought that fit your character perfectly. He knew it was him and she was you. He was so trapped in his own feelings that he didn't realize how much you were giving to him. You gave him your everything and more. Now he gets it. It was incredible to him you created art with the pain he put you under. And even if he hated himself for that, he felt kind of grateful he could contribute to such a beautiful thing like this one. 

The love that was once there, he knew it still there. He knew all too well he felt it.

As he fell in love with you all over again.

“Charlie, mi amor! It's party night tonight! Woohoooo!” Carlos came out of nowhere and jumped on him funny, scaring him for a second.

“A party? On a tuesday?” Charles was confused but couldn't help laughing. Carlos always makes him laugh and his friendship was really important to him. He always likes to say to Carlos it’s the best thing racing gave him. 

“Why not pup? Don’t be old. When was your last party? You’re getting grey and anciano, help yourself a bit with vodka man! And women” he said with a mischievous smile moving his eyebrows at him funny. Charles laughed, shaking his head.

“Alright, alright. Let’s have fun for once” he surrendered to his friend and his ideas. 

“Woohoo. Get ready, we’ll go to buy everything right now. And Charles, please, get rid of that book mate. You need to move on" Carlos said to his best friend disappearing into the house leaving Charles alone again. 

“I wish i could” he said under his breath resigned and grabbed the book going into the house and left it on his backup. he thought it was a bit contradicting of what he told him a few nights ago but carlos tends to change his mind very quickly about things so it was no surprise for charles. 

Carlos was already waiting for him at the door shaking the keys of his ferrari on his fingers making charles laugh.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter four: here.

tag list: : @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16

author's note: writing this made me sad :( this took me so long to write my eyes hurt, but want it to be good <3

do we or do we not sympathize with charlie? i'll read you 👀

(sonny thank you for giving me this idea)

don't forget to reblog, comment or like! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 6

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N.: Thank you guys for commenting and faving the story. I'm always happy to read all you guys tell me! I'm going to try and reply back. Anywho, let the rollercoaster begin.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5

• ··········· • ············ •

The following week, you restarted the journey to becoming a member of Piltover's society under Esther’s wing. 

The official story was: Your real mother was your aunt, and you had come back to Piltover after your fictional mother died, and because your real mother's maternal instincts were so fine-tuned, your real mother didn't mind that you or anyone else, for that matter, called you her child, and her your mother. Complicated? Yep. It would feed the gossip circles for years, and honestly, you both thrived on the drama.

Clothes were brought, space was made, introductions were done, and the process of making you an official Rainemour in the world was set in motion. 

It felt like home, back to your old Topsider self, with the added extra of waking up, kicking and screaming with the feeling of fingertips on your forehead.

It had been a flurry of new faces, new places, and new customs. You met the house staff, Jaime and Oly, and the cook, Voltaire. While the two keepers lived on the lower floors, Voltaire lived somewhere other than the Cinquefoil building. He had been your mother’s friend for a few years and was the chef at several topside restaurants.

You still hadn't met the elusive Wyllah, but you had found out who she was. She was an art merchant, away on business, but most important, she was your mother’s significant other. Your mother had told you one night, almost in fear, she had found love after your father’s passing. You had blinked and shrugged. Nobody deserved to go through life alone.

Your mother’s life has been quite interesting on this side of the dimension rift. She was a writer, penning a series of fantasy books that magic lovers drank like water. She also found herself advocating for better education in Piltover. All of Piltover, especially the undercity. Esther tried to help those who wanted a chance to change their future.

It was only a matter of time until fate brought her and a certain engineer who also had a like-minded vision together. After that meeting, Esther became a patron of the Talis Lab and the Academy, helping with funding for any projects regarding the betterment of the city. 

And that was the reason why you were now making your way towards a familiar lab in the Academy. A commission for her needed approval and had been delayed long enough with the rocket attack and you appearing out of thin air. Or, according to the gossip, like an illegitimate child. 

“You didn’t need to come along.” She mumbled while pushing the elevator button.

“I wanted to come.” You smiled confidently at her. You wanted everyone to see you and become accustomed to you. It would be beneficial if you wanted to get into the business of saving the world. 

“To check on your friends?”  

You nodded. Before the Herald and the HexAngels, between Jayce becoming a councilor and the hextech showing its true colors, most of your time was divided between the music conservatory, the orchestra, Talis' labs, and home. And from all of those, home was the one you went to less and less with time. Therefore, when allowed to have even a single second of normalcy in a familiar place, you seized it. 

When the elevator dinged, you walked inside with a conviction that was only masking a feeling of nervousness. Yes, you knew this place and the face on the other side of the lab door, but they didn't. You were just a stranger.

“Has it changed much?” Your mother whispered, and you grinned at her.

“Nah, a few artworks and garbage cans. Some names on the doors, but nothing else.” 

“Really? Fascinating.” Her face was deep in thought.

“Stop.” You chuckled, knowing that look. She was taking mental notes. “It’s not that interesting.” 

The elevator pinged and opened again. Instinctively you walked out first, knowing exactly where to go, your mother keeping up with you, scoffing. 

“Well, excuse me if I find it amazing that my child jumped through time and space to save the world.”

“I didn’t save the world.” You rolled your eyes at her.

“Viktor is still alive, isn’t he?” She noted, raising her eyebrows.  

As soon as she finished that sentence, a small thump of a dry explosion was heard inside the hextech lab. Like an empty milk carton was squished with a stomp. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” She added. 

Another small firecracker-like explosion was heard, prompting you both to look at each other and break into a jog to reach the lab.  

As expected, the door was locked, and although you had told your mom about a lot, the magic part was still something that needed some explanation. So you resorted to the least efficient way to open a closed door: banging on it. 

“Viktor! Jayce?” Esther shouted. A few groans from behind the door warned you there was someone alive inside. Well, capable of moaning in pain was more accurate. 

“Get the enforcers.” You mumbled to your mother; she nodded and raced around the corner. 

As soon as she was out of sight, you pulled your glove off and magically unlocked the door, punching the rune you painted near the lock. The door immediately opened with the force of your hit but didn’t swing open as expected. It hit something and bounced back, slamming shut again while someone grunted in pain on the other side. 

It’s funny how you could know someone from their tiniest squeak. And you knew that groan. You'd know it had it come from the other side of Piltover. Hells, you'd know it if it had been heard through the actual space and time rift. 

Carefully this time you twisted the door handle, opening the door gently and peeking inside the lab.

 Although the curtains were open, a dusty, thick white fog lingered in the air, making the room a shade darker. The floor was littered with tools, gears, and pencils that had fallen from their places, and a pair of goggles was lying on the floor next to a welding machine.

Viktor was sprawled on the ground, leaning back into one of his hands while the other was gently massaging his face. One of his legs was twisted uncomfortably, and the other was bent at the knee in front of him. You could see as he rubbed his face that there was blood coming from somewhere. After a while, he shook his head and looked up at the door.

When he managed to focus his gaze on you, his eyebrows knotted in confusion and then realization. With a sigh, he sat, grabbed the leg that was twisted uncomfortably, and brought it forward. You heard a metallic thud. Hextech leg. Your gaze shifted to his face; you saw the blood coming from his nose, but it didn’t seem broken. Above his eyebrow was a small curved gash, a courtesy of the goggles he probably ripped off his head.

 “We do need to stop meeting like this.” he mumbled, trying to get up with the grace of a baby deer using its long limbs for the first time.

 Putting your glove back on, you took a step closer and offered him a hand, which he accepted with raised eyebrows and a head tilt.

 With more expertise than he was expecting, you grabbed his hand and forearm and pulled him up. Picking this man off the floor had become a skill both you and Jayce obtained a long time ago. His disability unfortunately made him an easy target for misfires. While you and Jayce would easily dodge anything coming your way, Viktor wouldn’t. Couldn’t. And since the fastest way to move him fast was pushing him out of the way, the three of you would end up on the floor, and either you or Jayce would shield Viktor from whatever was malfunctioning at the time. It wasn't your proudest idea, but it worked, and for better or worse, you all would escape relatively unscathed.

 “Like what?” You asked, joining him in dusting off his clothes.

 You patted his back gently, feeling the brace on his spine under his clothes. You didn't find it.

 “After an explosion.” He swished the dust off his coat sleeves. The off-white coat was a tinge darker after the mishap. 

 “Technically, this is the first time we meet after an explosion.” You emphasized the word ‘after’ and he stopped mid-swipe, turning his face back towards you.

 Shrugging, you lifted the corners of your mouth, giving him a grin that he responded to with a chuckle. You looked around the mess that was the lab at this moment and spotted his white cane and his wheeled bench.

You grabbed the cane first and gently pushed the stool so it would roll down next to him. He plopped down with a groan, using the table as leverage. You handed him the cane, and he nodded. You smile at his messy figure.

 “Thank you.” He said, placing the cane between his knees and leaning into it with a heavy sigh.

 “Do you need anything else?” You asked softly, stopping the urge to kneel next to him and take stock of his injuries.

 “There is a first-aid kit somewhere on Jayce's desk. It’s on the...”

 Before he finished the sentence, you jiggled the white box next to him, having already grabbed it when he mentioned it.

 “How did…?” He asked, looking at you questioningly, and panic set in for a second.

 “Oh, my dear boy!” Your mother burst in, followed by several Enforcers, and you sighed in relief. 

 “Is everything alright?” One of the Enforcers said, and you took a step back, leaning against the table behind where Viktor sat.

 “Yes…” Viktor stated while your mother fussed over him.

 One of the enforcers looked at you, and you recognized his eyes. He had been one of the men you had pushed out of your way at the front door of the Academy. You looked at the floor, trying to not provoke the man.

 “Funny. You always seem to appear whenever anything goes boom, don't you?” He spat towards you. 

“Not funny at all.” You replied, your tone serious, trying once more not to escalate the situation. For your sake and the people you cared about who were now looking between you and the Enforcer.

“Maybe we should call Officer Kiraman. I’m sure she would like to know that once again you’re in the vicinity of an attack.” He snarled, and you scowled at him, about to let him have it.

“You are going to call Officer Kiraman over a malfunctioning piece of equipment?” Viktor interrupted, straightening up with a wince while using his cane to get up from the stool. “Do you think she’ll get here before or after reading all the condolence letters sent to her? Or perhaps she will make time on Remembrance Day, right before the speech honoring her deceased mother."

 A pin could be heard through the silence if a pin would have dropped in the lab. The main enforcer was looking at him, mouth hanging open; you and your mother looked at each other and then at a very collected, very serious Viktor. He seemed taller, with his shoulders straight, and you knew that after that tumble he was going to hurt for at least a week, but that didn't stop him from stepping up to the Enforcers. You had forgotten how much sass that man could pack in a single line.

 “When is it going to be, officer?” The engineer shrugged, limping back towards a pile of sheets that had flown back. “I need to tidy up before she gets here.”

 It took the group of Enforcers three seconds to clear out after that, and a collective sigh was heard from the three of you.

 “You’d think being knocked around would make their synapses work faster.” Viktor waved a hand at them, still picking up papers, stopping midway to look at you, like he had just realized you were there. “Not that I agree with knocking around enforcers…or that you knocked around enforcers… I’m just saying…”

 He was flustered, talking with his free hand while his eyes looked around the room. You chuckled, and he stopped when he heard you. 

 “You’re just saying…?” You teased, rolling your hand for him to keep going.

“Nothing of importance, I suppose.” He turned back to the table.

 “I was hoping you could show me the reader.” Esther announced, grabbing a few nuts and bolts and placing them next to Viktor. “But I imagine it's not functioning.”

 Viktor turned to her, realizing finally why you were both there. He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck.

 “Well, yes and no.” He said, tilting his head from side to side. “The explosion wasn’t it, but it was a component that I was trying to recreate to use in another experiment.”

 “And now both are fried.” You answered by crossing your arms. 

“Well…yes. But if you give me a few hours, I can make it work, at least for the reader. The other thing will wait, I guess…” he said quickly. “Better yet, give me a few minutes so I can get it, and I can at least show you what I have for now.”

“It's quite alright, dear. Take your time. We can just come back another time.” Esther said, and part of you felt disappointed. 

 Your second home was right here.

“That would hardly be fair. You’ve made it here. Give me a few minutes, an hour tops.” He was limping around waving his hand and cane.

“I suppose I do need to speak with Councilor Salo.” Your mother shrugged nonchalantly. “Do you want to—”

“No.” You cut her off. “Not really. You go ahead. I’ll get reacquainted with the Academy.”

“Reacquainted?” Viktor inquired, looking towards you.

“Last time I was here, I didn’t exactly take the scenic route.” You covered your mistake with an easy joke, and he chuckled at it.

• ············ •

You managed to walk around the Academy undisturbed. It was weird to walk around the familiar corridors, passing by people you knew and fighting the urge to say hello and strike up a conversation. It was awfully lonely, seeing everyone going about their lives, never knowing about you.

 Although it saddened you, you understood that it wasn’t because you weren’t needed in their lives but because fate found a way to replace you. Maybe you hadn’t saved Sky from falling down the stairs in this universe, because maybe her classroom was on the same floor she was at.

As you wandered, you found yourself in a corridor with very recognizable double doors. The Council Chamber was guarded by several guards, and you felt the morbid curiosity to see if the room was the same as it was in your time. 

As you searched your brain for a way to bypass the guards, a familiar whispering in your ear. The rune from the elevator flashed behind your eyes. The one you hadn’t managed to make work. You took your gloves off again and drew the symbol in a railing, disguising it as an absent movement as you looked down to the courtyard. You let it go, and nothing happened for a couple of seconds.

And then the groaning of metal grinding against another surface filled your ears. Your eyes turned upwards as you saw the metal spike that held the Academy’s banner to the stone ceiling give way and slip. The heavy banner made a swoosh noise as it fell, and your eyes widened. 

You saw the Enforcers run towards the elevator and the stairs. You turned your back to them and waited until their hurried footsteps had softened. 

Quickly you made your way to the chamber through the door you had burst open. A new door had been placed and locked, but you unlocked it with three swipes of your fingers.

 The chamber room was as spacious as you remembered, the hole in the dome a grim reminder that those who sat in this room were as vulnerable as everyone else in the city. You remembered Viktor’s diagram, looking around at the empty and cracked chairs. Most of the smaller debris had been cleaned off, leaving only the big and medium chunks. The ones that couldn't just be carried off by crewmen. The sun shone high and bright in the clear sky, illuminating the whole room, the long pieces of the damaged dome casting a shadow on the floor.

You touched parts of the smooth stone that were still intact and walked toward the edge of the room, feeling the wind on your face. It had been an awakening to these people, but not the one that Piltover needed. This whole region forgot how hard it is to break a rope and how easy it is to break a strand. Only in the end did they figure out that the many are more powerful than the few. That blood, once spilt, is equally red whether it is from Zaun or Topside.

Closing your eyes, you stood for a moment, somewhat grieving what had been the beginning of the end.

(Nemo - The Code)

Welcome to the show. Let everybody know I’m done playing the game. I’ll break out of the chains.

Until the wind started whispering in your ear and your eyes shot open. What looked to be blue dust started to float like specks of dust toward the middle of the room, and you followed the flow. There was nothing there. But there could be. 

You better buckle up; I'll pour another cup. This is my bohème, so drink it up, my friend.

 Your hand moved unconsciously, drawing the rune in the air like it was second nature. You pushed it out with a flick of your hand. Like in the graveyard, it divided itself into several wisps of light and quickly moved toward parts of the broken table and chairs. A familiar rune appeared, but so did many others. Some are more complicated, others just little flicks of light. Shining bright in the middle of the rubble or being illuminated by sunlight.

I went to hell and back. To find myself on track, I broke the code.

 You walked towards what had been the middle of the cog-like shape and watched as the wisps danced around. Looking around, you noticed the runes were surrounding you, pulsating like a heartbeat; you noticed your hand doing the same, in rhythm with the wisps. You saw a small piece of rubble that had been missing by the cleaning crew and took a deep breath. 

“Here goes nothing.”

Let me tell you a tale about life, 'Bout the good and the bad; better hold on tight.

 Starting with the rune in front of you, you carved it on the floor, the piece of rubble in your hand serving as a makeshift chalk. You kept carving the runes on the floor in front of where they appeared in the air. The world around you faded, and your vision became focused.

 See the rune, and trace the rune on the floor. 

Let me taste the lows and highs; let me feel that burning fright.

It was automatic; you didn’t think or even study the rune. At some point, you felt like it was the rune commanding you to write, rather than your desire to write them. And even though it was akin to someone using your arm and hand to do this, it never felt like you couldn’t stop. 

 It was almost cathartic.

Somewhere between the O's and ones, that's where I found my kingdom come.

 When you found yourself at the beginning of the circle of runes, you stopped and took a step back. The wisps had disappeared, but you could see a faint light throbbing under the scratched runes. 

 It looked so unbelievably perfect for something that you had scratched on the floor with a piece of cement. Every space between runes was precise, and the little ticks and dots were perfectly balanced. 

 With that amount of rigor, it was easy to see something was missing, a single wisp in the spot where the cog table opened. Familiar strokes. Ones you’ve been looking at ever since you woke up in the hospital. 

 You looked at your palm, the rune there shining so bright it almost burned. Taking a few steps towards the space, you shook your hand in the air and slammed it into the slot.

My heart beats like a drum.

The whole room shook, and for a second you got scared, but when the runes started ungluing themselves off the ground and quickly zapping around different parts of the table, you became too fascinated with the show to care.

 If the building fell, you don’t think you’d even notice.

 Every piece of wreckage, big or small, started floating above you, aided by strands of magic that pushed and pulled and moved different pieces toward different places. Their rightful places. Once a piece found its match, it was welded together by a flash of blue light, leaving them complete with a trace of metallic blue where the crack had been.

I went to hell and back. To find myself on track, I broke the code.

 You noticed the same thing happening in the chairs, and by the end of the magic show, the table and the chairs were floating around you. Slowly drifting and turning into their right position. Until they wafted back down to the floor with an incredible low thud.

 It was almost overwhelming once it was all over how the silence settled around you. The runes on the floor disappeared, your hand stopped glowing, and the table was complete, whole, pieced together by little blue veins. The only thing you heard was the birds outside, the wind through the damaged dome, your heavy breathing, and the clunk of a metal cane hitting the floor.

 Your neck snapped at the sound, and you saw a wide-eyed Viktor standing in front of the side door you had entered.

 “Your… your mother is… She’s looking for you.” He stuttered.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Man Up - One Shot

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x f!Reader

Summary: After hearing from his brother, maria, and Ellie that Joel likes you, you confront him and tell him that he needs to “man up”.

Warnings: Fluff!! Menacing!Joel, use of problematic language, Joel and reader are emotionally stunted, rom-com type flirtiness, Joel is "happy" and all of the Ellie stuff never happened and they're living happily ever after because I said so! :))))))

BEFORE YOU READ: I do not condone telling ANYONE of any gender to “man up” because I know it is a hurtful and dehumanizing term. However, in this context, both the reader and Joel are extremely emotionally stunted and the reader is only using the term to get a rise out of Joel (which is still toxic, but is anything with Joel Miller ever going to be non-toxic? Let’s be real with ourselves LOL.) With that being said, keep in mind this is fiction, it is being said “for the plot”, and I do not condone the use of this language towards anyone else. I love you guys and enjoy!  

~~~~~~

“He’s into you. You really can’t see it?” Maria asked as she watched you finish washing your hands in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison. “I don’t know, Maria. It’s been so long since someone’s been ‘into me’ or I’ve been ‘into someone’... It’s also just so confusing. Plus it’s fucking Joel Miller. The guy hates everyone.” You lamented. “Everyone but you!” Ellie chimed in as she opened the door to her stall and joined you at the sink. “See?” Maria said, gesturing towards Ellie, “Even the person who’s known him the longest says so.” You rolled your eyes.  “Well, she’s not even supposed to be here. It’s a bar and she’s 16 years old.” You pointed out. The three of you laughed as you took Ellie into a playful headlock. “But she’s cute so I made an exception.” Maria chuckled. You and Ellie broke away from each other, smiling. “For fear of embarrassment, I’ve been trying to let him make the first move.” You said, leaning against the sink. “Maybe he’s doing the same.” Maria suggested. “Guess we’ll never know.” You sighed dramatically and moved to exit the bathroom. The two of them followed behind you. “What is there to lose?” Ellie questioned. “My patrol partner, my… friend?” You answered smartly. “But the world has already ended, girl, I think that’s enough of a reason to say fuck it and just ask him out. I had to make the first move with Tommy.” Maria paused and then continued, “The Millers are all rough and tumble, until it comes to feelings, then they run away with their tail between their legs.” Ellie laughed, “That’s for sure.” Soon enough, you guys neared the table that you three and the two brothers had taken for yourselves, you whispered under your breath, “Well, he needs to man up.” 

Joel locked eyes with you as you approached and quickly slid over in the booth to make room for you. You clocked this and filed it in the “evidence that Joel likes me” file in your brain, and proceeded to sit down next to him. The four of you drank and talked while Ellie played pool with Dina. Every so often you’d hear a playful argument break out between the two and you’d catch sight of Joel’s smile. He was happy Ellie had a friend, and so were you. 

After you downed the last of your drink, you sat up from your slump in the booth and grabbed your coat. “Well, I think I’m gonna turn in. Gotta be up tomorrow for patrol.” You said as you stood at the end of the table awkwardly. “Do you want us to walk you home?” Tommy asked, gesturing to him and Maria. “Joel will, right Joel?” Ellie asked with a mischievous glint in her eye. Joel cleared his throat and shot Ellie a look, “Who will take your sorry ass home then?” He asked. “We will,” Maria chimed in, “I don’t mind doin’ a switch off.” This time you shot her a look. You were tipsy and on the brink of getting a headache and the last thing you wanted to do was force a conversation with a brick wall named Joel Miller. Though much to your surprise, he stood up and began to shepherd you out of the bar. “See you guys later!” You called back to the group. “Get home safe!” Maria called. “Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do!” Tommy called. You caught sight of Ellie making kissy faces at you and you promptly stuck your tongue out at her. Joel caught sight of you and said, “Don’t make faces at my kid.” You saw the half smile on his face and chuckled. “Your kid’s making faces at me.” You said drunkenly. 

Joel pushed the door open and you practically stumbled out into the chilling winter air. The sun had set long ago, leaving only the thousands of stars to contrast against the pitch black sky. You hadn’t realized that you’d stopped to stare until Joel broke your focus, “You comin’ or what?” He asked impatiently. “Yeah,” you said groggily, “Sorry.” You hurried to catch up and matched his stride. “God… I’m drunk.” You sighed, mostly to yourself. “I know.” Joel mumbled. “Y’know I can walk myself home.” You said defensively. “You just said it yourself, you’re drunk. Not safe.” He argued. “Yeah well at least if I was by myself there’d be better conversation.” You joked. “Ah, so you’re a belligerent, mumbling drunk.” He said, keeping his proud gaze on the streets ahead. “At least I’m the same exact person but just a little more talkative when I’m drunk like you.” You argued. “Shut up.” He chuffed, a small smile crinkled his eyes. You nudged your shoulder into his arm, sending him a few steps to the side, “You shut up.” 

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face disappeared when you arrived at the steps of your house. He followed you up and waited patiently as you fumbled in your pockets for your keys. “Want coffee or anythin’?” You asked. He thought for a moment, then nodded, “Sure. Could use some for the walk home.” Once you practically busted the door open, the two of you walked to your kitchen and Joel perched himself on a stool at the counter as he watched you sloppily make a pot of coffee. “I’m glad Ellie met Dina. She seems real happy since hanging out with her.” You said, attempting to break through the awkward silence. Joel nodded, “She’s a good friend. They compete a lot in school which helps with her uh… performance or whatever.” You nodded and handed him the steaming mug. 

After the two of you sipped your coffees and talked about practically nothing in small spurts between silence, Joel placed his mug in the sink and picked his coat up off of the chair before sliding it over his shoulders. You watched as he made his way to the door, and  you nodded in agreement when he said “I should head home. I’ll see you in the mornin’ for patrols.” But something burned inside you. Something you could only guess was impatience. You decided that now, the time where you had some liquid courage warming your stomach and caffeine pumping through your veins, would be as good a time as any to get an answer out of Joel. 

“When are you gonna man up?” You blurted just before Joel could place his hand on the doorknob. He whirled around angrily. “Excuse me?” He sneered. There was no going back now, so you crossed your arms over your chest and repeated yourself, slower this time. “When are you going to man up?” He stared at you in disbelief for a moment and you watched as his eyes studied you, waiting for you to take back your words. “Man up?” He scoffed. “Yeah.” You confirmed anxiously. Your heart jumped to your throat as he began to walk back towards you  slowly. “Man up… and what?” He asked as he backed you against the wall, causing you to nearly lose your footing. You looked above your head at the veins pulsing in his forearm which was now planted against the wall. His face was inches from yours and you could smell the whiskey you’d shared on his breath. You gulped, “And- and admit you like me.” Your stomach dropped when he let out a dead eyed laugh. “Like you? What- is this middle school? We whisperin’ about crushes now?” He mocked. Embarrassment filled your chest and all you wanted to do was push him away, run up stairs and wrap yourself in the covers of your bed. “Fuck,” you said under your breath, “just forget it. Fuck.” You pressed your hands against his chest and tried to push him off, but he wasn’t budging. “‘Course I like you.” he finally said and pressed your arms down in an attempt to get you to stop pushing him away. You locked eyes with him again, “What?” You blurted. You were confused from being pushed in so many directions that you didn’t know what to think at this point. “I ain’t the best with words… but I’ve been tryin’ to show you.” He whispered. 

His soft stare was healing every wound that had been inflicted by his sharp one earlier.  Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. A feeling of tv static coursed through your veins. From the top of your neck, down through your fingertips and toes. Adrenaline caused your hands to start shaking, but Joel grabbed them and pushed them around his neck before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing further into the kiss. When he pulled away, your foreheads pressed together. “That man enough for you?” He asked, a small smirk twisting the corner of his lips upward. You smiled lightly and played with a tuft of hair at the base of his skull before tugging it lightly. “Congratulations, Mr. Miller. You’ve officially grown a pair.” You teased before pulling him into you for an even deeper kiss. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: Hiiii! I hope you enjoyed this little rom-com-esque vibe. As always, thank you for reading and please comment below to be on the tag-list or with any requests! <3

Taglist: @ashleyfilm @pastelpinkflowerlife @orcasoul

[dlscenarios]

How I Long For Our Trysts

Anthony Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

I finished reading The Viscount Who Loved Me & i'm already missing this fictional man like he's my husband that went off to war.

Also ofc the title is a Taylor Swift reference. What else is new?

Cw: AFAB Reader + a few brief mentions of Reader being a lady, Bridgerton-typical society talk, Reader & Anthony are pretty handsy, No foreplay, Unprotected sex + Creampie

You were going to be the death of him.

Anthony Bridgerton always knew he was going to die young, but he'd always thought it would be a similar death to his father's — sudden and perhaps by the stinger of a measly bee — yet the agonizing wait for you to appear in the doorway of his study might do him in first.

His mother had invited what felt like hundreds of singles in the ton for another one of her house parties at Aubrey Hall. The woman was relentless in her task of marrying off her children, although she seemed to focus more on Anthony than his brothers. To the viscount's dismay (he was ashamed to admit his simultaneous delight), you were one of the invited guests. Anthony's mother had no idea that you and her eldest son had already become well acquainted with each other, having met earlier in the season.

You had a distaste for society and its strict rules, something that both intrigued and infuriated Anthony. You conducted yourself in a way that haunted his very being. Had you been a smidge less cynical, you would fit Anthony's idea of a perfect viscountess exactly.

Since your first meeting, the viscount would see you everywhere. At the shops, the park, every ball, there was even a time Anthony could have sworn you were in his bed beside him only to find out it was just an all-too-real dream. In hopes of getting you out of his head, he began pursuing you. Not in hopes of marriage, Anthony had carefully planned out every minute you shared together to avoid such a thing, but in hopes of turning his dream into a reality. And it worked. It worked far better than Anthony thought it would. Every moment he spent getting lost in your body felt better than it had with any of the women he had slept with before. He craved you more than he had ever craved anything in his entire life. While your moments together were fleeting, he made every minute count and seared the memory into his brain. 

Now that you were under the same roof as him, he could barely hold himself back. His siblings had coerced you to join their game of Pall Mall earlier in the evening and each time your ball and his sat near each other, it took every ounce of Anthony's strength not to pull you to the side and kiss you senseless. After the game, he stepped closer to your side, inconspicuously whispering into your ear to meet him in his study at midnight. If everyone else in the house was asleep, he could have you all to himself for hours. As long as the two of you ended up in your respective bedchambers by dawn, no one would be any wiser.

While waiting for the clock to strike twelve, Anthony tried to keep himself busy by going over a few papers, but eventually the dry scratching of his quill and the flickering light of the candle beside him began to make his head spin. Tossing the pen to the side and rubbing his face with his hands, the door finally creaked open. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk grew on Anthony's face at the sight of you shutting the door behind you.

"Took you long enough." he quipped, gazing at you with tired eyes. You returned his smile and approached the desk.

"It is better to be safe rather than sorry, my lord. I did not want to risk someone catching me outside of my chambers like this~" Your hand began to fiddle with the hastily-tied knot on your robe. With a light tug, the robe was untied and fluttered open to reveal that you donned only a chemise under it.

Anthony sucked in a breath, dark eyes trailing over your figure. Yes, he had seen you in less before, but you looked too damned stunning in everything you wore, no matter how many layers it consisted of. Even at the social events both of your families "coincidentally" attended, he could not tear his eyes away from you.

You stepped closer to his side, his hand wasting no time in settling on your hip. He was looking at you like how a puppy eyed its beloved owner. You kept that analogy to yourself, knowing full well that he would rid it the moment he became aware of it, but it was perhaps the most beautiful look he had ever worn. Your opposing hand came up to graze his cheek before your fingertips peaked into his hair. Anthony's eyes fluttered shut, leaning into your hand and turning to press a soft kiss to your palm.

"Always so eager." you said, smiling down at your lover. You caught the faintest, briefest smile on his lips before he kissed your palm once more with a deep hum.

"You cannot blame me." Anthony's voice was low and filled with passion as he replied, "Not when I have the prettiest lover in all of Great Britain," he paused to squeeze your hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of your chemise, "Right at my fingertips."

"Aw..." you teased, leaning down to meet his lips. Anthony lets out a low moan into the kiss as his hand slides from your hip to around your waist, guiding you down to straddle him in his chair. Your warmth was the comforting sort, the image of you in his lap serving as a reminder that Anthony had you. You were his, sitting so prettily above him, and deep down, while it hurt his pride to admit such, Anthony knew he was yours.

In the glow of the fireplace, the two of you held each other close, hands exploring previously conquered patches of skin. You had tugged his vest open as one of his hands slid under your chemise to grab your ass. His lips had left yours to trail hot kisses along your neck. Your breathy pants fanned against his ear while he suckled your clavicle, wishing so desperately that he could leave a mark. Anthony knew he couldn't. You were out in society, someone the viscount had sworn to never rope into his rakish encounters. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin your reputation and find himself at the receiving end of your relative's pistol.

Anthony let out a low growl, pushing away the niggling reminder that he had compromised you. What a hypocrite he was. Had one of his sisters been in your position, he would have ripped their lover to shreds, but something about you felt different. A warm and welcoming feeling that Anthony had never experienced before. A feeling that was suffocating him as he lifted his head to peck your jaw before guiding you into another kiss.

You yanked at his shirt, ripping the top buttons out of their holes. Anthony groaned as your hand trailed down his clothed chest, grazing over his stomach and inching closer to his waistband. His lips leave yours, pressing a feather-light kiss to your cheek before his own hand slips down to meet yours, expertly unbuttoning his trousers.

Anthony Bridgerton was never a patient man, something you had known since your first night together. He was never selfish — in fact, he was quite a generous lover, always checking to make sure he wasn't moving too fast — he merely found it difficult to hold back at times. You were a drug. Perhaps the only thing that could make him completely drunk, aside from the occasional brandy. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, he gazed up, his dark eyes shining with a lustful glint as they met yours.

You shifted above him and pulled up the skirt of your chemise enough for him to line up with your entrance. His free hand rested on your hip before slowly guiding you down to take him in. With a groan, he squeezed your ass as you situate yourself in his lap. His hands slid up to your hips, urging them to roll toward his.

Anthony held you close, enough for him to lean forward and mouth at your clothed chest. You always felt like heaven, so hot and tight. You made him feel alive. Anthony groaned against your chest as his fingers dug into your skin, mirroring the new grip you had on his shoulders. Your soft moans against his ear spurred him to help quicken your grinding, guiding you along the length of his cock.

Before you had met the viscount, you had known of his rakish ways from Whistledown's column. The woman had never been wrong so you had no reason to disbelieve her reports on Anthony's past conquests. Opera singers, actresses, several women in London's brothels, he had allegedly bed them all. He was the biggest rake in all of Britain, yet as he held you tight and fucked into you as if he loved you, you couldn't bring yourself to regret meeting him. It could have been your inexperience in these sorts of encounters, but you could have sworn the Anthony Bridgerton you saw during these nights was a better man than the one Whistledown knew. He was always so attentive and skilled and beautiful and...

You contracted around him, ripping a gruff moan from your lover's lips, his gaze focused on your connection as he controlled the movement of your hips. His short nails bit through the thin cotton of your chemise, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours.

"Fuck..." Anthony groaned almost too quiet for you to hear. He always found it hard to last longer than you, yet another difference between you and his past lovers. He was already close and, judging by the way your moans took on a higher pitch, you were not far behind. One of his hands left your hip to slip under the bunched front of your dress, thumbing your clit in the exact way he knew you liked.

You squeaked out a moan, your grip on the back of his shirt hardening. "Anthony...Oh god, Anthony..." you repeated his name like a prayer.

Suddenly, your orgasm hit, stilling your hips and moaning into his shoulder. Like he always did, Anthony coaxed you through your release, continuing his ministrations and pressing soft kisses to the side of your head. Once your moans subsided, the hand on your clit left to rest on your back. You kept your face buried in his shoulder as he panted into your ear, his own sounds growing closer together as he chased his release.

You lifted your head enough for Anthony to steal your lips again. With another groan, he thrusted up into you one last time before his come began to fill you. He held you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss.

You moaned and weaved your hand into his hair. You didn't want the kiss to end. The moment it did meant your time with Anthony was coming to an end. You would have to return to your bedchamber alone, knowing the man you had accidentally started falling for was under the same roof.

Meanwhile, Anthony had no plans of letting you go once leaving your lips to catch his breath. He glanced to the nearby clock. It was only one in the morning, plenty of time to keep you locked in the study with him. He should be free to have you until six, when the maids would begin wrapping their wake-up calls on the residents’ doors. After only a few gulps of air, Anthony's lips were back on yours, keen on having you in every position he's dreamed you in.

Anthony Bridgerton never planned on catching feelings. Hell, his entire plan for the season was to find a wife he wouldn't fall for, yet as he admired you in the euphoric state he had put you in, he was starting to think his plan had failed.

[clairegregoryau]

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

[lady-ashfade]

Unpopular class 1A characters and their yandere traits!!

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters: Kouji Kouda, Rikidou Satou, Mashirao Ojiro, Yuuga Aoyama, Fumikage Tokoyami, Tooru Hagakure, Mezou Shouji. {Class 1A as a whole yandere group tho}

WARNINGS: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Violates, Crazy Behavior, I don’t condone this in real life only fiction, so many spelling errors I’m so sorry.

GENRA: HCS

Rikidou Satou

Equally could be platonic or romantic.

I want him as a yandere so bad. I think he’s perfect, and not just because our quirks would be similar—

He is more of a tame yandere and really just wants to protect you, but respects you so much. So let me explain.

Is the type to wanna baby you, and 100% will when the time is needed but he also loves when you feel confident. So he’s not the type to wanna get your hero license taken away. But doesn’t like you on your own fighting either.

Pocket full or treats for you. Take down a villain? Treat. Get the tests right? Treat. SMILE AT HIM? Treat for you.

He’s not as crazy as his classmates but can be convinced to do anything that is needed.

Satou wants to be noticed by you since he is more in the background, or not in the loud groups that do get your attention. So he tries to be the best at things they aren’t just for you to be around him. Like baking sweets for you anytime you- does guilt trip you and put you on the spot sometimes.

“I know everyone is busy, I just thought you’d be my taste tester- No worries, I’ll just wait until next week.” Stuff like that to get you to feel a bit bad for rejecting him.

Alone, Satou would be a comfortable yandere to deal with but when he’s group up, can be worse. He’s is always going to be the reasonable one.

 Doesn’t have a big shrine of you, but does keep a shoebox under his bed with things you have given or lost. He isn’t creepy so nothing is weird in this pile. Literally just takes things you forgot behind in class or in battle.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Still big on the chill side.

When the group/or him kidnapped you, he’s going to just be a friend and try to stick up for you when he can.

WILL FIGHT FOR YOU TO GET SOME SUN! He knows it’s important.

If he or the others need to punish you, tries to get you a light punishment. And really easy to sucker into sneaking you snacks, or just giving.

Tho, he will never be the one giving you any type of punishment. Like locking you in your room or anything else.

If he’s alone yandere, he’s taking away the internet and your game console….Which lasts about two days before your begging gets to him.

Kouji Kouda

More platonic yandere but he’s a cutie so, whatever you want boo.

You know how I feel about quite sunshine characters— let me cook.

He is tame- he’s a sweet yandere to have and much like satou….But he does have some tendency that could be really creep.

Stalker this little guy— has birds or other small animals watching your every move. Outside your window at night, walking to class, training.

He’s not dangerous and would never hurt you. Also respects you as a person, wouldn’t take your hero licenses away, likes when you fight beside him. So you have that going for you.

He’s using cute animals to worm his way to your side and in your life more. If you’re the type to not wanna hang out with anyone, oops- how did that bunny get into you room? So he’s using animals to be near you. And it works most of the time. Because he is quite and pleasant to be around so you let him in your room while you pet the animals. I see you guys study or doing homework together and just chilling in your room in silence.

He wants to baby you but is too shy to do anything, please— would explode if he pets your head even once. He is the type to wanna comfort you but doesn’t say much, just kinda lets you cry on his shoulders if you need it.

“Bunny?” Shoves a bunny in your face while tears stream down your cheeks.

Freaks out if you get hurt. He’s screaming when you got a bloody knee from tripping and is running to get a first aid kit and the others. It’s weird, he sees you get punched and kick, and hates it, but freaks out over the little things.

Has, and will cry again if you get a paper cut.

He’s not Alone. I don’t see him really as a yandere to not work in a group, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be. If he’s alone his tendency are more under the radar and will never act on anything.

Doesn’t have a shrine. Doesn’t really take things from you either. But will place things you give him in a box where they are nice and safe. Also will have a picture of you together on his wall.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

If he were to ever actually become crazy like the others it would be more dangerous.

He has animals, can control any of them. So, he would have poisonous animals or insects. And will cause harm if he’s corrupted.

Like I said, if he’s with a group he’s okay with them kidnapping you- but alone I don’t think he would.

If he’s all by himself, he’s somehow getting you to move in with him.

Doesn’t like you getting punished and I don’t think would ever actually punish you. IF he had to, I think he limited your animal hours down.

Tooru Hagakure

Crazy cult fangirl yandere. Literally she’s crushing on you and fangirl so hard over you just looking at her. So she’s romantic, or if you want platonic. Wouldn’t force you to have feelings for her but he feelings stay the same. (at least in this fic)

What doesn’t this girl do? Stalks you everywhere, she can’t be seen. Steals your stuff all the time when your not looking.

Does baby you. But also hypes you up to be like a god. Thinks everything you do is better then anyone on earth or the galaxy. You could literally sit down and she’s wonder “How can they be so cute?” PLEASE SOMEONE COME GET HER-

She could be one to take your hero license away or not. Depends on your quirk or her level of craziness.

If you have a quirk that’s not getting much better or she thinks isn’t going to keep you safe in the long run- kiss your freedom goodbye. But if you have a overpowered quirk and are in the top five in class. She’s freaking out.

I don’t think she would hurt you. So you don’t have to worry about her doing things really messes up. Her love is just overwhelming to handle, even platonically.

She’s touching you 24/7. Playing with your hair even if you push her away, taking your hand in hers to lead you somewhere, kissing your cheek when you do well.

Love letter yandere anyone? Leaves letters in your locker or bag every few days. How good you look each day, telling you she wants you to kiss her or protect her, to hold your hand for longer then a few minutes, where she wants to get married—

Honestly, she will do anything you ask her to. Because you asked her, only her— you need her! She will run off to do what you want her too. If she’s annoying you, all you have to do is ask her to go get you a snack and she’s out of your room like the flash to get it.

Takes millions of pictures of you— is the class picture dealer. Like image her in the dead of night, hoodie on, making a trade off of your pictures. “What do you want? I got ones of them sleeping, got one fighting a villain” trades for almost anything. Other pictures they took, things of yours, even cash.

Has a shine for sure! It could be in her locked closet, or a really big box that she pulls out and sets up right before bed and prays to it like a god. Has made a you doll and kisses it before bed.

“Please, let them look at me tomorrow— let them touch me in anyway! I’ll take anything”

Mentioned before she steals so she has your clothes, jewelry if you wear it, even your homework you threw out just to see your handwriting. Pictures too…..I wouldn’t put it passed her to have hair.

If you tell her you like the outfit she has on, wears it and similar things from now on. Maybe she was wearing Minas or the other girls clothes. She will burn her own and replace them immediately of things you like.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Doesn’t really get more dangerous because she’s not a “dangerous” yandere. She’s just a stalking/worshipper yandere. Kinda like your own personal cult follower if you will.

Only way she would hurt or kill is with the other girls. And even then it’s a stretch. Unless it’s a female that she or the group doesn’t know, then she would hurt someone.

Wouldn’t kidnap you on her own though, like Kouda she will trick you into living with her. But wouldn’t be mad if the group wanted to kidnap you.

Shocker- wouldn’t punish you and really tries to tell the others not to.

Cult type again, wants to be hurt or have the restrictions that you do just to know what you’re going through- even will let you yell at her to let your frustrations out. She’s there for anything you need!!

Punishment on her own is trying to ignore you for a while, but ends up only lasting five minutes until she’s apologizing with tears.

Fumikage Tokoyami

I think also as equal to romantic or platonic.

Silent watcher type vibes. He stalks a bit, and his behaviors are hidden. Only ones that know about them are his classmates.

Watches you like a hawk- Ha! He really enjoys just watching you from a distance for a while, how you look when it’s quiet and your studying alone. What interests you do alone. And he doesn’t mind watching you hang out with others, he likes to see you smile. (Only with his classmates)

Kinda babies you. He just pushes you out of harms way even if you took down ten villains, “I’ve got you.” So that’s kinda babying. He knows your capable but he just really wants to be your hero. (Hero by skillet) But don’t get him wrong, he finds it cute if you’re powerful and take down villains! Loves the look of justice in your eyes.

Would he take away your hero license? Yes and no. Depends.

Can be easy agreed to it with others and by himself, but if someone makes a good point to keep you in the hero agencies he’s also willing. More Satou a bit when it comes down to it. He just wants you fighting low level villains, nothing high threat and will be there by your side.

When he does get out of the shadows he’s so chill to be around. Just stays by you and does anything you are doing. Studying? He’ll sit with you. Need someone to play a game? He’ll be happy to.

Gets flustered to. Complement this man and he’s hiding in the corner like Tamaki. Pat his shoulder and he’s gone.

He’s kinda just around you, not too chatty but not quite if you want him to be. He really just wants to be someone you want around.

Has a poem journal that he writes in daily and all of them are about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Jiro turn them into songs.

Would never ever hurt you! Who do you think this man is? I feel like he would raise his voice once out of concern once and then beat himself up over it and feel so unworthy of your attention that he wouldn’t speak to you for a month.

Small shrine, like a deity’s. Candle, rocks and other things you might like, about two photos and keeps it hidden in his closet. Lights it and sits at it while reading over his journal, then once again in the morning before going to class.

Dark shadow is kinda different then him and will shoot out of his body to talk to you. It’s so different. Tokoyami is sitting at his desk across the room while dark shadow is talking your ear off. That shadow really loves you and is so annoying, but it’s cute. Is the voice of chaos in Tokoyamis head.

“Steal their jacket, I wanna sleep with it at night.” “I could slap Izuku away from them—” “Did y/n see me while training? Did I look cool?”

Has stolen your jackets mostly, again anything you have left that he can find but isn’t too worried about it. I think the only reason he actually has the jackets is because of darkshadow taking them but likes them to much to give it back.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Dangerous? He could be but normally no, unless he snaps or is under the influence of the group.

Darkshadow on the other hand would be at night, seriously really. Have you seen him when he’s not controlled? Imagine as a yandere.

But alone I don’t think so. They both are kinda chill, even might let you live a normal life as they are your guardian. Like buying a apartment near you, watch you grow old as they do too.

Probably wouldn’t kidnap you. And if romantic, will try and make you fall for him so he doesn’t have to kidnap you! It’s so much better if your willing to love him.

Might hurt someone mildly if they are too close, might also kill somebody if they are trying to hurt you.

If kidnapped by the group he’s trying to make you feel better, get you out into the sun would be nice.

Punishment with him is light, will lock you in your room for a week, with limited screen time thats only tv for two hours a day, but of course feeds you everything you need.

But with the group he’s not going along with anything they say. Hates strong punishments they give you, and has had to be knocked out to get him to stop fighting back.

Yuuga Aoyama

I am mostly writing for platonic but imagine what you want!!

Fanboy Cult and worshiper. He’s strange to describe. Thinks the world of you, thinks you are better then everyone else, but “You could use a better wardrobe.” You know? Might see you as a doll of some sort.

Thinks he can “fix” you imperfections that still make you so much better then the rest. Outfits, your hair, makeup if you wear it, how to make yourself a flashy hero. He has pointers for everything!

He really does love you tho. Will get you a red carpet and have you walk it all day long anywhere you go because you deserve it.

If you have a powerful quirk? He’s jumping behind his savior. You wanna protect him, you’re the most precious on the earth. So he pays you back by being your most loyal follower!

Meets with Hagakure to do trades of your stuff he steals because he’s constantly in your room, even if you try and push him out. Like I mean this man has bags full of stuff from over the year of school and everything.

“I got hair brushes, toothbrushes, earphones” the list goes on and on for dealer Aoyama.

Even if not romantic, he’s laying on you while watching a movie, that’s just him- and giving you cheese! If your lactose intolerance, he found a way to give you fake cheese that’s so expensive.

Does baby you so much as try and guide you like a personal assistant. “Straighten your back” or “use more of your leg power” in training or taking pictures, anything you can think of. “Throws” out your clothes and gets you new ones that make you look better. Like I said, you’re a doll and he’ll pull the strings!

Using so much guilt trip on you, you might be color blinded to a red flag. Hangouts, you said you would? Why are you lying, did you forget you promised?.He is trying to get every ounce of attention from you he can, and if it means making you feel a little insecure he will do it.

But is still a follower so he will try and impress you himself, after all you’re his god! Need something expensive, take his money! Eat his food. He doesn’t really care what you need, just call on him and your wish is his command.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

The exact same if in a group of alone. He’s obsessed over you, and ready to be your follower.

Doesn’t hurt or kill anyone. It’s not his style, might ruin a nail or get blood on his clothes. No he’ll leave that to the others.

Kidnap? Not alone, he’s making you move in with him in a big mansions where you have everything you want. Pays for everything so you can live like a god.

But not against it in a group, still decorates you new home with things you like. He doesn’t care, he’s just going to be with you!

Punishment— Taking away your cards so you can’t shop. For a week, you can’t use his money.

“I’m not cruel,” he whines as he places things he bought for you on the table, “I just said you couldn’t buy anything.” Feels so bad he caved and buys shit for you, only to give you back the cards.

I feel like gift giving and money is his way of showing his love. You need him- you can’t leave him if you need money to survive.

Group punishment: no matter what happens he’s going to buy you shit to make you smile again. Wouldn’t be in the same area if they do something other then locking you in a room.

Mashirao Ojiro

Romantic, but also platonic and wouldn’t force you to like him back.

“Friendly” obsessed protecter yandere. If romantic, he’s the secretly in love with you best friend.

Even if your quirk is more powerful then is, he’ll still stand in the way of danger for you, his darling.

Masks his behaviors well, because he’s just a cool loving best friend. Nothing weird about it. I believe he started out slow, even if he was still obsessed with you. If the class was acting on their tendencies, he pulls back and makes himself look like the most uninterested one there.

So you obviously go for him and befriend him. While the others flock towards you and constantly bicker over you. Ojiro got your back for just being a friend! And he really plays it so well, man manipulated you into thinking he’s normal. 😐

Until he wasn’t, or you were more comfortable now and best friends. He started to touch you more but not as often as the others— and in subtle ways. Like pats on the head, shoulders, then helping you train and pushing your body around. Then comes your head on his shoulders, or his arm around your shoulders. He’s still soft about it and never does it for long.

He doesn’t baby you, but teases you like best friends do. Or helps you when you need to be help. The only time I see him “babying” you is in combat because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. (Boy- you just took down a super villain)

You have access to his tail at anytime of the day, keeps it looking nice just for you and allows you to do anything. Like put bows on it, braid it, you wanna put some semi-permanent dye on it? Go ahead.

Does stalk you sometimes but hardly ever. Or, follows you around. He does have a tracker placed on your phone so he knows exactly where you are.

Hang outs in your room all the time just to play video games and study. He’s always trying to make you laugh.

He does steal. Leaving things in his room? He doesn’t remember you leaving it, maybe check your room! Almost anything you leave in his room is his now, and boy does he gaslight you into thinking your crazy.

Shrine! Shrine! Closet shrine for sure so he doesn’t knock anything over. Pictures, things he stole, flowers, small notes he’s written to you, anything.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss. Can’t tell his tendencies because he hides them, or makes you feel insane for thinking he’s weird. I means, he’s nothing like the rest of them so maybe you are just paranoid.

“Don’t sweat it, I once thought denki would hide in my room to play with my tail,” he just smiles and shrugs off your accusations. Inside his screaming to not mess this up.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Not dangerous alone, not dangerous at all even if he went crazy.

Listen I love this man but he wouldn’t scare me as a yandere. Because he is still sweet and loving, even if he is a little crazy.

But he would beat up people don’t get me wrong, or threaten them anonymously and frighten them so much. Really just threats people to stay away from you. Has giving his fair share of black eyes.

Kidnap? Yeah, I think he would. I feel like this guy would kidnap you if he wanted to. Because you trust him and it’s easy to let you guard down around him, so he slips something in your drink and takes you to your new home!!

So he is okay with the group kidnapping you, and wants to do it in a non traumatic way. 

Punishment: might chain you up and lock you in a room, but he’s not cruel. Gives you good meals but no desserts and plays a movie for you every day for entertainment. Only stops when you’re ready to say your sorry for what you did.

Group punishment: doesn’t wanna hear about hard punishment if you get them, so he just visit you when it’s all over or going on. He will try and comfort you like he always did, let you pet his tail and even wants to hold you while you cry!

“I’m sorry pumpkin, but this is all for your own good! Now just cry and eat your dinner.”

Mezou Shouji

Lemme start off by saying this, I don’t write for him a lot- BUT BOY DO I LOVE THIS MAN.

Can be seen as platonic or romantic, kinda going for both.

Protective sneaky watcher yandere. A lot like Tokoyami in so many ways, likes watching from a far. I think he wouldn’t know how to express his feels because he just feels so much and doesn’t wanna scare you off. So when is around you, he’s silent at irst.

Has the main three type of protective behaviors, like pulling up behind him or fighting for you. Doesn’t care if you can snap you fingers and everything is gone. You’re his darling, If you powerful- in his eyes you’re weak and need to be sheltered from the world.

So is all in favor to make you stop being a hero, might even be the type to frame you if it feels necessary. You might be able to convince him to be a sidekick for him or another hero WHO he also follows around. You’re not fighting pro level, help the people who have stolen bicycle or lost their cat in a tree.

Did someone say stealer? HIDE YOUR SHIT! Lost a item? Found your drawer half open and missing a shirt or other things? Shouji breaks into your room, even finds Deku, Shoto, and even bakugo and the girls in there sometimes. Doesn’t care, they snoop together. “This never happened.”

At first he was scared of frightening you, but slowly over time he warmed up to you. So much that you both became friends, or friendly acquaintances. MF would pat your head so much like you’re a pat. From getting a answer right, to eating all the food on your plate, headpat for his darling.

Holds you all the time in his little arm holder thing, like he kept Froppy in, or just wraps all his arms around you. You better hope you can tolerate him because he’s not letting go.

Might baby you a little but not to hard. Mostly pats on the head, candy for being good- wait, let him tie your shoes. Babying without degrading words. (Unlike Bakugo)

Does have shrine- or at least kinda. Just has a pile of your shit and hides it, then at night he smells the clothes and holds them close. No candles or anything. Probably has a photo shrine tho.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

He’s not that dangerous, leaves violents mostly to the others and takes care of you. But alone he’s not doing much.

Would kidnap you. Alone or with a group. The only one on this list that would probably go with the group to take you away.

Alone, it’s nice because he just wanted to cuddle and protect you. Will chain you if you don’t behave and will keep you like that for life, so just be good! Buys you anything you want too. Food, clothes, games. Might let you out of the house but only in private areas.

Grouped, really just wants to be there for you and with you. So, he just stays near you, or watches you from the security cameras while you sleep.

Punishment alone- chained up like I said but not much more, unless no contact with you other then food. Leaves you alone in your room until you’re saying sorry.

Punishment grouped, same as alone. He’s okay with it unless they wanna hurt you, then he draws the line! No one should hurt his precious darling! Will be there with a comfortable hug no matter what happens!!

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[thesilmarillionblog]

IMPOSTOR

Summary: Black Noir discovers he has been replaced after he wakes up from his two-month stay at Vought Hospital. He doesn't take it well.

Characters: Black Noir, Fake Black Noir from The Boys (TV) Season 4

Warnings: Violence, language, soft Black Noir, brutal Black Noir

Word Count: 1551

A/N: English is not my first language.

͟͟͞͞➳ This fiction is a gentle fuck you to E. Kripke. New Noir is not my Noir. I love Nathan Mitchell a lot, though. Babygirl. ✨

A deep sense of sorrow and suffering overcame Noir as he used his gloved hands to rub the long scars on his abdomen. Homelander, whom he considered a friend, had nearly killed him just because Noir hadn't informed him about his biological father, Soldier Boy. Since they had been keeping this a secret for decades, Vought wouldn't be grateful if Noir told a thing. Though he didn't intend to break Homelander's heart, he had struck him so hard in the stomach that he could see his organs everywhere. He felt, nonetheless, that he handled confronting his past quite nicely.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that the CIA had captured Soldier Boy once more. Decades later, when the time came, he was not sure if he would see him face-to-face, but he knew he would be prepared. 

He feared he would die there, too, when Homelander buried his full fist in his abdomen, but unexpectedly, Homelander gave him a lecture about friendship and honesty before giving him a significant dose of Comp-V in order to save him. Noir knew that, beyond his strange idea of his friendship, Homelander was really furious and disappointed with him. That is why he forgave Homelander as just like he forgave Noir. 

Noir spent months in the Vought Hospital before preparing to rejoin the team. 

Ashley whispered, “Sir,” as Noir continued to stare at her expressionlessly. Ashley had a nervous smile on her face. “I think I must inform you that you are replaced by someone else.”

Noir straightened abruptly, moving in closer to Ashley to get her to clarify exactly what she was telling him. He let out an irate sigh and waited for her to go on. 

“The public was asking about you, and to not make things anymore complicated, Vought decided to take a new Noir into the team, looking just like you.”

Noir thought, Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was unfair. Fuck Vought and everyone. 

That was not only impossible but also a massive betrayal of his complete allegiance to Vought. He had served the company for years, and that was how they repaid him.

Noir began to inhale in rage as Ashley left the room swiftly without saying anything further. He wouldn't allow a fake to lead those who supported him to believe he was the real Noir. The true Noir was Black Noir. End of discussion. 

Picking up his phone, he sat down in the middle of the hallway to see the latest news and check the most recent updates about himself. 

He snarled with hatred as he saw his own supporters applauding the imposter while he was acting foolishly in front of the camera. They had no idea that he had suffered greatly in the previous few months and had experienced a near-death experience. How could they not see that it was obviously not him? 

Noir lost all patience with the nonsense and smashed the phone between his hands violently. He then placed his hands on his head and considered the next step of action. He would not give in so easily. Noir would absolutely teach the false one how to act appropriately in public, as it was evident that he didn't know how. 

He looked up and saw that one of his duck friends was clutching his hand. 

“You were incredibly brave and strong to withstand such an attack from Homelander. We are all proud of you,” he replied, giving him a shoulder pat. 

Noir crossed his arms and looked away. No matter what, he wasn't satisfied with the circumstances surrounding him. 

“Come on,” his friend said, giving him another leg squeeze. “The new one is not as good as you, and you can prove everyone that.”

How? Noir pondered, unsure of what to do. Things would get much messier if he disobeyed Vought, and he really didn't need that at this point. 

“You embody the true spirit of Black Noir, while he lacks your strength and bravery. Given your current state of recovery, Vought wouldn't have any problem if you told him to move aside.”

No, Noir thought. Today, he was going to expose that fraud and prove to everyone who was superior. He would never permit somebody to behave in such a way. He was adored by everyone for his true self. He refused to give up all the adoration he had and rightfully earned. 

His friend sat by his side and said, “If you kill him, don't you think Vought will get angry at you?”

They won't give a damn. They never do anything if the company is involved. Noir did not know a life outside of Vought and Homelander, so even though he was terrified of them, he reasoned that one act of disobedience wouldn't harm anyone and that no one would give a shit.

Noir made up his mind then and there, dropping his damaged phone to the ground as his friend passed by.

He said, “I'm so proud of you,” and then he vanished once more. Noir felt joy and satisfaction fill his heart. He was confident that he could handle this circumstance as needed. Just like he always did.

Noir waited for fraud to appear in his home for hours while tracking and waiting in a shadowy place after sharpening his knives and weapons. Admittedly, he was a little dramatic, but he knew it would be effective.

When the new one eventually came inside the house after many hours, the fake one noticed something wasn't quite right. An odd fragrance permeated the entire place. Then Noir emerged from his hiding place, his blades sharpened in his palm, and wandered slowly in front of the window, the moonlight brushing over his helmet. He was satisfied that his entrance proceeded exactly as he had planned and knew he looked fine and cool enough.

“You are a strange one, dude; fuck off,” the man laughed. “If you just gave me a call, I'd have invited you, you know.”

‘What a bitch’ Noir thought to himself, growing more irate as the new guy spoke without pausing. 

“Heard Homelander beat the shit out of you.” He inquired, “How did you even survive?” Noir stopped pacing and glanced at him. His wounds hurt when Homelander was brought up; he remembered all those painful memories. 

Noir tucked his knives away in the back of his suit and showed him the papers he had prepared, telling him the one on which he had written ‘now I kiill you.’ 

“Man, fuck you. You're not as scary as you believe, and you're forgetting that, despite the fact that I am a supe, Vought purposefully picked me.”

Noir laughed beneath his mask, but his laughter was more of a fury than an expression of joy. Next, he handed the new one another piece of paper and said, “Nobody nevv me. I am unigue.”

He firmly challenged him, saying, “I'm not the new you,” which wasn't a wise move given Noir's desire for a real fight. After all, he spent his months doing nothing but lying in bed; he was hungry for a proper fight. “I'm superior to you in some way. People adore me.”

It's me they love, not you. 

“Guess we have to solve this fucking mess fist to fist, man to man, huh?”

Noir, unable to contain his resentment and hatred any longer, grabbed his knives and swiftly assaulted the impostor. Noir laughed this time because he could feel the fake one's anxiety and tense breathing. He was certain that he would be too strong for this feeble con artist.

He made an attempt to fight Noir with his pathetic fists, but Noir knew that man was much weaker than expected, so he dropped his knives and took the man's head, ripping it from his body in one motion. He was holding his bloody head in his palm, his entire suit smeared with blood. He placed one hand on his hips, and, for a time, he was unable to stop grinning beneath his mask. Vought found him specifically for the weakest man alive. Or not anymore. 

Noir put his head down on his desk and peered expectantly into Stan Edgar's eyes, displaying all of his brutality and pleading with him to return to Seven immediately. Enough time had passed. 

“What the hell, Noir?” With a disgusted mutter, Edgar averted his gaze from the bloodied head. “Get this thing out of my sight, oh god.”

Noir remained motionless, waiting for him to make a statement. 

“You're back to Seven, okay. Are you happy now?” He said it hastily. “I was already going to kick him out, you sick maniac fuck.”

Noir nodded to Edgar, took the head back off his table, breathed a peaceful sigh, and exited the room, placing the lifeless head in the closest container. 

That is where you end your head up if you fuck with him. 

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A/N: Here's my other Black Noir fics: Stranger and In the Middle of the Night. Stay tuned for more and let me know what you think!˖ ࣪ .♡˚.