#I HAVEN'T PAINTED IN SO LONG THIS FEELS GREAT

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[nocturniashifter]

𝓦hat your s/o loves about you | pick a pile.

Disclaimer: All readings are done for entertainment only, don't use my readings as a replacement for legitimate advice. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

How to pick a pile: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that caught your attention.

MASTERLIST | PAID READINGS

PILE 1

Songs: Cookies - NewJeans, Drama - Aespa, Love me like this - NMIXX, Girls - Aespa & Amazing - Red Orange County

In this pile, the vast majority of people are not yet together with their s/o and some are already in a serious relationship – such as dating or even marriage. Regardless of what your situation is, know that your s/os love you and feel like they are in paradise when they are with you. For those who are not yet in a relationship with their loved ones, all they want is for you to love them back – and you really do love them, but you haven't told them yet so they are left in the dark not knowing how you feel – and they keep that hope in their hearts. Even for those who are not with their loved ones, there is a game of conquest going on here – with flirting, seduction and a desire for the other person to reciprocate their feelings and attitudes.

In both cases, your partner feels that you have a great power of attraction over them – they find you a very attractive and seductive person, even tempting to them. They may think that there is no one like you, no one who can leave them so mesmerized.

One of the things your s/os love about you is how strong and independent you are. They know that you have faced several difficult moments in the past and even face them on a daily basis and that even so, you kept your head up and managed to deal with it – you managed to take control of your own life, put yourself as the protagonist of your own life and can now deal with any challenge that arises in front of it. You redefined the way things were and understood that these challenges are opportunities to grow and be the powerful person you are. You may even be a more daring, sassy, courageous person who doesn't like to follow the rules but rather creates your own – and you can be sure that your s/o loves that about you.

They are very protective of you and love physical contact – especially cuddling with you. Furthermore, they think you are a very skilled person at what you do – you may have different talents such as cooking, playing instruments, painting/drawing and many others – and they may be very surprised and admired by this.

In the past, they may have been lonely and even sad people, but when they met you, it was as if all they saw was you and they couldn't take their eyes off you from that moment on. It was a big attraction that was hard to ignore and they honestly feel like you saved them from that loneliness and sadness. They think you're amazing and think you shouldn't change anything about yourself.

PILE 2

Songs: YOU(=I) - BOL4, Drunk-Dazed - Enhypen, Young Dumb Stupid - Nmixx, Limbo - Stray Kids & LALALA - Stray Kids

Your s/o loves you very much and can't stand being away from you for a long time because they miss you and that can make them clingy sometimes. Their love language can be physical touch – because they really like cuddling with you and it makes them melt inside, even being close to you makes them happy – and words of affirmation, because if they could they would tell you that love every day. You seem to be a couple who take their relationship lightly, have a lot of fun together and are always laughing or with a smile on their faces.

They feel like you have them wrapped around your fingers. But sometimes they can whine and pout to get what they want and you can't resist and end up giving in, so they get exactly what they wanted from you - and the opposite can happen too, you just have to do it like that 🥺 and they melt and cannot resist. Your s/o might feel awkward around you because they still get nervous and have butterflies just from you holding their hand lol – even though for some of you, you've been together for a while.

Sometimes they may feel that they are not good enough for you and may compare themselves to other people. They may also be afraid that your relationship will end at some point and all that will be left are memories and a feeling of sadness. But just reassure them that they are more than enough, that you love them, and that they shouldn't let these thoughts control them.

You are a young person in your desired reality and you can be someone who is very confident, who is not afraid to chase your dreams even if the people around you may try to demotivate you by saying that you won't achieve it and also someone who is not even a little worried about fitting into the boxes that society expects people to fit into – and your s/o loves that about you.

They love that you are a person who is free from the worries of life and who knows how to have fun and relax – whether listening to loud music, going to parties, etc. In their view, you are fearless and make your way the way you want & will make all those who doubted you bite their tongues while you live a successful life.

PILE 3

Songs: MANIAC - Stray Kids, Sticky - Kiss Of Life, Love Lee - Akmu, S-Class - Stray Kids & Magnetic - ILLIT

Your s/o loves how authentic you are and your true self at all times regardless of what negative people might say or think about you – you don't give a damn about other people's judgment and aren't at all concerned about pleasing other people . You don't change your ways for other people or try to fit in/follow what society expects you to follow and for many you may even be seen as crazy – especially if you are a famous person – but that's one of the things that your s/o loves about you. They see you as a star, you shine brightly and have a successful life, you are special to them and you are also someone very hot in their eyes lol.

Many of you reading this pile are not yet in a relationship with your s/o and they are dying to know if you are in love with them. Since you haven't revealed your feelings about them yet and they don't know if it's reciprocated or not, they're left wondering how much longer it will take before you fall in love with them and you can finally be together. They may even make the first move and ask you out, buy tickets to a show/watch a movie at the cinema, etc. – and if you are friends who have hidden feelings for each other, they may try to ask you out as if it were just a meeting between friends but it's not really lol. And since they know you, they would know exactly what you like and where to take you on a romantic date.

From the first moment they saw you, they felt like you have left a mark on their heart and that they are melting with love for you inside & these feelings may have been something new for them, even being strange because they were not used to this feeling. They feel an intense love for you and that is a feeling that won't go away. They may keep creating scenarios in their heads of the two of you kissing like in those romantic movies. When you guys are officially together, you can be a clingy couple lol.

Honestly they're trying to hide it, but they can't hide how much they want you anymore. Just seeing you from afar makes their hearts beat faster. They are really in love with you, even though you may be the opposite of each other but still they feel like a magnet attracted to you. And it's pretty strong that they will make the first move and come to you maybe in a hurry – especially if your s/o is female, they are braver lol.

That's it, guys! I hope you enjoyed it and that the readings resonated with you. If you would like a reading about your s/o, my paid readings are open and it will be a pleasure to assist you. Until the next PAP <3

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k) pair. aventurine x f!reader cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee. love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.

but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?

so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.

put on a show.

"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."

you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.

it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.

aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.

"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"

he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.

"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"

your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.

"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.

"who says you haven't charmed me?"

"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."

he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.

because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.

aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.

so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.

“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.

your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.

“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”

there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.

“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.

he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.

aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”

the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”

finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.

the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.

you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.

no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.

“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.

“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”

your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.

“like that?” he asks coyly.

you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.

“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”

you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.

aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”

the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.

he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.

“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.

and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.

“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.

“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.

he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.

aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.

he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.

then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.

“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”

and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[linkspooky]

JASON TODD VS. DABI: WHY NOT ME?

"You haven't been here long but you've seen him, right? The batman. The batman. He lives in darkness, to find the helpless and bring them into the light. So I have to wonder...why couldn't he do it for me?" The Boy Wonder: Issue #2

This is the story of the boy who didn't get saved. The story of a boy who really ought to have been saved. Of course, every victim deserves to be saved, but this boy was the son of a superhero. Can a hero who saves everyone, but fails to save his own son really be called a hero? As for the son, how does it feel to watch his father save complete strangers but let him fall to the wayside?

Jason Todd and Dabi are two characters with similar backstories and motives (so similar it's possible Dabi is outright based on Jason Todd) which are worthy of comparison. These are two tragic arcs which explore the conflict between a hero's responsibility to act as a father, and their responsibility to save people. As I said they are tragic because in both cases the hero fails, as a father, and a hero. However, I'm comparing the two because Jason Todd's story is a well written tragedy, and Toya's story is not.

If you were to write a story of my life, it would surely be a tragedy.

Aristotle's Poetics is the first attempt to define what Tragedy is, not as a story where sad things happen but a specific story structure. He outlines not only what makes tragedy, tragedy, but also what makes a good tragedy.

The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of a tragedy: Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in painting. The most beautiful colours, laid on confusedly, will not give as much pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.

I use this quote because the painting metaphor is a great way of explaining what I'm getting at, you can have a painting with the most wonderful colors, you can have a story with really good ideas like the Todoroki family plotline but if you don't use those colors correctly all you're going to end up with is a bad painting.

In poetics Aristotle clearly defines a tight well-structured plot as the first priority for effective tragedy, character as second.

Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator; as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long

To make sure you understand, it's vital in tragedy for all the pieces to fit together. Tragedy is a specific story format. Good tragedy uses the parts of a story well, but bad tragedy is sloppy and poorly put together. In tragedy, the whole has to be greater than the sum of its parts. The Todoroki Family are all good characters out of context, but the story could have enhanced their characters but detracted from them due to how poorly it is told. The fact that a lot of MHA fans are in love with the Todoroki family out of the context of the story, but also have constant complaints for how Horikoshi handles their plotlines is, in my opinion, very telling.

What Aristotle goes on to posit is the best tragedies do not come about by accident, but rather by the direct actions of the characters.

But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will thee be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. 

Therefore Tragedies require consequentialism, like Newton's Third Law, every action will have an equal and opposite reaction. To simplify a good tragedy arises from the consequences of the character's actions (or inaction). The most basic form is that the hero of the story will have a tragic flaw that they fail to improve upon in time and then leads to their destruction. In essence, tragedy is where the hero fails. Not only does the hero fail, but the hero loses, and that irreversible loss is what defines tragedy. Medea slays her own children, Oedipus rips his own eyes off and deserts his kingdom, Creon Antigone is buried alive and Creon's son, her fiancee, commits suicide.

These events share two things in common, they are irreversible (hence why they feel like good endings), and two they evoke catharsis. Aristotle defines the goal of tragedy to evoke terror and pity. We feel alongside these heroes, Medea was abandoned by the husband Jason who she left her home and slaughtered her own brother for, Oedipus did all of his crimes unwittingly and is a victim of fate, Antigone was doing the right thing by burying her brother so his soul could pass on to the afterlife.

There's all different sorts of tragedies, Hamliet explores more here. I'd say UTRH and Hellish Todoroki Family are tragedies centered around grief.

Tragedy works on extreme emotions, and extreme hard-hitting consequences to the hero's failures. The worst thing a tragedy can be is boring.

The Tragic Hero

Now that I'm done lecturing you let's actually talk about both My Hero Academia and Batman like I promised. Both of these stories don't actually feature the central victim as their protagonist, and that is a feature not a flaw.

Rather, the story we are being told is that of a tragic hero, failing to save a tragic victim because of their own personal flaws.

These flaws are called (hamartia) or "error in judgement". A hero, being called a hero of a story is often unaware of his flaws which is central to what makes them unable to fix those flaws in time. That flaw can later lead to a moral failing, such as Othello's jealousy, initially jealousy is an understandable emotion, but then it leads to him trusting Iago over his own wife and killing his wife in a rage.

Most importantly, the hero’s suffering and its far-reaching reverberations are far out of proportion to his flaw.

Let's begin with talking of the heroes and their flaws, Batman and Endeavor. My main reason for comparing these two is in these specific stories they have the same flaw, inability to move past their personal guilt towards their son, and the same conflict the duty of a father versus the duty of a hero.

However, Batman functions as a tragic hero, and Enji does not. The summary of their conflict is right here in these two panels.

A parent is required to place their children above everything else, because they are the ones responsible for bringing that child into the world. Bruce Wayne made the decision to adopt Jason. Enji made the decision to have children, however with Enji you have the added insidious motivation of he only wanted to make designer babies and just didn't care for the ones who didn't turn out right.

Bruce attempts to do both, to act as a father for Jason and also a crime fighter as batman but he can't do both. This comes to a head in Death of the Family when Jason is having serious trouble because of his lack of a strong parental figure, and Bruce knowing that Jason is in trouble chooses still to go off and fight crime instead of staying with him. The choice to place crimefighting over the child they chose to take responsibility for has the unintended consequence of getting that child killed.

Whereas Enji makes the same choice over and over again, ignoring Toya's clear troubles at the fact his father no longer spends time with him and choosing to run away to the world of heroes because he doesn't want to face the fact that his actions are severely hurting his son. Bruce's motivations are more sympathetic admittedly he wasn't actively practicing eugenics, but the choice is the same and the consequences are the same.

Both Bruce and Enji are forced to bear witness to the deaths of their children when they are not there, specifically because they made a choice to be a hero instead of staying by their child's side. A situation directly caused by their choice to be a hero over a father, and a situation that would have been avoided if they had stayed with their child in their time of need. Jason runs off when Batman tells him to stay and gets kidnapped by the Joker, if Enji had been on Sekoto peak that day Toya would never have accidentally lost control of his fire.

This is just the backstory however, the main event that kickstart this plot is the unexpected return from the dead of both Jason and Dabi. Each story follows the same plot beats. A new villain appears to challenge Endeavor / Batman. The villain reveals themselves as their dead son. Both Endeavor / Batman are given a chance to try reaching out to their sons, but they choose not to.

Then even though they are given a second chance with a miracle of a dead son coming back to them, they choose the exact same thing they chose before, being a hero and because of that the tragedy repeats itself. For both of them they are unable to save their son again, and the son goes through a second death. History repeats itself, the lesson isn't learned.

Their fatal flaw is their guilt. This is a story about grief and mourning after all, a son who is died, buried, but never grieved properly, never mourned, an open wound on the father suddenly coming back. The inability of each to process their grief blinds them from seeing the fact the son has come back, and they have a second chance.

Toya has internalized he is a failure, because Enji literally called him that. Jason believes that Batman thinks he is a failure. In both cases the father is the one who failed, Bruce at least acknowledges this but cannot communicate it in any way shape or form.

This guilt and responsibility both Enji and Bruce feel causes them to self-sabotage. They no longer have the confidence they are in the right (they no longer feel like heroes because they have failed to be heroes to their own son).

You can also add the layer of complication that since both men chose to be heroes in the past, they do not know how to handle the situation as a father now that they're being challenged to step up as one. Unfortunately, they are not the fathers that stepped up.

The reason their grief becomes a flaw is because they put their grief over their victims. . Each man is aware too much of their own failure, and while they should feel guilty they make the classic mistake of placing their own guilt over the feelings of the victim. The guilt they feel for causing the death and the genuine grief of losing a son is given priority over Jason and Dabi who you know... actually died.

An overwhelming grief and guilt is understandable because grief is a messy and human emotion, losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy that should never be inflicted on anyone.

Yet at the same time both Dabi and Jason are grieving to. This paradox that Batman only thinks of his own grief at losing a son and never stops to think about how Jason must feel leads to one of the best lines in Under the Red Hood.

"The father had lost a son, and now the son had lost a father."

Batman's guilt is so strong over being the cause of Jason's suffering, that the suffering of the victim himself is ignored. To be fair to My Hero Academia, the Todorokis say a similar line to Enji.

However, this is where I begin to get into the difference between ideas and execution. Tragedies are stories of actions and logical consequences, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in Under the Red Hood. Batman is punished for the choices he makes, the choices he doesn't make, and the choices he fails to make in time.

The Todoroki plotline features almost none of its character making any choices of substance, and because of that the plotline says the right things over and over again, but it all comes off as tell don't show.

I'm going to quote @codenamesazanka's post right here a couple of times because they describe the complete failure of the Todoroki plotline to show us a reason why we should be feeling things for the characters artfully.

We've heard Enji say this before - I'm sorry, I intend to atone. It's indeed the right thing to say, it's exactly what he should be saying and acting. Natsuo is declaring no contact - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. Touya calls him a coward - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. The public hates him - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. But you can only hear this so many times before you want to snap and beat the character, the story, the writing over the head with Enji's wheelchair. Why is that? He's behaving exactly as he should, and yet...

The reason why it fails to evoke strong feelings is because of what we'd called "narrative dissonance." The actions of Bruce and Enji are the same, they both neglect to do anything, make any real attempts to reach out to their victims because they're paralyzed by guilt.

However, we are told that they have entirely different arcs. Bruce's arc is a tragic fall. He's failing as a hero. While we are being told that Enji is experiencing an arc of atonement. Enji is supposed to be improving himself, and Bruce is supposed to be experiencing negative character development but they both do the exact same thing in story. Bruce neglects Jason, we are told by the story, by the characters in the story that Bruce is failing Jason. Enji does nothing in time to actually atone for Toya or try to help him, yet, we are told again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again that Enji is atoning with nothing substantive to show us this is the case.

To show what I meant instead of telling this scene is in chapter 252.

This scene is the ending point in chapter in chapter #426.

It's just him repeating the exact same sentiment and yet in a more than 150+ chapter gap, Enji never made any action to show he was now placing his family first. Enji didn't say anything to Dabi when he revealed himself as Toya. Enji didn't look for Toya in the months before the final war arc. Enji literally appeared on live TV in a broadcast that Toya was watching and said the very selfish "Watch Me" atone for the crime of creating Toya instead of literally talking about Toya or too Toya. Well, that would have rocked the boat too much... THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT. Enji had to somehow break from tradition or make some significant sacrifice onscreen to his social standing to show that he's willing to put his family first. Enji decides to go along with Hawks decision to not face Toya head on, making the decision to be the hero for the final time which directly causes Toya to get up after Shoto brings him down non-lethally and make one last attempt to suicide bomb for his father's inaction.

Bruce does nothing for a long time in Under the Red Hood. He ignores his initial instinct that Jason came back and instead makes a long investigation on whether or not someone can come back from the dead in order to distract himself. When Jason takes the mask off, Batman already knew but was pretending otherwise because he didn't want to face the reality.

Even when Jason takes his mask off, Bruce still takes on the "I need to investigate this" angle even though Jason calls him out that deep down he already knows it's the truth. This of course foreshadows Bruce's underlying flaw, he doesn't want to face Jason head on because he feels too much grief about what happened to Jason and his guilt is more important than Jason's own grief. Just as the father has lost the son, the son has lost the father.

What follows is several chapters of Batman fighting crime as usual and making no attempts to directly search for Jason. They cross paths a few times but when they do Bruce doesn't follow. In fact, Bruce only shows up when Jason sends Bruce a sample of the joker's hair and Bruce knows that the Joker has kidnapped him out of Arkham. Bruce almost lets Jason get killed by Black Mask because he doesn't know whether to stop Jason or save him yet again, and then they have their final showdown where Jason has kidnapped the joker to demand Bruce kill him, and Bruce finally attempts to talk him down.

Out of context it sounds like I'm describing the same plotline, to the point where if you haven't read either, it looks like I'm complaining baselessly. Why is one hero doing nothing until it's too late good, and the other bad? The difference is of course context, or rather framing. Bruce's actions are called out by the people around him (Dick, Jason, Alfred) as him handling the situation wrong. Whereas both Enji's internal monologue and other characters say that he is doing his best to atone for his actions and deserves a chance, but the events we are shown in story are the exact opposite.

Here's another example to SHOW my point. Here's Dabi with my special, hardcover edition of under the Red Hood.

I reread the entirety of the fourteen chapter plotline and the majority of internal narrations come from characters outside of Bruce observing his behavior and commenting on how differently he's acting. Jason's backstory for instance is told by Alfred, not Bruce. Dick Grayson the first Robin comments on Batman's odd behavior. The rest are the third person narrator. Bruce has four instances of internal monologues spanning a few pages each in a 378 page story. (Alfred has the most internal monologues and he's presented as a more trustworthy unbiased narrator than Bruce, to get us to question Bruce's actions).

"Information travels on many routes, sometimes it comes predictably like the tides. You just need to know where to stand and meet it. Other times it's elusive and you have to root through the garbage to find it. In the last few years I've come to rely on Barbara Gordon, Oracle, we all did. Utilizing every form of surveillance equipment she has been the eyes and ear [...] but those days are over. I can't rely on anyone anymore. [...] and tonight it's also about the company I keep. It's different with him [night wing] out here. I think about when he was younger, when I was younger, it was different, simpler and I miss it. I miss those days, for that it's hard to be around him.

This first internal monologue is a case of unreliable narrator, because as soon as finishing it Dick Grayson / Nightwing shows up, offers Batman his help and while Bruce at first refuses it the two of them are forced to work together to fight Amazo. What does this show us? Bruce is not alone, but Bruce actively acts like he's alone ignoring the feelings of the other people around him. It exhibits a flaw of Bruce and the bad headspace he is in mentally (if I remember correctly Stephanie Brown recently died in the comics while this storyline was being published. It establishes Bruce's improper coping mechanism with grief, and how he is going about it the incorrect way.

Bruce says I work alone, and then Bruce says it's easier working with Dick, I miss it, but I can't go back to those days. It's bruce's contradictory thinking patterns in the same chapter that stop him. it's bruce's fault he cannot connect to Dick, and he is actively mourning the past because his relationship with Dick has changed.

Now the final part of the monologue in that chapter.

He's quick. Not just fast, agile. He's not thinking about his next move, he's just making it. He's been trained well. And there's something about him. Something familiar. There was something interesting about before he cut the line, before it had been taught. That had to have been practiced. Either that or just plain dumb luck. No it's not luck.

This is the first hint that Bruce already suspects it's Jason from early on but is in denial about it. This unreliable narrator trope also gives an agency to Bruce's decision, he is actively choosing to ignore the possibility that it's Jason because it doesn't want it to be.

Whereas, a lot of Endeavor's plot takes away any agency from him. For example, he doesn't even know that Dabi is Toya, because if he had the sneaking suspicion and ignored it like Batman did that might have made him look bad. We can't have the main character in a tragedy looking bad now can we?

The second monologue is more denial.

That device is from Kord industries. I should know. Ordered it special from them. How can he have it? No more dead ends. No more questions. No more guessing. Tonight I find out what is passing for the truth.

Reading between the lines this is outright confirmation Batman already knows.

The third is a brief reflection in his feelings for Jason.

The armor has to be light enough to fit but strong enough to protect. But sometimes a great many times, it's not strong enough. It wans't strong enough for Barbara who has to fight from her chair. It wasn't strong enough for Stephanie, other dear soldier enough dear grave. And it wasn't enough for Jason. Willful Jason. Who ignored the danger. Who spat at risk. Who was never frightened enough. I've always wondered... always... was he scared at the end? Was he praying I'd come save him? And in those last moments when he knew that I wouldn't. Did he hate me for it?

This monologue directly shows without stating it outright, Bruce is prioritizing his feelings of grief and failure mixing them in with his genuine grief over the loss of a son. it's selfish of him, but grief is a selfish emotion.

Here's the thing Bruce is allowed to be selfish and to not have the correct reaction to his grief, because the whole story is centered on Bruce being unable to get his shit together in time, and this picture into his emotions is an explanation as to why. Bruce is afraid of being hated by Jason. Jason of course has every right to hate him for failing as a father, but still I think not wanting to be hated to a person you loved so much and feel genuinely sorry over what you let happen to them is an understandable reaction.

Meanwhile we have Enji saying repeatedly all the right things in his monologue, the selfless, I don't need to be forgiven, it's okay if they hate me, I just need to atone but he never actually does anything. There's no explanation for why he isn't doing anything either, so that narrative dissonance. We're shown why Bruce doesn't act in time, he's internally a mess to be frank. We are not shown why Enji doesn't act in time because his internal monologue tells us again and again he's committed to atoning and he understands what the right thing to do is.

As Codenamesanzanka says:

Enji is still saying all the right things, but the story isn't giving him the opportunity to actually do the right things. To have his new actions matter. I have no doubt about his sincerity in his mantra, but without the 'show', it's hollow. Similarly, "Let's talk" is actually kinda bullshit too, because it's so vague. This is less about Enji, and more about the writing, how it set up this scene. "Let's talk" or "I want to talk" or any of that variation is repeated 6 times, without anything more or specific added.

There's an excess of repetition of Enji saying he wants to atone, he's ready to atone, without any of that materializing in the story.

As @class1akids says in this reaction post:

It also feels also super-hollow to say he's sheltering the family from the fallout, after they've just talked about how Fuyumi lost her job (and got a new one through the connections she herself built). How is he going to do that?

The fourth because I don't want to write it down, it's just Batman monologueing on how his partnership with Jason is still good and explaining the technical details of his fight with count Vertigo. It's in chapter 10 if you must look it up.

So four monologues total. Two monologues establish indirectly that Batman knows that Red Hood is Jason and doesn't want to face him. The third monologue establishes why he doesn't want to face him, he's afraid of being hated. The monologue is in line with Bruce's actions in the story, Bruce investigates several ways of reviving from the dead instead of looking for Jason.

The character's reactions around Bruce are also talking about how he's not acting like himself. Especially Alfred's who speaks of Bruce's indecision, on whether to put a stop to or save Jason.

"It is curious. He is lost in thought. It is not like him to spend vast stretches of time immobile, where his mind is gripped in the solitary process of deduction. This is quite different. He is hesitating. At a loss for what to do. I believe it is about Jason. And whether or not to stop him or save him."

This is illustrated in two scenes later where Jason spends a long time simply watching when Jason is fighting enemies, first in a fight against Captain Nazi, and second Black Mask. Jason even gives a direct callout of that behavior.

Jason: What the hell took you so long? Couldn't decide if you wanted to let me live. Batman: Shut up and fight.

Observed by Alfred Bruce is completely stalling and can't choose, observed by Jason Bruce can't decide whether to let Jason live or not. Bruce hesitates twice. We know why. We see it in action. It's called out as flawed behavior.

Now let's cover all the tell that don't show that is Endeavor's many monologues.

Pro Hero Arc:

I have to safeguard the future for them. That's the job for whoever's on top. What about the lives I cut short? Just demanding forgiveness isn't enough, it's too late for that. At this point I need to atone there's no other route.

Hellish Todoroki Family 1:

I'm trying to make ammends going forward. It might be too late. but I fall asleep every night thinking about it. Lately it's been the same dream. The wife and the kids looking happy at the dinner table. But I'm never there with them. It might be too late but I fall asleep every night thinking about what I can do for my family. I wish you could be here too, Toya. It's always the same dream. My whole family's there but not me. If I really care how they feel [I'll remain here].

I'm not going to read 200 chapters so I'm just going to ballpark it based on memory. Here we go.

Dabi's Dance:

My eldest, Toya didn't harbor frost within him. He didn't have a way to overcome the inescapable downside of overheating but I nevertheless sought to raise the boy as a hero. [...] Because Toya had more potential than me I placed my ambitions on his shoulders. I thought it could be you. You could have been the one to reach my eternal goal. My frustration... My envy... The ugliness in my heart... you could have been the one to smash it all to dust.

Plot twist this is the only monologue I like. It's different from all the others, and it's the only one where Enji is being emotionally honest. He put the emotional burden of his own emotional insecurities on an eight year old child, and expected to live vicariously through him and when Toya failed to live up to those expectations he just abandoned him. It alligns what we have been shown so far, Enji is not acting like a reptentant man here who realizes the harm he's done to Toya and only thinks of Toya as an extension of himself and his own regrets.

The Fight Against AFO:

My mistakes took the form as Toya leading to many stolen futures. The past never dies. Rage, resentment and even penace wound together toward the future. And the future is a path for the young. A path with so many branching choices. That's why I must win this. [I'll keep paying my penance. I'll win today and keep my eyes on Toya.]

When Enji decides to double Suicide with Toya:

I take full responsibility. I swore to bear the burden and live my life atoning for it all. However, you've been watching me all this time. While I couldn't be there to watch you. You were someone I especially needed to do right by. No I can't let you meet your end alone, but I won't let anyone else get caught up in our tragedy.

Hellish Todoroki Family Final:

I came to talk about what's to come. I'm retiring as a hero. That was my initial plan even before the war started, but now I can't even walk on my own. The hero endeavor burned to death. Your flames were really stronger than mine. [...] You're right. You know everything about me, Toya. After all you were always watching me. And you wanted me to do the same for you, but I didn't. Not matter what anyone says your heat does come from my hellflame. From now on I'll come everyday, so let's talk. It's too late now, so let's talk. [...] You're free to hate me. Anything is fine really, so throw it all at me.

This one is spoken dialogue but it's still a four-page long monologue. Every one of Enji's monologues with one exceptionsays the same thing: I'm sorry, I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions.

We're repeatedly told Enji is atoning but he acts like Batman. Then, his actions should be framed as Batman, not atoning but avoiding any responsibility.

As observed by Class1akids when we were discussing the update:

Everyone else faces an uphill struggle with their lives, but we should all feel sorry for Enji atoning and being in hell. I hate Hori's compulsion to over-write his abusers and over-explain their atonement. He does this with Bakugou too but with Enji it's more irritating. It was so much more enjoyable when he just wrote the thing but didn't point at them and say -> look, they are atoning. Aren't they soooo cool??

Enji's internal monologues and the other characters frame him as some sort of martyr, while on the other hand it's clear by both Batman's actions and Alfred's observations he's not acting like his usual self. In fact, this is an interpretation of Under the Red Hood that I love from the writers of the video game Arkham Knight that does a less tragic retelling of Under the Red Hood:

Batman doesn't fight victims. He saves them.

Therefore if Batman is fighting Jason, a victim, he's not acting like Batman. I'm also fine with Arkham Knight being an Under the Red Hood retelling because it's a different story. Comics do this all the time, different universe versions, popular storylines adapted into different mediums. It also works as a commentary on the original story, by showing what Batman could have done to lead to a more positive outcome it makes Batman's choices in Under the Red Hood worse and more tragic because he could have saved Jason, there was still a chance.

So here we have two flawed tragic heroes who are meant to be both pitied and condemned for their actions. One of them is all pity with no condemnation. The other is both pity and condemnation, Batman is grieving, but also he's failing his responsibility towards Jason. Therefore one protagonist works, the other fails utterly.

I'm not saying abusers don't deserve redemption. I'm not saying Enji should have died in order to atone. I'm not saying that the underlying problem with the arc is that they decided to make Enji sympathetic and a focus of the arc. The most important problem is the breaking of one of the fundamental rules of storytelling: Show, Don't Tell.

The Tragic Villain

Not only does The Hellish Todoroki Family plotline fail to make Enji a compelling protagonist, it also fails it's biggest victim. Now, these are both stories that end with the hero failing to save their victim. So if both of these stories have the same ending, why am I saying it failed Dabi, but not Jason?

Well, let me explain.

Dabi and Jason are both villains turned victims. The stories themselves are about this ambiguity. How much should the be held responsible for their own choices? If they are actively harming innocent people, then shouldn't they be stopped? Should they be automatically be forgiven just because of the pain and grief they've suffered, even if they've been causing it to others?

Both characters are also reflective of their fathers because they are too being selfish in their grief, they want their grief acknowledged and so are violently lashing out.

Jason and Dabi both make plays at being vigilantes at first, Dabi wants to inherit Stains will, and Jason Todd wants to be a better bat-man by taking control of the drug trade in Gotham and cutting crime down by executing gang heads. However, neither of them are being honest with this and it's shown through their actions, both of them abandon their original plans.

In the final showdown all Toya cares about is facing Enji on the battlefield, and when he's on the brink of death his mind erodes to the point where all he can do is scream for Enji's attention while his flames get hotter and hotter.

Let's take about Jason first and how his narrative treats him a whole lot better and more sympathetically, with more humanity than Batman. Jason is still held responsible for his choices, he is criticized by Bruce for murdering gang leaders and passing it off as justice. He's also blatantly shown to be a hypocrite. My favorite scene from Red Hood: Lost Days, the official UTRH prequel.

"I want to kill the joker in a cool way. Just sniping the Joker from a rooftop isn't dramatic enough for me."

This scene, and the final scene of UTRH underlines Jason isn't executing criminals because he believes it's the right thing to do, or because of his stated motivation that killing the joker would prevent more future victims.

Instead his every action is to set up a scenario where he makes a selfish demand of Bruce. He wants Bruce to prove to him that he would choose him over being a hero, by setting up his final scenario. Him, the Joker, and Batman. Jason will shoot the Joker. Bruce has a gun. He can either choose to let Jason kill the Joker, or kill Jason to stop him, either way it makes it clear what Bruce's priorities are.

The underlying reason for this is similiar to Bruce. Just like Bruce, Jason is deeply afraid that Batman doesn't love him. That he thinks of him as a failure. (This is Toya's main reason too).

He also interprets Bruce's failure to avenge him to mean that Bruce didn't even care enough to mourn him. If Bruce loved him enough, he'd choose him over the joker, but he's so afraid that Bruce doesn't love him enough that he's going to force Bruce to choose.

Along the way he's also going to behead several crimelords in order to put an exclamation point on that point.

The way Jason completely unravels in the confrontation shows this insecurity, he begins with monologueing about how batman should totally kill people, until his fear that he wasn't important enough, and his grief at losing his father is revealed.

Batman: I know I failed you, but I tried to save you. I'm trying to save you now. Jason: Is that what what you think this is about? Your letting me die. I don't know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. Jason: But why on god's green earth is he still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the whole graveyards he's filled with people. The friend's he's killed. I thought killing me - that I'd be the last person you ever let him hurt. Jason: If it had been you that he beat to a bloody mess. If it had been you he left in agony. If he had taken you from this world. I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, this death worshipping garbage, and sent him off to hell.

Direct statement, it's irresponsible of Bruce to let Joker live after killing Jason and should have put him down to prevent future victims. Reading between the lines, Batman not taking revenge for Jason is a sign that he didn't love him enough, Jason loves Batman more because he would have taken revenge.

As the confrontation continues and Jason's mental spiral worsens, to the point where he can't keep up his pretense of self-righteousness.

Jason: I'm not talking about killing cobblepot, or scarecrow, or riddled, or dent. Jason: I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because...he took me away from you.

The father had lost the son, and now the son had lost the father.

Jason's revenge is just a cover, for his grief at losing Bruce. I think this also shows a really positive aspect of Jason's character to humanize him instead of condemning him for his actions to ignore or even justify the suffering he endured: Jason really loves Bruce.

I mean how meaningful is the statement: "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Bruce has been afraid to hear the whole time that Jason hates him, that he won't forgive him, but Jason loves him deeply. In fact his love is almost equal to his rage because Jason is a deeply emotional person, and these little details make him human and not just like a plot obstacle that Bruce has to face. A metaphor for his past failures.

Dabi is drawn as a crying boy who wants comfort, Jason is shown to be a crying boy who wants comfort through both dialogue and action without us directly needing to be told. It's a heartbreaking line and doing it because he took me away from you and it lands perfectly because the narrative wants us to just look at Jason's grief. It doesn't add an asterisk* even though he was in pain, he's done unforgivable things that can't be justified to undercut Jason's suffering.

In fact that might be another underlying problem with The Hellish Todoroki Family, the narrative tries too hard to make you feel a certain way instead of just presenting things as they are to make you come to your own conclusion. UTRH doesn't support Jason's revenge based serial killing of villains. It doesn't say he's justified to cut off the heads of mobsters. However, it doesn't excessively state "Well, I'm really sorry what happened to you but what you've done can't be forgiven" so we don't have to challenge ourselves to feel too much empathy for Jason's suffering.

Meanwhile even when Toya tries to express his rightful anger and grief, we're always met with someone shutting him down and saying well yeah, but you're wrong, involving innocent people is unforgivable.

As said by @stillness-in-green in the replies to this post:

I think so much harm (in-universe, but the state of the Twitter fandom makes me think the messages are pretty toxic irl, too) comes out of portraying the Heroes as needing to weigh in on the *morality* of the Villains' actions before they gauge "saving" them, when that is not a thing that glorified cops have any business thinking they have the right to do. Demanding repentance before the rehab is so bizarre.

You can say someone's actions are wrong without using it as a factor to consider whether or not their suffering as a human being should be acknowledged, and like I said there's multiple instances of people just yelling at Toya how immoral he is instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong.

(Okay, I understand that some people have interpreted this as a show of Honnae and Tatamae, the Todoroki's who are a very repressed household are finally talking about their feelings even if those feelings are selfish and ugly).

(I'm not criticizing Shoto for saying that the people he killed were his own choice necessarily, Shoto is a character who's actions need to be read more deeply than his words he was dedicated to bringing Dabi down without him burning himself any further start to finished. My criticism lies in the fact that Hori uses Shoto as a mouth piece because he thinks we need to be reminded that murder is bad).

However, even acknowledging that time and place man, time and place. They couldn't have done that in the aftermath, when Toya isn't burning to death?

Hey buddy, you're being selfish.

Toya: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING.

This is I feel the underlying problem with the way the arc is written, not because the Todorokis are a very traditional Japanese family and there are cultural reasons they express their emotions differently, I'll give a caveat to that it's a nuance I might not understand.

However, I am arguing the actual problem is tell don't show. Horikoshi thinks that we as an audience need to be told multiple times that murder is bad, and we cannot be trusted to interpret that on our own.

Under the Red Hood shows both sides of Batman and Jason's debate, and let's us just come to the conclusion that Jason is in the wrong because revenge isn't justice. Horikoshi reaches no shit sherlock levels of telling us that we're not supposed to approve of Dabi's murders.

it's also a matter of giving Dabi narrative space to express his feelings, like every time Dabi tries to talk he is continually shut down (Shoto does engage Dabi talk to him and listen to why he didn't come back though I'll give him that) and it seems to be to push forward this weird idea that you shouldn't sympathize with the pain Dabi has endured or the ways he's dehumanized unless he does something to prove he deserves to be treated like a human being first.

Jason gets to monologue and make an entire argument, and his argument also shows the depths of his love for Bruce and what a deeply feeling person he is, and how those feelings being hurt and twisted could logically lead to his lashing out.

Compare this to Dabi who doesn't get a final monologue, but is instead reduced to a completely mindless state where he just cries out for his dad's attention. He doesn't get to make his argument.

Jason and Dabi both choose to blow themselves up, but Jason gets enough character agency to show this is a deliberate choice he's making even if it's the wrong one. He retains his character agency and ability to make decisions until the end of the narrative.

Jason's also you know physically crying. The end result of the narrative is about wrong choices that both Bruce and Jason make together, and then suffer the consequences together. Bruce watches the same failure play out again and he isn't able to save Jason, Jason doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't get revenge and he doesn't get to reunite with his father. It's tragic for both of them, and brought about by decisions both of them made.

Whereas yes Dabi makes a lot of bad decisions leading up to the last war arc, but in the end his final fate is up to a choice Enji made to not face Toya in the final battle.

However, while the final consequence of the battle is brought about more by Enji's decisions than Toya's, it's Toya who endures all the suffering and punishment. It's Toya who is in an iron coffin, and doomed to slowly and agonizingly die with all of his skin burnt off unable to move. Toya doesn't even get agency after the arc is over. Enji still has a wheelchair, Enji can still move around, Enji's still fucking rich, he's not in prison for his actions, he as Rei wheeling him around.

Toya's agency and choices are all taken from him, presumably to serve the plot purpose of making Enji save him to finish off his arc, and then ENJI DOESN'T EVEN SAVE HIM.

Also I think it's important to mention, Bruce's tragic ending is brought about by him attempting to save both, trying to save the joker and Jason with the same action. Whereas Enji's tragic ending is brought about by Enji NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP. Yet, it's Dabi who has the lion's share of suffering, and is sentenced to this horrific state of being skinless in an iron coffin and only being able to be awake a few minutes a day with no choice but to waste away.

Bruce is also immediately called out for his actions, by the Joker of all people, you handled this all wrong, it's your fault. Bruce is right to not kill the joker, killing the Joker would not have solved any of Jason's problems, but the fact that he put off facing Jason for so long, and his inability to communicate that he loves Jason is what leads to Jason thinking that the only way to prove Bruce loves him is to force him to choose. It's because Bruce has utterly failed to show him in any other way that he is loved.

Joker: Oh my god, I love it! You manage to find a way to win, and everyone still loses. I'm going to be the one who gets what he wants tonight, badda bing, badda boom."

I'd also like to add that a lot of agency in Enji's actions are taken away too, to make him look more blameless. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't say anything to Dabi during Dabi's dance, he passed out because he had a punctured lung. It's not Enji's fault that he spent a month protecting Deku instead of searching for Toya, he had to protect innocent people. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't go immediately to face Toya in the final war arc Hawks told him not to.

It's not Enji's fault that he made Shoto and Toya fight like Pokemon instead of cleaning up his own mess, and also he feels really sorry for it and as soon as he's done punching the bad guy he'll look after Toya he promises.

Enji does get called out for this behavior but it falls flat because it only comes from the villain AFO, and Toya himself. As I stated above too, the ending is more influenced by Enji's actions not Toya's (because Toya's agency is stripped away until he's mindless) but Toya is the one who has to die while Enji gets to live and atone.

That is the real sticking point for The Hellish Todoroki Family, the way it ends.

Themes Are For Eight Graders

The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.

The above quote is from an interview with the writers of the widely hated Game of Thrones Season 8, which took a sudden tragic turn for Dany's character, gave her an incredibly dehumanizing ending of being put down like a rabid dog by her own lover, an ending that was neither foreshadowed nor did it match with anything written before.

In this meta here by @hamliet it goes far more into depth that Game of Thrones isn't a tragedy, but a piece of Romantic fiction (not a love story, Romanticism is a genre of big emotions, the beauty of life, larger than life ideas hence why it fits well with fantasy genre, it can be sad but it doesn't follow tragic structure).

Dany is a romantic heroine, a deconstruction of the idea of the classic warrior princess trope, and you know a colonizer, but she's not meant to be written as an inherently bad person. There are people who say that Dany was going to die in the original books. I'm one of those people. Me. However, context and framing matters, Dany for all her colonizing ways does genuinely want to do the right thing, so it's likely she'd die a heroic death as a reflection of her selfless intentions (and intentions do matter for fictional characters) whereas in the show she's put down as a villain.

Now watch me I'm going to coin a term for future literary critics to use: Narrative Gaslighting.

Narrative gaslighting is different then Show Don't Tell, where an author has just failed to properly show what they're trying to tell you in the story. Narrative Gaslighting is when a narrative deliberately tries to mislead you, straight up lies to you, or just insists things that did not happen totally happened guys. Much like real gaslighting, Narrative Gaslighting makes you feel stupid for interpreting things a certain way and insists you were wrong all along.

Narrative gaslighting is when Tyrian gives a speech that everyone should have suspected Dany when she burned slavers alive that she was secretly evil and would one day turn on them.

Like, no.

Dany is flawed because she is a foreigner, interfering with the politics of a different country that she does not understand in order to gain enough resources and men to return to her home country and invade that country to exercise her right as a Targeryn to uphold the divine right of kings.

Game of Thrones doesn't mention any of that shit that's in alignment with the previous actions in the story, it's just insisting the very ableist notion that Dany was insane all along and her violence towards other people is the result of her mental illness.

(Also before anyone says, so if she's a colonizer than how can she have good intentions, everyone is Bad in Game of Thrones, they're all waging war to vie for a throne, monarchy is bad guys. IDK how to tell you that Game of Thrones has gray on gray on gray on gray morality).

(Also this aside ties into the hangup of MHA and most popular fandom culture on Twitter, that Dany's moral failings somehow disqualify her from her humanity. In spite of the fact that on top of all of that she's a rape victim, and like, Dany's only on that continent in the first place because she was sold as a bride.)

But here's the same weird subtext that Horikoshi's writing of Dabi. The fact that Dabi was continually victimized and denied human dignity does not need to be addressed, because he did the bad things and didn't atone properly enough for it first.

In essence this random post on the gunnerkrigg court forums I found on the same day the chapter came out, displaying apollo's gift of prophecy.

"When someone is persecuted, it's important to inform everyone about their flaws. That way you don't have to feel anything about all the times that they were denied human dignity."

So, Dany is not written as a tragic hero but a romantic one, we as an audience are both meant to acknowledge her flaws and sympathize with her, not demonize her in an ableist way for being insane, and even if Dany is meant to die the tragic way she dies does not match up with all of the narrative foreshadowing that was built before that.

Like, for instance a lot of POC after the show ended kept telling everyone that Dany's actions in a foreign country were seriously problematic, and not only did the audience not listen but the showwiters didn't acknowledge it with the same subtlety as the books. So those people especially were able to pick up Dany's character flaws, and when the show finally acknowledged them it's not even in the way that critiques of the show were pointing out Dany's flaws it was just "she was insane all along." Not like taking time to go "no matter what the intention, interfering with the politics of a foreign country is wrong."

The problem with the Todoroki arc is essentially the same, down to the ableism (because outsiders continually call Dabi either a maniac or insane Demon without even giving credence to his grievances about hero society he's just reduced to an insane fringe element of society, and Dabi himself is reduced to a completely mindless, childish, insane screaming state where he can't make active decisions).

The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.

Everyone happy at the Dinner table and Enji not sitting with them.

"I wish you could be here, Toya."

"We all have to go stop, Toya."

"In that case, I'll make him sit down for a bowl with me."

Even Shoto's efforts to take down Toya non-lethally are rendered completely pointless, because Toya gets back up again and then burns himself alive (completely by his own choice so no one has to feel bad that they failed).

The story sets up the expectation that Toya is going to be brought home and sit down for a meal with his family. Then it makes you feel stupid for going in an entirely different direction. It was always going to end this way didn't you know The Todorokis are a tragedy?

Well, I just spent a very long section of this thesis statement illustrating that if it's supposed to be a tragedy, then it's still not written well.

It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved, only for the villain not to be saved and the story to just keep on going like not getting saved isn't a huge failure. This is something that should permanently destroy the main characters, that they got the chance to repeat Sekoto peak and be there this time and they all utterly failed. I feel bad for Shoto most of all because he did everything right, and he still loses his brother, but does the story show that?

The problem is the story is blatantly lying to you about the fact that Toya was somehow saved, even though he LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HELLRAISER. To quote Codenamesanzanka again:

But I feel the story couldn't give us that because it will remind the reader and everyone just how much Touya will be missing. In-story, talking any more will overburden Touya's heart - and how apt is that metaphor? So let's talk about how we'll talk, but that's all that's allowed here for this scene. Else we'll see how unfair it is that Touya has to be confined to this room, he isn't with his family and they have to come to this prison just to tell him about their day, and soon he will be gone. Details make it real, and it would've exposed the lie that Touya was saved in an actual way. The story knows it too - "this extra time Shouto gave us." This is all 'extra', and not the core. [...] If the story was sincere that this is a case of "it's simply too late" - as it should be!!! imo, to really drive in the clear point that they failed, they did not get the save they wanted, because that's the truth - the tone of the chapter isn't tragic enough for that. The tone is going for 'Making Peace With This'. We've skipped the stages of grief and all we have is acceptance. The characters have accepted this, and so must the readers as well.

Therefore it's narrative gaslighting, the story is making us doubt our perceptions and trying instead to manipulate us to feel a certain way. We don't have to question the unfairness of Toya's fate, because look at all the people he's hurt, and look how Enji is atoning and taking responsibility.

The story builds up the idea that Enji will choose Toya. That he will choose being a father over being a hero. Enji doesn't do that, and it's Toya who suffers the horrific, painful consequences while Enji gets off mostly scott free. Mind you it's also ableist to suggest that being in a wheelchair is some sort of life-ending consequence like he's fine. The story even goes out of its way to say how avoidable this ending could have been if Enji or Rei or someone lifted a single finger to give Toya the acknowledgement he wanted, and then gives it a "Too little, Too Late" conclusion but doesn't acknowledge that this is where it's ending and instead tells us that Enji has successfully atoned.

"Everyone's watching me. So this is what it's like. If it was such a simple thing, then why not sooner?"

If it was going to turn out this way Toya should have just died here, not because death would somehow be a mercy compared to life in prison, but because the Todoroki Family doesn't deserve to get to pat themselves on the back. If they let Sekoto Peak happen a second time, then they should have to deal with the consequences of that.

It would be consistent is my point. This is written as a "Too Little, Too Late" kind of ending, but we don't get the emotional response from the Todorokis that they've let Toya die a second time.

On the other hand, UTRH has the exact same tragic ending but it doesn't make me angry because it's honest about it. The Todorokis let Sekoto peak happen a second time. Batman let Death in the Family happen a second time, but look at how even the narration and comic panels of the story acknowledge it.

"Fate is a funny thing. It swells up like a raging current and we are forced to travel. It provides us no exit. No deviation. It drops us in a bottomless ocean and compels us. We either swim, or drown, and sometimes as we struggle against the tide, a great truth arises."

One ends with Enji meaninglessly stating that he'll spend the rest of his life atoning for Toya and watching over him (which I guess will be like two months tops) for the fifth time. The other ends with Batman being lectured by the Joker of all people of how he chose wrong and being forced to watch once again as a warehouse blows up, and he's completely helpless to save Jason.

UTRH ends with the message that Batman sucks, Enji's atonement arc ends with Natsuo calling him cool for atoning and UTRH makes me like Batman way more as a character. Whereas at this point I feel nothing from the Todoroki Family, except for a disgust for the way that Toya not only has to die, but has to die a slow, gruesome death while the rest of his family walks away with the small comfort of "oh at least we'll get to say what we need to say before Toya passes."

Especially with the fact that Toya's greatest fear was that when he died, he died meaninglessly because his family never grieved him and all moved on with their life. I guess we don't have to analyze how gross the underlying message that criminals don't deserve to be sympathized with because themes are for eighth graders.

EPILOGUE

The post is finished but apparently everyone expects me to cover every single possible angle even in posts this long.

You didn't address the cultural aspect. Under the Red Hood is a western story, and Todoroki Family is based on eastern concepts.

The post isn't about that. The post is long enough I can't cover every single topic. Here's someone who covered that topic thoroughly. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism.

Also, since the Todoroki Family obviously copied Under the Red Hood's homework, it warrants a comparison. Especially since it seems to critically misunderstand what made the original work.

Which is a valid form of Literary Criticism, as Ursula K Le Guinn once said:

 It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.

The Todorkis aren't all to blame for Toya. Natsu, Fuyumi and Shoto are innocent:

You're right. It's just easier to refer them as the Todorokis then specifying "Enji and Rei" each time.

You didn't mention Shoto once in this post:

I have no cricism for Shoto's role in all this. In fact I think he's the best written part. I praise it here.

Shoto is a good boy, and he deserved to spend more time with his brother. The fact he won't be able to sit down and have dinner of him, is the greatest tragedy of them all.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine having a spa day with Shanks

You: [trying to sneak to the spa and resort on the island without the crew noticing]

Shanks: [notices and follows in secret]

You: [makes it to the resort doors and does a happy dance because you were successful at eluding the crew ]

Shanks: so this is where you were sneaking off to.

You: eek! How long were you following me?

Shanks: since you left the Red Force. Why did you feel the need to sneak off to come here, no one would be mad at you for coming here. In fact, most of the boys would also enjoy it.

You: That's the problem, they'd want to come with.

Shanks: [cocks an eyebrow at you] and why is that a problem?

You: because they'd get too rambunctious and inevitably get me kicked out with the rest of them.

Shanks: that's not true.

You: Do you remember the resort on Flower Island? Or the Hot springs at Ash Island?? Oh, they set fire to the Butterfly Haven resort on Flutterwind Island.

Shanks: .... okay they do usually get us kicked out of places, and that fire was an accident

You: That's beside the point.

Shanks: well, what is your point?

You: if they come along, I won't be able to enjoy my spa day. All I want is one day without dealing with over a dozen loud men and getting spoiled by resort workers.

Shanks: they can't go one day without causing trouble, that's true... Fine, I won't tell them, but on one condition.

You: oh lord, what?

Shanks: I get to come with you.

You: counter condition, if the crew does find us, you send them away.

Shanks: deal

An hour later

Shanks: [a few mojitos deep and has cucumbers over his eyes] This is great, we should do this more often.

You: it won't do much good if you're drunk the entire time.

Shanks: Drunk? I haven't had a drop of liquor since last night.

You: You're literally drinking right now.

Shanks: I am?

Spa worker: [nods]

Shanks: really? I couldn't tell, I couldn't taste it at all. Y'all must use the good shit.

You: he usually drinks what's basically paint thinner.

Shanks: [mumbles] Paint thinner doesn't usually have that much water in it. [Turns to the spa worker] Can I get a pitcher of this stuff?

Spa worker: [sighs, but nods]

You: and can I get another slice of cake?

Shanks: you want more cake? [gets up and twerks at you] I've got plenty of cake for you right here, love.

You: [smacks his ass with the menu] Sit down you drunk fool.

Spa worker: would you like the strawberry shortcake or chocolate dreams cake?

You: ...[looks at shanks] both?

Shanks: [nods his head]

You: both [hands her the menu]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[ncis-nerd]

Unforgettable Rain

Boss Wanda Maximoff x College Student Reader , Wanda x Nat , Slight Nat x Reader

about: wanda asks y/n to come in on her day off, to "file papers". is that it or did she want something more?

secret untold au

The rain trickled down your window, you had it slightly cracked open. You didn’t want the rain to come inside but you still wanted to be able to hear it.

You loved the sound of rain, it was so comforting. It reminded you of your childhood when you would go outside in the rain with your older sister and father. You’d dance like no one was watching, it was so fun. You missed them so much everyday.

Especially when it rains, it was never quiet when it rained, not only because of the sound of the rain but also because of the laughter and giggles that escaped their lips when you’d dance so freely.

You sat curled up, drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate as you watched the rain. That’s when your phone got an alert. You got a message from Wanda, your boss.

Since that first day she would send you on tasks outside of her office, it felt like she was avoiding you. Her face once so warm and welcoming now felt so cold and distant. You were a little hurt by this, but you still had to do your job. Even if the two of you didn’t get along.

(5:38 P.M.) W. Maximoff: “Hey Y/N, are you able to come into the office? I know it is a bit late so I understand if you cannot.”

(5:39 P.M.) Y/N: “No, no it’s fine. I’m not doing anything, I can come in.”

(5:40 P.M.) W Maximoff: “Perfect, thank you darling.”

You threw on a hoodie, and changed into presentable pants before leaving for the office. Your mind still went back to your first day where you made a fool of yourself in front of your new boss. What a great way to meet her, by falling for her on the steps outside her own building.

When you look up, you find yourself at the office. It’s a quick walk from your apartment as you don’t live that far from the office. You noticed that the rain had stopped when you left your house. You however, failed to bring an umbrella with you. It had slipped your mind that the rain could start back up when you left your house.

You knocked on her door, “Wanda? It’s me.” You spoke softly. She opened her door to let you in. She wasn’t alone in here, there was a woman sitting on her couch. Not just any woman, the woman from her painting. Her wife. She was wearing a suit, her red hair in curls, it looked so free and loose.

The woman noticed your staring, that’s when her raspy voice spoke up “Hi there, my name is Natasha. My wife told me about you, Y/N Y/L/N right?” You nodded, her voice was so hypnotizing, you bit your lip.

“So, I hope my wife hasn’t made you feel uncomfortable but the reason I called you in on your day off was to ask you if you could file these papers for me?” She asked, handing you a box of papers in it. You nodded, reaching for the box. Her lips opened but no words came out, it looked as if she had more she wanted to say.

You found it a bit strange that your boss had asked you to come in on your day off just to file papers, especially since there were other employees that could do that task for her You shrugged it off and got to filing.

You felt Wanda and Natasha's eyes glancing at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation.

That's when Natasha finally spoke, Wanda's eyes darken. “So, Y/N.. I know we haven't known you that long but do you happen to be occupied next Friday evening?” Natasha hummed.

This sparked your curiosity as you had no plans that day, or at all. You were an introvert who happened to protect your peace a little too much so now you hardly have a social life.

The two women waited for your response. “No, nothing that I could think of. Why?” You asked.

“Well, my wife wanted to ask you if you would join us at this dinner party for their company. It's a business party.” Natasha's raspy voice spoke.

Really? They wanted you there? You were just some new intern but this warmed your heart that Wanda wanted you there.

“I-I would love that! But what should I wear? What's the dress code?” You stuttered, your anxiety running through your head.

What if you embarrassed yourself there too? What if your clothes didn't match the vibe? Your thoughts were racing. Natasha and Wanda could sense your anxiety.

Natasha quickly silenced those thoughts. She brought her thumb to stroke your cheek. “Well it's moreso just dressing professional but if it would make you feel comfortable, you can match with us, Detka.” Natasha smiled. Her touch was so warm, it made you feel better.

Detka? You scrunched your nose trying to figure out the meaning behind the foreign word. “Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Natasha and I will be wearing burgundy. You're welcome to match us if you want, darling.” Wanda spoke up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded and went back to filing the papers like your boss asked. After a while, Wanda checks her watch. “So late already?” Wanda spoke, shutting her computer.

You looked up as the two women packed up their stuff. “Thank you so much for coming in darling.” Wanda sighed, rubbing her temple.

Natasha frowned, sensing her wife's incoming headache. That's when you noticed the rain had started back up. Great.

"Are you okay?” You can see Natasha mouth this to Wanda. Wanda nods in response as they walk with you, out of the building.

“Oh gosh, do you see this rain Nat?” Wanda spoke, an ounce of concern in her face. Natasha nodded, “Yeah. Say, Y/N how are you getting home?” Natasha asked you.

“Oh I'm walking, I don't live too far.” You responded, gathering your things as you handed Wanda the box of newly filed papers.

“In this rain? Nonsense, let us give you a drop.” Natasha hummed. She didn’t want you to get wet or possibly sick in this terrible rain.

“Oh, it's okay you don't have to.” You immediately responded. You knew that it was a short walk and nothing new as you have walked in the rain (and danced in it) multiple times.

“Darling, we are giving you a ride. End of story.” Wanda spoke firm but you could tell that she just cared about you. Even behind that wall she ahd built up.

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - unbothered

a/n = ahhh, new account new beginnings (honestly, i haven't written anything in so long idk if it's good at all T-T)

summary = tsukishima accidentally reveals your relationship in front of the karasuno boys.

warnings = yamamoto hitting on you, nothing else i guess?

tsukishima tried to stay composed, but it was so hard.

back at the very beginning of your relationship, which was going strong for the last two months, both of you had agreed upon keeping it a secret from the rest of the team. the reason was simple. tsukishima valued his privacy, and that meant the less his teammates know, the better. if they ever found out he's dating someone, they probably wouldn't let him live; tanaka and nishinoya definitely being the first ones to do so.

especially, if they found out his dating their manager.

you being karasuno's manager definitely came with its perks; the two of you could spend a lot of time without it seeming suspicious, you could watch his games from up close and, aside from all that, you've made some great friends along the way. but there were also some downsides. and one of those was surely being hit on by other volleyball teams.

the nekoma volleyball team arrived around an hour earlier than it was expected for their sparring game. and since that very moment tsukishima had to deal with a certain second year ace shamelessly hitting on his girlfriend.

"she seems quite uncomfortable right now." yamaguchi pointed out, appearing next to tsukishima out of nowhere. the blonde boy was very aware of it, and it drove him crazy. he tried to seem unbothered though, only murmuring a quick 'yeah' as an answer.

you could feel tsukishima's stare burning into yamamoto's back as he tried flirting with you, walking after you around the whole practice room while you tried to do your patch of manager duties. you tried to brush him off, but the guy seemed not to see the signs. from one point of view, it was quite funny; but it wasn't as funny when you realized that meant he would probably hit on you for nekoma's whole stay here. and to your disappointment, the time seemed to fly painfully slow.

tsukishima observed the two of you as you finished preparing water bottles for the team, which meant you've successfully checked off all of the things from your manager to-do list. as you tried walking away from yamamoto, heading to the exit to get some fresh air, the bleached blonde cornered you, making you stuck between him and the wall, his face too close to yours for your liking. it didn't help that no one in the whole gym seemed to notice that something was happening.

no one except tsukishima, of course.

the blonde boy rushed over to you two without a second thought, grabbing yamamoto's arm roughly as he dragged the boy away, an almost angry look painted on his face.

"i would suggest you don't flirt with my girlfriend. ever again." he said, annoyance clear in his voice as he glared at the older boy, making sure to emphasize those two important words.

my girlfriend.

he left the boy standing with a shocked look on her face as he turned to face you, his expression immediately changing to a softer, gentle one.

"you okay, idiot?" he asked, a smile appearing on his face for just a mere second, but still long enough for you to catch it. you gave him a small nod in response.

"i didn't think you'd react at all." you said, tilting your head as you looked at him, a smile appearing on your face. "especially like that. you know all the boys are staring at us right now, right?"

oh. oh.

tsukishima forgot about that. he was too focused on you to remember that they weren't alone.

the entirety of karasuno's volleyball team was here, staring at him with utter shock on their faces from the moment he addressed you as his girlfriend. everything he's been hiding so well for the past two months was not a secret anymore. he did the only thing he could think of at the moment; grab your hand and quickly head out of the gym, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, much to his annoyance.

once the two of you stood in front of the building, tsukishima tried to seem unbothered by the fact he just unveiled your relationship in the stupidest way possible, but it was clear to you that he was fazed by the whole situation from the tiny details on his face, that were different to his usual expression.

"don't worry about that, tsukki" you said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "i'm sure they won't be too dramati-"

"I WON THE BET! PAY ME UP, ASAHI!"

the two of you turned your head towards the opened door, the screaming from the inside catching you mid sentence. you immediately recognized it to be tanaka; who was now jumping around his older teammate in excitement.

"or maybe they will be dramatic." you said, a giggle escaping your mouth at the image in front of you. tsukishima let out a sigh, clearly annoyed with the behavior he just witnessed.

"they're acting like five year olds. tsk." he stated, rolling his eyes as nishinoya and hinata joined tanaka on nagging their ace. "i can't believe those idiots are my teammates."

"well, at least now we don't have to be pretending in front of them." you said, a smile on your face as you turned to look at tsukishima again. "give them two weeks, and they'll put their excitement on something else."

tsukishima knew you were right, buy it still wasn't as comforting as he thought it would be.

"this will be the worst two weeks of my life."

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

hi! i found your au a while back, but i didn't know how to use tapas so i kinda lost track of your comic only to find it on tumblr again

i. don't know if this is the right place to be sending these kinda messages or i'm oversharing but! uhm. sorry in advance! and here goes-

i. haven't been having a good time lately but when i say your comic i ! it was a surprise! and a really nice one

i threw myself back into reading it- took me a few hours to get through all of it and

i'm really glad i did! genuinely! it's . really well written and i adore it so much. and your art style is really inspiring. i mean, i know it's based off the show, yes, but it makes me want to go learn and study from the show and like look through all the art

it's just really beautiful to look at and i teared up a few times while reading (bit emotional at times)

it's just. an entire experience, you know?

tension! dread! all the little references and details like steven mentioning that he could try to make children/gem pets and the "at least people actually like jokes". it's a funny moment in the pilot! this gotcha! hah! steven made the joke!

but here it's tense and harsh and just something that makes you pause

i love how you write stuff

it's funny and pulls off so many great jokes whilst also staying grounded and heartbreakingly beautiful

it makes me want to wail. to reach into the screen and tell the characters that they deserve so, so, much. to yell at them, sometimes. to do all kinds of things

it makes me want to paint and draw and create and it's just

really, really, inspiring.

i want to be able to create like you can one day. to make storylines and character designs and all kinds of things. i want to make people feel the rollercoaster of emotions you made me feel

and i'm going to work towards that! (well. after my exams are over, at least...)

sorry that this got really long! it's just really really amazing to see this and .i had to express it. steven universe means so much to me and sometimes creations like this just remind me just how much i adore this show

thank you for making this (alternate) universe!

thank u so much

genuinely, the fact that you took the time to write all this out is incredibly kind of you, and it really means a lot to me

thank u

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Payneland/DBDA fanfic recs

I'm celebrating 200 fics (yes I keep count, I'm a nerd) and over a million words read in these 3 months of dbd 🎉🎉🎉

SO here are a few of my all time favorites (trying not to mention too many of the already very known ones):

Joi de Vivre, by olympus_mons

my very first fave, explores Edwin's longing so so well. And the ending, bittersweet and so loving, uGH I LOVE THEM

---

wanted to be something (you couldn't put down), by Ink_stained_quills

also one of the firsts, so very well written and great feelings realization with a bit of misunderstanding to make it sweet

---

Of a youth who loves me, by Aliquis

ok yes this series is pretty famous but I can't just not mention it. it's so sweet and tender and aAAAAAAAaaa. just go read it. just go.

---

job officially jobbed, by vernesatlas

e-rated, so it's +18 only! canon divergent and really just the right fic to follow up the handjob comment. as simple as that. I needed it deep in my bones and it's so fucking hot

---

The Most Tender Place In My Heart, by coloursflyaway

also famous, although not as much as some of the others by the same author, but this is the best one in my opinion. the way edwin is open about his feelings here, the memories painting the whole picture, the way you can see charles working things out, it's so beautiful

---

dulcet tones of broken bones, by gremlininthemachine

this one HURTS. it's a lot of angst, let me tell you that. it feels very true to Edwin's character. mind the tags if there's anything you feel is too much for you. I cried several times. it was amazing. the ending is hopeful, but not entirely conclusive, as there might be a sequel coming on. ALSO it's not really payneland centric, but anyway it was maybe the most emotional any fic has made me in a long time

---

the ghost of the past that you live in, by ObsessedWithFandom

EXPLORING CHARLES' BISEXUALITY YESSSS I wanted something like this so much! really liked how it was played out, how each experience puzzled itself into his identity. the OCs are great. really lovely all around

---

Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup?, by RoseGanymede95

this is also a series and I still haven't read the unfinished ones, but the first two are amazing. those are case fics through and through, pre-canon, and I just LOVE their dynamic even if not explicitly romantic, and also the cases themselves and how Charles acts and UGH EVERYTHING, really highly recommend these

---

Nothing Left to Hide, by RoseGanymede95

listen this person is incredible what can I say. this is a very needed unpacking of hell's aftermath, mostly about how Charles is doing after seeing what he saw. it's a big hurt/comfort on this one. big on both. ugh so good

Well there's that. I hope you enjoy these as much as I did!

[verlaineszz]

hi!! Can you write a yandere ghost dazai x human fem reader fic?

A/N: of course!! (✦ ‿ ✦) I've been actually meaning to write a ghost dazai but a yandere? Oohhhhh sounds great! :D, thanks for submitting this lovely request of yours anon(≧▽≦)!

YOUR SILHOUETTE A PALE MIST, BURY ME IN YOUR KISS!

ᯓ ⁺₊ ๋࣭ ⭑♡— YANDERE! GHOST! Dazai X HUMAN FEM! Reader!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SUMMARY: Nearby a forest, there was a 1862 Victorian Mansion that still had strong walls and doors that stood strong against winds and storms. But there was something weird about the home, the past owners of the home were either found dead or moved out for good after just a week.

It was rumoured that it was haunted by a vengeful spirit, but no one dared to banish it or call in a priest.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ☠︎︎— HORROR + ANGST + SUGGESTIVE(?) + FLUFF

A/N: FINALLY A NORMAL REQUEST!! anyway, this fanfic may be abit long but apologies since you never really specified your preference for the fic but I'll try!! :D i haven't written yandere in a year so let's see what i can do. （＾ω＾）

𓂃 ࣪˖ ༒︎— WARNINGS : Blood, Death, Suggestive (?) , cursing, SLIGHT(???) GORE

You were currently moving in the old 1862 Victorian Mansion that was rumored to be haunted, obviously it was sold pretty cheap through the online site and the decor of it was absolutely marvelous, which made you not even care if it was haunted or not.. It was so cheap and so beautiful that how could you not buy it?..

The boxes of your things are already in your home and all you have to do is to unpack. You started unpacking and moving things around.

During your little unpacking session, you were gonna walk up the stairs but notice that there was this portrait shape that was covered with a red cloth that wasn't shown in the pictures online, you put the boxes down and decided to remove the cloth. When you slowly slipped the red cloth off the big portrait, there showed a man wearing a white jabot, blue and gold coat and a soft smile. This made you take a step back and look up and down to analyze the painting, the painting of the ridiculously attractive man.. Weird as hell!

You scoff and turn around to continue unpacking your things, but the second you turned around, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You ignored the feeling and continue unpacking.

While you were unpacking, dazai— the phantom of the house that is the original owner of the home was watching you, it was new to him.. A female unmarried tenant? This might be his best bet to scare the living shit of you, since he hasn't gotten a female tenant yet.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The unpacking was done and you were visibly tired, immediately crashing on the red floral patterned couch that was in the living room. The whole place looked old but aesthetically pleasing. There was a fireplace, a grand piano, a grandfather clock, bookshelf and a coffee table with a wood vase of belledonna. You sigu and cross your legs, tilting your headback, this scene wasn't unnoticed by the ghost of dazai osamu. He was watching you with curious intent, he was sure that he'd have you dead or gone in no time since he never liked anybody living in his home. But since you were.. Really pretty.. Why not toy with you for a bit before placing your life in a casket?

During the first night, you were there on the bed in your new room, scrolling on your phone before looking at the time, it was 9:56 pm..you gotta take a shower before going to bed since you had work tomorrow. You stood up and removed your clothing before grabbing a robe and entering the bathroom, you turn the water on and began showering, as you showered, you still felt a creep run down your spine, as if you were being watched.

In dazai point of view, he was staring at your bare face, he smirked and checked you up and down.. Seeing your hips, thighs, waist.. And... He chuckled silently, seeing you showering without a clue that you were being watched, he quickly left and decided to give you some privacy.

After showering, you slid into a thin night gown before laying down on the canopy bed and scrolling on your phone, but as you laid down it felt strangely cold, the windows were closed so how could this be cold? You wondered before the bedside lights started ti flicker, but you quickly dismissed it as old house quirks— "must be some random Victorian magic or something.." you mutter before you continue scrolling on your phone, dazai continued to observe you in the shadows, sometimes moving places from time to time to look like shadows were moving which you unfortunately did not notice.

He pouted as he noticed that you didn't see the subtle appearances he did before planning of a way to get a reaction out of you.

You put down your phone and decided to sleep, it was now 10:23 and you really needed sleep. You stare at the canopy beds ceiling before slowly closing your eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly, a sight that dazai found warm. He stared at you with a grin as the moonlight through the window shined upon your body.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧+

When you woke up, you felt like a hand was playing with you hair.. You immediately sat up straight and looked around, feeling spooked before taking a deep breath and getting out of bed to get ready to go to work then meet up with your boyfriend.

Whem you left, dazai stayed there, thinking about how to scare you even more, so when you left, he rearranged some of the stuff in yours house, small mischievous giggles came out of his mouth while doing so.

A few hours later.. The second you arrive back home and bring in your boyfriend, dazais expression from afar turned im disgust, obviously he didn't like other men in his house, especially when the man was with you when he just got a pretty lady in his humble abode!

your boyfriend wasn't really the most supportive person in the world or nicest.. He was just there, you didn't even know how you and him managed to get together when the whole relationship only felt one sided.

"This place looks.. Err.. Old.. You like this shit?" your boyfriend asked with a unimpressed look.

This left dazai pissed since he wasn't only in his house and taking you away from him but he was also insulting your choice in houses..

You and your boyfriend walked up the stairs to your room for some alone time, he sat there on your bed in a reckless way, he just laid there like he owned the place. He scrolled on his phone as you sit beside him on the right side of the bed and hug his arm, your boyfriend clearly couldn't care less which made dazai grumble silently in the corner of darkness.

You and your boyfriend were.. "cuddling" on your bed as he scrolled on his phone, probably lookin at other women before dazai got fed up and whispered something in his left ear to scare him— "get out, you scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens a little, looking at you with a pretty annoyed look, "did you just call me something?.." he looked at you, visibly pissed, pushing your arm away from him. "What?? I didn't?" you replied back with an innocent look, dazai watched the scene, not wanting to resort to something else to not scare you away from him, he looks at your innocent face, though he can see you, both of you amd your boyfriend couldn’t see him.

"yeah right." your boyfriend scoffed, moving you away from him before he continue scrolling back on his phone, dazai clearly picked up that your boyfriend did not get the memo.

A few minutes later, your boyfriend stands up, eyes glued to his phone— "im gonna go find the bathroom."

When he found the bathroom, he did his business and started to wash his hands, The bathroom had a bathtub with gold stands, a small chandelier, a mirror, a silver faucet and a white and gold marbled sink, on the sink was some soap and a razors. The lights started suddenly flickering, your boyfriend scoffed in Annoyance. "why the hell did that bitch buy such a shabby old house..?!" he muttered while washing his hands before met with a cold feeling behind him, he ignored the feeling but it was obviously lingering. His eyes were just on his hands as he washed and washed and washed, he kept coating his hands with soap as he continue rubbing violently, the lights started flickering more frantically. "fuck"

A whisper was heard from behind your boyfriends back, "off", your boyfriend gulps as he washed his hands more violently, he couldn't move. He couldn't look up. He didn't wanna look at the mirror infront of him to see what was behind. "scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens as he started to shake, he felt a hand wrap around his throat tightly, he looked up and saw nothing behind him but he felt something wrapped around his neck that was choking him. He coughed and coughed but when he looked down back to the running water and his hands, his hands were bleeding. Most of his hands skin was torn off, he looked at what he was holding and it was the blades. He hasn't been washing his hands the whole time.. He was getting cut.

He immediately sprinted out the bathroom, leaving the water and light on. You heard the opening of door bang againts the wall, you stood up from your bed and looked outside your room, by the time you went ouside your room, you saw your boyfriend sprint out of your house. "Hey! Wait! Where are you going!!" you yelled with a concerned tone, but when you yelled it, he was already gone. Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, your shoulders slumped, not understanding why he just left all of the sudden.

Dazai on the other hand was overjoyed. He even turned the sink and lights off for you to not waste water and electricity. Ah.. Only if you knew what he did.. He just saved you from your little toxic relationship, he really wanted to hear your voice praise him.

The day after that, you tried texting your boyfriend to only be met with blocked profiles and one messags, "we're done."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The haunting within your home escalates, multiple of your things was dissappearing or either misplaced somewhere.. There were nights where you'd be on your phone scrolling while comfortably laid down on your bed where you could hear whispers. It was either your name or threats— "Get out." - "[Your name], [Your name]"

It was a smooth deep voice that whispered subtly in your ear that gave you chills running down your spine, this honestly frightened you but you already paid full and moved all your stuff in so there was no way a little ghost or hallucination was gonna make you move out! Especially since this might've been the reasom why your son of a bitch boyfriend broke up with you, so.. why not keep the house?

The more you didn't budge through dazais antics, the more you pique dazais interest and attraction. You laid there on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you felt the vacant part of your bed get cold. You sigh— "does it always get cold whenever im not around?.." you mutter, still quite sad from the newly break up text before going back on your phone, suddenly one of your coats that was hung on the coat hanger on the side of room fell, you sigh in Annoyance and stood up, putting it back before you were met with a hand caressing your waist, "eek!" you squeeled before turning around to be met with.. Nothing.

You immediately ran back to your bed, hiding under the covers and forcing yourself to sleep, you stayed under the blankets, eye open and thinking about the situation. You're very sure now that it wasn't hallucinations and there really was something in your home, but the hand.. It felt human. It was cold but soft and gentle, not like the hands of your ex boyfriend.. You thought about more of the relationship between you and your boyfriend and realize that he never actually exchanged touches with you.. You were the one always handing it out but he never gave it back, this made your stomach hurl and you slowly slipped the blanket off of your upper body for air.. You stared at the canopy beds ceiling and tears left your eyes, "that bastard.." you mutter as you cried, you suddenly covered your face with your hands and groaned, turning to your side and cried in anger and sorrows.

The same gentle hands were on your waist, the hands that caressed you with deep devotion that you've never experienced before.. This is what you craved for.. You turn around and see nothing, you look around and you sit up, the room was dimly lit by the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the old furniture. You wipe your tears before hearing a deep suave voice— "Don't cry now, bella.. Don't let tears stain your pretty face."

You feel your breath bunch up in your throat, "who are you?.." you mutter, trying to hide your fear.

"mm.. Nobody." dazai replies back, his voice was everywhere.. You couldn't tell where it was coming from.. If it was from left, right, front or from behind, the non visible hand on your waist slowly went down, giving a small squeeze to your hips before you woke up.

The sun was raised high as you looked at your window, you sit up and rub your eyes.. Was it all just a dream? Why did it felt so real? And why did you crave more of those little touches?..

The little touches that dazai gave you was subtle but full of devotion, he didn't even know that he would become so intrigued by you this quickly that he wanted to watch your every single move. He looked at you staring at nothing, perhaps you were in deep thought in his eyes..

He loved the way your lips would turn into a smile, he loved how your brows would furrow, he loved the way you breathed, the way you talked, the way you move, it was all fascinating to him.. He has been alone and lonely in the Victorian Mansion without any suitors..and you were visibly his type.

You started off you day with breakfast then taking a shower, you take off your clothes and looked at the mirror before hanging your towel, just when you were gonna turn around, you see a figure with brunette hair with their elbow on the sink edge and resting their face against their palm in a flash, you look back but nothing was there. You shrugged it off and continue to take a shower.

After showering and getting ready, you researched about the mansion and learned that there was an earl who used to own it but unfortunately died due to a murder, his name was dazai osamu, he was known to be popular amongst the ladies back in the 1860's before he died in 1872. You checked the pictures of him and it was exactly like the portrait by the stairs..

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Every single night became intimate, you always saw him in your dreams and you always felt like you were getting watched.. Which turned invasive, dazai just wanted every part of you.

Night after night, he always gave you touch without showing hisself, but you already knew what he looked like through the painting.. But what made you feel guilty was that you couldn't touch him back, though his touches were random at night, it still gave you chills.

You lay calmly on your bed, you stare at the canopy beds ceiling as the nonvisible hand moves the hair out of your face, this was weird.. And you knew you needed to end it some way somehow.

Dazais feelings of making you stray away or die were now completely gone, he just wanted you by his side. He wanted you to be his.

You move to your side and look up, only to be met with a young man with brunette hair, brown eyes and a gentle smile. Your eyes widens and you look at him, was this really him?.. He grins and he caresses your cheek, "Do you enjoy my company, bella?" he asked in a soft suave tone, your eyes quickly relaxes as you slightly blush— "i guess so."

RING! RING! RING! Aw.. It was your stupid alarm, you open your eyes and look to the side to be met with nothing.. This was the first time you genuinely saw his face up close in real life.. You sigh and get ready for your day to go back to work.

You get ready and go down the stairs, trying to find your keys.

Dazai on the other hand, was holding your keys, he didn't want you Going anywhere. You looked and looked and looked.. But to no avail, nothing. Your workplace was pretty far and since you were near the woods, little to no cabs were around so you decided to call in sick. You began undressing, removing your work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable...

Dazais plans were to stop you from leaving the house in every single possible way. Night falls dark and the moon had risen up, leaving a pale glow outside, you were currently trying to think of what houses would be possible to stay in to finally escape the ghost who played games with you but as you were thinking on your bed, you went on your laptop and you scrolled on homes that were available, while you were scrolling, the laptop immediately closed as a hand wrapped around your waist, feeling a cold aura behind you. "what were you looking at bella?" he rests his chin on your shoulder, you sat there frozen before turning to him and being met with his pretty face.. His pale skin and brunette hair was a criminal combination, his face was so close to yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.

"..." you couldn't muster up a sentence.. "You aren't thinking about leaving me.. Are you [Your name]?.." he looked at you with pretty eyes.

"i.. Was just looking at houses." you replied back with a half life half truth statement. Dazai clinged onto you, it felt oddly comforting.. "You know im just here to protect you, Right? I'll treat you waaay better than that little ex of yours, my dear." he whispered in your ear in a possesive tone, blush crept up to your cheeks as he held you tightly, you looked at him and his gaze fell onto your lips, he examined your pretty face, though he was dead, he felt oddly giddy because he gets to hold you while your pretty face was close to his.

"You'll stay with me, got it? You're mine and no one else's."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Dazais desire to be with you turned insanely strong, so strong that be believed in something obsessive, every day he'd find ways to try and painlessly take your life without even realizing it, you already knew. You walked around the halls in your home knowing that at any second, the ghost who haunted you could come and just swoop you, you were confused why he wanted to kill you? You thought he loved you.. So why did he want to kill you?

You decided to confront him about it. As soon as it hit nightfall, you laid down on your bed and waited for his presence to immerge since his energy was stronger during night, as you feel his soft cold hands touch you waist, you grab his hand and turn to him, "What the hell have you been trying to do..!?" you ask in an angered confused tone.

He looks at you with slightly wide eyes before reverting back to normal, "oh whatever do you mean bella?" he tried to play it off.

"Why have you been trying to kill me!?"

"... I love you okay? I'm doing all of this for you." he said sternly, holding your hand softly and kissing peppering it with kisses.

Eventually the two of you broke out into a fight, though he tried to explain hisself, he really didn't wanna fight you. He just wanted you to understand that all he has done was for you. And he wanted for you to understand.

He gripping onto your waist, burying his face on the nape of your neck, his expression soft but disappointed..

"you really dont understand, don't you? I love you. And i'll do anything just to have you as mine."

His tone was low but it gave a hint of obsession.

"Please. Just dont go.. I- i can't keep being alone in this place. You're all i have." he muttered, his voice slightly whiny but full of sorrows as he held you tighter.

You felt awful, he loved you like no other and treated you better than anyone of your exes, though he was dead, he would love to kiss your lips again and again.

He held onto you tightly as you kept quiet, sighing before replying back— "If you keep this up, I'll move out. I'm serious."

Dazais eyes widens and the words that left your lips broke him since his body was buried under his house, his soul couldn't leave the mansion whatsoever, "Please! I can't lose you. Not now, not ever! Please! Give me a chance!" he gripped onto your clothing, "i love you more than my own existence, you're the only thing keeping me feel alive again and sane in this place, this place feels like an asylum! Don't.. Go." his voice cracked as he pleaded for you, tears was already beaded on his tear ducts, he didn't want you to go, he felt lost like some puppy, he just wanted you to stay with him, eternally.

He was so obsessed that he wanted to bind your soul with his so you could be his, together and forever in the afterlife.

A/N: originally, i was planning to make dazai kill reader but today i wanted to leave a cliffhanger. Thank you for reading and i really enjoyed this request!! :D I'll try to get into more yandere themes so i could do better in the future, thanks again anon for this lovely request of yours （＾ω＾）

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[reverieblondie]

You know that data-mined line of Raphael declaring that he is at Mephistopheles' mercy?

Now imagine Raphael saying that he is at your mercy. Imagine him saying it and meaning it.

(Whether this involves a battle or a bedroom... I'll leave that up to you 😉)

So I never knew about this quote till you sent this ask and I finally looked it up, and let me say, It is great! I haven't found a Raphael line that I have not completely loved!

Raphael x Fem!reader

Word count- 1,066

You’re both tired and worn, injuries littering your bodies, but despite all the odds, you have come out on top. Splattered in blood, you stand tall as your body screams for you to fall, to finally rest, but you can’t, not now, not when you finally got him down. The game of cat and mouse is over; the cat had miscalculated, and the mouse bit back, taking the predator by surprise. Raphael finally sits up, managing to get on his knees, but before he can fully get back to his feet, he feels the heavy weight of a blade on his shoulder, the sharp edge threatening to dig into his neck. Raphael lifts his glowing, battered eyes to you. You, the one he once saw as weak and malleable, are now about to remove his head. Eyes stern, body bruised and bloodied but still up, still fighting, you look like the definition of powerful…the definition of beauty…

Raphael slightly clears his throat, and you press the sword closer, making him wince from the sting of his skin breaking, the small cut starting to bleed running down beneath his ripped collar. Considering all you have been through, you’re not taking any chances, and it’s completely warranted. Raphael’s eyes meet yours, shining bright as hell’s fire, and it appears as if you glow in an ethereal light. A slight smile curls to the corner of his lips; you truly have impressed him. A part of him wants to call out for his father to save him, but that would be a much crueler fate to be sure; if he dies, let it be with her; at least she is justified for it. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, readying himself, then gives his final statement, “Tav, I am at your mercy.” 

You ponder for a long moment, ready to behead him and be done with it all, but as you look down at Raphael, head hung low, eyes closed in acceptance, you decide that it is your turn to strike up a deal to the lost and downhearted… “Raphael, you are correct; you are at my mercy, and I am ready to offer you a deal you would be a fool to refuse…” Raphael raises his head, eyes locking with yours in surprise, then smirks. Always so full of surprises…This should be good. 

You never would have anticipated this when he took the deal all those months ago. All those days spent arguing, playing his games, having him join you to be your aid…You never thought it would turn into this…

“Mouse..” his hot breath cascades onto your clothed sex as you lay down against the furs on the bed. Raphael presses his nose against your cunt, taking a deep whiff of your arousal, then licking slightly to the damp spot seeping through your panties. His hands are hot, the devil side of him desperate to burst into flames and claw into your hips, painting you with the beautiful color of your blood, but he holds himself back. Raphael has no desire to hurt you..only to taste you…

He slips your underwear off with experienced grace, his shining eyes never leaving your face as he watches it contort, and your hips mindlessly buckle from his teasing. Though the teasing is short-lived, he can’t help himself any longer. With a quick flicking of his tongue, he plays with your swollen little clit. He makes sure you’re dripping before his tongue plunges into your tight entrance, making you moan, and Raphael groans. Sure, you’re the one on the receiving end. Still, he’s the one in complete bliss, getting drunk off of everything about you, from your soft moans and your decadent scent, and with his tongue buried within you, he confirms what he has always thought you taste delicious.  

Raphael’s tongue plunges deeper into you, licking and twisting against your walls as you squirm and arch yourself up. In an act of blind want, you grasp his dark locks and grind yourself on him. His nose brushing your clit, his hands squeezing your ass, his groans and hums vibrating from his tongue and into your slick walls. The feeling is maddening and addictive. Raphael doesn’t even mind your fucking yourself on his face while he stays worshipping on his knees; to him, this moment is perfection. 

“Raph-Rapheal~ ah-” Your cooing voice has him throbbing against his pants as he gets you closer to your orgasm with his sinful tongue. Raphael lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, feeling you tremble against him as he moves to place chaste kisses on your clit. Fucking his eager hips into the bed to release his aching. Raphael’s already thinking of the poetry he will write about this moment while all your thoughts have evaporated into a hazy cloud. You can only focus on the tightening in your lower stomach, which burns your core. Then Raphael’s cruel nature starts to reveal itself as he shoves two thick fingers into your slick, and his mouth sucks hard on your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming; your clit sucked and rolled against his velvet tongue while his two fingers curled into your spongy walls. The tightening in your stomach snaps harshly, and your ecstasy floods through your body, making you scream his name. your body shakes, and you squirt all over his face.  

Drunk on your sweet taste, he licks up your mess before he gives a harsh nip to you’re overstimulated clit making you moan and pull his roots harder. Rapheals lips curl into a wicked smirk, his brown eyes enchanted by you but constantly toying. Returning the smile, you push his face away, your eyes filled with complete lust for more. “That was very naughty, Raphael; what am I going to do with you..” his lips and chin are ruined with your cyprine; he hums for a moment, then he coos those words he told you all those months ago. 

“Well, Tav, I am at your mercy.” 

With that, you let him bury his face into you again, his lapping more desperate and hot, his hands holding onto your hips in a bruising grip as you grind your cunt against his handsome face, all while you chant his name and ride him to your next orgasm. A part of you knowing that you are truly the one at his mercy now…

[nickfurysrighteye]

Practise?

chase davenport x reader

summary: the school's gonna do a play and it's gonna be Romeo and Juliet. Chase was supposed to help with the behind the scenes but instead he gets to play Romeo, and you, Juliet, offer him some help with his lines..

cw: sfw, kissing, that's it i think

a/n: this is my first time writing for this fandom and also my first time making my writing public so please be kind :') ...i haven't written any type of fanfic in a veeeery long time. this is just for fun!!!

"Seriously?! I can't believe it!"

Janelle yells storming into the gym. Everybody stops what they're doing to look at her puzzled. This year Mission Creek High decided to organize a play and upon a great request it was decided to stage 'Romeo and Juliet'. Janelle volunteered to direct the entire planning of it.

"Our Romeo decided it was a great time to break his arm, therefore we don't have a Romeo anymore!" she says walking towards Leo, who's busy painting the fake wooden balcony. Leo decided to take part in the production only to have an excuse to be with Janelle, and doing so he dragged Chase along, just to have some company.

A few people gather around to see what was going on, you take your eyes off the script you were revising to look at your classmates on the opposite site of the room.

"So? What's the big deal?" says Leo "The understudy can take his place."

"The big deal is we don't have an understudy! We barely have enough people working on this play, do you really think we have extras?" Janelle is furious.

"Why don't we pick somebody from the crew?" you barge into the conversation, feeling the eyes of everyone onto you "I mean, it's not like we have time to redo auditions.."

Everybody is silent, eyes going left and right scanning the room for someone brave enough to take on one of the leading roles. You look behind Leo's shoulder "I bet Chase could do it."

Chase was surprised and slightly confused by your statement "Me? But I'm not an actor." he says, struggling to speak loud enough to be heard.

"Neither am I, and neither is everyone else..this is a high school play not Broadway, no of us are actors." you shrug while looking over to the brown haired boy.

Janelle looks over to him "Chase, do you think you could do it? You'd be a life saver, honestly." you could hear the tension in her voice from all the stress the planning brought her.

"I-i mean, sure I could give it a try" Chase tried so hard to sound confident in his choice but you could hear the slight tremor in his tone.

"Perfect, problem solved!" Janelle said.

Once everyone got back to work you get closer to Chase, "If you want we can practise the lines together, I could also give you some tips."

"Sure, I'd love that." Chase says with a sweet, soft smile. "Cool, you can stop by at my house today if that's ok." you smile back

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you later."

-

After school, the two brothers head to the lab and Chase is panicking, regretting the choice he made earlier that day. "Why would I agree to do something like this?! Why didn't you stop me Leo?! This is going to be a disaster! The play's gonna suck!" he spits out the words so quickly he can barely keep up with his thoughts.

"Chase chill out! You'll be fine, like Y/n said no one here's an actor, you're all gonna suck" Leo's already tired of his complaining.

Chase's worry isn't only his acting, but the fact he's gonna be the lead in a romantic play with you as his love interest. He's also terrified by the idea of having to kiss you multiple times on stage, in front of a ton of people. This is stressing him out way more than anticipated.

He already knew who you were long before taking part in this project. He saw you walk around the halls, he saw you sitting a couple of desks in front of him in some classes you have together. He always thought about you as the pretty girl he would only talk to in his imagination. Nobody could have predicted the two of you acting as lovers in a school play. Certainly not Chase.

-

With his heart beating out of his chest, Chase knocks on your front door. You open the door and invite him in. "We can go upstairs in my room" you say, guiding him upstairs.

You go through the script together, focusing on the more difficult parts to memorize. You're suprised Chase could memorize all these lines so quickly, and he's getting better at getting into character.

He says every line with the right feeling, you two work in harmony, it's like you're no longer acting as the characters but are living the story as yourselves.

"You're quite talented you know that Chase?" you smile

"Thanks, I'm actually a bit nervous if I'm being honest." he chuckes while lowering his eyes, looking at his fingers fidgeting with the corner of the script's page.

"How come? You're doing great." you tilt you're head slightly. You sit on your bed, taking a small break.

He shrugs, sitting down beside you "I don't know, I just am" he mumbles.

You stare at him with a soft gaze, you study his expression, you're lightly mesmerized by the way the light beam from the setting sun is hitting his face, shining through your window. His eyes now being a warmer hazel tone.

He can hear the beat of his heart in his ears "Actually, I'm scared 'cause --" he stops "I'm worried about our kiss."

"Our kiss?"

"Yeah, it scares me a little having to kiss in front of an audience."

"It's gonna be a quick kiss don't worry about it."

"I know, it's just that --" he looks down again "I've never done it before."

"You've never kissed anyone?" you say, the slight surprise in your voice makes him feel even worse now.

"It's fine Chase, I get it. There's no need to be ashamed of it." you try to reassure him. "Wanna practise?"

"The kiss?" he looks at you.

"Yeah, I mean, we probably should anyway since it's part of the play." you say, standing up and placing yourself in front of him like you would be on stage.

"Yeah, ok, that's..a good idea" he stands up as well. Chase tries to hide his uncertainty.

"You sure about this?" you ask, you don't want to pressure him.

"A hundred percent" he's anxious, he's rubbing subtly his hands on his jeans because they're starting to sweat, his knees get weaker and he hopes they'll be strong enough to support him.

"Ok now, just follow my lead." you take his hand, leaning nearer. Your other hand cupping his cheek, your lips are now inches apart. Your touch feels warm on his skin, making him breathe faster.

"Close your eyes." as he does so, your place your lips onto his gently, and start to slowly and softly kiss him.

A warm feeling of joy starts to bubble up in his chest as he copies your movements and picks up the pace. The kiss gets more intense, more impatient as he tastes your lips. You get closer and your hand that was on his cheek is now on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers with his hair. His hands start to move, although he's still unsure of what to do.

You stop for a brief moment. "It's ok if you wanna touch me, y'know." Chase laughs a little, he then places his hands on your sides, sliding them down to your waste. He grabs a little harder and pull you into another kiss, this time greedier, messier.

He didn't think it would feel this good kissing you, his heart is racing so fast you could probably hear it. Your lips are exploring eachother, you're both enjoying this much more than you should be. After a few moments Chase decides to wet your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, you part your lips a bit and he slips part of his tongue in. The feeling of your tongues tasting eachother sends shivers down your spine, you feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"You taste amazing" he blurs out the moment he stops to catch his breath, then he pulls you again into another kiss. His words make you melt.

Chase has lost track of time. Actually he has lost track of anything, he can only feel you. Your lips, your tongue, your taste, the sweet smell of your perfume and the warmth of your body standing so close to his. A few moments pass and you pull away to catch your breath, your faces still close to eachother.

"Was i good?" his question makes you chuckle.

"Yeah, you were. You know the kiss isn't supposed to last this long though, right?"

"Sorry i got a bit carried away." Chase laughs a little. You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"I don't think you're gonna have problems on stage, Chase"

"Although we should probably get back to revising the lines"

"We should, but after we're done we should go back to the kissing part, just to be sure"

[bunny-1111]

Just thinking about James Potter x Slytherin Reader.

trying to outwit each other,

trying to desperately hate each other.

trying to restrain their eyes from finding each other in every room.

outdoing each other at parties, alcohol fueling them both, to attempt to distract themselves from the fact that they both fought a feeling in their chest for each other.

they spent an alarming amount of time pissing each other off, they would never accept that they spent so much time with each other, they dismissed it as standing up for the house spirit.

James, not being able to face her, across the great hall worried his face might reveal he had dreamed of her face just 2 two hours prior

Her avoiding Regulus' observations, he had caught on before her and James were willing to admit anything.

Regulus Black convinces her that James and all of those wicked Gryifindors just want a rise out of her; to let it go, he would humiliate her, just as Gryffindors do.

Sirius Black convinces James that she and her friend snakes only want to get him close and eventually stab him in the back. To let go of her, she would eat him alive, just as Slytherins do.

All glances, little comments, and attempts of communication halted, with both of them finally facing the facts. They were in love, although their foundation wasn't built of good, peaceful nature; it was built of passion, hunger, and tension, which made them both crave relief all the more. They knew they could only get it from the other, both too proud to admit.

Finally, when Remus and Sirus planned the biggest prank of the year, James usually jumped with joy at the thought. But with you and him not talking, he was in a foul mood, overheard the plans, and declined participation.

Watching the boys set up, James, arms crossed, was putting everything together in his head, eyes flickering from the giggling boys in front of him, then to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. "Remind me what it is exactly you're doing." James questioned

"well Jamsie, we're turning these tiny little crickets" explain Sirus, holding up a small cricket to James's face

"And we've enchanted them, to turn into lions, they'll chase good old snape through the corridor" laughed wormtail

"No kidding?" said James, eyes wide

"But... you're not doing it right now, right?" he continued

"We certainly are" laughed Remus

"No, but, she's with snape right now I can see them through the window" said James pointing to his 'enemy' worry now painting his face

"yeah that's the point" scoffed Sirus

"and you're going to help us, get the rope," said peter, shoving the heavy rope into James hands, he unwillingly went along

"How about you distract her! She won't suspect a thing, neither will Snape" gleemed Sirus, "I hope Regulus is with them too," Padfoot laughed

James stayed silent.

Eventually walking towards her, "hey" he said quietly

"Hi" she replied, eyes doe at him, almost looking nervous?

"I haven't seen you lately," he said, gently

She didn't know how to respond, usually ripping into each other spitefully by this point of conversation.

Snape and Regulas walking away from her, when they passed the rest of the marauders, tucked away in the gap of the corridor. Hearing Peter mutter that James was taking too long, they turned around and walked right back to you,

"He's distracting you" Snape spat

"The rest of them are waiting with crickets" Reg followed

"Oh" she almost whispered

"No I-" James begins

Storming off, she had no time to listen to his excuse; maybe he had grown up, she thought. Wrong.

The rest of his friends creeping out, Sirus throwing questioning hands in the air "I couldn't do it" James sighed "I just couldn't do it"

Ditching his friends, chasing after her, catching her, kissing her, surprising her, surprising himself.

[simplyafountainpen]

Red Looks Good On Us

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Demon!M!Reader x Grell Sutcliff

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: (Y/n) was particularly rude today, and as much as Grell loved it, it seems like her adorable little girl would need some punishment for that naughty mouth of his~

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Sub!Top!Reader, Power Bottom!Grell, Demon!Reader, feminization (of reader), punishment, bondage, impact play, Mistress title, praise, Reader wears makeup, Grell's privates referred to as cock and pussy, (y/n) is the "Mourning Dove Demon"

"But belooovvveeddd!!-"

You sighed as you pushed your Master, Alois Trancy, behind you. Today was supposed to be a simple outing with the boy, a little walk through the city and perhaps even through a park to get him out of that stuffy office of his. He had been swamped with work recently, and even if he didn't want to, it had to be done.

For weeks you watched as his patience grow smaller until he'd snap at the slightest inconvenience. It grew annoying, and finally out of control when he decided it would be a great idea to throw an entire piping hot tea set at you and Claude. You quickly ushered him out of the house as the other demon cleaned the mess - also to allow him to calm down and not rip the child to shreds. He still needs the child's soul, after all.

It had been peaceful for a time, until you and the boy ran into a certain red head. You stuffed the boy behind you, ignoring his small noise of questioning, and stared into those chartreuse phosphorescent eyes of hers.

"Grell. I will not be abandoning my duties for you. What ever are you even doing here?" You grumbled. The both of you stared at each other, Grell biting her lips while you could feel the veins budging in your forehead. You had no time for this.

"Well, beloved, I saw you from across the street and I just simply had to say hello to the most scrumptious looking man in my life, right?~" Again, you grumbled.

"Now isn't the time you damned succubus, off with you." You waved her off with a hand, turning back to a less than pleased Alois only to feel her hands on your shoulders, causing you to growl.

"Now now dearest, is that anyway to treat the woman you loovvee?~" You shrugged her hands off, again turning to Alois with a mumble, asking him to go the opposite way as a fly seemed to be buzzing in your ear.

"Oh come now darling, don't walk away!! Let me join you at least!! I'm so very bored and haven't a thing to do for hours!!~" You turned to her.

"What of the paperwork I know for a fact you're putting off right now?" A smirk now laid on your face, and the woman sputtered. Alois chuckled at her face in your grip. Both immediately - but silently - noted that you seemed to puff up in accomplishment.

A fact about you was that you were a being of irony. A demon, yet you were based off a dove. A mourning dove, to be precise. Grell huffed and folded her arms. She leaned closer to your face, noses almost touching.

"Mmm... you're no fun around this brat." Grell mused. Her painted lips were creased into a pout. She stood up strait, looking you in the eye.

"Well then perhaps you should be off then? I certainly wouldn't bat an eye." You leaned even closer, foreheads touching. Both of you continued in silence, until Alois coughed into his elbow. You grunted, backing up quickly and turning back to the boy in question. You sent one more cynical smile her way, accompanied by a wave, and went off with your Master.

Grell stood there for a moment more. She knew you wouldn't truly belittle her or do anything truly physically damaging considering your... relationship, but she still couldn't help but shiver at how dismissive you were. And though she understood why you wouldn't stop to chat - you being under a contract, she couldn't help but feel slightly peeved at how quickly you brushed her off! No long winded insults, no pushing her, no attention, why, you could make a girl feel neglected like this!

She smiled with a dark chuckle. Oh, you'd be paying when you got home that night, she'd make sure of it.~

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

You entered the house quietly, a greeting and apology on your lips for how you treated Grell, only to be met by silence and no lights. Immediately you began lighting candles and flicking on lamps to fill the room with light. In doing this, you noted that the lights in the bedroom were on and abandoned your current mission, walking over to the closed door with light pouring from beneath it.

"Grell? Honey? Are you in there?" You knocked gently on the door, pressing an ear to the wood before gently opening it.

"I want to apologize for my... statements... today." Instead of a sleeping or a - hells forbid - working Grell, you found your girlfriend in nothing but her underwear and corset, a satin robe hanging scantily off her shoulders. She looked back at you with a smile, glasses glinting in the light of the many candles lit in the room, speaking of:

The room itself was dimly lit with said candles on holders and on the floor, rose petals delicately strewed throughout the room. On the vanity were a few open makeup boxes, all the makeup being red of course. The bedsheets had been changed to Grell's favorite scarlet ones, and carmine satin ribbons dangled from the headboard and footboard.

The most damning thing, however, was the set of blood red lacey thigh-highs, panties, and bra neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

You didn't notice her stand, but rather heard the door being closed behind you, Grell's fingers making their way around your shoulders, feeling her breath against her neck.

"Oh, so you wish to apologize, is that it?" You felt her lips against your neck, your sensitive skin picking up on the kiss mark left behind. Her hands trailed downward, crossing your chest and fliting over your sensitive nipples, making you suck in a quick breath. Not being able to find your voice, you nodded.

"Well, I think I know of one way you can make it up to me.~" She was by your ear now, lips lightly pressing against it for a moment. You shivered, eyes closing. She giggled.

"You you want to make it up to me, pretty girl?~" You clenched your teeth and turned away, her hands wrapping around your waist and meeting right above your hardened cock. She looked at you for a moment and sighed. Hearing this, you whipped your head around and nodded rapidly, to which she simply walked around you, now facing you with her hands on your ass. One left its perch and took your chin, forcing you to look at her again.

"I want a verbal answer, darling. You're free to say no, you know." Your eyes widened, then you took one of your own hands and placed behind hers, moving both to your cheek and nuzzling into them.

"I do..." Grell immediately smiled, grabbing your face and slamming her lips on yours. She overpowered you easily, tongue invading your mouth with you putting up no resistance. She turned you around and pushed you back onto the bed, forcing you to sit and then sitting in your lap. One of her hands rested on your shoulder, the other making its home around your neck. You whimpered into the kiss and she smiled, breaking it off.

You looked up through tear-laced lashes and she pecked you on the head, getting down on her knees. She began to remove your clothes, starting with your shoes and socks, kissing and nipping up you leg until she made it to your waist. Her fingers made quick work of your belt and the buttons on your pants, you lifting yourself up slightly to make it easier to slip them down your legs. Before you could sit back down, she slipped her finger into the waistline of your drawers, tutting. Wordlessly, she unbuttoned them and drew them down with your pants. You gasped as the cold air of the room hit your now exposed cock, whining. Grell planted a quick kiss to your inner-thigh and continued.

Your waistcoat was removed slowly, the woman above you massaging you shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Languidly, she removed the rest of your layers, ghosting her painted nails over skin. Tears layered themselves in your eyes and she kissed them away, cooing at your nakedness. Then, she grabbed the laced thigh-highs and unfolded them, taking one and gently unrolling it, she grabbed one of your legs and slowly pushed the fabric up, fixing and smoothing it out, then doing the same for the other. She grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to stand. Grell then grabbed the panties and lightly bit your neck.

"Lift one of those pretty legs for me dearest, would you?" She whispered into your ear. You nodded, lifting you left leg, and she quickly pushed them up, running her hand over your ass and the small of your back while she slipped you through one hole of the panties. You both then did the same on your right side, and she gave you a quick kiss as a reward. You were then sat back down as she ran her hands over your chest, twisting your hardened nipples, causing you to moan.

She continued to play with your chest, making sure your skin was sensitive to the slightest touch. Grell hummed at her work, grabbing the bra and lifting one of your arms, sliding it into place.

"You know," she said as she slipped the other in and clasped the back, "I got the smallest size for you, darling. And look at this! You can't even fill it out!~" The lace brushed against your skin, forcing a few pants and moans from you. Another kiss was pressed to your temple as Grell helped you up, walking you over to the vanity and sitting you down.

"We're not quite done yet my dear, just a couple more touches and you'll be perfect.~ Don't you want to be perfect for me, dearest?~" You nodded rapidly, but Grell clicked her tongue. More tears filled you waterline as you gasped, quickly correcting your mistake.

"Y-yes. I do want to be perfect for you, M-mistress." Grell stared at you as those whispered words left your lips. Taking a strand of hair between her fingers, she twirled it around.

"Mistress hmm? I quite like that..~" She smiled at you and sat back in your lap, turning around and hovering a hand over a small box filled with red lipsticks, all different shades. The reaper choose a slightly lighter shade compared to your current attire, softly applying it to your lips, humming a turn you didn't recognize. Then it was an eyeshadow, mascara, then a blush, the soft brush tickling over your skin.

"Oh look at you!~ Such a pretty girl!~ Why, I don't think I could even tell you were demon if I didn't know better. I might even dare to call you an angel.~" Her hand was under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. Your hands griped the arms of the chair beneath you, nearly splintering the wood. Your breathing became heavy as Grell leaned closer, lips caressing over yours.

"What do we say?~" She whispered, and you whispered in kind.

"Thank you Mistress."

With wild abandon, she smashed her lips onto yours, hands tangling in your hair and yours flew to her hips. Grells tongue forced its way down your throat, your eyes rolling back from the sensation. She broke the kiss, staring at your fucked out expression.

"Look at how sensitive you are.~ My good little girl." You whined, drool slipping from your lips as you felt her grind down onto your cock. Her hand began to stoke it through the lace panties, making you whine louder. The tip of your cock peaked from the top, pre bubbling from the tip and onto the lace trim.

"Already ruining your panties? Tut tut darling." Grell mused. She grabbed your upper arms and dragged you up, doing all but throwing you onto the bed. She gripped your hair in her hands, resting against the headboard. One of her painted nails ran over your lips, inserting her thumb into your mouth. Her other hand went down to her own panties, rubbing herself through the fabric at the sight of your disheveled form. Her manicured hand pulled her painties down till the rested beneath her balls, revealing her hardened cock, budging and red.

"Open wide, dear.~" Her thumb slipped from your lips, and her cock was rammed down your throat, effectively gagging you.

"MHMP?!?" "Hehe, look at how well your taking me, pretty.~" Grell's hand traced your throat, squeezing it lightly to feel her length poking out.

"Go on then," she pat your head, tangling her hands in your hair, "Show Mistress what this darling throat of yours can do.~"

You groaned, sucking her down and hollowing your cheeks, dragging your tongue up and down the side of her sex. Your lipstick stained the base as you bobbed up and down, breathing through your nose. Grell's hands landed on the sides of your face as you sucked, nails digging and nearly piercing your skin. Without warning she took control, slamming you up and down her cock, the tip touching the back of your throat and your drool slicking up her entire shaft, making it shine.

Grell continued, your lipstick smearing across her girth as the mascara she had applied ran down your face. She then shoved you all the way down, blocking your airflow. To add to it, she gripped one hand around your neck, making the dark spots in your vision grow faster. Your shaky hands gripped her thighs, eyes rolling all the way back as your throat constricted more, spit running down your chin. She held you for a moment longer, your shaking about to cease, moaning at how tight your throat had gotten. Just a second before your fully passed out - which would be a feat - she pulled you off, your head falling onto the sheets. Your tongue lolled out and drool pooled below you, breathing heavy. Grell quickly began stroking, slick noises filling your ears, and thick white ropes covered your face, some getting into your panting mouth. You whined and Grell chuckled breathily, taking some cum onto her fingers and tasting it.

"You make everything sweeter dear. I suppose white is also a good look on you, isn't it, dove?~" You cooed at the nickname, shoving your head into her thigh, which now had your spit on it. You kissed and sucked at her skin, pupils blown out.

"Oh? Is my dove okay?" Her voice had tilt of merriment to it as she lifted you, switching your places so that now you were against the headboard and she was kneeling on the bed. You cooed again, muttering nothings under your breath as you allowed her to wrap you wrists in the silk attacked to the bed. She tied small yet firm knots, tugging to ensure you could still escape if need be. The reaper pat you on the head, giggling when you nuzzled into her touch with hair puffed up.

"Dove, it's time. Are you ready to finally make it up to me?" you gave a mumbled reply. Grell smirked.

She fully slipped of her panties to reveal a already slicked up cunt, glistening with lube, strawberry scented. She positioned herself above you, spitting on your cock and rubbing it in good, she lined up the head with her hole, before giving you a quick peck on the lips.

"Good girl.~"

She slammed herself onto you, both of you letting loud moans from the feeling. Her hands gripped your shoulders, nails finally tearing into your skin, you hissing at the dull pain. She bounced up and down, walls clamping down on you with such force that you began to cry, the tears that had been welling up spilling over your lash line.

"O-oh dove - NGH - so p-pretty!~ Even w-ith your makeup all - UGH - ruined!!~" Grell complemented, her hips meeting yours with squelching noises. You were no longer comprehensible, borderline animalistic with the bird-like chirps and coo's you released. Your hands tugged fruitlessly on their binds, desperately clawing out towards Grell. Her thighs slapped on yours, her chest pressed to you still sensitive one, compelling a high-pitched keen to escape your throat, which only caused Grell to coo at you more.

She stopped bouncing and grinded on your cock, walls sucking you in and squeezing, your noises never ending, flowing freely from you lips. Grell pressed her head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin softly and sucking hickies harshly onto your jugular, biting at it even.

You mewled and wailed at the attention, makeup nearly completely washed away by sweat, drool, and tears. Your head was rolled back as she continued to grind you into her, eyes showing nothing but the whites and jaw fully relaxed. After a moment of her slowing down, the stillness, she suddenly picked herself up and rammed you all the way back in, tip to hilt, in one quick movement. Grell's bouncing was much more aggressive than before, your arms reached back and grabbed onto the headboard. Your teeth grind together, and with heavy breaths you released the loudest whine yet.

"Are y-you about to cum, dove?" Grell groaned. Your nodded quickly, and she gave you a kiss on your cheek. "T-then cum for m-me dove!! CUM FOR M-ME!!-" You screamed, cumming hard into the warmth of her cunt. You gasped, sobbing, trying to catch your breath as Grell came in kind, cum painting your chest. She leaned against you, breathing hard and smiling. Her hands immediately went to your hair, tracing shapes in your scalp, giving you time to slow your breathing.

"Are you awake, dear?" You mumbled something, nothing of substance though. Grell smiled at you, before pulling you out of her. You huffed, watching your seed leak from her lightly gaping hole.

"Alright alright hold on..." She untied your wrists and rubbed them to sooth the dull ache she knew would be there - no matter how much you would deny it - and smiled at you.

"I'll go get snacks, water, towels, etc., etc. dear. You just wait right here." She booped you on your nose and you snorted. Grell then laid you down on the sheet and slipped on a pair of slippers, walking out of the room to the kitchen, though you couldn't help but watch the trails of white that flowed down her legs.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of the sheets, beginning to nod off. All you wanted was for her to return and hold you. Eventually she did, holding a tray filled with aforementioned snacks, water, towels and set it down, leaving for a moment to grab new sheets and popping by the vanity to grab a few makeup wipes. She gave you some water before she began to wipe the streaked makeup off your face.

"You did wonderfully dear, I can assure you you've apologized fully." You giggled and she smiled, leaning in so the bridges of your noses were touching.

"I love you, Mistress." Grell chuckled.

"And I love you, Dove."

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

"What are those dark spots on your neck, (Y/n)?" You turned to the sound of Alois's voice, sharply keeping your gaze right above the eyes lest you end up like Hannah.

"Whatever do you mean, your Highness?" You asked, and he pointed to a specific part of your jugular, and after you ran a hand over the bruise, your eyes widened.

"It's nothing, your Highness I promise, nothing that should concern you anyway..." Though that only made the blonde pout and start whining childishly.

"Well now I simply must know!! What is it??" You looked over to Claude who only shrugged with the tiniest of smirks on his face, that bastard.

You were going to kill him one day, if you didn't die of embarrassment first, anyway.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: This is a bit longer than the last one. If you could not tell at this point, I adore Black Butler. Thank you for reading.

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved

[yeyinde]

I need to be railed by price as the team either walks past or is right next door. So upset he's fictional lmao

honestly, same. 

this got away from me a bit, so sorry about that!

warnings: smut, implied near-death experiences, voyeurism, and (??) exhibitionism

For being stationed out in the middle of Siberia, snowed into some long-forgotten gulag on the fringes of the great, inescapable arctic nothingness, the air you breathe has never been hotter. 

Balmy heat pulses, throbbing in tandem with each harsh thud of your heart as it snaps like a rubber band against your chest. 

It leaks in from the old pellet stove that Gaz managed to get working—somewhat—but the stifling heat that simmers around you, clinging your sweat-slicked skin has less to do with fire, and everything to do with the way your captain fills your cunt until you ache. 

"Fuck," he rasps, low and grating, words muffled into the flesh of your neck, when he presses the flat of his teeth. "So wet for me, love. So fucking tight—" 

All you can do is dig your nails into his flexing biceps, legs locked around his waist, heels clinging together at the base of his spine, as he fucks you senseless in the middle of a storm. 

(And with your teammates beyond the thin wisp of a wall.)

You're supposed to be quiet. 

Those are the rules you accepted when he first parted the folds of your pretty cunt with his middle and index finger, and pressed his nose against your throbbing clit, eyes sparking with firebrands when he gazed up at you. 

Quiet—because everyone is gathered in the room beside yours, and no one knows that your captain presses the head of his cock against this soft, fleshy place behind your belly button until you see Nirvana painted behind your eyelids like he's trying to fuck you stupid. To batter all logic out of your soft, sensitive head until only he, and the way he fits inside of you, remain. 

(And sometimes, you think he is.)

Quiet. Quiet. And yet—

They can all hear you, surely. You're not subtle, and you're not silent, despite the growls in your ears to keep it down, now, love, don't want them all to hear you getting fucked by your captain, do you? Filling your tight pussy with my cock—

How can you be when he pulled you into the empty, rotting cell with a fire in his gaze, and his hands rough on your skin, and said I need to feel you, love. I need to be inside of you. Need to keep you warm.

You try to stay quiet. Try to stifle the moans that spill from your lips with each blunt, brutal thrust of his cock slamming against the plug of your womb. It feels as if he was trying to wrench it open, trying to fit inside the only space left that you haven't felt him, that you hadn't taken him in. And maybe he is. Maybe, this is him trying to split you apart at the seams until you unravel for him; unspooled and raw, and all his, and—

It edges into pain, into hurt and anguish, but the pleasure numbs you into a babbling mess of fuck, captain, it feels so good, please please please—

His fat cock splits you apart until you're a babbling mess drooling into the matted, grimy mattress below, chanting nothing but his name amid the hymnals of pleasure that slip out, unmuffled, and loud. 

Stupid. Stupid. 

These sparse walls are barely thick enough to stifle a sniffle let alone the way you stutter over his name—P–Pr–i–ahhh—P–Pri–ce—with each sharp thrust of his cock battering your bruised, gummy walls. 

He doesn't even try to keep you quiet. Seems, in fact, to fuck you harder, aiming for whichever spot he hit inside of you that made you howl the loudest. Like it's a game. Like he wants them to hear. 

And you get it. You get why he's so broken, so stripped, and bare, and fucking you when he knows everyone can hear you, can hear the slick way your cunt opens for his cock; the fleshy slaps of his heavy sack hitting your ass with each deep, hard thrust. The ragged pants broken by your barely stifled moans, or his sharp, smoking grunts. 

You get it. You do—

A near miss. A wayward shot. 

Soap says you should be resting, that you should be recuperating until you all have to move out, have to abandon this safe haven in the middle of the frigid, white wasteland where nothing but withering black trees grow in sparse thickets and the temperature outside drops low enough to freeze the grey matter in your brain within seconds. 

It's scary. Daunting. 

But nothing at all compared to the anguish in his voice when he saw you in shades of blue, in red. Lifeless, and cold. So, so cold. 

It had taken them pushing you as close to the firepit as possible to bring some life back into your cheeks, and this—

This is all he knows how to do to keep you warm, to keep you from turning the same garish shade of deathly white, grey, as the world outside of these mouldering walls while you're stuck in a place that leaches it from your marrow; rapacious for heat in your body.

He fucks you like he's already lost you. Like you're already blue and grey and—

"Never again," he spits, words an angry snarl in your ear. "Never again—"

So, you let him take. Let him take, and take, and take because he never does. Never for himself. 

You offer yourself up to him—however he needs it—and try to stay within the margins of the rules despite the fact that you can feel him bludgeoning into you, further and further until you can feel him in your sternum. Until you can taste him in your throat. Until your lungs are full of sweat and blood and hickory and smoke, and—

"Fuck—"

You choke on the thick press of fingers when he slips them into your mouth, barking out a sharp bite when he pushes his other hand under the swell of your ass to glue your hips together. Closer, closer, but not enough for him despite the stars that erupt behind your eyelids, the too full too much feeling of him grinding against your bruised, battered walls, carving out a place inside of you just for him. 

"Gotta keep you warm," he hisses, pressing his damp chest to yours until the scant air is squeezed from your collapsing lungs, and all you can taste, and see, and feel is the graze of his coarse hair over your sensitive flesh when he smothers you under his bulk. "Gotta warm you up—"

They can all hear you. All of them. 

And maybe, maybe it's the delirium. The fever. The injury. The ever-present threat of that creeping white death that ghosts along the gaps in the doors, searching for a way in to claim the one that got away, snatched from the brink of icy death.

It must be. It has to be. 

But you think you can hear them, too. Under the heaving, desperate gasps in your ear, the broken commands uttered for you to stay quiet, and be good, and stay with him, stay with him, always, always, always, and the slap of his skin branding yours, you can hear it. Low murmurs. Movement. 

Gaz sucks in a breath when Price mutters look'it y'takin' me so fuckin' good; needy little cunt won't let g'of me. 

Soap groans low when you whimper around the thick, nicotine-stained fingers, nearly gagging, choking when he presses them to the back of your throat. 

You hear Ghost shift, the scratch of his denim sliding against the cracked cement when he moves from his spot when you moan low, and broken, and beg for it in a series of please please please pleasepleaseplea—that stick together each time he slides in deep. 

The noises from the other room all react to each whimper, moan, mewl, gasp that Price pulls from the depths of your chest as his cock splits you apart until your cunt is full of nothing but him. Until your head is heavy with pleasure, with the explosive chemical slurry of sex and tobacco and almost dying, and him, him—

It's maddening. Impossible.

It has to be in your head. It has to be because the idea, the absurd idea of it all is enough to make you tremble, to make the molten knot in your belly coil, and coil, and—

Price drops his sweat-slicked forehead to your temple, lips brushing against your ear. 

"Puttin' on a nice li'show for them, love. Almost makes me think you want them to hear," he murmurs, words rasped out in a whisper. Just for you. Just for you. "I must not be enough to keep y'warm, then. Must need some extra body heat, mm?"

(You hear Soap grunt, the noise a tucked plea of Captain, and of something that sounds like a broken amalgamation of your name, and fuck, and please, and—

And all at once, the rules break. Shatter.)