#I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST BECAUSE I WAS SEEKING HIM OUT

[stellamarielu]

handsy

joel miller x female reader

summary: joel is hopelessly touch starved and you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself.

content: nsfw, 18+, age gap, cursing, mutual pining, mentions of male masturbation, hand job, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, good girl, breeding kink [if you squint]

author's note: hey guys, long story short i’m rewatching tlou and i needed to write some joel miller smut. i mean, aren't we all horny for that old man?

—

To put it quite plainly, Joel was touch starved. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt the hands of a woman on his body. Of course, given the current state of the world, he didn’t have much time to think about it.

But then he was all settled down in Jackson and his days were filled with mundane jobs, casual conversations, cozy living conditions, and you. 

You lived in the little house across the street from him and although your relationship began with awkward smiles and shy waves, Joel found himself getting closer to you over time. 

Now he was lingering on your front porch after you offered him coffee in the mornings and walking you into town when he had absolutely no business there, all to spend a little extra time with you.

From the beginning Joel somehow found himself not entirely annoyed by your persistence in breaking down his walls, and instead indulged in your constant questions and continuous attempts at bad jokes. Maybe it was because he felt bad ignoring your endless efforts to strike up friendly conversation; or perhaps he enjoyed your company because he was lonely, and you were an undeniably gorgeous young woman seeking out his attention. Even he was confused as to why someone like you would be putting so much energy into getting to know him. You were probably lonely too, Joel convinced himself that your friendly advances must’ve come from a place of hunger for basic human interaction. 

He would’ve had no issue fulfilling your need for friendship and community if it weren’t for how handsy you were. Of course, Joel knew your touch was never sexual. It always came from a place of innocence, just a welcoming nudge on the shoulder or a casual hand grazing his bicep. You were just someone who showed your appreciation through simple acts of physical touch, but to Joel those little gestures might as well have been you dropping to your knees in front of him. 

In fact, those thoughtless touches frequently made their way into Joel’s mind late at night when he couldn’t sleep.

He would think about the way your hands felt on his body; how soft and gentle they were. He would think about the way they brushed against his arms or his back, imagining what they’d feel like on his bare skin. He would fight against his own morality as his hand slipped into his pants touching himself at the thought of you. His fingers wrapping around his dick, holding back moans as he pictured it was your tender grip on him instead. 

He was disgusting

That’s what he told himself now, standing in your kitchen with your delicate little hand caressing his forearm as you laughed about something he said that most certainly wasn’t that funny.

You had convinced him to come over for dinner, and who was he to deny a warm meal? But now you were inches away from him at the kitchen sink after you had argued over who would do the dishes. Both of you working together to wash up, and Joel couldn’t keep himself from thinking about the warmth of your body and how soft it felt against his. 

It was all so domestic. You washing the plates then handing them over to him so he could dry and put them away. You were talking and laughing with full bellies and smiles on your faces. It was impossible not to soak in the simplicities of moments like this. And it was definitely impossible to ignore the way his skin was burning under your touch.

You knew you had a way of getting in other people’s personal space; touching others as you spoke to them. It was something you had always done, extending a hand in an effort to show you were listening or engaged. It was just a way of showing your appreciation and attention. Only, it was more than that when it came to Joel. Your relationship with him was strictly platonic, which was a real shame because you desperately wanted to touch him in more inappropriate ways.

You knew it was bad to think about him like that. He was a friend, yet you were constantly picturing what it would feel like to kiss him– to have your hands on him.

In an effort to fulfill these little fantasies, you were always finding ways to touch Joel. Obviously, it was only ever friendly, just softly grabbing his arm when you needed his attention or leaning your body into his when you walked side by side; such small moments of feeling the weight of his body beneath your hands, but it only ever made your secret obsession with him more intense. 

Like right now, your fingers were curling into his forearm as you laughed and you knew you needed to pull your hand away before you trailed it all the way up his arm tracing every inch of muscle as you went. Joel was just so big, and strong, and rough– it drove you fucking insane. You had never felt like this before, so pent up with sexual frustration for someone. It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted Joel to bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you. 

You were ready to loosen your grip on his arm and pull away when you felt something coarse underneath your fingertips.

A scar. One of the many that littered his body.

You had noticed them before, but you had never felt them. Joel was wearing a short-sleeve shirt tonight, something he rarely did. He was always clad in long sleeves or jackets, which made you realize this was the first time you had ever touched the bare skin of his arm. 

Your hand lingered on his forearm and your eyes were fixed on the scar underneath your fingers, and Joel just watched. He watched the way you stared as you felt his skin. And then you were moving your fingertips against him, tracing the mark there, and he had to keep himself from shuddering under your touch.

“There are so many.” Your voice was hushed as you studied him, looking at the scars painted all over his skin.

“Yeah well…” He was trailing off with each stroke of your finger against him, losing his train of thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

The simple apology was all you said, but when your eyes met his, he could see the sympathy swimming in your gaze. You understood. That was one thing Joel appreciated about you more than anything– you understood each other. You respected his boundaries, never pushing him on the things he wasn’t willing to talk about.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” 

His smile was back, so gentle and kind as he looked down at you.

“Can I have my arm back now?” His voice was playful, and you realized you were still holding onto his forearm.

“Oh god, sorry.”

You let go abruptly.

“Sorry, I’m not the best at keeping my hands to myself.” You were joking about your bad habit of touching others too much. 

“I’ve noticed.”

Joel was going back to work, drying a dish and putting it away in an overhead cabinet, avoiding your stare. 

“Oh shit Joel. Sorry does it bother you? I’ll be more mindful from now on.” 

Oh, you were humiliated. All this time Joel was annoyed by your friendly affection and you were just constantly touching him.

“No. no, doesn’t bother me. Just-“ He was speaking as he continued doing dishes, still avoiding eye contact with you.

“Just what?” You were prying, but you didn’t care. That’s how things often went with you and Joel– you asking too many questions and him putting up with it. 

“Nothin’. Just doesn’t bother me that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” 

He was sidestepping the conversation entirely now. But if it didn’t bother him, then what? 

“Joel c’mon what were you gonna say?” 

You were reaching for him again, this time grabbing his bicep. The feeling of his thick, muscular arm in your grasp nearly had your breath hitching in your throat. 

He stopped what he was doing, giving in to your touch and turning to face you completely. His eyes were peering down on you, his expression unreadable. 

“Just distracting. That’s what I was gonna say. Distracting.” He was just staring as he spoke, his voice stoic.

Distracting? Joel was distracted by your touch? 

“But not… in a bad way?” You had to clarify before your mind started going down a rabbit trail.

“No. Not in a bad way.” 

You felt a fluttering sensation fill your chest at his confession.

Was Joel saying he liked when you touched him? That he liked it so much it made him lose focus? There was sudden surge of confidence bursting through you as you ran your hand further up his arm. You found the hem of his sleeve, toying with it between your fingertips.

“How do I distract you?”

Doing your best to make your voice sound innocent you stared at the material of his shirt in your hands, too nervous to actually look him in the eyes. 

“Just don’t know how you’re always so kind and sweet. Your hands are so gentle.” He was speaking quietly.

You allowed your eyes to find his after he complimented you, but you wished you hadn’t.

His gaze was fixed on you, searching your face in a desperate attempt to read the situation. You were inches away from each other, your bodies nearly pressed against one another with your hand still on his arm. 

“Do you think about me in a way friends shouldn’t think about each other?”

The question was trickling from your lips and into the silent room. You were testing the waters, dipping a toe in the potential pool of shared desire. 

“Because I do. I think about you all of the time.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at Joel. 

“What it’d be like to kiss you, to feel your hands all over my body.”

You let your touch travel up to his shoulder and over to explore the broad expanse of his clothed chest underneath your fingertips. 

“We shouldn’t.” His words were hesitant but his body didn’t move in the slightest.  

“Why not?”

Joel could think of a million reasons why not. Starting with you being half his age and ending with the fact that sex could ruin the perfectly good relationship that had taken months to form between you.

But as he looked down at you, your lips all pouted and your eyes full of hope, he threw all caution to the wind.

Fuck it.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your face, bringing his head down and crashing his lips into yours.

His kiss was hungry and rushed but still somehow tender. Your mind was reeling at the taste of his mouth against yours. Your hands found solace at the nape of his neck, arms slinging up to rest on his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

Your kitchen suddenly felt so hot as the sweltering tension between you and Joel had finally reached it’s peak. 

“Fuck sweetheart if you only knew half the things I thought about you.” His voice was breathless as he broke your kiss.

Joel’s mouth trailed down your jaw placing impatient kisses on your skin. 

“Tell me.” You were practically begging as you moaned at the feeling of his warm lips on your neck.

“Think about those sweet little hands of yours on me.” 

He was nipping and sucking behind your ear. You weren’t sure if it was the way his mouth was caressing your skin or the words he was speaking between kisses, but it had a whine slipping from your lips. 

“Where Joel?” The words were a whimper coming deep within your throat as he continued his assault on your neck. 

“Jesus Christ sweetheart you’re gonna kill me.” He was muttering into the curve of your shoulder and the hum of his words against you had you losing your mind. 

“Do you think about them here?” Gaining just an ounce of composure, your voice was calm and collected as you slid your hands down his torso. 

You were careful to feel every little detail of his body as you let your touch wander lower. The tense muscles of his abdomen were hard to ignore as your hands found the button of his jeans. 

“All the time sweetheart.” He was admitting to his dirty thoughts. Bringing his hands to thread through your hair and pulling your gaze to meet his so you could see the seriousness in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Think about how soft they’d feel wrapped around me.”

Oh. It was prevalent now more than ever that Joel had entered an entirely new headspace. The way he was talking to you, the way he was looking at you; It was all fueled by complete and utter sexual desire, and you couldn’t get enough. You wanted to hear more filthy words come out of his mouth, you needed it. 

“Joel..” You were all but moaning out as you unzipped his pants, eager to get your hands on him.

He was pulling you in for another hungry kiss as you shoved his jeans down just enough to get your hands into the waistband of his underwear. Here you were in the middle of your kitchen with your hands down Joel’s pants– something you didn’t foresee happening when you invited him over earlier that day. But the two of you were so fucking pathetic and needy, having finally given into your feelings for one another. There was no time to waste, you needed to feel every single inch of him right here next to your kitchen sink.

The groan that left his lips when you finally had his cock enveloped in your gentle touch was enough to send a rush through your entire body. You pumped him up and down making sure to maintain a slow pace to purposefully draw another sinful noise from his mouth.

Just as you thought, your mild movements had the man in front of you sighing out in pleasure. It was a sigh of true relief; you wondered about the last time Joel had been with someone like this. The thought spurred you on, making your hand move faster from the excitement of being the first person in a long time to make him feel this way.

Joel’s jaw tensed and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head when your eyes flickered down to his dick. You were watching your own hand as it worked to bring him closer to completion. He wasn’t accustomed to this– having a pretty young thing handling him like this. There was no way he was gonna last long, not with your delicate hands sliding on his cock and your innocent gaze peering down between your bodies. 

In seconds his hand was on your wrist halting your movements. 

“Joel-“

You were ready to protest but your words were caught in your throat as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter. His lips were back on yours in a messy kiss while his hands fumbled with your jeans, practically ripping them from your body. 

“Need to feel ya darlin’.” He was panting out against you when his hand came in contact with your core, the thin material of your panties stopping him from touching your bare center. 

You didn’t have to feel them to know how wet your panties were. They were drenched the second your hand was on Joel’s arm earlier. All you had to do was think about the man and a pool of arousal would appear between your legs.

“Fuck you’re soaked.”

The words were laced with pride as he felt the ruined cloth with his fingertips. You wanted to moan at the feeling of his hand putting even the tiniest bit of pressure against that needy spot between your legs. You wanted some sort of relief– needed to feel him touch you.

As if he could read your mind, Joel was pushing your panties to the side and gliding a finger over the wetness pooling at your opening.

“If I knew you were this needy for me, would have done this a long time ago.”

As the words left his lips he was slipping a single finger into you at an agonizing pace. Slowly moving it in and out while you gripped at his arms for some sort of stability.

Fuck– even just the one finger moving in and out of you insanely slow was enough to have you seeing stars. So when he added a second you nearly dug your nails into Joel’s arm hard enough to leave marks.

His fingers were working into you, each stroke more mind numbing than the last. He was pushing and curling them and the little noises leaving your mouth were absolutely pathetic.

“Your little whimpers are so pretty baby.” 

Baby. All these endearing pet names he was calling you had you falling apart. You were preening underneath Joel’s touch and every time he called you sweetheart, or darlin, or baby, you were further subdued into a state of surrender for him. 

“So pretty’n sweet just for me.” He was mumbling with his fingers knuckles deep inside you.

You could feel the pressure building in your core with each deliberate movement of his fingers. Your gaze found his and the look of need consuming him pushed you closer to the edge. Your eyes were locked on one another, your forehead pressed against his as you gripped his arms tighter. 

“C’mon sweet girl, let me hear it.” Joel’s words were a low growl as he coaxed your orgasm from you.

“Wanna hear the pretty little sounds you make when you come undone.” 

His whisper was the final blow that had you spiraling toward release. You were chanting his name as you clenched around his fingers.

Your chest was heaving, and you could hardly think straight but you didn’t hesitate to pull Joel closer to you.

He was standing between your legs as you sat on your kitchen counter, your chests almost touching and his hard cock inches away from meeting your entrance. 

“Joel please.” You were out of breath and nearly speechless, still shaking from your climax, but you needed the satisfaction of Joel filling you. You wanted more than his fingers.

In an instant, he was lining himself up with you and pushing his tip in just enough to make you groan in pleasure. Hearing you beg for him like that– his name dripping from your sweet lips, Jesus he’d do anything you asked. 

You were moaning out satisfied little hums with each inch of him that filled you. He was pushing into you slowly savoring every pulse of your walls around his cock.

“So tight sweetheart.” His voice was low as he watched between your bodies. His eyes were staring at your sweet little cunt as you sucked him in deeper and deeper, so needy to be filled– so greedy for him.

You could only moan in response. The feeling of him stretching you out had the coil in your abdomen already tightening again.

He was pushing into you to the hilt and you instinctively grabbed at his shoulders, gripping and pulling at him in pleasure. You just needed to feel more of him– all of him. Your hands ached to feel every square inch of his body.

With your fingers splayed out on his back, Joel pulled out only to thrust back into you fully. Doing this over and over again until you were nearly screaming out underneath him. He could feel your fingertips digging into his shoulder blades which only made him drive into you deeper.

He was thrusting and you were a moaning, writhing mess against him, your bodies meshing together on the tile of your kitchen counter. The lewd sounds of whimpers and skin slapping filled the room and all you could think about is how close you were to coming apart again. Your legs clenched around Joel’s waist as your core strained.

Without warning, he brought his hand between you, letting his thumb fall to your clit. He was rubbing lazy circles into your bundle of nerves while his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot inside you and your body nearly went limp.

“Got another one for me?” His words were broken by grunts.

“Wanna feel you squeeze around me while you cum sweet girl.”

His dirty words were going to shove you right over the edge. With each word he spoke, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line wanting nothing more than to please him.

You felt your body begin to shudder and your second orgasm of the night set in.

“Atta girl. There she is. Good girl.”

That was it. The words of encouragement you needed to completely let go. You were whimpering and gripping onto Joel as your release rushed over you.

The way you were clenching and squeezing around his cock made Joel’s head spin. You were nearly pushing him out, it was so tight and warm and Fuck- he was losing it.

You were barely tethered to earth as he continued sliding in and out of you. His pace was ruthless as he chased his own high. He was fucking you straight through your orgasm, the feeling of it too much for the both of you.

His hands were pawing at your waist, holding onto you as he thrusted relentlessly. The breathy moans and inaudible profanities coming from his mouth signaled his impending release.

You were pulling him in closer with your hands on his back, pushing him into you deeper.

“I want you to cum inside.” You were whining out.

You weren’t sure how you were even forming coherent sentences at this point but the only thing more important than regaining your sanity was the idea of Joel spilling into you when he finished.

“Please Joel, wanna feel it.”

There you were begging for him again. He had absolutely no self control when you spoke to him like that. And when he pulled back to get a good look at you, he almost lost himself entirely. Your gaze was glossed over and your eyelids heavy, you were completely fucked-out on his cock. It was enough to finish him off.

The look in your eyes and the feeling of your walls so tight and inviting around him, had Joel coming undone. He was leaning forward and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a long drawn out moan.

His load was shooting into you all wet and warm. It was coating your insides and making you hold on tighter to the man doubled over on top of you.

You sat there, your bodies molding together, breath catching and hearts beating. Both of you in shock over how you ended up in this position after a harmless meal shared at your kitchen table.

“So…” You were still breathless as you spoke, trying to gage how Joel was feeling about your current situation.

“Should probably finish those dishes huh?”

He was picking his head up from the comfort of your shoulder and tilting his neck to motion over to the sink next to you.

He was wearing the goofiest smile all sex drunk and proud.

If Joel’s expression told you anything; that wouldn’t be the last time the two of you end up fucking on your kitchen counter.

my masterlist

[seewetter]

My first thought at hearing horror described as "a predatory force seeking out the exposed and vulnerable elements of society" made me think of a movie about a monster tormenting people who refuse to be vulnerable and at the end the "final girl" has vulnerability but must spend a highly uncomfortable eternity with the monster.

But then I realized that while that would make a good horror movie, it would just be the flip side of the coin of horror movie avoidance. The audience then simply gets "action movie"-like gratification where the victims have to open up and be vulnerable and laughs in schadenfreude when they fail at this task. It could be good horror, but it wouldn't challenge its target audience, who don't relate to the victims in the film. The audience would side with the monster, and watching the predation with a certain level of emotional detachment. "Ahaha, that frat bro couldn't show vulnerability, go get him". This could be a fun movie, but it's not a template for the appeal of horror. And people who don't want to be vulnerable in that particular way can become more entrenched in their mindset, because the film isn't just victimizing (people like) them, it mocks its victims, it addresses the audience as people superior to those victims.

If, say, a slasher movie features a bunch of frat bros who never open up to each other, this doesn't reflect real vulnerabilities of frat bros, who IRL do tell each other pretty harrowing stories and show emotional vulnerability in the right social setting -- the reason shitty men bully emotional or "weak" men in group settings is cishet patriarchal pecking order / violence. These guys do all these weak and emotional things all the time, just under the "right" pretense. So a horror film where frat bros are killed for being repressed kind of misses its mark as social criticism.

But even if the film killed frat bros or karens or other groups of privileged people who either repress something or hide a violent underbelly of their group, a challenging horror film walks a fine line.

Any horror film that simply *gives them what they deserve*, say a slasher film where frat bros die one-by-one as the monster seeks out guys who aren't, as prev put it "reduced to tears", is wish-fulfillment for an audience critical of frat bro culture. Like I'd get a kick out of it, I think such stories should be told and I'll watch at least a few of them, but I know deep down that I'm watching something that doesn't actually affect me. Don't misunderstand me: I don't think entertainment needs to be pure. I don't think it needs to teach valuable lessons. But since people above are discussing the kind of infantile mindset where someone basically doesn't like about horror the very thing that makes it horror (the helplessness) I can't but mention that to really get audiences to experience helplessness, you need *them* to actually feel helpless. So watching some Karen who totally deserves to get chopped to bits feel helpless ...only works if *you're* a Karen like that yourself -- and even then might not work if you rightfully(?) suspect this entertainment was made by other people to make fun of you or feel superior to you.

Schadenfreude (enjoying the damage others face) is absolutely a viable ingredient for entertainment: but absurdly, it's an ingredient for a feelgood movie. A morality play that preaches to the choir.

This is one reason why trans women and people with physical disfigurements have been so attentive to transmisogyny and ableism in horror. Because in both cases, the mainstream has been making feelgood movies where the monster is Other and people can feel superior to that form of otherness. They can pat themselves on the back for thinking that disfigurement makes someone monstrous or uncomfortable or undesireable or disgusting. A disfigured monster's body would not be half as ableist if it wasn't part of a sort of morality tale feelgood movie, where bad people get what they deserve and good people go rewarded. Giving the disfigured monster more sympathy effectively doesn't just muddle the ableism, but also muddles the predation and violence of the monster. Which won't really make sense to the audiences who wanted a morality play to feel better about themselves but also--- morality plays are a part of horror, but they are kind of like decaf coffee. It's horror without the helplessness of horror.

Even a film with an amoral ending, like Cabin in the Woods, is basically just defanged horror, it's an action comedy with horror tropes and weird sci-fi and fantasy elements. The amoral ending (just letting the world get destroyed) is cool and entertaining, but this is definitely a feelgood film.

If someone wants to make a film about unavoidable pain and suffering, then they can't shy away from actually inflicting that fictional pain and suffering on their fictional characters. And if that movie is meant to avoid the thing where wealthy suburbanites are victims of the murder doll or demon home invasion or whatever, if you want to show the vulnerability of homeless people for example...well then you can't shy away from portraying the futility of their attempts to get help.

Feelgood films (both the Action Horror movie and the Schadenfreude Morality Play) have their place in the world of storytelling and can say interesting things. But the impulse to always want "soft" horror is maybe partly due to how effective it can be, as a genre, to actually make people live through helplessness and unavoidable pain. I don't think the last type is more legitimate, but I do think, especially when it deals with marginalized pain or deals with privileged pain in a way that truly hits its mark, people will tend to not want to watch it.

It's not uniquely American for people to not want to get to close to this sort of pain. It seems like the product of neoliberalism: even the most victimized people in the poorest countries are told that what truly matters is their authenticity, their integrity. Labour is increasingly expendable, people can easily lose everything... and so they are being comforted with the idea that at least they *are themselves* (hence why I'm always trying to define being trans not as "who I am, who I truly am inside" and more in terms of "my freedom of association and self-definition is being taken from me, using biology as an excuse". When people want to *be themselves*, experiencing a story where they have to be vulnerable can be incredibly difficult.

I'm still not sure why rich people applauded "Parasite" -- did the film fail on some level, or did they shield themselves from the film's message -- and I can't say what the magic ingredients are to make a story impact its target audience. Parasite, though, is about poor people told from their perspective -- and rich folks are the Other. So maybe that explains its muted effect: Like that social media post about bullies at school cheering on Dumbo the elephant beating up his bullies. This is the story of Dumbo, audiences cheer Dumbo on because they like him. They aren't vulnerable to the critique of Dumbo or Parasite, because the hero isn't a bully like them. And bullies are fundamentally unsympathetic as characters. Audiences tend to want them to die.

I think a really psychologically effective horror film is one where the protagonists are people the audience relates to, who do bad things that the audience somewhat dislikes but can find understanding for and where the antagonist isn't a bringer of morality, but simply a force of destruction. Where the core defining aspect of the monster isn't how clearly it reflects some real-world problem, but how relentlessly it pursues its tastes or agenda. The monster(s) acts like a real-life problem in its horrific effects, but it isn't allegorical. Or at least not allegorical for an issue near and dear to the audience's heart. But I'm not sure how much horror can actually cause audience introspection. I don't think we can fully expect entertainment to hit the mark on that. People watch entertainment for the fun of it -- if someone wants entertainment to be transformative, they need to take notes from entertainment that appears to have a genuinely transformative effect (like "A Short Film About Killing" which supposedly ended the death penalty in Poland or "Jaws" which supposedly caused a temporary shark murder spree).

But regardless I think it makes sense to realize that horror films that make the audience feel smart for avoiding bad things and horror films that harrow the audience with inescapable horror are pandering to different desires and are, in a sense, different genres. If you know that, you have a better grasp on how to design your own stories or how to recommend stories you come in contact with.

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[mayxxday]

Well-Conditioned : Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was acting oddly. And that was underwhelming of a statement to put it because he was all over the place. Fidgeting, crackling, and irritation were through the roof. Katsuki was barely in his seat even. Bouncing his leg, he couldn't help but feel like he did something wrong. Why else, wouldn’t you kiss his cheek as you always did whenever he did something for you?

Katsuki sucked ass when it came to talking love. But it wasn’t that he didn’t show it through his actions. Softened gaze dripping honey each time he wiped his sweat palms on his pants before cupping your cheeks. There was no way he’s gonna get the sticky vile flammable on you—his precious. 

Katsuki showed his love when he snatched your backpack off your shoulder, throwing it over his while he dragged you out of the class. He earned himself a sickly sweet kiss on his cheek, showing that you acknowledged his actions and their meaning. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but that’s what anyone but them would say.

Katsuki wasn’t big on grand gestures of love either but he made do with little trinkets and stickers he bought because ‘he thought of you’. And you like it that way. Or at least that’s what he inferred when you would jump into his arms, kissing all over his face.

He surely couldn’t write about his love, he tried that crap and ended up charring his desk black. But he packed you bentos whenever you were to travel back home from the UA dorms. He made sure to put in extra effort and make the fanciest dishes in case your parents were to see the food and judge him off it ( a good potential husband?). Before you would have seen the inside contents or noticed a lacking love note he should have written to you, he would have his arm tugged down, his precious on her toes, to press a big smooch to his cheek. 

Katsuki was more than gentlemanly for you, he was your boyfriend, so, of course, he tied your shoelaces for you (why do you still use the bunny ears method, is his excuse), draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore skirts, all because he knew you liked to manspread worse than him. He carries pads and hair ties in his bag, but which boyfriend wouldn’t? He holds your heels with a grumpy frown, holding your waist to ensure you didn’t trip in his shoes because you thought you could handle being in heels all day. 

Katsuki did all this not for praise or compliment. No, he wasn’t obligated to do these either, but he did it because that’s what a good boyfriend would do for you. That however didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate or relish the kisses he received each time he showed his love through his actions. 

So what was different today? When he draped his jacket around your shoulder today, why didn’t he get his kiss? And he knows you noticed it, turning your head to him offer your sweet smile, before returning back to your conversation with Mina. 

THAT’S IT? Katsuki was confused, he had even leaned in to receive his daily dose of kiss, instead of awkwardly standing back straight noticing his instinct. Was he desperate? No. Was he needy? Maybe. Why can’t a man get his share of kisses?

Staring at you annoyed he waited for you to notice. 

BUT YOU NEVER DID.  

He even huffed thrice, each time only receiving a distracted rub on his thigh while you gossiped with Mina. Gosh, he wanted to explode her right now. When he finally got over his petty subtle hints he just grabbed your face to face him. 

"How long will it take ya' to kiss me, brat?” 

Katsuki was easy though. Maybe not for everyone, but his little doll had him wrapped around her finger. When you just smiled innocently at him, pecking his lips without a question. The beast was finally appeased. 

“Thank you for the jacket, ‘Suki”

Goddamn, this woman really had conditioned him to seek her kisses without a clue in her pretty head.

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[cherie-doll]

COD men’s reaction to their daughter having a boyfriend?

heh

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

۶ৎ Price...

It wouldn't ONLY be Price worrying over who this new boy in his daughter's life was, it's the entire task force that is there against Price's wishes, and that's only because he HAPPENED to open his big mouth and spill the beans on his daughter dating

Simply shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as the backup team of Ghost, Gaz and Soap walk in, heck even Laswell is on the line calling Price giving him "advice"

I can imagine Price telling his daughter to leave the room once you're all settled in, and you just raise an eyebrow and give him a look like asking "what's going on?", he tells you to leave too and the boyfriend is sitting there, confused, palms sweaty as Price readjusts in his seat clearing his throat and saying "let's get one thing straight"

He really just wanted to set some things straight, but poor boy thought he was about to get kicked out or beaten because this is a man who's been in the military for years, not to mention the big buff guys who keep peeking over the corner with a menacing look every once in a while

Afterwards, you come around to Price asking what he told the boy, surely he didn't scare him away, right? He didn't, only told him to treat his daughter well and there wouldn't be any problems

۶ৎ Ghost...

Would be super protective, well what parent wouldn't? but he's on a different level, and both you and your daughter knew this, so your daughter tried finding a good moment to introduce the boyfriend

She let him know ahead of time so the initial shock response happened before he was able to get his hands on the poor young man dating your daughter, when the moment came Simon couldn't even sit still

He was standing, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe between the kitchen and living room when his daughter walked in with her boyfriend, staring daggers into the back of his head

Simon would never tell his daughter to break up or leave a boy she was into, but he would definitely warn her to be cautious, he just doesn't want her to be hurt, and God forbid THAT happen

He would go to whatever lengths necessary to keep that from happening, a heavy hand on the boyfriend's shoulder every time he comes to pick her up for a date, a subtle way of reminding him who's he dealing with

Surely, he wouldn't make a careless mistake while dating Simon's daughter

۶ৎ Soap...

He shares the same excitement as his daughter when she announces she's been asked out, he's happy for his girl, he's always seeking what's best for her and hopes she's happy, but when that initial enthusiasm wears off... he realizes he knows nothing about who asked his daughter out

Then, you have to hold him back from bombarding your daughter with questions, he'd annoy her real fast and that would only make her clam up and not reveal any information

He's worried about the type of guy who attracted his daughter, what if it was a criminal? Someone who could ruin her, do more harm than good? What if it didn't work out? What if it ended in heartbreak-

You have to knock some sense into him before he gets ahead of himself, if you were patient and kept your cool, your daughter would reveal all the details necessary herself without having to pry much and make it feel like an interrogation

He actually gets along quite well with his daughter's boyfriend once they get to know each other, they are obnoxious together and it annoys the hell out of not only you but your daughter too when they both end up spending more time together on Sundays

۶ৎ Gaz...

He was cooking breakfast when his daughter waltzed in, spinning and holding her phone close to her chest, Kyle smiled as he flipped a pancake, "And what's got you smiling like that?", he expected it to be something a teen her age would be giddy about, a band she liked coming to town? New episode of her favorite show released?

None of that turns out she's seeing a guy and he just asked her to be his girlfriend, when I tell you this man's jaw DROPPED and you had to call his name multiple times to bring him back to earth, "Honey...Kyle? The pancakes are burning"

You hugged your daughter and he did the same but as soon as she went back to her room he turned to you, whisper-yelling "Did I hear that right?", and you have to remind him it's normal for teens to start having an interest in dating

He truly is happy for his daughter, he just can't help but be a little worried, he'd hate for someone to break her vulnerable heart, but you bet he'd be very attentive and patient when his daughter wants to rant or has her first breakup

I don't think he'd be overly jealous, he'd only go on full dad mode if someone is selfish and hurts his daughter or tries forcing her to do something she doesn't want to, which is why he constantly sets an example with how he treats you so his daughter won't stand any bullshit her boyfriend tries to pull

۶ৎ Roach...

He'd probably just be shocked, not understanding entirely what his daughter just announced to the both of you, a boyfriend?! but wasn't it just yesterday that he was taking her elementary school? Roach hasn't realized how fast time flies, surely his daughter meant a boy FRIEND

He's quickly proven wrong when she calls out a name he hasn't heard before, and walking in is a young man the same age as his daughter, who comes to place an arm around her and introduce himself

oh, Roach couldn't mistake that look he just saw on his daughter's face, her eyes gleaming and bright as she looked up at her boyfriend

He greets the boyfriend but will then sit quietly and observe the entire time he's there, analyzing every move and sentence that comes out of that boy's mouth, he has a real knack for deciphering people's underlying intentions that you trust his instincts if he says either there is no malice detected from his daughter's boyfriend or if he senses something wrong

He mostly lets you handle this one because he doesn't know much about how kids date nowadays and lets you give advice instead

۶ৎ Alejandro...

He used to sometimes tense up whenever his relatives or someone would joke about his daughter growing up and having a partner, whenever it was brought up at a function he'd simply say nothing and continue to drink his beer quietly

Well his little girl did grow up and she kept the relationship somewhat of a secret for a while, afraid of what her dad's reaction would be, you had to be the one to sit him down and tell him while your daughter nervously waited in her room only for his reaction to be much better than you anticipated, hugged his daughter saying how happy he was to hear that

Still, sometimes he seemed to forget that the guy his daughter frequently brought around was her boyfriend because he kept referring to him as "ese amiguito tuyo" ("that little friend of yours")

Would make him do manual labor whenever your daughter brought her boyfriend around, Alejandro would ask him to help mow the lawn, or clean out the gutters with him, maybe help him finish building something and meanwhile they would have casual conversation

Overall, the boyfriend grew on Alejandro more and more that at this point he was considered a son and part of the family

۶ৎ Rudy...

He is very close with his daughter and has constantly been there for her in moments when she was a vulnerable teen, and he showered her with love and praise when she achieved her goals and accomplishments, he never had a reason to show hostility when she came home from college announcing that she had been in a relationship for a few months and wanted to introduce her boyfriend

Rudy couldn't help but feel just a little worried but he tried his best to keep those doubts hidden as to not come off as unwelcoming or controlling when he shook the hand of the man who had swept his daughter off her feet

I think Rudy was more worried about how he was acting in front of them that he even asked if he was balanced in his thoughts, you had to remind him that it was normal to worry about who your children chose to date, you had spent years raising and protecting them after all, but the fact that he was conscious of this proved how even now he put his daughter's wishes ahead of his own worries

He treated his daughter's boyfriend like a second son and always reminded his daughter how proud he was of her, he wished her all the happiness in the world in this new chapter of her life, it reminded him of when you and him started dating <3

۶ৎ Phillip Graves...

Who could be worthy of dating his daughter? The daughter of a commander? He had given her everything she wished for and more, was his daughter so sure she wanted to date so soon? Not that he was against it, he just sort of had high expectations

Phillip would have preferred if it had been someone he already knew, maybe one of his Shadow's children who were around the same age as his daughter, because then he already knew their family, etc...

But this introduction of someone new had him alert, he was ready to do anything in favor of his daughter if they made her upset, turns out he had nothing to worry about because his daughter was dating a nerd, what her boyfriend lacked in social skills he excelled in academics and personality, not to say he treated her like Phillip had always accustomed his daughter to being treated

The same delicate attention and sincerity, Phillip liked that right away and was always asking his daughter when she'd invite her boyfriend over again

Next thing you knew, Phillip would gladly tell anyone willing to listen how his daughter was not only the best daughter he had but he now also had a great future son-in-law

۶ৎ Makarov...

Uhmm, he would be VERY well informed of any guy that would show interest in his daughter, probably senses it before the daughter even develops strong feelings for the interested guy

He has his ways of finding out everything on the guy, his background, family, financial status, his connections... everything, and imagine the reaction of his daughter when she finds out what her dad's been up to in his free time, she would freak out and demand for him to stop

They argue nonstop for hours, going back and forth until finally they make a deal, he stops "stalking" her boyfriend if she agrees to introduce the boyfriend to Makarov soon, they both agree and a date and time is set

You're with Makarov at the restaurant they agreed to meet up, and you're reminding Makarov to be reasonable while you wait for your daughter and her boyfriend to arrive

Makarov is looking down, fiddling with the eating utensils on the table as he breathes through his nose, you think he's too mad to respond to you but he gives in and nods, you smile and press a tender kiss to his cheek which seems to lighten his face up, a smile appearing on his lips

But that smile quickly disappears when he looks up to meet his daughter's boyfriend, this will be a long evening for him...

۶ৎ Keegan...

Keegan thinks that the young man who's knocking on your front door is a salesman or someone coming to offer their services, he's dressed sort of nice so Keegan is kind in turning him away, "Sorry, Kid. I'm not buying anything you've come to sell" and he's about to close the door when his daughter comes quickly, "Dad! That's my boyfriend"

Boyfriend? "Since when-" And he's left standing there, dumbfounded as you come to the rescue and welcome the boy in, you have to nudge Keegan with your elbow to remind him to be polite

He used to always say he'd come out with a gun to run off any guy who tried to bother his daughter but this caught him completely off guard, Keegan ends up not being able to find anything offensive or rude about his daughter's boyfriend to use against him so he has to come to terms with the fact that he's fine with it and lets them be

Your daughter secretly knew this which is why she wasn't as worried when inviting her boyfriend over, didn't tell Keegan and only let you know because she knew he'd take it better if he wasn't expecting anyone

۶ৎ König...

"Is it not too young-" You stop him there before he can say anything more, your daughter had just interrupted you reading and König just so happened to be around to hear when your daughter mentioned a guy

He doesn't understand that some start dating in their teens or as young adults because he never really gave it much thought when he was that age, he assumed everyone else was like that

He doesn't know how to react when there's a guy just there, suddenly and shaking his hand, König is too immersed in his thoughts to notice how nervous the guy is as he looks up at the intimidating height of König, he could easily be snapped in half, and he thought he was tall...

Your daughter's boyfriend also isn't used to how silent König gets sometimes, so he's sitting there worried and shaking thinking he said or did something wrong for his girlfriend's father to just be dead silent, not directing a word to him but instead muttering under his breath

König is just trying to think of what to ask, because in situations like these he needs to find out stuff about his daughter's boyfriend, right?

۶ৎ Horangi...

This man is not taking it seriously, at all, now is not the time to bring up an old video he had taken when his daughter was five years old saying how she wasn't ever going to marry or like a boy

He's clowning her with his video he somehow still had saved while your daughter just sits there like -_-, you have to try and convince him to put the phone away before the waiter at the restaurant you're at comes over to ask him to leave for disrupting the other customers

He unintentionally interrupts their dates or when they're having a moment by calling his daughter on her phone or if they're at your house he comes around to the living room to watch tv even though they were trying to have a conversation in that room

So you have to constantly keep him distracted and occupied or else he'll want to go join his daughter and her boyfriend because he thinks whatever they're doing is a lot more fun and he thinks it's back like when his daughter was a little girl and was always inviting him to play games together

۶ৎ Nikto...

While he couldn't ever be bothered to pay attention at the dinner table when his daughter mentioned having a new crush at school, Nikto became a lot more serious when your daughter brought over a guy for dinner, who is this boy and what's he doing sitting and eating in his house?

He's confused to see the that who his daughter spent evenings talking to on the phone is this ordinary guy eating beside him, Nikto looks over to you and notices how attentive you are to everything the boy is saying, you smile and nod endlessly and he wonders if he should be doing the same

But with the scar on his lip it's hard to make it seem as pleasant as yours, he focuses on just listening and eating in silence, once the boy leaves he asks who that was, a partner his daughter brought to work on something school related? "No, Nikto. That's her boyfriend" HER WHAT-

Suddenly, he wishes he would have tuned in a little sooner when he had noticed the boy, Nikto simply turns to your daughter, "Does he treat you well?" She meekly answers yes and Nikto shrugs, "No problems, we're good" and he leaves for his nap

[sheeple]

Part two to this. This series also has a title now: John has liked your photo! Hope you enjoy this as much as last time. Does it also show how little I know about kissing?

The second time you and John see each other in a cafe in the city centre. This time it's you who suggests meeting up. It made John feel giddy and like a schoolboy again when your text lit up his phone screen.

Your anxiousness made you way too early — as usual. But not too soon after, John appears in the cafe, also way too early. It makes you giggle.

"What is your go-to coffee order?", you ask while waiting in line, eyeing the menu and the delicious-looking pastries.

John hums, his hands clasped behind his back. "I hate to disappoint you, doll, but I'm a black coffee guy. Or tea."

Turning towards him with your eyes wide, not knowing if it is because of the nickname or the confession to drink coffee with nothing in it. "Not even some milk?"

He shakes his head with a smile. "None. If I'm in shipped out I'm happy to get a cuppa so I got used to the stuff raw."

Now you feel stupid for your usual very sweet coffee order. John sees the subtility in your face and he bumps his shoulder against yours. "Well, you are what you eat. So no wonder you're so sweet."

It makes your face heat up and you stumble over your words, not sure how to get out a response.

The line quickly moves along and John orders his black coffee and you your white chocolate mocha. Before he has time to grab his wallet, you've whipped out your phone and paid for it. You give him a daring smile while giving your name.

The two of you go sit in a quiet corner and wait for the coffee to arrive. You are telling some story about what has happened at work this week and halfway your name gets called out. John holds out his hand so you can stay put, and he grabs the order.

"Sorry, go on", he says with a smile when he returns with the coffees, placing yours in front of you with the ear facing your dominant hand.

"So", you say after finishing your story, "we haven't really talked about what we seek. You know... with dating and such." You nervously trace the rim of the glass, glancing up at the man.

John's leaning relaxed back into the chair, his legs spread wide and a comfortable smile on his face. "Gauging the vibe, doll?"

You can't help but feel your cheeks heat up again as you slink slightly down. "Maybe. Wouldn't want to waste your time if you want something completely different than me." You shrug, trying to play it cool.

That makes him lean forward a bit. "You sayin' that your time's less valuable than mine?"

That leaves you gaping like a fish. And it makes John crack a cheeky smile, showing he's teasing you.

"So do I have to worry about crazy exes or something?", he asks with a smile.

You shrug, putting your hair behind your ear. "Don't have to worry about something that's never been there", you say casually, taking a sip of your drink.

John's eyes bulge out of their sockets. Did he hear you correctly? Have you never dated anyone? How could such a wonder as you not have boys and men lined up and down the street, jumping for just a glance from you?

"Do I?", you ask timidly at his wide eyes and no response.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he clears his throat. Now is the time to come clean. "I mean... not like you have to worry about her, but there is my ex-wife."

"Wife?!" You clasp a hand over your mouth as you said that a bit too loud. "A-and for how long are you divorced? If I may ask, at least."

John smiles at your bashfulness. "Almost two years. We were married just short of a year. It was impulsive and I quickly discovered that being married to her wasn't as great as I thought it would be."

Unconsciously, you reach out and take hold of his hand. You can understand how hard it is to admit something like that to practically a stranger. "It must have been hard, going through that time in your life. Never mind the judgement of others."

He nods. "Something like that. It was more of the pitying glances of my family and their comments that got me at first. Their opinions about her and me and our relationship weren't always the kindest. But you get used to it and after a while, you get desensitized."

As you open your mouth to say something, a call of your name makes the two of you turn your heads. "Oh lord", you mumble as your aunt and cousin come walking towards the two of you.

"How are you, dear? " your aunt smiles widely, pulling you up for a hug. "I haven't seen you in a while! How's school? Oh, right. Your mum told me you quit and are working now. How do you like it? And who is this?" She turns her attention towards John.

The man dutiful stands up and offers his hand to your aunt. "John Price, ma'am."

From behind your aunt, you see your cousin lean over and mouth the words, "Who's that?", to you. "Date", you mouth back. She checks him once over and nods in appreciation.

"Oh mum, didn't you say you needed to go to that one store before it closes?", asks your cousin loudly, pulling the attention from your aunt.

"Right! It was lovely meeting you, John. See you next time, dear." Your aunt kisses both your cheeks as a goodbye before pulling her daughter behind her. You just know you'll get a text from her later on to demand the tea.

"I am so sorry", you laugh as you sit back down, hiding your face behind your hands.

John joins you and shakes his hands. "It's fine. Aunts are kinda my speciality."

"Really?"

"No", he smiles.

The rest of the afternoon goes by with smiles and laughs and good conversation until the staff has to, again like last time, kick you out and you're reluctant to say goodbye to John.

He walked to your car. It cracked him up to see the bright yellow car that lights up when you press the unlock button. Oh, how fitting of you to drive such an eyesore.

You hoover by the door, fiddling with your keys. "I had a really good time today, John." You shyly look up, your cheeks radiating heat.

John slowly inches closer, laying a hand on your cheek. "I did too." His eyes flicker between your own and your lips. You can't help but swipe your tongue over your bottom lip before taking it between your teeth.

"I desperately wanted to kiss you all day. Can I kiss you?"

Looking at him, you nod, searching for the right words. Stumbling out a 'yeah', John closes the distance and lightly presses his lips against yours.

Not knowing what to do, you lean into the kiss and close your eyes. John slides his other hand around your middle to pull you flush against his body. Your hands feel awkward so you replicate what you've seen over the years in movies and TV and place them first on his shoulders before sliding to the back of his neck.

A soft grumble comes from deep within his chest before you pull back, feeling like you are going to pass out if you don't. Either from the lack of air or your first-ever kiss.

Smiling wide, John rests his forehead against yours. "How am I to drive away from you now, doll."

You shrug, still slightly out of breath. "I'm wondering that myself." A giggle escapes you, licking your lips. "But I really have to go through... My parents are waiting for me. We're going to my grandma..."

"Those blasted parents of yours", teases John, letting go of you. "But if you have to go. Text me when you get home safe?"

You nod, opening your car door. "Will do. You too?"

John nods with a smile and watches how you drive away. Dear God. Is he crazy that he could envision the rest of his life together with you after the second date?

[austinsten]

I do not think that would be your fate.

What I always wanted for you was to be fearless and bold like we both know you are. You are very strong and brave. Thats who you are and you shouldn't be afraid to show it. You shouldnt take anymore shit and you shouldnt give yourself to anyone that doesnt love you like you deserve. Even if you have to do it to me. In fact you especially have to do it with me. shut me out, threaten me, hate me. Fine, so be it. As long as you're standing up for yourself when you're right and taking accountability when you're wrong. If I can't have you at least maybe i can help you and someday you can find a guy who will treat you how I always should have and actually be ready to keep him. Is that weird? Idk you're the girl I've always loved so much I just want you to be happy. I feel like you never believed i loved you or thought you were the most beautiful woman id ever seen. You should be with someone who makes you believe those things. I know you also carry the same sadness and unbearable anxiety from childhood trauma. I know i broke your trust When I yelled. I pushed you away when you couldnt talk to me. That is my own trauma and was never your fault. Its still no excuse and I can't save face. i should have learned your love language a lot sooner. I know you just wanted to be held and kissed like there was only us. I lost myself feeling so alone and just CRAZY because I wanted you to fight for us with me, I wanted to hear every thought and desire you hadn't shared so BAD i just wanted to reach you and help you. I just wanted to do it for real without playing any games, without manipulation. It was so hard to find a middle ground between being loving and being firm to not feel walked on. I laughed when you were mad because it was the only time I saw you truly express yourself and i just loved you so much I couldn't contain it. It made me so happy just to hear what was on your mind. I never asked you how your day was enough, i never kissed you like i should have. It was never just about sex for me, i was nuts about you from the start. i was truly your love fool for so, so long. But i also knew you kept secrets between us and i pushed you way too hard about it, i understand there was overlap. Its hard to settle on a feeling about it because you also would not have put yourself in that situation again, much less so many times after, if you weren't seeking attention and you did actually regret it. I know you were broken and in the dark. If we could just stop being so stubborn and be vulnerable enough to actually speak what were so afraid to. Its just sucks! Its so painful when we didnt even do this to each other were just fucked up from our childhood and cant stop hurting each other! Even knowing that. Sigh, i never wanted to make you feel small or unheard i was just so afraid to lose you! I never hated you I was just heartbroken. I wanted to stay forever, but we couldn't talk to each other. I just wanted the truth not more manipulation. I wanted to hear i was your love and the only man you wanted. I never wanted to silence you or talk over you. Quite the opposite. I wanted you to speak up. I loved you in ways you may never understand and it's my own fault.

- What do you fear, my lady? - A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (2002)

[onebadassunicorn]

Love Lies

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: revenge

word count: 1.5k

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness

Azriel permanent taglist: @kathren1sky-blog

Taglist @sinfully-yoursss @sillyfreakfanparty @phoenix666stuff @ quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @hellohauntedturnstudent @love-over-fears @kk191327 @i-am-infinite @historygeekqueen @yourdarkrose @fr0stfall @dnfhascorruptedme

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

******

Chapter 14

The journey to the Cauldron’s resting place was treacherous. Hidden deep in the wilds of the Night Court, the ancient artifact lay in a chamber buried beneath layers of stone and magic.

Few dared to seek it out, and even fewer survived.

The Cauldron was not a benevolent force; its power was raw, unbridled, and often cruel.

Rhysand and Feyre had reluctantly given him the information he needed after hours of convincing.

“You realize the Cauldron doesn’t grant favors without taking something in return,” Feyre had said, her expression serious.

“I know,” Lucien had replied, his voice steady. “But this isn’t just for me. It’s for Elain, too. Neither of us deserves to be bound to something we don’t want.”

Rhysand had leaned back in his chair, his violet eyes unreadable. “You’re playing with fire, Lucien. Be sure you’re prepared to pay the price.”

Now, as Lucien approached the hidden chamber, those warnings echoed in his mind. But he pushed them aside.

This was the only way.

*****

The chamber was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against his ears and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint metallic scent of ancient power.

At the center of the room sat the Cauldron. It was enormous, its blackened surface gleaming faintly in the dim light that seemed to emanate from nowhere. Shadows clung to it, writhing like living things, and the air around it pulsed with an energy that felt alive.

Lucien stepped closer, his boots echoing on the stone floor. His chest tightened as he felt the weight of the Cauldron’s presence, its attention turning toward him like an unseen gaze.

“I’ve come to make a request,” he said, his voice firm despite the way his hands trembled at his sides.

The Cauldron seemed to react, its shadows rippling outward like a wave. A deep, resonant hum filled the chamber, vibrating through his bones.

Lucien took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet the Cauldron’s invisible gaze. “You forged a bond between me and Elain,” he said. “A bond neither of us chose or wanted. She has rejected it, and I… I no longer wish to carry it. I ask you to sever it.”

The shadows around the Cauldron deepened, the hum growing louder. The air became heavy, pressing down on him with an almost physical force.

“I’m not asking for power,” he continued, his voice steady despite the pressure building around him. “I’m not asking to reshape fate. I’m only asking for freedom—for both of us.”

The Cauldron pulsed, its power shifting as though it were considering his request. The shadows swirled faster, and for a moment, Lucien thought he heard faint whispers, voices speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.

Without warning, the Cauldron erupted with power. Shadows and light burst from its surface, swirling in a chaotic dance that filled the chamber with an overwhelming energy.

Lucien staggered back, gasping as the force of it struck him. The bond—the faint, constant thread connecting him to Elain—suddenly flared to life, its presence sharper and more tangible than it had ever been.

The Cauldron’s power latched onto the bond, and Lucien cried out as a searing pain tore through him. It was as if the magic was pulling at his very soul, unraveling something that had become a part of him.

He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as the bond stretched and frayed. The pain was unbearable, sharp and relentless, but he refused to yield.

He had endured worse.

He had survived death, betrayal, and heartbreak.

He could survive this.

The tension in the bond built until, with a final, blinding flash of light, it snapped.

Lucien collapsed forward, gasping for air as the room fell silent once more. The weight he had carried for so long was gone, the thread that had tied him to Elain severed completely.

He remained on the ground for a long moment, his body trembling from the strain. Slowly, he reached out with his senses, searching for the bond that had always been there—a faint hum he had grown so accustomed to.

But there was nothing.

He closed his eyes, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

For the first time in years, he felt truly free.

As he pushed himself to his feet, his legs unsteady, he turned to the Cauldron. Its shadows had retreated, its power quiet once more. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

The Cauldron offered no response, its ancient presence as indifferent as ever.

Lucien staggered out of the chamber, the cold air of the forest a welcome balm against his heated skin. Though he was exhausted, his chest felt lighter, unburdened for the first time in years.

He was free.

Free to live, free to love, and free to give his heart to someone who deserved everything he had to give.

His heart, finally untethered, was now free.

*****

Meanwhile, somewhere in a tavern in Hewn City…

Elain Archeron had never known such hatred before.

Had never felt rage so consuming, so suffocating, so utterly venomous that it burned her from the inside out.

But that was before she watched Azriel kiss you.

Before she watched him vow himself to you, swear that you were his forever, claim you with every breath, every touch, every whispered word of devotion.

Before she realized—she had lost.

And you had won.

You.

The obstacle standing between her and the life she was meant to have.

The woman who had stolen what should have been hers.

She despised you.

Despised everything about you.

Your strength.

Your resilience.

Your beauty.

Your fire.

But more than anything—she despised the fact that Azriel loved you.

That no matter what she had done, no matter how carefully she had executed her plan, no matter how much she had manipulated him, drugged him, twisted his mind—

It was never enough.

Because in the end, he still chose you.

And now?

Now, she had nothing.

Lucien had broken the bond, severed the last thread of her security, her safety net.

She was exiled.

Banished.

Cast out like nothing but an inconvenience.

And it was all your fault.

If it hadn’t been for you, Azriel would have fallen for her.

If it hadn’t been for you, he would have stayed at her side, chosen her, loved her the way she was meant to be loved.

If it hadn’t been for you, she wouldn’t be wandering through Hewn City now, alone, desperate, furious.

But she would not remain powerless.

No.

She would make sure you paid for what you had done to her.

Would make sure you suffered as she had suffered.

Would make sure that if she couldn’t have Azriel—then neither could you.

Her hands curled into fists as she prowled through the dark streets of Hewn City, hatred pulsing through her veins like a living thing.

And then, like fate itself had whispered her vengeance into existence,

She heard a name.

Alatar.

Her breath caught, her heartbeat thrumming with wicked purpose.

She had heard of him before.

He was the one who had taken you in, the one who had nearly broken the mating bond, the warlock who was feared throughout all of Prythian.

And now—he would be her salvation.

Because if he had nearly severed your tie to Azriel before, if he had nearly erased you from the world, if he had once claimed you as a valuable addition to his collection…

Then maybe, just maybe—

He would finish the job.

A slow, twisted smile crept across her face.

Yes.

If she couldn’t make Azriel love her, then she would tear you away from him.

For eternity.

And then—then, she would watch him fall apart, shatter, break beyond repair.

And when he was nothing but a shell of the warrior he had once been, when the grief had hollowed him out until there was nothing left—

She would be the only one left standing.

She would be the only one who could comfort him, who could pick up the broken pieces.

And maybe then, just maybe, he would finally see her.

Finally love her.

Finally realize that she was the one he should have chosen all along.

Elain’s steps quickened, her heart pounding with dark, unrelenting purpose as she moved through the shadows, heading straight for the one male who could help her make her plan a reality.

Because she was done waiting.

Done hoping.

Done losing.

This time—she would take what she wanted.

And she would watch as you suffered for ever daring to stand in her way.

*****

This chapter will be the prologue to Lucien's story that I have written and am currently editing. And - of course, this story will continue on. Thank you for reading my silly fics!

[bunnyinvanilla]

you just need reassurance from old sugar daddy!john price aaall the time — bunnies are territorial, especially a soft, young, little bunny girl like you… (laaaarge age gap, reader is 21 and price is in his late 40s)

“what the heck is a barracks bunny?”

the urgency behind your voice rung in john’s ears like an alert bell, like the one he’d always felt when he’d been a lieutenant — he hadn’t expected you to stomp in front him like that, phone in hand and frowning.

“what? who taught you this word, doll? was it Johnny-“

your sweet voice interrupted him, followed by your free hand, lifted upwards towards him in a dismissive manner, “no no, sir, pleaser, answer my question.”

he’d never seen you like this, hand adorably set on your hip, titled in the most delicate yet delicious way, doe eyes narrowed and slightly squinted, excepting an answer — your sweet, sweet bunny features clearly petty over something.

always so polite and obedient, so sweet and kind, what had gotten into you?

“is there one at the base, sir? I promise, if the answer is yes i-“

but you stumbled on your own words, because as soon as he caught the sparks of irritation in your voice, he stood up, straightening his muscular and board shoulders — he looked down at you, his buff body that always picked you up so effortlessly slowly inched closer to you.

“you what, doll? mmh?” his voice sounded rougher, a hint of threatening warning behind it.

you flattered your lashes, tenderly, a silent, docile sign of submission in the midst of that moment,

“is there one, sir?” you repeated, your voice small but steady, tilting your head all the way up to meet his intense, sharp gaze.

“you already know the answer, princess, of course not. where did you even learn that from?”

”it doesn’t matter, sir, I-“ you replied dismissively, but his voice rumbled taking over your own, a low, gruff baritone that echoes deeply in your eardrums

“asked you a question, sweetheart. where.”

you swallowed, your eyelids trembling softly as you blinked up at him, shifting your position — when bunnies felt neglected, they pushed their nose against their owner’s body, seeking, demanding attention and clarification.

“everyone on the internet is talking about being afraid of their men in the military possibly having one, and-“

“and you immediately thought we’d have one at the base, huh doll?”

you softened your expression, and he could finally recognize his bunny back, obedient and gentle “you can’t blame me sir, i was only worried, was simply a question, i never know what really goes on at the base and—“

“no, no, no doll, you need to remember who you’re talking to, even when you ‘only want to ask’” he lifted his large hand and cupped your chin, squeezing your cheeks with a firm, yet gentle enough grip. “understand?”

your cheeks burned, bright and red between his calloused fingers, “I know but—“

a flicker of warning passed through his thin, squinted eyes like a shooting star, “do you understand, doll?”

you pressed your lips together, the serious look behind his eyes making your imaginary bunny ears tug down, back towards your head, and your tail tuck between your legs — you only nodded, still holding the same pouty expression.

he tilted his head expectantly, deepening his voice and cooing down at you, slightly raising his brows “that’s not how you answer me, is it sweetheart?”

“yes, daddy,” you finally let the words slip out, eyes softening even more when you recognized the tiny twitch of his mustache, that tried to hide and disguise his growing entertainment —

your cheeks burn brightly, a warm, red blush that almost felt warm against his calloused fingers, how could he be mad at his bunnygirl for being worried about her daddy? you’re so clingy and possessive, and it amuses him :(

with a short tug of you chin, he lifted your face closer to his, mere inches from his beard as he almost breathed against your lips, his voice so rough and low it sounded the rumble of distant fireworks.

“we don’t have that sort of thing at the base, angel, would never allow it, the only bunny I have hopping around me is you, little one. guess that makes you the captain’s personal barracks bunny, doesn’t it?”

[nightscythe]

dark sides of the primarchs' relationships

some of these are very dark (esp lorgar, angron, ferrus I guess) but I wanted to represent some of the less enjoyable themes in their relationships. some are kind of obvious, but I wanted to expand a little. again, it's how I write them, so you may not necessarily agree!!

18+ below the cut pls, it's sfw but some themes of death, obsession, etc, mostly pre-heresy

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the lion: struggles to interpret his feelings and often mistakes them as needs - namely, sexual need, but really any physical need. the heavy feeling in his heart because he hasn't seen you for weeks? must be because he had become used to your presence and his body must adapt to being without you. the burning in his chest when someone else dares to speak to you with a more suggestive tone? well, its not jealousy, it is his body telling him he needs you. overtime this would start to go, he would learn to interpret feelings in a more emotional way, but realistically he would need to care enough to want to try in the first place. he would always struggle though, turning every single one of his feelings about love into his duty. you're his responsibility, everyone else is a threat.

fulgrim: whilst it is obvious that his desire for perfection may have an impact on you, it has an equal burden on him. he always doubts himself, always taking a pessimistic view of both himself as a lover and to relationships as a whole. and your reassurance may never be enough, even if you do mean it and he seeks it out. he will always make each gift, each speech, each act of love bigger to meet his own desire to be better. and really? it can become more exhausting than anything. especially if he is always trying to prove himself and it sometimes starts to feel artificial. there would be a breaking point though where he finally realises to you, he is perfect, and there is nothing else he needs to do. but there is always that little, teeny doubt.

perty: trust issues will get to him more than anything. he'd need someone who has so much patience that it wears you down, but ultimately it would be worth it. the worst part is that he wouldn't often share how he feels, he keeps it to himself and sits brewing thoughts in his own head that you may just be like everyone else and not truly care. he'd keep it from you, never uttering a word, silently letting it all fester until it gets too much. and breaking down that wall he builds from his own thoughts would take a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of letting him work things out on his own. that's probably the biggest issue - he has a lot of time, something you may not as easily afford.

the khan: his idea of love is different. in a good way, maybe, but different to others. love for him is choice, and he will not restrict you to it. if you want to leave him, then go. if you want to spend a day without him, then do so. he'd really need someone who can deal with his laid back approach (or more so, his promotion of freedom above all other things) to love. that can be tough. his free spirit may just be too free to some people, and that's just what life is like. don't expect reassurance or speeches of his feelings, they are not happening. he's quick to make his decisions, his conclusions, and he's quick to temper. in the right conditions, this can make a storm. if anything ever goes bad.. good luck.

leman: it flips with him, very sudden, very easily. one day he's so enamoured, so utterly floored by everything you do that he's got massive heart eyes and following you around like a puppy. other times he's in his own world, following his own free spirit, that it can make you feel neglected. all of this just ends up causing more and more anxiety, unknowingly to him, and obviously to you. its all unintentional of course, he loves you so deeply. and his love itself? it's raw. he's so set on being stoic and strong but he is fragile too. he fears the worst, his emotions are never waste. everything he feels he shows directly to you. that can be overwhelming; all of this is overwhelming. especially when you could wake up one day and he's gone to do something without any warning, not evening thinking that you notice.

dorn: he's cold. he's so cold that it burns. or... is that the raging fire inside just reaching through the cracks? words mean nothing to him, and it can be difficult to truly know where you stand. he would never say he loves you, he would make you feel like he didn't ever need you, but should you ever leave? he'd tear the imperium down brick by brick until he had you back with him. it's unknowing to him. a duty. an unspoken loyalty. he doesn't believe in anything being temporary, so you're with him for life now. even if he never says it. and its the fact it's just actions, ones which may not mean anything to you, that makes it so hard. the door he gifted you with a heavy duty lock may be strange to you, but you did tell him you were worried about someone breaking in...

curze: does not feel he can be loved. he thinks he deserves it, but he never thinks anyone would dare. he thinks any affection shown to his is out of selfish fear and the second an opportunity presents itself, that love and affection would be gone. so he worries. he worries you are just like everyone else. makes assumptions, accusations, tells you that he thinks you're lying. probably because in the past he felt he should be loved and forced it out of people. he never once stops to think that maybe you lay beside him, you hold his hand, you take care of him, because you want to. it doesn't make sense to him, not without proof, or time, or anything to support your case. he'd get it eventually, he'd stop spending nights awake convinced you'll leave him when you sleep peacefully beside him with no intention of going.

sanguinius: his foresight is a burden, knowing what will happen to him means his guards are up. he would always be devoted, and he would carry the burden of fate to know he had shown you love in a way that mattered. but the sleepless nights would come, knowing the heartbreak would follow. especially at first, he'd try so hard, he'd want to protect others, you, from the fallout of fate. he'd never wanted you to see him in a way as more than a guardian, protector even, but it was inevitable. especially being who he is. and he would keep it to himself, and it would eat him up inside. he'd want to give you an easier way out, a ending where his death was the lesser of two evils, but he could never bring himself to leave. not before fate forced his hand.

ferrus: he has to make you better. you though fulgrim was obsessed with perfection? imagine that, but reversed, and intensified by a thousand. ferrus can make you better. he can make you stronger, he can make you everything you ever wanted. and over time, as he improves you, makes you need to know that he's impressed with you, it changes you. he's unrelenting. and it's not that he doesn't love you. oh, he loves you so so much. but there's a part of him that thinks his encouragement, his desire for your perfection, it helps you. together you can be the perfect couple, but not because of beauty or looks. then it feels like you're a project to him, little more than a toy for him to work on each and every day. and he'd let you go. he'd give you the choice, be free of him, but you'd hesitate. could you ever really be without him again?

angron: he only knows war. pain. death. love is so... small to him. he doesn't understand how to be gentle, how to replicate the love some of his brothers will. but he doesn't want to hurt you, either. and it shows. he will not hurt you, he will not make you feel pain, but he would die for you. and would you die for him? well. if you wouldn't, he would make you. love for him is a reflection of the strongest emotions he feels. the words he associates with it are different. violence. he'd kill anyone who stood between you. desperation. it's a feeling he can't describe as anything other than need. consuming. it grinds on him, wears him down, until he treats it the exact same way as everything else he feels. you're his, and you will become a part of him, whether you want to or not.

rob: it should be easy to him, but its not, and that makes him feel worse. he's not stupid, he can process love and emotion. yet... why does it feel so hard? he always feels like he is doing something wrong, always expression too little in case he reveals too much, whilst always trying to make up for something he fumbled already. its a vicious cycle. the reality of the situation is he's torn in every direction, he's needed by so many people, that he doesn't have time for love. yet he would fight to the very end of time to show it to you. and it exhausts him to no end. he'd just need a little patience, he'd very much enjoy if instead of something require brain or body power, he could just rest with you in his arms, enjoy the peace, but when that's every single evening, it could become a little hard

morty: he carries around a lot of anger and it's not always easy to hide. like a bitter old woman who sneers at kids for stepping on her lawn, but deep down she has a heart bigger than anyone - she just doesn't like it when he things are messed up. probably a bad analogy. the smallest things annoy him and he's got a quick temper. he constantly has to remind himself to check his own feelings, assess if he's reacting appropriately, then actually respond. so sometimes, it can feel artificial, like it's a brave face he puts on, and eventually you'll just want to know the real him. and you can, but it may not be as easily heard or understood. with time he would get better, he'd balance his emotions with your help, but until then it may never feel 100% real.

magnus: the poor guy, he just doesn't think (how obvious, I know). his actions are well intended but the way he comes across is a mixed bag. you're proud of something you've done or learned and in the spirit of sharing your achievement he does it in one try... or he tells you a more advance version of a spell with the intention of helping you but... it just comes across as him belittling you. like you were never good enough for him, that he is so so much better than you and his standard is so far above you. in reality, he's just happy, he's sharing those things because he thinks it will help you. he's worried that he's not good enough for you. he feels like he has to prove himself, to show you just everything he's capable of, elevate the two of you, together. aww :(

horus: he knows about his charisma. like a beacon that sits on his head and forces everyone to like him. and that makes him question the reality of everyone around him. are you nice to him because he's Horus, or because you want to be nice to him? are you kissing him because he's Horus, or because you want to kiss him? it's a guessing game that he is losing. he truly believes that those closest to him do not care, and overtime he has developed trust issues beyond saving. he'd never show it though, but inside everything can feel like a lie. he'd have a way to work it out though - he's not stupid - but his way is long and extended, tests and games which may not be appreciated, and it may feel like you need to prove to him why you care about him. was your love not enough? it was. but he just needed to know it wasn't manufactured by that damn beacon.

lorgar: love... its something different for him. it's not love. it's reverence. you become everything to him, his faith, his truth, his gospel. you become divine to him in every way, perfection incarnate, holy as the gods around him. and for that reason, it is all written in fate for him. you are meant to be with him, you are meant to stand by his side. he would build temples in your name, he would burn planets to the ground if it meant you were happy. he would destroy worlds to bring you what you wanted. but, if you are unhappy with that? if you do not accept his love and devotion? that's heresy. that's denying the truth. and escaping him, it can only come through death. his one is quite dark, i'm very sorry about that. unless you like it, then happy to help.

vulkan: he wouldn't have many faults, aside from obvious primarch things, but I think he's full of worry. not insecurity, but concern, always worried about you, always thinking he may hurt you, worried that the feats he puts himself through may have an unnecessary effect on you. he knows that he puts himself in danger but he can't stop himself, he know your concern that maybe just one time, he won't come back - but he will still test the limits anyway. he'd never show you every part of him, afraid it may just be too much for you, and though he's never hiding anything sinister, he'd always be hiding something. and you know it. and he'd smile, assuring you its nothing. it's literally just something like he's never tried kissing you in a certain way in case he hurts you. or he was wounded fatally again but he's okay. probably better if he just tells you... but secrets in the name of happiness, I guess.

corax: sometimes he goes, for days. for weeks, months even. some may even question whether you've just made it up in your own head. it's not that he doesn't care, or he doesn't love you, but... he got lost in his own head. what he needed to do. and it doesn't help that when you are together, he's cold, he's reserved, and its like you've never even met before sometimes. he can handle all of this, he's secure in his feelings and is loyal to you beyond anyone else, but can you? it's not that he would abandon you, or betray you, but when you've waited for him to come him for months and there's still no sign of him, your thoughts may start to go somewhere less pleasant. you can ask him to stop, but it's never permanent, even when he's fully opened to you emotionally - he'd unintentionally fill you with doubt.

alpharius: oh its a bit of a mindfuck. one loves you, one doesn't. one whispers sweetly in your ear, one just whispers. one touches your shoulder and catches the tips of his fingers on the curve of your neck, the other one just touches your shoulder. it's little things. barely noticeable at first. something the everyday person would have just shrugged off. but after time, you do notice. that's not Alpharius. and it makes you mad. to think he sent someone else in his place? he had to, and you'd never understand, but he hates it as much as you. do you know how badly he wants it to be him that is with you each day? how insulting it is to know that he was sharing you? it drives him to the brink of insanity. it's truly the worst feeling in the world. but there's nothing you can do about it, and you'll have to live with knowing that maybe the man next to you isn't the alpharius you love.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

[solaquintette]

A Feminist Reading of Junko Touhou

The following is a slightly reworked thread I posted to the Everything App last year, using Euripides' Medea as a device to explore how Junko Touhou (from Touhou) subverts our expectations of stories of women seeking revenge.

One of the reasons I adore Junko and why her story features so heavily in my art is because of how she subverts the typical portrayal of female rage and revenge in literature and media. I often see her as Euripides' Medea-if-she-was-fucking-awesome. Traditionally, 'female rage' is depicted as something rooted in romantic betrayal, often directed at a man who has been unfaithful, with his mistress also falling victim to the scorned woman's wrath. While feeling anger over infidelity is obviously valid, literature often acts as though this is the most intense pain a woman can feel, as though it is the only justifiable reason for her to unleash her rage and seek revenge. Even when it comes to the loss of a child, stories frequently assign the role of avenger to the father, while the mother is left to express her grief in a quiet, restrained manner, expected to endure rather than act.

Junko completely rejects that mold. While her grudge is initially directed at Hou Yi, a man, it has nothing to do with romance, infidelity, or rejection (at least in Touhou canon; her mythological origins vary). She isn't heartbroken over love; she is a mother whose child was taken from her, and she is out for revenge, pure and simple. And once Hou Yi is out of the picture, her rage turns to Chang'e, not because of a petty rivalry, not because of beauty, not because of a man, but because she needs to avenge her son at any cost. There is no underlying romantic narrative, no love triangle, no traditional "woman scorned" trope. Her rage is unfiltered and all-consuming.

What makes Junko's depiction even more striking is that her grief and rage are not presented in a way that is easy to digest. They are not subtle, delicate, or aesthetically pleasing. They are messy, relentless, and brutal. Even her danmaku lacks beauty. It reflects the rawness of her pain, an expression of fury that refuses to be softened or romanticised. Junko does not conform to the palatable, almost sanitised versions of female vengeance often depicted in media, where anger is neatly packaged into clever manipulation or quiet suffering. Instead, she embodies something far more visceral and real.

There is something deeply relatable about Junko’s need for revenge, particularly for anyone who has ever experienced loss or injustice. Her rage seems directionless to those who haven't felt that kind of grief. After all, Chang’e didn’t personally kill her son. And yet, if you’ve ever suffered a wrong so profound that the thought of seeing the perpetrator go unpunished feels unbearable, Junko’s quest makes perfect sense. Justice is not always attainable, and the idea of having to simply accept that reality is its own kind of hell. Junko exhausted every possible avenue for vengeance, and ultimately, her pursuit is futile. The one person who remains as a final target for her rage cannot even be killed. And even if she could kill Chang’e, it would never bring her son back. Her story is a bleak but brutally honest portrayal of grief: there is no true resolution, no catharsis, just the endless, aching persistence of loss.

Her identity is almost entirely consumed by this loss. The idea of grief shaping or even erasing identity is something worth exploring on its own, but in Junko’s case, it is clear that she has stripped herself down to nothing but vengeance. In many ancient cultures, particularly in antiquity, a woman’s identity was intrinsically tied to her role as a mother. When Junko lost her son, she lost not only him but also the identity that had previously defined her. And yet, instead of fading into obscurity or assuming a different role, she reconstructed herself around her grief and her fury, becoming something entirely new, something purely vengeful, purely wrathful.

This is where the connection to Medea feels so strong. One of the reasons Medea is often regarded as a ‘feminist’ work is that she does not meet the expected tragic end for a woman who enacts revenge. She does not get sent to hell, does not beg for forgiveness, she isn't put back in her place by her husband. Instead, she ascends, outwitting Jason and becoming something greater in the process. In much the same way, Junko’s rage does not destroy her. It transforms her. Her purification and ascension into a divine spirit mirror Medea’s ascension. Her wrath does not lead to her downfall, it's the very thing that elevates her. That is such a subversive and powerful way to depict a woman’s quest for revenge.

Sometimes I feel guilty for always drawing Junko suffering, but there is so much depth and untapped potential in her character. Her story is so much more than finding a neat resolution to grief or a moral lesson about the perils of holding a grudge. i love you Junko touhou ❤️❤️❤️

[catboydreamer]

friendships to games to lovers

Scaramouche x reader, childhood friends (reluctant) to lovers :)

you two grew up in the same neighborhood as kids, and eventually ended up hanging out (if you could call it that)

you pestering him constantly until he finally gives in with a grumble. 

eventually he starts seeking you out too, making up ridiculous lies that you see right through but pretend to be oblivious about. all because you know he’ll back down if you call it out, and you refuse to see that happen. 

you had moved homes when you were 15 years old but what are the odds you’d attend the same college as him?! 

actually, it was a local community college in his (and previously yours) hometown.

when he sees you he tries to keep up with his snarky comments but you can see a glimmer of emotion just boiling over the edge

he’s a shit talker but a really good gift giver. he can’t help shoving his homemade lunch towards you, muttering quietly, “if you’re anything like before, you forgot to pack a lunch. and im not having you eat the shitty food in here.” 

he’s grown taller now, too. something you thought wasn’t possible out of him. he didn’t tower over you or anything like that but it was enough to give him an edge. 

as you rekindle a relationship, whatever it is, he uses his height a lot. he’s almost cocky about it; reaching above you to grab a book you needed, often leaning too far into your space. or even on more than one occasion, reaching into the cupboard to grab a mug from the highest shelf when he knows you’re leaning against the counter, right in front of it. and if you question it, he shrugs, “hm. cant say I’ve noticed it.”

he’s messing with you intentionally. he watches your reactions like a hawk, intensity flickering over his eyes.

deep down he just wants you to like him as much as he likes you but he wants to see you squirm a little bit too. 

it’s just the type of man he is, to tease you before letting you know exactly what’s going through his head. 

well, he has no intentions of being truthful actually, just dancing around the past and the present. 

he wants the transition to be painfully slow until you find yourself captured by his presence as if it’s always been there.

though, it’s you, so that doesn’t really happen. plus, he finds himself lost on you, frustrated when gestures don’t /seem/ to affect you that much.

in reality, you’ve gotten good at hiding emotions. your fear of being someone to play with rises up. 

it all comes to a head one autumn evening. 

he invited you over for dinner one evening, with all the usual antics.

he’s pulling a flirtatious gaze while mocking you in the same sentence. 

maybe something set you off that day or the tension just grew to be too much. after all, you were never known for your patience. 

the two of you were in the middle of eating dinner but the exact meal was lost on you. you didn’t care what it was. your skin felt red hot. 

one final stupid comment with a sly smile made you break in half. 

“you know what? im so over your stupid games, kunikuzushi.”

his eyes widen for a moment before a look of clarity falls into his gaze, “what are you talking about-“

you cut him off cleanly, “no. you know exactly what’s going through im talking about. I’m not gonna play your games anymore. you can properly ‘fess up to your feelings or this is it.”

his blood runs cold; he’s deathly pale more than usual. there’s an unusual fear in his eyes as his head drops so you can’t see his full reign of emotions as he speaks. all you want to do is lift his chin with the tip of your finger tips so he can’t escape you but you leave such a bold move for another occasion. 

his words are quick to the point, “I only wanted to know if you… l-loved me back,” his voice is full of cracks.

a smooth blush blossoms over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. he’s more than unready to truly speak of it all. 

slowly his gaze lifts up to meet yours; a soft twinkle in your eyes and a warming smile pulling at your lips. 

“you’re so stupid. I’ve always loved you.”

his heart jumps to his throat and he’s frozen in position. 

“c’mere,” and you motion to your lap. 

he huffs, turning his head to the side. your eyes bore into him, not intending on taking no for an answer. 

he gives in after a few beats of silence. he sludges over to you, clumsily climbing into your lap. he’s technically bigger than you now but still slender enough that it’s not too much. 

he’s shaking like a leaf. you don’t comment on it and especially not on how his entire body slowly relaxes completely at your touch and you trace small circles over his shoulder blades. your other hand grips his hand into yours. 

you’ll be damned if you don’t give him more than enough physical affection even if he acts like he doesn’t need it. 

you smile up at him. he has melted completely under your touch but you don’t dare to speak it. 

his eyes dart away from your gaze as the phrase comes out in a quiet yet clear mumble, “I really do love you.”

you give his hand a firm squeeze, I know you do. 

[everythingseasoning]

Curses and Lifts.

Rafayel x Reader. // angst, fluff. abandonment issues, relief.

Rafayel has just finished telling you the story about his “friend” who’d gotten himself stranded on the surface, 800 or so years ago. Surviving only because of a woman who noticed and cared, his friend went on to live, saved in the same way you rescued that fish a minute ago. But Rafayel called it a tragedy.

“Because he fell in love with the girl who saved him?” You ask him. The night surrounds the two of you, a smooth midnight blue. It’s like the two of you are underneath the deep ocean itself, the air cool against your skin.

“Love?” Rafayel asks, confusion flitting across his face as he stares at the ground. It’s as if he’s taken aback slightly by the word.

Rafayel’s gaze suddenly locks onto your face, his violet eyes glimmering like stars in the lamplight.

“…Yeah,” he says, the weight of his gaze pulling you in like the tide. He looks at you like you’re his world, like he needs you, like you’re the oyster and he’s the pearl seeking refuge. It’s tinged with hurt.

Rafayel turns back to focus on the fountain in front of him, a thoughtful expression creased onto his features. “Love,” he repeats, the word solid as it leaves his mouth.

“Now do you see how dangerous the world can be?”

It’s suddenly silent. Rafayel has entered his mind space again. He’s lost in thought as you study him in all his quiet, the urge to know what he’s thinking growing stronger by the second.

Love is the most twisted curse of all. Be careful who you save. You might end up cursing them with tragedy instead.

Your soft, “Hey,” brings Rafayel out from his thoughts. His eyes have always been so expressive.

“What’s wrong?” You ask gently, your smaller hand reaching out to touch Rafayel’s cold one. He jumps slightly before looking wide-eyed at where your skin touches his.

His hand moves on top of yours in a flash, his grip surprisingly firm as his face closes the distance between you two.

“You can’t leave me again, okay?” Desperation and insistence lace his words.

“Promise me— promise me you’ll never disappear again,” Rafayel breathes, his violet eyes boring into yours. You blink rapidly.

“Rafayel— You…” you start, before swallowing. “That wasn’t really your friend in the story, was it?” You ask, believing now that he had woven fiction into his personal anecdote, making it up that his friend was a merman, that it was centuries ago. He had probably been left by a woman he took great interest in, instead. Your heart aches for him. You always knew he hadn’t been loved properly in his life; The signs were there. His clinginess, his immaturity, his urge to be cared for— they had all made it clear.

Rafayel ignores your question, imploring you again.

“Promise me.”

Your other hand moves to clasp his, both of your hands cupping Rafayel’s now. You swear you saw tears glimmering for a quick, fleeting moment.

“I promise, Rafayel,” you say, your gaze firm and gentle all at once.

Something passes in Rafayel’s eyes. You can’t name it yet. You can’t study it either— Rafayel has engulfed you in a hug before you can blink, taut muscle and warmth pressing against you.

“Good. Thank you,” he whispers before his voice comes back strong, “Don’t ever leave me.” Rafayel’s breath is soft against your ear, the little tickle contrasting the hard desperation in his voice. His arms squeeze you tighter. Tears spring to your eyes. Rafayel… you must have been through so much.

“You’ll never be alone again, Rafayel.” You breathe the promise into the night air.

You feel a sudden pressure against your jawline—

The warmth pulls away slightly. Rafayel stares into your eyes, your faces inches away, his strong arms still wrapped around you. The proximity makes your heart race, and you’re sure he can feel it too. His breath is hot, the sounds of breathing drowning out the nearby bubbling of the water fountain. As Rafayel gazes into your eyes, you realize he had kissed your neck.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, and he’s looking at you like he needs more— needs to be closer— needs to have you, needs to know you’re his, not just by words.

You respond in kind, cupping his face gently, pressing your thumb into his cheek, tenderly swiping his skin. He nuzzles into your touch, pressing another soft kiss onto your hand.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Rafayel looks at you, leaning forward more as his hands find your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. He stares down at you, murmuring into the small space between you two.

“You were the one who cursed me in the first place. It’s only fair that you lift it.”

…

To be continued?

…AN below:

my heart, I’m so sorry

You were just an unloved soul who didn’t know what love was until you were unexpectedly rescued, then abandoned.

No wonder you’re so fucking clingy and immature. No wonder you need constant communication. You never once tasted a stable love. Rafayel, you are so afraid of being left alone forever again. (I will never abandon him.)

[lobotomiesatclaires]

Lighter Kink and Psychology Analysis - Zenless Zone Zero

Full disclaimer: I don’t play Zenless Zone Zero, but through my friend’s love of the game and Tumblr osmosis, I’ve learned a great deal about Lighter. I find the differences between his canon and fanon interpretations fascinating, so I thought it would be interesting to break down the psychology of kinks and what I think Lighter’s are. I’m going to focus on the ones I believe he has, and if people want me to go into further detail, let me know! Also if it was clear from the title 18+ content below

Exhibitionism – Subcategories: Semi-Public Sex, Secret Keeping, and Risk Play

Lighter is fascinating because he’s full of contradictions. He doesn’t like having his picture taken and prefers to keep a low profile, yet he wears flashy clothes and takes on high profile work where he cannot NOT be noticed. He wants to be left alone but craves connection with people. Part of this can be attributed to losing so many important people due to his own actions, but I think another part of it is Lighter’s hopeless romantic streak. He wants to die for love, and I think part of that is tied to finding someone worthy of that sacrifice.

He’s not interested in people who praise him or send him gifts because, to him, they don’t truly know him—and if they did, they wouldn’t want anything to do with him, he thinks. This low self-esteem and disorganized attachment style create a loop where he desperately craves connection, has opportunities for it, but never fully lets his walls down to allow a deeper bond. Because of his past and the fear of never being truly understood, Lighter communicates in subtle ways. In-game, he can give the player purple lilacs. In the language of flowers, purple lilacs symbolize one’s first love or the first time one feels love for someone. However he leaves on a job right after, to stop any possibility of asking him more about why he gave them to you.

When it comes to sex, Lighter has experience, but in romantic love, he’s very much a virgin, in my opinion.

In line with this, I think Lighter would be needy as a partner, in constant need of validation but unable to ask for reassurance. He hates when his friends are mad at him—it distresses him significantly, which reinforces my earlier points about his emotional sensitivity. Thus, I think one of his core needs would be for a partner to be very possessive of him. Not only would this push back against his feelings of guilt, but it would bulldoze past his tendency to panic at intimacy and distance himself.

While I agree he’d be into risk/thrill-seeking, I don’t think it would be extreme or involve pain. I believe it would be a form of intimate thrill-seeking—the kind that engages an overactive mind.

Imagine:Lighter and his partner in an elevator, on the way to a party. Four seconds before the elevator reaches the destination, his partner pushes him against the wall, kisses him, and whispers in his ear that they’re not wearing anything under their dress coat. The doors open, and they walk out into the party crowd—no one the wiser. Except Lighter.

For example: They’re at the party. Lighter’s charming, slipping easily into conversations with strangers. But every so often, his partner brushes their fingers lightly over the back of his neck—just once, fleeting. No one notices, but Lighter does. His spine straightens slightly each time, a silent acknowledgment: I know who I belong to.

Or: Club sex on the top floor behind a loud rock band. The balcony overlooking a busy street. Going to dinner with friends with a remote in his hand and a small vibrator in his partner’s underwear.

I think Lighter would enjoy all of these scenarios—not just for the risk, but for the inherent trust required to play and keep these secrets between him and his partner. It’s something completely his, something no one else can encroach upon, yet it’s right there, obvious to anyone observant enough to notice.

Marking – Physical and Psychological

Marking, both physical and psychological, would lean into Lighter’s desire for connection. Think: visible signs of his partner’s presence—like a hickey or a faint lipstick smudge on his collarbone.

While traditional marking overlaps with the possessiveness I imagine he’d enjoy, psychological marking might be even more appealing to him. This could involve embedding someone’s presence in his mind through habits, sensory triggers, or routines.

Lighter’s fear of being forgotten or unimportant could be countered by the constant reassurance that he’s always present in his partner’s thoughts. Non-sexually, his partner might leave voice notes for him to listen to during missions or spritz their perfume on his scarf. They might even snap a risky picture and set it as his lock screen so the next time he checks his phone on the job he’s left with a surprise.

Lighter is haunted by the dead, but I think what he truly craves is being haunted by someone living. He would adore his partner’s presence lingering in his personal space, feeding his need for connection without direct confrontation.

Domination – Receiving, Direction Taking

I firmly believe Lighter likes to be dominated. In terms of desire, I don’t think Lighter experiences much spontaneous desire; rather, he’s more connected to responsive desire (see the paper “Sexual Arousal and Desire: Interrelations and Responses to Three Modalities of Sexual Stimuli” by Katherine Goldey and Sari Anders). That man is too tired to be dominant, and as seen in-game, he prefers to take orders. He would definitely call his partner “Boss” in the bedroom.

Beyond the bedroom, I feel Lighter would continue this relinquishment of power through authority transfer dynamics as a coping mechanism for emotional instability, much like he does for the Sons of Calydon. This could manifest in routines or rituals where his partner makes decisions for him, offering a sense of control without the burden of autonomy. It’s both a reaffirmation of care and a release from the pressure of decision-making.

Given his tendency to overthink, delegating power outside of sex could ease his mental load and reinforce security in his relationships. I think Lighter would enjoy having his partner pick out his clothes, jewelry, ect, decide small daily routines, or even manage his finances in a consensual dynamic. This creates a structure where emotional care is embedded in everyday life, not just during intimacy.

Additionally, given Lighter’s need for emotional grounding and his craving to feel “claimed,” collaring—whether in a literal BDSM context or as an everyday symbolic gesture—would be something he could secretly obsess over. If Lighter were given a necklace, choker, or even a collar (especially since he loves jewelry), he’d never take it off. He’d wear it under his clothes, hidden from everyone else but always present. On rough days or when away from his partner, just feeling it against his skin would serve as silent reassurance, grounding him.

It would satisfy both his exhibitionist streak (a hidden “secret” between him and his partner) and act as a reminder: I’m not lost. I belong somewhere. To someone.

For example: if before a mission his partner was to kiss him goodbye, place a necklace around his neck and say “Come back wearing this” he would tug at the small chain subconsciously the entire time he’s gone. He would sleep with it on, shower with it, and when he returned, the metal would be warm and oxidised from his skin, his skin stained from the metal.

Praise Play

An extension of his need for domination and grounding, I see praise play as a huge turn-on for Lighter. While some believe degradation is one of his kinks, I think it’s the opposite. While he might engage in degradation play if his partner wanted it (and part of him might believe he deserves it due to his low self-esteem), I think he would emotionally shut down if it became a consistent dynamic. To me it would be a similar dynamic to the start of the Astarion romance, fulfilling a role as a tool rather than as a person.

Kinks often reflect core emotional needs. Non-consensual fantasies, for example, are about being desired so intensely that someone is willing to break laws and social norms. Degradation kinks often involve a need for others to see the worst parts of us and want us regardless. However, for sensitive individuals, this negative reinforcement doesn’t bring solace—it simply reaffirms their worst fears and destroys their fragile attempts at building a better self image. I also don't think Lighter would find any attraction in demeaning his partner, I think he would feel unworthy of their attention and trust, especially in the beginning.

Lighter is consistently wracked with guilt and desperately wants to know whether he’s doing the right thing, whether it’s in his job or in a relationship. For someone like Lighter, praise isn’t just arousing—it’s reparative in a way nothing else matches. Each compliment is a stone in the foundation of a self-worth he can’t build alone. When his partner says, “You’re doing so well,” or “You feel like home, like safety,” it’s not just about sex. It’s about rewriting the narrative he’s been telling himself for years.

Domestic Play

You cannot convince me that the image of Lighter’s partner cooking or doing general domestic chores wouldn’t awaken something deep within him, even though he might not admit it at first. In-game, he respects and surrounds himself with women who embody dominant, traditionally masculine qualities. He’s more than happy to take orders from them, but in terms of romantic or sexual attraction, he seems to have little interest in those traits. I suspect this is because these qualities mirror his old self, and that’s not something he finds much solace in, either romantically or sexually.

I think Lighter would be attracted to someone fundamentally different from those around him—someone softer and more considerate, yet still strong in a more traditionally feminine sense. Given his history of loss, trauma, and the absence of a stable family, I believe he harbors a profound urge for a family-like relationship. His partner would create an environment that feels like home, a concept Lighter likely yearns for but doesn’t fully understand.

Home-cooked meals, small domestic gestures of affection—these would make him unbearably needy, though he’d only show it when alone with his partner.

For example: During mundane moments—making coffee, fixing his jacket—his partner casually murmurs, “You belong to me.” It’s subtle, not always sexual, but it lights up the part of Lighter’s brain that craves validation without having to ask for it.

Things like his partner knowing how he likes his coffee without needing to ask, or grabbing the salt shaker from him because it’s bad for his cholesterol would make him unbearably turned on you cannot convince me otherwise. These small acts of care would hit him hard, far more than overt declarations of love.

For Lighter, being told what to do isn’t about submission—it’s about relief. In a life where his choices have often led to heartbreak, the absence of choice feels like safety.

Sensation Play – Both Sensory Deprivation and Service

Lighter is an overthinker. According to Emily Nagoski’s Come As You Are, overthinking is one of the primary reasons people struggle to achieve climax or engage fully with emotional and sexual vulnerability. When you place too much pressure on external factors—self-image, internal worries, even things as small as ‘the dishes need to be done’—it inhibits your ability to ground yourself in the present and truly experience pleasure. This is why many people, particularly women, struggle with partnered sex and climax.

For Lighter, orgasm denial or delayed gratification would likely be a huge turn-on, especially in situations where he’s restrained or unable to interact directly with his partner—think handcuffs or shibari. The removal of senses, such as blindfolding, helps heighten arousal by redirecting the energy normally spent on processing visual stimuli toward pure sensation. It doesn’t stop the overthinking; it realigns it, forcing it to focus on the present moment.

For example: His partner lightly places a hand over his mouth while he’s blindfolded—not fully cutting off air, but creating a soft restraint. It’s not about danger; it’s about trust. The lack of visual and verbal control pushes him into a space where he can’t overanalyze—he can only feel.

Considering Lighter’s past—especially his time in the fighting pits, where he described himself as feeling like a zombie—I don’t think he’d enjoy pain or impact play. His physical existence outside the bedroom has already been filled with similar kinds of suffering. Instead, sensation play becomes a refuge—a way to experience his body without violence, without pain. There's a running joke that he fears the sight of blood in game, which is another reason why I believe centering pleasure rather than pain would be more attractive to him.

Emotional Edgeplay

I believe Lighter craves not just physical intensity but emotional vulnerability pushed to its limits—scenarios where trust is tested, intimacy feels dangerous, and attachment triggers are explored in consensual, negotiated ways. Emotional edgeplay isn’t about causing harm; it’s about walking the razor-thin edge of emotional exposure, where the potential for catharsis is as powerful as the risk.

Overstimulation is an aspect of emotional edgeplay, often resulting in emotional release—like crying during or after sex—as the body lets go of trauma it’s been holding onto for too long. Lighter, who is profoundly dissociated from his needs due to guilt and a deep-seated dismissal of his own worth, would find this both terrifying and necessary.

We see hints of this in-game. For example, there’s an interaction with a guide dog—trained to seek out the most vulnerable person in the room—that ignores everyone else and goes straight to Lighter. This detail speaks volumes about how disconnected he is from his own emotional fragility; the desensitization runs so deep that he doesn’t even recognize it anymore.

In these moments, speech and affirmation would be crucial, especially during heightened emotional states or low points.

For example: During edging, when he’s trembling with frustration—not just sexually, but emotionally—his partner gently cradles his face and whispers, “Do you see how wonderful you are when you’re not pretending?”

It’s not just arousing—it’s disarming. Because in that vulnerable space, Lighter isn’t the cool, edgy pit fighter turned bodyguard. He’s just him, stripped of all pretense. No walls, no bravado. Flaws and all. It also provides acceptance by omission, that his partner sees all and accepts all.

Caretaker Dynamics (Reversed Aftercare)

I also believe Lighter would prefer to be the primary aftercare provider, despite this traditionally being the role of the dominant partner. According to Dominatrix Eva Oh, aftercare is a service role, and for Lighter, providing that service would be deeply fulfilling. (It’s a common misconception the Sub role in BDSM is the harder or serving role, because truly Dom’s are required to be very emotionally stable, beholden to their sub and can turn out to be a very stress inducing role for the wrong people). This is why high flying jobs such as CEO’s actually prefer to be submissive because it is the only place in their life they get to be minded.

While aftercare is essential after most sexual interactions—especially those involving intense scenes—reversed caretaker dynamics, where the more emotionally fragile partner provides aftercare, would align perfectly with Lighter’s psychology. Despite his vulnerabilities, he has an overwhelming desire to feel needed, to prove his worth in relationships even when he feels broken.

Being allowed to “take care” of his partner post-sex, even when he’s emotionally raw, satisfies this need. It’s not about dominance or submission—it’s about anchoring himself through acts of care.

For example: After an intense session, when his partner is spent and emotionally vulnerable, Lighter insists on making tea, carefully bandaging small marks, or physically holding them—even if he’s the one shaking. He tucks the blanket around them, brushes sweat-damp hair from their forehead, and whispers, “I’ve got you.”

In those moments, his value isn’t measured by strength or stoicism. This role reversal reinforces his sense of purpose without undermining his vulnerabilities. He doesn't always have to be the strong one here, in this moment.

Closing Thoughts

Ultimately, Lighter’s kinks aren’t just about physical pleasure—they’re reflections of his deepest fears, needs, and desires. They’re coping mechanisms woven into intimacy, helping him navigate a world where connection feels both a gift and a threat. Whether through domination, praise, or emotional edgeplay, his kinks allow him to confront the parts of himself he hides from the world.

At the heart of it all, Lighter wants to be known.

References

Disclaimer I have dyslexia and English is my second language so I apologize for mistakes.

Theswaddle.com. (2019). The Psychology of Sexual Kink. [online] Available at: https://www.theswaddle.com/what-is-kink-the-psychology-behind-sexual-behavior [Accessed 9 Feb. 2025].

admin@blossmcart (2023). A dive into the definition of Lilac Flower and its Significance. [online] Blossmcart Flowers. Available at: https://blossmcart.com/blog/definition-and-significance-of-lilac-flower/#:~:text=The%20Lilac%20is%20a%20flower,purple%20Lilac%20signifies%20first%20love. 

‌Li, S. (2024). The Psychology of Kink: A Cross‐Sectional Survey Investigating the Association Between Adult Attachment Style and BDSM-Related Identity Choice in China. Archives of Sexual Behavior, [online] 53(6), pp.2269–2276. doi:https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-024-02829-1.

When Kinks Come to Life: An Exploration of Paraphilic Behaviors and Underlying Predictors. (2024). The Journal of Sex Research. [online] doi:https://doi.org/10.1080//00224499.2024.2319242.

The Kink Orientation Scale: Developing and Validating a Measure of Kink Desire, Practice, and Identity. (2024). The Journal of Sex Research. [online] doi:https://doi.org/10.1080//00224499.2024.2387769.‌

Oh, E. (2020). I Was a Corporate Slave Until I Became a Professional Dominatrix. [online] VICE. Available at: https://www.vice.com/en/article/eva-oh-dominatrix-sex-kink/ [Accessed 9 Feb. 2025].

Youtube.com. (2025). Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_Ng_b28uxM [Accessed 9 Feb. 2025].

‌Youtube.com. (2025). Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2_aCw-DMq0 [Accessed 9 Feb. 2025].

‌

[hederasgarden]

Do you have any darker thoughts about your fav ATJ characters?

Bestie, I have so many thoughts, and I’m totally blaming @otaku-girl-ao3 for this. A few weeks ago, we spent an afternoon on Discord brainstorming what the ATJ characters would be like as dark versions of themselves and how that would manifest in distinct and interesting ways.

Just a quick note—this is quite a departure from the usual content on my blog and the type of things I typically write about. Recently, I’ve been gathering the courage to explore some darker themes in my writing (I blame BookTok for introducing me to a lot of questionable tropes). Please be kind and let me know if you’d like to see more of this kind of writing from me!

Characters: Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter), Friedrich Harding (Nosferatu), Tangerine (Bullet Train), and Ives (Tenet) Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Dead dove, do not eat. VERY dark, depraved, and horny thoughts direct from me to you. Not all themes are tagged. Read at your own risk.  Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist

Sergei is a meticulous planner, taking his time to observe you and learn your habits. He likely comes across you by chance—perhaps while on the job or visiting his brother. It’s your scent that first grabs his attention, but it’s not what draws him back. It’s the softness and sweetness in your demeanor, the vulnerability you exude, completely unaware of the dangers around you. You’re the easiest prey he’s ever tracked, unaware even of the most basic threats. You’re always buried in a book or your phone, headphones on at full blast. If it weren’t for his quiet intervention, you would have been robbed or worse on your way home at least twice. 

He takes you because he believes you're not meant to be on your own. You need someone to care for you, to protect you from the world that you don’t fully understand. Really, it’s lucky your paths crossed. He’s certain you’ll come to see things his way in time. Until then, he’s turned his home into a beautiful little cage for you to live in, complete with an entire library filled with your favorite books, cozy blankets to keep you warm, and all the ingredients for the meals you love to cook and enjoy. He’s done his research on what you like and he’ll bring you anything you ask for. Afterall, he’s a provider at heart.

There’s no concern of you running away. You've seen the large snow leopard that prowls around outside, and the one time you made a foolish attempt to escape, Sergei was quick to show you that he wouldn't always be so gentle or understanding. As @writercole suggested, once he has you back, he’ll also end up keeping you tethered by the ankle for a while, a lesson that if you try to run, he’ll leash you.

After you recover from that experience Sergei finds you’re a much better pet, settling into your new life and role. You start cooking for him when he's home, and willingly crawl into bed beside him, seeking out his warmth on those cold winter nights. Soon, Sergei knows you’ll be ready for the next step: starting a family of your own.

Friedrich (in a modern AU) strikes me as the type who would quietly manipulate situations to his advantage, working behind the scenes to ensure things unfold just how he wants. He’d spot you working at a cafe or store he frequently visits and, from that moment, start working on a plan to make you his.

Rather than using overt force, he’d rely on subtle pressure and gaslighting, making you doubt yourself and your choices. He’d skillfully set up circumstances to undermine you—ensuring you miss out on a job you desperately need, getting you fired, or putting you in a position where you have no choice but to turn to him. When you're at your lowest, he’ll swoop in as the savior, the one who appears to protect you. His goal is to make you dependent on him alone, carefully ensuring that when the time comes for him to make his move, you're in no position to resist. Consent would be questionable, but he'd remind you every time you hesitated that you said yes, that you asked for his help, and that you invited him in.

I can also see him isolating you from friends and family, slowly pulling you away from the support system you once had. He’d definitely be the type to love-bomb you, showering you with overwhelming attention and affection, using his money and influence to manipulate you further. 

He strikes me as a baby trapper, sabotaging your birth control or tampering with his condoms to ensure you get pregnant. He believes you'd be the perfect wife and mother—you just need his help to realize that. Once he has you, he’d be the most loving and attentive husband, always caring, but beneath that sweetness lies an unshakable belief that he knows what’s best. He’s the one who makes the decisions, subtly guiding everything with quiet confidence until, over time, the balance shifts in his favor and you start looking to him for help with even the easiest things. Despite all of this, Friedrich would likely still view himself as a good person, firmly rejecting any notion that he is abusive or in the wrong.

Tangerine is on the opposite end of the spectrum, much more inclined to use brute force and physical violence to make you understand your place. He has a short temper and struggles with impulse control, especially when you don't follow his demands. There’s no slow build-up with him—he has no time or patience for romance. The moment he sees you on the street, he decides you’re coming home with him, and that’s final. Or maybe Tangerine and Lemon are sent to kill your husband but when Tangerine sees just how sweet you are, completely unaware of who and what your husband really is, he decides to keep you for himself. After all, no one's going to miss you. They’ll assume you died in the house fire with your husband. 

Once he had you he would try and spoil you with a beautiful place to live, fine clothes and decadent food. He’d want you to look and dress a certain way for him. A darker version of him would fit the profile of a classic abuser—lashing out at you in anger, only to later show up with flowers and a hollow apology, turning the blame onto you as if you were the one who provoked it.

“Why do you have to make things so fuckin’ hard, huh?” Tangerine questions, caressing your bruised skin. “I hate when you make me do this to ya luv. You need to listen better.”

He’d definitely be the most terrifying of all the dark versions of the ATJ characters because of his unpredictability. (I do not know why but I have such a strong sense he’d pop you in the mouth/back hand you with those rings on and just….yeah.)

If Ives were to go dark, he’d likely abuse his power and authority in the workplace, targeting someone beneath him—someone who wasn’t military and who he could easily manipulate using his strength and knowledge. Maybe you’re his admin, someone he works closely with, and no one questions the fact that you’re often in his office with the door closed or staying late to finish tasks together. He’d be blunt about his intentions with you, setting clear expectations for how things would unfold. His actions would be predictable—if you were a good girl, you’d be rewarded; if you misbehaved, there would be consequences. Ives would be a steady, unyielding force, confident that, with time, you’d fall into line.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Arrow

@wolfstarmicrofic February 8, word count 688

“I told you not to open your stupid mouth!” Remus yelled at him as they tore through the forest. 

“How was I supposed to know they’d take it the wrong way?!” Sirius squawked as he narrowly avoided the arrow aimed directly at the back of his head. 

“Arrogant pureblood,” Remus darted sharply to the left and away from Sirius. 

“Oi, Moony, don’t leave me!” Sirius chased after him and almost slipped down the steep bank. A hand shot out from below him and dragged him down and into the safety of a huge sycamore's unearthed roots. 

He crouched close to Remus as Remus cast undetectable charms around them as the centaurs thundered overhead. 

“They must have doubled back,” one said. 

“Leave them, Feanor, they are not worth our time,” another answered. 

“And do you believe such insolence should go unpunished, Lorin?” Feanor rebutted, stomping his hooves impatiently against the hard ground. Sirius pressed back into Remus as grains of soil trickled between the roots above him. 

“They are young and foolish, Feanor; besides, I heard the wolf chastising his mate as they ran,” Lorin chuckled. “I feel nothing we can do to that young wizard will even be comparable to what the wolf has planned.”

“You may be correct,” Feanor conceded. “Let us return to the others and seek insight from the stars, they may let you know what path we should take.” The sound of hoofbeats faded away, and Sirius let out a shaky breath. He knew better than to rile up the centaurs, but that Feanor had rubbed him up the wrong way, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Remus,” He said quietly. “Next time there are centaurs, cast a silencing charm on me, please.”

“With pleasure.” Remus let his head flop back against roots and earth. 

They waited a while to make sure it was safe to move about the forest again. They headed back up to the castle and back up to their dormitory for hot showers and mugs of hot chocolate. 

“What do you think he meant by ‘mate’?” Sirius asked. He’d found it an odd way to refer to him. They’d called Remus a wolf, which meant they knew what he was, so why had they referred to Sirius as his mate? Remus had turned bright red and was trying to hide it from Sirius. 

“No idea,” Remus choked out, looking very uncomfortable. “Some weird centaur terminology. Head in the clouds, y’know.” Remus hurried ahead of him, leaving Sirius to ponder. Remus’s reaction had been just as odd as the centaur's words. 

It was as he passed a couple who thought they were being sneaky, making out in an alcove that he was hit with understanding. The centaurs thought he and Remus were together, and Remus’s red face and sudden departure was because the centaurs had picked up on how Remus felt. Sirius broke into a run. He needed to find Remus now and ask him point-blank if that’s what it all meant, as he couldn’t let the spark of hope deep inside him reignite if the centaurs had got it wrong. Please don’t let them be wrong. 

He caught up with Remus, and instead of asking him anything, he spun him around by his robes, stood on his tiptoes and kissed him. Remus’s lips were frozen beneath his, and he panicked, only for Remus to reach out and pull him into his body, kissing him back. The spark inside Sirius flared into life, filling his entire body with heat. 

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall barked behind them, and they pulled apart, smiling shyly at each other. The second she was gone, Remus pulled him into a nearby broom cupboard and, using the spells he’d used in the forest, kept anyone from interrupting them before Sirius was pushed into the back of the cupboard. Remus kissed him again, more fervently this time. The centaurs were right. He vowed never to piss them off again. Well, apart from Feanor, perhaps. He stopped thinking about the centaurs when Remus’s knee pushed his legs apart and moved his own leg into the space. 

[the-lighthouse-librarian]

Now, I'm sure someone's already thought of this but nontheless; what crossed my mind was the fact that Solas is used as a mirror to the Inquisitor figuratively as well as a literary device, and I thought of a new example.

He mirrors the Inquisitor's attitude and behaviour: he responds to kindness with kindness, to curiosity with enthusiasm, and if you decide to be an asshole, he'll respond in kind.

Hindsight gives us the mirroring of two reluctant leaders: two people who do not seek leadership but are forced to accept their roles and cast aside their identities. They become symbols of revolution and resistance. This mirror, however, shows two different outcomes, where one succeeds and the other does not. One relies on their allies and friends for help, and the other shoulders the blame amd responsibilities alone.

There's also another instance of mirroring which I don't think has been caught before, and that's between Inquisitor Lavellan and a romanced Solas and it becomes clear after finishing Veilguard: Solas is the king of the sunk-cost fallacy, but Lavellan is also fighting a losing battle.

Solas is void-bent on tearing down the Veil, because if he doesn't at least try, all the hurt and suffering he has caused and felt has been for naught. Lavellan, if she so chooses, will do everything in her power to stop and save him, because if she does not, all of the pain and love and searching of the last decade has been in vain. Solas stands alone in his quest of tearing down the Veil; Lavellan alone is convinced Solas can be redeemed (remember how everyone except Cole disapproves of the choice in Trespasser? How Morrigan jabs at her in Veilguard?) And just like Solas, Lavellan cannot achieve her goal of changing his mind. Not alone.

But Lavellan isn't alone, and again, the mirror shows us two different outcomes: because while Solas thinks he alone can achieve what must be done and fails, Lavellan is out there reaching out to everyone and their mum to get to him and succeeds.