#I have to imagine it wasn't made with intentionality

[unfairlyfallen]

What do you think original elias was like, apart from the small bits weve heard in canon?

My personal insight into him, is that he reads as a former momma's boy with serious commitment issues and a lack of personal drive.

I think he was probably very close with his mother in his youth, choosing to be coddled and nurtured, however surface level, by her, over dealing or spending time with his father.

I imagine him being a shy, but overall good kid, at least in his mother's eyes, for the majority of his childhood. His father would have been openly disappointed in him and seen him as timid and effeminate, but there's ultimately nothing Elias could have done to win his approval, Mr. Bouchard wasn't someone with the capacity for satisfaction or pride.

It would have probably been during Elias' last few years of secondary school when he began to notice that all of his peers had plans and aspirations, and he did not. His below average grades and tendency towards giving up on anything that wasn't a source of instant gratification, would likely result in an education that felt pointless. This is also about the time that I picture his mother beginning to distance herself from him, let down by what could be easily perceived as lazy and uninspired behavior. Effectively putting strain on Elias' only consistent source of affection and affirmation.

I can't see Elias as being truly *impressive* at anything, because a prominent skill would give him direction, which I'm nearly certain is something he never had. This aimlessness is further implied by the fact that he ended up at a prestigious university that he didn't get into in his own, in a focus I can guarantee he barely understood and didn't care about. But it would have been the one that appeased his parents and kept him from looking like a complete embarrassment to the family name. At least, on paper.

The Elias who graduated from university, burnt out and under a financial ultimatum, would have been well aware of his place in the world. Elias was "just a guy," someone who never seemed to be enough for anyone, and as a result, began to preemptively self sabotage and throw in the towel before his perception could ever be proven right.

I think that by the time Elias managed to get hired at the Magnus Institute, he just wanted to blend in and avoid being noticed. He would have been intentionally mediocre at his job because that was all that had ever been expected of him, and success would only mean harsher disappointment when he inevitably failed again.

As far as his personality goes, I personally assume that he was generally pleasant to be around, if a little bland and unoriginal, funny enough, if neither he nor anyone in his company were sober. A bit guarded and paranoid when it came to anything non-platonic, as he was cripplingly terrified that his family (particularly his father) would be made aware of his sexuality.

Over all, not a bad person, just boring and severely lacking in self esteem.

👁️👍👍

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[yan-randomfandom]

Wait! Can you do the Yanderes Saja boys x reader pls? Except the reader is aroace and isn’t a fan of Kpop

Saja Boys x GN!Reader

a/n; oh anon luckilyy i'm both of those things ☺️ BUT I'M SO SORRY since it's my first time writing them, i kinda lost the point n it turned to a character study MY BAD 😭😭 feel free to send a request again!

summary; the most common imagine for the Saja Boys right now—them finding a human manager. They find the human's company a little too enjoyable....

— 🥤 [not proofread]

During their debut, Soda Pop—the Saja Boys had a passive objective: find someone in the audience who wasn't even the slightest bit interested in them.

It was Mystery who noticed you first.

Among the crowd, you glanced at them like the rest. Paused and listened like the rest. However, unlike the rest, you pulled out your phone not to record—but to draw your attention, and eventually walk away.

Mystery memorized your face. After all, with how obsessed humans are with paperwork and management, they had to have someone deal with the annoyances just to make them seem like the real deal.

So, after their performance, your presence was mentioned. They ultimately deemed that you're the one who stayed the shortest.

Jinu approached you first.

But he was an absolute loser and couldn't keep his story straight (hundreds of years of human society blurred from his knowledge), leading the rest of the Saja boys impatient and embarrassed for him.

The next best thing they do?

Reveal themselves. Threaten you. It's either your soul goes, or your free will goes.

They're not exactly the smartest, for sure... that came from Jinu's thoughts.

Nevertheless, it worked. You work for them now.

When you first got into this mess, you thought you'd be scared for your life every single day.

"But now I'm stuck with attention-seeking, clingy, needy arrogant—"

A slim finger touches your lips in a silent gesture. You glare pointedly at the demon.

Romance's stupid face is smiling. "Sshh. You should smile more. Like this." He stretches his lips further. "See? You're so much prettier when smiling."

There's nothing to smile about. You only huff and roll your eyes before obliging—a forced, crooked smile that genuinely made him wince.

Ignoring that and turning around, you spot Baby rummaging through your fridge again. You notice how loud he was doing it too; he intentionally does that to get your attention when he couldn't find anything he liked.

"I have some popsicles in the freezer," you say, walking over and opening the top part. Baby perks up at the sight and chuckles. "Bunch of flavors."

"Always know what we need," he snickers as he casually grabs all of them.

You ignore that and sit on the counter with Abby who's fumbling with his shirt buttons. He stiffens at the sight at you and plays it cool with a smile.

"Jinu's out again, huh?" you hum, gently taking over his task a moment ago. He relaxes in your care.

"Yeah," he nods. "Only a matter of time until the big boss calls him again."

Hmm. You don't know how to reply that. So, you simply don't. They rarely tell you anything, and if they do, it's always something you'd never have any context of.

You slip the last button off and pat his chest. "Done."

Abby stands up, his shirt flying dramatically away at the same time. You squint your eyes at his exposed abs that he's clearly so proud of.

Despite yourself, a snicker escapes you. Abby smirks and traces his pec with his thumb. "Beautiful, is it not?"

Cornball.

"Hey, wait," you turn away, leaving Abby disappointed from your lack of response, "where's Mystery?"

Oh, no.

You rush to your room and almost slam the door open—

Great. He's laying on your bed. Again.

"Mystery!" you yelp, and he immediately sits up at your voice. "Out! Out!!"

He scrambles out of your bed and teleports away. You do a quick inspection on your bed—alright. Nothing damaged at the very least.

You swear—you had two rules for them to which they agreed to: one, keep their human form. Second, STAY OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM. You have a guest room for their resting needs.

You head back to your living room, seeing them all huddled up on your couch. Each one of them having a popsicle with unique flavors.

"Baby," you call, only to end up with all of them turning to you. Your face flushes. "Uh, Baby. Give me one too."

He throws you a surprisingly not melted popsicle with a sweet smile.

"Thanks," you smile back. Then an idea comes in. They all seem like they're in a fairly good mood, so maybe you can take a break—

You grab a jacket from the rack. "Anyway, I hope you guys don't mind, but I'll go for a walk in the park—"

"NO," all of them growl, you flinch, turning around to see their demon forms—an exception to rule 1 is that it will be broken when they're deadly serious.

"..OkayIwon't"

— 🥀

working with crumbs.... saja boys writers u guys r killing it... also huntrix too pelase

[yzzart]

⋆˚࿔ WHO COULD RESIST A DEMON HUNTER GIRLFRIEND? ── HEADCANONS

୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: F!+demon hunter!reader, parallel of this scenario, mention of Enzo, term "jackpoit" and DARKCOM, light content.

⭑.ᐟ By habit, and some intentionally unexpected encounters, of living with and witnessing certain works with Dante, you got used to his classic “jackpot”; it’s not your fault, come on.

⤷ He would say those words in almost anything, when he shoots and kills demons or mercenaries, when he throws a paper ball from the basket and hits it, when he hits a step in the DDR; practically, everything. — And you, his poor girlfriend, were a victim.

⤷ The first time you said this in Dante's presence was during one of the jobs Enzo had sent you, and that the white-haired boy decided to join out of sheer boldness, and while stabbing the demon to his death.

“I can’t believe i’m hearing this from you.” — On the one hand, you didn’t know if Dante was showing off, flattering or celebrating; maybe he was doing all three at the same time. — Readjusting some ammunition in your pistol, you found the situation funny, but you knew he would spend hours or days talking about it. — "I get so emotional, my eyes are burning."

“It’s your fault.” — You defended yourself, standing face to face with your boyfriend; including a defiant look, wanting to show certainty or trying to. — “Nobody told you to say that every single time.”

⭑.ᐟ Everything for you, in a fun and witty way, becomes a competition; from who could finish the job in the shortest time to who got the most points in the DDR. — Of course, in the dance competition, the victory was yours; since Dante tried to reproduce the character's dance rather than, in fact, the steps presented.

⤷ However, he was the one who finished the job the fastest. — That was no competition.

⭑.ᐟ Since you had Enzo, that cheeky and charismatic little guy, as a common client, it wasn't hard for you and Dante to perform duties together; that scoundrel knew about your relationship and wanted the "lovebirds" to enjoy these moments together. — Don't take it the wrong way, he thought you were really cute.

⤷ It's no wonder that Enzo declared himself to be your and Dante's "cupid." — He showed off to whoever was listening, or enduring, the day he made you two meet; obviously, he exaggerated his words too much.

⭑.ᐟ Dante flirted with you, cheekily, 24 hours a day, that was more than a fact. — That man never tired, even after conquering you, of teasing you or flirting with you; you could be at work, far from each other and communicating through messages, he never got tired of you. — It was harder than he imagined, trying to concentrate on something, even if it could cost him his death.

⤷ How many times, while they were contacting you to receive a job that could be valued at a lot of money, and that damn guy was behind you, pressing himself against your skin and making you shiver? — It was so ridiculous. — Just like in other situations, which were not few.

“There was a rumor going around that,” — Sitting at the wooden table, curling your lips as you cleaned one of your filthy weapons, you told the boy. — “you know that explosion on that street near the ice cream shop?” — Dante murmured in confirmation, he was on the other side of the room, taking off his shirt. — “so, possibly, DARKCOM had a hand in it, i don’t know.”

“Bae,” — Moving from where he was, Dante’s necklace swayed as he walked towards you; of course, your eyes went from your gun to that amulet. — “I love your voice, even if you’re talking about those little shits.” — Your boyfriend shamelessly stood between your thighs, taking the gun from your hand and doing the same job you were doing before. — “This one is really dirty, isn’t it? Have mercy.” — He laughed, receiving a murmur from your mouth, and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. — “You can continue, love.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have a hilarious idea, can I have a request for Dante with a s/o who payed attention to a marketable plushie of him?

Like, a tsum tsum plush version of him? Imagine he tried his ways and even annoyed his s/o (or even tried to get rid of it). It's funny to see him getting jealous of a plush version of him.

Dante stared at the little plush you had left on accident. It was small -not enough to fill even the palm of his hand- blessed with a intentionally cute face that made you wanna buy it upon first glance, the damn plushy was harmless and in no way hurting anyone with it's placement, but it pissed Dante off as a scowl came across his face.

'i hate you little plush bastard, no matter how handsome you look becuase you took the attention and love of my sweetheart,' Dante said as he leaned down towards the plush until they were face to face, 'but just remebered your looks came from me and no one can replace the orignal heartthrob you second rate-'

'Dante are you threatning my tsum tsum plush?' your voice made Dante stop to look over at you, standing in the doorway with a look of amuesment cross your face, before straighting his posture as a easy going smile graced his lips.

'no, i wasn't threatning the little guy i was just...welcoming him into our life.' Dante replies, giving the innocent plush the evil side eye as though waiting for the thing to suddenly develop the ability to talk or just grow legs and walk away and out your lives for good, just so Dante can stake claim to your attention and affection once again.

You looked unconvincingly at him, finding his sudden jealously of an plush toy the most hilarious thing yoiu have ever seen. You guessed it was because of Dante's demon side not taking lightly to having to fight for your attention, not after being the main recipient of your love for such a long time; so much that even a small thing as a plushy was a unwanted threat.

Possessive half demons were defintely funny things especially if what they were jealous of were of no consequence at all, it was adorable, but it was also an unecessary jealousy that can also prove to be a headache when trying to reason with a half demon; especially one who thinks he's being replaced with a plush toy.

'Sure you're not because to me it looks like you were trying to make the poor thing combust.' you replied as you moved across the room and past Dante to pick up the plush look alike of your partner, holding it close to your chest as you could see the fury and jealously rage within his eyes, you swore you could've heard a warning growl come from the back of his throat which made you raise your brow at him. 'don't tell me you're jealous of a stuffed toy, one that looks exactly like you to be more specific.' you added, holding the plush closer to your chest, just to hear that warning growl coming from Dante once more.

'do- do you really need to be holding the damn thing so closely to your chest like that? i just-' Dante couldn't formulate words as his mind was too busy filled with the jealous rage that consumed his inner demon, who demanded that he tore that thing from your arms and shooting it to bits. Yet while he managed to withhold himself from doing so, that doesn't stop him from becoming envious of how close the plush got to be to your chest, to listen to your heart and it's unique song that use to sing in his ear at night or when he wanted a cuddle.

'are jealous.' You teased with a massive grin painted across your face, raising the plush of Dante to your lips before tucking the small thing under your chin, as though you were trying to hug it as though it was a living, breathing human and laughing softly to yourself upon hearing Dante's poor attempt to hide his jealousy from taking over him completely. You knew you were playing with fire, but you didn't know when you were going to bare witness to something like this again, something you could lightheartedly tease him about in the future in good nature before reminding him that no one could replace him; not even a plush lookalike.

'no!' Dante almost barked.

you shrugged. 'okay if you say so, me and mini Dante will be spending quality time together.' as you were about to move out of the room and within the blink of an eye and you were tucked within Dante's arms with his head burried in your neck, while the plush that was held closely to you was flung to the farthest corner of the room by an inhuman force, as though something had thrown it with all the hate in their heart. poor thing.

'Was that necessary Dante? are you happy now?' you asked as you felt his arms tighten on your waist as he nosed at your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin as his warning growls became purrs of content and happiness now that the threat to your heart was eliminated. 'mine.' He murmuered. 'All mine with no one to share with, not anymore.' He adds as he felt a weight lift from his chest and shoulders and a light feeling replaced it, knowing that he didn't have to compet for you anymore, there was only one person worthy of being your mate and that was him and he'd prove it time and time again.

you let out a wholehearted laugh as you lean back into him, making him purr louder. 'You're unbelievable.' you said, kissing the mop of white hair that tickled your neck and shoulder.

Dante didn't care in this moment as he contiued to hang off of you even as you continued your day like a leech. 'He was going to take you away from me, couldn't let that happen.' he awnsers but you couldn't help but believe that it was the demon within him speaking through him.

'He was a plush Dante. There is no competition for my heart, why do you think i made sure the plush looked like you silly?' You questioned with amuesment as Dante only burried his face in deeper into your neck, his cheeks somewhat flushed and felt warm against you, as though he was trying to either fuse with you or hide himself behind you through the act of cuddling you from behind.

'can we just cuddle now ad forget all about this?' was his response and you decided to get off his back about his unwarrented jealously and kiss his head, whispering 'of course we can baby, of course we can.'

[scarletcomalies]

Natasha, your mom's friend, who accepted the task of teaching you self-defense classes. However, in just a few sessions, she was also able to tame your arrogant attitude.

Word count: 1,488

Warnings: Theft, mention of knives and guns, brat reader. 18+ content, degrading, restraint, slight bit of dub-con, Nat has a penis, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding.

A/N: Not sure how drabbles work, but I was bored at a birthday party, and I felt like writing a little something hehe.

It all started when a thief had taken your handpurse from you and ran away quickly.

You barely felt it being snatched from you, and as you turned around, you realized that the thief was already at a considerable distance, so you opted to simply mutter a curse under your breath and continue on your way.

The thief was going to be disappointed when he sees its contents anyway, and you weren't going to run in heels for lipstick, a crumpled five dollar bill and your student ID.

Although it wasn't a particularly shocking event, your mother, with her tendency toward overprotectiveness, was convinced that this event had irreversibly scarred you. As a result, she decided to ask her best friend, Natasha Romanoff, to teach you self-defense classes.

From the beginning, you made clear your disinterest in attending. You arrived intentionally late for every session, and at the redhead's scoldings, you would simply roll your eyes and dismiss her words with disdain. During training, you often interrupted her instructions with snide remarks, and refused to follow her directions, preferring to improvise moves that lacked technique. There was something magnetic in her determination and in the way her green eyes flashed with frustration that made you purposefully act even more insufferable than usual. You loved to see it.

During lessons, there were times when she would restrain you from behind so that you would repeat the technique she had taught you, and you could feel a bulge in her pants rubbing against your ass. It was such a yearning feeling, that you would pretend to do it all wrong, so that she would make you repeat it, and in that way, prolong the contact.

"Your mom just wants to protect you, you know?" Natasha remarked, once another not-so-successful session was over.

You were so exhausted, you preferred to sit on the floor with your legs crossed rather than even get up to help Natasha put the equipment away.

"Come on," you scoffed from your spot. "The thief barely touched me. He just took my handpurse and left."

"Fortunately," Natasha replied. "Imagine if he'd had a knife, or worse, a gun. Imagine if you had been alone, at night."

She took your silence as if you didn't really care to understand your mother's point of view, but in reality, you were reflecting. She just wanted you to know how to take care of yourself, in case something worse than that happened. And Natasha had been so nice and patient to you.

But before you could respond, she spoke up, "What am I bothering to convince you for? You probably are so selfish, that you'd let someone stab you just to worry your poor mother."

You weren't sure if her words had hurt or offended you, as perhaps you had taken your attitude to such an extreme that you had actually caused her to have a twisted perception of you. It was true that you possessed certain difficult qualities, but you were not evil. Sometimes you simply felt that your mother's overprotection was excessive, and that made you more irritable than usual.

What you said next was the result of not having slept at all the night before, for you had been studying intensely for an exam. Despite all the sleeplessness, you didn't manage to answer it as you expected, leaving many questions blank. All that you had accumulated, added to her hurtful words, led you to say the following...

"And you probably have a tiny dick," you snapped. "And maybe that's why you're bitter and miserable, because no one wants you."

Natasha was silent for a moment, too peacefully that it was scary, but her intense, darkened eyes were the only thing that allowed you to realize that she was indeed impacted by your words.

"Dare to say that again?" She challenged you, the tension in the atmosphere becoming more palpable every second.

"No one wants a woman with a small dick," you crossed your arms over your chest, arching your eyebrow in that defiant manner she was already more than sick of.

Natasha began to laugh, but it wasn't the sarcastic kind of laugh, no, it was one that was beginning to terrify you and hindering your ability to maintain your composure.

Natasha approached you with firm steps, her commanding presence filling the space between you both. She was so close that you could watch her green orbes, deep and piercing, burning with such intensity that you felt that at any moment, she was going to set the whole room on fire.

She simply pulled down her pants and boxers at the same time, at the level of her thighs, and seeing the massive size of her member, made you swallow your words.

"Is this a small dick for you?" She asked, seemingly satisfied at your shocked expression.

And as if the situation wasn't humiliating enough, Natasha used a quick and precise maneuver, where she grabbed your shoulders and, in an instant, had you face down on the floor, making you groan in discomfort. She proceeded to restrain your wrists against the small of your back, and by straddling the back of your legs, she prevented any movement from them as well.

"Come on, defend yourself like I taught you," she groaned, pressing you harder against the cold floor.

You tried to free yourself from her grip, but every move you made only brought you more pain, because Natasha, with her keen perception, detected every attempt to escape and prevented it with ease, adjusting her grip to make you feel even more trapped.

The whimpers you emanated were so delightful to her ears, making her cock grow more erect. She didn't know who was suffering the most, whether she for not filling your bratty hole right there, or you, who were being physically and verbally degraded.

"That's what I thought," she chuckled, grabbing the shaft of her cock and smacking it softly against your covered ass.

With one hand, albeit clumsily, she managed to pull down your pants and panties just like she did a few moments ago, and released your wrists so that, with her two hands, she held your waist and positioned you on all fours so firmly that you felt as if you had no control over your own body.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you pretend to be dumber than you are, just to feel my cock against you," she remarked. Obviously, she was able to understand the workings of incredibly complex, criminal and dangerous minds, how could she not detect yours? A clueless, spoiled, college student. "You probably said that just so you could see it, hm? So desperate for Daddy's cock."

But it was very double standards on her part, calling you desperate when she always ended up in the training facility bathrooms after you left, grunting your name between longing gasps as she pleasured herself.

She ran the tip over your awaiting hole, but as she noticed how it contracted in anticipation, almost imploring to be filled, the last ounce of reason left her body, letting her full length inside you. And better than she had imagined, your warm, wet pussy welcomed her deliciously.

In unison, you let out a prolongued moan of pleasure, both of you mitigating that unspoken desire that had become so unbearable.

Her movements began slow and safe, intending to feel for as long as possible how tight you felt around her, and to hear those low moans you vocalized every time she entered and exited you, complemented by the sloshing sound your hole made in consequence.

But that same action was what provoked her breath to quicken, and along with it, her rythm. Her hips were working overtime to match her cock's desperate needs, but it was impossible when said needs increased every passing second with the way you were whimpering, now high pitched and more frequent.

"Can a small dick fill your hole this good, hm?" She groaned, tilting her head back as she felt her climax approaching.

"No! No!" You cried out, and just like her, you could feel it coming. Your head was growing fuzzy for the pleasure altering every fiber of your being, like the most powerful drug ever made. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I lied! I love your big, fat cock! Please!"

She swore to herself that she was going to be strong and proud enough to stop when you admitted it, having already achieved her goal, but your words made her cum involuntarily erupt inside of you.

That sensation of being completely filled with her seed made your orgasm follow hers a little later, yours and her release leaving her cock shiny and dripping with your mixed juices.

Natasha was aware that even the most intense masturbation would not match how wonderfully your pussy embraced her cock, and how mesmerizing was the sight of your ass bouncing whenever your bodies clashed together.

Imagination was not going to overcome reality, in this case.

So she preferred, just this once, not to be frustrated by her loss of control.

[takes1]

Heyy can you pls write an Ushijima smut?? Plsss, also I love all your works🫶🏼🫶🏼

ushijima x reader escalated cockwarming

thanks pookie!! sorry this took a while, i wrote half of something else for him but that idea died so i had to start all the way over. also wanted to do a normal banner for him but i'm liking my new multi-panel banners a lot more. might do a full switch🤔

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / cold start / ushijima likes old movies / sweaty ushijima / dom!ushijima / calling you babygirl / doggy / lap sitting / use of vibrator / gentleman ushijima / reader making ushijima want a kid / breeding kink / 1.2k words

links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. my imagines

"Shh," He smushes his lips against your ear, stealing a tingly kiss or two while he's there, "Can't hear the movie..."

It was loud and overwhelming, leaving you to squirm away at the sensation. But his giant arm kept you crushed back against his chest.

It's a Wonderful Life played on an intentionally low volume on the living room TV. Your His vibrator, torturing your sensitive little clit, was louder than the dull drone of their transatlantic voices.

You took a sharp breath in to let out a cry, but his palm intercepted the attempt.

Watching favorite movie, engaged in his favorite pastime, inside of his favorite girl- he gave an approving hum into a harsh nick to your shoulder and rolled his hips.

His cock stirred again and bulged against your g-spot. He was prepared this time for the flinch. He kept you still with laughable ease.

It wasn't so much about strict punishment or absolute reward when he had such a natural, domineering presence in the bedroom. It was trust that kept you from begging him to just fuck you. There was an understanding that he would take care of you, no matter what you level of play you engaged in, for however long.

You did what he told you with a smile, enjoying how he took all your worries away, how he could bear the weight of the world off of your shoulders with his touch, his attention.

The warmth of his arms around you, his hand covering your loud mouth, kept you docile for a time.

He always smelled so good after he came home. Tasted salty, like hard work, with a stimulating, natural musk to his skin that you couldn't get enough of.

"Whadd'yawant, babygirl?" He flexed inside you again, taking his palm to your throat, instead- a heavy sigh the only indication that it effected him, "Tell me."

Your thighs flexed on top of his larger, powerful ones- "Ahh-! To- watch the- movie?"

His chuckle, rare and genuine, made you smile.

Hell, you had been sitting on top of him for so long that the film was almost over. Your response, an unsure question at best, was silly.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and moved his hips real, real slow, "You sure?"

Another gasp. This time curling your weight forward, for him to resist against. He felt so good, if he could just keep this mellow movement for two minutes, you might cum-- you couldn't lie again.

"N-o."

He bottomed out, leaving you twitchy, a shudder on your uptake, "Please, Toshi, just fuck me-,"

You whimpered at his strengthening grip, his stalled breath at his own name, "I don't care how- I just- mmh- I want you."

Usually, he didn't tease you like that because he already knew what you wanted. Usually, he didn't come home so burnt out and touchy, placing you in his lap, pushing your panties to the side.

Usually, he wouldn't be so inspired as to get you on the cold, hardwood floor, to take you like you asked.

He let you have one hand for your vibrator, but made sure to keep your free wrist still, next to the side of your head.

"Such a good girl--," Was a strangled groan.

The lewd sound of him finally pounding you mixed with your overstimulated, grateful cries.

Sure, he had been purposefully edging you for the better half of a Christmas classic, but he wasn't exempt either. Staying mostly hard inside of you was difficult when he needed to take you all day- made more critical of a task as soon as he was home, melting at your scent, your touch.

"Mmh-ha-Ah-! Tosh-i-, I'm--," You sniffled, eyes burning.

He came to the sound of you screaming his name and clenching around his sore cock.

He didn't slow or soften. He kept your hips upright when your strength failed you, always your big, sweet gentleman.

Grumbly, and quiet, and uneven, was his voice as he finally stuttered to a stop, deep inside of you.

Wakatoshi wasn't very vocal, but his habits spoke for what he liked.

You were panting, still smushed against the floor, in the lesser waves of your orgasm, as he looked down and stared hard at all the cum he crammed inside of you. His brow twitched, but you couldn't see.

Your pussy was already letting some of it drip down your thighs, so despite the how sore he was, he stuffed himself balls deep with an overstimulated groan. The desire to do it was more of a biological trance.

"M-mmnh-!" Your body braced against the feeling.

He shushed you and weighed you down into a lazier prone-bone position. The floor was so cold you couldn't help but press back into him as much as you could.

It hurt him to move, but he didn't want to soften, didn't want to waste time not filling you up again.

"Augh-h, fu-ck," His pained vocalizations were hot and tingly across your shoulder, "So- so good, baby. F-uck..."

Knowing, more specifically hearing how good you felt was a big reason why you gave a spontaneous round two the chance it deserved.

His exhaustion from the day was seeping into everything.

The huffing, the groans, vibrated against your ear as he dropped like a box of concrete to his forearms, adding to a mixture of pain and pleasure he had slowly succumbed to.

"Ah-h, fu-c'-- your pussy feels so'good, h-mnn,"

"You- ahh- want more? Huh?"

Your face warmed at his sinful confessions. His sloppy thrusts, paired with his drunken, blunt stammer fucked you into a pleasant buzz all over again.

You were so full, but, yeah, you did want more.

His forearms hugged around your front, his chest pushed down onto you, and his hand cupped your throat again.

"Mmh--!" You went to say something, but his other hand was over your mouth- so all you could do was whine, maybe drool, against his palm.

He was breathy at how fast you could get him to the edge of his orgasm again, just by taking his cock like his perfect, pretty girl.

Why hadn't he bought you a ring yet?

"Oh-h, fuck--," He got rougher, faster, at the thought of you as his little housewife, a brief flash of your future together enough to clip him over.

Another groan, this time a little whinier, into your scalp as he fucked another load into your poor, throbbing cunt.

His breath had gotten so shaky, uneven, and he grew heavier on top of you.

You were completely gone, trembling and weak, hips sinking further from him.

Warm, gentle kisses and a softer, attentive touch flooded your senses, something to focus on, as you slowly came out of it.

That was one of the many things you loved about him. He took care of you quite well, especially after being so rough.

"You okay, babygirl?"

The first thing he made sure to do was pick up you off of the floor. He utilized a cute little bridal-style carry into the bathroom so that you could shower together.

"Mmmhm," Dreamy and soft, was all you could give him.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[dumbdolphin333]

I find the way that evilness was portrayed in Raven during wtw to be just... very true to her. Like she became ruthless and mean, but her destruction was not aimless. She had a goal, and that goal was to defeat Courtly. But she never wanted to intentionally hurt her friends. When Apple stepped in front of her, Raven didn't just push through to get to Courtly. She didn't want to harm Apple.

I don't think that signing the storybook made Raven evil- I think it amplified her flaws. She wasn't working against good, she was working against Courtly because Courtly was hurting her friends and trying to stage a coup. Evil Raven is only really considered evil because she suddenly became extremely angry and violent, but I don't think that those qualities were completely absent before. Raven was angry, and rightfully so. And we've seen her anger burst through in her magic (ex. turning Grimm into a chicken, freezing the crowd during legacy day). But what stopped these things from taking over her was her overwhelming kindness- Raven had no desire to hurt anyone. No matter how rude to her they were, she always made an effort to be thoughtful and caring.

I think this is how to storybook works- it doesn't just flip a switch and makes you evil, it looks for the traits in everyone that most aligns with their story. Vanity is a huge part of the role of evil queen, but Raven has just never exhibited that in any capacity, so her evilness wasn't vain. However she has been angry, so her evilness was absolutely furious. But just like it can't create traits out of thin air, it also can't destroy them. One of Raven's most defining features is her immense love for her friends. So of course that was still in her, signing couldn't just make that disappear. It doesn't mold the person to the role, it molds the role to the person. And I think a big reason of why she could break out of the trance that the storybook out her in was because her friends are such a big anchor for who she is. I think that just how the storybook rearranged her traits to amplify and put the negative ones at the forefront, she was able to find herself again by doing the same thing in reverse.

And I think this a big part of why she had a lot more angry moments in dragon games (which I love. Angry Raven I love u). I feel like the begining of the series and dg are when Raven is at her angriest. And I think that after signing, Raven probably became a lot more susceptible to sudden changes in her emotions. Like oh my god imagine your personality gets shifted around and then u just have to find ur way back to normal? Holy shit what a nightmare. The building blocks of ur person get knocked down and scrambled into a tenuously balanced tower and then u just have to rebuild them all in their original fashion. Let this 16 year old girl REST!!! PLEASE!!!!

[mingoooossii]

Little things you do that makes ATEEZ feel soft.

Ateez!maknae line x reader

Warnings: fluff and just the boys being whipped <33

A/n: i kinda let this marinate in my head but I think it's been too long. Also the song, not inspired but I was listening to it while making this.

Hyung line. Ateez masterlist. Masterlists.

San.

Tugging his sleeve.

• ok so, ik this is a bit confusing but hear me out.

• this is a thing you do often, grabbing his sleeve for a sense of comfort, to get him to come with you to somewhere

• or simply just...to get his attention.

• for you it's a habit that brings you a sense of familiarity and security that is so comforting.

• you don't even notice it when you do it, it just feels so natural.

• but for him? He never felt so soft before.

• he knew this was a sort of comfort to you and was glad that he could provide it to you.

• and god, you were so adorable.

• that cute expression you wear when you seek for him and that small smile that find its way to your lips when you find him?

• *internal screeching*

• dies a little inside everytime you do it and the next thing you know, he's pulling you into a bear hug.

"Damn it! Why are you so cute?!"

"???"

• good luck trying to escape him now.

Mingi.

Covering him when he's about to bump into something.

• as we all know this man can get quite clumsy.

• so it is not uncommon that he bumps into stuff, especially the kitchen counter corners, and gets bruises.

• he doesn't even notice it most of the time.

• you, however, do notice it and gets worried.

• you tried to tell him before but to no avail, he never even noticed.

• so you made it your mission instead. Covering the sharp corners with your hand whenever he was about to bump into it.

• you did it so often that it was almost instinctive now.

• he, however, took a while to notice this

• and when he did, he was so touched 😭

• he felt like those female leads from those kdramas

• he felt so so special like-

• and now, he sometimes does it intentionally to see if you'd react the same way.

• and gets giddy when you do. (Imagine him giggling with his crescent eye smile 😭 I'm gonna cry-)

"I have something to confess. I'm in love with you."

"... Mingi, we're literally dating."

"I know and I love you."

Wooyoung.

Listening to him.

• this isn't new information but he loved to talk.

• it just comes naturally to him, wanting to share anything that makes him happy.

• now, he knew that not everyone might like this habit of his but it didn't really matter to him.

• not when you looked at him like he put the stars in the sky.

• And you weren't the most extroverted person.

• it just... wasn't your thing so you appreciated him doing all the expressing for you.

• now, he knew you genuinely liked to listen to him (even if it's something random, you'd still listen to it like it's the most interesting thing)

• but he was curious. Why exactly did you like it so much?

• he asked you this one day and you responded,

• "You look happy when you talk, so i wanted to listen because it makes me happy too."

• ...he swore, he just fell deeper in love with you.

"I'm gonna marry you."

"...?!"

Jongho.

Giving him little gifts.

• more specifically, hand-made gifts

• you were big on crafting

• knitting, origami, bead making whatever it is, you loved doing it

• and you also love giving it to him. Whenever you two hang out, you always had something to give him

• and he loved it.

• Even though he pretends to complain abt it at times

• you had often found him staring at your little creations with a soft smile

• though he had always denied it whenever you tried to confront him

• you know that he truly appreciates it

• to him, these were little tokens of your love and that is enough to melt him

��� he always has one of your little gifts on him like a charm (because it makes him feel like he's with you even when you two were apart)

• he's also kind of protective over it

• never lets any of the members touch any of the charms (que the members teasing him for it) but he doesn't really care

• he loves you so that's all that matters

"... It's been...a while."

"Admit you love it, then I'll make you another one."

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

[selfloverrrrrr]

somno with megumi? or something like taking drugs/getting high with megumi who intentionally makes you take more than you should and then gives into the temptation and takes advantage of you? and I bet he would be such a gentleman with that, whispering reassuring words into your ears while you try to resist but fail because of how high you are?

too much? you can just ignore it

Nothing is too much in this blog bbg.... 💗

Lost in lust

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Megumi, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Megumi’s POV

Three years. Three damn years I spent abroad. Classes. Research. Late nights studying in silence, imagining home as exactly how I left it. I thought when I came back, everything would be the same. Gojo still annoying, Geto still smug. My room untouched. My seat at the dinner table waiting. What I didn’t expect… was her. When I stepped through the doors of the house I grew up in, I noticed new shoes by the door. Small. Feminine. “Welcome home, Megumi!” Geto called out from the kitchen, his arms still covered in flour. “Hey,” I muttered, dragging my suitcase in. Gojo crashed into me two seconds later with a suffocating hug.

And then I saw her. A girl. At first, just movement—she peeked out from the hallway, towel in hand, clearly mid chore. Her eyes locked with mine, wide and startled, like she hadn’t expected to find me standing there. She was younger than me. Delicate. A soft face, a curious expression, a body that moved like it was made of silk and sleep. “Who is that?” I asked quietly. Geto smiled. “Oh, that’s Y/N. I took her in last year.” he said. “Took her in?” I repeated. Gojo laughed. “We told you on the phone, didn’t we?” No, they didn’t. They didn’t tell me they’d brought a girl into this house—into my house. And definitely not the hottest girl I've ever seen. But more than that—I couldn’t look away from her.

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t know what to expect from Megumi. They talked about him sometimes, the quiet son who lived overseas. I thought he’d be distant. Cold. He was, at first. But he also stared. A lot. Sometimes he’d appear beside me in the hallway. Lean too close when asking questions. Say things that made my cheeks warm even if they didn’t sound wrong. Just… heavy. “You always smell like jasmine. Is that perfume or just you?”

Or—

“If I had known someone like you was here, I wouldn’t have left the country.” He was quiet, but intense. Like a storm that waited.

Megumi’s POV

I knew she was supposed to be like a sister. Someone Gojo and Geto trusted. But she wasn’t my sister. I didn’t grow up with her. I didn’t even know her. And yet… I knew I wanted her. She’d flinch when I stood too close, but never pull away. Her eyes always darted to my lips when I spoke too low. I knew how to read people. She didn’t hate it. I made sure we were alone more often. Waited until Geto and Gojo were out. One rainy day, the house was quiet. Just me and her. She passed me in the hallway. I caught her wrist.

“You don’t have to go to that study session,” I said. “I can help you. I’m better than any tutor.” I touched her back. Her shoulder. My voice dipped lower. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ll take care of you.” She didn’t know what she was agreeing to. Didn’t know she was being played. And in that silence, I kissed her. It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. And she didn’t push me away. And then I led her to my room. Those sloppy hot kisses. When I pressed my knee on her core she started becoming desperate.

She moaned. She clung onto me like her life depended on it. The night grew darker.... Our clothes on the floor shattered. I'm seeing the perfect body of her's I was dying to see. I was dying to feel. And goddddd it feels Devine. The way her cunt wrapped around me. As if it's trying to suck the soul out of me. My head fell behind. My mouth open from moans and groans..... All I could hear was the wet skin slapping sloppy sounds and y/n's desperate sounds of moaning my name.... That's heaven.....

Y/N’s POV

The next morning, I was still sore. Not just physically—but everywhere inside. My mind spun in a haze of what last night meant. Megumi’s touch still lingered on my skin like smoke. The way he’d whispered my name, held me afterward—like I was something precious. I believed it. I wanted to believe it. So when I heard the front door open and his voice echo in the foyer, light and casual—my heart jumped. I peeked from the hallway, smiling like a fool.

Until I saw her. Clinging to his arm, laughing. Her perfume hit first—expensive and sweet. Then her heels clicked on the tile. She was gorgeous. The kind of girl that made you shrink without saying a word. And Megumi? He wasn’t pulling away. He looked comfortable. Gojo shouted something from the kitchen about guests, Geto offered tea, and I just stood there frozen—heart pounding so hard I swore the walls heard it. I stepped forward anyway.

“M-Megumi…?” My voice cracked. “Who… who is she?” He blinked like I’d asked something stupid. “Oh. This is Nanako....my girlfriend.” Girlfriend? Girlfriend? The world crashed all at once. My stomach dropped. My fingers curled into the fabric of my dress. “You… have a girlfriend?” I whispered, not even bothering to hide the shake in my voice. He smirked. “Yeah. For a few years now. Why?” My lips parted, but no sound came out. Everyone else was still chatting in the other room. No one saw the way my eyes filled. No one noticed the way I took a step back.

He didn’t even look sorry. “You didn’t say anything,” I managed. He shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered.” Didn’t… matter? He brushed past me with Nanako, hand on her lower back like he hadn’t held me in his arms hours ago. Like he hadn’t kissed me like I was the only thing he wanted in this world. I turned around slowly, walking the other way before the tears could fall. I didn’t cry in front of them. I refused. But when I made it to my room, I collapsed. Silent. Shaking. My fists clutching the bedsheet to keep from screaming. Because last night…He told me I was special. And today, he acted like I was nothing.

It took months, but I started to heal. The ache Megumi left inside me didn’t disappear—but I stitched around it. Slowly. Quietly. I stopped waiting for his gaze to linger on me. I stopped wondering why he never apologized. And then I met Yuta. Gentle. Patient. Kind. He looked at me like I was someone to cherish, not consume. He held my hand like I was fragile. He called me pretty without expectations. With him, I could laugh again. Breathe again. I never told him about Megumi. And Megumi… never knew about him. Until that night.

Megumi’s POV

The party was loud—lights low, drinks poured too fast. My head was already buzzing from what I took earlier, but the second I walked in and saw her across the room—curled into Yuta’s side, smiling up at him like he was her world—

Everything.

Went.

Red.

Yuta? Yuta had her? I gripped the edge of the counter, jaw tightening. The room was spinning but my eyes stayed locked on her. Her hand was on his chest. His arm was around her waist. And when he kissed her cheek—she smiled like that kiss meant something. I laughed bitterly. So that’s what she needed? Sweet words and soft hands? I was already breathing smoke when I saw them approach the drinks table.

She picked up a cup. I slid in next to them like nothing was wrong. “Yo,” I greeted Yuta casually. “Didn’t know you were bringing your girl.” I looked at her then, watching her smile falter a little. She looked… wary. “I’m happy for you,” I said, plastering on a grin. “You look good together.” Yuta chuckled, clueless. “Thanks, man. She's amazing.” “I bet,” I murmured, reaching for a bottle my friend had slipped me earlier. High-grade stuff. Way too strong for someone like her. And none of them knows it's drugged.

But I didn’t even hesitate. I poured it into the cup she had just picked up and smiled at her. “Try this one,” I offered. “It’ll hit nice—just a little buzz. Promise.” She looked uncertain, eyes flicking to Yuta. Yuta nodded, trusting me. “Megumi always knows the good stuff.” That trust was all it took. She sipped. Ten minutes later, her steps grew unsteady. Her smile drooped. She started leaning into Yuta more and more—until her eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. Yuta thought it was the drinks catching up, but I knew better. “She needs air,” I offered when she started to slip. “I’ll take her home. Don’t worry.” He hesitated, then nodded. “You sure?” I smiled. “I’ve got her.”

After reaching home.....

She was in my bed now. Quiet. Still. My heart was pounding with everything I shouldn’t be feeling—but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about Nanako. I didn’t care about Yuta. I didn’t care about anything except the fact that she was back in my home, where she should’ve stayed from the start. She chose someone else. So I took her back. Even if I had to drag her into hell with me to keep her.

I went up the bed over her. I looked at y/n's body. She's so gorgeous. How can I even leave her? How can I let another man touch her?! She's wearing a tight black backless dress. She looks hot.... God, she IS hot. I must be a fool to even thinking about leaving her!I run my hand over her thigh. I looked at her Lacy pantie. Fuck! I rubbed my thumb over her clit. My cock hardened at the feeling of touching her again. I can't control myself now. I ripped off her clothes. She's fully naked in front of me now.

I looked at her. I was lost in lust again. I felt like I'm seeing her like that for the first time again. I didn't waste any time, and leaned down. Licking her breast, sucking and teasing the nipples with my mouth and squeezing the other one with my hand. She slightly moaned in her sleep.

I looked at her pussy. I rubbed my finger on her clit and whispered "missed me? You're dripping like a whore~". Then I licked her pussy. I heard her moan again. I smirked at her moan and undid my pants. I freed my dick. I pushed my dick inside me in one slide. "Oh f-fuck" I moaned out. Her eyebrows curved when I pushed my dick inside her. I started thrusting in and out roughly. Her legs were shaking now. My thrust became harder and harder. Then I saw her eyes open slowly.

Y/n's POV

I was deep asleep and I woke up with a pain between my legs. I slowly opened my eyes. "You woke up?" I heard a voice said from the top of me. I looked up. It was Megumi? What was he doing on top of me?! Before I could react I felt a deep thrust and moaned loudly.

When I looked down I saw him thrusting inside me. "W-what... N-No stop!" I panicked and started pushing his chest. He chuckled. I started crying. "W-why... where's Yuta?... Yuta!!!! Help me please!!!" I screamed and sobbed.

Megumi chuckled. "He's not here baby...no one's here... it's just you and me" he whispered. "No let me go... i-i don't...I don't want this" I cried. But his thrusts became harder. "I don't think I'll" he said in a low voice and licked my neck. "You think you can use me as a warm up for another man who's apparently my friend?" He asked. "You used me I didn't!" I screamed at him.

I was throwing my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight ..... Oh god my perfect whore" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bit his shoulder and scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. I was screaming for him to stop. "Megumi P-Please....please not inside" I sobbed. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. "This time....it's gonna be inside" He whispered. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

He grabbed his shirt and wiped my thighs with it. Then threw the shirt away. Suddenly he kissed me again and I dug my nails on his chest. "Marking me already?" He asked. "Stay away from me" I replied turning my head away. "Come on... That's not how you should talk to your boyfrie–" "You're NOT my boyfriend!.... Yuta is" I cut off his sentence. Silent. He leaned closer. "Say that again... I dare you" He said. "You have your girlfriend... You live your life and let me–" "She's not my girlfriend" He said. "Not anymore.... I can feel the pain leaving you..... Won't do that again....and talk about Yuta again and see how I kill him.....you know well jail doesn't matter for me I have money.....can come out in one day......ONE DAY." He whispered.

My friend @queenfox15 helped me with this story 💗

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests💗

[ivysangel]

notes/cw: suggestive content (no explicit sex), jason intentionally scaring reader/getting off on reader's fear

He knows it's wrong. In the back of his mind, his morality objects to his actions. "Don't do this, Jason." The angel on his shoulder says. "You'll scare her." But wasn't that the point? To scare you a little, to get your heart rate up, to make you fear for your life just a bit. He would never hurt you; he'd never dream of it. There was no world, no universe where he would ever desire to lay a hand on you in a way that wasn't meant to bring you pleasure. And yet here he was, looming over you, head cocked to the side as he watched the soft rise and fall of your chest while you slept. So sweet and unassuming, brows furrowing as you stir in your sleep, perplexed by something only you could see. 

He moves around the bed, heavy boots made silent with years of stealth training. The creak of a single floorboard is loud in the quiet, and he knows he could've avoided it—he does it all the time—but he wants to wake you up; he wants you to see him. Head to toe in tactical gear, leather jacket stretched out over his arms, covered with blood and grime after a long night's work. "You should shower." the angel says. "Leave her alone." But he doesn't want to. Not until he's had his fill of you, your body, and the sweet juice it produces.

He steps on the creaky floorboard again, and your hands find your eyes, rubbing them softly. "Hello," you say, still somewhere in a dream. "Jason?" Your voice is so kind and welcoming, just like it always is, and he questions his own motives. It's still not too late for him to kiss you goodnight, but his pants are getting tight, and his breath is getting ragged. You'll hear it through the metallic rasp of the modulator soon if you don't already.

There's a moment of silence after you fully open your eyes. A moment of registering that something is off; something about Jason is off. You want to ask what's wrong, but your words get lost along the way, the intimidation of his demeanor killing them before they have a chance to get out. You try again, a full sentence forming in your brain, but the only thing that comes out is his name. Shaky and uncertain, laced with concern and confusion. He's quiet, standing still, shrouded in the darkness of the room, and you can see only an outline of his body and the glowing eyes of his mask. 

"Are you scared?" He asks. "You seem scared." The words are gravelly, rolling out of the red helmet with tension behind each one. He takes a step forward and drops a knee onto the bed, which causes it to dip with his weight. "Don't be. I won't hurt you…ever." The rough surface of a gloved hand reaches up to your face, caressing it gently. It's such a normal action for him, so mundane it's almost second nature now, But this is different; there's no love hidden in his touch, no adoration in his body language. Beneath the gentle stroke of his fingers against your skin was a perverted desire to see you fear for your life, to see you shake beneath his touch and beg for mercy. 

He leans in, cold metal grazing against your face, touching it just enough to send a chill down your spine. He takes a deep breath, imagining how you smell, knowing your scent won't penetrate his helmet. Clean comes to mind, the remnants of a shower on your skin, soap lathered all over your body. He likes clean; clean is good, clean is nice. But he prefers sweaty; it means he did a good job. The tightness in his pants becomes unbearable as images of your body covered in sweat come to mind, and he can taste the saltiness of his tongue. He needs to have you in his mouth, to taste you as you plead with him to let you cum. 

Your voice is small when you finally speak again, uneasy and fearful of him so omnipresent in the room. "Do you promise? Not to hurt me, I mean…Do you promise not to hurt me?" You make eye contact with the glowing white lenses of his mask, empty and emotionless, indicative of nothing beyond a bone-chilling cold. A modulated voice speaks through the mask, corrupt with desire. "I told you," He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. "I'd never hurt you."

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 27: afternoon stroll

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Warnings: moral dilemmas, age gap (r is 25 and Spencer is 40) a cocktail of feelings, relationship between ex-teacher and ex-student, and I think that's it!

Going grocery shopping was one of the most ordinary things you could do. There wasn’t much to it, so it wasn’t exactly an activity that brought you much excitement.

However, that day, it wasn't just a routine. You knew it when, at the end of the line in one of the checkout lanes, you recognized a tall man in a suit. It had been three years since you last saw your professor, and, to be honest, just the sight of him made your heart race just like it used to. I'd dare to say it was even more intense now.

You tried to keep your composure, and for a second, you wondered what you should do. You glanced down at yourself, grateful you’d decided to wear something decent that day: straight-cut black pants, a long-sleeved, lightweight white shirt over a black bra, intentionally chosen to show through a bit.

You hesitated, wondering if you should walk up and get in the same line he was in, or maybe choose the one next to his just to wave hello, or if it would be inappropriate to go up and hug him, or if…

Oh, no. He’d seen you. You couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement at the way his face lit up when he saw you or at the smile that spread across his lips, but there it was. He was just as handsome as before, maybe even more with the passing years. He looked gorgeous.

"Hey! It’s been so long!"

Your feet practically moved on their own toward him, still reeling from the whirlwind of feelings and passions you’d once harbored for your professor. You knew it was wrong, ethically and morally inappropriate, but you couldn’t help feeling what you felt.

"It really has been, Professor," you managed to respond.

You moved as if to initiate a hug, which he returned without hesitation, holding you around your waist with his free hand and pressing a gentlemanly kiss to your cheek. You felt like you could die from how red your face must’ve been.

"Please, don’t call me 'Professor.' It feels strange now," he smiled, amused. "I’m just Spencer."

"Alright then, Pro– Spencer," you corrected yourself. You savored his name on your lips and realized it felt just right.

"So, what have you been up to? Come, I’ll let you take my place in line," he offered.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll just get in line behind you.”

“I insist,” he said cordially. You could never say no to him; you never could.

You ended up giving in, feeling oddly cared for when he offered to help with what you were carrying. He was still every bit the gentleman, the kind you rarely encountered anymore.

“I’ve been well,” you replied, remembering he’d asked you a question. You were standing completely in front of him, not wanting to miss a second of looking at him. “I’m working at an accounting firm now. It’s not my dream job, but at least it’s stable and pays the bills. What about you? Are you still teaching, or did you go back to the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

“I went back to the unit,” he said, in that gentle voice you’d always adored hearing. “But I retired just a month ago.”

“Why?”

“A lot of things happened, and… I don’t know. I just felt it was time to take a break. They said the doors are always open for me, but I’m trying to live as peacefully as I can.”

“Well, that makes sense,” you encouraged him. “I’m glad to hear that; your health is the most important thing.”

There was something in Spencer’s expression you couldn’t quite read. Maybe it was just your love-struck mind imagining that he was looking at you with a mix of nostalgia, affection, and pride. His brown eyes shone in the sunlight, and it was enough to make you feel dizzy.

"Yes, but honestly, I’ve started feeling a bit restless with the inactivity. Next month, I might either pursue another PhD or find a job in my field that’s less demanding."

"Sometimes I forget you’re a genius," you murmured without thinking, your voice laced with pure admiration. "It’s so normal for you to take on a PhD as a hobby."

"Knowledge always opens doors. The more you know, the closer you get to finding the truth of who you are."

For a moment, you felt like you were back in one of his lectures and smiled shyly. He was such a mature man, with such a wealth of wisdom, that you could listen to him talk for hours about anything and never get bored.

Your gaze stayed locked on his for a few seconds, almost hypnotized, until the cashier called your attention to start ringing up your items.

Spencer studied your purchases carefully: a loaf of bread, a pack of cranberries, yogurt, some shampoo, and men’s deodorant. He thought about that last product. He had no doubt a woman could use such things, but it didn’t quite seem like your style. You smelled like something he identified as peonies and roses, so it didn’t make sense for you to choose a pine-scented deodorant.

It must be for a man. A man you were in a relationship with.

You paid. Then it was Spencer’s turn: a bag of coffee, honey, a package of walnuts, almonds, and dried fruit, a few pens, a notebook on sale, a jar of pain relievers, and a bottle of vitamins. Finally, there was a package of diapers for a newborn and a bib with the phrase: Snack now, think later.

Just as he had done with you, you analyzed the items, and, of course, that last one caught your attention.

He wasn’t buying those baby items just for fun, was he?

Your heart sank a bit as you understood what it implied: he’d just become a father.

“Thank you, miss. Have a nice day,” Spencer said, as polite as ever.

You stayed out of courtesy, watching him put his items in a plastic bag. Then he started to walk, and you followed.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye, huh?" you said. You didn’t want to sound hurt, but it came through. “It was nice seeing you, Spencer.”

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

That question left you in a dilemma. You looked at his left hand for a wedding ring, but there wasn’t one. The thought that your professor, whom you admired so much and had fallen in love with, might be the kind of man who took off his wedding ring to seduce young women disgusted you.

The sound of a phone interrupted the moment; it was his ringing.

“Hello?” he murmured. You hadn’t said goodbye, so you stayed in place. “I got Pampers, yes. I read that’s the best brand for newborns; they’re super absorbent and have a wetness indicator. And I found a really cute bib. Uh-huh, I’ll be there soon. Did you invite everyone? Great, I can’t wait to see them. See you, take care.”

Hearing his warm, affectionate tone made you feel envious; you wished you were the woman on the other end of the line.

“Your wife?” you asked.

“Wife? No, not at all,” he shook his head, almost offended. “That was my former unit chief; she just had a baby, and we agreed to meet up today with some friends.”

“Oh! For a… for a moment, I thought that was for your baby.”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “I haven’t had that good fortune yet.”

You’d never really wanted children, but at that moment, your insides turned completely at just the thought of him speaking to you with the same warmth he had with his coworker.

“Do you really need to hurry to that get-together? I mean, if you’re still planning to walk me home?”

“Not at all.”

“I take the metro from Station 17 to get there.”

“That’s funny! I’m going to the same station. We could walk there together and then go our separate ways.”

You eagerly agreed to the idea, and the two of you left the store. In the first block, you talked about general things. He noticed you’d dyed your hair, and you complimented his, which looked really good.

The tension between you two was palpable, and all you wanted to do was let out the feelings you’d kept hidden all this time. At first, you’d thought it was just a silly crush, mere admiration. But as time went on, it became harder to deny the obvious. You wanted to be his favorite; you wanted him to focus on you, so you’d done everything to be his best student.

Five years after meeting him, you knew for sure that what you felt was love. He was a bright light, and you were just a moth, desperate to get closer.

"It feels like it was just yesterday when I was running around campus, worried about exams, essays… but I never forgot your classes. You were always a different kind of professor. You didn’t just care about us understanding the material; you cared about how we thought. I’d never felt so listened to," you whispered, watching the leaves fall from the now-orange trees.

You were walking through an incredibly quiet neighborhood; it was almost just you and him.

"Well, you were a brilliant student. You always asked questions that made me think, and that doesn’t happen often."

Oh, that validation. It felt like an elixir running through your veins.

“Was it just my imagination, or was I your favorite student?”

“It wouldn’t be ethical to say.”

“I’m not your student anymore, so you can be completely honest with me.”

Spencer shifted slightly, as if mulling over your words. You were right; you weren’t his student anymore, and he needed to stop seeing you as such.

“I wouldn’t say there was favoritism, but I particularly enjoyed working with you. You were very dedicated, your work was always flawless, and you always asked how you could improve. I think it was just that you were the kind of student every professor dreams of having.”

“Oh, Doctor Reid, I’m blushing,” you joked, though you couldn’t help the flirty tone that slipped in. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d met under different circumstances. If I hadn’t been in college, as your student.”

It was a subtle but significant statement.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… you’re such an interesting person, and sometimes I wish I’d met you in a less formal setting. Maybe we could’ve been friends.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if weighing your words. His lips curved into a faint smile before his gaze turned more serious, as if allowing himself to be vulnerable, if only for a second.

“You know, I’m not sure we could’ve been just friends,” he confessed, his voice soft, almost a whisper that the wind could’ve carried away at any moment. “You were always more than just an outstanding student. You made me question things I thought I had all figured out.”

Your heart skipped a beat at those words. It was like he was finally opening that door both of you had kept closed for so long. The world around you seemed to fall silent, wrapping you in a bubble where only your gazes and the sound of your shallow breaths existed.

"Really?" you smiled, trying not to let on just how deeply his words affected you. “I always thought I was just another student to you, but… you always felt like someone special to me. Like… like everything I did only made sense because you were there, listening.”

Spencer laughed softly, a laugh that almost sounded nervous, as if he himself were processing his feelings.

"Maybe you see me as someone who has all the answers, but if you knew how many times I tried to avoid… what I was feeling."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, as if afraid to expose too much. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and everything around you spun.

“Sometimes I wondered if I was just imagining it.”

“No, you weren’t imagining it. It wasn’t easy for me. I knew I was crossing an emotional boundary, even though I never let it go further. There was an attraction, of course. But it was my responsibility to stay professional. I couldn’t fail you in that.”

The tension between you grew with every step you took. The street seemed to stretch endlessly as both of you searched for the right words to express what you really felt. Minutes passed, but the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, each second you shared without speaking seemed to fill the air with emotions that didn’t need explaining. And yet, deep down, you knew that time was running out. In the distance, you could already see the entrance to the metro station.

“You know, I never thought seeing you again after so long would affect me this much,” you said finally, not daring to look at him, as if admitting it in a low voice made you feel safer. He watched you with a mixture of tenderness and uncertainty.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d feel this way, either. I’d convinced myself that… that what I felt was simply admiration.”

His words made you stop, looking into his eyes with a surprised expression. It was a gesture that denoted an unusual transparency in him, as if he felt more vulnerable than he was willing to admit.

“Admiration?” you smiled, though you felt a pressure in your chest you could hardly bear. “And now? What do you feel now, Spencer?”

Spencer. He was no longer your professor; he was simply Spencer.

He lowered his gaze, searching for words he’d likely been repressing for years. The sound of his unsteady breathing was all you heard before he spoke again, in a voice low but clear.

“What I feel now… I don’t think there’s an easy word for it. But it’s something I thought I’d never have to confront.”

You were taken aback by that confession, but it filled you with such a wave of relief that it almost made you dizzy. You felt vulnerable, exposed, but also free. You decided it was time to stop measuring your words, to stop being afraid.

“Spencer, I… I fell in love with you when I was still in college. I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass. But I carried you in my mind, in my memories. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I graduated. And now I can’t deny that, even after all these years, I still love you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if processing everything you had just said. When he looked at you again, his eyes were like a deep ocean of emotions, and you couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had stopped around you.

“What about your boyfriend?”

You didn’t want to ask how he’d picked up on that. But in the end, denying it would’ve been useless.

“My life hasn’t turned out the way I expected. I’m in a relationship that doesn’t fulfill me, and when I compare it to what I felt with you, even though nothing happened, I realize how empty it feels now. It’s like… I don’t know, like I’m just settling.”

You were still standing on the sidewalk. The wind brushed softly against your ears.

“It’s hard when you realize what you have isn’t what you thought it would be. Comfort isn’t enough; you want something deeper, something meaningful. And sometimes, I feel just as lost. My career has been my life for so long that, even though I’m successful, there are moments when I wonder if I’ve missed out on something important. Something I may never have. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s too late.”

You felt like you were going to throw up. All you wanted was for it to end, for him to lean in and kiss you.

You took a step forward.

“There’s nothing between us now. I’m no longer your student.”

"I’ve thought about that. But it wasn’t just the fact that you were my student. The age gap also complicated things. I mean, I’m fifteen years older than you. I couldn’t ignore how inappropriate that would’ve been."

“Fifteen years… yeah, that’s quite a bit. But I don’t think that would’ve mattered so much if we hadn’t been in the situation we were in.”

“It’s not just that, sweetheart,” sweetheart. “You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, full of possibilities. I couldn’t allow myself… to interfere with that. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“You’re talking as if you’re condemning me to a life sentence. And it’s not like that.”

Spencer took a deep breath, holding eye contact for a moment before speaking honestly.

“Still, the age difference will always be there.”

“What are you worried about? What people might think?”

“It’s not just that, but how it would affect you in the long term. A fifteen-year age gap can be a chasm.”

“Maybe. But connections don’t always follow set rules. What I felt then was real. What I feel now is real, too. And I don’t think age changes that.”

Were you seriously confessing your love to this man on that street? After seeing him again for less than an hour? Were you really that desperate for him?

In theory, he had already confessed to you. And that was only proof of how much you both had longed for each other, despite the years that had passed.

In a bold move, you took another step toward him. Your hands reached up to his cheeks, and he felt like he was out of breath.

“You’re an extraordinary man, Spencer. You’re gentle, intelligent, you’re a gentleman, you’re… you’re like a dream. And any woman would be lucky to have you. But if you don’t want me to be that woman, I respect that.”

“Don’t do that,” he groaned. Your fingers felt like fire burning his skin. “Don’t make me say something that isn’t true.”

“Sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time. You want that family, you want to experience everything you missed out on. I want security, attention… I want you.”

He closed his eyes, defeated. A storm of emotions swirled within him.

“We need to take this slow; it’s… it’s a lot to process.”

You nodded and stepped back. For a moment, he thought he’d made a mistake, especially when he was met with the coldness of his skin now that you weren’t touching him. But a second later, you handed him your phone.

“Give me your number. After we’ve both had time to think about this, you’ll call me, and we’ll go out to dinner. If you’re not sure, we’ll just go our separate ways. If you are… we’ll decide what to do.”

It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command. There was no room for argument.

He typed in the digits, almost trembling with nerves, and felt ridiculous for showing himself so vulnerable in front of you. But you were breaking down every ethical boundary he believed he had; dating a former student… what kind of person did that make him?

However, as he returned your phone and looked at you, he realized that you were no longer a child. He was not taking advantage of you at all; you were an adult capable of making your own decisions. And you were choosing him. Above everyone else, he was the one you wanted.

You called, and Reid's barely modern phone vibrated in his pocket, signaling that he now had your number too. Spencer watched you with a mix of nostalgia and resolve, as if this were the last second before the world began to spin again and forced them back into their lives.

Finally, he sighed, lowering his gaze slightly, as if he wanted to hide a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he said quietly, with a sincerity that broke your heart. "I don’t know if it’s fair that, after so long, we reopen this door just to risk things not working out."

"We’ll never know if we don’t try," you whispered, trying to stay calm.

He nodded slowly, processing your words, and then, very slowly, took a step toward you, getting close enough for the murmur of his voice to be almost a whisper next to your ear.

"Okay," was all he managed to say. His eyes reflected the same longing and uncertainty that you felt inside.

You walked in silence to the station, and once there, there was no verbal goodbye. You simply moved closer to him, wrapped him in a hug, and he responded with a deep kiss on the cheek.

He went to the right. You went to the left.

Once you were seated on the subway, you felt your phone vibrate with a message.

Hi. I’m Spencer. Please keep in touch. I don’t want to miss you.

And all the way home, you smiled.

[kunikuyu]

Until he gets tired.

Heian Era! Ryomen Sukuna x Male! Reader

Warnings: 🕊️ DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. Dom! sukuna, sub! reader. reader is simply crazy. Size kink, cut play, mention of the term 'sex slave', dub-con, sex even when passed out, bulge in the belly, begging, abusive relationship, words written intentionally wrong, sukuna has two dicks, fainting, monster romance (for obvious reasons). DNI MINORS.

Summary: Being Sukuna's partner is something completely insane. Aside from the fact that Sukuna is incapable of loving anyone, he seems to take a twisted pleasure in hurting his partners. Every night, [Name] knows that the next day, he will wake up completely destroyed.

The climate was pleasant. Not too cold, not too hot, a gentle breeze blew through the walls and windows of Sukuna's temple. But what made everything scary and strange were the screams that came from inside.

Today was a special day. [Name] and Sukuna, the king of curses, had completed a hundred years together, as partners. Normally no one would celebrate this, since... Who would want to stand next to Sukuna? No one would be crazy enough to do that.

But, [Name] is.

"Uhm~ 'Kuna..."

The ancient sorcerer purrs. [Name] was sitting in the lap of the curse, skin completely exposed for anyone to see, but protected so no one can touch. And of course no one would touch, who would even dare to come close to the one who is so 'well taken care of' by Ryomen Sukuna. His chest was already completely red and full of small cuts, which were leaking almost invisible drops of blood. He didn't even know how he managed to stay awake anymore, it seemed simply impossible not to pass out there. Not because of the small and insignificant loss of blood, but rather for the pain in his lower parts.

[Name] couldn't move, couldn't even dare breathe wrong, if he didn't want to get slapped in the face. It seemed like an impossible task, and it really was, since Sukuna's dick wasn't just anything, or just an organ. It was big, ridiculously big, it seemed like a joke to imagine that it could fit on someone. So much so that only the cockhead managed to enter the sorcerer's body.

But Sukuna didn't care at all, of course not. He smiled when he saw his flushed face, expressing pain and clearly distorted pleasure. And instead of helping, he only makes the situation worse, squeezing hard around [Name]'s entire length so that he's unable to cum. This felt more like a punishment than a reward for staying by his side for so long.

"Such a dirty little whore... Are you that used to it? Don't you even scream in desperation for me to get out of you? I don't know if I find this interesting or pathetic." He says, with his typical arrogant and self-centered tone.

Deciding that he would take things more seriously, the King of Curses pulls [Name]'s hands close enough to him, so that the younger man is completely lying on top of Sukuna, being the perfect target for the all-out aggression the older man has in mind. He liked seeing his partner like this, but he much preferred seeing him screaming and crying because he couldn't handle his dick.

[Name] lets out a howl of pain as his severed chest is thrown hard against Sukuna's chest. It was like a thousand needles going into his skin because of the small cuts located in the area, but he still managed to find pleasure in the pain.

"Sukuna...! That hurts...!"

"I know."

Suddenly, agonizing screams of pain can be heard from far away. The screams were definitely from [Name], who was now being fucked mercilessly. He drooled against the other man's shoulder while still going through the trouble of jerking off his other cock. It was always so painful, the older man's balls aggressively slapped his ass, while his dick reached the deepest layer of his body, crushing his prostate with ease.

"Stop, please!~ Sho painf- ah!"

He doesn't even have time to complain before another of Sukuna's tricks is revealed. The two bodies completely glued together served so that the mouth on the monster-man's stomach could willingly take in [Name]'s red and swollen cock. He doesn't even know what to feel. It hurts, but he's about to cum!

And...

...To faint...

This lasts all night, and several times, [Name] even faints. It didn't end until Sukuna got tired, and he could never easily get tired of his beloved sex slave. When [Name] wakes up in the morning, a small pool of blood was formed on his bed, and next to the bed, a calm and silent Sukuna was cleaning his own body, which was dirty with fluids from both of them. When looking at his body, the sorcerer realizes that his chest was no longer the only thing that was bleeding, but his entire body. His belly was even full, certainly from Sukuna's loads of cum, which were clearly not few. He can barely stay awake for long before passing out again from exhaustion and blood loss.

[venus-haze]

Your Name in Lights - Chapter 1 (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for your big break, co-starring in one of Soldier Boy's movies and the undeniable chemistry the two of you have on- and off-set. [AO3 Link | Masterlist]

Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. I left the time period intentionally ambiguous, but it has some '50s/'60s classic Hollywood vibes. The actress you're replacing and the director are made up for this fic.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny. Implied age gap. Power imbalance. Soldier Boy is his own warning.

Sweat gathered at your brow under the bright studio lights, and you hoped it wouldn't show in the costume test photos being taken. You turned to the side at the photographer's direction, wondering what the hell you were even testing for in the first place. Your manager had called you at nearly five in the morning, telling you to come to the studio right away, because if you didn't, some other starlet would get the part. Practically everyone in the room looked stressed, from the costume designer with her furrowed brow to her assistant, hovering near the clothing rack.

"I'm sorry," you began, taking the dress that was handed to you once your navy blue sweater-skirt combo was adequately documented. Sleek, black, with a slit up the side. Obviously for a nightclub scene. You hadn't done many of those. "What movie is this for, again?"

"The latest Soldier Boy picture," your manager Frank said, following you behind the privacy screen toward the back of the room to help you into the dress. You'd long since foregone any sense of modesty around him, the only person looking out for you in Tinseltown.

"In what role?" You wiggled into the dress and peeked around the screen. "This is gonna have to be taken in around the bust."

"Are you kidding? You're the leading lady," he said, zipping up the dress for you.

Your eyes widened. "What happened to Olivia Yearly? I heard months ago that she was cast in Soldier Boy's latest picture."

"Stormed off set and quit. She's a real diva."

"But she's Olivia Yearly, and I'm—"

"You're gonna be a hundred Olivia Yearlys if you play your cards right with this one."

"I haven't even auditioned or done a screen test. How did they find me?"

"Audiences liked you in your last few pictures. It was the people over at Vought who wanted to take a chance on you," Frank said, letting you steady yourself on his shoulder as you slipped on the heels that accompanied the dress. Of course Vought had the muscle to get just about any studio to lend out their stars to them, who could pass up being in a movie with a superhero? "Besides, this way Soldier Boy won't have to share top billing, and obviously you won't be getting an Olivia Yearly salary, so it's a win-win for them."

"Frank—"

"Don't worry, kid, you're not getting stiffed."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"They only filmed two scenes, small ones, from what I've heard, so it's not a big reshoot. You'll get the script this afternoon, the writers are changing a few things, a little less femme fatale, you know? I told them that's not your image."

You sighed. That wasn't your worry either, but Frank already had his mind made up. You'd only recently gotten fourth or fifth billing in your movies. Soldier Boy had been America's favorite leading man and a guaranteed box office draw for as long as he'd been on screen. It'd be a big break for you, the kind you always dreamed of. "Okay, let's give it a shot."

"Attagirl."

The script you received wasn't the most imaginative or groundbreaking, but it was good, a solid film noir that softened its femme fatale lead, the sultry Laura becoming the ingenue Laurie to accommodate introducing you to a wider audience next to Soldier Boy of all people. A sweet girl who'd become his partner and confidant as the plot progressed, eventually his lover by the end of the film. After all, Soldier Boy always got the girl.

From the moment he stepped into your powder pink dressing room, any notions you may have had about your co-star's clean-cut persona went out the window. The smell of marijuana took you aback. You recognized it, knew to stay the hell away from it unless you wanted a scandal that ended your career before it even began.

Still, you tried to be gracious and courteous, thanked him for taking a chance on you, let yourself giggle at the compliment he threw your way about how the makeup artist wasn't going to have a thing to do as long as you were in the picture. Except he steered the conversation clear off course. You supposed he expected you to be more naive than you let on, but you'd been around the industry to know better, tried to stay as professional as possible even though he kept pushing it.

"You know, if you ever wanna run lines, just you and me, I got a suite up at the Chateau Marmont," he said. "All the privacy you could want, get to know each other better."

"That won't be necessary," you said as politely as you could. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Are you a virgin?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's either that, or you're frigid as hell. I can relieve whatever your issue is, sweetheart. You just say the word."

Your face heated up, and you turned away from him. "I'd like you to go now, please."

"Suit yourself," he said. "See you on set."

As soon as you heard the door shut, you reached for the glass of ice water on your vanity with a shaky hand and brought it to your forehead, staring at your bewildered expression in the brightly lit mirror in front of you.

No wonder Olivia Yearly quit, though you didn't dare imagine what he could've possibly said to her. But you had to try, if not for your own career, then for Frank's sake. He believed in you, even when you were just starting out in an industry that you'd seen cannibalize so many others. He must have pulled some impossible strings just to get you this role. You weren't going to let an unpleasant co-star ruin the opportunity of a lifetime.

Except he almost did, as you faltered ad fumbled your way through your scenes with him that first day. Frustration radiated off of the crew, and every time award-winning director Julian Garrett yelled 'cut', he sounded tired, as if he wondered if the movie were ever going to be made. They were all doing you a favor, especially the people at Vought, giving you a chance, and you had yet to prove you earned it. You knew if you didn't get it together, you wouldn't have another chance to.

Standing next to Soldier Boy by the facade of a made-up bar, you pushed your hair out of your face as a giant fan just out of frame kicked on to fabricate a windy night. The chill, the uncertainty, the tension, all set up perfectly for the scene.

"Haven't you ever had that feeling? Where you know something's not right, but you can't explain why?"

He nodded. "Sure I have, it's what's gotten me this far."

"Then you have to trust me, Soldier Boy," you implored. "Something about Everhart's plan doesn't seem right—seem on the level—"

"Cut!" Julian yelled.

Soldier Boy turned to the representative from Vought, hovering on set, probably a lawyer to cover any liabilities after the Olivia Yearly situation. "This is what you get for hiring some fresh piece of ass who doesn't know what she's doing."

Your hands balled into fists at your side. He said what everyone was surely thinking after having to start the scene over for the dozenth time, but it still hurt to hear. "I'll have you know my ass and I know exactly what we're doing!" you snapped. "Let's start from the top, Mr. Garrett. I'll get it this time."

The director sighed. "Alright, one more time."

When you turned back to face Soldier Boy, you caught a glimpse of his smile before it fell from his face in preparation for the scene.

The tension between you and everyone else on set fizzled out as you spoke, finally finding the sweet spot where you could match Soldier Boy's energy, your determination to succeed and prove him wrong far exceeding how intimidating you found your co-star until then.

"I really hope it won't take so long to get a performance like that out of you tomorrow," Julian said, looking relaxed for the first time all day.

"It won't. I promise."

"Better not," Soldier Boy muttered.

You kept your word, ran through your lines every night until you could hardly keep your eyes open, showed up on set early, even when Soldier Boy was an hour or two late, started getting on people's good sides, or maybe they were finally recognizing your potential now that you were only having to do two or three takes of each scene.

Despite your rocky start and the trepidation you felt about him, there was no denying Soldier Boy's charisma, how easy it was for you to play off of it. Then, between takes, he was more amicable, though you doubted his intentions were as mundane as wanting to get along with his coworker. But you found yourself flirting back when he did, telling yourself it was to keep up the chemistry between your characters rolling, even when the cameras weren't. Frank even told you over dinner one evening that industry chatter had already begun talking you up as the find of the year, whispers of your chemistry with Soldier Boy already drowning out the drama with his previous co-star.

During the second week of filming, the lawyer from Vought had pulled you aside to let you know someone from one of the big Hollywood gossip columns was going to be on set that week. You figured someone from Hedda Hopper's outfit, as she sung Soldier Boy's praises in her articles, though you read both her and Louella Parsons' columns religiously, especially after you were cast in the current picture, and public interest in you piqued. He didn't tell you about it to keep you informed, but rather to warn you to keep your mouth shut if you wanted your career to stay on the upward trajectory it was going.

You tried not to look at the unfamiliar woman too much, cigarette dangling from her lips, notepad and pen in hand, writing a sentence or two every so often. Her face was unreadable, but you tried not to let it get to you, not when the next scene was so important.

Outside of the same bar facade where you finally found your place in the film, you stood as Laurie in the black and white houndstooth coat you'd come to love, preparing to distract the two-faced Everhart so Soldier Boy could gather intel, the first big step in foiling his enemy's plan. Laurie was being thrown to the wolves.

"Soldier Boy," you simpered, "I don't know if I can do this without you."

"Laurie—"

Your eyes glistened with tears, voice breaking ever so softly as you placed a manicured hand on his chest. "No, I don't want to do this without you."

He took you in his arms and kissed you, deeply enough that you had to steady yourself on his biceps, that certainly wasn't in the script, but no one seemed to mind. "Be brave for me, honey," he husked against your lips.

"I'll try."

Again, his lips on yours, and you nearly lost yourself in his embrace until a loud "Cut!" tore through the scene.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from Soldier Boy. Your heart was racing. You could hardly gather the courage to look at him. It almost felt…real.

"Goddamn, I think that was it," Julian said.

"Should we do another take?" the assistant director asked.

"I don't know if we'll get anything better than that. Yeah, let's go through it one more time."

Out of the corner of your eye, the columnist scribbled frantically in her notepad.

The rest of the day, it seemed like you and Soldier Boy were on fire, requiring fewer takes as scenes grew tenser, more intimate—close-ups on yearning faces, the subtle brushing of hands, worried glances across the room. More than once, you felt your heart actually skip a beat when you made eye contact with him.

The movie magic dissolved by night, and a well-deserved day-off of filming awaited you in the morning—as did headlines that screamed of the latest Hollywood romance, spurred on by a photo the columnist had taken the day before, Soldier Boy and Starlet Sizzle on Set!

Starlet. You frowned. They couldn't have even bothered to use your name?

Small potatoes, Frank assured you over the phone when you called him about the papers, soon enough, your name would be in lights.

Vought was certainly pleased with the way you stole the focus from Soldier Boy's beef with his former co-star, all eyes on the two of you with just murmurs of undeniable chemistry.

"So, how does dinner sound? Anywhere you want," Frank said.

"Anywhere?"

"Sure, you're the talk of the town. Long as Soldier Boy's with you."

"Tell him it's his choice," you said. You'd make the most of the good press as you could, play his game within reason if it meant finally getting somewhere in your career.

"Alright, well, he'll probably pick you up around eight."

"Here?" You glanced around your modest apartment. Decently furnished for when you had a few friends over for drinks, though the striped wallpaper was peeling, and you were more than used to the smell of mothballs that permeated the air. "No, Frank, that won't do. Have him pick me up at your office downtown."

"You got it," your manager said before hanging up the phone.

By the time Soldier Boy picked you up, you'd already helped yourself to some of the bourbon you knew Frank kept in his office to settle your nerves. The drive wasn't too bad, he wasn't as handsy as you were anticipating, a bit disappointing, if you were being honest with yourself.

Somehow, word of your and Soldier Boy's date was leaked ahead of time, a crowd of fans and reporters waiting outside of the nightclub for your arrival. Its simple, sleek white facade would've been classy if not for the giant neon palm tree sign next to the actual palm trees.

You offered your best smile for the cameras, played up your relationship with Soldier Boy, giving him a kiss on the cheek and practically clinging to his side.

"It's been such a dream working with him," you told one reporter. "I couldn't ask for a better leading man."

As for whether or not the rumors of romance were true, "A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Soldier Boy said, his arm around your waist as he finally ushered you inside. The gaudy, tropical-inspired decor throughout the club was almost tacky, but you supposed it had a certain charm to it.

Sitting down in the booth reserved for the two of you, you felt like you just finished running a marathon as you settled into the plush red upholstery.

Soldier Boy looked at you, amused, "Just wait 'til the movie actually comes out, sweetheart."

A waiter arrived, asking if you'd like to start with drinks or hear the specials first.

"What're you drinking?" Soldier Boy asked.

"Bourbon, neat," you said.

"Make that two." He turned to you, his green eyes giving you a once-over, as if regarding you differently than he had before. "I wouldn't peg you as a bourbon girl."

"It's what was in my manager's office earlier," you said, quickly adding, "I don't make it a habit."

He nodded. "Good girl."

You didn't know whether or not to be grateful when the waiter arrived with your drinks, giving you an excuse to look away from him for a moment, flustered by the simple praise.

Soldier Boy waved him off after the glasses were set down, claiming you needed more time to look at the menu.

"Look, I know we didn't start on the best foot," he began, almost reluctantly, "but you're not half bad. And you kiss like you mean it. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to kiss a broad for a scene and might as well have been kissing cardboard."

"So I'm not frigid?"

He chuckled. "Hell no."

The two of you so engrossed in conversation, you'd forgotten to even look at the menu when the waiter returned, and Soldier Boy ended up ordering for you—as soon as the two of you were alone again, he muttered something about the drinks being the only thing worth going to the place for. The dry baked potato and rubbery steak presented to you on an otherwise gorgeous plate proved him right, and you tried your best to pick at your food without too much of a puss on your face.

Drinks kept flowing, and you switched from bourbon to your usual order, though Soldier Boy was outpacing you by a mile.

"How are you not plastered?" you asked.

"Takes about three times as much alcohol to get me drunk than a normal person."

"What's it like, being a superhero? I mean, I've met plenty of other actors, but no one like you," you said.

"It's a lot of responsibility," he began, his canned answer disappointing you a bit, "from the day I was born I had these powers, I don't know why it was me over anyone else, but I have to use them to help people, to do good."

"But what does it feel like? Some kind of adrenaline rush coursing through your veins? Is it something that just happens?"

"You asking if being a supe gets me hard?"

Your face heated up, "No, not like that, I mean—"

"I don't get whisky dick, I can promise you that, sweetheart."

"Have you ever heard of subtlety?"

He shook his head. "That's the limit of my powers. I can do everything but fly and be subtle."

Despite yourself, you laughed. Maybe it was the drinks, or finally having a chance to talk to Soldier Boy outside of a professional setting let you scratch just beneath the surface of the world's first superhero. Since his debut, when the country was in desperate need of a superhero like him, there had been other supes, each with unique powers, but none inspired the awe that he did.

Over the course of the conversation, he moved in closer to you, your space becoming his until you finished your drink, and he managed to talk you into just one more, his hand squeezing your thigh.

"The table service takes too long, I don't mind going up to the bar," you said.

He shrugged, and you took that as permission to go ahead as you slid out of the booth. Not quite steady on your feet, you made it to the bar in one piece, feeling light as you told the bartender your orders.

The bar's polished surface allowed you to see your reflection—and Olivia Yearly's, right next to you. Striking black hair with hardly a strand out of place, green eyes practically made for technicolor, and her signature pouty red lips, you tried not to swoon at the sight of her. She didn't pay any attention to you, of course she wouldn't, she had no real reason to, until you forced yourself to speak up and say something to one of your idols.

"Miss Yearly? I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm such a big fan," you said.

"Thank you. It's always nice to—" She raised a neatly plucked eyebrow. "Hold on, you're that new girl, the one in the Soldier Boy picture, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"He hasn't scared you off yet? You can't be that desperate for a job."

"Soldier Boy's been a wonderful co-star," you said.

She scoffed, her upper lip curling in a sneer. "How much is Vought paying you to say that? He's the most shameless, unprofessional man I've ever had the displeasure of sharing a sound stage with, and I've been on a lot."

"I know, I've seen almost all of your movies," you confessed quietly.

"Then take my advice, stay the hell away from him, and that company, too."

"What did he even do—"

"Olivia," Soldier Boy said coldly, appearing at your side unexpectedly. "Surprised the place made an exception to its 'no hag' policy for you."

You nearly gasped. Olivia Yearly was a star. A goddess. An institution. Definitely not a—

"Hag? Who the hell do you think you're talking to you fucking—"

"Just shove it, Liv."

"You're digging your damn grave if you stick around the sorry likes of him," she shot at you before storming off.

He scowled, moving so he blocked her retreating figure from your line of sight. "Whatever that bitch told you about me—she's gonna be old news as soon as they see you on that screen. That’s why she's trying to scare you."

"Do you really think so?" you asked, trying to ignore the doubt that crept up on you.

"She sure as hell couldn't kiss like you can."

As if to prove it, he leaned in, his plush lips pressed against yours, the same sparks you felt on set flying between you. His hands on your hips, soft and strong as he pulled you closer, something like that couldn't be faked, not so naturally as the two of you seemed to do. Almost couldn't help but lose yourself in his embrace—until a camera flashed in your peripheral vision, tearing you from the intimacy of the kiss and reminding you that you were only there with him for publicity. You wondered if it could ever be anything more.

Taglist: @waynes-multiverse @youdontknowe @sl33pylilbunny @ladykitana90 @urmomissuperhotsworld @riah1606

[risuola]

HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words

a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.

It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.

"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.

You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.

Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.

"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."

"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.

"You can't do what?"

"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.

"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."

"Of course you do..."

"What is the source of your pain?"

"My head hurts. So fucking bad."

"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.

"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."

"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."

"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."

"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"

"Kindness would be a good look on you."

"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.

"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."

"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"

"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."

"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."

"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."

It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.

"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."

"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."

"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"

"Being nice doesn't hold any power."

"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"

"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."

"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"

"Oh, you're pushing your luck."

"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.

"And now you plan to ignore me?"

With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.

Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.

"What now?"

"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"

"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."

"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."

Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.

"What on earth are you doin-"

"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."

And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.

"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.

"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.

"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."

"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.

"Remember my advice?"

"Yup."

You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.

His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.

"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Your head, does it hurt?"

"No... You asked him for it?"

"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."

"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.

"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."

Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.

So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.

[fellthemarvelous]

How can you be on the council and not be a master?

I need to stop looking at Star Wars TikTok posts because I guess the concept of personal accountability is lost on so many people.

I love Anakin Skywalker. I do. I think he is one of the best fictional characters ever created because he is so fucking complex. I love him for all the good he did and in spite of all the bad things he did as Darth Vader. In the end, he sacrificed his own life to save his son.

That's the thing that's killing me right now.

People want to blame everyone else except for Anakin for the choices he made. They want to blame the Jedi because the Jedi don't strictly adhere to their vision of love and are therefore responsible for why Anakin fell to the dark side.

I saw a few comments where someone blamed the Jedi (specifically Obi-Wan), blamed the council, blamed Ahsoka because she left him, blamed Padme (because if we can't blame female characters for something then what are we even doing, right?), blamed the Jedi for not trusting him (and therefore somehow preventing him from believing in himself), and then at the end was like...oh and I guess Palpatine too since he groomed him for 13 years.

First of all, why is it a chore to blame Palpatine for Anakin's problems but so easy to blame the Jedi?

Imagine the heartbreak Anakin felt when he learned that the man who spent 13 years mentoring him turned out to be the Sith lord the Jedi had been searching for. That's reason enough to be angry at Palpatine because it was Palpatine who broke Anakin's spirit.

Secondly, not one of these people is responsible for Anakin's actions. Not one of them. Not even Palpatine. That's why it had to be Anakin's choice. Palpatine could not force him to fall, so he had to resort to manipulation and gaslighting to fuck with Anakin's head. He spent 13 years planting seeds of self-doubt and mistrust in the Jedi in Anakin's head. Because what happened when Palpatine assigned Anakin to the Jedi council despite having zero authority to do so??

"How can you be on the council and not be a master?"

The Jedi Council would like to ask Anakin the same question.

You have to be a Jedi master before you can be on the council.

Anakin became upset because he was denied the rank of master. It didn't occur to him at all that Palpatine intentionally placed him in that situation for that exact reason. Palpatine knew the Jedi well, and he knew how they would react. He knew it would lead the Jedi to asking Anakin to spy on him. He played the long game and it paid off.

The Jedi taught Anakin what they could, but they have no control over whether or not Anakin put the Jedi code into practice. The Jedi trusted Anakin. We saw them trust Anakin with their lives many many times during the Clone Wars.

They gave him a padawan for crying out loud. They looked at this 19-year-old, freshly knighted Jedi General and trusted him to mentor Ahsoka, a 14-year-old girl who was more advanced than everyone else her age. He's a vergence in the Force and they gave him a padawan who was already incredibly powerful. It's rare for Jedi to get their own padawans at such a young age, but Anakin was a Force prodigy and Ahsoka could have become a knight herself at 16 if she had not left the Order.

The Jedi trusted him. Until they didn't.

Anakin is the one who slaughtered an entire clan of Tusken Raiders in anger after the death of his mother. Even the women and the children. He killed all of them because he hated all of them and he was angry because he wasn't able to prevent his mother from dying in his arms. The only people who knew about that were Padme and Palpatine.

Anakin is the one who spent three years lying to the Jedi because he kept his relationship with Padme a secret from everyone (except Rex). He believed he could have it all if he tried hard enough, and trying to have it all is what lead to him losing everything when he chose to fall to the dark side, when he chose to sacrifice the galaxy for one person, only to lose her and his unborn child for good.

During the war, Ahsoka told Barriss that Anakin will always do what needs to be done, leaving out the part that includes the use of terror and torture. Barriss got to witness Anakin's rage personally when he figured out that she was the one who framed Ahsoka for treason.

We all saw how Luminara reacted to Ahsoka violently threatening Nute Gunray to get him to talk. She was horrified and immediately reprimanded Ahsoka because it is not the Jedi way to resort to terror. The Jedi were supposed to negotiate, not terrorize. And Anakin taught Ahsoka his version of aggressive negotiations. (And she hinted at the fact that she used aggressive negotiations against Morgan Elsbeth when Huyang questioned her about how she obtained the information to locate the map to Peridea and she told him that she did not follow Jedi protocol.)

When Anakin interrogated Poggle the Lesser during Brain Invaders, he physically hit Poggle before force choking him. He used brutality to get the answers he needed. Obi-Wan, Luminara and Ki-Adi all expressed concern over how he got Poggle to talk, and he wouldn't tell them what he did. What he did went against the Jedi code. He made that choice. No one else made it for him. He knows it was wrong. It's why he didn't answer their questions.

Yes, he was doing it because Ahsoka was in imminent danger and he needed to save her (and Barriss and the infected clones) and there wasn't enough time to negotiate with Poggle. Anakin did what an older brother would have done for his little sister, but she was also his padawan and he was her master. And it was very clear that Ahsoka was a lot like him.

It's not Anakin's fault that Ahsoka left the Jedi Order, but it is not Ahsoka's fault that Anakin fell. He was incapable of letting go of his padawan (he literally resurrected her from the dead on Mortis), which was an important part of the reason he was given a padawan in the first place. He had formed a strong attachment to her just as he had Padme and Obi-Wan and Rex and C-3PO and R2-D2.

His unwillingness to let go of his attachments is what caused him to fall. He was a Jedi, and Jedi are not supposed to form attachments. So when he betrayed the Jedi Order to save Padme's life, his fall to the dark side was a result of him giving into his hatred and his anger. He took his rage out on an entire galaxy for 25 years because he was unable to let go.

Attachment does not equal love.

Maul was attached to Obi-Wan and there was nothing loving about it. It was violent and many people died because of Maul's inability to let go of his anger and hatred for Obi-Wan.

The whole reason that Anakin gave into the dark side completely was because he fell for the trap. He believed he could use the dark side without letting it consume him, but the dark side is all about controlling others. He couldn't control Padme and he ended up force choking her. He couldn't control Ahsoka and she left. He couldn't control Obi-Wan and chose to fight against him instead of listening to Obi-Wan's pleas.

No one could save Anakin Skywalker from himself. He had to save himself from his own darkness.

Which he did, in the end, because he saw his son being tortured by Palpatine, and he realized what it meant to let go. He finally understood what he needed to do and accepted that he would have to give up his own life to do so.

It took him a long time to understand what it means to let go, because letting go isn't giving up. Letting go is about accepting that there are some things beyond his control.

The conversation he had with his mother on Mortis was key to helping him accept who he was in the end. "Your guilt does not define you. You define your guilt."

He knew he was going to die, but he died saving someone he loved, doing the right thing and ultimately returning balance to the Force. He accepted his destiny. He accepted responsibility for who he was as Anakin Skywalker and that Anakin Skywalker was also responsible for the actions of Darth Vader because they were one in the same.

It's the problem we see Ahsoka struggling with when she's with him in the World Between Worlds. She struggled with the knowledge that her master became a monster and worried about what that meant for her. She struggled to figure out who she would have become if she had not left the Order. She had to wrestle with her own darkness, and Anakin's final lesson to her also took a weight off her shoulders. It's why she's suddenly that same girl we saw at the beginning of the war. The one who always smiled and was always so sure of herself. She chose the light and it was reflected in the way she suddenly began wearing white, a contrast to what she'd been wearing decades.

It's understanding that she has control of her own destiny, whatever that might be, and that she gets to choose who she decides to be. Anakin chose to be a Jedi in the end, and he was able to pass a hard-learned lesson onto a padawan he loved like his own sister. He was still able to watch out for her in the end while teaching her one more time.

It's never too late to do the right thing, but it's Anakin who has to take responsibility for his actions instead of blaming everyone else for all of his problems.

Apparently that's a lesson a lot of fans need to learn too.

A question Star Wars has always asked us is "how far are you willing to go to save what you love?"

[darklinaforever]

Let me be clear.

Ellen's age is never stated in the Nosferatu movie. Even less so when she met Orlok.

It doesn't even say how many years passed between her meeting with Orlok and her meeting with Thomas in fact.

The term child is also often alternated with simply young in the movie.

Ellen's age is therefore intentionally ambiguous whether in the present or the past.

The temporality of the movie is also intentionally ambiguous.

Therefore, yes, you can interpret Ellen as being a literal child at the time she met Orlok if you want, but it is actually more likely that the words child and young are just used to express the fact that Ellen was young (not necessarily a child for our time or the era of the movie) with no real life experience and or simply naive at the time. Not that she was literally a child / a little girl.

It's common in movies and in various shows. When a character says themselves to have been a child, it doesn't mean that they literally / officially were ! Shit !

House of the Dragon is a very good example with Rhaenyra telling Daemon in episode 7 of season 1 that he abandoned her when she was only a child, knowing that she was canonically 19 years old when Daemon gone and that in addition we are in the feudal era, where you can marry very young (even before having your first period) and that the majority is 16 years old for girls officially.

I say it again, if the movie was supposed to show Ellen as a child without ambiguity, the temporality would have been clearer, the ages would have been clearly stated, and especially the actress would not have been the same for the opening scene.

Oh, and the film crew would also talk about this very important detail of Ellen who would have been a child when she met Orlok, except that no, generally speaking, they too simply use the term young to designate her at that time.

I'm tired of seeing people try to pretend that it's 100% true that Ellen was a little girl when she met Orlok. No, it's not true.

Officially, it's 50 / 50.

But unofficially, it's a safe bet that since the film's timeline is blurry, that the terms child and young are often alternated in the film and that the film crew from what I saw only used the term young to designate Ellen at the time she met Orlok, well that these terms in the film are there to simply reflect Ellen's naivety at the time she met Orlok, and was simply not yet married.

Knowing that in the Victorian era, a woman is generally still treated like a child while being married, I'll let you imagine when she simply wasn't...

Especially since I recall that Orlok represents Ellen's sexual awakening.

Generally translating in fiction for female characters concerned by the "sexual awakening" aspect of the female character's entry into her real life as a woman with her who therefore leaves the world of childhood. It's a classic. And the female character still doesn't need to be a literal child for this type of scenario.

Reylo in Star Wars is a very good example of that, with Rey experiencing a passage to adulthood thanks to her meeting with her soul mate and sexual awakening Kylo Ren / Ben Solo (the same thing happens on Kylo Ben side by the way).

Or again with Shuri and Namor in Wakanda Forever, Shuri experiencing a sexual awakening thanks to the character of Namor who will symbolically make her grow up, go from child to adult (while officially in age she is already an adult, but not emotionally / on a symbolic level).

So the fact that there is ambiguity about whether Ellen was a child or just young when she met Orlok could also just fit into this category of fictional trope. Namely, Orlok was the character made to allow Ellen to grow in various ways symbolically.

The fact is that Ellen could very well have been a teenager, young or more or less old (remember that at that time women were marriageable at 13 years old, the historical context is important) or already a young woman when she met Orlok. We can't know 100% but I would lean much more towards the second option, since the question of age is never really on the front of the stage in the film (ans Ellen is still considered as young in the film in the current time frame. Von franz literally referred to Ellen as a child in the scene when he first meets her and she is tied up. This is just further evidence that child or young is not a literal reference as Ellen is clearly not a child and married at the time), and not a real factor for the Orlok & Ellen relationship and especially his heart.

People try to create this classic scenario of the adult Orlok targeting a child Ellen to manipulate her as he pleases.

Except that's not the case.

Orlok wasn't interested in Ellen because she was young and easily manipulated. He was interested in her because she was like him, not of the living world, and she called to him. She is the enchantress who brought him into this world. They are connected by destiny. She brought him into this world and only she can take him out of it.

Orlok represents what society restricts in Ellen and prevents her from expressing. Her true desires that were considered evil in a woman at the time.

Seeing Orlok as Ellen's abuser from childhood to adulthood doesn't work on the overall message of the film.

Orlok is not Ellen's real abuser, but the society around her is.

It's all just told in a monstrous way because we're in a horror film who telling a gothic romance.

That was my rant.