#a person who doesn’t have those disgusting feelings and emotions

[genderqueerdykes]

“Oh you’re just angry when the disgusting trannies you secretly think are men in dresses are standing up for themselves instead of letting you treat us like doormats” is a thing i see a lot, like no. I wish i had the guts to say “You can stand up for yourself and assert yourself without being an absolute bellend about it, and also way to make hard fast (and incorrect) assumptions about me and my thoughts on my trans sisters just because I said you should not immediately jump to assuming harm or being a standoffish bellend when you can handle things with more tact and emotional control than immediate aggression if not for yourself then for your reputation and those around you” aloud without being so afraid of being labelled a bitchy whiny “tme” (see: one slip from saying the quiet part aloud and calling me a hormonal woman) “upset he’s not the centre of the universe for once” by people who intentionally and maliciously misinterpret what I say for the sake of finding a devil in the details that isn’t there.

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense, I’m just overall tired of the rising culture of “you can be an asshole to people right out the gate if they’re wrong about something or say something hurtful” that’s prevalent not just in trans spaces but in the internet as a whole. People have conflated assertiveness and self-assurance with being an outright jerk and it makes it next to impossible to communicate anything with anyone without being fucking terrified of a bad actor or coming across wrong and not being given the room to elaborate.

Thank you so much for sending this. I really appreciate it because I agree 100% with this. I've had this exact same feeling for a long time as well.

My issue right now with our communities is not the fact that other trans women are speaking up for themselves, but rather that we've created and environment where being transfem and/or a trans woman means you have the right to be an actual asshole, and that you don't have to hold back from being cruel to other people, even other queer people, if something makes you even slightly emotional or upset. It's gotten to a point where so many transfems will instantly react by screaming and telling other people to shut up and to stop talking and that they are speaking out of turn. it's the default at this point. So many transfems are struggling with this right now. I understand it comes from a place of hurt, but it doesn't make it right.

It's happening in REAL LIFE, too, this is NOT isolated to online communities. A lot of transfems and trans women are fairly heavy internet users, so this behavior exists in both realms. I have experienced this in real life, in person, so it's a huge deal. I've had transfems scream at me for no reason other than I was crying. I've gotten screamed at for crying and being emotional.

We have to call it what it is finally and admit that we're allowing certain transfems and trans women to go way too far and hurt and shut up other people for literally no reason. We're allowing transfems and trans women a pass to be rude assholes for no good reason. No one should be getting a pass to do that. No gender or other queer gives you a pass to be an asshole. No gender or other queer identity gives you a pass to refuse to listen to other queer people and quite literally talk over them. being an asshole doesn't win people over, it just isolates you even more.

By constantly complaining about how transmascs and trans men and intersex people are "talking over us" and trying our hardest to shut them up so we can keep talking, we are the ones who are silencing other people and making the conversation about us all the time. We really are going through an "I am feel upset when we are not about me?" crisis right now in the trans community, and I'm going to break it to every other transfem and trans woman, but it's not trans men who are doing this right now. it's just not. sure there are trans men on a small scale who do it, but we are seeing a large scale effort to actively silence trans men. We are the ones talking over people, and yes it matters. Yes we have to accept criticism for this. Attacking someone and instantly telling them to shut up because the conversation shifted away from yourself is talking over someone else. We are literally talking over trans men and mascs right now. We are the ones doing it on a large scale.

“You can stand up for yourself and assert yourself without being an absolute bellend about it, and also way to make hard fast (and incorrect) assumptions about me and my thoughts on my trans sisters just because I said you should not immediately jump to assuming harm or being a standoffish bellend when you can handle things with more tact and emotional control than immediate aggression if not for yourself then for your reputation and those around you” aloud without being so afraid of being labelled a bitchy whiny “tme” (see: one slip from saying the quiet part aloud and calling me a hormonal woman) “upset he’s not the centre of the universe for once” by people who intentionally and maliciously misinterpret what I say for the sake of finding a devil in the details that isn’t there.

Thank you for this. It's not all transfems and trans women doing this, I will gladly say that. But those who are are showing these behaviors and these behaviors are not only toxic, genuinely damaging, but projection. It's all projection and it's genuinely painful to watch because these specific individuals do not realize that's what they're doing.

The behaviors in question that are genuinely a problem & danger are:

Instantly making negative assumptions about transmascs & trans mens' opinions on transfems and trans women, forcing the transmasc and/or trans man to have to defend themselves, instantly creating hostility and tension from the start of the interaction. This is negging, catastrophizing & black and white thinking.

The transfem and/or trans woman in the situation is expecting the other party to regulate their emotions for them. I've spoken with my therapist about this on a grander scale outside of just transfems and trans women and she told me most people expect others to validate and regulate their emotions for them. This is an extreme example of that behavior.

Demanding control of the situation due to thinking that they/all transfems or trans women are smarter than men, which is just bioessentialism copied and pasted.

Instantaneous misogyny and bioessentialism the second the transfem and/or trans woman finds out someone is a trans man, transmasc, AFAB trans person, AFAB genderqueer, nonbinary, gnc or other gender non conforming person, or intersex person with a vagina. This is one of the biggest issues we are facing in the community right now. A lot of transfems & trans women have tons of internalized misogyny and bioessentialism to get over, and this is an extreme example of that. Not all trans women and transfems believe these things, but the ones participating in these behaviors are struggling hard with internalized misogyny and bio/gender essentialism.

Instantly jumping to calling an AFAB trans person, trans man, transmasc, or other ""TME"" whiny or bitchy is deeply misogynistic. Viewing people with vaginas or who you perceive to have a vagina as bitchy or whiny is an extremely common form of misogyny that's present in cis women as well. Cis women who speak up for themselves are called bitchy. Cis women and trans men who have strong emotions are called whiny. As you pointed out, the logic is quite literally one step away from calling the trans man, trans masc, or other queer person in this group a "hysterical/hormonal woman".

Believing that one is smarter than the other if they have a penis, and the other person has a vagina. The tendency to treat people with vaginas as too stupid to think for themselves, weak, or lying stems from misogyny and toxic masculinity, and yes, transfems and trans women can still hold toxic masculine beliefs and behaviors. No one is immune to toxic masculinity. This is also bioessentialism.

When I moved into a local punk house because I was homeless, a lot of the people who came there frequently and lived there liked me a lot. Flirting with me, trying to hang out with me as much as they could, listening to everything i said, asking for my opinion on things. People had no issues with talking to me and were not rude at all. However, once my trans GF at the time found out I don't have a penis yet, and I have a vagina, she instantly started treating me different. The news spread and soon everyone was treating me differently.

I was now getting talked down to. I was now having my gender mocked and questioned. I was having my disabilities questioned. I was being questioned if I was faking my DID or Schizophrenia even though that never came up before. suddenly, out of nowhere, I was being told by the cis gay man and the amab trans girl i lived with that t hey had "never seen me in a psychotic or dissociative episode" before and that none of my alters are distinct and that i didn't present like i had DID, but the amab trans girl she was dating had "super obvious DID" that "wasn't anything like mine". She would go on and on about that girl's alters and how she obviously noticed when they switched, but then never spent enough time with me to notice when I actually did switch. My GF at the time did at least acknowledge my DID, but other people were challenging it left, right and center.

I could tell I Was being treated like a cis woman. It was painfully obvious. The atmosphere instantly turned sour. There was way more tension than before. The cis gay man I lived with was very misogynistic and seemed to see most trans men as cis women. It's inescapable. This isn't something that just happens online. A lot of transfems, trans women, gay men, and other queer people just do not view trans men as men at all and view us as cis women, no matter how hard we pass or no matter how far we progress in our transition. You can't be a man without a penis, and if you get a penis through surgery it doesn't count because it's "not the same".

People genuinely do treat you worse when they find out you have a vagina or think that you have one. They will start treating you different the moment they find out. And yes, this includes trans women and transfems. It's rampant behavior. I dealt with it with other transfems who showed up as well. There were a lot. It was very painful to feel like an outcast in a very trans space. The reason so many transfems and trans women think that it doesn't happen is because it gets dismissed and erased constantly. Some people genuinely do go out of their way to cover up this behavior. It's not every transfem or trans woman, but this behavior is happening in every corner of the queer community right now.

I don't know if the people who say these things realize, but we see what you are doing. It's really obvious. We seriously aren't as dumb as you think we are. Please get over the internalized misogyny and bioessentialism that tells you to hate people assigned female at birth and people with vaginas. That's just textbook misogyny and bioessentialism.

[wooawi]

When the sentichildren were made, their parents made them to be what they thought “a child” encompassed. The order given, after the tiny newborns were created was “Live and grow as humans”. Live and grow as the humans we want you to be.

Kagami was a reckless child, always running and jumping and climbing on whatever she could get her hands on. Of course, that meant more scrapes and scratches and breaks and tears. She never cared though. Whether it be a scrapped knee or her leg bending the wrong way, she’d get right back up and keep playing. Like nothing had happened. Like she couldn’t feel the pain.

-

Felix never babbled or gurgled or made much of any sound as a baby, infant, toddler. His father found it disturbing and tried to change it, tried to order Felix to speak numerous times over the years. It was clear the child was trying, his face scrunched up with effort everytime the order was given. Yet nothing. It wasn’t until Amelie asked if they had given him vocal cords (“Of course we did! We made a human, didn’t we?”) that Colt realised something had gone wrong with his child.

-

Chloe was a blank slate for much of the first few years of her life. She was often mistaken as a doll for just how quiet and inexpressive she was. Pinching her arm brought a few tears to her eyes, but her face and body stayed stiff and clear. Bringing her as many gifts as the lobby could fit for her birthday didn’t bring so much as a twitch of her lips or widening of her eyes. She didn’t voice her wants, nor did she speak of displeasure. She only gave pleasantries and pre-taught greetings.

It disturbed Audrey to the point she decided she would rather leave to start over with another child, one free from the mistakes of the Peacock Miraculous. It was with her final words to Chloe, an unintentional order to “Just do something! Any emotion is fine, I just want to see something!”, that Chloe’s face finally twitched and twisted and shook and changed.

But, Audrey was already gone.

-

Adrien on the other hand, well he was perfect. He started walking with next to no trail-and-error stage. He always ate what he was given and never made a mess. He cleaned up after himself and was always polite and courteous. And most notable of all, he never cried.

He didn’t cry at his “birth”, he didn’t cry when a maid forgot to change his diaper for 3 days straight, he didn’t cry when his favourite toy was misplaced. He didn’t cry for Chloe when she was a mess at her mother’s departure, he didn’t cry when he was denied going to public school for the nth time, he didn’t cry when he had fallen down the stairs in his excitement to see his mother after she had returned from the hospital.

He didn’t cry at his mother’s funeral.

He had emotions, don’t fret. He was a normal, healthy, and perfect child through and through. But something was wrong, something Gabriel could never figure out, not even with an order to “cry” or “grow lacrimal glands” or “just tell me what’s wrong!”. No matter what he tried, no matter what he told Adrien, the child would simply tilt his head in confusion and move on like nothing happened.

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.❞

What makes your future lover horny around you? (Detailed)

Masterlist.

Authors note,

Finding matching dividers and photos were a nightmare, unfortunately, but I also deeply missed my old theme.

Divider.

Pile 01. 

“You’re such a sweetheart, I wish I knew you before. I wish I waited for you instead of being in a relationship with her. I wished..” There are a lot of wishes from your future person and a lot of regrets from their past relationship. A lot of pain surrounds their heart, yet when it comes to you, their mind is crystal clear, and they know they are with the right person. You make them feel okay and safe and helped them understand their own emotions. A lot of healed energy and open-minded individuals here. I hear a lot of thanks from them; you also helped them realize their sexuality, yet you do not feel disgusted by them. A lot of them met close-minded individuals, and their minds have been accustomed to feeling ashamed and fearful about who they really are. You are their safe haven. 

Now, what makes your future spouse horny around you? A lot of things, they’re so romantically beautiful that my heart is fluttering for you. An immense feeling of serenity flows through me. 

The way you speak to them, you are always calm around them, and you speak/ooze elegance. Their hearts flutter, and this usually turns them on.

The way you command others to notice you, whether it is intentionally or not. You make others notice you so easily, which is also how you make your fp notice you or how your fp has noticed you. 

I see a scene where someone is wearing something that shines and makes others notice it. The outfit is your aesthetic; it doesn’t matter what it is. The vibe is this dark blue hue mixed with a saturated gray, but there is a spotlight on them. Everyone is watching their every move and cannot get enough of them. There are other socialites in this scene, yet everyone needs to notice this person. This is your energy, you steal others' spotlight, thus doing the same with your fp. Your dominant energy turns your fp on like a madman, and I can hear them masturbating while muttering your name.

Your word choices, your fp sees you full of richness. Your vocabulary is broad, and they think your intelligence is on another level. I see you saying filthy words to them during sex in a romanticized language, or your native language, and this is their killer. Their heart will beat like crazy, they will become sweaty and become aroused on the spot. Some will literally orgasm on the spot depending on their sex drive and yours (so this varies). 

This may seem normal to you, but to them this is.. Not sure how to explain it, but it is something else. Your healing nature is their turn on. So, as mentioned, their ex messed them up and there was a lot of toxic energy surrounding them with her (yes, regardless of their gender), but with you—it’s very healthy and romantic. For some reason (their words), it turns them on a lot. You could be setting up a boundary and explaining why, and their mind drifts to fucking you endlessly. Then they have to remind themselves to listen, and they will—every little word that comes from your mouth, the detail of where they are, every movement of yours, but ultimately go back to those thoughts. Again, this also comes back to your presence and how you make everyone drawn to you effortlessly. 

During sex, you tend to squirm around the person you make out with spontaneously, just something your body has been doing forever. For them, they find it adorable and cannot get enough of it. Some of you feel insecure about it, but you shouldn’t because it is one of their favorites. Now, it doesn’t necessarily turn them on, but it plays a part in your presence. Addictive is what pops into mind.

Seriously, your presence is incredible, so healing and nurturing and your presence itself is going to bring so many suitors into your life that you may feel overwhelmed. So make sure to tend to yourself and distance from energy vampires that will appear as your future lover; do not ignore your gut feeling or intuition around certain people despite how others speak kindly about them. Not everything meets the eye.

Your hardworking ability and determination are one of their turn ons. They have or will speak about this to their mother, hiding parts of their fantasy of you fucking them/pegging them endlessly while using a tie around their neck to control them but also choke them. A lot of rough fantasies, but aside from this. They adore how you work so hard to get what you want instead of projecting envious energy onto others and being bitter. Once again, this is normal for you, but for them and others around you, it is so refreshing. Also, they will peek around when you are working and admire your body and hope that you will not see them despite you knowing they are and accentuating your body for their eyes. 

Channeled song:

Climax - Djo 

✮ Masterlist.

Pile 02. 

With how you make them smile instantly. They have a rough and biker type of personality. Very heartwarming and soft with the right person yet so gruff. With you though, they are able to let loose, which makes it easier for them to show that they do become aroused by you. They have had instances where they could not or were not allowed by people they used to know. They have never been in a relationship, which has resulted in them being bitter, so do expect rough sex from time to time. I do find it ironic with how they have never had sex before, but you do teach them everything you know and they are able to adapt to the details and your body movement. 

You are an unbothered person and very laid back. They are someone who will overthink and let their insecurities interfere with their words, so sometimes they will try to assert their ‘dominance’ with you. The reality is: they want you to dominate them despite what they are actually saying. They have a lot of bratty energy, or scared bratty energy. Your unbothered personality turns them on and will make them realize they like being dominated, but it also pisses them off since they are used to others being intimidated by them and cowering away. 

They will become turned on by how you always wear something sexy or any type of accessory that is appealing to the male’s gaze, regardless of your and their gender. Something about them gets them going, and they will let you step on them, both metaphorically and physically. 

I see an image where someone is wearing red heels and clear stockings holding a baton as their lover's hands are tied with their used stocking after they came. And their lover is begging for them to touch them, but the person will not. The lover's main focus is their high heel as the image zooms onto it. Your fp main focus will be that sexy outfit or accessory whenever they can get their hands on you or if you are taking control. I feel a lot of vers energy despite you being prone to take the bottom role. I see them encouraging you and making you feel confident too.

This isn’t something that turns them on, but it is necessary for me to say. They love your legs. A lot of you feel insecure about it, and some of you feel shameful for not shaving your legs’ hair, but mind you, they will be worshiping your mind no matter what. If you were to insult them or your leg, expect them to drag you anywhere and kiss them so hard in an attempt to make a hickey but for it to fail miserably. 

Your tongue skills are to die for. The second you even mention oral to them, they will be aroused, and their heart will start to race like heartburn. Overwhelming sensations will drape around their body and make them into a mummy. This only comes down to when you do give them oral, as they will be your sucker. You could even bribe them or give a peace offering for oral and you will receive instant obliviousness or forgiveness. But they do know that it is their weakness, so they won’t be bothered or insulted by it. I see the both of you using this as a tease or a joke with others (when they become comfortable with the idea). 

I mentioned how they will worship you and have bratty energy, but I also feel toxic alpha energy. The meaning fits their personality when you meet and get to know one another but it is hidden perfectly. You will notice it and some of you will brush it off. They grew up in a toxic environment where toxic masculinity and misogynistic traits were normalized for them, and they believe it is their duty to do everything without getting help from anyone, hence the gruffness in their lovely personality. There are a lot of internalized misogynistic traits with them that they may project onto you, so when they do ask you out, make them wait for you for a few months or 1-2 years (depending on your gut feeling) and call them out for their behavior because it will be a toxic relationship if you do not. Calling them out makes them change for the better, so you can actually see the lovely personality I spoke of.

If you do make them wait, the relationship will blossom into something pretty.. Like a sakura tree. Their energy after they heal and are with you is so enchanting and soothing, it makes you desire to sit at a pond and read a book with one another while gazing at the clouds passing by. The breeze brushes on your skin, leaving a subtle chill, and their gaze from your body to your lips as you speak will send shivers both on your body. Their respectful movements with you will make you melt..

I could write a book on how beautiful the relationship will become, but that is for you to find out and for me to know. 

Channeled songs:

She calls me daddy - KiNG MALA

Sweet but psycho - Ava Max

✮ Masterlist.

Pile 03.

How many people do you have chasing after you? Your sex appeal is off the roof; I see so many people similar to a zombie horde chasing after you and begging you for your attention; the same goes for your fp. Some of you do manifestation techniques and affirm for sex appeal beauty, something about being sexy or being a queen/god, and an aura that draws people in and it’s working. This is how you will attract your fp. Some of you have met them and you know it’s them because you manifested them, and for those that haven't, they will come to you in April, May, June, or if you start to see things that have ‘’mars,’’ you are close. 

Now, what makes your fp horny around you?

They become aroused when you are boastful, cocky, and straight up arrogant. They remind me of a puppy, always following their owner, no matter what and always needing them. 

You have a seductive walk, you move and walk like a serpent. It’s silent, smooth, and confident, but you have this movement that draws its prey to you. I cannot explain the energy I am feeling, but I know that you know what I mean because you have been affirming it. 

You wear a lot of red and gold, red lipsticks, red eye shadow, gold suits, dark red suits, dresses that show a lot of skin, etc. You ooze the definition of sex appeal, and your fp sees it for themselves, and they desire for you to tie them up with red chains into your prey to devour. 

Is snakes your favorite or something you feel connected to? Your energy fits a snake in the best and worst ways. Meaning, you’re cunning as one but tantalizing as their eyes. You seriously pull people in, and I feel hypnotized as I do your reading. Your energy is secretive as a snake, but so open as the inside of their body when consuming their prey. You’re going to hypnotize them so well, and it happens accidentally. In that moment, you forget about your affirmations and techniques and meet them, even if you have met them (but you already knew that because it feels natural for you).

The way you move during sex. Your body movement is slow and smooth; your moves are sensual, as if you were a dancer for centuries. It reminds me of Egyptian belly dancers and their pharaoh would watch and enjoy. Your beauty and moves make them so horny that if you blew on their sensitive spot, they would instantly squirt.

You’re a secretive person, and you tell them small things about yourself, and they are itching for more. But the thing that turns them on is how you describe your past experiences, the words you use.. It is not meant to be suggestive, yet it is. 

Your tongue movement. You either lick your teeth sensually, flick your tongue, nibble or bite your lips, or do all of them and play with your hair in a subtle movement to make them notice you when they are busy with something. This catches their attention so fast and they will feel hot and bothered. 

Lap dances are your specialty, and if not now, in the future it will be because you wanted to tease them and be mischievous. Your lap dances compared to their last experiences always make them cum.. And it won’t even be 10 minutes in. And you will chuckle at them and play with their hair, and their cheeks will become so flushed they squirt.

There are so many things you will do that make your fp horny, but I have to stop it here because your energy is so strong that I felt like a sailor and you were the sirens singing to me and I was about to drown—I cannot write anymore (omg). Some of you have been manifesting for the ones I have written, and now that you have seen it, congratulations on your dedication and consistency for your desires. And to your fp, good luck to them because your energy—whew. 

Channeled song:

APT - ROSÉ and Bruno Mars

✮ Masterlist.

[deakyjoe]

Every Breath You Take

Pairing: Michael Myers x Reader (afab but no pronouns used I don’t think)

Category: stalker romance (??), smut (!!)

Summary: It shouldn’t exhilarate you so much knowing a serial killer was stalking you. But you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal fingering, dry humping, biting, licking, creampie, overstimulation, motorboating, pain as pleasure, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, choking, scent kink, multiple orgasms, nipple play, over the clothes handjob, under the clothes handjob, slight dubcon (only because Michael doesn’t talk but I tried to make it as clear as possible that they just want to fuck each other), stalking, mentions of injuries and blood, mentions of murder, breaking and entering, morally questionable reader, mask is on and off, lights stay off during sex, virgin Michael, a little dark I guess (??)

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: For those who love masked men (aka me). For those who want to fuck slashers (aka me). For those who love the quiet type (aka me). For those who love a tall man (aka me). For those who love a strong man (aka me). I wrote this for me basically. I don’t think there’s much of an audience for Michael Myers fics within my followers but hopefully it reaches the right side of Tumblr :)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

It was probably disgusting how much it excited you knowing he watched you every day.

He'd stand in your back yard each night, totally still, and just look through your windows for hours. And then, when he was satisfied you assumed, he'd leave. But he always came right back the next day at the same time.

When you'd first noticed him, you'd been terrified. Naturally. You knew exactly who he was, you watched the news and heard stories. And the white mask and blue coveralls were unmistakable. You'd seen him through your window and locked all of the doors immediately. Then you waited. Patiently.

You didn't know what you were waiting for. Him to kill you... or to defend yourself. Your chances of survival were slim, he was inhumanly strong from what you'd heard. But you clutched a knife in your hand nonetheless, mirroring him in a strange way, in case you did suddenly have to fight him off.

Luckily, it never came down to that dilemma as he left a couple of hours later without even a step closer to your back door. You blinked and he was gone.

He came back the next night and did the same thing. And then the next night. And the next. And the next. Until it became a ritual.

You went about your evening and he watched. You always wondered whether he watched you during the day as well but you'd never noticed him. You also wondered what it was about you that didn't make him murder you straight away.

You were older than his usual victims, sure. And he supposedly liked to commit most of his crimes whilst his victims were in the middle of sexual acts and you didn't tend to have many visitors over. But then what was making him fixate on you?

You just couldn't figure it out.

It got to a point where you were less scared of him and more intrigued. Having him stand and stare was getting boring, you wanted to know why. No. You craved knowing why. But you couldn't ask him. You'd heard he wasn't fond of talking.

So what were you supposed to do? Just let it carry on? That was your only choice.

But things changed one evening.

When he appeared something didn't seem quite right. For one, he was seven minutes later than usual. And his left shoulder slumped forward with all of his weight placed onto his right leg.

He was injured.

And you couldn't help but feel bad for him.

So, like an insane person, you unlocked your door and opened it for him.

As you stood in the doorway staring at him, you noticed him straighten up. As if he were surprised. But you knew the man didn't show emotions, much less any that would display him being caught off guard in any way. So you put it down as your imagination or a trick of the moonlight.

But you left your door open. An invitation. Like he needed one of those.

He didn't move so you left the doorway and went to retrieve your first aid kit from the cabinet above the sink. And by the time you'd found it and turned back around, Michael Myers was standing about a foot into your kitchen.

You stared at him for a second, unsure of the emotions turning in your stomach. "Close the door. It's cold outside."

You really didn't know if you could afford to be giving him orders but considering he hadn't murdered you in the months he'd been watching you, you thought that you were probably safe until you'd at least bandaged up whatever wounds hid beneath the blue jumpsuit.

Not sticking around to see if he did it, you walked to your lounge and put a lamp on. His footsteps were silent so you kept an eye on the archway where he'd emerge from the kitchen. Which he did a few seconds later.

"Sit on the couch."

Surprisingly, he did as he was told. But you thought you might be pushing your luck so you stopped telling him to do things.

As he sat down, not relaxed in the slightest with the best posture you'd ever seen, you realised that getting a wounded man to sit on your nice furniture was probably a bad idea. What if he got blood everywhere? Too late now. You weren't going to ask him to move.

You moved towards him slowly, trying not to spook him. He still had a knife clutched in his hand after all. It was bloodstained. You ignored it.

Michael watched you closely, his head didn't move but you could feel his gaze through the dark eyeholes of the mask. It didn't escape your notice that he was still extremely tall even when sat down.

"What's hurt?"

It was a stupid question, you could see where blood was seeping through his clothes and the slashes in the fabric was clear. But given your very recent history of poor choices, an obvious question seemed like the least of your worries.

He didn't respond anyway. No finger point, no head tilt, no shrug. Not a single inch of his body moved apart from his chest from his breathing. If you couldn't see his inhales and exhales then you'd think he was some sort of dummy or mannequin.

"Have you got a shirt on underneath the jumpsuit?"

Why were you still asking questions?

He still said nothing, which you expected, but he did raise a hand to pop the first couple buttons open to reveal a grey t-shirt under the blue coveralls.

You sighed and nodded. "Um, you're going to need to- to undo a few more buttons. So I can get to your shoulder."

The blood stain was getting bigger and staining his clothes a deep purple.

He tilted his head to the side at you, the most emotion he'd shown so far. But he did as he was told again and then pushed the suit down his arms so it lowered to his waist. You didn't fail to notice how the grey t-shirt clung to him nicely, maybe a size or two too small, and displayed every inch of rippling muscle that covered him. Explained his inhuman strength.

You took a few supplies from the kit and started cleaning up the injury on his shoulder, careful to avoid staring at how his sleeve stretched against his bicep.

When you noticed him staring at you from the corner of your eye, you cleared your throat and pulled away again to distract yourself with looking for other injuries. Which was a fine idea until you realised that blood was dripping from beneath the rubber that adorned his face.

You went to lift the edge of the mask, no intention of taking it off, but his large hands gripped your wrists before you even had the chance. The knife was suddenly forgotten on the cushion of the couch.

You gasped in pain, his hold was tight, but didn't pull away. Trying your hardest to meet his eyes as best you could, you attempted to explain. "I'm not going to take it off but I need to get to your neck. You're bleeding. Lift the mask to your chin and hold it there so I can clean your neck."

There were a few tense moments of heavy breathing from him before he let go and did as you said. He was too agreeable, very out of character from all of the stories you'd heard about him. Were people wrong? Or was he acting differently than usual? How were you supposed to know?

You shook the thoughts from your head and got on with cleaning him up. You couldn't find the source of the blood so assumed it must've been coming from higher up on his face. But you weren't going to ask him to lift the mask anymore. You were a risk taker, if the night was any indication of that, but you didn't have a death wish. Mostly.

"Done." You mumbled and stepped back a few paces, looking down to clean away all of your supplies.

By the time you looked up he was standing again fully clothed.

"You going to kill me now finally?" There was a hint of laughter in your voice. If he did you wouldn't blame him. You probably deserved it after inviting a serial killer into your home and treating him like his own personal nurse.

He didn't respond, just turned and left the room. And by the time you got to the kitchen to follow him out, he was gone and the back door was shut and locked like he'd never even been there.

"See you tomorrow night then." You grumbled to yourself, assuming he'd return as he usually did.

And he did.

Uninjured this time. To your relief and, honestly, slight disappointment. There was really something very wrong with you.

But the routine returned to normal. Michael Myers would appear in your back yard every night at the same time and watch you for hours with no sign of even attempting to enter your house to murder you. And he'd leave when he was done watching whatever he sought out from you.

The initial thrill you'd had knowing he liked watching you had disappeared quickly after you'd realised there was less danger than you'd expected. And the fact that you could get so much closer to him was more exciting than anything else.

The idea of him being inside your house again played on your mind constantly, rolling around in there as regularly as a forbidden fantasy. And maybe it was. But surely you weren't fantasising about Michael Myers... right?

Perhaps the memory of his muscles and his height, just his sheer size even, plagued your brain way more often than was considered normal. The thought that he could probably just snap you in two with his large hands and impossible strength if he chose to, how easy it would be for him to break in and end your life on his will. But he chose not to.

That set your nerves alight.

So you turned your nights into a staring contest.

He'd stand in your back yard and stare into your window. You'd stand in your kitchen and stare out of your window.

And you slowly got more daring. You began to retire to bed earlier, going upstairs to your bedroom and changing right in his direct view. It was one of the few times he moved, tilting his head up slightly to see you better through the mask.

You didn't give him a full show, knowing it probably wasn't what he wanted. He liked to kill "promiscuous" people after all. But it was enough to give him an idea, a way to tease him. It was entertaining for you at least, even if he wasn't bothered.

But then one night when you noticed that he was a few feet closer to your house, you realised it was probably working.

He was tempted.

Whether it was to kill you or to do something else, you weren't sure. But you were exhilarated either way.

When he returned obviously injured again a few nights later, you sighed to yourself in annoyance. Yes, you were excited he'd be in your house again. But out of need, not want. You still unlocked your door and left it open for him as you waited in the lounge nevertheless.

When he emerged from the dark archway between your kitchen and your lounge, you looked him up and down. His stance was better than last time but he was covered in more blood. You deduced that it probably wasn't his.

"Sit." You whispered hoarsely. "Please."

Like manners were going to affect whether he killed you or not.

It went pretty much the same as the time before, cleaning the blood from him as best you could and bandaging up what was easy to access. He didn't flinch or wince, not even at the stuff that made your toes curl just from touching.

It wasn't until you were just finishing off spreading some antibacterial lotion on a gash on his thigh that you noticed he was breathing heavier than usual. You looked up at him and frowned, confused. But when he gave you no indication as to why he was suddenly almost hyperventilating, you shrugged it off and reached for a band-aid. As you glanced towards the wound to get an idea of the size you'd need for it, you realised what was wrong.

"Oh."

He was hard.

"Oh."

The prominent bulge in his crotch wasn't shy in showing you that it was there. He was big, to say at the very least.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times before you settled on a reassurance. "It's okay. This happens. Especially when someone is touching you a lot."

You figured this was the most he'd been touched in over a decade.

"I'll just uh..." You stood up to step away from him but he launched his arm forward to grab you by the wrist, not letting you go any further.

"Michael..."

He answered you by tugging your body into his lap, legs straddling either side of his thighs. You made sure not to settle your weight onto him, very conscious of what that could lead to.

But he had other ideas.

He planted both of his large hands on either side of your waist and pushed you to sit fully against him. And there was a lot to sit against.

You bit your tongue to prevent any noise coming out. What now? What did he expect?

His breathing was shaky as he surveyed you through the small eyeholes of his mask, hands hovering over your sides for a second.

You couldn't deny that this position, this close proximity, was turning you on. Especially feeling how hard he was pushed up against you.

He seemed to decide what he wanted to do next as his fists gripped the fabric of your pyjama shirt, suddenly tearing it open so buttons flew everywhere and then ripping it off of you and tossing it to a darkened corner of the room. His hands didn't hesitate it exploring the new uncovered areas of skin, his rough callouses against your soft flesh. He was clearly enjoying this new adventure as he appeared to grow impossibly harder beneath you. Lots of him was impossible.

The clasp he had on your breasts was almost painful but your eyes rolled back in pleasure nevertheless. You liked that he was manhandling you, the strength you'd been fantasising about since day one finally being used on you.

His hands slid down your sides until they met your hips, fingers digging in and pulling them against his. A choked moan escaped your mouth drowning out the sound of his own grunt. When Michael decided that he seemed to like that, he did it again. Rougher this time. And quicker. Then he set a pace doing it over and over again. Your hands flew to his shoulders to give yourself something to hold onto, some grounding. Because this was more than you could handle.

How could something so simple feel so good?

The feeling of his coveralls rubbing against you through the thin material of your sleep shorts was heavenly. That, mixed with his hardness pushing against you in all the right place meant you were in pure ecstasy.

The uncontrollable noises leaving you would've been embarrassing if it weren't for the fact that this was the best you'd ever felt. And you hadn't even had sex. Yet.

Barely a sound left Michael, just the occasional short groan to go along with his heavy breathing.

You couldn't quite tell where he was looking until his head suddenly snapped down and his eyes clearly fixated on where your breasts were bouncing with the rapid movement of the two of you rocking against each other. A slightly louder noise left him then.

There was no rest for you, even if your legs did grow tired and you ran out of breath because he wouldn't let you stop moving. You knew you were probably creating a wet patch on his clothes and that would only grow bigger when he finally came. You were surprised he was lasting this long to be honest. For someone who had been locked up most of his life and hadn't had any sexual experience, he had some stamina in him. But maybe he wasn't a virgin. Was your assumption wrong?

You didn't get time to dwell on it as his arm suddenly locked around your waist and he stopped the two of you. Looking down at him, he was almost the perfect picture of composure. Just some heavy breathing indicated what the two of you had been up to. You couldn't imagine you looked quite as calm.

The arm around you stiffened as he titled the two of you to the side.

"What are you doi- woah." The room was plunged into darkness as he switched the lamp off and then pulled you tight against him again. "Why did you- oh."

Your unfinished question was answered with the sound of rubber hitting the floor penetrating your ears and the feeling of Michael's breath against your skin. You didn't get the chance to question him further as to why he did that as he immediately buried his face in the valley of your breasts and rocked your hips against his to get the friction going again, his free hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the two of you moved.

You bit your bottom lip, extremely happy that he hadn't decided to just stop and leave, that this was still going. The happiness only extended when he licked a drop of sweat off of your skin and you almost screamed. But you couldn't imagine if was the kind of screaming he was used to so you bit your tongue.

Trying to adjust to the sudden absence of light by blinking, but having little success, you looked down to where you imagined Michael's head would be. You saw nothing. Naturally, the only solution to that was to move your hands up his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. As you curled your fingers into the locks, you were pleasantly surprised to find how soft it was.

You would've smiled or giggled to yourself if he hadn't chosen that exact moment to bite into your collarbone and thrust up underneath you. Your response of tugging on his hair seemed to go down well as he did it again.

"Fuck." You whined against the top of his head, eyes scrunching shut.

That caught Michael's attention, his head pulling back and his free hand abandoning your thigh to wrap around the front of your neck, squeezing slightly when situated there.

You knew what he was doing. Mixing what he usually found pleasurable with this new experience. You wondered whether it was getting him off even more. If the way he was practically throbbing beneath you was any indication, then yes.

This added element of danger sent a shiver down your spine and an intense pulse to your core, making you rock against him without any prompting from him at all. You could still breathe but you knew he could stop that at any second if he chose to.

A breathless moan rumbled from the back of your throat as he squeezed your neck tighter, the arm locked around your waist pushing you against him even harder.

You were so close. So, so close. You chased your high like it was running away from you, rubbing yourself against him as roughly as you could. But there was no need.

Because when Michael leaned forward again to lick a long strip up from your left breast to your neck and then bit you, hard, it was like you saw the pearly gates of heaven. Or the fiery descent to hell.

Your orgasm crashed over you in hot waves as you collapsed against him, forcing his body to hit the back of the couch as your forehead met his and you gasped into his mouth, lips almost grazing but not quite meeting. Your grasp on his hair was tight, tugging on the roots like they were your lifeline. Your naked chest pressed against his clothed one, and that combined with the slight pain of the hair pulling was enough for Michael to come underneath you.

You could feel him twitching against you, only making you shudder against him more, as the wet patch on his jumpsuit grew as you predicted. The quietest extended groan left his mouth as he tensed beneath you, arms locking around you. His hips bucked up against yours a few times weakly before he grew limp.

You rested for a moment, trying to gain some strength back in your shaking legs, before you pushed off of him and stood up. Feeling around in the air for the lamp, you covered your eyes before switching it back on.

"Find your mask and put it back on." You instructed, waiting a moment for him to do so.

He didn't make any noise as he moved, as usual, and the only indication you had that he was done was the looming feeling of his presence in front of you and the sound of his exhales rattling the rubber that adorned him.

You uncovered your eyes and squinted against the sudden light, looking up to find Michael almost chest to chest with you. Well, head to chest. He was very tall after all.

Your gaze flickered down to his left hand which was slightly extended towards you. He was holding your pyjama shirt. The one he'd ruined by ripping all of the buttons off.

"Oh, thanks." You took it from him and put it back on, holding it together at the front by crossing your arms against your chest.

Probably a bad idea considering this position made the top gape open and your breasts push together to create an exaggerated cleavage. Michael didn't seem to mind as he lifted his right hand and traced a finger across the swell of your breasts for a moment before dropping his arm back to his side again.

You dropped your eyes away in embarrassment, and slight arousal, and noticed the mess the two of you had made on his blue jumpsuit.

"You're gonna want to wash that." You said, meekly gesturing towards it. You couldn't deny that seeing the stains that you'd made together was making your skin feel hot again.

He didn't even look to see what you were talking about, just continued to stare at you through his mask.

You tried to come up with something to say but nothing sprung to mind. What were you supposed to say to a serial killer that you'd just dry humped and orgasmed on top of?

It seemed like you didn't need to come up with a one-sided conversation starter though as he suddenly turned on his heel and left the room. You hesitated before following him. Stupid really since you couldn't even keep up with him at the best of times, especially not now on weak legs.

And, as usual, by the time you'd reached the kitchen he was gone and the door was locked.

He continued to return every night as normal but didn't enter your house again. No injuries seemed to be inflicted upon him for a while. You were beginning to get bored. Sighing every time he left with no hint of coming inside again.

Which is why a few days later you were very shocked by his out of character behaviour.

You woke up cold, your blankets stripped from your bed and the feeling of someone watching you sinking a chilling freeze into your bones. It was soon clear why you felt that way.

His silhouette was partially outlined by the moonlight coming through your bedroom window as he stood over you.

You shot up in bed, giving yourself a head rush. "Michael, what the fu-" You were cut off as he grasped the hand that was reaching for your bedside lamp. "No light? Why?"

He answered your question by pressing something rubber into your palm. His mask.

"Oh. Okay..." You frowned to yourself as you dropped the mask on your nightstand. What was he expecting you to do if he was injured but you couldn't see him? "I can't clean your wounds if it's dark."

It was too dark to see his face but the natural light from outside was enough to see him shake his head no. He wasn't injured. What did he need then?

"Then what? Why are you here? At this time?" You were still slightly dazed from just waking up, trying to shake some coherent thought into your head. What was the time? He'd already been and gone earlier that evening. How had he gotten in? You were sure you'd locked the door? Maybe that made no difference?

His breathing was heavy, shoulders moving up and down with his laboured inhales and exhales.

His grip on your wrist hadn't loosened as he pulled your hand towards him, resting it on his abdomen and then slowly dragging down and down and-

"Oh."

He was hard.

Very hard.

"You want me to-"

You'd guessed by this point that he probably hated hearing you talk as he was always cutting you off. This time by pushing on your shoulders so you fell flat on your back and bounced on the mattress. And then he was on top of you in mere fractions of a second.

He was smothering.

His mere presence was enough to stop your breath in your throat and having him be this close, having all of his weight pressed against you this way, practically stole the oxygen from your bloodstream.

His breath was hot on your face, his nose barely grazing against yours before he moved to trace it along your hairline and then down your neck where he inhaled deeply, groaning lowly at your scent.

You reached up to touch him but he was too fast, clasping both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

"This doesn't work if I can't touch you." You mumbled frustratedly, more to yourself than to him.

It wasn't strictly true but what did he know? Last time he hadn't used any real technique, just done whatever felt best for him which luckily also felt good for you. He'd used the mere skill brought to him by innate exploration. Maybe this time he'd be more purposeful with you.

Unlikely.

The statement you'd made seemed to have some sort of influence on him though as he slowly let go of your wrists and let you dig one into his hair, where you gently pulled on it, and let the other drift to undo the top buttons of his coveralls. You popped them open cautiously, one by one, until your nails stroked the material of his grey undershirt. You assumed it was grey as usual.

Your fingers wandered to the neckline where you swooped the index to get a feel of his skin. He froze above you but didn't stop you.

"I'm going to undo more. Just stop me if you want. But gently." You clarified, not wanting bruised wrists in the morning which was guaranteed if he grabbed them with his vice-like grip again.

Each button fell open easily, like they were dying to be free from their clasps, and Michael didn't stop you once. And when the last one was undone, he leant back slightly on his knees to let you push the jumpsuit down so it bunched around his waist just like the first time he'd been in your house.

You took the opportunity to let your hands roam the muscles you'd been admiring since the first time you'd seen him up close. They were solid. He was solid.

He crowded over you again, breathing getting more rapid the more you touched him. He let out a soft sound when your hands reached his crotch, palming him over his clothes.

"Take them off and I can touch you more." You offered, attempting to sound sultry but sure you just sounded desperate instead.

He hesitated but did as you said, standing up to push the jumpsuit further down his legs but still not taking it off completely. Then he was on top of you again, pushing your hand against him before you even had the chance to realise he was so close again. You squeezed him through his underwear and he bucked his hips against your palm.

You did that for a while, moving your hand up and down the outline of him through the material and ignoring the ache between your own legs. Getting him riled up was a lot of fun, especially when he let noises slip every now and again. You just wished you could see the reactions on his face. Did he bite his lip? Did he screw his eyes shut? Was his jaw dropped open? You guessed you'd never know.

While those thoughts plagued your mind, it seemed Michael had changed his. And what was happening wasn't good enough for him anymore. So he slapped your hand away suddenly. Before you could even begin to utter a sentence, he ripped your pyjama shirt open.

Great, another one ruined.

His hands shot to your chest, away from where they'd been resting either side of your head previously, and he started to knead the flesh. Your back arched, pushing your chest closer to his and making your nipples rub against the fabric of his t-shirt. Michael must've figured out that the stimulation was good based on the gasp you let out as he moved his attention to your nipples, flicking and tweaking them with his fingers.

He didn't seem hesitant at all in what he was doing but it was also clear he wasn't experienced either. There was no rhythm to his touches, he just did whatever felt right. And that worked for you.

You grew extremely wet when he started grinding himself against your core from instinct alone. You wanted more, craved more, needed more.

Your hands flew to the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down a few inches to pull him free. You knew he was big but having the real thing in your hand, no clothing barriers at all, was a whole other story.

You could hear his teeth clicking shut when you started to stroke him, skin on skin, spreading his pre-cum up and down his length.

"Fuck, Michael. Jesus." You garbled, head wild with lust and nothing else. "Need you inside me."

He stopped moving at that, hands falling away from your chest and hips no longer bucking to pump himself into your palm.

Maybe he really was clueless.

"You know? Inside me?" You reached around to find one of his hands, pushing it down the waistband of your sleep shorts until his fingers met your wetness.

He wasn't even doing anything but the sensation alone of him touching you made you shiver. That was until he seemed to understand what he was feeling. His head tilted to the side, just about visible in the moonlight, as he let his fingers explore. As he grazed your clit, you squeaked quietly. He seemed to like that so he did it a couple more times, just to illicit a reaction out of you. But he got bored quickly and kept on feeling.

When he reached the source of the wetness, he pushed a finger in. You moaned. Loudly. He liked that a lot more, so pulled out the finger and reinserted with a second one joining in. Your eyes rolled back at this. And the sounds you made reached a new decibel. Michael did the same thing again and again, pumping his fingers just to feel you clench around him.

When he eventually pulled his fingers free, you whined in protest before the sounds of him sucking the taste of you off of his skin hit you. And you decided that maybe the loss of contact was okay if that's what he was going to do instead.

When he was satisfied with that, Michael tore your shorts off of you completely and tossed them over his shoulder somewhere. Then his underwear was pushed further down and he was spreading your legs apart, as far as they would go.

Your heart rate picked up further than it was already running, probably entering dangerous territory. But you didn't care. It was finally about to happen.

Michael crawled over you, shadowed face hanging above yours. You just nodded at him, wondering whether he was able to see you do it. Either way, he seemed to get the message that you really really wanted to do this. So, with a hand on one of your thighs to hold you in place, and the other on his cock to guide him, he pushed into you.

At that moment you decided that you were definitely seeing the devil in the afterlife.

But it was worth it for this.

He stretched you open perfectly, gliding in with ease considering how wet you already were. But that was nothing in comparison to how you felt hearing him letting out what could only be described as a mixture between a whimper and a pleasured groan against your ear.

If never hearing him talk meant that the noises he let out during sex made you tingle, then you'd take his silence any day.

The hand on your thigh moved to curl your leg around his waist, changing the angle so he moved into you deeper. And the other rested against your head to keep him propped up. Yours scraped down his back in ecstasy, probably leaving nail marks along the plains of his skin. You were sure he wouldn't mind, he'd had worse injuries.

He stayed still once he'd entered you, stiff but breathing heavily.

"Move, Michael." You whispered. "Please move."

And when he pulled out and slammed back in again, you were positive you could see the grim reaper knocking at your door ready to whisk you away to the tortuous pits of hell.

All you knew is that you certainly weren't seeing heaven after this.

Michael grunted, head hanging so his soft hair tickled against your skin. But he seemed to get the idea as he pumped in and out of you at a ruthless pace. Skin slapped together, your chests rubbing against one another as you bounced up and down the surface of the bed, which shuffled along the floor with every thrust.

You'd never known sex to be so loud. Maybe you'd just never had sex as good as this. Because the roaring of blood in your ears definitely wasn't helping.

You couldn't help the sounds that were escaping your parted lips, thankful that your neighbours' houses weren't close enough to hear you. Your other leg moved to wrap around Michael's waist, tugging him closer to you and locking him in place. You need him to be as close as possible, to be as deep inside you as possible.

The hand on your thigh dug in deep, certainly leaving bruises, before trailing up the length of your body and wrapping around the front of your neck. He pushed down this time, squeezing slightly to cut off your airway just a little. It excited you more than anything and made you clench around him.

That seemed unexpected to Michael as he faltered slightly before pounding into you harder than before, having absolutely no mercy on your body. You only clenched harder.

His pattern began to fumble, thrusts become more forceful but less regular. He was getting close. And you weren't far off either. You let one of your hands fall from his back and placed it between the two of you, starting to rub your clit. He took notice of this and pushed your hand away to replace it with his own, letting oxygen rush back into your lungs again.

The head rush combined with the pressure on your clit tipped you over the edge into oblivion. You choked out a muffled scream as your orgasm ripped through your body, tears falling from the corners of your eyes.

But Michael didn't let up for a second. This just seemed to give him a new wave of energy as his pace picked up rubbing tight circles on your clit and slamming into you with no forgiveness.

You approached the edge rapidly again, the raw feeling over overstimulation pushing you closer and closer. His sweat dripped onto you, creating a sheen that let your bodies slide against each other in erotic heat. You could feel every inch of him either against you or inside of you. And that thought made you come again. This time the scream was less muffled.

The feeling of you clenching around him again like a vice had Michael finally hitting his peak too, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he pumped you full of his cum. If you weren't so spent already, that would've made for three orgasms.

He bit down on the skin of your shoulder to prevent any noises coming out too loud, but he couldn't mask all of them. He twitched inside of you as he gave a few last lazy bucks of his hips before he pulled out completely, standing up and looking down at you.

You really wondered how good his vision must be in this light for him to be able to see you. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was faking it.

Either way you didn't care, too exhausted suddenly to really think about it. You began to drift to sleep, desperately trying to keep your eyes open to see what he'd do next. You vaguely remembered seeing him get dressed again. But you don't remember him leaving. Or moving you to rest your head back on your pillow. Or him pulling your blankets over you again.

Maybe he didn't do any of that. Maybe you did in your sleepy state.

It didn't matter. He was still gone before you even had the chance to register what happened.

But you were pleased when the next night, you glanced out of your kitchen window and found him stood there as usual, watching you. From now on, you were just going to leave your door unlocked to make it easier for him.

A/N: To celebrate my Halloween, I watched Halloween (1978) home alone whilst my housemates all went to a party. It inspired me to write this.

[sterifels-blog]

creepypasta characters – how they’d react to you being upset over a small inconvenience 🤏

BEN drowned

•mocking sarcasm: “oh no, did the big scary printer jam again? total apocalypse. truly.” what became clear in his death, was he did, in fact, take his childish personality with him. he is no better than jeff when it comes down to teasing you for your dismays.

•playful teaser. he glitches around the room, mimicking your upset tone in a distorted voice, just to annoy you. it's spiteful, a little ignorant, but it's something you've come to grow used to. some things were just inevitable with BEN, and his torment was one of those things.

•offers digital comfort. BEN hacks a random game to create a hidden message for you, like “cheer up, loser.” if you don't reciprocate any sort of reaction back- you best believe he will be petty enough to rig a match for you. not so you can win, no. so you lose. just to agitate you again.

•awkward, awkward softness: if you’re seriously upset, he stammers, “hey, uh, don’t cry. i… don’t know how to deal with that.” very likely, he panics and goes to grab someone like jack or jane.

•weird with distractions. he'll float around, humming the zelda theme song until you laugh or throw something at him. if it works, it works. either way, you're too focused on smiling, or trying to hit him.

•over-the-top suggestion: “want me to corrupt their computer files? that’ll show them.”

•king of small gestures. leaves a pixelated heart drawn in a game you’re playing, then pretends it wasn’t him.

bloody painter:

•he observes quietly. sits in eerie silence, studying your emotions like he’s painting a mental portrait.

•when he is finished staring (although, admittedly, he does quite like the sight of you), he will offer some deadpan advice:

•“if it doesn’t matter in five years, it’s not worth ruining your eyeliner over.”

•if verbal reassurance doesn't do it for you, willingly, he'll engage in a paint-based gesture for his angel. he draws something comforting or silly (alternatively, absolutely crude) on a scrap of paper and hands it to you without a word, hoping it makes some difference.

•dark humor (where it is, and isn't appropriate.) “want me to take care of whoever pissed you off?” half-joking. maybe. if you say no, there is some genuine disappointment left lingering in his eyes. a missed opportunity to stock-up.

•unexpected comfort. gently touches your face and says some cheesy bullshit like, “the colors of sadness suit you, but i’d rather see you smile". he knows he's succeeded in making you feel something other than upset, when you are pressing your palm against his face and pushing him away with a groan of annoyance.

•will go extreme measures to make you a distracting gift. offers to paint you something. it’s his way of saying sorry.

•serious effort: if you’re really upset, he’ll spend hours creating something meaningful to cheer you up. although you'd clearly specified you didn't want him to maul the poor man who'd taken the last pint of your favorite ice cream flavor; the red coating of the little house he'd made you (in respect to the small abode you will "most definitely have" together), spoke otherwise to him listening.

•it's fucking disgusting, but don't discard it. it's the.. 'sweetest' way he shows that he cares.

clockwork:

•chaotic comfort. immediately threatens to stab whatever inconvenienced you. “who do i need to ‘fix’ for this?”

•pactical help (or a lack thereof): she does actually try to solve the problem for you, but gets frustrated if it’s not instant.

•(unhelpful) teasing: “aww, does my little clock need winding? let’s fix your mood.”

•joking aggression: “you’re upset? try getting stabbed in the eye and tell me how you feel". she soon after realizes this probably wasn't the best way to get through to you, and instead resorts to gently carding her fingers through your hair, sitting in an awkward silence after.

•when the silence gets to be too much, the most rational conclusion she could come up with was a random distraction. tosses something shiny or makes a loud noise to snap you out of it, almost, most definitely getting a sick kick of amusement when you jump in a startle.

•clumsy affection: roughly pulls you into a hug afterwards and says, “you’ll be fine. i’ve seen you handle worse.”

•this is shortly after followed by a soft admission. “i don’t like seeing you like this. it’s weird.” no sympathy on her face, just her nose being scrunched up in discomfort. but you can tell she means her words.. more for her sake.

eyeless jack

•jack is a quiet observer. he always has been, and will be. he notices you’re upset but waits for you to bring it up, not wanting to push you down a further slope than you were already on.

•when you finally begin to talk to him, for the most part, he simply listens. but if he notices it's getting to be too much, he'll offer some gentle reassurance: his voice is calm, almost nonchalant as he says, “it’s okay. you can talk to me.” he means it.

•words aren't easy for him. he's used to being silent, tucked away to the confines of his laboratory. it's why he chooses a more physical approach. cooking comfort. jack makes you a meal without being asked—though you might not want to know the ingredients. just eat it, and thank him.

•when he does speak, he offers the most practical advice out of the bunch: “you’ll survive. you’re stronger than whatever this is.”

•he's cold, but caring: “if it’s not life-threatening, it’s not worth worrying about. but... i get it.”

•soft-spoken comfort: stays close by, quietly grounding you with his presence. he'll offer you a spot in his laboratory for the time being, leaving you to watch as he hustles and bustles about. he isn't a fan of people in his space- in the slightest. but for you, he doesn't mind the company, so long as it helps. he won't directly admit it, but seeing you upset does something to his heart.

•it unfortunately, wouldn't be jack without some out of pocket, and highly untimed dark humor. he's working on his current 'patient', his scalpel against the lining of their abdomen when he would pause, as though an idea surfaced.

•“would harvesting an organ cheer you up? no? worth a shot.”

hoodie

•takes a more casual approach compared to the others. nudges your shoulder and says some nonchalant shit like; “what’s got you so down?”

•followed by some super-chill reassurance: “it’s not the end of the world. i’ve seen worse.”

•says it in a tone that makes him sound like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, and is instead saying it in prayer god gives him a second chance for being 'kind'. he does, genuinely care however. he wouldn't have asked if he didn't.

•when he realizes it's something 'trivial' (in his mind), he'll give you some lighthearted distraction. hoodie offers to hang out or go on a random drive to take your mind off it. if you accept to hang out, you're both watching some rag-tag channel that your old, boxy ass television could pull up. it's absolutely shit. if you accept the drive, the radio is on, playing some old song that helps you clear your mind. the two of you definitely get going.

•if it's not the radio you're focused on, it's his singing. it's either god awful, and it makes you want to die more than whatever inconvenienced you at first, or he should have been a choir boy.

•snack attack: you two pull into a gas station along the way to fill up the old piece of rust. he goes in, comes back out with a pack of cigarettes and some chips in hand. he'll carelessly throw the bag of chips at you and say, “here. don’t say i never do anything for you.”

•soft teasing: “you’re cute when you’re mad, but let’s not make it a habit.”

•followed by some subtle care: puts his hoodie around your shoulders if you look especially down, or you're out late on your drive and it's getting cold.

jason the toymaker

•100% makes a toy bribe: instantly offers to make you a custom toy to cheer you up. “what’s your favorite color again?” it's cheesy, but it does have it's odd way of working it's magic.

•jason can get into quite an overprotective mode, often getting himself frustrated when he cant disect the root of your problem. “what caused this? tell me so I can fix it." .. "am i going to kill them..? what does it matter?"

•the answer is yes. yes, he is.

•soft-spoken comfort: “don’t worry. i’ll always take care of you.” he has a way of reassuring you even when you have your doubts, almost with an expertise that surprises you. if you were ever questioning his genuinity, he's answered for you.

•possessive guilt-tripper. “i don’t like seeing my favorite person like this. smile for me, will you?” he's sweet, in the worst of ways. jason knew all he had to do was flash you that charming smile of his, and you'd bend to his will. it was both a curse and a blessing.

•makes up some distracting hobby. he invites you to join him on a whim in making something to calm your nerves. (he definitely ends up taking over your craft.)

•encourages gentle insistence much like bloody painter. “you’re allowed to be upset, but not for long. it doesn’t suit you.”

•creepy but.. comforting? reassurance: “nothing bad can happen to you while i’m here. i'll make sure of it.” you aren't allowed out of his sights for a while.

jeff the killer

•mockery overload. “aww, you’re upset? should I call the waaah-mbulance?” he's a fucking asshole and he knows it, but his emotional boundaries hold no shame. if you knew any better, you would think he didn't care if he made you feel better or worse.

•teasing to comfort: purposefully annoys you until you either laugh or yell at him. he is 100%, more than likely aiming for the latter, getting a sick sense of satisfaction from knowing you're wound up now because of him. “see? you’re not upset anymore!”

•he's a twat with territorial anger: if it’s someone else’s fault, he’s immediately ready to fight, thinking of the most irrational ways to kill someone for your sake (though there is already nothing rational about him). “who do i need to carve a smile into?”

•though a selfish sod, he does have some genuinely surprising softness when it comes to you. if you’re genuinely upset, he awkwardly wraps his arm around your shoulder and says, “it’s fine. just... chill, okay?” he's rubbing your back until his hand is numb, or you become agitated.

•clumsy reassurance: “you’ve got me, so who cares about dumb stuff like that?”

•even throughout the comforting, his offer of violence still stands. “say the word, and i’ll make it disappear. permanently.”

•jeff is the absolute fucking worst for guilt deflection. if he caused the inconvenience, he’ll deny responsibility, but quietly try to make it better. he sees admitting to his faults as a weakness, but a few hours later, when he‐ again‐, sees your mood hasn't improved— he's begrudgingly coming over and taking your hand to apologize. his words are lazy sounding, but they are true. it pisses him off that he has to go such lengths to make you feel better, but in the end, it's you. so he'll cope.

jane the killer

•she is a direct comfort sort of woman: “what’s wrong? talk to me.”

•when she notices its an re-occuring issue bothering you more than usual, she'll go into problem-solving mode. jane listens carefully and offers solutions, even if you just want to vent. she loves listening to you talk, even if it's under more unfortunate circumstances.

•has a protective streak much like her male counterpart: “if it’s someone else’s fault, i’ll handle it.” and she means it

•queen of tough love. it's her kingdom. “you’re stronger than this. don’t let it get to you.” she's seen too many people react irrationally because of minor inconveniences (jeff), and she would hate to see you deliberately get into trouble because of something as 'simple' as frustration.

•silent presence: if words won’t help, she stays with you until you feel better. if your room is a mess, she'll clean your clothes off the floor, fold, and carry your laundry to the washer while you relax on your bed. she won't let you leave until she's positive you're at least feeling a little better about your situation, and even then, she's by your side for most the day.

•though she can be just as stubborn as anyone else, jane does make a soft admission: “i hate seeing you so upset. tell me how to help.”

•makes some gentle distraction (unlike clockwork): she suggests watching a movie or doing something fun together to lift your spirits. she will likely end up doing your makeup, the two of you on the floor together until your spirits start to rise.

laughing Jack (i hate this motherfucker)

•over-the-top antics because he's just like that, unfortunately. he's a piece of shit, but tries to make you laugh with ridiculous jokes or obnoxious pranks. a for effort, i guess. he's giving it his best shot.

•much like jeff, being a complete dick, there is that aspect of mock concern: “oh no! we must alert the circus of your sorrow!” sarcastic cunt.

•there is some aspect of unexpected sweetness with him, i would think (hope). if you’re genuinely upset, he tones it down and says, “hey, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

•he's crouching down onto his knees as you sit on the edge of your bed, his large, ugly ass hands cupping your face the best he can without shanking you with his gross, long fingers. his thumbs 'gently' rub your cheeks as he let's you breathe your frustration out.

•clownish ass distractions: pulls out a random toy or silly object to cheer you up. from out of fuck-all nowhere, he pulls a doll out from behind its back. it's even more hideous than him, which is difficult. it's stuffing is gruesomely ripped out, instead, packed full with grotesque looking candies. he'll awkwardly discard it on the floor when he sees it's only made your mood worse. what an idiot.

•chaotic energy: “let’s go do something fun! or dangerous! or both!”

•you don't feel like doing anything

•gentle honesty: “i'm not good at this comforting stuff, but I’m here for you.”, even though you already knew that. though the semblance is appreciated.

kagekao

•you're still a victim of playful mockery. "you look adorable when you’re mad. like a tiny storm cloud". he's mocking you while you want to punch him into a smear.

•teasing distractions. he pokes at your cheeks or steals something of yours to make you chase him. he genuinely does not care that you feel murderous tendencies towards him at the moment. it's his life mission to torment you eternally.

•jovial comfort: “don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything. or, at least, pretend I did.”

•surprise gifts. when he knows he's pushed you too far, he will opt to leave you a random (sometimes unsettling) trinket to cheer you up. he knows he's the source of your agitation, so he tries his 'best' to make up for it.

•more lighthearted annoyance. “you know i can’t take you seriously when you’re pouting like that, right?”

•unexpected wisdom from someone who is such a cunt to deal with. “life’s too short to stress over these things. laugh it off.”

•silently lurks nearby until you calm down, offering his silent presence as comfort.

masky

•masky will often show a reluctant concern, not outright admitting he's worried about your fluctuating attitude, but instead inviting you to chat. “what’s wrong now?” his tone is gruff, but he genuinely cares.

•practical help: masky fixes the problem (if possible) without saying much about it; especially when it comes down to it being an issue with anything containing an engine. if you're frustrated by an issue you're having with your vehicle, calmly, he'll tell you to give him the keys, and if he's feeling nice enough, he'll invite you out to hold the flashlight for him. just make sure you keep it steady.

•vaguely annoyed, but supportive: “seriously? you’re upset over that? fine, let’s deal with it.” he's the type to teach you about fixing your own issues, so you'll know how to deal with it next time.

•protective side: “if you need help with this, come to me. you don't need to be going to.. random guys to fix your car."

•he's definitely jealous at the thought of you going to anyone else for help but him.

•silent comfort if it's anything else that physically, he cant fix. he sits near you, not saying a word but making it clear he’s there for you.

•backhanded affection: “you’re too stubborn to let this keep you down, right?” he knows you'll take it as he's doubting you; and that you'll smarten up quick.

•masky gives you grudging hugs. awkwardly, he pulls you into a hug if you’re really upset— often on the porch as he's having a smoke. you'll be sitting on the steps, tucked up to his side. if he feels nice enough- his jacket will end up slung over your shoulders.

slenderman

•i'm going to be flat with you, he does not care.

•but if he did, he would be calm and composed. it doesn’t affect him, so he has no reason to reacf but to calm you down. “you’re letting this get to you? that’s beneath you.” he sounds unamused.

•stoic support. slenderman offers silent reassurance with his unyielding presence. sometimes he's there, sometimes he isn't. but, you always have that lingering feeling of him being close by. it's both comforting and frightening.

•intimidation tactic: “shall i remove the source of your distress?” he’s deadly serious, for the most part.

•he's slightly patronizing. he doesn't really grasp a sense of confliction about this like you do. he doesn't really get why you're making such a fuss over something so blatant. “this is not worth your energy. focus on what truly matters.”

•both helps and frustrates you more. sometimes it's pointless to explain to him.

•..somewhat gentle understanding. if you’re truly distressed, he places a hand on your shoulder and will tell you to excuse yourself from any activities later in the day.

•eerie distraction: creates a serene yet unnerving environment to take your mind off things. the effort is.. there.

•cryptic advice: “all things are temporary. even this feeling.”

ticci toby

•dry sarcasm “wow, the world’s ending because of this. guess we should all panic.” his tone is teasing but not mean-spirited. he just doesn't understand that it's truly bothering you to that extent, until you breakdown to him.

•gentle understanding: “yeah, okay, I get it. sometimes the little stuff just… builds up.” he leans back and listens without pushing you. he knows you're already overwhelmed, and makes it a point to give you some space while still being there.

•subtle comfort. he offers you his jacket or quietly sits beside you, muttering, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i'm not going anywhere.” like masky, he keeps you close to his side, whether sitting on a log or walking down the path. he'll encourage you to hold onto his arm.

•toby has a protective streak: “tell me who or what caused this. i’ll take care of it.” his voice is calm, but there’s an edge that means he’s serious. he doesn't like the idea of anyone pushing you around— only he can play around with you like that.

•gounding presence: if you’re spiraling, he places a hand on your shoulder or holds your hand. “breathe, okay? just focus on me for a minute.” too many times he's had to do this by himself. he understands the complications of losing yourself— and if you don't have to go through it alone, he won't allow you to.

•dull humor to lighten the mood. "if it makes you feel better, i've probably done something way stupider than whatever you’re upset about.”

•quiet reassurance: “you’ll get through this. you always do. it’s not as big as it feels right now, i promise.” he speaks softly but firmly, making sure you know he’s in your corner. he always is and will be. he's a bit more gentle than the rest.

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

[bloodyboi]

Yandere puppy boy who likes rubbing his scent all over your clothes and your body. He wants other hybrids and humans to know that you are his and his only.

Yandere puppy boy who hates your friends to the point you have to put him in a room so he can’t bite them. He almost bit off of your male friend’s hand all because he touched your shoulder. Why did you let him touch you when your puppy knows you belong to him?



Yandere puppy boy who loves to be a good boy to you. You ask him to clean? He’s doing it immediately. You ask him to stop drooling all over your underwear? He stops…only when you’re at home. He’s an obedient pup who loves his owner very well. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, he can’t help but want to claim you for his own.

Yandere puppy boy who literally licks your neck when given the chance. He licks it slow, taking in your scent and the smell of your perfume/cologne you sprayed on yourself earlier. He gets pushed off you, and scolded for not being considerate at how disgusting it is. He whimpers for your forgiveness…but how can you stay mad at those adorable brown eyes that seem to shimmer in the summer light. You forgive him and immediately he goes back to licking your neck as you sighed.

Yandere puppy boy who tries not to jump on you and just breed you. The way your body is very captivating and looks delicious to taste. He wants to taste what’s between your legs, he sees it as a treat and wants you to let him have a bite. He’s practically drooling when you wear shorts, the way he stares at your thighs. He feels his pants get tight before going to the bathroom and handling his ‘little’ problem.

Yandere puppy boy who suddenly drops his sunny personality when he smells another person’s scent on you. His face hardens with a growl as he pins you to the wall and starts to mark your neck. He’s slobbering all over you and even trying to rip your underwear before you called him a bad boy. He stops and pouts before facing the wall like a bad toddler in time out. All he wanted was to mask you in his scent again.

Yandere puppy boy who tries to cook for you only to fail. He thought he could cook! He seen Brian the family guy dog do it, so why can’t he do in his humanoid form? Sadly you banned him from going to and in the kitchen as long as you were beside him to monitor him.

Yandere puppy boy who pouts when you ignore him. All he did was cum in your underwear..why were you being so cold? He just wanted his scent on something of yours so no other puppy hybrid would try to mate with you.

Yandere puppy boy who claims you as his mate ever since you saved him from the streets. He thinks that making you his lover and mate for life is a good repayment for saving his broken life before he found you. So he’s trying everything to make you his for life.

Yandere puppy boy who will kill anyone for you. Even your family. He loves you too much for you to be sad or any other negative emotion. If anyone bothers you, he’ll handle it like a good boy he is. Don’t worry! He’ll come home late at night with blood drenched on him as he smiles at your sleeping figure. You look so beautiful not knowing what he does for you. He cleans himself and lays in bed with you, holding you in his strong arms. He sniffs your lavender scent and basically hums lowly before falling asleep by you.

[chastiefoul]

regret | alhaitham

a/n: a very messy drabble based on some idea that popped into my head. basically about a y/n who's very in touch with their feelings vs alhaitham handling those feelings (to nobody's surprise, it didn't end well)

tags: angstyyy

part 2 here

1.5k words

to say that you get along with alhaitham would be a stretch.

anyone would agree that your interactions consisted only of you always pestering him and alhaitham barely tolerating it. this causes amusement but also worries, you both being the polar opposites and all.

the arrogant and cold scribe versus the bright and cheery you. there’s a line, a wall if you will; that made everyone wondered, how long would the strange dynamic last before something eventually went wrong.

and it finally did.

❀

hanging out with kaveh is something of a routine, with you studying the same subject; architecture. people were always naturally drawn to you, kaveh wasn’t the exception. you both get along with each other pretty quickly, and he’s been a close friends since. you even got to know alhaitham through him.

alhaitham said once, that you both were pretty similar albeit with different words—or to quote him as he spoke with such exasperation, “archons, now there are two of them.” still however alike, he quietly also thought there’s a key difference, a very apparent contrast that he couldn’t help but notice, even he didn’t try to.

you and kaveh both were very in touch with your emotions, meaning all of your actions often solely driven by feelings. although with kaveh he wasn’t ashamed of this, always stating clearly—or unnecessarily,  if something had upset him. but you on the other hand chose to hide that displeasure, masking it with an uncertain smile, one that’s clearly forced. as though wanting to halt any further argument. that somehow infuriated alhaitham.  

everyday you would always greet him without any care in the world. even though every conversation you had with alhaitham, somehow always turned into something he had to won, that he had to have the last word. he also couldn’t figure it out himself what got him so worked up every time he talked to you.

❀

“kaveh, don’t you think alhaitham is a nice person?” one a peaceful lunch you asked. he shot you a disgusted look, as if the question had offended him. “are you in your right mind?” he quickly retorted. “well despite him looking so fed up and all that, he still talk to us, doesn’t he?” you played your food with your fork. “... and that’s why he’s ‘nice’? dear god the bar is in hell—no it’s even below the devil’s foot itself.” he sighed, really couldn’t believing his ear. what got you so infatuated with him anyway? in all honesty kaveh was having a hard time remembering if there was ever a time where alhaitham was nice to you, he only recalled your cheery attitude getting shot down by alhaitham’s apathy every single time.

wait. he knew what this is.

“you like him.” kaveh suddenly said. you couldn’t turn your head to him any quicker. “what?” you panicked. “you heard me. now i just need to hear you admitting it.” there’s a playful smile on kaveh’s face, he’s teasing. “you won’t, cause i don’t.” you said, trying hard to be calm while eating your food. “mmhm,” kaveh hummed knowingly, an annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you know what? i don’t have to listen to this, i’m leaving.” you pouted, gathering your stuff. “yes, and you know what your in-denial self should listen to instead? me.”

“shut up!”

❀

“good morning, alhaitham!” you greeted him per usual with high energy. he hummed a reply, acknowledging your presence. when you just lingered there showing no sign of leaving he sighed. “how many times do i have to tell you my office is not a playground where you can hang around however you please?” he asked, preparing to sort out the documents from the fresh pile that just came. “i was just—nevermind that, do you need any help?” you asked with a smile. however the harmless question just tick something unpleasant inside of the scribe, he knew you meant well, truly he knew that. “do i look like someone who’s incapable of doing my own job?” he questioned in a cold tone.

“of course not! i just thought since i was a little free-“

“right. you thought, that never went well though, did it?” the viciousness was out of nowhere, you were caught off guard.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you narrowed your eyes at the harsh words—like he was saying that you were some kind of an idiot. he was always ill-tempered towards you, but he didn’t need to be this harsh over a mere offer to help.

alhaitham could feel he was being unreasonably mean, but he just couldn’t stand it. your useless kindness, your warmth, your concerns over his well-being all of these were so strange for him and his initial reaction was to reject and mock them. alhaitham felt like he was above it, it was too troublesome. he was fine living up to this point without the concerns from other people, and he was sure as hell he wasn’t going to start not being fine without it anytime soon.

 “why do you always think i need help? or do i need someone to remind me when to have my meal, or telling me to be conscious of my sleep schedule? frankly, it made me very uncomfortable,” once he started he felt like he couldn’t stop. alhaitham was mad, but if someone had asked him why he also wouldn’t be able to find the words to explain. he just was.

“well excuse me for trying to look out for my friend!” you raised your voice.

“friend? i never once thought of you that way,” he said. that shut you up real quick. the confession left your mouth agape, your chest ached. just what you are to him then, for the past half-year? but then when you think about it again, when has he exactly treat you as if you were something more of an acquaintance? in the end it was on you to assume, but it still hurts nonetheless.

in the brief silence alhaitham found the answer as to why was he so aggravated every time he talked to you.

alhaitham was blunt, he was ruthless in commenting on things that are out of place according to him. he was arrogant, often thinking that he’s above everything else, this include his way of life. a life of solitude; without the need of other people. but then you came, and his principles was shaken. alhaitham was a lot of things, but none would say that he’s fickle. yet, his rage right that second was a living proof that perhaps alhaitham was never the winner of those meaningless conversations he had with you. that truthfully, you already had him at the first good morning greeting you had given him with a bright smile.

and that is alhaitham’s hardest pill to swallow. you, a single person managed to make him almost change his entire life principles he had believed his whole life. and that’s as terrifying as it is infuriating to him. he couldn’t let you sway him more than this.

after what felt like eternity you finally responded.

“there’s a limit to being heartless, don’t you think?” you weakly said, you don’t even know what you were hoping for as a reply honestly. “there’s also should be a limit to your groundless assumptions.” he didn’t even look at you as he said these things, which perhaps good since you seriously couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

you had never believed rumors about people, as you will never know the truth unless you verify it yourself. but there, standing quietly as your tears wet the floor; there was no denying it anymore, alhaitham was indeed a heartless man who has zero empathy towards other living being.

“maybe i was wrong about you, alhaitham.” you smiled sadly.

it’s better this way.

“you were. now if you don’t mind, i have work to do.” he stated firmly, meaning: get out. which you will do gladly once you said your piece.

“it’ll do you good in the future to not be so driven by your emotions,” he still thought he was in a position to lecture you.

“yeah? and it’ll do you to good get off your high horse once in a damn while, you’re not fucking better than everybody else, alhaitham.”

“maybe so, but i certainly know i’m above acting solely over any emotion i’ve felt in the moment. i stopped doing that after i turned six, actually.” to think he'd mock you for crying.

“fuck you, alhaitham. enjoy your ‘alone’ time, i hope it stays that way forever.” you walked away from his office, swearing to yourself that it will be the last time you set foot on that damn place. alhaitham rarely see you frown, and to see you that angry and he was the cause of it.. silence got the better of him, the insides of his chest was swirling, he wasn't sure what to feel.

when your footsteps was finally out of hearing, alhaitham brought his palm to his face, his emotions getting the better of him. he saw the the hurt in your face, it was beyond saving. there’s nothing he could possibly say or do to get you to forgive him. and that was his intention of course, to get you to hate him. but he never thought he’d be ready for that.

alhaitham days quickly returned to the monotous routine. a quiet cycle, he thought he loved that. it's easy to realize that he did not anymore.

he's already so used to you. he kept waiting for you every morning, maybe if he wished hard enough you’d forget everything and just came back like nothing happened. but those days didn’t come, the memory quickly turns into anguish but more than that, regret.

aside from his ego, perhaps this regret is also something he would take to his grave.

-

part 2 maybe??

[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Jude Jazza END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

When I reached out, it was Jude’s hand I took.

Jude: If ya let go of me, I won’t letcha off.

Kate: Okay!

He makes me stand up, and kicks away all those attacking me, one after the other.

Jude: Tch, what kind of management do they have to be so hated like this?

Kate: Should YOU be the one to say that about other people?!

Jude: Don’t say unnecessary things!

The ones who attacked me were thin, and looked very poor.

They’re people who’ve lost something very important to them through gambling.

Even if I do sympathize with them a little, it’s never an excuse to draw deadly weapons.

Jude: Run!

Punching and kicking, he defeats his enemies one after the other, pulling me along strongly, and as we head for the door, we dodge bullets in the thick black smoke.

As we left the casino, explosions sounded behind us.

We kept running until we reached a nearby port.

Jude: I’m havin’ a real shitty day.

Kate: Is it okay now?

Our fastened hands were easily released, and the warmth of my right hand cooled quickly.

Feeling a bit lonely, I opened my mouth to gloss it over.

Kate: In the end, we didn’t collect any evidence.

Jude: There’s evidence.

Kate: What?

I’m not sure where he got it from, but holding a thick ledger in his hands, he handed it to me.

When I looked inside, I saw things other than money that had been wagered in the casino so far, and a list of customers who received them alongside Viscount Smith’s signature.

Kate: When did you get this?!

Jude: Took it from that damned Viscount when the explosion happened.

(I couldn’t see because of the smoke, but I guess that’s what happened.)

Based on the overwhelming evidence, the casino will be brought to justice before her Majesty the Queen.

Just as I was feeling relieved over completing the mission, I suddenly remembered something.

Kate: If I had known that I was being used for collateral, I would’ve bet….

(I knew that Jude would win…..)

Then he made a disgusted expression…..

Jude: Our princess doesn’t seemta understand why she was prohibited.

As we stood facing each other, the sea breeze blew through his hair.

Jude: Ain’t no way someone who shows their emotions so easily could win.

Jude: Imagine how much a young woman without much money would hafta pay if she lost?

(Ah…..)

I recall the words of Viscount Smith and realize.

(Selling my body, experiencing atrocious things, the worst case scenario….)

A chill ran down my spine as I realized how naive I’d been.

The client list had records of women and children being sold, and I finally understood those repeated words had been for my sake.

(Jude said that he’d protect me.)

Feeling mixed emotions of his kindness and my own naivete, i bit my lip and looked down, but when his shoes came into view, I looked up.

Jude: Really, cantcha say thanks to the person who saved ya?

Kate: …! Thank you.

When I expressed my gratitude to him, who is foul-mouthed but kind,

Jude: Seems like Crown’s Fairytale Keeper has grown attached to the admirable Vogel.

Jude: Kissin’ the winner. I think ya wanted that bad personality.

Kate: That’s something Nica said on his own,

Jude: Such good friends that yer on a first name basis. (Jude’s angy face.)

His raised voice and pouty expression, seemed to indicate he was in a bad mood.

Jude: I mean, is the princess even bold ‘nuff to kiss a man herself.

Upset with his making fun of me, I confronted him.

Kate: It’s just a kiss, I can do it.

Jude: If so, then I’ll betcha won’t.

Kate: If I can kiss you?

Jude: I’ll do anythin’ ya say. Probably impossible anyway.

He’s so confident I can’t do it despite my enthusiasm.

We faced and stared at each other for a while,

(Where should I kiss him……) T-T on the lips.

I looked at his lips, but didn’t have the courage, so I felt conflicted,

Jude: ….Ridiculous. (I’m with him on this one.)

He turned on heel and walked away.

Kate: W-wait a minute!

I quickly grabbed his arm and stood on my tip toes as he looked back at me,

Jude: Huh?

I kissed his forehead.

Kate: ….I kissed you.

Kate: Now, please listen to what I have to say.

He put his hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly open,

Kate: I’m Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, not Vogel’s Fairytale Keeper!

Starting to feel embarrassed, I ran past him.

Kate: That’s why I’m going home!

A few seconds later, with the sound of him turning around, only one word was heard.

Jude: Kid.

(He’s making fun of me again…..!)

When I turned to say something back, I saw the softest expression on his face.

Kate: Huh……

It was as warm as sunlight, and it was the first time I’d seen it.

It felt like time had stopped for a moment,

Jude: What kinda dumb look are ya makin’?

His grumpy face returned immediately.

Jude: Hurry ‘n go home.

He started walking and I followed him quickly.

Kate: Please wait!

Perhaps the reason why I didn’t stand next to the swinging jacket that was a step ahead of me, was because the excitement I felt still hadn’t gone away.

[Master List] [Jude Epilogue]

Heh, jelly Jude. Pouty Jude. More of that please.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[la2yn0va]

Apathy Bias

CW: None, unless apathy is a trigger for ya… wait I lied, slight religious/cult topics

Plot: Reader is apathetic towards everything and one, but shows emotions towards others who’re his favorites.

Characters: Herta’s Spacestation, Belabog, Xianzhou Alliance, Penacony.

———

Everyone always knew you were.. emotionally detached. But your dear acolytes still craved your attention. Your cold and narrow eyes accidentally glaring down at everyone as you play the game, yet there’s some characters whom gain your softer gaze.

Everyone was curious. Why did your facial muscles seem more relaxed? What was it about these characters that made you more calm? They knew the answer, however, jealousy kept them from admitting it.

They simply couldn’t believe it. GOD having favorites? Impossible! Even if that were the case, what made them so special!? Was it their playstyle? Their looks!? Their backstory!!? PERSONALITY!!!? Did those characters simply pray more?

They tried every excuse in the book, perhaps those characters somehow drugged you? Or perhaps they simply did more damage?! Or maybe you just like the path they follow!! But, all the excuses disappeared once they managed to summon you.

While you showed everyone the same amount of neutrality and respect, your… favorites, got special attention. And who were your favorites? Well…. (I don’t know yall’s favorites so imma just use mine)

Herta’s Spacestation — Ruan Mei:

This was the least surprising for all your acolytes. After all both of you were smart, attractive, and emotionally detached. You showed interest in her creations and liked to use her in all your teams.

Ruan Mei was pretty surprised. Yes she craved your attention and DNA, but she always believed you would’ve been disgusted with her. How morally ambiguous she was, how much of an outcast she was in the genius society also didn’t help.

So to see your eyes become gentle whenever she’s mentioned or on the screen made her feel happiness—hell, that was selling it short, she was over the fucking cosmos, she was on cloud 9 24/7, she felt love like she never felt before.

Ruan Mei, once you descend, always provides you with sweet and desserts she personally makes. She also makes one of those ‘cat pillows’ for you that has a mixture of her and your DNA. Gifting it to you as a present.

Belabog — Luka:

Pretty surprising, considering how introverted you were/seemed to them. They mearly chalked it up to you respecting his fighting spirit, until you descend.

Luka felt his heart beat faster. He always thought you’d like Seele or Bronya more considering they were in the main story quest! He’s definitely a bragging little shit about it, but only to Seele, who’s second place in your favorites in belabog.

Luka always fights to his fullest potential, believing it to be a sin if he doesn’t fight at his best for your entertainment. He gets completely ashamed of himself when he lost to Svarog, he tried his fucking damnest but still lost.

When he woke up from his coma, he felt completely embarrassed, he felt like a failure. He immediately tried to go back and fight Svarog again, it took Natasha, Oleg, the trailblazer, and Seele to stop him.

Ultimately, he stopped when he heard your voice, telling him to just ‘take the L and train harder. There’s always next time’

Luka prays more and trains infront of your statue, making sure to put on a show for you. He doesn’t want you to see him as unworthy after losing to Svarog.

Xianzhou Alliance — Feixiao (I know, your shocked)

At first, your favorite was Jing yuan. After all he fought with a fucking Susanoo. Until feixiao came out. You fell in love with her INSTANTLY. The hair, the eyes, the drip, the smile, the weapon, everything about her was fucking awesome.

Jing yuan had never known betrayal or pain in his entire life. He felt like rain of arrows constantly pierced his already damaged heart. But no one cares about him anymore, let’s talk about feixiao.

She took this as the ultimate win against all the generals. The youngest general who also has the supreme one’s favor. She also uses you and your favoritism to dodge paperwork.

When you decide, feixiao is quick to become your bodyguard of the xianzhou. She also picks you up bridal style or gives you piggy back rides for free… well, not really, she does tease you about it.

Feixiao will personally teach you how to fight if you want to learn. After all you get her out of doing paperwork and she’s your favorite acolyte in the xianzhou. It’s only fair right?

One day when she didn’t want to do paperwork, the most shocking yet loving gesture that ever happened to her in her life, slapped her in the face. You took her paperwork… and so it for her.

She would’ve proposed to you right then and there if she didn’t get stage fright/believed she was imagining it. Why would you torture yourself for her like this?!

When you were finished, she felt IMMENSELY guilty for abusing your favoritism the way she did. Your words after didn’t help quell her guilt “There. No more paperwork…! We can.. hangout now, right?”

From that moment fourth, feixiao never used your name to skip any paperwork. Also she tries to flirt with you, which goes over your head. Every. Time.

Penacony — No one.

“Eh… everyone here is just kinda average for me…”

The IPC — None

“I ain’t friends with the FUCKING FEDS!!” “These dicks aren’t villains, they’re just assholes! 700 years ago they promised to help belabog and they never did! They’re like the friend that promised to pay you back your 20 bucks and never does!” “I would rather defend Griffith then hang around these waste of human organs”

-The End-

I was gonna do more but I started getting tired/bored/stressed due to the impending doom that is school. Also, I’m so bored… I wanna do a QnA.

Ask questions IN THE COMMENTS OF THIS POST!! If you ask a question in the request box, I’m slapping you diagonally.

Deadline is… idk Saturday or Sunday

[bella-goths-wife]

How the yandere bowers gang love reader

I’m just a girl trying to be deep with her writing while very sick and in her feels so please tolerate my trash 🙏

Warnings: non-con mentions but not explicit, mommy issues, daddy issues, physical abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, injuries, forced relationships, dead dove do not eat, yandere behaviour, obsession

I do not condone or romanticise abuse, the abuse I write about is purely to educate and entertain. Please do not romanticise the abuse that is occurring.

MDNI

Henry bowers:

Love is a strong word, it’s not the pure love that you’d dreamed about since you were a little girl

No, this love is deeply depraved and disgusting

He cares about you in his own way, he’d kill someone if they ever hurt you with the same hands that have carved his initials into your delicate body

But he does love you, for some inconvenience reason he does love you in his sick and twisted reason

He views you as someone who can take care of him, someone who can make his lunches and make him feel better after a bad day

He would never admit it, but he sees you as someone who could fill the void his mother left

He loved and adored his mother more than anyone else in the world and she left him, so he had no one to pour all of those feelings into until he met you

Except these feelings are increased and made more sickening

That’s one of the reasons that, unlike Patrick, he won’t force himself on you

He tried to, believe him he really tried

But all he could think about was when he saw his dad do it to his mom, and the look of pure horror on his moms face

He could definitely see himself marrying you one day, I mean, he’s the one in the group who deserves you the most after all

He’d kill the other boys if he had to, he may see them as his brothers

But you, he sees you as his wife and the person who will carry his future children

Patrick Hockstetter:

Patrick’s love is based in lust, but isn’t entirely consumed by it

He knew he was attracted to you from the start, he probably would have tried to drag you off at a party before Henry staked his claim on you

He is mostly obsessed with the way he can control you

He, as Henry’s unofficial second hand, has the second most control over you

And he loves you for it

He can control what you eat, how you dress and how you spend your time

He can control if you breath during the times he chokes you

He blames it on his mothers death or his ‘rough childhood’ but he’s just a sociopath

Genuinely, I know I’ve been adding in what factors to them being like this for the rest but for Patrick it’s simple

He’s a sociopath

You may be wondering how a sociopath is capable of love, and well he’s not fully in love

He’s obsessed with you and some part of him cares about you, the same way he would care if his car got scratched

Your a possession, he doesn’t care about your personality or your likes and dislikes

But you intrigue and entertain him enough to get his loyalty in exchange for what you can do for him

He doesn’t feel guilt for how he and the others treat you and he doesn’t feel bad for the fact that they are completely destroying you

He’s the only one to actually recognise that what they all do to you is making you slowly break, he just does not care

As long as your not hurting yourself or others are hurting you, he does not feel the need to care about what happens to you

He doesn’t even care about the fact that he’s sexually assaulting you

He would enjoy it more if you were actively consenting but he doesn’t care that you don’t

Because for him sex isn’t about pleasure, it’s about control and when he has sex with you he’s showing you another form of his control over you

So yes, in a way Patrick does love you

But it’s the similar way he would love a pet or a shiny care, as soon as you lose your entertainment value then you’d become nothing to him

Unluckily for you, as long as the rest are interested in you you’ll never not be entertaining for Patrick

And as you can see, that’s unlikely to happen

Victor cross:

Victors love is based in possession

He knows your Henry’s girl

Henry may share you with the rest of the group, but you belong to Henry

That’s always how it’s been in the group

Anything vic owned Henry would eventually take away from him

He views Henry as a brother, but some dark part of victor hates him

Especially when it comes to you

Victor sees how rough Henry is with his affection towards you, Victor could be so much gentler than him

Victor wants to own you, to possess you fully

He wants you to only think about him, to only speak to him, to only fuck him and to only be with him

He has fantasies of killing the others and locking you away so you can stay with him together

He chalks it up to having everything he’s over owned taken away from him by the others, but it’s more than that

He wants revenge

He sees how the others are obsessed with you and how they love you, the same way he loved all the possessions they took from him

He wants to take you away the way they took his things

And he’ll kill the others if he has too

Belch Huggins:

Belch loves you for your approval of him

His entire life he has lacked people being proud of him

He has a dead dad and an absent mom, he wasn’t really spoiled for choice when it comes to people who appreciated him

He thought his growth at such an early age would gain him approval, but it only gained him fearful looks

But you changed that

You may not remember the insignificant comment you made but he’ll always remember it

“Wow, your pretty strong” you had commented once after he had picked you up to take you to bed “you’d be good to practice lifts with”

He felt a surge of adoration after you said that

Finally, someone decided he was worth something

You decided he was worth practicing with you, you practically decided he deserved to live in his eyes

He’ll be anything or say anything to make you approve of him

Accept for defying Henry

Henry knows best, and Henry knows when you need to be disciplined for you own good

So no matter how much you look at him with those beautiful sorrow filled eyes, he has to do what he has to do to make sure you are given the best chance at the life you need

At least, the life that Henry decided that you need

He loves you deeply and with a sense of desperation

At times he would seem like a puppy desperate for your love and attention, the other times he would seem like a threat who could kill you at any moment

[poundstonaira]

Premonition - Albert Wesker x Reader

CW: PinV, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Age Difference, Doctor Reader, Good Albert Wesker, Doggy, Dubious Consent, Friendly Experiment, Porn with Plot, Possessiveness, Resident Evil 0 Wesker.

Word Count: 7,057

Song Inspiration : Moment by Victoria Moment

Summary: You should've known something was wrong as soon as your hard-headed, cold, hostile, and rude boss easily agreed to help you with your experiment for the effects of the new drug you developed by yourself. Yet, you ignored all worries and thought nothing of it. Silly you.

“Oh Dr. Wesker~” You sang behind your boss, tapping your red bottom pumps on the floor to get his attention even more. Since your boss was so stern and hostile all the time, you attempted to put effort into trying to get some physical emotion out of the man every time you greeted him. From your getting, he only turned his head to look at you with a straight face, but you could tell he was also looking at you in disgust from behind those black shades of his.

“What do you want?” He asked disinterestedly, his hands in his lab coat pockets, seeming as if he was eager for you to leave him alone. 

“To bother you.” You stuck your tongue at him. At this action, your boss started to walk away, not in the mood for your childish attitude. You quickly walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. “I’m joking. I have developed a new supplement and I need someone to experiment on-” 

“Go ahead and find someone else to use. I am not your mutt.” Wesker stated bluntly, not looking at you. Hearing that stung a little bit, but that was the expected attitude coming from the man. It still wasn’t nice to hear. You started to think back on if this was all worth it, was it a good thing he doesn’t want to help you? You haven’t even told him the planned experiment yet and he’s already refusing to help you. Maybe this is a sign that you should get someone else to help you, just as he said. 

But it’s too bad, your young, persistent self refuses to accept this rejection. You stood firm and let out a huff. 

“You’re right, you’re not.” You started, which caused Wesker to turn around face you fully, his eyebrow raised in what seems like amusement. “You are my colleague. You’re my boss. Which means I think you should help me.” You finished, your eyes were squinted as you held your notepad tightly to your chest in hopes that he doesn’t reject you again.

Who are you kidding? He’s Albert Wesker. He’s a cold son of a bitch. Of course it’s going to be nearly impossible to get him to help you with anything. 

“What makes you think you have the privilege to ask me to do you any favors?” He questioned you and you could’ve sworn the side of his lip curved upward, as if he was trying to mock you. 

“If you help me, I’ll never bother you for anything again, not even trying to wear your stupid sunglasses.” You had to look away, pouting your lips. Now you were feeling cold sweat run down your spine. Was it really wise to call his glasses ‘stupid’? He wears them all the time, even when it is nighttime and underground.  

Wesker then lets out a deep sigh and adjusts his glasses.

“My sunglasses are not stupid but fine, get on with it.” 

Your eyes lit up, mouth slightly agape. There’s no way. Just like that? 

…

“You made a pill to enhance sexual performance? That already exists.” Wesker spoke as he took off his lab coat and put it on the hook near your desk. 

Your desk had a computer on it that was bluetoothed to the bed itself. When powered on, the computer tracks and sees sounds and images from the person who was on the bed, but that was only if they were unconscious. How did you engineer it to work? You don’t even know yourself.

“Correct but, the effect is different on the human body. The one I made first makes the body sleepy, then falls into a dormant state, after that, supposedly, the human will then have… suggestive dreams. Dreaming about their crush or significant other…” You had to look away due to immense embarrassment, your face got hot. “Erm… fucking them.”

Wesker took those black sunglasses off and side-eyed you so hard it felt as if he was ripping your soul apart with those aegean blue eyes of his. How beautifully damaging. You still feel them on you, even though you were looking away.

“You’re crazy.” Wesker let out a deep sigh. You look back to see Wesker running a hand through those luscious, blond locks of hair. The sight slightly made your heart swoon. It’s not as if you had a crush on your boss or anything, you just found him to be really attractive. Then again, what did I expect from a 23 year old woman?” 

“I get it, Albert. You’re touching 40.” Wesker shook his head.

“Hurry up, I want to go home.” 

“Never knew you were such a grumpy old man, doctor. It’s only 9PM.” You let out a dry laugh.

“You don’t know what it's like having two jobs, little girl.”  

“Anyways, here you go. Take it when you’re ready.” Once Wesker sat on the bed, you carefully eyed the blue capsule and a cup of water in his hands.

Nothing should go wrong. Matter of fact, you don’t think anything is going to happen to Wesker, considering how he has “superior” genes or whatever that means. 

Watching Wesker’s dream was like watching an unreleased sex-tape that had to stay private because of how lewd it was. You’ve never done half of the things he was imagining with you. 

You guys were both naked,your underwear, bra, your bodycon dress, red bottom pumps, and white lab scattered on the floor next to Wesker’s black clothing and his lab coat. You were posed like a nymphomaniac, on your hands and knees, looking back at your boss with a flushed, sensual expression on your face. Eyes squinted, mouth opened from panting, the aftermath of him eating you out.   

“I have waited a long time for this moment. I thought of you. What I would do with you. How many ways I could give you pleasure.” Through his black boxers, you could see how hard he was for you, he ached for you. His erection was so hard, you could’ve sworn that the fabric of the boxers had ripped just from the tip of it. And, damn was he big. 

It didn’t matter how many times you blinked or pinched yourself. What you were seeing on the screen was indeed, a combined build of almost everything your boss has been wanting to do to you. 

You saw him pull his boxers down to reveal his long length. You almost would have woken his actual body up with how loud you yelped at the sight of it on screen. You can’t even write any notes about your current experiment down because you were in absolute shock. This man was an absolute Greek god, or so you thought.

He was so eager that he didn’t even bother to tease your wet sex, he thrusted right into you with brute force, earning a loud, wanton moan from you. It didn’t cover up the wet, moist sound of him entering you, though.

“I was bewildered when you told me earlier that you were able to develop a drug all by yourself…” On the screen, you saw him give your hair a sharp tug as he thrusted into you again, you heard yourself yelp. “You’re such a good girl, doctor. I knew you could make me proud.” 

You were so stunned that tears threatened to leave your eyes. Your mouth was so wide open that you were practically drooling at the sight of yourself getting fucked by Wesker. There is just no way on this planet that Wesker out of all people thought of you like that. 

The stopwatch was currently at seven minutes in on the dot. You decided to try and write down some notes of how the experiment was going so far. But what would you even write down when you literally hear boss’s imagination of the dream him fucking you from behind? Not to mention his actual body on the bed is sweating, letting out loud, shaken breaths. His erection threatened to make a hole in the black slacks that he was currently wearing.

There was too much going on. And what would happen to you when your boss wakes up? Would he fire you? Would he punish you? You don’t even want to think about it. Then again, he did agree to this. But, you didn’t think that the blue capsule would have this much of an effect on him, you thought with how strong he was, how he rarely gets sick, ,and how superior his genetics are, nothing would have happened to him.

‘There is absolutely too much going on. I’m even scared to leave the room. Oh goodness gracious. What was I thinking?’  

It got even worse. With one hand, he held onto your hips, the other hand had already gone to your hair again, pulling it as he kept his brutal attacks to your sex. You heard yourself screaming in pleasure so loud, you could’ve sworn people in the other labs could hear you. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was only on the screen and not happening in real life. 

You could throw up right now with how overwhelmed you felt. You tried to ignore the warm pool you felt in your stomach but you couldn’t. Were you really getting aroused by watching your boss’ dreams? What was happening to you? Sure, Wesker was a fine man. You could even say he was crafted from the Gods themselves. He had it all; the height, the body, the grace, the voice, the aura, the abs for crying out loud. But, you have never stooped so low that you could even imagine yourself getting a chance to sleep with him. Not like this. This was purely by chance. 

Your legs felt weak and your body almost went limp as the noises of your whimpers and high pitched moans, combined with Wesker’s low growls and grunts. Hearing him and you was almost driving you mad at this point. You wanted to wake him up but you hesitated, not knowing what’ll happen to you if you did. At the same time, you were almost about to jump out the nearest window if you were to hear the sounds of your boss fucking the shit out of you for even a minute longer.

‘What have I done?’ You said to yourself, your hands now to your mouth again as you attempted to suppress another gasp. You could truly throw up right now.  

“I-I can’t take it anymore… I think I’m gonna come…” You heard yourself gasp, afraid that you couldn’t accommodate his body. Not like this, not when he gripped your hips and pulled your ass back toward, as he drove in relentlessly, ruthlessly into your tight channel once again. You were such a whimpering, whining, moaning mess under his touch. The sounds of skin slapping and the bed squeaking very loudly filled the room.

“That’s it, my gorgeous slut. Come for me. Burn for me.” He leaned to whisper into your ear, releasing a low chuckle right after, showing a devilish smile. You could’ve fallen to your knees at the sight. You were trapped in his hold, he took his time as he still continued his assault on your pussy. You saw your own tear-filled eyes trying to stay open, mouth slightly ajar with drool dripping from it, hands losing the strength to grip onto the sheets still. 

It seemed as if Wesker was fucking you so hard that you were about to pass out. 

‘Am I about to pass out?’ You thought to yourself, still watching in shock. 

You heard Wesker reach his climax as he let out a deep moan, panting right after. On the other hand, you actually passed out on the bed, covered in sweat as Wesker’s hands were still on you. He pulled out, his cum dripping out of you and on the bed between your legs. Drip. Drip. Drip.  

  ‘What the hell did I just watch?’ You blinked rapidly. Now staring at your boss' physical body, he cock got harder, from inside his pants, he was sweating himself, that handsome, sculpted face of his slightly twitched from what seems like both arousal and uncomfort. The screen turned off, which meant that Wesker is not dreaming anymore and that he will awaken soon.

Your whole body was shaking now. There were a plethora of emotions that you were feeling. But which exact emotion were you feeling precisely? Was it confusion? Were you shocked? Were you surprised? Were you disgusted that your boss basically dreamed of doing this to you? Did he actually want to do this to you or was this the effect of the capsule? You wrote down everything that just happened in a few, messy bullet points before you heard some heavy breathing from the bed. 

Albert’s eyes were open.

"Doctor Wesker? Is everything okay?" You asked, walking closer to him. His eyes finally landed on you after staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. 

He does nothing but stare at you with narrowed eyes and a slightly opened mouth as he breathes heavily, still sweating. He appears to be getting off the bed and slowly coming towards your direction.

"Oh no..." You mutter to yourself, backing away and running towards the door. At this point, your body felt light, your organs started to sink towards your stomach along with your heart. You open the door quickly, thanking yourself for not locking it earlier. You run out trying to find another room to hide in.

This isn't good. Wesker didn't even have to say anything to you for you to know his next actions. You were his target. And, to make things even better for yourself, it was literally only you two in the whole building, which meant that most of the doors in the hallways were locked. Great.

Running down the hall was one thing, but here Wesker's footsteps basically right behind you doesn't help the fact that you feel your heart in your stomach, you're sweating, and you're visibly shaking. You didn't think this would happen. 

With your white lab coat and the low-heeled red bottoms you chose to wear were slowing you down, you were already running out of stamina and options. 

'Shit. What do I do?' You turn around to see Wesker already three feet away from you. You don't look at his face in case you fall into his charms even more, trying to forget the way he was fucking you in his dream on the screen earlier. 

You can run away but, what was the point? You got him and yourself into this, even if you didn't think it would end up like this. 

You still decided to run further down the hallway. Your shorter legs compared to Wesker had nothing compared to his long, slow strides towards your moving position. Your heart stopped as you felt a sharp tug on your white lab coat, the tug was so strong that you lost your balance, which resulted in you falling back onto Wesker’s chest with a thump and a small scream at the feel of his erection against your backside. 

"Where do you think you're running to, Doctor?" He whispered in your ear. That low, deep transatlantic accent sends shivers down your spine. 

"..." You were speechless, you let out a small, nervous laugh, accepting your fate. “Uhm…” You looked for your answer but couldn’t find it. The proximity between you was terrifying, it was almost enough to make you pass out.  

“Answer me.” He demanded right in your ear, pushing you to the nearest wall with no effort, still basically pressing himself right against you. It sends shivers down your spine. You let out a small, short scream.  

“I can’t…” You chirped, still trying to contain your anxious laughter. 

“Why are you running away from something that you started? Is this not what you wanted?” Wesker whispered into your ear, questioning you and your motives. One of his hands snaked its way to your left breast and the other rested on your waist. You let out another nervous laugh, trying to think if you could survive what was about to happen to you. You were finished. You were so fucked. You’d be lucky to even think about escaping this building alive. 

‘I don’t regret anything but I didn’t think it would end up like this!’ You panicked in your head, blinking rapidly against the wall. All of a sudden, you were lifted off of your feet and onto Wesker’s shoulder in an instant. It happened so fast that you didn’t know how to react. 

“Wait–wait–wait Wesker, can you please relax!? I’m sure we don’t need to resort to intercourse to–” You were spurting out your proposal to an alternate plan before you felt a sharp sting on your ass cheek. 

“That is the solution. It is the only way I’ll be satisfied, dearheart.” You heard Wesker casually say as he walked the both of you and him back to your lab. It didn’t matter how much you squirmed and struggled in his grasp, he was too strong. His grip on you felt like a chokehold. 

“B-but I’m sure we can figure out a solution to this… can we?” Your voice high-pitched out of nervousness and a tad bit of excitement. You guys finally made it to your room and he automatically placed you in front of him, using his hand to force you down to the middle and your hands to the edge of the bed. You feel a pool in your stomach as you can feel his hard erection grinding against your fabric covering your ass.

“I’m afraid not– having such control over you is more than enough to fulfill my needs.” A quiet groan left his mouth as his left hand held your hip still so that you weren’t trying to run away. Wesker leans down so he is right at your right ear. "Your body is a beautiful playground and I plan to explore every inch of it." And you could’ve sworn that your heart almost left your body. 

“I knew I should’ve gotten Leon to do this instead…” You thought to yourself. 

Or so you thought. 

“What did you just say?” You feel a sharp tug on your hair. 

“What? I didn’t-” You tried to protest but you felt another slap on your ass. He was in your ear again, his cold, minty breath landing on the side of your face. You looked straight ahead as you felt his ice blue eyes directly on you. 

“You just say that the little pathetic rookie over at the police department should’ve been the one helping you instead of me. Do you really think he’s a better man than me?” 

“Doctor, I didn’t say that…” You whined, closing your eyes, wondering how you got to this moment. 

“But you did.”

“I-I didn’t say any of that.” The grinding got worse, the friction of his erection against the fabrics covering your ass did not make it any better, you were making it obvious that you were soaked by letting out a small whine with each dry thrust that Wesker did against you, his low groans were all you heard as you bit your bottom lip.

“Do you really think that rookie can please you like this ? Have you soaking through your panties like this ?” 

“Fuck…” 

You didn’t mind any of this at all, it was just that you wish you had more control over the situation than you had intended, and, there’s no condom in sight, and you weren’t on birth control because you were afraid it would mess up your body. 

And, Wesker isn’t even himself right now, which means nothing is off limits. Nothing. Uh oh. 

He snatched your lab coat off of you, threw it on the ground, then he lifted your dress up, revealing your wet panties. You shivered with excitement, but you tried not to make it obvious. You could hear Wesker let out a deep chuckle from behind you, his hands now steady on your hips right before he slid your wet underwear down your legs and off of you. Now you were really embarrassed, you threw your head down on to the bed, trying to hide the sounds of your whines. You heard him put your underwear into the pocket of his pants. 

“Harvesting I see…” You sighed, feeling yourself getting impatient. 

“Of course, I can smell your sweet nectar all the way from here, my love. I plan to own a collection of your under garments every time I get to fuck you.” Fireflies swarmed around your body, mainly affecting the pit of your stomach and your mind, making you lightheaded. 

Wesker pushes you further towards the middle of the bed, causing you to let out a small yelp, holding onto your hips for good measures, making sure that you don’t try to run away from him, even though you didn’t have the intent of doing so. 

“Fuck… you’re dripping so much, dearheart. You’ve been wanting, needing this, haven’t you?” Your boss purred from behind you, slipping two fingers at your folds, causing you to let out a small moan. 

But were you actually dreaming of this? You always found Wesker to be such a attractive man; it was those captivating, cerulean eyes, his pale, alabaster toned skin that had such toned and attractive muscles that covered it, that perfectly slicked back, golden blond locks that sat on his head, that straight nose of his, and those thin but sinister lips that you knew did damage to any woman he put them on. 

Albert Wesker was a dangerous man, but you still decided to step into that danger. It was funny how ballsy you were, and look where you were: In your lab, on the bed, on your hands and knees in front of your boss, a mess with your core soaked, dripping onto said bed, and his fingers toying with your flower. Did you regret having him do this? You were too horny to answer that. 

Your thoughts were cut off by Albert putting a finger inside of you and placing another one directly on your clit before he started rubbing his fingers against you. It was electrifying to say the least. He was so skilled, he pleased your clit with an effortless try. It made you such a moaning mess with every move he did. What a bastard!

“You’re moaning so loud for me and you haven’t even met my cock yet.” Wesker chuckled, continuing his foul movements with his fingers, moving them back to your folds, rubbing them faster. 

“Nghh– fuck …” You couldn’t even speak properly, you were such a wet, sloppy mess down there. 

“Are you close, doctor?” He laughed lowly, picking up the pace, splashing your juices upon your close arrival. “I would love to make you cum due to your own experiment.” He added, then slowed down. 

“Y-yes—- oh-” As you were about to come, he flipped you over with such pace that the room was spinning, to where he could see your flushed, sweaty face. 

‘He edged me… what a prick.’

“I apologize for cutting you off at the heat of the moment but I’m growing impatient.” He licked your nectar off of his fingers which made you cringe. 

He dipped his head down towards your neck, lifting your dress up even more, and taking it completely off of you. Wesker gave you several, slow, lingering licks, flicking his tongue, suddenly, tugging gently with his teeth, deliberately sending dancing flames around your body. He went down to your breasts, alternating between fast and gentle, slow and hard bites and licks, marking you, leaving signs of ownership on you. 

“Mine…” He groaned before leaving another wet lick on your sensitive buds. All the while, his fingers teased just above your glistening cauldron of heat. Muscles were ripping in your stomach, and your hips arched in desperation. 

“You have to do something…” Your breath came out in a little sob. You were covered in both your sweat and his cold saliva. 

Albert leaned back up, staring down at you with that cold, possessive and hot gaze of his as his fingers undid every button of that black shirt of his, one by one. Revealing his chest. He was a sight to behold, it was too much for you to stomach. His abs were toned, defined, muscular, and perfect . He was an adonis. You were snapped out of your daze of the lovely sight in front of you when you heard the shirt plot to the ground along with the sound of the zipper of his pants going undone, then the sound of his boxers slipping down his legs. 

He leaned back down. He was at the very center of your heat as you laid beneath him, fingernails gripping the sheets, your body arched, your throat bared as you threw your head back and lifted your hips. His wintery gaze met yours, aroused, urgent. 

Oh, and his smile was an absolute sin, he caught your thighs and spread you wider for him. Wesker’s gaze grew hotter, much sinister and all too sexual. Immediately, he bent his head and he drank you. 

As soon as his tongue touched you, you could no longer keep quiet, you moaned louder than toy did before. Your vision was shattering in the moment, you invisible circles coming from the light above. You felt your throat getting sore from how loud you scream. You were lucky that no one else was in the building besides the two of you. 

He lapped you, speared you, licked you so fast that you were seeing stars. Your muscles in your silk canal clenched and pulsed, and his hands held you down with strength you didn’t know was possible. This was all so tortuous, and there was nothing you could do about it but take it all in. You could see his eyes closed as he carefully slid his tongue against your folds, then to your opening, finally, to your clit, grazing it lightly but ever so painfully.It was crazy but unsurprising how skilled he was. But then again there was no way he could be a virgin, just look at him and how he was drinking you like a voracious beast. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He licked your clit again, his voice hoarse, looking up at your dazed, tear-filled eyes as you let out another wanton moan. “Oh, yeah, dearheart, you definitely like that.”

“I’m not certain I can stand this for much longer…” You gasped, digging your fingers further into the mattress, desperately trying to find something to hold on to. “I can’t take it.” 

“Yes you can. You will take whatever I give you. Let me make you scream, dearheart. I will make you so mindless with pleasure you do not know any other name but mine.” His voice was pure seduction, caressing your skin the way his fingers did to your hips, there were little bruises there from how tight he was gripping you. 

His tongue licked your clit rapidly and you could feel your body losing control, malfunction due to how overstimulated you were. Pleasure was bursting through you as you came and he licked it all up and swallowed your come. You buckled hard against his mouth, unable to stop yourself from the mind-numbing pleasure that came upon you.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before he flipped you around, catching your hips and pulling your ass back towards him, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your back to hold you in place. He placed the tip of his cock at your wet entrance, teasing your desperate body for a needy response.  

‘I can’t wait any longer…’ Your intrusive thoughts took over you as you pushed yourself back quickly, causing his cock to be plunged inside of you, making you let out a scream of shock and pleasure. He was bigger than you thought, he was thick and so hard, like a steel spear pushing through your soft folds. “You’re too big.” You gasped.

“I’ve been waiting for this. I haven’t been able to find peace with myself until I was able to find myself buried inside of you, princess.” 

It was like you were scared because you thought that you couldn’t accommodate his body and his size, not like this, not when he gripped your hips and pulled your ass back toward him and drove into you relentlessly, mercilessly through your tight pussy.

“You’re so tight, my dear.” He groaned, taking in the wet sound of him sliding in and out of you. He held you completely under his control, taking his time to thrust into that hot, silky channel, it was as soft as silk.

“You have to stop…” You let out a high pitched whine, you altered your neck so that you could see his face behind you. He was fast and brutal with his thrusts. It felt amazing but you could sense that your stomach was going to hurt with the pace he was going, even the position itself was overbearing. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him back to get him to slow down. As if that was going to do anything. 

“No.” He grabbed your arm and hung onto it as he placed it behind your back, thrusting in and out of you even faster as a way of punishment. “Don’t do that.”  

“I-it’s too much…” You cried, drooling came out of your mouth. Your body was on cloud nine at that point. Wesker sensed that your release was coming, and so was his from how sloppy his thrusts were. 

“That’s it. That’s a good girl. Come for me. Burn for me.” Multiple orgasms were tearing through your body, sweeping through every part of you like a riptide wave, each one was stronger than the last. The sensitiveness ripped through you like nothing through your powerful spasms. 

Wesker’s release was merciless, the flame tearing up his spine and churning in his belly, while your canal squeezed and gripped him, milking out white jets of hot semen from his body.  

In an instant you were out for the count. As soon as he pulled out, your body flopped onto the bed and you were fast asleep. 

Your abdomen was hurting, and it was hurting really bad. It felt as if you had a cramp, but you weren’t on your period. 

It was the rough sex you had yesterday with your boss.

Now, the real question was, did you think that it was worth it? The experiment with the pill and the aftermath, did you really think it was all worth it? 

Well, from the way your throat was hurting after all the screaming and moaning you did from the way Albert Wesker had his way with you, it was most likely obvious the answer was yes.

The real question was how you ended up back home and in your bed; you couldn’t remember anything from last night after you passed out in your lab. You also didn’t feel like going into work today, your body was too sore and you felt too weak to even do simple tasks. This all sucked but, at the same time it didn’t. The testing for your pill went well but you were so sore that you winced at the pain in your stomach and back. 

Things didn’t get better once you heard a knock at your front door. 

“Who's knocking at my door…” You groaned, checking your phone for the time. “It’s literally six in the morning for crying out loud.” You then whined, slowly getting up out of your bed so that you don’t feel too much pain. You were already wearing your comfy pyjamas set so all you did was put on your robe and house slippers. You walked down stairs as quickly as you could and opened the front door. 

It was Wesker. He didn’t have his glasses on, so his baby blue eyes bore right into yours as soon as you opened the door. Instead, he wore a black Thunderbird sweater, black and white heavy fleece sweatpants, and black ugg slippers, which were all from Fear of God’s mainline. This man had an expensive taste in clothing, which was not surprising from the way he dresses at the work. He also had a grocery bag in his hand, it looked quite heavy.

“You…” You sighed, looking at your boss up and down, your mind imaging his body from yesterday night. It was so hard to control your mind in this state when you were yearning for more of him. And then you scoffed when you realised how much money could just be casually sitting in his platinum AMEX card at this moment. This bastard of a man did a number on you and it was all your fault. 

“Well, good morning to you, _/_.” Wesker responds to you bluntly, rolling his eyes at your bad greeting. You step out the way so he can come in and his scent almost devours you; hints of geranium and uplifting lemon take on your senses and you almost lose your balance. The other notes of the fragrance he used must’ve had depths of cinnamon and cardamom. Damn, he smelt divine. You close and lock the front door behind you. Wesker already makes himself as home as he places the bag he had on your coffee table.

“Sir, why are you here so early? It’s six in the morning.” You asked him in a whiny tone. You seriously didn't have the energy for his presence. You then stumbled your way towards the kitchen, to get a glass of water for the both of you.

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.” He said simply, getting a small item out of said bag. You stopped right where you were, butterflies swarmed their way into your stomach as you thought about last night.

“Oh…” Your knees felt weak and your head felt light as you remembered the feeling of his callous hands against the soft skin on your back. “I was trying to forget about yesterday.” You sighed, continuing to walk again.

“I don’t think you can, dearheart.” He throws a box at you and you catch it from where you were standing in the kitchen. You looked at it to see it was a Plan-B pill made from your company: Umbrella. You chucked at yourself. How could you forget the Plan-B pill? 

“Ah. Thank you. I don’t want any little Weskers running around me either.” You humoured him, quickly opening up the packaging, taking it out and pouring two cups of water. 

“Insulting my seed?” Wesker questioned you, raising an eyebrow at your statement. You couldn’t tell if he was seriously offended or if he was just playing around. The rational side of you was hoping if he was just joking while the other was hoping that he was offended. You didn’t know why, though . 

“Just being honest, doctor.”  You swallowed the pill then drank your glass of water before taking the other glass and placing it in front of your boss, sitting next to him. After you sat down, there was an uncomfortable, awkward moment of silence between the two of you; you just sat there with your lips pursed, your eyes constantly looking at Albert then away, twiddling your thumbs, and just wondering when he was going to say something, while he just sat there looking down to the carpet below you two, blinking every now and then. 

“I was out of character-”

“You didn’t have to help me-”

You guys both said your statements in unison, then it was silent once again. Now, that was even more awkward. 

“But, just out of curiosity…” You were the one to start the conversation, again. Your next question was going to make you cringe but you just had to ask, “Were you in control or… that was just the pill controlling you?” At your question, Wesker gave you a stern look, it seemed as if he was genuinely trying to find the answer to your inquiry.  

“I was in control. I had my conscience, but I grew impatient.” He spoke, looking down again, calmly. He showed no signs of regret or embarrassment, just a little conflicted. It was all over his face; he was at cross swords with his actions, but, from what you were seeing and experiencing, he enjoyed himself. He had fun watching you squirm under his touch, being so submissive you couldn't even resist, and screaming due him fucking you mercilessly.

“Hmm… Interesting.” You mumbled under your breath, sceptical at his reasoning. 

“You seem unwell.” Was he mocking you? 

“Well, yeah. Thanks to you and your impatience, my stomach hurts.” You let out another scoff, huffing a short sigh. 

“My apologies, dear.” At the nickname, you turned your head towards him, giving him a side eye. Even after yesterday, the pet names still didn't fit right with you. You knew why: it was because you couldn't tell if he was being serious, or if it was just the effect of the pill controlling his words. He did say that he was in control and that it basically made him uncontrollably horny, it's just that you didn't believe him, or you didn't know what to believe. 

“What’s up with the pet names?” You asked with an annoyed tone, not knowing if the side effects were still messing with him.

“The pet names don’t cause your heart to flutter?” Albert's eyes squinted at you, a mischievous glint pouring into them. In return, you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. There was just no way this man genuinely had feelings for you.

“Did you expect me to have feelings for you or something? That's not how love works, Albert .” You retorted, keeping the same expression on your face. 

“It's quite common that women do try and make advances on me. I would've thought you had interest in me by the way you love to pester me around the laboratory.” You practically rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Jeez Louise, just how much ego could a man have? Then again, he wasn’t wrong; you saw how your female peers would always talk about Wesker and how hot he was, how intelligent he was, how cunning he was, and how they would let him ruin their life. Although you agreed to your peers’ statement, you weren’t going to boost his ego even further just because you had a crush on him. It was probably working too judging by the way he was trying to get you to falter so hard. 

“I don't know how you expect me to have any interest in you when you treat me like shit.” You spoke out bluntly, with the fake taste of annoyance in your mouth. “Are you still experiencing any side effects?” You then asked, trying to see what was in the grocery bag from your position on the sofa.

“Well, after I poured my seed into you, I wasn't hormonal anymore.” He told you as if he didn’t just say the most explicit statement to you. You physically cringed, looking away from him and staring into the abyss. ‘I can’t believe I let Wesker out of all the people cum inside of me… Even this whole conversation we were having is beyond my comprehension… And why is he acting like he likes me? This man treats me like absolute crap! anytime I'm on the clock!’ 

Well, at least you got some data out of the experiment that would be helpful for you when it came to revisions of the pill and its prototype regarding the ingredients and substances you used. What you got so far was that it wears off after a man reaches his orgasm, and that it causes extreme drowsiness when first taken, then the man is off the shits. Interesting.  

“Did you have any other side effects?” You spoke again, still not looking at him. Meanwhile, you felt him staring at you once again, it sent shivers down your spine due to the intensity of it. The stare he gave you wasn’t exactly a rude or strange one, but it was one of curiosity; the way his winter-blue eyes squinted with his blond eyebrows furred gave it away. 

“No.” And, that there were no lingering side effects once the pill stops working completely. 

“That information will be helpful once I fill out my lab report.” You squint your eyebrows, confused on why he was staring at you. “Yo, why are you staring at me so hard?” You moved away from him on the sofa.

“You want to know what I’ve just realised?” He leaned in closer, causing you to lean back again. The proximity between you two right now was wicked.

“And what would that be?”

“That I never kissed you before.”

“Please don’t think about that right now. My teeth aren’t even brushed.”

He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “I don’t care about that.” Before you could protest further, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle yet electrifying kiss.

Your heart raced, a mix of shock and desire flooding your senses. You knew you should push him away, remind him of the professional boundaries, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his kiss made it impossible to resist.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze searched yours, as if seeking an answer to an unspoken question. You were breathless, your mind a whirlwind of emotions.

“This changes everything,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to say more.

“It doesn’t have to,” he replied softly. “Unless you want it to.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, the same vulnerability you felt. Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment to let your guard down. “Maybe it should,” you said, surprising yourself with the admission.

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “Then let’s see where this goes.”

And in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

[n0tamused]

Hello

Would you feel comfortable writing about periods?

If so I wanted to request Jiyan and Mortefi comforting reader during one

Thank you in advance ^^

A/N: Thank you for the request! I went with writing hcs for this, since those are easier to get done. So I do hope you like them anon :)

Jiyan:

-He is not around too much to really be in tune with your cycles but he is no stranger to them. He was raised by his mother who was a medic and not really the person to evade the subject simply because he was a boy

-When he is around and not fighting Tacet Discords or some other beast out there, he will be tending to you. Be it by spending time with you, holding you as you sleep or holding hands as you browse the market down the street - he needs to make up for all the lost time while he was away

-For this specific scenario, Jiyan wouldn’t need much verbal confirmation from you that you’re on your period. He sees the way you hold one hand over your belly and sees the even more obvious - blood stains on the sheets.

-You won’t find any judgment from him, he doesn’t think twice before he’s already looking for new sheets to change the bed while you’re in the bathroom. This man has seen far worse things to even be made to raise a brow at a little bit of blood on the blankets. 

-Doesn’t make any fuss about it and asks whether you’d like him to prepare you anything to help with cramps or if you’d like a massage. And he is quick to tell you to lay down on the bed or sit at the dining table if you choose one or the other. Jue knows he’s tired as hell so when he sees you dozing off after taking medicine or getting your muscles worked out by his calloused big hands, he’s right there with you

-If you’d allow him, he’d spoon you and keep one hand on your abdomen. Sometimes he does it unconsciously too while cuddling, and the warmth of his hand definitely brings comfort and some ease from the aching pain there

-If you happen to be low on any hygiene products he can get them for you - although he will ask a lot about your preferred brands. If they don’t have X product, will Z product work for you? Or maybe a Y product? etc..

-Should you be feeling really emotional due to the wonders of a period, Jiyan is quite cautious to not upset you, and may lack in words a bit, offering you more silence if he sees that’s what would work for you. If you need reassurance he is there to give it to you too, he does strive for a good balance of everything, but he does prefer to communicate everything clearly. Tell him what you need, what you want him to do, and he is at it. 

-It’s all domestic fluff with this man, he’s really chill and only worries if you’re in huge amounts of pain or if you refuse his help.

-You’re in safe hands if Jiyan is there to help you.

Mortefi:

-May come off as a person that would be disgusted by periods or anything that makes a mess, but he is not.

-Although he does fret or fuss a little over any bloodied sheets or a spot on the couch, he is quick to reassure you it’s not your fault - In a nutshell, it comes off like he’s angry at your uterus or pads for letting it all out rather than you. You can’t help it

-He cleans it all up on his own, no one else can do it as perfectly as he needs it all to be

-Doesn’t mind if you stay in bed for longer, and he makes it a point to check up on you throughout the day, even if it happens to be a work day for him, he will make time to walk back home or at least send you a text or give you a call just to make sure you’re doing well

-Doesn’t let you eat much, or any, fast processed food. Instead you get to indulge into even more of his own cooking!

-Besides his favorites - deserts of all sorts - he is not half bad at making good, healthy dishes that hold an abundance of all things good for you

-It’s like having your own personal chef, and he surely does not disappoint. If you happen to be craving something specific and there’s not a food out there that encapsulates that taste, he figures out a new dish just for you

-He would love it if you were at the dining table while he was making all these foods because he loves to talk to you and hear you talk to him, it gives him time to remind you in his own way that he cares

-It feels like he mothers you at times, but he is sweet for it. Sometimes you may catch his ears being dusted with red blush if he says something more straightforward about these feelings.

-Mortefi would also make sure to bring home quality hygiene products. He’d rather not risk your skin getting irritated, he wants you to be comfortable. He gets you heat bottles too, sometimes he uses them too if he has a stomach ache or a particularly bad headache.

-Not big on cuddles but will indulge you all the way. You just need to slide up to his side and draw his arm over your shoulders and he’s pulling you further in. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[saintsenara]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I absolutely love your metas! You’re not only clearly a very talented writer but also blessed with such great insight into these characters that my dopamine levels always jump to absolute heights with every new post. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and being a real gem in this fandom ❤️

Also, because I couldn’t find any post (or did I miss it?) about specifically Harry/Snape (without a third person added to the mix) I would love to read your thoughts on it. Either romantically or gen, after the war, where Snape lives. Thank you so much for indulging me :)

thank you very much for the [exceptionally lovely] ask, anon!

snarry is definitely a popular request...

... so let's get into it!

[and let's also get out of the way that i do not back snamione as a pairing. you can find out why here.]

while they're by no means my otp - and while i'll admit to preferring both snape and harry paired up with lord voldemort - i have long dabbled in a bit of snarry, particularly because it's a ship which attracts astonishingly talented writers. and - in particular - astonishingly talented writers who think really subtly, intelligently, and creatively about life and love and all the questions therein. i'm always really struck by the nuance with which both snape and harry are treated in so many snarry fics, and i much prefer that to the more one-note treatment each character gets elsewhere in the fandom.

and - of course - why snarry works so well as a ship is because it has such a solid justification in both harry and snape's canon characterisation - and because this compatibility is made all the more interesting by the layer of conflict caused by snape and harry's mutually antagonistic relationship. harry adores the half-blood prince - looks up to him so much, in fact, that he genuinely wonders if the man was his father - because they're intellectually compatible, have similar senses of humour, have similarly self-serving aspects to their moral codes, and have a shared reactivity and emotional volatility. the text emphasises this frequently, most explicitly when hermione tells harry in half-blood prince that he doth protest too much:

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn’t notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn’t he use another guinea pig for a change? What’s Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff - " "Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

harry is also willing to acknowledge these similarities himself, sometimes. he empathises with - and even, occasionally, respects - snape well before the conclusion of deathly hallows, and - crucially - does this on his own terms. him refusing to dismiss his disgust at his father's treatment of snape in snape's worst memory in order not to make sirius or lupin feel awkward is incredibly impressive - and is something i don't think he gets enough credit for.

and since one of the things which makes me a member of both tomarrymort and snapemort nation is harry's instinctive understanding of how voldemort's childhood affected him and voldemort's understanding of how snape's childhood affected him, this is something i think provides a fascinating seam for authors to mine when writing about snape and harry together.

similarly, post-war, i think snarry is one of the best pairings for exploring how both harry and snape come to terms with the realisation that - no matter how well it all worked out in the end - they were both pawns in a larger game. i think that snape is, really, the only person in harry's life who could ever come close to appreciating what it means to have dumbledore send you out to [nearly] die - and i also think, because the man is always at the forefront of my mind, that snape is one of the few people in harry's life who can appreciate the fact that harry, as much as he also hated and feared him, was impressed by, sympathised with, and wanted to help voldemort.

snarry is also an incredibly compelling ship for thinking about power, and how both harry and snape understand it. i wouldn't care about the age difference, or the fact that snape and harry's acquaintance is established while harry is a child and snape is his teacher, even if the dynamic between them could only ever be heavily unbalanced in snape's favour, because these are fictional people. but i'm often struck by how interestingly snarry writers deal with snape being someone who views himself, inherently, as a supplicant - and who therefore ends up offering harry the upper hand in their dynamic [whether this is platonic or otherwise] despite the fact that he is the younger partner. snape's capacity for destructive devotion and self-subordination is one of his most fascinating canon characteristics - and snarry is one of the best vehicles for exploring this.

indeed, the canonical snape clearly regards harry as someone who possesses power over him. his complaints about harry being rich, spoiled, and arrogant make clear that he considers harry to be the second coming of the dynamic he had with james [with it never seeming to occur to him that this is an absurd thing for an adult teacher to think about their pupil], while his complaints about harry's fame are because he views harry as an inherent insider [someone with a pureblood surname and the money to prove it] to the wizarding world while he himself is an outcast. this can cause some exquisite toxicity - especially when snape, who tends to view every interaction he has though a win-lose lens and who becomes incredibly nasty in both victory and defeat, is proven right, having insisted to harry that the wizarding world won't like its golden hero getting railed by a tenuously-acquitted death eater.

but it can also result in something surprisingly beautiful. harry likes to save people, after all, and snape would - deep down - very much to be saved.

and one way he can do this is by offering snape the forgiveness for his role in lily's death which it's clear the canonical snape refuses to accept he might be entitled to. and, in doing this, the pairing draws out a theme which i am obsessed with - that there is a lost generation, whose ghosts haunt the characters alive in the canon timeline. no matter how negative his opinion on james and sirius and so on is, by virtue of knowing them, snape provides harry with a connection to a world he would be a stranger to otherwise, while harry provides snape with a mooring in the present which makes dealing with the weight of the past - and processing the fact that he's virtually the only person he knew as a teenager who's still alive - easier.

i also think that fucking your enemy's nephew is iconic, and snape and petunia meeting again in a scenario in which he's harry's boyfriend is a concept that sustains me.

[crguang]

HI HELLO SHALOM INTERRO ??? THOUGHTS ??? HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT CHIEF BEING THE PERSON TO BREAK THE PARADEISOS LOBOTOMY

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANEEEEEEEEEEE. UNBELIEVABLE. WHAT????????! they are intrinsically linked together. at once by the shackles, paradeisos, loss of self, mutual liberation and their inevitable end perceived by others. they’re literally the same. shalom pre-lobotomy is chief pre-awakening; refusing to be controlled, full of vitality, hatred and defiance (as defined by having freedom). i have so many thoughts in my head and it’s hard to concretize them all but the language shalom used to talk about how chief opened the door for doubt in her mind stroke me, it’s so violent. “rift” “corrupting” “shattering” “beast/monster” “tore me apart”… it really conveyed how shocking of a transition it must have been for her to suddenly feel those “unnecessary emotions” that had been taken from her for 8 years. even more, it must be so surreal to understand that you’ve been dissected in two, dehumanized and objectified while simultaneously being able to gaze upon that part of yourself that cries in indignation. if she was truly emotionless it wouldn’t mean a thing, but she’s not… she’s so incredibly self-aware. i think this is what makes it so sad for me, knowing you have an expiration date based on your usefulness because you were “made” for one purpose while being able to feel pleasure and have desires, etc— to understand the weight of what has been snatched from you by people who think themselves righteous when they’re really just a bunch of fear-stricken cowards would have anybody go crazy. seeing what paradeisos did to her made me so sick. the apathy with which they treat every threat to themselves is shocking but straight up mocking her will to live for herself by calling the monster they’ve made using (a part of) her Rebel made my stomach churn like that is so disgusting… shalom is aware of the severity of what paradeisos did to her and it’s sick that she has to risk everything just for less than a 1% chance of success that doesn’t even include her survival mind you. im just SICKK

to think she was so full of life and fighting spirit and is now reduced to “resigned” looks and smiles, compared to an instrument and a doll— oh my god sev it made me so uncomfortable. i know that during the loyalty test in the consciousness observatory or whatever, she was essentially embodying paradeisos but reading her being described as “doll-like” “void” and such was so tough… for chief to get that impression of her being an empty shell, expression that shalom uses again in the end to describe herself, then for shalom wonder if she’s even human afterwards made me so sadddd 😭 i do like these two excerpts though because i feel like it describes the duality of her character well, the surface level at least. the fact that she is capable of being genuine and has mastered the art of “embodying paradeisos” so that they wouldn’t notice that flaw makes her impossible to figure her out without diving into her psyche. even chief couldn’t understand her fully, she wont be able to now that she’s forgotten her. she’s so wonderfully complex and her interrogation portrayed that concept super well.

ive talked about shalom and her smiles before but another thing that’s always struck me as odd was that she kinda laughed too much for an unfeeling robot. im not talking about her cute little chuckles either, yeah sometimes it’s only to add to her manipulation but at the end of flora unfurl, when all of her plans were coming to fruition and in the face of coquelic’s rage, she was laughing then still. her laughs and smiles are sometimes so inappropriate but her laughter especially stood out to me and i didnt really know why until this one scene… it takes more effort to fake a laugh than to fake a smile like she does all the time; from what i remember she wasn’t mocking coquelic or being unnecessarily cruel, but when she burst out laughing i was so confused exactly because it felt unnecessary and out of place, like what happened in that scene. laughter is often accompanied by emotion and during a time where rationality couldn’t explain the motive behind her action, schorl immediately scanned her for defects like that’s insane. the level of scrutiny she’s constantly under is impossibly oppressive— “try to rectify such purposeless physicalities”?! cant even laugh anymore because of woke. can’t voice her thoughts, can’t be fully genuine with the person who freed her from rationality, she literally cannot do shit omg. all of herself has to be available to paradeisos’ sterile gaze every second of every day… she’s used to that scrutiny but ughhh it’s not fair and it’s not how human beings are treated. shalom i will save you from this prison if it’s the last thing i do

despite it all, she has her small pleasures and it makes me want to scream and die. the way she “plays” with schorl by having it scan her meaninglessly, how she enjoys catching people off guard and observing their reactions, the way she’s always making fucking jokes?! so important to me. shes so unserious. shalom making jokes that fall flat because they’re in the middle of a heavy topic or issue is so important to me. “haha your garden’s better off with me than dead right? kidding, heh” and “why should i give a fuck about humanity?… just kidding! love these people” is so 😭😭😭 i genuinely find her hilarious because she doesn’t relieve any tension at all, she is NOT meant to be comedic relief 😭

back to her and chief tho…… is it not absolutely crazy how she was acting like they were once married with three kids before chief got amnesia. mind you they met ONCE before, officially. ONE TIME. and she was like “you made a lasting impression on me” “we’re friends” “i wanted to see you/my own subtle yearning to see you again” “we held hands like this once before… i still remember the touch” “being apart from you, i cant help but worry” SLOW DOWWWWWWN. MY GOODNESS. i know chief changed her life but shalom was so intense from the get go like she wants that cookie so effing bad. they used the words “tender” “intimate” and “gently” too often for me to believe they dont want each other like. and why was the hand holding written like a fanfiction— matter of fact, this whole thing was written like a fanfiction because why am i reading about the exposed skin of shalom’s collarbone, her pushing chief onto her bed then essentially climbing into it as well to whisper in her ear WHILE encouraging her to choke her?!?!?!?! what was even happening. lesbians make me sick. what a freak. i actually dont know how many times ive called shalom a freak while playing the first 2 interro phases

wish i could add all the screenshots from the choking scene but tumblr’s a BITCH. but this whole thing was insane. LIKE INSANE. this is gayer than 000 kissing chief. this is gayer than being a housewife for the assassin that kidnapped you. reconnecting with an old “friend” you cant remember yet feel an undeniable familiarity and connection towards and allowing yourself to be vulnerable and exposed in front of her regardless of ulterior motives… soulmates across space and time and circumstance idkkk, at the end of the day the one who can understand shalom the best if given a real chance is chief idc they’re mirror images of each other. shalom was so genuine in the interrogation room despite chief being suspicious of her like im sure of it now. the fact that they freed each other is forever ingrained in my heart, that is the most precious gift they could’ve given to each other even if it was done unconsciously from chief’s part. ALSO the fact that the one moment we hear the most emotion from shalom is when she’s at chief’s bedside telling her to come back? yeah. exactly.

let me stop yapping but there are many things that are escaping me that made me go “holy fuck”, i have a hundred screenshots and recordings just from her interro like it really blew my mind. shalom’s character is a bit clearer to me now and it really does put everything into perspective aaaaaa im aching to write for her properly this time

[queenmuzz]

Ballrooms and Bloodlines

A post Veilguard Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich story excerpt

“You’ve become quite the talk of Nevarra, Lady Ingellvar,” Lord Karppinen says as he smoothly guides her across the floor.  “It’s been quite a few years since we had one of our people reach such renowned status.” “Yes, it’s strange to be compared to Cassandra Pentaghast, even if it’s a high honour.”  She does not feel worthy enough to be associated with that woman that Varric liked to talk about, who wrote romance novels specifically for her enjoyment.

The name seems to irritate the young man, as he does his best to suppress a grimace.  “Pentaghast!” He says, the P sounding like he wants to spit out a wad of mucus.  She was the Right Hand of the Divine, Founder of the New Inquisition, and what does she do with that power?  Goes off and marries a Dwarf.  A DWARF!  Doesn’t even protest when the Inquisitor disbands her organization.  All that power… gone…. And she ruins her family name.” Insulting Lady Cassandra, a risky move. Zea thinks.  She already doesn’t like the man, but out of necessity, she pastes a smile on her face as they continue their dance.

“You, on the other hand, have single-handedly  accomplished so much more than her.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, I didn’t do it alone.  I had many friends and allies. I had one of the best Antivan Crows, a brave Grey Warden, (it’s still hard to keep her emotions in check whenever she thinks of Davrin), and of course the eminent Professor Emmrich Volkarin.”

That name brings out a face of  outright disgust.  “Volkarin…  a man who doesn’t know his station in life, deems himself as far too important to be bound by it.  Plays at being a noble, despite being nothing but a commoner.  In fact worse… a butcher’s son.”  It’s the way he says it, the way his voice drips with disdain, as if Emmrich’s father was vermin.  She frowns, and she catches Emmrich’s face from across the ballroom, seeing how concerned he looks.  He must know something is going on.  But she tries to remain diplomatic. “Honestly, I find that to be very noble, to take on such a lowly profession to support your family.  To suffer the social stigma, to bear it willingly for the ones you love, is there not honour in that?”  It is the truth.  She has never had the pleasure of meeting Rupert Volkarin in life, but she knows that he must have been a good man, someone his son emulates to this very day.

Lord Karppinen scoffs,  “You are very naive to think like that, Lady Ingellvar.” “I am not,” she argues back.  “Don’t forget, I am an orphan.  A foundling.  I claim no title nor lineage.  I am no better than that butcher you disparage.”  From the corner of her eye, she sees Emmrich now acting agitated, with Myrna placing a supportive hand on his arm.  The situation is getting out of control, and Emmrich may do something he will regret if he sees that she is being upset by this arrogant noble.

“You are much different.” He responds, his voice now returning back to its honeyed state.  An attempt to ingratiate himself to her.  “You are a founder, a once in an Age person who has the potential to start their own dynasty.  But…” his voice dips deeper, “In order for a dynasty to take root, it must also be grafted with other trees,  those with the pedigree of us nobility.   We are the ones who have fought dragons, after all.”  He’s trying to woo her, to bring her glory and accomplishments over to his household.  But he has no idea how much it has backfired on him. There it is…she sees it now, his weakness.  Nobles and their everlasting love for dragon hunting.  A butcher who carves up meat to feed starving bellies may be considered sacrilegious, but a noble’s taste for killing majestic creatures merely to decorate their halls with apparently is considered virtuous.

“Are you?” she asks sweetly, a true smile now creeping into her face.  “Tell me, Lord Karppinen, how many dragons have you killed?”  The man sputters… looks shocked that she would ask such a question, but she continues. “How many generations has it been since a Karppinen has slain a dragon?  Your father?  Your Grandsire?  Your Great Grandsire?” “This hardly matters…” he protests, but she has him with his back against the wall.

“Because Emmrich Volkarin has personally helped me hunt…” she makes an exaggerated act of calculation, “One… two… three… four… five?  Possibly more, since one of the archdemons had multiple heads… but he has taken down AT LEAST five dragons.  Who is the more noble now?”

He loses his sense of speech and she grins, as she is now the one to lead him across the ballroom floor.  Emmerich seems to have calmed down, reading the situation as not as dire as he thought, but there is a perplexed look on his face.

“Emmrich Volkarin has helped me personally dispatch not only those dragons, but also two ancient elvish gods.  He has broken into one of the most secure prisons ever created, and,” she thinks back to the conversation between Emmrich and Solas in Minrathous on that dark final day,  “he has earned the respect of the Dread Wolf himself.” At any other time, she might feel sorry for the man, the way he splutters, but today, she feels no mercy.  In fact, she feels like she ought to pay him back for his slander of her beloved.  She pulls him in for the kill, and whispers in his ear.

“Let me tell you a secret, my little ducal prince,  you might think you wish to claim me as your own, but I carry the child of the wisest man in all of Thedas in my womb.”