#and i can be strange and boring and it’s all understandable because we all live in the same place

[yanmuffins]

how are we feeling about a yandere! platonic! batfamily x neglected! vampire! reader with some heavy v*mpire t*e m*squer*de influece in honor of halloween season?? here's my cringefail concept that i might turn into a fic.

tw: neglect mention, non-con biting, non-con turning since reader isn't given a choice in being a vamp.

you're bruce's firstborn child who's lived in the manor for most of your life, with alfred being your primary caretaker and bruce not giving you much thought throughout your childhood - you're not fit to be robin (though he tried), you're not in the streets of gotham in danger or causing trouble - you're a well-behaved child who never gets in the way and never asks for too much. you understand when he breaks promises, when alfred shows up to special events in his stead because he's too busy with work, too busy being batman, too busy caring for troubled children who need his attention more than you do.

even as you see him make time for his other children, for his romantic affairs - even as the relationships you build with your siblings never goes beyond shallow small-talk and awkward silences, you understand. they have their own lives to worry about, their own issues, so many things they can bond over with each other but not with you. you're not a robin, you're not a vigilante, you're not athetically inclined and even as you do your best to be accomodating and warm, you can never get past their walls.

even when damian arrives and gets more familial bonding with bruce than you ever had, you lower your head and you walk away. you take his berating with a condescending smile and a disappointed sigh that makes him so irrationally angry, because he's a troubled child and he doesn't know any better.

you're ordinary, boring in comparison to them. you fade into the background with and without effort. you're just... easy to forget about. you don't require special care, or guidance, you don't go overboard trying to beat the living shit out of criminals like jason, you don't try to sneak out of the manor like damian. you don't disappoint. you don't impress. you're just... there. when bruce checks up on you, there's a signature smile you've perfected over the years you give him, telling him you're perfectly fine.

and you grow up. you grow distant. a bit of resentment, but you keep it locked deep within your heart. you are a student in gotham university, and you get intern for a big-shot from los angeles who just moved to gotham to expand their business. they shower you with praises and attention, taking you all sorts of places, introducing you to all sorts of people. because your father hid you from the public eye for most your life, the fact you're a wayne goes mostly unnoticed.

there's just one strange detail: it's a full-on night-shift. ironic, you concede, that you couldn't escape the nights of gotham by being a civilian. your family notices it, too: you don't dress like you used to, like you prefer to, there's a waver in your usually composed steps, bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep, an apparent mind-fog whenever someone asks you a question, a certain distance in your gaze. you sleep the days away, and the amount of times they've seen you entering and leaving less-than-ideal places (that one nightclub they have noticed suspicious activity on? just what are you doing there?) for a sheltered young adult to be during their patrols is starting to become concerning.

but you swear it's fine. it's all fine. you're fine. stop meddling.

and then there's the night - before any of the batsiblings start to really get a grip on what's going on with you, before bruce can give you a stern lecture on how you're exposing yourself to danger and how he's so disappointed and didn't expect this from you and force you to quit your job and just go back to how you were before - when that eccentric bigshot you're working for brings you to the VIP room at the nightclub, says you have potential, babbles on and on about how far you're gonna go, making you bubble inside with pride and happiness at finally being fawned over for a change.

and then they kill you.

draining you of all your blood, feeding you a bit of theirs before locking you up in a room where you'll be provided with proper refreshments to keep your hunger at bay until you've become a fully-embraced fledgling ready to learn the ins and outs of your new... unlife. you are a wayne, firstborn child of gotham's local billionaire, the camarilla's golden ticket to taking over gotham. they all expect much of you.

meanwhile, the text in alfred's phone says you'll be gone for a while. business trip to paris, your first ever, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity a rich girl with ample privilege and access to private jets couldn't possibly refuse. he doesn't believe it for a second, not even when you call to assure everything is just fine. he knows you're not, everyone knows you're not. there's a tracer in your phone and guess what, you're not in paris.

there is no comeuppance for your sire when the batfamily breaks you out of captivity, as they are long gone by the time the incident is ruled out as a bunch of goons targeting the wayne family for money (nevermind no ransom was ever requested). they'll come back for you, they swear, plans just got... delayed by this preposterous man wearing a bat-suit. until then, do as they taught you, keep yourself fed, don't break the masquerade.

but your newfound freedom lasts exactly a car ride to the wayne manor before you're prohibited from leaving the house for the foreseeable future. when the hunger comes, you can either tell them what happened or let yourself loose with a risk of hurting someone. when the sun shines through the windows and burns your skin, you won't be able to hide it anymore. the choice between your now overbearing family, still unsure how to help you, and the tutelage of your sire, being subjected to all the plans they have for you. the vampires are slowly crawling their way into gotham, and it's only a matter of time before batman becomes a problem.

you remember looking up at the bat signal shining in the dark skies of gotham city and feel a pang of relief in your chest, knowing it had nothing to do with you. now it just makes you feel anxious.

it's ironic, you concede, that you couldn't escape the nights of gotham by being a civilian.

[moonyasnow]

Sleeping Beauty's Tentative Prince.

PROMPT : They kiss you in your sleep

CHARACTERS : Ace, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CONTENT : fluff and angst, pre-relationship, they are PI-NING, the fae have…strange priorities. or maybe it's just Lilia in particular(Malleus' part), internalized racism (Sebek's part)

—

I do NOT condone doing this in real life to someone who hasn't consented. But this is fiction so fuck it we ball

While you were awake, he could not show the affection to you that he wished he could, caught up in his own fears it might not be reciprocated and could strain your current relationship.

But in sleep, you would never know. In sleep, he could more easily deliberate upon his fondness for you, as much confusion, anxiety, fear, hope and longing as they brought him.

Ace

Ace Trappola portrayed himself as a 'coaster extraordinaire', gliding only where turf is smooth, dancing through life without a care in the world for anything besides goofing off with his friends. Stuff like 'love' and 'romance' wasn't on his radar, deciding he'd rather steer clear of it after an experience dating in middle school that left him feeling so utterly...bored, not really there, as having to live up to some ideal decided by his partner. Was that what all those books and songs and movies was hyping up? He felt lied to! It wasn't fun, and he couldn't understand how his now ex-girlfriend, or anyone else for that matter, really thought of any of that stuff as desirable!

The 'ghost bride', Eliza, was really just a personification of everything that made him want to steer clear of it. After she finally decided to shuffle off this mortal coil for good, along with her equally ghost— to Idia's utter relief— husband, too tired from all that fighting to really feel like it was worth it, he decided he'd rather crash at Ramshackle than walk all the way back to Heartlsabyul.

You declared you'd make it a sleepover, which was why he was laying in a sleeping bag on the musty living room floor of the ancient, decrepit house, creaking and groaning from the wind and its own whims. You laid next to him, on a mattress(unfair of you not to bring a second, by the way), sound asleep. He was kinda envious of you in that moment, you know?

Despite how dead tired he was after not only all the battle stuff but cleaning up the cafeteria on top of it, sleep just wouldn't bless him with its embrace. And desptire how much he didn't want to, especially not after all the other first-years— including Deuce, the bastard— made fun of him for the thought he'd already put into it...he found the topic of 'love' spinning around his head again.

He sure as hell didn't want the kind that Eliza'd idealized it to be. The others claimed that he, out of all the other suitors, did at least seem to know what he wanted. "...someone you can laugh with, and cry with...someone who'll stick with you through all the hard times..." He felt flustered and like an idiot recalling he'd said that for the entire room to hear, even more so due to the fact they'd caught on he was actually being genuine.

Then for some inexplicable reason he got an urge to turn his head to look at you. You looked about as tired as he felt. By that meaning you looked terrible. Or so he'd say if you were asking him why he was staring. Why was he staring? Probably because he was concerned. Just a little bit. Crowley already threw enough shit your way on the regular anyway, now you have to deal with this, too. And he never understood why you still tried so hard.

You, while not even having magic, had still given it your all during those battles, throwing rocks and twigs and even a goddamn wall-mounted candlestick— or well, that used to be wall-mounted, though apparently not as well as anyone thought they were if you could just pull it off the wall— at the ghosts. It phased right through them, obviously, but it'd annoyed and distracted them enough to make his and the others' job a whole lot easier. It was long past time for him to take back everything he said about you the first day you met by the school's Main Street.

You really had become an all-in-one janitor, photographer, therapist, and law-enforcer in one in the time you'd been here. It really wasn't fair. But you'd once told him it was easier since you had him and the rest of the braincell squad around. And he had to admit, it was the same for him. When it came to you in particular. Sure, he liked Deuce, and maybe Grim too just a little bit, but having you there was...special. He's not sure how he would've dealt with the incident at that one absolutely horrible unbirthday party and his Housewarden's total freak-out if you weren't there...or if, before it, he'd have had to spend the night in Ramshackle all alone with just the ghosts for company.

His eyes widened. Wait... He started to feel warm from top to bottom. He didn't mean it like— you weren't— y-you were just buds! You know? Friends. Just friends. And then he wanted to strangle someone when he realized those words tasted bitter in his mouth. Getting up on his elbow and looking at your sleeping face he couldn't place every thought whirring through his head. He thought you were kinda pretty or whatever, sure, but it's not weird to think your friend is pretty! And maybe...

No. Try as he might, every new excuse he came up with for why that couldn't be the case was just that; an excuse. He liked you. As more than just a friend. Maybe he kept trying to deny it because of how different this felt to his middle-school girlfriend. He thought she was cute and all, but he felt so alone when he was with her. Like she was seeing some boyfriend-shaped cut-out in place of him. He never felt alone when he was with you. And he sure as hell would never take a whole day's worth of public transport to school on a break for anyone else.

But it's not like he was planning for this. It felt strange, the way you went from 'best friend' to 'best friend I wanna be with' in his mind. Because, those categories weren't supposed to intersect, were they? Or could they? It just felt weird.

…But when he got past his initial shock, he realized that, thinking of you that way felt…natural. It was strange. Strange that it wasn't something he had to psyche himself up for. Maybe he was more like Eliza than he initially realized, in that way. Not noticing that kind of love when it was right in front of him. Maybe he'd also gotten caught up in that idealization of love, never realizing before that love actually could be with someone like that…someone he cherished like a best friend.

Laying down again and turning his whole body to face you properly, he stared at you. You really were pretty. Not in that way where you see someone and can just tell whether they're pretty or not. Not in the attraction kinda way either. Well, there might have been a little bit of that too. But mostly, there was just something...special, about you.

About your face, and your eyes, hair, shoulders, nose, chin, neck, hands and just— everything. Just looking at you made him feel warm. It usually did. But especially in that moment. It was weird, how just thinking those things seemed to jump-start his heart like some old motor, because now it was racing in the night. He found himself leaning closer, until his breath fanned at your lips. Looking at you from such a close proximity was weird. Sure, he might wrap an arm around or lean it on your shoulder pretty often, and do things like flick your forehead or your nose to see you pouting at him, but you'd never really been this close before. The tips of your noses were touching.

He was planning on moving away. He really was. But then you shifted in your sleep and your lips brushed softly against his.

As quickly as he could, he almost leapt backwards and turned his back to you and hoped to the Seven you didn't realize. Not then, not the next morning— not ever.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, and calm his racing heartbeat.

Sadly for him, he laid awake all night thinking about it and didn't get a lick of sleep.

He kinda hoped he could do it again one day. With you awake this time, of course. Yeah...with you, it might not be so bad. The Underworld would freeze over before he ever told you that though. Well, that was hyperbole. He just wanted to make sure you wouldn't like…laugh at him for it, or something.

…Maybe accidents weren't so bad sometimes.

Jack

Having grown up knowing that his parents, his grandparents, and most likely their parents and grandparents too, were mated for life— that they found each other and that was it— Jack Howl had always been sure that's how it would go for him too. That when he found 'the one' everything would be easy, and make sense instantly. And when he started to feel a strange new pressure in his chest around you, a desire to protect you more than even his other friends, he was sure that this was it. Yet something happened which he hadn't considered.

The person he fell for wasn't another wolf beastperson, nor any other kind of beastperson or mer who mated for life. You were human. And humans very much did not mate for life, as much as some might claim they would like to. For the first time he started to feel a bit of doubt about his future life plan. He was sure you were 'the one' for him… But now he had to start to contest with the fact that, he might not be 'the one' in your eyes.

So, he thought…he would try to court you in some way. Make it clear he could be a good partner for you.

During the second night at Vargas' training camp, when Grim hadn't returned from going to get blankets with the others, you had become so worried that you tried to run off to go looking for him. And Jack felt like he had no choice but to go with you; he would never risk you running into the shadow while alone. It definitely wasn't the smartest decision, and he had tried to stop you. But you had argued against him, insisting you wouldn't just leave Grim behind, no matter how much danger it put you in. That was something he had always respected about you; you always looked out for those in you pack. And he agreed to go with; he'd do the same for you— and then some— if you went missing, after all. But an hour of walking later, and you both realized that…you were lost. Now, not only was Grim gone, but those who remained at camp would think you both were gone, too.

You two had been walking for hours searching for the way back to no avail, when you had given up, swaying on your feet, saying you couldn't take another step. His eyes shot up in surprise, having been too caught up in getting you both back to camp to consider you didn't have anywhere near his levels of stamina, his ears flattening against his head with both guilt and a bit of embarrassment— guilt at not having realized you couldn't keep up, and embarrassment at not remembering the way back well enough. More like shame, really. He felt sure camp was the safest place for both of you right now, yet in his haste to follow you to make sure nothing jumped out at you, he'd neglected to keep good enough track of the scents around you both to be able to lead the way back. That wasn't how a good partner was supposed to behave! He was supposed to be able to make sure you were safe.

You were the one to suggest, with the night being so cold, that you sleep close to one another. He balked at the suggestion once it left your mouth, trying to hide the furious blush he knew would overtake his face if he let it— letting you see him like that would be way too embarrassing to consider; he was supposed to be cool! So you'd know he could protect you! Not act like some lovesi— o-overly affectionate— puppy! But when you reasoned that it was to conserve heat, to make sure neither of you ever became cold enough for it to be truly dangerous, he had no argument against it, and so was forced to go along with it. He didn't want you to freeze, after all. And no, don't misunderstand him! His tail did NOT just start wagging! And if it did, i-it was just nerves! N-not at being close to you— the shadow! NOT TO SAY HE COULDN'T TAKE ON THE SHADOW IF IT APPEARED—

He had to force himself to keep quiet, lest he put his foot in his mouth again.

He'd assumed you would just be sleeping next to each other. So when you slotted yourself right in his arms, your head on his chest, he froze in place, begging for dear life that you weren't hearing the way his heart was now racing. No matter if you did or not, you soon fell asleep. But Jack, like a protective guard dog (a comparison he didn't like but couldn't exactly deny at this moment) stayed awake for a while longer to make sure the area was truly safe, leading to him becoming lost in his thoughts.

He was confused why you were here at all. You weren't even part of a sports club! Or any club at all, for that matter; running errands for Crowley ate up too much of your time for you to be able to join one. But you were still here. You had claimed it was better than spending that time in school figuring out a way for a magicless student to succeed in magic assignments, Grim not often being fond of cooperating if there was no tuna involved, much to your frequent frustration. But it still really didn't sit right with him that you got caught up in all this when you were only meant to be there to take pictures. He thought Crowley should definitely compensate you for this, since you got caught in danger due to him making you go along with them. But by now he'd wised up enough to realize that was never going to happen. The thought began to really get on his nerves.

It was insane, how Crowley treated you like some slave with no mind or will of your own. Even worse, a disposable one he kept throwing at problems— dangerous problems...he still wasn't over how close you'd come to being seriously injured in the fight at the Mostro Lounge— that should have been CROWLEY'S job to handle. He almost began to growl just thinking about it. The mere thought of you, his m— friend...his good...friend...being hurt in the slightest scared him. Enough that his arms unconsciously tightened around you. The scent of your hair, a reminder you were currently not in danger, put him at ease. He exhaled in silent relief.

…If…

After you both graduate, if he asked you to come with him back to his home in the Shaftlands, what would you say? He'd be able to keep you safe. Make sure you never had to live like this again. What with your status as not being from this world and thus having no legal identifying paperwork, getting a job would probably be hard for you. So he'd get a job and support both you and him. And Grim, of course— if Grim was your pack, he was Jack's, too. He was already sure his family would love you, and welcome you with open arms. And then one day down the line he'd—

He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought, face having grown far too red. But his tail wouldn't stop wagging. He might have thought of it before, but that was when you weren't literally sleeping in his arms. You being so close just...made everything feel too real.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind. What mattered right now was that he would keep you safe. Take care of you. Now…and hopefully, you'd allow him to do the same in the future.

But the fuzzy, excited feelings brought on by the thought he didn't finish didn't leave him, them and your scent lulling him further into a comfortable sleepiness. So close to sleep and overflowing with affection, he didn't even notice, let alone have the sense to stop himself, from placing a kiss to your forehead, snuggling up closer to you to make sure you kept warm, unconsciously smiling against the top of your head as he, too, was claimed by sleep.

It just felt so...right, to hold you.

…The next morning you were confused by why he refused to look you in the eye.

Malleus

Malleus Draconia, crown prince and heir to the fae Kingdom of Briar Valley, was used to spending his time alone. Used to having only his guards and mentor for company. Used to spending hours wandering through empty stone hallways and rigorously up-kept gardens where none but he, his beloved gargoyles, and the occasional critter dared wander.

Perhaps that was because of him.

Though he came to Night Raven College to 'broaden his horizons', after the first few months or so of classes in which he was left to work alone even on group projects, smelling the fear of his peers in the air, he had all but given up on finding an actual friend. Someone who would stay by his side not out of duty or necessity, but purely out of desire to.

The way you haphazardly seemed to stumble into his life and make a home for yourself in his hollow ruin of solitude had still not caught up with him, even months later.

It was late in the evening, the old decrepit clock in Ramshackle had just struck 12. You were on the couch, leaning against him, asleep on his shoulder as he read a book. Or at least, he had been trying to. For all of five minutes. The soft pressure of your body leaning against his arm had made him lose all focus for anything not related to you. So here he was, staring like a fool at your sleeping figure.

That you, so small and fragile compared to him, were not afraid of the dragon by your side— the horned beast with power enough to destroy most of the school with less than a snap of his fingers— never ceased to amaze him. Yet it was on nights like these, when you were too tired to go for your usual evening walk with him yet still wanted him near, that left him most awestruck. Not only did you say, with your own words, that you wished to be by his side despite your lack of energy…you trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Leaning against his shoulder, no less. It intoxicated his heart with pride, peace and longing in equal measure.

Yet, it only occurred to him the first time it happened that he had never seen another's sleeping face before. At least, not with their knowledge. He had seen you resting through your window on his late-night strolls before. Yet this was different. You allowed him this. If he did not already think you were the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever bore witness to, he did once he saw the gentle, peaceful expression on your face so close. He couldn't help but liken you to the sleeping princess in the old story of the Thorn Witch from his homeland. Sleeping so peacefully…all whilst leaning against a dragon.

His heart ached with feelings he had no words for as he stared at your face, streaked with moonlight, book long since forgotten. Cupping your cheek, he cursed the leather gloves keeping him from truly feeling your skin. In the back of his mind he harbored a fear he dare not put into words: that were he to feel your skin against his, it would be a point of no return, and he would never be able to go without it again. A curse to one such as him, who— his logic was much too aware for his liking— would be forced to grow accustomed to losing the touch of all things in time.

Yet his emotions, not bound by logic of any kind, wondered if you would like that. If him discarding his inhibitions and letting his gloveless hands roam every inch of your body would delight you the same way the mere thought did him. One part of him told him that 'yes, you would'; he was the fae prince, one of the most talented mages alive. He could keep you safe, give you anything you could ever desire. Yet another part of him said 'perhaps not' with barely any hesitation. He was a dragon, feared by man and fae alike for his power which could wipe out whole nations, should he desire to. The conflicting answers left him with a confusing sense of whiplash, not knowing which to trust. Yet, since you were not, unlike many, afraid of him, he found himself hoping your answer would fall more in line with the former…

Heart filled with trepidation and yearning in conflict with one another, he searched his mind for that always comforting anchor of knowledge that was Lilia's words. All that came to mind regarding the matter of kisses was that 'it was not to be done once the sun had set', which to him was good enough reason to force himself to abstain. Or at least, so he'd hoped. He wished to listen to his mentor's words, clung to them when his own young mind felt overcome with what he wished to do instead of what he ought to do…yet found he could not. At least, not fully.

Holding your warm hand in his which was cold beneath his gloves, the heat still slowly seeping from yours to his, yours appeared so small. As Malleus resisted the urge to rub his nose against yours, he felt his pulse beat in his throat. A metaphorical fire lit in the candle of his heart, flaring higher as he slowly neared your lips.

At the last second he managed to force himself to place his gloved hand gently over your mouth, placing a light, chaste kiss to the back of it.

He yearned to traverse further, to not have this self-imposed barrier in his way, to truly know if your lips were as soft as he imagined them to be, if they tasted as sweet. It was difficult to draw a line for himself. But, despite pouting through it, he still did. Once more recalling Lilia's words of wisdom: it would be impolite to steal your first kiss— or at least, so Malleus assumed it was— without your knowledge, after all.

After that he made up his mind to keep himself in check. That was enough for tonight, he thought and tried to return to his book. But his thoughts never stopped drifting to you.

It equally unsettled and enthralled him.

Sebek

The son of a human father and a fae mother— a fae mother who went entirely against the norms and expectations of her people and culture to marry a human man, a man whose people had hurt hers, and whose union with her had barely been accepted, much less understood— to say that Sebek Ziegvolt feels many conflicting emotions interacting with humans would be an understatement.

He, having seen the scorn his parents' union brought his mother, had vowed as a young child that he would 'never be stupid enough to choose to marry a human'. For he, at his young age, fully believed it was something he had control over. And he still did well into his teens, Lilia's explanation that love cared not for what people had decided, while he admired, revered and respected the older fae greatly, was still not quite enough to persuade him that there could ever be a possibility of him, Sebek Ziegvolt, proud knight of the Lord Malleus Draconia, deigning to fall for a mere human. He couldn’t understand the appeal in any way, shape or form. Human were weak. Fae— he— were strong.

What use had the strong for the weak?

But when you saw him freezing in the cold winter air, you wrapped your scarf around him. He, predictably, began to chastise you, claiming through a runny nose that as a human you were weaker than he and that he could handle this cold, and would not lose to mere weather— which was evidently not the case, as his own words were cut off by a big sneeze, to which you simply laughed. What nerve you had, he thought, for you, a mere human, to laugh at him, Sebek Ziegvolt. To laugh at his weakness! But his thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when you removed the hand covering your mouth and he saw your smile. It was...dazzling. A depiction of beauty which he had only heard described before.

In his daze he almost missed you taking a napkin out of your pocket and wiping away the mess under his nose, still smiling at him the same way.

Though he chided you, claiming to not need it, he was powerless to stop the stutter in his heart at your gesture. The tip of your finger grazed his jaw for a fraction of a second as you withdrew your hands, and it haunted his dreams for weeks. And the gentle smile on your face, showing, as far as he knew, nothing but sincere care for him, was enough to make him feel as though he didn't need the scarf at all.

It was...dizzying.

He saw his displays of weakness as just that: weakness, not vulnerability. In his eyes he must not have either to be able to be a good, no, even passable knight to his Young Master! Deep down he knew his Lord Malleus was already strong enough to not really need a knight. But he could never shake the worry it was on him, that he didn't need a knight because Sebek wasn't knightly enough. That was why he worked so hard. His position, with Lord Malleus, in life, had to mean something. Make him mean something.

But you never seemed to care for how he thought of it, showing him small gestures of kindness over and over again. In time he found he had begun to expect those small gestures, despite how he might still had insisted they were unnecessary. That you continued them despite his insistence...warmed him, just like when you lent him your scarf— which he always returned to you each day, knowing you would wrap it around him again the next.

At first he was sure you must have bewitched him, cast some manner of curse upon him— forgetting the fact that you, as magicless, would not be capable of such a feat— for he could find no other logical explanation for what the feeling of full-body lightness and heart-stuttering you brought upon him could be. At least...none he wanted to listen to; none that made sense to him.

You were human.

What he could never let himself be.

And he, the knight of Malleus Draconia, couldn't make the same strange choice as his mother, no matter how highly he respected her.

Yet whether he wished to or not, they'd taken hold of him, struck his heart like lightning, leaving a permanent mark of you on his very being.

It was shortly after that incident that he had, one evening, come to Ramshackle in search of Lord Malleus, and instead found you on one of the Dorm's benches, looking moments away from sleep. For a moment, thoughts of his search for his liege left his mind. When he asked what you were doing out alone this late at night, interrogating you like you'd broken some kind of curfew Ramshackle didn't have, you smiled and said you were waiting for Malleus to go on your usual evening stroll with him. Something about that gave him a sour feeling in his chest. For you or for Lord Malleus, he couldn't say.

Huffing, he said he might as well wait with you. You said nothing at that, just smiled and patted the spot next to you. Reluctantly, he did.

You sat in silence for a while, him trying to ignore the way so many feelings he couldn't figure out the meanings of stung at his chest. He was so caught up in his mind that it was only once he'd finally figured out something to say to you and took a deep breath that he realized his shoulder felt heavier, and he looked over to see you leaning against it, sound asleep. He was about to begin to scold you for falling asleep while waiting for his Young Master! It was bad enough his Lord Malleus had to endure the tardiness of Silver on acount of the latter's propensity for falling into slumber at any given moment! But when he looked at your face again, the words, for once, froze in his throat and fizzled away.

The way your mouth was left slightly agape, leaving a small trail of drool running down your chin, really should have appalled him, been seen as something pathetic, left him feeling distaste of some kind. But when you'd still smiled at him when he had snot running from his nose, how could he?

Maybe it was fine to…let you sleep. You didn't fall asleep like this often anyway…

As gently as he could, so as not to wake you, he lifted your body up and sat you in his lap, shifting and angling himself to allow your legs to still hang over the edge of the bench, now exchanged for his legs. He looked up at your sleeping expression in reverence, bringing his thumb to wipe away your drool. In his other hand he took yours, which had been hanging limply at your side. With his other arm around your waist to keep you from tipping over, he leaned his head, cheeks burning, against your shoulder, yours falling atop his as he did.

Closing his eyes, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

His heart fluttered with a novel tenderness...yet not one he found he minded. He would guard you as you slept. Care for you in your 'weakness', just as you had him in his.

To love a human might not be something he was yet capable of. But, if you would extend to him the same, not a half-fae, but him...

...he might be able to love you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First of all I just want to say: Thank you thank you thank you SO MUCH to everyone who engaged at all with my last (and first) writing post! > <

Knowing people like my writing was such a massive motivation-boost to me! I tend to struggle with perfectionism and feeling like my writing isn't good enough by my own standards, so all that stuff is very, very appreciated!

I also wanna say sorry if any of them seemed OOC— aside from Malleus, I don't feel as confident in writing these characters as I do for the characters in my first post, since I don't know them as well yet. A big thank you to @yuurei20 for their TWST character fact sheets (found here) for the help! And also to the people who contribute to the the English TWST wiki!

Lastly: A reminder if you didn't already know, that I do, in fact, take requests! Coming up with WHAT to write is usually the hardest part for me; when I get past that I have a blast! ^^

...Also I think doing the research for this has skyrocketed Sebek up my 'favorite TWST characters' list because damn. That's rough, buddy. And honestly same in a way. His part was definitely my favorite to write.

[katyarn]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS IGNORING YOU AFTER AN ARGUMENT

CHARACTERS: Tsukishima, Oikawa

SYNOPSIS: after a long day all you want to do is come home to your boyfriend, little did you know they've had a pretty shitty day and were ready to make it your problem

CONTENT WARNINGS: Angst!!, comfort, swearing, name calling (slut, bitch), reader feels insecure about their weight (Oikawa)

Author's note; Feel free to request anything you want I'm desperate to write anything. This is a college AU but feel free to consider it whatever you'd like I don't really care. Also gave a little sneak peak for my next post about Haikyuu College AU Major headcanons

TSUKISHIMA Has been acting a bit strange recently, well more than usual at least. You've been together since freshman year of high school, so it really should come to no surprise that he'd be changing, you're growing together after all.

However, ever since you entered your first year of college he's been distant and unbothered with you, every day after class he'd come home eat dinner and lock himself in an office for hours on end.

You could understand he was busy, after all being an anthropology major must be demanding but you couldn't help but feel left out, so you brought it up when you came home.

you carefully approached your lover's office knocking on the door, your hands were shaking against the hard wood. You were nervous to say the least but this has been going for way too long.

Tsukishima swung open the door with a bored look on his face, he was pissed but that wouldn't stop you.

"we need to talk" you said a slight shake in your voice, it was stern nonetheless but that wouldn't last long when you felt his piercing gaze, he looked even more pissed, like he was just waiting to start an argument with someone.

Well, that wouldn't even matter anymore because here you were, holding back tears as your lover was lashing out at you, calling you 'clingy' and 'bothersome'.

"do you even know how much of a bitch you've been?" he said approaching you slowly as he leaned down mockingly.

You were squeezing your fist looking at him in disbelief, this wasn't the Tsukishima you fell for. "really? your girlfriend wanting to spend more than fifteen minutes a week with you is being a bitch?"

He scoffs standing up straight before walking past you, shoving your shoulder in the process as he leaves the apartment with a loud slam of the door leaving you flinching alone in the middle of your apartment.

you really didn't know what was going on with him but you were determined to resolve it once he came back home,

well, that wasn't much of an option anymore because the moment Tsukishima came home you rushed over to him begging to resolve the argument however you were met with silence. it was clearly a game to him as well, 'see how long he can ignore you before you break.

You stood once again in disbelief for the third time this day as your lover walked right past you without uttering a word, you could almost feel your eye twitch.

You weren't going to let yourself get too beat up though, you had classes too after all and you wouldn't let yourself get distracted by a petty argument so you kept yourself busy, completing assignments, studying anything that could keep your mind off the argument. Plus, Tsukishima never stayed mad for long, he'll most likely have forgotten when you guys went to bed.

well that's you thought , although you went to bed Tsukishima was nowhere to be seen, you waited and waited until you lost your patience walking down the stairs to the living room where you were met with a sleeping Tsukishima on the couch, your heart was clenching, he's never done this.

You found your way back up to the bedroom filled with guilt, were you really in the wrong? all you really wanted was to spend time with him. Well maybe he would forget about it in the morning you thought as you drifted off to sleep.

In the morning you made your way to the kitchen thinking you'll make some breakfast and you'd eat with your boyfriend like you would each morning but once you set the table Tsukishima only looked at his plate with a raised 'brow giving you an unimpressed look before making his own breakfast.

Just how many times was he going to leave you in disbelief?? you stood there speechless as he left for class with his toast, he didn't even put in the effort of eating with you.

His ignorance wouldn't stop after coming home though, whatever you tried he wouldn't break.

You had enough, you stood in front of him as he sat on the couch, he groaned moving positions so he could see the TV "Just how long are you going to ignore me??" you snapped.

silence

You scoffed and walked away making your way to your room, maybe you needed some space, plus, you don't think you could handle anymore of this treatment. You stuffed a bag with clothes and essentials feeling yourself breaking down as you stumbled out of the room and past him.

"Goodbye, Tsukishima." is the only thing you muttered before slamming the door.

'what?' he thought as he registered what just happened before hastily jumping off the couch and swinging the door open,

you were gone.

this time it was him who stood alone in disbelief, he searched for you, asked your friends but you were nowhere to be seen.

He went home with a wave of guilt washing over him, he called you, texted you but no response.

He sat on the couch alone with his thoughts 'did he lose you?' 'it was really bound to happen with how he was' he though he looked over to the clock 6 AM. 'where were you??'

creak

his head snapped back 'did you come back??' And there you were, standing in the door giving him an unbothered look, he always has so why can't you?

He rushed over to you "where the fuck have you been?" you looked into his eyes meeting him with silence. He softened realizing what was happening before hugging you. You flinched to his touch, did Tsukishima just hug you?? not once in the 4 years of dating has he hugged you, he's held your hand, he's played with your hair, draped his arm around you shoulder but he's never hugged you.

" 'm so sorry baby." what.

you stood there in confusion awkwardly putting your arms around hi- I'm sorry are you hallucinating or did the words 'I'm sorry' just come out of his mouth..

"it's fine. Just, don't do it again." You say snapping out of it as you pulled away "and don't call me a bitch ever again. emphasizing every word with a hit on his chest.

"I won't baby, 'promise." he says with a groan clutching his chest as you smiled at him giving him a peck on his kiss bitten lips before walking away to the kitchen leaving him starring at you as if you'd vanish, you turn to look at him with a confused face "what are you waiting for, you owe me dinner."

OIKAWA Has always been pretty popular with the ladies, it really isn’t surprising at all considering how charismatic he was. You knew all of that even before you decided to go out with mister popular.

He was handsome, that was undeniable but you just couldn't stand his fan girls anymore, how they touched him, flirting shamelessly while you were RIGHT THERE. oh, but the worst part? Oikawa flirted back, that's where you drew the line, dragging him home to your apartment more frustrated than ever.

But once you started telling him it made you uncomfortable he had the audacity to call you what? 'selfish' and 'insecure'. started going on and on about how you were the same with men apparently, calling you a 'slut' and also- wait what?

...

you sat there dumfounded, what did he just call you?

"excuse me?" you whispered, voice cracking. he's never insulted you before, he just scoffed pushing past you to grab his keys and his volleyball before leaving your apartment.

You were enraged, he just called you a slut and walked out? you should be the one walking out you thought as you found your way to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

If it was anyone other than Oikawa you would have been out of there in an instant but he was the love of your life, plus, it was a first offense right? and you believed every argument can be resolved. You just couldn't lose him.

you sighed picking out a pack of chips from the cupboard before halting 'did he find you unattractive?' maybe he flirted back because he didn't love you anymore? all those girls looked so much better than you did, did you gain weight??

your mind was racing before hearing the door open, oikawa waked in giving you an empty look before cocking his brow at the sight of the chips

oh God

You find yourself putting the chips back before approaching him "Oikawa? what is up with you today?" you say voice laced with worry he rolls his eyes before plopping on the couch

did he just ignore you? you start shaking your head at him before you find your way to your shared room looking in the mirror, playing with the fat of your stomach and thighs feeling yourself unconsciously start breaking down.

He gets up from the couch leaving to the bathroom, passing your room, while his girlfriend was- uh..

what the fuck is she doing he thought confused before letting it go and continuing over to bathroom.

He was mad at you but he was still your boyfriend so as he did every night he made you both diner setting your plate on the table but you didn't come down, he waited before deciding he was just going to eat on his own you'd come down eventually he though but a couple hours passed and you still weren't there.

He gets off the couch making his way into your shared room, panic washing over him when he sees your pretty face soiled with tears on the floor, he rushes over to you "baby what's wrong??" he says petting your hair.

You hide your face shaking your head in embarrassment "why didn't you come down for dinner" you rub your eyes looking around the room to avoid eye contact with him, he turns your face towards him eyes boring into yours as he plants a kiss on your lips "I'm sorry for saying all those horrible things, baby. I was being an asshole, please forgive me"

you chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before finally speaking "do you find me unattractive? or- or well fat.." you asked uncertainty laced in your voice

he looked at you in shock flicking between your eyes looking for a sign you were joking "what? baby God no, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met- why would you even think that?"

you sighed "it's just that- you know all those fangirls are so much prettier and it just seems like you don't like me anymore"

he sighs pulling you into a hug "I'm so sorry for making you feel like this baby I promise I'll never do it again please just forgive me, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met"

You smile up at him tears prickling in your eyes as you let out a giggle giving him a peck on the lips. He smiles back at you throwing you over his shoulder "hey!! put me down" you giggle trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"No way, I'm spoon feeding you, you haven't eaten all day.

PS; if you ever feel insecure about your weight never resort to starvation, you're beautiful just the way you are as long as you're healthy.

https://anad.org/get-help/eating-disorders-helpline/

[anncanta]

‘The Rings of Power’ and what is adult cinema

I think I understand what the matter is. Why there is such a strange attitude towards The Rings of Power and constant reproaches from a number of viewers that the series is boring and that it lacks epicness and vivid characters.

This point of view (and it is the same point of view) has two reasons – age and an excess of content.

The thing is that modern viewers consume a huge amount of content. These are books, films, computer games, fan fiction, TV series. It is not that it is difficult to surprise such a viewer – it is actually possible to surprise them since they are quite naive – it is as if they have sensory fatigue. Or, rather, they have stopped perceiving shades and see only colors. And among the colors – only those that glow neon and fluoresce. What is below this threshold is not interesting to them, simply because their sensitivity is dulled, like (sorry for the comparison) for a user of psychoactive substances who needs to increase the dose to get the same sensations.

That's why the characters of The Rings of Power are dull for these viewers, the storylines are boring, and the whole story lacks epicness. And it doesn't matter that this story is not about epicness at all. It's about the price living beings pay for epicness. About what attempts to start a ‘great war’ or ‘correct big mistakes’ turn out to be. How good intentions and the desire to return to the ‘great past’ or start into a brilliant future end. What an attempt to cheat death leads to.

And here we come to the second reason. To adulthood. The series The Rings of Power is for adults. Not only because adult actors play in it. Young people play there too. But because it is written in an adult way, conceived in an adult way, and played in an adult way.

These heroes and this story do not have the problems of ‘who looked at whom in what way’, ‘who does not want to marry whom off to their beloved’, and ‘which armies clashed on this hill’. With all due respect to these problems. The Rings of Power is about something completely different.

In this film, one of the central scenes is the conversation between Galadriel and Elrond in Cirdan's workshop. The scene in which stubborn Elrond repeatedly brings Galadriel back to the question she doesn't really want to return to – has Sauron really left her consciousness? How did he get there? How far did he go?

And it's not about whether she's in love with Sauron or whether he has a chance to become her lover. I have the impression that the writers don't care about that at all. They care about Galadriel's relationship with Sauron inside. For them, evil is not a black blot that just wants to destroy the whole world (in this sense, the beginning of the second season and Sauron in his black form are also a parody of such decisions), but something that has crawled into your soul and become you. Where, at what point did it become you? How much has it become you? Can you resist it? These are very boring questions to answer – especially if you are uncomfortable with them.

The other pivotal scene is where Sauron tortures Celebrimbor. I know it's bland for viewers used to detailed violence and fan fiction. But it's monstrous. It's horrifying in its simplicity. You look at this beautiful creature who knows exactly where to shoot, so it hurts, but also so the victim stays alive. Then he comes over and moves one arrow slightly. You look at it and you want to scream.

And then Celebrimbor defeats him. Not because Celebrimbor is physically stronger, or a greater wizard, or has a deadlier sword. Because Celebrimbor speaks the truth. Because all these mind games are worthless when you look at them with clear eyes. So Celebrimbor looks. And makes Sauron look. That is stronger than any battle. As is the silence Sauron remains in, which he has tried so hard to drown out with the sounds of thunderous battle. That is why he weeps, and not because Celebrimbor has humiliated or insulted him.

The central part of the story is strange, imperfect, doubting Galadriel. After centuries of pain and loss, fear and anger, rage and grief, she believed that there was someone in this world who could understand her – and he turned out to be the Dark Lord. This makes their misunderstanding all the more vivid and profound – Sauron thinks that Galadriel rejected him because he did not offer her enough, but she did it because he offered too much. The noble Halbrand was enough – not the divinely handsome (another jab at fans of epic films with grandiose perfect men), but a man who was wrong and willing to admit his mistakes. By showing her that Halbrand was a deception, Sauron betrayed not her love, but her belief that there was a way back. Including for herself, who, no matter how absurd it may be, still cannot forgive herself for putting the helmets of her brothers and sisters in the mound.

This faith will be restored to her later by Adar – for a moment, for a few minutes, he returned to his former elven appearance and showed her that it is possible to forgive others and forgive herself. Having missed the opportunity to escape with the ring of power and accepted her help and their alliance.

All these plot lines, all these stories, all the events and heroes do not look bright and spectacular. Even the battles do not look spectacular. Do you know why?

Because battles are not spectacular. They are dirty, stinking, disgusting, and full of pain and blood. Eregion during the siege does not look like grandiose fortresses – it looks like bloody besieged cities. Like cities on which bombs fall. Like cities into which, like cockroaches, aliens crawl. This is what the truth looks like. Do not believe the artificial mouse running across the floor. Better check if the candle is burning out.

The problem and, in fact, the essence is that all these things are impossible to see and understand if you are a young person. In youth, all the stories are about love (with a capital letter), about war (heroic and brilliant), and about refined characters who proudly walk back and forth. They talk little because the young are not interested in conversations. They are interested in kissing and figuring out who is better.

But I am interested in something else. And many people like me are too. And I am incredibly happy that the authors made this film for us. It is not even about Tolkien – I repeat, I am rather indifferent to him. The point is how, through Tolkien and his legendarium, the authors talk about what is important to me. And they do it masterfully. And the most beautiful thing is that those who are young will definitely grow up and become adults.

And then maybe they will love this story too.

[austinsastrology8991]

Uranus and why your life is a ShiT ShoW > URANUS IN Yer HOUSe <

Uranus in the FIrst - You are the most unpredictable little fuck-head that everyone loves. They always change > there clothes, there direction in life > their hair colour. they thrive in change unless you try to change them, they are the ones changing and dont you dare change them, thats all they have left ;( Uranus in the Second. - Crazy self esteem issues. these people think they are the greatest then the worst person, also same applies to their income because they dont think they are worth much, until they invest into bitcoin and think they will be the next warren buffet. honestly the only thing stable about you is the perception of your value changing. But they love change, something to look forward to i guess Uranus in the Third your brain and communication skills are kinda fucky you know that dont you. you always know how to say something shocking, and extremely good at changing the subject of a conversation, like you dont have to say much, but what you do say just made everyone go huh what the fuck you say? its amusing tho we appreciate you Uranus in the F4urth - Emotionally avoidant, dependent, and attached personalities. They cant make their mind up on how they feel, so they experiemnt with every feeling to see if they vibe with that. mum was probably very unpredictable, and they wanna be like her. they just trying their best to forgive her <3 Uranus in the Fifth - Okay this one is the genius. This one people actually think your onto something when your showing off because you break free of every social convention, and archetype, but in the most perfect way. everyone believes your special, and you can change the vibe of a room like dat Uranus in the Sixth - what a fkn mess your life is. I had this one friend who would have 10 different drinks in his room and he would drink each one sparingly (they were all warm too). he had some serious health issues, and lets not get into his mental health okay. but yall have crazy lives and you make it that way Uranus in the Seventh - Im not a player i just fuck a lot. they choose their partners based off how interesting they are, if you can satiate their curiosity you got em. but if your boring or not worth figuring out yeah g-bye. also they just come off strange so everyone is extremely curious. they get projected on a lot but they dont mind its a good way to find out something interesting lol Uranus in the Eighth - Freaks who will do anything.... and im not just talking about sex, if they want something they'll find any way to get it. masters of attainment, even if its probably not healthy for them, they don't care if they want it they get it. then the object of their fixation changes as soon as they do get it. they are like obsessed with 'progress' but its hard to call it that sometimes Uranus in the Ninth - Clever minds who are always skipping segments of a speech, or a video to find the juicy parts. They have very quick minds that are so easily bored, but if you talk to them, they'll never not have something interesting to talk about. also when change does occur its a LOt Uranus in the Tenth - why are yalll like this. just baffling people like they know how to make an entrance and when everyone starts loooking at them, they decide to make fun of everyone by doing something a lil bit too shocking, almosst making fun of you for looking at them. gets off on shocking ya Uranus in the Eleventh - They wanna change the world, but not in a way that is practical. until it is. They have a million friends because they have a knack for understanding people, but when you ask what they want or what scares them. it just makes you rethink why your even friends with them in the first place. 12 - your crazy. and its endearing but everyone is this close to calling the cops on you or locking you up in a psyche ward. maybe tone down your retardation. we all got something going on but you take it to a whole new level.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

The deleted scene just absolutely breaks my heart???

“When I left home, I thought ‘I can go… anywhere… New York. There. That’s the place. I will be accepted in that city.’ Grew up in a really small town, so… well my dad was, er… he had an idea of the sons that he wanted and… I wasn’t like that. Here, here people didn’t really mind that part of me. It was different here… I was so lonely… then one day I woke up, and I just realised that just… I don’t have a home, like, anywhere. Really tired of feeling alone, just bored of feeling alone. So I thought it would be easier… not to live anywhere.”

“My dad (…) he had an idea of the sons he wanted and… I wasn’t like that” — this just breaks my heart; he clearly wanted to be loved by his father but he feels like he wasn’t, like he’s a disappointment to his dad. The fact that he thought it would be easier if he just didn’t live because he didn’t fit in anywhere - the loneliness was that soul crushing and awful - is just painful to think about.

Interestingly, the above dad line along with “grew up in a really small town” and “people didn’t really mind that part of me” sort of have a queer subtext that could be read into? Maybe he’s just talking about a part of his personality that his father didn’t like, maybe it’s a reference to the idea that men should be “macho” and not show their feelings while Eric clearly suffers panic attacks/anxiety badly, but it definitely reminded me of a gay person talking about their upbringing, their father being disappointed, etc. Maybe I’m just reading too much into it though 🤷🏻‍♀️

I understand in a way why this scene was cut - given they’re out in the open and the Death Angels can hear a pin drop from miles away, them having this conversation outdoors seems a little strange. But I also think that it could have been moved to the scene where they’re inside Sam’s apartment or something while it’s pouring with rain/thunder and lightning, or maybe even in the church if they were whispering? I think Eric’s backstory definitely needed to be incorporated somehow though.

It just gives such an emotional insight into Eric’s character; in the finished film, all we really know about him is that his parents are in Kent, he’s a lawyer (maybe?), he has a hidden talent for little magic tricks, is a good person and that he has panic attacks (it’s not clear if this is brought on by the Death Angels invading/being stuck in the subway or if he always had these). There’s nothing about his backstory really, and it feels a little jarring as we learn a lot about Sam in the film.

[gothamite-rambler]

The only one Ivy doesn't hate in the bat-team minus Harley of course

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were in a botany sanctuary as Ivy worked on her latest plan to protect her plant family even if it meant death to humans, minus her girlfriend Harley. Ivy was planning to use the plants for something nefarious that she hadn’t disclosed to her girlfriend yet, but Harley didn’t mind helping her one bit.

Harley (curious): So, we just spray this stuff you made on all of them?

Ivy sprayed her favorite flower with an extra spritz of her strange fertilizer, growth serum while nodding.

Ivy: Mm-hm, that’s all I need you for, babe. After that, I’ll just say I worked alone.

Harley (simpering): You’d really do that for me?

Ivy (with no hesitation): You’re my girlfriend. Of course, I’d take the fall for you.

Harley grinned, her heart swelling with delight. That smile, however, quickly turned to tension as she pointed behind Ivy. Ivy sighed, already guessing who had shown up.

Ivy (not turning around): Hey, Batman.

Batman (disappointed): You were expecting me, and yet you’re still doing this? Why?

Ivy: I’m clinically insane and on a mission to protect Mother Gaia! Sorry I care about the planet!

Batman (angry father voice): We’ve been over this!

Ivy (turning around): Do not talk to me like I am a child! Also, hey, Nightwing!

Nightwing, standing behind Batman, smiled brightly, clearly pleased that Ivy noticed him.

Nightwing (waving): Hi, Pam!

Batman (surprised): What? Pam?!

Ivy: That’s my name, but only friends can call me that.

Batman (taken aback): Friends?!

Harley: Aww, that’s sweet.

Nightwing (agreeing with Ivy): Yeah, we're frenemies.

Ivy (smirking): Exactly. We have different ideas of being a hero and protecting the planet, but he deserves kindness. Plus, look at that handsome face! Definitely not the face of a douche canoe who stole my best friend and made her a boring good guy. I still think she’s lying about your relationship. You have minute man energy if anything.

Nightwing (raising an eyebrow): Damn, she really doesn't like you.

Batman growled angrily but he quickly refocused on the mission at hand.

Ivy (crossing her arms): Hey, Nightwing, if you’re fighting with him to defeat me, you’re free to go—but I understand if you have to do his bidding.

Nightwing sheepishly avoided eye contact from his father, who was glaring daggers at him.

Nightwing: He… he probably wants me to stay and fight.

Batman sighed in exasperation, frustrated with how well Ivy and Nightwing got along. Nightwing chuckled nervously.

Nightwing: I’m not helping her commit crimes! I just agree with a few points in her mission statement, and if there's a way to help her legally, I will help. She even gave me a pamphlet.

Batman (covering his face): Every day… I feel like I’m living in an endless nightmare with you two!

Ivy (snidely): Batman, flattery will get you nowhere.

Batman (to Ivy): How come he gets to call you Pam?

Ivy (shouting): I like him! He’s a good kid!

Nightwing beamed, clearly flattered.

Nightwing: Aww, thank you.

Batman: Oh Lord, Nightwing, sit this one out. You don’t want to get hurt by your “friend” who is evil!

Nightwing: All right! Call me if you need me to jump in or talk to Pam.

Batman (irritated): Stop calling her Pam!

Nightwing (mockingly): Nope, it bothers you, so I'm gonna keep doing it.

Nightwing walked over to where Harley was standing, who waved hello to him with her usual unintentionally terrifying grin. He sidestepped a few feet away, making Harley pout.

Ivy: Good kid. Batman, don’t be pissy, that I’m on decent terms with him. He gets me. And no, I didn’t hit him with my pollen or anything. He’s smart, and I respect him. He gets my mission like Harley does… He’s neat. He’s a neat man.

Nightwing smiled happily at the compliment.

Batman: All right, that’s what I call him! Don’t use that on him!

Ivy chuckled, clapping sarcastically.

Ivy: Aww, did I hurt the Man of Steel's feelings because his sidekick is nice? Guess you can't keep your temper in check!

Batman: That’s Superman! I just… I need a freakin’ minute!

Batman walked away, shaking his head and muttering questions about Nightwing being so close with a villain. The sanctuary suddenly felt a lot more chaotic than ever before.

Nightwing: Oddly enough, you're not the only crook who I'm frenemies with.

Ivy (shrugging): I believe you. A couple of Arkham inmates say they like you.

Harley stepped closer to Nightwing, nodding with a surprisingly normal smile for her.

Nightwing: That's nice! I'm glad that I don’t have Batman energy all the time.

Batman (calling back): Don't say that like it's an insult!

Ivy: It kind of is. You can be a headache ninety-nine percent of the time.

Harley: That one percent means she doesn't completely hate you. That's reserved for the Joker.

Nightwing covered his mouth, chuckling, while Batman kept his distance, counting to ten silently in his head to let go of the fact that Ivy saw him as less grating than the Joker.

Batman: I'm going to accept that as a compliment and focus on the mission.

Ivy: Okay, douche canoe.

Batman (whispering to himself): Not going to let her get to me.

[lastoneout]

Is it really that strange that a disabled person would be willing to put up with some level of pain if it means getting to do something that they enjoy and makes their life worth living? I'm making that choice every goddamn day, multiple times a day even!! If I stopped doing everything that causes me pain I'd never do anything at all. Being healthy—whatever that means—is not my goal, living a life that I deem worth living is my goal, it's okay if there's some pain from time to time, life is pain, and it's worth it!

Of course I would LOVE to live a painless life, but if the condition is that said painless life is dull and boring then I don't want it! All I ask is to minimize the pain as best we can while still allowing me to be myself. To be happy. To have hobbies. To go hang out with my friends and family. Stream and write and make art.

What's so confusing about that?? Do doctors really think disabled people should just...not ever do anything that isn't in the interest of mimicking an abled life as close as possible?? Because that's so BLEAK. We don't just deserve to live, we deserve to be happy goddamnit. I won't compromise on this, I want my life to be MY LIFE. And that means sometimes I'm going to take a lower dose of a medication that could maybe help with my pain more if it was higher because it being higher destroys my ability to feel joy.

Shouldn't be that hard to understand.

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (10) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coryo haunts your every moment.

word count: 1,737

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter rip, reader is conflicted, pet names (petal), not proofread

“Get out of bed!” your mother said, grabbing at your blankets and trying to pull them off of you. 

“I shall not!” you protested, holding onto the blankets with all your might. She tugged harder on them, but you wrapped yourself around the edge she wasn’t holding so that you could become further cocooned. Your mother let out a frustrated shout before finally releasing her hold. 

“And why not?”

“I…am ill.”

“The King is expecting you at the ball.”

“The King can kiss my ass,” you mutter. 

Your mother shouted your name so loud that you were sure the Cardews, who lived on the other side of the square, could hear her. She made another grab for the blankets, yanking so hard that you were pulled out of bed with them. 

“I refuse to go,” you snapped, throwing the blankets off of yourself and attempting to crawl back into bed. Your mother grabbed at your ankle, stopping you from getting much further from the foot of the bed. “Tell the King I am sick or that my courses have came and I’m in terrible pain.”

“I will not tell your betrothed about your womanly issues,” your mother hissed. “Why must you be so difficult? Weren’t you getting along so well with the King before?”

Oh, you were getting along with him, if only because you were playing the role of a dutiful bride. You called him Coryo, you accept his kisses and kissed him in return, you let him hold you. When you found yourself bored out of your mind at home, you would traipse over to the palace. You would pretend it was an effort to stay close to Coryo, but truly you only sought out the comfort of the vast library. (Though, it was not as if you despised his companionship like you did before. Was he poisoning your mind by keeping you in such close proximity?) 

“I can get along with him after we are married.”

You barely saw your mother rolling her eyes. “You would best get used to getting along with him now. After you are wed, you will have to do whatever he pleases regardless of your own feelings on the matter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She let out a long sigh before sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. She stared at her lap for a moment, then reached over for your hand. You were sure it was more for her comfort than anything for you. “When you are wed, there are things that you must do to appease your husband. To produce an heir, you will…have to lay with him.”

Your mother continued with an awkward description of what “laying with him” meant. To your chagrin, she did not spare any details about the discomfort you would experience with the act. How men are seldom kind with it. How, even after you gave him children, he would still force you into bed for his own pleasure. How you might never experience pleasure from it. Would Coryo be like that?, you wondered. He was like other men in a lot of ways. He could be cold and callous and demanding. But he was different, too. He let you be mouthy and do as you please. You often thought he enjoyed the way you would never just let things be. Coryo could be kind, in his own strange way. Would he be like other men, or would he surprise you? Would he treat you differently?

“…I think I might actually be sick now,” you murmur. You squeeze your mother’s hand, grateful for once for her presence.

“I don’t say all of this to scare you, dove,” she continued, “but I would be a failure as a mother if I let you go into this union completely blind. I would be like my mother. I would not forgive myself if kept the realities of marriage from you.”

And, suddenly, it dawned on you why your mother seldom cared for your father’s presence. He, too, was like other men.

“I …thank you.”

Your mother squeezed your hand back, then let go. She stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “I will give you a few moments to collect yourself, then I shall send your lady’s maid in so you may get ready for the ball.”

You cannot change my entire perspective on how a marriage operates and leave like nothing happened, you wanted to say. But you still felt queasy. You worried if you said anything, you might be sick all over yourself and the floor. It would take so long to make you presentable again, you would surely be late for the ball. Coryo may be a kind man at times, but you knew him well enough to know that he would feel disrespected if you missed this event. Especially when he through all the trouble of planning it.

So, you nodded and took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. 

“Well, if you aren’t the perfect picture of a bride-to-be, I don’t know who is,” Livia said, joining you at your side as you entered the palace’s ballroom. “It almost makes me wish I was getting married.”

“I’ll be sure to let your mother know you think so. There are still plenty eligible young men, and plenty of time left in the season,” your mother said, holding back a laugh, before slipping off to join the other mothers of the ton. 

Livia nearly grimaced. “Perhaps I should have waited until you were alone to say that.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. She doesn’t mean it. She can’t tease me anymore since I hit back harder, so she’ll aim for anyone she perceives as weaker.”

Livia looked unconvinced as she watched your mother laugh with hers. “We’ll see. If I end up engaged by the end of the week, I will write you to a letter to say I told you so.”

“Or you could tell me in person.”

Livia blinked. “In a week’s time, you’ll be in your honeymoon period with the King. By the time I see you again, I could be married and off for my own honeymoon.”

“Oh. I…I forget that it’s so soon. So much has happened in such a short while.” And, oh, how you wanted to tell her. Or perhaps not Livia specifically, but someone. Tell someone about the secret deals between your father and Coryo, how Sejanus tried to convince you to run away with him, how you’ve pretended to like Coryo for so long that it didn’t quite feel like pretending anymore. 

“Perhaps then I should remind you?” a teasing voice came from your side, followed by a kiss to your cheek. You painted a smile on your face as you looked up at Coryo. “I can’t have my bride forgetting such an important day.”

“You shouldn’t have swept me up in such a whirlwind then, Coryo,” you said. It still felt strange to call him by his nickname, especially in such a public setting. It was a bit more natural in private, when there wasn’t prying eyes and listening ears abound. This felt too…vulnerable. Like you were exposing yourself to the ton. 

Coryo beamed, his pretty white teeth sparkling. Even if calling him by his nickname left you feeling vulnerable, you knew it put you in his good graces. You had hated seeing him so enraged at Sejanus, worried about the lengths he would go to prove you could not be stolen away from him. Calling him Coryo was the only way you could get him to see reason. 

“Ah, but then I couldn’t do this, could I?”

In front of everyone, Coryo pulled your face close to his, planted his lips right on yours. It wasn’t his usual sort of kiss, all tongue and teeth. No, this was softer, gentler. A kiss that made you believe that maybe he did love you all of these years, that he did truly propose three times before finally getting to call you his. When he pulled away, a soft smile on his face, you had to force yourself to tear your eyes, to ignore the quick thump-thump-thump-ing of your heart. 

Oh, but looking away was worse.  

For it seemed like the entire ton was enraptured by your kiss with Coryo. So you looked back at him, hoping that the ton would fade away from your peripheral vision. 

Coryo’s hand found yours. He intertwined his fingers with your own, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. “I want to show you something,” he said to you. To Livia, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Cardew.”

Without waiting for her to say anything, Coryo pulled you away. He led you through the crowd, ignoring anyone who attempted to start a conversation with him. He was the perfect picture of focused.

“Do I get to know where you’re stealing me away to?”

Coryo huffed out a laugh. “I’m hardly stealing you away, petal. You looked overwhelmed out there. I thought you might like some fresh air.”

He took you out to the balcony that overlooked the gardens. You chose to focus on the beautiful rose bushes you could see, the white petals shining under the moonlight. “That tends to happen when everyone is watching an unmarried woman be kissed.”

A brow raised. “I can’t kiss my wife?”

“Of course you can,” you said. You offered a teasing smile. “When I am your wife. Until then, it’s private kisses only.”

“We’re in private now.”

“How convenient for you.” You placed your hands on his chest as he grabbed your waist. “Did you bring out here on false pretenses? Playing the role of my knight in shining armor so that you might continue to defile me before we wed? My, my, you are such a snake.”

“Would you blame me if I did?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You were never less sure of anything than you were about Coryo. He burrowed  himself under your skin, tore you from the inside out. But when he was sweet, oh, he could be sweet. When he was like that, you were half convinced that your teeth might just all rot away. Snow was everything that you hated, but Coryo could be everything that you loved. Damn him for containing multitudes. 

“Just kiss me. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo! IT'S ME AGAINNNNN!

Okay, so I was listening to a song and daydreaming, and then boom—I came up with this idea,It might not make total sense(lmao), but here we gooooo...

So, Donna and the reader are close. They’re not exactly friends, but it’s definitely more than just “a lord and a random villager.” The catch? Donna has a girlfriend whom she genuinely loves. Every time she sees the reader, she can’t help but rave about how amazing her girlfriend is, always blabbing about her personality and how great she treats Donna.

But then, They break up over something (maybe Donna finds out that Mother Miranda sent her "girlfriend" to make her feel less lonely). Donna is heartbroken, but during one of her crises, she realizes the reader is the one who ACTUALLY cares about her. So, she gets her emotions in check and starts getting close to the reader, and they eventually start dating. Donna is OVER THE MOON because, this time, she knows someone is truly in love with her, and she turns into a total hopeless romantic. She loves the reader way more than she ever loved her ex (way more than ANYONE actually)

But here’s where it gets a bit shaky: the reader sometimes feels like she's not enough because she remember all the sweet things Donna used to say about her ex. So, the reader starts putting a ton of pressure on herself, trying to be better. Donna notices right away and makes it her mission to ensure the reader never feels that way again. (You can totally ignore this part if you’re not feeling the angst, though!)

yeah that's it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, CUTIE! WISH YOU THE BEST! TSCHÜSS!

Yess!!!! Thank you for your request and for being here!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A fake love, a real love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word count: 7,643

Summary: You loved her, but she didn't...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Walking to that isolated mansion might seem like an unwanted routine, something you had to do, but you didn't like. No one could blame you if you refused that usual errand, if you refused to cross that forest, those ruins, to get closer to the home where fear itself lived.

But you, a normal villager, young, happy and without much fear of everything around you, didn't see it that way. It was a normal transaction that had been common for you since you could remember. Your parents were farmers, a profession that couldn't be missing in an isolated village like that. Fruits, vegetables... everything that could feed a person was sold and grown by them.

Naturally, they weren't the only family that provided the village with food, but it was the only one who had the privilege of doing so for important people. Your father was related to a person who had long worked in the lands of the Beneviento family. That connection with one of the four noble families was what made you never lacked work.

Your parents were providers for that strange family long before you were born, like a kind of family profession that was inherited over time. You never knew the old family that lived next to a waterfall, that made dolls to brighten up the boring life of the villagers.

When you were born, they no longer existed. Misfortune had taken its toll on that Italian family. Not even your father could quite understand what exactly happened; he was only a child when Mr. and Mrs. Beneviento decided to end their life by jumping into the void.

It was the end of their existence, but not the end of their family. They left a girl too young to bear that horrible loss, a strange girl, carrier of a terrible mental illness.

No one could have guessed what would become of that girl after the death of her family. Only Josef Simon, the family gardener, and your young father were able to discover what was left in that horrible place, which then belonged to the only daughter who survived the tragedy: the young and sick Donna Beneviento.

You didn't know much about her, only what your parents talked about from time to time. Shortly after that tragedy, the Beneviento girl closed herself off even more, spending years and years completely alone.

But that was until, one day, when the young Donna apparently decided to give up, her destiny changed forever. Mother Miranda, the priestess who claimed to have the will of the Black Gods, saw something in that young woman with black hair and a horrible scar on her face.

The young Donna, barely 32 years old, became (you didn't know if voluntarily or not) one of the four Lords, the youngest of the witch's adopted children. That was too long ago, enough for your father to know something about who he was working for.

As time went by, the cold relationship with the lady of the mansion remained as a silent alliance. Serving a noble family and then, serving a Lord… It was definitely a good change for your family.

Since you were very young, you had accompanied your parents on their deliveries and, of course, you had walked the dangerous path that led to the mansion. You barely remember what your first encounters with that strange woman, with that veiled woman, dressed in black, who never, ever said a single word, were like.

You were just a little girl, and, well, the power that Lady Beneviento had, allowed her to give life to the Angie doll. You were a little girl, Angie was a doll. It was quite evident that it caught your attention.

Little by little you began to want to go to the mansion to play with the puppet, to laugh, to have fun with its irreverent attitude. Tag, hide and seek... For a girl without too many friends like you, the Angie doll began to seem like a playmate.

That silent appreciation of the lady, and Angie's playful attitude towards you was something your parents would always be grateful for. If Angie was happy, Donna was happy, if Donna was happy, you could live another day.

Of course you weren’t immortal, you didn’t have the grace of not aging, and as time went by, you grew up enough to get bored of playing with the doll. The lady, always hidden in the shadows, began to catch your attention. She was a lonely woman, a woman you didn’t know if she even noticed you.

Already in your teens, you began to show some of your slightly more daring attitude, asking questions to the lady in black, or even sharing books with her; a silent exchange that didn't seem to bother the Lord. Due to that lack of fear the lady generated in you, unlike your parents, at only 14 years old, you were the only one in charge of delivering the orders to that lost mansion.

Getting along with Donna was perhaps an exaggeration, but, unlike most of the villagers, you didn't feel uncomfortable with her presence. Her gestures were vague, and your voice and Angie's were the only ones that could be heard.

The years passed and that strange relationship you had with the lady in black mutated little by little, until, finally, you had the privilege of hearing her hoarse voice, addressing you.

Small talks, advices, personal experiences... the conversations became more complicated as you grew up, becoming a new routine that you considered pleasant.

Donna wasn’t your friend, she never was and she never would be, but your relationship certainly couldn't be limited to what it really was. You were both quite close, you had known each other for many years, and you learned to relate in a pleasant way.

At 21, you continued working for your parents. You continued walking through that dark forest, knocking on that door, talking with the lady in black.

She had lost her fear of the unknown, of that smiling girl who brought her vegetables. The trust increased enough for Lady Beneviento to do something unthinkable, uncover her face.

Your father barely remembered what her face was like, what that young, tormented girl looked like. No one had seen that woman once adopted by Miranda, no one knew what that black veil hid, no one, except you.

Beneath the black cloth there was no hideous monster, as your companions used to say or speculate. No, there was only a beautiful woman, black and shiny hair, a beautiful eye, an existing one.

You could sense why the lady in black covered herself, but you didn't quite understand it. Donna Beneviento, Lord and doll maker, wasn't a monster, and somehow, you knew that some time ago.

You tried to convince yourself, to deny the things you were starting to feel when you were with her, but you couldn't.

That strange woman who barely spoke to you, but who smiled, who laughed at your stupid comments, was no longer just a job for you. She was no longer Lady Beneviento, she was just Donna. Without being friends you were close, and, at 21 years old, with no hope of finding love, she became the involuntary target of your heart.

You couldn't help it, you were crazy about her. It didn't matter that you knew what she was capable of, that you had heard the horrible things she did in the past, those that your parents sometimes commented on. She was everything to you, the only reason that made you smile in your hard work.

Distracted, you approached the estate with your weekly order, clumsily checking that your working girl clothes were as neatly arranged as possible.

“Ahem,” you said, clearing your throat before knocking softly on the door.

“Who is it?” a squeaky voice asked, along with small footsteps on the wood.

Behind the door was not Donna, but the doll Angie, comically opening it and looking at you suspiciously.

“Hi, Angie, how are you?” you asked, crouching down pleasantly and smiling kindly at your old playmate.

“Oh, it's you,” the doll said, placing a hand on her chest. “I thought you wouldn't come, silly.”

“Of course I came, I-I'm bringing the vegetables,” you said, pointing to the boxes. “Is Donna here?”

“Um, yes,” Angie said, leaning over the boxes and picking up some vegetables. “But… she’s kind of… busy right now.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a dagger stab your heart slowly, painfully. “T-Then I better go and…”

“No, no, don’t go,” Angie said, tugging at your dress hastily. “Stay, stay.”

“I don’t want to disturb you,” you said in a small voice, suppressing a sob.

“Nonsense, we like you being here,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Come, come in.”

“Angie, I don’t…” you said uncertainly, picking up the boxes and entering the mansion. “W-Wait,” you said whispering when the doll closed the door and walked away from you and towards the living room.

“Hey, you two! Stop that!” Angie shrieked, causing some annoying grunts that you tried not to hear. “(Y/N) has come! Hey, silly, come here!”

Obeying without really wanting to, you walked slowly towards the voices. Just as you feared, on Donna's lap, there was a girl, one you had known for a while, who was part of your visits to the estate.

“Oh, (Y/N), I'm glad to see you,” the lady in black said with a soft voice, standing up and straightening her dress, with a kind smile.

“Hello, Donna,” you said, with a slight blush on your cheeks, looking away from the young woman who sat up, getting up from the sofa, putting on her clothes as well. “I-I'm glad too. S-Sorry to interrupt, Angie…”

“Mm, don't worry, we were just... wasting the time,” the Lord said softly, with an embarrassed smile. “Sit down, please... would you like some tea?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to disturb,” you said kindly, moving away from the overwhelming presence of the lady, from her addictive smile. “H-Hello, Anya.”

The girl nodded with a fake smile, checking that her dress, a little flashy one, was in its place.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” the young woman said, walking beside you.

“Fine,” you said dryly, looking at the floor and not at how the girl approached Donna, planting a wet kiss on one of her cheeks, causing a shy giggle that made you tremble.

“Donna, honey, I've taken up too much of your time, I'd better get home,” Anya murmured in her ear, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you going to leave? Why don't you stay and have some tea with (Y/N) and me?” the lady asked, gently grabbing her hand, with a pleading eye.

“I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't,” she whispered, approaching the coat rack to pick up her clothes. “Don't worry, sweetie, see you tomorrow, mm?” she said, approaching Donna again and running a hand over her chest. “I'll let you do whatever you want to me... Don...” she whispered, discreetly making you burn and kissing the lady slowly, before moving away and walking definitively towards the exit.

“Va bene,” Donna sighed, without losing sight of her girlfriend.

“Mm, don't talk to me that weird, you know I don't understand you,” Anya said, shaking her head as she opened the door.

“I'm sorry, I mean... it's okay, see you tomorrow,” the woman in black corrected, playing nervously with her hands. “Be careful, please.”

“Of course, baby,” the girl said, before throwing a kiss in the air and closing the door, disappearing, to your relief.

That girl was a bit stupid, but your opinion was clouded by spite, so you never told Donna what you thought.

Anya had been her girlfriend for some time. You still remember the pain it caused you to hear it from her lips, to hear that there was someone who had managed to make Donna fall in love, and that it wasn't you.

Donna loved her with all her heart. She did nothing but speak wonders of that young woman from the village, who appeared by chance in her life and turned it upside down. Jealousy and rage built up in your body every time you saw her approach Donna, kiss her, caress her, but you had to suffer in silence.

Confessing your love was something for which it was too late and, even if it was just a friendship, you didn’t want to lose it, you wanted to continue seeing that beautiful woman, even if her heart never belonged to you.

“She is beautiful, isn't she?” the lady murmured when her girlfriend left, biting her lip and turning shyly.

You smiled sadly, nodding and looking at your clothes, completely different from that Anya’s, from that love-stealer.

“Yes, she is,” you sighed with a fake smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“Sono pazza di lei,” Donna whispered, leaning her head towards the door.

“Yes, I see that,” you said amused, bending down to pick up the boxes and put them on the table. “Look, Donna, I brought you the vegetables you asked for.”

“Mm, let me see, (Y/N),” she said, getting a little closer to you to rummage through the boxes, carefully examining the vegetables. “Wow, those peppers look really good.”

“It's been a very good harvest,” you commented distracted by her slender hands, hands that would never caress you.

“No doubt,”  Donna murmured, going back to put the vegetables. “Aspetta un attimo, I'm going to get your money.”

“Okay,” you said with a kind look, without losing sight of her, without missing a detail of her walk, the hypnotic dance of her dress.

“Thank goodness she's gone…” Angie said, suddenly getting on the table, scaring you. “That girl is a pain in the ass.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously, checking the vegetables again. “She seems nice.”

“Nice? She's dumb and boring as a rock. She never wants to play with me,” the doll said, making you laugh unintentionally and shake your head. “I don't know what Donna saw in her.”

“She's beautiful,” you said with a sad voice, looking at the place where the Lord disappeared and gently closing your eyes. “Donna didn't deserve less.”

“Do you like that stupid girl?” Angie asked, making you think carefully about your answer.

“Um, well, I don't know her very well, but if she makes Donna happy…” you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I guess I like her.”

“I don't,” Angie said, with a brusque gesture. “I don't like that girl at all, but Donna doesn't listen to me, she's completely in love with her.”

“It's good that Donna has a girlfriend she loves, she deserves it, you know as well as I do that she's been through a lot of disgraces,” you said without wanting to say it, hurting yourself.

“That's what worries me,” the doll said, getting a little closer to you. “Donna's a fool too, suddenly a pretty girl comes out of nowhere, tells her she’s in love with her and wants to be with her… and all that shit.”

“What are you implying?” you asked, now paying full attention.

“I didn't imply anything, I'm saying it clearly: I don't want that stupid girl to be Donna's girlfriend,” Angie said, with a confidential whisper, almost speaking in your ear. “I don't like Anya, there's something about her that gives me a bad feeling.”

“I'm afraid that's what Donna has chosen, you can't do anything,” you commented with a sad sigh, watching the door.

“No... but you can,” the puppet said, pointing at you. “You are her friend, aren't you?”

“Me? I-I don't know if friend is the right word but...”

“You can tell her what you think of that stupid girl, Donna will listen to you,” said the doll, jumping comically on the table.

“What? No, I'm not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head. “Donna is happy with Anya and I have no right to butt in.”

“Another boring girl,” Angie said, getting down from the table when the lady's heels began to echo on the wood. “I wish you were her girlfriend instead that fool.”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you didn't have much time to think about it, as Donna appeared through the door, a bag of coins in her hand.

“Prego,” she whispered, giving you the bag with a tender smile, to which you nodded.

“Thanks Donna, I hope you didn't overpay me as usual,” you said amused.

She laughed and shook her head.

“Are you going to question my will, (Y/N)?” she joked, gesturing for you to follow her to the couch.

“I would never dare,” you said, putting the coins in your bag.

“Sit with me,” she said, kicking the couch. “Do you want to play chess?”

“Chess?” you asked, sitting as far away from her as possible while she pulled out an old board. “I-I don't know, I always lose.”

“Don't talk nonsense, you've beaten me more than once,” Donna said, her gaze away from yours, placing the pieces. “White or black?”

“Black. You probably play a lot with Anya…” you commented, choosing a color while the lady focused on the board, looking at you briefly and shaking her head.

“Not really,” the doll maker whispered, sitting in front of you, with a thoughtful look. “Anya says it's boring. She doesn't like to play this… kind of games.”

“Oh, well, I guess there are all kinds of tastes, right?” you asked, ignoring that information. “Let's see…”

“Certo,” Donna sighed, making her first move. “Anyway, we don't have much time to play or chat. I'm afraid that... well, she really likes... kissing me.”

You swallowed a sob, moving your piece and nodding slowly.

“I understand why,” you whispered in a terribly low voice.

“Scusi?” she asked, concentrating on your move. “Did you say something, (Y/N)?”

“No, nothing, I was just... thinking about my next move,” you lied, erratically moving another of the pieces. “I guess it's wonderful to have someone so affectionate by your side.”

“It is, of course it is,” Donna sighed, with a tender smile.

Nothing that happened that afternoon was out of the ordinary. The conversations with Donna usually traveled between unimportant experiences or... well, or compliments and words of love from the brunette to her girl.

Anya must have been the most wonderful girl in the world, or at least she was to Donna. The lady never got tired of talking about her, praising her… You might think it was almost unbearable to spend time with her just to hear about her girlfriend, but it wasn't like that. You were her only friend, or her only truly close contact, surely the only one who listened to her.

You loved Donna hopelessly. Even if her words weren't about you, they were her words, it was her voice.

Another afternoon of soft laughter, another night of dreams and fantasies about her. At some point you should realize the mistake you made by falling in love with Donna Beneviento, the delay in your confession, the theft of her heart by that beautiful girl.

Donna was crazy about her, she always told you so innocently, without knowing the damage she was doing to you, without wanting to know, perhaps.

The days passed and your visits could be summed up in chess games or comments about how fabulous Anya was. Angie's words echoed in your head.

Naturally, the Angie doll was jealous and distrustful, but the insinuation that she would prefer you to be Donna's girlfriend... You just couldn't get it out of your head.

“Thank you, Mrs. Fritz,” you said pleasantly, after doing your daily shopping in the village.

“Give my regards to your parents, dear,” the woman said, making you smile before setting off on your way back home.

You didn't live as isolated as Donna, but you had a nice walk to the orchards, a walk you always enjoyed.

“Shh, hey, Anya...” a male voice caught your attention as you walked.

Behind one of the crumbling walls of the orchards, there was a boy hiding, gesturing to a young woman who seemed to walk slowly, looking around.

You recognized her immediately: Anya, Donna's girlfriend. You weren't usually a gossipy girl, but this situation was a out of the ordinary, so you slowly camouflaged yourself in the wheat fields, behind a stone wall.

“Sergei…” Anya sighed, looking cautiously as she approached the boy. You had to quickly crouch down as they both looked in your direction.

“Has anyone followed you?” the young man asked, grabbing the girl's hands while you peeked discreetly.

“Of course not, you know I'm careful,” Anya said, letting that boy grab her waist and… kiss her, kiss her passionately.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands, blinking in bewilderment at the sight before you. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.

“I've missed you, I thought you came back every night,” the boy said, kissing her repeatedly. “Did she trick you into staying again?”

“No, she knows I need some room and… well, thank goodness, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to see you,” Anya said, leaving you more and more confused.

“This situation is awkward, Anya, I can't stand to think what you do with… with her,” he said, with an angry gesture. “To think that you kiss her, that you… Gods, Anya, you have to end this.”

“Do you think it makes me happy to be with that nutcase? That I have another option?” Donna's girlfriend asked, crossing her arms. “You knew what the situation is.”

“I know but… maybe if you talk to Mother Miranda and…”

“I've already told you, Sergei, I would never dare to contradict her, besides, it's not difficult to fool the idiot Beneviento, we can still see each other,” she said, leaving you frozen on the ground.

“Yes, but for how long?” the boy asked, resting his hands on the shoulders of the girl, who sighed with a sad look.

“I don't know, but... I promise I'll fix it, I promise you,” she said, with a much more genuine smile than the one you had seen in the mansion as if she really... were in love with that boy, as if she didn't care about Donna.

Your trembling legs moved nervously, accidentally stepping on a dry branch, which alerted the lovers.

“You better go, Sergei, I'll call you when I'm free,” Anya said, gesturing for the boy to leave.

 He did, and you stood up from your hiding place, terribly furious.

That perfect girlfriend that Donna adored was a farce, a lie. You wanted to throw yourself at her, pull her hair, yell at her for cheating on the love of your life, but you didn't dare to do it. You were just a coward, but something inside your head prevented you from letting that discovery go, and you started walking towards her.

“You,” you said, getting her attention, walking through the orchards. The girl didn't move. She just frowned at you, as if she hadn't recognized you at first.

“Hi, you're (Y/N), right?” she said with a fake smile, with a somewhat cocky pose. “How are you?”

“Great, I just found out what you're doing to Donna,” you said without wasting time, pointing at her in an unpleasant way.

“Please…” she sighed, rolling her eyes, with no intention of denying the evidence. “Are you surprised?”

“What? You're Donna's girlfriend, of course it surprises me. How dare you to cheat on her?” you said defiantly, dropping your bags on the snowy ground. “She loves you very much, did you know that?”

“Of course I know… unfortunately,” she muttered with a look of disgust. “Hey, vegetable girl, I hope you're not thinking of spilling the beans.”

“What do you expect me to do?” you asked furiously, hating that stupid girl even more. Angie was right.

“Mm, well, okay, let's talk, shall we?” she said, helping you pick up the bags from the ground and handing them to you kindly.

“There's nothing to talk about, it's all very clear,” you hissed, moving away from her, who shook her head, sighing tiredly.

“Six months ago, Mother Miranda asked me to go to church,” the girl began to tell, as if you were really listening to her. “Naturally I was willing to do whatever she asked me to do.”

“What are you talking about?” you wanted to know, stopping your steps.

“She told me that her youngest daughter, Lady Beneviento, was going through a rough patch, that she was very lonely and… well, she was afraid that she would decide to do something stupid. You and I know that Beneviento is not right in the head.”

“Don't insult her,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Don't you dare to insult her.”

“I'm just telling the truth, (Y/N), denying that she is sick would be stupid,” Anya said, with a serious expression.

“That doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all,” you said in a low voice, looking away from Anya.

“Mother Miranda thought it would be a good idea to give her… well, some fun, I don't know if you know what I mean,” she explained with a sinister look. “Understand me, my family is poor, and I need all the appreciation of the Black Gods. At first I just had to go to Beneviento's house and have sex with her but… well, it didn't turn out as I expected.”

“How disgusting,” you said nervously, running a hand over your forehead.

“The stupid Donna fell in love with me and far from considering my work finished, Mother Miranda asked me to play along, to be with her so she wouldn't feel so terribly alone.”

“And you accepted,” you hissed, looking at her out of the corner of your eye.

Anya sighed and nodded, with a calm look.

“I assumed it was okay to play pretending to have feelings for her, surely Miranda would think that Donna would get tired of me, but… obviously she didn't,” the young woman said, lowering her gaze.

“You're stupid, Anya, you're playing with poor Donna's feelings, aren't you ashamed?” you accused, unable to believe her words.

“Poor Donna? What's so much affection for her about? You only bring her vegetables, don't you?” she asked, frowning at your revealing attitude.

“I've known Do... Lady Beneviento since I was 5 years old,” you explained, running a hand through your hair.

“I see... you know her... well,” the girl said with a sinister laugh. “Well, you should know, vegetable girl: I don't care about her. I just want to get on with my life and get away from her so I can be with my boyfriend.”

“I assumed so,” you said mockingly. “But do you know what you're doing? You're playing with her feelings, Donna loves you and...”

“I don't feel the same,” the young woman sighed, leaning against a wall. “It's very easy to judge others, isn't it? You don't understand my situation, vegetable girl. I can't do anything.”

“Of course you can, you must tell her,” you said, in a calmer tone. “She has to know the truth.”

“Wrong, silly girl,” she said, arching her eyebrows. “If I tell that nutcase that I don't love her, that it's all been a lie, I'm dead.”

“She adores you, she would never hurt you,” you said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “She loves you madly, she wouldn't dare to…”

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I should go to her house and tell her that it's all been a lie? Seriously, girl, where did you come from?”

“It's better than her finding out on her own, don't you think? If you want to get away from her so much… it must be you,” you said, without thinking too much.

“Why do you care so much about that crazy woman?” Anya asked, making you back away.

“My reasons are… only mine,” you murmured. “I don't want her to suffer.”

“You don't want her to suffer... if I didn't know that no one could feel anything for Donna, I would think that you were terribly in love with her,” Anya mocked, shaking her head.

“You're wrong,” you murmured in a dark tone. “You have to end this, Anya, for your own sake.”

“Mm, maybe I'll think about it, she's unbearable, you know?” Anya said in an unpleasant tone, moving away from the wall and passing by you. “It might not be such a bad idea, after all.”

“You are unbearable,” you growled when the girl walked away.

That conversation, that revelation fell on you like a bucket of cold water, freezing you, leaving you completely lost. You didn't feel joy or relief, only sadness for Donna. She was crazy about Anya, she would give her life for her if she asked. She was madly in love.

Breaking her heart, telling her what you had seen wasn’t in your plans, but you didn't want to go back to the mansion either, not when you knew that those kisses they gave each other were fake ones. You decided to get away for a while, just for a while, until you could forget that horrible truth and stop being tempted to reveal it.

“Honey, something's wrong,” your mother commented at dinnertime, surely looking at your sad expression. You faked a smile and shook your head.

“Mm, your mother is right, (Y/N), what is it…?”

Your father couldn't finish the question, as the phone rang to interrupt that attempt at interrogation.

“Hello,” your father said, picking up the phone, immediately moving it away from his ear, due to some loud, high-pitched screams coming out of it. “Hello? Who's speaking? Are you a little girl? Hey, listen…”

“What's wrong?” you asked, getting up from your chair and approaching slowly.

“It’s for you, (Y/N),” your father said, handing you the phone. “She must be a friend of yours.”

“A friend?” you asked, bringing it close to your ear and recognizing the screams. Angie. “Who is it?”

“Oh, it's you, thank goodness…” the doll said, with her voice distorted by a terrible cry that sounded in the distance. “(Y/N), you have to come, now.”

“Angie? What's wrong?” you asked somewhat scared, with your family looking at you with intrigue.

“There's no time to explain it to you, silly! Come, run, come! Donna is completely out of her mind!” the doll shrieked, before hanging up.

“D-Donna?” you asked, hanging up scared and looking at your family. Something had happened, something had happened to Donna.

“What's wrong, honey?” your mother asked as you ran out of the house. “(Y/N)!?”

You didn't pay attention to her calls. You just limited yourself to running without looking back. You didn't know what had happened, but Donna needed your help, and you had to give it to her.

In record time you arrived at the dimly lit mansion. The door was open and agonizing sobs echoed off the walls.

“It's about time!” Angie shouted, welcoming you and pulling your hand to guide you to the living room. “Quick!”

The sight before you shattered your heart. Donna, the lady in black, was sitting on the floor, her head between her legs, pulling at her hair as she sobbed inconsolably. All around her were traces of fury, of broken furniture. Something terrible had happened. Donna had lost her mind again.

“Donna...” you sighed, cautiously approaching the lady, who roared, cried and kicked the air without moving from the floor, muttering something you couldn't understand. “Gods, Donna, your hand,” you said when you saw her blood stained knuckles, looking at Angie sharply. “What happened?”

“Just like I told you, that whore wasn't trustworthy! She left my Donna!” the doll shrieked, approaching her owner. “My Donna is very nervous, she's having a very bad crisis, you have to help her! She doesn't listen to me anymore.”

“Anya's gone?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“She left me!” Donna shrieked, making you look at her. “She didn't love me, she never loved me!” she screamed, pulling at her hair again, something you tried to stop.

“No, Donna, stop… don't hurt yourself,” you said, fighting against her sudden movements, against her nervous kicks. “Shh, Donna, please… I'm so sorry, darling…”

“Troietta! You bitch!” the lady shrieked, attacking you as if you were the girl who broke her heart, throwing herself at you, struggling.

“Donna, Donna, no!” Angie screamed, pushing the lady off of you with a thud.

You had to admit that you were scared, but you made a superhuman effort to stay calm, to soothe her wounded heart.

“No, darling, please stop…” you said, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her body towards yours to hug her tightly. “It's over, Donna… Shh… it's over…”

“Porca miseria!” the lady shrieked, trying to release herself from your embrace until, thanks to your strength and mental advantage in the situation, the poor lady calmed down, staying close to you, crying at your chest.

“Shh…” you whispered while, sitting on the floor, you tenderly rocked Donna, calming her down little by little. “Shh, it's over Donna… I'm here with you… calm down… that's it… very good, very good, Donna, relax with me…”

“Listen to her, Donna, she's here, (Y/N) has come to help you,” Angie said, carefully approaching your embraced bodies, the soft maternal movements with which you rocked her.

The sobs were horrible, piercing, but little by little they stopped sounding, being nothing but an agonizing lament while you rubbed her hair, keeping her head on your chest.

“Shhh, Donna…” you whispered softly, wiping her tears and moving her away from you when you saw she was feeling better.

“Mm?” the lady murmured, slowly pushing you away, her eye was red from crying and her cheek full of tears. Donna blinked confused at the sight of you, running a hand through her hair. “(Y/N)… what… what are you doing here?” she asked with a thick accent, looking at you suspiciously, disoriented.

“Angie called me a while ago, she said you had lost your mind,” you explained with a soft voice, while she got up from the floor in pain, sitting on the couch, looking at you briefly.

“I don't…” she stammered, still confused, shaking her head. “(Y/N)… I…”

“Relax, I'm here,” you said with a tender smile, sitting next to her and glancing at her hand. “Did you break a glass again? Wow, you have a serious wound, Donna…”

She looked away, embarrassed, but letting you play with her injured hand.

“You shouldn't be here,” the lady whispered with a dark voice, looking at you shyly. “I could have hurt you. I-If I lose you too, I'll...”

“You haven't,” you said, daring to run a hand over her cheek. “You won't lose me…” you whispered softly, looking at the doll again. “Angie, bring the first aid kit, please.”

Once again in silence, you healed the wound the lady had self-inflicted. The sound of the wind and slight moans of pain were the only atmosphere in that place, until the lady glanced at you out of the corner of her eye as you bandaged her hand.

“Anya left me,” Donna whispered in a sad voice, gripping the fabric of the sofa tightly. “She came this afternoon and told me that… she didn't love me.”

You looked at her, but repressed any attempt to speak.

“Mother Miranda sent her to pretend that she loved me, to make me believe that I wasn't alone,” the brunette explained, nervous, but at the same time, calm.

“I'm so sorry, Donna,” you said in a whisper, tying the bandages tightly. “I couldn't imagine that…”

“I did, I should have realized,” she said, looking away with a nervous moan. “I should have realized!”

“Shh, don't yell anymore, honey…” you whispered in a sweet voice, caressing her injured hand. “You must get over it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Donna asked, shaking her head. “I-It's all been a lie… She cheated on me!”

“I'm sorry,” you said with a broken voice, feeling guilty for knowing it, and not having warned her before. “I'm so sorry, Donna.”

“I must look pathetic, right?” she said with a sinister smile, panting nervously. “How pathetic is Donna, who needs you to pay her a whore so she doesn't feel so alone, because, of course, no one could ever love her.”

“Don't say that, it's not true,” you said, holding back your tears, calming the doll maker's madness with your touch. “That's a lie, do you hear me?”

“You...” she hissed, moving away from your caresses, abruptly getting up from the sofa. “Is that why you came? She also sends you!” she shrieked, pointing at you with a deranged gesture. “You're a liar! Bugiarda!”

“No, Donna, that's not true, I came to help you,” you said nervously, somewhat scared. “You are… you are…”

“What am I? A moron who doesn't deserve to be loved? Poor Donna, she needs a toy to play with and not to think about the shitty life she has, right? You whores, you're all sluts! Sluts!”

“No, Donna, you're wrong, I…” you said trembling, putting your hands in a defensive position.

“What are you doing here then?! Why are you pretending to care about me? Huh? Talk, bitch!” Donna shouted, grabbing you by the collar of your dress.

“Silly Donna, let her go!” Angie said, fearing that her fury would be launched against you. “Donna, Donna…”

“I… I care about you because… because I'm in love with you,” you said with a broken voice, stammering and preventing her hands from applying more force, from hurting you. “I love you, Donna, I've always loved you.”

“What?” she asked, frowning and letting you go immediately. “What…?”

“I'm sorry to tell you in a situation like this, but if you're going to kill me… I want you to know what I feel for you, for longer than I'd like to admit…” you said, squeezing your eyes tightly, waiting for a nightmare that never came.

Again, the silence caused the atmosphere to become tense. Donna moved away from you, looking at you with distrust, breathing with difficulty.

“It's not true, you don't…” she murmured nervously, looking at you briefly and moving confused. “It can't be true.”

“I don't care if you don't believe me, I understand that you don't, but I want, I want you to know that you are a wonderful and beautiful woman and... you can say whatever you want, but you have made me fall in love with you, Donna, what I feel for you is what you have done, being who you are. Don't think that it's not possible for someone to fall in love with you, to want to give you their heart because I... have already done it.”

Saying those last words, ensuring your confession, you slowly stood up ready to leave the mansion, to leave poor Donna alone.

“A-Aspetta, (Y/N)” Donna interrupted, before you walked out the door. “Wait, please.”

You turned slowly, scared of the consequences of your confession.

“You...” she whispered, approaching with a slow step, with her chest rising and falling quickly, with her gaze lost. “Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes, Donna,” you sighed, wiping away a tear. “I would understand if you didn't want to see me again, I'll tell my father to take care of…”

“N-No, no, wait a moment,” she said, shaking her head, grabbing your arms, very tightly, but without any intention of hurting you. “You… you've always been with me… always.”

You nodded, suppressing the trembling of your body.

“I-I remember you took care of me when I lost my mind, and how you played with Angie when you were little,” Donna said, with a distracted look, but speaking without stuttering. “You were the vegetable girl, but for me you were something else, you know?”

“A fool,” you said amused, sobbing.

“No, you… you were my only friend… you were always there when I needed you, you never cared about my appearance and… you've never abandoned me. (Y/N), is it possible that you're telling me the truth? That you really have feelings for me?”

“I would never lie to you Donna, to me you were much more than a friend or a Lord,” you whispered, looking away, noticing how her grip loosened.

“You have always understood me,” she said, getting a little closer, moving her hand erratically to your cheek. “Angie was right… I-I was so blind with… with her that… I wasn't able to see that you were the only one who was by my side.”

“I will be if you want me to be, always, Donna,” you said in a very low voice, with her too close to you.

“Don't leave, (Y/N)… stay with me,” she asked you, squeezing your hand in hers. “Let me… let me… love you as you have always deserved…”

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the gentle swaying of your bodies. “You don't love me.”

“I may not have known until now,” she whispered, coming closer, placing her lips on yours, a sensation so dreamed, so imagined, that you already knew what it was like, but not how it made you feel.

A tender, salty and slow kiss… It was a quiet, calm kiss, emphasized by her caresses, a kiss that you didn’t expect, that you wanted, even at a time like that.

In that horrible and sad way, with a doubtful but sincere confession, her relationship with that poor girl ended, and one with you began.

At first you were suspicious that her love was real. Anya was too recent and Donna was resentful. It didn't take long for you to realize that you were wrong.

Donna was romantic, sweet, understanding and tender. Being her girlfriend was the best thing that had ever happened to you, you had never felt so loved, so cherished.

It was simply impossible, it was impossible for the lady in black to treat you so well after that breakup. Happiness occupied your entire life, you even moved in with her, but doubts also haunted your mind.

Every night, after the passion, came the thoughts, the fears, those horrible memories about Anya, about the admiration Donna felt for her, the love she had for her. You didn't know what that fake relationship was like inside, but, somehow, you felt inferior to that stupid girl.

Little by little, the pressure you put on your mind took its toll on you. Your movements and attempts to surprise Donna were almost pathetic and… over time, you started to look like that stupid girl, or try to.

The doll maker had no friends, she only had you. She wouldn't talk to anyone about how much she loved you, so you would never know if you had gotten over that stupid girl in some way, and that… that was killing you.

“Come on…” you said comically, trying to fit into a tight, provocative dress, one very similar to the one her ex-girlfriend used to wear.

Maybe your doubts were stupid, but they were doubts, and you had to do everything you could to not think they were justified.

“Okay, that's it,” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I-I can see everything but... well, I guess Donna will like it,” you said, finishing getting ready for a special occasion, the celebration of your 6 months together.

“Here you go, amore mio,” Donna said, serving you dinner and wine elegantly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye and making a strange expression.

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a tender smile, putting yourself in a position that clearly exaggerated your feminine attributes.

“Um, yes, um...” she said nervous and confused.

Smiles, caresses and words of love accompanied you throughout the dinner, but, after dessert, a small moment of awkwardness formed.

Normally you didn't mind Donna looking at your breasts, you even found it funny, but that look was different than other times, very different.

“Donna, are you looking at my tits?” you asked amused, encouraged by the wine. “Do you like them?”

“Y-Yes, of course, you know I love your body, (Y/N),” she said, looking away, without her usual smile.

“You don't seem to like my dress very much,” you whispered distrustfully, with a sad sigh.

“Oh, yes I... just... (Y/N), what are you wearing?” she asked finally, crossing her arms.

You looked at yourself and shrugged with an amused smile.

“It's new,” you said in a seductive voice.

“I see but... You... you don't usually wear that kind of clothes,” Donna commented, with a cold look.

“Yeah but… I thought, I thought you would like it,” you said in a fearful whisper.

“(Y/N), you're… very strange lately, you don't want to play chess, you wear… those things… it seems like something's wrong with you.”

“I'm the same as always,” you said in your defense, with a somewhat dangerous tone and look.

“No, that's not true, you've changed…” she said, shaking her head. “It seems like you're trying to be like…”

“Well, so what if I do? You loved her a lot, didn't you? I have nothing to do with her, you'll never love me that much,” you said, bringing your worries to light.

“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, getting up and approaching you while resting two fingers on your chin. “I like the way you are, do you hear me? I don't want you to be like her, I don't love her. She was stupid and she never wanted to do anything that I liked. She could never, ever compare to you, (Y/N), I've never loved anyone as much as you, only you, and always you... do you understand? I love you, you are the love of my life, you always will be.”

[eeechooo]

Aligned Minds

Fandom : Lockwood & Co.

Pairing : Female Reader X George Karim

Request by @thestrangerblog "Intellectual reader is tired of vain guys who are good looking and know it and think that's enough to get every girl they want. Then reader meets George who is proud of his intellect and who sees brains and character strength in her and not just a pretty face and hot body."

You were tired of them. The peacocks. The guys who sauntered into the room, all confident smirks and perfect hair, thinking their good looks alone could win them the world. They were everywhere, especially in places like this—academic conferences on the supernatural. You had hoped for serious discussions, intellectual stimulation. Instead, you found a sea of vain, posturing boys who thought a charming smile and a well-fitted suit were enough to make them experts on ghostly phenomena.

Sitting in the back of the lecture hall, you scribbled in your notebook, full of doodles and half-formed ideas about the origins of ghosts. The current speaker droned on about the latest theories, but your mind was wandering. You glanced around, noting the usual suspects—guys trying to network rather than truly engage with the material. Typical.

Then he spoke.

“What about the spiritual residue left by traumatic events? Your theory doesn’t account for the variance in Type Two ghost manifestations,” said a voice, sharp and probing.

You turned to see the source. A young man with disheveled hair and a look of intense concentration on his face. He was scribbling something in his notebook, quick. It was messy, you just knew it.

The lecturer, a renowned but notoriously complacent professor, stumbled over his words. “Well, uh, that’s an interesting point, but—”

“But nothing,” the young man cut in, his tone sharp. “If we don’t consider the psychological impact and the nature of the trauma, we’re missing half the picture.”

You were intrigued. This wasn’t the usual superficial debate. This was someone who cared about the truth, who dug deep into the complexities of the supernatural.

When the professor tried to dismiss the question, you couldn’t help yourself. You stood up. “He’s right,” you said, your voice steady. “Ignoring the emotional resonance of traumatic events skews our entire understanding of ghost origins. We need a more holistic approach.”

The room went silent. The professor looked flustered, and several attendees turned to see who had dared to challenge the status quo. But the young man—George, you remembered—smirked and nodded approvingly.

__

During the break, you found yourself gravitating towards George. He was still scribbling in his notebook, muttering to himself.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

He looked up, surprise flashing in his eyes before he smirked again. “By all means. I could use someone who actually gets it.”

You sat down next to him, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement. “I’m really tired of these guys who think they know everything because they look good in a suit.”

George snorted. “Tell me about it. They’re more interested in networking than actual knowledge. It’s infuriating.”

You nodded vigorously. “Exactly! It’s like they think their charm can substitute for real understanding.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the world we live in,” George said, his tone slightly bitter. “But there are a few of us who see through the facade. Want to grab some pizza for lunch? We can discuss how wrong that professor was.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

And that is why, over slices of pizza in a quiet corner of a nearby café, you and George talked non-stop. He told you about Lockwood & Co., the agency he worked for, and the various cases they had handled. His stories were captivating, filled with danger and mystery. Jesus, it seemed better than the work you had in your agency, boring, usually the same routine everyday.

“I’ve always been more interested in the origins of the Problem,” George said between bites. “The nature of ghosts. It’s not just about dealing with the manifestations, it’s about understanding why they happen in the first place. This is just... fascinating”

You nodded, feeling more connected to him with each word. “That’s exactly what drives me too. There’s so much more to uncover, so much that the mainstream theories just… gloss over.”

George leaned back, looking thoughtful. “You know, we should team up. Present our own findings. Show these superficial idiots what real research looks like.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean it?”

“Absolutely. I can tell you’re serious about this. Together, we could really make an impact.”

He was right.

__

Two months flew by in a whirlwind of research, late nights, and shared passion. You had spent the majority of your free time with him, and it felt so, so, so nice. As the day of the presentation dawned, nerves mingled with excitement. Standing side by side in front of a packed lecture hall, you and George delivered your findings with confidence and conviction.

The audience was spellbound, hanging on your every word. Even the skeptics couldn’t deny the weight of your evidence. And when the final word faded to black, applause erupted throughout the room.

As the attendees filed out, exchanging compliments and inquiries, you and George found yourselves outside, the air buzzing with post-presentation energy.

“Pizza?” you proposed, a smile tugging at your lips.

George’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely.”

The pizzeria was bustling with activity, but you managed to snag a quiet corner booth. As you sat down, the adrenaline of the presentation still coursing through your veins, a comfortable silence settled between you.

It was George who broke it first, his voice soft and contemplative. “I can’t believe we did it.”

You nodded, a warm glow spreading through your chest. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “The best.”

As you both dug into your slices, savoring the victory and the delicious food, you felt a surge of courage. You glanced up at George, meeting his gaze head-on.

“It’s a date,” you said, your voice steady.

George’s eyes widened, and he choked on his slice, coughing and sputtering. After a moment, George regained his composure, his cheeks tinged with pink. “I—I mean, yes. Yes, it is.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. For a man that smart, he can sure as hell be clueless sometimes.

__

It was fun writing this, thank you for your request, i hope it was good enough! I'm trying to get back to writing for hours after stopping for maybe a year and oh my i missed it SO MUCH???? also yes i feel like food keeps appearing but oh well it just gets people together. again if you've got request DO NOT HESITATE, i write them based on who commented first but they're all going to be posted! thanks for reading this hehe, take care!!

@neewtmas @cielooci (this is the taglist, if you don't want to be there anymore or if you want to be just tell me!)

[queenshelby]

Daddy Issues (Part Four)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Your PoV

At around eight o'clock in the morning, you woke from your slumber feeling refreshed and pleasantly worn out. It appeared that the entire night's events had left quite an impression on you. In fact, just recalling the events brought forth surges of excitement which you had never felt before. 

The memory of having heated intercourse with Cillian in particular induced goosebumps, sending shivers along your flesh, making you wonder what the day ahead might bring.

When you stumbled into the living room however, only Emma could be found while Jamie had already left in order to go for his usual morning run.

Meeting your eyes, Emma began speaking immediately. "So, did you sleep alright?" She asked kindly, showing genuine concern.

"Yeah, surprisingly enough," you admitted honestly, thinking back to the incredible experiences you had just undergone.

"Cillian did not stay. He never does," Emma explained quietly, running her hands through her messy curls, wondering whether you were upset by how things had ended last night, namely with him leaving. 

"I don't blame him. I hate sleeping in the same bed with strangers anyway," you told Emma lightheartedly, immediately sensing her relief.

"Really? Because I absolutely love staying in the same bed with Jamie. He is surprisingly cuddly," Emma laughed before querying directly how you felt about last night's events.

"Do you have regrets? About last night?" Emma asked, searching your eyes earnestly. There was something unspoken lingering between you two, a bond formed amidst shared experience.

She needed to understand where you stood, emotionally and, much to her surprise, you smiled slightly and leaned closer to her, taking her hand into yours.

"Not really. If I regret anything, it's that our little tryst didn't happen sooner. It was fun and I feel surprisingly comfortable with what happened between the four of us," you confessed casually, raising your eyebrows playfully. "Maybe even too comfortable," you added and, immediately, Emma grinned widely as she stretched herself comfortably.

"I am so glad because I honestly thought I went too far. I never intended to push you into anything like this, knowing how reluctant you usually are when it comes to intimacy," Emma expressed sincerely, cupping your cheek affectionately. Her honesty touched you deeply, and it struck you that perhaps your friendship hadn't changed irreparably due to all the strange occurrences lately.

"No, I didn't feel pushed into anything, Em. We are all good, alright?" you said reassuringly, giving her a gentle smile. You then continued, "I am curious though, Jamie did not appear to be as dominant as I had expected. Is he usually this timid?" 

 Glancing away for a second, Emma responded hesitatingly, "He can be dominant, but most of the time, he prefers to let me lead..." She trailed off, seemingly unsure whether she should continue discussing this or not. 

Feeling somewhat confused, you pressed further, asking "But why is he so generous then? What is his deal if control is not what he is after?" Your expression grew increasingly perplexed as you tried to piece together your understanding of Jamie's behavior.

 Emma shrugged slightly, choosing her words carefully before answering. "Well, think about it like this - a man like him might get bored easily and there is always a risk, considering that he is somewhat famous. He wants security, but without any feelings or strings attached. He has a high libido that needs to be satisfied. He is really into adventurous sex, but he is not Christian Grey. He does not like to exercise dominance. All he wants is to have fun with someone he can trust," Emma explained. 

Your brow furrowed in thought, processing the idea as you mulled it over.  Then you contemplated, "But when he is done with that, doesn't that mean he may stop supporting you sometime, once he wants something more serious with someone else?" These questions seemed pertinent given the circumstances. But Emma, ever resourceful, had answers prepared.

"It's true, Jamie may not stick around forever. However, I believe it's more beneficial for me than harmful," she asserted firmly. "He gives me everything I need right now, and once I'm ready to leave him behind, I will. Until then, it works perfectly for both of us," Emma defended fervently, a stubborn glint in her eye. It occurred to you then that despite Jamie's apparent lack of commitment, his support provided stability and security for Emma during her financial struggle at university.

Perhaps Jamie saw something in Emma beyond mere sexual attraction; something deeper that kept him interested. Maybe it was trust and security that he was after, just like Emma had suggested. Or maybe, he simply enjoyed being able to provide such benefits to someone in return for the pleasure she gave him.

Regardless, your curiosity was piqued about this kind of arrangement, one based solely upon mutual satisfaction and desires. As you delved deeper into conversation with Emma, your initial confusion gradually dissipated, replaced instead by fascination.

"You know, Cillian might be looking for something similar to what Jamie and I have in place, some form of temporary companionship rather than romantic attachment. He just separated from his wife and with this new movie coming out, he is reluctant to continue his usual behavior," Emma pondered pensively, drawing you into the nuances of these unusual arrangements before suggesting that this may be an option for you.

Her proposal was unexpected but certainly interesting. While you initially dismissed the notion, deep down, a part of you couldn't help but entertain the possibility of exploring such an arrangement yourself, especially after witnessing firsthand the dynamic between Jamie and Emma. This type of setup, founded entirely on fulfilling needs and mutual desire, appealed to you tremendously.

But then again, Cillian was much older than you. He had experience and you could not match this experience. He also had a reputation of being a womanizer and you read about several cheating scandals in the past. He was clearly sleeping around and the last thing you wanted was to be one of many. 

"I don't think so, Em. Cillian is extremely gorgeous, but he is not the kind of guy I should get myself involved with. Besides, he's way older than me," you replied, attempting to dispel the suggestion gently. Emma raised an eyebrow at your comment, acknowledging your reservations about age differences, although her gaze suggested a hint of intrigue.

"You are right. Maybe he isn't for you. He is into some kinky shit too. At least so I've heard," Emma murmured suggestively, flashing a devilish smile that made you raise an eyebrow in response.

You couldn't deny that you had always been curious about experimenting with different aspects of intimacy, pushing boundaries and exploring limits. Was it possible that this was just another opportunity presenting itself to indulge those curiosities?

"What kind of kinky shit are you talking about? I mean, we just had a foursome, and I don't think it can get any kinkier than that," you joked, feigning disinterest. But inside, you knew you weren't telling the truth. You secretly craved more intense thrills, more deviant experiences. Deep down, a small voice whispered seductively, tempting you to consider the possibilities that lay beyond vanilla. Yet, you remained hesitant – partly due to fear, partly due to uncertainty regarding the path laid before you.

"Well, apparently Cillian actually likes some elements of bondage and discipline", Emma divulged nonchalantly, smirking teasingly as she awaited your reaction. "Maybe he should have played Christian Grey instead," she then mused, referencing Fifty Shades of Grey again. 

"How do you even know this stuff?" you asked Emma, clearly caught off guard by this revelation. Emma smiled mysteriously, crossing her legs provocatively as she spoke.

"It came up a few weeks ago when we had this threesome. Jamie mentioned it in passing," Emma giggled softly and your face flushed red instantly, unable to hide your embarrassment or curiosity. Clearly, this topic aroused you greatly, but you did not want to admit this to your friend.

"So, he likes to be the dominant then, I assume? Is that what you call it?" you ventured hesitantly, intrigued yet still apprehensive.

Emma nodded affirmatively, adding with mischievous excitement, "Yes! And trust me, there is no better feeling than knowing exactly what you want and getting it. He was being gentle with you. He was much more dominant when the three of us...you know...never mind...," Emma trailed off but you would not let loose.

"Well, I am not you, obviously.  He was probably cautious, seeing that I was really nervous," you said with blushing cheeks, and Emma went on to explain that, in other aspects of life, Cillian was rather timid.

"He is a nice, caring and somewhat gentle guy, who seems to like rough sex," Emma said with a mix of admiration and amusement, as though recounting a personal experience. Your head spun with thoughts as you processed the information she had revealed. Intrigued by the prospect of engaging in a more liberating, uninhibited form of sexual encounter, you found yourself questioning whether you were truly capable of embracing such a radical shift in your usual approach to sex. You wanted to be more open to your needs, but could you?

"Interesting. Well, I am sure there are many suitable women for this kind of power exchange. But, I am not one of them," you determined in the end, finally voicing your inner concerns.

"Are you sure? Because, I could see how attracted you felt towards him, and you are clearly asking a lot of questions. That alone tells me that this might indeed be worth considering. Everyone starts somewhere Y/N," she encouraged gently, her tone persuasive and compelling.

As she spoke, images of your steamy encounters danced through your mind, leaving you yearning for more intensity and eroticism. How would you react in such a situation?

Would you dare take the leap? Your imagination raced ahead, visualising every detail of such a forbidden scenario vividly. You felt your heart race, pounding loudly within your chest. You looked towards Emma inquiringly, seeking confirmation and guidance. She studied your face closely, reading your thoughts accurately. With a sigh, she acknowledged your internal turmoil, saying quietly, "Of course, only you can decide what is right for you." Emma's calm demeanor served as a reminder that ultimately, the choice rested squarely upon your shoulders.

After all, it wasn't as if you hadn't fantasized about this kind of liaison before. The difference was merely the scale of risk associated with it, compared to the rewards it offered.

The thought sent waves of heat coursing through your body, causing goosebumps to rise along your skin and, yet, you declined the notion to engage in something like this. 

You realized that perhaps you were not quite ready for this change just yet and, with that, you were determined not to take Cillian up on his offer on catching up with him again.

Cillian’s PoV

Meanwhile, after his morning run, Jamie caught up with Cillian at his hotel where, in the neat little coffee shop downstairs, they exchanged some lighthearted banter.

"So, did you have fun with Y/N last night?" Jamie asked casually, sipping his espresso.

"Yes. She is rather cute and we managed to find our rhythm pretty quickly," Cillian responded, equally casual in mannerisms, albeit with a touch of melancholy evident beneath his exterior composure. His fingers traced absentmindedly across the rim of his cup.

Jamie observed Cillian closely, picking up subtle cues which indicated that, perhaps, Cillian wanted to see you again after last night's encounter. 

"Are you going to see her again? You seemed to get on quite well," Jamie probed further, raising a brow quizzically. Cillian considered the question for a moment while thinking about how shy and inexperienced you were.

"We did get on, but she is quite young and inexperienced so it might be a waste of time," Cillian mulled out loud, his gaze far away, likely contemplating memories of the sensuous encounter he shared with you earlier that evening.

Jamie noticed the introspective look on Cillian's face and decided to leave him with his thoughts. After a brief pause, he changed the subject abruptly, hoping to redirect the discussion.

"Hey, speaking of time, let's grab dinner tonight, shall we? It's been ages since we caught up properly, without women being involved," Jamie proposed cheerfully, breaking the heavy silence that hung thickly around them.

Cillian glanced at Jamie briefly, acknowledging the suggestion with a slight nod.

Despite the camaraderie among themselves, both men understood perfectly well why they sought solace in casual affairs and no-strings-attached hookups - it allowed them to temporarily escape the monotony of daily routines. They knew how fleeting pleasures could provide much needed respite amidst hectic schedules.

***

Over dinner, Jamie and Cillian discussed their respective lives, ranging from acting projects to failed romances. Their rapport was effortless, built on honesty and understanding.

Despite the surface conversation about work and women, Jamie picked up on undercurrents of dissatisfaction swirling beneath Cillian’s placid exterior that day.

Cillian was about to divorce his second wife, who was an actress as well but was tired of living in his shadow. He had grown weary of the superficiality that accompanied stardom while she indulged on it whenever she could. As he continued drinking, Jamie noted Cillian's solemn state and wondered what demons haunted him behind closed doors these days. 

He appeared drained – not just physically, but emotionally too. There was an air of vulnerability about him that piqued Jamie's interest even more. It occurred to Jamie that Cillian was essentially similar to himself, searching for true fulfillment amidst an empty world full of deceiving facades. 

Without warning, Cillian began discussing his marriage and its eventual end. As he narrated tales of his failing relationship, his hands moved nervously across the table, giving the impression that his thoughts were almost tangible.

“She’s so… demanding,” he uttered with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Always wanting attention, accolades, and constant validation.”

"And just an hour ago, she sent me a text. She now does not want to go through with the divorce, claiming that 'we need to try harder'. What's left to try?!" exclaimed Cillian bitterly, slumping back into his chair. This latest development added fuel to his frustration, making the already volatile mixture inside him reach boiling point.

There was a palpable sense of despair and exhaustion hanging heavily in the room as Jamie listened intently, offering nothing more than comforting silence. He recognized these feelings well, having grappled with them countless times during his own tumultuous past relationship. Jamie too was divorced, and this is why this arrangement with Emma came as solace to him as he could be himself without judgment from her.

Having been in this situation himself, Jamie could relate to Cillian's predicament because he experienced it firsthand. It took him several months of therapy post his split with his wife, but eventually, he emerged stronger – wiser. Now, his priorities revolved mainly around his career and maintaining a healthy balance between his personal needs and work.

"You need to find a balance man," Jamie thus suggested earnestly, hoping his advice resonates with Cillian.

"And how will I do that?" Cillian questioned, genuine curiosity lacing his words.

"By focusing less on other people and instead turning inward, examining what brings you joy or contentment. You do not need to make everyone else happy. You just need to look after yourself for now. It may sound cliché, but discovering your own needs can sometimes be the most difficult task," Jamie advised earnestly, knowing that self-exploration isn't always easy.

Cillian mulled over Jamie's advice, reflecting deeply on it. He appreciated Jamie's sincerity, but the truth remained that achieving equilibrium required more than just insightful counsel. One must also possess courage to actively pursue personal happiness. Despite feeling exhausted, a spark of hope flickered within him as he grasped onto the potential of redefining his life.

Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, the streets bustled with people hurrying home from work. Neon signs advertised trendy bars, flashing enticing invitations to indulge in late-night escapades. Jamie stood up from the table, signaling the end of their evening, but suggesting a drink at a local bar named "Soho". 

"Let's go and have a few pints before calling it a day," said Jamie gesturing towards the exit.

"Alright, where to?" Cillian enquired, his tone teetering between amusement and weariness.

"Just follow my lead," Jamie replied with a grin, taking charge. Leading the way towards Soho, he guided his mate through crowded streets filled with pubs, restaurants, and colorful storefronts. Everywhere, there was music blaring from clubs and pubs, adding to the vibrant atmosphere. People passed by them in a blur, seemingly lost in their own adventures.

***

With a familiar ease, they entered the dimly lit Soho bar. Dimmed lights cast warm, alluring shadows upon the walls, creating an ambiance perfect for anyone's mood.

Unbeknownst to Cillian, both you and Emma worked at Soho as part-time employees due to your close connections with the bar's owner, Michelle.

Michelle was a woman in her thirties who, just like you and Emma, attended law school during the day. 

Unlike you, however, she was rather wealthy after having inherited a good fortune from her late father, allowing her to own and operate various establishments throughout London. This included "Soho", which was one of her favorite spots. The bar held sentimental value for her, serving as an oasis where she found solitude amidst the bustling city. 

The pair settled into comfortable chairs near the bar counter, surveying the cozy yet lively interior decorated with exposed brick walls, antique mirrors, and tasteful light fixtures casting a soft glow on patrons.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Emma asked Jamie after she had spotted him while, all at the same time, you dropped your utensils when Cillian came into view. For some reason, you had not expected to see him again, but here he was, at your work, having a few drinks with Jamie. 

"No, I couldn't," Jamie teased without showing her genuine affection in public. For what Michelle and the other waitresses knew, Emma was nothing but an acquaintance to Jamie Dornan and, ironically enough, most of them wanted her to introduce them to the famous actor. 

Jamie and Cillian ordered a couple of bottles of beer, taking a seat against the wall. Tired from the evening's events, they sank deep into their seats, watching the crowd move restlessly around them.

Cillian occasionally glanced over towards you, unable to help stealing subtle peeks every once in a while. His gaze then drifted towards the bar, where rows of whiskey glasses gleamed seductively under the low lights.

"Stop starring at her. You are making her nervous, "Jamie joked as he noticed Cillian's frequent glances toward you. 

"I am not starring!" Cillian defensively responded, sipping his beer and averting his eyes.

"You are. But that's okay. After all, you got to fuck her last night. Just calm down and let her work though, alright?" Jamie said, smirking playfully.

Cillian hesitated slightly, trying to suppress his growing desire. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you before realizing that hiding his attraction would only become increasingly challenging as the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing. 

"Look, let's call it a night soon," Cillian finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen upon them. "These drinks are starting to get to us anyway," he pointed out just as Emma knocked off and walked over towards their table with a drink in her hand. 

"True," agreed Jamie, nodding along, though a faint smile played on his lips. "Do you want to come to my place? I am sure Emma would like you to join us again," Jamie invited Cillian with a slight pause. 

"Not tonight. I need to catch up on some sleep before my interviews tomorrow," Cillian declined, his eyes betraying a twinge of reluctance while Emma suggested that, at the very least, he should finish his last bottle of beer.

"Sounds like a plan," Cillian conceded, his focus returning to his half-empty bottle while you, too, finished up your shift and joined the trio.

"Hello strangers! How are we feeling tonight?" you asked casually, placing two extra bottles of beer on the table - much to the delight of Jamie who was not yet ready to leave.

Cillian, on the other hand, was yawning and you too were exhausted from your long shift.

After a while and some more conversation between the four of you, you decided to finally excuse yourself and head back to your flat since it was getting quite late. 

"How are you getting home?" Cillian enquired as you made plans to depart, alone.

"I parked out the back. I don't like taking the tube at night on my own," you answered nonchalantly and, much to your surprise, he seemed relieved.

"That makes sense," acknowledged Cillian as he drained the remainder of his drink. "I will walk you to your car and then head off myself, alright?" he suggested to which you nodded agreeably. 

***

As Cillian accompanied you to your car, the night air felt fresh despite the humid summer heat while his body itself was radiating warmth. There was something incredibly attractive about him which intrigued you and he was aware of your attraction too, evident in the way he looked at you — those intense blue eyes burning brightly even under the streetlights, the curve of his mouth hinting at something far beyond simple friendliness.

Yet, you didn't dare say anything. Instead, you chose to walk alongside him silently, cherishing these fleeting moments together, unsure if they would ever happen again after you had already made up your mind not to call him following last night's encounter. 

As you approached your car, however, everything else came to a standstill.

"So, um..." you stammered. "How are you getting back to your hotel? Do you need a lift?" you offered politely, suddenly finding yourself wishing to prolong your unexpected reunion.

Cillian looked surprised but grateful as he accepted your offer without hesitation. 

"That would be grand, thank you," he expressed, reaching for the door handle to open yours for you before walking towards the passenger side of the car and taking a seat next to you.

Your hands trembled slightly as you tried inserting the key into the ignition slot. This small gesture of kindness brought forth so many mixed feelings.

Embarrassment quickly flooded your face, turning redder than usual. Trying hard to regain composure, you attempted to start the engine of your car but your efforts were futile. The car would not start. 

"God dammit," you cursed, hitting the dashboard lightly with frustration. Cillian simply watched, observing how your cheeks flushed deeper with embarrassment as you struggled with the malfunctioning engine before speaking up.

"Don't worry about it. Let me call roadside assistance. They are usually pretty quick in London," he said with a gentle tone while tears started forming in your eyes from pure exhaustion, relief, and vulnerability. It dawned on you – no matter how much you desired to forget your meeting with him, fate conspired otherwise in the most irritating way possible. 

"No don't. I can't...." you began to say, panicking and desperately hoping that he wouldn't notice how utterly disheveled you truly were beneath your professional exterior. "But thanks. I appreciate it." 

"Y/N, you can't just leave the car here. You will get fined if you do," Cillian stated firmly while watching you lose your mind. "It's alright. It's not a big deal. We will just make the call and they will come out and probably replace the battery. I will wait with you. It's all good," Cillian confidently declared, trying to calm you down but you kept shaking your head.

"I can't afford it. It will cost at least a few hundred pounds," you explained with a defeated voice, looking away as Cillian raised an eyebrow, sensing your less than fortunate situation.

He moved closer, offering a sympathetic grimace. "Don't stress, Y/N. I can pay for it," Cillian assured you gently, reaching for his phone and dialing the emergency number as you continued to argue with yourself mentally, debating whether accepting his generosity might compromise your independence. 

"No, I can't accept this, really. Thank you, though. Seriously," you pleaded; however, your pleading fell on deaf ears as he put on his best persuasion tactics.

"Y/N, please. Let me take care of this. Trust me, you can't leave the car here. You will get fined more than the battery would cost, especially if you get towed overnight," he told you and, with little room left for refusal, you caved in, feeling torn apart inside. Despite wanting to maintain your distance from him, there was still something undeniable about the man. Perhaps it was his raw charm, captivating presence, or his sincerity.

"I will pay you back when I can," you whispered quietly, attempting to hide your shame at accepting such an act of kindness from someone you barely knew.

"There's no need," he replied firmly, holding your gaze intimately, but you insisted. 

"No seriously Cillian. I will pay you back

when I can," you repeated resolutely, determined to hold onto what remained of your dignity. Yet, even through the dim street lamps, you could see the intensity in his eyes, burning right through your resolve. He took your hand gently in his, rubbing comfortingly with his thumb.

"Y/N, stop. It's fine," he whispered softly before, finally, roadside assistance picked up the phone.

After providing the necessary information, Cillian handed it over to you. With his guidance, you navigated through the automated system until a service provider confirmed the arrival time. Relief surfaced across your face.

Cillian smiled, recognizing your gratitude. "Thank you," you breathed deeply, feeling calmed momentarily, allowing yourself to relax against the cold leather seat, your heart racing as you realized how close you now stood to him due to the limited space within the confines of the car.

"Do you want to go back inside while we wait?" you asked, but Cillian shook his head head decisively. "No, let's stay out here. I prefer it outside," he stated firmly, pulling out a cigarette packet from his pocket and lighting one up. His eyes turned glassy as smoke swirled around him, creating an ethereal aura surrounding him. Your eyes followed his every move.

"You know you don't actually have to wait around with me. You can go with Jamie and Emma," you said sheepishly, glancing at Cillian briefly, trying to gauge his reaction. He only chuckled softly, shaking his head playfully, clearly unbothered by your suggestion.

"No, I had enough excitement last night and, to tell you the truth, these things are a lot of work," he admitted candidly, blowing out a cloud of smoke before continuing.

"So, you are saying that threesome are hard work, huh?" you questioned curiously, raising an eyebrow while secretly admiring his frank honesty. He smirked wryly, tossing the cigarette stub away into the darkened street below.

"Yes, don't you think?" Cillian asked before continuing this conversation. "I mean, they are fun, occasionally, but not regularly," he admitted candidly, making eye contact with you once more. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him as he spoke with such openness, his words resonating deep within your core. You found yourself unable to resist probing further.

"So, you prefer one on one encounters then?", you queried curiously, amused yet somewhat confused by his admission. "Well, mostly," he responded candidly, blowing out another puff of smoke. "Though sometimes it depends on who I'm with and the chemistry." Cillian added thoughtfully just as, finally, roadside assistance 

arrived to change your dead battery. Their appearance provided temporary reprieve from the escalating sexual tension between both of you.  

The mechanic worked efficiently on your car, carefully replacing the old battery with a new one. While they completed their task, Cillian and you stood outside and you were getting visibly cold. 

He noticed your shivering and pulled off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders, engulfing you warmly. You felt like a bird trapped in a cage - caught up in the magnetic pull that seemed to exist between you two. Unconsciously, your body shifted slightly closer to his, seeking some form of heat from his frame. But, instead of reacting, he merely stared straight ahead, appearing unfazed by your proximity.

When the mechanics were finally

done fixing your car, you silently wondered why he bothered helping you tonight. Hadn’t it been too much trouble for him? Nonetheless, you refused to express any signs of indebtedness or sentimentality and, after he paid the mechanic's bill, you both jumped into your car.  

Despite the late hour, traffic was relatively smooth and quiet, allowing you to navigate the streets together seamlessly. As you cruised along, the mood became increasingly awkward.

You exchanged polite, neutral conversation which did nothing to alleviate the palpable tension. Despite sharing laughter over trivial matters, you couldn't shake the feeling that the air was charged, electric even. You attributed it to the circumstances under which you met – a combination of intense desire and circumstance, but you also couldn't deny that something else lay hidden beneath it all. Something far more potent than simple attraction.

Unphased by this however, you dropped off Cillian at his hotel. After thanking him profusely again for everything, he said goodbye, kissing you on the forehead tenderly before stepping out of the car and heading back inside.

"It was good to see you again, Y/N. Call me know if you ever want to catch up," he said and, with that, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there for a moment, taking in the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with your own musky pheromones. The memories of your passionate encounter played vividly in your mind, consuming you completely. Your fingers traced light patterns upon your skin where his hands had held you so tightly. Unable to escape the power he held over you, you drove back home, haunted by his touch, knowing deep down inside that you should not be getting involved with this man. It was something you should not pursue and, with that, you remained resolute to avoid him from that point forward. 

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[beom-s-author]

TXT REACTIONS-Hyung line

+ When they call you clingy

Choi Soobin:

Everything was so strange. You had a ton of homework to deal with. You were trying to stay busy with your own life, but you noticed that your boyfriend Soobin was very exhausted when he came back. His under eyes were sunken. You decided to put your work aside and take care of him, but the stress and fatigue had completely exhausted him. He was too unhappy to notice your effort. When he came home, his favorite meal was ready. You covered your living room with blankets, just like you did most nights with him, and turned on a ridiculous love drama from the 80s from the movie. Everything was so classic but you thought this would bring him back to his senses. But you were wrong...

When he comes back to house again, he was unhappy again. He seems exhausted like he always in comeback terms. But you decided to not give up from him. He always did when you are at your worst down. So you gave him an understanding smile. But he didn't respond back like he always did. He didn't hug you or smile back. And this was the last straw.

"What's wrong? You didn't talk with me this week." You asked to him. You were waiting for a respond.

"Can you be a bit welfare? You are so clingy." And yes,he said it. Trying for something is being clingy? And you asked yourself this abput 3 times before shutting the door behind you. You just heard his whisper as 'shit'.

Choi Yeonjun:

You didn't realize how time passed. You were working a pat-time job after school and taking care of your sister's daughter on the weekends. With all this work going on, you didn't realize how much pressure your boyfriend was under. He was coming home and you were sitting across from each other. That day was both yours and his free day. The documentary on the screen that you have been looking at for an hour has finally finished. When you raised your head and looked at him, you realized that he was already staring into space. Then a strange conversation took place.

"Babe..You are looking tired.."

"Yeah..whatever.." he was cold as ice. You gulped. He was never like that.

"Is there any problem? I don't like unhappy Jun."

"Why are you caring this now? You were like a ghost this week and now you are asking this? You have to be clingy,right?" As his words hit, you can feel your eyes are getting teary. Your pupils get wise and you gulped. Your eyelashes are threatining you to drop the tears. But you wiped them immedietaly and go out. He was watching you from distance.

Choi Beomgyu:

Everything was a big mess. You were all over him and asking for his problem. Because he was too distant and cold this times. You were trying to reach him but he was hiding in a big ice cub like he always did. You always broke this ice cub but now it was impossible. He was staring at the void and holding a pen in his hands. He was trying to compose TXT's new song and now he was too depressed with that. You went near of him and grabbed his pen.

"Why are you so desperate to write this? You can do this later honey. Just take a quick break."

"You can't understand me. I am doing a job which is important not like you. You are sitting at your clinic and listening people's words. This is boring and unnecessary." He crossed the line this time. Your job was your dream job. And now he was daubing it now. You looked angry.

"I am also doing a job which is important. And why don't you respect towards to me? I guess we are sensitive about this topic."

"Yes we are. My job is requiring space and relax behaviours not clingy and weird actions as a psychopath has." He crossed the line again and now you weren't tolerating now.

"I am apprehensive about you! You are not talking, eating, even sleeping. How can I be relax about it?" You replied back.

"Do you know what? If you are complainant like this why don't you leave?"

You gulped with his words. You were now sad more than being furious. You go to your room and grab your coat with your purse and phone. You shut the door. He watched you with empty eyes. He couldn't recognize how he hurt you.

[fudanshidoublevision]

“Nostalgia”.

(A Double Vision x Reader fanfiction for Children's Day.)

⚠️ C. W: Mentions of unhealthy and abusive relationships, abusive households, neglect, implied (but not toooooooo described) bullying and harassment, depressive thoughts, LOTS of reminiscing and reflection, death, dubious living conditions. It's implied Reader has only a PRESENT mother and a family. With who Reader ended up with is left ambiguous on purpose and up to you but I'm letting you have the “sweet good ending” with whoever you end up with. Swearing but not too heavy. Talks about suicide. Emotional dependency and such. If Reader posses an ability isn't discussed or even implied.

It's odd how so much can change in what seems...nothing, out of nowhere. The fact that so many time has passed is scary. Some things in our lives had changed, evolved, stayed the same or just died.

I never thought that I would become an adult, I never had so much expectations in life, honestly.

I never thought I would make this far.

Even if I was only rotting in one place and doing nothing, something my mother said that it couldn't be even considered “living”. I was just trying not to do something I could regret forever instead of digging up too much in my thoughts, I just laid there not thinking or even feeling anything.

I think she never realized that I wasn't living, that we weren't living rather that i— we, were surviving.

But for some reason you always stayed.

Even when I stopped acting like myself. Even when everyone I used to care for just, disappeared from my life because I wasn't putting an effort into taking care of our relationship. Even when I became the worst version of myself. Even when I didn't deserved anything or anyone in my life.

You always stayed, Vernon.

You were my ride or die since the fateful day that I saved you.

Well, I didn't do much really, I didn't really saved you, I just prevented something that any other living being with morals would want to avoid to happen, right? I was going through your same situation after all... Hah, we both had to endure all of that until we finished school together. I know so well how it feels to be hopeless, everyone ignoring what they are doing to you, everyone watching, yet no one doing something about it.

I always thought that you would never had ever wished or even desired to make others feel like that. But, for some reason, you ended up being just like them.

I believe that I'll never understand why you changed so much or if you were always like that, I was aware of your strange behavior and dependency on me but I never thought much of it because that's how you always behaved around me. Heh, I ignored every single red flag and warning that was thrown in my face just for the sake to hold onto you, because you were someone dear to me, someone that always had been there for me.

You were the highlight of my childhood and my teenage years, even if we kinda drifted away in the latest. You were even there when I was the grown, sad and miserable version of the kid you used to know.

Is it bad that i still hold dearly and warmly those moments we had as kids? Like the days were everything in my household...just was horrible and I didn't know where or to who run to, somehow I always ended up in your house, you always opened the door to me, no matter what or why.

Your own home seemed so cold from the outside and on the inside but...when we were together, everything just felt warmer.

...Or the times were you used your abilities to save our asses or just to escape to somewhere, anywhere, when I was locked down in my own room and you were so lonely and bored in your cold and empty house.

Go to anywhere we wanted, as long as no one of our parents got to know that we were running around the streets like not-so-sneaky rats. Hell, even your very-dangerous use of your ability saved us from being late to class. We could have done better things with it but we were young and really, really stupid.

When I used to ride my bicycle, you had to steal my seat and I had uncomfortably sit on the center bar but quickly forgot about that because anything with you just felt right, your presence used to make me so happy and I tended to forget everything, we used to have so much fun with such mundane and stupid things. When we used to drive that crappy bicycle to a concerning speed just to feel like we were flying like those heroes we used to adore and we used to imagine we were.

The times me and my family celebrated your birthday because you were like another member in my family. You were like a brother to me.

Or the times you bought me any silly or meaningless thing that I wanted to me for my birthday because you knew how much that day it used to meant to me. And how much you it meant to me your presence...and your gifts, hehe.

Nostalgia is a powerful drug.

In times like these, i look fondly at the times that you were there by and with me, even when I was talked down, thrown, dragged and abused to my core when we were “living the best and important part of our lives”.

Even if you were being neglected by the ones who were supposed to be protecting us and left alone by your own devices, money being thrown at you like that could compensate the hole they left behind.

We could only hold each other in silence because talking about it brought so much pain to our little hearts and heads.

I'm glad the two of us made it out, together. I will always be grateful of that but nothing good seemed to last in our lives since we started to became more mature.

You changed or more like, you just became the true version of yourself.

Maybe it's an exaggeration but whoever was talking to me with your voice, while using your clothes, saying things only you could only ever knew... That wasn't you, i refused to believe that was you.

Someone else stripped you down from your humanity. Of what made you, you.

But, no. That was you, with the same stupid face, the same idiotic and cocky attitude of always, your signature dimples and that mole in your face but you insisted, no, forced me to call you “Double Vision”.

For some reason, that silly and simple nickname i used to call you by stopped to came out of my mouth.

“V”.

Vernon.

Now, you were only Double Vision and nothing else, the person I used to know, gone and forgotten to do things I never thought you could be capable of doing. Not like I was innocent or had a squeaky clean historial, we were partners in crime, after all.

I was scared and just wanted to, stop. You were more erratic, territorial, temperamental when it was about me. You didn't wanted me to engage with anyone, even if it seemed that you trusted the other members of the Night Crew.

You didn't, you never did.

When we argued in front of everyone because you wouldn't let me go, that day someone died, because of me, because of my fault.

Seeing you taking the life out of someone that just wanted to be on my side, for you to let me go and being unable of doing something because I...just didn't know what to do, I was scared.

I had to force myself to accept the so-harsh truth.

The person I used to know.

You.

Was long gone and he will never come back.

Or just the the version I used to know, I'm not sure if you were genuine with anything about yourself with me, since we were kids.

Was it everything a lie? Were you just holding back until the day I was completely alone and with no one or nothing but you to drag me down with you, no matter what or who tried to get in between?

Even if you did all of this out of the selfish desire of having me all by yourself, some part of me can't quite forget you or stop thinking about you.

Since the day I could escape from you and stay with someone who felt...love for me, I began to forget little by little of you but for some reason, a part of my me doesn't want to forget you.

It hurts me deeply, to think of you. I feel a heavy pressure in my chest and my heart, when I remember you. That you exist and that you used to mean so much to me.

Things could have gone better, right? Is it wrong for me to think that things could have been different, if something, anything, was slightly different when you weren't trying to cut an arm, a finger or take one of my eyes just to have me by your side?

I wish I could only save and stay with the happy memories we made together but the person in those memories doesn't look like you at all, that's not you.

I miss you my dear bestfriend, sometimes.

But I wish we never had met each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜

AUTHOR'S NOTE???

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO PUT AN AUTHOR'S NOTE......? Doesn't matter, right?

Thank you so much for reading! And happy children's day! Even if you don't celebrate it today or don't, at all. I hope you enjoyed it! Any type of criticism is welcome...but, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, don't be so hard on me, okay? Be gentle, please.（┬┬＿┬┬)

English isn't my native language and I mostly write only for myself all these years and never shared my writing but I'm trying to learn and get better everyday! Don't think so lowly of me. ᶘಠᴥಠᶅ

I kind of wanted to write something fifty percent wholesome and fifty percent angsty. So, I just had this monster in my head nagging me to write something about childhood, memories and the horror of growing up. And, woah! What a day to post this. Plus, ABOUT DOUBLE???? SIGN ME UP, BELOVED MONSTER IN MY HEAD!

I used my own headcanons to write this thing, that's why Reader calls “V”, referenced to my first post ever. I double (HEHE), triple, quadruple checked if this had any mistakes, so wake me up if there's a mistake I missed, thank you very much.

I have 13 drafts about Double that will stay in that cold and deadly place.....

Anyways, I stayed up all night writing this because of that horrifying monster... I NEED to go to sleep.

Double haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa????? I love you!!!!! ♡ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

[yanderesimp2000]

Yan Adam x Fem reader Chap 3/5 someone else DARES TO FLIRT ON YOU !MINORS STAY AWAY

CHAP 1 https://www.tumblr.com/yanderesimp2000/745338401920860160/extreme-yandere-adam-x-fem-reader-chap-15-start?source=share

CHAP 2 https://www.tumblr.com/yanderesimp2000/745426251094818816/extreme-yandere-adam-x-fem-listener-chap-25?source=share

Tags, Cuddles, kisses,protective, 9 feet size diff , wing snuggles, daiquiri?!, RIBS?!!,horny listener

TWS, Manipulation, Violence (not on you), someone trys to SA you (NOT ADAM), Alcohol, Yanderery, Adam being a incel and misogynist, blow job, and brainwashed reader

btw this takes place in a universe where Adam won the Battle of Hazbin hotel and killed all the main hazbin hotel cast also PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS

my english might be bad I'm from Armenia

BTW RUSSIAN AND ARMENIAN TRANSLATIONS COMING SOON

it been about 3 days since your little "illness" stopped affecting you Adams gonna back to work making your lonely he's only here at night so he cant give you the attention you desperately crave "like a little fly to soda" Adam described your attention craving

His mansion he keeps you locked up in is cool to live in it had 5 floors and everything you could want like,pools a huge kitchen and dinner room, multiple living rooms a indoor theater but it's never engough your just counting down the days Adam dosnet have to do first man stuff for 7 whole days strait and you will get all the attention and love you want

as you sat on your bed watching Tv some reality TV show you here someone unlock the front door "what upppp Baby" It was Adam you rushed over to the door and he gave you a hug "ughhhhhhh today was soooo boring sera was being a bitch again something about You cant banish random people to hell because you dislike them like bitch? im fucking Adam I can do whatever I want I'm god first creation and his favorite so you can go eat shit" the way Adam described sera just made you hate her all you could think was is "how could she disrespect him does she know who he is you should be lucky to be in his presence" but you just said "yeah I know seras a bitch I know I know" Adam was happy to hear that at said "well atleast someone understands even lute is on Sera side"

adam groaned before Slumping down and laying down on the couch before saying " hey babe do we still have so raw ribs in the fridge" he said You then said "I'll check" before opening the fridge to see the rack of ribs he brought home one day you then said "yeah do you want me to make them" you said in your soft caring voice adam LED mask lit up and he said " YES YES YES FUCKIN MAKE THEM" Like a ecstatic puppy when you bring out his food

you then start to cook them Adam always thought that It was your job as a women to do the house work and cook and clean for him and you agreed since for some strange reason you could not remember what you life was like before he Married you so you just blindly agreed to everything he said once you were done seasoning the ribs you put them on the slow cooker for 2 hours before laying down on the couch with him like you always do

he started to snuggle you before telling you the same story's he always tell you "did I tell you about that one time this bitch girl that was Lucifer daughter came over and took me to court over the extermination it was sooooooo annoying then we killed them all and it was fuckin great" he said proud of himself "yes babe youve told me" you said Slightly annoyed

Adam then said "ugh this couch is too small were gonna go to the bed" he then picked you up with one hand like he always does and just carried you over the the bed and placed you on it before also laying down on the bed " your my little teddy bear y'know that small helpless... weak you have to rely on me for shelter safety and protection and that's Just the way I like it" he softly and gently cooed "and the world is dangerous their would be sooo many creeps that would try to take advantage of you and take you away from me so you should never try to leave its too dangerous" he said gently but very firm and something about it your mind just agreed with him " he was right you should stay with him" was all your little brain could think as you nuzzled into him

when you nuzzled into him he was surprised but loved it "ohh someones a little love bug today" he teased before starting to kiss you on your forehead his wings starting to wrap around you two creating a soft little fort as you two were snuggling you noticed some knots and dirt on Adams wings which just bothered you so much you started to clean and prune them this surprised Adam but he just giggled a little "sorry my wings are a little dirty but its always nice to know someone can take care of them for me" you walked out of the bed and grabbed the brush to brush his wings like the good little wife you were he giggled and cooed over this you just dropped everything to clean his wings as you were doing that he felt your wings " if only I could take care of myself like you do I'm a fucking mess" a complained "your wings are so sleek and soft they always look like its your first day in heaven and mine are dirty and rugged" he groaned "but hey I have you and your such a good wife you just clean them for me" he laughed

when you were done cleaning his wings he praised you like you were a toddler "wow I look so pretty, what ever would I do without you, Their so sleek and shiny just like yours,how could you do all of this so quickly" this coddling was interrupted by the buzzing of the oven that had the ribs in them " fuck yeah' he yelled before jumping out of bed and running towards the kitchen as you followed behind him to take them out when you took them out Adam just grabbed one of the burning hot ribs and shoved them in his mouth you looked at him shocked but he said " fucking delicious thanks babe" you heard the ribs FUCKING SIZZLE WHEN HE PICKED THEM UP

Besides that concerning discovery the dinner was pretty good he talked to you and seemed to enjoy the ribs a lot making your heart happy he then groaned "welp that was nice time for bed" you weren't tired and said "w-wait" but I was to late he picked you up and walked to the bed and threw you guys down on it " I said it was time for bed" Adam growled ignoring your protests as he feels asleep you were forced to sit their smushed in-between his arm and his chest For another 3 hours before you finally fell asleep against him

3 days later

it was finally the day were Adam got 7 whole days off no doing angel stuff he promised you guys would go do something and now you were he was dressing you up looking thur dresses while he was in his classic robe attire you guys were going to his favorite club for a date and you were so excited 1 because it was your first time out of his mansion in 2 months and 2 he was actually taking you on a date

adam then showed you a nice baby blue dress that fir very tightly on you he then said "yes yes that's the one so everyone will know how fucking smoking hot you are and THEY CANT HAVE YOU because your alllllllllllllllllll mine" the dress was very tight but you said it was okay because he said it looked cute on you so it had to

He then said "okay were both ready so lets go" you two walked out the door and heaven was just a pretty as it always was the huge building all the gold and marble and just everything as you two walking you heard people mumbling "how did Adam pull that girl" "must of bribed her or something" "wow shes hot shit" but you didn't humor them ignoring them and just focusing on Adam as you two walked to the club which he always talked about so you knew it was gonna be a lovely experience

as you two rounded the corner he said "prepare to be blown out of your fucking mind" then you saw it big flashy signs and a bouncer that said "come in sir" when he saw you and adam" when you two walked in you were seated in one of the best seats in the club were he ordered himself a large daiquiri and you a small red wine you guys drank and talked and listened to music as he blabbered his head off about story's that he told you a billion times but you didn't mind at all and you were with him it was all fine

Adam started to get a little drunk and started to get even more touchy and affectionate then he already was "nice t-t-tits bitch" he said words slurred "T-thank you" you said felling flattered but a little insulted at being called a bitch " can I have my rib back" Adam said before erupting in laughter "its okay even though you came from my r-rib your m-much fuckin hotter then in" he teased again before saying "when we get home I'm gonna fuck ya hard yeahhh gonna knock ya up give ya babys make ya all round gonna baby trap ya then you could Neva leave me" he said words slurred you were slightly annoyed by this and said "Adam having babys would be wonderful but I would never leave you, you know that right?" you said trying to reassure him "yeah yeah I fucking know I was just fucking around bitch" Adam said laughing a little before saying " I gotta fuckin piss I'll be right back" before standing up and leaving

you sat their fiddling with you thumbs waiting for adam to return when an angel came up to you he was unattractive in your standards so you didn't bat an eye that was until he said "hey baby you could do sooooo much better then him you know that" you tried to ignore him but he persisted "he treats you like trash right yeahhh I bet he does I would treat you like the queen you are" you get angry and said "fuck off I'm not going out with you or leaving him" the angel looks offended but then says well then I'll just give it a little sample then before punching you to the ground holding you down before trying to touch you private area he didn't even seem to notice Adam walking over to the stall

2 seconds later he was ripped of you and adam had never looked so angry before "YOU DARE TOUCH MY WIFE IN MY CLUB EVEN AFTER SHE SAID NO" he said in-between punches "Scum like you have no place in heaven" he said before snapping his fingers opening a portal to hell "wait no no no no no no please I'm sorry please nooooooooooo" he said before being sucked in before the portal closed Adam was panting looking like a rapid animal everyone in the club was looking at him " lets go babe" he said before grabbing your hand and flying out of the club back home

When you got home Adam said "fucking scum trying to hit on you I'm sorry you had to see that but he deserved it" he said still fuming "it's okay Adam" you said gently trying to calm him down but God he was so hot when he was angry it just brought out his dominate side which you found so hot he then walked over to the couch and sat down to watch his favorite show

this was your chance you thought he always was the one to ask to fornicate so it was your turn but you were to nervous to directly ask him from Adams perspective he was just sitting on the couch watching his favorite TV show when all of a sudden he felt something you... you were sitting on the floor in-between his legs rubbing your face against his soft bulge looking up at his longingly he was surprised and that well you were asking to fuck he giggled and said "that's one way to ask if you can suck my dick" before taking his underwear revealing his 35 cm dick complete erect he then teased "hope ya don't choke" before grabbed you by the hair and putting your mouth against his dick you gladly opened it and started to suck on it purring and playing with the soft tip arousing Adam even more 'good good girl" he said "I hope ya dont chock on it although that would be cute" he said in a low purr you were to preoccupied to listen and you just kept sucking him off rubbing your tongue against the veins bulging through and the gentle tip tickling him he then said "going all the way in" then shoving his whole dick down your throat you were surprised you did not gag maybe heaven does not have a gag reflex you thought while sucking it "that's it baby this is your dessert after all those drinks" he said as the bead of precum went down your throat it was so nice to have all his love and affection and to pleasure him it was just an addicting feeling Adam then blurted out " are you ready for you dessert " before pulling his dick partially out before cumming all onto your tongue letting you taste it "don't you dare spit it out" Adam said firmly as more ropes of cum went into your mouth. by the end your mouth was filled with his sticky salty cum you started to gulp it down as he cleaned himself up he laughed and said "Ya like your dessert because your gonna eat that EVERY DAY" before saying "its getting late lets go to bed

BONUS BC I LOVE YOU

as he was sleeping your played with his bulge it was soft and warm kinda like a pillow he was enjoying it as he blurted out "ugh yess" once and awhile it was just the perfect pillow you finally rested on his bulge using it like a pillow and fell asleep

[iztarshi]

I think Phantom Tales of the Night has the most varied monsters I've seen in a manga. Not physically, but in the way they think, so that even the monsters themselves can struggle to understand one another.

Spoilers ahead, because figuring out how these monsters think and what they're doing and even which people are monsters is a lot of the manga's mystery.

You've got Butterfly, very young by monster standards and with his youth extended by his recurrent amnesia, who is born from a collection of lost human souls although he's not human himself. Even the older monsters trying to parent him don't really know what he is or what he should be so their attempts to guide him into "growing up" can hinder him as much as help.

Bone Monk is blunt and practical. He only wants to gather the bones of the dead and make them into pottery, which might seem morbid but seems genuinely to be born of compassion. As Owner puts it he gathers up the broken and discarded.

Spider used to be human and although he thinks differently after hundreds of years he's still human at base.

The Foxes are malicious and careless, gambling for humans in order to steal their skins and lives only to discard them when they get bored. But we also meet a Tanuki who takes the skin of a dead human out of compassion in order to raise her daughter instead of leaving the child an orphan, so Beasts are not always like that.

Sasaki, as a being who can regenerate from a single bone again and again into a half-skeletal man, is probably a true-born monster and was never human at all. But he thinks exactly like a human, and a compassionate and level-headed human at that, which leads to him trying to spend lifetimes among humans. He understands humans the way they'd understand each other, but always feels he's hiding a terrible secret.

Owner, as a formless creature of darkness, is revealed to have probably had good intentions in the end but his approach to problem solving is so alien that that "probably" remains. He only gave himself a face and identity so Sasaki (after one offer to be friends with him made as a tiny bone) would be able to find him again and it remains his nature to be ambiguous. The blurred line between monstrous curiosity, wanting to learn how humans act in circumstances he sets up including cruel ones, and strange ways of helping, which often include letting humans blame him if it would be easier than blaming other humans or themselves, always lingers.