#and no I'm not blaming a baby for his own death

[megamindsecretlair]

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband. 

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper. 

“Hey babe,” you said. 

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat. 

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would. 

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride. 

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?  

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you. 

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain. 

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy. 

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said. 

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said. 

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further. 

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way. 

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married. 

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors. 

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him. 

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet. 

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth. 

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around. 

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing. 

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said. 

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said. 

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms. 

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension. 

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax. 

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked. 

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7. 

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind. 

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air. 

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right. 

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face. 

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself. 

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip. 

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare. 

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room. 

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties. 

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink. 

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle. 

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness. 

“T-Terry,” you sighed. 

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable. 

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it. 

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs. 

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions. 

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface. 

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear. 

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him. 

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss. 

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours. 

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough. 

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base. 

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in. 

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it. 

“You feelin’ me?” He asked. 

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you. 

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked. 

“Terry,” you sniffled. 

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family. 

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised. 

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being. 

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted. 

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said. 

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling. 

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper. 

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek. 

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will. 

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls. 

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you. 

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him. 

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action. 

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said. 

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you. 

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body. 

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations. 

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands. 

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect. 

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time. 

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them. 

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. 

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased. 

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence. 

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded. 

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said. 

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him. 

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face. 

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out. 

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily. 

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper. 

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed. 

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force. 

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly. 

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him. 

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love. 

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[transformers-spike]

Do you ever think one of the decepticons or autobots every harmed themselves? And how would it work??

Idk

I'm project

☣️ anon

Oh boy - I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about this.

I feel as though self-harm comes in a wide variety of ways. Here, I'll focus on TFP for this.

Optimus doesn't harm himself directly, but it's clear he's extremely willing to sacrifice his life for the good of others - ie: come on just take a look at the season 1 finale. He's got a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and while I believe the presence of the Primes inside the Matrix of Leadership may help him cope, he could be feeling a lot better.

Arcee obviously has a similar problem. Look at her obsession with taking down Airachnid. Losing two partners has crushed her, and while she's still going, she's very willing to risk herself if it comes to enacting revenge. Not to mention some clear signs of PTSD. While I have mixed feelings on associating human mental illnesses with bots (since I assume they have their own thing going on), she definitely has an equivalent.

Ratchet is constantly neglecting himself for the sake of his team. He doesn't refuel enough, he's overworked and he doesn't consider himself valuable enough despite being their backbone. Syn-En is just an example of a risk he's willing to take if it means helping his team. Let's not even address how he keeps blaming himself for things he couldn't fix (ie: Bumblebee's voicebox)

Wheeljack has lost so many of his fellow Wreckers he's willing to endanger himself on the regular. And he nearly died trying to avenge Bulkhead, so it's clear he was already steeling himself for his friend's possible death. Out of all of the bots, it's clear he's high up there when it comes to trauma.

Megatron is... out of his mind to say the least. He's incredibly contradictory as a person, and I believe a lot of it is influenced by his trauma as a miner then as a gladiator (especially risking his life in the Pits of Kaon). He's endangering himself on a regular basis (HE SHOVED DARK ENERGON IN HIS SPARK CHAMBER HE IS SO NOT OKAY) and I wouldn't be surprised if he got a kick from pain to a degree. Less in the masochism sense more in the "Bro, you are bleeding out, you need to go to a hospital asap" Starscream keeps going back to Megatron despite all the shit that happened to him, so I believe he's dependent to a degree (looking at you season 3) - and Megatron's constant belittling is doing wonders for his mental health Dreadwing is full of issues. @karinadele suggested he may have some kind of Avoidant personality disorder, which would make sense. He is not coping well with his brother's death and he keeps pushing himself to his limits and ignoring the clear grief he's feeling. His eventual death is to a degree the result of his unwillingness to let others in. Yes, he has his issues with the Autobots - but he could have also separated himself from both factions instead of, you know, getting himself killed. Breakdown to me has a load of issues and is the closest to presenting actual acts of self-harm (although minor). He is dependent to a degree, keeps himself in the background unless Bulkhead is involved, and of course; he feels the need to prove himself to others (baby girl, you're dealing with self-worth issues). While I believe his partnership with Knock Out definitely grounds him, sometimes KO's bossiness and laissez-faire attitude gets to him. Come on, Breakdown's been mutilated by humans and lost an optic as a result. Plus, I'm pretty sure shutting down his "pain receptors" might have caused more damage in the long run. I can see him developing nervous ticks, like picking at wounds or even scraping/peeling off small pieces of mesh. It's a coping mechanism. A bad one yeah. But it helps. He keeps lying about it to KO but the medic's onto him. Sadly, he isn't great at comforting Breakdown. KO wants him to stop but it's difficult for him to be emotionally available.

[theliterarywolf]

What is the one decision made in a video game's narrative that, no matter how many times you see it/remember it, you immediately go 'You STUPID motherfucker, why are you like this?!?!?'

For me, it's Gregory's death in What Remains of Edith Finch.

[churipu]

YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?

being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.

the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.

gojo gets very pissy about it.

frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.

and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.

you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.

gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.

the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.

he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.

GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.

after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.

geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.

he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.

although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.

geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.

he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.

with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.

getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.

he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.

but you were there to prove him wrong.

after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?

you. apparently.

he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.

and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.

letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.

with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.

toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[thewisecheerio]

Messmer's actually terrible at his job. (affectionate)

Messmer is a fascinating villain, because he is strangely compassionate. I would go so far as to argue that this same compassion that is so at odds with his villainy is the very thing that drove him to become that villain in the first place. Hang with me; this is a long post.

Spoilers for Elden Ring DLC. Obviously.

Messmer tells us himself that his purpose is to purge all those stripped of the grace of gold. "Yet...my purpose standeth unchanged. Those stripped of grace of gold shall all meet death...in the embrace of Messmer's flame." We can piece together who gave him this genocidal purpose from his armor set's description, which tells us directly that he's working on his mother's behalf *and also* taking all the blame for it.

So he's playing war criminal on Marika's behalf. And I do mean playing. I'm not downplaying the fact that he is a war criminal; he has murdered on entire people. But here's the thing: he's *terrible* at playing the sole part of the spiteful, hateful overlord. He's *awful* at reveling in war and its victories.

Why? Empathy.

Messmer is strangely empathic for what could have otherwise been a cut-and-dry villain:

1. His relationship with Gaius, an Albinauric: We learn from Gaius's Remembrance that he was Messmer's bestie. We also know that Gaius was an Albinauric both from his armor as well as the location "Albinauric's Hut" in the direction he comes from at the beginning of his fight. Albinaurics are despised by the Golden Order, but Messmer didn't seem to care. In fact, he cared so little that he gave Gaius command of either a huge chunk or perhaps his entire army, second only to him. And what is given as the basis of this friendship? The fact that they were "both cursed from birth", i.e. a mutual understanding of what it is to be despised. They're trauma bonded because they have empathy for each other's predicament.

2. His relationship with the Jar people: Even though the Jar people were used as weapons of war against his own people, he doesn't seem to resent them. How do we know? There is a hospital where the Jars and their innards are being cared for in the Storehouse, a stone's throw away from where Messmer spends all his time. There are even a few baby Jars running around in it. Strange thing to do to what is essentially an enemy of your people, unless you consider them to also be victims of the same conflict.

3. His relationship with his soldiers: Messmer shares his own flame with his army. Yeah, that absolutely could be interpreted as a utilitarian move for the sake of war. Power up the troops, boost your chance at victory. But it's a strange choice when he could have just armed them in the traditional way of handing them sharp, pointy objects and pointing in the desired direction of stabbing. Instead, arming your soldiers with your own power could also be interpreted as something you do when you care about their survival and are potentially working directly with them to ensure it.

4. The mourning of people who betray him: Speaking of his soldiers, Messmer gets betrayed by at least a few of them. We learn this from the ashes of Andreas and Huw. Huw's ashes further tell us that Messmer *mourned their loss* as brothers-in-arms. Weird thing to do to someone who has betrayed you, unless you care very deeply about them to begin with.

5. The implications of the Storehouse: Even though he is actively genociding Hornsent on Marika's orders, he somehow has preserved an entire library of their history. At first, I thought this was maybe just British Museum vibes: steal all the artifacts and refuse to give them back. (And that could still be a correct interpretation.) But in context of the rest of these points, if you're truly hellbent on erasing a culture, why would you bother to preserve any of it? Would you not burn the libraries along with the people? It's a fairly common thing to do in our world's wars--destroy the art and history to ensure full erasure. And yet, it seems he can't even bring himself to avoid some small amount of sympathy for the people he was explicitly tasked with killing. If you really *think* about the basis for his sympathy for Marika, this does make a lot of sense. Messmer is following Marika's orders because he knows about what the Hornsent did to the Shaman. Wouldn't it then also be the case that once Marika's reign became nothing but genocide, i.e. an exact reversal of what was done to her people, he would have the same kind of sympathy for them? Perhaps this is a form of harm reduction in the only way he could square with what he thinks is his purpose.

6. His own self-hatred: Messmer despises his own flames, which we learn from the Messmer's Orb description. If you were happy to be Doing a Genocide, would you not celebrate your weapons of war? Wouldn't you take pride in them as tools of power? Unless, of course, you're not actually as happy as we think and maybe having regrets and come to be filled with severe self-hatred. Woops.

So then, if Messmer is this guy running around with a lot of Big Feelings (and probably a deep need for a Prozac prescription), why does he even agree to this genocide in the first place? Isn't that an *odd* choice for someone who seems to care pretty deeply about people, even people despised by his family's governing order? Why does he carry out these orders even to the point of developing a deep self-hatred?

This is where Messmer's sympathy, one of his best aspects, also becomes his fatal flaw.

I mentioned above in 5 that Messmer has access to information about both sides of this conflict. As much as he might have sympathy for everyone around him--including weapons used against the Shaman like the Jars--that means he *also* has sympathy for the Shaman. So if you have sympathy for the other side and sympathy for your side, and you are raised by your own side, then what is the natural outcome? Your side wins. If you must choose a side, then you fight on behalf of Child Soldier Fostering Mother Marika. She raised you, after all. It's inevitable.

In the end, that same sympathy he seems to extend to others also is what causes him to do war crimes. Out of an abundance of sympathy for what happened to the Shamans, he agrees to take up arms.

At the end of the day, he's still a villain that needs to be stopped so that he'll stop oppressing an entire people on behalf of his mother's misguided attempts at revenge. But making his reasoning to agree to become that villain in the first place *empathy* of all things? Fascinating.

[melminli]

Could you store something with jun-hee (player 222) x f!reader plz🙏

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

summary - it may sound a bit cliché, but you were in love with your best friend. even though you always wanted to tell her, you strongly doubted that she could use your love - you didn't know that she thought the same. you two were really stupid, huh?

pairing: kim jun-hee x fem. reader

word count: 1.1k

contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, arguing, fluff, pre squid game au, hidden feelings

a/n: i went to a cas concert a few months ago and it was insane. this was the song that just stuck with me since then and i thought about her when i listened to it again after watching the show! hope u like it ;p

"Oh man, they forgot our spring rolls." you realized disappointed after you went through each package of food one by one until there was nothing left but napkins in the bag. You looked at your best friend as you said. "Should I go to the store and get them? I know how much you like them, and I think the owner likes me, who knows, maybe we'll get an extra portion or something, huh?"

Jun-hee just shook her head with a gentle smile on her face. "That's all right. I want to eat with you and by the time you come back, the food will be all cold and mushy." she said, reaching for the chopsticks after opening her box of fried noodles.

You sat down on the opposite chair of your little dining table in your small kitchen. "I guess, I can't argue with that." you gave in and reached for a spoon to mix your fried rice a little.

You had turned on the radio a while ago and the music it was playing accompanied the pleasant silence between the two of you. You could hardly stop yourself from thinking about how homely this all felt right now with her, as you often did in the last few days. It was sudden and you were definitely caught off guard when Jun-hee suddenly appeared at your doorstep with a packed bag in tow. You didn't know exactly what happened, but you didn't need to because you could imagine that it probably had something to do with her parents or something - it didn't matter. She would tell you when she was ready.

"I heard that this one popular show is getting a second season soon, you know..." you started to tell her and then tried to think of the title when you suddenly heard a soft howl. You immediately stood up when you saw Jun-hee sitting huddled up with her arms covering her face. "Hey, what's wrong..." you asked worriedly, not used to such an emotional reaction from her since she was usually such a collected person. This was a very rare occurrence.

She interrupted you before you could say anything else. "I'm pregnant!" she cried out, feeling the lingering guilt inside her finally take over her entire mind as she uttered those words. A few minutes passed with you just holding her like that and Jun-hee clung tightly to you, sobbing. She was worried that you might let her go - in fact, she expected you to, which is why she didn't tell you for so long.

I can't blame her for anything, I really am the worst. She thought to herself when she still couldn't bring herself to let go. No matter how selfish it might be of her.

"Is it from that Mingyu guy?" you finally asked her and she nodded vaguely, but it was enough for you to understand. Jun-hee didn't even bother to correct you when you said his name wrong.

You just sighed and even if you didn't say it out loud, she could feel how angry you were with her - how disappointed. "You're mad at me," she stated while you continued to stroke her back reassuringly, even when the position you were holding her in was a little uncomfortable for you. "Of course I am, the guy's an asshole and you're only in your early twenties," you answered her honestly, comforting her with your own broken heart. "Does he even know? Last I heard, all his fans were sending him death threats because he stole their money or something."

She didn't even want to think about it. "He's not answering my calls and I have no idea where he is."

You let out another heavy sigh. "You're really stupid sweetie, I knew that guy was like this from the beginning, really," you spoke up before looking confusedly at Jun-hee after she lifted her head from your chest and met your gaze with a furrowed brow. "Can you stop rubbing it in my face? I already know that I fucked up!" she exclaimed, completely exhausted as she continued to rub her reddened eyes.

So she wants to keep the baby, her parents probably kicked her out as soon as they found out. You massaged your forehead, exhausted. "So, what now?" you just asked her, elaborating on your question when she looked at you with a confused look. You just wanted to kiss her right now and tell her that everything would be okay again and at the same time, you wanted to smash your head through a wall and cry. "What are you going to do now with a baby on the way? Do you have a plan for how you're going to look after it?"

I don't have a job or any money. I don't know what to do. She didn't answer you right away and just avoided your gaze, embarrassed, so you reached for her hand to get her attention. "If you don't know what to do and you want me to help you, then you have to tell me," you finally said and you were probably the stupid one this time.

Jun-hee looked at you in surprise and took a few seconds to really understand what you meant. "Are you sure? You don't have to do something like that for me..."

You interrupted her relatively quickly. "I want to do this for you because -" and your love confession was almost half hanging from your lips when you stopped yourself from saying it out loud in the last second. What am I doing? This is completely the wrong time for this. "- because you can always count on me, even if no one else does."

Oh, that's right. Jun-hee thought to herself as she held her pounding heart and smiled a little forcedly. I thought she was going to say something else, how stupid of me I mean you're pregnant with another man's child right now Jun-hee, wake up. She brought herself back down to earth. You already gave her more than enough. "Please, help me."

You spread your arms out again to catch her in a hug. "We'll work it out, don't worry..." you tried to reassure her further, any unspoken feelings remaining as you both made the decision to keep them a secret.

[mmaybanks]

❝ a pogue christmas ❞ — jj maybank

𓇼 pairing: bsf!jj x reader

𓇼 summary: the pogues are celebrating christmas and jj decides to risk ruining it all for a simple mistletoe kiss

𓇼 warning(s): fluff, kissing, suggestive/sexual comments and jokes, mentions of abuse/bad family, soft jj, suggestive (?) ending

𓇼 a/n: i blurred the girl’s face in the photo because idk who it is and i don’t want anyone getting confused😭 also its almost christmas and this story is kinda based on a joke i have with a friend!! ALSO this is my first post and im nervous so be nice pls😞

𓇼 wc: ≈ 2.5k

masterlist

it was the week before christmas, and now that the pogues offically had a house of their own, you were the most excited to decorate. sadly, it would have to be done after some begging.

"please, jay. i know you wanna." you sing out, disrupting the previously peaceful silence. the groans of all the pogues were heard. "y/n, why do you wan'to decorate so bad? it's not your first christmas." john b asked. he wasn't opposed to it, but neither was sarah, or pope, or kiara, or cleo. it really was just jj, and for the others, the fact that it took effort contributed.

"can i not enjoy something?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "fine, i'll just decorate all alone, risk my falling to my death, or breaking my back from the heav–"

"god damn, woman. c'mon, let's go get you a tree and some lights." jj abruptly cut you off. you turned back to him with wide eyes, from surprise, but also guilt. he didn't look happy to do it. sarah stifled a laugh from the interaction, watching as two of her best friends stared. "it's fine jj–we don't have to. no one else wants to."

he rolled his eyes, but stood from the couch. when you just stared at him, he sighed loudly. "let's go." he ordered. you let out a quiet squeal, hopping off the couch and to your room, where you grabbed a pair of sneakers to wear out.

the night was spent decorating a newly bought christmas tree, hanging lights throughout the house, and drinking hot cocoa.

after a long few hours, it was nearing midnight. the rest of the pogues were off to 'sleep', while jj stayed up with you. you were still trying to decorate, still having ideas–just no longer the energy to keep doing them.

"c'mere." jj mumbled from his spot on the couch. you look back at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes closed. you took the opportunity to let your vision linger on his arm and shoulder muscles, sure he wouldn't notice. "y'know if you came over you could get a better look, maybe cop a feel." he smirked, tease evident in his tone.

"maybe i was just worried about your temperature, think of that?" you weakly defended against the accurate allegations. "mhm." his voice so weak and rough, but maintaining the playfulness. god, can you blame a girl?

you took a few small strides to the edge of the couch, lowering yourself into his warm embrace. the moment you were in his arms he held on tight. you tried not to focus on how close your bodies were, so close you could feel his breath against your shoulder. goosebumps spread across your bare legs, clad only in small shorts with a christmas pattern.

"i think if anyone's wearin' a concerning amount of clothes, it's you." he whispered, tapping his icy cold fingers against your legs. "i'm fine like this." you lied impulsively. there was no reason, no need, but you hated him to be right about every part of you.

"right, no yeah, of course baby." he played along, the nickname sliding off his tongue too easy. you could feel your heart beat a bit faster, but your breathing slowed against his. "yeah well, these are also the only christmas pajamas i have, so." he hummed in agreement. maybe just to assure you he heard, maybe just to assure himself he was awake.

"can i ask you something?" you paused, once again getting a hum in place for a response. "and you answer honestly." at the suddenly serious tone, he opened his eyes.

he gently pushed up onto his elbows, looking down at you. he stared, trying to memorize every feature he could while he could. he loved being this close to you, being able to see every detail possible. every pore, every color in your eyes–if they were open. all of you. it wasn't until you opened your eyes a few seconds later he realized he hadn't responded.

"yeah. 'course. complete and total honesty." he assured, strong eye contact held since your eyes opened. "yeah." you echoed in a mindless mutter.

you snapped back into your mind after a split moment, your eyes finding the ceiling suddenly very interesting. "um, so why–why didn't you want to decorate? for christmas."

you noticed his jaw clench and unclench before he opened his mouth to speak. it was shut just as quickly, and you could see him searching for the right words to say. "i jus' uh, didn't ever have any good memories with it, y'know? growin' up poor, with a shitty father, not really fun."

oh. "mh, yeah, 'm sorry. i guess i never thought of it like that." he sighed, looking down to his fingers tapping against your side. "no biggie." he forced a laugh, almost sounding genuine, but the sad undertones shown through.

"well, y'know what that means?" you couldn't hide the smile that threatened to show on your face, but part of you didn't want to. it kept the atmosphere not too heavy. "what's that?"

"y'gotta make good new memories." he smiled at your optimism. "thanks for today. it means a lot."

instead of a verbal response, he just settled down comfortably, wrapping his arms around you closer.

the following week was spent with a lot of talk of christmas. you were determined to make good memories of christmas for jj–making gingerbread houses, binging christmas movies, baking regular cookies, everything you could think of. so focused on that, you had yet to notice the simple decoration above the doorframe of the kitchen and living room that you didn't add.

it was christmas eve, another night where the pogues had all already went to bed. to your knowledge, all of them had.

earlier you had all decided against gifts, which was understandable. even after el dorado, you didn't have infinite money to spend. but, you had saved up just enough for christmas presents for everyone. nothing too extravagant or expensive, but small things with meaning to them.

each and every present had a story or inside meaning with the person it was for. jj's gift was a handmade bracelet you made for yourself a few months ago that jj would always point out. you tried to give it to him multiple times but he would always refuse.

"what'cha got there?" a loud whisper called out, causing your soul to practically leave your body. "jesus, jj. what are you doing awake?"

his body shook with a laugh against the doorframe he was leaning against. "nuh-uh, i asked a question first."

you sighed, "mm, jus' a few itty-bitty presents." you smiled like you had just been caught doing something bad, which to be fair, you were doing something you said you wouldn't. "mhm, i thought we weren't doing presents?"

"it's a . . . christmas miracle?" you retorted, sounding too much like a question. "okay, look. i got you all presents but they were before that and it was all cheap. promise."

his eyes softened at your guilty voice. clearing this throat, he walked over and sat beside you on the ground. your shoulders were touching, as were your knees, and it made you wonder if he felt as nauseous with nerves as you did.

"'s okay. i won't tell." he leaned closer, a playful fire in his eyes, his tone playful as always. "promise." he repeated back to you. a moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "so what'd you get me?"

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, feigning annoyance. "you can't wait 5 hours?" he shook his head 'no', a grin exposing himself.

"nope." he looked away from you, at the pile of presents on the floor. he shoved his shoulder on yours before standing up, looking at you expectantly, stretching his arms in a way that had you drooling.

he didn't say another word, but you felt like you were supposed to follow him. you did, but you were so focused on his shoulders, the soft lighting from the tree lights really highlighting each ridge of his muscles, that you hadn't noticed his sudden stop.

you ran right into his back, now in shock and very confused.

"huh." he spoke, looking at your eyes and up, back and forth, before continuing. "would you look at that." he acted amused, like it was a coincidence.

but under that facade, his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding fast and hard–feeling like it was going to explode out of his chest. he couldn't help but have a million thoughts running through his head all at once, wondering how this would go. he hoped all of the stolen glances meant to you what they had always meant to him.

you looked up after he had done it twice, now realizing what he was talking about. you could feel your cheeks warm, your heartbeat in your neck, but all you could really focus on was jj.

the bright blue eyes you had learned to lose yourself in, the lips you longed for, him in his entirety. the jj you had fallen in love with. that same jj, wanted to kiss you.

you felt like you couldn't breath. what if this was just him making another flirty joke to you? but with the way he looked at you in this moment, there was no way, his eyes were flickering between your eyes and your lips. they got stuck on your lips repeatedly. he wanted to feel them on his, wanted to taste you, if even only for a moment.

"rules are rules, right?" he whispered, his hands slowly inching to grab your waist. his thumbs rubbed up and down on the now exposed skin, the flimsy cropped shirt doing nothing to cover the goosebumps spread on your entire body.

a weak, "yeah." was all you could manage to get out, all other sounds caught deep in your throat. "yeah?" he echoed, silently begging for confirmation that you wanted this and this was actually happening. he needed to know this wasn't another dream.

"mhm. rules, y'know. pope would kill us if we didn't follow the rules." at your small joke he let out a huffy-laugh, shaking his head, trying to wipe the smile off his own face.

the moment of comfortable laughter was replaced quickly, the air feeling thicker by the second. one of his hands moved from your waist to your face, the other traveling lower to your hip. he gave it a slight squeeze as he tilted your head up.

the anticipation was killing you, but in the best way imaginable. you pushed forward, your lips finally meeting his in a desperate, but delicate kiss. the type of kiss that showed how much he wanted to kiss you, how long he's been waiting, how much he's holding back. the delicacy surprised you, you thought it would be a more heated kiss, but jj was scared of spilling his all into it and ruining it completely.

somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried that this wasn't a good way to confess, but he remembered the reason thats how he did it. john b had somehow convinced him that if you didnt like him back, he could play it off as 'usual jj flirting', but now he wasn't sure he could.

you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. his hand migrated again to your lower back, using the placement to press your body further into his. the warmth of your cuddled bodies, and in his chest, made up for the winter weather and the lack of clothing on your bodies.

you could feel his tongue poke your bottom lip ever so slightly, almost like he wasn't ready. at that thought, you could feel your lips form a smile but you were unable stop it, breaking the kiss. "wow." you breathed out. "pretty good, right?"

you forced a nod out, ignoring the underlying tone of humor in his question. you couldn't help yourself from giggling, both at your reactions and at the excitement from finally being able to kiss him. "what're ya laughing at?"

"you." he raised an eyebrow, pointing to himself. "you just kissed me." you smiled.

"christmas miracle, amirite?" you smiled to yourself, pulling him closer to hide your face in his chest. "shut up." you mumbled into his shirt. "baby, i got you in my arms right now, it's gotta be some typa miracle."

"oh yeah? this can't be just because i want to?" you teased, pulling back. the shit-eating grin on your face morphed into something a lot softer when you noticed jj's body subconsciously rock closer to you. "nah, you wouldn't."

"no?" you asked, pressing your lips into his again, and again, and again. the kisses slowly became more and more natural as you did. "nope. no way."

"jj." he paused his movement to continue, looking you straight in the eye. "yeah?"

you hesitated for a second, and jj could tell what was coming next, so he began his long awaited confession.  "i like you. like, a lot. i mean, fuck, i love you. i can't, i just, don't know–"

"i love you too jay." you cut him off, knowing he was just going to spiral. "you're so cute, oh my god." you squeal after his dimples pop into his cheeks. he pushes your hand away from his cheeks, trying to avoid you noticing his flush.

"'m not cute. just, c'mere." he whispered to not break the comfortable bubble surrounding you two. he reached in for a hug, swooping his arms under yours, wrapping around your chest loosely. your arms raised to around his neck, inching your face closer again. he buried his head into the crevice of your neck, breathing you in.

"and why would i do that?" you giggled to yourself, enjoying the act of confusion and innocence. "i love you."

his suddenly serious confession caught you off guard, catching your breath in seconds. you kissed the top of his head, squeezing your arms tighter. from behind you, he could see the clock turn to midnight. "best christmas ever."

"yeah?" you asked, relief and happiness overflowing your senses. "mhm." he gently kissed you again, swiftly picking you up. out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his torso. "jj, if you drop me i swear—"

"relax, baby. i won’t drop you." he giggled in your neck. he laid your down against the couch, letting himself lay comfortably between your legs. he rested his head on your shoulder, giving one more peck to your cheek. his fingers gripped onto your plush thighs, not planning on moving anywhere, just to hold. his lips began a descent down your neck, gentle enough to feel but not leave marks. "can it be christmas more often?"

"how ’bout we leave the mistletoe up, that way you can man up and kiss me everyday." he nodded. as he cuddled closer, his nose brushed your neck, small laughter erupting from it tickling you. "how ’bout, everyday, no mistletoe needed?" he whispered.

"works for me." you giggled out, his mouth kissing for any skin in sight. his affections sent shivers down your spine, the soft rub on your legs causing you to let out a soft sigh. he smirked at the noise escaping your lips, capturing yours and his again in a more heated and messy way this time.

"c'mon guys, not on the couch."

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 1, a familiar stranger

Masterlist Word count: 1.2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. No graphic content yet.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Did Rafayel find someone to rent my apartment yet,' Zayne questions as he puts two mugs of tea on your coffee table. You shrug in response. 

'Haven't heard anything yet, but knowing him, it'll probably be soon.' Zayne smiles at your sulking expression. He reaches out to ruffle a hand through your hair. You quickly smack his hand away and stare at him with pretend anger. 

'How have you been holding up without me?' That question is loaded, and he knows it. For the past four years, he has been your neighbor. But he has always been much more than that. 

When he noticed you were living on your own, he would sometimes bring over leftovers. Some days you would come home to a note taped on your door with a request to be quiet because he had a long shift and another even longer shift coming up. You started doing the same, but with notices if you had someone over or were doing something that could cause noise. Eventually, you two got to talking and formed a familial relationship. It always felt like you had a big brother looking out for you. 

Ever since he moved to the next city over to work in another hospital, you have missed him tons. Sometimes it hurts when you realize you can't just walk two steps from your front door and be talking to him. Meeting up is even more strenuous than it was before, and you miss him like crazy. It's not just the proximity though, no, it's also that you don't know everything going on in his life anymore. He's doing amazing things, meeting amazing people, helping to make the world a better place, and you barely know the names of his closest colleagues. 

'I'm fine,' but your voice betrays you, trembling throughout your words. Zayne's eyes look worried, and his hand moves to touch your shoulder to comfort you. 'I'm fine, really. Just getting used to being alone in the city again.' 

'You're not alone anymore. You've got Tara, and you get along alright with that new colleague of yours, right? Jeremiah?' 

'I know, it's just...' He reaches out to pull you into his chest. 

'I understand. I miss you too.' 

'I just hope the next person is nice too,' you mumble against his shirt while he gently rubs your back. All this feels so normal, so nice. You're not sure if you'll ever fully get over not living next to Zayne anymore. It was perfect, and now it's gone. You can't blame him though. This was a very important step for his career and you're glad he did it, it just makes you feel like you're stuck in the same place all over again.  

Everything just feels so stagnant, so normal. Like nothing ever changes. You can only tell that time has passed by your growing fingernails and the dust building up on your windowsill... You should really clean. It's been too long. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'This is nice,' Luke awes as he walks into Sylus’ new apartment. The place is completely empty and there's a bit of an echo, but he's right. The place is nice. That doesn't mean Sylus has to be happy about it. In fact, he's not even close to being done groaning and whining about being doxed for the third time. 

Sylus grumbles: 'My last place was nice.' Kieran nudges him over the threshold of the apartment. 

'Stop whining you big baby. Shit happens.' Sylus turns to him with a death glare. Kieran rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in defeat. 'Sorry man. There really isn't much else to say about it.' 

Sylus knows damn well that he's right, he's just not ready to admit it. That last place was a little bit special to him. It was the first place he moved into on his own after a long relationship. He knew his job would always be an obstacle in any relationship, but he thought she had gotten over it. She clearly hadn't.  

When his popularity skyrocketed, she left him. Told him she couldn't keep sharing him, no matter how many times he told her there was no one to share him with. She was part of the reason he started doing solo stuff. He even offered her to stop doing it. It wasn't even a big deal to him. That didn't matter to her. 

Luke and Kieran tried to get him back to who he was, yet even they couldn't ignore the fact that he became a little different. He distanced himself, became harsher, became colder. He wasn't particularly rude or anything, just a bit off-putting if you don't know him. 

'Anyway, I'm going to let your neighbor know we're moving you in this week,' Kieran states and quickly leaves the apartment. Luke gives Sylus a look. 

'What,' Sylus snaps at him. 

'Shouldn't you join him?' Sylus raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger and a lot more intimidating. 

'I just got doxed. Why would I go around introducing myself to everyone?' 

Luke just shrugs. Sylus antics don't do much to him anymore after knowing him so long. 'Fair enough.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The doorbell buzzes. It's ever so slightly longer than the average person would press a doorbell, and so ever so slightly more annoying. Mayorly more annoying because you were just dozing off cuddled up to Zayne on the couch. It has been a long time since that happened. 

You groan and shift, but Zayne tightens his grip. 'Don't go.' His voice is gravelly, tired, a little strained. For a little while you're considering it, but then the bell buzzes a second time. Longer this time. 

'It's just for a second,' you whisper back. He nods and his grip loosens. You get off his chest and quickly shuffle to the front door. When you open it, you have to take a few seconds to digest the picture in front of you. 'Kieran? Why are you here? Does Tara need something?' 

It seems his head short-circuits just like yours has as he takes a few seconds to answer. 'Eh, no. I didn't know you live here. I'm just... I'm helping a friend move in. I'm doing a round to warn people about the noise.' 

'Oh, good to know. Thank you. Who's your friend?' 

'His name is Sylus but he's a pretty private person, so I can't promise you he'll stop by to introduce himself.' 

'Fair enough,' you respond while you think back to how Zayne used to be. It was a similar situation. Took more than half a year before you two would even greet each other when passing in the hallway. 'Well, give Tara my best. I'll probably see you soon.' 

'I will. See ya.' 

'Who was that,' Zayne asks from the couch. 

'Friend of the new neighbor. He's moving in this week.' You grab your phone from the coffee table to check if Rafayel send anything about a new tenant, instead you see a notification from Red Crow's socials. A new post. 

"No smutty chapter this Friday. I have a busy week.   Maybe if you beg, I'll record myself getting off." 

Previous - Next

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Alexander the Great w/ Soldier's Pregnant Widow!Reader

❝ 📜 — lady l: this is a commission that I was very happy to do! I'm sorry for the delay, I confess that I had forgotten this in my drafts and only remembered it after reading your messagem, anon! I hope you enjoy it and, as requested, it is more based on Alexander's feelings for the Reader. Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: mention of death, mourning. pregnancy and fluff.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

You were the wife of one of Alexander's cavalry soldiers who, unlike many other soldiers' wives, decided to accompany him to war. You loved your husband deeply and did not want to be separated from him.

Your husband also loved you deeply. He wasn't a general or a high-ranking officer, but your husband tried to make you as comfortable as possible in this violent environment. He was loyal to you, something rare but one you appreciated. You loved him with everything in you.

Until the day you lost him. During the Battle of Granicus, your husband died in battle and your world collapsed. You had lost the man you loved and it felt like an endless road. Alexander, being the beloved King that he was, buried the dead soldiers with the necessary honors and spoke to the wives present in the camp. And one of them was you.

Alexander was immediately enchanted by you. He was surprised at how you handled your grief, clearly you loved your husband very much and the pain of the loss you felt captivated him. He didn't take long to approach you subtly at first.

Alexander was kind and protective, offering his condolences and staying by your side. His words were kind and his discreet smiles were reserved just for you. More observant people didn't take long to notice the King's interest in you, but they never dared to say anything, not when they knew his temperament.

You found yourself lost in a sea of pain and sadness, unable to find comfort in anything around you. Alexander's comforting presence was like an anchor in the midst of the storm, offering support and compassion in such a dark time. He understood your pain as he had also lost soldiers close to him.

Alexander felt compelled to protect and care for you, not only out of gratitude for your husband's sacrifice, but also because he genuinely cared for you. His discreet smiles and kind gestures were an attempt to ease your pain, to be a ray of light amid the darkness you faced.

Although you fought your feelings, you found yourself enjoying the King's presence. But you soon discovered that you were pregnant by your late husband and you decided to focus on honoring your husband's memory and focusing on the baby growing inside you.

Alexander didn't like it at all when you tried to move away from him but he soon understood why. He wasn't angry or anything, but surprised and slightly bothered. You would have a child, something he wanted, but it wouldn't be with him. He couldn't blame you, though, it wasn't your fault.

As time passed, your belly grew and the pain of loss lessened, you found yourself more and more involved in the camp's activities, keeping yourself busy to keep away the thoughts that haunted you at night. And you found yourself increasingly close to Alexander, who made his feelings for you very clear.

He respected the fact that you weren't ready to get married due to the fact that you were pregnant, he could wait until the baby was born. But he wasn't far from you, spending his free time by your side while also taking care of you. You owned your own tent and personal effects, along with those of your late husband.

In time, your husband's child was born, and you held it in your arms with love and sadness. It was a part of him you would carry forever, a living reminder of the man you loved so much. Alexander was present and he acted as if your child were his. He didn't even like it when people mentioned it wasn't his.

You were his and your baby was his too. Alexander was skeptical about it at first but he warmed up to the idea. The mourning period is over and your child has been born, now it is time for you to become his wife and have children of his own.

[jsmainblog]

shoulder to cry on - spencer reid ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x bau!reader,

summary: after a particulary bad case which upsets you spencer offers you some comfort

warnings: light angst, illusions to child murder/death/killing

fluff 💗/ angst 💔

It had been a hard case. Even just thinking about how everything turned out makes your eye's water and your throat raw. Sitting on the BAU jet staring out the window you grapple onto the ledge in your mind to avoid being dragged into the unforgiving hell of emotion surrounding the case.

Most the BAU team are asleep. All except for one. He sat quietly in his seat seemingly engrossed in the book held in his nimble hands that you have come to known better than your own. You notice the way his eyebrows furrows, or the way his lip curls, or when he's looking at.. you? Your eyes dart away quickly. You know they are red rimmed and glassy and if anything Spencer knows when somethings up. Even just one glance and he could tell. Having a profiler and genius as a boyfriend has its pros and cons sometimes.

Spencer stands, his long limbs seeming unsteady as he comes and sits next to you.

"Hey" he says gently. He gives you that smile. The smile that makes you wanna melt, the smile that makes you believe everythings okay, the smile that you want to confide in.

"Hi"

"So I know you probably not having a allergic reaction, and I know its hayfever season, and I know you probably didn't put any contact lenses in so are you going to tell me whats wrong?" he says gently trying to inquire about your emotional state without pushing you. Your heart can't help to flutter. He knows you so well.

"Is it about the case?" he inquires again. When your eyes dart away you see a saddened, almost sympathetic look befall his face and he sighs.

"Baby, you couldn't have saved them you know that. There in a better place now, a place without pain. Please sweetheart don't blame yourself, I know it's tough but I can't sit here and watch you be so upset." he murmured.

"I know that Spence but if I did something different I could've...I could've saved them or at very least one of them. I didn't.. I didn't want to fail them." you choke. You feel his arm wrap around your shoulder and a tender kiss placed to your temple.

"You saved a life angel. Thats better than saving none okay? One kid is going home back to their mom and dad. One baby is going back to their parents." he mused. When a raw sob cut through your throat and tears spilled over the already sensitive rim of your eyes Spencer pulls you into a tight hug. His splayed hand rubs circles on your spine, his other hand which rests on your hip, rubs your hip bone with his thumb.

"Sshh shhh. Your okay, your gonna be okay lovely. I'm here don't worry." he mumbles into your hair pressing a kiss to your crown. You sob quietly into his chest as his warm palms and lips attempt to comfort you.

"Oh my sweet girl. I know, I know. I'm so sorry angel. Deep breathes for me now." he mutters. When you finally lean away from him revealing your tear stained face he wipes his thumb over travelling tears. Spencer looks like his heart is aching, which in reality it is. He's seeing the girl who he cares so deeply and eternally for break down in his arms for something she was no control of.

"I'm sorry." you say bashfully a weak smile tugging at your lips.

"Sweetheart what are you sorry for? If your sorry about being upset you have absolutely no reason to be sorry for. Infact, if you didn't get upset I'd be even more worried. You don't have to be sorry for being human baby, or having emotions, everyone on the team has probably done this in the jet bathrooms if I'm gonna be honest." he says trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Really?" you say a bit shocked. You thought the other team members where so resilient, acquired through years of emotional berating from cases and a 'if it happens, it happens.' attitude.

"Course we do. JJ always has to have a minute after some cases revolving around children, Morgan with pedophiles, I do with those who are struggling mentally. Some of us aren't as strong as we think. But its okay, at the end of the day we know we've tried our best and if we've at least saved one life we are happy. Its better to focus on what went right rather then mulling over what went wrong." Spencer explains. It shocks you again, you've noticed BAU members having unusually long time spent in the jets bathroom but you didn't think it was for crying at all. It comforts you a little, while yes your teammates, your friends are in pain at least they feel the same way you do. At least they can understand.

"I think you should sleep sweetie, I think it would be good for you. You know because you can't think in your sleep. Well actually you can, you process your thoughts and events from the day subconsciously, and you dream, and you can wake yourself up from thinking when you are asleep. I'm not helping am I?" he rambles.

"No, not particularly."

"You wanna sleep on me? I don't want to sound full of myself but I think I'm more comfy then the jets headrest." he suggests.

When your head drops to his shoulder and your eyes close, you don't feel like your head is a swarm of bad memories and thoughts surrounding the case being played on loop its just filled with thoughts about Spencer. Mainly on how grateful that you have such a sweet, loving boyfriend in your life. At that point in time you knew that you love Spencer, that you are inlove with him and it fills you with ease because you already know he loves you back.

[skyfallscotland]

🐉 ONYX STORM PROLOGUE, CHAPTERS ONE & TWO MY THOUGHTS: (god bless the dutch 🇳🇱)

So not totally verified yet, but it seems legit. This is absolutely the scene I expected us to be starting with, and despite the translation it does read like Rebecca. Thank you so much to @thestarseternaal for sharing it with me! You can find it here.

Ok, let's fucking goooooo! 🤘

· That trigger warning list? "The death of an animal" 💀😬 The "descriptions of sexual acts" though, thank god, though it's not looking promising for the two of them so far.

· Garrick and Bodhi KNOW?! Ok that I didn't see coming?

· "I can't blame him for wanting to know what he is" ANDARNA 😭 "I'm as much in the dark as he is, and you trust me." 😭 I want to hug the baby

· "Magic feels different when I change colours. When I used my power, it was like the venin transformed, weakening-" Ok so confirmed, she's the solution they're looking for *sigh*

· It's going to be unfortunate if the allies we're seeking are just Poromiel, and I think they are given both the excerpt prior to the prologue and the fact the Target edition map had only a few places in Poromiel on it and no Isles. I guess we're not looking for Andarna's family over there until books four and five? 😞

· Wait...what? Leadership knows what Andarna is? Everyone knows? Who TF told them? I was certain they didn't see? I can't believe we spent all this time worrying about people knowing she was a baby when she bonded and y'all just told everyone she was a super special rare breed right off the bat. SMDH.

· Aotrom's only 22? 😭 I'm older than Aotrom? RIDOC and him are the same age, that makes so much sense!!

· TAIRN CALLS XADEN "THE DARK ONE"? 😭 I feel like I'm not going to like Tairn much this book, and I feel like he's gonna ☠️ but that's for my theory post.

· "His soul is no longer his own" "That's a bit dramatic." VIOLET I LOVE YOU 🖤

· "You mean whether I'll support you in the thousand ways you want to face death to heal someone who's beyond redemption?" Oh Tairn...why do I get the really, really bad feeling you lied about Naolin?

· The truth-sayers have let Caroline Ashton off the hook? Hmmmm suspicious. Everyone's evil, I just know it.

· "Devera and Kaori will be back soon. They’ll straighten out the command structure once the princes have signed a treaty that hopefully grants us grace for even leaving in the first place." Ummm princes plural? So I guess Cam hid for nothing? Well not nothing, but he's...back with his fam? Also why would they be signing shit? Where's the damn king?!

· "The rarest signet, which appear once per generation or century, have been documented twice simultaneously with an equal counterpart, both during critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent at the same time. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not witness it again in my lifetime. – A study of signets by Major Dalton Sisneros" Ok could be a weird translation but I'm confused by this. The counterpart thing could be either a rider and a venin (ie. one of the venin can distance wield and we're getting a distance wielder) or dark and light, ie. shadows and light. Also six like the first six and they all had partners within themselves? Three pairs? Or? What even were their signets because I can't believe we've NEVER FUCKING ASKED? I've literally never seen that mentioned and it seems...so fucking relevant.

· Perhaps a more outlandish theory, but I think the venin with the silver hair who distance wields might be Xaden's mother. I'll elaborate later, but 😬😬

· Ok well, 1. I'm fucking crying already, and 2. "Even if I reached the rank of Maven, led armies of dark wielders against everyone we care about, and if I had to watch every vein in my body turn red because I had drained all the powers of the Continent, I would still love you. What I’ve done doesn’t change that. I don’t know if that’s even possible." That's a little bit storm in the quiet, I love it when the vibe is proven ✨correct✨ 😭 @justallihere

So all in all, 1. As expected, every excerpt, hint, and thing we've thought about it over in one-two chapters, 2. This is going to hurt so bad and I think it will go as I expected, and 3. I'm still not ready 😭

Send help 🥺

[ashwhowrites]

can I request one where it after the upside down and Eddie is not doing good and pushes everybody away including the reader then he realises that he really misses the Reader and beg for reader forgiveness and they make up. please and thank you love youuu.!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The upside down curse

The Upside Down had effects on many people, some were used to it and some experienced it for the first time. Y/N and the gang had been to the Upside Down more than once. They were slowly getting used to the torture and haunting memories.

Eddie was new to it all. The things he's seen and the pain he went through, it kept him up at night. He didn't understand how they went on with their life like they didn't see death right in their face. He stayed locked up in his room, body slowly healing as he tried to forget it all.

He started to push everyone away, seeing them reminded him of what happened. And he knew he shouldn't but he blamed all his friends and even his girlfriend. They all kept him in the dark until they needed his help. They had no problem lying right to his face over and over. They knew the dangers of the Upside Down and still sent him in. He wasn't sure if he could forgive them for that.

"Eddie," Wayne's voice came through the door as he knocked, "Y/N is here."

Eddie rolled over in his bed, looking at the door. A part of him wanted to see her but the other part was still mad about what she did.

"Tell her to go home," Eddie called out

He was met with silence, then the sound of footsteps walking away and a door closing.

~~~

She came every day and he always sent her away. But she kept showing up, even on days that Wayne wasn't there. The door was never locked and she never opened it. Y/N was a person who liked to talk everything out and he knew that conversation wouldn't end well. He feared he'd lose his temper and a screaming match would start. He almost lost her in the upside down and he wasn't ready to lose her here.

"Eddie? It's been two weeks, can we please talk about it?"

Like clockwork, her voice traveled through his door. He sighed but sat up. He thought about what he wanted to do.

"Eddie?" She asked again, knocking on the door. Eddie sat in silence with his thoughts, unaware his silence made her think the worst.

She panicked and slammed open the door. Relief in her veins as she saw him sitting on his bed.

"I didn't say you could come in," he said, no emotion in his voice as he stared ahead.

"You didn't answer! I thought you were dead or something" she argued, taking time to step into his room. She hadn't seen him in over two weeks and never realized how much she could miss seeing someone's face.

Eddie scoffed and shook his head. "Right because now you care if I'm dead or not."

Y/N clenched her eyes at his words. "Of course, I care. I've always cared," she said, moving to sit next to him. Her head turned to look at him but he didn't look back at her, head still straight.

"Eddie, I never wanted you to get involved in this" she whispered

Eddie's head snapped towards her, "then why did you?" He snapped

"I didn't!" She argued, "I didn't know you were coming. If I did, I would have locked you inside this trailer. I'd never want you in danger like that!"

"Right, that's why you all initially lied to me. You all wanted to protect me. But then what? You needed someone to save your asses and I was the damn sacrifice!" He fought, standing up as he felt his anger building.

"You can blame us all you want, but guess what Eddie!" She stood in front of him, her own anger taking over. "You made the choice, you made the choice to listen and go in. Take responsibility for it and let me help you." Her voice grew soft at the end. "I know you were scared, and I hate that I wasn't there right when you needed me. But I'm here now, let me be here, baby"

Eddie melted when her hands rested on his cheeks. He could feel his anger breaking down and the build-up of tears leaked down his face.

"I thought I was going to die" he whimpered, "I didn't want to die yet"

Y/N watched as he broke out into a sob, his head shoved into her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back as he cried.

"You're safe now, honey. You're right where you should be," she cooed into his ear.

He wrapped his arms around her, so tight that she couldn't move an inch. Not that she minded. She was happy to finally feel him again.

"I'm sorry," he cried, "I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"It's okay, it's okay," she said softly, kissing his head softly. "We'll be okay"

@mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[thegnomelord]

18, gaz and price (separately), possibly trans for either of them?

I'm not doing two separate characters so I just picked Gaz since there's not enough smut of him. Also I blame @rodolfoparras n @lieutnt for putting me on the breeding men train :Dd. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Sex after a near death experience

CW:NSFW, Trans!Gaz, Male reader, somnophilia, breeding kink, baby trapping

Gaz nearly lost you. He knows in this industry it's only a matter of time before something like this happens, but it had still scared him to death when he saw you go down. He bargained with anything above that would listen for you to just live, useless to do anything but watch behind a screen as surgeons rushed to keep you alive.

The idea to keep a part of you strikes him when he goes to buy a new box of birth control, the knowledge of having someone to love and care for when you may not return to him has Kyle backpedaling out of the pharmacy fast as lightning.

Kyle carefully slinks into your shared bed despite the fact the pain meds in your system keep you sleeping like a log. You don't stir when he pulls your sleeping pants and boxers down, but Kyle coos softly when your cock twitches from a simple touch; just goes to show even unconscious you want him.

He lays chaste but loving kisses along your exposed skin, careful where blotches of red stain your bandages as he settles between your legs. He takes your soft cock into his mouth and just lets you rest against his tongue, warmth flooding his heart when his soft massage of your thighs makes you throb inside him. He watches your chest carefully and stays warming you until your breathing levels out again, your body relaxing even further.

He moves his tongue slowly and takes his time to relearn all your sensitive spots, each swipe of his tongue making you grow harder and harder until he can trace the veins along your cock. His mouth vibrates with a groan when a bead of pre seeps from your head and he savors the taste like it's honey, the scent and taste of you forcing him to push two fingers into himself to settle the heat in his belly. The combined sound of his lips slurping and sucking on your cock and his cunt wetly squelching as he roughly stretches himself has him clenching hard on his fingers.

He lets go of your cock when you finally get rock hard in his mouth, laying a final kiss to the tip before he straddles you. He's careful not to jostle your stitches when you can barely breathe without pulling them, bracing a hand next to your head as he uses his slick fingers to lube you up further.

Taking hold of your cock head he resists taking you balls deep and slowly eases himself down until the tip pops inside him. He breathes out slowly, lashes fluttering as you groan in your sleep. His cunt flutters around your hard shaft as he slides down, treasuring every inch as it spreads him so wonderfully. "So big for me," He's breathless when he finally settles on your thighs, hole clenching around you as his body tries desperately to adjust to your size, pain and pleasure mingling along his spine.

Your breathing picks up when he starts moving, thighs tensing to slowly rise and fall back on your cock. Kyle places a hand on his stomach and just the idea of it growing large, of being gravid with your kid, has his body moving on it's own, so lost in his little fantasy he doesn't notice you waking up.

"Kyle?" You breathe out and Gaz knows the moment you register where your cock is when your hips do a little twitch upwards.

"Mornin' love." He breathes out, leaning in to sweetly kiss your eyelids; he hopes you and the baby will have matching eyes.

"What are you doing?" You grind your teeth, eyes closing as the pleasure of his tight hot heat washes over you. You pant, gripping his thighs as he continues to ride you.

"Shhh, let me have this, yeah?" He kisses you softly, grinding his hips so your cock tip brushes against his cervix, heart fluttering when you moan unabashedly.

It takes you a little while to notice that there's no separation between your cock and his gummy walls like there usually is, "Are you on the pill?" You ask, but you don't attempt to stop him, too exhausted and sleepy to do anything but be a living dildo for him.

"Yeah." The lie slips so easily from his lips he doesn't even think about it, increasing his pace so his asscheeks clap against your thighs and drive you both closer to orgasm. "Please, mate, love, need you-" He grabs your hand and places it on his stomach, pressing down until you can feel yourself through his skin. "-right here."

The desperate look in his eyes has you nodding quickly, bucking your hips upwards and your cock twitching when he moans so sweetly. "Want me to put a baby in you, huh?" You slur, even with the arousal and pain meds clouding your mind you notice how your words make him speed up. "You want to be a mommy Kyle?"

You don't expect your words to make him gush slick. "Fuck, yes, yes, yes-" He braces against your shoulders, slamming his hips down to meet your thrusts, whimpering softly then your thumb comes down to rub his clit. "-yes, please, love, need- need your cum."

You both tumble into orgasm soon after, his hips pressing flush to yours so your cum has a direct path into his womb and thighs tensing as if you'd try to pull him off. He's panting, mind a buzz with pleasure as he can feel your cum slosh inside him when he presses against his stomach.

Your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes closing as post-orgasmic bliss threatens to pull you back into the land of dreams. Overstimulation cuts through the fog of sleep as Kyle moves, but instead of getting off he just starts slowly riding you again, small little grinds of his hips making you harden despite just cuming.

"Kyle, what?" You suck in a breath, overstimulation turning to pleasure but even then it's getting harder to stay awake when your body's so ehausted.

You feel his hand on your cheek, his lips softly kissing all around your face. "Shhhh love," He murmurs against your brow, kissing each eyelid and trailing down to the tip of your nose. "Go back to sleep, I promise I'll be quick." Pecking your nose he meets your lips in a lazy kiss.

"Fine," You concede, not able and not wanting to stop him when he looks so pretty on top of you, the spine tingling pleasure of his warm cunt continuing to clench around you slowly lulling you back to sleep. When you'll awaken, you'll find him curled up next to you, a hand held possessively held on his stomach to protect your valuable cum inside him. . . but for now Kyle will just ride you until you shoot blanks, drawing sleepy orgasm after sleepy orgasm out of you until his womb's overflowing with your cum.

[tinylilacbun]

rafe involuntarily regresses and doesn't know it ‧₊˚ ┊

You are just about to finish your skincare routine when you see your phone light up, wiping your hands on a towel before picking it up, smiling at seeing that its a message from Rafe.

A frown spreads on your face, reading that you both couldn't meet up today because something came up.

Weird. It's unlike him to abruptly cancel your plans since he always looks forward to every second he gets to spend with you, so you're a little concerned that something might be wrong.

He has been under a lot of stress lately, to which he just replied that it's just because of Sarah acting up or some shit, but you know better.

That's how you're now making your short way to Tannyhill, luckily living a few houses away from your boyfriend.

As you round the corner you stop when you hear a familiar voice shouting.

"Please! Sarah, please don't leave, okay?" Rafe calls out desperately, continuing when Sarah stops her bicycle. "Dad's gone. And now it's just...it's you, me, and Wheezie."

"What's the point, Rafe?" Sarah sniffles, trying to keep up a tough facade.

You watch as he approaches to stand in front of her, not being able to make out what they're saying and shocked by what you just heard, Ward is gone?

After a while Sarah simply drives past him and he lifts his hands to fist his hair in frustration, turning to watch his sister leave he catches you standing a few feet away, his hands falling back to his sides.

Walking over to him you see a single tear rolling down his face, picking up your pace you embrace him just in time for him to break down.

He loosely wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and his body trembling slightly as he cries, finally letting out all the pent up emotions he kept sealed for the past weeks.

"He's gone...he-" He chokes on his own words and you shush him softly.

"I'm here, I got you..." You assure him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "C'mon, let's go inside. Tell me what happened."

Soon you're both cuddled up on his bed. Rafe laying on top of you, using your chest as a pillow while you run a hand through his hair to soothe him as he sniffles, his hands holding onto you for dear life.

"If I wouldn't have...I could have saved him I-" He keeps on rambling over and over again, blaming himself for his father's death.

You sigh heavily, on one side you obviously feel bad for him, not wanting to see the person you love so much pain.

On the other side you can't help but feel a tinge of frustration at how much Rafe cares for his father who didn't even wanted to acknowledge the fact that his son needed help even after he himself told him that he's not well.

He doesn't need to be all big and independent in your eyes. He should get to have someone that listens to him and help him fight his demons, not push him away and tell him to 'man up'.

"You're not alone, baby...I'm here for you, always." You hum, your nails softly scratching the back of his head to the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss to his hair.

He adjusts his position to be able to look up at you with glassy eyes, the tiniest pout on his face as he blinks at you. "M'scared..."

"Scared? Of what?" You ask, your voice soft and like balm to his soul.

"This- This feelin'." He mumbles, his grip on your shirt tightening momentarily. "I jus'...feel so small? I dunno, you make me feel safe and- and taken care of."

Your eyes widen a tad, your hands not stopping their comforting gestures. You've noticed for a while that Rafe seems to slip into some kind of subspace? But not exactly what you would expect.

His speech slurs and he won't let go of you, not even for longer than a minute, almost whimpering when you would pull away.

He reminds you of this sweet little boy he was when you both were younger and playing or fooling around in figure eight.

"It's okay, don't worry about anything right now. Just relax." You smile at him, cupping his cheek with your hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb as he nuzzles more against you, craving your comfort.

Whatever this is he seems to slip into, you're there for him, always. You love Rafe with your whole heart and would do anything to make him feel cared for.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[kawaiipienerdfreak]

I'll never believe your tears, Sunday.

edit: i was given a great analogy to zuko from avatar, and now i'm not so critical. thanks everyone for your attention

I want to say this upfront: as a character, Sunday works perfectly fine for me. But I absolutely can’t stand how the fandom obediently swallowed such a stupid retcon of his character. And I can’t stand fandom stripped him of all blame. Time and time again, I see posts like: “Oh, my precious little sunshine! Don’t cry... Oh no, he’s crying in his ultimate! He didn’t deserve this, poor thing!”

And I’m left wondering: what the hell?

What the hell was HoYoverse thinking when they gave us a dictator with a god complex (borderline chūnibyō syndrome) as an antagonist? A character who defended someone who sold children into slavery. Someone who mocked a slave for their origins. Someone who placed himself above the local police and even above the very creator of Penacony. All while chaos reigned under his (and Family’s) rule in Penacony. Within Penacony, everything’s a mess: banditry, alcoholism, shady financial dealings. Criminals hide from the hounds in the Dreamscape, and Sunday defends them, driving the hounds away. Many people work for pennies, losing any chance at a better future. And some have even been dragged back after death, turned into lifeless husks just to serve as local attractions.

Sunday knows how to act righteously, but he chooses to do things his own way instead. That’s his whole arc. He became a god (boss version) for the Dreamscape and felt zero guilt over the fact that Penacony under his rule remained a pit of sin and filth, far from any kind of paradise.

And then, we defeat him. He regrets... but only regrets losing. His remorse isn’t about what he did—it’s about being beaten. He’s ready to do it all over again, just with a different strategy.

So again, what the hell?

Why does HoYoverse give us a character like this (admittedly fascinating because he’s ridiculously stubborn, manipulative, selfish, and unhinged), only to suddenly turn him into a martyr, a lamb, and a tragic victim we’re supposed to feel sorry for? Poor Sunday, who only wanted the best but ended up dooming everyone to suffer. They’re so insistent about making us pity him that it’s disorienting. What’s the point? No one’s going to believe it. He locked his own sister in a cage, justified slavery, carried out vigilante justice, and controlled the fates of millions. No one’s going to believe he’s a victim...

Except they d i d. And that’s what pisses me off the most. People have forgotten that just a year ago, he was the thorn in everyone’s side, deliberately hurting those around him with glee. Now they call him “sunshine,” “poor thing,” “precious baby.” They wipe his tears during his ultimate move, saying he doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned, doesn’t deserve to face the consequences of his actions. Are you all out of your minds?

Why didn’t Kokolia get a chance? Why didn’t Tisok 2 get a chance? (Tisok 2 is from a side quest about a ruler whose memories were erased. In it, we’re shown that she was a tyrant before losing her memory. The NPCs ask us, “Does she deserve redemption?” And no matter what, the NPCs will yell, “No, absolutely not!” Funny. She doesn’t deserve it, but Sunday does?)

The idea that he isn’t to blame is also questionable. He and Robin grew up under the same person’s wing. Robin was constantly told her perspective was wrong, yet did she grow up as a submissive follower? No, she grew into a truly strong person capable of thinking for herself. But Sunday? He basked in the praise for his bad decisions. He’s just an overgrown brat who decided the world is his playground.

So no, I will never believe in his redemption. I will never believe he’s changed. HoYoverse can’t convince me that he’s repented or truly regrets his sins, because as long as he’s free and has done nothing for society, it’s all meaningless.

He will never have a place on my Express. The Express will never be his home. He will never stand among the people who’ve become my family.