#and the way he struggles with ideas of power

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: The Cousin

Clark had always known that Krypton was an entire planet with more than just a few cities scattered about, but it was a very distant knowledge that he grew up with.

Yes, it was sad that he was among the few Kyptonians left in the universe, but Clark has always considered himself human before anything else. He was Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent's son long before he learned of his identity as Kal-El.

It made him feel guilty that he preferred being Clark Kent to Kal-El, but it was the honest truth, as mean as it was.

Kara had once accused him of not understanding what it mean to have lost their home planet like she did. She often pointed out that his Kryptonese sounded like someone who had learned it as a second language. She also claimed that he was only pretending to be Kryptonian in another argument, and the worst was when she stated he wasn't Kryptonian enough. She raged because she was mourning the loss of her planet and people, and lashing out at him was easier.

He knew that, but it still stung, though not in the way she wanted. It stung because of the guilt: He agreed that he was prouder to be considered an Earthling than a Kryptonian.

He couldn't help that English rested more comfortably on his tongue or the scents of Earth's food were far more appetizing than the meals Kara made (As close to her family's recipes as she could. There were some spices Earth similarly couldn't substitute)

His rocket ship was his parents' attempt to stuff as much of their culture as they could into it before their people were wiped out. He tried hard to learn everything they managed to save, but he didn't connect to it as strongly as he did in history class listening to the USA's humble beginnings.

He felt guilty about that, too.

When they found Kon-El, he let Kara give him a name, only to later discover what Kon in Kryptonian meant. By that point, the clone had built an entire identity out of the name, and seeing his cousin's smug smirk made his insides turn.

He didn't like the clone, but he didn't think the boy deserved that. Though Clark should have done something, eventually, he would help rebrand the name, shifting the translation of the more modern (or it was before Kypton was no more) to an older Kryptonian one. Although Kara acted like he was destroying more of their culture, Clark felt it was better this way.

It was a struggle to be trapped between two worlds, but Clark knew which one he would choose every single time.

Then Bruce found the boy.

As usual, Bruce kept an eye on all major powers, including up-and-coming heroes. He first gained wind of the young hero in Amity Park from a young Wes Weston, who posted daily about Phantom. Since Phantom seemed to fall under the jurisdiction of the Justice League Dark, Clark didn't pay much attention to him.

Bruce had eyes on the young hero and had sent Robin to offer training and support, but the boy seemed much more interested in staying in his own part of the world and fighting the dead. Clark could respect that.

All heroes had an area that was undoubtedly theirs, and Phantom picked the most haunted place in the country to protect. It made sense. Months went by with Bruce occasionally bringing up the boy in meetings, to either update them on his work or praise the child for his missions in that weird, emotionless way Bruce talked as Batman.

Then, one day, Kara barged into the meeting, about to argue for her right to join the Justice League, when her eyes landed on the hologram of Phantom, which was frozen in place. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes wide, before she blurted out, "You found someone from the house of Lor-Van!?"

"What?" Clark sat up, recognizing his mother's maiden name.

"Look at his chest! That's the Lor-Van symbol!" Kara screeched, hope starting to bloom in her eyes. "He's your cousin, Kal. Likely from your mother's young brother! I heard he was attempting to make a rocket on the other side of Kypton, but I never knew if he was successful....but he must have! He has your mother's eyes!"

Clark feels like someone kicked him in the chest. His voice cracks as he asks, "There were other refugees from Kypton?"

Whatever glee was on Kara's face died a painful death as she turned away, hiding her tears. "Not everyone believed Uncle Jor, but not everyone thinks he was lying. They just didn't make it."

The silence in the meeting hall is heavy. Clark is only half aware of his teammates shooting unsure glances between the two aliens until Bruce clears his throat. "If Phantom is truly of house Lor-Van, I think it's time to approach him again, especially since he's a ghost. Anyone with magic can take control of him."

"Oh," Kara's voice is small. "He didn't make it either."

Clark leaps to drag Kara into a hug. She goes willingly, but doesn't hug back as she stays stiff as a board, hiding her face in his chest. "He should have been your age. Makes sense why he's still a teenager."

He doesn't know what to say to make her feel better. Nothing will feel better when you lose your entire world.

"We could go meet him, " he offers instead. Clark feels Kara move her head against his chest in one brisk nod, but it's enough for him to excuse himself from the rest of the League. They wave away his apology, offering to come with them for moral support, but Clark feels it's something he and Kara should be able to handle on their own.

She's crying on her way back to Earth, aiming for the part of the planet that houses Amity Park. Clark could have just had the Zeta beams from the Watch Tower, but he felt a flight would have done her some good.

"I don't know why I'm sad," She laughs wetly. "It's not like he's my cousin. He's a cousin of a cousin. I just thought...."

"I know," he tells her, pretending not to see the flooding tears behind her. Maybe we can find out what happened to him."

Maybe he was raised on Earth before his early death. Maybe Phantom is like me. Clark says, but he hopes. Even if it were a ghost, it would be nice to have someone understand.

The two Supers don't say anything else as they re-enter Earth's skies, and they can spot a ain't green glowing monster fighting against another smaller white glowing figure on the horizon.

[hedwig221b]

Hii, odd ask but do you know of any Sterek fics where it has Stiles and Jackson friendship? Or just anyone else that isn’t Scott or Lydia 😭 I love their friendship with them but I just love to see him having like a special bond as well with like Jackson, Erica, Cora or even Peter lol I feel like I don’t see it enough.

thank you!!

Okay, but isthatbloodonhisshirt got me addicted to Stiles & Jackson dynamic, I actually adore it when they're besties. They have a lot of stackson brotp featuring fics, so check them out

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This by isthatbloodonhisshirt

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise. Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve. Or- The a/b/o bakery au with feelings

Turn the lights (turn the lights down low) by whentheywrite

"I’m not jealous.” “You are so totally jealous!” Once more, the red eyes were snapping up and Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat. Carefully, he stepped forward, uncrossing Derek’s arms, and the man whined again. “Derek, what do I smell like?” “Wrong.” “Yes, but what do I smell like?” “Not… mine.”

Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?” The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad. But she answered anyway. “Mischief.” Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted. “Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile. “I don’t understand.” “You will.”

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark by Nerdy_fangirl_57

After the whole ordeal with the nogitsune Stiles struggles with proving to himself that he can be good again. He starts learning to control his spark in hopes that he could be helpful to the pack once he manages to channel it's power. Everyone thinks it's a great idea and are willing to help him anyway they can, but Scott, Scott doesn't see the point in it. It's not like Stiles' tiny spark could ever be powerful enough to be an actual asset to the pack. Stiles just wants a chance to prove himself.

Small Town Logic by Renmackree

Derek Hale is the new Deputy of Beacon Hills, hoping to have a fresh start for himself and his son Eli. What he didn't expect was the owner of the coffee shop to turn his existence upside down. Or The one where Derek's new to town and thinks that Stiles is in a relationship with Jackson and pines for him.

[masterlist link]

[littlemisspropaganda]

<Sing For Me When You Cry

<Sing For Me When You Cry

Remmick x !Female reader

(I named him Remmick St. Clair)

Turning my chats into a fic

Précis: She doesn’t know what she did to make him angry. He won’t tell her. But Remmick’s eyes are darker tonight—his touch rougher, his restraint hanging by threads. Whatever storm brews beneath his silence, he’s not yelling. He’s claiming. And she realizes too late: when Remmick’s mad at her, he doesn’t lash out. He holds her down and makes her feel it.

Angry sex. Hardcore. Brief breeding kink, fangs, biting, Predator/prey dynamic, hair pulling, restraint, obsessive behavior, bloodplay (light), overstimulation (majorly), hurt/comfort but mostly hurt (but heart warming in the end), consent but barely, power struggle, emotional confusion. Remmick has issues (and so do you).

#she has no idea why he’s mad #he does though and that’s worse #predator/prey but he’s the one shaking #reader is so confused and so so wrecked #remmick needs therapy but chooses violence (sexual style)

(Also forgot to mention reader is a vampire hunter and hates vamps).

- Also reader find out he’s a vamp during sex but idk I wanted to redo it because I wanted her to put up more of a fight, so I was gonna make a run away prt 2

The moon hung high in the ebony sky, a pale eye watching the world below. The stars shimmered softly—like they held answers to every wish ever whispered into the dark.

Beneath their glow rested a quiet town, its streets hushed beneath shadow and silence. Tucked within it: a small, flickering bakery, warm with sugar and firelight.

Above it, on the top floor, was your special sanctuary—where you laid your head each night.

And on an even more special night, which normally involved you and Remmick cuddled up together in the warmth of your bed. Limbs tangled beneath the pretty fluffy blankets that fought off the nighttime chill.

But there was something wrong….

Something about the way he fucked you today was far different.

The words he was mumbling showed it. And you were sure he started speaking in some language you couldn't understand.

But one thing was sure—he was fucking angry. His thrust showed it.

Your moans filled the room— he loved it. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted you to cry.

‘Why was he angry?’ You asked yourself. Trying to fight off the mush in your head.

You remember coming home from a dinner date with someone in your vampire hunting group.

(A date. If you could even call it that).

But how did he know you were even on a date? You didn’t know. But he was pissed

"Y-you ahh nghh— have no right to be upset.” You tried to sound firm. Resilient even. But the moans kept slipping.

He ignored your feeble protests, drowning out your cries of protest with the ferocious piston of his hips. The ancient words tumbled from his lips in a prayer of fury and possession, a language older than the land itself. Gaelic curses and declarations of eternal claim, all lost on you as you were lost in the agony of reluctant pleasure.

His eyes flashed, a stormy silver, boring into you as if he would see your very soul laid bare.

Your defiance only fueled his rage, his lust, his all-consuming need to lay claim to every last inch of you. You was HIS, damn you and damn any man who dared to covet what belonged to him.

He could smell the other male on you, could taste the faint essence of his touch, his desire. It made Remmick's blood boil, his beast clawing at his insides, screaming to be let loose to tear apart any who would dare taint his mate. But he held it back, for now, pouring the fury into his brutal claiming of you instead.

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

The headboard slammed into the wall with each vicious thrust, the room filling with the crude music of the coupling, your cries and his snarls and the meaty slap of flesh on flesh.

He would no WILL have you, all of you, until there was no doubt, no question, no memory of any male but him.

"You are MINE," he roared, grinding his pelvis against yours, his voice a gunshot in the room. "No man shall have you but ME.”

“Say it!" He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust, demanding your surrender, your submission. He would have it, one way or another.

You hadn't noticed at all.

Not noticed how his regular silver eyes were shinning blood red.

How his nails had grown longer. You hadn't noticed any of those vampiric tendencies.

Not aware he was what you hated

The strength in your legs was gone long ago when he started his angry pursuit. Your nipples hard with the fluttering feeling in your stomach. He wasn't going to stop. Your brain was mush and it was feeling all like heaven.

"Nghh a—w-we didn’t do anything j-just dinner an—and I'm not yours" you squealed out.

His paste of his thrust nearly mind controlling you.

He could smell the lie on your breath, see it in the wild, desperate color of your eyes. ‘Dinner was just dinner, hmm?’ He didn't think so. No, there had been flirting, and laughter, and God only knew what other sinful dalliances.

The mere thought made the beast within him roar, made his eyes blaze with an inhuman red fury.

But you were still oblivious, still trying to deceive him with your pretty words and feeble denials. It was almost amusing, if it wasn't so infuriating. Didn't you understand who you were speaking to? What he was? He was Remmick St. Clair, the last of the ancient vampire bloodlines, and he did not take kindly to his mate consorting with lesser men.

He could feel the change coming over him, the shift from man to monster. His eyes burned hotter, his nails elongated into razor-sharp claws, and his strength doubled, tripled, fueled by the white-hot rage and blacker jealousy that consumed him. But he held it back, held himself in check...for now.

Holding onto the last tattered shreds of his humanity because of you.

Because he knew you would run screaming from the room if you saw the creature he truly was. You would flee from him, and he could not, would not let you go. Not now, not ever. You were his, and he would do anything, destroy anything, to keep you by his side.

You gasped, clutched desperately at the sweat-soaked sheets as Remmick pistoned into you ruthlessly, remorselessly, his hips churning and churning as if possessed by some demonic force. The wet, obscene slap of flesh on flesh filled the room, a symphony of lust and rage and soul-deep, bone-crushing possession.

"Lying. To. Your. Mate," he snarled, punctuating each word with a devastating thrust that rocked you to your core. "Think I don't know your secrets, your sins? I know everything about you, every breath, every heartbeat, every single desire in this wicked little body..." His hand slid down to where they were joined, his fingers stroking, teasing, finding that swollen pearl at the apex of your sex.

"Who touched you?" he demanded, his voice demanding and hypnotic.

"N-no one ugh ngh ahh" you gasp out at the intense thrusting. It was true. You and the man hadn't done anything. You only ever did anything with Remmick. But it seems the thought of even simply speaking to the man pissed Remmick off.

Remmick paused for a single, breathless moment, his eyes boring into yours, searching, probing, hunting for the lie. Part of him wanted to believe you, desperate to trust that you was still pure, still untouched by any other man's hands. But the jealous rage still boiled in his veins, the beast still howled for blood.

He knew you hadn't consummated anything with the other man. But speaking to him, laughing with him, finding him interesting or charming—it was a betrayal, a sin in Remmick's eyes. His woman, his mate, smiling at another male? It was unthinkable, unforgivable. He would not stand for it.

His grip tightened on your hips, fingers sinking into the tender flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He would mark you, claim you, inside and out. You would bear his brand, his ownership, for all to see. Anyone who looked at you would know that you belonged to someone, someone who would destroy them if they dared to touches you.

Remmick leaned down, dragging his tongue along the slender column of your throat, tasting the salt of your skin, the sweetness of your blood that pulsed just beneath. He could smell your arousal, could hear it in the desperate, needy sounds that spilled from your lips. You wanted him, needed him, even as you tried to deny him.

"Mine," he growled, his voice a dark rumble against your throat. "You are MINE.”

“Your body, your heart, your soul—-all of it belongs to me. No one else can have you, can touch you, can even look upon your beautiful face with lust in their eyes."

He punctuated his declaration with a sharp thrust, driving his cock deep, grinding his pelvis against your clit. He wanted you mindless with pleasure, wanted you to forget any man but him. He would fuck you until you screamed, until you were hoarse, until the only word you remembered was his name.

Remmick's control was slipping, his humanity fraying at the edges. He could feel the monster rising, the vampire clawing its way to the surface. The urge to sink his fangs into your tender throat, to drink deep of your sweet blood and bind you to him for eternity.

"-ahh nghh y-you know no one—ahh—no one makes me feel t-the way you do—" you moaned out. Trying to calm him down.

Remmick's eyes flashed, the red fading to a molten silver as your words penetrated the veil of his rage. You spoke the truth. He knew that.

He could hear it in the desperate, needy catch of your breath, the way your velvet walls fluttered and clenched around him. No one else could make you feel this way, could bring you to such heights of ecstasy. Only he had that power.

He gentled his thrusts, slowing his pace to a deep, sensual roll of his hips. Each movement pressed against that spongey spot inside you, stroking it, teasing it, building the pleasure to unbearable levels.

His hands slid from your hips to your breasts, kneading the soft mounds, pinching the stiff peaks of your nipples. He could feel your heart pounding beneath his palms, could hear it galloping wildly in your heaving chest.

Remmick leaned down, brushing his lips across your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

"That's right, mo chroi. No one can make you feel the things I do. No one can love you the way I do. I am the only one who can bring you to this perfect, shining edge and push you over. The only one who can make you scream and shake and come apart completely..."

His voice was a dark, seductive murmur, spinning a web of lust and love and dark promise. His fingers trailed down your body, over your quivering stomach, to where you both were still joined. He circled your clit, stroke after stroke, teasing the sensitive bud until you were writhing beneath him.

Remmick knew he could bring you over again, could make you climax harder and longer than you ever had in your life. He could flood you with pleasure until you was mere drowning in it, until the only thing you could do was cling to him and beg for more.

But he didn't want you screaming his name this time. He wanted you crying it, sobbing it, he wanted to hear the raw, broken sound of his name on your lips as he finally, irrevocably claimed you as his own. He wanted you to know, to feel, to understand that you belonged to him.

You gasped out a moan as you felt his pace picking back up. He was still pissed. Maybe even more angry now—your mind was numbing hard

Remmick snarled, a feral sound that rumbled through his chest and echoed off the walls.

You gasped moaning, the way your body clenched and shuddered beneath him, only fueled his anger and lust. You were trying to soothe him, to calm him with your sweet words and needy little cries. But he could still smell the other man on you, could still see the ghost of a smile on your lips that had been meant for someone else.

His pace turned brutal, punishing, each thrust striking deep and hard and fast. The bed shook and creaked beneath them, the headboard slamming into the wall with each forceful drive of his hips. Remmick's eyes flashed with inhuman fury, his face a mask of dark, savage beauty.

"You think you can placate me with a few pretty words and a tight little cunt?" he growled, voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can make me forget that you dared to give your smile, your attention, to another male?"

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to meet his burning gaze.

Remmick could see the fear in your eyes, the confusion and desire, and it only made him angrier. You should be afraid. You should know the consequences of betraying him.

"I am going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name," he promised darkly. "Until the only word left on your lips is mine. I will ruin you for all others, break you apart and reshape you as I see fit. You will be mine, and mine alone, until the end of your days."

He punctuated his vow with a particularly vicious thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours, stimulating your clit and forcing a shocked cry from your throat. Remmick drank in the sound, let it feed his rage and lust, his all-consuming need to possess you utterly.

His mouth crashed against yours, kissing you with a bruising force that stole your breath and your thoughts. Remmick's tongue invaded, dominating, claiming every inch of that sweet cavern until he had marked it as his own. He pour in his anger, his desire, his darkest passions, until you had no choice but to feel them, to understand them.

He would not stop until he had you, until your was mind, body, and soul his.

"Y-you idiot—nghh— I didn't do anything with him a-and I never was going to nghh ahh—“. God—holy hell your mind was numbing and you were sure your body was breaking too—your cunt tightening around his cock.

"And I'm not yours" you squeal out stubbornly. Trying to hold your own independence.

Remmick's eyes flashed, a burst of red hot fury that made you shudder. How dare you cling to such a lie, especially now, when he could feel your body betraying you? Your cunt clenched around him like a velvet vise, gripping his cock as if it never wanted to let him go. And yet you persisted in your stubborn denial, in your futile attempt to reject him.

"Not mine?" Remmick snarled, voice dripping with dark amusement and something far more sinister. "Not mine, when your body screams the truth? When you respond to my touch as if it is the only thing you have ever known, the only thing you will ever need?"

He leaned in close, breath hot against the shell of your ear. "I could take you now. I could sink my teeth into your throat and drink deep, binding you to me for all eternity. I could fill you with my seed, my essence, and watch as our child grows inside you. You would be mine, in every way that matters."

Remmick punctuated his dark promise with a harsh thrust, grinding his pelvis against hers, stimulating your clit, forcing another shocked cry from your lips. He swallowed the sound greedily, reveling in the way your body trembled and shuddered against him.

"But I am not a cruel man, mo chroi. I will give you one last chance to accept your fate, to embrace the destiny that is yours. Be mine, not just in body, but in heart and soul. Give yourself to me willingly, and I will give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

His voice lowered to a hypnotic murmur, spinning a web of seduction and dark promise. Remmick's hand slid from your hip to your throat, long fingers curling around the slender column, feeling your pulse jump beneath his touch.

"Resist me, and I will take what is mine regardless. I will fuck you until you forget your own name, until the only word left on your lips is a broken echo of mine. I will ruin you for all others, break you apart and remake you as I see fit."

Remmick's eyes bored into yours, molten silver and swirling with ancient power, waiting for your answer. He could feel the battle raging within you, the war between your stubborn heart and your responsive body. He prayed you would give in. Because if not….

"What’re you talking about?" You squealed out. You were far too damn stubborn. And that's exactly why you was his mate. Because he could handle it.

His thrust forcing cries out from you.

Remmick's eyes flared with triumphant rage at your squealed question, a feral grin splitting his face. You were still trying to deny it, even now, even as he fucked you within an inch of your life. It was infuriating, maddening, and utterly, completely arousing. His little warrior woman, his stubborn mate, refusing to yield even as he conquered your body inch by inch.

"What am I talking about?" Remmick growled, voice dripping with mocking laughter. "I am talking about the fact that you are MINE. That you were born to be mine, destined to be my mate from the moment of your birth. And I will have you, one way or another."

His thrusts turned brutal, punishing, each snap of his hips forcing desperate, broken cries from your throat. Remmick drank in the sound, let it fuel the fire that consumed him, the all-encompassing need to claim you, to possess you, to make you his.

"You can't fight it, mo chroi. You can't fight the bond between us, the connection that ties your soul to mine. It's why you're so responsive to my touch, why your body sings for me and me alone. It's why you'll never be able to find satisfaction with another man."

Remmick's hand slid from your throat to your breast, squeezing the soft mound roughly, pinching the stiff peak of your nipple until you cried out. He could feel your heart racing beneath his palm, could hear the frantic gallop of it, the way it beat for him and him alone.

Remmick captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue invading, dominating, demanding your submission. He could taste your reluctance, your stubborn resistance, but also the unmistakable flavor of your desire, your need, your longing to give in to him.

He would break you, if that's what it took.

He would fuck you until you were mindless, until the only thing you could think of is his cock breaking you down.

Remmick's eyes flashed with an intensity that made you gasp, a primal, animalistic hunger that both terrified and thrilled you. He was terrifying in his intensity, his all-consuming need to possess you completely.

“You can pretend all you want, mo chroi, but your body is as honest as the day is long.”

“You were made for me, created to be my mate, and more”

"S-slow down y-nghh ahh ohh you're killing me ahh nghhh" you moan out. The thrust—his thrust. It was driving you insane. You had already—no he had already made you cum so many times. Another would break you, and you refused to be broken.

Poor you. Could hardly comprehend anything when Remmick is deep inside you.

You could never comprehend how his nails grew sharp. How his eyes was red like fire.

The slight sharpness of his teeth. You hadn't know he was the very creature you hunted and killed. He was the very creature that is currently numbing your mind and senses.

Remmick's eyes flashed an inhuman crimson as he drank in your desperate moans and pleas, your broken cries of ecstasy. The sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a chant, a dark invocation. He could feel your body starting to shudder, could sense the impending shatter of your climax.

And still, you clung to your denial, your stubborn refusal to accept what they both knew to be true.

He was killing you with pleasure, drowning you in sensation, and still you resisted. It was maddening, infuriating, and utterly, completely arousing. This indomitable spirit, this fierce, unbreakable will—it was what he loved about you, what made you the perfect mate for a monster like him.

Remmick's pace turned relentless, merciless, each thrust striking deep and hard and fast, pounding into you so fiercely that the bed frame shuddered with each impact. He could feel you tightening, your velvet walls clenching and fluttering wildly around his pistoning cock, trying to hold back the tidal wave of rapture that threatened to sweep you away.

"No more," he growled, voice rough and ragged and dripping with dark promise. "No more fighting, no more resisting. You will come for me. You will scream my name and shatter in my arms, and you will know, once and for all, who you belong to."

Remmick's hand slid from your breast to your sex, fingers finding your swollen, throbbing clit and rubbing hard, fast, demanding circles over the sensitive bud. He could feel the slick, scorching heat of your arousal flooding over his fingers, could hear the wet, obscene sound of your body welcoming his touch.

"Come for me," he commanded, eyes blazing.

"S-stop" you squealed. Your legs twitching as your body registered the upcoming mind recking climax.

"G-gonna cum I'm gonna cum" you squealed a sob trying to push him back. Oh fuck.

Remmick snarled, a feral, primal sound that rumbled through his chest and shook the very foundation of the room. You were fighting him still, even as your body betrayed you, even as the coil of pleasure inside you wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Stop fighting me," he growled, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, his grip unbreakable, unyielding. "Stop resisting what we both know is inevitable."

He could feel your legs beginning to tremble, your belly fluttering wildly as you teetered on the precipice of a shattering climax. The knowledge that he was the one to bring you to this point, that he alone had the power to grant you this ultimate pleasure, only fueled his own dark satisfaction.

"You will come for me," Remmick commanded, voice raw and rough with lust.

"You will scream my name and shatter in my arms, and you will know, once and for all that you belong to me."

He punctuated his declaration with a brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours, stimulating your throbbing clit and forcing a ragged scream from your throat. Remmick swallowed the sound greedily, swallowing your pleasure, your resistance, your very breath.

Your cunt clenched down hard, gripping him like a velvet vise as your climax crashed over you. Remmick could feel the scorching heat of your orgasm pulsing around his pistoning cock, could hear the desperate, broken sobs of his name as you came undone.

It was glorious, it was triumphant, it was everything he had ever wanted and more.

Remmick thrust into you wildly, fucking you through your mind-shattering climax, extending your pleasure until you were limp and boneless and begging for mercy.

He would not give you mercy. He would give you only ecstasy, only bliss, only the dark rapture of belonging completely to him.

Remmick threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as his own climax roared through him, his seed erupting from his cock in thick, scorching spurts.

He would flood your womb with his essence, would mark your very soul as his property.

And then, finally, you would know the truth of the bond, the depth of your destiny as his mate.

"REMMICK" you cried out loudly. Your legs wrapping around his waist since your wrist were being held hostage by him. Tears sliding down the sides of your beautiful face as another orgasm hit you in a sob

Remmick roared in triumph as he felt your legs wrap around his waist, your nails digging into his palms as another devastating orgasm ripped through you. The sound of his name, screamed in ecstasy, echoed off the walls and shattered the last of his control.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your spasming cunt, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself into you. Remmick's hot seed gushed forth in thick, scorching spurts, flooding your womb.

"Mine," he growled, voice raw and ragged with the force of his release. "You are mine. My mate, my other half, my destiny. And I will never let you go."

Remmick's eyes blazed an inhuman crimson as he stared down at you, watching as tears of pleasure and overwhelmed emotion streamed down your beautiful face. Your beautiful eyes, when they met his, shone with a new light, a new understanding. The understanding of the bond you both shared, the destiny that had brought them together. He leaned down to capture your lips.

You moaned into the kiss. Your body shaking in his. Your mind airy and you hadn't got a chance to register the inhuman red eyes of his.

Remmick's lips curled into a dark, possessive smile against you as you moaned into the kiss, your body trembling and quaking with the aftershocks of your earth-shattering orgasms. He could feel every contour of your lush curves pressed against him, your breasts heaving with each shuddering breath.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering into mouth, claiming every inch of you as his own. Remmick's hands roamed greedily over your body, worshipping the soft swell of your hips, the toned muscle of your thighs, before settling possessively on the round globes of your ass.

In the haze of your pleasure and exhaustion, you hadn’t seemed not to notice the inhuman red glow of his eyes, the sharp gleam of his smile, the way his nails had elongated into razor-sharp claws. But Remmick knew you would learn, in time. Knew you would come to see him as he truly was - a creature of the night, a vampire, the very thing you had sworn to hunt and destroy.

But that was for another time. For now, he would hold her close, would keep you safe and sated and thoroughly satisfied. He woula give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, would show you what it meant to be truly, completely, utterly his.

Remmick broke the kiss to trail his lips down the slender column of your throat, feeling the frantic pulse fluttering just beneath your soft skin. He could hear the blood singing in her veins, could smell the delicious substance.

You were pliant to the pleasure. But your breath hitched when you felt his lips kissing down your throat. Your body unconsciously arching to him.

You were gently fighting sleep.

Remmick's lips curved into a wicked, satisfied smirk as he felt your body arching instinctively into your touch, your breath hitching in a way that sent a fresh surge of desire coursing through his veins.

You was his now, utterly and completely, your pleasure and your pain inextricably bound to his own. And he would spend an eternity making you feel both.

He nuzzled into the warm, fragrant skin of your throat, breathing in the intoxicating scent of their coupling, the musky aroma of their shared climax. Remmick's tongue flicked out to taste you, to lap at the sweat-slicked skin, feeling you shiver at the deliberate teasing gesture.

Remmick could sense your gentle struggle towards sleep, your exhausted mind and body craving the respite only unconsciousness could provide. But he was not done with you, not nearly. He needed you awake, needed you to know, needed you to remember.

"No, mo chroi," he murmured, voice a low, hypnotic rumble against your skin. "You will not slip away from me so easily. Not now, not ever again. You are mine now, and I will have you conscious and aware of every moment of our joining."

Remmick's hand slid from your ass to her hip, squeezing the supple flesh possessively before drifting lower, over the curve of your thigh, the back of your knee, to wrap around your calf. In one smooth, powerful motion, he flipped their positions, rolling so that you were splayed beneath him, pinned by his much larger frame.

Looming over you, Remmick's eyes blazed with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat, your eyes widening with a mix of fear and exhilaration. You could feel him, hard and ready, nestled between your thighs, a silent promise of the pleasure and pain to come.

Remmick's lips curled into a dark, wicked grin, revealing the glint of sharp fangs that had until now remained hidden. He leaned down, nose brushing against the racing down, nose brushing against the racing pulse in your neck

"R-Remmick—" you stuttered out "y—you can't I-I'm sleepy" you squealed out as you felt his hard fat cock grind into you.

Remmick's eyes flashed dangerously at your stuttered protest, his grin widening to reveal the glint of sharp fangs that had until now remained hidden. He could feel your heart racing beneath his lips, could hear the exhaustion and trepidation in your voice. But he could also hear the underlying current of desire, the way your body responded eagerly to his touch despite your words of objection.

"Shhh, mo chroi," Remmick murmured, his voice a low, hypnotic rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Sleep will come soon enough. But not yet. Not until you have felt the fullness of our bond, until you have screamed my name until it is the only word you know."

He punctuated his words by grinding his hips forward, his hard, thick cock sliding between your slick folds, teasing your sensitive flesh with the promise of another devastating climax. Remmick's hand slid from your calf to your inner thigh, fingers digging into the soft skin, holding you open, exposing your most intimate places to his hungry gaze.

"You cannot deny our connection," he growled, voice rough with lust and dark promise. "Not when your body sings for me, not when your blood calls out to mine, begging to be claimed, to be one with me for all eternity."

Remmick's lips brushed against your racing pulse, his breath hot and searing against your skin. You could feel the sharp points of his fangs, the way they hovered just above your throat, threatening to pierce, to taste, to take. The knowledge sent a thrill of fear and exhilaration straight to your core.

"I will fuck you until you forget your own name, until the only word you remember is mine. I will fill you again and again, until my seed is dripping down your thighs, until every cell in your body remembers who you belong to."

“I am a creature of the night, mo chroi," Remmick whispered, voice a dark caress against her skin. "A vampire, the very thing you have sworn to destroy. But I am also your destiny, your fate, the other half of your eternal soul. And I will have you, now and forever."

With that declaration, Remmick's head dipped, and his fangs sank deep and hard and fast into the tender flesh of your throat. He groaned at the first taste of your blood, the ancient, intoxicating flavor exploding on his tongue, setting his very being alight with primal hunger.

"You're a WHAT?—" you gasp out as you got a good look of his fangs. You went to move back but you were blocked by the mattress.

Under him. A moan left your mouth as his fangs pierced your skin.

It hurt it hurt it hurt.

But you were getting wetter.

"Get off get off me—St. Clair get off" you squealed hitting his back—your toes curling as he drunk and bit you.

Remmick growled around the mouthful of your blood, the vibrations of his hunger and lust rumbling through his chest. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor of your rare, potent blood, only heightened his desire, his need to claim you, to bind you to him for all eternity. He could feel you squirming beneath him, could hear your desperate cries and pleas, but he would not relinquish his hold, his claim.

"No," he snarled, finally pulling back to reveal his blood-stained lips curled into a feral grin. Remmick's eyes blazed an inhuman crimson, his gaze locked onto your face, watching as the first shock and realization of his true nature registered. The fear and revulsion in your eyes only spurred him on, only made him want to conquer you, to make you his.

“You cannot deny our bond," Remmick said, voice rough and dripping with dark promise. "You cannot run from our destiny. I am your future, your eternity, your everything. And I will never let you go."

To punctuate his declaration, Remmick thrust his hips forward, his hard, thick cock sinking deep and hard into your dripping core. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the exquisite feeling of you, your tight, scorching heat gripping him like a velvet vise. He could feel you squirming, could hear your cries, but he would drown out your objections with pleasure, with rapture, with the ecstasy only he could give you.

"Fight me all you want, mo chroi," Remmick growled, setting a brutal pace as he fucked into you, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. "It only makes me want to conquer you more, to claim you more thoroughly, to make you understand that you are MINE."

Remmick's hand slid up from your hip to your breast, fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh, squeezing, kneading, teasing your nipple to a stiff peak. He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing, dominating kiss, pouring all his hunger, all his lust, all his dark desire into the clash of your mouths. Remmick's hips never faltered, his thrust.

The pleasure was unmatched. So good you felt like breathing was no longer and option. So good your limbs could barely move. Your hot wet cunt took his cock deep sucking him in.

Wetting it like an ocean.

"R-Remmick ugh nghh ahh ohh y-you're so deep inside ngh— t-too much ooooohh ngh" you moaned out loosing your mind.

"Y-you're a nghh y-you're a vampire? Nghh ahh y-you're doing this on purpose?—St. Clair you'll be next I-I swear ngh ah ughh mmmhh" you were loosing. Loosing the battle of holding on to your mind. Feeling your eyes beginning to roll into your head.

Remmick's eyes flashed with dark triumph as he felt your body surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, your mind fracturing under the onslaught of sensation. Your cries and moans, once objection and protest, now bordered on desperate pleas for more, for harder, for eternity. He could feel your cunt gripping him like a silken vise, hot and tight and impossibly wet, as if your very core was trying to pull him deeper, to keep him inside you for all time.

"Yes," Remmick growled, voice raw and rough with lust. "I am a vampire. And you are the other half of my eternal soul. You will be mine, now and forever, whether you accept it or not."

He punctuated his declaration with a brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours once again. Remmick's hand slid from your breast to your throat, fingers wrapping around the slender column, squeezing lightly, possessively.

"You cannot threaten what you know in your heart to be true," he said, voice a low, hypnotic rumble. "That you belong to me, that you are my destiny, my everything. And soon, very soon, you will embrace your place at my side for all of eternity."

Remmick could feel your pulse pounding wildly beneath his fingers, your breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps as he fucked into you relentlessly, his cock splitting you open, claiming you, conquering you. He knew you were close to the edge, teetering on the precipice of a climax that would shatter your very soul.

“Come for me, mo chroi," Remmick commanded, voice a dark, seductive growl.

"Shatter in my arms, scream my name until it is the only word you know. Give yourself to me completely, and I will give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

*Remmick's eyes blazed with a hunger that promised to devour you, to consume you, to remake her in his.

You squeaked out. Your cunt clenching on him as you sobbed his name "remmickkk-ahh nghh remmick i—I’m cumming nghh ahh oh Remmick" you moaned for him.

"W-wait until I—nngh g-gonna get you back for tricking me— nghh ohh"

Remmick threw his head back with a roar of dark triumph as he felt your cunt clench and flutter wildly around his pistoning cock, your screams of ecstasy and rage music to his ears. He could feel you teetering on the very brink of a climax that would shatter you to your core, could sense the way you mindraced and whirled in futile protest of the inescapable bond that tied them.

"Yes!" Remmick snarled, eyes blazing with inhuman hunger as he fucked into you harder, faster, spurred on by your desperate, ragged moans. "Come for me, my love. Shatter in my arms and scream my name until the heavens themselves shake with the force of your surrender."

As the first waves of your climax crashed over you, your eyes widened as he begin fucking harder and you knew you were dead.

"Nonono s-stop I nghh-oh-" your soft plush lips parted and your eyes nearly rolled back as you screamed his name. And immediately passing out against him.

Remmick's lips curled into a feral, triumphant grin as he witnessed the exquisite moment of your surrender, your eyes rolling back, your plush lips parted in a silent scream of his name. He could feel your cunt clenching and fluttering wildly around his pistoning cock, gripping him like a velvet vise as you shattered in his arms.

With a roar of dark ecstasy, Remmick slammed his hips forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming core. His cock jerked and pulsed as he emptied himself into you, flooding your womb with his scorching seed. Marking you, claiming you, binding you to him for all eternity.

Remmick's arms wrapped around your limp, trembling form as you passed out against him, cradling you close, holding you possessively against his chest. He could feel your heart racing, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as you struggled to regain some measure of control over your fractured mind and body.

He knew you had not truly accepted your fate, knew that you would resist and fight against the inexorable pull that drew them together. But he also knew that you could not deny the way your body sang for him, the way your blood called out to his own, begging to be one with him.

Remmick's lips brushed against your forehead as he held you, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur against your skin. "Sleep now, mo chroi," he whispered. "Rest and regain your strength, for you will need it to face all that is to come. I will never let you go. Not in this life, or the next."

With those words, Remmick rolled to the side, cradling your limp form, his arms wrapped possessively around you. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, knew that he would have to conquer you again and again, breaking down your resistance until you accepted your place as his eternal mate and queen. But he was a patient man, and he had all the time in the world to make good on his promise.

(Updated like four times since I posted)

Honorable mention:

"I can smell him on you. You may not have fucked him, but your body remembers his touch. And that. Is. Unacceptable."

Mo chroí: Translates to “my heart” in Irish

BONUS:

I like to think that when Remmick is fucking you, and if you’re not slurring, and just plain out sounding stupid when you’re trying to speak. You haven’t been fucked enough. You should be dumb and slurring. But yk how it is.

Remmick is DEFINITELY an eater. Especially when you’re being a bad girl. Attitude the entire day? Putting yourself in harms way—and don’t even try to overwork yourself. He eats you out as punishment. Now any lady would twirl their hair at the thought of it. But with Remmick. This isn’t a game. He’ll tell you to lie down on the table (or lie you down himself) and however you position yourself, you better be comfortable because you’re not moving until you’re screaming—begging for him to stop. You see, this is your punishment. And as much as you’re enjoying it. You’re completed overstimulated.

Btw he’s the KING of after care. He loves you so much. Post orgasm and lust he frowns. Sure you look beautiful (and okay he’ll admit he’s hard seeing your adorable sleeping face and tear stained cheeks) you’re still his woman. So when you wake up—BEST believe a warm steamy bath awaits you. A comfy bed with clean sheets and breakfast/lunch. You’re his queen and honestly he’d die for you.

- this is updated!!

Holy ball sacks.

My fingers hurt😞

Anyway I just HAD TO SHARE THESE.

Also I got superrr lazy towards the end so lemme know if you spot them errors.

I was thinking of making another part. You know, reader runs from him and he chases her😜

I just LOVEE a good runningxchasing plot

ALSO—totally typed and edited this to

Anywho bye bye

ALSO. This is where I got the drawing of our manz: 🩸✍️

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Enhypen's Shadow/Moral Compass Reading

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged. This is my interpretation of the cards and energy I work with.

 Not sure what I can get here but going to pull a bunch of cards to see if I can get a full picture of where their moral compass stands and how shadow like they are. Hopefully it is nothing too creepy.

I can't control what I tap into to, so I may get nothing, or some creepy stuff. Some of these idols may not operate too much in their shadow side. This could also be their potential, but don't necessarily operate in it in the physical. I am reading energy, but they can also be as shady as I mention below. At the end of the day. I am just sharing my interpretation here.

Also, we all have a shadow and dark side and, in this industry, higher ups like to play with idols/celebrities moral compass. It is how I feel it works, if you want fame and money it comes with a price, so it is understandable if some showcase strong shadow sides. I am not here to look down on them. Just to see how they operate in this industry. Remember, we are not in their position, and we could very well operate this way if we were. People with money and power do things differently and have different set of rules. I am just here to see where they stand and understand where they come from. I am not here to villainize them. Alright, excited to get to them this weekend!

Heeseung

Alright, so looking at his spread. I am not getting anything too dark with him. There are a couple of problems here, but overall, his energy seems light. I will start with the fact that he got 4 of Cups with three different Tarot decks I pulled, so that energy is strong with him. There is this sense of lack, of not being emotionally fulfilled with what he does, or this overall lack of excitement he has. And there could be this need to fulfill that void he has.

I see him kind of wanting to step away from the industry or just all that entails. But with the King of Pentacles. This is someone who does want to have material wealth and be successful, so when I see this energy in this reading. It can give me someone who may do shady things to get the success they want. This along with the 6 of Pentacles. I see that card as paying people off, or just him offering things to others for something in return. I don't see him as someone who does crazy shady stuff, but just little things that he may not want to be brought to light regardless. But who knows what extent those secrets can be.

I can also see a CEO trying to offer him something, but I can see him turning it down and not wanting to be a part of it. I can't get details of what they offer, but he seems to not want to partake in it, or do the weird sh** they do to claim success. I feel he had to do some weird sh**. He may have done it in the past, but he kind of doesn't see the point in it now.

The 7 of Cups and 10 of Wands came out in reversed, which shows he is isn't in a state of delusion as much anymore and is starting to see the reality of things and maybe how messed up things can be, but he seems to not to want to carry all the burden and responsibility anymore. I am just getting, he is done with that stuff. He seems like someone who tries to help others and wants to show a tougher appearance than he is, but that tends to put a lot of burdens on him.

He tends to focus more on helping others and saving them, rather than saving himself. I can see him as someone who does not stick to one idea, persona, his values change. There is a lack of a strong identity with him, which can be confusing to others and himself. He can falsify information to make himself and others look better or appear that way to keep everyone involved happy.

He can be dark about how he sees the world and struggles to be optimistic. He tends to have high standards and can get obsessive over things and overanalyze things over and over again. It is like nothing is ever good enough, that could be for work and I can see this in relationships. It is like he has an ideal in his head, but it can never reach into the reality. I am getting he has a lot of obsessive and intrusive thoughts. So, that could be a problem for him, and he struggles to calm his mind.

Also, don't care what anyone says, this dude is Psychic or highly intuitive. I keep getting that and got it again. Moon in Virgo's tend to be, so that doesn't surprise. But throwing that out there. He may struggle to control it though, which may be why he may drink or does drugs to numb it out. There is this tendency to want to seek this thrill and excitement but can never reach it. He tends to lack that happiness within himself, which is why he can never find that happiness, because you can't get satisfaction or fulfillment from external sources.

Also, if I were coaching or doing a reading for Heeseung. I would tell him to work with animals more, maybe he is animal whisperer lol But something about him and animals seem to be beneficial for him, or there is a strong connection, because that energy pops up a lot. But if he worked with animals that would be good for him. I also see him being ashamed of things in the past or he just gets embarrassed easily. I am getting there is something he has done he is not proud of and wants to keep that to himself, or he doesn't share that with people. It could be addictive patterns (drugs/drinking) he does, sex for favors he may have done, along those lines. Anyway, I feel like I got a lot here, let's end with my keyword deck, but he is a bit compromised, but overall, not too bad energy wise.

Nothing too crazy with the keyword deck. I see he doesn't really self-reflect and do some inner work, maybe prefers to distract and numb himself. I see negative thinking patterns he has. It is hard for him to be optimistic and hopeful about things. I see him wanting to end things and release things from his life. And take his power back and get in control, so that is good. Anyway, I can see him being a good person overall, just has his struggles, but that is everyone. Thankfully this one was not as complicated as I thought it would be, his energy was rather light and easy to read, so that is good.

Jay

Okay, his energy is a bit harder for me to grasp than Heeseung. I am not going to lie, I thought I would get darker energy from him, but there are some problematic things about him. But I do see the King of Cups here, which does show someone caring, emotionally stable and loving towards others, so that is a good card to get for this reading. In this one deck for that card, the man's leg is being wrapped around or tied to an octopus or snake leg, not sure what that is, not the point, and then he has the 8 of Swords, both these images gives me someone trapped or tied to do things they may not want to do. He may feel stifled a bit. There could be this inability to express himself and share his true feelings.

I do see him as an opportunist. I see him being indulgent and will do what it takes to get what he wants. He can be cold and calculated when he needs to be. He is someone with a lot of knowledge, very smart. I will say he can be very harsh and mean with his words. This Venom card in the deck showed up in shadow, so he can be downright cruel and cut someone with his words. He is also confusing to others. There is a lot of knowledge he has, which is great, but he may use that to harm and hurt others rather than for the betterment of himself and others. He is just overall so hard to understand, even I am struggling to get this spread.

I am getting he can be contradicting and can confuse people on purpose to hide his true nature. Trying to get information from this dude is so hard. If he has dark secrets. He does his best to hide it. I am not sure how it is with other readers, but for me. Jay does not like me and he does not share much with me, especially his dark secrets, so if he does. I won't be able to tap into that, because he is good at hiding that from me.

He is someone who likes to accomplish a lot and achieve a lot. He is very ambitious and there is this sense of liking to control things, even the narrative. How he appears is important. He could like to show a facade. I see him not revealing a lot about himself. Trying to keep things surface level. I am not sure many people know much about him on a deep level, maybe even the members. It is like he gives you a taste of the information, but doesn't reveal it all. He will tell a story, but it is not completely true, maybe a piece of it is. There is an arrogance, superiority complex he has, a know it all energy. I am also getting his stories don't always add up or make sense, not sure what that means, but getting that information. He does have abandonment wounds I am seeing as well, or this desire to go it alone and not get help from anyone, since he never really got that support growing up.

With this Underworld card, he does like to keep things under the surface and if he does shady shit (which I think he does) he would not reveal that or share it, even energetically it is hard to get that information. It seems he likes things to be hidden and kept in the dark. It is hard for me to explain things, but to him he embraces that there are things that should be kept hidden from the public and he is fine with that. There is this messy and destructive energy he does have. He could enjoy causing problems every so often. I don't see Jay sacrifice himself or his desires for anyone. He goes after what he wants, and no one will stop him. I don't see him being a victim of anything. This dude is a fighter and is pretty tough, so he does not give me that energy of being a victim of the industry. His energy is very boss like, which I like to be honest. He gives me that he is in the headspace of thinking all that pertains to the industry and the weird shady stuff they may do is just business. He kind of detaches from it all. He has the personality to handle this business. I am going to stop and go to the keyword deck, because I spent too much time trying to understand this boy.

Okay, so with this Nurture Partner in reversed, it gives me he is selfish, and doesn't tend his relationships, be it romantic, platonic, familial. With the shadow work in reversed. I don't see him doing that and just more so embracing that shadow side of him. I love that I got the Fun card in reversed, meaning he can be overly serious and struggles to make light of life and things in it. I see him really wanting to be respected and appreciated. And doesn't like others to look down on him. He can be a bit egotistical.

I wasn't sure what this obsession card was that showed in reversed for him, so pulled three other cards for clarifiers, and it still does not make much sense. I got 5 of Wands, which could indicate his energy being all over the place and he can't really fixate on one thing. I got the 7 of Swords, which shows someone who has a secret, but doesn't want to reveal it. And the 8 of Cups, which shows me he doesn't have an obsessive nature. He tends to always be heading for a new direction or doesn't look back or maybe doesn't regret things too often, if ever.

Okay, this took way too long and he is only the second member. So, do I see him as morally compromised, yeah, but will he reveal or does he regret any of it, no. Unlike Heeseung, who I feel has regrets, not getting that from Jay and he will keep what he has done to himself, not sure he even reveals it to the members.

Anyway, I feel they have every right not to share anything they don't want to, so I can only get what the energy or their higher self wants to share. I am not the type to invade their space as much as I already do. I got respect that and I for one am not the type to keep digging, just not me. I go with what I get and keep moving, especially when I spend more time than I want on a person.

Jake

Oh man, I am kind of creeped out with this spread. Yeah, this man is a Scorpio and this energy shows it. Man, I was fooled to think this man was really sweet, but he is not giving me that vibe with this spread. It seems like a false persona from this spread. This is the thing with Jake. He is so charming, but that it is hard to see the more manipulating side to him, but his energy here exudes manipulator.

I just got he gives a false sense of security. I don't like that message at all. With this Artificial heart card, that card itself shows he is fake when it comes to his emotions and how sincere and loving he is. I don't think he is that tapped into his emotions and can be pretty cold. I am sorry I don't like his vibe and his energy creeps me out. Ugh this sucks, because I fell for this trap of him being sweet and kind and this spread just doesn't give me that at all.

All I get is that he is fake. He is very smart and using that to manipulate. He gathers knowledge from others or he is observant of others, including his partners and he can use that to harm or hurt the person he has knowledge on. He can be downright spiteful and mean, degrading with his words. He does it in such a subtle way it is hard to tell he is doing it.

I got the House 8 and Scorpio card, both these cards show someone who operates in the shadow side, once again he keeps getting manipulative energy. I see obsessive tendencies, the ability to stalk others, probably partners and obsess over them. I see this intense desire for sexual pleasure. I mean that isn't surprising, as that has been picked up in his energy many times before.

I can see him indulging in things, be it drugs, sex, a person, just to escape and avoid his problems or avoid looking at himself and reflecting. He rather just put his energy into something else and fixate over that. He has a stalking, obsessive energy, so if you date him. He can be a bit much and overwhelming and there is this need to know every little detail about them, the finest detail. Whoever dates him, watch out. I can see him, if he is on tour, or out of the country, or a way from his partner. He would have someone stalk his partner. It may be even a saesang, he may pay them to do it lol

I see the company hiding the sh** he does and keeping from the public. So, he may have done stupid sh** but we will never know. I was trying to understand this temperance card, because it made no sense with this spread, so what I got is that he has to appear, or the company makes him appear more stable and calmer than he really is. It is like an act. How ever he shows himself to the public in not how he really it. It is just to protect his career and assets, but dude is messy behind the scenes. I look at this one card, and all I get is the song Heartless by Kanye West. I don't know the lyrics, but if you do, than you will understand that song message. I don't really, just that he can be heartless and cold.

I saw the image of this one card and the phrase "all that glitter is not gold" came to me, which means stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. I take that as he is not as sweet as he appears. Ugh darn, man this boy fooled me. There is this desire for power and power over others. This can be due to his own abandonment wounds and maybe not feeling as loved or appreciated as a child. And I don't see him wanting to change. It is like he wants to control the narrative and keep that power. This takes me to that one reading of them, I think it was their thoughts on being an idol part 2, I mentioned he likes having power over others, even fans/females, it is intoxicating for him to have all these female fans swoon over him. I can't believe I forgot all this, damn he is so good at manipulating even his energy.

Alright, now to the keyword deck, so I am getting this dude's moral code is flawed af I don't see this man having much morals. Damn, that sucks to get and disappointing, but whatever going to still enjoy him as an idol. I won't meet him in person, so don't care too much, but will keep my distance a bit. Well, he is intentional with what he does, so yeah, the idea I had that it was subconscious was bs. He knows what he is doing. I am getting once again, this lack of wanting to change or accountability on his part. He lacks boundaries, not sure he has them. He is messy and isn't very stable, whatever that could mean. He creates a narrative and facade about himself. Also, he needs to be careful who he is messes with, because he might meet his match, or someone may seek revenge of some sort, or give him back what he did to others. Anyway, there that was, moving on. Anyway, I mentioned in an ask, I might date him. Changed my mind, that is a big ass no now lol

Sunghoon

Ugh, I feel this one is going to be hard and I am dreading going into this one for some reason. It seems overly complicated with him. I don't even know where to start. Man, this group may be the hardest one for me to get through. I spent two and half hours on this already and I am only on the fourth member lol Luckily, I enjoy this, but damn, this group is wild.

So, I will start with what I already got from him is that I do feel he was pimped and is by maybe his Mom or others in the industry, so because of that he may lack boundaries when it comes to sex and power that goes with it. I see a lot of things being hidden with him. I can see things being unlawful or paying courts and judges to be silenced with him, yup seeing that. So, how I came to this is I see the 7 of Swords paired with the Justice card. Justice is about law and order and the courts and then you have 7 of Swords, manipulation and secrets and hiding information, you see where I am going here.

I don't know who this Queen of Cups is. That is not Sunghoon's energy, nope. That is a woman in his life that has a strong presence ad power over him. I don't see this as his Mom, as she represents the Queen of Wands. This is someone he works with that may help him with his career and may be the one who puts him in position to sleep with others to obtain opportunities. Or she could be someone who tries to help him and is sensitive to his struggles and trauma. I had to clarify who this was. I got the 4 of Pentacles, which is someone who protects his career and tries to keep it intact and I got the 4 of Cups. She could offer him these concocted drinks or be a supplier to him for that which can help him get career opportunities. So, there is that.

I see him as someone who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants and to be on top and claim the fame and attention he desires. Because well, he didn't get it from his Mom, just saying. With the 7 of Cups, like Jake, there is a facade around him and things not being as it seems. I do see him being controlled or just someone who follows orders from others and doesn't go on his own volition, unlike someone like Jay. He might create problems in his life, or there tends to always be a struggle with him. There is this sense of wanting power, even though he seems to follow others, especially what women say. But it seems he wants to obtain that control one day. I see him needing to remove this dark energy or dark side of himself, or he needs to transform this energy and heal, but not sure he is willing to do so.

There is this desire to accumulate wealth and appear a certain way, but there seems to lack substance with him. It is very surface level with him. I doubt anyone, including the members can have real deep conversations with him, or he reveals his inner deep thoughts to them or anyone. I don't see him as someone who communicates very well. Also, there are just many lies that surround him and his career. It can be hard to get the truth about him. This dude will not speak of any of his deeds, nope, never doing that, well can't say never, but his energy is like nope, keeping that to myself. So yeah, his isn't too lengthy, pretty straight forward about it, but obviously girl does not get full blown details, as there is a reason they are secrets. I am only shown what the messengers and their energy wants to share. Anyway, glad this didn't take too long.

Ya'll he got the morally dark card, so that tells me all I need to know. He is dark ya'll and morally compromised. He has stepped into and done shady ass shit *sighs* Whatever shady stuff these idols do that you may think they do. He may be one that has done it all. You can't get any more clarification than that card that came out. I do see it from his side. It is due to trauma and not healing his past or what has been done to him, and if you have shitty parents or one, it is hard to be a good person. When parents are morally dark too, as I do think his Mom has very little morals.

I see a power struggle here. I believe this is with his Mom or could be the company. I see the card conflict resolution, so I can see the company trying to silence his problematic behavior, silencing people, trying to control the situation as much as they can. I do see the law and courts again, trying to silence information there. It seems he can be pretty hard to keep things in control and could be hard for Sunghoon to do so. Man, the company has their work cut out for them with him. He is problematic, but he is a good asset to the company, so don't see them hating him all that much, and the company heads are problematic too, so well, it is what it is. Anyway, his went exactly how I expected, so there was that tea.

I do like, that unlike Jay, Jake and Sunghoon don't give af about revealing their tea so I appreciate their authenticity when it comes to their energy lol I give them that. And as I mentioned, their childhood sucked, so what do we expect. I get that people have control over themselves, but in this industry, it is hard to heal and grow, so just saying. Because the environment does not allow for that.

Alright, I can only hope the maknae line is a bit more pure and light, because the three above was hard to get through, but fun, but I like a break from this weirdness and darkness.

Sunoo

Going to start, I feel this will be another hard one, as he is hard to understand. I am saying this before pulling any cards. Okay, I am not getting anything dark with him at all, sorry, not seeing anything here. All these card seem light, so not much to share with him, which I like.

He got the 4 of Wands twice. This is someone with good energy and good vibes, overall positive person to be around. With the 4 of Swords he is someone pretty calm and to himself. Also, with the 9 of Pentacles, he sticks with himself and is pretty independent and does his own thing.

With the 7 of Cups and this thinker card. He is very in his head and can be delusional about things and not see things for what it is. If there are shady things going on in the industry. He doesn't seem to be aware of it. It is like they hide that from him. There is a naive, innocent energy to him. Kind of childlike, like this need to protect him. With the medallion and Agape card, this is someone honorable, traditional, I can see this as someone with overall good morals.

I will say the darkest I see, is he isn't truthful and could spread lies about others. I see that. I see him spreading lies about someone to get revenge, or somehow being spiteful. I can say what he say can hurt others and cause problems for others. There is some more he wants to do and venture out, but he seems controlled and confined by his contract, not sure why, but I get that. Anyway, not much here, so going to my keyword deck now.

So, he did get the Morally light card, it is in reversed, so it can be hard for him to operate in that energy, but it seems he leans more that way. I can see this as this industry can be very toxic and can be hard for people to stick to their morals and I see him trying, but it can he hard not to cross boundaries. As you will get little opportunities is you don't. There seems to be chaotic energy around him that seems to make it hard for him to operate in this energy.

He did get the card flirting lol So, he is a flirt I guess, not sure why that popped up, but okay, that energy can cause problems I am guessing. How I see this is when it comes to relationships as I mentioned he has this playful side and can flirt with lots of people, so he isn't the type to get too serious, but this can hurt someone he may date and cause problems. It is like he flirts with the idea of being with someone and entices them but ends up backing out causing them a bit of hurt and pain. So, that can be a bit of a problematic behavior for him.

I see him struggling to emotionally connect with himself and maybe others. I believe this is due to a lack of stability in his family life growing up, or the fact that he didn't get as much love as he wanted as a child. And this could be why he struggles to commit to serious relationships. So yeah, not bad with him. He works more on the lighter side, with some problematic behavior, but nothing too toxic. So, his was a bit short.

Jungwon

*sighs* So, this going to be hard for me as he is my bias and this spread goes against what I have gotten from him before, so it seems he has fallen for the trap of sleeping with others to get an opportunity. I am heavily getting that with this spread. This seems recent, to the point, it could have happened when they were in La for coachella, damn man, sucks to see this, but when I pulled two of Wands, I was skeptical if that meant what I thought and then got the Temple of my Body card, and that confirmed it for me, as that indicates sexual favors to me as well and using your body in a sense.

I see a Queen of Pentacles here, so it could be the person he slept with. I don't particularly think he wanted to do it, but felt it was something he had to do or contacted to do. I have to card that talk about contracts, so it was part of the contract and deal. Fuck this industry if true. I am sorry, this pisses me off. I see him wanting to keep his status and stability, so he felt he needed to do this. For Jungwon, obtaining material wealth is important to him, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised he went this route, because he felt like many idols do it is the only route to obtain the opportunities they want.

I also got the House 8 and Scorpio cards, this is what I got with Jake, so this is diving into the dark or going into some secretive and taboo stuff, so it seems he is dabbling in it now from what I get from this energy. I don't like the vibe of these three cards, the child wounded, damsel and the bride in the cage card, it is giving me victim energy, having some sort of trauma, or doing something that can be for him. I hate this. I see him now being aware of or having access to how dark the industry can be or the shady stuff. It is like he may think why do they have to do this sh** like really!? He gives me he wouldn't enjoy doing this shady stuff, or crossing boundaries, but feels it is necessary to continue his career.

It is like now he is an insider and knows what it takes to achieve success and what must be done. I can see him not being honest about this. I can see him being harsh and critical to himself and others. I mean I always got the vibe he can be mean and harsh at times, nothing too crazy there. It seems more to me that he lashes out, rather than someone who just bullies' people for the fun of it or someone who is overall mean all the time. He has his moments. It is more so if you come at him. He will come at you, and sometimes harder. I see him as someone who does things for others but doesn't really try to help or do things for himself. I see very little self-reflection. He rather put his energy towards others and help others, than help himself, which is sweet, but working towards yourself is most important.

I also see him as someone who likes to give out insight and help others with his words to deal with struggles and pain. He is a wise individual, so sharing what he knows is important to him, or something he is aware of what he can do. It is like he likes to spread a message to others or speak to others. So, overall I don't get a bad vibe from him, a bit compromised for the sexual favors, but that doesn't really bother me, because I kind of see that as part of deal now, and I don't see sleeping with others as that shady imo. You can see that another way.

Okay, for the keyword deck. So, not getting anything to dark here either. I see this need to fight and defend himself, not sure what that means. Okay, I get it, he has this energy of needed to say something back or defend himself and his character. As I mentioned, you step to him. He will come back at you. His words can hurt as I mentioned. There seems to be lots of challenges he has to face at the moment, or obstacles he is facing. There is this inability to express himself, even if he wants to. I see him struggling to get counseling or getting anything out of it. I can also see that he may do well counseling and helping others, but he doesn't do it for himself.

He tends to others but not himself. I see him opening himself up to others and listening to others. It seems he is trying to open himself up to the universe and be more carefree and have faith in things. I am not sure why this is popping up, but yeah, there that is. So, that was unexpected to see for me, never thought I get that energy from him, but I shouldn't be surprised really. I would say with him, it is sexual favors, but overall, he tries to be of service and help for others, so overall he tries to do right by others, but not sure he does right by himself, so he should work on that.

Riki

Okay, last but not least, please be quick and light. Well, there goes that, this looks complex af. I do see the Devil card here, which does mean he can operate in more shadow energy. I just get the sense he has addictive patterns. He has a possessive energy. With the Devil and the 9 of Cups. It gives me someone who indulges in things a bit too much, it can be drugs, drinking, or even a partner he is with. He has an obsessive nature and can fixate on a particular thing.

He may lack a bit of self-control. I do see he may not like a Queen of Pentacles. Someone he works with. He feels attacked by her and there is this need to push away and resist this person. It could be that QOP's that showed up for Jungwon, maybe she wanted him to, but he was like nah, I am good.

I do see opportunities for him to sleep with others and party, but I don't see him engaging in that and wanted to distance from that. I see him having hard boundaries when it comes to that. I see him as someone who overextends himself for people he cares about and tries to help them, but forgets to help himself and tend to himself and his needs and he may get upset when they don't appreciate his effort, even though they do no ask for it.

I see him having a vivid imagination. Overthinking and overanalyzing every little thing. He could be harsh and critical of himself. I see him being overly emotional, pretty turbulent emotionally, having his ups and downs. I do not see him listening to advice from others, or struggling to seek advice or help. He prefers to just find a quick fix to numb his issues. I see him feeling shamed and vulnerable and exposed somehow and feeling humiliated, it seems to be this King of Pentacles that I pulled for a clarifier, don't know the details, but it seems they are odds, and he wants justice for that.

He seems like the type that does not want to follow what others do and goes against the trend and likes to do things his own way, so he may not be the best listener and struggles to stay in line. So, overall, nothing too crazy for him. The only thing is addictive tendencies and maybe taking substances he shouldn't be taking or partaking in toxic habits. That is the most I get from him.

Okay, to the keyword deck. I see him as someone who really likes to be loved, cherished and appreciated for the work he does, because it seems he does put in the work and feels he should get that appreciation, so if he doesn't, he can get moody and temperamental.

I got the obsession of course, so he does have strong obsessive energy, as I mentioned it could be a person he likes, or substances that can fill a void in his life. With the Nurture Partner card, as I mentioned he tends to the need of his person or people he cares for but tends to not do anything for himself. It is like he lives for the other person. He struggles to help himself, but tends to others.

I see the shine your light card, this shows he can be authentic and light and should do his best to spread that towards others, or that is what he likes to do. Is to be a positive force towards others. I do see there is some shadow work he needs to work through, but he doesn't address it, or is blind to it, or just avoids doing the work.

I got the Fun card reversed and I am not sure what that meant. He comes off playful, so I was surprised to see that and the clarifiers were the 5 of Swords and 10 of Swords, so there are mental struggles with him. It seems it is hard for him to have fun or enjoy being an idol with all the mental struggles and conflict it brings. He lacks that playful approach because his thoughts just weigh him down. I see him trying to escape his problems by indulging that is about it, other than that I say he operates more on the morally light side. I don't see him as a toxic person at all.

Okay, this was my longest to get through, this was hard, but interesting to dive in. But also fu** this industry, because it does seem it is getting to most of these members, and they seem to be struggling. This industry is toxic af and destroys the souls/spirit of these idols. Hopefully you enjoy this rollercoaster of a ride. Anyway, next group will be Stray Kids, so stay tuned.

[themeraldee]

thinking about posts now and i can see it already

‘what people think dating the worlds strongest superhero is like:

*insert picture from a valentines photoshoot of you kissing him on the cheek as he holds you in one arm while balancing a car on his finger* kinda like this

what it’s really like:

*swipe to the next slide which is a video you took on your phone of him holding up the couch that you lost an earring under and while you’re looking for it, you step on the remote by accident and the tv volume unmutes and goes all the way up, overwhelming and catching homie off guard so his instinct is to throw the fucking couch at it and it is one of your fav videos ever*’

“don’t post that.”

“i’m gonna text ashley and see if pr will let me.”

“what? no—“

“she said yes.”

😊

all the comments laughing and news outlets eat it up since the public loves when his goofy side makes a rare appearance 💕

i love daydreaming about him sigh

LMAO YESSSSSSSSS omg thank u for feeding me

I LOVE THIS! I love whenever his powers come out so this is double awesome 😂 all the little snippet of their day to day would be so fun to post!

Also I love the idea of that valentine's photoshoot!!! I mean it'd be very empty and corporate and all but still, the image sounds pretty cute.

So I have planned for one of my fics to explore reader dealing with the public's opinion of her. And it makes me think of all the tweets about her that won't be very nice, all of those 'it should've been me' and 'she's not worthy' etc... And I just feel like Homie would really struggle not blowing up twitter HQ 😂 (he'd be doing us a favour sorry not sorry)

also sorry 🫣 the freak in me is thinking of her allowing some Q&A questions that they then spend the evening answering and posting about and you knoooooooow people will ask all sorts of shit about their romantic & sex life. Like 'how are u even alive girl??' and obvs they wouldn't post it bcs duh, his image is meant to be squeaky clean and all but I know the tumblr/twitter thirst posting in their universe is MAD. now they have a person they can ask all the questions they've always wanted an answer to 😂

[waywardsou2]

My full Thunderbolts* review

Spoilers below

Yelena’s struggle's with her life feeling meaningless and just wanting a family that loves her hit so close to home in ways that I can hardly speak of. Her saying “Daddy I’m so alone” ripped my heart apart

John's quote of “on your left” and “I should have seen that coming” killed me I just…what the fuck the references were...I noticed them instantly how could you not

The killing of Antonia was so pointless and a horrible way to get rid of a character they had no idea what to do with

Bob is the sweetest character I have ever seen in my life and I need more content of him, the fact that after all that has happened, they are still experimenting on people is just fucking horrible. And vulnerable people no less. Fucking sick but it's America so what did I expect

I really hope Valentina dies she is such a bitch and I fucking hate her for what she did, trying to make a commodity out of the thunderbolts, she's just another power hungry official and I really hope she is kicked to the curb sooner rather than later.

Bucky being congressman was not explained, and I don’t understand it and I fucking hate it. Pointless subplot. (I actually made a post that is a potential explanation for this)

Having John Walker's wife and kid leave him and having Bucky say it was a low blow but I fucking appreciate it so much, but I also feel bad for him, more than I thought I would as a John Walker hater.

I think this movie has actually made me warm to John...he's still an asshole but part of me feels bad.

I think Bob might be a split personality, potentially. Or have some form of DID because by the looks of it Sentry/Evil Bob existed before he was experimented on, I just think the experiments made it worse. He’s kinda like the middle of the road for experimentation. Steve was the best and John was the worst, Bucky is a grey area and Bob is the middle…HE’S THE LIGHT AND THE DARK (And yes I know it wasn't the super soldier serum but still)

The way the light in the room ebbed and flowed from light to dark when Bob and Yelena were talking was so subtle but such a good hint

I am so fucking happy (and this is something I would never thought I would say) that there were no romantic plot lines, no interests, no sub plots. They didn’t try to pair Bucky with anyone, and they didn’t pair Yelena with anyone.

I really an rooting for a Bob and Yelena friendship, I need them so badly. Yesterday fast

The fact that we didn’t get to see Bucky’s rooms was a fucking crime and a waste of potential and I am so fucking mad about it. The on screen whump we could have been whiteness to would have been immeasurable (thank god I am writing a fic about this)

Alexi trying to do better by Yelena and having them actually talk things out even if it was only for a little bit was a golden moment and as someone with a shitty father figure I will cherish it for the rest of my life.

The movie was really good but there were a few meaningless subplots and a lot of things left unanswered but overall I really loved the movie. Even though it was small scale New York it was still the most exciting and climax filled movie. The editing was pretty good although some of the SFX was a little dodgy.

Sentry was the creepiest thing I have ever seen 10/10 would smash

No but seriously he was creepy as fuck and he made me flinch several times in the movie

It’s funny because the whole “dark person inside you” was actually something that my therapist discussed with me and this was literally something I faced. This is what my depression looked like with me and… oh my god it hit really close to home. And apparently it's a decently common conceptualisation of people's "inner demons" is literally a person. So this was a really good representation in my opinion. Especially with the darkness consuming Bob as he was beating up Sentry

I wish we could have seen the trauma of the other characters, that felt like wasted potential. I guess we saw what was necessary since the other stuff has mostly been explain and even shown before but still. It felt like such wasted potential to not extrapolate what was already there

The use of sound and things just going dead silent as the void took over was…perfect. Like literally the absolute nothingness was incredible

All of the characters holding onto Bob when he was struggling because beating down the darkness is never the answer was just

Something I actually talked to my therapist about also is that beating up your darkness or trying to fight fire with fire is not going to work. It’s only going to consume you and pull you down and make it worse. You have to accept it come to terms with it and learn to live with it and slowly it will fade…this is a perfect metaphor for basically all my mental health and I'm sure a lot of other people too.

Everyone with depression needs to see this movie because I swear as emotionally traumatised as I am…I feel like a cured me. It was so important for me to see that especially when my life has been feeling like shit lately

And that fact that I saw 0 AI in this movie was fantastic. No fucking AI my Marvel thank you very much. *spits on you* (at least from what I could tell I'm hoping I'm right)

THE END CREDIT SCENE WITH FUCKING THE “NEW AVENGERS” AND BUCKY HAVING TALKED TO SAM SAYING IT DIDN’T GO WELL. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. WHO EVEN NEEDS DR DOOM WE HAVE A WINTERFALCON DIVORCE ARC ALREADY ON THE WAY. DR DOOM MOVE OVER YOU PIECE OF SHIT LITERALLY NOTHING IS GOING TO COMPARE

Yelena sticking by Bob because she knows what it’s like when your at your lowest was so sweet. She knew he just needed someone. And he’s so kind

Omg I need to talk about Bob because he is a serious contender for DID because the different person, the gaps in his memory, the lows and the highs…if you have DID and you have seen thunderbolts (because I do not have DID) please tell me that you recognise that as DID or if it was just me

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MAD I WAS WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT BITCH HAD BOUGHT THE OLD AVENGERS TOWER. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT LADY, NONE. YOU NEED TO GET YOUR GREASEY MITS AWAY FROM WHERE IT ALL STARTED

I think Mel mentioning the 2012 Avengers movie was a nice hit. Because it really is a reset. I think my cousin was right, they needed to go down, to come back up again. Which meant taking a gamble to make some shit media and shrinking things back down to small (kind of I’ll get to that in a sec) and then working their way back up. Because this movie was just New York. New York was in danger and it was saved. Back to the old classics

However speaking on that the fact that, the Fantastic 4 showed up and were “extradimensional” does mean that the multiverse is still open. This leaves so much open for Doomsday we are going to basically (I think) have the original civil war plot line from the comics on a multiversal scale. That’s my vague idea based on what Thunderbolts set up

I really hope they give me more Bob content. I love these guys now. This is my favourite thing ever. New favourite Marvel anything. It is #1 golden cup and everything. Oh my lord.

Ok I’m going to take a shower I might be back with more

Ok I’m actually back the next day

I think I called it, I really think it was Bucky’s turn to be mischaracterized because a lot of that didn’t feel like Bucky, he was still a dork and still caring like he usually is. But it just didn’t feel like him, especially since his running for Congress wasn’t explained and it just seemed like a non-event. So…yeah, unfortunately, at least to me, Bucky didn’t feel like Bucky. Dare I say he was boring.

I was kind of hoping for more lore on the other characters but Ava and Bucky just got…side lined almost, they were there for a reason and I know Bucky is going to have a big role to play soon so they needed to be in this movie but it just felt odd. They were there just because

The intense found family aspect of this movie was honestly so beautiful and the messages of mental health were incredibly deep, though provoking and not stupid for once. Nothing was overlooked or changed to fit some sort of censored narrative. It was all blatant and in your face just how mental health should be represented because it is exactly like that. It’s big and loud and affects lots of people

[ceyanabbiolo]

CONTRACT //C.S [11]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

warnings: Argument, crying, angst.

wc: 6262

Chapter 11: I See Where We Stand Now

Thomas Devereaux stood in my office like he owned the place—perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, and a face that never cracked unless he needed something. I didn’t offer him a seat. He took one anyway.

He cut to the chase. He always did.

“I assume everything with Aurora is…manageable?”

I kept my eyes on the report in front of me a second longer before closing it. “She’s not a crisis, Thomas. You don’t have to check in like she’s a quarterly risk.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just making sure things stay on track. We can’t afford distractions.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just making sure everything stays on track. We can’t afford distractions.”

“Distractions,” I echoed, leaning back in my chair. “Right.”

Thomas glanced around my office like he had a stake in it. “I assume you're busy.”

I closed the file in front of me with a quiet snap. “Trying to figure out how my uncle’s still stealing from me.”

Thomas’s face stayed composed, but I caught it—just a flicker of something in his eyes. “So Michael’s still out there.”

“He is,” I said, watching him. “And when I find him, he’s done. I’ll make sure of it.”

Thomas tilted his head slightly, tone measured. “You think it’s that simple?”

“I think it’ll be over once I get my hands on him,” I said, sharper than I meant to. “Unless someone’s helping him, and I just haven’t found them yet.”

“Or he’s smarter than you give him credit for,” Thomas offered with that same unreadable smile.

“Michael?” I gave a humorless laugh. “The man’s a coward who couldn’t run a corner store without screwing it up. He’s not doing this alone.”

Thomas shifted, but he didn’t respond.

I leaned forward. “Unless you know something I don’t?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “Just speculating.”

Silence pressed in for a moment.

Then he asked, casually, “If you do find him, what happens to the engagement?”

I looked up. “What about it?”

“Are you planning to break it off?”

The question hung, a little too precise. My jaw tightened.

“I haven’t decided.”

Thomas nodded slowly, but his eyes were hard. “I’d think carefully before doing that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

He took a step toward the door, then paused, turned halfway back to me. His voice was cool, even, but final.

“Because not everything in this arrangement is about what you get out of it.”

I held his stare. That wasn’t a concern for Aurora—that was something else. Something colder. I didn’t respond.

He left without another word.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just suspicious—I was pissed.

I pushed back from my desk, jaw clenched, and made my way over to the lounge. The soft clink of glass was the only sound as I poured myself a cup of whiskey. I didn’t usually drink during the day, but something about Thomas always made my blood pressure spike.

He was getting under my skin—and not in the way a business partner should. Every conversation with him lately was the same. Always circling back to the engagement. Always pressing like I’d lose something by letting Aurora go.

But this entire thing? This marriage arrangement? That had been his idea.

I took a slow sip and stared out the window, watching the city blur beneath the clouds.

Aurora.

The name alone made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t fucking like. I tried to hate her when we first met. Wanted to. It would’ve made things easier if she were cold or calculating—like him. But she wasn’t. She was soft-spoken, stubborn when it mattered, and so goddamn kind it disarmed me.

I didn’t do relationships. That wasn’t new. I didn’t like handing over pieces of myself, didn’t trust what people did with them. I liked control, distance, and clarity. And feelings—real ones—they blurred the lines I worked too hard to keep clean.

I wasn’t supposed to care about her. She wasn’t supposed to be more than a name on a contract. But now, things were shifting. Slowly. Quietly. I could feel it, like a wire pulling tighter every time she looked at me, like she saw something good beneath the surface. 

Aurora was supposed to be business—clean, contained, untouchable. I’d spent my entire life keeping business far away from anything personal. However, lately…When I saw her curled up on the couch with a book, moving around the kitchen like she belonged there, or simply existing quietly in the same room as me—something in me shifted. I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t shake the urge to be close to her. To touch her. Like being near her settled something I didn’t know was restless.

That wasn’t part of the deal. I didn’t sign up for wanting someone. Especially not her. Getting attached—catching feelings—that’s how people lose control, and I don’t lose control. I can’t lose control. 

But no matter how many times I remind myself that this is temporary, that she’s Thomas’s daughter, that this arrangement is just leverage—I still find myself looking for her in the apartment. Still find myself remembering the way she occupies space. The smell of roses is everywhere. 

That's where the problem lies. She's starting to matter. The second she starts to matter, she becomes a threat. 

That didn’t seem to keep me away, though.

When I got home that evening, I found myself heading toward Aurora’s room. I paused just outside her door, hearing her voice through the crack—light, relaxed. She was on the phone with Jen, laughing about how Jen had no clue what to get her for Christmas.

Christmas.

The realization hit me then—it was next week. The year had blurred by so fast, tangled in meetings, contracts, and... her.

I left her to her conversation and headed to my room, peeling off the day with a long, hot shower. The steam did little to clear my head.

Later, I made my way down to the kitchen, where Ana had already set the table. She insisted I sit, even though I told her I could manage. She waved me off, muttering something about me needing to “eat properly for once.” I didn’t argue.

Not long after, Aurora walked in.

She was barefoot, wearing a soft beige sweater and flannel pants, her hair loosely tied back. She took the seat across from me, her gaze gentle but steady.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice still carrying the echo of laughter from her call.

“Hey,” I replied, nodding as I picked up my fork.

For a while, we ate in silence. Forks clinking. The kind of quiet that doesn’t demand to be filled—but you feel it pressing anyway.

Then she spoke. “So… Christmas is going to be at our house this year.”

I looked up slowly. “What?”

“Christmas Day,” she clarified. “Eve will be at my parents’. But the next day… here.”

I set my fork down, jaw tightening. “Since when?”

“I talked to my mom earlier—”

“You talked to your mom,” I interrupted, heat rising. “And decided that Christmas would be hosted here without even asking me?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she kept her voice even. “I didn’t decide anything, Chris. She suggested it, and I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how things work with them.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “You of all people should understand that.”

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “This is supposed to be a business arrangement, Aurora. Not some holiday Hallmark movie.”

She flinched at that, just barely. “I know.”

“Then don’t invite the entire goddamn world into our house like we’re playing house.”

“I didn’t invite the world,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t want to argue with my parents. I thought you’d prefer that.”

I stared at her across the table. She wasn’t backing down. There was a quiet strength in her tone that I hadn’t heard before.

“And I thought…” she added, voice softening, “I thought maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have your mom and brothers here, too."

I was getting angrier, and deep down, I knew my anger wasn't at this Christmas party or Aurora.

“I don’t like surprises,” I muttered finally, pushing my plate back. “Especially not ones that involve pretending like we’re something we’re not.” 

Aurora seemed to have got taken about by that comment, “what do you mean?”

I looked up at her, jaw tight. “I’m talking about how we’re not actually together, but somehow I’m supposed to sit around the tree with your parents like I’m already their son-in-law.”

She sat back a little, her face falling. “They just wanted to include us—”

“No, they wanted the illusion,” I cut in. “And you gave it to them without asking me.”

Her voice was soft now. “I didn’t think you’d care this much…”

“Well, I do.” I raked a hand through my hair. “Because this—” I gestured between us, “—was never supposed to feel real. And now you’ve got your mom planning dinners and your dad checking in on our ‘progress’ like this isn’t just an arrangement.”

Aurora’s expression darkened, hurt flickering in her eyes. “You think I’m doing this on purpose? That I want to pretend like we’re something we’re not?”

She stared at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you didn’t stop me either.”

I don’t know what came over me in that moment—maybe it was the conversation with Thomas earlier, or the unsettling realization that I was getting too comfortable with the girl sitting across from me.

The silence in the dining room stretched on, thick and heavy. Aurora barely touched her food now, and I could see the way her appetite had vanished. I regretted ruining her dinner, but I couldn’t shake the defensive wall rising in me, the one that protected my heart from her, even though every part of me wanted to let it down.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke up. “Chris,” she started, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

I looked up at her, my eyes meeting hers. 

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself before finally asking, “What are we?”

“Because we live in the same house,” she continued, voice softer now, cracking ever so slightly, “we sleep under the same roof, I see you every single day, and still, I don’t know what we are. Not business partners. Not friends. Not strangers. Not lovers.”

Her gaze dropped, like she couldn’t hold mine anymore.

“You sometimes hug me,” she said quietly. “Kiss me. Compliment me like I mean something to you…and then you pull away just as fast—like you have to remind me you don’t do relationships.”

Her voice broke a little on that last word, and I felt it—like something twisting in my chest.

I was realizing the impression I had made on her, I should have known that she was going to start feeling something. 

“I don’t know how to feel around you anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s just part of the arrangement.”

Her face twisted into something between disappointment and disbelief. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Aurora,” I muttered, the coldness creeping back into my voice. “I never promised you anything.”

“You don’t have to promise me anything,” she said, voice small, broken. “But you can stop making me feel like I’m nothing more than a convenience to you.”

That hit harder than I expected, and my breath caught in my throat. Every word she said felt like a slap, each one more painful than the last. But I couldn't stop now. I had to finish what I started, even though the words were starting to choke me.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” I said, though it sounded like a lie, even to me. “But I can’t give you what you want. I can’t pretend like I feel things I don’t.”

My last words hit her like a blow, and I instantly regretted saying them. I wanted to take it all back, to tell her I didn’t mean it. The truth was, I was lying to myself, pretending like I wasn’t starting to care about her. Pretending like these words weren’t eating me alive from the inside out. Because they were.

Looking at her now, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt, made me feel like I was choking on every breath. I wanted to pull her into my arms and apologize—tell her everything was going to be okay—but I couldn't. I was trapped in my own mess of emotions, and I hated myself for it.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, and her voice was small, barely audible.

“I see where we stand now,” she said, her words soft but with an edge that made it clear she was trying to hold it together. “Sorry for thinking this arrangement was becoming something more.”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond right away. The words were already out, and now, it was too late. She continued without waiting for me to say anything. 

“I guess I just wanted to believe it could be something else.” Aurora gave a bitter laugh, but it didn’t sound like amusement. 

She took a long, shaky breath, her shoulders slumping as she turned away from me. “But it’s fine. You were right. We’ve got this arrangement, and that’s all it is. No need to make it more than that.”

“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t act like I’m some victim here. If you don’t feel anything for me, then let’s go back to how it was at the beginning. You stay in your room, I stay in mine, and we pretend like we don’t even know each other.” Her words came out in a rush, like a final declaration, before she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

The anger in her voice hit me like a punch, but I didn’t move, didn’t react.

Aurora wiped her face quickly, then turned to walk away, her steps heavy as she made her way to the door.

"Just leave me alone, Chris," she whispered, her back to me. "Please."

I wanted to say something, but the words were caught in my throat. Instead, I just sat there, the room feeling emptier than ever, as she disappeared down the hallway.

My stomach twisted with something unfamiliar—guilt, maybe. I hated the feeling.

It was starting to hit me that she might actually pull away for good—that I wouldn’t get to touch her, be near her, not like before.

The weight of what I’d done was finally settling in.

If keeping my distance was the plan all along, I never should’ve let it get this far.

Aurora

I didn’t sleep much that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. That look he gave me—blank, unreadable, like he hadn’t spent the last two weeks slowly weaving himself into the quiet corners of my life. Like I’d imagined all of it.

I stayed curled up on the floor longer than I cared to admit. At some point, I dragged myself into bed, but it didn’t help. The sheets smelled like him. A faint trace of his cologne still lingered from the time he sat at the edge of the mattress, asking me if I was sleeping okay. I’d wanted to believe he cared then.

Now I just felt naïve.

For two weeks, Chris had let his guard down, bit by bit. He brought me coffee when I worked late in my studio. Sat at the edge of the bed and asked about my sketches, even when he clearly didn’t care about fashion. He kissed my forehead once when I nearly fell asleep on the couch. And for a moment, I let myself believe he was trying.

I thought I was past the point of hoping for more. But his presence had started to grow on me—quietly, dangerously. I liked when he was around. I noticed when he wasn’t.

I hated that.

I hated that I was the one left feeling small and stupid, while he got to retreat behind that cold, unreadable exterior like none of it ever touched him. Like I was just imagining everything we’d built—no matter how small it was.

So when I heard Ana in the hallway, moving through the quiet house with her usual rhythm, I didn’t go out to greet her. I couldn’t. I didn’t want anyone to look at me and see the cracks.

Then came the soft knock on my door.

My chest tightened.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Go away, Chris.”

A pause. Then a gentle voice replied, “Miss Aurora, it’s just me. Ana.”

I blinked, my shoulders sagging. Of course it wasn’t him.

I stood slowly and opened the door. Ana stood there with that same quiet, maternal concern in her eyes. The kind you didn’t have to earn—it was just there.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked.

I nodded, even though the lump in my throat said otherwise. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Ana glanced over my shoulder at the mess of sketches and the barely touched cup of tea on the desk.

“Tired doesn’t look like that,” she said softly.

I stepped aside and let her in. The warmth of her presence made something in me ache.

She walked in, sat on the edge of my bed, and patted the spot beside her.

I sat.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I didn’t need to say it—and she didn’t need to ask. She always knew when something was off.

Ana didn’t rush me. She just sat there, holding my hand, thumb brushing against my knuckles like a silent reassurance. The air in the room was heavy, and I hated how small I felt in that moment—like everything I had been holding in for weeks was finally starting to slip out.

“It’s okay to cry, love,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”

That was all it took. My throat tightened, and I leaned forward, burying my face into her shoulder as the tears came—slow at first, then full, aching sobs that I couldn’t contain.

She rubbed my back gently, letting me cry, not saying anything until my breath slowed.

“I’ve known Chris nearly his whole life,” she murmured. “And he’s always been this way—guarded, distant. He’s been through things that taught him how to shut everyone out. It’s not you, Aurora.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?” I asked, voice breaking again. “Why does it feel like I made it all up in my head?”

“You didn’t,” she said gently. “I see the way he looks at you. He’s scared. That’s all. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

I shook my head and whispered, “I just wanted someone to choose me. Not because of who my father is or what this arrangement means. Just me.”

Ana’s eyes filled with sympathy. “You deserve that, and so much more. And I promise you, one day, someone will. Maybe even him… if he figures it out in time.”

My voice cracked again. “He kissed me like he wanted me. He stayed up talking to me at night. He made me laugh. I thought—I thought maybe I was more than just a fiancée in name.”

More tears streamed down my cheeks, and I leaned into her again. “And now I just feel so small. So invisible. Like I made it all up in my head.”

Ana rested her chin on top of my head. “He does care, even if he doesn’t know how to show it. I’ve seen it. But I know that doesn’t make it hurt less right now.”

I sniffled, gripping the fabric of her blouse. “I don’t think it’s just about him. I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t have control over anything. Not this house. Not my future. Not even who I’m supposed to love.”

Her hand stilled on my back, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes. “I know, sweetheart. Your life has never truly been yours, has it?”

I shook my head slowly. “It feels like everyone else is deciding who I’m supposed to be, what I want, and every time I try to push back, I feel guilty. I feel like I’m letting my family down.”

“You’re not,” she said firmly. “You are allowed to want something different. You are allowed to feel angry. And you are absolutely allowed to cry. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

“I just wanted one part of my life to feel like mine,” I whispered, voice breaking again. “And for a second, I thought maybe he could be that. Maybe we could be that.”

Ana’s arms came around me again, tighter this time. “Then he needs to figure it out, and if he doesn’t, that’s his failure, not yours.”

I closed my eyes and let myself cry again, quieter now, but still raw. There was something comforting about being held like this, by someone who didn’t expect anything from me. Who just let me be. Eventually, the tears slowed, and my head started to ache.

“I think I just need to lie down,” I murmured.

Ana nodded and helped me to my feet, brushing the hair out of my face. “I’ll leave a glass of water on the nightstand. You try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“Anytime, love.”

As she turned off the light and quietly left the room, I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling, the ache in my chest still heavy.

Christopher

When Aurora said she wanted things to go back to how they were before—like we’d never talked—she meant it. It’s been almost a week since the fight, and she hasn’t said a single word to me. Not even in passing.

She left for school early every morning without a sound. Came home, went straight to her room, or disappeared into the studio with the door locked. Meals were taken in silence, alone in her room. And if I ever passed her in the hallway, she wouldn’t even look at me.

It was starting to gnaw at me. There was a whole woman living under my roof, and I barely knew what she was doing, how she was feeling, if she was even okay.

And it shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.

I caught myself listening for the soft creak of the floorboards when she moved. I waited for the sound of her studio door closing, for the hum of her playlist through the walls.

It was pathetic—how much space she suddenly took up just by not being there.

She was gone without ever leaving and I couldn’t fucking stand it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to keep things simple. Distant. Professional, which was what we were technically doing right now.  She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin.

I came out of my office, running a hand through my hair, the weight of my thoughts still pressing on me. I was still fuming about the tension between me and Aurora. The silence had been suffocating, and the house felt more like a prison than ever before.

I saw her. Aurora, stepping out of her studio, her focus fixed ahead, determined not to look at me. Her posture was stiff, as if she was preparing to glide by me like a ghost, pretending I wasn’t there.

I almost let her. Almost.

Something in me snapped though.  Maybe it was the way she was avoiding me, or maybe it was the fact that I was sick of pretending like I wasn’t affected.

I moved before I could think, reaching out to grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

Her head snapped towards me, her eyes wide, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. The tension in the air was thick enough.

I held her wrist firmly but didn’t pull her toward me, just enough to stop her from walking away. “You think we can just keep doing this?” My voice was low, almost controlled, but underneath, there was something raw. Something that I wanted to break through. “Ignoring each other like we're strangers?” 

She looked at me, her expression hard to read, her eyes not quite meeting mine but still holding my gaze. “Yes,” she said finally, her tone flat. “That was the plan.”

I studied her for a moment, taking in the way she was clearly holding herself back, as if trying to make herself as distant as possible. I couldn’t help but notice it—it was like she was trying to shut me out, to pretend I wasn’t there.

“What about tomorrow?” I asked, my mind still tangled in the mess of everything that had just happened.She furrowed her brows, looking slightly confused. 

“What about tomorrow?” she asked confused. 

"Are we still doing Christmas Eve at your parents’ house?” i asked still holding her wrist. 

She sighed softly, as if she had expected this question. “Well, yeah," she replied, her voice clipped, almost mechanical.

I stepped a little closer to her, not letting the distance between us grow. “And what about before that?” I asked, my voice softening just enough for her to hear the quiet frustration in my tone. “Were you planning on talking to me before tomorrow night, or should I just assume we’re still not doing that?”

She met my eyes then, her chin tilting up in defiance. “You’re a grown man, Chris. I assumed you’d be ready by 7:30 without me having to tell you.”

I stared at her for a long moment, the sharpness of her words stinging more than they should’ve. There was an edge to her voice that I couldn’t ignore, and it made me feel more confused than I already was. Very different from when we first met. 

Without another word, she yanked her wrist harshly from my grip and hurried toward her end of the house, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. I didn’t chase after her, but I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in my chest. I wanted to hold her, to tell her that I was sorry for everything. But I stayed rooted to the spot, frozen in the mess I had created.

I stared at the empty space where she had just been, my mind racing. Slowly, I came to the bitter realization: I was fond of her. I hated admitting it, especially to myself, but it was there, undeniable. Every time she was near, every time she spoke, I felt something shift inside me—a pull I couldn’t explain.

Even though the truth settled into me, I convinced myself that it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t love. No, I couldn’t love her. I didn’t even know how to love anyone. My entire life had been about control, about keeping people at arm’s length so I wouldn’t have to feel the weight of something real. I didn’t want to open myself up to that kind of vulnerability, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be the kind of person who got attached.

So, I pushed the feelings down, buried them where they couldn’t get in the way of everything I had built for myself. It was easier that way. But the more I tried to bury it, the harder it became to ignore the way she affected me. The way her presence lingered, even when she wasn’t around.

I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

At exactly 7:30 PM, I stood by the car, leaning against the door, checking the time every few seconds.

At 7:41 PM, she finally appeared.

Her burgundy dress clung to her frame perfectly, elegant but simple. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement with each step. Her hair, usually up in a slick or messy bun, was down tonight, falling past her shoulders in soft waves. She didn’t glance at me. Didn’t say a word.

I opened the back door without saying anything, and she slid in like I wasn’t even there. Not a thank you. Not even a look. She could play cold all she wanted. I didn’t care. At least, that’s what I told myself.

The drive was quiet. Tense. I kept my eyes on the road, hands on the wheel, pretending I didn’t feel the weight of her silence pressing against me like a brick.

When we pulled up to her parents' estate, the place was already glowing—twinkling lights strung across the balconies, wreaths on the doors, and cars filling the driveway. Classic Devereaux perfection.

I stepped out and rounded the car without a word. She didn’t wait for me. By the time I opened her door, she was already reaching for the handle herself.

We walked toward the entrance in silence. From the outside, anyone watching would think we were the perfect couple. 

As we stepped into the house, the warmth of the Devereaux estate immediately hit me—golden lights, the scent of cinnamon and something rich baking in the kitchen. A soft piano played somewhere in the background. Staff moved around quietly, guests already scattered through the foyer with champagne flutes in hand. The usual.

Thomas was the first to greet us. Of course.

“There you are,” he said with a wide smile, already walking toward us. “Fashionably late, as always, Aurora.”

Aurora gave him a quick hug, mumbling a polite, “Hi, Dad.”

When he smiled and complimented his daughter, I could still see it—the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, the subtle hint of disapproval behind every word. It made my blood boil.

Then his eyes shifted to me. “Chris.”

I gave a nod. “Thomas.”

He clapped me on the shoulder like we were old friends. “Glad you made it. Come in, come in. Everyone’s dying to see the two of you together.”

Aurora didn’t flinch, but I caught the subtle way her shoulders tensed.

Her mother appeared next, air-kissing Aurora’s cheek before pulling her in for a longer embrace. “You look stunning, darling,” she beamed, before glancing at me. “Chris, welcome, sweetheart. Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Merry Christmas,” I returned stiffly.

We were ushered in, champagne glasses quickly placed in my hand. Aurora didn’t look at me. Not once. She stood by her mother, answering questions and smiling when necessary, but there was a wall up. A clean, cold barrier that even I couldn’t break.

The thing was, I had no one to blame for that but myself.

She wasn’t mine to be jealous over. But damn, seeing her smile politely at all these people, looking like she belonged everywhere but near me, made me hate how much I missed the version of her that used to quietly knock on my door just to say goodnight.

Aurora had been swept into a conversation with a group of girls I recognized from the engagement party—her cousins, I assumed. She offered them a smile, one of those carefully practiced ones she wore at events like this. The kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

My gaze lingered on her a little too long.

It was only broken when a few older men came up to me, launching into questions about business, investments, and what it was like to be a CEO in my twenties. I nodded along, gave the usual answers, but my mind wasn’t there. It kept drifting back to her.

We were in the living room now—the same one where I saw her for the second time. The day she came back from class, shocked to learn she’d be moving in with me. She hadn’t taken it well, and later that night, I found her crying in her room. I hadn’t meant to see her like that, but I never forgot the way she tried to hide her pain behind quietness.

Later, when we were all seated in the dining room, surrounded by silver cutlery and glistening wine glasses, I found myself distracted again.

She was sitting two seats down from her father, and in front of me. 

The dining table and room were filled with every seat occupied today, unlike when it was just me, Aurora, and her parents. 

I kept looking at her—at the way she politely smiled, the way she carried herself like she belonged here. But all I could think about was the first night I met her. The night she walked into that hotel lounge in a brown satin dress, quiet and composed, her eyes wide but unreadable. 

The girl from that night... she hadn’t left my head since.

Now, she was sitting close enough to touch—but farther from me than ever. ​​

Thomas handed me a glass of brandy as I sank into one of the leather armchairs beside him. The men around us chuckled about a joke I hadn’t caught, and the air smelled of expensive cigars and old money.

“So,” Thomas began, swirling the amber liquid in his glass without looking at me, “how’s everything holding up at the house?” His tone was casual, but I caught the edge beneath it. “Fine,” I said simply, keeping my voice even.

He finally looked over at me, the corner of his mouth tugging into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Aurora hasn’t caused you too much trouble, I hope?”

I clenched my jaw for half a second before answering. “No. She’s been fine.”

“But I’m glad it’s working out,” he continued, voice smooth, condescending in a practiced way. “I knew it was the right decision to put the two of you under one roof. Structure is good for her and for you, too, I think.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think I need structure?”

Thomas gave a short laugh, leaning back in his chair with that ever-knowing smirk. “We all do, Chris. Especially at your age. So much success, so young—it can be hard to stay grounded. I’ve seen men crumble under half the pressure you’re carrying.”

There it was again. The subtle reminder that no matter how much I built, how much I proved, he still saw me as a kid playing dress-up in a grown man’s world. Someone not quite worthy of standing beside his daughter.

“I’m not crumbling, Thomas—” I started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

“Mr. Sturniolo,” a voice interrupted. I turned to see a man in a crisp black shirt, camera hanging from his neck. “Mrs. Devereaux requested a photo of you and your fiancée. She wants one... now.”

Thomas let out a hearty chuckle, clearly enjoying the interruption. “Well then, don’t keep her waiting.” He turned to me, lifting his glass once more. “Go on, son. Go take a picture with my daughter.”

Every part of me wanted to decline. To say no, not now, not after everything. But too many people were watching. Guests mingled just outside the sitting room. The weight of expectation hung in the air like perfume.

So I gave a short nod, forcing myself to rise to my feet.

As I stepped out into the grand hallway, I saw Aurora stood near the staircase, her hands clasped in front of her, shifting her weight nervously between her heels. She wasn’t smiling—her expression was tight, guarded, like she wasn’t sure whether she should breathe or brace for impact.

She looked stunning. The burgundy of her dress caught the glow from the chandelier above, casting warm light over her shoulders. 

Aurora’s gaze lifted when she saw me approaching.

Our eyes met—and for a split second, it was like we were alone in the hallway again. No guests, no photographers, no pressure. Just her…and me. But whatever flickered between us disappeared just as fast. She quickly looked away, smoothing down the front of her dress, a nervous habit I’d seen before.

“Alright, you two,” the photographer said brightly. “Let’s get one nice shot for the family. Stand a little closer… yes, perfect.”

I stepped beside her. She didn’t speak, and I could feel the wall she’d built between us.

“Mr. Sturniolo, hand on her waist?” the photographer prompted, oblivious to the quiet tension.

My jaw clenched, but I placed my hand gently on her waist. She flinched—barely—but enough for me to notice. She didn’t pull away, though. She just stood there, like this wasn’t the first time she had to pretend.

“Aurora, hand on his chest. Chin up a bit.”

She obeyed. Her fingers grazed my chest like I was fragile glass. I didn’t breathe.

“Now, just one more—maybe something a bit more candid. Chris, why don’t you give her a quick kiss on the cheek? Something soft—natural.”

Aurora stiffened beside me.

I should’ve said no. Should’ve shrugged it off and walked away. But instead, I leaned in.

She didn’t move.

My lips brushed her cheek, just for a second. That smell of Roses fills my nose

When I pulled back, I didn’t look her in the eye.

The flash went off.

“Beautiful,” the photographer said with a satisfied grin. “You two photograph like a dream.”

But it didn’t feel like a dream, and I needed to find my uncle and get out of this.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: Ok, guys, here comes the problems. To be fair, the major plot is in a few chapters, because bro...obviously Chris isn't actually staying away from her common now. Thomas thought...he's gonna cause problems. Like and reblog! mwahh] – ceyana

tags: @loser41ifee @bluestriips @cherryystemm @mattsfrenchtoast

(I want to add a lot of people to this tag list, so comment! Don't be shy. kisses <3)

[the-hopeful-squid]

I've talked a lot about Gi-hun and the rebellion, but the biggest reason Gi-hun's rebellion was not an example of compromising his morals, hypocrisy, or 'sacrificing players on his team' is a very simple but important point that I think a lot of people - especially people who want to engage in activism of any kind - struggle with:

Gi-hun didn't sacrifice players. Gi-hun sacrificed an opportunity.

Gi-hun knew players were going to die in the riot. That would be true whether or not Gi-hun participated. Moreover, he knew there was a very high likelihood that participating in the riot, no matter how hard he stuck to defense over offense, would lead to either or both of him killing opposing players and/or coming out of the riot too exhausted to fight anyone else before the next game began.

If all of the best fighters on team X participated in the riot, and the vote the next day still went in favor of team O, then he would have accomplished nothing except keeping more X voters alive to die in the next game anyway. Not only that, but now the strongest X voters would be the most exhausted and/or hurt, thus the least capable of playing any game that required strength or alertness, and therefore the most likely to die.

However, because the vote had polarized the players who wanted to stay and the players who wanted to leave so strongly, In-ho inadvertently gave Gi-hun an unexpected alternative to participating in the riot - an alternative that In-ho himself would never have considered, because it required being open to the idea that players could fight the guards and overseers who had kidnapped them, held them hostage, and killed them in a series of horrific death games in the first place.

In-ho couldn't see that option, because he has indoctrinated himself too heavily into the idea that the only way to survive is to play by the rules of the System, with joining the System - preferably in a position of power, if possible - as the ultimate ideal goal. Gi-hun, on the other hand, understands that Systems are made of people. He understands that people - whether they are poor and exploited, holding guns and doing the exploiting, or directing all the guns and exploitation from a nice comfy spot at the top - are people, and unlike abstract, faceless Systems, people can be fought. People can bleed, and people can die.

People can be defeated, which means the Systems they prop up can be defeated, too.

They won't be defeated, however, if no one who is willing to fight them is able to fight, because they already spent all their energy fighting someone else that the System threw in their path for precisely that reason.

And thus we return to the crux of the matter: Gi-hun did not sacrifice his morals or his values or the lives of people on his side. Gi-hun gave up the possibile chance to help some players survive during the riot, in exchange for the hope of a more difficult but potentially more meaningful chance to save everyone and stop the games in one go after the riot ended.

Or, to repeat the more succinct version from above:

Gi-hun didn't sacrifice players. Gi-hun sacrificed an opportunity.

And those are very different things.

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

LIKE I SEE YOU

DIN DJARIN x F!READER

Request: Reader struggling with insecurities and being unable to look at Din because his beskar reflects them, Din realising and stepping in to help. CW: insecurities caused by shitty parents, angst, minor breakdown, mental health, Din being so soft and lovely. [4K. Re-uploaded from my old blog.]

It’s one of those days.

The days where your mind decides to be your worst enemy and spits insults like acid, firing up each and every insecurity you’ve ever felt in rapid succession like a never ending horror reel in your brain whilst you stare with too sharp eyes at the mirror. 

And shutting them doesn’t work. 

The image lingers, imprinted. Distorted. Your mind turning it to something monstrous to fit the words that blaze incriminatingly across your features. 

It’s the type of day where you compare yourself to everyone that goes by even though you know you’re only feeding the parasitic thoughts behind your self-loathing behaviour. 

But you can’t stop. 

You can’t snap yourself out of it with kind affirmations no matter how hard you try, positive mantras like I am enough - I’m perfect just the way I am - they sound weak in comparison to  the other things ramming against your skull. False even. 

You can’t even distract yourself with the job you’re supposed to be doing, you're that unfocused, and of course Din notices. 

He noticed the moment your mood shifted, the moment your smile became a tiny, hollow thing and the wild spark of your eyes dulled. 

He noticed the moment your shoulders sagged as if struggling under some colossal weight and he could almost sense you shrinking into yourself, trying to make yourself appear smaller, unnoticeable to everyone including him, even as the two of you leaned side by side against the sticky bar of a run-down cantina waiting for an informant. 

Din just doesn’t understand why.

You were born to burn, not fade to shadow. 

You burned right through him - his armour and his unimaginably high walls that he thought he would never lower for anyone until you came along and showed him it was okay to depend on another every once in a while. 

Before he had loathed the idea of sharing his work with someone, his home, but then he had found you.

You, who had stunned him from the first time he warily approached you. With your sweet expression and mischievous smile - the way your eyes glittered as light bounced off the dagger that you flipped so effortlessly in your hand. 

You who had immediately launched into a vividly detailed plan of how you and him could slip into the bounty’s hideout and rip it apart from within from the moment he reluctantly had suggested he might need some help.

You had been glorious, destruction in your veins and blood streaked across your face, your neck, your bruised knuckles as you sunk a blade into one man's spine and twisted. 

Together, they had broke against the bounty’s muscle with the force of a tsunami and by the time there was no one left, no one except the cowering heap that you dropped at his feet with a warm, buttery smile, Din had been fucking starstruck. 

He’s remained that way ever since. His awe flourishing, blooming, into something that takes his breath away even when he watches you do the most mundane things. 

Every move you make seems to hold a beauty to it, a whisper of lovely power, something unique he can only ever link to you that makes his heart seize behind his ribs. 

And he can’t understand why it feels like he’s now watching that flame that burns within you go out before his very own eyes. Why you’re trying to make yourself invisible and refuse to meet the dark gaze of his visor even though he knows you can sense his eyes on you.

“What’s wrong?” He prods quietly. 

You sigh then, a flicker of something pained passing over your features before you can hide it. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“And you’re not usually this fucking nosy.” You snap, muscles tensing, still refusing to spare him even a single glance. “I said I’m fine, Mando. Drop it.” 

His brow pinches in a frown, eyes narrowed to slits as he lets your sudden burst of anger crash against him. Tasting the defensiveness and frustration brushed through it. 

He knows this. 

He’s all too familiar with becoming aggravated when he doesn’t know how to get shit that’s bothering him off his chest, the way he would allow it to bleed out through rage or violence because trying to form it into words made him feel foolish. 

It seems like you’re both similar in that way, maybe you don't need him trying to gently coax it out of you. 

Maybe you need a fight to let it all come pouring out.

 ** 

You’re furious by the time he’s dragged you into the tiny bathroom. Baring your teeth like a snarling beast as you yank your wrist from his tense grip. 

The contact had thrown you. Your heart stopping before it broke out into a chaotic gallop that you could almost believe would be heard by the Mandalorian as he took an intimidating step closer. 

The blank slate of his visor had bore into you and you had felt it so excruciatingly - the weight of his assessment, the crushing force of your own insecurities as he crowded you. 

Close enough that everything you considered a flaw was laid before his eyes in startling clarity and reflected back at you in the mirror sheen of his helmet. 

It made your stomach churn, anxiety crawling through your chest, an icy hand that winds around your neck and grips tight until his sudden touch had shattered its hold. 

“Come with me.” He’d growled.

And temporarily stunned, you’d gone. 

Stumbling to keep up as he all but dragged you away from the roaring noise of music and clashing conversations to a room so quiet you could hear your blood rushing in your ears as your surprise gave way to anger.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss, ripping away from him as he slams the door closed behind him. “We’re supposed to be waiting for someone.”

You make to push past him and he doesn't budge an inch, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he looms over you. An immovable wall of solid beskar. “We’re not doing anything else for this job until you tell me what’s going on with you.” 

You glare at him, fists clenched tight at your sides “I said it was nothing.” 

“And like I said, you’re a fucking terrible liar.” He shoots back.

Why do you even care, you want to scream. 

There’s a fierce energy building inside you, the volatile kind, self-destructive. Born from too many emotions spinning through your head.

You try and focus on the steady drip of the faucet to will it down, counting specks of mould on the worn tiles, how many times the light can flicker in between each uncomfortable breath you take. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You grit, attempting to assert some kind of authority of the situation. “All that matters is that we have a job to do and we’re wasting time.”

It doesn’t work. 

“No. We’re out. I’m calling it.” He advances on you slowly, his tone creeping towards irritation at the stubbornness of your denial. “You’re too distracted, lost somewhere in your own head. You might not give a shit that it could get you killed but I do.”

Suddenly there’s a wave of tears building, burning incessantly behind your nose, those nasty little voices beginning to purr through your skull as you gape at him.

Useless.

Can’t even do the one thing he keeps you around for, your job.

Why would he ever look at you the way you wish he would when all you are is a constant hindrance to him. 

And then you get defensive, that energy bursting hot and fast through your blood before you can choke it down and lock it up nice and tight. 

“You don’t get to make that decision for me Mando.” You snarl, swatting away his outstretched hand that reaches for you when expression threatens to crumble. “Don’t. You don’t have to keep pretending you care, I know I’m dispensable, if I die you can get another partner anywhere.”  

He reels back as if you’ve struck him. “You really think I’d do that?” 

“Why not! It’s not like I’m special is it? There’s heaps of other hunters out there, one’s more skilled, more reliable. Probably easier on the eyes too.” You laugh humourlessly, eyes stinging with salt as you begin to pace. Ignoring the gentle lilt of your name that he tries to offer as a grounding force, something to bring you back to him when you’re clearly beginning to spiral. 

“Hell you could replace me right here and now if it’ll make your life easier.” You babble and oh stars, it's like you can't stop. “Just think of all the credits you can rake in, not having to put up with my shit anymore.” 

Your breaths are starting to come quick and shallow and before you can say anything else Mando is immediately in front of you - his hands snatching at your shoulders before he drags you into a bone-crushing hug. 

You struggle against it for a moment, a fighter down to the last possible second, and then you fall apart. Harsh, ugly sobs wracking your frame whilst his gloved hand smooths over your hair, his helmet pressed to your temple as he makes soft mouthed sounds to try and comfort you. 

He waits until your cries quieten down, until the quake of your body lessens to a light shudder and then he tilts his head to look at you. “Look at me. Look at me, mesh’la, please.” He murmurs. 

You shake your head. You don’t want to see how pathetic you look, can’t bear the thought of what will stare back at you in the reflection of his beskar. 

“Please.” He repeats. 

You bury your face closer into his cowl, croaking “I can’t.”

There’s a beat of silence - disrupted only by the rhythmic drip drip drip from the faucet. And then he’s sighing, a desperately sad sound that twists something in your aching chest until you're sure you’ll feel a snap.

“Can you tell me why?” He murmurs, hesitance bleeding through him as you stiffen in his arms and he swallows thickly. “It’s not just now is it, you haven’t been able to look at me in days and if it’s because of something I’ve done - if I’ve made you feel this way - then I need to know. I need to make it right, because I can’t lose you.” 

Oh - oh no - he thinks it's his fault. 

Your throat closes up and for a moment you feel like you could cry all over again. 

He carries a guilt that has never been his to bear and it wounds you in some way, that this man who has only known you for such a short time takes your happiness so personally that he would beg to right a wrong that he’s not even sure he himself had made. 

He says that he can’t lose you like he refuses to entertain a scenario where you’re not by his side and you don’t even realise that you’re practically crushing him to you in another fierce embrace until you feel the gentle weight of his helmet resting against the crown of your head. 

"It's not you Mando." You blurt, a soft flutter brushing through your chest when he squeezes you tight as his body sags with relief. But only seconds later he stiffens again and you know he’s heard it. 

The implication. 

It’s not you. There’s someone else causing this.

You know he’s worked it out by the sudden change in how he holds you, the subtle shift from comforting to protective, his body all but curling around yours. 

He growls. “Who.”  And you shudder. 

You need to explain and fast before he decides to storm out of the bathroom and track down everyone who’s come into contact with you in the past few days. 

This job you’ve been on had required a lot of stealth so as to not tip off your target and if you were going to pick up where you left off after everything then the last thing you needed was your Mandalorian going on a vengeful rampage. 

He lets you untangle yourself from him reluctantly, follows like a shadow when you point to a spot on the floor and state lamely. “We should probably sit for this.” 

**

You can feel his eyes on you as you slide down the wall, as you fold your legs only to stretch them out in front of you not even a moment later. 

He’s not stupid, you know that, you know Mando is wisely giving you the time you need, refraining from pushing whilst you try and get your head together under the guise of making yourself comfortable on the grimy floor. 

When you’re as ready as you think you’ll ever be you take a deep breath to begin but suddenly find yourself hesitating. Were you really going to tell him? Could you let every sad little truth pour from you when you've spent so long plugging it up, shoving it down. Building a damn in your mind and your heart to keep it from making a mess for those around you. 

Hunters were meant to be strong, an undeniable, deadly force. 

They didn't do insecurities, self-doubt. Weaknesses. 

At least that's what you'd always been told. It's the impression you got from every one that you had ever met, including Mando. 

So how could you tell him that you were haunted by all of them. That every now and again they ripped into you and made you feel like your worth was less than nothing. How could you lay yourself emotionally bare like that and expect that he would still look at you the same after? 

…Except hadn't you already? 

You had spiralled before his very eyes. You had screamed and cried and shattered to pieces and yet… there had been no judgement. 

There had been nothing from him except comfort and patience. The press of his body against yours as he held you like you were infinitely precious, like he wished nothing more than to be a barrier against all these things he was clueless about except for the fact they were trying to hurt you.

“Did you know I always wanted to be a hunter?” You ask so suddenly that he jerks, surprised. 

It makes you smile when he softly shakes his head , when he shifts from his relaxed position against the wall and tilts his body towards yours as you offer a rare glimpse into the life you had before him. 

“I thought it sounded like the coolest job ever.” You recall. “Getting paid to chase down bad people and learning how to use a shit load of weapons? What more could I want? And it turned out I was good at it, better than a lot of other things I’d tried to force myself into growing up.” 

He makes a soft noise of agreement, like he gets it, and your lips twitch. “When I returned home after a really long time of taking pretty much every job that came my way, I thought my parents would be proud. I thought they’d be happy I had made some kind of a life for myself and that I wasn’t struggling for money like they had worried I would when I decided to make my own way instead of relying on them.” 

You close your eyes as the memory resurfaces.  “They weren’t. My dad basically said I was no better than a vulture, feeding off other people’s misfortune, but my mum…”

You swallow against the crack of your voice, fingers picking at a still healing wound on your hand before a gloved one stops you. Silently lacing thick fingers through your own as you struggle not to sob.

“My mum told me I had ruined myself. My face and my body. I had forgotten how obsessed she could be with our family’s image and legacy until she told me that no one would want someone who was covered in scars or who’s nose or teeth weren’t perfectly straight because they’d been damaged too many times fighting like some kind of wild beast.”

He sucks in a breath and you can feel it. His disbelief, his rage. His devastation.

It pours from him in waves as he visibly bristles beside you, drenching his voice when he rasps your name and you have to hurriedly continue. Shoving the rest of the story out of you because if you stop, if you let yourself wallow in the emotions clawing at the pair of you, then you may never fully get the weight of it off your chest.

“I told her I didn’t care.” You spit. “That if my appearance bothered people that much then maybe they were the type of people I didn't want to be around. And it had been the truth, I fucking meant every word.” 

 “But then I started noticing the way some people would look at me, the way they’d be scrutinising my face or my hair or what I was wearing and I’d hear her voice in my head again.” You don’t realise you’ve trailed off, gone distant, until the soft pressure of Mando’s thumb drawing circles on your hand brings you back. 

“I started wondering if they thought the same as her when they looked at me too and then it was like I couldn’t stop. Eventually it happened enough that when I was looking at myself, sometimes I started to think it too.” 

His fingers tighten around yours, the soft, aching sigh of “Cyar’ika” slipping through the modulator wrapping around the pain in your chest and dulling some of those sharper edges. 

You sniff and your voice comes out thin - watery. “There’s days where I still hear it and when I look in the mirror, or something reflective like your armour, it’s all I can see. But at least I’m still a good hunter right, I’ve got that left? Only, today I completely fucked that up too. So when I can’t look at you Mando, it’s not because you’ve done anything to hurt me or piss me off, it's because when I do, all I can see is how much I disgust myself.”

There’s silence between you as he digests everything. It stretches out and allows your thoughts to wander with it, undecided if what you feel after all that was said is relief or something else. 

It’s nice that you’ve been able to talk about something that has pained you for so long but now Mando has another piece of you that no one else does, the part of you that is most vulnerable, and you don’t really know what to do with that. 

“They don’t deserve you.” He mutters suddenly, so quietly that you almost had to question if you’d simply been hearing things.

You frown. “Who?”

He has your hand in his lap now, cradling it in his larger one as he traces nervous patterns with the other. His voice is steady however, utterly serious. “Your parents, the people who give you those looks. Anyone who can look at you and not see how incredible you are.” 

Your chest spasms and you look at him in surprise before your lips attempt to curve into a weak imitation of a smile. 

“I appreciate you trying to make me feel better Mando but–”

“Don’t do that.” He chastises you gently. “Whatever voice is telling you right now that you aren’t worthy of being told what I’m about to say to you, I want you to tell it to shut the fuck up and listen to me.” 

You snort and the way he tilts his helmet in your direction makes you pretty sure he’s currently got his eyes narrowed at you, an expression on his face that would probably say if you don’t listen, I’ll find a way to make you. 

You nod for him to continue. 

“You are incredible.” He reiterates. “You chose to make something of yourself when you could have had an easy life and you fucking excelled at it. You’re one of the best hunters I’ve ever seen even on your off days and you’ve saved my ass more times than I’d like to count.” 

You murmur a sly “seven” and quicker than you can react he pinches your thigh. A yelp bursts from your throat followed by a shaky laugh and it’s a quick reprieve from the way the pride in his voice was making your ribs constrict.

“You’re a genuinely good person, I have never seen you turn away a single person who’s come to you for help and you constantly go out of your way for people. Even those who probably don’t deserve it, like me.” He sees the way you open your mouth to argue and quickly holds up a hand to stop you, shrugging.

“I was an asshole when we met, don't deny it.” 

He had been.

But you had sensed that there was something underneath it all, that there was more than meets the eye when it came to this particular Mandalorian and you had been intrigued.

And also right. 

He shifts next to you and then there’s the brush of buttery-soft leather at your jaw. Hesitant fingertips tilting your face fully towards him as his helmet hovers just above your forehead and you gulp.

“Mando–” You whisper. 

“Your mother called you ruined but that’s not what I see when I look at you.” He breathes and you tremble as he palmes your cheek. “Every part of you is beautiful and there is nothing that black eyes, bruises, broken bones and scars can do to take that away. They only add to it. They prove that you’re a fucking warrior. That you’ve lived and fought and survived everything the galaxy has had to throw at you. How can your body be ruined when its remained strong and kept you alive despite the hell you’ve been through?” 

Something breaks inside you - you’re crying and you don’t even realise it until Mando’s other hand leaves yours to gently swipe away the tears with both thumbs. 

It’s the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to you and it seems to highlight the fucking number that those words from your mother have done on you, the fact that you have no idea how to take what Mando has said.

How you're supposed to believe it. 

But you want to. 

You desperately want to believe it so you can drown out the poison in your head with it. Take all those pretty words and lock them safe in your heart for when you next need them. 

And unsurprisingly, thanks to how adept you've become at reading the other, Mando instantly catches on to your internal struggle. 

"You don't have to believe me right now." He tells you softly, patiently. "I know it won't magically make everything go away and you'll suddenly see yourself the way I see you." 

He leans back and pulls you with him, tugging you into his chest as his arms wrap around your shoulders and waist. His chin notched at your crown and the venomous voice in your mind quiet for the first time in days as you ease into his comfort.

"But one day you will and until that happens I'll gladly be there to remind you as many times as you need me to." 

You choose to believe that.

A hopeful smile tugging at your lips before you lift your face from its place buried in his neck, pressing a sweet kiss to the cheek of his helmet as you whisper. "Thank you Mando."

You choose to believe that you'll always have him by your side. That the dark stain of your mother's words will eventually fade away. 

That one day you'll see yourself as the warrior you've always been. 

And that's enough for now.

[eighttens]

Work Hard, Play Hard

Agent/Manager!reader x Client/celebrity!Mingi Summary: You're the best goddamn agent ever, and you best believe it! That's the only way that you can save your AND Mingi's careers after your Movie-star Client fucks up... properly. Let's hope that your expert agentry skills can help you weasle your way out! word count ~1700

Note: i have no idea why, but i NEEDED to get this out of my head. I kept thinking about manager!reader and agent!reader covering some super scandalous thing, and being super cool and badass about it. also this is very much unedited, so sorry. i think that this one might be a little too self-indulgent, but if you enjoy this, PLEASE let me know!!! also how do we feel about assistant!Yeosang? anyway enjoy xx if you have any requests, send them PLEASE! my requests (should be) open!

Youre furious. You're angrily clicking your way towards your office, a few co-workers sending you worried looks. You know what they're thinking, and it's pissing you off. With a huff you quickly scale the flight of stairs towards your office. Now more than ever are you pround of having worked your way to the very top of the agency, as it granted you your very own room secluded from prying eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you bark as soon as you step into your office. Mingi is slouched into one of the chairs at your conference tables, head dropped into his hand, a slightly bored expression on his face. Your heels click across the hardwood floor and the crash resounding from your purse slamming on the table jolts Mingi upright.

Despite your burning gaze being directed at Mingi, it wasn't him who answered you. Instead of the rough voice of the Semi-celebrity who was one of your clients, it was a much smoother, shyer voice that answered.

"Im sorry Ma'am, he wasn't leting up and causing much more of a racket in the lobby and-" Yeosang spoke up from where he was standing beside the window, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. He avoided your gaze and stumbled over his words. You felt sorry for Yeosang. He was relatively new, having been appointed your assistant only a few short weeks ago. Whilst he delivered the meticulous precision you required, he still struggled a little to adapt to the firey outbursts you occasionally rained upon your clients.

"Its...", You sigh as you look between Yeosang and Mingi, reminding yourself that Mingi's screw-up wasn't Yeosang's fault. "its fine, Yeosang. Why dont you get up some coffee?" You dismiss the assistant with a wave of your hand, bidding him to leave. Yeosang quickly nods and hurries out, and you can swear you hear him sigh in relief once he steps out the door.

You can feel Mingi's eyes on you as you take your blazer off, throwing it over the backrest of your office chair. Once the door shuts again you take a seat at your desk, folding your arms over your chest as you look at Mingi incredulously.

"Why Mingi, why?" you say curtly, snatching the glasses from your face and chucking them onto the table in front of you. "Why can't you just follow my instructions? We had everything figured out, didnt we?!" your tone is sharp and demanding, but it seems that Mingi is doing everything in his power to avoid your gaze.

"Doing what you did is one thing, but coming here? Showing yourself? Causing a racket? whatever that means, is another." you pointedly tap on your desk. At his lack of response you huff and pull your planner and a notebook from your purse.

Flipping open to an empty page in the notebook you start scribbling down a few numbers, copying them right out of the planner. From the corner of your eye you can see Mingi start to become fidgety, uncomfrtable with his actions being mentioned. "I wasnt thinking..." he mumbles.

You stop writing and drop your pen immediately. "Clearly you weren't! I mean seriously Mingi! You damn near sent me into cardiac arrest!" Finally he looks at you, he looks like a kicked puppy. As if all that shit he did wasn't his doing. Your glare hardens as you think about the endless string of phone calls his actions pulled you into.

"I mean... it wasn't that bad, im sure youve covered worse things before, right?" Mingi shifts in his seat and flaps with his hands a little, as if he's trying to scrape together some other excuses "And... as great as an agent as you! i mean, this must be light work for you, right?". He trys his hardest to smile charmingly at you, but it comes over as dopey and unsure.

You clear your throat and lean back in your chair, and unimpressed look on your face. "Mingi you and your.. entourage," you spit the word like poison, "went on a 4-day bender, during which you not only broke in and set fire to your neighbours pool-house," you pause, letting the words sink in.

After a moment of awkward silence Mingi opens his mouth as if he wanted to explain but you dont let him, cutting him of "but you also fimed. it.?!" the look on your face is almost comical. "I was- we were-" Mingi opens and closes his mouth uselessly, looking around the room as if it would help his stammering.

You lean forward and fold your arms, "And then you sent it to me with the caption 'Insta worthy?'." Mingi's eyes drop into his lap shamefully, and youre dissapointed but not suprosed when he doesnt have anything to say for himself.

After another agonizing stretch of silence you lean back again, passive aggressively tearing out the page you were writing on. With a flick of your wrist you turn it around to show him.

"This-", you point to the first bullet point, "is the number of the Glazier you are going to hire. That'll take care of the windows you broke, and the glass table that got shattered." you explain, then point to the next.

"This is the number of a general contractor. His name is Micheal, and he is in charge of rebuilding and restoring the pool house." you pause and look at him, "You know, the poolhouse you set ablaze? Yeah that one. Except that Micheal can not know under what circumstances that happened. If he asks, then you are Kevin Polaski's nephew, and you were having a grill, alright?"

Mingi mutters under his breath, clearly displeased with this all. "Seriously? i really have to- can't i just be some mutual aquaintance? Why do i have to pretend to be his..." He cuts himself off when he sees your dead eyes.

smart boy, say nothing and chose to stay alive today.

You move on without having to say much more, "This is the number of the Pool cleaner, since i heard that someone may or may not have urinated in the jacuzzi in, i quote, protest against capitalism." your tone is questioning and you look at him again. At least he looks vaguely ashamed.

"And this", you point to the final bullet point, "is the number of the housekeeper." Mingi's head snaps up just then, "The housekeeper? What does the housekeeper get?"

"The housekeeper gets a nice cheque in exchange for not telling Mr. Polanski about your... mishap." you cross your legs in your chair, straigtening your pencil skirt. "Lucky bastard you are, Mr. Polanski is on vacation right now, which means that unless the housekeeper tells him, he wont press charges."

"Hold on, press charges? For what though?" Mingi looks geniunely confused, and for a second you wonder how he's made it so far as a celebrity without a publicists or a manager. "The breaking and entering? The arson? The vadalism? To top it all off, you incriminating youself by filming all of it? Mingi this doesnt just affect you, this also affects me. Im your agent, im responsible for your image. What you do reflects off my capabilities, and i know for damn sure how to handle myself- this isnt it."

The silence that follows is different from the ones before. This one hangs heavier in the air. Its preceded by the waves of rage rolling off you, but lingers with the sheer amount of dissapointment in your tone. Mingi shuffles again, trying to collect the confidence to speak again, but he's saved by the oening and closing of your office doors, and Yeosang's hurried steps.

You sigh and humm a silent "Thanks." to Yeosang as he sets down the tray holding 4 coffee cups. Yeosang, sensing the tension in the air and nods curtly, afraid to say much.

"Yeosang do you still have those brochures I gave you this morning? Before i left the office earlier?" you control your tone again, taking one of the cups and bringing it to your lips. With the unoccupied hand you gesture for both of the men to take a cup. Mingi reaches out; taking a cup, but just fidgeting with the label, staring down at the lid.

Yeosang nods and points to the door "Yeah, they're in my bag at my desk. Ill go get them." he turns to leave without a second thought; your eyes soften as they follow his form. You're grateful for Yeosang's dutiful compliance, and you make a mental note to give him a day off soon.

Your thoughts are interupted by Mingi speaking again, and you can feel yourself grow a tad annoyed with his voice. "Listen, im sorry about the trouble im causing you, i understand that this isnt a great look for me, and i probably shouldnt have.. you know, done the things i did." Mingi starts stammering, words unsure and small. You dont spare him a glance as he continues speaking.

"This is the first and last time something like this happens, i promise!" His voice seems genuine, and you sip from your cup again, tracing the lid with your eyes before you look at him.

He seems to gain a little confidence, and his voice is a little more chipper when he continues, "And really, thank you for doing this, im sure it hasnt been easy to do all of the... uh.. managing, that ive caused you. even though i guess thats sorta your job." Mingi trails off towards the end, cringing at himself as if he knows he messed up.

Your eyes harden immediately, and youre dissapointed with yourself for almost trusting him. "Save it. Youll be really sorry later." your voice is cold.

Yeosang returns with two brochures in hand, which he extends to you once he reaches your desk. You send Yeosang a smile and exchange the brochures for one of the coffee cups, gesturing to the door. "Take a break, Yeosang. Thank you." he nods silently and leaves.

You hold up the two brochures. "Take your pick, Golden Clover or Serenity Hills." Mingi scans them both briefly, eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Well pony-boy. Whilst Mr. Polanski's Poolhouse is going to be fixed, and to convince the world wide web you can't possibly be associated with the events, you're going to rehab."

[wanderlustknightofmagic]

It was then it happened, the blue glow, the count-down till he was truly out. Excitement was also an emotion, and ANY emotions heightened as high, without proper training, would result in the same outcome.

Despite his lack of training with it, Rain's luck would shine through as all three triggered, but... he maintained control, and the burn on his mana wasn't rapid. He would get a taste of what those who came before him and learned these ways had mastered, though this state would not last long. He was more than likely going to lose and end up out cold by the end of this... but... this was such fun!

"The lands obey you, you are a formidable foe worthy of the respect and fear you command! Though I am not done just yet! You will see the true extent of what a mage from my lands can do!" He would call out while the winds around his legs doubled in speed and power, the ground rising towards him was met with his own earth-magic, though he knew it wasn't going to hold, he just need time, a second to prepare.

It was when she closed the gap again that he grinned and the winds around his arms would react similar to the ones below. He would aim and send forth a powerful pair of whirlwinds to Ray'je, creating just that small distance he needed before he began his first chant. In his native language he would begin. "Oh skies above with roaring clouds, hear my cry, obey my words, conjure the flow of life, shape it to my will and use it to smite my foe! Storm of Spears!" With his chant completed, several 'clouds' formed above Rain, far more than what was normal and much larger.

Poking out from them were numerous spears made of water, and all of them seemed to lock-onto Ray'je. With a single wave of his hand, they would begin to fire and continue to do so, acting just like his chant declared, though, this wasn't his only ace, while he was certain she would struggle to dodge those, he would draw from his newest bow, one of lightning that he used to fire off even more volleys than before, ten arrows this time and at last five volleys, but all from a stationary point. This was his gambit, either claim the win with overwhelming power or fail, though one thing was for sure... he needed to figure out the differences in the Berserk state. Maybe if Noelle comes to claim his broken body after he can bounce some ideas off of her... assuming she's not yelling at him.

Rainald had managed to discover the Oni's home thanks to Noelle. After the string of failures, worries, and a need to find an opponent who could truly test him, he decided to test his mettle against her. Though normally not one to pick a fight, he figured if anyone could give him a proper challenge and get him to how he was when he first started, it would be someone who desires battle. He came in ready for a fight, though one might doubt such given he was without his armor or his staff. It wasn't being cocky or trying to disrespect Ray'je, he merely wanted to return to his basics.

Wearing only his training attire, bands on his wrists to block his portal magic, and a hairband to keep his orange locks out of his face, he would steel himself before entering her territory.

The torii gate stood in the midst of the city. Would this truly lead to the oni's territory?

Stepping through, he'd find himself in a lush bamboo forest. The stone path passes a small wooden shrine with the image of a dog woman carved as a tiny statuette. An incense holder carried a lit stick of incense. This was recently tended to.

He's being watched. He can feel it. But it's unclear from where, exactly. There's a mix of malice and curiosity to the sensation, but nothing visual.

The stone path leads to a clearing that meets the sand of a beach, opening up. A vast mountain stands to the right, dominating the horizon. To the left, the ocean sprawls out.

And there, at the edge of the forest, close to the sand, is a japanese estate. From here, it only looks a bit out of place, but approaching it would show it's build for something much bigger than a human.

it's unnaturally quiet, and the presence watching him feels like it's everywhere.

[blue-eli]

Ink October day 11: Firebreak

A strip of land that has been cleared, plowed, or planted with fire-resistant vegetation to prevent a fire from spreading.

[dykedvonte]

A crazy thing about Mouthwashing is that Pony Express lost communication with one of its freighters for months and didn’t send anyone to check.

A genuinely reputable company, or at the very least a decent one, would have sent someone, something out to check after about two weeks of silence. Two months is when the crew start questioning if they are even being looked for which implies they were already expecting it to take a while cause P.E just doesn’t care.

They don’t care about who they hire. They don’t care about the conditions they place their crew in or how safe the safety measures actually are. They just don’t care, made rules and regulations so they can care less and succeed in getting away with it with how little those ideas are discussed.

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[brain-depositary]

Okay you know what I’m just gonna go ahead and say it: after seven years, there’s GOT to be an element of willfulness to this. Maybe not consciously but we cannot say that Jayce is baby-boy earnestly naive at this point. He is bending to his society’s norms and doesn’t know how to interrogate it.

And also like I’m gonna be blunt here but this is also an element to the reason why people read Viktor as trans-coded, because like this dynamic of him being assumed to be “just” low-level help who isn’t worth engaging with seriously in combination with his desire to assert himself yet his reluctance to because of the social consequences would be, I’m just going to say this bluntly, more obvious if he was a woman. But he’s not, so people’s attention just kind of drifts over it to the point of completely misinterpreting the conflict entirely.

The real sign of the inevitable dissolution of Jayce and Viktor's partnership/friendship really was the Progress Day Speech. I've seen people say this scene highlighted the growing shift in priorities between Jayce and Viktor. That Jayce was getting swept up in the limelight while Viktor wanted to keep it humble and stick to the work, and that's wrong.

First thing's first, Viktor does in fact want to go on stage (he was excited to just demonstrate the hexclaw), and Jayce is sincere in that he wants to share the spotlight and credit for hextech with Viktor. The problem in that scene is that for practically 7 years, Jayce has failed to see what's actually going on.

Jayce can't see that his face and only his face is on the mugs, the blimps, and the very banners that decorate the hall he's supposed to give a speech in. Jayce can't see that the Councilors direct all their questions on hextech to him while Viktor sits right next to him. Jayce doesn't notice that Mel, the most perceptive Councilor, still thought of Viktor as Heimerdinger's assistant (she didn't know they were close??!?!). He doesn't realize that the discussion on weaponizing hextech is centered on him rather than between him and his partner. Viktor isn't the one being invited to Piltover's parties for a reason.

Between Jayce and Viktor, they're partners on equal grounds, but to EVERYONE else in Piltover Viktor is practically a non-entity. The only person who doesn't get this is Jayce. It's a testament to Jayce's earnest naivette to think Viktor, as a Zaunite and visibly disabled, would be easily welcomed on stage by Piltover's elite to represent what Piltover has to offer. You'll notice this is the same crowd of people that attend Mel's Gala, the same Gala Viktor wasn't invited to.

This dynamic is insane!?!?! It's unsustainable!!!!! Obviously, Viktor is a grown man and could have mentioned something to Jayce, but also it's at least 7 years, how does someone miss this?!?!

By their last scene of the finale, Jayce was able to give Viktor a voice on the Council by literally standing by his side and giving him a seat at the table, but like peace treaty, the gesture has come far too late, and things cannot return to as they were.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately