#at least they'll send a replacement

[totodiletears]

My unpopular opinion (well unpopular with employers at any rate) is that if your workplace is going to require you to do shit that requires having a phone, even if it's just 2FA for your work email and nothing else, then they should provide you with that phone. My personal phone should not be connected to anything that will ever intersect with the IT department's work.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

There's literally no end in sight wtf 😭

Everything is on fucking fire 😩😭

[dollfacefantasy]

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL ♡

pairing: homelander x fem!reader

summary: homelander has taken an interest in you, vought's new intern. no matter how you look at it, as a good or bad thing, it ends the same way: him getting what he wants.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, oral (m receiving), body worship, sir kink, obsessive behavior, manipulation/coercion, age gap (reader in early 20s)

wc: 7.7k (oops lol)

a/n: hehe. never thought i would write for this man but it was pretty fun :) comm for my sweet beloved @gor3-hound love you so very much mwah mwah <33

At the junction of the V-shaped table, Homelander sat. With his back to the skyline and his gloved hands folded in front of him, he held the posture of a statue. Ashley had been rambling on and on and fucking on for the past five minutes about shit he couldn't care less about. Her nasally voice bounced off the tile floors and painted ceiling, ricocheting around him like a rogue bullet. Only his impregnable skin didn't protect him from the discomfort of this situation.

It was moments like these that really made him regret killing Stillwell.

That woman knew how to handle things. As manipulative as she could be, at least she wasn't absolutely insufferable. How could Stan let Ashley replace her? She was a poor excuse of just about everything. Absolutely spineless, unintelligent, reactionary, and opportunistic. He really couldn't picture any person on this Earth genuinely liking her.

However in the midst of his mental complaints, he realized that the annoying sound of her speaking was directed at him. All the other stares in the room were zeroed in on him too. A-Train observed in cautious silence. Noir's goggles reflected Homelander's own image right back at him. Maeve judged with a sideways glance. And Starlight prepared for the worst.

He tore his own bright blue eyes from the door opposite the table and refocused them on Ashley. They scanned over her thinning ginger locks down to her gaudy outfit - a piss poor attempt at imitating power.

"What?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air with a force similar to one of Maeve's swords.

Ashley blinked in return. Fear swirled in her wide eyes. She tried to maintain that empowered appearance she so desperately wished was real, but he could see the innate urge to cower bubbling within her.

"Was that lineup for the funeral ok with you, Homelander? A-Train and Noir open, Starlight sings, and then you close?" she repeated.

Now it was his turn to blink. Like he could actually give a shit about the order of segments for Translucent's funeral. He swallowed hard. While she projected a mirage of power, he had to do the same with level-headedness.

"That's fine, Ashley. Have those two go first, and Starlight can follow up with Amazing Grace or whatever shitty hymns they teach in that hick town she's from, and then I can finish us out," he responded.

He could see how her knuckles were going white around the edge of her clipboard. She gripped it for comfort, as if that could save her from his potential wrath. It only irritated him more. If he wanted her dead, he would turn her to ashes where she stood. How hard she braced herself in advance wouldn't matter in the slightest. But people could be so foolish in moments of terror.

"Well speaking of that," she said before clearing her throat, an attempt at a natural transition, "We were trying to decide what song she would sing. Maybe one of our originals? Or do you think it would be more tasteful to go with something from an outside source?"

Gritting his teeth, he buried the urge to unleash the bright beams of red from his sockets. His hands slid off one another and pressed down onto the cool table.

"Do you really need me to decide what song is going to send Translucent to the grave?" he replied, "I don't care what you play, and no one else attending will either. They'll be focused on working up some tears for the useless dipshit they never had the displeasure of knowing. Instead of trying to gain their approval, we should be working on finding the next member of the Seven who can replace him. There's no use dwelling on the past. We need to be preparing for the future."

He paused to let his words permeate the room, giving everyone a chance to absorb the sentiment and adapt accordingly. With his pupils still trained on Ashley, he planned on continuing his tirade, but his train of thought came to an abrupt halt.

Soft pitter-patters of footsteps clacked down the hall outside this room. They sounded in a delicate rhythm, only audible to him. As they grew louder, he caught the scent of the source too. Airy and light. A stark contrast to the brash perfume Ashley doused herself in.

The doors at the front of the room slid apart to reveal you.

You stood there for a moment. The realization that you'd interrupted something was visible in your eyes. The small spheres cast down as you wobbled in like a fawn that sensed wolves watching from nearby.

Ashley turned to face you, a glower already set on her features. The resentment she held for everyone else in this building awoke from its usual dormant slumber because there was finally someone weaker she could take it out on.

Once you reached her, your hand rose and gave her a thin stack of papers. 

"I'm sorry for interrupting. It's a memo from 82. They made it sound urgent," you explained, everything about your temperament meek and timid.

After a brief pause to let you marinate in the few moments before your inevitable humiliation, she snatched the papers from you. Her eyes roamed over the page with disinterest. Even if the information conveyed by the small black letters was important, he doubted she would give it any reaction. She wanted to lash out, and she was going to, whether it was justified or not.

"They couldn't have emailed me this?" she snapped, as if that was something you could control.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll check next time," you offered.

"You better or you'll run out of next times," she threatened, "Incompetence like this won't fly here. You're in the big leagues now, so act like it. Think before you do something instead of taking commands like a lap dog."

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking your head again.

"Don't be sorry, just do better," she commanded.

"I will," you agreed.

"Good. Just get out of here now. Go pick up my lunch," she told you.

His lips curled into a scowl as he watched the scene play out. It was pathetic - not you, but Ashley. He hated seeing the fucking smirk on her face as you walked away. She had nothing to be smug about. She was nothing more than a feral coyote going after the scraps the other predators didn't take.

To make matters worse, when she returned her attention to the group at the table, she saw the look on his face. She saw the disdain, but instead of striking regret into her, it only deepened her sense of self-satisfaction.

She thought the look was for you. That he was disgusted with your mistake. Annoyed with your intrusion.

He couldn't have that. Not when that assumption was the farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, he didn't know if he was even capable of feeling such ire towards you. Not his precious little fawn.

Rising from his seat, his glare remained on Ashley. She did show a little fear then.

"You know, I don't have all day, Ashley. I'll open Translucent's funeral, Starlight will follow up with a song, and that will be it. A-Train and Noir can have the day off, because let's be honest, nobody will give shit either way," he mocked.

"But, sir-" she said, clearly confused by his sudden impending departure.

"I have more important things to deal with. If you need anything else, I'm sure one of the others can help you," he dismissed.

With that, he stepped back from the table and began heading to the doors. He hoped if he was fast enough he could still catch you. Even in a building as sleek and modern as this one, the elevators could be quite slow.

Walking out into the hall, his head swiveled in the direction you would have gone. For once, his own portrait didn't catch his eye. He didn't even think about stopping by Stillwell's office to reminisce. Instead, he just headed down towards the elevator. His red boots thudded across smooth tile in rapid succession, covering the path you'd just taken.

Finally, after a few feet, he spotted you. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eyes glossy with embarrassment. Tip of your polished shoe tapping against the ground. You startled when his voice boomed across the space, calling out your name. So cute.

You looked at him with fear in your eyes, but disgust didn't fester in the pit of his stomach like it did when others gave him that anxious stare. Another feeling bloomed inside him, one he couldn't really place. It was just that the nervous gleam over your pupils didn't make him hate himself and all the circumstances of his life that put him in his position.

Instead, your wide eyes and pouty lips made him feel strong. You made him feel like a hero. A real one, not the artificial caricature that Vought projected to the world. With you nearby, he felt like the kind of guy who deserved the American flag blowing off his back with a pretty girl cradled in his arms and a dead enemy at his feet. When you gazed up at him, he could only imagine that the pride rushing through his chest and confidence pooling between his hips was the feeling his creators intended for him.

"Did you need something from me, sir?" you asked, reminding him that he actually had to provide a reason to talk to you. Just wanting to stare at you like a psychopath would not suffice unfortunately.

"Oh no," he waved off, "The meeting just finished up. I was heading out too. I saw you, and I realized I haven't really taken the time to get to know you yet, which is unfortunate because I usually like to be familiar with the newer people we have working with us."

A complete lie. Before you, he didn't remember ever giving any of the interns a second glance. They were true nuisances. They were Ashleys.

"Oh... well I'm around whenever you wanna talk. Ashley keeps me busy, but I'm sure I could make an exception for you," you replied.

"You absolutely can make an exception for me," he chuckled, "If Ashley gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I'll make sure she remembers who's really in charge around here."

It wasn't until he heard your heart rate increase that he realized those words probably came off as threatening. Well, they were threatening, but you weren't supposed to see him that way.

"I'm kidding," he forced out with a laugh, "Just joking around like I do... I just don't want you to worry about getting in some kind of trouble for me sniffing around you."

You huffed out an awkward laugh of your own and nodded.  "I'll be sure to make some time for you in the future then and let Ashley know it was at your direction."

"Great," he said with probably too much enthusiasm. 

His jaw clenched into one of his usual tight smiles. He averted his eyes from you and looked towards the numbers on the elevator. Fuck, it was reaching the bottom. He didn't want to let you go, but it wasn't like he could just stroll down the street with you to go get Ashley's lunch. His mind scrambled to come up with a solution.

But like your earlier intrusion into the meeting, your gentle voice cuts through the hurricane forming in his head.

"Are you alright, sir?" you ask, anxious concern written all over your features.

He refocused on you and nodded. His arm extended out behind you, his palm landing against the elevator wall. As he leaned in, he could smell your adrenaline spiking. He could hear the shift of your shoe against the ground. If only he possessed a sixth sense for the mind, so he could know what little thoughts about him were flitting through your head.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he answered. He smiled down at you, observing the slight nod you gave him in return.

"Of course not. It probably seems silly coming from me," you said.

His brows raised in amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

He saw the flash of regret in your eyes. The one people always gave him when he asked a question in that tone. The one that came from the panic of realizing they may have said something that offended Homelander.

You suppressed it pretty well though and brought out a smile that gave the impression that you hoped he was messing with you instead.

"Well you know... because you're you," you said and tilted your head in an innocent way that made his chest ache.

He chuckled that charming, prepackaged laugh that had been trained into him. "Even I can appreciate someone taking an interest in checking on me," he replied.

It was maddening, how bad he wanted you. He wasn't even sure when this craving had sprouted inside him. He had been so preoccupied with his affinity for Stillwell that his fixation with you struck him like a glass window in front of a flying bird. But no matter the timeframe in which it blossomed, it had taken root by now and wasn't going to go away on its own.

When he looked at you like this - staring up at him with earnest fascination - his mind drifted to darker places all on its own. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to (and really, he didn't want to). It's just how was he not supposed to be aware of the fact that it would be all too easy to take you back to his room? How could he not think about what it would feel like to have your fragile body beneath his own in private? How could he not wonder what you'd sound like crying out in a sinful mix of pleasure and pain?

Hell, how was he supposed to pretend like he couldn't just bend you over and fuck you dumb right here in the middle of this elevator if he wanted to? No one would be able to stop him. There wouldn't be a thing they could do other than watch. They could stare in horror as he used you like he deserved, as he pounded into your warm, soft, dripping hole like he needed...

Unfortunately, painting that picture in his head had his blood rushing South. He felt the subtle simmer of desire in his pelvis, and he knew in no time his length would be filling out. This suit gave him no way of hiding it either. Clearly, whoever made it hadn't anticipated the Homelander popping a boner on the job.

But luckily for him, the elevator chimed with its arrival at the bottom floor. He straightened out as you looked ahead in preparation of your departure. But before you could go, he grabbed your arm. His touch was tender, holding the same force he'd use when cradling a baby at a photo-op.

"Maybe later tonight you'd like to take me up on one of those talks? After you're done for the day, you could stop by my place. The sooner the better, right?" he asked.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but you still nodded. "Um... sure thing. I'll head up once I've finished all my work. It should be around six if that's ok?" you offered.

"Yeah, that works for me. I'll be waiting," he said in an attempt to be playful.

You smiled once more and then headed out of the elevator. His fingertips dragged down your arm to your wrist as you walked away before you finally slipped from his grasp. He could hear your heart pounding faster than your footsteps as you headed towards the exit of the building.

At six o'clock sharp, a knock sounded through his penthouse. And it only took him a few seconds to swing the door open and greet you.

"There she is," he beamed with exaggerated politeness.

You smiled modestly in return, shrugging and smoothing out a crease in your blouse. "I couldn't let the leader of the seven down," you joked.

He scoffed but opened the door wider, beckoning you into his place. You took the invitation and crossed the threshold. Your eyes glanced around the place, taking note of all the things in the apartment that housed the most powerful man on Earth.

The American flag taking up an entire wall almost stopped you in your tracks. It would've been funny if it was someone else, but because it belonged to him, it stood there like a warning. You tried not to show how daunting you found it. Average people could be touchy about that famous piece of cloth. You didn't want to find out if the strongest supe felt the same through means of offending him. 

In place of letting that bother you, you shifted your attention over to all the historical pictures hanging on the walls and the sleek surfaces and drawers filled with things you couldn't begin to imagine. Your eyes casted over the statues accenting the space as well. It was all so very polished. It looked like what you'd expect the Homelander entry in an Ikea catalog to be.

"So what do you think?" he asked. He knew his words came off as stiff. Probably a little stilted sounding. He just couldn't help it. For the first time, he couldn't get a read on how you felt through physical signs alone. And right now, he really really wanted you to like him.

"It's... impressive," you answered.

But he could hear the hesitation in your voice. In each word, there was the same wavering quality to it that you get when Ashley grilled you in front of an audience. It wasn't the precious reverence that he saw in the elevator. The nervous kind of admiration you held for someone above your standing. This was just plain anxiety, and that served no purpose to him. 

Despite your trepidation however, you walked forward to the window at the back of the place. You looked out over the city in awe.

"I would love to live somewhere high up like this," you said.

He came up from behind to stand next to you in front of the glass panes. His eyes landed on your face. You stared out the window, wonder twinkling in your eyes. Your voice sounded almost breathless. It was adorable.

"No fear of heights?" he asked.

"Not when it comes to being inside. Maybe I'd be nervous if we were on a balcony or something," you replied.

"Oh come on. You'd have nothing to worry about if you were with me. I'd never let you fall," he said, dropping his voice a few octaves.

You made that cute little face again when those words hit your ears. Your eyes widened before they fell to look at your shoes. So modest, the way you shied away. He wondered if you were always so timid or if it was only when a god amongst men like himself flirted with you.

He chuckled and reached out, tilting your chin back up to look at him. "You don't need to be nervous," he soothed, "There's no safer place to be than with the Homelander, right?"

You nodded right along. His words left no room for objection.

"Good girl," he smirked and dragged a gloved thumb over your cheek. He pulled his hand back and stepped in the direction of the brown leather sectional that sat in the middle of the room.

"Come over here and sit down. We can talk," he directed.

Following him to the large couch, you took your seat near the corner. You assumed he'd sit at the other end or at least towards the middle of the perpendicular cushions, but no. He sat down in the corner with you. His body was at most a foot away.

He continued to smile at you though he didn't speak. It felt odd, sitting there in silence across from him. He wasn't doing anything overtly threatening, yet you still felt at his mercy.

"So, do you like it here so far? Do you feel like you're fitting into the Vought family?" he asked with a bit of an edge to that second word.

You nodded again. A relieved breath seeped from your lungs as the tense void in conversation came to an end. "Yeah, it's nice here. I feel like I'm learning a lot."

He chuckled and leaned back against the stiff backing of the sofa. His muscular arm draped along the top. Though it wasn't his intention to draw your focus there, he caught the way your eyes dragged over his bicep.

"That's good," he said, "It can be a lot when you're new. I wouldn't want you feeling overwhelmed."

"That's nice of you. I appreciate it, but I'm used to a busy schedule," you replied.

"You're freshly graduated, aren't you?" he checked.

"Yeah," you said, your lips quirking upwards at his guess.

"I thought so. You have that cute, wide-eyed, optimistic thing going for you."

A small laugh leaves your lips. "I know. Ashley said I'll grow out of it by the end of this quarter."

His face dropped, and he almost abandoned the prince charming act he was attempting to pull off for you. The mere mention of Ashley was enough to irk him, but the thought that she was trying to change you? Not only change you but jade you. To strip away the soft and sweet qualities that hooked him on you in the first place. It was criminal. He couldn't hide his disdain.

"You shouldn't listen to her," he said. He wasn't angry, but his cadence held intensity. "Ashley's problem is Ashley. To be honest, I don't even know why they gave her an intern. It's not like she'd be good at teaching anything when she still doesn't understand most things about our business herself."

Your fingers dug into the edge of your seat. It wouldn't have been significant in a normal conversation, but when speaking with a man who could hear a pin drop forty stories down, he noticed.

"You're still nervous," he observed.

In an instant, your hands flew to your lap, like you knew what gave your anxiety away. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt and shrugged.

"A little," you admitted.

"Are you scared of me?" he asked.

You shook your head without even thinking about the question.

"No, it's not that. I swear," you reassured, "It's just that this is a big deal for me. I'm really honored you want to get to know me, and I just want to make a good impression."

"You don't need to worry about that. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't have a good impression of you," he said.

You sighed slightly, letting out a bit of tension, but he could still smell that boosted cortisol running through your blood.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice soft but undeniably firm.

"What?" you asked.

A puff of amused air blew from his nostrils. "Come here," he repeated, "Sit closer."

As if you needed the guidance, he patted the space directly beside his hip. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes even after the gesture. The lack of understanding toward his reasoning persisted. Regardless of your skepticism however, you scooted in his direction and ended up where he wanted you.

"That's better," he said.

With careful fingers, he slipped the glove off his right hand. Your eyes locked on it in subtle awe. You'd seen this man on billboards and commercials for years. His face dominated newscasts. His voice broadcast over the radio on a weekly basis. Still, you had never seen such a human part of him. Five fingers and a palm reaching for your own.

They clasped around your hand. His skin was smooth. The gloves preserved them from any marks of experience.

"Did Ashley warn you about me?" he asked, drawing your eyes back to his own.

Your heart thundered, but you couldn't lie. Never had Vought bragged about Homelander being a human lie detector, but in this moment, you felt like that was the case.

"Yes," you responded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You didn't believe her, did you?" he asked.

You could tell he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

"Yes," you whispered again.

"What did she tell you?"

It was hard to remember that conversation you'd had a few weeks ago with Ashley. Feeling like you were two seconds away from having lasers beamed through your skull made minute details fuzzy and distant, but you manage to choke a few out anyways.

"She said that you have a very specific vision for the Seven, and that you'll do anything to make your dreams reality. She was just saying you're ambitious. That you care about the greater good," you summarized.

"I have a feeling you're saying it a lot nicer than she did," he teased. He could feel the fear rolling off of you in waves, and in a moment, he would rectify that. But for right now, he didn't mind letting his precious little fawn tremble in terror for a few moments more.

"Yeah, she can be kind of blunt," you said with a shaky laugh.

"That's one word for it," he said.

"She's not gonna get in trouble because of what I said, is she?" you asked.

He couldn't help laughing at that. The sound came out low and throaty. You were just so fucking pure. Worried about protecting someone who wouldn't hesitate for a second to sell you out if it meant she could climb up another rung on the corporate ladder.

His exposed thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles. "No. Of course not. We're just talking," he said.

He leaned in closer to you, positioning his mouth in close proximity to your ear. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

"I appreciate your honesty though. Ashley probably couldn't tell you this, but I appreciate a loyal girl like you," he murmured.

On both your hand and through his glove in contact with your chin, he could feel your skin heat up.

"Oh... thank you, sir," you said.

He chuckled. His fingers squished into the flesh of your cheeks, making your lips puff out as though they were seeking a kiss.

"So polite, but I like that. We need more people here who understand their place," he said.

At this point, the gravity of your circumstances began to settle on you. Your fear had worn off a bit, and you realized what a compromising position he had you in. With one tight squeeze, he could crush every bone in your face.

Out of instinct, you tried pulling back a little. You didn't make it obvious, only attempting to gain a few inches of space.

That was a few inches too many though. He tightened his grip and kept you where he wanted you.

"Ah ah," he tutted, "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to be scared? I'm not going to hurt you."

You dropped the resistance right then and there. It wasn't worth pursuing. If he didn't want you getting away, you weren't getting away.

He took a few more seconds to study your face, taking in every minutiae of your expressions. Then, his hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you into his lap. His thighs were firm against your ass, both rigid in how he carried himself and defined from the pure muscle that made them up.

His hands smoothed up and down your sides, coasting over each crease in your blouse. He massaged your soft tissue with gentle squeezes from the beginning of your bra down to the swell of your hips.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, "You fit here like you were made for me."

You vibrated in his grasp. He could feel the way you quivered with the urge to pull away.

"Thank you, s-sir," you stammered, "I really appreciate it but-"

"But nothing," he cut you off.

"But I don't think we should be... doing this," you tried to continue anyway.

"Why not?" he asked. Though his tone made it obvious that no matter what reason you provided, it wouldn't change his mind.

"Because you're like my boss, y'know? And I worked really hard to get my spot here, and I don't want people thinking I slept my way to where I am," you explained, "You're really nice, and I admire you a lot, but it wouldn't be right."

He didn't respond immediately. He paused and let your words hang in the air for a few moments.

"You know," he finally spoke, "I don't think you understand how things work around here. It doesn't matter what anyone else in this building thinks. Only me."

You blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to such an assertion. It didn't matter though. He continued without your input.

"What I do with you, how I feel about you - no one else will know about it unless you tell them. But even if you do and even if they care, there isn't a thing they'll do about it. There's not a thing they can do about it," he continued.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," you maintained.

"Good thing this isn't for you to think about then," he mocked, "You're a fast learner. You'll figure it out soon enough. I am God in this tower. And a god doesn't listen to his subjects. He guides them. He knows best."

One of his hands slid up your tummy and over your chest onto your throat. He cupped your jaw and swiped his thumb back and forth across your bottom lip.

"What did Ashley tell you about me?" he asked.

"That no one gets in your way."

"Good. And she was right. No one gets in my way. Nothing stops me from getting what I want. And I've wanted you for too fucking long not to try you out."

That set of fingers on your chin pulled your face towards his and brought you into a kiss. You froze against his lips. It felt as though all of time stopped. This high up, you couldn't hear the sounds of the city outside the penthouse. No one existed in this moment but you and him.

Unlike you, he melted into the exchange. He sighed against your skin and pulled you flush against his toned body. After a second to let you come to terms with what was happening, he kissed you again. His lips sucked on yours gently, attempting to coax you into returning the affection.

The most he got is you puckering them up ever so slightly.

He pulled away with frustration in his eyes and grabbed your face, jerking you a little to look at him.

"Don't act like you don't want this. I know you do," he said, "You're scared, but you don't need to be. Relax and let yourself enjoy this. It's not everyday that the most powerful man on earth wants to fuck you."

Your eyes blew up like little saucers, but before you could really process the directness of what he'd said, he was kissing you again. This time it wasn't as nerve wracking. You softened up a little and kissed back.

You didn't put much effort into it. Your lips responded like this was a juvenile first date. But he didn't let up. He didn't let you give him anything less than your best. His hands roamed across your body. They groped and fondled your breasts and then migrated South to feel up your ass through your pencil skirt.

Your muscles started to loosen up after a minute or so. You told yourself this wasn't so bad. He was being gentle so far, and for someone with his abilities, you wanted it to stay that way. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. With that as leverage, you deepened the kiss.

He groaned as soon as you started to give in. His hands fell to your hips and tugged you so that you were straddling him. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing around his apartment. You could tell he held back. A real spank from Homelander could shatter your hip, but this one barely even stung. Maybe he did like you.

His fingers came up and with a sharp tug, he popped the front of your top loose. The column of buttons sprung free. The strips of cloth fell away to each of your sides, exposing a sliver of your skin. He furthered it by pulling off the garment entirely. His eyes trailed along your bare shoulders to your collar bone before finally landing on your breasts. He gave them a firm squeeze, kneading them through the barrier of your bra.

Meanwhile you rolled your hips down on his lap. Immediately, you felt his bulge that had risen to attention between your thighs. You did it again and then again. Each time you ground yourself against him with more pressure.

He grunted, and his eyes fluttered. His hands returned to your waist and gripped you hard, guiding your movements. He seemed transfixed for a few moments, as if he couldn't decide his next move.

After a few seconds though, he got his momentum back. He yanked you off his lap and flipped over so that you were seated on the couch again.

He rose to his feet before you. There your eyes scanned over his body from his tousled blond hair and his kiss-swollen red lips to his sculpted abdomen and his swelling erection. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.

Once your arm was limp on the couch again, he removed his other glove. He dropped it to the floor before bringing his right boot to the spot on the sofa next to you. He unzipped the red shoe and then discarded it like he had with the other item. The other boot followed the same routine.

"I don't let just anyone see me like this," he told you as his fingers began to undo his collar, "You should feel lucky."

Lucky wasn't the word you would use to describe your feelings in this situation. Maybe special. Or distinct. Individual. Either way, you continued to watch. Your eyes glided over his figure as he pulled away the tight blue costume that seemed like a second-skin for how much he wore it.

His defined chest came into view. Your reluctance hadn't vanished all together just yet, but at this point, it was fading fast. Pale hair dusted the muscular expanse and trailed down his stomach to the waistband of the bottoms. The waistband he soon hooked his fingers over and peeled down.

He dropped the scaled navy fabric to the ground before kicking it away, leaving himself in just a small pair of boxers. His hand came down and rubbed the swollen tent at the front while his eyes lingered on you.

"Do you want to touch?" he asked.

You nodded. It wasn't a hard decision. This was still a bad idea. You hadn't changed your mind on that. But at this point, what else was there to do? Defying Homelander wasn't an option for anyone on this planet ever. You were no different.

"Ask," he commanded.

"Please can I touch you?" you said.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir. Can I touch you?"

"Good girl," he praised before nodding, "Go for it."

You reached out, this time successfully. Your palm landed flat on his stomach. You held it there for a moment, just feeling his skin. In a way, it was unreal. To feel that someone propped up on the world's pedestal was flesh and blood like you.

Rubbing up and down, you continued getting a feel for his body. He smirked at your wonder before guiding you up by the elbow.

"Stand up and do it right," he said.

"Sorry."

The word came from your mouth automatically. You brought your other hand up to his chest and felt the muscles in his chest. Everything was so built. You expected that, but it was still odd to feel beneath your fingertips. He felt like a living ken doll. You almost didn't believe if he dropped his boxers there would be a real cock there.

Your hands traced up to his shoulders with precision. They explored down his biceps and forearms. And then finally, you brought your lips into his chest. He sighed and tilted his head back, relishing the feeling.

You kissed all over, swirling your tongue and tracing shapes onto his skin. It was almost entrancing, to be so focused on someone like this. You barely noticed as he turned the two of you and sat himself down on the couch, lowering you to your knees.

You worked your mouth down his abs, licking and kissing the twitching muscles. Your fingernails scraped up his sides and then down onto his thighs. When your lips reached the waistband of his boxers, your eyes glanced up at him.

"Can I take them off, sir?" you asked.

He smirked at the title. Only one word of correction and he'd trained that phrase into you.

"Yes," he answered. It was a simple answer. All that was required for someone so naturally obedient.

You took it in stride, tucking your fingers over the elastic and tearing them down. His hard cock popped up and slapped against his pelvis. You couldn't have been happier about your earlier ken doll theory being proven wrong. The sight of his dick was enough to make you drool. It was better than any work of art out there.

It rested against his body at the perfect length, the perfect girth. The tip flushed beautiful red and pearly white beads of precum smeared at the top. Your fingers wrapped around it and gave it a few strokes, testing the waters.

His hand came down and petted your head. He watched as you studied the appendage, as you experimented with your own touch. It was so fucking cute he thought he might cum right then and there. Fuck, he thought you were sweet every moment he had eyes on you, but right now, you were darling. You were doing as he said. Accepting your place at the feet of a superior being.

"Put it in your mouth," he said from above, "I want you to taste it."

There was no hesitation on your end this time around.

"Yes sir," you responded before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.

He groaned and let his chest hollow out with a harsh exhale. Your mouth was so warm and wet, nice and snug around his length. He rocked his hips up, pushing it further into your throat. He expected a small gag or sputter, but instead you moaned. You shut your eyes and flattened your tongue against his shaft before beginning to bob your head.

"Fuck," he hissed. His legs tensed up, and he pressed down on your head. That did get a tiny gag out of you. You gripped his hips to stabilize yourself though and stayed in place. Your nose nestled against the darker curls of hair that sat at the base of his cock.

Spit leaked from your mouth and dribbled onto his skin below. He took a few moments to just enjoy the feeling of his dick down your throat. The sight of his sweet, innocent girl choking on his cock. Then he let you pull off and catch your breath. 

You took a few deep puffs, letting the spots clear from your vision before you dove back in for more. Your hand stroked the lower part of him your mouth didn't cover in its shallow sucks while your other set of fingers caressed his balls tenderly.

He'd never experienced devotion. As much as it pained him to ever acknowledge, his sexual experiences had been lackluster up until now. There were the times with Maeve, but they always left something to be desired for him. Then there was the time with Stillwell that ended before it really started. In either case, no one had ever put all of themselves into pleasuring him like you were doing right now. It drove him wild. He could feel his sac tightening up, and he knew he had to get you off.

Planting one hand on each side of your head, he tugged you back. You looked up at him with glossy, cock-drunk eyes and saliva-coated lips. He swiped some of the mess away before addressing you.

"You're doing so good for me, but I think you're ready for more, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," you agreed.

"My perfect pet," he crooned and pulled you up onto the couch.

He laid you flat on your back and ripped your skirt and panties off in one go. His eyes drank in the sight of your nude lower half, but he didn't spend much time savoring it. He spread you out, slotting himself against your center.

With a few rocks of his hips, he dragged his length through your wetness. He let the sticky fluid coat his shaft, and then he sunk in. His tip bullied its way into your entrance and the rest of him followed. You whined at the stretch. Your walls clamped around him, eager to accept the intrusion.

"Atta girl," he grunted as he worked himself all the way in.

His hips connected with your ass, but he still bucked them, trying to get more. You yelped at the force. He was already buried inside you. Anymore and his tip would be nudging the entrance to your womb.

Fortunately for you, he pulled his hips back, giving you a short break from feeling so full. It was short lived though. Seconds later he snapped back in. That began the quick rhythm he set into. It was desperate and needy, emotions he'd tried to hide until this point.

You whimpered as your body bobbed with the momentum. His thrusts bounced you back and forth. The sounds of his body smacking against yours filled the room. His fingers dug into your waist hard enough to bruise. You didn't complain about the minor pain though because you could tell he was holding back in every other regard. If a few marks on your side kept you from being pulverized by a super cock, then that was a burden you were willing to carry.

Above you, he starts to pant. His breaths leave him raggedly huffing, sucking down what oxygen he can get in the midst of rutting into you. He tilts his head down at you and gazes at your blissed out face with lidded eyes.

"I could have anyone. Any person on this Earth would be mine if I wanted them to be. But the only one I want is you. Doesn't that feel good?" he breathed.

"Yes!" you cried out. Your back arched up off the couch. "Feels so fucking good, sir."

He leaned into you more, squishing your body into the surface below. Your thighs pressed against your tummy as he bent you.

"Yeah, it does," he grunted, "It's all there is. It's all you need to think about. How you're all mine."

"Mhm," you whined with a lazy nod. You were getting closer to cumming and responding to his words was taking a lower priority in your mind.

"And to think you tried to deny yourself of it," he mocked. He clenched his jaw and slammed into you harder.

You shrieked and clutched his shoulders. In the back of your mind, you hoped his penthouse was sound proofed or at least enough distance from the nearest one. Otherwise you wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident for it to spread throughout the tower.

"I knew better, didn't I? I knew this is what you needed," he said.

Again, you nodded. You felt the heat in your belly reaching the boiling point.

"Say it," he huffed.

You tried to force it out, but your own hiccuped sob of pleasure cut you off. He didn't give you a break though. He stared down at you with expectation, so you continued.

"You know best- uh, fuck- you know best, sir," you whined.

"Good fucking girl," he growled on top of you.

He was already close from the blowjob you'd given him. Only a few strokes more, and he was ready to explode. He swiveled his hips, angling them upwards to pound into that special spot that would make you see stars and stripes.

You mewled when you came. Your body trembled harder than it did when you were scared. Arousal gushed out of you and coated his skin. He huffed and buried his face in your neck before letting go.

Everything faded into the background as you laid underneath him in the haze that came after the absolute high of pleasure. Now you could feel his heartbeat too. The organ thundered against his chest over and over as he came down.

Minutes later he pulled back. His knuckles caressed down your jawline before he climbed off of you entirely. He sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. You weren't sure whether you were supposed to pick up your stuff and leave or follow along with him and stay close to his side. There was no real indication of what he wanted in this moment, but he turned to smile at you and huffed out a laugh.

"I think I'll keep you with me more often now. Really show you the ropes of fitting in around here."

You sat up and nodded awkwardly. He leaned toward you, cupping your cheek.

"I'll be a much better teacher than Ashley ever was," he said. His arm snaked around you and pulled you to his chest again. "No more errands or coffee runs. I'll show you things you need. Things that you'll enjoy."

He ran his fingers over your face and kissed your temple. The touches were tender against your skin. They would have been romantic if your mind wasn't racing with what this all meant in terms of your job and the grand scheme of your future.

Looking at him though, he wasn't worried at all. He smiled down at you before whispering once more.

"My sweet little pet. All mine now."

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of injuries, hints at past violence/abuse, societal inequality, arguments, medical equipment, toji is a little less of an asshole in this lmao !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: and here's part three !! i didn't expect it to be this long but here we are lmao. pls make sure to read the previous parts before this one to understand what's going on !! anyways i hope you enjoy :33

prev. | series masterlist.

toji has only been with you for two days, and you can already confidently say that stubbornness is a staple for him.

the first morning, he had stayed in his room until you had gotten up, only ambling outside when he heard the sound of you moving around in the kitchen. it was only then that it dawned upon you that you hadn't given him anything to eat after his shower the previous night, and he watched you practically trip over yourself trying to apologize.

when you asked why he didn't just ask for food, he only shrugged his shoulders with an adamant scowl, and that's when you knew you'd have to be the one to suggest things for him. because if you don't say it, toji will not ask for it.

the first day had passed by rather unceremoniously. after you fed him a heavy breakfast, which he had tore into with no hesitation, he just lumbered back into the room and fell asleep again. you didn't really know what to do—perhaps he was just exhausted from all the injuries and spending time outdoors.

so you didn't bother him. he spent the rest of the day repeating this cycle, coming out for food and then going back in. only later at night, you had finally bothered him, telling him that you'd replace the bandages you tied the previous night after he showered.

so that's what you did, and he nodded at you in a silent goodnight before heading back in. you must've saw him for maybe two hours in the whole day.

but today your approach is different.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't concerned about his injuries, because you know there is only so much you can do with your first aid kit at home. besides toji is as silent as he is stubborn—you have no clue what other injuries he's hiding from you. and that's what you're trying to reason out with him now.

it's not going well.

"toji please," you beg, trying to push yourself into his line of sight. "i promise they'll help you."

"no. no way," he hisses back, baring his teeth. "they'll just send me back to that hellhole."

"no they won't! they'd want to help you get better!" you're feeling more and more desperate as his stubbornness rises. you're not nearly smart enough to know how to treat even a quarter of his wounds. besides, toji had been on the streets for at least over a month—isn't it smart to want a doctor to check it out?

"maybe they'd wanna help," he grunts, crossing his arms. there's a hint of panic coursing through his veins, but he masks it well with rapidly rising irritation. "but they will send me back. don't you get it? i'm a wild animal. they aren't gonna send me out to go roam the streets. they'll send me back to the ring because they know i'll be kept under control there."

your shoulders slump, watching as he takes a seat on your couch—he keeps himself pressed to the very corner of it, and that just makes you feel more miserable. you take a seat on the other side, keeping your distance.

"okay, no big hospitals," you acquiesce. "but i definitely don't know how to fix those kinds of injuries."

toji half-heartedly shrugs, a wry smirk tugging at his scarred lips. "who cares? i'm tough, they'll heal."

you grimace. "definitely not. they'll probably get infected."

toji holds up his bandaged arm with a canine grin. "what d'ya mean? you did a pretty good job with this."

you pout at that, oddly embarrassed, but you remain steadfast in your argument. "all i did was disinfect it and wrap it up. but that doesn't mean that's all it needs. what if you need stitches or something?"

toji sighs heavily, fingers loosely curling around his wounded arm. he won't deny that you've been spectacularly caring for him over the past two days. and it's not like he really wants to upset you or anything.

but he has gone through too much to risk even a chance at being thrown back underground.

"i'll live," he sighs. he doesn't know much about being polite, but he does know that he doesn't enjoy the idea of being mean to you. for some reason he thinks that would just make him feel shitty. he's not sure why though—he's never been interested in what humans think anyway.

your eyes narrow, aggrieved. "if i find someplace that won't turn you in, then will you come?"

your relentless pursuit makes toji want to roll his eyes. he's not sure why you don't just take no for an answer. but he wants you to drop the conversation, so he just replies with a huffed, "sure."

there's no place you could take him that wasn't going to rat him out anyway. if you wanted to give him medical care, they would always ask for his details. and when they find out that he's not yours, and that he's come from off the streets, they will no doubt send out an alert.

and then it's only a matter of time before he's being thrown in the back of a van, drugs pumping through his veins.

he'd much rather stay in your cozy little space for as long as you'll let him, drunk off the comfort of good food and a roof over his head.

but toji did not realize that he had severely underestimated your sense of determination.

and that's how he finds himself sitting in an examination room, with you nervously tapping your foot against the floor. the muscles in his face hurt from how long he's been glaring at the wall, too angry to look at you. he knows you probably mean well, but he's almost sure that he'll never see you again after this appointment.

he's prepared to be dragged out of the building by a group of guards holding heavy tranquilizer guns—like so many of his kind before him.

"you're still mad." you say it like a statement, unamused, and toji huffs in return.

"you're underestimating how strong i am." he gives you a sidelong glance, and you bristle, crossing your arms and giving him a defiant stare.

"i think you're overestimating how strong you are." you shake your head, the defiance melting into earnest. "seriously though. i don't know much about treating wounds and i really don't want it to get worse."

he throws you an indifferent glance. "what's the point if they just send me back down there? at that point, little scrapes won't fucking matter."

you purse your lips. "i'm telling you, no one will snitch here."

"how are you so sure?" toji hisses back, ears pointing upward. you don't flinch, opening your mouth to answer.

"well—"

a knock interrupts you, and you both look to the door. toji's hackles rise almost immediatley, a low growl rumbling in his throat—something is off.

he can smell it.

the doctor walks in, blonde hair neatly pushed back and large frame covered in a white coat. his smile is friendly and mature, demeanor calm, and yet all toji can focus on is that this doctor is not human.

the short and rounded brown ears sitting atop his head is a clear indication.

toji almost hops off the bed. he has half a mind to take your arm and drag you out of there because why on earth is there a predator hybrid here at the doctor's office?

but before he can make a move, you're smiling wide at the blonde, voice coming out sweet and casual. "hi kento."

toji blanches, watching this "kento" guy exchange pleasantries with you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

do you just make it your business to go out and become friendly with dangerous predator hybrids? because toji cannot understand how a little human like you knows a fucking bear hybrid so well.

"is this him?" the doctor asks, finally looking at toji perched on the examination bed. you nod mutely, eyes raking over his figure.

the blonde steps forward, reassurance rolling off of him in waves because he can probably smell toji's apprehension. you do your best to bridge the gap.

"um toji, this is kento nanami." you motion to the blonde, who is watching toji like he's a specimen under a microscope—it makes toji's skin prickle. "kento, this is toji…um…"

he realizes that you're missing information and he spits out his last name quickly. "fushiguro."

"pleasure to meet you," nanami nods courteously. "though i wish it was under better circumstances."

"you're a hybrid." toji blurts it out before he can think twice. you throw him a semi-disapproving glance, but he doesn't pay it any mind, gaze too focused on the doctor's clearly animalistic traits. he recieves a placating smile in return.

"i am," kento nods, looking down at the chart in his hands. "and it seems like you are too. wolf right?"

"yeah," toji nods absentmindedly, trying to brush past all of this. he's more curious about the bear so casually standing in front of him. a hybrid even being allowed into a position as highly respected as a doctor is already an amazing feat—that hybrid being a predator hybrid was even more shocking.

"like i said on the phone, he's got some cuts and scrapes on his stomach and arm. i didn't know how serious they were…" your voice trails off, and the blonde nods indulgently.

"it's good you brought him in. they might be infected or need further care."

he turns to toji, whose ears remain alert and upright, and picks up his stethoscope. when he approaches, toji bares his teeth, snarling.

he can see you grimace from his peripheral. "toji—"

"it's okay," nanami holds up a palm, before pinning toji with an unwavering stare. "you're worried about confidentiality right?"

"there's no way a fucking doctor can get around this," toji spits in return. his palms are sweating. all he wants to do is drag you out of there and go hide in your home, because there is no other place that is safe. "i don't trust you."

"you don't have to trust me. but…" the doctor subtly nods his head in your direction. "do you trust her?"

toji's eyes flicker over to yours, watching the tense worry swirl within them, and he grumbles incoherently. his stomach flips in on itself. nanami takes his reluctance as a go ahead, pressing the metal of the diaphragm against toji's chest.

the wolf remains silent, though he is still irritated.

"relax," nanami sighs. "i won't tell anyone. trust me, i know how hard it is to make it out of there."

toji watches with rapt attention as kento lifts his stethoscope off, and his green eyes zero in on the branded numbers burned just under the doctor's jaw—0703.

toji's skin tingles, just where his own numbers are burned. 1231.

bile rises in his throat, but he pushes it down.

"you got out," toji mumbles, not able to keep the surprise out of his tone. nanami nods, a soft smile on his face as he writes down toji's heartrate on his chart.

"about seven years ago." he nudges his glasses further up his nose. "i made a run for it and then laid low for a few months. after some time, they called off the search."

"huh," toji grunts, disbelieving. he's not quite sure how this guy has managed it, but clearly he's done something right to be standing in front of him.

"of course, i was lucky," kento laments, motioning for toji to hold out his wounded arm—he does so wordlessly. "i was not an extremely popular or sought out fighter, so they didn't put that much effort into trying to find me."

toji believes that. bears tend to be on the gentler side of the predator groups, and while he's sure nanami could easily handle himself in a fight, it is always the more aggressive hybrids that are the most popular.

he would know after all.

"after that, it was just about finding another place to build up my life again." toji barely registers that the doctor has begun numbing his arm, too focused on his anecdote. from the corner of his eye, he can see that you're listening in with rapt attention. "i decided i'd make use of my freedom and pursue my dream career."

you and toji spend the next half an hour listening to nanami talk about his experiences. all the while, the doctor skillfully stitches toji's wounds up, never once faltering in his movements. he talks about the escape plan, the relentless pursuit of soldiers, of remaining in hiding until freedom was finally found. toji feels an odd sense of camaraderie, knowing that he has gone through quite a similar process in the last few months.

nanami explains that laying low was the hardest part, always on edge while stepping into the light because you can never be sure who's hiding in the shadows.

toji will never say this out loud, but thank god he found you.

"since then i've made it my job to help others like me," kento finally finishes securing the bandages around toji's abdomen, before looking up with a half smile.

the wolf mutely stares back. he recognizes that his body has relaxed in the doctor's presence, and his gaze flickers up to meet yours. there's a look of satisfaction sitting in your eyes, probably relieved to see that his wounds have actually been taken care of.

when you notice him looking, you give him a soft smile—he expertly looks away.

"trust me. i won't tell anyone about you." nanami stands up straight, fixing his glasses, before giving you a warm smile. "besides, she's an old friend."

the doctor nods at you, and toji suddenly feels a strange streak of irritability, especially because you beam in return—so grateful and sweet. a stone sits heavy in the wolf's stomach.

"i really appreciate this, kento." you look at the blonde earnestly. "it took a lot of convincing to get him to come get checked out."

"it's good you did." nanami pins toji with a knowing stare. "conditions are rough back there. usually hybrids have more injuries than they know."

"really?" you look between the two of them meekly, and toji has half a mind to tell nanami to stop talking—worry is not a good expression on you.

"they don't usually treat their hybrids when they get injured in fights. so yes, a lot of them tend to have past injuries that don't quite heal." you nervously assess toji's body with your eyes, and the wolf can hear the soft chuckle nanami lets out. "don't worry. he's fine."

your shoulders relax, and toji watches you with rapt attention.

a few minutes later, nanami leads you both to the receptionist, who toji notices, is a dark haired mouse hybrid—ijichi kiyotaka is printed across his nametag. the doctor quietly explains something, and the mouse nods, before typing away into the computer. toji realizes that they are probably falsifying records, and he relaxes immediately. while you settle things at the counter, nanami addresses toji one last time.

"you'll need to come back in a week so i can see the wounds again. until then, just take care of it like i explained and you should heal nicely."

toji nods, ears twitching awkwardly. "right…"

"if anything else happens, don't hesitate to come in." the doctor adjusts his glasses with a friendly smile. "you're always welcome. be careful out there."

toji swallows. he is already unused to such blatant kindness, but now you've managed to surround him with it. maybe your stupidly sweet personality attracts similarly sweet people.

in that sense, maybe he shouldn't be allowed to stay around you, too dark and gloomy for someone so bright.

nanami takes the wolf's silence with a soft laugh, before he raises his hand to wave at you. you grin back, before heading for the door—toji immediately follows you out. the two of you walk in relative silence, quiet but not uncomfortable.

his body feels good now, probably because of the numbing agent and secure bandages, but regardless, he feels good. he has not felt this comfortable in a long time, but it's not completely unwelcome. as weird as it sounds, he thinks that he wouldn't mind being the silently hulking animal wandering the city at your side.

there is one thing he's itching to ask though.

"how do you know him?" toji asks casually, still staring straight ahead. he can feel your gaze land on him, but he does not reciprocate it.

"kento?" he bristles at the name, but nods. "oh well. a few years ago my friend had to leave for a two week long business trip. she has a puppy hybrid at home, and of course her hybrid knows how to take care of herself, but my friend told me to go visit her and just check if she was okay every few days."

there's a strange look of sympathy on your face as you speak, and toji reels at how easy it is for him to pick up.

"when i went over one day, i found her just passed out on the ground. i had no clue what to do. hybrids might look like us humans but their health and anatomy is a little different, and i didn't know a single thing about puppy hybrids. so i went online and looked up specific doctors and hospitals that were good for hybrids because i was too nervous to just take her to a regular hospital. that's how i found kento."

your lips quirk upward, half rueful and half fond. "i figured a doctor who was an actual hybrid would treat her better than a human doctor would."

toji listens quietly. he does not know many humans who would put this much consideration into hybrids, mostly because hybrids are kept as pets, not considered as equals. he cannot understand why you thought so deeply about a hybrid that wasn't even yours.

"anyways since then i've bothered kento with a lot of things." you chuckle to yourself. "like last year there was a stray cat in my alleyway with a broken paw, and i brought him to kento even though i could've just taken him to a vet or a shelter."

"why's that?" toji awaits your asnwer, ears twitching at the sound of your amused voice.

"kento's always been really sweet and gentle to his patients. i guess i just trust him." you turn to peer up at toji with a smile. "that's why i knew he wouldn't even think about ratting you out."

toji grunts in return, not wanting to admit that you're probably right. any other hospital or doctor would have to report that there was a wolf hybrid out there that was unaccounted for. since you are not his owner, they'd immediately throw him back where he came from—after all, predators like him are too dangerous to be left alone.

"if anything, you can visit kento for whatever. he'd keep your secret."

"you willing to bet on it?" toji asks you gruffly, and you smirk at him with a strange spark of challenge in your eyes.

"bet my life."

he grins—another feral display of animalistic behavior.

"that's a lot to bet," he comments, flashing his canines at you, and you nod back, pleased.

"i'm pretty confident in myself."

"hm." toji lips remain in their comfortably amused position. he briefly recognizes that his feet are automatically taking him back to your place, and he internally questions just how many times he has found his way back to you before.

"we have another stop to make." toji glances at you as you speak, raising a heavy brow.

"where's that?"

"clothing shopping."

he blinks, frowning. "why the fuck would we do that?"

"well since you're staying for at least a couple weeks until your wounds heal, you probably need clothes," you say matter-of-factly. "the pair of clothes i gave you are the only things i have. you need more."

he briefly wants to ask whose clothes those are, but he shuts his mouth, knowing it's none of his damn business. he can still smell them, the smell of some other man—his lip curls distastefully.

"i don't gotta stay with you for that," he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. he can feel his claws scrape against the fabric. "i can just go back to your precious doctor myself when i need to."

"and who's gonna pay for the visit?" you ask dryly. toji bristles, heat prickling at the back of his neck. you sigh heavily.

"look, i'm telling you i don't mind." your voice is earnest, and he can feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face. "i would feel really uneasy if you left and i didn't know what happened to you."

"why do you care so much anyway?" toji doesn't mean to sound so accusatory. he's now realized that you are just one of those stupidly rare good people, but even then he wonders why you don't just kick him to the curb and move on with your life.

but instead you frown at him, semi offended, and then roll your eyes.

"well…" you shrug nonchalantly. "we're friends. so i care."

friends.

toji almost scoffs in disbelief.

unsurprisingly, you are utterly ridiculous. he knows that you both have shared conversation for many weeks while he waited for food in your alleyway. and he realizes that he has stupidly memorized your schedule, so much so that he found himself waiting in the rain when you didn't get home on time. and sure, you had so tenderly and idiotically invited him into your space and treated his dirtied body with the utmost care.

but friends?

you really needed better survival instincts. and to stop being so trusting. it's stupid, and dangerous, and probably not good for you in the long run.

(but the word ignites a pleasant flame deep in toji's belly—unwavering and strong. he finds himself unable to extinguish it.)

an hour later, toji finds himself awkwardly rummaging through racks and shelves of clothing. the bright lights and intense air conditioning makes his hair stand on end, body feeling oddly exposed. but then his jade eyes scan the store and find your figure, curiously peering at items without a care in the world, and he relaxes a bit.

after a while of picking out a few dark and albeit plain pieces of clothing, he finds that shopping is somewhat enjoyable. the different textured fabrics are soft under his claws, and his ears twitch pleasantly at the sounds of music playing low through the speakers.

occasionally he'll look up from the shelves and see you in the distance—a few times you look back, and give him a sweet smile and a small wave that has his throat feeling strangely dry.

(it would be easy to devour something so openly waiting there.)

he immediately looks away.

toji briefly wonders what kind of clothes you tend to prefer, mind wandering. he bites back a huff of amusement when he thinks about the fluffy pajamas you were wearing when you came outside holding that stupid umbrella.

so damn silly.

"do they seriously just let animals roam around unsupervised?"

his moment of peace is shattered by a grating voice, shrill with age and obnoxiousness. toji turns to look over his shoulder, expression sour. though he towers over her, the old lady standing about five feet away from him looks anything but scared.

"you talkin' to me?" he raises a brow, hair standing on end.

"yes you," she sniffs in his direction, eyeing him from head to toe like he's nothing more than dirt on the bottom of her ugly boots. "animals aren't allowed indoors."

toji bristles, sharp eyes narrowing. despite being used to these comments, they still make his skin flare with heat. he briefly considers reacting how he normally does when he faces this kind of attitude—baring his teeth and spitting out growls and insults until the person is scared shitless.

but then he realizes that it's not like he can just snap at her and run away. his actions will so easily be traced back to you and your pristine smiles. he finds the idea of putting you in trouble to be nauseating.

so he bites his tongue, ears tense and flicking irritably—he's making decisions on your behalf now, too.

"i don't know how on earth they let you in here." she glares at him snootily, physically unable to shut up. "letting animals wander around without any—"

"actually he's mine."

toji turns to look at you as you take your place at his side, your voice clear and steady. warm fingers curl around his bicep comfortably, but there is ice in your expression that he has never seen before. you glare at the lady, who suddenly looks bashful.

"oh? that's so impressive. you managed to tame a beast this dangerous?"

he suppresses an eye roll, ready to walk you away from the ordeal, but your expression gets colder, anger radiating off of you in waves—toji does not know why it makes him so pleased.

"actually i didn't tame him at all," you hiss back, spitting the word like it's venom. "and if you make him mad i won't stop him from attacking you."

her face pales, but indignation comes off stronger. "excuse me? you don't know how to control your own pet?!"

"he's not my pet. he's his own person," you snap irritably, gaze cold—though toji can feel your heated aggression rising. "didn't you ever learn basic respect? for all your preaching, even hybrids know that better than you do."

she gapes at you, appalled, but before she can get another word in, you're tightening your grip on toji's arm and turning him away. "fuck off, bitch."

toji's ears twitch at the sounds of her angry sputtering in the distance, but his gaze remains zeroed in on you. your brows are pinched deep, and there's a frustrated scowl sitting on your lips as you drag him over to another section. "here, let's look at some of these clothes."

toji recognizes you are trying to change the subject, but he does not deny how your anger on his behalf feels so intoxicatingly addicting. he cannot help but push further.

"thought i would attack her, did ya?" he grins cheekily, canines glinting, and you huff. suddenly, you look rather embarrassed, peering up at him bitterly.

"i was just trying to get her to shut up. if you attacked anyone we'd be in big trouble."

"didn't realize you had that in you," toji ponders. for some reason, he cannot stop analyzing your microexpressions, finding some sick joy in looking at you. "not bad for a cushy little human."

you roll your eyes—toji's stomach flips in tandem. he can feel his tail lazily moving back and forth.

"wow, a compliment from the big bad wolf," you throw him a scathing smile, but he can tell you're joking. "what an honor."

"pretty sure you're scarier than i am." toji watches you rustle through the clothes on the shelves, a wry smile now comfortably resting on his face. "think you took a few years off her life."

"i hope she trips," you mutter, and toji barks out a laugh, clear and unfiltered. your lips twitch upward at the sound.

"hurry up and pick stuff so we can home," you whine with another huff, shoving at his arm. "i'm starving here."

the word home rolls over toji's body—it's warm and velvety and comfortable in a way that scares him.

he spends the next fifteen minutes rustling through the racks. you amble away to peer at other items while he does so, trying to give him his privacy. toji both appreciates it and resents it—something about you being farther away from him makes his body tense.

after a while he calls you back, shoving a modest pile of clothing into your hands. "here, i'm done."

he's hoping you just nod and take him to the counter, but yet again, he's underestimated you. you look through each item, peering at the price tags critically, before finally sighing.

"are you trying to pick cheap stuff on purpose?" you look at him with a raised brow and he groans—caught.

"i don't wanna put you out."

"ugh toji," you say his name with so much stressed exasperation he has to fight back a grin. "don't worry about that. i barely spend money to begin with. i promise you i can afford decent clothes."

he glances to the side, stubborn. he still does not particularly enjoy the idea of being indebted to you—not that he would ever say that out loud.

"if you don't pick honestly, i'm gonna find that lady and get her to annoy you again."

he blinks, looking at you and your haughtily raised brows and crossed arms.

"oh fuck please don't," toji groans, rolling his eyes. "she was—"

"a bitch?" you finish, shaking your head with a smile. "yeah she was. so please pick things out properly and don't make me go find her."

"fine," he relents, reaching out to pick up the first semi-expensive looking thing he can find. he holds it up to his body and throws you a mocking grin. "happy now?"

and yet when he looks at you, you're giving him the most genuine smile, satisfaction glimmering in your eyes. "yeah, really happy."

his mouth goes dry, and toji spends the remainder of the trip saying yes to everything you pull off the shelves for him.

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[yanderes-galore]

Romantic yandere Obito with darling who is a member of the Akatsuki concept

I loved researching his character! Hope you enjoy :)

Yandere Obito with Akatsuki! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Isolation, Violence, Blood, Murder, Delusional behavior, Denial, Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced relationship.

Obito is... strange to you.

Well, you never really knew him as Obito.

You first knew him as Tobi, a quirky fellow who adored annoying the team.

Along with... cling around you?

Tobi was a strange persona of is.

Then you knew him as Madara, an Uchiha meant to aid the Akatsuki.

Point is, you never really meet Obito as himself.

You meet his personas that he crafted to continue his plans.

Obito, however, knew pretty much everything about you in Akatsuki.

He took on the role of the true leader in the Akatsuki as you were all sent to hunt Tailed Beasts for a plan to change the world.

You genuinely wished to change the world when you joined Akatsuki.

So... safe to say your goals mostly matched up.

Obito doesn't usually like to think of romantic feelings.

That's understandable considering what happened in his past...

What happened to Rin....

Since that day he's tried to ignore romantic feelings.

Yet when he integrates himself into the Akatsuki and meets you...

It brings up emotions he wished he could suffocate.

Your personality reminds you of Rin at times and it makes him recoil.

Obito, even in his manipulated mind, has always wanted to make the world a safer place.

He's terrified of losing any more people like Rin.

So when he sees you, someone who reminds him of his past love...

He gets obsessive.

Even as Tobi he tries to deny it, but he can't help but feel protective.

As Tobi he often tried to hang around you when he wasn't pestering Deidara.

He always acts excited, asking how you're doing and how you feel about your fellow Akatsuki members.

It hurts him a bit when you call him annoying but that just means he's good at acting... hopefully....

When he has to play the role of Madara, he's much more authoritative.

If anything this benefits him as he can order you to stay on less dangerous jobs.

Obito often tries to ignore his romantic feelings, despite them showing in his protective behavior.

With his abilities it's easy for him to keep track of you.

Despite that he never sends you on Tailed Beast missions, just missions that require spying or planning.

Even then he never sends you alone.

While he doesn't like to admit it, Obito slowly tries to keep you by his side.

Part of him, the one that yearns to be appreciated and loved, wants to give in to his feelings.

You may not know him for who he truly is... but maybe later he can show you.

Just you.

You essentially become his replacement Rin... Which sounds horrible.

At the very least he feels it's fate he met you.

Rin must've led you two together to make him happy....

He really doesn't deserve you.

He knows he doesn't.

Yet he finds himself pursuing you anyways.

Obito is primarily protective of you.

He's using pretty much all of the Akatsuki to his advantage except you.

He doesn't trust any of them with you.

He doesn't think they'll keep you safe like he plans to.

Subconsciously Obito finds himself rushing his plan for your sake.

He's so focused on making you safe that he subconsciously uses you as motivation.

Obito would probably never admit his feelings for you.

But his actions say a lot more than he'd like.

After all, the only person he trusts around you is himself.

You're often stuck with him.

He chats with you so casually when you're alone, like he's more interested in you than the rest of the Akatsuki.

Granted, he needs Nagato's eye, but emotionally he's more invested in you.

He could sacrifice the rest of the Akatsuki for his goal.

But you? Never.

He refuses to lose anyone like you again.

Obito killing for your affection is given.

He's a strong character from a strong clan.

If someone was getting in his way, he's getting rid of them.

He doesn't care how much blood stains his robes or his mask.

You'll understand what he's doing is necessary, right?

You want a better world just like him, don't you?

Then him getting rid of a few nuisances or traitors shouldn't bother you.

Just listen to him...

He'll protect you since he couldn't be there for Rin.

Honestly, if something happened to you...

Obito would probably snap.

Something tells me an Uchiha snapping wouldn't end well.

Like... mass murder won't end well.

It's not too hard to tell you mean a lot to Obito even with the mask on.

His behavior with the personas he uses says a lot.

Obito would do anything to prevent losing the ones he loves.

He's already done murder quite a few times, isolating you isn't the worst thing he's done.

Hell, kidnapping you in a secret base isn't the worst of it either.

After all, He just wants you safe, right?

He claims you're weak, compared to the rest of your comrades you could easily get yourself killed.

What he's doing is protecting you... preparing you for a new world of his design... hopefully.

You don't trust a word he says.

You barely did when he was Tobi.

When he tries to give you affection, you smack him away.

A shame, really....

He was hoping you'd keep your loyalty.

Not that any of it matters now.

You'll learn Obito cares for you eventually... loves you even.

Not Tobi, not Madara...

Once he has you to himself he'll reveal he's Obito.

You deserve to know that now.

He knows you no longer trust him, how could you trust him?

Despite that... He hopes you understand eventually.

Maybe with a little bit of encouragement, you'll let him hold and cuddle you without fighting him.

Once you see what his plans are... you'll excuse the fact he's a monster, right?

Rin wouldn't want this... Part of himself screams that at him.

Yet Obito also knows this world has corrupted him.

To do the right thing... sometimes you need to do bad things...

You understand that, don't you?

After all... The Akatsuki aren't good people....

Obito knows he just needs to wait.

He's been waiting for a while.

Once his plan is complete... You'll see he was just trying to protect you.

Then you'll love him

He just needs to wait and put up with your resistance a little longer...

Then you'll be all his... safe in his arms... just like he would've done with Rin.

[thesharktanksdriver]

(English learning anon)

The moment Honeypie learned that a child will be coming to Devil may cry they quickly started to remove posters with women, heads of demons, Dante's dirty magazines(literaly snatched one out of his hands) and droped them all in his room on his bed(exept for demon heads, they throwed them all).

Imagine Honeypie talking with Nero, Credo, or Vergil/V about their experience at Devil may cry and telling them all about racoons at the back and their companion is like: "... what?".

Imagine how after one of love interests, Dante for this one, confesses his love and they needs some words to convince them that it's true, and with it they'll learn that he had this love for them over two decades and they are mortified by this fact.

(Also i have an idea for fanart to devils may love? Love interests enjoing a slice of honey pie, i have a drawing of dmc3 Dante but my skills isn't that high and camera on my device sucks but I'll send you a private message someday)

Oh for sure, Morrison gave Honeypie the heads up beforehand and they cleaned dmc from head to toe before Patty arrived. Hurricane Honeypie was a category 5 and Dante had to watch as all his dirt mags and his pin up poosters were thrown unceremoniously into his closet with the promise that “I’ll replace them later” which made Dante spit out his drink and suddenly he was a lot less upset his magazines were creased.

Speaking of, they actually cleaned his room and hid the aforementioned stuff because children and nosey and there’s no guarantee Patty wouldn’t look in there for whatever reason.

Yet another reason as to why Patty absolutely adores Honeypie, they did this best to accommodate for her.

During the time Patty cleaned and did odd jobs around Redgrave during dmc anime 2007 I like to think she occasionally crashed at honeypie’s and they let her use the guest room that temporarily served as Trish’s room for while. At some point when more of the crazy stuff of the series goes down and Patty has nightmares honeypie ends up telling her pg versions of Dante’s adventures to help her go to sleep.

Tbh Nero, Nico and V honestly thought that they were exaggerating about the raccoons. Dante would make off handed comments about them alongside Trish but none of them except what they find. The raccoons in the back not only have a trash palace but it’s entirely made of pizza boxes, Chinese rice cartons and trash cans. Somehow they had figured out how to have lighting in there and if anyone looks inside they’ll find the small group of bandits playing poker.

Dante taught them for some god forsaken reason.

Nico probably at one point joins them, she gets along with them the best and probably bribes them into helping her collect part for making devil arms.

Nero is just…well he isn’t really sure what to say. Listen, he’s been through a lot and all but this is just…so weird?? Like he regrew an arm like a lizard tail and all but like the raccoons in the back of dmc that seem wayyyy to intelligent to be raccoons freak him out way more than being stuck in the back of the van with Vergil and trying desperately not to make eye contact. He stays clear of the raccoons but unfortunately the raccoons don’t stay clear of him since they sense kinship with a fellow underdog….and kyrie once learning about them has begun feeding them so it gives the little shits even more reason to hound Nero for food and steal his lunch when he’s not looking (Nico gets a cut of the food since she provides them new shiny stuff aka loose bolts and screws)

I’m gonna make a division here between V and Vergil because both would have different reactions due to circumstances.

V just kinda rolls with it. Listen, he’s has Griffon yapping in his ear half the time and shadow purring up against Honeypie like an affectionate cat half the time. Weird raccoons are the least of his troubles when he’s a bad cough away from his body crumbling and dying. But he does find the little creatures to be fascinating. As someone with demonic familiars and knowing what it’s like to scrap what he can together while on the streets he feels an odd sense of affection towards the black and white stripped mammals. Griffon and Shadow also enjoy the critter’s presence, though V isn’t sure if it’s because either can understand their chittering or because they’re planning collectively to murder Dante.

Vergil on the other hand doesn’t know how to feel about the vermin. He’s mostly confused as to how and why Dante let them get to this point and is frankly a little insulted these creatures somehow were able to do highly difficult demonic rituals somehow. They also keep trying to steal Yamato because of how shiny it is, his doppelgänger however can sometimes be seen leaving scraps outside the makeshift draw-gate.

Yeah when the confession does happen it kinda becomes a group confession because after Dante confesses he mentions how literally everyone has been giving them hints and Honeypie is looking at everyone (minus Nico and Nero) like “please say psych right now”

Que them going around in a circle being like “wait what?!? Lady he’s joking right?!”

“Nope, been in love since high school”

“Trish?!?”

“Sorry, I’ve been trying to get you right after mallet island”

“Vergil?!?”

“….there was a reason why I didn’t discard you after Arkham”

“You guys don’t say anything within 20 plus years?!?”

“Honeypie we’ve been trying to lay it on you in every way possible and it has flown over your head each time-“

Honeypie is exactly as you said, completely mortified that they were the emotionally constipated idiot all along lololol

Also sure thing for the fanart!!! I love getting fanart or submissions of any sorts 🫶

[hypewinter]

Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-

"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.

"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.

Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"

"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."

It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.

"Wait. You're not angry?"

Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."

Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."

For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.

"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.

Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"

Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.

It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"

"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."

After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.

Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."

Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.

"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.

"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.

Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"

"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.

Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.

Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."

All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.

Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."

Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?

Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."

The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"

I told y'all I'd do it myself if I had to.

[speedycoffeedelight]

I don't know if how readers going to get everyone jobs once their all humans, I know you've only just touched on it and will be exploring it more later, but I could imagine there being sooooo many shenanigans around it.

~

Reader: Okay Charlie, it says here to fill in all your details. I got your full name, address, blah blah blah... Hey, whats your age? Forgot to fill that one in.

Charlie: Oh! I'm 271. Hehe, time sure flies by you know.

Reader: ... Okay. *types 27*

~

Reader: Okay, so there isn't any available host positions at the local station but they are looking for some intern with pay. It says here that there is an option to rise the ranks if you take them, is that alright?

Alastor: I suppose it will have too do, at least its better to work in radio than in any other pointless media. Besides, I'm sure they'll see I'm quite the suitable candidate if the current host needs to be... Replace.

Reader: Please don't kill our local host Al.

~

Reader: Age?

Angel: 36.

Reader: Date of birth?

Angel: 1911, just after the turn of the century.

Reader: *Do mental maths to figure when Angel should have been born if he's currently 36*

~

Reader: Any useful skills relevant for the job in question?

Lucifer: I have been the King of Hell since its creation, that should count for something.

Reader: ...

Lucifer: ... Um, I am a hobbyist toy maker? Would that help?

~

Reader: So it says that there are plenty of bars, restaurants, clubs and café in the area looking for waiting staff. Do you want me to send your CV to all of them right now or do you want to look them over first?

Husk: I don't see why I can't just walk in and ask for a job, that's what we used to do. You even printed a CV out for me, that's alot more than I had when I first got employed.

Reader: ... You do not understand how much I currently wish ya'll could do that.

Okay I absolutely love all these little scenarios you've made and I can definitely see them happening 🤣🤣

Readers gonna have one helluva rough time getting them in jobs and with this cast, woooo boy!!

I feel like we both have the same brain rot for this au (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

[fricc-darn]

A Cultish Christmas

(BEN fluff?! It's a Christmas miracle!)

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It was that special time of the year again. Cold white specks that blanketed every little thing have replaced the falling amber leaves. Holiday lights and other accompanying decorations were visible across various homes in the neighborhood. No matter where you went, there was stark reminder that today was Christmas Eve.

You didn't know how you felt about the holiday anymore. Always, there was a sudden urge. A spark, an eagerness for another opportunity to make this Christmas better than the last. To try new foods, attend events, and maybe even go to a holiday party. However, the ugly truth of reminiscing was that these thoughts were a cope. You were yearning for what the holiday once was, what it felt like. Cursed nostalgia has you chasing a high you haven't felt since childhood. 

Nothing has been the same, especially in the last few... years? Time meshed together; it was hard to keep track of time with so much happening. Your mind never fully adjusted to the change; how could one adjust to a malevolent hive mind choosing you to be their lifelong plaything—lover? You weren't mad about it, not anymore. The relationship wasn't conventional, but you grew to love it. 

Occasionally, you wished BEN wasn't awfully stubborn. Here you were, hunched over in your chair, at the crack of dawn, typing away at your computer, going back-and-forth with BEN. Trying to convince it to celebrate Christmas with you this year.

Your eyes skimmed over what you typed once more before hitting send.

"Please BEN!! Let's go ice skating or walk around downtown to look at all the lights. It'll be really fun I promise!"

"No."

A loud groan bellowed from your throat. Your hands rubbed your face, trying to subdue the built-up annoyance. A fruitless effort trying to force a horse to drink water. BEN showed no desire to go outside, only using its physical body indoors, around you. Given how jaded it was from days of yore and how deplorable humanity is, BEN clearly did not want to be around those it deemed as lesser. Not like its rationale made this any easier. 

Your hands clicked on the keys.

"Then help me finish decorating the tree. I want to put at least one gift under there, so let me get you a gift!"

"Someone is frusterated."

You reclined back in your seat, rolling your eyes. Maybe you could try going out on your own, but it would be no fun without them. Was this holiday apathy some religious thing? BEN's explanations about its beliefs were a vague and convoluted puzzle you have yet to solve. At worst, celebrating could be a sore spot for the Moon Children.

Your fingers intertwined, fiddling with your thumb. Glancing around the computer screen, you spoke in a hushed tone, walking on eggshells. "You know... You're not committing a cardinal sin by having fun. Christmas is not all bad if you think about it differently. I promise you'll have fun."

BEN wouldn't have admitted how it appreciated your consideration. You always tried to weasel your way into understanding what little you knew about how it felt on pressing matters. Trying to cheer it up was admirable, to a fault. You spoke too much about what you didn't know.

This was not necessarily a matter of sin. This was a matter of right and wrong—semantics. The holiday is superficial and a waste of time. For a day, people pretend to get along and splurge on plastic garbage while others starved, a holiday derived from a tall tale. Simply put, your enthusiasm had them asking why. You were better than this nonsense.

They'll humor you. Your behavior has greatly improved compared to years past; good behavior should be rewarded after all. They've had plans in the works. The coveted notion of converting you into a believer. They wanted to test your willingness to leave all of this behind. To push your devotion to them beyond your limits. For you to be completely theirs, it was an entertaining idea. Occasionally, indulging your frivolous wants would come to their benefit in the long run.

BEN watched as you fussed in your seat. Muttering how you would be downstairs in the living room if needed before you stormed out of the room.

An hour had passed since then. You stood before your creation. A mediocre tree, but it was your mediocre tree! The decorated fern was adorned with sentimental ornaments and cheap multicolored lights, with a cute topper at the tip of it all. Slowly, eying the tree to the base, the emptiness chipped at your glee. Turning around, you bumped into BEN, your pitchy shrieking echoed off the walls, mixed with BEN's maniacal laughter. Before you fell over and capsized the tree, it quickly grabbed you.

"I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that; it's not funny—" Your ridicule came to a screeching halt realizing BEN was wearing a winter outfit. A warm, deep blue and white jacket with gloves. Dark snow pants and boots, as if it weren't tall enough. BEN looked adorable! It was always fashionable, its smile elevated anything it wore. Squealing, your hands trembled with delight, reaching out to hold its face.

BEN let you cup its face, momentarily that is. It took a step back, staring you down. "Go change before I change my mind."

Sporadically, you nodded. Hurrying past them and up the stairs, you burst into your room. You rummaged through your closet, throwing together a nice outfit for the long Christmas date ahead. 

The moon beamed overhead, softly illuminating the sky. The streetlights aided in brightening up the freezing walk back home. You two spent the entire day out and about. The two of you were laughing, walking hand in hand, cracking jokes about stuff that happened today.

You took a quick peek at BEN. Whispy strands of green hair blew in the wind. Its cheeks and nose were a cherry hue, yet BEN didn't seem bothered by the cold. "I'm surprised how well you blend in; you even got compliments! I still can't believe how easily you bullshitted that goth girl about your hair color."

"Heh, easier for me to blend in than it is for you to walk on icy pavement." BEN was genuinely amazed by the plethora of close calls that happened in one night. Your excitement got the best of you, almost falling and splitting your head open so many times, you had to have broken a world record. BEN tightened its hold on your hand as you approached the frozen sidewalk that led to your house. Those lazy degenerates for neighbors could not bother to salt the ground.

Looming over you, it watched as you fumbled with your keys. The keys jingled a soothing melody among its thoughts. You looked exhausted; good. They were content the night continued to go as planned. 

The door creaked open, you daintily pulled BEN inside. It hung up its jacket and placed its boots on the shoe rack. You kicked off your boots and yawned, mumbling your gratitude. "This is hands down the best Christmas ever... Thank you, BEN." Slowly, but surely, you hung up your coat and gloves. "Did you guys enjoy yourselves, even a little bit? I'm sorry if the strangers got too annoying." You spoke under your breath.

'Did we enjoy ourselves?' BEN pondered. Instinctively, they wanted to deny the lingering truth, but chose honesty. The Moon Children enjoyed themselves to varying degrees. Some took pleasure in sightseeing; others preferred the parade, catching the goodie bags being thrown, even if they had no use for them. It reminded them of when—well, those times didn't matter anymore.

Ultimately, your presence is pleasant... accepting this truth continued to be painfully shameful. BEN let the silence linger on; there was no point in answering if you were hardly awake. It took a step closer, shaking your shoulder. "Go to sleep. It's late."

Just like that, you jolted awake. Shaking your head and whining. "Y... Yeah, but I wanted to stay up longer." Your eyes stared at the tree in your periphery. A Christmas cuddle sounded nice. Cautiously, you continued, "Maybe we can watch a movie or something?"

BEN's eye twitched. You still wanted to do more? After everything you did today? What are you, a brat? It huffed, relinquishing its anger. BEN lowered to your eye level, red irises studying your tired face. It could feel your nervousness rise whenever it got close.

Tenderly, it held your cheek with its hand, grazing the soft skin with its thumb. "Don't be stubborn." BEN grabbed your waist, pressing against your body; it kissed your lips sweetly. "You must sleep. We have something for you." Its voice was a whispery serenade as it walked past you, up the stairs, and to your room, leaving you shocked.

Your mind raced with ideas. Your thudding heart fueled you as you raced up the steps, barging into your room, yet BEN was gone. You took their words to heart, especially after today. Confirming your belief that they weren't all that bad, just temperamental. If they were awful to their core, BEN wouldn't have even bothered spending time with you today.

When you finished getting ready for bed, you plopped onto the mattress. Wrapped under your blankets, you tossed and turned. The adrenaline coursing through your veins clashed with your drowsiness for minutes, until exhaustion gave way.

Muffling. The dulled chitter-chatter fizzled out when your eyes fluttered open. You were graced by a heart-shaped mask with an unrelenting gaze, surrounded by other masked faces. Your body jumped in surprise. Sitting up, you realized there were many familiar faces of varying ages resembling the game's NPCs. 

An awkward standstill took place, a staring contest between you and, what your mind could count, seventeen others. You grew nervous. Fidgeting with the blades of grass, you attempted to pay no mind to your blushing face. Until a laugh broke the silence.

One of the masked children giggled, practically snorting. "You're nervous. Funny." Their ridiculous snorting set off a chain reaction, causing the others to laugh. They exchanged comments about how scared you looked and that your sudden shyness was comical. The tension melting away cracked a smile from your lips.

Another masked child added on in a matter-of-fact, neutral tone. "You know how to play along; we like that."

At the center of the group, Majora nods. Majora never spoke much to you, nor did you see them often. "Yes. Your fun; you made Christmas very fun too." Their girly voice, murine and juvenile.

Soon after, an older member leaned down, whispering into Majora's ear. The two conversed while others listened in, joining the murmuring. The group giggled as the talk finished. Majora turned back to you, taking a brief look at you sitting on the grassy fields of Termina. Majora approached, lifting their covering to reveal their face.

You held your tongue; it wasn't the first time you had seen a Moon Child's marred visage. Certainly, it was not an easy sight to adjust to. Deep gashes on the face and clouded irises, like a muddied pond. Scleras bloodshot and inflamed. Your heart ached seeing someone so young be this hurt. Yet, she—or at least that's what you assumed—was a diamond in the rough. They were all beautiful in their own right.

"We have a present for you." Majora whispered. After adjusting their dirty blond bob, Majora pulled something out of their pocket. Holding it behind their back.

You did a double take, shaking your head and stammering. A gift? They have never given you a material gift before. BEN's gifts were symbolic, like quality time or letting you live. Majora sat in front of you, opening the small sachet that was once hidden. What tumbled out made you gasp.

It was a solid gold necklace, the centerpiece crest moon pendant with a turquoise-colored gem. The jewelry was similar to what BEN always wore.

"It has been ages since we spent the holidays with someone besides each other." Majora leaned in, unclasping the necklace while the others watched on, humming in agreement. "There's not much we can give to you, but we wanted to thank you for your good intent...." Their hand moved away from the jewelry once the clasp was on, looking up to see you all teary-eyed and babbling questions.

The others surrounded you, getting a better look at the waterworks. Someone in the group answered. "It's a lunula, with a moon tear."

A masked face spoke up. "Yes, it is a protective necklace. Luna's grace will protect you when we are not around."

"Do you like it?" The group spoke in a synchronized manner.

Them being so in tune with one another would have been unsettling if you weren't elated. "Yes! Of course, I love it, BEN." No way in hell were you skeptical of the protective properties of this gift. If the Moon Children were giving this thing to you, it's going to work.

"Good." Majora said in a low, honeyed tone, smiling wildly, that their missing tooth was visible.

They leaned into you for a firm hug, almost as if they didn't want to let go. Sowing the seeds of devotion in you as they nuzzled you. You held them in your arms; they were small enough to pick up with ease. Though you wouldn't dare test the thought.

Majora hummed. Premeditation aside, they were relaxed; a genuine sense of comfort washed over them. You were the only outsider they liked to be held by after some warming up. It was a rare occurrence that they even wanted such affection. Majora spoke in a dreamlike, hushed tone.

"We will be there when you wake. We love—"

A grating, piercing alarm blared in your ears, ripping you from the sweet moment. An alarm you don't remember setting. With a grunt, you rolled around in bed wanting to get back into the fading moment. The cold metal against your skin gave you goosebumps, but it soothed you.

Shifting your focus onto the necklace, you smiled. That nostalgic emptiness you once held was replaced. The minuscule glimmer of hope you clung to meant something to someone. You analyzed the necklace, looking over every curve and engraving. The polished gold of the crescent moon harbored your reflection, smiling at your mirror image. A faint, glitchy voice emitted from your phone. 

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5

A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

This is not going to plan at all.

Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!

But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.

[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?

[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.

[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.

[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.

[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.

[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.

He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.

Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.

"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.

You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.

He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!

God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.

And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.

"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.

"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-

"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.

"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.

Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?

But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.

The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.

[tf2occontest]

The Barman VS Ned

(Full matchup list here)

Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}

So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P

OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!

We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!

The Barman (Thomas Armstrong)

@trypo-p

Image credit: @/trypo-p

Born and raised in Stratford, Ontario, Barman is an affable gentleman who specializes in the art of mixology. Among the mercenaries, Barman is relatively tame in comparison; he gets along with everyone and is seen as an almost "parental" figure to most of the team. Whether it be telling old stories of his life back in Canada, or smacking Scout on the back of his neck for forgetting his manners, he has his ways of making the team remember that he's their elder.

Most of the man's time is spent in his makeshift bar in the team's base, or in his own room. That, of which, contains a multitude of model train sets. Sadly Barman was unable to live his dream of becoming a train conductor, but he can still lose himself in the fantasy when he's alone in his room with his models.

When he's in his bar, however, he gets to have casual conversation among his teammates. During his time working for the team he had become quite friendly with Demoman and Spy, often spending nights with them at the bar after a long battle. He'd listen to everyones worries, give them advice, then laugh the rest of the night away to lighten up the mood.

Ned

@el-beau

Image credit: @/el-beau

Frode ‘Ned the Net’ Havn is a 34 year old fisherman who led a grief stricken, excruciatingly boring, quiet life in the village he was born and raised in – Selbyen, Norway. Having spent his days fishing, taking care of the wild seals and perfecting his net tying skills, the least he expected was that damn company.

Team Fortress Industries bought up the village in their insatiable thirst for land, intending to empty it to reform it into a violent playground for Mann Co.’s mercenaries. Frode, as the last man standing, took it upon himself to rebel against the cruelties of the company through a display of such violence, that they had no other choice but to SEAL a deal with him, to use what few capabilities he has to their advantage – or at least watch him get stuck in a near infinite loop of dying and respawning for their own sick amusement. Through the contract, he’s at the very least capable of sending the entirety of his paycheck to his displaced family and friends, wherever they may be.

Stripped of his name – replaced by the stupid rhyme Ned the Net–, equipped with a baboon heart and with the shakiness of a wet dog, Ned is thrown into battle with nothing but his trusty old tools, an additional handgun, and a formidable rage that’d built up his entire life, ready to be unleashed upon unsuspecting RED team members. If they’d suspect him, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Which is why he uses his immaculate knowledge of his birthplace’s layout to his advantage, sneaking around and CATCHing people off guard with his weighted NET – the ‘Big Catch’. Although a support class hailing from peace loving village people, he’s not reserved about defending himself if must be. By being ambidextrous, the man is certainly capable of – though not always successful at – pulling off a pin ’n’ kill combo, by reeling enemies in with the reinforced handheld ‘Harm-poon’ and letting them SLEEP with the FISHES with the ‘Sleeper’, a small pistol.

His near unhinged frenzy and trembling unpredictability might prove useful on the battlefield.

[oneofthosebells]

The more I sit with S3 of Young Royals, the more I love it. I feel like it gave us the revolution we were promised but it was personal instead of systematic, and that's okay.

Sometimes you can't burn down everything, some systems are too entrenched to change overnight. But even so you can choose to change yourself, and you can change the people around you, and you can learn and listen and grow. You can choose to put yourself first when you're up against an enemy that's too big to fight and the fight is making you lose sight of who you are. You can choose to walk away from the toxic situation. You can choose the friends that help you grow over the friends that hold you back. You can choose yourself and your friends and your family over the person you have romantic feelings for. And those are all revolutions in their own way.

Hillerska closes, ending the cycle of bullying and abuse. But the elite will fight to open it again because of course they will. That's how it works. The rich and powerful will always cling on by their fingernails to keep the status quo that works for them. (As Terry Pratchett put it, they'll "do what the aristocracy have always done, which is trim sails and survive.") But even if it does re-open, that doesn't undo all the good done by closing it, because things will never be exactly the same again. The school inspectorate will be breathing down their necks, they'd probably have to replace all of the board and most of the staff to re-open, and a few parents at least will re-consider sending their own kids there. Remember how Henry said the school was having problems finding students even before all of this happened? The old regime can't hold.

The monarchy wobbles, but will survive - or will it? Like the school, it's run into big problems. The monarch doesn't look like she wants to do this any more. Her consort is, let's be honest, about as much use as a jelly pickaxe. The only heir they have left is a teenage sex offender with an eating disorder and a pill addiction. So maybe it too is on its way out. Or maybe, like the school, they'll fight to save the institution at all costs, and probably they'll succeed; but something fundamental has shifted. A seed has been planted.

I just really like all the loose ends and unanswered questions tbh. I know it didn't work for some people, which is fair enough! But it really worked for me, because it feels realistic. That's life. This is a small snapshot of 9 or 10 months or so in the lives of a bunch of teenagers. Of course they're not going to have all their issues sorted out yet. Some won't have even realised what their issues are yet (cough, August).

But what this ending gives us is some small, personal revolutions in the present and hope for the future. (For the characters we love, anyway. August is a bit screwed. Yay!) And I think that's beautiful.

I don't think S3 was perfect by any means. There's things I could nitpick if I really wanted to (#JusticeForMaddie). But I just don't want to? Because everything we did get I love to bits, and that's more than enough for me.

[seelie-regent]

Sapphic Sleeping Beauty Steddie AU

Steve will be Sleeping Beauty, of course. Steffanie/Stevie

Eddie will naturally be the true love. Elodie

Al will be Maleficent.

Stevie's parents were having trouble conceiving and the royal court was talking about having the queen replaced since she couldn't produce an heir. In a desperate bid to ensure she wouldn't be disposed off she seeks out a fae for help. She goes go Al begging him to grant her the child she needs to stay on the throne. Al agrees but tells her it will come at a price. The Queen, thinking she'll be able to get out of paying back the fae, agrees. A month later the Queen's pregnancy is announced and the kingdom is over joyed.

The day Stevie is born Al comes to collect on his side of the deal, demanding a seat on the royal council. The Queen denys him and banishes him from the kingdom. Outraged Al curses Stevie to fall into an eternal sleep on her 18th birthday only to be awoken by true love's kiss. In a desperate bid to try and circumvent the curse hoping if Al doesn't know where Stevie is the curse won't come to fruition the send her away with Claudia, the woman who was meant to be her wet nurse and nanny. They tell her to raise Stevie as if she was her own and to tell no one the truth of who Stevie is. They forbid the entire kingdom from speaking of the princess and keep the curse a secret.

As a precaution the king and queen seek out a seer to tell them who their daughters true love is so they can make sure they have someone to send after her when it's time to retrieve her. The seer they hire sees Elodie and in a panic lies claiming her true love to be Tommy, the prince of another kingdom. Overjoyed they arrange a marriage between the two and Tommy is raised being told Stevie is his true love and being fed made up stories about Stevie to make sure he'll fall in love with her.

Meanwhile Stevie is thriving under Claudia's loving care. Elodie lives with Wayne and has pretty much her whole life. Stevie, Elodie, and Robin all live next door to each other and are borderline inseparable. You never see one with out at least one of the others. When Dustin is born Stevie takes to baby sitting him while Claudia works as a maid for some of the nobles in town. Eventually she starts looking after Dustin's friends too as he gets older. Dustin adores his older sister and calls her his best friend to everyone who will listen and gets into pissing contests with Robin and Elodie when he feels like they're taking up to much of Stevie's attention.

Over time Stevie and Elodie fall in love but are both to scared to say anything. Then Stevie 18th birthday finally arrives. And Al rolls into town terrifying Elodie who has a few memories of him from before she lived with Wayne. She's even more terrified when he takes Stevie. That doesn't stop her from trying to stop him though. But she fails and instantly starts preparing to go after him, Robin at her side. Dustin insists on going with them but Elodie refuses knowing Stevie wouldn't have approved.

Tommy shows up just as Elodie and Robin are getting ready to leave. He prances about declaring he's Stevie true love and betrothed revealing Stevie's a princess and will never be returning to this town once he retrieves her. Everyone is pissed. Elodie and Robin, the kids, pretty much every adult in town. They can't stand how he talks about Stevie. The thing he says proving he knows nothing about her. Elodie snapping at him saying exactly what she thinks of this and Tommy. Tommy retaliates by saying it doesn't matter what she says and informs her that he's supposedly Stevie's true love. Elodie refuses to believe it. Her sweet Stevie could never love someone like Tommy. She vows to never let Tommy near Stevie.

Now it's basically a race against Tommy. If he gets there first Elodie and Robin know they'll never see Stevie again. They must make it past obstacles set by Al to keep people away from the sleeping princess. Meanwhile back in town the kids are scheming on how to go after Stevie. They refuse to stand by and do nothing. That's when they meet El. A fae child, a young nymph who offers to help having seen Stevie and the kids and longed for the care Stevie shows them. And so off the kids go. El listens as Dustin and the others screech about how Tommy's not good enough for Stevie and there's no way he's her true love. El offers to check and confirms that he's not and revealing Elodie is.

Meanwhile Elodie and Robin have beaten Tommy and his group of knights by mere minutes. Al is there waiting for them. He baits Elodie and threatens to truly kill Stevie if the two don't back down. This awakens Elodie's latent magic the her human blood had suppressed. With Al now out of the way all that's left is to wake Stevie. And Elodie does. Overjoyed that she's truly Stevie's true love. As Robin is helping Stevie up Tommy shows up with his knights holding the kids captive.

Stevie's ready to kill him instantly for even daring to threaten them. Tommy is furious that Stevie is awake already proving she's not his but he refuses to take it at face value and claims Elodie used the magic he just saw her use on Al to magically reverse the curse. Elodie tells him just how stupid he has to be to believe that. Her new magic makes it far easier to deal with Tommy and the knights then it would have originally been. Especially with El's help.

They return home, happy. Where the Queen and King are waiting. Stevie flat out refuses to go with them. As far as Stevie is concerned Claudia is her mother and she wants nothing to do with the throne. With El and Elodie backing her they can do nothing but leave.

Stevie and Elodie get married not even a month later. Happy and free.

[dozing-marshmallow]

I just saw that you write for different -dere types so can I get a yandere Francis Mosses x reader one shot?

Ohhh yes! Thank you so much for sending this request in, I hope everyone’s been having a great Saturday and enjoy reading!☺️💚

Content warning: abduction

YANDERE! FRANCIS MOSSES X READER ONE SHOT

——

You were handcuffed on his bed in his dark bedroom. Francis calls them “our”, but you would never dare disrespect yourself by linking some kind of connection between you and him again. He had tricked you. It was all your fault, you should never have trusted him. He invited you over and you accepted, not knowing you were never stepping back out. You thought it was the last breath you’d take, but you were so insanely wrong.

He had been keeping you as some sort of pet. A doll of affection for him to kiss and play with after he was done with delivering milk bottles. You could never have imagined a reality where your tired, but kind milkman, neighbour had in fact been delaying his erotic desires every time he saw you.

You wonder, if you never stepped in, would things be different?

The bedroom door opened and you winced, the whiteness of Francis’ uniform was a blindness to the darkness you’ve adapted to. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, though not a scratch on your body, some on your brain, certainly. The first night was horrific, confronting and spitting at him for deceiving and trapping you. Now that you never worried about him physically hurting you, you only worried about how long it would take before you were free. Monotony has taken over your days. You never thought you would miss going to work, you were probably replaced by now. All you do is just sit there in the dark. Francis has left plenty of things for you to do while restrained, books, the tv remote, but liberation was a no no. He claimed it was because he…”loved” you. What a sick excuse.

"Mmmm pretty (Y/N)..." your neighbour murmured, kissing your lips,"I have your food for you. It’s your favourite.”

"Francis, you've been getting my favourite for a week now." you sighed, the fire of your soul not put out, gazing down at the ready meal on your lap. It wasn't your favourite anymore. It was disgusting, revolting. You can’t believe you have to put another one of these in your mouth,“If you’re going to keep me trapped here, at least let me pick what I’m going to eat.”

"Mmmm you are always asleep before I can ask in the morning…” Francis tenderly explained, scooping a plastic spoon into the food and rose it to your lips.

The sight of it wrinkled your nose. You were going to have to eat it, since if you managed to knock it and spill it onto the floor, Francis would simply clean up and buy a replacement,"You’re sick. You'll never get away with this." the snarl left your teeth, like it has every other night.

Francis lowered his arm, getting the implication you wouldn’t eat just yet,"Mmm… Why do you say that?”

“The police will figure out that you’ve been holding someone hostage here, Francis.” you spat. You hated that man in front of you so much.

A tiny mocking smile sprouted on his lips,“Mmmm you think the police care about abductions when there's dopplegangers on the loose? Besides, you are safe, aren’t you? I haven’t hurt you, you’re fed, no dopplegangers here.”

You would much prefer being murdered by that monster, than rotting with this monster,"They'll care more about a vacant apartment!"

Francis rested the spoon in your food,"No they won't. They'll think you got murdered on your way home and write it off as that."

You were taken aback by Francis’ risible claim on the police's hypothetical actions,"They're not stupid!"

"But they are, sweet (Y/N). How can I leave your safety to such people, mmm? I don't want anything bad to happen to you." he whispered, caressing a cold finger across your cheek again.

He was the bad thing. This physical touch will never silence you,"Someone in this apartment building surely cares! Someone in here must suspect you!” It just felt sad. Had you really glazed over the warning signs?

Your desperation for some kind of outside help was feeding Francis’ own assurance,"Mmmm no... No one suspects the tired milkman to have you here like this."

It was painful to think about all those times you flashed him a smile and said good morning to him,"I trusted you."

"You still can trust me..." he murmured, tilting your head up with both hands under your chin and kissing you on your forehead. A bit of you died with every forceful kiss he placed on you.

"No, I can’t. Not after you’ve done this to me.” you attempted at biting his hand, which he had retracted back instantly,“I’ll make sure you rot in jail.”

Francis hummed,"Mmmm I don't understand what you are complaining about... You get to live without any worries. All I ask is that you love me in return." and he leaned in again to lick behind your ear lobe.

Oh that warm wetness of saliva you never asked for! The disgust never faded away, loudly gagging, screeching,"Love you? Never. You can’t keep someone in your home for the justification that you love them and expect them to like that! This is psychotic behaviour, and I will never accept this inhuman position you’ve forced me into!”

Crisping your disgust, Francis had taken his time sucking near your ear, forcing the back of his twisted head in your sight, how badly you wanted to set it on fire, and only when he was done, he made his answer, face to face,“Mmmm, fine by me. I still have you here, right where I can see you everyday.”

You were the one with steel locked around your joints. Nothing you say corrodes him. You might as well ask for a different meal tomorrow. He agreed.

[chaoticreation]

10/29/23

This area is a death sentence without transportation. I'm running out of food, I can't get my prescriptions, can't flee in an emergency, and me and Syd have been freezing for like, a month, aside from the past two days because it's been surprisingly warm out for October. But November is around the corner, and it's gonna get cold. Fast.

I don't have the funds to repair my van, or the furnace.

Eventually, I'm gonna go homeless if the taxes aren't paid, but the van and furnace are extremely pressing matters right now.

If you can afford to donate, I'd appreciate anything you can spare. If you can't, that's okay. You can still help by sharing this campaign! Please don't donate if you can't afford to, but please SHARE no matter what!

OUR SURVIVAL DEPENDS ON IT. YES, I AM BEGGING. I'M TERRIFIED.

Gfm requires at least $5 donation, so if you can't swing that, you can send less to:

ven.mo: https://account.venmo.com/u/rroche90 pay.pal: roryjroche@outlook.com

Edit, 11/7/23: And we also don't have hot water now either. When the plumber came to give me an estimate on the furnace, he found that the hot water heater had a bad leak, so that was turned off to reduce damage.

Edit, 11/12/23: Septic problems now, too. Sinks are backing up. Woo! Still no heat, btw. It's been a month without heat and it's getting colder. Friend bought Syd a bigger hospital cage, but it hasn't arrived yet, so poor girl has to continue to suffer. Still no transportation, either. HEAP has said they'll pay half the furnace bill if I'm on the deed, which I can't and won't do until the taxes are paid off. I'm not about to inherit that debt.

@sydthetiel is being kept in a tiny hospital cage in my office with a space heater. Not ideal, but it's keeping her warm at least.

We're really not okay.

Edit, 11/16/23: Still no heat or hot water. Plumber isn't even actually getting back to us lmao. Mechanic got back to us, though, and they've found that the brake lines are rusted and need to be replaced. They want an extra $3500 for that. So it'd be roughly $6,000 to get my van repaired. Or I can just fix what I can fix at $2,000 and take my chances with rusted brake lines, and be an accident waiting to happen because I'm desperate to not be trapped in a freezing house with no meds or food or water lmao. Or I just don't get to have transportation back. Or I have to buy a new used vehicle, for like, $15,000+. So... mostly there's just no hope left for me. I'm ready to just give up. It's too much to fix, and my odds of survival are at 0 anyway. I won't last the winter here, and I can't even leave.

Edit, 11/22/23: That plumber ghosted us. We got a new plumber. He came out yesterday and got the furnace rigged to work, just in time. As he pulled into the driveway, it started sleeting and snowing. Throughout the night. The problem is, the furnace isn't fixed, so it could crap out at any moment. The water heater is off, but still leaking, so it's time sensitive to have it replaced. But he's pointed out another problem with that; Rex's hoarding. We need to be able to get rid of enough of her crap to get the equipment in and out. He can do it, but it's gonna cost. Additionally, the chimney isn't in great shape so we have to do something about that, or it's going to defeat the purpose of these replacements. Waiting for the quotes on everything.

As for my van, it's ready to be picked up, without the brake lines being finished. We found a new place that said they'd charge between $700-$1000 to replace the brake lines. A lot better than $3,500, but still not money I have. So until I can do that, it's a risk driving it, but I really don't have a choice. I can't stay living like this, trapped in the middle of nowhere. It's defeating me mentally and physically. But there's another problem too, that won't be covered under warranty. A knock sensor. No idea how much it'll cost yet, but it needs to be replaced in order for the van to pass inspection in December.

I'm feeling incredibly hopeless. I can't even run, because I have Syd, and I'm not going to abandon her. She's my kiddo. She's in a bigger cage now, happily. But I'm at such a loss of what to do. We're not going to survive the winter here without these repairs, and fleeing is going to be really difficult, and I may not have a home to come back to in Spring if I did manage to leave for the winter with Syd.

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

Obsessed with the implication of the word "vessel," and that the "God coming after the children" and the so-called "revenge" could have been smokescreen for a deep loyalty to God.

- OR - A deep feeling that God should be replaced, scattered, made in a new way with a new vessel and a new outlook. "He should be in everything." etc etc

Yes! Saying vessel is such a choice.

I. "God coming after the children"

Let's start by the Abraham and Isaac comparison.

In the Genesis, God promises Abraham and Sarah they'll have a son and sends Isaac to them. It's His meddling. Years later, He asks Abraham to sacrifice Isaac for Him to prove his loyalty, and when He is convinced a ram is sacrificed at Isaac's place.

The whole story is quite famous. There's no way the spn writers wouldn't have it into mind when Chuck goes all "Lookit, the– the– the gathering storm, the gun, the– the father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic!" (14x20) So it poses the question of how much he meddled for Jack to be born and for what reason.

Seraphina insists on Jack's birth being meant to happen thousands and thousands of years ago, betraying what looks like usual Heaven's plans to perpetuate the bloodlines that interest them. And those bloodlines are vessels. Her saying "Jack, making your vessel strong, reclaiming your human soul, it was... it was all preparing you for this." could be a slip showing the true motivations behind the trials.

Because it shouldn't be a vessel! Jack is a Nephilim. This body is his and he's born into it.

II. Adam: a revenge-seeking father or a loyalist?

There are several options for this but none of them are good for TFW.

1 – Adam is a pure John mirror. He really believes in his vengeance but he's only a puppet used by Chuck.

2 – Adam knows it's only a transfer and he and Seraphina are manipulating Dean and Jack by saying their plan is to kill God. He's either doing so for Chuck, either against him.

There's a problem with Adam's motivation here, even if he's aiming for the transfer of Chuck power. Like you pointed out, he has this little exchange with Jack:

Jack: They're just rocks but their existence makes them divine. Because God is in everything. Adam: Right on. At least, he should be.

Which feels a little too much like Jack's quote in 15x19:

I'm around. I'll be in every drop of falling rain, every speck of dust that the wind blows, and in the sand, in the rocks, and the sea.

Return to 15x17

Chuck wasn't God's vessel at the beginning, when all Adam's problems happened (the snake, being kicked out of paradise, going after Cain and Abel). When Metatron (one of the few angels who have seen his face) faced Chuck, he was annoyed by that prophet. Which means the Power is the real entity, and Seraphina and he (and Billie and the Empty) are only offering it a new vessel.

3 – Seraphina knows it's only a transfer, and she manipulated Adam the whole time. She's Chuck's pawn. How she could have gotten free from Heaven 300,000 years ago? Why does she still have enough power to keep a human alive all this time?

Little aside: Chuck used many of his old characters in this season: Lilith (technically Adam's first wife, brought back twice), Michael (after Adam Milligan's death), Lucifer… so why would Adam be any different?

III. Chuck's powers and manipulations

Later in the episode, Chuck is shown being able to mess with Amara's head (his equal) enough to push her to give up and yield her power and will to him.

Chuck: This is my ending. My real ending. Amara: You orchestrated this? Chuck: What part of omniscient do you people not understand? So I can't read my "Death Book." So what? I control space and time. Just plant a few visions, goad Death a little… Mess with a few outcomes… And… bada-bing!