#but also. “this would be good and healthy in real life” and “this is fun to explore in fiction” are not. the same.

[coraniaid]

buffy/willow and/or kennedy/faith

Buffy/Willow is definitely the more interesting option of those two to me. I don't quite ship it (for reasons I'll get into) but I can imagine a world in which I did pretty easily.

1) Why don't you ship it?

Honestly I think the main reason for not shipping it is just that I've not read any take on Buffy/Willow that really leans into the things I find potentially fun or interesting about the idea of the two of them getting together?

I mean, I've not really seen much Buffy/Willow content at all, but what I have seen tends to focus on AUs where Buffy and Willow slowly realize they have other-than-platonic feelings for each other in Season 4 (before Willow meets Tara) or even earlier, and that sort of best-friends-to-lovers, slowly figuring out your own sexuality in a careful and healthy way thing just isn't something I find that interesting for these two? Buffy Summers is so, so repressed and tightly wound and yet at the same time quite genuinely convinced she is (in her own words!) "pretty easy going", while Willow's dreams in Nightmares and Restless suggest on some level she views her entire life as an elaborate public performance where she has to always be wearing the right outfit and saying the right thing or people will see the real her and despise her. If you're going to ship them, why not let them be weird about it?

Also, while I do think Buffy and Willow's relationship in canon is significantly more compelling than Buffy's connection to either Giles or Xander (on pretty much every level imaginable), at the same time I think it damages the dynamics of the Core Four a bit too much if Buffy and Willow actually became some of sort of official couple. I don't put quite as much stock in the Mind/Heart/Spirit reading as some people, but I do think it's an interesting one and I think an actual canon ship would have distracted from that.

And finally I think I just strongly prefer Buffy/Faith and -- while I don't think it's impossible to like more than one incompatible ship at a time -- I guess I'd feel bad for Faith if she ever learned that Buffy was into women after all but was dating Willow of all people.

2) What would have made you like it?

To be clear I haven't ever really given this that much thought before today (except perhaps for that kind of flippant idea I mentioned a year or two ago for an AU in which vamp!Willow comes back in Season 4, gets caught by the Initiative and ends up getting chipped instead of Spike). So, fair warning, this is going to be a kind of rambling answer. But I think it's mostly a question of timing and context. They have to get together after having known each other for a while and in circumstances where it is very obviously not a good idea for either of them. I want messy drama and tears and conflict in my ship, after all.

I think, if I could choose, I'd go for something post-Bargaining, after Buffy has died and been unwilling brought back to life and Willow has at least started on the path down to becoming irrevocably changed by her overuse of magic. As I've noted before, Season 6 is the closest the show ever comes to treating Buffy and Willow as (almost) co-protagonists, as opposed to the previous seasons where Willow is more clearly Buffy's sidekick (even if she sometimes rankles in that role). I think that's when a hypothetical ship is most interesting narratively: when they're at their closest to being genuine foils and having similar character arcs. And I think a relationship when they're both going through some of the worst months of their life would be kind of fun (for me, anyway). There's still some weird power imbalance stuff going on, but it's not at all one-sided.

Let's say things start to diverge from canon around Once More With Feeling. Willow's relationship with Tara is already on the rocks a little at this point -- they're arguing about magic for sure, and maybe Willow has already used the memory loss spell on Tara -- but for her part Willow is still sure she can turn everything back to normal [with magic, naturally] if she just makes a bit more of an effort.

Instead of Buffy being forced by magic to publicly admit that she wasn't in a hell dimension in front of all her friends, something else (non-magical) happens which makes her admit it privately to Willow. Maybe Willow just casually says something to Buffy about how awful her time in hell must have been which makes her snap? That way there's already this terrible secret that ties them together (well, Spike knows too, but I don't think Buffy tells Willow that he knows and it's not like Willow and Spike are hanging out socially).

Obviously Willow is devastated to find out she wasn't saving her friend from a hell dimension after all, as in canon, but she Buffy almost immediately get into a pretty vicious fight when Willow suggests using magic to fix things (again). A furious Buffy tells her how much she hates being back in the world and how far away from "fixed" she feels. Everything she told Spike in After Life, but this time putting the blame solely on Willow. How she "wishes she could feel anything" and she should never have been forced to come back because she knew in heaven that "everyone she cared about was all right". At which point Willow breaks down in tears and insists that that can't be true; that Willow herself wasn't ever "all right" over the summer Buffy was gone, and how could she have been when her best friend was dead? And she admits to Buffy how much she missed her and needed her to come back, "because I couldn't look after everyone myself, and you're my best friend, and I love you."

And then Buffy kisses Willow. And Willow's into it, just for a second, but then she breaks away like she's suddenly remembering cheating on Oz in high school, and she stammers that she didn't mean it that way and she "can't do this to Tara". And Buffy watches her run off without saying anything, and she can't quite figure out why she did that: was it because she just wanted to feel something, or because she's somehow changed after coming back to life, or because a part of her always wanted to but never let herself admit it? Does she actually feel anything for Willow? Is she angry at her or in love with her or both (or neither?). And now the kiss is one more awkward secret that they share (because who's Buffy going to confide in, exactly? Dawn? her new friends at the Doublemeat Palace, once she starts working there? Tara?).

Then, later, after Tara and Willow's relationship collapses anyway (for much the same reasons it does in canon), and Tara moves out, Buffy and Willow start secretly hooking up again. Because Buffy still hasn't adjusted to being back in the world, and because Willow hates being alone and part of her wants to prove she was right all along and that she can make Buffy happy (and, maybe, that she's more than just Buffy's sidekick but somebody just as powerful and special and important as her).

And, while they're spending time alone together, maybe Buffy gradually starts letting Willow try to use magic to "fix" her a little bit after all: instead of Willow getting the magic addict subplot and Rack and bringing Amy back, maybe it's Buffy who starts needing magic more and more in order to feel comfortable in her own skin and be able to get through the day. Not to forget that she was in heaven, but to have brief access to those same comforting fantasies that everything's actually fine for everyone. Willow doesn't try to go cold turkey this time, at least not right away, but she does try to hide her use of magic more (which is tied into all her other secrets). Maybe in this AU Normal Again happens not because of a demon or the Trio but because Willow messes up while trying to cast a spell that's supposed to just give Buffy comforting dreams about a happier time in her life.

And sure, there are some echoes of Buffy/Spike at work here, and of the hypothetical Amy/Willow S6 ship I talked about a few days ago -- Buffy is partly just trying to feel something, and Willow is rebounding from Tara in the worst, messiest way she can. But Willow and Buffy have so much complicated history already -- they both really do care about each other a lot, more than either of them can say, whatever else is going on in their lives -- and I think that makes things more compelling to me. A ship where both participants feel like they're the one wrongly taking advantage of the other, that they're somehow selfishly letting their best friend down. And perhaps part of Buffy still wishes she hadn't been resurrected at all, but the one person who can make her feel fleetingly happy again is the very person most responsible for her being back. That's pretty compelling, to me anyway.

Then, at some inopportune point, everyone finds out anyway (and maybe the others finds out about Buffy having been in heaven at the same time). And of course Xander is weird about it, and Dawn is appalled, and Tara is heartbroken (because hasn't Willow been telling her how uniquely special and amazing Buffy is since they first met? hasn't it always been clear to her that Buffy and Willow are part of an inner circle she'll never get to join? no wonder Willow chose Buffy over her; no wonder she'll always choose Buffy over her). But Willow still does love Tara, she knows this thing with Buffy can't be good for either of them, and she promises Tara she'll stop doing magic or spending any time alone with Buffy.

And for a while things are just incredibly uncomfortable, because Willow moves back to the dorms and nobody is talking to anyone. But then Warren shoots Buffy, and Willow goes on her whole Dark Willow arc thinking Buffy is dead (but actually Tara uses magic to save her, the same sort of forbidden magic Willow used to bring her back to life months earlier -- because Tara did choose to resurrect Buffy in the first place, despite knowing the arguments against it and how it had to be done, and maybe she's not that different from Willow after all -- only it takes her a while so neither of them can talk Willow down and Xander does it, as in canon [but without some of the sillier parts of that plot: no secret master plan on Giles' part this time please]).

And yeah, this wouldn't be a fun time for either of them but I think it could be fun to read about. Because it would be messy, and complicated, and painful, and I guess that's the sort of ship I like.

Alternatively I could imagine a Season 7 AU, where Season 6 played out as in canon, in which Buffy and Willow just gradually fall for each after Willow comes back to Sunnydale. (Starting from that final power sharing scene in Same Time Same Place, I guess.)

I don't really think there's as much potential for drama here, but I do think this is the point a relationship between the two of them would feel most organic. We know Buffy's type is former villains trying to find redemption, after all, and that's what Willow has become now.

And I do rather like Kennedy/Willow, as I've said before, but it's certainly true that Buffy and Willow really don't interact enough this season. So as an excuse for making them do that, if nothing else, I guess having them gradually fall in love this season works as well as anything.

(Combining these two ideas, in a Season 7 AU that follows up the alternate S6 -- a setting in which Tara is still alive because she never did get back together with Willow and so wasn't in the house to be accidentally shot, I guess I can make everyone mad at me by having her end up with Kennedy.)

3) Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

Oh, yeah. absolutely. Like I said, I don't ship it myself but I absolutely think I could in the right circumstances.

Willow and Buffy are the two most interesting characters on the show to me, their relationship (platonic or otherwise) is one of the best parts of the show (and, as I said earlier, their relative lack of interaction in Season 7 is one of that season's big weaknesses).

It would be a very, very funny resolution to the initial Season 1 love triangle (in which Willow has an unrequited crush on Xander who has an unrequited crush on Buffy) to posit that Buffy in turn had a secret crush on Willow. I mean, I'll always be incredibly glad that the show didn't have either Willow/Xander or Buffy/Xander become a thing [no offence meant to Xander ... well, maybe a little bit of offence meant], but having Buffy/Willow be endgame could have worked too. (It worked for The Legend of Korra, after all...)

And there are definitely a few scenes in the show that you can read as evidence for Buffy having an (unacknowledged to herself) crush on Willow. Among others, we've got:

Buffy's reaction to finding out about "Malcolm" in I Robot You Jane, which can pretty easily be read as jealousy on Buffy's part ("I'm just trying to make sure he's good enough for you")

"I need my Willow" in The Zeppo.

Two scenes in Doppelgangland (Buffy's reaction to meeting vamp!Willow in the Bronze -- "holy God, you're Willow" -- and the way she looks at Willow in the library in the scene she realizes her friend is still alive

Buffy's attempt in Normal Again to assure Willow that the girl she saw Tara with must have just been a friend, because "Once you fall for Willow, you stay fallen." Is she speaking from experience, or...?

And of course it's very, very easy to read Willow's hostility towards Faith in Season 3 as a (probably unconscious) romantic jealousy, or to read something in to her impassioned defences of Buffy in Season 1 and 2 or the way she is so deeply invested in her love life (with Angel, with Scott Hope, with Parker, with Riley...). I don't think that's the intended reading, or even necessarily the only reading, but Willow does almost immediately like Buffy a lot and very quickly stands up for her in ways she very rarely does for herself.

Not to mention the fact that Buffy literally died for Willow just a few months after meeting her. She goes to fight the Master in Prophecy Girl for several different reasons, sure, but the most immediate trigger is talking to a tearful Willow who's just found some of her classmates murdered by vampires. In just a couple of on-screen minutes Buffy goes from begging her mom to let her run away from town because "she can't go to the dance" to telling Willow that nothing matters "as long as you're okay" and promising to do "what we have to" to keep her safe.

For her part, Willow literally changes the course of her whole life for Buffy. Whether that's learning magic or choosing to stay in Sunnydale after high school (I mean, she pretends she isn't doing that for Buffy, but come on) or, of course, bringing her back to life in Season 6. There's a lot of debate online about the ethics and motivation of Willow refusing to accept Buffy's death. Some people think it's selfish and a sign of Willow's increasing arrogance and hubris and she should have let Buffy stay buried and moved on with her life. Some people argue Willow is rightfully worried about what might be happening to her dead best friend's soul after jumping into a portal to a hell dimension, and that it's perfectly understandable to miss her best friend who died violently at such a young age, and that she's only doing what she thinks is right for Buffy and Dawn and the wider world. But surely something we can all agree on here, as serious scholars of the show, is that either way it's ... kind of hot?

I mean, Willow eventually goes on this whole corruption arc this season, and it all starts when she metaphorically sacrifices her own innocence and anoints herself with blood in order to rewrite the laws of reality and cheat death itself just to be reunited with the girl she's been obsessed with since from the very first day they met. I mean, yeah, maybe your favorite ship is cute and healthy and wholesome, but have either of them ever allied themselves with demonic powers in order to pull the other one out of heaven rather than go on existing in a world without them? Oh, they haven't done that? So they're just kind of casual, then? Not really that committed to the relationship yet?

... OK, maybe I do ship it a little bit.

[3416]

getting the mitch marner sads is the worst feeling in the world btw

[chestersbraincell]

Mann….out of all the things my brain could of brought up to wallow in RIGHT before going to sleep did it really have to be the realisation that I’m like. Completely alone in the world. I genuinely have no stable, healthy relationship like at all. Not even with myself. I know I don’t deserve nor am capable of forming and maintaining a relationship of any sort but like GOD DAMNNNN

[thesunlikehoney]

my most offensive and controversial star wars opinion is that every single clone/jedi ship is the exact same degree of Problematic

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 22 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A dark surprise is awaiting you - something that might change your entire life for better or worse, if it doesn't end before it could.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening (knife), mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues like nausea and puking, kidney failure, cockwarming, rough sex, penetration, oral sex, blood play, degradation kink, knife play, threats of torture and gore, rape (to a certain degree), the pregnancy is being threatened in a vile, graphic way, not beta-read! if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+! dark content ahead!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Author's note: I'm putting an extra note here, just to say: I think compared to the other chapters it gets kinda dark here, with real noncon vibes, so please be cautious of that before reading. Beware: Word count 12.278

When he came home, it always went the same way.

The door creaked open, then he closed it, set his briefcase aside and washed his hands.

Not a single time had he ever missed one of these steps. Washing his hands was like a sacred ritual. You did it, because you felt your hands vibrating the second you didn’t. Whenever you came in from wherever you were outside – and if only to check the mailbox – you had to immediately wash your hands or else you felt sick. It was a physical ache, your hands were reminding you that they needed to be cleaned.

You didn’t know if it was the same for him. Maybe there were other reasons, maybe he had the same kind of OCD. Whatever it was – he washed his hands. Every time.

And only then would he come and look for you, seek out where you were. Normally you’d either be in the kitchen or the living room. Sometimes you’d be typing mindlessly on the typewriter, lost in the cloud of your own imagination. It was much more fun than you expected and it reminded you not only of your father, but also the man you loved, with every letter. You loved the clicking sound and the hum every time a new phrase came to paper.

Other times, you’d be cooking. Ever since the first trimester nausea passed, you finally were able to eat again. Now you were craving things. Often savory food, but just as often it was some sweet nonsense. You tried to eat as healthy as possible, but often times you’d settle for some kind of cornflakes when he wasn’t home. It was alright though, so you told yourself. You had been through a lot and you deserved to calm down and relax a little.

There were those other days when you’d come up with the freakiest things. This gummy pudding, you had no idea what it was, but it was to be found in Korean convenience stores. He brought it home for you and it was disgusting, but you still finished it. Other times, you felt you were in dire need of spicy food – very unlike yourself. He still brought it home to you. One time was especially odd. You had just finished a giant portion of pasta (now that you could finally eat it again), but you couldn’t get one thing off your mind.

A McFlurry.

It was the one good thing you associated with your mother. Well, not her directly, but with your childhood.

Your mother had never been one to spoil you, but on some very rare occasions, when you were out in the city, which wasn’t quite often, she’d allow you some Fast Food. Like any other kid of course you were all for Nuggets and Fries, but the thing you loved most was the ice cream. The ice cream machine was broken more often than not, so it was quite the highlight when you got to eat it. You remembered one moment especially.

You sat on the worn-out red leather cushion, slurping on your ice cream, when you felt your mother’s intense gaze on you. You immediately straightened up, thinking you had done something wrong and she’d take the ice cream away for it.

“What is it?” You had asked in that quiet, unsure voice of a poor, insecure nine-year-old.

She kept looking at you for a long moment and there was something soft in her eyes, something she never let you see. Later that day, she’d send you to sleep in the wardrobe, because on the way home, you said something to piss her off, but then and there – she looked at you with kind eyes.

“Eat your ice cream, honey.”

To this day, the taste of it reminded you of that moment. That one time honey didn’t sound like a mocking curse, but something a mother would say to her daughter. Because she loved her.

Not, because she’d try to poison her a few years later.

So, many years later, you found yourself on the couch, picking at the last of your pasta, when you felt his gaze on you.

“What is it? Aren’t you feeling well?”

You looked up at him, your eyes soft. You didn’t want to mention your mother to him, but you did. You told him of the brief moment of kindness and the way you still loved that ice cream to that day.

And what did he do?

He got up and put his coat on.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’m getting ice cream.”

That made you smile, but softly. “But it’s almost midnight.”

He smirked in return, but his eyes were warm. God, it was so easy to lose yourself in them.

“Eat your pasta. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kept his promise and only twenty minutes later you found yourself curled into his side, licking the sweetness off the plastic spoon. “You’re such an idiot.” You murmured and shot him a smirk. “I can’t believe you did that.”

He snorted as he played with your hair. “Yeah. That’s the weirdest thing I’ve done so far.”

You laughed in response and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He grinned and took the spoon from you with ease. “I’m just saying.”

The next few weeks went on just as smoothly. It was almost like you were stuck in a dream. A part of you was constantly on edge, always expecting something horrible to happen. If it wasn’t your kidney to suddenly give up, it would surely be him. He’d do something – something horrible, something unforgivable, something to hurt either you or your baby…or you both.

But the more time passed, the clearer it became that he wouldn’t.

Every time you stared at him in silence, whenever you observed the way he nibbled on his pen while he filled out some paperwork, every time you watched him drive the car with a quiet hum on his lips, every time he did each of those things – the guilt was nearly suffocating you.

Of course you trusted him. You loved him, you adored him, he was the father of your child.

But he had also hurt you.

More than once. Repeatedly. Some of his ways more painful than others.

He looked so peaceful when he slept beside you or stirred something in a pot in the kitchen, while you watched him. He still brought you your fruit cocktail every morning, still seared your vegetables for you daily. And never did he complain once.

But it was inside of him. You knew it was there, buried under piles of kindness and love.

You saw it in the way his hand twitched, whenever you got into a minor argument. The way his eyes shone darkly and his lips pulled into a frown. The way he clenched his jaw over little things. Sometimes, he was trembling with barely suppressed rage.

One night, he almost lost control.

Almost.

It had started as a minor disagreement, you couldn’t even tell what it was about, but it escalated when it got to the point of you asking him why you still weren’t allowed to leave the house on your own. After all, you were carrying his child.

What would finally make him trust you?

But he nearly exploded. A few minutes into the argument you realized, it wasn’t him being paranoid and angry. It was him being concerned and possessive. His jealousy was easily triggered, even easier than your own and now that you had his child in your belly…

It didn’t make things easier.

“I would never leave you.” You muttered, shaking your head.

He let out an annoyed exhale. “I know that.”

“Then why?!”

“Because I said so.” He gritted out and shot you a dark glare. “And now shut up about it.”

“I won’t.” You had been feeling somewhat too confident that day. That was the thing with him. He made you feel so safe that you actually dared to speak up your mind and feel like you were someone. And when you did, it infuriated him. Not always…but whenever it went against his way of things. “I won’t, because this is ridiculous! I will not-“

“Shut up!” His fist shot out so fast that you hardly even recognized it as a movement. A sharp inhale later, you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your damp fists, expecting him to break your jaw. But all that really happened was a sharp flinch that went through you, when you heard his fist bump into the wall only a few inches away from your head. You felt the air heat up with his proximity and for a long moment, you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When you eventually did, you immediately looked up at his face, but he wasn’t looking at you. He kept his gaze downcast, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. He was taking quick breaths, his chest rising and falling in record speed. You didn’t dare open your mouth in case this was just the calm before the storm. But it didn’t seem to be. Instead, he seemed almost pained under the weight of his loss of control.

You tilted your head only enough to see his fist, still shaking against the wall. There was a faint crack in the plaster and you saw the hint of harsh red of his blood mixing with the soft apricot color of the wall.

It would have probably been the clever thing to let go. Lock yourself away until he calmed down. He’d apologize, probably and even if he didn’t – he hadn’t hurt you.

But instead of leaving him, you reached out a hand, still struggling to breathe yourself. Your fingers closed around his wrist and he yanked his hand back, attempting to pull away, but you only tightened your grip.

“Let me take a look!”

His arm was tense as was the rest of him and you were almost afraid to look at his face, but when you did, he was still avoiding your gaze. So, instead you focused back on his hand and the traces of blood, the broken skin, mixing with paint.

You swallowed and looked up at him again. “I’m going to clean this up, okay?”

He still didn’t answer. It was like tending to a wild animal, a bull even. His eyes were wide and unfocused, looking for a spot to fix upon. Just not you.

But when you guided him to sit on the couch, he didn’t resist. When you attempted to get up and get a clean cloth, his hand shot out again, fingers wrapping around your wrist like a vice. You winced, but quickly caught yourself again. You wrapped a gentle hand around his arm and whispered: “I’ll be right back.”

He swallowed and hesitated for another second, before he finally let go. You nearly broke both legs stumbling over a pair of shoes and a bag on your way to the bathroom. You gathered what you thought you needed, a wet cloth, some disinfectant and luckily you even found a clean bandage in the drawer. While you carried everything back to the living room, you caught yourself thinking, how is it even possible that I never needed this until now?

You crouched down beside him, taking a look at his hand. He was still far away with his eyes, but he seemed softer now. Less like a wounded lion and more like a man who drowned in guilt.

“I didn’t mean to-“ He cut himself off and clenched his jaw again.

It was hard for him. You could see that every time he held himself back for your sake. You didn’t know if it was because you were pregnant now or because he was slowly starting to understand that you indeed loved him and that you truly didn’t intend to leave him.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy on him. He was still two people at once, fighting internally, battling each other over minor things. Sometimes, he won. Other times, he punched the wall hard enough to crack.

But that was okay, you told yourself. He was trying. You could see that he was, despite his struggle. He would hurt you again, you were sure. You took a slow breath, silently praying to God for him never to lose control too bad. He would hurt you again. But fuck if you’d let him hurt your child.

“I know.” You murmured softly as you gently began to dab at his wounded knuckles. “Nothing happened. It’s alright.”

“It’s not.” He gritted out. “I could have-“ He closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

You waited patiently until he opened his eyes again and until he was finally ready to face you. This wasn’t like him, you suddenly realized. His dark side, his evil twin, it was unlike him to show signs of guilt. But to you he did. For you he did.

His eyes were still dark, but now there was something else as well. Something you had rarely ever seen in him. It was more than guilt, it was different than anger, it was…fear.

“I could have hurt you.”

You paused for a beat, before you could respond. “But you didn’t.”

“You don’t understand.” He lowered his head so he was eye level with you and you were forced to look into his eyes, to see the depth of what lay beyond them.

“I wanted to.”

There was a tight knot in your chest. What were you supposed to say to that? There was not much you could do. You knew what he was. He was trying. But was that enough?

“But you didn’t.” You eventually said again. Your voice was unwavering, more certain than the rest of you.

He frowned and pulled his head back, glancing down at his fist, still clenched in your hand.

“I don’t deserve this.” He murmured.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, still staring down at your hands. “I don’t deserve you. What have I ever given you aside from pain?”

You felt as though he had punched you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to show the horror you felt inside. “You…”

“It’s true. You are good and kind and forgiving. You care about me in ways…” He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze entirely. “I don’t deserve this.”

Before you had time to think it through, you already reached out and grasped his chin between two fingers. You tilted his head, forcing him to look at you. With a stern expression, it was now you who shook your head.

“You love me.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “What does that have to do with anything?”

You smiled, with more conviction than you thought yourself capable of. “Everything.”

He didn’t comment on it any further and neither did you. You simply took care of his wounds and he let you. It was foreign to him – you could tell by the way he watched you in a mixture of confusion and wonder. A part of him was still tense, as though he expected you to strike. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, but he was getting better at it.

That was the moment you decided you wouldn’t ask him again.

No matter how confused and desperate you felt, how angry it made you that he knew everything about you and you seemed to know nothing about him.

You didn’t know his name, nor what he did or where he came from – but you knew that he loved you. That he’d kill for you. And that you were his, as much as he was yours.

And so you decided to trust him with everything else as well.

Because he was trying.

Six weeks came and went. Time passed so quickly and life felt so easy, that you tended to forget about the bad things. The times when he ignored you, when he withdrew his love in order to punish you for things you might have done wrong in his eyes, were all but forgotten.

The days were short. You spent every possible moment together. Aside from when he went to work or to…well, to work on the man your mother had sent, you were together. Always.

Sometimes you were almost afraid that your constant presence would end up suffocating him.

Despite the way you got more and more confident in yourself, the dark thoughts lingered. Whenever he was gone for a few minutes too long, whenever you got into an argument, you couldn’t help but think yourself unlovable. One day he would wake up and he would realize the terrible mistake he had made.

But he had ways. Many different ways to ensure your thoughts were only that – thoughts.

Every time you thought you were being too clingy and decided to pull away, put at least a little distance between you – scoot over on the couch, roll over, pull yourself away from him – he caught you. Whether it was being a hand on your thigh, an arm around your shoulders or just his knee pressed a little tighter against yours. He was just as clingy, you realized. Of course you didn’t speak of it. But you saw it in the way he closed his eyes, when your fingers ran through his hair. The way he smirked to himself when he caught you staring at him when he came out of the shower – if he ever allowed you to take a shower alone. He needed your contact just as much as you did his and it only ever made you love him more.

What was it about the couples who needed space? What did that even mean?

Sure, you sometimes asked yourself if it would do your relationship any good if you spent some time apart. But no, God, no. The thought alone made your skin crawl in fear. Falling asleep without him by your side sounded like the most ridiculous and impossible thing. You needed him there, his warmth, his arms around you and his warm breath on your neck.

It wasn’t just you and him cramped up in the space of the apartment all the time. Things became…lighter.

Going outside became a trivial thing to you. It wasn’t only the regular appointments at the doctor’s office. You went out to eat, to take walks and he showed you Seoul. Of course you’d seen a few places there – guided by only your phone, because you were a ghost in your own life. But what he showed you weren’t only tourist spots. No, he showed you things you would have never even thought about on your own. Things only someone who had grown up there could show you.

Even his old house.

It was burnt down to the ground of course, no more than dead grass, some dirt and rusty metal. But the way he stared down at it, the place that had once been so much bigger than him, the place where all his nightmares found their origin…

It made you hold his hand just a little tighter.

He didn’t say a single word and he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. His pain ran much deeper than you had ever assumed. Maybe even deeper than your own.

But pain is not something to be measured and compared, right?

You squeezed his hand – and he squeezed yours right back.

You never spoke of it. Not a single time. And you held onto your word, your thoughts, you had had just a few weeks ago. You didn’t pressure him and it seemed to pay off, because the tension in him that was always there seemed to ease just the tiniest bit.

You went to the movies – thank God there were days when they played in their original language – and to the theater. He showed you bridges, buildings, food, music, art.

All the things you had missed out on your entire life.

And while he was at it, he showed you love.

You felt it in the way his hand tightened on the small of your back, whenever you got into a group of people. The way he looked at you, that sheepish smile, whenever you caught him staring at you while you were doing something – be it the dishes or stargazing.

He showed you himself. All you needed to know was right there in the way he kissed you.

And he kissed you.

Of course there were moments when a quick peck had to be enough, but the nights? The nights.

There was not enough air to breathe and you didn’t care one bit.

All you needed was him. He made sure of it.

You couldn’t count the times he made you inhale sharply and claw at the sheets.

Every night, so far. Once your nausea and your sickening exhaustion had passed, you became a wild thing. It was hard to tame you, the second you felt his fingers run up your thigh, down your hip, up your back. You were sure you could have recognized his hands blindly in-between a thousand others.

When he rubbed the pads of his fingers over your tongue, down your stomach or when they slipped inside your panties. They were so skilled that it never took him long to have writhing and begging. It was so easy that it almost got boring.

And so, sometimes, he had his ways of making you suffer, just to spice it up.

The night before, he had done just that. Your jaw still hurt thinking back to it – and your panties grew wet just the same.

He had been sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper as he so often did. Sometimes you asked yourself if he really read it or if that was just some kind of front to keep up the illusion of composure. You had just come out of the shower and were on your way to maybe try and write something, when you saw him sitting there, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. The way he leaned back, one arm resting on the couch, the other one holding up the paper.

It didn’t need any words. Just one look.

He leaned back in that infuriatingly hot way, legs spread apart and lowering the paper just enough to look at you.

You had never seen such expressive eyes before. And the command was clear.

You let go of any idea of writing, the moment you approached him instead. You slid onto your knees almost automatically, but not before he shoved a pillow before you, for you to kneel on. You shifted slightly, spreading your legs apart involuntarily, but he shot you a warning look.

“I want to see your hands at all times.” He said lowly, before he glanced back down at the newspaper. “And now keep me warm.”

You nearly choked on your spit, your own arousal making your mind go hazy. But you obeyed. You always obeyed – until you didn’t. But that night, you did.

You freed him from his sweatpants, his hardness already apparent and ready for you to take care of. The need to run your tongue along his length and drive him to the brink of madness was almost suffocating, but the way he tightened his grip on the paper just slightly kept you from doing so. Instead you spat down on it just once and took him in your mouth. And then you stayed in place.

You felt the way he tensed, heard the way his breath hitched, but he didn’t do anything either.

“Good girl.” He murmured and ran his fingers through your hair with his free hand, keeping them there. You tried to swallow around him, but it only made you drool all over him. A small whimper died in the back of your throat as you forced your knees to press into the pillow firmly, not daring to move or touch yourself, when that was all you wanted to do. You were already so wet, just from kneeling like that, just from tasting him.

A soft sigh came over your lips and your tongue involuntarily moved, causing him to inhale through gritted teeth. You expected a scolding, but he just pushed your head down further onto him. You moaned and chocked back a gag.

“My good girl.” He murmured, as he kept playing with your hair. “Be a good girl for daddy, so he can finish reading this, okay?”

You didn’t respond and how would you have accomplished that? You just stayed in place, keeping your head still. Your fingers twitched to reach between your legs and do something against the burning ache there, but you didn’t. It would only cause him to torment you further, to withdraw your release or keep you on edge.

Minutes passed and the only sound was his ragged breathing and your own.

His grip on the newspaper was painfully tight – normally he had a better grip on his composure. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in two days. Maybe it was because he felt your legs shaking.

The evidence of your own arousal was slowly dripping down your thighs and you let your eyelids flutter shut. You choked back any sounds you wanted to make, your hands gripping the edge of the sofa tightly.

“Fuck this shit. Fine.” He sighed out, before he slammed the paper onto the couch. “Come, darling, make daddy feel good.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You always loved to pleasure him with your mouth, for many different reasons. The sounds he made, his grip on you…almost like his life depended on it. It was exhausting of course, but it was worth it. You almost came, just kneeling there, being at his mercy – and somehow, it was you in control nonetheless. Of course he’d guide your movements every now and then, force a gag over your lips, but other times, when he was in a softer mood, he’d just…

Admire you.

His mouth slightly agape, his brows furrowed, he stared down at you like a man starving and you were the water he desperately needed. His grip on the back of your head was firm, but not painful, just enough to allow him to massage his fingertips into your scalp.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. Just like…ah, fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut and you used the opportunity to bring your hand between your legs, dying for any kind of friction. But he caught the movement and quickly caught your wrist.

“No, baby, no. I’m going to make you feel better than you ever have before, but you’re going to listen to me. Understand?”

You forced yourself to nod, though you almost felt tears of desperation sting your eyes. You hadn’t felt this needy in…

Probably not that long ago. He kept doing this to you. And as much as you hated it, as much did you love it, because in the end…

He always made up for it.

Before you had the chance to thrive on your determination to make him cum, he pulled your head back, causing you to whimper.

“Good girl.” He gritted out, his grip on your face bruising. “Such a good girl.”

He pulled you up onto the couch and pushed you back into the cushions.

“Are we above begging, huh?”

You shook your head in a way that could only be described as hysterical. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, daddy.” You breathed out, your face flushed red.

He smirked in that devilish way, looming above you and making a face as if considering.

You whimpered again and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin. “Beg a little more, sweet girl.”

You licked your lips and bit down on them as you pressed yourself back into the couch, involuntarily arching into his touch. “Please. Please, I’m begging you, I…I’m so…Please…”

He hummed approvingly. “That’s a good girl, if I’ve ever seen one.”

His head dipped forward and his lips brushed over the side of your neck. He kissed a path from your neck to your earlobe, where he gently bit down on it. “Do you want me that bad, hm?”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you nodded, sliding your hands over his bare back.

“I want to have a taste first.” He breathed in your ear, causing your body to tremble and your toes to curl. Your throat felt too dry to form a response, but that wasn’t necessary. He leaned down and parted your lips with his tongue, delving in for a kiss that was as messy as it was desperate.

You moaned and arched your hips up against his, feeling his slick hardness against your soaked panties.

He hissed in response and bit down on your lip. “God, you’re killing me.”

In no time, he kissed his way down your body. The way his hands smoothed your clothing out of the way made you shiver. You were a puddle in his hands, unable to move or breathe, all you could do was gasp and whimper.

He ran his fingertip over your slit, which caused you to inhale sharply.

“My God.” He murmured. “I don’t think I’ve ever had you this wet before.”

You whimpered in response, biting down on your tongue to keep any more pathetic sounds back.

He smirked and hooked his fingers under the material, pulling them off of you torturously slow.

“Fuck.” He all but growled, when he came back up. You felt his hot breath against your core and it was enough to make you cry.

“Please-“

“Patience.” He spoke calmly. How could he be so feral and suddenly so composed, all within a minute? Maybe he had more than just two personalities.

He ran his hands up from your ankles to your knees, before he swiftly hooked them around his shoulders.

“I want to hear you, okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. You were sure you had a fever by now.

And then he finally touched you.

The sound you made when his flat tongue ran over your slick folds was hardly even human, but you didn’t hold anything back. You just leaned back – and relaxed.

If one could call it that.

His gentle ministrations quickly turned into something else entirely, because soon he ran the tip of his tongue in circles around your sweet spot, before he attacked it with his pursed lips.

Your hand found his hair almost involuntarily. It had to hurt, the way you tugged at it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You guided his movements, practically using him to pleasure yourself.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God-“

He hummed and the vibrations it sent through your core alone were enough to make you arch your back.

“Oh, fuck!”

It didn’t take you a full minute to end up writhing and crying out, your body nearly floating from the sofa.

But he didn’t stop there.

It was almost painful, the way he kept working his mouth, kept lapping and licking, kissing as he would your mouth.

“Oh, oh, oh God…”

And soon, you felt yourself tip over the edge again, this time even more intensely than the first time.

“Please…can’t take…more…”

Your legs were shaking and so was the rest of you. You felt hot and cold at the same time and you kept feeling as feverish, until he finally decided to be merciful and pull away.

He slowly crawled back until he was hovering over you again, his lips curved into a devilish smirk.

“Oh, that was delicious.”

“I hate you.” You whispered breathlessly.

That made him laugh and he leaned down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it made you moan.

“Too bad.” He murmured against your lips. “Because I love you.”

You sighed deeply and bit down on his lower lip. “I love you, too, you demon.”

His smirk widened into something more genuine. “And what does that make you, hm?”

You couldn’t help but smirk in response. “Oh, shut up.”

He gently cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at you for a moment, before he let his hand wander and gently pressed it against your stomach instead. The intensity of his feeling and the softness in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat.

“I love you both.” He whispered.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide in surprise and admiration.

“We love you, too.” You whispered back.

He smiled and didn’t say anything more. You bit your lip and gently pressed a hand against his chest. “And what about you?”

He cocked a brow. “What about me?”

You smirked and teasingly ran your thumb along the tip of his hardness. His eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled sharply. “Ah.”

“Mhm.” You tilted your head up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss. “You know what I want?”

He shook his head, pulling his head back to meet your gaze.

Your eyes darkened in a way you had only ever seen in him. It was him. He had that effect on you. He made this of you. This mess. This wicked, wanton, needy mess.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Now his own eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw. “Is that so, hm?”

You licked your lips and nodded. “I want you to fuck me, daddy.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, your words sending a shiver down his spine. When he opened them again, he looked feral again.

He immediately pushed your legs apart and pressed himself against your entrance. You, still wet like crazy and him glistening with precum, you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. You observed the way his brows furrowed and his breath stuttered as he slowly pushed himself inside you.

It didn’t matter how many times he did it. It was always enough to make your eyes roll back.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth and wrapped his fingers around your throat, but not squeezing. Only holding you, only showing you who was in control.

“Open that pretty mouth for me.”

You didn’t hesitate. And he didn’t hesitate to spit down in it.

When you closed your mouth and swallowed, you could swear, you felt him throb inside you.

He leaned in so his lips grazed your earlobe and whispered: “You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl. My beautiful, dirty girl.”

Your eyelids fluttered and you forced yourself to look up at him. He began to roll his hips against yours and you pressed yourself up against him, following his rhythm. You never thought it was possible to cum in this position, not as a woman, but he showed you that it was indeed possible.

His thumb found your sweet spot again, still heated and sensitive from his earlier attack, but that didn’t stop him.

“My good girl.”

“Ah, fuck…You’re my…My man.”

His eyes narrowed and his movements stuttered just slightly, before he caught himself and his movements only ever became more frantic. His mouth fell open and he drew in a sharp breath.

“Say that again.”

“My…” You licked your lips, your brows furrowed. “My man.”

He licked his lips as well and stared you down in a way that was deeper than any doting look he had ever given you.

“If I asked you to marry me, would you?”

You froze in your tracks and your eyes widened almost comically. “What?”

He nodded. “Would you?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and the way your chest tightened.

Marriage.

It wasn’t entirely ridiculous, right? After all, you were pregnant with his child. But you had never thought that far, never even dared to think of such a thing.

“What a dumb question.” You breathed out.

“Then answer it.” He whispered just as breathlessly.

Yes. Yes. For God’s sake, yes!

But you didn’t say that. Instead, your body reacted before your mind could, your lips curving into a dangerous, teasing smile. “You’ll have to be a man and risk asking me for real.”

He smirked, his eyes filling with a warmth that you didn’t expect. “You’re so goddamn sexy when you’re being a tease for me.”

He then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “I will burn this fucking world for you. Just say the word.”

You bit your lip and slowly shook your head. Your chest still felt warm under the weight of his words.

“Just love me.”

And that he did. To bliss and back.

The next evening you found yourself lying in bed, thinking about your life. So many bad things and so much pain had led you to that point. If you could go back to change it, would you?

No.

Not if it meant the outcome would be different.

You lay on his mattress, wearing no more than a dark red negligee, a pair of panties and a wistful smile. He was everything you ever wanted, everything you ever wished for in a man.

The things he made you feel, both emotionally and physically…You never even thought that possible.

You always thought you were unlovable.

You always thought no one would ever love you.

But there you were. His.

Only his.

You took a slow breath and closed your eyes, remembering the night before. Involuntarily, you felt your hand wander down your body, to the gentle curve of your belly. It was so tiny, barely even noticeable, but you did notice. You saw it, when you wore a tight dress and you felt it, whenever you thought about it. A baby.

Your baby.

His.

This wasn’t exactly what you had expected to come out of your life. This wasn’t what you anticipated either. To be honest, you had never even thought you would make it that far. You had never been able to picture yourself that way. Married, pregnant…All these things sounded foreign to you. And yet, there you were.

Lying on the bed of the man you loved, his child inside your belly.

When you heard the door click open, your smile only grew.

No matter how much time you spent with him, you always missed him like crazy.

You considered getting up and approaching him at the door just to show him how much you had missed him. But then again, you were already settled under the blanket, warm and cozy…and the way you knew him, he’d be there within two minutes anyway.

But something felt off.

You heard the door creak open and you heard his steps. Slow and measured, hesitant even. Maybe he assumed you were asleep and so he tried to be careful about it.

But you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was amiss.

And that was when you realized it.

He hadn’t washed his hands.

You wanted to believe that you were being paranoid, but a little voice inside your head told you that something wasn’t the way it should be.

There would be only one reason for him not to wash his hands after he came in: any kind of emergency. But if there was an emergency, if he was worried for you, wouldn’t he be running? Wouldn’t his steps be quick and relentless?

But there he was, sneaking in like a ballerina.

You sat up stiffly, careful not to make any sounds. Whatever the feeling you had was, it got worse with every minute.

Fuck.

As much as you didn’t want to think too much into it – you had to. Better safe than sorry, right?

The last time your brain went into rotting mode, you ended up being kidnapped. No matter if you wanted to call it that or not – it was a fact.

Before you knew it, you had already opened the closet, careful not to make any sounds. You crouched down and pressed your back against the back of the wardrobe, slowly pulling the door shut.

If it was him simply being careful and having forgotten, for whatever reason, to wash his hands, he’d probably panic if he came in and didn’t immediately find you. But you’d deal with that by the time it came to it. You stared through the tiny crack between the doors, holding your breath as you listened in.

The steps came closer, but they were too careful. Too slow.

And the realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t him.

You choked back the horror you felt and only ever leaned back against the wall. Your body felt hot and cold, your palms sweaty. Your breath was stuttering and stilling in your lungs.

Fuck.

Who on earth could that be? The police? He had killed that janitor, after all.

No, it wasn’t the police. It was only one person, you could tell. That was far worse.

You wanted to close your eyes and attempt to calm yourself, but there was no way. Your eyes stayed wide open, your breath caught in your throat. You tried not to breathe at all, to not make a single sound.

And then the door opened.

You pressed a hand against your mouth as your eyes followed the light that suddenly flooded the room before you. You saw the shoes before you saw anything else. It was still too dark and your view wasn’t exactly clear.

You held your breath.

“I know that you’re here.”

The familiarity of the voice nearly made you gasp or scream out in horror. The accent. You heard the fucking accent, because you spoke in the same way. His accent matched yours.

“You can’t hide forever, girl. Come out and maybe I’ll let you live.”

You pressed your hand tighter against your face, sucking in a sharp breath while you were at it.

Oh God. God. No. No, no, no, no, no.

But you didn’t even have the time to say a prayer in your head.

The wardrobe door was yanked open and you were immediately sure.

Your life was over.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, but all you were met with was something that was…hardly even human.

The sight of the man who had once stopped you and questioned you, who had once appeared in front of the door and who ended up on the floor in blood and shackles…

Well, that man was gone.

All that was there now was skin and bones, pale skin and probably broken bones. He bared his teeth in a crooked grin and you saw how he was missing a few of them. His bloodshot eyes were filled with darkness and terror, his lip bruised and bloody, his collarbones nearly jumping at you from the way he was so skinny.

You stumbled back against the wall, but he didn’t give you time to react.

His bony fingers wrapped around your arms and he yanked you to your feet. A part of you was almost confused at how he even managed to get anything done. Judging by the way he looked, he was barely even alive. Just a skull with hollow eyes and blood smeared all over him.

“Is he home, hm?”

You hadn’t even noticed the knife. You only ever realized his grip on it, after he pressed it against your jugular.

You gasped out loud and held your breath, your eyes wide and terrified. You wanted to speak. Wanted to scream. Wanted to fight, to run.

But then you felt it.

Slowly, at first. And then full-force.

You froze.

Your body, your mind. Yourself.

You froze. The same you always did whenever someone touched you.

The feeling was nearly foreign to you by now, because it hadn’t happened in so long. A part of you had almost assumed it wouldn’t ever happen again, because maybe, maybe he had managed to heal you. Maybe you were normal now. Maybe a touch couldn’t cause this reaction in you any longer.

Oh, how entirely mistaken you were.

“Look at that.” He smiled that unhealthy smile, a hoarse laugh rumbling in his chest. “Look at that. Aren’t you a convenient little slut?”

It wasn’t even necessary to restrain you. When he pushed you against the bed, you let him. You fell against the mattress, your limbs stiff and still. The only thing reminding you that you were still alive was your pulse. You were sure you heard it pumping in your ears, somewhere near your brain. But it felt as though you were seconds away from having a stroke.

“Please.” Your voice was hardly even audible, your lips barely moving. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he paused, his expression almost contemplative. But then he pursed his lips and stretched out his arms, the notion almost lazy. “Good.” He purred. “Then it will hurt him all the more.”

He straddled you in a swift movement, ramming the knife into the mattress only a few inches from your head. You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut.

This was it.

Everything that had led you to this moment – Would you still take it? If this was how your life ended?

All the pain. All the misery. Only for your mother to get her last wish.

He leaned down and his breath hit your face, smelling of iron and blood. “You know…” He stretched out a finger and ran the tip of it down your cheek, then your neck. You whimpered and only ever squeezed your eyes shut tighter. That made him smirk. You heard his amusement clearly. “I was actually supposed to find you and bring you back. Rescue you, if you will.” He scoffed and shook his head, before he dug his fingers into your cheeks and forced a sharp gasp over your lips. “Isn’t that so fucking ironic? Rescue you. While you were here, getting fucked by this little piece of shit. Did you enjoy it? Huh? Did you enjoy spreading your legs for this bastard?”

You wanted to keep your eyes closed, to somehow escape this nightmare. But he didn’t let you. His hand cracked against your cheek with enough force to make you cry out aloud.

He had never hit you so hard.

Not even his goddamn punches had hurt that much.

You sobbed and tried to swallow back the saliva that threatened to make you choke. A hot feeling flared up in your chest – humiliation, anger, but mostly fear.

He would hurt you. He would genuinely hurt you.

“Please, I didn’t want any of this!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He slapped you again, this time even harder. Hard enough to make you go dizzy. “Will you keep that fucking, slutty mouth of yours shut or do I need to use other methods to make sure you obey?”

A soft rustling sound and then you felt it. The cold metal of the blade, pressed against the side of your neck. Your eyes shot open and you choked back a sob, trying to gasp for air, but there was none.

Were you already dead?

You shook your head, almost imperceptibly.

He nodded. “Good. But just to make sure…”

He tilted back the blade, running the tip of it over your neck. Your eyelids fluttered and all you saw was white, white, white light.

This was how dying felt.

Not being forced by your mother to sleep in a wardrobe, not having to drink water from a bowl on the floor, not event thinking you’d get raped at the metro station.

This was it.

The hardness in his eyes. The coldness. The numbness. The death.

There was nothing left of him. And soon, there wouldn’t be anything left of you either.

“P-p-please.”

But he only smirked. He only smirked and guided the tip of the blade lower and lower, until you felt it pressed against your abdomen.

You stiffened painfully much, digging your nails into your palms.

Your baby.

Your man.

Was he dead?

Oh God, had he killed him?

There was no safety in sight. No help. Nothing.

You were going to die tonight.

Never had you ever been particularly fond of life. And now that you finally were, now you were going to die.

But that didn’t hurt half as much, as did the blade against your stomach. The threat.

“I could cut that thing out of you and feed it to him.”

He wasn’t dead.

And still, his words made you shudder.

You had never even realized when you had started to cry. You simply suddenly realized your face was wet, your lashes sticky and your vision blurred.

“I’ll do whatever you want. But please-“ You sobbed out, but you stopped, when he pressed the blade harder against you.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He spat.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and nodded frantically.

“Good.” He murmured. “Maybe you’re not entirely useless. What do we have here?”

He used the tip of the blade to cut the strap of your negligee, causing you to gasp.

“Look at that. How pretty. Like a pretty little slut.” His eyes darkened and his lip quivered in barely suppressed rage.

He leaned down and you felt his tongue run a path from your cheek to your ear. It made you shudder and tense, squeezing your eyes shut, but you forced yourself to stay still and not say a single thing. You just sobbed.

“You know what I’m going to do with you?” He smirked and ran a disgusting path with his tongue inside the shell of your ear. “I’m going to fuck your pretty little pussy. I’m going to fuck it again and again and again, until there’s nothing left of you. And only then will I cut you open.”

You were shaking and sobbing so hard that you felt nausea rise within you. Not only his words, but the intensity of your sobs was enough to make you want to puke.

“Or maybe…” He pressed the blade against your cheek and you held your breath. “Maybe I could cut your eyelids off first, hm? So I can be sure that you keep your eyes on me at all times. What do you think?”

The cold metal of the knife dragged over your face, until you felt it pressed right underneath your eye.

“Please.” Your words were slurred and choked out between sobs and gasps for air. “Please, I’m begging you. Please, I’m pregnant. He f-f…He forced me. He forced me. Please, he forced me, he dragged me here by force, He…he…made me…”

“Shh.” It was almost soothing, the way he shushed you. But the way the blade pressed into your cheek was anything but. The pain came slow, but it stung more than his slap ever could have.

“That’s why you’ve been waiting here, wearing this, hm? Because he forced you?”

You felt blood trickling down your cheek. It didn’t hurt half as much as his words did, though.

“Ah…”

“Mhm, mhm. Do you still want to defy me?"

You shook your head, trying to breathe in hysterically. But there was simply not enough air.

The cut went from your eye down to the corner of your mouth.

There went your vision from a pretty wedding dress, a sweet, young mother picking up her child from daycare. No, you were the Joker. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wouldn’t make it to that part of your life.

If only he hadn’t stopped cutting you. Because the second he did, you felt the next blow, dark and low. His fingers traced a path down your chest, over your stomach and before you could protest, he pressed his thumb against your center. You squeezed your eyes shut and your lip quivered, a silent plea on your lips.

Not this, not him. Not someone who wasn’t your man. But he couldn’t have cared less, right?

The blade followed the path his fingers had drawn and soon enough you heard the material of your panties being cut open.

Your chest heaved rapidly, your nails biting bloody marks into your palms.

Maybe it would be over sooner than later.

Maybe he would violate you and then leave you to it. Maybe, he’d let you live at least.

Still, you couldn’t choke back the sob that threatened to drown you, when you felt the knife wander down further. The cold metal pressed against your core, sideways, and you forced yourself to stay still. You were sure, one wrong movement and you’d end up maimed for life.

For the little life you had left.

He kept the knife pressed against the bundle of nerves underneath him, while you felt two of his disgusting fingers press against your entrance.

“There, there. I thought that’s what little sluts like you want.”

He pressed forward and you cried out in horror and pain.

“Please, stop!”

You didn’t mean to speak, you knew what always happened whenever you opened your mouth, but your body reacted before the rest of you could.

He stopped for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re such a dumb fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what he did to you! I didn’t ask him to, I didn’t want him to!” The words spilled from your mouth like wildfire. “What I said is true, he did force me here! But I fell in love with him and then you talked to me that day, and then you followed us home and I just- He just- He saw your gun and then he- And then he-“

“Shut up!” His free hand shot out and squeezed your face so tightly, it made you gasp. “Shut the hell up, will you? I’m not doing this, because you fell in love with him. Fuck! Do you think I care about his shit?!” He gritted his teeth and leaned down enough to be right in your face. “You wanna know what your motherfucking boyfriend did? Hm? You wanna know?” His lip quivered again and his eyes were hard enough to cut you open.

“He had my brother killed.”

That made you freeze. More than you already were.

His words sent a sharp pang through your chest and you opened and closed your mouth several times.

“What?”

“Ah, so he didn’t tell you. How fortunate.” He scoffed and exhaled through gritted teeth. “He kept asking me where your bitch of a mother is. And I told him, that I don’t know. Which I don’t. I haven’t seen her in months, right? And he kept asking me. Fuck. I told him that I don’t know. I told him! And what did he do? What did he do the next fucking day?!” The hand he used to hold your face was shaking and so was the rest of him. The crazed look in his eyes intensified to a degree where you were genuinely frightened – genuinely believed you would be dead soon.

“The next day, he showed me a picture on my own phone.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “My twin brother.” He briefly closed his eyes, before they shot open again.

“Someone had…Someone had shot him. Right in the face.” He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek, scrunching up his nose. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he did it himself. But no, he was here, busy fucking you. Getting you pregnant. Fuck!”

He slammed the blade back into the mattress, pressing his fingers back against you, forcing your legs apart.

“I’ll fuck you ‘til you die.” He spat out.

“I didn’t know!” You sobbed out. “Please! I had no idea! Had I known-“

It was a soft sound, a gentle thud, somewhere in the apartment. And what started as a soft breath, quickly turned into running steps.

An emergency. An emergency indeed.

He had heard it, too. And the second he turned his head to look at the open door, you finally broke free from your haze.

He wanted to kill you. Your baby.

Your elbow shot out, hitting the side of his face hard enough for an ugly cracking sound to be heard. He gasped loudly and pulled back, just enough so that you could somehow scramble back from underneath him. He doubled over and pressed a hand against his temple.

The door flew open and there he was.

Oh God.

The fraction of a second. A single second.

His eyes were wide in horror, in disbelief, in surprise.

And then that was all gone. And all that was left was pure, unbridled, murderous fury.

He stormed forward and yanked the intruder off of you, leaving you finally able to breathe again.

You somehow stumbled over, getting on your knees, unable to tear your eyes off the scene.

He slammed him into the wall and began to throw punches left and right, but not in the way one might see in a movie. Not even in an underground fight. Maybe he didn’t even want to kill him. No, he wanted to cause as much damage as possible and watch him suffer.

He was shaking. Shaking in fury, shaking in rage. His fingers itching to murder. And his eyes were black.

“I found your little sister, Elliot.” He spat through gritted teeth.

The man, whose name seemed to be Elliot, slumped down against the wall, but his head perked up, his eyes immediately shooting open in alarm, despite the way his face was slowly swelling beyond recognition.

“What?” He coughed up blood. “No. I don’t have-“

“She lives in France. Clever move, Elliot, really. Thought I wouldn’t find your little French whore of a sister.”

He spun around and dragged the knife from the mattress, making you flinch. He crouched down beside him and tightened his grip on the knife.

“I wish you would live long enough to see what I have planned for her. You see, I’m a loyal man, so I won’t fuck her myself. But fuck, I’ll gather enough men to break that dumb little cocktail waitress. They’ll split her in two.”

Elliot’s eyes widened impossibly, shaking his head frantically. “No…no…no, please, she’s only twenty-six…Fuck, no, please, please, please, I’m sorry, I…”

Suddenly – his gaze met yours.

You flinched and stumbled back against the wall, inhaling sharply.

“Please, you can’t let him do that! Please!”

All you could do was stare at him.

But then his voice cut through the silence. “Get out.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, to the way his eyes were blazing with murderous intent.

“I- I-“

“Get out!”

He didn’t need to say it a third time.

You stumbled to your legs, shaking and nearly falling over, but you caught yourself in the last moment. Your legs somehow carried you outside and you ran and ran, until you reached the bathroom. You collapsed on the floor, gripping the edge of the toilet tightly. You retched and retched, aiming for the toilet and ending up puking all over yourself.

You were still shaking.

Still sobbing.

And with every pained gasp you heard from the bedroom, with every grunt, every plea for help – a little part of you died.

You had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? More? Less?

You lay curled up between the toilet and the wall, your stomach grumbling in unease. You had never felt so disgusting before, covered in blood, sweat, your own puke and the lingering touch of a dead man.

When you heard his footsteps approach, you couldn’t even lift your head.

He knelt down beside you, the movement frantic and concerned. His warm hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him despite your terror, despite your pain.

“No.” You heard him whisper, his fingers brushing softly over the cut on your cheek.

It sounded watery, like he was speaking through a tunnel. Everything was distant.

Was this how death felt?

He gathered you in his arms and your head lolled forward, resting against his chest. He held you like that for a long while, but you barely felt it. You were shaking like a leaf, but the sobs had died.

You had died.

“He- Wanted-“

“Did he hurt you?” He was trying to stay calm, trying for your sake. There was not much he could do to retaliate to a dead man, anyway.

“Is he dead?” You choked out.

“Don’t think about that now. Did he hurt you?”

You begrudgingly shook your head. “Not…enough to…”

You had no idea what you were even trying to say.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.” He said lowly as he attempted to get up. You caught his wrist before he could.

“He didn’t.” You choked out. “I’m not- He didn’t-“

Your gaze followed down his to your exposed body. His eyes were wide and fearful.

“Did he…”

“No! He didn’t…I mean he did try to…He…You came in.” You whispered weakly. “You came in, before he could.”

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, before he pressed you against him, cradling your head against his chest. His heart was racing in his chest and his hand pressed your head into his embrace almost painfully tight.

“This is all my fault.” He whispered hoarsely. “I lost the chip and by the time I realized it, I…This is all my fault.”

Of all the things he had done wrong, you wouldn’t let him take the blame for that.

“No.” You whispered, slowly coming out of your haze. Everything was still blurry, but the shaking began to lessen ever so slightly. “It’s not your fault. It’s his.”

“If I didn’t-“

“We’re not discussing this.” You whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want to overwhelm you any further, you could tell. And you were grateful for that.

“I’m going to take you to the hospital regardless. The stress-“

“Okay.” You whispered. “But please, I…Just let me…Give me…”

He pulled back enough to look at you, his expression pained. “I’ll take care of you. I promise, I will. And I will never leave you alone again. No one will ever touch you again.” He gritted out.

You didn’t protest when he sat you in the tub. He knelt beside it, gently washing everything off you. You just sat there, your chin resting on your knees. The warmth of the water felt good on your skin, it helped against the cruel cold in your bones. But it did little to comfort you. Nothing could ever erase the pain, the fear you felt as you lay there, entirely helpless and frozen.

You barely felt his hands as he gently cleaned you up. You closed your eyes when the warm water ran down your hair and face, but you didn’t flinch.

After a while you felt his hand gently cup your cheek. He made you look at him and you didn’t hesitate to.

“Can you ever forgive me?” He whispered barely audible.

You had never seen him like this. So…desperate.

You were sure, you would never forget the look in his eyes when he reached for the knife. The moment he saw what was going on.

You had been terrified then. And also incredibly relieved.

But you couldn’t help but ask yourself, since that was inside of him…would you always be safe? Would your child always be safe?

But then your expression softened. He looked genuinely terrified. Terrified of the possibility that he had lost your love, your trust. You.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You whispered hoarsely. “I love you.”

He swallowed and averted his gaze, gently tightening his grip on you.

A few minutes later, you were still damp but covered in a big, fluffy bathrobe. He led you to the other bedroom and lay you down gently, pulling the covers up to your chin.

“I’ll get the doctor here instead.” He murmured. “I don’t want you to go anywhere right now.”

You didn’t protest. He sat by your side, squeezing your hand and staring down at it.

His guilt was eating him alive. And that was eating you.

You gently took his hand and pressed the softest kiss against his knuckles.

“I was just afraid. I’ll be okay.” You whispered.

But he didn’t look convinced. The pain in his eyes was so apparent, so real. You had never before seen him like that.

After a while, you slowly looked up at him. “Did you really have his brother killed?”

He stiffened slightly, but he didn’t avoid your gaze. “Yes.” He said quietly.

You were silent for a while. “Why?”

“He said things about you.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Threatened you. I should have killed him back then already.”

Your guts churned and you averted your gaze.

“Your mother is in Korea.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Maybe you were indeed dead. And maybe it was better that way.

“What?” You breathed out.

You felt him nod. “She’s here. She’s in Seoul.”

He bit his lip and you kept your gaze glued to the ceiling.

“I know where she is.”

You closed your eyes and tried to sort out your thoughts. A list of pros and cons. And then you thought back to the baby in your belly. The tiny human, dependent on you. Tiny fingers and toes. Small teeth. A smile, covered in chocolate and ice cream.

Someone to love.

Someone to love unconditionally.

And then you thought back to how you how almost lost it. How your kidneys were giving up. How you had lost one, due to poisoning. You almost lost your baby because of her.

When you looked up at him, your eyes didn’t look like your own.

“I trust you.” Was all that you said.

He didn’t comment on it and he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. He was a clever man.

He didn’t need words to understand you.

You averted your gaze again, staring up at the ceiling and gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. He loved it when you played with his hands.

He loved it when you leaned on him.

He loved it when you loved him.

He-

“Choi Seo-jin.”

You stopped in your tracks and kept your gaze focused on the ceiling. There was no confusion. You knew it. You knew what he was saying. You knew what it meant.

When you slowly tilted your head to meet his gaze, he was already looking at you. His eyes soft. Softer than ever before.

“My name. It’s Choi Seo-jin.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. There was not much you could say.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke in a voice so soft and silky that it left you feeling breathless.

His name. His name.

“Sorry?” You breathed out.

He nodded. “For not telling you earlier. For not trusting you, when I should have. For…for all the things I have done to you. Everything.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Most of it, you had already forgiven him. Probably everything. Most likely everything.

Sure, you had told to the dead man that he kidnapped, that he forced you to be here and carry his child. But what else should you have said? You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want your baby to die. And so you lied.

It wasn’t really a lie, was it? Not a few months ago. But now you knew this was exactly where you belonged.

There was no more curtain, no uncertainty left. No guilt, no unease, no fear.

When you feared him, then you feared him as his partner. Not his victim.

“You don’t have to say that.” You said gently, but he cut you off with a sharp nod.

“Yes, I do.” He exhaled slowly and looked down at your combined hands. “I told you of my father, right? But I didn’t tell you everything.”

You held your breath and simply…let him be.

He smiled, but there was no mirth wheresoever. His eyes were cold, but not directed at you.

At the memory.

“I still hear my mother screaming, you know? Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’m sure I can hear her. When I wake up then and see you lying beside me…It’s the only thing to bring me back.”

He bit his lip and shook his head, still not looking at you.

“He told me that no one would ever be able to love me. That no one could ever love a weak little bastard like me. Called my mother a whore. Said she slept around. He wouldn’t even be sure whose or what I was. Bastard was his go-to name for me.” He sighed and shook his head, gently playing with your fingers. “He said no one could ever love me. And everyone who ever said they did would lie.”

That was when he finally looked up to meet your gaze.

“And I believed him.” He whispered. “I was sure that no one could ever love me. No one would ever trust me. No one would ever look at me and see their lover, their husband. Their protector. They’d see me for what I was. A bastard.” He shook his head again, his voice dropping low. “I thought if I tested you enough, if I hurt you enough, you’d run. I was sure. You were a tough girl. Tough as nails. I did the most vile things to you, but you? You never tried to run. I tried to kill you and what did you do? You told me you loved me.” He clenched his jaw as he spoke. “And I was…I was so fucking confused. Why would you love me? You had to be lying. But no matter what I did, you didn’t run.” His voice turned contemplative, his gentle grip on your hand never wavering.

“He came to my room, you know.” He swallowed against something in his throat and you were sure the sound of your heart breaking was audible.

“Every so often. He…” He closed his eyes. He couldn’t say it. And he didn’t need to. Instead, you gently squeezed his hand, just a little bit tighter than usual.

Your eyes filled with tears, but you bit them back. You wanted so bad to be strong for him, especially now. He slowly opened his eyes and met your gaze, a tiny, weak smile on his lips.

“I couldn’t control it.” He whispered and slowly shook his head. “No matter what I did. I was never in control. Everything just happened. And I could only let it happen.” He clenched his jaw tighter, his grip on your hand was shaking now. “And I told myself I would never, never feel that way again. Never. And I didn’t.”

He sighed deeply. “But I think I got a little ahead of myself. And now…And you…” His gaze raked over your face, over your damp cheeks and he smiled again.

“I gave you control. I know it wasn’t much. It’s not…easy. But I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

He reached out a hand, his palm against your cheek warm and gentle. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

“You never took advantage of it.” He murmured. “I saw it in your face, in your eyes. That one time you slapped me or whenever I let you be in control…It’s almost like it’s hurting you physically.”

His smile widened, just the tiniest bit. “I know it now. I know that my father was nothing but a liar. And you love me.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you nodded. It was all you could do.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because…”

He took a slow breath and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against it.

“Because I intend to marry you and make this whole thing work. I’m going to be your husband and you will be my wife. And this…” He gently pressed his free hand against your stomach. “This is our baby. And no one will ever touch our baby. We’re going to love it. And I will kill anyone who ever tries to touch either of you again.”

His voice was so firm and convincing that you were sure. He meant every word.

You couldn’t even protest. You didn’t want to.

You would be his wife.

And your baby was going to get all the love the both of you had been missing.

And then?

And then he told you everything. Everything from who he was and where he came from. Every quirk, every ick, every pain, every wish, every fear. Everything. Until you were sure.

You were meant to be there.

You were meant to be his.

And had it been him who wrote the text, who uploaded it, who decided to share his thoughts with the world. Had it been him, not you.

You would have done the same.

After an eternity of just talking and letting go of everything that dragged down his soul into the strange abyss that was his misery, he finally looked at you.

“Did I miss anything?” He murmured, before he leaned down to press a kiss against your temple.

You swallowed and nodded. “You didn’t tell me where you work.”

He sighed deeply and leaned back. “You’ll love me regardless?”

You didn’t need to think about it. You simply nodded.

You would.

He nodded as well and leaned down, just enough so you felt his breath against your skin, like the gentle kiss of a sweet spring day after a long, bitter winter. His fingers gently played with your hair, the movement absentminded.

His eyes softened even more and he looked at you with nothing less than pure trust.

“Tell me, darling…Have you ever played the Squid Game before?”

_________________________________________

Tag list 1 :@mitsuki-dreamfree@kpopsmutty69@heroine-chique@vkeyy@mizuwki@blu-brrys@z0mbi345@yourpointbreak@ayieayee@freddyzeppsworld@lola11111111@indifitel6661@salesmanlover08@laurenbenoit70@lalalaa2210@lila-marshal@auspicious-lilana@0-aubrie0@lovelyaegyo@theredvelvetbitch@violentbluess@muriels-lover@dorayakissu@eviebuggg@muchwita@ririgy@strxlemon@obsessedwthdilfs@kiwilov3@misty-q @koigguki

Author's note 2: Sorry for traumatizing you, guys. I hope whatever I wrote made any sense...My brain is a mess, it's 2.30am and I'm going to sleep now. I loveeeee you! 🤍

[crunchystarz]

Twisted wonderland Self-aware au

Housewardens x GN!Reader

Cw- obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation all that good yandere stuff (remember none of this behavior is healthy nor do I condone it this is purely for entertainment )

A/n: I wrote this while dying of the flu I am not built for the cold weather release me from my chains

You downloaded the game for fun. As any normal person usually does. What you weren't prepared for was when your game started acting weird.

It started small, your characters dialogue wouldn't line up with the videos you've seen. No big deal perhaps they just got changed during an update.

It got a bit weirder whenever you'd start seeing new sprites you haven't seen anywhere else. You tried to shrug it off as you just managed to get a newer version of the game(somehow).

You swore the characters started to address you more directly but you again tried to ignore it. You just thought your brain was playing tricks on you.

It was only until you realized you left your phone at your apartment. You quickly rushed home to retrieve it just to find a very real house warden in your home.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

REALIZATION:

When Riddle first suddenly became aware of the fact his existence was nothing but code he was unbelievably out of it. All the conversations he had, his harsh upbringing, everything was just part of his character. Were the feelings of anger, confusion and acceptance even real? He went on a bit of a rampage being harsher than usual but he didn't wish to shatter the reality for everyone else (he'd also sound more like a mad hatter If he tried to explain the fact they were just in a game) So no one knew why for the next month Riddle was more on edge than usual.

He came to accept the fact his life was nothing but a path set for him. He instead started to focus on you(or should I say yuu)

He soon realized that the ramshackle perfect was nothing but a hollow shell. No notable personality or backstory. But he soon managed to be aware of your experience. Glitches allowed him to hear snippets of your voice and how you truly felt. He was your favorite and he wanted it to stay that way.

He'd make sure he was always on your home screen. He'd even get risky and start talking to you directly. He'd listen to you ramble as you played the game. His face would flush red not out of anger but embarrassment when you'd change his outfits or get excited when you realized he'd gotten a new card.

He wished there wasn't a screen keeping you away from each other...

BREAKING CODE:

(I like to think this would be similar to an overblot In a way and enough emotion could cause them to lose themselves and eventually overwrite their code)

Riddle was over the moon. He was really in your room. Sevens he never thought a day would come where he'd be standing in your space. It was so you...

It felt weird, in a space that wasn't just there for scenes. It was actually lived in.

When he sees you he feels as if he succeeded in his life's purpose. You're confused and he can see that. He tries to explain to you how he didn't even know how he had gotten where he was.

You let him stay in your apartment because you couldn't really let him out in a world he knows nothing about. You're too kind he says.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Riddle takes care of most of the household chores. While you're gone, he keeps himself busy by tidying up, reading, or researching ways to improve the home environment. As well as constantly making rules for you to follow. He's so used to rules being set in place, it's what he was programmed to do so In the beginning you let it slide.

However he becomes controlling, trying to regulate every aspect of your life to “protect” you. He insists on setting the rules for "safety" and gets visibly distressed if you don't follow them.

Constantly checks if the you're eating properly or following a “schedule” he created for you both. If you don't he'll sometimes scold you harshly like he would in game. He'll apologize later in fear of upsetting you, he just wants you to be safe.

Becomes passive-aggressive if you end up spending too much time with others, interpreting it as rebellion. All he's trying to do is set you on the right path , can't you see that?

-"It’s for your own good [Name],Without guidance, this world will overwhelm you. Let me take care of you."

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

REALIZATION:

When Leona realizes he's in a video game he's surprisingly the calmest. He's upset and disorientated but he doesn't cause a big scene or let it be known he's losing his mind. He's used to concealing how he feels from others; it's in his codeHe's more laid back after this fact. No matter what he did he'd never be able to change his fate, because it was already set for him he had no control over it. So why did it matter what he did?

When you caught his attention the beast man was obsessed with proving himself to you. To him you were the only person who saw him for him. Who understood him. He was your favorite.

He'd never been anyone's number one anything before and the fact you choose him he wasn't going to let anything take that away from him.

The screen was just another obstacle he'll overcome to get what he wants.

BREAKING CODE:

Leona was really in your room...your room. He felt overcome with joy. Genuine joy, something he'd...never felt. Everything he felt up until then was just what the developers wanted him to feel.

Needs to say you were more than confused when you saw a lion hybrid snuggled up in your bed when you came home.

After getting an explanation you offered to let him stay in your apartment; if you didn't you were more than sure he'd be taken for government testing or something. Too bad you now needed a new phone.

DAY TO DAY LIFE :

Leona is still a lion at heart, he frequently loiters around you, draping himself over your furniture or bed like a lion staking a claim.He’s territorial and quick to anger if someone else tries to get too close to you. Despite his gruffness, he seeks constant reassurance that the you won’t leave him.

He's possessive and hates whenever you leave and doesn’t hide his irritation. He often tries to convince you to skip work/school, suggesting you should spend the day relaxing with him instead. (Sometimes he'll go out with you and will send looks to anyone who looks at you too long)

you're just happy everyone thinks that his animal features are crazy prosthetic since he refuses to hide them

When you come home, Leona monopolizes your time, insisting on napping together and getting all your attention.

He'd dislike the smell of other people on you when you come home and will drag you to bed for cuddles. None of these humans deserve your attention, he worked so hard for it not them .The thought angers him.

- "You're mine, I can protect you—provide for you —love you, you don't need anyone else but me those humans can't do what I can"

AZUL ASHHENGROTTO

REALIZATION:

Azul understandably does not take the life altering realization that he's not actually real well. His usually kept together appearance started to slip. He was all over the place. How could he not? This left Floyd and Jade completely confused why their boss was so out of it. It wasn't like him. He couldn't tell anyone else about this, not that they'd believe him anyway.

His interest in you starts as a mix of fascination and suspicion. He’s drawn to your influence but wary of your intentions. It became an obsession .

He saw you as the only real thing in his "life", Azul was your favorite out of all the characters, you picked him. He'd always make sure he looked right on your home screen (it wouldn't matter anyway since his sprite would always look the same)

You became the only thing he could think about, he'd have you no matter how much it took

BREAKING CODE:

Azul at first didn't think him being in your room was real. He thought it was a dream. When it finally set in that it wasn't just him losing his mind he was more than just happy.

He was in his darlings room. Everything felt so perfect. But not as perfect when he saw you for the first time. You were more than confused to see him(now in your living room) looking around.

After explaining the situation you let him stay with you in your apartment. You had no other choice where else would he go? It wouldn't be so bad to have extra help around anyway.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Much like Riddle , Azul takes care of most of the daily tasks. He offers to assist you with your tasks, whether it’s by organizing your work schedule or helping with assignments. However, he might feel a little hurt if you seem too busy for him. Pay attention to him please!

Don't forget that this is a sly sly man. Azul becomes emotionally manipulative, weaving situations that ensure you stays reliant on him. He uses your gratitude and trust to justify his control, often veiling his obsession with charm and just him being a "gentleman".

He'll shower you in gifts and constantly praise you on everything. He'll try and offer you deals just to make sure you have ties with him.

He'll text you at work with encouraging needy messages. He's always in your corner so just rely on him okay? You don't need anyone else.

- "You’d be lost without me. Everything I do is for you. Just let me take care of all your work."

Kalim Al-Asim

REALIZATION:

Kalim was in denial for the longest time about the realization that he was in a program. He couldn't wrap his head around it. He didn't want to bother Jamil more than he already did especially not with something this big. It was hard to not say anything while his mind was going crazy with thoughts as he tried to pretend nothing was wrong.

When he realized yuu wasn't just another side character and in fact the player he became obsessed with knowing more. He'd get so excited whenever the game would glitch and he could hear your voice and you talking as you played around on the home screen.

It made him so happy; Kalim was your favorite character. Others would wonder why he'd be more bubbly than usual whenever he'd hear you compliment him on his newest card. He wanted all your attention onto him.

He'd make your every wish come true. This screen wouldn't stop that.

BREAKING CODE :

Oh wow he was really in your room. It was way smaller than he expected but that didn't matter. It was your room so it made it much better. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this. He was basically bouncing off the walls; touching everything.

When you walked into your room you didn't have time to react before Kalim was pulling you a crushing hug causing you to yelp. He apologized a bit flustered.

After explaining (he could barely keep himself together) you allowed him to stay. He was so sweet how could you let him out into the world?

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Kalim insists on accompanying you everywhere. Wherever you go Kalim is clinging to you. Your neighbors have all taken a liking to him so him being with you isn't so bad.

He isn't good with chores but he tries his best to clean and tidy when you're gone. He tries to cook but has burnt it multiple times so you tell him not to. He buys you gifts you don't even need all the time. He just wants to spoil you.

Kalim’s obsession is rooted in his desire to make you happy at all costs. However, his constant need to please you and keep you close becomes overwhelming, and suffocating. If you tell him this he'll make you feel bad, that he just loves you so much and wants to take care of you; you often cave.

When you return from work or school, Kalim greets you with hugs and insists on spending the rest of the evening together, often talking about what he did while you were gone.

-" [Name]! I missed you sooo much, you should let me go with you to work, you don't even need work I could make all of your wishes come true"

VIL SCHONHEIT

REALIZATION:

Vil did not take it well... He was absolutely losing his mind. His beauty was nothing but pixels. Was everything he worked for was fake? Everything he knew was just controlled by someone else. It was so frustrating. He ended up locking himself away until he could accept the truth.

When he realized yuu was the player he was...angry. However that anger subsided after he started to know you for you. Vil was...your favorite. It boosted his ego more than anything.

He wanted to be in the spotlight at all times. He craved your attention. It was like he became addicted to your praise. He'd smile whenever you'd call him pretty whenever you looked at a card of his.

He wanted to be perfect for you. He'd show you how perfect he could be, you'd see. He just needed to get rid of the screen.

BREAKING CODE:

Vil stood in the middle of your room. Everything was too perfect to touch. He took it all in. everything felt just...right.

He didn't even calculate how he got in your room but he didn't care. He was in your world and sevens he'd never felt better.

When you walked into him looking at himself in your mirror (taking in how he was an actual real person) . You were so confused why this gorgeous man was in your room.

After explaining the situation you agreed to let him stay with you; if you didn't you swear he'd get kidnapped or something to become a big model. It wouldn't be bad to have a pretty face to look at when you got home.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Vil insists on controlling your wardrobe and grooming, often brushing aside whatever protests you have. He discourages you from associating with “lesser” individuals, claiming they tarnish the your image.

He knows what's best for you come on, those other people will only be dragging you down from your true potential. But of course you wouldn't know that he couldn't blame you.

Vil’s obsession honestly manifests in his relentless efforts to “perfect” for you. He'll critique your choices and actions, believing he alone knows what’s best for you. His fixation often leaves you feeling scrutinized and trapped.

He believes you just need him. He'll do everything just as long as he gets praise from you. Tell him he's being a great help won't you?

"You deserve only the best, and I won’t let anyone drag you down—!"

IDIA SHROUD:

REALIZATION:

This is not as exciting as they make it in manga. Idia was having a crisis. Realizing that he was in a video game made him want to hide away even more than he normally would. It didn't matter how hard Ortho tried he just wouldn't budge. He stayed cooped up in his room trying so hard to distract himself from the fact that he was nothing but code just like the ones he's learned to manipulate. Idia is not going to recover from this.

Idia was already wary around yuu but when he realized you were yuu he wanted to know more. He was still too scared to leave his dorm so you didn't see him much other than the homescreen.

He was so taken back when he realized that, he — Idia shroud was your favorite. He'd never been anyone's favorite before. He was just a loser that stayed cooped up in his room all day and you still liked him?

He grew obsessed with that feeling of being seen, he wanted to just use whatever knowledge he had to break past the screen.

BREAKING CODE:

When Idia realized he was actually in your room he damn near fainted. No scratch that he did. He was so overwhelmed. He didn't deserve to be in your room. Oh man how did he even get here? Nevermind that.

He was so incredibly.. happy. He was in the room of the one person who he felt knew him more than anyone. It made him feel bubbly and his hair flashed pink a bit.

He looked for something to do fearing he'd have a panic attack if he thought about this too long. So you ended up finding him tinkering with your computer when you came home. He basically died when he saw you.

After explaining to you what happened, you, now trying to get him to calm down agreed to let him stay. Not that he'd leave anyway he practically already made your bed his sanctuary.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Your room basically became his. He keeps it clean but doesn't really do a lot of the house work other than that.

Idia spends the day gaming, tinkering with gadgets, or monitoring your online activity (just to make sure you're okay, of course!). He reacts the worst to you being away and just does not like it one bit.

Idia struggles with separation anxiety (like a once stray cat)and might try to convince you to work or study from home. If you insist on going out he bombards you with messages . He'll subtly manipulate situations to keep you away from others, convincing you the world is too dangerous.

When you come home, Idia is overly clingy, insisting you spend the rest of the night together and refusing to let you focus on work. He just wants his cuddles and your attention you were out with those normies all day!

-" Can’t you just stay here and binge-watch something with me? It’s way safer—and more fun."

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

When the fae realizes he's nothing but binary code strug together he's more than perplexed. Malleus has dealt with a lot of things in his time but nothing could prepare him for the crushing reality. He's completely disoriented and Sebek nor Silver can figure out why because he won't tell them. He started lacking on work and just overall seemed more spaced out.

He was very quick to put two and two together. Yuu was the player. It was obvious; human without powers manages to get into NRC and some how is involved with almost everything. It wasn't quite hard to figure out.

Malleus idealizes you seeing you as a perfect being. In his eyes, you are kind, compassionate, and the only one who truly understands him. He was your favorite, this confirms you too think you too are meant for each other.

He'd do anything just for you to join him when he takes up the crown, it's just the screen that's not making it possible.

BREAKING CODE:

Once in your room Malleus doesn't look like he cares at all actually but inside he was losing his mind in the most positive way ever.

Nothing was how he imagined. This is how you like your space? Noted. He tidied up your place a bit and sat in the middle of the room as to not mess anything.

When you walked into him just sitting there you were so confused but he just gave you a smile showing off his fangs.

After explaining the situation you let him stay in your apartment; too scared what he'd manage to get into if you didn't.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Malleus makes sure everything is perfect for you at all times. Everything is organized and you never have to worry about anything being out of place.

Like Leona Malleus has animalistic tendencies, him being a fae dragon causes him to be well.. possessive, not wanting anyone else to monopolize your attention. He might grow jealous of your coworkers, friends, or even family, viewing them as a threat to your bond.

He. Is.clingy. worse than Kalim and Idia. He insists on escorting you everywhere, even if it’s unnecessary. People recognized him as "[Name's] horned bodyguard!" Gods you hated it. He tries to insert himself into every aspect of your life, wanting to be by your side constantly.

It took him so long to just be okay with letting you leave on your own. Once you're home he's bombarding you with questions about your day.(Secretly snuggling up to you so you can have his scent again)

-" I could just use magic you know, there's no need—I'm simply a better option for this stuff you can rely on me"

MASTERLIST

[theyanderespecialist]

Muzan's Experiment (Headcanons) Yandere Muzan Kibutsuji X Pregnant Reader (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! This one has Muzan being Yandere For His Pregnant Darling Who he had impregnanted! I hope you enjoy this chapter!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan Kibutsuji is Not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yandere are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanons from canon! Thank you!)  -Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Muzan Kibutsuji X Pregnant Reader- 

.Muzan did plan when he would try and reproduce. 

.First, he would need a human that he deemed fit to carry his offspring. 

.That so happened to be you, he was attached to you and though he thought as a human you were less than him he did value you above other humans. 

.Also he saw you as his And HIS alone, so of course you were the perfect woman to carry his children. 

.He did not plan on having kids because he wanted them. No, they were more an experiment another way for him to conquer the sun. 

.And maybe to give him an heir to his demon kingdom. 

.He has big plans for his demons and would need someone to continue his plans if something did happen to him. 

.If you had a defective uterus or had your uterus removed before meeting him. 

.Well he would be working hard at fixing your uterus and or regrowing it back. 

.He could easily have just chosen a woman with a fertility uterus and healthy body, but no YOU are the one he wants to carry his children! 

.So it HAS To be you who he impregnates. 

.He does care for you, but it did not matter to him if you wanted children or not. 

.If you would not consent to lovemaking he would most likely get you drunk and or drug you. 

.Not with a date rape drug but more so something like an aphrodisiac where you would beg him to help you take the edge off. 

.In his sick twisted mind that was you consenting and remember this is Muzan he is a bad person. 

.He would do this over and over, even tracking when you are most fertile, and would eventually get you pregnant. 

.Once you are with a child, you can bet you will not leave the infinity castle, except for doctor visits. 

.That is if he did not kidnap Tamayo and force her to be your doctor. 

.He would make sure you got top-notch care and would make sure that you were well taken care of. 

.That your diet is perfect and all your cravings are met. 

.Surprisingly he does not lay a hand on you but he does lock you in your bedroom when you do misbehave. 

.He has severe anger issues but he does his best to never take them out on you. 

.He may yell at you though, especially if you have done something to put yourself at risk. 

.He has locked you away in the infinity castle for your own good, he would tell you. 

.This way no demon slayers can get to you or his children. 

.That you are his and you will be his queen. 

.He would even have a marriage ceremony made to make you his queen, all his upper moons would witness this act of marriage. 

.You would be treated like a queen and every demon would know that you belonged to Lord Muzan. 

.They would know you are to stay in Muzan's grasp but they are never to lay a hand on you and to look at you as little as possible. 

.As Muzan is a very jealous man and does not like anyone looking at the beauty you have. 

.He becomes even more possessive as the pregnancy goes on, saying that your beauty and glow are so strong as you carry his children. 

.You would be having twins, a boy and a girl. 

.Muzan would also become extremely overprotective and even more controlling than he already was. 

.You are to not leave his side and you are not to try and carry anything yourself. 

.He becomes a bit of a smothering and dotting yandere the more the pregnancy wears on, which is not only shocking to you but to all his demons as well. 

.He would also become more violent with his demons. 

.If they so as much mention your name they have their heads blown off. 

.You are his Wife, his Queen, and are THE MOTHER TO HIS CHILDREN! You deserve the respect he demands you have. 

.Anyone who dares insult you or tries to come on you, will face a fate worse than death. 

-Okay, not time for A Scenario of how you figured out you were pregnant- 

(No One's POV) (You Are Late) 

You feel dread fill you, you were one week late for your period. You have been a prisoner of Muzan's for a year now. And for the last six months, he has been trying to get you pregnant. You learned to enjoy the act of trying to make a baby. He would make sure you felt good during each love-making session. Even focusing sometimes on your pleasure and not even putting himself inside you. Those were the times you were not ovulating though. He could smell when you were ovulating and you knew for the whole time you were he would be inside you, doing his best to put a baby inside you.  So when your period for this month did not show up you felt like your world was ending. This could not be, you could not be pregnant with the original demon, the demon king himself! You were in denial and wanted to just crawl in a hole and die.  What was worse for the last week you have been having what you now know must be morning sickness. It was clear as day that you must be pregnant and that Muzan was the father. You knew he would be able to smell you were not on your period as he tacked your cycle like a goddamn hawk. You hear the door to the bedroom open and Muzan stepped in with A demon who had not seen before.  "(Name)." He says. "This is Lady Tamayo, she will be confirming if you are pregnant or not."  you nods your head and soon two other demons come in to help Tamayo. Muzan stands there watching her like a hawk.  "I am sorry." You say to her, knowing she must have been forced to do this.  "You do not have to be sorry." She says softly. "I do not blame you or any child or children that is inside you. When Muzan told me that you were pregnant, I-I cannot blame the innocent child inside of you."  "Enough chatting." Muzan snaps at her and you give her an apologetic look.  She took a blood sample and the demon would be sent off to test it. She then began to tell you and Muzan what would be expected in the first trimester and that there was a risk of miscarriage. Especially since the child or children would most likely have demonic traits. You were scared, would your children try and eat you while inside your womb... You were so scared.  Tamayo comforted you as best as she could and soon she was dismissed. Muzan walked over and smirked at you.  "My demons just told me~ You are pregnant (Name)." He tells you. "You will never leave me now, (Name)~"  You nodded and he kissed you, there was no chance of escape. Not when you were pregnant with his offspring, you are trapped. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, Another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this! and Stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[simsinlowspace]

Calico Critters - 12 Original Animal Posters

Sul sul! I hope everyone is doing well! 💜 I'm back with some totally original posters and a couple of announcements!

My daughter has been home for a few months now. She's healthy and happy, so I'm also happy. I'd planned to go back to work at the library this month, but that...did not pan out. So I've been busy working on some alternative avenues to support us.

This Simblr is almost three years old and I've always been adamant about never monetizing it. I still am. For me, this is all about having fun, sharing my creativity, and being part of an amazing community.

However, if you enjoy my designs, you can now have them for your home! I've recently opened an Etsy shop to sell my original artwork (all of which will be available for your Simmies, of course 😁). Anything purchased there will help support my new business, and of course you'll actually get something tangible in exchange. The first series is the one featured in this post, with more to come!

The shop is called CalicoOwlCreative. If you use Etsy and wouldn't mind giving it a favorite, I would be very grateful! And if you would like to buy some art for your real life home, there's a coupon code at the bottom of this post for my Simblr supporters as a thank you. 💜

Second (much shorter) announcement: I've also started a YouTube channel called Small But Spacey. Right now it has builds for No Man's Sky and Tiny Glade (and also my first mod for TG, because I just can't help myself), but I'll be adding some Sims content as soon as I get my game installation sorted out. (I swear TS2 just breaks out of spite whenever I neglect it for too long. 🤨)

Okay! So, onto the reason you're all here...the posters! You get twelve of these for - you guessed it - @linacheries’ immortal 4t2 conversion of Simsza’s National Park Prints. I did not include the mesh because I kind of assume y'all have it at this point. 😅

As always, a numbered swatch is included. These are 100% original designs, so no list of icon credits this time!

DOWNLOAD (SFS) Recolors are ~400KB

And if you do pop by the shop and want to buy something, the coupon code is SPACEY15 and good for 15% off. 💜

Lots of love, Spacey

PS - I've gotten a couple of notes about the painting being borked in the Kauri set. I will fix that as soon as I figure out what tf is going on with me game! I apologize it's been broken for so long.

[crossingthedreams]

false hope — gregory house x f!reader

masterlist | day 15 (@angstober) — false hope 

summary:  a little hope is effective, a lot of hope is dangerous. what is true for revolutions, it’s also true for relationships. 

word count: 1k

warnings: angst, drug use, mentions of overdose, no use of y/n. 

“Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective, a lot of hope is dangerous”. 

Interesting how a quote said in a context about authoritarian governments can also apply to relationships, you thought.  

In a relationship, if your hopes are too high, the chances you’ll make an Icarus of yourself, fly too close to the sun and burn are considerable. It’s good, healthy to expect certain things — that he’ll remember your birthday, that you’ll go to a movie together, and so on and so forth. Too much of this, too much hope, is certain to doom not only the relationship, but it's bearer’s mental health. 

Every time one hopes too high, they are bound for disappointment or to have even higher hopes in the future, which will also inevitably lead to disappointment. 

You had come to this realization at a young age, and it made your life easier in many ways. Hope is a very dangerous feeling. 

You were older now, but not as old as your man. His graying hair and beard were so attractive, it made him look so mature. Too fucking bad he constantly acted like a child. You were able to laugh it off most times, like when he teased you for being younger. He enjoyed when you could tease and taunt him as well, such as the time when you put Barbie decorations on all of his canes.

You had fun. Until you hadn’t.

He always had a pill problem, ever since you met you saw him take the tiny bottle from his coat and pop a pill or two every other hour. 

It was fine, until it wasn’t. 

The first time he threw up on you, the first real crisis you had, was almost a year ago. You stood by his side through it all, even when everyone told you to leave. Even Wilson mentioned how hopeless this was for you. 

To hell with them all. You had done something you promised you wouldn’t: you chose to have hope. Not only a little bit, but a lot. Enough hope for you and the recovering pill addict man you loved so freaking much. 

Seeing only his potential for growth, and potential was there, it was easy to feed yourself false hopes. Hope is dangerous when it’s too much, but a false hope is always a tragedy. 

What a tragedy it was when you were cleaning the coatroom of your shared apartment and found a secret stash of his pills. And what a fucking tragedy it was when you drove yourself to the hospital where he worked to confront him.

You stormed through the reception so quickly, you didn’t hear or see Cuddy calling your name. You were sure you looked terrible. Still in your cleaning-mode clothing and a pair of ugg boots, you looked like a teenager going through a first break up. Your nose was stuffy and red from the tears you cried, and you had a gigantic frown on your face. 

When the elevator’s doors opened on his floor, you marched up to the glass doors and tried to walk in and yell at him in front of his fellows. You knew their names, but didn’t bother with it right now. You just stood there, waiting for him to see you. 

His gaze met yours, and your world stopped. He knew what you knew, and it was clear to both of you this would be an argument. 

He motioned towards his office, and said something to the three doctors. As he left, the tallest one complained about something and your man just flipped him off. Any other occasion, you would have laughed. 

Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to smile, let alone laugh. You walked into his office, and used your gray coat to hug yourself. It was cold in the street but, somehow, it was colder in here. 

“I found your pills”, you said in a normal tone, surprising even you. You were sure you’d scream and cry and throw something at him, but no. No screams came to you. This was too exhausting. 

You extended your arm and gave it to him. He took it, looked at the table and placed it at his desk like they were nothing. Like they didn’t almost destroy him, destroy you. You just shook your head as he called your name.

Tears began to flood your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you cry.  

“I understand how this looks like”, he began, but stopped when you scoffed. 

“It looks ridiculous, that’s what it looks like, Greg!”, you exclaimed, frowning once more. You hoped you didn’t look as broken as you sounded at this moment. “You promised me it was over. Was all that you gave me false hope?”

“I also gave that cute handbag”. 

You scoffed again, motioning towards the exit. 

“C’mon, it was just a joke”, it was his turn to exclaim. You turned back to meet his distraught expression. 

You both stood in silence for a heartbeat before he continued: “It’s unbearable sometimes. It’s why I have that hidden out. That’s all”. 

“I don’t think I believe you”, you said, feeling the tears stream down your cheek. This was all too much. 

You hadn’t realized you reached your breaking point up until now. You saw the face of the man you knew you loved and you felt more exhausted than ever. The constant fear of him falling down the rabbit hole, of him not being the person you knew he could be — it was enough.

You refused to look at him again for now, because if you did, all you’d see is the drug addict who almost killed himself the year before. 

There was a reason why you only let yourself have so much hope. You were reminded of that fact on the drive home, when your heart felt like it would stop beating on your chest. 

[shnoob]

Kurapika Kurta HC’s:

A/N: FINALLY ONTO HXH!! I have been wanting to do this for a LONG time but life got in the way, which it will again this week but I'm very excited to get this out there!  

C/W: Has both fluff and angst!

Leave any suggestions if you want to see something specific!  

Fluff:

Is one of THE best people to ask about making bracelets or anything crafty related. Due to his exterior, he seems like somebody who wouldn't care about it (in for his goals he doesn’t do them often) but back at the village, he would teach all the little kids how.  

Speaking of the village he also is probably really good about braiding hair or doing other people's hair. I can see him back then being an older figure to all the kids in the village so being that figure comes with responsibilities!! 

If you need to know any definition or any historical facts, he is your man. You’ve seen him read those books, he’s educated!! Not only does he do it for fun (and probably used those skills for the Spiders-), but for the exam to go out into the real world he found some research on the history of the outside world to get him at least some sort of idea what he was stepping into. 

Would 100% correct you if you spelled/or pronounced something wrong. If that ends up being verbal or just in his head? Depends on his mood. 9/10 it's in his head but catch him in a bad mood and he won't hesitate to mummer it under his breath.  

Yes, he is very stand-offish due to his life/profession BUT I like to believe that deep down he is a really good listener and will pay attention. I mean we can see it first season!! Sure he may not say anything once it gets to the point where he’s in York New but he does retain the information said to him and just leaves it on the back burner. 

Back on the crafty gig, he knows how to crochet and knit. Instead of buying bookmarkers to not lose his place in his book, he makes his own (when he has the time anyway). 

One of the neatest people known to mankind. Although he doesn't get the time to do it, having a clean environment makes him happy and makes him focus better. If not in a clean environment such as his room, I feel like it stresses him out to where he needs to get up and put some stuff away before he can lay down and then stress about the Spiders. 

Tea drinker!! Drinks coffee but doesn't like the taste of it. LOVESS a tea that tastes more fruity <3.  

LOVES nicknames. Giving or receiving them deep down means something to him. Especially after you give one to him, if you don't use it he’ll wonder why and get a bit disheartened :(.   

The biggest gentlemen around! Holds doors for people, always says thank you and excuse me when moving around, biggest tipper etc. An “angel from above” is the words you’d hear people using for him from strangers. It has come to the point where if he enters a coffee shop he often goes to they already know and get in such a good mood. 

Loves birds!! As a side hobby he has a collection of pictures of birds he’s taken over the years. With that, he has definitely learned some bird calls and will not hesitate to show somebody the difference between them.

(is in love with Leorio I swear!!)  

Angst: 

When he was younger, the color red was something that was noted as a good thing, and due to his clan he was so confident in his eyes. Now he cant bare to look into the mirror somedays just because of his eyes. 

With the color red, he cant stand the thought of it being his favorite color. He probably doesn't even have one after everything due to how attached he was to red and now that attachment is unhealthy. 

Seriously doesn't take care of himself. Like at all. As much as I love the fluff he wouldn't know what a healthy life looks like anymore.  

Has so much survivor's guilt (which this one is obvious but to the point where it hurts). 

A lot of people say that he doesnt care about his friends bu he definitely does. In fact I say that he lives in a detachment type style. Due to his deep rage and focus it makes him feel that being away from everybody he cares about is the right thing to do because he cant let anybody else get hurt and theres no time to be doing things he enjoys most. By this though, he feels those surges of guilt by not keeping in touch; but now its been so long without talking to them the guilt of going back is so deep he cant bare to face them. 

When he cries most of the time he doesnt even realize. His brain just shuts down to where it doesnt register that he is upset and needs to take a minute. It doesnt help that half of the time tears dont even fall, so its just a emotional block. 

Will never be able to commit to a romantic situation but still dreams of it :(.

[grims-local-pkmn-irl-hub]

How to Write Engaging Anons

I’ve spoken to a lot of people behind close doors and we have all come to a realization: PKMN IRL as a community isn’t the greatest at sending engaging anons,,,

A lot of anons tend to get off track from what the blog runner is trying to do or will send completely unrelated anons during a plot moment on someones blog which can be incredibly frustrating for the blog runner.

So, I’ve decided to compile a little “guide” to help.

Look over the recent posts of a blog to see if they’re doing anything that could be considered plot relevant before sending an anon. Are they vague posting about something? Did they cut off a tangent too short? Did they mention they have stories to share if anyone wants them? Did they say something off or slightly concerning? ASK ABOUT IT! Ask them to elaborate! Ask for more detail!

Try and keep asks on task if a plot hook/point is currently happening. It is incredibly discouraging for a blog runner to see the notif for an anon only to open it and it have nothing to do with what they are currently trying to reveal/be engaged with. Do not latch onto a bit like your life depends on it because you are most likely just tiring out the blog runner who just wants to share interesting character/story info. Bits have a time and a place.

Don’t have a character that would realistically send that anon? Then don’t send it as that character, send it as yourself. The blog runner and character will not know the difference. This also has an added benefit of baiting a character into talking about something you know your character can then interact with. Anons are great for interaction in more ways than just asks.

Worried someone already sent the ask you’re about to send? SEND IT ANYWAYS! A blog runner would much prefer two of asks of generally the same question than zero asks! And it shows that people care enough to ask that question twice! It gives the blog runner something to think about when writing!

Don’t have any idea of what anon to send without an ask game? SEND THE SUPER “BASIC” ONES! I promise you that very basic questions like “how do feel about this”, “why do you say that”, “you mentioned [this], can you elaborate more” ARE LOVED BY BLOG RUNNERS!!! So much can be understood about a character’s mental state or attitude depending on how they choose to answer these questions. They’re “basic” and “overused” because they are really good questions to ask!

Try and engage critically with a character! Remember! This is an RP community! We are playing these characters as if they are real so you need to treat them like people! For example: Telling a very clearly mentally ill character that their thought process isn’t healthy and that they should just go to therapy isn’t the most helpful anon and it especially isn’t when that seems to be all the blog runner gets when they’re character gets like that. A good way to try and engage critically is to ask similar questions as above such as “why do you think that” along with some others like “can you walk me through your thought process”, “do you know when you started acting/thinking like this”, etc.

IC Hate Anons. These anons are fun and good! They can be very useful for story telling and showing off certain aspects of a character! They can also be super draining especially when that seems to be all that a character gets when trying to do plot hooks/points. It can make a blog runner’s motivation wane and deplete when all it ever seems like is that anons want to use their character as a punching bag. A good way to negate this is if you send an IC hate anon is to quickly follow it up with an anon that’s trying to engage critically and is asking questions and treating the character as a person. This allows for a blog runner to have choices on whether they want their character to be a punching bag right now and get beat down or would rather follow the anons line of questioning.

Ask games. I know I’m beating a dead horse here but SEND AN ASK TO THE PERSON YOU ARE REBLOGGING FROM. The blog runner will see you reblogging it from them and be waiting for an ask to come in and then it never does. Send an ask. They are literally pre-written most of the time. Okay that’s all I have to say here. 👍

Make sure the anon has some sort of substance. Even when sending anons outside of plot periods make sure the anon has something the character and blog runner can actually feasibly answer. One word anons that are just “yeah” or “okay” are incredibly difficult to respond to. So is randomly being sent quotes or things that just generally have nothing to do with the blog or pokemon in general. People have an easier time when being sent asks about their character’s pokemon, family, friends, most recent stupid post, etc. I have about 40 anons rotting in my inbox for @/espers-n-espurrs because they have nothing to respond to. And this isn’t to say silly/dumb anons shouldn’t be a thing. They should be but they should also be something someone could reasonably reply with besides just replying with “why the fuck did you send me this”.

In all, remember you are not only engaging with a character and their story but you are also engaging with a blog runner. You may never know their name or have a one on one conversation with them but the asks you send their characters do have an effect on the blog runner.

Show that you are engaging with their character, show that you care about the story they are trying to tell.

Reblogs are important for interaction but in my mind asks are the backbone of this community. A good ask and a good response allows for a good chance for others to be able to interact with the response IC.

But yeah, remember, the blog runner is still there behind that screen, you are still interacting with them when you interact with their character. Give them something to work with when you send an ask.

[genericpuff]

Dyou ever feel disappointed (?) that there aren't more eyes on LR? I know you keep it on the DL to avoid Rachel's wrath but I 100% know the only reason it's not more popular is that not enough people know about it. You put in a lot of work that we all really love but I know the notes count could be higher. Is this something you care about? We can try to spread it more if so, but going back to the Rachel/not intruding on LO spaces point...

Ouu so that's a good question, but honestly... nah, not really. And I'm not even saying that to be "humble" or whatever, it's literally just... what y'all are seeing in Rekindled is, to me, a step away from my usual patterns and habits that I've been dealing with for years now. It's forced me out of my comfort zones, but most importantly, it's got me creating purely for the fun of it, for the self-indulgence, without any of the usual pressures I've forced upon myself in the past for the work I do to "mean something" or for it to "be successful". It's not just the tip of a massive iceberg, it's practically a whole ass detour. Rekindled is like one of those road trip movies where the reluctant stickler gets strung along by the aloof weirdos, driven off the beaten path, and winds up realizing by the end of the crazy journey that it was worth taking the long way home.

That's not to say making Rekindled doesn't come with its own unique pressures or that I don't take it seriously, but they're different from the pressures I've dealt with in the past and the nature of Rekindled being what it is means... I don't have to take it as seriously as the car crash that was my original work prior to it? 💀😆 (which I already took way more seriously than what was healthy for me, in hindsight). Like I can take it seriously as a creative project that I wanna see through, especially where it's meant to "fix" stuff that felt misguided / done poorly in LO, but because it's effectively fanfiction, I can separate it from the expectations that came from my original work. It can never pay my bills, so I don't have to worry about it doing so. It shouldn't be the only thing I'm ever known for, so I don't need it to amount to my legacy.

A good example of what I mean are what you brought up - the notes count. Thing is, compared to social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook and even Youtube, posting exclusively to Tumblr over the past couple years has been great for my mental health. Unlike those other platforms, my follower count isn't on full display to both myself and others. There's no real bearing on notes beyond clout, and that clout only exists within Tumblr - going "viral" on this hellsite doesn't amount to the same things as going viral on a platform like Twitter, for the most part my work still stays within its respective audience where it's meant to be and even if I do have an episode "take off" in notes... it doesn't really matter? Like to me there's virtually no difference between a post that has 300 notes and a post that has 30,000 notes. And I actually do have a couple posts that have "taken off" like that. It's neat but it's also like... okay, life goes on. Except now I'm gonna keep getting notifications about that one post forever LMAO

Granted, it would be different if the posts were actually intended to get as many eyes on it as possible - like if they were posts meant to generate income in some way through advertising Patreon, Ko-Fi, merch shops, etc. - but it's rare that I ever do that because obviously with Rekindled being what it is, I can't really profit off it anyways.

And that's okay! I've spent enough years worrying over the online "gains" and bearing the weight of my work's responsibility to my livelihood on my shoulders.

Rekindled is fun. Even when it's stressful, when an episode goes up late or when I'm still finding myself procrastinating, it's fun. It's neat that it now has a TV Tropes page and that there are some Youtubers who talk about it every now and then, but... the novelty of those things comes paired with the pressure and fear of knowing my work is being perceived outside of my own scope. Sure, that's just what happens when you share your work online, but even I , in all of the hubris I had to have to create Rekindled in the first place, can't pretend like I'm infallible to that sort of thing. Every time a Youtuber talks about it, every time there's a thread in /r/webtoons about it, every time someone besides myself uses the #lore rekindled tags, I have to live with the small but real consequences of doing what I do - the anons taking it upon themselves to judge me in my own inbox, the Youtube commenters forming their own opinions based on what they assume are my intentions (even when those assumptions are often false), the redditors arguing back and forth over the virtue of transformative rewrites.

It's a small price to pay, for everything that I do here. I can't very well sit here on my pedestal talking shit about something like LO without taking some of that shit in return regarding my own work. It's only natural people will have misinformed opinions about what I do, or will take it upon themselves to dissect and debate and discuss my work regardless of whether they even like the work or not. I try to take it as proactively as I can, that it's a metric of success in and of itself - what I'm making has made people feel something, for some joy, and for others, frustration. The art has done everything it could ever do, for better and for worse - it's made people feel and think and talk. Most of all, it's made me feel and think and talk, and create, and experiment, and fail, and succeed in ways I never thought myself capable before. It's more than I ever expected - and all I really needed to come out of all this.

----------

All that aside, it's not like Rekindled isn't already doing a lot in the way of "expanding my reach", so to speak. Though it is just Tumblr, I've gotten to meet so many amazing readers and writers and artists through this project, and that's at the heart of why I make comics at all. I'm not joking or exaggerating when I say that Rekindled literally couldn't be what it is without the community that surrounds it. And that's a community that I'm hoping will still be interested in hanging with lil' old me even after Rekindled is over.

Rekindled isn't my first rodeo and it certainly won't be my last. In fact, I'm currently (finally) overcoming some of the burnout that's been persisting over the past couple years with my original project, and I'm breaking down walls I literally couldn't have broken down before. I hadn't realized I had been suffocating, and Rekindled wound up being that breath of fresh air that I needed to live again.

It's gonna take time, and there's still a lot of healing happening on my end, but I'm making plans again for what I really wanna do esp for when Rekindled is over, and it's exciting, and scary, and most of all, hopeful.

So all that's to say, if you (anon) or you (everyone else) are really interested in "boosting" my work and getting more eyes on it... well, I suppose I better start sharing more of it outside of just Rekindled, shouldn't I? I hope that when I do, it's welcomed as eagerly as you all welcomed Rekindled. It'll be quite different, and likely won't be everyone's cup of tea, but I hope all the work I've done on Rekindled so far - and what we still have left to accomplish in the future - proves what I'm capable of and allows for the opportunity to really connect with my work, wholly me. Y'all took a chance on me when I first started posting those lil' glow edits and the first scrappy sketches of Rekindled back in the day, so I hope when the time comes, y'all can take that chance on me again <3

And hey, here's a fun fact for you to close out this long response - though it might not be a major platform, judging by the metrics I can see on the surface from other comics alongside it, I'm pretty sure Rekindled is carrying like 90% of the current traffic numbers on Dillyhub LMAO Like seriously, the next highest liked / subbed comic I could find on there didn't even amount to a third of the amount of likes and subs I have on there just through Rekindled. It's actually hilarious, but also kinda sad, because damn... the devs really have abandoned that place. So it's not exactly all that impressive. But that's pretty much exactly why I chose it as a mirror in the first place - I sure as shit wasn't gonna test my luck posting it to Webtoons or Tapas, and the only reason I even wanted a mirror site in the first place was to give non-Tumblr users a place to read it (without being badgered to make an account and without having to sift through all my rants and essays LMAO) so Dillyhub just kinda made sense as a place that was functional enough to host it but not big enough to draw any unwanted attention. Sooo I guess what I'm saying is, you're welcome Dillyhub?? 😆

[cosmic-daydreamz02]

Give me your moon and venus placement and I can give you your ideal self care routine.

Mine is moon in Virgo in the 7th house and Pisces Venus in the first house. This means I should balance routine and order with spirituality and nurturing. Since it's on the 1st and 7th axis, it's also about balancing me time with time for personal relationships with others.For moon in virgo, order and cleanliness is important, make sure your space is kept neat and organized and try to eat clean, healthy whole foods (Virgo rules the digestive system and gut). Since it's also in the 7th house, setting boundaries in close relationships is important. Also, could be fun to do self care like face masks, mani/pedicures, healthy eating with close friends, family, or even better your partner. Some fun things to incorporate would be a good skincare routine, workout classes or working out with people you're in close relationships with, meal prepping, and meticulous grooming habits (making sure everything [hair, skin, nails, outfit, space] looks clean and polished). Pisces Venus needs to let their imagination and spirituality out. Reading a good book or watching a movie could be fun for alone time. Since it's in the first house of self and physical appearance, you need your alone time to recharge. Venus in the first house could love experimenting with new hair, makeup, and clothing styles. Both moon in Virgo and Venus in Pisces would benefit from mindfulness habits like yoga and journaling. They should also use more natural products and try to use the least amount of products possible. Because Pisces could get overwhelmed with too rigid of a routine and Virgo is all about minimalism and modesty.

The only placements I didn't read for were Aquarius and 11th house Moon or Venus, the rest you can find in the comments.

With Aquarius moon or Venus an ideal self-care routine would emphasize freedom and intellectual stimulation. Aquarius thrives on mental stimulation, so engaging in activities that challenge your intellect could be fun for you. You could learning through online courses. This placement could also suggest a need for digital detoxes or finding a balance between online and real life interactions. Aquarius loves freedom, and as social as they are, they need their solitude every once in a while. Solo trips or dates with yourself could both appeal to moon or venus in aquarius.

With 11th house moon or venus, you may love doing self care with friends or in group settings. You could be interested in group workout classes or spa days with friends. If your moon is here, you could like friend dates or doing your emotional self care, like journaling with friends. If it's your venus it would be more about your beauty treatments, so like getting your nails done together or doing eachothers hair treatments.

[married-to-google-translater]

Hello, I found out that requests are open right now and I hope you don’t mind, but can I have some headcanons of how Carla and Shin react to find out their S/O is a good hunter (not like a Vampire hunter, like real life hunters, hunting animals and good with snipers and stuff)

Shin Tsukinami

I hope you don't hunt wolves because if you did Shin would be pissed.

If you hunted other animals he would be interested.

Maybe a little proud that you know how to do this but wouldn't admit it.

Instead, he might scoff that you need hunting aids.

This is how a healthy relationship works :D

However, Shin would like to try your stuff.

You can often find him fiddling around with your weapon accessories.

It's all fun and games until Shin accidentally breaks something.

This would surely happen sooner or later.

You will have to explain the price of your scope with peanut cans.

He would have to get you a new one.

However, there are also good sides to this...

Shin would definitely like to hunt with you.

This would be a great way to pass the time.

At the same time, Shin would also get to show off his own powers.

He would have to show you that he is the best at hunting.

Carla Tsukinami

Carla would be surprisingly nonchalant about this.

He would have high standards for his partner and this does not meet them.

Carla would enjoy it if she was clearly stronger than you.

Of course, even if you were a good hunter, you would still be no match for him.

However, this wouldn't bother him terribly.

Maybe because you can no longer hunt without his permission.

Normally, Carla wouldn't really give you permission.

He doesn't want to risk you getting hurt or something.

However, on some special occasions you could go hunting together.

Maybe Carla will get you extra parts for your weapon as a gift.

You should keep him in a good mood :3

[movingthisblogcelestialtarot11]

Synastry I loved 🤍🌹

Hi everyone 💖 I want to discuss synastry and what I liked about it! Sharing some real life experiences here. Feel free to comment, like and reblog.

Moon in the 4th house 🌜💖- This overlay created a lot of emotional intimacy and comfort between me and a friend. This is the best moon synastry in my perspective. The mutual understanding is there, the respect and comfort is reciprocated. Very intuitive bond as well, the moon person knows what the house person needs.

Venus in the 12th house 🧘‍♀️🌟- My best friend and I share this placement. We are long distance, yet our spiritual bond keeps us connected. We dream of each other and when we know something is off, we tell each other. It’s more of an intuitive feeling we get. I am able to channel her spirit guides and any message to her, and I was able to have deep spirit sessions with a loved one for her ❤️‍🩹

Sun in the 7th house 🌷🍵- This synastry is questionable being that the 7th house rules enemies. When in a great bond, the sun person provides ambition in the relationship, motivation and effort. Funny moments are constantly had and the laughter doesn’t end. It’s giving crackhead 🤣

1st moon/sun synastry 💖🌹- This synastry is also questionable being that it can create idolization, competition. But when good, both people can look up to one another and inspire each other to grow. The sun/moon person has qualities the house person adores, and wants to adapt into their life. This synastry is significant for inner work and growth. When both people are mature, inner work can help advance the connection.

Venus in the 8th 🌃🌟- An intertwined relationship. No one quite understands how the connection works except for the two involved. It was a deep experience for me, transformative at best. The kind of love that is rare, or you don’t see all of the time. A spiritual bond extending time and space. This is also questionable being that it led to competition, jealousy, and separation when the two are not able to come together to heal.

Moon in the 7th house 🌹💗- The moon person comes forward quietly, but has a powerful and intuitive way of connecting with the house person. This is debatable too, being that the moon person can have fears and doubts, and hide them. But there is a feeling of giving here, and nurturing when the connection is healthy. The house person feels nurtured, seen and understood, and feels a part of them is in the moon person. I really liked this.

Sun in the 6th house 🌟💘- The sun person brings enthusiasm, passion and drive in daily routine. A friend and I would go out a lot, enjoy our moments and it was filled with laughter. Spending time with her was always fun, warm and filled with joy.

Thats all! Thank ya’ll for reading 💗 feel free to add anything!

Paid Readings 🤍🍵

Distance Energy Healing Services 🧘‍♀️🥀

[self-made-purgatories]

Wheel out the bar cart and pick a bouquet of wheat; it's McKirk Day!!

TOS McKirk are so special to me. Jim and Bones share such a profound intimacy that only comes from deeply knowing and loving someone for a very long time. From the very first episode of the series, they already have that sweet "old married couple" energy I love so much.

I headcanon them as friendly on-again-off-again exes who love each other deeply and remain intimate in lots of ways, whether or not they are an official couple at that particular time. I also headcanon that Bones, who is a little older and wiser, was Jim's first romantic and sexual relationship with a man.

I can also see them in a deeply fulfilling queerplatonic partnership, and I totally get when people ship them in that way. But I personally headcanon that their deep emotional intimacy is both an ingredient and a byproduct of an absolutely electric sex life together.

The hallmark of their relationship is constancy. They always have each other's backs. Sometimes you just NEED somebody around. They are that somebody to each other.

They are each other's emergency contact, best friend, shoulder to cry on, drinking buddy who will hold your hair back later if needed. The first person you tell everything to, whether it's good news or bad news. They genuinely enjoy one another's company and they have lots of fun together.

My two favorite glimpses into their intimacy that are 100% canon: Bones has the Enterprise equivalent of a key to Jim's door and is able to open Jim's door without knocking (Obsession), and also, they sometimes get dressed together (Journey to Babel)!

Perhaps most importantly, they are both great communicators. They sometimes lose their shit with each other like anyone else in a stressful situation, but they always come back and talk about it later in a very healthy, direct, no-frills way. They openly apologize for their transgressions. They forgive each other.

Just look at this exchange from Friday's Child:

KIRK: Bones. MCCOY: Yes, Captain? KIRK: I shouldn't have chewed you out. I'm sorry. MCCOY: I understand.

Or this exchange from The Man Trap:

MCCOY: Another error on my part. KIRK: I'm not counting them, Bones. Are you in the mood for an apology? MCCOY: Oh, forget it.

As people sometimes say, Jim and Bones are the soul and the heart of the TOS triumvirate. As much as I love everybody's favorite Vulcan-Human, sometimes love doesn't need as much mind as you might think it does. Sometimes you don't have to overthink it. Sometimes it's just comfortable and intimate and unconditional. Sometimes you can just say, "I understand" and leave it at that. That's what McKirk is to me.

Don't get me wrong; I ship every combination of the TOS triumvirate. But Spock is so guarded and repressed and turned inward. It makes him exciting and interesting and unpredictable and sexy. But it kneecaps his relationships in a lot of ways.

Bones would never have a sibling he failed to mention to Jim. If Jim found himself in a fuck-or-die situation got so horny he was feeling distracted, he would simply tell Bones (and Bones would fix it for him right away). It's uncomplicated.

Of all the twosomes in McSpirk, McKirk is the most like a real, healthy, happy couple. Real-life relationships are mostly honesty and intimacy and allowing yourself to be vulnerable and showing up again and again. Putting in the work AND enjoying the fireworks. That is what McKirk is to me. I'm so glad we have a day to celebrate this beautiful love story!

Thank you @mckirkevents!