#but he still can't remember him so he's just afraid and desperate and so confused T~T 💔

[howthesleeplesswander]

❛ i’m sorry, but i’m just thinking of the right words to say. ❜ // @Kazuma but... Masked Apprentice Kazuma?? 👀👀👀👀

Songs from the 80's Sentence Starters | Accepting! | @tenacquity

((hoooOOOWEE ARE YOU READY TO CRY?? 8'D I SURE HOPE SO, HERE WE GOOO))

The right words?

He may have laughed at the statement if he remembered how. If it weren't so cruel in its irony. For the words this man spoke didn't matter when the mere sound of his voice shook the Apprentice to his core.

Every time, without fail. After months of wandering the foggy London streets like a wraith plucked from a ghost story, the feeling of being utterly lost was never as powerful—or as weak—as in this man's presence.

He made the emptiness inside of him better, yet simultaneously worse. As the Apprentice watched him struggle to speak, he didn't recognize the churning depths of his eyes or the thoughtful crease to his brow—and that unfamiliarity ached unlike anything else. Earth-shattering, even though he couldn't understand it. Powerful enough to change everything if only he could remember.

And he wanted to, with a desperation he didn't know himself capable of feeling before their fateful meeting in the Prosecutor's Office only yesterday. But he couldn't. He'd tried. And the same thought crushed down upon his shoulders now as it did then:

What right did he have to something—to someone—he did not know?

He shouldn't be here.

He'd never intended to face him to begin with. With the halls of the Old Bailey dim and abandoned for the night, the Apprentice had been about to leave, too: prepared to spend another night searching for anything that might trigger his memories, if the other man hadn't found him first.

Wasn't this exactly what he'd wanted? No—not this. It was too much. Too painful.

The Apprentice took a step back. Then another. Each one soundless yet stilted as he battled against himself: trapped between a visceral urge to flee, to leave this man behind—and an equally powerful conviction that he couldn't. Not again.

—again?

He didn't...They didn't... Did they?

It was too much...!

In the end the Apprentice moved no further. He merely watched, dark eyes unreadable in the shadows of his mask and cloak. Silently weathering the tempest of nonsensical emotion surging through his rib cage. Waiting for something he didn't understand.

Or, perhaps, simply waiting for the right words.

[yanderefarm]

I need us pretending/threatening Emil with a divorce even after saying we wouldn’t 🙏🙏

this is a part 2 to this story

in your villain arc fr. i know if emil knew how you were manipulating him and playing him like a puppet he wouldn't even be mad he'd be like "thats hot wtf"

cw;; drugging, cheating, non-con (implied), abuse, manipulation

oh your poor husband, he's so pathetic and easy to break.

after your brutal breaking of his body with the cheating scandal you had been oh so generous to help him rebuild his all his lost favour. his ever loving husband who loved him past his worst flaws gave him a better reputation just by staying by his side. all he had to do was give into you, take you places, stop holding you at arms length like he was afraid of you running away and getting close to him at the same time. really all you wanted was more of his love and if that meant you had to break him down to nothing then you guess that's what you would do.

you walked into his office to find him surrounded by people, a familiar sight since his last scandal. you pushed past them to his desk, watching emil flinch away from your presence. you didn't need to yell and get angry this time, you knew exactly how to break him.

"i want a divorce."

you placed the newspaper on the desk to punctuate your sentence, the headline was a young noble woman's testimony of how the king had cornered her at the last royal banquet. another lie you had paid a pretty penny to get out there. you knew emil's head had been fuzzy since the last scandal, all it took was hiring a woman from a family desperate for money to force herself on him and then lie about it. he didn't even remember the night, he couldn't argue with you about it.

you heard his pathetic sob. that sound he would never usually make in front of anyone else. you turned back to see him still surrounded by his advisors and other noblemen but among their shocked faces you could see your husband had tears in his eyes.

"out." you ordered and they very quickly filed out leaving you two in a familiar position.

you walked back to the desk and stared down at him. your husband, already a broken and confused mess, hung his head like a kicked puppy dog so you couldn't see his eyes you could only hear him crying. you let out a heavy sigh.

"what am I supposed to do, emil? you clearly don't love me."

"that's not-"

"how many more women do i have to find out about before you admit it?"

"i don't remember that night... i don't think- i-"

a silence formed between you both only interrupted by his crying.

"i remember that night. i remember you left the party early to get some fresh air and you didn't come back."

he was shaking.

"..... if you had just talked to me we could have come to an agreement about concubines. if you didn't want to be with a man all you had to do was tell me. you don't have to keep humiliating me publicly and then lying about it."

"im not ly-"

you slammed your hands on the table making him flinch.

"you are. you're lying to me. you slept with the maid and then you lied about it and i forgave you. i forgave you because i thought you would learn your lesson."

"please... please punish me again please anything else... kill me, torture me, hate me, anything but leaving me..." he finally looked at you and you could see his pink eyes were cloudy and confused as tears dripped down his face.

".... that's pathetic emil. you want me to beat you but..." you forced your own tears along with your voice cracking. "you can't even say you love me."

emil tried to stand up, stumbling against the desk as his legs wobbled underneath him.

"don't leave me. please." his hand weakly grabbed your wrist

"do you love me?"

"yes."

"how am i supposed to trust that? how am i supposed to trust you? can you even say it? can you tell me you love me?"

"i...i...."

you ripped your hand away from him making him stumble again.

"I'm going to get the divorce papers ready. you're going to sign them."

you turned on your heel and left your husband sobbing in his office.

your plan to make the great emil landorr your mindbroken bitch was going along perfectly. it was going to be harder to drug him when you moved into the queen's palace but you were confident that the separation would drive him just as crazy.

[ivystoryweaver]

3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 3 of 5 - Hands

previous || Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: Jake can't waste any more time or he will be the one who ends up dead...but killing you doesn't come as easily to him as he'd hoped

Word Count: 2.8k

Content: nsfw, mdni, more below the cut

Frottage, groping, choking, language, glove kink, dry humping, violence, murder, a surprise guest, not beta'd

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He invaded your mind almost every second of the day.

Who was he?

Why was he toying with you?

When would you see him again?

You needed a drink. Several, in fact. So, for the first time since the night before Jake's first "attempt" on your life, you descended upon Chicago's nightlife with your friends. Your so-called friends anyway. You didn't feel incredibly close to anyone, but the girls provided a decent enough distraction for drinking, dancing and gossiping.

Tonight your dress reflected none of your typical classy air. The cut and fit of the outrageously tiny garment scandalously displayed the rage roiling inside you.

"If your father sees a photograph of you like this, he'll kill you," one of your bodyguards warned.

Kissing your teeth, you climbed into the awaiting car. "If I tell him how you just ogled me, he'll kill you."

That shut him up.

Still, he had a point. Your father liked to think he still had some sway over how you conducted yourself in public. Well, fuck him. Because of him, someone wanted you dead.

Someone you desperately craved to see again.

Three drinks and several dances later, the slightest bit of tension began to ease out of you. The flashing lights, thumping bass and strong alcohol blurred the worry and frustration, at least for the moment. Your two so-called friends and their hookups had already vanished.

Then you felt a gloved hand wrap around your bare arm as a warm body crowded in behind you.

"Dance with me," he breathed on your ear, gripping both your arms and pulling your back against the solid wall of his chest.

All the air rushed out of you - a wild, raging kind of relief confusing you. Danger surrounded you - it seemed to roll off him - but your lowered inhibitions had you rubbing yourself up against him before you could even remember to be afraid.

The rhythm of his body instantly matched yours, the two of you moving in delicious synchrony as he gripped your hips, corresponding to the heat and vigor of your grinding.

"I don't know you." Your head fell back onto his shoulder as your lips chased his ear, so he would hear you over the club's thump and roar. "I don't even know who's trying to kill me - not even your name."

Jake's smile teased the shell of your ear - his stubble temptingly tickling your flesh. Maybe he was growing his beard back out.

Pushing his hands down over the tops of your thighs, he spread your legs apart, as you danced up on him. Tracing his gloved fingertips back up your legs, he halted when he felt a gun situated in a thigh holster.

His cock, half hard already, stiffened against the curve of your ass. "You kept it," he rumbled into your ear, leaving the weapon in place. "Good girl." He then dragged his hands up over your hips to wrap securely around your abdomen, holding you almost like a lover would. "Did you have as much fun with the gun as you did the knife?"

Normally, you would have spat back a reply full of snark and cursing, but, the alcohol had smoothed your rough edges for the moment. "I had more fun this time," you admitted freely. "Fucked myself with it. Came so hard."

"Jesus," he whistled, grinding into you with obvious intention, while you gladly rubbed your barely covered ass up and down his length to the music's pulse. His hands crawled up to your breasts as he realized how far beyond his control he'd let you take him.

He'd never behaved so unprofessionally, allowing a mark to slip away twice, even encouraging you to protect yourself, with his own weapon, no less.

And now, probably walking right into a seductive trap, his cock hungry for a good fuck, tense and ready after images of you fucking your sopping cunt down on his gun filling his mind. He wanted you more than anything. No one had made him feel so out of control...well, ever.

There was no hiding what the two of you were doing now - with Jake groping both your breasts and thrusting wildly against you. Despite the debauchery around you - your own vulgar display was beginning to draw some attention.

"Not here," you said forcefully, shifting away from him, feeling the slightest victory that he seemed to really want you - to actually be distracted and overcome with desire.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Jake gripped your hand and led you to a much more secluded spot, darker, up against a wall. Not entirely private, but better.

Caging you in, the heat of his body trapped you there, sturdy thighs pressed against yours as he adjusted his hips to rut his cock up against your core.

You mewled out a whimper, your legs falling open for him.

All he wanted was to sink his teeth into the meat of your neck, suck his mark there and push into you until he came, just to get some goddamn relief, but he feebly held onto his last shred of self-preservation.

The air between you shifted drastically making you instantly regret pausing your dance out in the middle of the floor.

"No more games," he gruffly warned, gathering your wrists and pushing them over your head, easily holding them in place with one hand.

His free hand slid back down the length of your arm to the top of your breast, which you hoped he would fondle indulgently - instead, he shifted back up to wrap it around your throat.

Cold eyes bore into yours as his jaw twitched with something like apprehension.

"No," you quickly choked out before he squeezed.

Dark eyebrows arched and in his gaze, you saw the storm of conflict. But you were losing him.

"This ends tonight," he huffed, nodding once as if trying to convince himself as much as you.

Gone was the fire of your sensual dance. He wasn't getting off on this. He wasn't playing around. He was here to finish the job.

"P-lease..." you gasped, desperate for air, hating yourself for begging. Although, it actually worked. He eased off, if only a fraction. "I'm s-sorry," you whimpered, tears slipping out of your wild, terrified eyes. "I'm sorry about your brother. Please..."

Jake's jaw clenched as his eyes flashed with something unrecognizable. Maybe hesitation. Or doubt. "He was just a kid," Jake spat. "Your father is a monster."

You could try to struggle against his compact but strong frame. You could hope to signal your bodyguards that beneath the music’s roar and the dim lights, a murder was about to occur.

But you found that you wanted him to decide not to kill you.

"I know," you whimpered, nodding quickly. "I know what my father is. What he's done." Sniffling, you squeezed your eyes shut as fresh tears spilled over your lashes. "Do what you have to do if it will give you peace. But just decide." This life-or-death edging was pure torture. And you only hated yourself for how badly you wanted him. "Please don't do this to me anymore."

Suddenly, Jake's entire demeanor changed. His shoulders stiffened, body tensing as his dark eyes flickered all around you.

"There's someone here," he breathed on your ear, finally, officially removing his hand from your throat.

"It's a club - there are tons of people here - "

He shushed you, releasing your arms from over your head, pushing your shoulders up against the wall instead.

"Shit," he hissed. "They're here for me." His boss was apparently tired of waiting.

His eyes found yours. "I'm Jake." Wetting his lips, his eyes flickered down to your throat and back. "I'm...obviously I'm not going to kill you."

Reaching for your thigh, he patted the gun you had stashed there. "This loaded?"

"Y-yes," you stammered, reeling from...everything.

"Good. I'm going to lead them out of here," he explained. "They're after me because I haven't finished the job." He locked gazes with you again. "So they might be here for you too."

"Nice to meet you, Jake," you huffed with a slight pout, your usual fire extinguished by the emotional whiplash of the evening. "You're just a ray of fucking sunshine. Been a real pleasure."

Before he could fire back a protest, you grabbed his jacket and pulled him close. "My bodyguards are right behind you. You really are off your game."

Then you kissed him, hard. He tried to pry himself free, to assess the danger, but the heat of your tongue and the tangle of your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck made him forget this entire shit storm for a few heavenly moments - the taste of you more delicious than he could ever have imagined. You sucked his tongue so hard he almost lost his balance.

He finally broke the kiss, eyes darting wildly, trying to get his bearings.

"Kiss me again," you commanded. "My bodyguards think we're hooking up. They won't fuck with me, trust me."

Jake's chest heaved with desire and trepidation. His boss had definitely dispatched two men that Jake had spotted so far. "I'm not worried about those idiots. We have a much bigger problem."

"Where?" You gasped, your hands twisting hopelessly in his jacket, holding onto him as if you were afraid he would vanish again, leaving you afraid and weirdly sexually frustrated.

"My nine o'clock and eleven. Don't look."

You chewed on your lip, resisting the urge to do just that.

"Trade places with me," you ordered, "up against the wall. Let me hide you."

"It won't work - "

"Turn the fuck around, Jake," you commanded, your eyes flashing. "I don't think they've spotted you yet or we would be dead already." Jake quickly traded places with you, pushing his back up against the wall and dipping his knees as you practically climbed him.

A rush of air passed his parted lips as you pressed your breasts against his chest, draping yourself over him. "Trust me - they won't be looking at you - not while I'm wearing this dress."

You shifted your hips until you could feel his hard cock press against your core, right where it felt so good. If you were in this world of shit because of Jake, you might as well enjoy it.

"Now make them believe there's nothing to see here but my ass," you breathed on his ear, barely finishing your sentence before his gloved hands gripped your backside, pushing you down over his length as his mouth fused with yours.

Fuck. The seam of his pants caught on your clit, through the flimsy material of your lace thong. The roughness of the lace only added to the sensation, sending sparks of pleasure up and down your spine.

And his mouth, god. His lips were as soft as you imagined - predictably demanding, and the stubble of his chin scraped and tickled you deliciously. His tongue rolled hot in your mouth, luring you into a salacious tangle of breathing and sucking and tasting.

The rhythm your bodies shared on the dance floor quickly returned - two moving as one in a wild, writhing tangle.

Sucking his tongue, you moaned into his mouth, rubbing your clit over the outline of his tip with increasing vigor, fingers tangled hopelessly in his curls.

Jake could feel you chasing your orgasm - he knew he could make you come like this, but you might not understand the reality of how much danger lurked around you both.

He couldn't kill you now. He realized, as he tilted his head and flexed his forearms along the curve of your back - he didn't even want to kill you - not even for revenge. Not to hurt your father back or avenge his brother.

And not just to fuck you either. A fire burned in you - something rare and wild and beautiful and he didn't want to be the one to extinguish it. He understood now that he couldn't accept anyone else hurting you either.

You panted his name, tugging hard on his hair, your heated breath temptingly falling on his throat.

"I got you baby," he found himself murmuring. "You gonna come for me like this?"

"Fuck you," you gasped, but he heard no venom in your curse as your mouth sought his again.

His protective and survival instincts clawed through the hazy fog of lust, prompting him to tear his mouth away, touching his forehead to yours as your wild panting tickled his lips.

"They'll kill you," he gasped, pulling you into something of a protective hug. "They're not like me. They won't miss. They won't stop. We have to go. Now."

Shaking yourself out of your near-orgasmic state of bliss, you gripped his jacket once more, trying to think clearly.

"Isn't that what you want, Jake?" You asked him seriously. "For me to die? To hurt my father?"

You pushed hard on his chest, but he trapped your hands.

"Listen to me," he hissed. But he paused, swallowing hard as he regarded you, as if for the final time. "I'm going to lead them out of here - "

"Jake - "

"Use your weapon if you need to." He nodded over your shoulder. "Your closest bodyguard is maybe ten paces on your six. Walk straight to him and get out of here. Call your father."

"Jake, you can't - "

His mouth crashed into yours desperately, tasting your lips one at a time before he licked into your mouth hotly, folding you against his chest with one arm. His free hand gripped your jaw as he kissed you for one more indulgent moment.

Easing back, he stared deeply into your eyes before using his teeth to pull his glove off. He pushed it against your chest.

"Something to remember me by...or maybe play with." He managed a wink before brushing his fingertips over your lips.

You realized then that he'd never really touched you before - not without gloves on.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he went on caressing your face - your chin, your jawline - raking his fingers over the curve of your cheek. "Now go. Don't get hurt because of me."

He tried to push you away, but you clung to him. "Jake...will I see you again?" You asked with trembling lips, your eyes darting over the handsome contours of his face.

He shook his head. "Not unless you want me to finish the job."

"You asshole," you seethed, gripping his glove in your hand before shrugging one shoulder, trying to pretend you didn't care. "At least I got a new toy out of it. Good luck not getting yourself killed."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked straight to your bodyguard, and away from the inept assassin named Jake.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake woke up in a warehouse on the south side of the city.

The night had started out well enough - getting to see you again - to touch you, kiss you...

But had turned bloody. Deadly. Apparently.

Jake hissed, feeling haphazard stitching feebly holding together the gash on his side, attempting to get a good look through his brand new black eye.

"Fuck," he hissed, realizing he'd missed a few hours. He blacked out after he left the club. And woke up here.

An empty beer bottle sat nearby - along with various other bits of trash from whoever partied or slept here last.

Jake noticed his reflection in the glass.

"I would've taken care of it," he offered up a protest to anyone who might be listening.

But he knew why his deadly alter fronted. It was them or him. Or you. They were after you as well, and it was his fault.

His sluggish mind finally registered what might have happened while he was absent from the body.

Jake grabbed the beer bottle, barking an accusation at his dim, distorted reflection. "Did you hurt her?"

Shit. Marc Spector did not fuck around. If you were a mark, he would finish the job if he thought the body was in real danger. He didn't come around often, not nearly as often as Steven, but he was probably the reason Jake was still alive after all these years.

"Answer me, Marc. Is she alive?"

Marc didn't answer. He never answered. He protected.

Jake should have sliced your throat the first time he grabbed you in that park. Saved himself the trouble.

No one was worth all this shit.

But if that were true, why was he panicking? He had to know.

So he would try to see you one more time. Then he would surrender the body to Steven and let him live in London like he wanted.

next

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake Lockley-Centric stories

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[yandere-chocolate]

A concept has been scuttling around in my head. A reader who is PETRIFIED of storms and their roommate Macaque who can't sleep listening to their whining. Desperately need a comfort fic TwT

I'll take a shot at it!

--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡-

Macaque didn't necessarily need to sleep, but he liked to. It was a great stress relief, and he needed that after living as long as he has. He drifted off to sleep one night until he was awoken by your screams. I leapt out of bed and slipped into the shadows. It was a demon, for sure, and he was going to make whoever was trying to hurt you pay dearly for even thinking about it.

As Macaque moved from the shadows and into your room, he was confused. No demons anywhere, but you were shivering. It was a trick, it had to be.

"Hey kid," he spoke, "what's wrong?" Macaque asked, swiftly moving to your side and wrapping an arm around you protectively. To say he was confused when you told him it was a severe fear of thunderstorms was a bit of an understatement. The demon had been beaten, betrayed, ripped to shreds, and even enslaved, so he did not understand how anything could fear simple thunder. But you were only human, and he had to remember that.

"Hey, it's just thunder, kid... nothin' to be afraid of." This didn't work, of course, it just invalidated your feelings, but he still couldn't understand. But he wanted to help.

"Look, how about I keep you nice and warm and safe tonight, okay sunshine?" He teased, collecting you in his arms as best he could. The demon snuggled up to you in the bed and heard your fearful whimpers as thunder wracked the sky and rain pounded against the window. His tail curled up around your leg, "Don't worry. I'll protect you. I love you."

It wasn't common for Macaque to say such a thing, but it warmed your heart just a little bit to have this demonic simian protectively around you, almost as if shielding you for the storm.

--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡-

[crimeronan]

Ok wait BUT, we know it's possible to remotely enter someone's mind scape. So what if Luz let's Camilla and Vee run hunter off cause she doesn't remember him. So Hunter decides to (SOMEHOW) drag Darius into fixing her mind. Darius brings raine along, and it's like the worst version of them figuring out if she would have been an Evil Empress.

Hunter desperately trying to fix luz which would REQUIRE him to see all the grimwalker shit. Raine thinking they fucked up so bad to not see this all. Everyone is bitching with everyone else.

"Little prince are you all right?"

"I'm so good rn Darius. I'm a zombie clone but also luz Knows, and that means she remembers me, so everything is great hahahahaa"

But they fix it all, right? Hunter is having a breakdown, but they got all the memories in place.

And then Luz wakes up next to Vee, and she is freaking out!!!!! She sent HER BOY away!

hunter is like darius, if you don't help me, i'm going to find a way to do it myself. and her inner self probably won't be too fond of me, given what i saw. i don't know exactly what belos did to her, but she was scared of me, so i know he did SOMETHING. you KNOW she'd never be afraid of me

& darius, who has been dealing with the fact that hunter managed to sneak past all his security to go get himself killed by belos, is like for fuck's sake. you really will, won't you.

fine. Fine.

raine gets roped in because they're good with luz & hunter trusts them implicitly. so they're on official Keep The Inner Luz Calm duties.

also, luz's two-tiered mindscape.... she has all her (now incomplete/jumbled/confused) grimwalker memories on the surface. all her memories of when she pretended to be an unfeeling little tyrant to please belos. so even when they put the pieces back together, hunter is STILL like no. something's wrong. these can't be right, that's not.... that's not LUZ.

while darius is trying to be gentle about "that IS luz." except, yknow. darius doesn't have a gentle bone in his body. so he's just like welp. sucks to see her true self. she's probably better off left in the human realm, huh??

meanwhile raine is the one to be like no... this doesn't feel right to me either. this doesn't account for any of what i know about luz.

if and when the inner luz shows up, i think she'd solve this for them.... she can SEE that something is wrong with her memories, she's soot-stained with unhealing burn injuries and she keeps coughing and she needs Help. she'll take whatever help she can get. she'll lead them to the lower levels and the "real" luz memories. and everything down there is a blackened wasteland -- all her wild magic, all her childhood memories, all her love for hunter.

and that's worse for hunter than even fixing the grimwalker memories was. seeing just how devastated her mindscape is, just how damaged and in pain her inner self is....

and then yeah. luz wakes up healed in the real world & is immediately Frantic. more frantic than vee or camila have ever seen her. running out of the house, out into the street, not bothering to watch for cars. stumbling over her own feet. calling hunter's name. screaming at both vee And camila when they try to calm her down and get her to come inside.

ough. Ough.

babies....

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you have any recs where Derek is absolutely in love with stiles but, stiles is completely oblivious? If you know any other fics like that but a different ship I'll take those too!

Yeeeesss!

Hindsight (Ok yeah, it all makes sense now) by Eternalsterek24

(1/1 I 3,269 I Teen)

In hindsight, Stiles should have recognized that the pack was keeping something from him. The problem, though, was that when you have weird friends, you don’t think anything of it when they act weird. 

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by stilinskisparkles 

(1/1 I 14,968 I Teen)

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

(5/5 I 35,458 I Mature)

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

To Build a Pack by Arieanna

(9/? I 53,294 I Mature)

Derek feels a pull in his chest, and it's a pack bond to Stiles. He thought the young man had betrayed him along with Scott, but finding out the truth, he makes Stiles a part of his pack. Now, with the pack coming together in a healthy way, they help Stiles discover that he's not just a sidekick, but a major player, and more important than Scott had ever given him credit for.

The more Derek pulls Stiles into the pack as his second, though, the harder it is to ignore the feelings that he's been having for the boy since they met. Stiles, on the other hand, has fallen out of love with Lydia, and can't figure out just why that happen

All the Weird Kids (Know How to Take it Slow) by Ionaonie

(26/26 I 112,477 I General)

Stiles never thought being part of a werewolf Pack would end up being so normal. Even being around Derek had a degree of normality about it. Even if he was still an overbearing jerk most of the time.

run and hide by whiry

(36/36 I 174,966 I Teen)

"Unlike Derek, Stiles still remembers the first time they met. He remembers the confusion at the pull in his chest, tugging him to the boy with big ears and light eyes. He’d been in the grocery store with his mother and Derek with his, and they had all been minding their business, but Stiles had a niggling in the back of his head directing him toward Derek. And when their eyes met for the first time? Stiles’ heart about exploded. He remembers grabbing his chest and gasping and his mother running over and Derek’s mother running over. The boys didn’t even say anything, and poor Derek looked so confused, and Talia and Claudia simply looked at their boys, looked at each other, and immediately set up a time to meet. And that was how it started."

or, stiles and derek suck at being mates, a new threat comes to town, and stiles has to desperately try to save everything he's ever loved from total destruction all while trying to get through his sophomore year unscathed.

[dilxcc]

chapter eight

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, this chapter contained some suggestive stuff, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

a/n sorry if this chapter is short 😭 i promise the next chapter will have fluff (they might made up) ALSO I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS BOOK FJKHASJHDHA

previous chapter

the old satoru wouldn't believe it. he wouldn't believe the fact that he had kissed you and pulled away almost immediately, saying that it was a mistake.

he left you heartbroken despite you finally giving in to him. your hand was quick to catch his hand. "what do you mean this was a mistake?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "it was a mistake. you don't have to worry. it's not your fault," satoru explained quickly, not once turning around to meet your eyes.

the grip you had on his wrist loosened and he took it as a sign to leave. "yuuji is alive," was the last thing you heard from him.

.

you thought that after what he had said, he would act the way he had always act with you. but you were wrong. the thing that you're most afraid of had happened again. it had repeated it's history.

you could only push aside your personal feelings even when the two of you walked passed the hallway and act like a stranger. you were sure that fushiguro and kugisaki were confused as to why the satoru gojo hadn't been clinging onto you for the whole day just yet.

"miss, did you have a fight with gojo-sensei?" the girl asked. "you kids just focus on getting strong. this is nothing you have to worry yourselves about," you quickly brushed away her question.

you can't believe how in love you are to the point that you would cry every night before bed despite saying that you were fine to shoko. and if you're given a chance, you would like to at least slap his face once. just to let him know your pain.

.

satoru felt his heart clench at the sight of you. how it sped up every time you walked past him. how did you ever get more beautiful than before? or was it that you've always been this beautiful but it was just him who didn't realize it?

he regretted kissing you that day. it wasn't that he didn't enjoy it. hell, he wished he could kiss you forever. but he was afraid. the satoru gojo was afraid that he would be too greedy and only want you to himself. he was afraid that you might change your mind and that resulted in his heart breaking. was it really wrong that he was trying to protect his heart despite how badly his decisions hurt him?

the face you made when he said the kiss was a mistake - he didn't even have to look to know how much it had hurt you too. so why was he still running away? why was he so afraid of the love that you would gladly give him if he let you?

he snapped out of his train of thought, hands still shoved in his pocket as he walked into the pastry shop. every time he sets his eyes on a pastry, he thought to himself, would you like it if he bought you this?

satoru started walking mindlessly, going into multiple shops and coming out empty-handed. though at one particular shop, he went inside and stopped for once. it was the shop where the two of you used to hang out with suguru and shoko during high school. he smiled to himself, remembering how you, him and suguru would get in trouble for skipping school while shoko didn't join you because she for one, doesn't need any more trouble in her life.

his smile dropped once again and he left the store, walking mindlessly down the street again. his eyes landed on a flower shop and smiled slightly at how you reminded him of roses. how beautiful you are yet dangerous when not held carefully.

if he were to be born again after he died, he wished to not hurt you - to not make you cry and make you happy instead. he hoped that it wasn't too much of him to ask - that it wasn't selfish of him to ask for that.

.

"satoru, do you ever think of love?" you asked randomly, your eyes focused on the book you were reading. the white-haired male pretended to have pondered on your question. it was obvious to himself that he thinks of it every day, every hours, every minutes and every seconds. it was getting embarrassingly pathetic at how much he was thinking of you.

he had thought that you were a form of love in his eyes. "yeah. why do you ask?"

"well, i wondered if we're ever going to get married since we're..." you trailed off. "we're bound to die early," you smiled. "die early?" satoru scoffed. "you're not going to die early. i'm here," he said. it was short and simple. but his words put your heart at ease. "and i will be seeing you get married," he smirked.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "no way. you'll ruin my wedding," you said playfully, nudging his side. "i'll let you ruin mine," he smiled softly. "what's this? the satoru gojo is thinking about marriage?" you said in a teasing tone, your eyebrows slightly raised at the revelation. he shrugged his shoulder, brushing away your teasings. "everyone thought about it at one point, i'm sure,"

"then if you ever have any kids, i will make sure to tell them how uncool you actually are," you stuck out your tongue at him mischievously. 

a single tear managed to slip down his cheek. he was surprised. he hadn't shed a single tear ever since the death of his dear best friend. it spoke volumes at how much you meant to him. 

he quickly wipes away his tears, clearing his throat before letting his feet wander on their own. 

taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra

masterlist

[lokotrona11]

So you're leaving

Pairing : Peter Pevensie x Reader

summary : Love is gone?

gender: Sad, broken heart

Word count : 800 I think

AN : I hated the ending, I wanted it to be even more devastating and I messed it up, sorry.

This is not pre-corrected and remember that my language is not English, I hope it does not have spelling or writing mistakes.

The gif is not mine!

-------

Peter was having a bad time, a very bad time.

His campaigns had the expected result, he was conquering lands and a very good king, his people loved and respected him, his great heart, intelligence and courage were reflected in each public display.

His brothers had a perfect life and health, they were happy.

He did not suffer from poverty or anything like that.

But even with all that, his heart suffered. Why?

Because his beloved no longer loved him, or so he felt.

Peter had been dating her for two years, and he was beginning to feel a lack of interest from her.

She had always been affectionate and her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, but now he didn't feel it anymore, there was no sparkle in her face.

Peter felt knives pierce his heart when he took his girlfriend's hand and she gently let go, using the excuse of being busy.

He felt his chest tighten when he left for a long campaign, and as a farewell he only received a kiss on the corner of his lip.

He lived like a madman for fear of not being the only man in her life.

"Love?" He looked for her in their shared room.

"Come in, Peter," he heard his girlfriend's voice.

"What are you doing?" He said as he walked in and saw her sitting at the wooden desk.

She didn't take her eyes off that remote place, so insignificant but now strangely mesmerizing.

"Nothing, I just think."

"In What?" He asked, afraid of the answer.

"In us..." I leave a bitter silence.

"What about us?"

"Do you still love me, Peter?" Ask now looking at him.

Peter felt his heart beating at an unimaginable speed, his beloved's eyes were so deep that they stabbed into his insides. "Yes."

"I don't know if I still love you."

Nothing, Peter didn't say anything.

What can you say when you're no longer loved?

"Peter, listen to me..." He began to ramble. "I still care about you, a lot, but I think the love is fading away, can't you feel it?"

The king's insides were shattered, his soul ached and he felt as if tons of stones were falling on his body, crushing him, because of course he felt it. A tear fell.

"I don't know if love has gone away... If that's what you mean," he said dryly, struggling to speak clearly.

She stood up, moving closer. "Peter... It's not the same anymore."

"For you." He said sharply.

"Peter.."

"I can wait for you, for you to fall in love with me again." He heart was desperate.

"I love you and I can understand your confusion." He took her face in his hands.

"That's why don't leave me, I need you.." he begged, pressing their foreheads together.

She took the king's hands and gently pulled away. "I don't deserve to be waited on.. because you don't deserve to have to wait."

The blond's eyes never left the woman he loved, burning her.

"You deserve a love that loves you for life, without conditions and time, and I am not that person Peter.."

"I don't care, I love you." He tried to get closer again but she didn't allow it.

"Peter, that's enough." She pulled away at once. "I'm sorry, but I can't love you, my heart won't let me."

"So you're leaving me?"He nodded.

"This is over."

"What? You're just going to tell me that? You're just going to leave?" I accused.

"I've already told you everything."

"Are you in love with someone else?" The thought alone gave her stomach ache.

"No Peter, there is no other."

"Are you sure? And Caspian?" He raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with Caspian?"

"Do you like him?"

"No!" she said quickly. "We're not even friends."

Peter's legs were weakening. "So what do you need to do to stay? What do I need to change? I swear, I'll do anything."

She quickly shook her head. “No, Peter, you don’t have to change anything. You are perfect like this, the problem here is me.”

"If I don't need anything else, why do you stop loving me?"

Tears flowed uncontrollably from her eyes, it was the first time she cried like that in front of someone other than her family.

"Because I need to change, pet."

Peter sighed, giving up. What else could he do? "So you're leaving me?"

"Yes." She walked to the bedroom door, and before opening it she looked at him.

"Thank you for everything.. and sorry."

Peter didn't answer and waited until he heard the door close before falling onto the bed, his heart broken, his chest aching, and all the love in his hands.

What was he supposed to do now with all this pain? How was he supposed to rule a Kingdom with his heart broken because of his queen?

.

[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode:

--The episode in which Kamado Tanjiro tries and fails to be a supporting character

--And he tried really, really hard too! After all, Genya is his friend (according to one of the two parties involved), and now he understands his dream. I do kind of wish they had a moment when Genya could explain, "I want to be a Pillar because only Pillars can meet Pillars" so that Tanjiro can reply, "No you don't, you just have to be in trouble! Here, Nezuko and I will help you stage doing something bad!"

--Genya makes the best confused noises--as well as the best desperation noises. But the way his confusion is so abject that it slows down the whole pace of a tense episode so we can truly feel the way the gears in his brain (which pounds super fast with how powered he is by adrenaline) is great, and it's even better how many times that happens in the span of a few minutes.

--Still, the difference between Tanjiro and Genya, when it comes to capability in battle, is palpable. Genya is not incapable--not by a long shot!!--and has earned this rank in the Corp by doing a whole lot more than eating demons. He isn't afraid of hard work, and his isn't willing to give up, but he is not as adept at analyzing a fight and fight and adapting on the fly. He is a throw-everything-got-and-then-keep-throwing-anyway kind of fighter who wins based on his own gumption, but being so driven by that heightened emotion has its limits.

--And what's key to Genya's character is that he knows it. While Himejima has surely had a good influence on his temper, but Genya accomplished character growth in a matter of minutes which Inosuke took more time to begrudgingly sort of figure out. In this episode we see Genya go from "I'm going to be a Pillar (and I hate you)" to "I can't do it. I'm leaving it to you." Way to be a bigger person, Genya!

--I wish we knew how old Genya and Sanemi were in that flashback. In order for Sanemi to have had enough time to go through Wind Breath training, climb the ranks, and becoming a Pillar colleague to Kanae, this was at the very least six years ago. What was Genya doing all that time before he entered the Final Selection?

--Also, I love Genya's maturity so much in recognizing that if Sekido kills him there, he'll leave Sanemi with those hurtful last words exchanged between them, whereas Genya's gets to comfort himself by seeing Sanemi's kindness and smile as the last thing in his life flashing before his eyes. Only a kind person would find that unfair.

--Remember how this episode aired, like, on Mother's Day? Yeah. Yeah.

--This....... flashback, man. It was done good but that's why I'm sad.

--One some other notes: Tanjiro's swords still glows hot red, he pulls the mark back on with ease and the effect is noticeable, and in that chase scene with Hantengu, I love how we see his expression change and adapt as the situation changes. I also love how among all his ongoing analysis of Hantengu and his weak points and how to avoid being overtaken by the Ki-Do-Ai-Raku attacks and how to locate the true body and catch up to him, he has not bothered to analyze what's going on with Genya whatsoever. It's a non-issue.

--Little Nezuko wave after "don't kill my sister, btw," ily.

--Skimper-skampering little Hantengu is still something I find very, very funny.

[sinsandsweetness]

Desperate (sex and zombies- chapter 14)

pairing- {Daryl x fem!reader}

summary- You find yourself needing a helping hand.

warning- 18+ content, immediate smut, no plot just absolute filth, humiliation, dirty talk, fingering, slight crybaby reader?

notes- If you are here for the overall plot, this scene would be placed back in the prison, before things actually pick up with Rick. During the week while they are ignoring each other because he lost it on her.

*For that sweet anon who wanted another Daryl chapter; I assumed you liked 'transient' because of his attitude and dirty talk, so I tried to keep that in. Let me know if this satisfied your needs <3

You laid there, shaking and whimpering like a little bitch. Overaware of your own sounds, covered in a light sheen of sweat, with the sheets kicked to the edge of the bed. Hand in your shorts, and fingers stuffed up your cunt as far as you could manage. It wasn't enough. You'd been at it for an hour at least. Breathing all heavy and fucking your own hand, trying to find some kind of relief in the heat of the non air conditioned prison. Sexually frustrated from... well everything really. Rick mostly. Him losing it on you. You were avoiding him like the plague, afraid to make him any more mad. Afraid that he'd hold a grudge, and that you'd never even have a shot with him. As silly as it sounded, it is what you'd wanted from the start, so you really didn't want to fuck up your chances now.

You picked up your pace, bucking your hips further onto the three digits you'd managed to fit in your sopping wet pussy. A pool of slick had already dampened the sheets below, proving just how desperate you were to finish. Fuck. Why can't you finish? It's not like you'd never touched yourself before. You knew your own body. Right?

You were just stressed. At least that's what you figured. Stressed from the farm, and being on the road, and then the prison. Everything that had happened since arriving. It was really dampening your mood. 

You let out a frustrated cry and bit your lip hard, trying to contain your emotions, still finger fucking yourself as fast as you were able to, but every time you thought you were close, it would just disappear. A salty tear slipped down the side of your face. Oh my god. How pathetic are you? You can't even make your own self c-

"Hey- Oh shit." 

You ripped your hand out of your shorts and immediately went for the sheets, pulling them up to cover your embarrassment.

"What the fuck Daryl, have you never heard of knocking?!"

"Sorry I didn't know you were- I thought you had a headache..." Daryl stood, rather awkwardly right at the entrance of your cell. The curtain swaying slightly from where he'd just interrupted your, not so peaceful, privacy.

"I did-" you took a deep breath. You actually did, a few hours ago. And then you woke up feeling much better and weirdly aroused from some dream you couldn't quite remember. So you thought, what better time then to rub one out while no-one would bother you. 

Your whole face was on fire, the humiliation of the situation setting in completely. "Just get out please." You covered your eyes with your hands and the sheet, attempting to shield your entire self from his gaze. No way were you coming now.

"Were you- uh, were you touchin' yourself?" His mouth was curled into a funny little smirk.

"Get. Out. " You said through your teeth, this time looking up at him, giving your absolute best death glare. 

He stepped closer, confusion forming on his brows.

"Were you crying? " He asked, taking a couple steps closer, making your whole body burn bright red. Ohmygod just leave already. 

"No." You quickly wiped away the wetness on you cheek.

"Well it looks like you were crying."

"I just- can you get the hell out please. Fuckin' seriously." 

"Hey," his face softened at your tone. "I'm not tryna be mean okay. I was just checking up on you. Thought I'd bring you some water." He waved the bottle in the air, the sound of the liquid splashing around inside the plastic.

You didn't answer, instead just trying to focus on your heart rate that wouldn't calm the hell down. 

"Why were you crying?" He asked, really sincere this time. 

"I can't-" you sighed again. Pulling your knees up and burying face as you admitted the reason. "I can't finish. It's- I don't know, it's like I'm broken or something."

"You're not broken," He sat on the edge of the bed, a hint of amusement in his voice. He was way too close for comfort, and the fact that your sleep shorts were soaked through with your own wetness didn't help. "You're propably just stressed. A lot's been happening."

You nodded into your knee, not caring to make eye contact with the man. You'd asked him to leave a million times already and he clearly wasn't listening.

"You want some help?" He offered, hand coming up to your calf, gently squeezing it. 

You scoffed an almost laugh. "Um no. I want you to leave."

"You uh... You sure?" His eyes travelled down to the wet spot on the bed, which you quickly moved to cover with your leg.

"Daryl I swear to fucking god-"

"Hey-" he moved forward, hands on your legs, pushing them apart and leaning in to you. "Relax. You've helped me out once or twice, c'mon. Let me. Last I checked, you can finish with me... Unless you've been fakin' it or somethin'..." 

"Ugh." You fell back in frustration, head hitting the cushiony pillow below. "You don't get it. I've been trying for an hour and it just like..." You tried to come up with how to describe it. "Like it's never enough, I get so close and then it just... it hurts." 

"So you gave yourself blue balls?"

What a freakin' boy. "Yeah, I guess if that's what you wanna call it." You rolled your eyes, propping yourself up on elbows, seeing him in between your legs. A patient look on his face. His bulging muscles extra apparent in his tight black long sleeve. Jesus Christ he was just making it worse.

"Try again." He suggested.

"I've been trying Daryl. It's not fuckin' working."

"Just," he grabbed your hand, and positioned at your core. "Let me see. Try again. Touch yourself."

The second the words left his mouth you felt a jolt in your pelvic muscles. His energy shifted from playful to possessive. 

"I don't really-"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." He counter argued. True. Though it felt different. More... intimate. Being on display wasn't really your thing.

"C'mhere." He tugged at your legs, pulling you down the bed and settling himself on the other end, one leg crossed under himself as the other hung over the tiny mattress, foot planted on the ground. "Take your shorts off."

You still felt the pink on your cheeks but the thought of actually finishing did help tame some of the embarrassment. You shimmied out of the shorts, tossing them to the ground. 

"Shirt too."

"Daryl-" You warned. He was pushing boundaries for sure. 

"Take the shirt off." His eyes were dark and you couldn't help but stare at the very prominent outline pulling at the denim of his jeans. 

You swallowed hard and took the top off in one fluid motion, nipples immediately forming little peaks on your supple breasts. He licked his lips, hands twitching, ready to touch you, but holding back. Situating himself even further into the mattress. 

"Well go on, show me what you were doin' before I walked in here."

You shook your head at him. 

"Do it. Or I won't touch you at all. Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave you here all hot and bothered? Or do you wanna come?"

"I wanna come." You whispered. So quiet it was a shock he even heard.

"Then go on. Show me." 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back. Trying to escape into the marshmallowy mattress. And despite your reluctance, your fingers trailed down your stomach and reached your clit. Rubbing it a few times and falling on a circular pattern. Breath steadily moving your chest up and down, as you went to grab at your nipple with your other hand. Pinching it a little, trying to emulate what Daryl often liked to do to you.

"That's sure hot n' all, but it definitely ain't what you were doin' when I walked in."

You let out an unintentional sound at the thought of him watching. The thought of him being turned on by you touching yourself. You moved your hand even lower, middle finger dragging through your wetness and back up, spreading it onto your clit. Then dipping down again and inserting one digit. You swore you could hear Daryls breath hitch. You continued pumping in and out and soon added another finger.

"Look so pretty like this, all wet and needy." He said, his own hand finally making its way to your leg. Pushing you open so he could see you even better. "How's it feel?"

"Uh- It- It's ok," You grunted out, curling your fingers towards yourself, trying to focus on the end goal and not the way he was staring right into you.

"Relax your shoulders." He demanded, shifting around on the bed. "And breath." You did as he said, not realizing how tense you were. You stayed there with your eyes closed and your mind started drifting to thoughts about his own fingers instead. 

"I don't think it's working Daryl." You huffed as you slipped your fingers out, rubbing them both on your clit from side to side.

"It's workin' for me." He quipped. A hand now on your thigh, squeezing down on the muscle of your quad. 

Another tear escaped your eye with a shaky breath. What the actual fuck was wrong with you. 

"Aw baby, don't cry." He leaned over you, an adorable smirk plastered on his face, as he wiped the frustrated tear from your face. "Why don't you keep rubbing and I'll try and help you out, okay? I ain't gonna leave you here like this alright?" 

You nodded pathetically up at him. His dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped down and placed a sweet kiss on your belly.

"Don't you fuckin' tease me Dixon I swear-" 

"-to fucking god, yeah, I know." He kissed downwards once more, closer to where your hands had come to a stop, right above your clit. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You whimpered. Absolutely aching for his beautiful eight inches to be filling up your cunt, destroying your cervix and making you cream all over him and those jeans he always kept half way on.

You kept rubbing fast circles onto your puffy nub. His own hand moved to your slit, startling you a little, at first. But as soon as he had three fingers, knuckle deep and fucking right into your sweet spot, you could barely form a cohesive thought. Just Him. His pretty blue eyes, his biceps flexing as he worked you into a writhing mess. His deep southern voice whispering a plethora of dirty little comments. One in particular, telling you to shut the fuck up before Rick walked in and caught you being a desperate little slut. It was working. Whatever he was doing was clearly working, because you could feel the extremely overdue orgasm starting to build. The familiar feeling of a knot forming in your stomach. Ready to unravel. 

"How are you so good at that?" You asked him through laboured breaths, involuntarily fucking yourself onto his hand. Not that he minded. His eyes were glossed over and locked in on what he was trying, and very much succeeding at doing. 

"You gonna come for me baby?" He ignored your question.

"Yeah I'm - Yes. yes." You would. At that pace you definitely would. He moved your hand out of the way and dipped down, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to your clit. He huffed out a laugh against you at your reaction. Tightening around his fingers and letting out the most pathetic sob he'd heard all day. The vibration of his laugh sending you into orbit. He sucked on your clit as he curled his fingers, physically pulling the orgasm right out of you. Your head shot up off the mattress and your hands went right to his hair, keeping him held down, "Don't stop, Don't stop-" You moaned, feeling your core shake as you finally climaxed. The orgasm itself lasting a record breaking amount of time, until the tongue on your pussy was just too much and he pulled his fingers out, glistening white with your cum. 

"Think you made a little mess sunshine." He said, licking clean each of his fingers. The sight making your stomach do a backflip. You could feel the rest of your cum on the sheets below, all wet and gooey. You could already go again. Actually you needed to. Even though you had finally finished, you wanted him. To feel every thick inch of him fucking you into another mind blowing orgasm.

"You got one more in there for me?" He asked, as if reading your mind. Leaning himself back up and starting at his belt.

"Yes daddy." You clamped both hands onto your mouth. Why the fuck would you say that? His eyes got all big as he grinned at your response. 

He chuckled, "Y'know I won't make fun of you for that today, with you cryin' and all, but I hope you know I won’t forget that." 

You groaned. Knowing it would come back to bite you in the ass. "Please can we just-"

"I got it." He pushed you back down, settling between your legs. His cock seeming a lot more intimidating than you previously remembered. Standing proud in his hand as he jerked himself a few times, aligning himself between your legs. He pushed himself in, throwing his head back as he grunted. The pressure making you both moan.

"So fuckin' wet for me aren't you?"

"Yes, all for you Daryl, so fuckin' wet..." you trailed off, eyes rolling back into your skull. He fucked you hard and slow, drawing it out nice and long. He was so used to quickies in a car or in the basement of an abandoned house, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to actually fuck someone. To really experience it. And was he ever experiencing it. His pupils completely blown, watching you squirm on his cock. His shirt pushed half up his abdomen, hands gripping your thighs and positioning them wherever he wanted. As soon as he had them up and over his shoulders, that tight, burning sensation hit the sides of your nose, forcing a few more tears out of your pretty doe eyes. Out of pure pleasure this time instead of pain.

Eventually he moved both your legs to the side, contorting you into a twisted mess of sobs. Grabbing your face and forcing you to watch his pelvis slam against your asscheeks over and over. That's it. With the grip on your jaw, and his cock buried deep, you let out a raspy moan, tugging on the comforter until your knuckles were white, signalling you reaching your climax. You didn't even have to let him know. You let the feeling wash through your core as he fucked you through it. He pulled out quickly and shot thick white ropes onto your skin and the sheets below. Too far gone to care that you'd need a shower, even though you'd already taken one that morning.

"Fuck." You whispered, as he collapsed down next to you, pulling his boxers back up.

"Yeah..." He was out of breath, Just laying next to you, hand moving to tickle a pattern onto your knee. You grabbed the sheets, pulling them up and wiping off.

"Hand me that sweater, will you?"

He grabbed the oversized sweater off the ground, handing it to you, you slipped it over your head and climbed halfway over him, reaching into your bag and grabbing some clean boy shorts, slipping them on as well. Then collapsing right back next to Daryl. To rest your shaky legs.

"I told you, you aren't broken." He tickled your thigh, biting back a laugh as you smacked his shoulder. 

"God you're such an asshole." You chuckled along with him. 

"What's that baby? You think daddy's actin' like an asshole?'

Your smile dropped and you could almost feel the tears forming again. "You promised..."  He'd already forced a few too many emotions out of you for the day. You just didn't have it in you to take the jokes at your expense anymore.

"I'm sorry!" He put his hands up in surrender. "Seriously!" He smiled sweetly at you. You let him take your hand, pulling you up off the bed. "C'mon, let's go get you washed up. They're probably making' supper right now."

The entire time you ate, he kept grazing the bare skin of your thighs, toying with the hem of your sweater and glancing at you through his peripheral. It was a miracle that no one asked why you were blushing so hard.

[frickingnerd]

let me love you (until you learn to love yourself)

pairing: shinjiro aragaki x gn!reader

summary: awaking from a coma, you find shinjiro at your side, blaming himself for what happened to you. but your words manage to get through to him and offer some comfort…

tags: angst to fluff / angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, hand kisses, gentle & soft!shinjiro, romantic/platonic relationship

a/n: fighting the feminine urge to put in a plot twist that the reader was dead all along and shinjiro is just hallucinating to cope (I DIDN'T DO IT, I SWEAR! THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!!)

“please… wake up again, please!”

a quiet voice echoed through your dreams. it sounded distant at first, but with each passing moment, it seemed to be getting closer. clearer. louder.

“you have to wake up again…!”

you felt someone squeeze your hand. at first, you could barely feel it. but as you seemed to slowly wake up, you could feel someone desperately clinging to you. as if they were afraid you'd slip away, if they didn't hold you tight.

“mmhh…?”

you opened your eyes, only to quickly shut them again, when you were blinded by the cold light of the room. the light gave your headache and you were barely even awake! still, you blinked twice, trying to open your eyes again. and that's when you spotted the person sitting next to you on what seemed to be a hospital bed.

“s-shinji…?”

the boy's head hung low and he had been mumbling to himself, before you woke up. when he heard your voice, his head shot up and in the blink of an eye, he had pulled you into a tight hug. you winced in pain, your entire body hurting. but shinjiro barely even noticed, as he began talking.

“i'm so sorry, this is all my fault! i wish i would've never left you alone! if… if i knew this would happen, i would've never left you alone!”

you gently wrapped your arms around shinjiro. he was clearly distressed, but you couldn't quite remember why. you knew there was something you were forgetting, but with all the painkillers in your body, you struggled to think straight and remember what had happened to make you end up here.

“it's okay… i am okay, shinji!”

you weren't quite sure if you were alright. but you were still alive! so it couldn't be that bad, right?

“n-no, you…”

shinjiro only clung to you more. he gripped the cloth of your shirt with his fists, desperately holding onto you. and then, you felt his tears dripping onto your clothes.

“this is all my fault… if i had never left you alone – if i had never left S.E.E.S., then i would've been there to help! you never would've gotten hurt, if i was there. i would've protected you, but– but i wasn't there. god, why did i leave? why did i leave you alone, risking your life like that…?”

shinjiro's sorrow turned into anger.

as you pulled away from him, you could see his furrowed brow and that look of self hatred in his eyes. it wasn't the first time he looked like that. that october night, when he lost control of his persona. he had that same look in his eyes that night…

“this wasn't your fault…”

you gently brought a hand to his cheek, wiping away his tears. shinjiro looked at you surprised, but then his eyes reverted back to that look. he was in utter disbelief how you could show a monster like him such kindness.

“you have to stop blaming yourself, shinjiro. none of this was your fault. you're a good guy…”

shinjiro couldn't accept your words. he softly shook his head, before turning away. your hand that had been resting on his cheeks slowly sunk.

“i– i can't forgive myself. no matter how often you say that it wasn't my fault… i don't think i could ever forgive myself…”

you hadn't seen shinjiro this honest before. you knew that he lived with regret and guilt, but he had never admitted to it this openly before.

“if you can't let go of the past… then make sure that this past won't become your future”

shinjiro turned back to face you, confusion written on his face.

“if you keep isolating yourself, you'll just pile up more and more regrets. like being unable to save me…”

shinjiro seemed to be listening to you now, so you brought a hand back to his cheek, gently caressing it. instead of pulling away, he melted into your touch, closing his eyes and leaning against your hand.

“isolating yourself won't stop bad things from happening. it'll only stop you from preventing them! you can't do everything on your own. so, please… let us help you. together, we can make sure you'll never have any regrets again! let us carry your burden, shinjiro…”

your words finally seemed to have reached shinjiro. his face softened and tears began to roll down his cheeks. only this time, he began to smile softly, as he wiped them away.

“you're right. thank you…”

shinjiro softly held your hand, pressing a gentle kiss onto it, before looking at you again. and this time without that pained look in his eyes. this time, his eyes were brimming with fondness and affection.

“thank you, for saving me from myself. if it wasn't for you, i'd never allow myself to be happy again…”

[dixbolik-lovers]

Ooh, could I ask for some Pet AU (mixed with ABO “everybody is an Omega” AU) headcanons with the Sakamaki brothers getting purchased as a bed-warmer type for a powerful & rich Alpha?

The boys expect to be treated badly, “used” immediately, and then thrown away, but the Alpha gives them their own private room and various items the Alpha somehow knows they favor and tells them that “Even if the boys are who Readers going to take to bed whenever he’s in rut, Reader isn’t going to be cruel to them, and will treat them like he would if they were Readers actual mate.” and “That they are free to ask for anything they want/need, with their only obligations being attending dinner with Reader once a week and spending time with Reader during his rut to satisfy Readers instincts” (And reader means that in a perfectly pure way, as they later learn when Reader calmly reads a book with them while he has their head resting innocently on his lap, perfectly satisfied)

Shuu

He's absolutely expecting the worst, whatever that may mean. Shuu does not have high hopes for how he'll be treated in this home, but it's not like there's anything he can do about it. Thus, it's better to just keep his mouth shut and try not to make trouble for himself. It definitely comes as a surprise when you treat him so gently, though— he has no idea how to respond, especially when you have no intentions of using him in that way. There's nothing to do but accept it, though, so he doesn't resist the kindness.

Reiji

Despite the unfortunate nature of this placement, Reiji is determined to do his best to be exceptional, as always. He's internally terrified of what might be done to him, but that's nothing that he has a right to complain about. It's a terrible shock when you don't go along with what he was expecting, though, and it ruins all of his carefully laid plans for how to gain your favor. And yet, at the same time that he's beyond confused, he can't help but be relieved that you won't be treating him as he'd anticipated.

Ayato

He's beyond excited to finally have a home... but what he thinks is going to happen with you is more than a little intimidating. While he remains eager to please, Ayato is also highly nervous around you. Or at least, right up until he realizes that you're being nice. At that point, he doesn't know what to think at all. Everything he's been told says that you should be using him however you see fit, but instead, he's just getting... spoiled? It's way too strange, but he's still desperately grateful for the much-needed attention.

Kanato

With his looks and dynamic, Kanato expects to have exactly one purpose with you. And he's terrified of that. As much as he wants to have a home, he also doesn't want to be hurt— and he's expecting the worst. When all you do is coddle him, though, he doesn't know how to respond. This isn't what should be happening, but he's so starved for the kindness that it's hard to remember that he needs to stay on his guard. In the end, he gets attached to you much too quickly and trusts much too easily.

Laito

He has a very clear idea of what he's good for, by now, and expects things to be no different with you. Laito doesn't hesitate to come onto you. In his mind, it's better to get used to what you'll be doing to him quickly... except, you don't do anything he's expecting. In a lot of ways, the kindness makes him uncomfortable. It's not right at all, and there's no way he can trust that the bizarre behavior will last. And yet, a part of him is still so very desperate for this rare, foreign kindness you're offering.

Subaru

He's expecting the worst when someone like you purchases him and has resigned himself to trying his very best not to cause any problems because of it. When you first get him, Subaru is horribly tense around you. He's afraid of lashing out or doing something wrong, or worse, what you could do to him— but instead of any of that, you're just nice. At the same time that he's uncomfortable with it all, there's relief in not being used like he expected, and he soon finds himself a lot more attached than he wants to be.

Kino

Knowing his history of getting on people's nerves, Kino is fully anticipating doing something wrong enough to have serious problems. He knows exactly why you bought him, too... except, you're not doing anything that would go along with that purpose. In the end, he's just terribly confused. It's not bad to be treated like this, but there has to be something else coming, right? There's no way you can really just be this nice to him, not when the context says that you should only be using him as yours.

[miyamiwu]

Not so much a theory but just me trying to make sense of everything that's happened so far. This will be a stream-of-consciousness dump.

LINK CLICK S2E8 SPOILERS!!!

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

So remember how, in season 1, when CXS changed something in the past, it would later reflect in their present? In the kidnapped child case, kid!CXS and adult!CXS had appeared at the same time. In the Xu Shanshan case, the gang received a mysterious call, which turned out to be because an alt!CXS had issued a challenged to red-eyes in the past.

So with that in mind, we can just focus on one timeline—the one being shown to us. Any changes made in alternate timelines would reflect in the present that the audience sees.

Our current present is LG saving CXS from being kidnapped, resulting in him taking his place.

Qiao Ling had hypothesized that maybe that wasn't Lu Guang but an alt-timeline!CXS because LG seemed more physically strong.

For this hypothesis to be true, CXS has to dive into the past as Lu Guang and rescue the past!CXS in one go. (A photo can only be used once.)

The chances of this going correctly is slim. Without Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi has no idea what's gonna happen while in the dive. He didn't even know what object Lu Guang used to break the window (it was definitely not the kettle!). Also, does he even know where to find a speedboat? How about driving one? And if you had looked closely in the LG and LTC fight, you can see that LG was always trying to avoid being touched by LTC. That means he already knows how his ability is activated. On the off-chance CXS manages to reach past!CXS on time, it will all be for naught anyway coz he won't able to defend against LTC.

That's why I think Qiao Ling is wrong. It was never an alt!LG. It was the real Lu Guang all along.

As for how to explain his improved physical state... well, that's something I don't have an answer yet for. I do believe in the alt-timeline/future Lu Guang theories, though. If LG is from the future, maybe he's had some time to train.

Another theory of mine is that LG didn't actually suddenly got better at martial arts. He just knew how Li Tianchen would move, so he was able to defend against him. (Maybe LG can see the future).

Or maybe Lu Guang had relived this rescue many times and only now did he finally get it right. (Time loop maybe?)

As for him being able to resist the pain of his injury... idk man, adrenaline, I guess? Love can make you desperate lol.

Anyways, writing-wise, it's so easy to just dump everything on Lu Guang coz he's still shrouded in mystery. He's always seemed like he knows a lot about their abilities, and who knows what the true extent of his abilities is.

If Cheng Xiaoshi can't do the rescue right in one go, then how are they gonna explain him diving a second time?

Also, I find it hard to believe that CXS would want to endanger Lu Guang many times while he's acting as him. If he just doesn't dive, won't Lu Guang be saved?

What's sus here is the photo LG left. Did he know CXS can open his phone, or was that a save point he had actually left for himself in case he fails to save CXS?

But why would he not bring his phone? Was he afraid the enemy would get ahold of it?

But without his phone, and by extension, the photo, how can he go back in time?

Maybe his time-travel ability doesn't require a photo? (LTC definitely didn't have a photo when he was controlling WJ and CXS. His ability was just activated by touch)

Come to think of it, CXS's ability is also activated by touch (clapping). What about Lu Guang? Maybe he has a touch-based ability, too. After all, they can have more than one abilities.

LG can see what happens in a photo, and thru CXS diving, he can also record it. If it's a CCTV, he can hijack it and make it his eyes.

LTC can possess someone directly, but he can also just bewitch them through touch.

CXS can go back in time, and he can also possess people

I have no idea where I'm going here... Still confused as ever

[autistic-gale-dekarios]

BG3 OC Lore: Hugo

Meet Hugo :) The first character I made in BG3 and still probably my fave. This post is all about him.

Basics

Full name: Hugo Lightquill (His chosen name -- he can't remember his birthname)

Race: High half-elf

Gender: M (trans) (he/him)

Birth date: 14 Flamerule 1451 DR (age ~41 during game events)

Class: Evocation Wizard

Background: Haunted One (Dark Urge)

Stats: 8 STR | 13 DEX | 15 CON | 17 INT | 12 WIS | 10 CHA

Moral alignment: CE (pre-game) / CN (early game) / NG (endgame)

Personality (MBTI, Enneagram): INFP, 6w5 ((self-insert spotted))

Neuro stuff: Autism, depression + anxiety, C-PTSD, dissociative amnesia

Sexuality: Gay

Romanced character: Gale (ship name: Weavequill)

Media

Tags: #oc: hugo (srs stuff); #hugo core (memes)

Pinterest board

Character playlist

Weavequill playlist

A full rundown of his story is under the cut (CW for brief self-harm mention; spoilers for Dark Urge & general BG3 storyline)

Pre-game

Early life

Hugo was the only child of two high half-elves living in the Upper City of Baldur’s Gate. His father was a sorcerer and his mother was an apothecarist. He took an interest in arcane magic as a child and was encouraged by his parents to pursue it. He had a fairly sheltered upbringing, largely homeschooled by his father and private tutors.

Hugo was born and raised female, but from a young age he felt different. He struggled with many aspects of his identity and sense of self. By his early teens, he was suffering not only crippling gender dysphoria, but also intrusive thoughts of violence that seemingly came from nowhere. The dysphoria and the Urges were equally distressing to Hugo, and slowly became intertwined, inseparable -- the desire to remake himself, and the desire to unmake others.

Deeply confused by and ashamed of these feelings, Hugo never confided in anyone, and grew increasingly withdrawn throughout his teen years. Hugo didn't understand where the Urge came from, but he knew he had to conceal it at any cost. What few friendships he’d made as a youngster disintegrated, and he avoided getting close to people in an effort to protect himself from the world, and the world from himself.

Hugo began writing as a coping mechanism. He would bring a notebook wherever he went, write down his most shameful thoughts and feelings and urges, and hide them away. He would draw, too -- producing increasingly grotesque illustrations that came so automatically, it often felt like his hands had a mind of their own -- and he would terrify himself with some of the things he created.

For a time, pen and paper were his lifeline. But despite his best efforts to vent in this way, the Urges eventually proved too much, and Hugo sought more material ways to satisfy them. He started by hurting himself, then moved onto small animals -- mice, birds, anything to quiet the screaming in his head. It was getting harder to control his behaviour, and Hugo noticed he'd started losing himself sometimes -- blacking out and then coming to minutes later with little to no memory of what just happened.

To the rest of the world, Hugo was growing into a promising young wizard -- a bit of a weird kid, perhaps, but undeniably talented. At 18, he applied to Blackstaff Academy but didn't make the cut (to the disappointment of his father). Instead, Hugo pursued an apprenticeship in the literature department of Sorcerous Sundries. He was getting by, just about, but he felt like he was constantly hanging by a thread, and the slightest push could tip him over into the dark.

Cult of Bhaal

The final push came when Hugo was walking home from work one night. Sceleritas Fel approached him on the street and promised him everything he wanted. Sceleritas somehow knew all of Hugo's secrets, and spoke of a "powerful god" who could offer him a new body and a new life. He promised acceptance and belonging -- a place where Hugo wouldn’t have to hide who he was. Afraid and desperate and with little fight left in him at this point, Hugo followed Sceleritas to the Temple of Bhaal, and never returned home.

Hugo had known very little of Bhaal and his followers before this point, but he was re-educated quickly. He was told of his birthright and his "purpose" as the one true Bhaalspawn. He agreed to become the new leader of Bhaal's cult. In return, Bhaal resculpted Hugo’s body into a male form, and offered him a new name, which was to be respected without question within the Temple. Hugo felt truly himself and truly seen for the first time in his life. He believed this was proof of Bhaal’s love for him, and felt indebted to him.

With his new corporeal form, a sense of purpose, and nothing of sufficient value to return to outside, Hugo remained in the Temple, where he was groomed into a Bhaalist poster child, a merciless killer. Violence was rewarded, everything else stamped out; his magical abilities honed to enact the Dread Lord's will. Even in the depths of depravity, he retained his habit of writing -- he became known for writing and drawing in blood, even using it as quill ink. Hugo spent the next two decades as Bhaal’s Temple leader and, eventually, Bhaal’s Chosen.

During game

When Orin infected Hugo with the tadpole, the damage to his brain made him regress to an earlier state of consciousness. He lost not only his memories and much of his powers, but also the ruthless aggression that he’d learned from Bhaal. When he woke up on the nautiloid, he was his fragile younger self again -- alone, afraid, and tormented by shame and self-loathing.

Hugo began Act 1 with no moral compass, and tended to act in self-preservation above anything else. Meeting Gale and bonding over magic with him helped Hugo relearn what it meant to be good and rediscover those principles within himself.

Gale was Hugo’s first love and his first healthy sexual relationship. They were both grounding forces for the other: Gale’s gentleness was a foil for Hugo’s violence, and Hugo’s caution a foil for Gale’s hubris. Despite them both being wizards, their first time was decidedly free of magical enhancements. Hugo just wanted to be close to Gale, to feel loved in the purest and simplest way. They didn’t just bring out the best in one another, they saved each other from their respective catastrophic acts of self-destruction. (I Can Fix Him, He Can Fix Me, Fixing Him Will Fix Me, Fixing Me Will Fix Him, etc.)

Throughout game events, Hugo suffered incessant nightmares, flashbacks and hallucinations of the horrors he'd inflicted in his past. These were especially distressing early on, when he had no context for them. While he did his best to control himself, the bloodthirsty side of him would sometimes emerge. (He’d always get a little crazed in the heat of battle, which Gale found disconcerting and also kinda hot.)

After the revelation about Hugo’s past involvements with Gortash and the Absolute, Gale distanced himself from Hugo for a while, and Hugo fell deep into depression, convinced he had blown his only chance at finding real love. However, the two became close again toward the end of Act 3, when Hugo convinced Gale not to pursue godhood and Gale realised how much they really needed each other to not lose touch with themselves.

Aside from Gale, Hugo got along well with the rest of the party. He became especially close friends with Shadowheart, bonding over their similar experiences of being groomed into a cult, losing their memories and having to relearn how to be good.

As Hugo regained his powers and his memories, he felt more and more able to resist his Urge. After defeating Orin, he rejected Bhaal and went on to destroy the Absolute, saving Baldur’s Gate from the evil he had once created. Only then did the weight of Hugo’s guilt finally begin to lift.

After their victory, Hugo persuaded Gale to leave the Crown of Karsus where it fell, and with it any prospect of ascension. Walking away from their respective pasts, Hugo and Gale decided that their ordinary, mortal love was more powerful and valuable than anything their former gods could offer. <3

Post-game

Shortly after game events, Hugo and Gale got engaged and went back to Waterdeep. In a long letter to his parents, Hugo apologised for leaving all those years ago, came clean about who he was, and invited them to his wedding. They both attended.

With the orb quelled, Gale returned to Blackstaff as a professor, with Hugo initially staying at home and helping Tara clean up Gale’s neglected tower. After a year in Waterdeep and with a shining commendation from Gale, Hugo secured a position on the Blackstaff faculty as a co-director of their magical archives, specialising in blood magic and evocation scrolls and tomes.

Hugo stayed friends with Shadowheart for many years, and she became like a surrogate sister to him. She came to visit him and Gale for dinner every so often, where they'd talk her ears off about their work while she fussed over Tara and only half-listened.

Hugo continued writing, and went on to publish a memoir and several text books on what he’d learnt from his dealings with Bhaal and the Absolute -- all of which took pride of place on Gale’s bookshelf.

Trivia

Hugo’s favourite colour is powder blue, his favourite season is spring, his favourite food is mushroom soup and his favourite animals are pigeons.

Hugo is a good cook and he and Gale regularly cook together.

Hugo is a nerd. He loves to learn and, once he comes out of his shell, he loves to talk about things he has learned (though he'll never compete with Gale's levels of infodumping).

Hugo has a soft spot for animals, perhaps partly out of remorse for hurting them in the past. Once he settled down with Gale he decided to stop eating animals, volunteered at a local stray shelter, and cooked vegetarian meals for Gale until he liked them too. He also conjured his first familiar -- a large black raven called Leopold.

Hugo is a very subby bottom and he has a praise kink

Characters that inspired Hugo include: me, Viktor Hargreeves (TUA), Frodo Baggins (LOTR), Donnie Darko, Father Paul (Midnight Mass), Will Byers (Stranger Things) and the Tin Man (The Wizard of Oz).

If you're still reading, thank you for being interested :') Feel free to send asks about Hugo (or any of my OCs!) because I will always welcome the opportunity to yap. I'll make similar posts for my other 3 tavs at some point soon.

[acewithapaintbrush]

Hey, @sokkas-first-fangirl psssst! Remember the idea I told you about? Do you fancy a *opens coat* sneak peek?

🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉

Hunter is not afraid. 

That is the most surprising part about all of this. The complete and utter lack of fear. Here he is, back in the throne room. Back where it all started all these years ago. Him, younger and clueless, kneeling before his emperor and waiting to receive his new rank, the highest honor of his life. 

Golden Guard. 

Golden. As in precious. Valuable. Worthy. 

He is older now. Maybe still clueless in a lot of ways, but not quite as naive anymore. 

Golden. As in reflective. Empty. Cold. 

A useless bauble, one of many in the emperor's chain. 

He is not kneeling now. The urge is ever present, this ingrained need to get down, get low. Make yourself small. One knee on the ground, the other foot flat on the floor, knee in front of you and up. One arm resting on the raised knee, hands fisted, but not clenched. That is important. Too tense and he'll think you are hiding a failure, too relaxed and he'll question your training. There is a science to kneeling just the right way. Don't get down too quick or you'll hurt your knee, but also don't get down too slow or you will wobble too much. It's a dance. A choreography. One he has learned for years and fallen back on in times of uncertainty and fear. 

So his leg twitches, his balance is shot. 

But he'll be damned if he kneels even one more second in front of this false prophet. 

Kneeling or not, Belos still towers over him. Stares down at him with eyes full of rage and disappointment. 

The fear is still missing. 

But that's actually worse. 

Hunter feels nothing. There is an emptiness inside of him, a black hole sucking in all the emotions he should be feeling and can't. He tries to tell himself that it's a good thing. Unc- Belos, doesn't deserve his fear. Doesn't deserve to feel even more superior than he certainly does already. 

Hunter doesn't confuse this emptiness with bravery though. 

Luz would have been brave. She would have stared Belos in the eye and declared war. Would have stood tall and strong. 

If Hunter had gone along with her insane plan, that is. 

"Let us switch places.", she had whispered into his ear as they and their friends had been under fire. "I'm sure Gus can hold up the illusion long enough." 

Hunter had stared at her and for a second he'd been tempted. The idea of facing Belos had sent a shiver down his spine, had filled him with an unimaginable horror. But then he'd seen through Luz's confident smirk and the fire in her eyes and he'd seen the same kind of fear, the same horror. 

Not a daredevil plan. Just plain desperation. 

So he'd pushed her away, pushed his own fear away, so far down that he now can't find it again, and had told her "No way!" 

And now he is here. Captured and alone. 

Belos seems to be waiting for something, pleading maybe. Begging for forgiveness. But Hunter knows this game even if he hasn't been the best player until now. Begging only makes things worse. Pleading only opens yourself up for even more cutting remarks, a slap to shut up your babbling, more baggage whispered into your ear. Presumed faults and failures. 

Always failing. Never good enough. 

But now he at least knows why. Of course never good enough. How could a copy ever be as good as the original?

He'd been set up for failure from the minute he'd been born (made?). 

Oh yes. Hunter knows this game. And he is done playing. He is done losing over and over again, pretending that he ever had a chance in the first place. 

Time for the ultimate Game Over. 

The thought should terrify him. 

It doesn't. 

Hunter keeps silent, looks somewhere between Belos' eye and his ear. And waits. 

Finally the emperor shakes his head. A sigh leaves his lips. Vaguely, Hunter wonders how a monster like that can have such a kind voice. 

"You have disappointed me greatly, Hunter." 

Hunter sucks in a breath and finally meets those cold, calculating eyes. 

Time to fold his cards. Time to concede the match. 

"Just like Caleb did?" 

The silence is thick with tension. Belos is motionless, hands still clasped behind his back. 

And then he smiles. Soft and gentle. 

Ah. There it is. 

The fear. 

******

Idea for a canon divergence: what if Hunter and Luz hadn't switched places?

[that-green-haired-swordsman]

"OPLA Zoro is too edgy" "OPLA Zoro isn't goofy enough" "What did the actor do Zoro laughs way more often"

DUDE. OPLA Zoro is perfect the way he is.

First, EVERYONE isn't as goofy and hilarious as in the manga. Because the manga is a manga. How is an existing real person supposed to act in a cartoonish manner. With the shark teeth and all or what did people expect?? That's just dumb. Also, the tone of the whole show is just different. Buggy's character? Khaladore? Way darker, completely different vibe. Cartoonish jokes and scenes just don't fit in and would even ruin shows vibe imo. Actually there mare many jokes and funny moments in the show, many of which include Zoro, sorry if you've missed them. He's a certified deadpan snarker and a hilarious dumbass with zero self-awareness how is that not funny? Because he doesn't get into Luffy's face after the boy accidentally punches him in the jaw? Oh wait, OPLA Luffy doesn't do that, too? Getting the point now?

What people seem to confuse Zoro's edginess with is an obscenely high self-confidence and Zoro's act of "I'm good enough to beat Mihawk" attitude. Dude thinks he's way better than he actually is. He thinks he's cool and badass with his constant crossing his arms and only rarely cracking a smile and he can't both smile and act tough bc his single brain cell is just not capable of doing that. It's tough guy act, that's what it is. Zoro wants to create that reputation and image of himself so he's either feared or idolised with literally nothing in between. He doesn't have time to deal with small-time fodder, that doesn't do anything to achieve his goal. He wants to be recognised by the bigger fish in the pond. That's why he never fights weaker enemies seriously, he thinks he wastes his talent on them. That guy acts as if he's got the biggest nuts on earth and he needs that attitude to create that reputation of himself and to prove that he's not afraid of anyone. Zoro does have emotions and OPLA Zoro does too, they both simply decide when to show them and for whom. It's called stoicism my guys. Comes from years of kendo training and Buddhism practice probably.

What edgy stoic (OPLA) Zoro also is, is traumatised. The live action carefully made sure to portray that in a way so even the dullest person would get that. Kuina's death still haunts Zoro and their promise weighs him down the same way it drives him forward. He's got the sole responsibility for achieving it, it lies on his shoulders alone. He's afraid to let her down, now that it's on him to achieve that goal for the both of them. He can't afford to lose, he can't afford to die. If he dies, their dream will be lost forever. That's what he tells Mihawk, that's why he fights Mihawk so desperately, so vigorously. He's trauma-driven. Mackenyu's performance was awesome in that scene. You can feel Zoro's despair when he throws in all of his strength into his blows, only to be dodged by Mihawk so effortlessly. Mackenyu's got the character of Zoro down perfectly. The "edginess" comes from the tough guy act, and don't forget... Zoro was a lone wolf before he met Luffy. Zoro didn't have friends. Zoro doesn't want to have friends. Zoro's afraid someone will get close to him again, he doesn't want to go through the pain of losing a person he loves ever again. That's why he tries to come across as unsympathetic and unapproachable. Remember when early years Zoro sat by himself often while the others were joking around? Zoro doesn't want them to befriend him and he doesn't want to like them, or even get the chance to possibly like them. Probably also has a "you can't be friends with your captain / crewmates" policy idk. Due to his own understanding of pirates bc what does he know?

Manga Zoro needed time to open up and let it happen that these idiots will become his friends. He's been on his own for so long that he's probably uncomfortable with being among others 24/7 too. He's not used to it. He's clumsy and let's not forget he's also a dumbass. He doesn't get why people don't act and think the same way he does. Because he's a dumbass. With zero self-awareness. Or what else would you call it if someone who's directionally challenged gives someone else directions like it's the most normal thing in the world, with a completely straight face even?

Zoro's not edgy, he dumb, and he's literally the only person who's not aware of this.

He's also hot but that wasn't what I was trying to get at bc that should be self explanatory anyway

Thank you if you made it this far and thanks for coming to my TED talk