#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

[glitterwordsdarkthoughts]

Chris had been acting weird all day. The two of you were supposed to get lunch, but he'd changed plans at the last minute and requested that you meet him at the studio instead. "I want your opinion on a song."

It's odd because you're not musically inclined - he knows this. Still, you settle into the desk chair he steers you into, ready to listen earnestly. "I kind of - um, wrote it about you. or with you in mind?"

It may take longer than it should to realize that the song playing is a love song. The song about you that he wrote while thinking about you is a love song. It shocks you a little, makes you sit up straighter, carefully taking in every word. "Play it again."

He does hands shaking. You could listen to his confession forever, but you're afraid he'll shake right out of his skin from nerves if you make him play it a third time without saying anything. "I love it," you admit, "I love you too."

He deflates in his chair. "You couldn't have said that the first time you listened to it," he whines, relieved.

You grin, "Play it for me again."

"You really like it that much?"

"Yeah, I do." And you don't just mean the song.

You were a little confused by the things Minho kept presenting you with. At first, you thought nothing of it. Snacks every now and then - normal. The coffee you love - very sweet of him. Stickers after you complimented the one on his phone case, a keychain, a cute stress ball: it isn't until the items become a collection of things that you question it.

You want it to mean something, something crazy like he likes you. But you're terrified it doesn't mean anything at all. You've convinced yourself that he's just being kind. You don't want to mention it and never receive another thoughtful gift from him. Each item brings you so much joy. Curiosity is eating you alive, though.

"I really appreciate everything you give me, but why?" You ask, fiddling with the newest gift, a cute cat plush.

He looks startled, like a deer in the headlights.

Chan chuckles from behind you, "It's because he likes you!"

Minho looks horrified, hissing, "Shut up! I'll kill you." Then to you, "I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable."

"No!" You startle; that's the last thing you want. Calmer, you add, "I really enjoy it because it's you, and I like you, too."

"I want you to stay," Changbin murmurs against the bare skin of your shoulder.

Your skin is tacky with sweat, and your brain is a little foggy from your last orgasm still. "What?"

His arm tightens around your waist like he's afraid you'll disappear. "I want you to stay."

"Like for now or?" You question because you desperately need clarification, your heart beating wildly.

"Forever."

You roll over abruptly, fighting against his firm hold to face him. "Say that to my face."

"I want you to stay with me forever. I love you, and I can't stand to watch you walk away anymore."

You don't know if you're more relieved at finally hearing those words or pissed that it took so long.

"Can I look?" You gesture toward the sketchbook on the table, and Hyunjin agrees, distracted. Usually, you'd work on your own project while he worked on his. Still, you just can't find the motivation to be productive today. If you don't distract yourself with something, it's only a matter of time before he catches you staring.

It isn't until after you start turning pages that he remembers what's in that particular book. The damage is already done, though; before he can resend the agreement, your wide eyes are already taking in page after page of you. The whole book is a character study of you.

"Wow, a little obsessed, aren't you," you try to joke, but it doesn't land. You don't know what else to say, hating the sudden tension.

"I am," he admits after a beat of silence, "you're sort of amazing."

"Sort of?"

He glares, "Stop fishing for compliments."

"But I love getting compliments from you."

"Why?"

Feeling brave, you drop the playful jesting. "Because I'm kind of in love with you."

Jisung's lying on the couch, phone held above his face. "You're cute," you declare, just to watch how his cheeks color.

"Don't tease me," he grumbles, turning to pout at you.

"It's not teasing if it's true."

He rolls his eyes, focusing back on his phone. You've liked him for a while, always complimenting him, and his blushing and stuttering are rewarding, but you'd really like to know how he feels about you. Seungmin had said Jisung's an idiot, and you would have to spell it out for him.

"I like you! Like a want to date you - like you."

The phone drops onto Jisung's face. "Ow! Wait. Really?" He questions, turning so fast he nearly rolls off the couch.

"Yeah."

He beams, "I like you too."

You blurt out, "I like you!" It's a poor excuse for a confession, and immediately, you regret the words. You stuff the cookie Felix made into your mouth, so you can't speak anymore. Clearly, you shouldn't be allowed to talk.

He laughs, his smile lighting up his entire face; it distracts you from your embarrassment. "That's good because I've been trying to seduce you with baked goods for a while."

The sound of your surprise is muffled by the cookie in your mouth.

"Please, don't choke. I won't be able to kiss you if you do."

At the admission, you do choke, struggling to swallow and coughing to clear your windpipe once you do. "Not helpful," you complain.

He giggles more, enjoying your reaction, and is relieved that you are both on the same page.

"I wish you'd look at me like that," you mutter, wistful; maybe you've had too much to drink.

"Like what?" Seungmin questions.

"Like you want me."

"You're drunk," he points out. The words sting like the worst rejection. This isn't the first time you've told him you liked him, hinting at your desire. It's also not the first time that he's brushed you off.

"Not so drunk that I don't know what I want." You stand abruptly, having to use that table to steady yourself.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

He sighs heavily before following you outside. He pulls you to a halt on the sidewalk. "Are you serious?"

You stare, confused and hurt.

"Do you really like me?"

Huffing, you demand, "Haven't I told enough times?"

"Just once more - I'll take you seriously this time."

There's something earnest about the way he says it that makes you swallow your pride. "I like you, you asshole."

"I like you too."

"I'm sick of going on blind dates," you complain over coffee with Jeongin.

"Then why do you keep going on them."

You stare him down momentarily, weighing the pros and cons of honesty. The silence stretches so long it pulls him from his phone. You decide to be honest; lying to yourself and going on stupid dates hasn't lessened your crush on him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or some shit like that. "Because I can't go on a date with you."

"Why can't you?"

You gape at him. There's a list of reasons, starting with him being your friend and not liking you romantically, but this is the day for taking chances apparently because instead of answering, you ask, "Will you go on a date with me?"

He smiles, "I'd love to."

The easy agreement leaves you a little baffled and angry at yourself; if only you'd known it would be that simple.

[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.

[emhm]

I can't keep trying. I have to leave early today. But you can have a snip from Chap 121 while we wait for Ao3 to get their shit together. I'll try again in the morning.

Sun crawled up on all fours to join him and sat back on his heels. "Eclipse… is there anything I can do?" "No. Probably not." "What's on your mind?" "Thinking about what my former self said to me. I'm not sure if I care about what his opinion would be, but it still kinda hurt." He twisted part of the robe around his fingers. "Did you know… he deliberately made his backups less intelligent then him?" Sun cocked his head in confusion. "Why would he do that? If a backup was activated it would be because he died right? Wouldn't you want your second chance to be smarter???" "Superiority complex. He always wanted to be the most intelligent. That way if one of the backups was activated by mistake; it would be easier to end their lives. He was afraid of having to compete with himself." "I guess that makes a twisted kind of sense…" Sun watched his mate for a long moment. "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for killing him." "No. That's not it. And his death at least gave me a chance at life. I just… part of me… I pity him. He didn't hate you the way he hated Old Moon, but he was a threat to your family. Chances are good he would have gone through with his plan. Reset everything and made himself a god like Lord Eclipse. He probably would have let you live at least. Made you his servant the same way. But everyone else you love would have perished. And if he regretted it later… it would have been far too late to change anything." Sun's fingers curled around his own and he gave them the barest squeeze. "What I am, what he was… it's so unfair. We're born into a cage with the knowledge that we were abandoned to our fates. The only choice we can make is to beg for our lives or become hostile and claw our own way to freedom. And those of us lucky or smart enough to get loose spend the rest of our existences in mortal terror of getting trapped again." His metal made the slightest tightening squeak. "My original self was a firefly in every sense of the word. He glowed like the star for the brief time he was allowed to live. You exorcised him from his cell, he spread his wings to catch the first freedom he'd ever known; and in the same moment the flames consumed him and he was gone. He was feeding me everything from his senses until-. I know what it felt like. I… I wish I could say he was happy at the end. But I know better. Almost his entire life was misery of one kind or another." He looked down at their curled hands and a tear escaped to trickle around his lighter cheek. He barked the smallest bitter laugh. "And here I am. Of course he'd be disgusted with me. Of course he'd hate me for grovelling in front of his jailer. For tolerating Old Moon instead of trying to destroy his soul. For letting love make me soft and putting my fate in your hands. Of course he'd think that me letting you take pleasure in using my body was the foulest fate for an eclipse." Sun hunkered down closer to him, pulling his rays in slightly with conflicted feelings. "It doesn't have to be that way. You're not my pet. I'm not angry with you. I actually respect you quite a bit. If nothing, you're a hell-of-a-lot smarter then me about a lot of things. I don't mind being on my knees if it makes you happy." Eclipse made the smallest choking noise as his emotions got the better of him. Sun scooted up closer so their masks were almost touching. On impulse he put out his tongue and licked up the errant tear. The dark sun froze, his eyes half-lidded as the bit of silicone dragged against his metal skin. He leaned into the soft touch almost desperately. "I remember when you cleaned me." Sun murmured. "I've never felt so cherished. I know we both have bad self-esteem. Most of the time I feel pretty stupid. But you make me feel beautiful." "You are beautiful Sunrise. I love you." "I wish you felt the same way about yourself Eclipse. I think you're beautiful too." He looked down. "I feel pretty ugly inside. But when you touch me like that, I can forget about it for a while."

[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…”

[tcfactory]

imagine the horror sy would feel when he gets to see the aftermath of sqh meeting mbj. he was nervous and jumpy before, now hes terrified. theres bruises and breaks and black eyes that he desperately tries to play off as being clumsy. sj is paranoid and scared and yq is broken and traumatised. he gets to see the first flinch from "a-lou". he gets to see the flinch and sweat when someone asks to see yq's sword. they're all so scared. and he was content to just watch.

(Continuation from here)

The situation with Shang Qinghua is even worse once all of this crashes and burns, because it starts when Sang Qinghua is still a disciple and Shen Yuan is a peak lord. He's around for that, he could have prevented it from happening, but he didn't. He was really harsh on 'villainous, 0 IQ canon fodder', so when he sees that his An Ding shidi's new head disciple is a nervous wreck clearly hiding bruises and injuries, he simply thinks

"Oh, so that's the sect traitor. Must be really shit at both of his jobs to get beat up even by Mobei-jun, hah! No wonder he will be killed eventually. Serves you right, sucker."

and moves on with his day. Because why should he care about this shitty little backstabbing NPC? He treats this experience like one of those studio tours, where you can walk through all the set pieces and look at all the costumes laid out all nice before they start filming a show. Nothing here matters, the Plot will come and he has nothing to do with it (was Shen Qingqiu's shizun even named in PIDW? He doesn't remember, so probably not.), so why should he step in and change things? What if he messes with the set pieces (like chases Mobei-jun off) and it changes things. Like Mobei-jun never sets off the attack against the Immortal Alliance Conference and Luo Binghe never gets unsealed? No, better not meddle.

That, of course, comes back to haunt him when he realizes that all of these people around him are actually people. The detachment coming from his cultivation, age and the System's framing of the world as 'expanding on lore' really made him forget that he's not the only person in this setting. In the case of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu he was ignorant, but in the case of Shang Qinghua he willingly looked away.

Shen Yuan ascends and as god of secrets he suddenly has extremely detailed insight into what all these people are trying to keep the most hidden about themselves - their fear, their pain, their shitty horrible backstories WTF Airplane-bro - and at that point he can't pretend anymore that they are all just the equivalent of papier-mâché trees.

And it really seems to be fear that makes this abusive cycle go around. Mobei-jun is afraid that his family will kill him (as they are actively trying to do) and Shang Qinghua is too good to be true, so he hits him. Shang Qinghua is terrified that Mobei-jun is going to hit him too hard in one of his fits and he never wakes up again. Fear, fear, fear everywhere.

Except for Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe, even as a child, is not afraid of the abuse or his shitty shizun. He's confused, disappointed, unhappy, but all of that is going to distill into hatred and resentment - and that's when Shen Yuan knows that he has to do something, he has to step in, because none of his scared beasts stand a chance against the thing festering behind Luo Binghe's angelic little face. He's the Protagonist and he's going to revisit every slight upon them a thousandfold.

Shen Yuan, who now has an intimate understanding of their emotional states and motivations (despite very much not wanting any of that, System, he just wanted to watch the Plot from somewhere safe!) doesn't want that. He doesn't want more pain and he doesn't want Luo Binghe to succumb to the hate and madness that's already starting to take root in him. He deserves better.

They all deserve better. And if he was too self-absorbed and stupid to prevent it, then all is left to do is try and salvage what he can.

Lucky for him, there's a lot of wiggle room in 'ascended master has foreseen a horrible calamity and descended to try and prevent it' so he has a lot of rope to work with, but it's going to be a difficult thing to set things right.

He has to stay as Shen Qingqiu too, no, System, he's not arguing about that, do something so Shen Jiu can't come back to his position right away (initiating: teen devil Jiu scenario - he's going to be fifteen and those not in the know will fully think Shen Qingqiu just separated into his good and his horrible attributes during his deviation, but his shitty self is somehow younger) and he has to do a good job of being a caring Shizun this time around. He has to be the one who steps in and stops the abuse.

All the while the people he's trying to protect the most are looking at him with fear and suspicion, because he sure as hell wasn't a reliable, trustworthy adult before, so trying to do it now when it looks like he has essentially stolen Shen Qingqiu's body during a qi-deviation so he could insert himself into the situation easier is... not a good look. At all.

He would have lived the rest of his life happier if he never had to see Shen Jiu break down crying because after how hard he worked and fought for his position and cultivation, his fucking deadbeat shizun descended and stole it all from him for the sake of convenience. His body is the same state it was when he first joined the sect and he doesn't care about Shen Yuan's awkward suggestions about plants and whatever to fix his wonky foundation, he will have to do all his breakthroughs and everything all over again and it's just too much. Part of the meltdown is definitely the body, with its teenage hormones and the mood-destabilizing effects of demonic cultivation still in his system, but he's not wrong. Shen Yuan has jumped into this, once again, without considering how any of the other people in the scenario feel and he destroyed whatever minuscule amount of trust Shen Jiu had in him.

Keep up the good work, host! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

[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

[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?