#but i understand what other fans are saying i mean

[no1blacksapphirefan]

CRK Self-Aware AU but it's just them being so confused why you constantly tap them in the their cookie profile.

(Can be seen as romantic or platonic, do as you will) ((Reader is unaware that they are aware))

Now I don't know if this is a common thing among CRK players but I love tapping the hell out of my favourite cookies lovingly <33 Imagine the cookies like feeling it and being so confused why, I don't think it'll hurt (At least I hope not) and watching you giggle as they like struggle to say their programmed lines as intended.

Me thinks Burning Spice would kinda like it/enjoy it. I cannot explain why. It's almost like a punch but of course not physically, like an affectionate one. If he ever finds a way out, he'll return the favour and poke you many times to your cheek.

Some cookies like Shadow Milk may take it personally first, he's trying to tell you things!! Who cares if you've heard them all already, what if he decides to say a new one to completely shock you? He eventually grows accustomed to it and learns it's your way to show how much you love him, so he'll let you get away with it for now.

Maybe Black Forest cookie quickly sees it as a loving gesture and gets all giddy knowing that she's one of your favourites out of the array of cookies you have. She's so happy. She may brag to others about it.

Black Sapphire I feel quickly understands it, it makes him more interested in you. His microphone is fixated at you constantly as you do this loving gesture. He finds it almost endearing, even though you believe that they're still some code, unaware of what you're doing and only following programming. The fact you still try to show affection like this is quite entertaining.

Pure Vanilla probably has knows what you're doing as soon as you do it, or finds out quickly as well. He's honoured to be this loved by you he can't help but chuckle as you leave to do other stuff. It's almost like a comfort to him, perhaps you did it when you finished his beast-yeast episode in means to comfort him, he appreciates it a lot.

================

These were just random thoughts based on what I do a lot haha. Feel free to leave your own thoughts in my inbox <33

-#1 Black Sapphire Fan/Listener Out!!

[salemrph]

Stay with me, Sylus

A/N: I just needed this moment after Magnum Opus. The yearning, the love, and the soft moment between Sylus and us... I can't get enough of it. So this is my little fantasy of how it should have ended.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 950 | Reading Time: 3 min | AO3

You walked Sylus to the door. This date was something you needed, even when you were tired and exhausted from the previous missions. Having Sylus around made you feel relaxed. Your new dynamic was heartwarming. And even if you didn’t quite understand why this man was so persistent about getting hiking gear, you were glad he used that excuse to come visit you.

Your back-and-forth, the way you both danced around the real matter, was something that might never change. The ironic way Sylus said:

"We’re dating now? Should I bring you roses next time?"

It made you smile, and of course, you didn’t miss a beat, asking for the roses with the most thorns.

You didn’t want him to leave. And he wasn’t in a rush, either. So he stayed, half in the corridor, half at your door. He keeps talking, stretching the moment to part. His words were coated in honey, filled with those promises he never made lightly. Because everything he had ever said he would do, he had kept his word.

Your heart flutters as if a thousand butterflies have taken flight, and you find yourself gripping the door frame without realizing it. 

“Are you just going to… stand there all day?” you asked. His red eyes flicked to you, amused. 

“I could camp here.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He smirked, taking a slow step closer. “You always dance around the real question, though. It's charming.”

You exhaled sharply “Do you-” You hesitated, suddenly unable to finish the sentence.

Sylus tilted his head. Leaning in, placing one arm on the door frame. “Do I?” 

“You know.” You gestured vaguely, as if that would clarify anything. “Want to Stay over.”

The smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. “I suppose that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether the couch is still my designated territory, or if I’m being upgraded to… somewhere else.” His voice was teasing. 

Heat crept up your neck. You huffed. “Why do you say things like that?”

“Because it’s fun watching you try to untangle them.” He took another step closer. Too close now, the air between you shrinking, charged. “But if you’d rather be direct, just tell me where you want me.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, your entire brain short-circuiting at that choice of words. Sylus chuckled, clearly enjoying this too much.

“I-” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to find a way to say it without actually saying it. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Sylus hummed, pretending to consider. “So that means…”

You groaned. “It means you can sleep wherever you want.”

At that, something shifted, without warning he closed the distance entirely. Pulling you against him, one hand on your back and the other still on the door frame. The heat of him is impossible to ignore.

“Wherever I want?” he murmured. Your pulse stuttered. You don't want him to leave but the way he makes you blush so easily is annoying. He is so annoying. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. 

“N- not anywhere, but if you’re so into camping, do it in the living room” you muttered, half angry. 

Sylus smirked. He definitely caught that hesitation.

His fingers brushed your lower back before suddenly pinching lightly at your side, making you hitch and instinctively press closer into him. The reaction was immediate, your body betraying you before your mind could catch up. You barely had time to swat at his hand before he stepped fully into your apartment again.

The door clicked shut behind him. His back rested against it as he tugged you into his arms again, dragging you effortlessly against his god-blessed body. The space between you vanished, replaced by the solid warmth of him, the way his breath fanned against your temple. Your fingers pressed against his chest, an attempt to put some distance between you, but the moment you tried to escape, his grip tightened. 

“Kitten,” he drawled, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “You were the one telling me I should be more direct and now you’re stumbling around?”

Your jaw clenched, your body betraying you even as you tried to resist giving him the satisfaction. The heat from him seeped into your skin, making it impossible to think clearly, to ignore the way your pulse stuttered against his touch. You swallowed hard, tilting your chin up in defiance, even though your face was already burning.

“It’s different when you do it.”

Sylus grinned, amused how you twist things in your favor. “Oh, I see.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He exhaled, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned in, close enough that his lips nearly grazed your skin. “You are making this difficult, sweetie,” he murmured. His breath  sends a shiver down your back. “Do you want me to push a little more?”

And then, just when you thought he might close the distance, just when your pulse spiked up, just when your fingers curled slightly against his chest, he pulled back.

"Say it."

You clicked your tongue, the spell breaking, pulling you back just enough to remember who you were dealing with.

“Fine…” you muttered, lowering your head for a brief moment, biting your lip. It’s only fair, you told yourself, trying to ignore how your heart pounded against your ribs. Slowly, you looked up again, your gaze locking with his, losing yourself in his eyes.

“Sylus…” The word lingered between you, a breath, a confession.

"You can sleep in my bed…"

The word left your lips like a surrender, and his expression shifted. Something that told you he wasn’t planning on letting you get much sleep tonight.

[bluetooththereptile]

The other family

(Yandere batfamily x reader) (Coraline coded au)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Note: I've loosely based this on Wika by Olivier ledriot and tales of Bogymen taking abused and neglected children away to punish the parents.

Tw: yandere tendencies, child neglect, horror?

The sound of the crickets outside your open window was mixed with the distant noises of the fan in your room working to help with the heat that had haunted Wayne Manor for a week now, the heat wave that had hit Gotham a few days ago was unbearable, even during the nights. You tossed around in your bed, refusing to let go of the green dragon plushie that had been your loyal companion for your days at daycare. You looked into its faded eyes because of rough use and a pout came to your lips, maybe you should take Hamlet with you, yeah, the other mom would allow it right?

You had spent your days enjoying your slushies, and milkshakes, playing video games, and rolling on the cool sheets of your bed, but whatever you did you found yourself slowly losing your patience, they had said you could go back to them every weekend so where was the other cat? You poked your head out of your bedroom now and then to catch a glimpse of its white fluffy fur but it was nowhere to be seen in the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on.

Trying to pass the time you snuck out of your room to take another ice cream from the freezer, maybe its taste would calm your nerves, you were supposed to be asleep by nine pm but you knew you had to stay awake until midnight for the other cat to come and find you, it was it's routine by now even if it meant you'd get scolded by Alfred, the only person that cared for your sleep schedule, it was worth it!

You walked past the empty rooms of Others who had gone to patrol that night, your feet made little noise as you walked past the rooms one by one, turning past the corners to get to the main staircase of the Manor, you glanced at the few doors you could recognize in the dim light, holding hamlet closer to your chest as you walked past Dick's guest room, he always said he'd be there for you, but you couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to talk to you like he did with others, maybe it was because he was too old for you? But he always told others that he didn't care about that. You couldn't comprehend why you were invisible to your oldest sibling.

You walked past Tim's room as well before poking your head to the corner that lead to the room Mom and Dad shared, you padded closer, peaking in with curiosity through the ajar door to see your mom sitting behind her vanity desk, lazily filing her nails as she talked to her phone. Her back facing the door. She had put on her usual hair curling rolls, the sound of her soft chuckles in the air as she spoke with her friend. Mom never laughed like that when she was with you or Dad, unless she was shopping, maybe she liked buying gifts for herself so that was why she was happy shopping? You loved gifts too!

"Yeah I don't know, Bruce is getting rather boring, to be honest" Selina sighed as she leaned back in her seat, putting her slender legs up on the low-level vanity, "yeah, good thing I've dragged on the engagement, imagine I bite the trap" She snorted as she filed her forefinger, "Y/N?" You tensed at hearing your name "I'm not sure about the kid, I mean I never wanted a child to begin with but now that I'm strapped to a grown-up toddler what else can I do but stay? I don't know maybe I give up the custody to Bruce or something like that, you know me, I'm not for the domestic life"

Hearing your mom say those things was both confusing and sad, you didn't understand why mom didn't love dad, dad loved her so much! To the point that he always made sure to call her every day! Dad rarely called to the daycare to talk with you, unless he wanted to say happy birthday or something like that since rarely came home at night, Alfred would pick you up or send someone trusted to take you back home, but Dad made sure to take Mom everywhere himself! Plus if mom didn't like you why did she give birth to you? Were you unwanted?

You clutched Hamlet to your chest and buried your face into its fur as you walked passed the door towards the kitchen. Maybe you would take a bag of snacks with the ice cream, yeah eating always soothed you. Getting down the stairs you walked inside the kitchen, sneaking in to open the door of the double freezer only to be stopped by Alfred who gave you a knowing look, making you freeze as you sheepishly looked up.

"I just wanted a chocolate ice cream, it's too hot in my room," you said trying to give your best puppy eyes look, the older man put his hands on his hips giving you a scolding look in return "Too much dairy makes your stomach hurt, remember?" He spoke, his voice firm but not harsh, you pouted as you held the handle of the freezer's door "Please just tonight? I've been good today" you pleaded, Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he gave in and handed you a small tub of ice cream with a spoon. "Just be careful to not spill it alright?" He spoke softly, his eyes saddening a little as he watched your small smile, you rarely smiled these days.

You walked out of the kitchen, holding the cold tub in your hand before you froze at the sight of the white feline at the end of the hall, looking at you expectantly, the tub and the spoon fell from your hand as if you were under a spell and you enthusiastically followed the cat, eyes wide with excitement "Alfred!" You called in a hushed tone to the other cat who was sitting patiently for you, its crimson eyes blinking softly as its long tail swished about, Damian's cat Alfred never liked you for some reason, but this one loved being around you purring as it came to your vicinity.

"Hello, kitty kitty!" You bent down to pet the fluffy creature who arched its back to your touch, lovingly rubbing against your legs, gently kneading your slippers. The soft "mrrp" sound of the cat made you smile more, searching under its chin. "Good kitty!" You cooed, before giggling softly as the cat licked your fingers gently, rubbing its head to your fingers to make you pet it a little more, purring a storm.

After the cat had its fair share of your attention it turned around and padded away before turning back to look at you as if to say "What are you waiting for? Follow me!" You followed the feline creature with a big smile on your lips, walking through hallway after hallway, not noticing the walls and temperature shifting as the other cat guided you to another world. It was your weekly routine now.

It soon turned too cold as you walked deeper into the hallways and you started to shiver, holding Hamlet even closer as you finally walked through a single door at the end of the hallway you were at, entering the entrance hall of the Wayne Manor again, where you had started your journey with the other cat, but the coldness of the air and the eerie lights of the lamps and candles gave you the signs that you were at the Other Side.

You looked around squealing with joy at the sight of the other Alfred who held a large blanket for you, standing by a large chair close to the light fireplace greeted you with a warm smile, chuckling as you ran to him, opening his arms before snugging you in the warm blanket in his hands. He gently wrapped you up fully, putting you on the chair to warm you up. He hummed a soft song under his breath, making you giggle as he wiped your face with a warm towel he had nearby. The other Alfred rarely spoke for some reason.

"My baby!" The other mom called for you loudly, making your head snap up and you nearly fell from your seat from excitement at the sight of her in a comfortable set of clothes, so much different than what your mom used to wear, making you feel uncomfortable even if she was at home with you. "Mo-!" Before you could say anything you were in other mom's arms, showered with her kisses. "Oh, my baby! How I've missed you!" She kept kissing your now rosy cheeks, giggling with you as she held you close. She smelt of lilacs, and she was even more beautiful than your own mom, her silvery eyes were warm, just like her smile. She didn't wear too much makeup that would cake on your skin like whenever your own mom kissed you. Her skin was soft and her unpainted lips were always smiling, making your little heart flutter.

You let out a soft squeak when you felt more pressure around you, sneaking a peak from the other mom's embrace to see the other dad holding both you and the other mom, smiling warmly. "How have you been my sweetling?" The other dad's voice was deeper and he had the same silver eyes as the others on the other side. You felt your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling. A loud laugh left you as the other dad tickled you through the blanket, the couple chuckling at the sight of your joy. The other dad was always home when you were visiting the other side, even if others were on patrol he was there, he still loved the other mother just like your dad did, but the other also loved...you.

The other dad held you two for a long time, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away just like the first time you did when you had gotten into the other side. Which had become a side joke with your other family. "You need a good bath and new clothes before dinner" The other mom hummed as she sniffed your hair, her comment finally breaking the hold of the hug around you.

The other dad picked you up without a struggle, making you giggle "Daddy!" You called, making a soft shuddering breath leave his lips at the way you called him that, you had started opening up to the couple and it filled them with joy, you had heard the other Alfred and the other Dick discuss this before, apparently, the other mom and dad were depressed for a long, long time. You couldn't see how the other mom put her hand over her mouth as she nearly teared up at the way you called the other Bruce that. "Again" the other dad whispered "hm?" You tilted your head to the side, holding Hamlet with your hand as the other held onto the other dad's shoulder "Call me again" the other dad insisted, and you smiled as you called him again "Daddy!", he closed his eyes as he buried his face into your hair for a whole minute, his board shoulders tense as he tried to hold back his tears, his baby was alive again, alive!

The other dad took you to your other room filled with everything you liked after he had come to his senses, the other mom had made sure to decorate your room to your tastes and had even changed the wallpaper three times for you. The fireplace there was on, and the bathroom was already filled with steam coming off of the glistening marble bathtub there, when you got close to the bathroom you curiously looked at the bubbles in the air, gasping. You had never seen a bathbomb make bubbles! "Bubbles!" You squealed in joy as you popped one, making the other dad's smile widen. He kissed your forehead before he put you down gently, the other mom undressed you carefully, and then she shooed her husband away when she started to take off your underwear "It's a private moment with me and my baby!" She had said,  making the other dad groan. You jumped on your feet as the cold air hit you, making the other mom coo as she picked you up by your sides "It's okay! It's okay!" She then lowered you into the warm water, watching with satisfaction as your body eased down.

The other dad left the bathroom as the other mom washed you, soothingly wiping the dried sweat off you with a soft loofah. You had never been washed like this before, sure Alfred washed you nearly daily or you'd manage to shilishali your way in a shower, but it wasn't as enjoyable as this one. The other mom would coo and softly praise you for heeding her gentle orders to put your arms up, holding her hand over your eyes as she poured water on your hair, making goofy hairstyles with you as you watched yourself in the mirror at the other side of the bathroom. Your giggles filling the air, ignorant of the snow falling outside.

After washing you up the other mom carefully rinsed you, drying you up before she gently put soothing lotion on the soles of your feet and your knees that you had scrapped after a rough play at daycare. You loved seeing the other mom dote on you and pamper you like no other. She even made sure to dry your ear canals, making you scrunch up your nose as she hit a spot while drying up your left ear "It was itchy wasn't it?" She asked, chuckling as you nodded. The other mom laughed a lot with you, and you never grew tired of it. Her voice was like an angel's always making you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

The other mom dried your hair with a blow dryer, brushing it carefully before putting on a pair of very cozy and warm pajamas for you. "But Mommy I shouldn't wear pajamas to dinner!" You said, confused "Mommy makes the rules and you can wear whatever you want to dinner" She booped your nose after that, She then gave Hamlet back to you before putting on your fuzzy socks. You wiggled your toes to watch the googly eyes of the bears on your socks move, oh how much you had begged your mom to buy you those cute socks but she hadn't, calling them too silly.

The other mom held you as she walked to the dining room and by the moment she opened the door others burst into energy and mirth at the sight of you, Everyone was there, even the other Damian was smiling! Speaking of your other brother he was quick to rush towards you and hug you tightly after the other mom put you down, Damian never hugged you like this, even if he said he was your older brother, him saying that always rang hollow, but with the other Damian? Oh, it was something else!

Damian held your hand as he guided you to your seat and helped you sit on it, petting your head and Hamlet's. The other mom sat at your left side and the other Damian sat at the right, and as others spoke with each other the other mom put a napkin on your lap and neatly snug one on your collar and chest before she put a spoon full of your favorite stew in your mouth, and you ate with enthusiasm. Chewing the savory roast with both your cheeks full.

The other dad smiled leaning on his elbow as he watched you eat, putting his hand on the other mom's shoulder as she put spoonful after spoonful into your mouth, his eyes soft and full of love for you. You still remembered the first time you had met him, his face was of shock and confusion "Angel?" He had called you but you had meekly mumbled out your name, making him gasp and speak of something along the lines of "Our prayers were answered, glory to Balor!" Who was Balor? No one answered you that.

The other mom was so kind, dabbing napkins on your mouth if a bit of food smeared the corners of it, watching you chew and swallow before putting another spoon of the hearty stew, giving you the juiciest cuts of meat that melted into your mouth. You scrunched up your nose again at her as you tasted a tangy bit, making her giggle "It's alright sweetie, just try to swallow it" and you did with slight difficulty. "Good job!" She clapped her hands together, the ring on her finger shining. The other mom had married the other dad, unlike your mom who seemed to hate that.

You noticed the small dark tint to her nails, her nails had started to darken more and more since the first time you had met, maybe she liked black nail polish? Your mom put on some now and then, but your mind couldn't see how she had grown taller at each visit, oh how her actions had turned more and more clingy, you weren't privy to her tearful night with her mate, when she'd hiss and growl as she shredded the body of another child by the alter of Balor, begging him to give her a chance of a sacrificial ceremony, to which the being had agreed to. Her lost child was coming back home once more.

Your gaze looked around as the other mom put a piece of bread for you to munch on in your hands as Hamlet sat on your lap. You noticed Dick, smiling at him as your memories with him flooded your mind. Even if the other Dick was busy speaking with the other Jason but he still waved to you every time you looked at him, as if he could sense your gaze.

You noticed the other Jason waving your way as well "Nice plushie" he commented, making you hold up Hamlet proudly "Ooh very nice!" The other Jason was so much kinder than the Jason you were used to, he would pick you up and tickle you, blowing raspberries on your belly and smile whenever you talked to him, even if you still could see the pain in his eyes he made sure to dote on you, playing with you and Hamlet.

The other Tim was busy eating his food, but he gave you glances, each time smiling as your eyes met, he had insisted on reading you books when you took naps at the other side since the very first time, though it had turned into more a rivalry with him and the other mom and the other Damian to take turns tucking you in.

The other Damian held your hand as he ate his food in silence, gently squeezing your hand every so often, offering his piece of food as if to mimic the other mom "Damian you know my baby gets stomachaches if you give your baby sibling too much dairy" She gently reminded the other Damian who with a loud "Hmph" took his spoon away from your mouth, making you pout. "It's okay sweetie, I'm just looking out for you" She chuckled as she pinched your nose gently. 

The other Duke and Cass were nowhere to be seen, maybe they were on patrol that night, but you missed Cass's warm hugs and Duke's play times as you and him made pillow forts, having the other dad and Damian force siege onto it.

Everyone was happy, you were happy, and blissfully...ignorant. Maybe it was for the better as the other Alfred once had said to the couple "Let the child be oblivious to everything happening, it helps the transition to proceed smoother, stress and anxiety affect a child's choice."

It all had started with the bridge between the parallel worlds becoming thin when you had passed into a door during a restless night, entering a darker version of the world you lived in that was shrouded in perpetual night and winter, where the dark fae resided. You didn't know every human alive had a fae double living their own life on the other side, that was why you didn't know your own double had been long dead at the hands of the other joker, and how much your other family were overjoyed to find you there. And the other Selina, became obsessed with the idea of taking her child back by any means possible.

"It is against the rules" the other Bruce had said as his wife suggested the idea of taking you into the fold of the kin residing on the other side, but she had reminded him "They don't want the poor thing! We can give the sweet angel the love a child like the little one deserves! Look how eagerly the child clings to you! The child needs us, my love, the child needs me!" And that was when the family decided on setting a plan to turn your weekly visits, into a permanent stay.

"Sweetie" the other mom called for you" Everyone quieted down as they realized the moment of truth was going to happen "Do you want to stay with us?" The other mom asked softly as she rubbed your back "I'd love to stay the night Mommy!" You answered, making Alfred smile at your blissful innocence "No sweet baby, I mean do you like to stay with us forever?" The other father chimed in and you frowned as you tried to think. The other mom bit her lip nervously, maybe it was too early for her to suggest it? The couple watched anxiously as you tried to think about your decision "If I agree, I will be with mommy and daddy forever?" "Forever sweetie, and we won't leave you, ever" the other mom cooed, holding your hand as Hamlet fell onto the ground. "We will have lots of fun, mommy will be your best friend, and Daddy and others will play with you nonstop!" You smiled at the thought of it, melting the dark hearts of the fae sitting around the table. "Yes, mommy!" You agreed, and upon that, the mood shifted.

At hearing that the lights turned a greenish hue, as if on cue, and everyone seemed to grow taller and taller as your own body turned heavy, the illusion magic was wearing off and yet the couple was surprised to see you weren't panicking. "I'm sleepy Mommy" you mumbled with a soft yawn, and the female fae cooed softly at hearing that "It's alright sweetling, mommy will make sure to tuck you in" She reached out and picked up Hamlet from the ground, the plushie morphing into a grotesque figure of a dragon in her clawed hands before she tucked the toy in your arms. Your eyelids grew heavier as you sunk into the large seat behind the table, not noticing how everyone stood up from their seats, bowing to the haunting shadow appearing in the room.

A hissing voice spoke in a language you didn't know, and the female fae picked you up, holding you by the back of your knees and shoulders, passing you into the massive bony arms of the God of the dark elves, Balor, who wrapped you in its tangible shadowy form "Do not worry for the babe, rest this night my children, for tomorrow we will rejoice for a fae, reborn."

Your eyes closed as you slipped into a peaceful slumber. Before you found yourself in a bed of flowers, lying beside an angelic man in a lush garden. "Shush my child, sleep" the man soothed you "Birth will be painful" he murmured, gently tapping your chest as he lulled you into rest in your dream before the emergence of another life. "Your parents are waiting for you" he whispered in your ear with a warm voice, and then, your mortal heart stopped in his arms, your soul leaving your body that would soon the body of the many children in the garden of Balor, to land into the carefully preserved one of the sweetling of the other family of yours.

Born anew, in bliss and pain.

It took three days for everyone to notice you were gone, without a trace, nothing was lost but you and your favorite plushie, leaving your parents forever haunted by the memories of the child they took for granted.

Tags: @craulo13 @gaozorous-rex-blog @090909yh @demonprodegy @marise-eternal @jersules @goodsoup19 @candlejuice @worshipcoffee @geniegirlrocks @ghostgangleader @obsessedwithromance @theblacksirenofwinter2004 @ranshin03 @prettyboys247 @kinuraoj @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @legendarylearner18

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 7

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is the end! Thank you all for following along! That said — I’m open to write more for them in the future!

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Valentine’s Day

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

Private Messages, Logan and Oscar/Alex/George

Private Messages, WAG Chat

Bluesky

user1: what??

user2: please say sike right now

user3: this is NOT what I wanted to wake up to…

user4: haha this is a joke right???

↳user5: it better fucking be. I can’t have my American driver off the grid…

user6: what the fuck are they thinking?

↳user7: that’s what I want to know??

↳user8: right? To piss off the y/n fans?

logansargeant: lol

↳user9: what does this mean? What do you know??? WHATS HAPPENING???

↳user10: come on and give us something please

user11: oh my god we knew it was gonna happen but I didn’t think it was gonna be so soon…

↳user12: WE KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN?? WHY WASNT I TOLD??

↳user13: yeah we knew it was gonna happen?? Since when??

↳user11: since the beginning of the year? Have you completely missed vowles dislike and shafting of Logan? How long they waited to resign him last year?

↳user14: the shafting is real — Logan has scored more points for Williams this year and he still got his car taken away…

↳user12: but Logan??

↳user11: I knowwwwww. I can’t say goodbye to Logan…

Bluesky

user15: no but for real! They’ve been so quiet about all of this…

↳user16: that’s so sus…

user17: right??? There has been NOTHING but that strange lol from Logan and complete silence from y/n!

↳user18: I know we’re going into summer break but I’m gonna need literally ANYONE to say something about this situation

user19: I just bet y/n has something up her sleeves…

↳user19: she’s been too quiet for something this big…

↳user20: she better!

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, user and 13,924,052 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: mornings, noons, and nights with you 🩵

view all comments

logansargeant: I’ll spend all my days with you

↳y/n: 🩵🩵

↳user25: ok but what does this mean?? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

↳user26: PLEASE

user22: couple goals!

↳user23: do I want to be y/n? Or do I want to be Logan?

↳user24: how about a secret 3rd option?

oscarpiastri: enjoying your break?

↳y/n: I always enjoy my time with Logan!

user27: the hand paintings though…

↳user28: look at the size difference there though!

↳user29: I want that so much

lilyzneimer: can’t wait to see you guys later!

↳y/n: counting down the days, lovely

↳user30: what do I have to do to become part of this friend group??

carmenmmundt: it was a pleasure to see you again 💚

↳y/n: you too, darling

↳user31: hello jealously my old friend

user21: so gorgeous!

alexandrasaintmleux: You, Kika, and I definitely need to get together soon with our fur babies!

↳y/n: literally name the time and place — Marshmellow and Croissant will be there!

↳francisca.cgomes: Simba and I are packing our bags right now!

↳alex_albon: Lily, Otter, and I are feeling neglected right now!

↳y/n: Lily and Otter are very welcome!

↳alex_albon: what??

↳lilymhe: we’re on our way!

↳iamrebeccad: so are Piñón and I!

↳charles_leclerc: what about us?

↳carlossainz55: you are stealing my dog?

↳alex_albon: a lot of dogs?

↳y/n: girls and fur babies only!

↳logansargeant: and me?

↳y/n: of course!

logansargeant

liked by y/n, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 2,924,733 others

tagged: y/n

logansargeant: summer breaks spent with you 🩵🤍

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y/n: nowhere else I’d rather be 🤍🩵

↳user32: oh my god the matching hearts…

oscarpiastri: thanks for the invitation out

↳logansargeant: it was just what we needed to end the summer break!

↳y/n: always

↳user33: they hosted a bonfire 🥹🥹

↳user34: I need to know who all was there!

↳user33: oh same…

alex_albon: ok but where were you feeding the giraffes??

↳logansargeant: 😂😂 sent you the info dude

↳alex_albon: thanks mate

↳logansargeant: 😉

user34: i so so so love the relationship between Logan and the rest of the grid…

↳user35: don’t really care for how long it took to develop though…

charles_leclerc: the drive-in was particularly amazing!

↳y/n: I told you! Best way to watch a Disney movie

↳user36: they also hosted a movie night?!?

↳logansargeant: we did!

user37: ok but is no one gonna talk about the painting picture???

↳user38: no you’re right we really need to talk about it good lord…

↳user39: back muscles 🤤🤤🤤🤤

↳user40: but imagine her sitting on him to draw that…

↳user41: that’s hot 🥵

Bluesky

user42: YES!

↳user43: HES BACK!!

user44: what? But wait what?

↳logansargeant: I’m driving for Williams next year! Hope this helps

↳user44: only slightly!

oscarpiastri: glad to see you’re back!

↳logansargeant: never actually left

↳user50: please give us something more than this

alex_albon: great! I didn’t want to have to break in a new teammate

↳y/n: no new teammates here!

↳logansargeant: not for a while at least…

↳user51: ok but now you’re just doing this to be mean…

oscarpiastri: did you really have to copy my tweet?

↳logansargeant: i absolutely did, thanks for the template

Bluesky

user52: THE EVIL HAS BEEN DEFEATED?!?

↳user54: Santa thank you for the early Christmas gift — I promise I’ll never ask for anything else ever again…

↳user52: same!

alex_albon: Thanks for all the support these past 2 seasons! It was an honor to work with you

↳user55: that’s such a dry af comment

↳user56: must have been a hard team to work with…

user57: and if I say y/n…

↳user58: no this has her hands all over it

↳user59: seriously?? Do you think she’s the answer to everything??

↳user57: everything? No. To this? Yes

↳user58: if it has to do with Logan? Absolutely

logansargeant: You’ll be missed in the garage

↳user60: ok no this is a dry as shit comment!

user61: I’m so used to giving and now I’m receiving!!

user62: bye bye LOSER

user63: 🙏🙏🙏🙏

user64: GET GONE!

f1

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, y/n and 1,824,103 others

tagged: logansargeant, williamsracing

f1: Logan Sargeant has been signed to the Williams family on a multi-year contract

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user65: our emotional support American driver!!

user66: WTF is a kilometer!!

user67: caw caw 🦅🇺🇸

↳logansargeant: the cry of my people!

↳user68: makes us proud Logan!!

oscarpiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks dude!

↳user69: now it’s your turn Oscar! Get that long term contract!

logansargeant

liked by y/n, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 5,829,302 others

logansargeant: she said yes!

On a more serious note, y/n you are everything to me — the light of my life, the moon and stars in my nights, the best part of my brightest days and the comfort in the darkest nights. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me and I praise it everyday. I’ve been ever so blessed to be by your side and I’ve never been happier when you said yes.

comments have been limited on this post

oscarpiastri: Congratulations!

alex_albon: So happy for you!

y/n: Oh Logan…there was never any doubt that I would say yes. Loving you, being with you, choosing to spend my life with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done and I wouldn’t change a thing that led us to where we are now.

↳logansargeant: 🩵🩵

carmenmmundt: So lovely! Congratulations

alexandrasaintmleux: oh you’ll be such a beautiful bride!

georgerussel63: Felicitations!!

lilyzneimer: Congrats on finally asking the question Logan! And congratulations to you both!

↳logansargeant: I had to make sure everything was right first! But thank you

↳y/n: oh Logan…everything is right with you 💜💜

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @lilbitchfromfaraway @theendofthematerialgworl

More Notes

This is slightly opened ended — I have no idea what goes into owning a team, who should be team principal…and I don’t know if I’ll ever write that out. I might write their wedding one day though…

[sturniolooluvv]

lowk let me a be a bitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im unsure if i am the crazy one or what but..

THEY DID NOT SAY THEY WERE STOPPING POSTING ON FRIDAY , BOTH VIDEOS AND DUMP.

PLEASE correct me if im wrong, but nick said “we aren’t doing mid shit, we aren’t gonna post just cus we need to.” meaning FRIDAY IS STILL THEIR POSTING DAY, BUT THEY WILL POST OTHER DAYS WHEN THEY WANT. if anything we should be happy, this could be literwllt random videos. if they were cutting friday vids completely, they would tell us. just like friday videos. and with the dump, like come on. yeah, they’re nice. i love them. but he also didn’t say they were cutting them out.

some youtubers dont even HAVE a post schedule. they happen to have one, be grateful they’re even doing anything???

they’ve been working their asses off for this tour, and for those saying “what abt those who can’t go” i don’t wanna be a bitch but shut up. i genuinely feel sorry for those who can’t go because i’ve been there. but you do need to realize that people ARE going, and they triplets what that to be perfect. and they both said there is going to so much content during tour, so chill!!!

they’re trying their best, and no, THEY AREN’T QUITTING.

this may sound really mean but i promise im not trying to be. its just the truth, some people can and cannot handle that. im just sick and tired of the fucking hate these boys get for simply trying their best. i know it’s frustrating, but they’re changing and growing. some of you guys just refuse to gross with them. i may be biased because i’ve been a fan for a while, and experienced these changing, but come on. human decency!

!!edit!! (3/20/25) - for those saying their videos are mid, i kind of agree, it’s being of preparation of tour. they’re going out of their way to come see all of us in multiple states. they don’t have to do it. content will get better!!!! they don’t have to post at all. they’re doing this for us.

please correct if im wrong about this, thats what i understand. sorry for my yap, regular posts tomorrow.i love you all!

tags:

@sllutty-sturniolo @garfieldlovesu @sturniolo-szn2 @afr8idofrats @pvssychicken @mattsglassezx @ivysturnss @hjvi @lezleeferguson-120 @jensturnss @emely9274 @sheluvsthesturniolos @mattswifeyy @sturnl0ve @loveliest-sturniolo @hereforshitsandgiggles @sturns-mermaid @emillionaireee @sturnl0ve @matts-wife

[pomegranatheater]

ꕥ a flower yet to bloom. kamisato ayato.

Summary: Being a good writer isn’t the only thing that a person needs in order to become a successful author. Finding patronage to promote your work has been a struggle for you for a while now, until your secret admirer finds his way into your life. When he does, neither of you wants to stop the exciting exchange that would soon begin.

contents: fem reader / dub-con / yandere / manipulative and obsessive Ayato / unhealthy dynamic / reader and ayato match each other’s desires and just edge each other for months / depictions of slight gore / masturbation / mentions of infertility and pregnancy / virginity loss / hair pulling / mentions of vomiting / oral male and fem receiving / corruption kink / biting / spanking. not suitable for minors. Word count: 20.4k.

Notes: I don’t know how many people still actively enjoy Ayato enough to want to read 20k long oneshot with him in it, but he’s still in my heart so I wrote this okay 😔 I hope at least one Ayato main will get to enjoy — then my mission will be fulfilled already.

“No mail addressed to you,” Yae Miko announced, and hearing about yet another failure made you bite your lip from frustration and anxiety. After she’s recruited you to be one writers under her wing, you’ve foolishly assumed that this itself would already mean something — surely, the fact that your work was published under her editing house should speak for itself, if your story had to be one of the best if chosen among many given to her options. Sponsors helping you to promote your book, richer people with a tradition of patronage for artists, the intention partially to flaunt their wealth and intellectual superiority by painting themselves as so cultured — shouldn’t they be here already? All the hope and desperation to chase your dreams has turned you blind against your own naivety.

“But… I don’t understand. You say that my story is really well written, even if it ended up being out of the sphere of what you typically sell, and yet… no one wants to adopt it?” Your patience was becoming thin. You’ve been working on your psychological horror light novel for a while, and you couldn’t even sell it at all if you had no one to promote it — the foundation of any successful book — with you ironically becoming like a character straight out of your light novel. At the same time, the editor-in-chief’s refusal to give you any more details led you to believe she was hiding something from you; so typical of her but more and more maddening towards people left in the dark about her plans, especially when your books were gathering dust on shelves of bookstores.

She would never make it easy for you or her other subordinates, so could only refuse to do all the work for you — she was here to publish and advise, therefore, any further expansion of horizons was left on your shoulders, you at that burdened with additional expectation of proving your own worth to her.

“That is the struggle authors sometimes have to face… but do not fret, I won’t abandon you so easily, as you probably worry as such. You’re such an impatient little thing,” she waved her hand at you, as if deeming your concerns as silly; she not yet anxious like you were. She was patient, and had an abundance of experience in publishing to be assured in her self-confidence about where she can lead you.

“In fact…” she teased, her face now closer to yours, and placed her folded fan onto your chin to have it lifted. “I want you to come with me to the upcoming festival. You might meet some interesting people here… People that also are fans of something else than isekai genre that’s been selling so well lately…”

The close proximity made you feel nervous, you a prey caught by the fox in her own office, but her words peaked your interest. “Are you saying this might be my chance?”

“Exactly, my dear,” she smiled. “In fact, if it's organized by the Yashiro Commission, it's sure to be big, and could potentially attract some promising players...”

The hope has blossomed in your chest again.

You couldn’t breathe.

When Lady Miko has mentioned you going to the festival, you of course have anticipated prerequisite for a proper dress-code; however, you didn’t expect this level of formal, as if you were going to meet the Commissioner himself.

Layers and layers, only to be finished with a thickest layer of kimono plush with pattern, with obi and obijime tied too viscously for you to breathe or move properly— you doubted you’d be able to eat much either. Hair up only in a proper way and propped with a hairpin, a slight makeup to make you look fresh and match the current spring, and shoes on platforms so thick and hard you could take only smallest of the steps.

You couldn’t deny you looked lovely, but the idea of possibly tripping over in front of everyone has got you downplay that impression…

As Miko joined the room to check the progress on her little writer being styled by multiple women shifting and at tugging her, she smiled to herself. “Well, look at you. There’s no way you’ll go unnoticed looking all ladylike like this.”

“I hope you mean this as a good thing, Lady Miko,” you sighed.

“Oh, yes. Some sponsor must finally notice you… Remember - don’t brag about your book. Don’t say how great it is. Instead, answer only their questions, no unsolicited blabbering. Joke around a little too, smile, they’ll be nicely surprised someone writing something so gloomy is still a happy person… as if that’s how it ever works,” she ordered curtly, and you nodded. You couldn’t lie you wished you could be heard out about your own story, but oversharing would make others tired… and you needed to be a joyful and charming presence to finally capture someone’s attention.

The festival was not much different from previous occasions that happened in Inazuma numerous times — grand, traditional, with lots of food and entertainment, paper lanterns swayed by the wind everywhere, and people dressed so handsomely you wouldn’t recognize them if you originally knew them.

This time, there was an extra space where books were sold to promote their authors’ work, with the mentioned group appearing here to discuss their own writing with readers.

Yae Miko was quick to lead you to the area, your hand in hers, not having given you any time to have fun — that was reserved only for after your hard work.

“You know…” she leaned to whisper into your ear. “I’ve heard the Yashiro Commissioner will be here too.” Hearing that, you froze in your spot, the sudden anxiety creeping up your spine. That sly, awful woman has been hiding something like this until now?!

“Why didn’t you tell me be-” her hand clamped your mouth. “Now, now. Calm down. I had to hide it from you as I know you’d be too stressed out when waiting for today; therefore, too

highly strung to get herself properly prepared.”

You realized she was right about the wait would have been dragged for you in paranoia instead of in focus on your main goal. You had a chance to be truly in fear only just now — what if that Kamisato man talks to you? Would he even find your work attractive?

“Fine,” you said muffled through her hand, and she let you go. “Good girl,” she praised with a tease.

As she led you closer to the beautifully decorated area, you saw a man that while you’ve never seen before, your mind preceded to have a good feeling it’s him. Blue hair standing out among crowds of brown and black, dressed in most expensive kimono and haori you could find around, his posture so perfect as he—

Read your book?

You were pretty sure it was your novel in his hands, and no one else’s — black cover, with faded red flowers, giving the feeling as dark as the story. When looking at his handsome features, you tried to spot any signs of pleasure or displeasure that could betray his judgement; but unfortunately, he didn’t revealing anything that could soothe your insecurities.

Truly a politician.

“Is that him?” you whispered to Miko.

“Yes, so be respectful, but also don’t talk too much - he hates small talk.” A man who hates small talk… a man of business and a man pragmatic, you assumed. This might work out well for you, if you manage to be straightforward with him and don’t beat around the bush about what you want — as long as you remain demure and respectful; not selfish and self-absorbed.

When said man turned to look at two women arriving, he eyed you up and down — not in a lustful of harsh manner, but simply scrutinizing. You were already so nervous, and thought he made you too self-conscious for your business plan to work with him.

Looking at the open book in his hands, you tried to gauge which page he currently was on, what words he possibly could have read…

Halting in front him, you were greeted with a polite smile, that surprisingly reached his violet eyes. You weren’t a master of manipulation, but that had to mean something, right?

“Lady Yae, it’s good to see you again. And the lady next to you…” he trailed off, giving you a moment to acknowledge your incongruous presence. “I’m sure we haven’t met yet, have we?” he spoke to you, almost teasingly at the fluster he noticed in you, with just one glance enough to prove his skills at reading people. Gods, was he handsome, yet giving you some odd, off feeling as if you stepped in front of a man ready to discover all of your secrets to later either sell them or use to his own benefit.

“No, we have not, Commissioner Kamisato,” you said respectfully, trying to hide your nervousness — but only instinctively, if your opponent already knew all he needed to know.

“We might have not, but it appears you still recognize me. In any case, allow me to introduce myself formally - I’m Kamisato Ayato, head of Kamisato clan and Commissioner of Yashiro Commission.”

You were given a surprise in a form of the extend of his hand for you to shake, when you had expected typical Inazuman etiquette. Perhaps things were changing, with you having heard rumours of him expanding his connections outside of Inazuma. Still, with the status difference, you felt undeserving to touch a bare hand of his. Yet, having no choice, you grabbed his hand, all smooth and big, even prettier, which he shook yours with.

“My, do you have such a strong grip, or are you that nervous?” he said with slight amusement, and you, startled by the possibility of squeezing too hard and hurting a hand worth millions of mora, released it. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay. I was just teasing.” He smiled and turned to look at your superior — both of them making you feel so small and insignificant. You were used to Lady Miko’s presence, but now being in front of two important figures… who even were you? Oh no, if he hated that book too-

“Thank you for bringing her here. I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting an author of my favorite literature.”

Did you hear that right?

Perhaps you did, as the fox lady laughed at your perplexed expression and patted a shoulder of you, such a dumb woman unable to believe this man could be a fan of her books. Sure, she had some amount of fans, but him…

“Oh, she doesn't need to be asked twice to come here. She’d be eager to meet any of her fans, always so hardworking she is. Right, dear?” she spoke to you, and you shook yourself off of your stupor to answer. “Y-yes, I’m always happy to connect with my readers,” you chuckled nervously, feeling as if the descripton made you more of an exited child, looking at Ayato who now seemed rather curious. Maybe you really didn’t so bad, if he, someone for sure educated and familiar with poetry and other types of written art as an ‘aristocratic child’, would describe your writing as his favorite.

Unfortunately, such kind words also aroused another dilemma for you — if your work could be described as good, why was there no one to patron it? Was your writing so niche?

“I’m glad to hear that. You can tell when a writer is passionate, and not a one thinking in commercial terms.” You were praised once again, and that already fed you full for today. Seriously, just one compliment from a man like Ayato would be something to worship by many.

It was your sign to take advantage of the opportunity — if not him, then who else will take care of you?

You cleared your throat, your smile widening as you finally felt at some ease, your confidence motivated by his kind words. “I noticed you readng my novel just now, but if you already like my stories, were you rereading some part?”

His eyes twinkled with intrigue. “That’s an astute observation. I was indeed, returning to one of my favorite scenes. A scene where the main character finally decides to face her opponent, only to realize the shocking truth.”

Your mind browsed through the memories of you meticulously coming up with the plot, looking for the discussed scene, and you finally remembered:

“He didn’t want her to consider him human. Human would imply that she and he were equal beings — no matter the status and social ladders, structures and politics she and him would be human all through— and he was above her and humanity. He was above her love, he was above her fear, he was above her anger.

“Do not seek out a human in me. I am not one you should pity nor excuse; and I’m not one who’d seek your forgiveness.”

“I would never see you as one!” she answered angrily, disgusted by the depravity of his human characteristics she’s finally spotted.

“Oh, then why are you seeking out answers? It’s all ‘why, why, why would you do this, you, a human like me’, isn’t it? You try to explain why a human would do this, but there is no answer because I am not a human.”

He approached her, grabbing a knife from her hand — she hasn’t stabbed him, just as anticipated when he knew she didn’t truly hate him. “Do not rationalize me, dear,” he muttered and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “Or you’ll see yourself in me.”

“I’m nothing like you, you monster—” she said and sniffled, looking at him with rage that only made him hungry for her.

“If you and I weren’t so similar, you would have long informed right people about my crimes. Yet here you are, asking me ‘why’ instead. You weren’t scared of me, you weren’t angry at me, you were curious… and if there’s anyone you were scared of, it was you.”

She looks at him with panic, the confusion clouding her mind in a way that she had a crisis about her own person — she couldn’t bring herself to feel too much angst towards him — it was only pride provoked by his lies.”

“Oh, yes, her starting to get worried she might be under her lover’s influence...” you pointed out, making Ayato smile more.

“Yes. It was such an interesting concept, to write about one questioning their identity, with them not knowing if they’ve always been like this, darker, or simply susceptible to being corrupted…” he mused, as if to himself, before he shook himself off of this small ramble. “Pardon me, it perhaps could have sounded weird.” He didn’t sound embarrassed at all though, his words a mere formality, but you wouldn’t want him to be ashamed anyway.

You, perhaps, were in love with this man already. Not only was he a fan of your writing darker than a typical novel from your publisher, he also understood you and your work. He shared your tastes. You could have only wondered how long he’s been reading your work for. Screw the chilling feeling his fascination with horror has given you.

“No!” you protested, wanting to reassure him. You didn’t even notice when Yae has left you two alone to your own devices, assuming you’re fine on your own now. “I’m actually happy you’re mentioning this, Lord Kamisato. It is indeed interesting. People oftentimes are so confused about their own identity, and finding out they could have been worse than they or society wanted them to be, is very likely to give them a frighten… but perhaps, also could liberate them, if they no longer have to suppress their tendencies.”

Ayato weighed your word, looking at you as if you passed some sort of unspoken test. “You’re right, my dear writer. People oftentimes paint themselves as polite, especially in Inazuma, but who knows what’s behind the mask…” the mystery of his voice would catch you off guard further, if your stomach didn’t twist in excitement.

He then decided to bring up another topic. “Lady Yae has filled me in on the subject of you searching for patronage, having mentioned you’ve been finding it impossible to find a patron to sponsor your work.”

Your giddy humor died when you were reminded of this unfortunate truth. You didn’t want to scare him away with your implied by rejections unappealing reputation. “Y-yes. Maybe not everyone is into these sort of stories…”

“Maybe. It is not an everyday choice for sure. But, this genre being less popular can actually be a good thing if you know how to take advantage of the fact,” he proposed. “Unique can be as interesting as it can be weird.”

“Trust me, Lord Kamisato, I’ve tried to paint my work as innovative… but everyone wants isekai novels or romance or drama… which is fine too, of course, it’s their right to like these and every type is good… I just don’t fit into the general public.”

“Is that what you think?” he raised his brow. “I think the gist lies in a matter of targeting a specific group, that can’t be drawn in the conventional way. You need to create a vision of  your story as something forbidden, that they cannot help but need to seek out for themselves to unravel and judge if it’s this controversial,” his voice lowered, making you anticipate something unknown and unreachable. “Don’t you think?”

He was right, you realized. He himself was an embodiment of wanting inspiring the chase for danger and mystery — Ayato was a forbidden fruit to you, someone so secretive and charming you thought you’d burn if get too close, before the old layers of you would fall into dust and you’d be reshaped to his own liking.

“Y-yes. But still, I cannot move forward without patronage…” you pointed out, and clutched your chest that couldn’t be at peace within his presence. “I’m only one person, your lordship. Lady Miko is mostly here to publish my story, not much advertisize as it's my responsibility.”

“Well, that cannot be avoided,” he sighed and took a look around, the big crowds passing by, occasionally stealing a glance at him being in the public for once. “Let’s go somewhere more quiet, so we can… discuss a few things, if you may.”

Your eyes widened, wondering if that was it — the deal you've been yearning for falling into your hands. The idea of being alone with him made you nervous — a man as if the head of Inazuma himself — but you couldn’t take this chance for granted.

“Of course,” you were further enchanted when he offered you his arm to hold onto — a gesture probably just gentlemanly, if not still enough to make you swoon over someone like him letting you near him. Only a small group of women, at least of your status, had this opportunity to not just touch but see Kamisato Ayato — a figure known for not appearing in public, as if luxurating in pulling the strings from behind the curtain.

As you grabbed onto his arm, the sleeve of your kimono against his haori’s, you felt a spark of electricity; trying to not lean too hard onto him in case you appear eager.

Outside of the festival, you found yourself standing behind one of the buildings, no soul in sight making you rather nervous. Not that you believed him to be capable of hurting you, especially if Yae Miko entrusted you into his hands (and she was the one with a good judgement, supposedly), but it was hard to avoid the feeling in front of someone who for sure couldn’t be innocent and keep his position simultaneously— you knew a thing or two about politics after having studied it for plot purposes in the past, yet it was a logical assumption too.

“I’ll let you know, I’ve been a fan of your writing for a while,” his voice was cordial. “It’s a shame I couldn’t have an opportunity to meet personally with you earlier, but, I’m afraid work is my only wife.”

His words made you chuckle, and you reassured him, feeling so happy about him enjoying you… or rather, your work. It was unreal. “That’s understandable. I’m glad my work was satisfactory to you, commissioner.”

“Oh, it’s not about satisfaction,” he corrected. “It’s about how immersive the experience is. I could imagine myself in character’s shoes, and I am fond of how you focus more on feelings than technicalities. Even when the character was being murdered, it wasn’t about how gruesome the scene was, but about how cruel…”

The words would have startled someone not familiar with your creation, but you only were drawn in by his delineation. Fascinated by Ayato, wanting to dive deeper into his mind and observe why he was a connoisseur of horror.

“Yes…” your voice became intimate, as if you two were sharing a secret, and you knew you got his attention when his eyes darkened. “I don’t want my characters to be just animalistic. I want them to express themselves through their darkness, to be confused and then enlightened they no longer have any inhibitions left, and to look for themselves in others so they see themselves everywhere to never forget about their own nature.”

You melted further when he placed his hand on your shoulder. Talking about this book wasn’t like conversation… it was a flirty dance, so dirty and erotic if you two get too close. “Exactly. No one is simple, and we all are complex creations… oftentimes with hidden and unspoken desires. Hence why I’m interested in becoming your patron. The Yashiro Commision is responsible for culture life in Inazuma, when there’s no good or bad in what someone considers art, but I’m also interested in your stories through my own person.”

You were trembling, genuinely, when hearing his words. Someone like him was truly giving you a chance, and your elation wasn’t much about his status but the understanding; though the fact you finally secured your place was as important.

The wait you were forced through became worth of its struggle it has put you through, if you landed a deal much better than what you’d have upon your haste choice and grab at the first willing soul. Maybe gods were protecting you — if you were to have offers before, taking them too soon would deprive you of the best one.

Oh, you were going to the shrine later. You needed to give your gratitude to your archon.

“I’m… I’d be honored to represent you, Lord Kamisato. I wouldn’t dare to disappoint you,” you said, your voice serious and motivated.

Ayato patted your shoulder and removed his hand, the fingertips subtly gliding down to inspire more excitement without being accused of too ahead of themselves. “As expected. Lady Guuji was right when telling me you’re worth my time.”

He looked at the watch on his wrist. “Speaking of time, I’ll make sure to pass any necessary details onto her, and you could send me a letter with your response. I’m not being exempt, but pulled away from you by my duties…”

Him eager to go saddened you, not expecting him to come here, chat a little, drop a bomb and leave; but you brushed it off as quickly as you remembered he must be a man this simple in the matter, straight to the point and not able to afford time waste, that this could be excused.

“Ah, of course… I wouldn’t want to hold you back. I’m very grateful for this opportunity, and I’ll make sure to give you an appropriate answer.”

With a last charming smile on his face, he was gone.

It was a few days later that you had a chance to sit down with Yae Miko, in order to discuss terms of your contract, with her a messenger in Ayato’s name.

“You must be well aware how special a chance like this is. If not…” she said, her voice playful, “…even more exciting, judging by your expression.”

The culprit was exposed when you could barely sit still, the pillow under you shifting with your squirms. “I’m just happy. To me, receiving an opportunity like this is one thing, Lord Ayato being so… consumed by my work is another. He really understands it...” you daydreamed.

“A praise bigger than anything to a writer, huh?” she teased. “But now, me must focus on business, first and foremost. You can’t make a living off of praises.”

You adjusted your position under her words, “Yes, of course.”

“Good. I’ll skim through the terms, and you can read them at your own pace afterwards.”

“First term… ah, some NDA about how you’re not allowed to speak of your terms with others, I’m sure you get that…” she said, bored already. “Then… you and your copyrights will be under the protection of the commission, and in case of defamation you’ll get legal protection…”

“Really?” you were surprised you could get so much, other than just being promoted.

“Yeah, it’s a bare minimum nowadays. Anyway… another rule is that you notify Lord Ayato about any changes or concerns that should arise… obviously.”

She gave you a few more highlights, and left you alone with documents to read on your own. What she said verified with what’s written, was just simplified; however, she didn’t mention one, specific point — Ayato excepts you to send him your drafts of work, regularly, but only unedited and raw ones. The only thing he wanted in return, that it felt too altruistic and not fair — was your work that worthy? Were you representing him enough?

The request for the raw version of your work got you wondering if he was trying to take a peak inside your mind; unfiltered and un-brutalized by editing. You didn’t expect such requirement, feeling vulnerable at the idea of giving him your unpolished works…

Most patrons weren’t so involved, focused on the outlet and impact published works bring, and here he was, being actually interested in you and your work. Among that, the excitement dug itself into your heart at the prospect of exchanging words with your admirer — you were being heard out, understood, and then allowed to share your deepest fantasies with someone like him.

You ended up signing the contract, and sent him a letter with your response, envelope filled to the brim with a few pages of your messy drafts signaling the beginning of your new lettering journey.

When Ayato has received your letter, he smiled and lifted the tiredness off of his face, the satisfaction making him sigh and fondle the paper of the pages. You were a smart woman to agree to his terms, and right where you should be.

His fingers traced your signature on the contract, made to be as neat as possible despite your drafts written messily as a contradiction — exposing your fake aesthetic. Surprisingly, he didn’t mind your lack of talent for calligraphy — while he hated disorder, the crooked lines were a testimony of your mind always being busy, perhaps you so excited and voracious in your thoughts you were too inexorable to wait with writing down the newfound ideas.

He picked up the first page, reading the contents. After a few more pages, he got to the part that made him stop to let himself soak the words properly, and qualify their meaning.

“A man so cruel and cold, ironically, had a heart biggest of them all. A heart unattainable by any woman, one you couldn’t crack or defrost; but a heart so fragile he didn’t let anything or anyone too close to touching him. You couldn’t make him fall in love, you couldn’t make him care, but he was most human as he knew the value of his vulnerability he protected. He’s ruined himself so no one could ruin him.”

His hands trembled as he held the page close to his face. He understood the meaning of your passage well — someone’s heart being so breakable they had no choice but to be distant so no one could shatter it. Close enough to use you, but not close enough to become yours — that’s who he was. He had too much to lose, and too little to gain when choosing to bare himself with someone.

He wanted more of your golden mind.

When you were told to keep sending drafts to Ayato, you’ve never anticipated any response, with him meant to only receive as your given price for his support. You assumed he’d be too busy to casually send letters to you back and forth, but you were gifted a correspondence from him.

The response you got was most surprising:

“I’ve read each of your drafts and you shouldn’t be any insecure about your work-I think it’s excellent even in a form a raw draft. You’ve given me quite many of new perspectives, and each read is like diving into another position where things aren’t so black and white; nor are they as predictable as things around me, it's good to have a mental excersise in guessing. My housekeeper had to scold me back into work, as I was that engaged with your work.

I will gladly receive more of your pages, and you can hold me accountable for more reviews from my side in the future.

With all due respect,

Kamisato Ayato.”

The invitation to stay in touch with him, through letters as an experience plentiful of intimate in comparison to seeing each other in the crowds, so intense, so… special, as it was about just you two. No one else knew of what you said to each other, what you’re thinking about, and it was you he picked to be his confidant — you haven’t heard about him sponsoring any other writers yet.

How much you wished you could see his face when he's reading your letters.

As many weeks have passed, your work has became successful in terms of sales. Yashiro Commission’s influence really helped you in becoming recognizable, and the organization has been advertising the work as limited and reserved to most of mysterious and whimsical people whether they were them or not — enough for people to get interested in something they’ve always wanted to try but didn’t have a chance to.

As much as it was your biggest accomplishment, somehow, you've been founding yourself to be more happy about another thing — your ongoing exchange with Ayato. You received a letter a week and sent a letter a week, and each was becoming more and more intense it felt like a taboo and sex over words; with you two challenging each other back and forth. The introspection he’s been forcing you through led you to have concerning realizations about yourself.

The experience got you breathy every letter — you weren’t much experienced with men despite your age, due to the complicated nature of your person. You worked on terms different than wanting fluffy romances or clingy behavior; or devoting your time entirely to someone you had nothing for yourself left, or to take. You wanted an encounter much deeper, much more intimate, and utterly debilitating where you both get to the bottom of your minds and stimulate each other intellectually; unprovoked and shameless in your darkness. Ayato was providing plentiful of that desired excitement. The thoughts he implanted in your mind were amorphous, not making a bigger sense, yet, but causing a lot of lust in your body.

Should the letters ever get exposed… gods, your name would be ruined, his damaged, but you had faith in his ability to keep the affair secret. You needed more, not circumspect anymore anyway.

So when one more letter came:

“Sometimes I wonder what else is there to you, if you write about such things but not reveal yourself too much. Are you ashamed of your own desires? Are you scared of showing your true self? Are you so awful that you’re scared once you accept it, there’s no return?

I find such concerns to be trivial, if I myself am no better. Everyone has a tableau of unholy to them; it’s only a matter of not being afraid of showing nor accepting it.

Don’t you dream of that sometimes? To find a solace in your own being?

I hope my words don’t scare you too much… we’re only humans, after all.”

You thought you were going insane. Your body was so hot, the blood flushing your skin from the inside, and you couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating, falling, you had to remove your own clothes. As you seated yourself in front of the mirror, the body exposed to its bare nature you saw your wetness under the lamp, the fingerstrokes got you imaging its him doing that to your.

The mind indulged by repeating the unspoken words, imagining he’s the one saying them, his tone low and velvet, inviting you to become as messed up as him. You couldn’t look away from your own face in the reflection — there was no shame, but the lust for being deprived and debauchered, assuming it’s him telling you to accept yourself.

As you came, you didn’t utter his name, afraid of winds hearing it — it was only between you and Ayato.

The dive into your naughty relationship was worsened when you’ve received an invitation from him. Not to just any place — Komore Teahouse, a place of visit only for people approved by Kamisato clan. You really have earned your place, the thought enough to make you feel like a noble yourself for a moment.

When you have arrived at the appointed hour and tried to slide the shoji door open, you were worried as it was unmoving, locked and keeping you away from your partner in crime. Did you go to a wrong adress? Was Ayato late? Did he stand you up—

Then, a door opened, him standing in front of you with an innocent smile. The flustered you couldn’t notice the mischievous sparkle in his eyes of delight by your embarrassment. “The door opens from the inside only. The main entrance is not this one, but merely a decoration.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to tug on the door…” you said with shyness.

“No, it’s alright. You couldn’t have known, and the place is more complicated than usual teahouse.”

“You’re right.” It must have been for safety measures.

You entered the teahouse, the interiro simple but deliberately designed to be in its greatest and most eloquent quality. No one was here, to your surprise. The intimacy followed you two everywhere, it’d seem, and the dirty part of your mind thought of what you two could be doing alone if choose to, especially after your occurred touches towards yourself. Would he find you disgusting if he was to know you masturbate to his letters, or would he encourage you further? Could he…

Be doing the same?

Your thoughts were shook away when his voice called out to you. “Are you feeling alright? You appear to be lost in thought.”

You looked at him with a small panic, given a reminder you pleasured yourself to a real man; one standing here. “A-ah, yes, I was just… taking in the place. It’s beautiful.”

He nodded, though his eyes glanced at you with knowledge — you felt chill at the idea of him having cracked you, and knowing what you thought. There was no further question or judgement, however.

The low to the floor level table was already prepared with a tea set on it, and Ayato grabbed your hand. “Allow me,” he said, before he helped you to lower yourself to the pillow on the floor. Sadly, his hand was gloved unlike the first-time-contact; yet the disappointment was made up to you with his grip feeling tighter — as if he couldn’t help himself either.

Sitting on the opposite side of the table, he poured you tea, you first, then for himself; a custom only proper.

“Thank you,” you muttered and put your cup to your lips, trying to not press too much to and risk leaving your lipstick on it. Even if the dish could be washed, you’d feel disrespectful by staining the expensive and well-crafted clay. Sadly, some still got onto the cup.

Ayato either didn’t notice or care, as he distracted you with a conversation. “You must be wondering why I have invited you here.”

“Yes… is this for a business purpose?” you asked curiously, not expecting more from a man who’s time was valuable and limited.

“Would you believe if I’ve told you the meeting is nothing but personal?”

Your mouth parted in surprise, and he laughed. “Don’t be so surprised. We get quite along over all the letters, don’t we?”

“Yes, but…” He was right, but you still saw yourself as more of a distraction for him than a person to become friends, or whatever it is that he’s been craving to have with you. You didn’t think of your train of thoughts as painting yourself to be insecure, but more in terms of rational, considering the gap between you two. You still were a regular citizen, and he — a man like others of his kind who usually didn’t step outside of their circle. And if they did (to find beautiful women) their intentions were not innocent if it was about using them.

“No buts with me. I am not a man who lies or plays when it comes to who I choose to surround myself with. And trust me…” he leaned over the table, the proximity getting you breathless, the air so condensed with lust it squeezed your lungs too, and he grabbed your hand, “… my interest in someone is a privilege that only few can gain.”

Your heart raced, and when his fingers traced your hand, you were sure he was palpating your pulse; satisfying himself with a knowledge of your neediness and captivation. You hoped his muscle raced too, because despite his composed expression, his hand was tense and overly warm.

He was offering you his hand, willingly, not as politeness but a measure to be even closer and intimate with you.

“I am not on your level, Lord Kamisato, but I can say the same for myself. There’s not many people that interest me. I want… more.”

He nodded, as if understanding you. “Yes… finding people with similar desires, priorities, interests, if they’re more complex or unconventional, can sometimes prove difficult, and… please call me Lord Ayato. My last name feels too formal.”

You still were expected to use his title, but it was one step closer to his first name, a reward you felt honored by.

“I agree… Lord Ayato.” You couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or truth with how small the shift in his hand felt, but your senses caught onto vibrations, as if caused by his name on your tongue getting him dizzy.

“Good girl. Now, please, tell me about your newest ideas.”

When you left the teahouse, you were pent up again. Years of unleashed desires, now being stimulated and acknowledged by someone so good at strokingthem, you had to run home to relieve yourself.

Ayato, Ayato, Ayato, his hand, his voice, his eyes, more of Ayato — that was the only thing on your mind as you fingered yourself. You begged him in your mind, letting him hold you from behind as he had you bent over his desk to be spanked and ruined.

You wondered how angry he’d be if you sent him another letter, where this time, you explain it to him what you did to yourself... and demand what he should to you.

After your departure, Ayato hasn’t left yet, despite the stress of work in the back of his mind yelling at him to stop being lazy and return to his duty. Unbeknownst to you, he was focused on the teacup in his hand, swirling it in his hand. Not his cup in terms of who drank from it, but the one you left behind. It had your lipstick on, and he was careful to not smudge it away.

Your lips touched the rim of it, and the fact got him hard, as he imagined what it’d be like to kiss you — not suddenly, but only after he had put you on your knees to reveal every of your fantasies, and make you beg for hours until you’re absolutely sure of what you want. There would be no place for dishonesty, and you’d have to speak out every thing on your mind, no matter how shameful or small you’d see them as, or if the humiliation was burning you. Only then, he’d be rewarding you with him going down on his knees too, and kissing you; the obedient thing later made to be equal with him by his own revelation of what he himself has been quietly desiring.

The cup wasn’t given to wash, a lie that it was broken and thrown away was left on the note, before he’s exited the teahouse.

As more time has passed, the insensitivity of your letters increased like a fever. They weren’t talking about just your drafts anymore, and drafts weren’t just psychological and horror.

They were becoming erotic.

“The man has been chasing her after she’s escaped for a few minutes now. But it wasn’t her escape and rejection that he feared. Instead, his heart ached when seeing her beautiful feet get torn and cold, as she didn’t even put any shoes on when being able to leave given as a last chance.

When he finally caught her, she was pinned against the wall. Yet, he didn’t hurt her. He removed his own shoes, ignoring the rain on the ground now soaking and freezing his socks, before he lowered himself to his knees to put his shoes on her feet.

The woman was confused, having been expecting to be beaten up by her captor; not anticipating an act of care. Her legs trembled as his hands touched her ankle, the fingers slightly going upwards, assumedly checking on the damage. But when the shoes were put on, his hands started to wander again, and she couldn’t make herself move. It felt good, actually, the warmth against her cold skin — confirming she wasn’t alone in the situation he’s made for her, no matter if his fault. She was trapped by him, but the captivity could never be described as a torture chamber — the man wanted her to keep fighting him until she reaches the realization she’s belonged with him from the first day.

Right when his hands were about to touch the sensitivity of her thighs, he gave up in place of draping his arm over her shoulder to lead her back to her new home.

“You’re hurt and freezing, but I’m not sure if that’s what you’re worried about…” he muttered, noticing her flush of cheeks, not entirely by cold.

“In any case, I can soothe your worries once we’re home, and keep you even warmer. Or colder, if that floats your boat.”

When he returned home, her feet were treated by his careful hands, but she wanted them hurt again — only then she could receive more of his care.”

As you finished writing another explicit draft, you closed your eyes to imagine his possible reaction upon receiving your words. Would he see you as a woman who was kidnapped and yet desires this dark man’s touch? Was the dark man him?

You thought you’d let him chase you like this too.

Everything has turned into a ruin.

Or rather, it appeared that way, and things were never the way you’ve been assuming  them to be — not even before meeting Ayato.

As it turns out, you have been never rejected. You have had other people than Ayato make proposals; if anything, you had plenty of them.

This man, this despicable, attractive, mysterious, your type but even more manipulative has played you. He’s made sure to chase away any potential sponsors just so he can be the only one for you to choose from. And in the end, it has worked out for you so well, if got the best deal, that you couldn’t afford to be repugnant about his actions.

But he still lied, a perfidious man he has turned out to be, and you should have followed your instincts — not body. He didn’t give you any choice. And most importantly, the discovery highlighted the extent of the power imbalance between you two. It was a scary knowledge — he could make you do anything, and you probably wouldn’t even know it, or you’d simply have no choice but to comply with his demands.

How did you find out? You have received a funny letter, someone spilling curses at you from the very beginning of their offended writing. You first assumed it to be some sort of hate speech, until you got to the middle describing an older man questioning why you’d reject his idea and take an offer of someone like Commissioner’s. You didn’t remember receiving any offer other than Ayato’s, and with the creepy feeling you’ve been sensing around him, no matter how attractive it was to you, it made sense it’d be his fault you were left unaware and deprived of choice.

You’ve been fantasizing a lot, but you shouldn’t have made your fantasies a real thing no matter what. Fiction wasn’t reality and reality wasn’t fiction; if it puts you at risk especially — you’ve seen the error of your ways too late. Nonetheless, some damn part of you found it… flattering. Yes, he’s been deceiving you, but it shows the extent of how much he wants you. Only you. He’d do so much for you, wouldn’t he?

What else can a woman dream about?

You’ve been prospering and — and yet, he could use what you have against you, one day, in case you’re to fussy about something to make it happen, or simply bored of him. Hold it over your head, so you never deny him, should he paint your unwillingness as lack of gratitude — him being altruistic shouldn’t make you any less grateful and put disrespectful label on your attitude.

With one suspicion, arose many more. Such network of deceits wouldn’t be achievable thanks to one person, and the closest person working to you was Lady Miko. Was she involved in this too? She’s been taking a good care of you, but the foxy lady was a sly fox as the connotation of the animal could be, chasing entertainment first. Perhaps she herself assumed it’s most beneficial for you, and allowed him to lead you here; not a kind woman to worry about the ethics.

None of the theories explained the main issue — if he’s wanted you so badly, why wasn’t he to make proposal as a first person? Why wait and put you through many failures before you’d reach him? Was this to amplify your gratitude, making you feel as if you owe him?

You needed to know. And you should have reached your superior first, but what would she even tell you, other than laugh in your face and tell you you’re worrying too much. As if you’d let her patronize you this way.

It wasn’t safe to go to the Kamisato estate at all, you didn’t even know if Ayato’s home as he often spent days outside of it, you had no clue if they’d even let you in. But you had to go and solve the mystery, and shun Ayato. You could choose to live in oblivion, for your own sake, but you were sure he’d have noticed the lack of it eventually. The curiosity killed the cat too, as you, to your own disgust, were feeling aroused again.

Gods, why did it had to be the most interesting, handsome, intelligent man doing this to you? Or maybe that was the reason — him doing this to you, straight out of your novel, that got you hooked.

No… it was never about the novels — novels were only the written reflection of your embodiment and fetishes. Desire came first, written testimony came later. You were never inspired by literature in your wanting — literature is only what you wrote based on your wanting.

You were right to assume getting in wouldn’t be easy. Upon your arrival at the gate, two guards have stopped you, demanding the answer to why you were here. They weren’t notified about any guests coming, and you’ve never visited the estate before either. Kamisato clan was too valuable to not be heavily protected and repelling any threat.

“You can’t get in uninvited. Please leave before we’ll have no choice but to remove you by force and arrest,” first man said sternly. The physique of his body was muscular, you knew he’d drag you away with ease — and this one, you didn’t find tasty.

“Please, hear me out. I’m… Lord Ayato’s writer, I mean, he patrons my work and…”

Guard raised his brow at you, having heard some mention of you throughout the gossip in the estate; unfortunately not enough reason to let you enter and make yourself comfortable.

“Whoever you might be, you’re not free to come and go as you please. You have no invitation, so LEAVE.”

You wanted to cry from the frustration, furthermore you knew you’d only get hurt trying to storm in, so you turned around, ready to leave.

What blocked the vision of the road deep in the forest was a blonde man manifested in front of you, returning to the estate, his green eyes widening at the figure once depicted for him. “Excuse me, miss, are you the…”

“Yes,” you said bluntly before he’d continue, hoping for the last chance. “I was hopeful to see your lord, but I guess I can’t come uninvited.”

His brows furrowed, and he rubbed his chin. “But did something happen for you to come here so suddenly? I don’t remember him making a mention of you coming here…”

Your stomach fluttered in excitement as you realized Ayato has been talking about you, wondering how kindly the words detailed you as. However, answering the question was tough as you couldn’t admit you’ve discovered his boss’s crimes. “Um… I’ve had some concerns about my… safety. I’m worried someone is stalking me, and my contract talk about my protection, so I wanted to seek out help from Lord Ayato… or commission.”

“Oh,” his tone turned worried. “Please come inside. I’ll see what I can do.” This time, the guards let you pass the gate entrance, making you wonder who this man was. Some right hand of Ayato? He didn’t dress universally of a typical servant around.

As he walked you through the path of the garden, you saw the estate was even idyllic than what you’ve imagined in your spare time. It handled both the commission, and chambers where Kamisato family rested and workers lived, and everything was just… big. Gigantic. Expensive. Just walking made you worried of breaking something and having to pay for it.

“Can I ask…” you started, and turned to look at the young man. “Are you… Lord Ayato’s subordinate, by any chance?”

“I’m the housekeeper, to be honest. Still, me and Lord Ayato work rather closely…” he said and chuckled nervously. “My name is Thoma.”

A housekeeper yet being close to Ayato… you assumed there was more to Thoma’s role; especially when you remember the mention of him scolding his lord for his indulgence in your letter.

“I see, Thoma. Thank you for your help…” you said more quietly, your voice consumed by the anxiety about the possibility of facing Ayato after you have discovered his fraudulent behavior.

“Ah, no need to thank me. The friend of Lord Ayato is my friend.”

A mention of implied friendship left you wondering if that’s what you were told to be.

Thoma seated you by the table in the pavilion before disappearing. Blue hydrangeas surrounding you, now swayed anxiously by the wind, clutching their petals to not be shaken into a branches like skeletons. Judging by the clouds, the storm was coming, the sky turning dark grey and air becoming cold and wet. The scenery only made you more anxious, as if something bad was brewing. There was no escape either, as what was below the hill Kamisato estate was built on was a beach many meters down.

The hope to take out your anger on him turned into the wish he actually wouldn’t find any time for you, even if you were so eager to confront him as first impulse that has brought you here. As thirty minutes have passed, you were getting up, reaching a conclusion that both Ayato and Thoma forgot about you, a visitor so unimportant — the matter both saddening and relieving. The insignificance of your person in his eyes hurt, but at least you were spared of meeting the devil…

“My apologies for making you wait for so long, in such harsh conditions too. To my defense, I had to take care of some business first, and I’m grateful you for your patience.” You lifted your head to look at Ayato, his appearance unsettling you last minute.

You froze for a minute, your mind trying to choose how to treat him now. Should you yell at him and demand answers? Should you act clueless just to drop the bomb in the middle and see him so taken aback you he proves you right, should you talk peacefully and match his tone to not give him any satisfaction?

You let out a shaky breath, speaking with no confidence at all as the ultimate choice of your impulses. It was easy to be angry when emotions overtook you, but finally facing the villain… you were reminded he was a player much bigger than you.

“You seem startled, and Thoma has given me a brief explanation of your issues,” he spoke for you, not yet accusing you of a lie. “Please, sit down again.”

You followed him on the floor, looking at him in discomfort, even if that stupid ache between your legs made itself known again. You hoped your pupils weren’t too blown, or that you weren’t too breathy, or whatever you’d mention in your own story when depicting arousal.

“So, what exactly has happened?” he asked, and despite the context being you having a stalker, you could no longer pretend some foolish pervert is what that’s gotten you fear for your life.

“You happened. How could you make me a sign a contract with you while you’ve never given me a chance to choose for myself? Only thing you’ve given me as an illusion of the choice.”

His expression didn’t change, as if anticipating this was the real reason for your arrival. Of course it’d be suspicious for you to suddenly appear here. If you had a stalker, you wouldn’t have taken a route so extended in search for help if the stalker could get you in the middle of your way. You almost flinched when the storm hit, not out of phobia towards this element of nature, but because the color of thunder matched the profanity of his scary eyes — piercing through you, the bright light revealing the true emotion in them — jubilant, taking a pride in cornering you this way; only unspoken by the mouth taught to be reverent and proper, barely spilling truth as honesty was prone to being exploited.

“If I have let you choose, and one of the choices was me, you’d still have chosen me, wouldn’t you?” he asked calmly. Your anger grew at the manipulative argument thrown at you, now feeling iconic for him but not any less repulsive.

“Thats not how it works, Lord Ayato! No matter that you think could be the best choice for me, it’s a matter of you being controlling!”

“Is it controlling to—” “Shut up!” you yelled and punched the table, making him show some reaction for once — the violets widening at your violence, if still not taking the delight by the emotion he’s provoked — he was either sadistic or craving your attention; or both.

You weren’t mindful of his title for once, especially that the intimate experience made you feel like it’s just Ayato and not his lordship for you — too angry at him trying to make up excuses to respect a man who should be respectful unbound by the social class. “If you thought you were the best choice for me, why weren’t you the first one to offer?!” That part didn’t make sense to you, for reasons other than him trying to turn it against you. “To make me more desperate?” you whispered and buried your face in your hands. You were starting to give up on the idea of the real being exciting, rebranding it to be terrifying instead. No longer fun if the risk was not in the distance.

“No,” he said after few seconds of contemplating. “Look at me,” his voice was gentler, and you really didn’t want to believe that tone, but you yearned and yearned for that man, and his answers could be a lie but a white one to keep you high like this.

As you looked up at him, your expression so torn apart and vulnerable, his hand reached for yours over the table, like it did that remarkable day. “If I’ve reached out to you in the beginning your thrill of the chase wouldn’t be as big as it’d be later.”

You stared at him for a few seconds. Maybe the thrill was nice but this all was still… unprecedented and cruel. “You’d tormented me for weeks, making me live in uncertainty if I’ll make enough money to live and make a name for myself, for some game?”

“The game you enjoyed too, perhaps more than me,” he said dismissively to the nuanced abuse, and spoke seriously about next argument. “You had your position from the beginning. Nothing bad would have happened, and I wouldn’t have others have you either…” his voice lowered. “I think I’m the only one who could appreciate your work fully. Understand it. Worship it. Consume it with reverence.”

Here it was. That Ayato that excited you so much. You had to squeeze your legs, and being mad at him was proving to be difficult when he was appealing to the version of him you kept in your head. And he for sure has noticed the material worth taking advantage of, as he lifted your hand to kiss and kept going up along your arm. You whimpered, body so unused to a man’s touch, further shaken by the fact it’s this spectacular man specifically.

“I’m just… scared. You have all the power here, and I don’t want you to use it against me…” you managed to voice through the haze on your mind clouding your speech.

He looked at you and licked your wrist, right where your pulse rummaged your artery. “I have all the power? I’d say you have plenty of power over me too… but if we’re talking about the legalities of it, why would I sabotage you?”

“Why?” you repeated with confusion. “I don’t know, maybe because I don’t think you can be a saint as a product of an environment like yours? What if I was to try to stray away from you? Wouldn’t want to do something I don’t want to do that you want me to do?”

“Hm, I guess your concerns can be found as valid, as I do have enough power to abuse authority. However…” He held your hand against his face, with a rather content expression — making you tingle at its vulnerability. The warmth of his skin was pleasant and more humane than his words; yet his cheeks were dry too, Ayato probably too busy to stay hydrated or moisturized, “… I won’t do that against you, especially that I don’t want our little affair to reach a tragic final. While I sometimes have to reach for less... savory methods, if I make a promise, I am a fair man and I don’t break it.”

“How can I even believe a politician with a skilled, suave mouth? Poets that can speak pretty only have mastered their craft, don’t have to mean their words,” you scolded dryly, and he chuckled. You were getting quite defiant towards someone of his position, but if the conflict between you two was more personal than professional, eroticism and taboo intertwined, perhaps it had a right to happen. If someone was to known about your secret, they would definitely cause a scandal.

“If I wanted to abuse our relationship to get something out of you, wouldn’t I’ve done so already?” he teased, and while his words sounded logical, you naturally had more concern. Nothing was so black and white, so simple, if who dictated the rules here was Ayato.

“Hold up. You have a lot to explain, Lord Ayato. How did you manage to convince other people to turn away from me? Did you threaten them? Did you hurt them? Did you say something bad about me to them?” you inquired with a clear stern mannerism, one he infuriatingly found endearing.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he reassured, the rascal smile on his face. “I’ve only asked Yae Miko to tell people you’re still working on your portfolio, therefore you cannot take on the offer yet- not before you’ve expanded your horizons.”

You wanted to slap this man. The case was still bad. “That’s… just insane. You have a few screws loose, Lord Ayato!” you said with one, big disapproval.

“Isn’t that what excites you?” he hummed, hitting at the weak spot. “How did you find out?”

“I’ve received an angry letter, in which there’s a man asking me why I rejected him but clung to you…” Ayato sighed. He should have expected that, and he was thinking of investigating said man to make sure he doesn’t get in his your way again... “Thats okay. Some animosity and envy is expected, and it’ll pass once the emotions have deflated.”

You were getting tired of his equanimity. He was all in control, not panicking as he knew what to do, and even if not, he’d find out eventually anyway. You couldn’t relate to his temper, his behavior turned out to feel cold and unempathetic.

“Lord Ayato. I’ve worked really hard to write my light novel, worked hard to get where I am, I really don’t want to lose it all in case I’ve made some wealthy man unhappy—” The tears finally appeared, the anxiety and shock defeating your defenses.

Ayato’s expression turned serious at your breakdown, and he stood up to approach your side. He sat down next to you and pulled you into his arms, to your surprise. While you’ve been intimate over the letters, and he gave you small touches, all of this was enticing and arousing — a full hug as an affectionate gesture was unexpected. Regardless, it was hard to not give in, especially when he began to rub your back, unlocking the deep hidden need for comfort in you. “You won’t lose your progress. I wouldn’t use your creation against you, especially that I myself enjoy it too much.”

You tried to pull away from his chest when you noticed your tears were staining his clothes, but he didn’t let you. “Don’t worry about that. It’s just tears, not wine.” He wouldn’t mind your tears leaving their trace anyway —he’d keep that suit unwashed like he’s done with the cup.

He let go of you a few minutes later, grabbing your face to make you look at him. “It’s pouring quite hard, isn’t it? It’s getting late too, so I don’t think it’s a smart idea for you to go home tonight. You can stay as our guest.” His words made you look at the sky and realize he was right; even more excited at the prospect of being allowed to stay on the same grounds.

“Are you-” His hand covered your polite mouth with a cheeky smile, and he answered for you, “Yes,” before he let go.

Soon, he had a servant come to escort you to the chosen room. “I’m afraid I must return to my work that cannot be postponed for later, but, you’d make me a happy man if you do not give up on sending me these letters. Farewell,” Ayato said, before he left you with his subordinate.

Despite the truth you would have liked to call shocking being revealed to you, you and Ayato have returned to your “routine”. If anything, he now fascinated you much more with how far he was willing to go and sacrifice to achieve what you believed to be the individually made definition of courting, eliminating his rivals to be with you and have you only — straight out of your novel. Books with plot containing less safe events shouldn’t be turned into reality, but your writings were always reflections of what you secretly desired, and Ayato has long turned you delusional, and drowning in the depths of his being — no longer wanting to swim back to the surface and be saved, but be swallowed to the bottom and take a breath only by his permission. It wasn’t about receiving attention anymore — only the need to be consumed by him, until it’s your bones exposed for him to grab too, and once he rips them out, you’ll regrow them to be much stronger and ready to cause same destruction so the game can carry on.

The letters got worse too. Ayato was reciprocating your not-so-subtle eroticism.

“The idea of a woman being much more suggestive with her desires but still not expecting a man to do all the chase has been always an exciting aspect to me in your writing. An ongoing banter, where the woman keeps teasing and teasing until the man can no longer control himself, no matter how phlegmatic he wanted himself to be, and finally acts on his desires, tearing her apart… and the woman doesn’t get truly scared other than is startled, but has been anticipating this the entire time. She has been begging-not teasing it turns out-but she has to receive her penalty regardless of her innocence.

It reminds me a lot about us, when I can see your thirst and siren song, wanting to make me angry as this man, wanting for me to unleash my wrath on yoy, chew at you as you beg for mercy when there’s none, and you can only wait until I’m done and you’re gone — that sometimes I wonder if you don’t pour our relationship onto your writing… Maybe you should.”

Your heart drummed so hard it made your ears ring. You couldn’t tell if your relationship with Ayato has been becoming evident implication in your writing, but Yae Miko has told you that you were getting better at… certain aspects.

The rational woman was gone or perhaps she’s never existed in the first place if needed to show her desires to finally be caught by someone; as the idea of writing about you two, not even letting readers know it’s you to maintain the intimacy, yet still flaunting what you two had together…

You needed to go on a walk. Too pent up again.

The bustling city, it did nothing to ease your arousal if only made it worse by hurting your senses. So many people, so loud, others bumping into you — you had to sit down for a moment, on a bench outside some dango vendor’s.

You weren’t alone, two women gossiping with each other, and your brain made it a background noises as you sunk into your mind to sort the thoughts into more logical; until trained to mentions about your inamorato ears heard his name. You were listening again.

“That Commissioner, the handsome one with blue hair…”

“Oh, you mean Lord Kamisato Ayato?”

“Yes! I’ve been wondering… he’s almost, thirty, I think? And yet, he’s still not even married! So many men from different clans already are married, or at least have a fiancée, but he’s not even rumored to have his eyes on someone… there’s no way he didn’t receive any offers! He is the catch.”

“I know, right? Do you think there’s something wrong with him? Maybe… he’s that picky. Maybe, he can’t have children? Is that it? He’s also getting near an age where it’s too late for a man to have healthy children, I’ve heard from my doctor papa! Or what if he doesn’t want them at all? Is he too busy?” she gasped, thinking she might be right.

Your stomach was squeezing uncomfortably at the idea of Ayato finding a wife; therefore a woman that’s not you. It’s not that you have ever expected to become his betrothed, knowing you are not of any special birth, but the idea of losing him was devastating… and making you want to murder a person or two.

…nonetheless, the confrontation with the reality was humbling and forcing you back to earth. Their conversation was a painful reminder that you and Ayato could never be in a serious relationship, and have more than an exciting affair — and fleeting as affairs were, once the lust dies down and all of the forbidden was explored to the letter. You’d be a bigger idiot than you already were if you were to fall in love with him, if the only that awaited you was to have your heart crushed, because you can’t have him and are forced to see him marry someone else.

“Do you think so…? Hopefully not, that’d be awful! I hope it’s just him having high expectations for a woman. Kamisato clan is indeed most esteemed, in need of another big figure in their ranks. With that said, his future wife would have to be a big fish, and probably too perfect to ever exist anyway.” They giggled.

Right. You were a writer, and you shared some common desires and thoughts with Ayato, but that’s it. You were just one horny woman looking for some excitement and attention, not a noble, proper lady to make him proud and know how to operate around many other golden children like her.

You had to stand up really slowly, not as if revolted, to avoid any suspicions about your disrespectful eavesdropping, too shaken up to be not affected by their words; and left quietly before these two would notice something is wrong.

You had to end this affair, having had your fairytale dust of naivety violently removed from your body.

Your hand shook as you wrote a letter to Ayato, this time derived of excitement, with sadness and bitterness taking all the space instead. It was easier to write a letter than face him, knowing how emotional you’d get in front of him, and perhaps also risk him coerce you into staying — you couldn’t let him push you to repeat the same mistake.

“[…] I appreciate all the months we’ve spend conversing over our letter, but lately, I’ve had a lot time to think about the realities of our relationship. I cannot help but admit I’m reaching a dangerous point where there’s no turning back, and it is not you but me, Lord Ayato.

There’s a thin line between excitement and me falling for you, and the latter, I cannot have. I cannot fall in love with you because I know I can never have you. It’s obvious we come from different environments, causing me to be someone who could never marry someone like you, and while it sounds like a far reach into the future when we’re not even in relationship, that’s how serious I’d want to be about a man I love — I would think of the future like any woman. With that, falling for you would lead to a heartbreak, if I had to face you to be finally marry someone else.

I would have sacrificed my time for nothing in the end. I don’t find our time together to be a waste, of course, but I have to think about the future. I cannot spend months with you only to hear that you are engaged as the final, tragic act to our relationship.

I have never heard about how serious you were about us in the first place, at least. […]”

When a few wet droplets ruined and blurred the ink on the paper, you didn’t find strength to rewrite your letter.

Receiving your letter left Ayato with a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps he’s been taking it too slowly with you, or was even too nonchalant about showing his investment in you. He didn’t panic, however. What you’ve said in the letter doesn’t have to be taken too seriously if your response could have been written in the heat of the moment — whatever it was that suddenly got you “thinking” and feeling as if you’re in a pickle, him having long realized your emotions could be easily swayed. He had an understanding of you, that told him of the insecurities about the nature of your relationship, ones currently wanting you to get away. The crisis could be red if he shows you something enticing and brings you back.

The end wasn’t the end just because you said so, and he won’t let you turn to elusiveness. That’s why his response was brief, and assertive.

“As much as your words sadden me greatly, I cannot accept them written over the course of paper. Please seek me out at my estate, tomorrow at 19. I’ll be waiting.”

Due to the short notice, he sent one of his man to deliver it to you personally. Alas, you couldn’t escape him.

Of course he would have said that. You were so worried about him telling you to come, even more with how dry the message was — dominant, oozing unwavering control, prevailing over your emotionality. Your words were described as having saddened him, but that was just the noble talk. You couldn’t make a judge of how he actually has experienced your confession; if he was angry, amused, or… desperate to keep you.

In any case, you couldn’t let him win you over this time. Your work was at the stake if you were to fall in love so deeply you’d have neglected your future novels over heartbreak. They were still your priority.

Coming to his house, this time the guards let you come in easily, having been informed about your visit prior to it. The same man from before, Thoma, walked you to see Ayato; no longer in the garden but somewhere inside the estate. Your first guess was his office, yet then… you entered the area that seemed more secluded, no longer filled with servants passing by. The door opened and revealed many more rooms in the quiet corridor, and only someone living here would be able to tell what rooms contained if their entrances looked all the same.

You were scared at this point — you were witnessing the sudden turn from official with a mix of personal like the dynamic between you two was up till this point, to entirely personal in the blink of an eye. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to do something to you, if you had ended up here.

“Please, come inside. My lord is waiting for you already,” Thoma said politely after the door was slid open for you. His calm demeanor, you wondered if he was clueless about the upcoming danger you were thrown into, or just pretended to be, all unshaken by your trepidation — maybe he was an executioner himself, a watchful loyal guard dog, if a man like Ayato trusted him.

As you stepped into the room, your access to the world was shut behind you before you could make a last, haste decision to leave.

Ayato was seated on the tatami floor, his back turned against you. Clothed in dark blue yukata with grey haori over it, which to you looked as if changed into the last minute, suspecting he usually would still be working in the regular attire.

When he turned around, his expression serious, he gestured at the spot in front of him.

With you situated, he spoke to you, “I was surprised to receive a letter like this all of the sudden. Are you doing alright?”

Your mouth popped open, confused and offended by his words. Was he really trying to make you look as if you were unwell sending that letter, and not serious in your decision? “Yes, I am doing alright. My decision was honest, not emotional, and I think rational considering the arguments I’ve mentioned,” you said with some confidence. You had to be right about the proposed reasoning if you’ve never seen a clan member marry likes of you, not even in novels, as if it was a topic illegal to write in Inazuma.

“These are indeed sound arguments, but I think our situation deserves a more thorough examination. While it’s true a relationship between someone like me and you would be typically condemned, and doomed from the beginning…” he moved closer to you, and stroked your cheek, as his eyes wandered over every part of your face, taking in your vulnerability and longing, “… I also know how to deal with obstacles, and not even once I’ve taken our romance lightly.”

“R-romance?” you choked out, not expecting the usage of the word. It felt good, but even more unrequited with your worries.

“Romance. It’s certainly not some simple physical lust, no matter how… risqué ans titillating our words have become. I do see you for more than this, especially when I was gifted with a familiar mind always craving something among the lines of my own greed,” he whispered and kissed your hot cheek. Your eyelashes fluttered and you squirmed in your seat. “You don’t want a merciful and respectful lover, do you?”

“Stop… stop doing this. You’re using affection against me. You still haven’t truly acknowledged my concerns. I was right about us never being able to be truly together, was I?” your voice trembled as you begged for the answer.

“What has led you to have that conclusion in the first place?” he inquired.

“Just answer my question, Lord Ayato! It’s unfair to try to make me love you and then make me witness you leaving me, so I need to know!” you erupted, and his hand grabbed onto your neck. He didn’t squeeze, he didn’t look threatening, and still, it was him telling you to keep quiet before you reach other conclusions; exerting his hold over the curveball in your relationship, a man lying to himself so you don’t have a chance to see the hungry black hole you’ve torn in him too.

“I’ll answer your paranoias once you provide me with more information,” he said calmly. It felt plenty of humiliating to be emotional in front of a rock; even if it didn’t make you to be the one unhealthy and irrational person here — being impassive and indifferent was close to inhumane, uncaring, and wiped out of any sympathy.

“Fine!” you huffed. “I’ve heard people in the city talk about you, asking themselves why you’re still not married. There was a suggestion of infertility but also you being picky! And then a thought that you would need someone to be perfect in order to choose to marry them! That’s when I was reminded I can’t ever have someone like you, truly. I can have an affair with you, but I can’t ever be officially with you and some woman would steal you from me eventually!” your voice cracked and you were crying.

Ayato sighed and his hand left your throat in purchase of stroking your cheek instead. “And why do you think I haven’t gotten married yet?”

You had enough of him and these stupid questions, not informing you but stirring confusion and frustration. You wanted answers, not be made to play a guessing game. “I don’t know! You’re too busy! You’re too picky! You’re too bored to be with anyone! Whatever that is wrong with you, just for damn sake of not torturing me say it!” you forced with anger.

His fingers wiped your tears, and he finally enlightened your provoked mind. “What’s true is that I haven’t gotten married because I’m too busy. What’s not true is that I cannot have children. What for sure is the truth is me being picky.”

“There were many women offered for me to marry, many of them women beautiful and considered to be on another level of valuable compared to you, but…”

“I haven’t wanted someone enough to bind myself to them, until now. All of these women deserve respect, and the problem was in me wanting more than just proper, when that’s what unfortunately is expected of them.”

“It seems I was too perverse to be compatible with someone who doesn’t show tendencies compared to mine, or someone who’s not afraid to… step out of society’s comfort zone; no matter if appearing to be a pariah as a consequence. I’ve used to believe my desires are only natural, but Thoma led me to realize I’m the oddity, ironically. I’d have to either scare this woman, or pretend to be a righteous man for her sake for the rest of my life — an existence rather suffocating.”

“Shame is only in the woman who finally met these requirements not being of my status, but even that can be managed,” he finally ended his speech, leaving you startled. This time, you felt as if he meant his words — words that meant you were the only woman who had truly picked up his interest. Albeit, words speaking to your deepest craving, the tool to spark excitement and desire back then, now actually scared you when the final truth about Ayato has been revealed. Darkness he’s been hiding only to slowly release it onto you, entrapping you with him from the beginning and letting you be aware of his intentions only once he’s decided to take the action. Furthermore horrific when he sounded as if he would make sure you’re his, removing any obstacles in his way — one he dug with his own bare hands to get to you, before you even were aware of his existence around you.

“You’re saying that… despite our differences in social class, you’d still find a way to make us a thing?”

“If one had to put it in simple terms, then yes. I could make you my wife, if I choose to. Of course, marrying someone of your status wouldn’t be without some backlash, hence why…” his voice was serious again. “I could always make you one of us, my dear.”

The capability of his obsession with you hit you like a train. He was actually willing to marry you, and you couldn’t even understand how this would be possible, the cluster of your thoughts coming to no profound conclusion. You wanted Ayato until you didn’t. Playing erotic game with him was fun, but tying yourself to him for the rest of your life, to the influence he was ready to smear over you… it was only jealousy that made you hesitate about letting him go. You got too close to the fire and got burn.

You were a dumb, dumb woman — crying about not having him only to want to be away from him. Yet, even if you were to choose to not pursue the relationship with him from the beginning, wouldn’t he still make you his anyway? Was this a matter of choice or the convenience of you still enjoying the cage slowly becoming less spacious?

“How is that even possible?” you voiced angrily. “Do you want to meet wrath of our archon or something?”

“Kamisato means “god’s village”, and the phrase keeps being proven to be a rightful title everyday, as me and my family work hard to keep Inazuma protected, and at peace. If I decide to marry you, it’s because it was bestowed upon me,” he scolded.

“You want me, as much as I want you. Once you’ve met me, you knew there’s no one else who could satisfy that hollowness within you like I could.”

“No, I don’t want you! I want the idea of you, the man over the letter, not the man doing shady things to trap me with him!” you protested, while hateful of him trying to make himself to be a pious man. “It’s nothing but fantasies.”

“I’m not trapping you, if I’m calling you to my side. That man is me, it’s always been me. Now you can have him everyday. This doesn’t have to end, our exchange and games, and you showing me what are you made of.”

You gasped as his face was very close to yours, with an intention to kiss you. “It’s only a matter of finding an older relative of yours, connected to one of the clans by even the smallest relevance, and making it look like as if you’ve been a deserving member all along, now regaining her status.”

“That’s… you have no right to do things like that, Lord Ayato! You’ve promised me you won’t abuse your authority!”

“And I’ve kept my promise,” he muttered and kissed along your jaw, making you freeze. “I said I won’t abuse my authority against you.” Just against anyone else to get you here. “I’ve done nothing against you, if I’m giving you the biggest opportunity of your life. Yet, it seems even luxuries don’t entice you in our courting, which speaks well of your conscience, no matter if birds like you deserve to be spoiled… which is alright — I’ll just have to show you why there’s no place for running away.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. He was excusing everything, he was trying to act as if he’s been acting in your name too, and now he was kissing you like a lover — neglecting the contradictory messages behind his precious actions. “Stop this, I don’t want to be touched by you at the moment.” You tried to push him away from you, but he grabbed your hands and held them against his chest.

“Can you hear my heart? Does it sound cold or unaffected to you? Am I heartless?” His heart indeed raced under your veins, and was unhealthier than yours. Has he been hiding this the entire time under the facade of a man in control? The analogy between him and your first drafts…

“That’s… lust. Any man would be erratic when touching a woman.” But the odd, angry look on his face made you believe it was worse than lust.

“Do not undervalue my feelings. You were never something as negligible as a woman to play with. I haven’t spent months of holding myself back just to be seen as a nothing but a selfish, hungry man to use you and throw you away. Do you think I didn’t want to force myself onto you when you’ve met me at the teahouse? It was unbearable but I’ve waited until you want me too, so you have no hesitation left about our desires being mutual. But it seems you have a cheek to doubt me, that’s why I’ll prove it to you there’s no one for you but me.”

The intensity of his confessions has worked its effect on you, revoking the barriers of logic, but it seemed you bit more that you could chew — can you truly handle a fantasy becoming real?

Your body said yes already, a long time ago in fact, crying out for the object of your desires of months; it was the mind holding onto the last remains of rationality and fear.

“Lord Ayato, wait—”

“You’ve brought this onto yourself, me included. Reap what you sow,” he said harshly and smacked your lips with his, and the skilled hand placed itself on your back for his body to push you to the floor.

The kiss was greedy, matching his latest hunger, and he devoured you on the spot. With the last will to protest, you tried to push him away from the top of you — to no success. And while you didn’t reciprocate at first, your mind was reminded of so many of the fantasies gathered upon last months, you were begging yourself to do something.

Ayato’s knees separated your legs when he felt you tense and struggle less, your lips now following his, yet as if unsure or… inexperienced?

He finally let you breathe, looking at the flustered and shaken form of you below him. “What’s holding you back so much?” he asked, breathless himself. His words contorted your expression into embarrassment, and he had to ask, “Have you… never been kissed before?” the words barely left his mouth, as if seeing it as theory too impossible to be plausible. You, in his eyes, were attractive, and being closer to his age, you should have had some experience.

You wanted to bury your head into the sand. “Uh… no?”

“… No?” his eyes widened. He tried to understand why you wouldn’t have any experience, but the bigger feeling clouded the impression — elation. If what you said was to be right, he’d be the first man to ever touch you, taste you and have an influence on you. It was him as first and last man to have you.

“So you’ve never kissed… and, never were intimate either, I assume?” he tried to make the sense.

When you nodded, he wanted to marry you on the spot. You were his, truly, on another level. He would be the first man to guide you through roads of pleasure, first in telling you what you want, the only man on your mind — his work in monopolizing you bore its fruit.

Ayato wanted to corrupt you, so you need, want, and see him only; and so you finally accept yourself and him for who two of you were. To make you see this is what you’ve begging for the entire time, in your letters, in your books; a man to grab you, paint you bad, and then let you destroy him too — how else would he knows he’s being loved by you?

“How is that possible?”

“I just… didn’t find any man interesting enough to feel desire towards them? I don’t know… it’s until I’ve met you that I—never mind,” you cut off, not empathetic enough to give him even more leverage than he already had.

He knew what you stopped yourself from uttering, but he didn’t pressure you to answer as he’d typically do — it’d be too much for him to take, this time.

He didn’t realize how much he was shaking until he wiped his forehead covered in sweat. “If you truly are a virgin… I assume we could wait with it until our wedding night, if it shouldn’t be that far from now, to make your first time special  but… I don’t think any of us could wait. We’ll have many more nights like this, and I’ll keep taking you as many times I need until you think the best of you belongs and was revealed to me.”

“W-wedding night?” he was serious about the marriage thing, but him wanting to ruin you out of your virginity state was your biggest concern for the moment. You’ve never had sex before, you didn’t want it to be painful, you were not given any chance to get accustomed to any of what Ayato has thrown at you today either. “No, I’m not ready, Lord Ayato—”

“Ayato.”

“What?” you whispered, too stunned, as he suddenly lifted you up into his arms and carried to another room.

“Call me Ayato when it’s just the two us.”

When he saw that reluctance again, he pleaded, “Please.”

The desperation in his voice made you gulp, and you couldn’t accuse him of it being fake. It was working on you too, having been deprived of him for so long only to be given him on a silver platter.

“A-Ayato. I’ve never done this, I don’t think I can… do that.”

“Shh, I’ll be gentle. I promise,” he said softly and was placing you on the futon in his own room, one you had no chance to fully take in, as he was kissing you again. He tried to hold back for your sake, guiding you through the kiss, and moving your head by your jaw to show you the right angle.

You were falling, you were dreaming with your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the musk and flutter of his perfume infused with distinct tsubaki flowers irritating your nose. His hands were everywhere, he was everywhere, even soaking the walls with his presence. This shouldn’t be happening, you shouldn’t be letting him do this, but you were weak against him, and have found yourself in the scenario written by you now becoming real.

When his mouth left your lips you weren’t given any respite when he went down your neck, making you whimper. “Lo—I mean, Ayato, slow down…” you pleaded.

“Why?” he murmured against your skin, the vibration and breath only making it worse for untouched body. “You are enjoying yourself, and don’t think of me as a fool — I’ve seen how unappeasably you are behaving around me.” His words struck you and got you further flustered, when this man was absolutely right about your shameful nature.

“Still… we’re not even a couple—” you moaned out as he ground against you, his obvious bulge scratching your clit with the friction of your clothes.

“That is just a label. We might not be together officially, however… we have much more than this, and you’ll be my wife soon anyway. I believe we’ve known each other, on mind level especially, for a satisfactory period of time…” he admitted intensely, as he looked at you below him. You were barely breathing and it was because of him; and while that mouth was spilling protest, he knew all he needed to know to pursue this tango of decoy.

The title “wife” sounded so enticing and scary, and you were stuck in limbo. If you get away, you’ll miss him and never have yourself fed properly. If you get too close to the sun, you’ll burn.

Ayato will ruin you and you could only beg it’s not going to swallow you as whole, corrupt your mind and left you needing more. He’ll shove into a predicament of you having to ruin him just the same, so you two are equal and able to coexist.

Seeing the dilemma written all over your face, Ayato decided to keep luring you. “I’ll take a good care of you.”

When his hands moved to remove untie your layers, you found yourself frozen and tense from the anticipation. You were so needy, so under his spell — how double faced Ayato was didn’t even matter anymore, when he was finally being honest with you and himself.

His breath hitched when he saw your nude body, an image he’s been trying to form in his head only to be ruined by the real sight being ten times better. His hand, now shaking, travelled on the valley between your breasts, making your hair stand in goosebumps. “You really are a piece of art…” His mind entertained the idea of asking an artist to create shunga with you two in it, but he ultimately decided a man like that would have to his eyes gouged out right afterwards.

“Thank you for this gift,” he said, as if it was you who offered yourself, ironically. You whimpered when his hands touched your breasts and trapped your nipples between his long finger. Seeing your reaction, he hummed. “You weren’t lying about being a virgin. You are as sensitive as one.”

“Just stop… you’re too shameless,” you muttered with no conviction, making him snicker. “Me? Shameless? Did you forget these little letters of yours?” his voice was teasing, as he leaned close to your ear to remind you of the debauchery you spilled onto your papers once:

“The man’s hand always cold, now became a scorching sun under his lover’s skin. She writhed under him, trying to escape the torment, but her belly burned as hot…” Ayato smiled against your neck as he felt you shudder. He broke you this way, instilling a desire too strong to continue rationalizing this situation, and looking for his faults.

“Let me be that man.”

Ayato settled down between your legs properly, to kiss over your belly, leaving trails of saliva against your skin so warm you thought you’d see it turn into steam. “Do you think this is what she felt? Or do you think it was worse?” he inquired in low tone, as his lips were on your abdomen, too close to the area that now felt pained and throbbing. His hands held onto your thighs, not allowing to close on him.

“W-worse,” you answered, not much thinking, but feeling what she felt.

“Is that bad enough?” he asked and kissed your mound, to which your hips jerked up. “It would seem so…” he mused. “Ayato, I can’t…” you whimpered. “You can’t or you don’t want to?” The question shut your feverish mind off, knowing you’d probably cry if he was to stop now. “It’s just too much…”

“It’s not my fault you’re so sensitive… or maybe you want me this much your body just cannot help itself. But don’t worry, once you’ll get used to my touch you will only ask for more — not try to escape my touch.”

His gaze lowered to the wet pool between your folds, liquid quantities showing how unregulated your body was. Years of being denied only for you to be finally given — he was going to overheat your body once you get everything you’ve wanted. “Such a naughty girl.”

You moaned loudly when his finger gently rubbed your clit, rolling the small button. “I still feel honored to be the first man to be doing this to you… I’d probably want to erase any previous history from your body if I wasn’t the first guest. You’ve given me a chance greater than any other. Yes, I really was blessed…”

Ayato’s manic blabbering got you only more horny, if you were no better in enjoying such sentiments. “Ayato… it feels weird…”

“Shh, it’s okay. It must feel different from when you… touched yourself, I assume. Did you think of me when doing this?” the perverse tone didn’t escape your ears, and you burned with shame.

“Y-yes…” you were too eager to share. “Too many times…”

You whimpered when his finger finally entered your virgin hole, the walls squeezing and burning uncomfortably despite your arousal. His thrusts became slow for your sake, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He distracted you with more talk, “Do you think I’ve done the same?”

You gulped. “I hope so.”

“I’ll let you know I’m perhaps worse than you. I shouldn’t be this way, if I have many more things to worry about.” You were so drunk by his words you didn’t register second finger slipping in. “But you had to ruin that streak of order. And now, I can no longer have myself back until I’ve conquered you and sated myself.”

You moaned at his words, the reciprocated sentiment making you feel most exhilarated. It was beautiful how very specific desires could belong to two people at the same time, and even more when two of these people had a change to meet… The fate, or the puppet play by the hand of heavens above?

The pleasure was gnawing at your insides, and you were humping your hips against his hand fervently. “Ayato…”

He was growing harder and harder everytime you uttered his name. “Is too much…” you mewled, unused to such bliss. You felt good when touching yourself, but it’d never be anywhere near good in the greatness of the object of your fantasies pleasuring you.

“But isn’t it liberating too?” he whispered and with more jerks, he was between your thighs, suckling on your clit as he kept thrusting the fingers in. “No, no, no!” Too sensitive, you tried to escape the torture on your nerves, but he didn’t let you break his sequence of torment.

“Let it go. You still have a lot ahead of you, and you are a deserving recipient of your first pleasure being with me,” he said among the slurps of your wetness.

He was too cruel and unnerved by your whines, that you had no choice but to come on his fingers, almost hitting your head against the pillow below from how terribly the crash shook you. Your walls pulsed in and out on his fingers, and he held you tightly to himself, needing to feel the tremors of your body to bury the physicality of your unraveling deep into his mind in sake of remembrance and worship.

“Beautiful…” he whispered, and above you again, he kissed your lips and spread your taste, enjoying how messy you’ve become with technique after the numbing pleasure — no longer inexperienced, but too incoherent to be proper in opposition.

“Now,” he exclaimed and slowly pulled you up to be sitting again. “I need you to help me too.”

Your mind’s haze cleared upon his words, additionally when seeing him undress himself. “What? You don’t mean…” You were more panicked when seeing him reveal his cock — all hard and leaking already. He wasn’t that thick, rewarded with length instead, yet to a virgin like you any size would be worrying.

“You need to, if you don’t want me to leave you too sore. My stamina might be better than yours.”

You knew what he meant. It wasn’t a matter of getting him ready and hard, but of making him come sooner so he doesn’t fuck your unused body for too long for you to handle.

“I’m… I haven’t done that either… I don’t think I can…” The though of having him in your mouth was another unclaimed territory for you, and it didn’t sound pleasant either.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you. You don’t have to do too much. You’re not going to make this one sided either, are you? I’m trying so hard for you here.”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to make you guilty or willing, but you eventually gave in, your mind going down to possibilities of witnessing his reactions. You needed to drive that man crazy and regain your control. Seeing your further silence be took as agreement, Ayato stood up, and looked at you expectantly.

You crawled forward and sat on your knees, before his cock was grabbed by your hand, virgin in its hold as well. It felt weird to feel his manliness — it was hard, but the skin of it was thin and smooth, and that part of his body felt warmer even than his lips. “Use your saliva,” he instructed to which you, shyly with some opposition at the prospect of tasting a thing on your tongue, let some saliva drip from your mouth onto his tip. You could tell he was neuralgic in this area when he shuddered. “Good… now, stroke me a little.”

“Uh…” your hand went up and down. You weren’t entirely clueless about your moves, having read many erotic stories, so you tried to translate your knowledge into reality; even if the confrontation was realistically awkward. “Yes,” his voice was raspy, the hold you had over his pleasure creeping into his tone. “You should suck on the tip.”

You felt nervous, as having him in your mouth carried a connotation of choking or even vomiting, yet the incentive to ruin him pushed you to envelope your lips around and suckled on tip as if on a candy.

You yelped when his hand grabbed onto your hair, tugging on it painfully. “Just… just like that…” he exhaled. The view on the top of your head was glorious to him, witnessing your form on your knees, as if you were worshiping him, and solidifying the idea of you being owned by him.

Your discomfort was bigger when he began to guide your head downward, his cock filling your mouth and almost hitting your throat. “Breathe through your nose. I won’t let you suffocate,” he reassured after having noticed your chest’s elevation.

Hearing the promise, you started to bop your head down and up on your own, keeping your lips pressed inside so you shouldn’t hurt him with your teeth. The more of it, you fell into the smooth continual of your movements, focused only on how full your mouth was and the gamy taste in it. Ayato was here, above you, and all over you.

Ayato’s chest stung with a prickles of jealousy, worried you’ve done something like this before, you a bit too natural at this; but relaxed when noticing the small tears and uncertainty on your face still lingering. In exchange, he was overjoyed with pride at your compliance, and stroked your head in praise.

His favorite guilty pleasure, so eager to pleasure him and drunk on him, her eyes lidded heavily more and more with every take of his cock — thinking of him only, as she should.

“You’re rather good at this…” believing you could be used to bigger means, he gently filled your mouth more until you gagged alarmingly too hard; with that, your lips tightened on him and he let out a choke himself. He let you pull away, finding odd pleasure at your struggle in form of a cough. He didn’t want you to suffocate, but you pushing yourself through discomfort for his sake was rewarding, if reminding you’d be here no matter what happens; or rather, no matter what he does to you. “Okay, you probably can’t take more for now…” neither could he, “We’ll save teaching you how to pleasure me for another time.”

You trembled with both anxiety and excitement as he implied this isn’t the last time he’s intimate with you.

Ayato looked at the mess of you he’s made — you were breathing heavily, spit was all over your face, some submissiveness has intruded your eyes already; and with the way you squeezed your legs, you surely weren’t acting ignorant about being guilty.

“All these late night fantasies are about to become reality, my dear,” he announced, and pushed you down to his futon with a press of his hand against your shoulder. The zenith of your anxiety now — you were going to have your virginity taken, or rather stolen, and experience Ayato taking you. Maybe it’d hurt. Maybe it wouldn’t feel good at all. Maybe you would see yourself as a completely different person afterwards.

“Ayato…” you said, your tone nervous.

“Hush. I said I’ll be gentle, didn’t I? As possibly as I can be.” Perhaps not a promise at all, then.

Your breath hitched when he grabbed your legs and placed them on the side of his hips, and you rested your hands onto his shoulders. He looked so victorious yet beautiful over you, as if he was the one to finally bastardize you enough to reveal anything bad you’ve hidden about yourself that made him bad too, and make it a new you. A vixen of a woman, a beast of a man, finally coming together and destroying each other until there’s nothing left to gnaw at.

With a last stroke of your cheek, Ayato grabbed his cock and smeared the tip against your wetness. You gasped and you squirmed, when being prodded like this was scraping your nerves.

It was just a tip inside that got you trashing, the stretching pressure on the skin of your hole unpleasant, and he had to hold you down.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He kept fucking the entrance like this. Only when you stopped moving and were so whiny and needy, he pushed inside in one move until you hugged the half of him.

Your feet flailed on his sides and your fingers dug into his shoulders painfully, overwhelmed by the stretch not so hurtful but for sure burning. Ayato cursed under his breath, feeling tortured by how tightly you squeezed on him. He wasn’t so sure of his stamina anymore.

He let you both adjust, kissing your neck and praising you against your ear, “We’re finally connected in a way no one can steal from us. You’re doing so good, giving yourself to me…”

The first mention of you giving yourself, you were confused about the wording, yet now, the second time, it finally clicked in your mind — you were giving yourself as he said, because you’ve been burdened with the need to have this happen to you for ages. You wanted him to strip you, and you let him do it willingly by accepting these affections as you enjoying and craving them; the body screaming to absorb and keep the traces forever. You wanted to be his, you wanted him to darken your mind, and now you wanted him in your guts.

He’s been acutely aware of your fetish for him the entire time.

“Please…” here you finally were, accepting what was right and needed to be done. You had no hesitation left, no argument against. Maybe they were never right or logical to the publicity, but you two made your own rules.

The smile appearing on his lips was much more wicked when the moonlight strolled into the room, highlighting the shade of purple you’d never forget — not as dark as a thunder or naku weed, not matching the blue of notorious hydrangeas spread across the estate, nor greyish as purple of a dead person; but the color of the flower you first saw stomped on and miraculously regrown few weeks later, having been felled by the same person who accidentally crushed it.

“Of course.”

Ayato sheathed himself fully inside of you, and after a few more still merciful seconds to let you adjust, he started to fuck you — not make love, if fucking you wasn’t making love itself. Not fast, not hard, but so deep you choked on every thrust, wanting to look at him only — that you did.

The man overtaking every part of your body, his lavender eyes staring into your own and nowhere else, your bodies falling into the same rhythm. You couldn’t even speak, and the heat in your belly was a pure warmth of fireplace, no longer intrusive, but as harmful if burn too intensely.

As he sped up, your hips joined, the virgin no longer virgin but a woman wanting to be consumed this way everyday.

Gentleness was long forgotten too, and he still didn’t lie — he was gentle, at first, if now no one wanted this mercy anymore. Gentleness was the thing to harm you, if you weren’t born wanting compassion. His hands grabbed your hips to console himself, as he leaned down to kiss you like a joke of a man you’ve made him to be, and you obliged by letting him tangle the tongue in.

You were limp when he flipped you over onto your belly and mounted you by lying his body heavily on top of yours. You were trapped yet didn’t want to escape, forever kept being reopened by his cock, and only taking and taking until his size was engraved in you for eternities.

“Ayato…” you cried out, your nails scratching at the mats outside of the futon to escape, not as lush as the pleasure in your already sore walls, forced to be stretched and shaped into a man’s size for the first time.

The hand looking for anything to hold onto was pinned down by his, before its fingers entangled with yours to connect. His other hand, it gathered your hair and arched your neck back, for him to violently bite into it. You writhed in pain, you were sure his teeth tore enough to make you bleed, and he didn’t let you go until the ache turned into another pleasure to code in your body.

He licked the wound, the old tale of saliva having healing properties only ready to infect, and then kissed it — only he could hurt you, only to then then fix you, so you’re never at peace and think of him as not yours. How can Ayato call himself a lover if he wasn’t dual in his treatment with you — if hurting you, he’s honest and just like you; if treating the hurt, he’s devoted and loving to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, emphasizing with the further tug on your hair, your head forced to the side and closer to be face to face. “Yes,” you choked out. “Good.” And he kissed you to soothe the pain.

Withdrawing, his eyes fell on the swollen mark on your skin with a delighted sigh. He then looked at you, staring into his eyes with trust and need, and your mouth spilled gratitude in form of moans as he kept fucking you.

With the continuous grip on your hair, he now pounded into you, his hips plush against your ass. His cock was hating and hurting you; while his face loved, drowned in pride for you. “You’re taking me so well, I’m sure you can take some more, can’t you?” he spoke glued to your expression, his lover away in the space she’s created in her head for only him and her.

“Yes. Please, Ayato, I need it…” you begged, wetting the pillow with your tears; ones he needed to make overflow so he can be sure he’s ruined you.

He let your head hit the pillow, the hand previously in your hair now slapping your bottom, adding to the sting of his thrusts. When you cried out in pain, your mouth was gagged with his fingers ordering you to suck on them. The next, cruel spank, the fingers were bitten to blood leaving its taste on your tongue. Ayato’s gasp of pain caused him to hasten his pace, and he had to punish you with hit again when you clenched around him as if in chase of making a tomfoolery of his being — he now was no better than you, or any other man on this continent.

The fight between you two continued until he kidnapped you to lie on your side. Ayato’s arms wrapped around your torso, one so high it almost choked you, and with you caged like this, he brought your body back and forth onto his dick to split you further.

Your head lolled limply back onto his shoulder, and the hand on the lower level slipped between your thighs to rub your bud wet so much his finger almost slipped away. You trashed when the other hand played with your nipple — futile when Ayato kept you immobilized in his arms.

Your body was on fire when he’s decided to break you with mad kisses on your neck as the last necessary step, the kettle of fish of different sensations ruling your body.

“You wriggle so much when it cannot be that bad if you only feel pleasure, hm?” he teased with a bite on your earlobe, and you moaned loud. Of course he was no better than you — barely withholding his grunts and own moans — but he wanted you to lose the last remains of sanity first before he’d let himself feel the full pleasure, needing to guide you to the final acceptance. You were so tight, threatening to keep him inside every time he pulled out, and incredibly hot in your insides the ecstasy for his cock was heightened.

“No…” you disagreed. It wasn’t just feeling good; you were also falling and sinking deep into the unknown of what another human can provide if they get you, and you were scared for it to end now that you’ve got the taste. The real fear, however, was even in how overwhelming the transition was. “It’s terrible.”

“Terrible?” he asked through gritted teeth, and snapped his hips against your thighs hard. His arms tightened on you and his clit stimulus was relentless. “I guess I haven’t made you scream hard enough.”

Your hands beat at his forearms, your feet kicked at his legs behind yours when he took on an inhumane pace and depth, and he only continued fucking you so hard you thought you were going to die. The blood pressure was spiked enough to make you dizzy and your body flying light, as the overstimulation was a sign of something awful coming.

The approaching orgasm shook your body violently, and the high pitched scream you let out was barely heard by your own ringing ears muffled with white noise. His comment was inaudible too, “You’re finally where you should be.”

When you became a cotton of body in his arms, exhausted by the unleashed demise, you weren’t given a moment of respite. Ayato fucked you through your climax, ignoring your sobs as he chased the high himself.

“You’re feeling unreal… yet, you are real and mine...” he cursed, his hands squeezing your flesh on thighs and stomach, the touch painful on your sensitive body. “I’m never letting you go…”

His legs convulsed and tensed up when he was right there, and you still kept pulsing around him from your own peak.

He clicked his tongue as he had to pull out last second, not allowed to produce a child out of wedlock; which didn’t mean he’d let his seed go to waste. His cum landed between your thighs, him imagining it’s the result of it leaking out after it was implanted inside of you.

Seconds dragged as he held you back against his chest, the breaths becoming slower and turning into exhaustion as you made your descent. Even more time you needed to arrange everything that happened into your head, and comprehend it.

Ayato has taken your virginity. Ayato is obsessed with you. Ayato is going to make you his wife. You wondered what title this story should earn.

You didn’t feel scared anymore.

You shuddered when he pulled away his sticky body from yours, and sighed when he turned you around to face him. His face was red, redder than you’d ever see, and he looked as if in love with you if it wasn’t for the lilac of his eyes now almost black with the pupils blown in mischief.

No, he was in love with you. It just wasn’t the only association towards you, if he was as obsessed.

“You did well. Perhaps too well for a virgin, that it was proven difficult for me to control myself,” he said softly, and grabbed your hand to kiss.

“You didn’t control yourself at all,” you pointed out, deadpanning.

Ayato chuckled. “Yes, but as I said, you took this treatment so well. You didn’t give me a reason to be delicate.”

“So it’s my fault?” you raised your brow, and he gently bit on your fingertip.

“It’s no one’s fault. You, instead, enjoyed yourself,” he teased and brought you tight-knit against his chest, his hands massaging flesh in apology and soothe.

“As much as I have enjoyed you,” he said in a lower tone, slowly growing serious. “But, don’t let this event go to waste. I hope you understand the meaning behind it, and that you don’t dare to think I was joking about any of my intensions towards you.”

“You mean the marriage…” you sighed. “But I don’t want to give up on writing just so I could marry you.” You assumed this profession would be banned for you if you were to marry him. You didn’t say yes either, no matter if Ayato wouldn’t withdraw at your rejection.

“I’ve never said that you’d have to abandon writing. You can continue your work, at least under an anonymous name.”

“I’ve never said yes to your marriage proposal either,” you rebutted. His grip tightened on you and you reveled in short-lived power over him, finding some new part of yourself that wanted to ruin, abuse, provoke and torment too — as a sign of devotion.

“You didn’t have to. Not only am I the only man who could handle you, you also want me. Marriage is just a document to keep other suitors away from me… and you too, should you become too famous and have an excess of the male fans.”

“As if you’d let them near me,” you taunted, and he looked at you with no reciprocated enthusiasm. “You’re right I wouldn’t.”

“I still don’t have to say yes to you. I don’t think I ever was truly insane, only when near you. You’re not good for my health, Ayato.”

“As if you ever cared,” now it was his turn to taunt, with the cheeky smile on his handsome face. “I’m starting to pity my own admirers that might get in your way one day, if what they will face is this scary woman, doubtedly willing to share...”

To that, the exertion didn’t stop you from landing your punishment. “I’m not letting you have me so easily, Ayato,” you exclaimed and pinned him under you, kissing him with fervor and rage, despite his hands still so soft and gentle on you so you don’t think he’s been a brute in means unwanted by you.

You couldn’t fuck him, sadly; not when your body was in need of recovery. Which didn’t mean there weren’t other ways of getting back at him before you two would have to collapse. Each way as delicious, never making it even between you two as Ayato would decide you were a bit unfair in the extent of your punishment, needing to elevate it back to the equal level — an excuse to keep doing this everyday, so the game never ends, never with a winner as that’d mean an end.

Your life was only about to begin, and when you were the first to relent and fall asleep with the kiss on your still hot forehead, Ayato knew he’s secured his future with you. A future that could be only peaceful, despite the flame that will never go out, as the acceptance of your venture was finally there. Two lovers coming intertwined, living and enriched in each other's darkness.

The flower you were has finally rebloomed, its petals new as darker than ever.

[acexsmhking]

HEY IT'S ME

Toby relationship HC'S but with a F!Reader who's super bug in communication.

Like if Toby has an outburst she'll try to sit down and talk it out, if he's upset at her she'll try to find the source.

But through everything, she's all super loving and never makes any indication to leave because in the end she's madly and deeply in love with Toby

Specifically one of those true crimes fans that once she met him was like "AWOOGA'

Sorry so super specific:(

𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝

(𝗮𝗱𝗷.) 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼

╰┈➤ Communication x Toby Head-canons

Summary: how well does Tobias handle communication and having an expressive/open S/O

Warning(s): Social stunted growth, Mentions of cannibalism, mentions of violence, mental health issues

Tobias is very complicated in how he handles communication, especially after breakdowns

Toby is.. expressive yes.. but not in a very traditional sense

Toby is all for you expressing yourself, he wants to know what you’re thinking 24/7 any problems or any issues

Need something fixed? Want something built? Want anything at all?

He will immediately get on it for you, doesn’t matter what time or day it is.. however he doesn’t handle.. emotions well

When it’s fights (which are very rare given how devoted he is) Tobias can be nasty. And I mean nasty. He can get mean and get mean fast. It’s mostly just himself

((POP him out a tit in the middle of a fight and he will completely become flustered))

It can be increasingly hard to calm him down and actually talk about things. And at most it’s actually just Tobias sobbing and apologizing, he gets scared everytime he gets negatively emotional around you

What if he does to you what he does to other?

Thinking about eating you while fucking is very different feeling than actually possible eating you

When it’s his own bad feelings or doubts he doesn’t say anything. He genuinely doesn’t know how to really communicate these things. Despite how much Tim and Brian handle him, Tobias has been like this for decades his understanding of human life is all very new

He just doesn’t see the point in talking about himself when all he sees himself as is a thing

Hence… Tobias can snap. And when he snaps it can be a lot

While Toby would never.. physically hurt you (not too much) he CAN and WILL throw/smash things around the house or outside

God forbid if he can’t vent out his angry around you. The consequences others have to face is… devastating

All in all, Tobias does genuinely care about you expressing yourself and communicating things. He might have a difficulty understanding concepts or instructions (show him first while explaining) but he will try

DO NOT expect him to handle himself or arguments well. I would suggest not even really trying to ‘teach’ him. Leave that to Tim and Brian

It’s not that.. Tobias really.. means to put you both on different levels it’s just. They understand and know more about Toby and what he is/experiences to be able to safely correct him

As his spouse Tobias sees you not necessarily below him, just you aren’t really qualified

Like getting a dog trainer for your dog

But you being okay with how.. gruesome Toby is? Yeah that turns him on especially if you help him lead people into the woods for him to kill/eat??

Oh his sweet darling <3

Toby loves how you love, and he always appreciates it. Just.. when he’s irritated don’t try talking things out. Just hold him maybe a few kisses then just let him be

[dialecticaldimensions]

Hello to any x files fans out there, I think I am finally ready to start my season 8 journey. Had to pause because I knew what was coming and as someone that was freshly experiencing grief about a year ago, I could not bring myself to continue… 

But!!! After a year of religiously consuming fanfic and reading many many msr/x files think pieces (shout out to @randomfoggytiger @thursdayinspace & @deathsbestgirl, I love scrolling your blogs & reading all of your thoughts!!) and also living vicariously through juni’s (mulders-too-large-shirt, not gonna tag her in case this is spoils something about s8) live blogging, I think I am finally ready to jump back in. 

I am so looking forward to the episodes I haven’t watched (despite already being irked with some plot lines), but I do like to watch source material for myself!! And the x files is truly some source material!!

For a show that was written in the 90s, the way I am sooooo drawn to Scully as a complex,well-rounded female character that I think even the more modern shows sometimes fail to fully capture. Because she’s just so complex and layered and multi dimensional in a way that I relate to and in the way that I see so many of the women in my own life. 

The way Scully is determined and strong and wants to be a boss-ass bitch, but is still sooo kind and empathetic and soft and girly (even though I think she wouldn’t really like to be associated with that term). 

Ugh, just ugh!!! As someone who also constantly struggles with wanting to be feminine and also wanting to be taken seriously!! I get it!! I get her!!! And gillian played this really well imo. There is so much depth to the way scully is portrayed even in times of shitty writing or less than compelling plot points. I have never been so drawn into a female character the way I have with her! 

And Mulder, my beloved. Definitely one of my all-time favourite male characters. He really is very kind and always willing to empathize with the victim. And the way he carries everything that happened with samantha and wraps it in layers and layers of dumb-ass humour, collapsing into his work and falling into his need to save everyone and everything around him. 

What I really like is how he is sooo determined to make the world better in the ways he knows how. And god, the way he claims the need to not trust anyone and be suspicious and question everything but never actually does that at some critical moments!! Because he so badly wants to believe in the goodness of people and wants to believe that he is worth the help, that they see what he’s fighting for and are willing to fight that fight. I want to scream about this so often. There is so much beauty in the subtle vulnerabilities of Mulder’s character and the way that he carries all that!! Again shout out to david for really playing to that in how he acts as Mulder. 

And then you put these two complex, flawed, unhinged individuals together and I have never known peace since!!! In the absolute best way. I have to say in the 15 years of being involved in a whole range of fandoms, I have never been quite as taken with a ship as I have been with msr. The way they fall into each other truly has me clutching at my heart. 

Because it really really is a meeting of minds and values and essences and an inherent understanding of what it means to exist in this world. They both have their own journey with that last one, but I think the way they move through that journey is soooo complementary to each other and that they could have only undertaken that journey once they met. 

… did not mean for this to be an essay haha, but this is what happens when I get started. This was mostly just a post to say if anyone wants to keep me company as I navigate s8 onwards, it would be v v welcomed! Periodic thought posts on the episodes will show up eventually ✨👽🛸

[foibles-fables]

Hey Foibs! Saw your reblog on Asley Willians >.> I wanted to ask more about it. But I am a bit afraid that I just started playing Mass Effect and don't want any spoilers. But isn't she..... a bit too much huh... racist? Does it get better over time? I mean, she is such a badass :~ but the racist part is totally a turn-down for me.

I'm going to start with a general statement and then work my way to your specific questions: Ashley Williams's character arc over the trilogy is an absolutely fantastic one--IMO, it's the most powerful. It's subtle on the surface, but if you know what you're looking for, it hits hard. For that reason she's my Femshep's unbroken canon LI, even if it's only in my head.

As for your specific questions re: racism/spacism--I do encourage some re-examining there. Since I'm not sure how far you are in the game and don't want to spoil anything, I'm going to keep my comments on this specific post on the vaguer side. However, I'll definitely refer you to @cannot-rest's awesome Spacism Debunker masterpost for when you get a little farther in the game/trilogy, as well as this video analysis of her character.

Is Ashley's attitude at the beginning of ME1 a positive one, or presented in a good light? No. From the jump it's the antithesis of what the series eventually has to say about unity. But then, isn't the council's hemming and hawing attitude towards humanity also that same antithesis? So are comments made by Wrex, Garrus, Mordin--and especially when the latter two ARE members of actual dominant sociopolitical powers in the galaxy. Of which humans are not, and have been labeled as "aggressive" as a side effect of the First Contact War debacle.

And besides--doesn't a character need a flaw from which to grow?

To that I'll add: Ashley's flaw isn't "she's racist." That's Pressley. It's a lack of self-esteem brought on by her family baggage--which, when taken into consideration, puts her mistrusting attitudes into perspective. It doesn't make them right, but it makes them make sense. Especially considering that her main comments re: not trusting the others on the Normandy are very much security/military concerns. Which, again, tie into her family history and how it's impacted her until present day.

(it's already known that the "aliens from the animals" line is bugged dialogue. And that the "throwing your dog at a bear" metaphor has been misinterpreted by fans. See the link above for delineations of that.)

I also encourage comparing her attitudes to the ACTUAL anti-alien/human supremacy folks: Pressley, the Terra Firma party (to whom she reacts with disgust), and another organization that will become important in ME2 (to whom she reacts with even more disgust).

All in all, Ashley is a phenomenal and flawed character with a fantastic throughline on her arc, and is also widely (if not understandably) misinterpreted, and it makes me really sad that so many folks write her off from the opening moments of the first game.

[bagels-and-cream-cheese333]

MUST rant about the disaster duo stuff for a second.

it’s prolly a fandom hot take that I DO NOT like fanon disaster duo. like, at all. obviously these characters are just dolls that people get to play around with and make their own stories with, and I love people’s creativity!! I think it’s very cool that people are so invested in these characters and honestly the stories people make with their whole “twin” thing is mind blowing. Poetic, even.

buuuut at a certain point, it just feels like poeple are stretching leo and Donnie’s characters into something they definitely weren’t originally, you know? because SO MUCH of the content I see of them is sickening codependency. and like I get if you think it’s cute to see Leo and Donnie being close twins, but I mean… I’m praying that y’all know that outside of your story, they are DEFINITELY not that close. I mean they’re brothers so they obviously love eachother a lot. But the way I see them characterized sometimes pisses me off.

this kinda stems back to my fanon leo mischaracterization post, but so much of what I see in the fandom is “Leo and Donnie this!” “Leo and Donnie that!” while mischaracterizing them in a way that also somehow disrespects and disregards their connections with every single other character! Its insane! Pretty much everything I see about them is something happening to one of the “twins” and the other being really broken about it and Mikey and Raph acting as nothing more than therapists who “simply cannot understand the level of twinship Leo and Donnie have with eachother!!”. sometimes it borderlines making Mikey and Raph and brothers which I do NOT stand for. (also note that Mikey and Raph are more often than not being written by people who have NO GRASP on how their characters/minds work, and leave them as empty husks of a turtle. even if a character isn’t your favorite, the least you can do for your audience is learn how to write them.)

aaaaaand here is where we get to thing that inspired this post to begin with. The Twin Thing™. if you’ve noticed during this I’ve refrained from calling them twins without the necessary quotation marks, and that’s because I’m not going to because I don’t think they’re twins. (Which is hella petty, but I’m gonna do it anyway.) It’s pretty much canon at this point that Leo and Donnie are twins, and somehow they have come to a mutual agreement on this. This is….. uh in the nicest way possible, troublingly out of character? Seeing eachother as twins and calling eachother so possesses a level of self reflection, self consciousness, and emotional intelligence neither of them quite possess, especially at the young ages I see them headcanoned as telling eachother about their twin stuff. I guess I kind of understand people seeing two characters who are similar in height, stature, shape, and who bicker constantly and thought “wow, definitely twins right there!” But really, aside from them both being fan-favorites, there is like. Absolutely no basis for them being twins. I’m pretty sure people only saw two characters they liked separately and thought “huh. wouldnt it be cool if they were like super duper close?” which I guess.. yeah? A lot of the stuff I see about them is super touching and is pretty decently written, but a lot of it seems fundamentally empty because I know these characters would never act this way because they wouldn’t see eachother as twins, nor would they have the twin senses everyone’s talking about. Honestly, in the show, they constantly bicker, and aren’t really that close! The one Leo n Donnie centric episode we have is them competing agaisnt eachother. Not to say that siblings who are competitive can’t love eachother, because they obviously love eachother to the moon and back. But they wouldn’t love eachother more than they love their other brothers.

if you’re asking my honest and humble opinion? Leo and Raph are the true twins in ROTTMNT. The magnetic twins partnership has a lot of hints alluding to this in the show, like Leo being the only one to care when Raph is missing in Man Vs. Sewer for example (something i’m sure that disaster duo fans would use as hard evidence for them being twins if Raph was Donnie.) But in the MOVIE? Oh don’t get me STARTED. Them both sacrificing themselves to save the other? Pure gold (and pure twin behavior if you ask me.) The Kraang Raph and Leo fight scene? LOOK AT LEO’S FACE. LEO’S FACE IS THE FACE OF SOMEONE WHO’S HAVING TO FIGHT HIS TWIN, THE TWIN HE’S BEEN AVOIDING AND MAKING OUT TO BE HIS ENEMY FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS. And in the Bad Future, when Leo wears RAPH’S ARM for a prosthetic once he’s dead?? Literal fan behavior dude. It’s wild. Also, in all of the other iterations I’ve watched, I’ve considered Raph and Leo to be the twins. Why should it be different in rise? @somethin-strange-27 said it perfectly, actually. “They both have the same issues while desperately wanting the other be normal and okay.” that pretty much summarizes the movie. And I can hear the angry mob already, “oh no! but they can’t be twins! they’re both soooo different, they can’t be biological twins!” Well, in almost every fanwork i’ve seen about the disaster duo, being twins is more of a state of mind rather than them being “biological” twins. Them being twins hits home for me more than any random pairing of two popular characters does because they mirror eachother MUCH more closely than leo and donnie.

my final issue with them is that all the disaster twin fans pretty much block out every single other fan of any other duo. It’s been said in @t1atam3ra’s post about the other duos, but there’s so much to the other duos that gets pushed to the side in favor of non-canon and mischaracteristic disaster duo content, meaning that other duos never truly get their chance to shine. Sometimes I even see media that steals rare moments from other duos and makes it disaster focused, which I mean. Sure. Play with your dolls, I guess. Everyone’s entitled to that. But if you’re entitled to do that I’m entitled to feel atleast a little angry about it.

And that concludes my rant. If you actually read all of this then I applaud you. Feel free to DM me if you wanna hear more (surprisingly I could’ve gone on LONGER, but I cut some of it out for convenience’s sake. (Especially if you wanna hear more about how the fandom disrespects raph and Mikey, mostly raph.)) if you disagree then you can just block me or scroll lmao, I definitely don’t expect everyone to like this take.

also note, I DO NOT hate the disaster duo. It’s very fun and chaotic and evil and bickery and I love it. I only have a distaste for the large majority of interpretations of their relationship. Anyways that’s it

[solarwynd]

I think this was inevitable, I mean the comparisons not just between the fans, but between the members themselves. And the whole OT7 discourse sounds good in theory but realistically speaking is impossible for all of them to receive the same results. Especially because the company itself decided to push one as the solo breakout member, and that act by itself caused a very big fracture in the fandom that armys still don't want to face. It also caused Jimin's fanbase to grow and double down on their efforts to make a statement, thus making this fracture even bigger. Because if none of the sabotage and neglect that we experienced with Face had happened, maybe I would still be an army trying to equally give my time, effort and money to all the projects. But that wasn't the case and things changed from that moment on for many of us.

That statement did seem very guilt trippy and even if it works, it's not a sustainable way to grow an audience. You can't just use pity to make people support you all the time. Of course it's not just a speech, he's also now working with mr. mini bike because him and bang pd are the kind of people who would say: we have the formula you want it? just come and get it. And it's just doing something similar to what jk did because those men don't have a creative single bone in their body and don't actually know how to create something unique and gag worthy that it's also tailor-made for the artist. They just copy paste and give you the connections, the appearances and the remixes and call it a day. I'm still not sure what level of promotions he will get, because Jk will be their main focus no matter what, so anyone else will only get a portion. But once again, they seem to forget what made BTS appealing to begin with, and it wasn't any of that.

They literally have Jimin right there, but as the other anon said, everyone knows that what he achieved wasn't because of a formula, it's simply because of what he is as an artist and as a person. And you can't copy that, plus it's not what the company has brainwashed them to think. So the only answer left for them is trying to replicate what worked for others, use their resources and beg, while lowkey harboring resentment if it doesn't happen because that's how it feels. And they know Jimin's success happened with minimal label support so it makes it even harder for them to understand what's not clicking.

.🎯

[princess-charlie-of-hell]

what will always come off as funny to me is the fact there's a lot of wierdly romantic visuals and statements with Charlie and Alastor [pink sparkles in the pilot, the lines of mimzy and Rosie about Alastor's relationship with Charlie, heart in the middle of Alastor and Charlie twice(heart pillow in the bedroom, heart design between their photos in the Vee tower)] but people will ask "why would you ship Charlastor! They have no chemistry!" Like, what?? No chemistry?? The whole show was supposed to be built on their platonic chemistry at least I dunno what to tell you

Charlastor is practically chock full of strange details that in another show it's foreshadowing them to be a couple but a lot of fans who hate that ship would proceed to look at those two radio ships with random clips and say it's hints that it's becoming canon from the most unrelated thing ever. I'm not saying they're not allowed to examine scenes for any potential element of their ship happening, it's the fact that a lot of those shippers practically believe it's canon from just those "hints" alone and bully other people if they ever say otherwise. that hypocrisy is what I find amusing

Agree, for a ship that isn't supposed to become canon there are a lot of clues who say otherwise. Like them dancing in the pilot together has the same pink sparkle effect we see in oh millie ,it looks to me like they are in love in this scene

And like Anon said how often hearts are Shown between Charlie and Alastor especially that it already happened twice in eight episodes , if it were any other show then I would think that it foreshadows them ending Up together

Also that the scene where Alastor lays next to Charlie in Vaggie's place after her and Charlie had a fight which could potentially end their relationship... I like Chaggie but this definitely looks like the show wants to imply that Charlastor is end game

People saying that Charlastor has no chemistry... sorry but have they watched the show with closet eyes?!Anon said perfectly that the show is built on their chemistry ,in the end they are the leads, not Lucifer and Alastor or Vaggie and Charlie but Charlie and Alastor

Especially in comparison to Radiost@tic and Radio@pple not to hate on the ships but the only interaction Alastor had with Vox and Lucifer were him bickering and fighting with them. I honestly understand the appeal from Vox x Alastor as Vivzepop stated their history is sad and complicated and that they were at least friends once

But Alastor x Lucifer? The only thing they have in common right now is Charlie and nothing more really. Like Radio@pple is the ship which makes least sense for them in my opinion.

It is definitely okay when people search for clues that their ships could potentially be canon,it is one of the things which makes fandoms fun. But people taking it too seriously and claiming RA/RS will be Canon because of this hints while hating it when people do the same with Charlastor, is really just hypocrisy

Like Charlie and Alastor will have a moment where they get closer and he actually opens a bit up to her are being ignored but Alastor looking a millisecond without hate at Lucifer means they are in love?

[sitehound]

Ermmm big shut up Haju moment but u know what? If it helps anyone I want to say it.

You just need to be a little crazy and not care about an audience. Social media is a drug and a poison and it’s not uncommon for me to leave it for years at a time and only come back when I’ve found a muse I want to write on a public platform again. I hadn’t roleplayed in three years or so when I returned to twitter rp with Quanxi from CSM and I wasn’t using social media again for about a year before I accepted a friend’s invite to tumblr then brought Hotaru here, and eventually Gumi.

That’s all to say that I bring this up because social media manufactures not only addiction to usage, but validation, and sometimes the validation disparity between male and female muses can feel like a gulf.

With writing women in general, I firmly believe you need to do whatever you want forever because even if you feel this gulf of engagement, your woman matters to another woman. Granted, women can often be competitive with each other and resent each other, and that’s its own conversation about internalized misogyny and the unfortunate belief online that one person’s success detracts from another, but that’s all to say that your woman does matter to another woman. And that’s enough to keep writing women, in my opinion.

There are a lot of female OCs on my dash I’m just genuinely relieved to see. I come from twitter rp that had a violent culture of misogyny and oc hating. Your women were measured on how “waifu” or “mommy dommy” they were that every day logging in I was BOXING to keep Gumi out of there and some people would just shit talk OCs in general.

Tumblr isn’t perfect, by any means, but please understand that if you write women in general, I love to see it, but the fact that people are writing Sapphic stuff too is also important to me. You never know who is going to benefit from your work and often the fans of them are going to be a bit quiet but they’re out there. Which is why I advocate for doing whatever you want because your audience does exist and it’s just a matter of writing authentically and passionately

I’m losing the plot of what I’m saying I guess it’s more just me grabbing the shoulders of the dash like please keep writing women and don’t get discouraged but also don’t worry about the engagement and numbers because it’ll come when you stick to your guns and refine your craft and keep creating authentically.

But if it’s also any reassurance: sometimes it’s less to do with gender and more themes and disposition. Some people write with Hotaru more than they do Gumi, and some people write with Gumi more than they do Hotaru. Yes, gender is a factor, but the themes and personality also play a part and it doesn’t reflect poorly on what you make, but it’s just a reflection of either your partner’s tastes or the chemistry between muses.

Ummm I rambled but. Kisses your forehead. Do what you want forever and worry about optics and numbers and engagement later. You need to love what you do and drown out the rest. Roleplay is so wonderful to me because it’s experimental without the expectation of publication or review.

And, again, there’s probably a woman who is a fan of your woman and even if she doesn’t say so, she’s out there. And I also think it’s just valuable and cathartic to craft the kinds of things you’d like to see.

That’s my old lady who was online at too formative an age rant but I can’t stress enough how creating is about doing whatever you want forever. I repeat it ad nauseam but please the world is burning create whatever art you want and write the type of women you’d like to see or resonates with you because you could die at any moment and those ideas will die with you.

[ilikekidsshows]

reading the things that have been said here and by literally every ml critic about how adrien and every other victim of abuse or anything else really in this show is just ignored made me think about how people have been saying that adrien should have been the main character. and i can see where they're coming from because like marinette is so irrelevant to all the plot points that actually matter in terms of gabriel's whole thing. i really do want ml to be a girl power superhero/magical girl show where the main character is a poc female but ml is just not that show.

marinette at this point is the main character because the narrative says she is. a lot of the things that happened, even way back in s1, happened because marinette kept inserting herself into things. she got to be the one to have the final fight with hawkmoth AND have that final conversation with gabriel even when they like barely spoke to each other and there's literally nothing to their relationship besides the fact that she's dating his son and also the obligatory hero-villain connection. like she's so disconnected from the actual heart of the original plot that they had to keep forcably shoving her in there to make her relevant in her own show, which keeps making her look like an annoying, jealous stalker who doesn't care about anything but her own desires, comfort, and happiness

just like, when you have a considerable amount of fans that say not even that they want him to have a spin off series where he deals with his own shit, but that adrien should be the main character of the main series because it would make so much more sense, it doesn't matter whether they're right to want that or not, what matters is that clearly the writing got fucked up somewhere for them to even consider it seriously.

---

It's not only that Marinette isn't plot-important enough to justify her bloated protagonist status. The fact of the matter is that Marinette just doesn't have enough to contribute as a fictional person to justify her protagonist status even in the civilian plots she gets shoehorned into. Part of this is the "lesson of the day" aspect of the show, where Marinette's contributions to the plots will have her do something blatantly insensitive, selfish or downright awful to someone when she gets involved in things that are none of her business, all so that the writers can turn that into a lesson that they then don't have the decency to commit to. The writers are too busy throwing her a pity party for her little oopsies that should totally not reflect on her character even when it's the very core of the character and the way she operates.

For all Marinette is supposed to be a kind, intelligent and heroic person, we just don't see her making the lives of the people around her better the way you'd expect from someone called "everyday Ladybug" once upon a time, or even the way you'd expect any halfway decent teen hero protagonist to. Like, would it kill the writers to write more than one or two episodes where someone actually asks Marinette for help with something and then at least Marinette's well-meaning but misguided attempts to help wouldn't be so self-centered? No wait, them asking for help instead of merely receiving it at Marinette's decision would give them too much agency and we can't have that in the puppet theatre!

Basically, the Miraculous writers are so bad at their job that the series actively suffers from Marinette, as she is being written, being the protagonist. Like, one of the first things I said about 'Sublimation' was something along the lines of: “I have no faith in these writers' ability to tackle the topic of physical disability from the perspective of their coddled, able-bodied protagonist,” not because I thought able-bodied kids couldn't learn understanding alongside an able-bodied protagonist, but because I knew the writers always consider Marinette's comfort paramount. Because Marinette's comfort is paramount, abuse victims and disabled characters are expected to cater to her if they're supposed to be seen as “good”.

As it stands, Marinette is so high-maintenance that it doesn't matter what anyone else is dealing with, Marinette being uncomfortable with them having needs is more important to the writers than those needs every single time. Like, Kim Possible, twenty years ago, had an episode where Kim was uncomfortable around a kid who needed a wheelchair, and the lesson of the episode was that it wasn't about her, so she just had to get over herself. Miraculous would never, and that's the problem. That's why Marinette has such difficulty acting like the good person she theoretically is; she’ll be kind and considerate when it's convenient for her, but, the longer the show goes on, the more the writers make every single moment inconvenient for her. 

I described this issue to my brother, who said it reminded him of how one of Miraculous' pitch phases had a version of Adrien who needed to use a walking stick as a mobility aid. Astruc was told that he couldn't give such a prominent character a physical disability because they were concerned over how hard it can be to depict with sensitivity, and now he's made an episode with a character getting her prosthetic legs broken but it's only relevant because it makes the protagonist who broke them upsette. I think the executives had the right idea when they told Tommy the Clown that they didn't have faith he could depict physical disability with the required sensitivity, even as Astruc's own arrogance insisted otherwise.

[buckleyreid]

I wanna talk about Byler and some of the reasons why I think they'll be endgame. I didn't mean for this to be so long but the only way for me to organize my thoughts is to write them down so alas. I was also gonna leave this in the drafts since I'm not active in the ST fandom but what the hell, here it is anyway.

For context, I’ve always been a casual watcher and, until 3 months ago, I didn’t even ship it because I wasn’t paying attention to the california storyline when I first watched S4 so I kinda thought they were one of those mlm ships that don’t have much canon to back them up.

Then I actually payed attention to their scenes in S4 and like ?? it’s so obvious ??

When I started rooting for Byler, before coming into fandom spaces, it felt so clear that they were working towards them getting together in S5, there was no doubt in my mind. Will could very well just have been gay without having Mike as the object of his affection and yet here we are. We finished S4 with them promising to stick together.

I think things only start getting a little murky and doubt perhaps creeps in because people start overthinking things, and queerbait has been such a problem in entertainment.

I was never a fan of Mike and El as a couple, I thought they were usually at their weakest character wise when they were paired up, Mike in particular kinda loses his purpose imo and he’s just kinda… there? Also, they mostly get separate arcs during the seasons so we don't see them grow and learn things together like we do for other couples (Lucas and Max, Joyce and Hopper, Nancy and Jonathan). S1 they're together but they're not a couple until the end, S2 they were apart, S3 they were in the same group but broken up, S4 mostly apart again.

The stronger argument for Mike and El being the endgame is that they have spent most of the show being a couple. I even think the question of why they’d spend time building them up just to separate them in the last season is a valid one, but how I see it is that they have actually been spending S4 tearing them down, showing us why they don't work and how they simply don't understand each other.

Mike's "I love you" to El should have been a major defining moment for their relationship, it should've eased the tension and yet, their end of the season is her pretty much closing a door in his and Will's faces. If they were going to fix their relationship they would’ve given that last Byler scene to Mike and El and we would’ve seen her confide in him about how much it hurt to lose a battle for the first time. Instead, we have Mike comforting and reassuring Will that they'll succeed together.

All of this is a long winded way to say that, as someone who doesn't care to try and pick up on the little hints and "proof" that Byler will get together (or even believes in someone of that), I totally think they'll be endgame simply due to Will being in love with Mike, since that would be absolutely unnecessary if it's not the groundwork for something else.

[i-creatied-au]

When in Community "Rook's Roost" talked about Rook as a companion, I thought it would be fun to have Rooks chatting with eachother as companions do in the game. So I did few dialogs myself :з I hope "parents" of Rooks will like it (and please, write me, if I got their(Rook's) characters wrong :< I'll be happy to fix my text)

@jb-nonsense - Ogden Thorn

Esha: I'm surprised how many languages you know! It's... Almost four, right?

Ogden: Almost everyone know more than language on our lands, if you think about it.

Esha: Fair enough...

Ogden: I'm sure you know at least three

Esha: Wow! Where did three come from?

Ogden: Trade, Tevene and Qunlat?

Esha: Oh, no, no, I... I know only Trade and Tevene. I was raised by human parents. Plus it's... Where I lived, it was hard to find someone to practice Qunlat with.

Ogden: Oh, right...

______________

@bubblecat-co - Aria de Riva

Esha: So uh, I think I accidentally try your coffee this morning

Aria: Oh? It's alright, but I think we should pick different cups, so we won't confuse them again

Esha: Good idea, but it wasn't my point. I wanted to say... How the hell are you drinking such a strong coffee?!

Aria: What?

Esha: You heard me! It's super strong! How?! I took one sip, thinking it was mine and almost saw the Maker!

Aria: (laughing) You are exaggerating

Esha: No, I'm not! Seriously, how???

___________

@madrabbit014 - Nels Mercar

Nels: Again, I'm so sorry

Esha: Oh, relax. Little punch never hurt anyone.

Nels: You layed on the floor few minutes after the punch...

Esha: (interrupts) I wanted to say, that you don't have to feel sorry for it. I shouldn't have jump on you like that.

Nels: I got scared...

Esha: I just was happy to see other Shadow Dragon. Wanted to say "hi" and maybe hug you... Sorry, I should have approached more calmly

Nels: Oh... It's alright. I love hugs. But yes, maybe warn me next time, so I won't punch you again.

_________

@akuma-misery - Creep

Creep: Esha, are you ok? You're shaking.

Esha: N-no, I-I am f-fine

Creep: ...is it because we are walking near the river?

Esha: (sighs) Y-yeah... I'm not a fan of the w-water

Creep: I can see that. But don't worry, even if you fall in the water, me and Rook will pull you out

Esha: oh... Thank-

Creep: And if you drown, little fishes and other organisms in the water can have a dinner

Esha: ... I'm starting to understand why your name is "Creep". But thanks, now I don't think about the water

Creep: Glad I could help.

___________

@a-mumbling-nerd - Heloise DeRiva

Esha: I wanted to say... You are good dancer

Heloise: How did you know I dance?

Esha: I just heard humming in the music room last night, looked in and saw your dance.

Heloise: Uh...

Esha: Sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy... But your dance was really beautiful, I'm serious

Heloise: Thanks. Do you like to dance?

Esha: Pf, not really. I mean, I know some classic dances, but I can't move as smoothly as you.

Heloise: Well that can't be true. Your moves in the battle smooth and elegant. Fighting with two swords and dancing are not so different, you know?

Esha: Hm... Perhaps you right. So, when can I dance with you? ;)

Heloise: (chuckles) We'll see

_____________

@linposter - Nameless Rook

Esha: Remus? Regulus? Riven?

Nameless: You still trying to figure out my name? It's pointless, you know

Esha: I'm quite stubborn person. Plus, I'm a little tired from calling you out with "HEY, YOU! YES, YOU!"

Nameless: How about you call me... "Amicus"?

Esha: ..."a friend"? C'mon, you can't be serious.

Nameless: So no? And here I thought you consider me a friend...

Esha: Of course, I-! (sighs) You know what? Fine, Amicus. Have it your way.

Amicus: Glad we talked it through, Orana

Esha: Orana? Wait- How do you know my middle name?!

_____________

@picathartidae - Valentine Mercar

Val: You have a lot of scars.

Esha: Hm? Oh, yeah. What, want to know how I got them?

Val: No, no, I wouldn't ask such sensetive topic.

Esha: Eh, I don't mind talking about them. They are showing how strong I am. All attemps to kill me and I'm still standing!

Val: Hah... That's... Good way to look at them, I suppose. I'm surprised you have such view on them-

Esha: And I can make up stories about them to impress girls ;) and some boys

Val: Ah, yes, I thought something is missing