#but in reality everyone wants to be safe and nobody's out to get you.“ ”this is the definition of untreated anxiety.“

[bixels]

i think we should piss on the poor while we're at it too.

I am BEGGING younger drivers. drive carefully. give yourself room. for fuck's sake use your turn signals and don't fucking weave thru traffic. this is not a video game, this is real life and if you get into an accident, you could get killed or kill someone else VERY easily

[takes1]

i would literally sell my soul for more asahi smut(or literally anything tbh)

- (your stuff is actually so good bro. keep it up💯💯)

p.1 asahi getting rough with petite!reader

thank you!!! 😭❤️man, asahi is the most perfect character for some of my fav tropes ughh he's such a sweetie

warnings. nsfw themes. recreational use of alcohol. minors DNI

details. nsfw / fem!reader / manager!reader / short!reader / rough play! fetish / mutual size kink / mutual crushing / playfighting / version of spin the bottle / suggestive wrestling / asahi is a gentleman / inappropriate hard-ons / sitting on asahi's shoulders / houseparty / tipsy!asahi / lightweight!suga / 2.4k words / two-parter, reply to be tagged for next nsfw part

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part two here.

"Aawww-!" Was a chorus of giggly groans throughout the little circle of Karasuno players. Your bottle landed on what was undeniably Asahi.

It filled Daichi's living room, which had been completely rearranged to make room for a friendly fight circle. As their more reserved manager, you decided that you shouldn't partake in a bottle-spinning, play-fighting, testosterone-pumping, sweaty activity at the start of the night.

"That's not a fair fight!"

After a few drinks and watching multiple rounds, you began to adopt an unfounded confidence that you'd be able to win one of these silly wrestling matches.

The name of the game was to keep a volleyball in your arms at the end of a three-minute timer. The trick, for most, was to take on their opponent, tire them out, and turtle over the ball in the last 10 seconds.

It seemed doable from your comfy spot on the couch, when you watched Tanaka prevail over Ennoshita, or the energetic match between Hinata and Nishinoya. When you volunteered to go, you were sure you could take anyone. But Asahi? He was arguably the most formidable opponent.

"Noo, let her fight Yamaguchi!" Suga was beet-red from his one drink, clinging to Daichi at the reveal that your match was against tonight's three-time Champ.

"Yamaguchiii!" He called, giggling, but you shook your head.

You didn't want to fight somebody that wasn't a challenge. If Asahi was #1, then Yamaguchi was #12. Bottom of the bracket.

Asahi glanced around the circle of guys telling him not to, already unsure if he should accept this turn, and to let you try fighting somebody your size, first.

"Hey, hey, now-!" Daichi tried to quiet the uproar and laughter, grinning, "Let her -hhaha- let her decide!"

Now that everyone had their own opinions, somewhat sharing the sentiment that if you fought, you'd suffer a terrible loss, your delusion grew a bit out of proportion.

You stood and passed your drink to Yachi. She gasped and grabbed your shirt as if you were a sacrifice. The room fell quieter, except for the failed, muffled laughter against elbows and hands.

"I'll take him!" You asserted, "And I'll win."

Cheers, applause, noise of all kinds preceded the start of some bets. Asahi grew warm at all the attention, and the pushing, and the teasing. If he lost, nobody would ever let him hear the end of it.

"You just gonna let her talk to you like that, bro?!" Nishinoya called.

He was snickering at his best friend's face, money already on you winning. All Asahi had to do was stand up for the guys to start 'Ooooh'ing, and for you to feel much, much smaller.

You were safe and across the circle, the game hadn't started yet, but as he pulled his hair up into a bun, you started sweating. He won his match with Kageyama by real wrestling, the one with Suga was more of just tiring his opponent out, and the one with Narita was won by brute-forcing the ball out of his grip.

Those weighty arms naturally flexed, moving to grab the elastic from between his teeth to tie it up. After enough jabs from Suga and Daichi, he realized he needed to verbally respond to your challenge.

Lightly buzzed, and not as shy about the reality of the fight, "I'm not goin' easy on you just 'cause you're tiny."

Now you had to beat him. You felt the fury of generations, notably Nishinoya, who was clambering over other guys to join your corner at the clear rage-bait.

"You better beat his ass for that!" He screamed over the delighted whoops and cheers.

Daichi resumed his ref-spot, ball in hand, as you both made it to the center of the circle.

You came up to his chest. He cocked his head down at you, a subtle endearment to his eyes, like he was admiring a small animal-- it was underestimation, an intimidation tactic for sure.

"Good," You muttered, a narrowed gaze at your opponent.

Daichi placed the ball on the floor between you and backed up before starting your time.

Asahi kicked it to the edge of the circle, disinterested in a game of keep-away. It wasn't advantageous to grab now, so you engaged him.

After watching enough of his matches, you knew he went low, first, so you stayed much, much lower.

It hardly served you. Any offensive move to take him just wasn't forceful enough, and you found yourself soon trapped once he got a hold of you.

And once he did, it felt like you would never be able to escape. The way he knew how to move you around was incredible- forget about his power, you couldn't even defend against his technique.

It also didn't take a lot of guessing to know what was compromising, and what wasn't- the team was vocal about what you needed to do, which prevailed mostly as different versions of 'Run away.'

40 seconds in, he readjusted his grip to something twisted, unnatural, and you were about three steps behind when he completed the move and pulled you up.

His arms were around your waist, your legs in the air, as he came up to a kneel.

"Ah!" You squealed, world turned upside-down.

You locked your legs around his shoulders, squeezing hard, but it didn't help you as he stood up onto his feet.

"Oh- shit-!!"

"Yoooo!"

"Asahi, take it easy!!"

Your fingertips couldn't make it to the floor- you weren't sure that you wouldn't hit your head, even if they did. His body was so hot against your back, his sheer strength such a shock, it stole your senses for a moment.

"Uh! Ref! Ref! That can't be legal!" Yachi pointed.

"Technically," Daichi took a moment to puff his collar with air, scanning the 'legality' of it, "Uh- it's... allowed."

You had never been so grateful to be wearing a bra. Your shirt didn't come all the way up, but you still took a second to tuck it before gripping your way to a curl-up.

At the top, you grabbed the back of his neck. It earned a strong grimace.

It served him right, since he was making a mockery out of you.

"Mmmh- sorry," Asahi spared you an apologetic look, even letting you finish tucking in your shirt before moving to a different position.

It was all in all, a lot of time, sitting up on his shoulders. It earned many, many whistles and half-vulgar expressions that Daichi had to quiet down.

"You good?" He cracked himself up a little with the question, unable to look anywhere but between your legs. You could feel his warm panting against you and tried not to think about it.

"Mhm."

It was curt, beyond embarrassment at this point. You wanted a fighting chance to touch the ball. If he kept you up here, you wouldn't be able to try.

If you had been one of the guys, he might've been a little less gentle letting you onto the floor. Still, he kept you down and wasted no time to pull himself free from your thighs, then pin you on your back.

He sat on your hips. It seemed so lame, and simple, but you couldn't lift yourself out from under him. You were getting weaker just by trying.

It was worse when he looked you in the eye, a little too sweet, as if he wasn't even thinking about the match.

The only thing that saved you was the time running out. You had just one minute left and still hadn't touched the ball.

"Asahi, get the damn ball!" Suga hollered, now on his second drink.

He sat back a little, glancing around for it- it was enough weight displacement to yank a leg out. He was still deciding between keeping you down and grabbing the ball. You were able to take advantage of the indecision and fly towards it, just before him.

And you were exhausted, hugging it close to your chest, huffing with a kind of tired you hadn't quite known before.

Spite was the only thing you ran on, at this point. Your muscles were screaming with fatigue, your breath shallow and rapid, making your forearms a little slick from condensation.

Eyes screwed shut, you couldn't help but squeak at the sound of him upon you- he was so scary, you finally understood how other teams could get intimidated by the way he played in matches.

"30 seconds!! (Y/n)!" Nishinoya bellowed, "Just 30 seconds!! Hold it!!"

His big fingers were digging, slowly but surely prying like steel under your arms. Every time he spared a moment to readjust, you squeezed harder and impeded his progress, so it forced a different approach.

A forearm barred against the front of your hips, stalling your breath for a moment- once he had a grip around you, he completed the hold and dropped his shoulder to the floor.

And in one, big groan against your ear, he curled, flipping you on top of him.

"Noooo-!!" Nishinoya and Yachi watched along in horror.

You braced, a simple cry all you could make, knowing that you were done for. You lay face up- your back against his chest, the only thing keeping the ball in your possession was a weak arm hold.

Asahi didn't instantly go for it, though.

He crunched his legs up in lock, prying yours down with shameful ease. It must've been some form of showmanship, to truly have you trapped.

The labored rise and fall of his chest moved your whole upper body, yet another enticing reminder that he eclipsed you in size. You could've sworn he was laughing.

Before he could take the thing out of your hands, you chucked it all the way across the circle.

"Oooooh!!"

"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"

You both scrambled away from each other to grab the ball. For once, you had a head start and started pulling yourself towards it.

A grip on your ankle, just before you could close the distance, dragged you backwards in a comical slide.

"Aah-h-!!" You yelped again, all your progress lost, all your hope fading as he climbed over you.

But he couldn't quite reach the ball. He was weighing you down to keep you from moving.

Now faced with the reality you wouldn't win, you refocused all your effort on keeping him away. You quickly got into more of a sprawl to keep his hips further back while he was distracted, nails digging into his big, outstretched forearm with a strangled, but determined groan.

He quickly silenced you by bringing that arm back, crushing it underneath your combined bodies in an unintentional choke.

The fingers on his other hand were dancing against the ball. You were able to twist, just barely, to snake your hand to his bicep and force a subtle bend at the elbow.

"Time!"

It was such a cathartic experience. For about 3 seconds. As long as it took for you to both stop bracing.

After that, your heart was pounding for a very different purpose. Though you had been able to shove your dirty thoughts to the side in the name of sportsmanship, the position you finished in was pornographic and you quickly felt a throbbing between your thighs.

"Ahhh-- fuck-!" He groaned, heavy and burning hot against your neck, "You're- Mm, you were good."

You winced at the sensation and the tired, grumbly bass in his voice.

Your legs had the outside disadvantage, knees spread wide in another dismal effort to remain low. His hips were crammed against the back of yours, allowing you to feel the indisputable bulge pressed tight against your cunt.

What made it worse was that you couldn't move until he took his weight off, and he was so tired that it took him longer than you to catch his breath.

His forearm slid off of your neck and he finally muscled himself up. It left you a bit weak, wobbly, sort of needy for that weight on top of you again.

What may have felt like a few million years was, in reality, only a few more seconds. Nobody noticed, or they at least weren't pointing it out, in favor of teasing him for not finishing the match.

"A tie, dude?!"

"Rematch! Rematch!"

"I know you're not tired!"

Since you were the underdog, you were spared of such disparaging comments. You had, after all, gotten the closest to winning against him. A tie was satisfying in its own right.

"--if he wasn't so damn distracted-,"

Suga's disappointed mutter to Daichi caught your attention as you took your place back on the couch next to them. You leaned forward and stole his attention right away.

"Not that I wasn't rooting for you!" He clarified. "It's just that--,"

Daichi cleared his throat, very loudly, twice, with a wide stare towards his friend. That was not his secret to tell.

"Right... right."

There was no time, no room to ask another question, because Asahi carefully walked the perimeter of the circle to get to Daichi. He squatted in front of him. They began talking in covered whispers. They exchanged a few back-and-forth's.

It ended in Daichi dapping him up, a big grin on his face. He patted his back, hard but friendly, and made some room so he could exit the makeshift perimeter.

You figured that was the end of it, and started to collect yourself as he hopped over the back of the couch. Kageyama was taking on Tsukishima in a heated, technically complicated match. Now, you had some sympathy because you were still unable to shake the indescribable shock of getting pinned.

It felt eerily similar to the jolt you got from his big, warm hand back on your shoulder.

When you turned to look at him, he was a bit flushed. So modest, considering how rough he had just been with you.

"You wanna come help me with somethin'?"

"Sure!" You glanced around his kind, but gruff features and couldn't figure him out.

He let you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you also climbed over the back of the couch. It was sweet, and it would've been scarier without his help.

"What's up?" You spared a look back to Daichi and Suga, who were grabbing and shoving each other in excitement, and tried to lighten him up a little with a playful shove on the stairs, "You want a rematch?"

It didn't move him at all. Sharing a laugh, he joked, "Uhh, well- kind of."

☆VIP☆

@integers @yuchacco

taglist:

none! reply to be tagged for part two!

my masterlist. more asahi

[somewhereincairparavel]

my favourite character exchange of all time between the hoo gang will always be this particular line from jason to nico in house of hades.

“Nico, you do choose how to live your life. You want to trust somebody? Maybe take a risk that I'm really your friend and I'll accept you. It's better than hiding”

jason doesn't say something like 'i'll make sure to prove myself to you' or 'i'll do everything I can to make sure I earn your trust' because they are empty words. especially considering that this was before jason knew about nico's past, he can't exactly do anything to make nico trust him, apart from offering support, because in the end, it was nico's choice whether to trust him or not.

yeah, some people might think jason was being 'cold' and 'shallow' for saying this, but jason genuinely MEANT well. he told nico that he's WILLING to be his friend even before he knew nico's past. this was before jason knew an OUNCE of nico's backstory. he gave some slightly harsh but brotherly advice to him.

jason didn't deliver any false promise to nico that everyone will love him no matter what and that everyone will always be kind to him in camp half blood (this strangely parallels w percy deliberately choosing to NOT promise nico that he'll keep bianca safe because percy knew that death is a possibility and didn't want to make any fake promises just because nico is a kid, percy tried his hardest to be honest with nico, that certainly caused problems of course, but we can see the pattern between how percy and jason both hated fake promises.)

also, in boo, will says “Oh, please. Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends or at least, people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you'd get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once”

i know I've seen alot of people use this excerpt as consensus of saying that will is super 'tone deaf' and 'insensitive'. but can you guys see the pattern here? will came off a lot more agressive bc of his romantic feelings, but we can see how will, jason and percy were sort of 'reality checks' that nico NEEDED. he had an inferiority and victim complex (which is very justifiable and valid considering how much trauma he faced, on the contrary i thought nico was being considerably calm with everything he's been through and deserved to yell way more. I quite related to nico a lot when it comes to the personality sometimes so jason's words definitely struck a nerve for me) but nico was always drawn to honesty.

nico had some of his earlier memories washed away by the river lethe to 'protect' him from more trauma, and nico was so attached to bianca that the thought of her leaving for the hunters of artemis felt like a personal betrayal. he was made to beleive that he and his sister were safe in camp half blood, and combining that w the whole lethe thing and hades generally trying to protect the di angelo family from the gods, you can see how much nico needed honesty and not coddling. because coddling and sheltering ruined his life and took away his light.

jason saying that nico needed to take risks as it comes with the package of love and friendship, and overall giving him authenticity, telling him that heartbreak and family can coexist, causes nico to be drawn to him and genuinely have him an eye opener.

jason knew what it was like to be held with fake promises his whole life, and even mentions it as a reason as to why he made sure he kept the promises he made. because he would never turn out to be like his two faces mother beryl.

I'll always believe that jason played a huge part in nico's overall character, and his death even more so.

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[tooturtly]

Still on my locked tomb and feudalism bullshit, so here’s a discussion of John, and how I think he systematically uses the decentralized nature of the Nine Houses to avoid the realities of being God.

Essentially, what it says on the tin, but first, context. (Can you tell I’m somehow more unhinged now?). Feudalism is a political structure with a fair amount of decentralization of power. It usually came about in the past after a larger government/political system collapsed, such as Rome. Essentially, a King/Emperor cannot feasibly run large amounts of territory, with the citizens of those territories being from diverse backgrounds and customs, without a lot of loyal subordinates helping out. Enter the nobility.

The nobility do the work of running the lands so that the King/Emperor doesn’t have to maintain a large bureaucracy to, let’s say, collect taxes from each individual person, hold a census, or run a court of law. This does not mean the ruler gets to fuck off, they do have responsibilities to the realm, their court, their knights, and the nobles who support them. Some people have to like you to remain in power, otherwise you get assassinated.

So what does all this have to do with John? Well, first, I think it’s safe to say from what we’ve seen that the Nine Houses are very similar to a feudalist system. You have a collection of independent, semiautonomous populations that can generally keep themselves together. They have slightly different takes on religion, loyalty to the empire, and necromancy, but they are all unified under it.

Second, I think we can also say that John has a very specific perception of himself that does not always align with the reality. He wears worn, casual clothes that are not the type of thing anyone else wears, but includes a crown of infant bones. He has a casual, relaxed attitude, but also can pull out a speech about avenging death and fighting for the empire seemingly off the top of his head. He doesn’t want Harrow to treat him like God, yet also constantly quotes works from a world nobody but he can remember. His narration of his actions in Nona paint him as seeing what he did as something anyone would do, as not that bad, as the act of a desperate, passionate man. Yet he also rebuilt the world to make himself God and Emperor above everyone else, the head of a ten thousand year long grudge campaign.

The contradiction is inherent in his title, man who became god, and god who is man. Harrow especially points out moments where he seems mortal, human, calling attention to how he otherwise appears completely separate and divine.

John is a complicated character. People smarter than me have written more with better evidence laid out. What I’m trying to get at though is that, to me, John reads as a man who cannot view himself as having vast amounts of power over others on the regular. To a certain extent he has to view himself as ‘just a little guy’ so he doesn’t have to reconcile with the actions that have caused massive amounts of harm. He wants the Lyctors to be his friends and associates, rather than their boss.

The structure of the Nine Houses helps with that. He doesn’t have to regularly speak to the average citizen, or deal with the daily problems of the people and their Houses, or hell, even the people he’s conquered. Mercymorn says something in Harrow about how the Emperor’s seat is the Mithraeum, the place light years away from the people he is supposed to allegedly rule. The place only realistically accessible by traveling through the River, a feat only possibly by Lyctors (for the most part). And we learn that he’s only been away from that for 80 years, and he assumedly spent most of his previous ten thousand years there.

Because he is at the top of the power structure, he can lose himself in the bigger picture and forget about the reality, which is the fact that he is running a colonial Empire that requires the biological death of planets and people to survive.

[mywitchyblog]

Message to @alphaltrainreflection

First of all, bitch, where did I ever say anything about "eroticizing inferiority"? Like, be fucking for real. Show me the receipts. Because unless you’re reading between lines that don’t exist, nothing in my post said anything about power dynamics, submission, or “inferiority.” It sounds like you’re projecting some judgmental bullshit that I didn’t even invite into the conversation. So let’s start there—check yourself before you come into my space twisting my words to fit your weird little agenda.

Second of all, and I mean this with every ounce of sincerity, shut the fuck up. Genuinely, if you don’t like what you see, don’t interact. It’s that simple. Not everyone has to match your narrow idea of what shifting is “supposed” to be. Shifting isn’t some gated community where you get to play security guard and decide who’s allowed in. So do us all a favor, take that rigid-ass energy, and keep it to yourself, bitch.

Let’s be real for a second. You said, “sex freaks who insist on eroticizing inferiority are ruining shifting.” Bitch, nobody’s ruining anything—especially not me. All I said was that I want to get fucked. Plain and simple. If my desire to shift for a good time offends you, you’re free to move along. Shifting means different things to different people, and if sex is part of that, it’s totally valid. If I want to shift to a reality for some damn good dick, who the fuck are you to get all sanctimonious about it? Newsflash: your opinion on what’s “appropriate” doesn’t apply here, darling.

And let’s get one thing fucking clear, because clearly, you need this spelled out: even if someone did want to shift to a reality where they take on a more passive, submissive role, what of it? Why the fuck does that bother you so much? Some people spend their whole lives having to be strong, holding shit together, constantly defending themselves, and staying in control just to survive. Maybe, just maybe, they want to create a reality where they can finally let go, surrender, and trust someone who respects them and won’t take advantage of them. Imagine that—feeling safe enough to let down your guard and explore a side of yourself you don’t get to express in this life. For some people, that’s healing. For others, it’s fun. Either way, it’s their choice, not yours. So back the fuck off.

So let’s talk about this “ruining shifting” nonsense you pulled out of nowhere. Bitch, the only thing “ruining” anything is people like you, stomping into conversations uninvited and acting like you’re the gatekeeper of how others should experience their desires. You’re clinging to this imaginary rulebook about what’s “appropriate” for shifting as if that makes you morally superior, but all it does is make you look insecure, judgmental, and way too invested in other people’s business. Spoiler alert: nobody gives a fuck about your approval or needs it to validate their experience.

Here’s the truth, since you seem to need a wake-up call: shifting is deeply personal. It’s about self-determination and freedom, not conforming to some rigid-ass code of conduct set by random bitches on the internet. If someone wants to shift for spiritual growth, self-discovery, sexual exploration, or all of the above, that’s their fucking prerogative. Shaming them because it doesn’t align with your limited, vanilla-ass view of what’s “appropriate” is straight-up pathetic.

And by the way, bitch, sex is a natural, beautiful, and completely valid part of life. If I want to shift for sex, or if someone else wants to shift to feel cherished, adored, or, yes, even submissive, that’s nobody’s fucking business but ours. Maybe instead of trying to drag others down to your level of insecurity, you could take a hard look in the mirror and figure out why other people’s sexual autonomy bothers you so damn much. Because this isn’t about “ruining shifting”; it’s about you being uncomfortable with the idea of someone enjoying themselves in a way that’s different from what you deem acceptable. Maybe some self-reflection would do you some good.

To every other shifter out there who’s ever been made to feel guilty or “lesser” for shifting for your own reasons, listen up: you don’t owe anyone an explanation, and you don’t need anyone’s approval. Your DR, your fucking rules. If shifting for you is about finding love, intimacy, exploration, or yes, even some good dick, that’s your choice. Don’t let some insecure bitch shame you or make you feel like you’re somehow ruining the experience just because it doesn’t fit into their narrow little box. Shifting is about creating the life and reality you want to live—whatever the fuck that looks like for you.

So, here’s a suggestion: take your unsolicited, holier-than-thou attitude and keep it to yourself. If you can’t handle seeing people talk openly about their desires and goals for shifting, then bitch, scroll past and save yourself the outrage. Because at the end of the day, I’m not here to please you, and neither is anyone else. We’re here to live our best lives, however we see fit, and if that’s too much for you, the door’s right over there.

To everyone who’s out here shifting for what they want, keep going. Own your desires, own your reality, and don’t let anyone’s outdated judgment make you feel like you’re doing it wrong. Shifting is your journey, and if that includes exploring intimacy, vulnerability, or sexuality, you’re not alone. You’re valid, and your experience is just as real and important as anyone else’s.

Consider this your reminder that no one’s begging for your approval. I’ll be over here, unbothered, shifting for exactly what I want, and loving every fucking second of it. ✨

[scribblesofagoonerr]

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our Girl: Growing Up | 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀

summary: monkey's dad has the social worker convinced everything is fine when the reality couldn't be further from the truth.

our girl: growing up masterlist

The entire ride to your dad’s house felt like a waking nightmare. The fear gripped your chest so tightly it was hard to breathe, and the closer you got, the more your stomach twisted into painful knots.

Every mile felt like you were being dragged further into something dark and suffocating, an inevitable doom you couldn’t escape.

Your social worker chatted idly in the front seat, her cheerful tone grating against the terror building inside you. You barely heard her words. All you could focus on was the rising dread of stepping into that house - a house that wasn’t home, and never would be.

“Alright, looks like we’re here,” Your social worker announced the words you had been dreading since you climbed in the car, “Ready to say hi to your dad?” She chirped, turning to you with a forced smile.

You shrank into your seat, desperately wishing you could disappear. The pit in your stomach grew heavier with every second, your hands clutching at the fabric of your jeans as if grounding yourself would keep you safe.

The memories came flooding back, vivid and sharp – The stench of alcohol on his breath, the cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to everything, the bruises he’d left on your arms when his temper flared. You remembered it all, every terrifying moment that made you flinch at loud voices and slammed doors.

And yet, somehow, he’d convinced everyone that he’d changed. That he was better.

You weren’t fooled – not entirely – but what could you do? You were just nine years old. To the adults around you, your voice didn’t carry the weight it should have. They saw your fear as uncertainty, your hesitation as resistance to change. 

No one wanted to listen to a kid. Nobody wanted to listen to you. 

Your heart pounded harder as the car came to a stop in front of the house. You stared at it, willing it to disappear, but it stood there, looming, mocking your fear.

Every part of you screamed not to get out, to stay hidden, to make the nightmare stop. But you knew you couldn’t.

Your social worker turned to you, her smile still there, but it wasn’t comforting. It felt forced, like she was trying to convince both you and herself that this was fine.

“Come on now,” She said gently, her voice warm but insistent, “It’s okay, It’s going to be fine. I’ll be right there with you,” She waited for you to move, but you just sat there, frozen, staring ahead.

Your body was tense, every muscle locked up in protest, “I… I don’t want to,” You whispered, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear yourself. Your throat felt tight, your words barely able to escape.

Your social worker’s expression softened, and she sighed, her patience unwavering, “I know, I know you might feel scared, sweetheart, but everything is going to be fine.” She told you in a gentle tone of voice, more patient than she was earlier when pushing you to say goodbye to Leah, just like she was coaxing a frightened animal out of hiding, “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Your hands were clammy, your palms sweating against the cold seatbelt. The world outside the car felt distant, unreal like you couldn’t quite make it through the fog of your own terror.

With a shaky breath, you slowly unbuckled your seatbelt, feeling your stomach twist in tighter knots. You hesitated before pushing the door open, the chill of the outside air only adding to the dread. 

Your social worker’s reassuring hand rested on your shoulder as she stood beside you, “You’re doing great,” She said, guiding you to the front door.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the earth itself was trying to drag you back. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you approached the door, the sound of the knock feeling deafening.

It was as if every second stretched out into eternity.

The door opened with a creak, and there he was. Your dad.

He looked different, but not by much. His scruff had greyed, and his eyes carried the weight of exhaustion, but the unsettling smile that tugged at his lips was the same – a smile that tried too hard to be convincing, like he was fooling everyone, even himself, into believing everything was fine. It made your skin crawl.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my kiddo,” Your dad, Mark, greeted you, his smile cold and forced as you stood frozen, clutching your bag, “You’ve certainly grown since I last saw you, haven’t you?”

His voice was too bright, too fake. It was like he was desperately trying to make everything feel normal, like this moment wasn’t suffocating you. But you saw through it. You always had.

“What, no hug for your old man?” Your dad joked, crouching down to your level and spreading his arms wide, expecting you to step into them.

“Hello again, Mark,” Your social worker stepped forward, her tone professional, yet polite, “I’m here to ensure everything goes smoothly with this transition,” She said, her eyes scanning your dad for any sign of something she might need to address, “How have things been, uh, since we last spoke?”

Your dad chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves, “Things have been good, real good,” He said, his hand resting on the doorframe as if were trying to look casual. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes flickered nervously toward you.

“You’ve made progress, right?” Your social worker’s voice held a touch of caution, and you could feel her eyes watching him, weighing his every word.

Your dad nodded quickly, too quickly, “Of course. Everything’s under control. She’ll be safe here. I’ve changed,” The way he said it, the words falling from his lips like they were rehearsed, made your stomach churn.

You didn’t believe him, not for a second.

But your social worker seemed to buy it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and gave a nod, “Good, we’ll be checking in regularly to make sure everything stays on track for you both.”

You stood there, your body trembling, wishing you could disappear, wishing you could escape, but all you could do was stare at the door and wonder how long it would take for the fear to come rushing back, like it always did.

“I see you are still into football, huh? I bet you’re the player of the match every game,” Mark tried to make conversation, his attempt at interest ringing hollow.

You turned toward the social worker, fear flickering in your eyes, “I… I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to Leah’s. Why can’t I stay with her?”

“This is your new home now, kiddo,” Mark cut in quickly, crouching to your level. His voice was gruff, trying to sound kind, “We’re gonna make it nice. Just you and me, yeah?”

“I… I don’t want to be here,” Your voice wavered as you shook your head, “Why can’t I go back?”

“It’s lovely here, Monkey–” The social worker began with a cheerful tone of voice.

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped your head toward her, her voice trembling with anger, “Only Le and Jordy get to call me that!”

The social worker’s smile faltered, her face flushing slightly, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Mark sighed heavily, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on now, there’s no need for that,” He said, his grip firm, “Hey, how about this? I’ll put up some goalposts in the garden. We can kick the ball around. Sound good?”

“No, thanks,” You muttered, pulling away from his hand.

“That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for us to figure things out, right?” Mark said with forced cheer, glancing at the social worker.

“Right,” Your social worker agreed, smiling faintly, “Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in. I’ll come by in a couple of days to check in and make sure everything is okay.”

“I… I don’t want to be here,” Your chest tightened as panic set in, “Please… Please don’t leave me here,” You begged, your voice cracking.

Your social worker knelt down beside you, “This is your new home now, sweetheart. You’ll be happy here with your dad.”

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, straightening up, “It’s just me and you now, kiddo. We’ll be alright, won’t we?”

Tears prickled your eyes as you shook your head, “No, I… I don’t want to be here. I want Le,” You whispered, clutching your bag tighter as the reality of your new life began to sink in.

But you didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be with Leah and Jordan, where you felt safe, where things still made sense.

“Take a seat kid. The match is kicking off soon,” Your dad’s gruff voice cut through the silence, “I’ve got a good feeling about this game, you know? Those so-called Gunners are about to get a reality check.”

Your stomach dropped. Football games meant pain. The outcome of each match determined the mood of the night, and you knew your dad’s moods could turn in a dime. The thought of sitting through another night like this terrified you.

You didn’t want the social worker to leave, but soon enough, it was just the two of you in a house that felt cold and empty. Your dad didn’t waste time in turning his attention back to the TV, flipping through channels until he landed on the match he’d been waiting for.

You lingered in the doorway, the silence of the house pressing down on you, suffocating you. The hum of the television filled the space, but the victorious cheers from the screen only made you feel more alone.

The game between Arsenal and Chelsea – Your dad’s team – and it didn’t take long for it to become painfully clear that Chelsea was dominating. Arsenal was losing badly. Your dad, a lifelong Chelsea fan, was practically glowing with joy as the goals piled up.

When Chelsea scored yet another goal, making it 6 - 0, your dad threw his hands up in the air, grinning from ear to ear and shouting in triumph, his mood shifting into something unusually bright and triumphant as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“That’s how it’s done, eh?” Your dad grinned, not even looking over at you, “6 nil, that’s how you crush them. Gotta love it.”

You flinched at the sound of his voice, the sudden loudness making your heart race. He was too happy, too loud. It felt like the rest of the world had fallen away as he celebrated his team’s victory, oblivious to the fact that you were standing right there, desperately wishing to disappear.

Your dad glanced over at you, a wide smile on his face, “You used to watch the game with me, remember? Not gonna get upset about this, are you? It’s a big win for Chelsea.”

His words hit you like a weight, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know how to respond. His cheerfulness felt fake, like he was trying to force normalcy in a moment that was anything but. 

You wanted to ask if you could leave, go back to Leah’s, to somewhere that didn’t feel so wrong or so… heavy.

But you stayed silent.

Your stomach twisted as you watched him bask in his victory, the scoreline a stark reminder of how powerless you felt in that moment, how trapped you were.

“Come on kiddo, sit down. I’m not gonna bite,” He said, motioning to the sofa, but you stayed frozen in pace, “Come on. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” His voice was warm, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You stood there for a moment longer, the sound of the game in the background like a cruel mockery of everything you wanted. You didn’t want to be here, not with him, not with the victory that felt more like defeat to you.

But what could you do? What could you say?

With a deep, shaky breath, you turned away from the doorway and shuffled toward the sofa, but everything about it felt wrong. Just like the house, just like the victory.

You didn’t belong here, and no matter how hard he tried to make you feel like you did, you knew the truth.

As the night fell, the house seemed even colder. The shadows in the corners of the room stretched long and lonely, creeping along the walls. You sat there, staring at the walls, at the empty space around you, feeling every inch of the house pressing in, suffocating you.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional muffled sound from the TV in the living room, where your dad continued to watch the game highlights.

This wasn’t your room, this wasn’t your home. You didn’t want to be here, it felt wrong, like you were living in someone else’s nightmare, trapped in a place that wasn’t yours.

The walls, the furniture, the way everything felt too still – This wasn’t your home. Home was with Leah and Jordan, where you felt safe, where the air didn’t feel thick with the weight of expectations and disappointment.

You pulled the blanket tighter around you, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. The cold seemed to seep into your bones, making everything feel even emptier. You needed something – someone – but no one was there.

And then, it hit you.

You didn’t have your stuffed monkey.

The realisation made your chest tighten. You hadn’t even thought about it until now, but the weight of not having him there with you was like a knife in your heart. Your stuffed monkey was your comfort, your safety, the thing that always made things feel just a little bit better, no matter how bad things got.

But he wasn’t here, and it felt like you were missing a piece of yourself.

The tears came before you could stop them. They started slow, and then built, faster and faster, until your face was wet with them. Your body trembled with silent sobs. 

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to be weak, after all, you had promised Leah that you could be brave, but in this cold, empty house, with nothing but the distant sounds of a victory that didn’t matter to you, you felt more alone than you ever had before.

You curled up tighter under the blanket, hoping somehow the warmth of it would stop the tears. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, but it didn’t stop the pain.

The ache in your chest. The fear.

And as the tears kept falling, you realised there was no escaping this – no running back to Leah and Jordan.

You were alone.

The next morning, it was like your dad was trying to show you he could be different, to convince both himself and you that things were fine. He seemed determined to act like everything was normal, maybe even better than normal.

“Hey, kiddo,” He said as you walked into the kitchen, “I was thinking, you’ve got that football thing coming up, don’t you? A match or something?”

You blinked, surprised, “Uh… Yeah, next weekend.”

Your dad nodded, his smile awkward but genuine enough to catch you off guard, “I’ll come. Watch you play. Haven’t done that in a while, right? I reckon it’d be nice for both of us.”

You didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, you wanted to believe him. But on the other, you knew how easily promises could feel apart. Still, the thought of him showing up gave you a glimmer of hope, “Okay,” You said softly.

“That’s the spirit,” He grinned, ruffling your hair, “Hey, I meant what I said to the social worker. You’ll still see Leah and… Jordan, is it, yeah? I’m not trying to keep them away from you.”

That part, at least, made you feel a bit better, “You promise?”

“Promise,” Your dad said, holding up his hand like he was swearing an oath, “I’ll even drive you over there myself if I have to.”

The day passed in a strange sort of normalcy, with your dad asking about football and school. It felt forced, but you didn’t want to question it. You clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

By the evening rolled around, you were jittery with anticipation. Leah had promised to call, and the thought of hearing her voice was the only thing keeping you from completely shutting down. The house still felt cold and unfamiliar, but knowing Leah could be on the other end of the line made it bearable.

When the phone rang mid-afternoon, you darted to the living room, “Is that her?” You asked, her voice trembling with excitement.

Your dad raised an eyebrow at your eagerness, but he handed over the phone without comment, “Yeah, it’s her,” He said, stepping back.

“Le?” You said, clutching the phone tightly. As soon as you heard her familiar voice, the knot in your chest loosened, “Le!”

“There’s my girl,” Leah’s voice warm and bright, like a hug over the phone, “It’s so good to hear your voice! How’re you doing? Are you settling in okay?”

You sat down on the sofa, a small smile creeping onto your face, “It’s… Okay,” You said, hesitating, “I miss you, and I miss Jordy!”

“I miss you too, Monkey. We both miss you so much,” Leah replied softly, sounding like she was trying to hold her tears back but you could hear the quiver in her voice, “I’ll see you soon, yeah? And you can call me anytime. I’m always going to be here for you. We both are.”

The conversation went on for a while, with Leah asking about your day and telling you about hers. It was the most you’d smiled since you moved in, and for a moment, you forgot about how empty the house felt.

When the call ended, you handed the phone back to your dad, your heart feeling lighter than it had been earlier that day, “Thank you for letting me talk to her,” You said.

Your dad gave you a tight smile, “Yeah, no problem, kiddo. Glad you’re happy,” But there was something in his tone, a tension you couldn’t quite place.

Over the next couple of days, your dad seemed to watch you more closely, especially whenever you brought Leah or Jordan up in conversation. You didn’t think much of it, too focused on the small bursts of joy her calls brought.

A few evenings later, Leah called again. You were in the kitchen when the phone rang, and you hurried into the living room, eager to answer. But your dad beat you to it, lifting the phone before you could reach it.

“Hello?” Your dad answered, his tone casual. 

You hovered nearby, waiting for him to pass it to you.

“Oh, yeah… No, she’s already in bed,” He said after a pause. His words stopped you in your tracks. You weren’t in bed. It wasn’t even your bedtime yet.

A chill ran down your spine. Why didn’t he let you speak to her?

Leah’s voice was faint, but you could hear the confusion in her tone, “Already? Isn’t it a bit early for her?”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long day,” Your dad said smoothly, his tone light but firm, “I’ll let her know you called.”

Your stomach sank, a deep unsettling feeling settling in your chest, “Dad,” You whispered his name, your voice trembling, “Dad… Is that Leah?”

Before Leah could say anything more, your dad quickly hung up the phone. He turned to face you, still smiling, but there was something behind his eyes that your skin crawl, “Nah, just someone from work,” He said, brushing it off, “It’s getting late, go get ready for the bed.”

You stood there for a moment, staring at the phone, confused and hurt, “But… I thought she was gonna call.”

“She probably forgot, kiddo,” Your dad said, waving a hand dismissively, “Now, go on. Don’t make a fuss.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to believe. Your heart felt heavy, and the unease gnawed at you, “Are you sure it wasn’t her?”

Your dad sharpened his gaze, and his voice became more firm, more final, “I said it wasn’t her. Now drop it.”

The finality in his tone made you flinch and without a word, you turned and walked back to your room, the unanswered question hanging in the air. The disappointment pressed down on you like a weight, and you felt a familiar coldness creep back into your chest.

Your social worker’s next visit came in the middle of the following week, a day like any other but still somehow heavy with anticipation. You tried to keep yourself small and hidden, out of the way, as your dad greeted the woman at the door, offering a forced smile that made your stomach churn.

The entire time, it felt like a blur, a series of questions and answers that passed by too quickly for you to catch your breath. You didn’t like the way your dad pretended to be someone he wasn’t, and it didn’t feel right.

There was something off about it, like he was trying too hard.

“Hey, kiddo,” Your dad called from the living room, where he was sitting with the social worker, “Come on in and say hi. They want to know how things are going, right?”

You shuffled into the room, eyes downcast as you felt the uncomfortable weight of the situation. Your social worker smiled warmly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. 

You didn’t feel you belonged here. Not in this house. Not with him.

“So, how have things been going?” She asked, looking between you and him.

“Oh yeah, they’ve been great!” Your dad’s voice was too loud, too eager. He sounded like he was trying to convince both himself and everyone else that everything was fine, “We’re having a fantastic time together, right, kiddo?”

You blinked, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, and you knew what he expected from you. You had no choice but to force a weak smile and nod, the words too thick in your throat to speak, “Yeah…”

 “That’s wonderful to hear!” Your social worker smiled, unaware of the tension in the room, “Mark, you seemed to have really changed.”

You could hear the pride in your voice, and it made your stomach twist. 

Your dad’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was too eager to play the part, to act like the father he thought he should be, “Having my Monkey here makes me become the better man. A better father to her.”

The words struck you like a slap to the face. You couldn’t hide the discomfort that spread through you.

Monkey.

The nickname Leah and Jordan had given you, the one that meant something real, something safe. And now, he was using it, twisting it into something it was never meant to be.

You wanted to argue, to say something, but you couldn’t. You knew better than to challenge him, especially not in front of the social worker. You stayed quiet, your hands shaking in your lap.

“I’m really pleased to hear that, Mark,” Your social worker said, her voice warm, “And sweetheart? Are you happy here?”

The question should’ve felt like a lifeline, a chance to finally speak up, but it felt like a trap. The house was cold, everything about it felt wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

Instead, you forced out the words, the ones you knew your dad wanted to hear.

“Yeah,” It came out hollow, but you couldn’t help it. You were too scared to say anything else. The fear of what would happen if you told the truth was too strong.

The social worker didn’t seem to notice. She smiled and jotted something down in her notes, “Well, it seems like things are improving. I’m happy to hear that. It’s really good to see you two getting along so well.”

As she stood up to leave, you felt a knot of frustration in your stomach. You had to sit there, nod and smile, even though everything inside of you screamed that this wasn’t right.

Why didn’t you just speak up when you had the chance?

Your dad’s act had worked. Your social worker was completely fooled. You were stuck, unable to say anything that would make it stop.

When the door closed behind your social worker, the silence was deafening. Your dad stood up, his posture stiff, as if he was proud of what he had just pulled off. You could feel his eyes on you, watching for any sign of resistance. You kept your head down, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to give him any reason to lash out.

That same evening when he called you into the living room to talk, you couldn’t escape the tightness in your chest. You had to keep playing along, or it would all fall apart. 

Your dad didn’t seem to notice your hesitation as he sat down, a forced smile still on his face, “See, kiddo? Everything’s fine now. The social worker thinks we’re doing great.”

You nodded, the fake smile still in place, but inside, everything felt wrong. The house felt colder now, the emptiness more suffocating.

And then you said it. The wrong words at the wrong time.

“I miss Leah. I… I wish I could go back,” It was a slip of the tongue, but it was enough for your dad’s anger to return.

His face shifted instantly, his eyes narrowing and the smile slipping off his face, “You want to go back to them, do you?” His voice was scarily low and dangerous, laced with venom, “You want your precious Leah and Jordan? Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

Before you could even try to explain, he stormed off, his footsteps heavy and fast. You heard the sound of the kitchen cabinet slamming, then the unmistakable clink of glass. Your stomach dropped when he returned with a bottle in hand – whiskey.

You could feel the terror building up inside you. Whiskey meant he was no longer the man he pretended to be. It meant anger. It meant violence. It meant fear.

Your dad wasn’t a nice man when he drank at all, and the bruises were enough to show for that in the past.

“You see this bottle?” He hissed, holding it up like a weapon, “You’re the reason I drink, you little brat. Always whining. Always complaining. Now you’re asking for Leah and Jordan all the time. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your body went cold. The words stung, but you couldn’t fight back. You just sat there, frozen in place, watching as he raged on. The fear kept you silent, kept you from speaking, from fighting.

“You want them? Too bad. You don’t get to have everything your way,” Your dad’s cold voice sneered, and there it was.

That haunting familiar tone of voice that sends a chill down your spine, and left you cowering in the corner of the room.

The anger in his voice was suffocating. You stared at the floor, blinking back tears, but they came anyway. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. You had tried so hard to keep the peace, to make everything okay, and now it was all falling apart.

When he finally left the room, slamming the door behind him, the silence that followed felt more suffocating. Broken and alone. The house felt even colder now, the emptiness more pronounced. You wanted to scream, to run to Leah, to have her hold you and tell you everything would be okay.

But you couldn’t.

Your dad was right, and you were stuck here, stuck with him, and pretending that everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[fireflysymphony]

Oh my god your Aventurine x Bodyguard!Reader so good I have to give you so many praises for that! But I have to ask… if you can may I please hear your thoughts on Aventurine with a Reader that he adores to take with him to the casinos as like a lucky charm but in reality he just absolutely loves to show off that they are partners, if that’s alright please and thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day today!

Aventurine showing off reader

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I really enjoyed writing it, and seeing someone else appreciate it makes me really happy. Here are some of my thoughts! I just love this man an unhealthy amount. I hope you enjoy this <3

Word count: 1.6k

Content Warning: GN! Reader, suggestive but mostly a crazy blond and some fluff, mentions of alcohol, not proofread, hope you enjoy <3

Headcanons

Long before the two of you began to date, he’d take you to his casinos with the intention of scamming you out of your money and possibly getting you drunk and taking you home with him later that night.

He got it in his head that it would end up like one of those sexy pornos where once he gambled you out of all your money, he’d seductively lean down and whisper in your ear “All your money’s gone, a shame angel, but let’s have one more round, yeah? If I win again, you’ll have to pay me back with something more… intimate.” And then he’d win and take you home with him to get his “payment.”

It never ended like that though. You were either too smart to gamble with him, or your teary eyed, defeated face once he won for the third time in a row would break his heart in a way he didn’t like or fully understand, so he’d stop himself from sucking you dry of anymore cash. And the next day you would find the money you lost plus some extra back in your bank account. He hoped you never found out that your tears were the only thing to melt his heart in a long time.

If you so much as mentioned not going with him one day, you’re in store for another one of Aventurine’s famous tantrums. This is when the phrase “good luck charm” started getting thrown around. You jokingly told him to get another person who throws themselves at his feet to be his lucky charm, and he lost it.

“No, no, no! It’s you that I want with me, nobody else! You're my good charm, singular! Please, come with me, angel, please!”

You didn't know why because you thought that’s what he was doing anyway since he often canceled your casino dates. In reality though, when you weren’t with him at night, it was because of dangerous work he didn’t need you getting involved in.

Most people who visited the casinos regularly already thought you and Aventurine were dating for multiple reasons. He always had some part of him touching yours whether it be a hand on the small of your back or him leaning on you whenever he was a little tipsy or bored of a game. He never let you pay for anything while you were with him, and despite being a rich man who could definitely afford two cocktails, he’d much rather hold his up to your lips and watch you drink from his glass. Aventurine wouldn’t let anyone approach you, especially if it was someone he had to confront for work that night, and if anyone tried flirting with you, they’d be out of luck, out of money, and out of a life depending on Aventurine’s mood. He didn’t like things that belonged to him being touched or stolen.

Safe to say, most people had pretty good evidence to conclude that you and him were together.

As you can imagine, this only got worse when you became official partners since Aventurine didn’t have to hold anything back. Your seat wasn’t the one next to him anymore, it was in his lap. He didn’t need to hold himself back from kissing you, and conveniently he mostly did it when other people were watching him. Before each round of poker, he’d ask you for a good luck kiss to bless his hand which lasted a little too long for everyone’s— but his— comfort.

Pretty much everyone knew that you weren’t just a good luck charm but a prize for him to show off, and he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Anyone who knew what was good for them backed off from trying to pursue you, and those brave souls who didn’t were in for a treat because Aventurine LIKED having them stare…. When he was in a good mood anyway. Bad mood, jealous Aventurine was a different story, but he’s for another day.

“I like it when they look at you, dove.” “But they look at me like you do.” “Exactly. But I’m the only one who gets to have you, pretty thing.”

Right after kisses, his eyes go straight to find the men he knew were into you, wanting to see their disappointed faces. He’ll even let them chat you up before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you. To him, crushing them emotionally was far more entertaining than outright killing them. This only goes for when you’re dating though. As stated before, Aventurine hated the thought of someone taking what he owned, and since you didn’t know you were his yet, he had to dispose of anyone who thought they had a chance.

It hurt him that the only place he could show you off was at the casinos. He owned them, so nobody was going to try to harm you unless they were prepared for the weeks long torture he had in store, not even the IPC spies he knew were around were safe from his wrath. To the IPC, you were nothing more than one of Aventurine’s ordinary flings, and he wouldn’t let anyone see past that facade, even if he wanted to rub his relationship in Topaz or Ratio’s face.

—-

“You always win, so I don’t understand why you need me here every night, wouldn’t you rather bring someone who’s unfamiliar with your tricks to scam?” You asked him one night before the two of you were officially a couple. He took you up to one of the VIP rooms, a few people mingling and chatting over cards around you. The two of you got a couch to yourself, yet Aventurine had an arm around your waist, not allowing an inch of personal space despite the size of the sofa. Aventurine was bored of the easy fish at the casino tonight. The card shark didn’t like his prey to fall too easily unless it was you, but you weren’t interested in losing any more money to him tonight..

“No, I’ve told you before! You’ve never seen me lose before, doll. Isn’t it obvious why? Because you’re lucky!” He answered, taking a sip of his third glass of champagne. He acted a lot more honestly when he was tipsy, his conniving grin never left his lips though, so nobody could tell how serious he was. That was if he let himself get tipsy in front of anyone but you— which he didn’t. You were the sole one who got to hear his slightly slurred speech and, on particularly rough nights, his lack of inhibitions.

“If I’m so “lucky,” why haven’t I beat you yet?” You hummed, shivering at the amount of money he’s coerced you into betting, yet somehow you’re more well off now since you met him than ever before.

“Because you’re my good luck charm, you have to find your own; I’ve sucked you dry of all your lucky, so nobody else can have you.” He waved his hand in the air like it was the most obvious explanation in the world before leaning his head on your shoulder, his glasses sliding down his nose and letting you see his pretty shining eyes. “You’re only mine to have, do you understand that?”

All you could do was sigh and fix his glasses. He was prone to say stuff like this when he was drunk and when he was sober too but it was worse when you had a little alcohol in his veins. Aventurine’s normal flirting was so teasing that you could chalk it up to him being just that, a teasing flirt who did this with everyone, but when he was tipsy or drunk, a serious edge pierced his words, a large contrast from his usual over-the-top teasing. You couldn’t trust that either. “You’re drunk, Aventurine.”

“Maybe so, but you still don’t understand, doll.” He took off his glasses, tossing them next to his empty glass on the table. He laid himself down on your thighs, his head turned away from you to face the rest of the room. When he was normal sober Aventurine, you didn’t take his advances seriously, and when he was drunk, you still didn’t take him seriously. It was annoying! Did he just give up? Was this a bet lost?

Sensing an incoming tantrum you set your hand on his hair, playing with his blond locks. You bit your lip, already regretting the ego boost you were about to give him. “…Now that I think about it: maybe I do have a good luck charm.”

The way he jolted up gave you an idea of where this was going, so you braced yourself for the storm about to hit. Shit, pouting might have been easier to sit through.

“D’awwww! Lovemuffin, do you mean it?! Really?! Say it again! Come on, say it to me again!” He somehow wormed his way onto your lap, poking at your cheek in eagerness. His legs straddled your waist, and everyone in the small quiet space turned their heads to look at you.

“What are you doing? Stop, get off of me! no-no it isn't you!” You shrieked, batting his hands away from your face as you shook your head. Now you really regretted saying anything. “You’re making a scene!”

“Sure it isn’t! Aren’t you just the most adorable thing, such a sweetheart to little ol’ me!~” He threw his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He took back everything he previously thought. No matter what you were going to be his! “But if I am your lucky charm, I don’t think I’m working. You always lose!”

“Shut up, Aventurine!” You grumbled, hugging him back with a tenderness your words didn’t hold. Was it possible his words weren’t all faked?

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this more fluffy Aventurine post! Whether it be the sexy or scrunkly menace, I hope you enjoy him! <3 thank you to the requester for this idea

Requests are open!

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word Count: 5.3k

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 - )

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hi beautiful people!! I'm back with the third chap of this story. It took me almost five days to write it, but here it is finally!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!! Xoxo, aby..

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

"I will kill you..."

Fuck, you couldn't have been any clearer with your words. If they made you the slightest bit suspicious, you would blow their heads off. And as much as you had said before that you didn't want to kill them, if they gave you reason even after your warning, you would have no choice.

After that, you had simply thrown some clothes at them, muttering a "take a bath and clean up this mess," pointing to the wet and muddy floor, and then disappeared upstairs.

You had locked yourself in your room (literally) because you had locked the lock with a homemade key that you had made at the beginning of all this when you didn't feel safe even in your room and felt the need to lock it. You had no energy for anything else, and that night you just lay in your bed, hoping to be alive the next day, while you heard little murmurs on the first floor, and also heard the boys walking around, probably cleaning up.

After a few minutes, surprisingly, you managed to fall asleep. ....

----------

The seven men in your house had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before, they had been able to bathe properly and clean up as you had asked, but the fact of their new reality, living with you, the last remaining woman, had not let them rest properly.

And now it was a whole new reality that they had to adjust to, but damn it, it was so hard knowing that you were sleeping one floor away. They had you so close but so far away at the same time that it was almost impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep because there was something going on in their heads that would not leave them alone....

you

your existence, your presence, even the ghost of your perfume that had lingered in the living room and how you had confronted them so powerfully the night before. It was just you.

The next morning, the smell of cooking woke you from your sleep. Hell, you knew how to cook, but you hadn't smelled anything that tasty in years. That meant only one thing, one of the boys was using your kitchen, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious.

You replaced your pajamas with a pair of jogging pants and a tight, slightly short, long-sleeved t-shirt that revealed the delicate little metal that adorned your belly button. You combed your hair a little, and in the bathroom of your room you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Little things in your daily routine that you were still allowed to do.

You put your gun in your makeshift gun belt and unlocked the door to your room. What you didn't expect when you walked out was to see two of the boys sitting against the wall on either side of your door, asleep. Their expressions were unreadable as you looked at them doubtfully, now that you could see them better in the morning sunlight. Their features were relaxed, a stark contrast to how tense they had been the night before, they were wearing the clothes you had thrown at them, and they really were attractive men, but then again, you couldn't stop and thinking about that now.

With a sigh, you looked at them for a few more seconds before shaking your head and walking down the hall to the stairs. You didn't bother to wake them, figuring that if they slept so much, it was because their bodies needed it. Besides, the tension of the night before and the discovery that there was still a woman alive must have exhausted them.

When you reached the first floor after descending the stairs, you could visualize four more guys, scattered randomly on the couch in your living room, also completely asleep. You remembered two of them, one of them you had pointed the gun at and the other was the arrogant shameless jackass, yes, you remembered him very well and now his cute sleeping face had not a hint of arrogance, being able to fool anyone with that appearance of fake innocence.

Well, maybe you were being a bit dramatic but in your defense he had been a jerk to you.

Rolling your eyes at the memory, the delicious smell of food grew stronger as you walked through the living room. You could hear the small clink of the frying pan and the snap of something frying as you approached the kitchen.

When you finally got there, you could see the missing boy, obviously cooking, he hadn't noticed your presence yet, so you decided to lean against the door frame with your arms crossed and a serious expression on your face.

"Morning..." you finally spoke, your voice devoid of emotion as you watched him jump in surprise, "Shit...you scared me..." he turned to you with his eyes a little wide and a hand on his chest in shock as he tried to calm his slightly accelerated breathing.

You almost laughed at the scene but decided to keep your expression serious as you watched him intently. He looked at you for a second and then quickly looked back to the frying pan where he was cooking scrambled eggs while he cleared his throat, "So you're up already?" you could swear he was pretty nervous from the way his body was tense and the silly question he had asked since you were literally standing in front of him.

This was going to be fun.

"Jay, right?..." you clearly remembered his name because that cheeky idiot had called him that the night before as you shushed him, "yeaah, I'm starting to think you're paid to ask stupid questions..." there was a lot of seriousness in your voice as you deliberately gave him a glare, raising both your eyebrows as you watched him open his mouth to try and answer, but he just couldn't.

You remembered his name

and it sounded so beautiful coming out of your lips and it made Jay's head spin a little. Because he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of you, but your presence only, made it difficult.

You spoke again, meeting his gaze, "May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" your eyes had a little gleam of amusement in them now, but your voice was still deadly serious.

Jay looked at you and then at the ladle in his hand that he was using to cook, "w-well...i was making the...breakfast..." he cleared his throat again as you heard him stutter. You nodded as a sound of mock approval passed through your throat, "with my food..." you replied as you shook your head in acknowledgement, pointing to the eggs in the pan.

Your eyes never left his fake calm expression, his body language and voice clearly betraying the nervousness he was trying to hide in your presence.

"Uhu..it's just that I thought you'd all be hungry when you woke up, s-so i thought it would be a good idea to have breakfast ready..." he cursed himself for stuttering so much, damn, instead of a man he looked like a teenager dealing with puberty.

"Ahem..." you let the silence fill the kitchen air with anticipation, you kept looking at him wordlessly and Jay could swear he felt smaller and smaller under your gaze.

And fuck, he literally hadn't done anything wrong, yet your eyes seemed to judge the depths of his soul as the tension was suffocating in the deafening silence, and he hadn't missed the gun you seemed to always carry with you.

You didn't trust them

That was Jay's conclusion and it was obvious, who would in a situation like yours? he couldn't, nor did he have the right to blame you for judging his every move, after all it was basically you against the world.

You, on the other hand, were having quite a bit of fun deliberately making him nervous, curious to see how he would react and how the mere fact of talking to him or making him so nervous would make you wonder if you would have the same effect on the other guys as well.

"You know...I divided the food into portions..." you commented after a few seconds of silence that seemed like an eternity to Jay. At your words, his eyes immediately met yours and he blinked several times, thinking about what to say.

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that, of course, a day ago it was just you, you only had to worry about what you were going to eat, but now with the arrival of the seven of them, the picture as to how long the meal would last was completely different and Jay had overlooked that.

"Next time, ask me before you take my food, even if you have to break down my bedroom door and wake me up, ask me first, is that clear?" your voice was a little more relaxed now, but with the same seriousness as you pulled yourself away from the door frame to move a little closer to the oven where Jay was cooking.

He nodded immediately at your clear command, because yeah, it was a command, no room for argument in your words, "Sure, of course, it won't happen again..." he turned his head to look at you again and was surprised to see you closer than before, swallowing hard as he tried to hold your piercing gaze as he watched you nod at his statement.

"Speaking of my room, who are the two clowns sleeping on my doorstep like they were camping?" your question caught Jay off guard as he stopped cooking for a few seconds and stared at the frying pan, then closed his eyes, frowning and denying in frustration.

Those idiots!

He let out a sigh and then opened his eyes, finally turning off the oven. He slowly turned to you with a flushed face as he seemed to be searching for words to say, "Sorry, I didn't think they mean it when they said they would sleep outside your room..." he licked his lips as he served the scrambled eggs on different plates, "The black haired one is Ni-ki and the gray haired one is Jake..." you finally knew who was who and you laughed inwardly as you saw Jay fighting with himself not to go and wake them both.

"Oh...they thought it would be a good idea to stand guard outside my room..." you said, pressing the buttons even harder as Jay got redder by the second. He ran his hand over his face in frustration, "I'm really sorry...Ni-ki is the youngest of the group and Jake always goes along with his nonsense..." he let out another sigh as he finished his words, apologizing on behalf of his friends.

So Ni-ki and Jake were the reason why everyone was here now. You wondered what had gone through their heads to dare to escape in the middle of the night, not only breaking the curfew and putting themselves in danger, but also being chased by the police.

A few more minutes and they could have caught them, they could have caught you.

The smell of bacon brought you out of your thoughts as for the first time you showed an expression as you watched Jay place it on the plates, next to the scrambled eggs. "You used the bacon Jay, it was saved for special occasions, there were only three packages left and you used them..." your tone was accusatory as your eyes, a little wider than usual, shifted from Jay to the bacon on the plates, repeatedly.

Jay immediately widened his eyes when he heard you and seemed to panic as he realized the implication of your words and began to ramble, "I-I'm so sorry...I had no idea, fuck...I didn't mean it. We can still buy more, I swear I'll replace them and leave everything as it was-..." you cut him off as a few specific words caught your attention.

Uh, buy more? What the fuck did he mean?

"What do you mean, buy more?" your question came out with a mixed tone of annoyance and disbelief "Do you have a job? or money?" your lack of understanding was reflected in every word you said as you looked at Jay for answers.

how could he possibly have a job if only essential services were still running? was he part of any essential services? because if he was, you were screwed. The Essential Services worked with the government, who had offered a billion dollar reward if one of their workers found a woman and gave her to them so they could experience the repopulation of the world with her.

"N-no, I don't have a job…" Jay hurried to speak when he saw your panicked face and how your hand had unconsciously gone to your gun, your expression hardened at his words, you wanted answers and you wanted them now "My father, he was doing very well in business and he left the inheritance to me since i'm an only child..." he clarified the situation quickly but you continued to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"What happened to him, he didn't want to be a millionaire overnight by giving everything to his beloved son?" the sarcasm and annoyance was clear in your voice full of suspicion as you questioned him without measuring your words and that's when Jay's expression changed.

He swallowed as his eyes, now filled with what seemed to be sadness, longing, and frustration, looked at you for a few seconds, only for you to notice that they were filled with...tears...

Oh..

He was going to cry?

"When my mother died from the virus, at the beginning of it all...my father could only hold on to life for a few more months before he decided to give up and go with her...a-and...and...i saw it all..." shit, why did you have to be so loose with your tongue? Jay had lost his parents, who were the only family he had, and not only that, he had to witness his father's suicide, fuck, that must have been really traumatic and fucking painful.

You immediately took your hand away from your gun and looked at him with empathy, you too had lost your whole family, the pain was unbearable and you couldn't imagine his, but, in a way, you shared the same pain, having lost your families...

The boys were all the family he had left

And not just Jay, all seven of them must feel the same way, they had all lost a lot and they recognized each other as the only family they had left. Then in that moment you understood, no matter what big trust issues you had towards them, they were human beings, just like you, they were fragile, just like you, they had lost everything, just like you, and the only thing they were clinging to was the hope that somehow it would get better, they didn't even know where it came from, but they were hoping that all their suffering had not been in vain

just like you

And then, without knowing what to say, you raised one of your hands and placed it gently on one of Jay's shoulders. He took a deep breath as he felt your touch, something that had become immeasurably distant, but that he hadn't realized he was missing until now, the comfort. His eyes, crystallized with unshed tears, looked sideways at your hand on his shoulder before they slid down his cheeks of their own accord, unbidden and silent.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of his crying, at the realization that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in a world where vulnerability killed you "Jay...I...I'm so sorry..." those were the only words your head allowed to leave your lips, but it was enough to express in your now soft and delicate voice that you both shared the same fucking pain.

Jay was overwhelmed for a moment, your words, as simple as they were, brought him a comfort he needed long ago, and that was enough for him to have his arms wrapped around your waist from one moment to the next, pulling your body into an almost trembling embrace that he seemed to need so desperately, an embrace that screamed how much he needed the contact, the affection, the containment and the relief.

For a few seconds your body couldn't react and you were paralyzed. You hadn't had this kind of direct contact in years and it was something that took you and your head by surprise. You felt Jay hide his face in your neck almost instinctively and his tears began to flow more abundantly as he clung to you as if his life depended on it.

It struck you as odd, like, yeah, you understood that the memory of the loss of his family would cause him so much pain, but you had become so used to suppressing your emotions that it was unusual for you to see such a vulnerable and fragile man clinging to you. But after a few seconds of processing the situation, you realized that his crying was not only because he had lost his family, it was also because of the weight that had been on his back all these years, you realized that surely he had also had to suppress what he was feeling, and finding you and being in your arms now was an instant relief and a great weight that he no longer had on his back.

His cry was a liberating one

One that spoke of how much he had endured over time and that he had finally found the relief he had been so desperately waiting for. Then, understanding this, you slowly let your arms wrap around his shoulders, finally returning his embrace as his body visibly relaxed under your gentle touch. Leaving your suspicion behind, you decided to give him a moment of comfort, and decided to listen to the human part of you instead of the rational part.

Heart over brain

Jay couldn't quite process what was going on, he only understood that you had welcomed his distress, that you hadn't taken him away from you, and that he inevitably found overwhelming comfort in your arms. Your scent soothed him, causing him to breathe shakily into the crook of your neck as his cry was silenced. Clinging to you, to your small waist and feeling the warmth of your body against his, helped him to calm down and understand that he was no longer alone, that he could express himself and act like a human being, at least with you.

Your chest felt tight, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the slight trembling in Jay's body, but it diminished as the minutes passed, until finally you could no longer feel his tears soaking your shirt, and his once shaky breathing had been replaced by a soft and slower one. His crying had stopped, but he wasn't letting go and didn't seem to want to for the foreseeable future.

That is, until a clearing of the throat caused the two of you to abruptly separate for some reason. You turned to where the voice was coming from and your brow furrowed in annoyance as you saw the idiot in the kitchen door frame.

Right, 'the idiot' was your name for him.

He looked at you and then at Jay with an expression you couldn't quite understand, his eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenched "bravo.... you were really fast Jay...you got to her before any of us..." his tone was contemptuous, bordering on desperate as he made that ridiculous claim.

Jay on the other hand was sniffling and still looking at him with red eyes with obvious annoyance, "What the fuck, Heeseung Hyung, what kind of bullshit approach is that?..." the anger was clear in his voice as he snapped at him.

So 'the idiot' called himself Heeseung.

You raised an eyebrow at the situation and then sighed, really, what the hell was he trying to imply?

Heeseung had been awakened by the distant smell of scrambled eggs and bacon, his stomach growling with hunger and he just got up from the couch and followed the smell to the kitchen, but he didn't expect what he would find: You and Jay, hugging, obviously very close to each other.

His blood immediately and almost inevitably boiled with envy and jealousy, he knew you weren't an object, but he didn't like the idea of seeing his friends touching you in the slightest, and that was very clear to him:

Heeseung wanted you for himself

and the thought of having to share you with his other six friends was really hard for him to accept. Well, not only for him, the seven of them were extremely territorial and the situation could only get worse 'cause you were the only woman left, but hell, how could he even pretend to get to you when he was acting like a complete idiot?

Heeseung let out an unfunny laugh as he looked at Jay, the tension in the kitchen air was intense "Who do you think you are Jay, you think you have the right to touch her?" Jay frowned in annoyance at Heeseung's accusatory tone "Give it up dude...she's not a fucking object and she doesn't belong to you..." the complaint in Jay's voice was clear as your eyes shifted from him to Heeseung in disbelief.

Is this for real? they were making a jealous scene right in front of you.

"Hey stop talking shit, both of you..." the soft voice you had used with Jay before had been replaced by a cold and cutting tone "I don't belong to anyone and in case you haven't noticed..I'm right here, damn it..." now you were annoyed, really. The moment of consolation with Jay had been nice, but the fact that they were now acting like dogs fighting over meat didn't fucking amuse you at all and seemed hypocritical.

Heeseung and Jay seemed to be in a heated duel of glances, and fuck, if looks could kill, you thought they'd both be ten meters underground long ago, they both seemed to be about to say something, but your angry footsteps coming out of the kitchen made them both shut up.

Your angry footsteps echoed through the living room and down the stairs, and then there was a loud slamming of the door. You had locked yourself in your room. Heeseung and Jay could clearly feel your anger, so they were about to start fighting again, because the rivalry for your attention had already begun.

"Enough..." Jungwon's cold and cutting voice echoed in the kitchen, cutting off every word that came out of his elders' mouths. He walked into the kitchen, sipping a glass of water as if it was his home, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, finally turning his gaze to Heeseung and Jay.

"Shame on you, you're the most grown up of the group..." his voice was cold as he clenched his jaw in clear annoyance "What do you want to achieve by behaving like this?...you're going to scare her away and get her to throw us all out on the street.... " He sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly, "We've only been here one night, not even a full day, and you're already fighting to see which one of you gets her attention first? very mature of you, really..." the sarcasm and annoyance were very clear in his firm and cutting voice.

The air was suffocating for both Heeseung and Jay, because when Jungwon was serious and even more so when he was angry, it was scary, so much so that neither of them could look him in the eyes, even if their expressions were hard, even if they were annoyed and even if they had the urge to answer him, neither of them did it "Let this shit not happen again, we don't want to scare her, we want to make her feel comfortable and gain her trust..." his statement was firm, leaving no room for retorts "You two brag about how much sex you had but you have no fucking idea how to treat a woman...", A dry laugh without a hint of grace left his lips, to which Heeseung and Jay only sigh and nod slightly at Jungwon's cutting words, and that was enough for him to drop the subject and leave the kitchen, but not before giving them both a warning look and taking one of the plates of egg and bacon.

---------

It was something that really made you angry. Because you hadn't allowed them to stay to be treated like a damned object, but on the other hand, you felt desired. Even though you knew that it was something inevitable because there were no more women to desire, something inside you felt good about it, something about possessiveness and jealousy made you sigh, not in anger but in satisfaction. You didn't think you were a person with a twisted mind, or at least you didn't give that image. But you were frustrated and pleased at the same time that they couldn't take more than a whole day to start fighting over you.

You knew it was going to happen eventually, they were men around your age, all damn attractive, so you suspected they'd never been rejected by women before, and you were also very attractive as far as you were concerned. So it wasn't surprising that they were jealous or fought over you, but you didn't expect them to let it show so quickly. Even though you didn't want to let them off so easily, it was clear that you didn't trust them yet and that you needed to get to know them better before you could allow yourself to feel completely at ease.

Now, locked in your room, you thought about the moment you had spent with Jay: it was beautiful, sad and nostalgic, but beautiful at the same time. Feeling his strong arms around you affected you more than you wanted, but you couldn't blame yourself, you hadn't had human contact for years and this embrace was something that surprised you, your conscience was clear, you were a human too and humans were social beings, made to be accompanied, not alone.

They had been together all these years, but you had faced a loneliness that ate you up more and more every day, then you told yourself that enjoying a hug was not a bad thing. The slam of the door you had slammed was enough for the aforementioned Jake and Ni-ki to stop camping outside your room and join the other boys downstairs, wondering what had happened.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts and made you jump slightly in your bed, "Miss, it's me...the red haired boy, my name is Jungwon..." you heard a voice that was already familiar. Of course, the red haired boy, the one who had tried to calm the whole atmosphere between you and the idiot when you had pointed your gun at him.

With some confusion, you got off your bed and unlocked the door, only to see Jungwon standing on the other side with a plate of egg and bacon that smelled damn good. He held the plate out to you with a slight grimace, "You should have breakfast, miss..." he suggested and you stepped aside and let him into your room, sitting on the edge of your bed without thinking much about it.

Jungwon followed you with a careful step, not wanting to intrude into your space, your room.

Fuck, YOUR room.

He swallowed hard when he realized that he was in a woman's room, a very attractive woman, something that had never happened to him because before all this he had never dated, calling them a waste of time and preferring to study and do well academically. The only room he had ever been in was his sister's room or his mother's room, so this was new to him and he couldn't help but take a quick look around, scanning your space with curious and longing eyes.

"Thank you, Jungwon..." your voice snapped him out of his trance and he quickly nodded to your words, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when he heard you call his name, "Yeah, it's nothing...it's the least I could do after those idiots made that scene in front of you..." he said regretfully as he placed the plate on some of your furniture to then put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

You looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding, but something distracted you.

He really was, just so cute.

Seeing your silence, he took the liberty of continuing, "I apologize in their stead, Miss..." He spoke with firmness and determination as he looked at you intently, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again..." his voice was commanding, practically with born leadership, you frowned with a mixture of confusion and surprise, but didn't reply. He seemed to have this under control so easily, so you just gave him a nod.

You couldn't deny that you were fascinated by Jungwon, you wanted to know him better. He seemed to be someone very intelligent, who simply radiated confidence, but not the kind of confidence that scares you, but the kind that makes you feel a certain respect for him.

What you didn't know was that inside he was trying to ignore your precious presence, as well as the overwhelming smell of you that surrounded every corner of your room. He held himself back, he wanted to keep himself sane.

or at least appear to be.

But his legs were almost shaking and his composure was about to explode at the thought of being alone with you for the first time, alone with a woman who was not a member of his family for the first time in his life. He didn't want you to see the strong effect you had on him, not yet, so he simply nodded at your silence and turned with the intention of leaving your room, not only to give you your space, but also not to lose control of himself. But one thing he was sure of: if he had to fight with his friends for you, he would do it without any doubt, he just didn't want to show himself as immature as Heeseung and Jay had done.

"____...." your voice stopped his footsteps before he could leave your room, he instead turned around and looked at you curiously, giving you room to continue talking "That's my name...don't call me Miss anymore, okay?" Your words took him by surprise but he nodded without hesitation, all his tough exterior melted away as the blush came to his face at a ridiculous speed "Okay ___ Noona..." now it was your turn to blush.

Fuck, you couldn't deny that you loved being called that name, it was one of your weaknesses and Jungwon had found it out without any trouble.

He gave you a shy little smile, letting you see his adorable dimples that you hadn't been able to see before.

Shit, he was really cute.

He walked out of your room with his heart beating fast and you allowed yourself to smile for a few seconds. They all had different personalities and you would have to learn to deal with each of them, but from your point of view, it wouldn't be that hard if they started acting like Jungwon.

It would be a long and hard process, but one that you were sure would be worth it...

Taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @merwdusa @elairah @suhwife @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonline-blog @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsadtoday @immelissaaa

not the reader losing it for Jungwon lmao

[knavesflames]

since we are both sick in the head, i request biker arle headcanons (both sfw and nsfw)

oouuhhh thinking about biker arle who looks all intimidating and has tattoos showing up to your doorstep with flowers and melts when shes around you

im gonna throw up

thankyouiloveyoubyee

We truly are sick in the head. Literally what is it about this woman that has us in such a chokehold actually it’s so stupid but UGH. I have not once simped over a fictional woman as hard as this. Anyway, screaming, crying, throwing up at the thought of her

Anyone notice the references to a couple people in server?

Word count: 1159

Contents: fluff, soft arle, she’s scary but she’s not

Fluff utc!

Arlecchino. Everyone knows her. Who wouldn’t know the biker filled with tattoos, going around cursing like a sailor and never being seen without that stupid motorbike? She’s scary, intimidating. Even the grown adults shy away when they hear the familiar engine from afar, or refuse to look at her when she grumbles out that she wants to buy coffee. Even the store owner who supplies her parts for her bike and accessories for her stumbles over his words when she says she wants a new helmet. This one just doesn’t make her hair look nice when she takes it off, she says. The store owner is too intimidated to correct her, and tell her that it is not, in fact, the helmet’s fault.

The people in town also seem to be a little wary around you, too. They seem to know that if they say the wrong thing, or cause your face to fall or crumple, or cause tears to fall from your pretty eyes, that they’ll soon be facing the wrath of Arlecchino. Nobody seems to understand how you managed to break through her walls, how someone like you, so opposite Arlecchino, has her melting. Everyone sees it. Do they comment on it? Do they want to face her piercing glare, and whatever else she would do? Not a chance. It’s a little comical, though, seeing someone so tough looking, waiting outside of a store holding your cat, holding her in her arms while she feeds it treats every so often, going so far as to buy and place a bandana around her neck to surprise you. She does this all with a straight face, of course. It’s second nature to her, she’ll do anything for that smile of yours, the same smile that makes her feel like her insides have been set ablaze, makes her feel like a blushing teenager all over again.

You yourself think it’s adorable. Walking out of the store to see her holding your beloved cat (you joke that the cat is more important than her to see her pout) (you reassure her straight after that they’re on the same level, just to watch her pale cheeks flush a light pink). In reality, she makes you melt just as much. You have to hide the grin forming on your face when she speaks to you in that stoic voice she always has.

“Look. She looks dashing, I think. Matches my bike. I should get her a helmet.. I will ask someone to custom make one, I can take her on rides.” You cut her off immediately with an “absolutely not. My cat is not riding on a motorcycle.”

“Oh. Okay. I am still getting her a helmet. I want us to match.” She responds, her face completely blank, which makes everything funnier. You stand on your toes to kiss her cheek, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes widen. “My two favourite beings staying safe, wonderful.”

Even the notion that she’s one of your favourite things has her turning on her heel to conceal the ever growing blush on her face. She finds herself blushing often when she’s around you, she realises. She realises also that her words falter when you tell her to not speed, to make sure she’s wearing the correct material, that no, she doesn’t need to try and look sexy, that you find her the sexiest when she’s wearing the correct things.

She’s out riding for longer than usual, this time. The evening is dragging on, and she ALWAYS texts you when she’s home. She knows how you worry.

She is, actually, finished with her evening ride. Riding her bike as the sun sets is freeing for her. She likes to picture all of the negative shit being left in the wind as she drives. This evening, however, she drove past a field. A field decorated with different wild flowers she just knows you’d love. So, she slows to a stop, parking her bike in a way she knows won’t get it damaged. Her bike is her prized possession, second to you. She wades through the flowers, finding the best ones, slicing the stalk with her nails, the ones she kept long and not filed blunt (for your sake, of course). She grumbles to herself when the ovule gets under her nails. Once she deems the small bouquet good enough, she drives to you. Stopping just a little ways from you, she ties her boot lace around the stalks of the flowers, tying a clumsy bow. Arlecchino being Arlecchino, fixes herself as best as she can before she finds her feet moving towards your door.

When you rush to open the door after hearing her familiar knocking pattern, your own words falter for once. There she is. Stood in that shirt she KNOWS shows off her arms and the tattoos she knows you love, stood in those jeans she and you know all too well shows off her ass. She’s caught you staring, it’s the reason she wears them. And in her hand sits a messy, slightly wilted bouquet of flowers, clearly handpicked, hand cut (or rather, nail cut, you can see the residue under her nails), tied clumsily with a boot lace of all things.

“Here,” she mutters, “I thought you’d like these. Sorry they’re all.. weird.” You’re silent for a few seconds before she speaks again, a little defeat in her tone as she glances away, a sad frown twisting at her features despite her attempting to hide it. “Never mind. It was stupid. They’re ugly now, anyway. Have a good night.”

She goes to turn, but your hand shoots out and wraps around her bicep before she can leave. “Stop it. I love them. I don’t know what to say because you’re so.. adorable.”

“I’m what.” Her voice almost sounds shocked, if it wasn’t for the rough attempt at stoicism. She never thought she’d be called adorable in her life. She’s not meant to be adorable. She doesn’t want to be adorable. Her insides say otherwise, when she sees your soft eyes, filled with small tears, and your eyebrows furrowed in a look of pure adoration. You snatch the flowers before she can take them away, immediately walking into your home and placing them in a vase in the middle of your living room. She watches, straight faced, no indication of her feelings until she huffs, her face bright red.

“Turn on the air condition. It’s fucking hot in here. Where’s that kitty of yours, I want to see if she liked the fox toy I bought her.”

You look at her once more, a giggle rising in your throat as you tilt your head towards the cat tower, your eyes following as she moves towards it. You realise just how much you love this woman. At the same time, she realises she probably wants to spend her life with you, if you’d let her.

[bobbyseyesmile]

Attitude | Part 3

Summary: Y/N has to think about what she wants: a rather safe life with Shane but she‘ll lose her sanity and might explore parts of her own mind she must sacrifice or will she put a bullet, between his perfect brown eyes, as the rational side of her brain tries to advise her.

A/N: soo uhm, i‘m sorry (no i‘m not lol) this is filth. HAVE FUN also thanks to my lovely @angel-litter who inspired me to write a third part

Characters: Dark!ShaneWalsh x Reader

WARNINGS: age gap (reader is 18+) / explicit sexual content, swearing - I can’t stress enough that this is a dark fic: Shane is a mean motherfucker and just takes what he wants. Don’t like, don’t read. You’ve been warned.

Trigger warning: dub-con | 18+

🔞 MINORS DNI below the cut! 🔞

➻ Part 2 [M]

The sun was setting over the horizon, casting long shadows over the prison walls. The world was quiet, save for the distant groans of walkers and the occasional rustle of leaves.

The group had settled for the evening, a small fire crackling in the front yard, warming the people who stood guard for the night. Shane Walsh sat on the outskirts, cleaning his gun with practiced ease. He glanced up, his eyes narrowing as you approached.

"Something you need, princess?" Shane drawled, his voice tinged with mockery.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just checking to make sure you’re not planning to run off again. Wouldn’t want the group’s supposed protector to abandon us."

Shane smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. He knew exactly what you were getting at: On last week’s supply run he disappeared for hours, nobody knew where he went and Rick got nervous as the hours passed by. When the sun began to set Shane casually walked towards the prison, not even batting an eye that almost everyone was looking for him.

Everyone but you. You kept telling yourself to stay away from him, not getting pulled into the dark abyss that surrounded Shane Walsh. He was a hothead and dangerous as he preferred to work alone instead of teams.

Your father worried a lot about the future; your mom’s pregnancy wasn’t helping at all. Thankfully you found the prison and its large protective walls that kept you save; as long as everyone was willing to do their part.

Except Shane fucking Walsh.

Shane’s eyes shamelessly wandered over your body, relishing the memories when you were a whimpering hot mess. His whimpering and hot mess. The older man knew exactly what chokehold he had over you and he so wished to make that chokehold a reality.

“Don’t worry about grown men business, little girl. Get your sexy ass back to the others, I’m sure your daddy needs you to count all the peas in the kitchen.”

Rage boiled inside your stomach and you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest as its been months since you’ve been this close to him. “You know, Shane, it’s a wonder you keep others and yourself safe with that big ego of yours. Must be hard to fit through the doorways.”

It wasn’t your best comeback but something in his eyes flickered; a tiny hint of anger that washed over his face, giving you a feeling of satisfaction.

Shane chuckled, leaning back and taking in the sight in front of him. "My ego ain’t the only thing big but you already know that, don’t you baby?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you refused to back down. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just a big fish in a small pond."

"Oh, is that so?" Shane stood up, his towering presence making your heart race even more. He stepped closer, bodies almost touching. "You seem pretty interested in this big fish even though you try so hard to stay away from me."

You gulped and put a hand on his chest to keep some distance between, afraid someone might be watching you. “Sh-shut up, Shane.” His large hand wrapped around your wrist, giving it a harsh tug to close the distance between your bodies. You let out a small whimper; music to his ears and it made him contemplate the idea of fucking you right here right now.

“Careful, lamb, or I might need to remind you of your past lessons… but you’re not entirely hating the idea of that, do you?”

Your pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. You turned your face to escape his intense stare, but Shane was relentless. His grip on your chin was firm, forcing you to face him again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. You wan’t me on your side, ya listen? Don’t push me away or ya won’t like the outcome.”

His voice was low and dangerous, each word sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched as you met his gaze, the raw power and emotion in his eyes both thrilling and terrifying.

“Shane-“ you whimpered “You’re hurting me.”

His dark eyes glistening with excitement. “Good. I know you like it.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your chest. You hated how he made you feel, how he could so easily break through your defenses. But beneath the anger, there was something else—something that scared you even more than Shane’s crazy look. You were falling for him. Falling hard.

Shane's hand moved from your chin to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You feel that?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender. "That's your heart racing because of me.” His thumb continued to caress the soft skin until he positioned it under your chin, chocking you in a harsh grip.

“And I bet that’s your sweet lil' pussy, all flustered and dripping, begging for my cock. Ain’t that right, girl?”

As fast as his grip appeared on your neck it also disappeared as your father turned around the corner.

“There you are, sweetheart!” he spoke, voice soft and filled with love as he laid eyes on you. “Your mom needs you in the infirmary. Hershel’s already with her.”

Rick’s eyes wandered between you. “Everything alright here?”

“Well, I found Y/N wandering all alone out here. She should be inside after curfew.” Shane clicked his tongue as you threw him a spiteful glance. A smirk played around his lips as your father agreed.

“He’s right, Y/N. You know the rules; only the designated guards are allowed outside after 10 pm.”

“But, dad-“

“Zip it, honey. Go help your mother, she’s having another nauseous episode.”

“Great…” you whispered under your breath but softened your gaze when you noticed your father’s look. He was tired. “Okay, I’ll look after her.”

“That’s my baby girl.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead before starting to walk away. Shane waited for him to disappear around the corner before giving your ass a harsh slap.

“Ouch! What the fu-“

“Think of me when you bury your fingers in that sweet cunt tonight. As you do every night.” He whispered in your ear before giving you a slight push. “Now go.”

Almost two weeks passed and you managed to stay out of Shanes way, he was more impulsive than ever. Running around, barking commands and undermining your father as the leader of the group. You despised it, truly hated him and his behaviour but still you lied awake at night, thinking about his fingers and the way they would feel inside y-

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You teared your mind away from the sinful fantasies it fabricated and turned your head towards your father. The group was sitting around a big table, eating dinner and discussing plans for the oncoming days.

“Huh?” you raised your eyebrows and saw as Shane frowned at you.

“Hell naw, she’s not even listening. Damn, Rick! She’s not fucking ready!” Your father sighed, rubbing his forehead in annoyment.

“No! I listened, I’m ready!” you quickly lied and Shanes eye twitched. He knew you were lying but of course Rick didn’t notice it.

“Really?” he asked and you quickly nodded, a tad to enthusiastic.

“Fine. Then it’s settled; you and Shane go on the supply run for this week.” You nodded once again, way less excited now and looked at Shane who had his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. “You listen to everything he says, is that clear, Y/N?”

Shane smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, she will, Rick. She will.”

The next day the afternoon sun was setting, casting a dim, ominous light over the abandoned neighborhood. You and Shane moved cautiously through the empty streets, listening for any signs of movement.

"Stay close," Shane ordered, his voice gruff.

"I can take care of myself," you shot back but he ignored your sassiness as leaves rustled in distance.

As you approached an old, dilapidated house, the distant groans of walkers grew louder.

"Great," you muttered. "Just what we needed."

"Inside," Shane barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the house.

Shane pushed you through the door, slamming it shut behind you. He quickly pushed a heavy piece of furniture against it, barricading you in. The walkers outside pounded against the walls, their growls echoing through the house.

You anxiously paced the room, nerves on edge. "This is just perfect. We’re trapped."

Shane ignored you, his focus on securing the surroundings. "We’ll be fine. Just stay quiet."

You stopped and glared at him. "You always think you know best, don’t you?"

Shane turned to face you, his eyes cold and hard. "Someone has to keep their head on straight. You’re too busy playing daddies little girl."

"Playing what?!" your voice rose. "I'm trying to survive, just like you!"

Shane stepped closer, his presence intimidating. "You think you can survive without me? You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me."

Your heart pounded, a mix of fear and anger flooding your veins. "I don’t need you, Shane. I can handle myself." He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "You keep telling yourself that, princess. But we both know the truth: your little crush isn’t that little anymore. You’re pathetic trying to deny it.”

You took a step back, but Shane followed, his eyes dark with a dangerous intensity. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded but your voice gave away. "Why do you have to be so… mean?"

"Mean?" Shane’s voice was low and menacing. "You think this is mean? You haven’t seen anything yet. I’ve been holding back, but maybe it’s time you learned just how serious I am."

Your breath hitched as Shane backed you against the wall, his body towering over you. "Shane, stop," you said, voice trembling.

"Stop? Why would I stop? You need to understand something, Y/N. You’re mine. You belong to me. And I’m not letting anyone, or anything, take you away."

Shane studied your eyes; they were filled with a mix of fear and defiance. "You don’t own me, Shane. I’m not yours to control."

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "You think you have a choice? You think you can just walk away? You can’t, I won’t let you, ever.”

His lips crashed onto your own, fierce and demanding, his hands roaming possessively over your body. You tried to push him away, your brain telling you to get away from him but the wetness between your legs mocked you. Your own body betrayed you.

Shane’s hands gripping your waist, pulling you against his hard chest, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and arousal. You let out a moan as his knee pushed against your clothed sex, roughly rubbing you through your jeans. You needed more, more of him.

“Shane-“

“Shut up.” He spit back, his fingers ripping the button off your pants. “All I want to hear are those pretty moans, you understand?” You wanted to protest but the look in his eyes made you change your mind so you just nodded. “Good girl.”

You sighed when his fingers finally touched you, he stroked them over the drenched material of your panties. “Of course.” he mocked and shoved a finger inside your entrance.

He set a fast and rough rhythm but you didn’t mind, all that mattered was the pure bliss that slowly spread through your system. “M-more.” you begged and it made him snort.

“Needy little whore. You can’t handle more but I’ll give it to you anyways.” A second finger entered you, spreading the tight walls to his liking.

Shane watched your face, your hooded eyes and slightly parted lips with a small whimper escaping here and there. But he needed you to understand that you were his, there was no escape from him. He needed you to scream his name.

“Fuck, darling, your little cunt is tight. This I will enjoy-“ You opened your eyes and glanced at his hardened cock, his tip red and angry and glistening with precum. Shane knew you were a virgin and it almost made him lose his mind as he imagined taking your innocence away for the first time. He saw the fear in your eyes and he loved it.

He lifted you up, slowly pushing inside you, watching all the emotions washing over your face and you never looked more beautiful to him.

“I c-can’t-“ you whimpered and he came to a stop, waiting for your eyes to open. When you did you saw his eyes soften, almost tenderly. But just a moment later you noticed the smirk around his lips. “You will.”

His cock suddenly entered you with such a force it squeezed all air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping between his chest and the wall he had caged you in. The sharp pain made your brain panic but your body, oh your body welcomed him with such ease it was almost embarrassing.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight-“ he groaned and his fingers dug into the soft skin at your hips. It would leave marks, you were sure, but couldn’t care less.

The pain slowly faded into a completely unique and new feeling, a feeling deep inside you. Something your fingers never managed to even scratch the surface of it. You bit your lips till you tasted blood, his length filling you up at a relentlessly pace. Shanes hand circled around your delicate neck, the grip of his fingers began to tighten leaving you chocking around them. The lack of air left your brain in a hazy state.

You weren’t even sure how it was possible for him to be this deep inside you; his length made it seem impossible but your body proved you wrong as your hungry cunt swallowed him whole. Shane felt his release approaching the more he watched your face and listening to your sloppy moans.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth hung open for a silent cry but nothing came out as your orgasm washed over you in intense waves; your blood rushing in your ears as you came all over his dick.

Shane roughly claimed your lips once again, dominating the kiss as it left you literally breathless. His grip on your waist increased, threatening to break you in half as he fucked you through both of your highs. He gave one final thrust before he came hot and heavy, painting your insides white.

The euphoria from your first time quickly vanished as you felt the warm liquid dripping down your legs. Shane noticed the panic in your eyes and let out a hoarse chuckle.

“Thought I was joking when I said I’ll never let ya go, huh? You’re fucking mine forever, princess.”

The rational part inside you was ready to run, to grab the nearest object and bash it over his head but the other part, the part that was hopelessly in love with this psychopath of a man, stayed still.

Accepting your new fate as you felt his lips on your ear:

“And I’ll kill everyone that comes between us.”

[dr5amatic]

THE AGONY OF UNMADE DECISIONS ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel if we were villains by m.l. rio. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

why are you here? you should know by now i’m not going to tell you anything.

seems safer to let sleeping dogs lie.

it must eat you alive, not knowing. not knowing who, not knowing how, not knowing why.

you’ve kept your secrets all this time. it would drive anyone else crazy. why do it?

want to come out for a smoke? might help you relax.

your time will come to be the tragic hero.

let’s go skinny-dipping! i haven’t been swimming all summer.

seems like just yesterday my dad was shouting at me for throwing my life away.

you can’t do good work if you’re hiding, so we’re going to get all of the ugliness out in the open.

if you haven’t made any enemies in life, you’ve been living too safely.

you make a surprisingly convincing villain.

i know what you’re doing. you’re baiting me.

i don’t know about you, but i want to get cleaned up and go to bed and pretend this didn’t happen for like at least eight hours.

i think we were all fucked up from the start.

you promised me you wouldn’t say a word, so don’t.

i’m sorry, what the fuck just happened?

you know, people aren’t going to put up with your bullshit for much longer.

you’re probably the only person he’d listen to.

where’ve you been all night?

i was making the rounds for a while, but i got overwhelmed and snuck upstairs to do some reading.

i’m done with this fucking party, with all of them down there. what do you want?

why don’t you just tell me what happened? no performance. no poetics.

we can’t just stand around arguing about how it happened, we have to do something.

look, i know you have a pathological need to play the hero, but right now you need to stop and ask yourself if that’s really what’s best for everyone.

someone’s dead and you don’t know where you were?

before last night, everything was fine.

i care about you, and what might happen if you carry on like this.

he wasn’t an easy person to like, but he was an easy person to love.

what do you do? ignore your grief, or indulge in it?

maybe every day we let grief in, we’ll also let a little bit of it out, and eventually we’ll be able to breathe again.

i’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.

it doesn’t add up. we’re missing something.

you look like you might need someone to carry you.

i’m going to bed unless you’ve got something to say.

i’ve had enough of your sexual misadventures for one year, thanks.

it’s fucking freesing and i’m not leaving you out here alone.

when did we become such terrible people?

why don’t we get a drink or something? just us. i can’t think straight with everyone watching like we’re a reality show.

i just–maybe it’s because you’re you, and i mean, look at you–but i don’t understand. why me? i’m nobody.

you know, everyone calls you ‘nice,’ but that’s not the word. you’re good. you’re so good you have no idea how good you are.

we carry on as usual, or they’re going to want to ask all kinds of questions we don’t want to answer.

are you going to cold-shoulder me all night?

what’s gotten into you? you don’t sound like yourself.

you’re smarter than this. 

i’m not keeping any more secrets for you.

you can justify anything if you do it poetically enough.

you’re just going to leave me?

i think hell may have frozen over.

when you enter the theatre, there are three things you must leave at the door: dignity, modesty, and personal space.

anything can feel like punishment if you’re taught poorly.

you can’t quantify humanity. you can’t measure it–not the way you mean to. people are passionate and flawed and fallible. they make mistakes. their memories fade. their eyes deceive them.

i want so badly to be so mad at you that i could kill you, but i can’t, so i’m mad at myself instead. do you even understand how unfair that is?

i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want to hurt the whole world.

why don’t you sit, and i’ll pour tea?

he was my friend—much more than that, truthfully—and that was enough. i didn’t need to know why.

can i help? i still–i want to help.

let me put myself back together and then i’ll come find you.

it’s like i look at you and suddenly the sonnets make sense.

tell me you didn’t do it.

i never wanted you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.

we have to go back and act like nothing’s wrong. we’ve got to get through tonight, and then we’ll worry about it. all right?

you know, it’s not too late if there’s another version of the truth you want to tell me.

will you rest easier with one less mystery on your mind?

you were real to me. sometimes i thought you were the only real thing.

[hrts4hanniehae]

Dino's confession

*this is not a representation of the members of svt irl. y/n race and character type will be pre-determined to allow for a better plot.

ty @fairyofhour for the help!!

masterlist

23 Jan 2018

"Hello everyone!! Today we are live with our Gongju and Maknae!" - Jeonghan

"Oppa, I already told you to stop calling me that!" - (Y/N)

Jeonghan, Hoshi, Y/N and Jun sat on the couch while Dino sat on the floor.

"Someone is asking if Dino is comfortable on the floor." - Hoshi

"I'm lonely here." - Dino

"If I join you will you still be lonely?" - Y/N

Y/N immediately got onto floor and sat beside Dino.

"Don’t do things like that you’ll make my heart race more..." - Dino

Nobody thought much of this statement because Y/N and Dino were naturally already very close. But Y/N could feel the change in tone when he said that. It wasn't in a joking tone. It sounded so... real

…

After the live, Y/N confronted Dino.

The dressing room was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound as Y/N stood in front of Dino. His earlier words during the live replayed in her mind, and she couldn’t ignore the shift in his tone. This wasn’t the playful teasing she was used to. It felt... real.

"Dino," Y/N started hesitantly, her voice soft but steady. "What did you mean earlier? When you said your heart raced?"

Dino looked down at his hands, avoiding her gaze. He let out a shaky breath, his usual confident demeanor nowhere to be found. "I..." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I wasn’t joking, Y/N."

Her eyes widened slightly, her heart skipping a beat. "You weren’t?"

"No," he admitted quietly, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. His dark eyes were filled with vulnerability, something she rarely saw from him. "Y/N, I’ve liked you for years... since our debut, actually." He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "I’ve tried to hide it because... well, we’re idols. We’re in the same group. And I didn’t want to ruin what we have."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had always been close to Dino—he was her safe space in the chaotic world of being an idol—but this? She hadn’t seen it coming.

"Dino..." she whispered, unsure of what to say.

"I know it’s selfish," he continued quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I know how much scrutiny we already get as a co-ed group. If anyone found out about this—about us—it could cause problems for everyone. For you, for me, for the group." He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "But I couldn’t keep it in anymore."

There was a long pause as Y/N processed his words. The weight of their reality as idols pressed heavily on her chest. She knew he was right—their every move was watched, analyzed, judged. But as she looked at him now, vulnerable and honest in a way he rarely allowed himself to be, she couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through her chest.

"Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" she asked softly.

Dino’s lips quirked into a small, sad smile. "Because I didn’t want to lose you—not as a friend, not as someone I care about so much."

Y/N stepped closer to him then, her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, tentatively, she reached out and took his hand in hers. His eyes widened at the gesture, and she could feel how clammy his palm was against hers.

"Dino," she said gently, giving his hand a small squeeze. "I don’t know what this means for us yet... but I don’t want to lose you either."

His gaze softened at her words, and for the first time that night, a genuine smile spread across his face—a smile that made her heart flutter.

"You mean that?" he asked quietly.

"I do," Y/N replied with a shy smile of her own.

They stood there for a moment longer, their hands intertwined like they were holding onto something fragile yet precious. Dino’s thumb began to trace small circles on the back of her hand—a simple gesture that made warmth bloom in her chest.

"Whatever happens," Y/N said softly, meeting his gaze with determination despite the uncertainty ahead, "we’ll figure it out together."

Dino nodded slowly, his grip on her hand tightening just slightly as if grounding himself in this small but significant moment. "Together," he echoed.

“Just us,” Dino murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, her heart racing. And then, in a moment of pure vulnerability, Dino leaned in and pressed the softest, briefest kiss to her lips - a promise, a secret, their own little world.

“Just us,” she echoed.

And for now—for this one fleeting moment—it felt like enough.

current taglist: @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester @belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupshour @sooheehan @heesbees @hyuckxtagram @kissesfrmwonwoo @httphera @porridgesblog @miyx-amour

[specialagentlokitty]

MHA x teen!reader - how time changes us

HELLOOOOO💓💓 could you maybe write something with like class 1-a were they all think the reader betrayed them by joining the lov, but in reality they were just helping the pros with some undercover work. or the same concept, but the reader was taken with bakugou during the training camp, and they force bakugou to leave when kiri calls for him like they shield him to make sure he gets away(maybe a villain was gonna attack him). They think the reader betrayed them, but the reader is safe and everything and returns to school the next day, and everyone is asking them questions about it, or they seem nervous to be around them, so they basically say yk I would never betray you guys like ever? Something along the lines of that!! - Anon💜

Why the villains had taken you as well as Bakugo was a little confusing to you, you just sat quietly while they spoke to your classmate.

Even when the heroes came to rescue you both, you noticed the villains were careful to keep you close as well.

You glanced at the other student, and you looked at the sky.

“Bakugo!” You hissed.

Making your way over, you pointed upwards and he grinned a little bit.

“About damm time!”

You both started to run, but you soon realised you weren’t going to have enough power to get as high as he could.

He was their main target, if you could get him out of there it would at least save the rest of them from coming back for now.

You’d figure out the rest along the way.

Placing your hand on his back, you whispered something, and he was suddenly launched into the air.

“What the hell?!”

He looked down at you, and you stopped running, holding your hand out, you whispered something else, and he felt a surge of power go through him, enhancing his quirk, letting him go higher.

You on the other hand stayed on the ground, raising your hands as the villains surrounded you with furious looks on their faces.

“Let’s go.” Shigaraki hissed.

You debated running, but with all the fighting, with all the debris, and the fact you had used your limit on your magic.

You nodded, standing up, and Shigaraki grabbed your arm, keeping one finger off you, and you were taken with them.

You were kept restrained while they tried to get information out of you, demanding information and you refused to tell them anything.

When you were left alone, you were focusing your magic into a small corner of the room, which was why you hadn’t managed to escape.

If you could surge enough magic into the spot, you would be able to find this place again, bring the league of villains down.

Because of this, you delayed your escape, using it to bid your time, also gathering information as you went.

You weren’t all that confident when it came to being a hero, or your quirk, but you wanted to help, especially now.

When you did finally manage to slip away, you ran down the streets barefoot, you had stepped on glass and all sorts of things while running.

You hid behind some large bins, arms wrapped around your knees, catching your breath.

Pushing yourself up, you walked back into the street, pulling your jacket up a little bit as you carefully walked around.

There was a few whispers from people who walked past you but nobody said anything.

You made your way through the city on foot, which was agony, and the closer you got to UA the more nervous you felt.

You stopped by a small store, picking up a news paper as you looked at the headline.

UA students betrays heroes, working with league of Villains.

You slowly set it back down, running a hand up and down your arm as you looked around nervously.

A lot of people were looking at you now, some of them on the phone, and you began to run away again, trying to find somewhere to hide.

You weren’t a traitor, you weren’t a villain.

You found your way under a bridge, and you dropped yourself down there, letting out a little sob as you tried to wipe your eyes.

Clearly you couldn’t go back to UA, you didn’t know if the villains were still looking for you.

Toga must’ve stolen your blood when you went unconscious, you didn’t know how much she had, or how long she had been framing you for.

You couldn’t go back to school, or the hospital, or back to your apartment, so you stayed hidden the best you could.

You still had all the information that you had been saving up, and you didn’t know what to do with it, so you ripped a poster down from a wall, placing your hand on the back.

You whispered and enchantment on it, and folded it into a paper airplane, throwing it towards UA, not knowing where else to send it.

You had enchanted it so that only Nezu would be open to unlock the message, not wanting it to go into the wrong hands.

Standing on the edge of the building, hands in your pockets.

“Hey!”

Spinning around, you looked at the hero who was standing in front of you, you didn’t recognise her, but she seemed to recognise you.

“I’m sorry!”

Holding your hand out, you whispered another enchantment, trapping her in a seal.

“It’ll wear off in an hour!”

With that, you jumped down, using your seals as stairs to get down to the street, and you started TJ run once more.

You carefully darted between people, mindful not to hurt them in anyway as you ran back to your usual hiding spot.

You stumbled to a stop, falling over and you scrambled to get back up to try and get away from the hero standing there.

“Go away!” You shouted.

“(Y/N) stop running!” Aizawa shouted back.

“I’m sorry!”

You tried to use your quirk, but you couldn’t, so instead you ran into a crowd of people so he lost you.

Aizawa sighed, looking to All Might and he shook his head.

“Any luck on your end?” He asked.

“No.” All Might sighed, “what’s the kid running from?”

“If I had to guess, they’ve probably seen the headlines by now and assume they’re going to be arrested.”

The heroes kept trying to catch you, and eventually they managed to find you when you were admitted to the hospital with an infection.

When you woke up, you saw that the a police officer and All Might were in your room talking in the corner.

You panicked and ripped the wires out of your arm, jumping out of the bed and straight towards the open window.

“Stop running!” All Might called out.

He managed to catch you before you could get away, and he sat you back down, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey you’re alright. You’re not in trouble, Nezu got your note.” The officer said.

You frowned a little bit, shuffling away from them.

“We aren’t sure exactly what happened, but we know you didn’t commit any of those crimes. You’re going to be moved to UA where recovery girl can help with your infection.”

You didn’t have much of a choice in the move, and you sat awkwardly in your bed in the nurses office, hands in your lap as Nezu tried speaking with you.

The principal sighed a little bit.

“Young (Y/N), you’re in no trouble. We just want to make sure you’re alright.”

You looked away, turning your back to them instead.

When the door was opened you looked up at Midoriya who stood frozen in place as he looked at you.

You glanced away.

“W..why did they bring you here…?”

“Young Midoriya…” All Might warned.

“Why did you commit all those crimes!?”

You turned away, faxing the wall instead.

Of course they would’ve heard about it all, you didn’t blame them for not trusting you.

Even when you were moved into the dorms with them you could tell they didn’t trust you all that much, the looks they gave you, the whispers.

You stood next to All Might, who looked to Aizawa.

They walked to the side, keeping a close eye on you.

“Anything?” He asked.

“No, they won’t talk about what happened, or what the league did. All we got out of them was that they had their blood taken, we assume Toga has been framing them.”

You kept your gaze fixated on the floor.

“Why the hell did you come back you damn traitor?!”

“Bakugo!” Aizawa snapped.

“What?! It’s true!”

“No… (Y/N) wouldn’t do that… right..?” Mina asked.

She went to walk forward, and when she got closer you flinched away, turning your head away from them.

You hated how they looked at you.

You hated how everybody looked at you.

Hate.

Disgust.

Fear.

You had heard what toga had done in your name, the horrible crimes she had committed.

You held your hand behind your back, and you repeated some words in your head over and over again, eyes turning purple.

“I would never betray you…” you mumbled.

A seal opened under you, and you dropped through it, quickly appearing on another and you began to run once more.

You couldn’t stand it, the looks they gave you, the things they said.

You didn’t blame your class for being scared, it wasn’t their fault, you would’ve been scared as well.

You went on the run, your face plastered all over the news as missing, you stayed in the city, it was safer from the league, but it made it harder to hide from the heroes.

You found a broken down building to turn into shelter, and you were using it to stay out of the rain.

One of your sigils activated, and you shot your head up, making your way towards the back exit to see that one had gone off as well.

Thinking quickly, you planted a different seal on the wall behind you.

“Hey there kiddo.” Mic smiled gently.

He raised his hands as he came in from the back, Aizawa come in through the front door.

“You don’t have to keep running anymore you know. We’ve cleared your name and found all the proof we need to prove your innocence.”

He noticed the seal behind you, and he activated his quirk to get rid of it.

“We just want to help you.” Mic said.

You ran forward instead, ducking under the capture scarf, you ran past Aizawa and into the rain, jumping over the broken wall.

“(Y/N)!”

You saw a flash in the corner of your eye, and you slid your a halt, looking down the street to see Todoroki with his hand in the ground.

“We’re sorry we called you a traitor!” He called.

“Yeah! We just want you to come back!” Jiro yelled.

Your mind went into overdrive with survival, you ran down an alleyway, putting all your new skills to the test.

Over the two months you had spent running away, you had learnt a lot about evading capture, using quirks against each other.

Running through an office building, you jumped over desks, shouting out apologies for distrusting them.

Not many of the class would come through, others would be on the roof, so you ran for a large glass window and braced your arms over your face, jumping through it.

You didn’t need to chant enchantments anymore, you could could use instinct to use them, and that’s what you did, using your seals to run through the air.

“Stop running asshole!” Bakugo yelled.

You barely dodged his arm.

“Leave me alone! I don’t want to hurt you but I will!”

You held your hand over your chest, this enchantment you had to say, and when you did, you were gone from sight.

It was a simple invisibility spell, it would only last a couple of hours but it would buy you some time at least.

You went back to the bridge, sitting under it, arms wrapped around your knees as you looked at the water in front of you.

You felt your sigil go off again, and you looked to the side.

“Why won’t you leave me alone…?”

Aizawa walked over, dropping a jacket over your head, and you pulled it down to hide your face.

He sighed, crouching down next to you.

“I know you’re scared, we don’t know what happened to you in the time you spent with the league, we’re not sure what you went through, but everybody wants you to come home.”

“I can’t…”

“Why?”

You pulled the jacket down a little so you could look at him, then you quickly hide yourself away again.

“I can’t stand the way people look at me anymore…”

Aizawa sighed softly, placing his hand on your head.

“Nobody thinks you’re a villain (Y/N), your friends have spent weeks trying to find you. Bugging me into coming with us to come and get you.”

You shook your head, and you pushed his hand away.

You stood up, handing him the jacket back.

“I don’t want to see the hatred anymore…”

With that, you began to walk away, and he got up, following after you, putting the jacket back over your shoulders.

Mic fell in like with the both of you.

“Like it or not kid we’re not going to give up.” Mic said.

He reached out, and you flinched away again, making him stop.

Mic sighed, walking in front of you to make you stop, and you turned away from the teacher so you didn’t have to look at him.

“You need people to have your back, and you’ve got a whole class back at UA just waiting for you to come home. So, please? Please come back.” He pleaded.

“We’re just going to keep coming back, so stop being so stubborn.” Aizawa said.

You had always struggled with your confidence, Aizawa knew that, but what little confidence you had was shattered now.

You finally agreed to go with them, and you were taken back to the dorm where you stood in front of all your classmates who were smiling happily.

“Welcome home!” They cheered.

They went to rush forward, but they were stopped when you hid behind your home room teacher.

“Make them stop looking…”

“I’ll show you your room.”

Aizawa led you to your room, letting you go inside, and he turned to the students who were watching sadly.

“Will (Y/N) be okay Mr Aizawa…?” Tsuyu asked.

“Yeah… they seem so different…” Uraraka mumbled.

“They’ve been through a lot, leave them alone for now.”

They all nodded, leaving the hallway, and Aizawa looked back at your door, seeing All Might standing there with a frown.

“I don’t know what happened to them, but we need to find out.”

“I know, but I don’t think they’re going to tell us anything right now. They’ve got no confidence left, they’re stronger, but all they know how to do is to runaway.” Aizawa replied.

They didn’t know the students were still listening, coming up with ways that they could help bring your smile back to your face.

You on the other hand were sat in the corner of your room, coming up with all the possible escape routes you could

[misc-obeyme]

Hi cc💕 could I request some mammon fluff headcanons 🥺🥺

Hi there, anon!

Of course you can, my friend. I'm sorry it took so long! But I actually feel like this turned out pretty okay? It's definitely fluffy at any rate. And what can I say, I love Mammon. I still don't know what it is about him.

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Mammon

Warnings: none

Everyone knows that Mammon is down bad for you. Even though he tries to play it off, he can't truly hide it from anyone. He will bluster and try to maintain his cool guy persona, but the reality is that no one is fooled. And the minute you're alone with him, it's like he becomes a different demon.

Mammon is a troublemaker, but he's also fun. When you first meet him, he's always scheming to find ways to make some fast Grimm. But as time goes on, he starts scheming about the best ways to make you smile. He comes up with some elaborate date ideas, taking you places that he thinks will impress you, constantly trying to outdo himself.

Despite this, he also enjoys a simple hang out. He'll take you in his car and just drive around the Devildom. He surprises you by stopping somewhere remote with a beautiful view of the city and the stars. Any time he wants you to himself, away from the chaos of his brothers, he asks if you want to go for a spin. You know this eventually leads to steamy make out sessions on the car hood because Mammon has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

He's overprotective sometimes, but it makes you feel safe so you don't mind. If he ever feels like you're threatened in any way, he will immediately get between you and whatever the danger is. You have to talk him down occasionally, when a perceived insult from someone makes him start throwing punches.

Mammon likes to touch you. He needs the physical reassurance of your presence. He's always seeking out your hand or putting his arm around your shoulders. Even just sitting close to you is enough, your legs pressed together. If he can have his arms around you, he will. In quiet moments, when you're alone, he'll hold you as close as he can. He'll bury his face in your neck, taking in the feel of you, his grip almost desperate like he won't survive if he ever lets go.

It's at those times when he also finds he can't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Words that he would never say where anyone else could hear. Words that he's kept bottled up for too long. Words that when he finally says them, he realizes he needs you to hear them. You listen and it's like stream of consciousness, almost incoherent, but there's no question that every word is about how much he loves you. About how important you are to him. About how he can't stand being apart from you.

He might even apologize. He knows it's his greed that makes him like this, too needy, too clingy, only wanting more. More of your time, more of your attention, more of your touch and your words and your soul - more of you. He might need your reassurance. Please, MC. Please tell him that ya don't mind. You hafta understand what ya do to him.

You do understand. You tell him as much, as often as he needs to hear it. You hold him close when he wants your touch. You stay beside him when he wants your time. You always answer when he calls you, always focus on him when he's with you. It turns out you've fallen just as hard for him as he has for you. Both of you are so lost in each other it starts to feel like nobody else even exists.

In those rare moments when you are apart, you can almost feel that red string of fate tying you together. When you enter a room that he's in, your eyes find him before anything else. And he's always looking right back at you, a bright grin on his face. When you're thinking of him, your D.D.D. will ding with a message where he's just saying hi. When you're in the human world, it feels like the universe is conspiring to bring the two of you back together.

Mammon will take you to parties and buy you expensive gifts that he worked hard to earn the Grimm for. He will make you feel like you've won the jackpot every day of your life. His favorite thing is to hear you laugh and to laugh with you.

He doesn't bother to think about how human you are. He has told you simply that he just wants to love you while you're still with him. Don't worry about the future. Not when he can have you right here, right now, safe in his arms.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[rosquinn]

Very very disorganized X thoughts

Based on mostly voicelines

His incoming lines make me think a lot, honestly

X is a liar, as it's stated several times in-game. He hides in his Goldberg machines and creates his own reality for fun, and quite possibly to feel safe from the external world. All of his confidence shows in times where he knows he has the full control of the situation ("Haha... I got you! I won't let you go, unless you agree to join my experiment!"). He likes to push people into his own world, but he's also dependent on them; he needs people to show them his machines, no matter how much he tries to satisfy his own desires with his creations, if there's nobody to test them on or show them to, what's the point?

"Try my new inventions... Ah! I had never prepared for a plan B in your absence..."

"Can I borrow you tonight? I really need your help for my new machine... please?"

"It's so nice to meet you! I've been waiting for so long!"

So, despite the confident and self sufficient facade he likes to put on, X is constantly referencing and asking for the attention of those around him ("Please live up to my expectations, colleagues!" "Ah, I seem to have grown a bit taller recently. Can you tell?"). If he ever takes an "imposing" role, it's when he's 100% sure he has enough power to enforce it, and he does want to have that power and confidence permanently and don't depend on other people and the external world anymore ("The day I've waited for has finally come. Welcome to my world."; Bottom of Insight line).

He reaffirms everyone likes him although of his eyes, something that caused a lot of rejection from people his age ("My eyes.. a little scary, aren't they? Kids new to the orphanage were a little afraid of them, but in the end everyone likes me."), and possibly the adults in charge of them themselves. He's dealt with a lot of rejection and mistreatment since he was a kid, and he looks for validation constantly, hiding under fake confidence and acting rebellious and chaotic on purpose to reaffirm said facade. He references his orphanage quite often in his voicelines, only when he's talking to Vertin, a friend he presumably can trust.

Going back to his Incoming voicelines, the first one really sticks out. They're both completely different reactions to the same threat, and one if them is most likely an act. My point is: considering X's facade mostly consists on appearing capable of anything, in control and smarter and more powerful than other people I don't know why he'd pretend to be scared.

Given how he talks about the orphanage, being a place where kids weren't even fed enough, didn't have winter clothes, weren't even allowed to exit the building, how much he liked to cause trouble, even trying to scape once, and how orphanages were in that period of time, it's highly possible kids faced physical violence from the adults in charge of them. Imo, the first line is genuine. He's recognized a threat, he knows he lacks enough power to face it, and he's scared of getting hurt. The second one is just another attempt at looking like he's in control of the situation. As I've said before, these lines are specially interesting to me because he is in battle, where he isn't in perfect control of everything, that's not his world completely and he can't drag people into it like he does at Laplace, so it makes perfect sense that he drops the facade for a moment facing a real threat.

Maybe this was all really obvious but whatever. I like him a lot