#cause like. this is the third movie man.. at this point they just have to work with whatever world they've made for these movies and the

[paintingpuff]

The Villain of Sinners: An Analysis

Okay, I’ve just watched Sinners for the third time and I just want to point out one little fun thing with the villain of the movie. Spoilers below. 

One of my favorite tropes involving villains is that they take what is seemingly the most direct approach to their goal, usually causing it to be unethical in some way, and do not realize that said “straightforward” approach actually makes their goal much harder to achieve. 

It’s a great trope, but can be difficult to execute. I’m sure many people can point to stories where the villain has an interesting motivation, but the violence and murder feels tacked on to make their motives artificially “bad.” But I’d like to point to Remmick as a great execution on this idea! 

Though his motivations are hard to fully parse until the very end, they’re actually quite simple and understandable: he wishes to reconnect with his ancient Irish culture, which is now inaccessible to him due to colonization and displacement. 

Thus Sammie seems like a very obvious route to that desire, with his mystical ability to call up spirits of the past. However, it is cruel in many ways. Not only does the conversion of one to a vampire require killing him, but for Sammie’s magic to work for Remmick is that his ancestry is literally erased and replaced with Remmick’s. We see this happen during the Rocky Road to Dublin scene, where all the vampires only dance to ONE culture: Remmick’s.

I love how this scene at first feels like a crowd coming together and having fun until you realize this is just because they’re all under Remmick’s control. This is the supernatural equivalent of a man with no friends making a bunch of sockpuppet accounts to leave comments on his posts. 

However, there is another reason that to become a vampire is considered a terrible fate by most of the cast: as Annie says, the body’s soul is trapped in the body and “cannot rejoin their ancestors.” 

Fortunately, if the vampire is killed with either a stake or the sunlight, their soul is freed and can reunite with them. 

Do you see the irony?

Remmick wishes to rejoin with his ancestors more than anything, so much so he’s willing to slaughter people for it. Yet the chance to be with them has risen every day for the centuries he’s lived, and he’s never taken it. 

It all plays out with another great addition to the “villain’s counterproductive plan” trope: only when the villain is defeated do they actually attain their goal. His soul is freed from the earth thanks to Smoke and Sammie. 

(Another great example of this off the top of my head is Barbossa in Pirates of the Caribbean)

I like to think that Remmick realizes where he’s going as the sun rises - his face is hard to read with all the monstrous changes, but just before he rises in a pillar of flame, you can hear the faintest sounds of an irish fiddle.

[rapidhighway]

the thing with sonic 3 is I can't even be too mad at it. I knew that was going to happen. i love action too much. sonic and shadow had a high speed chase, shadow did the akira slide up a fucking building and then they beat each other up on the moon man. i am a weak weak man when it comes to cool as fuck action scenes and they made that movie for me, I was partly blind to everything else that was happening tbh. I actually will have to rewatch this movie to say anything coherent about it

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

[captain-huggy-bear]

I saw video about asking a hockey team of players to borrow money, had me thinking about how quick Clay would just give you some. Like 0 hesitation, how much do you want? Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open until 21st April 2025 when I will be closing them for a bit. Writing Masterlist

It was a stupid little tiktok trend that you saw of people asking hockey players if they could borrow some money but it made you want to test it on Clay. Your relationship with Clayton was...complicated? Not quite in a relationship but exclusively seeing each other to the point he couldn't stand another man approaching you in a bar and you got possessive if a fan got too touchy. It was inevitable that it would lead somewhere more, but for now the complicated relationship status felt like the perfect challenge for the trend.

You broach the subject after you stayed the night over at his, you're curled up at the kitchen table a plate of eggs and bacon (the only thing he can cook correctly) sat in front of you. Clay's already dressed, finishing his food off before he has to go to practice. There's a sort trust there, that he knows you'll lock the place up after he's gone, that he's happy to leave you here with Lucky even though you're not yet his girlfriend.

"Can I borrow some money?" You bite your lip as you look over at him, nervous that this prank might backfire and you'll look like a gold digger. Clay doesn't even look up from his breakfast just corrects you.

"Have."

"Mm?" Your brow furrows, lips pursing as you tilt your head in confusion. Clay looks up at you finally from beneath his lashes, a few strands of his hair falling across his face in a way that make him look rugged, like he's stepped out of an action movie.

"You can have some money, you're not giving it back, here..." Clay reaches into his pocket for his wallet, unfolds it with steady hands before shoving 2 $100 bills into your hand. Your mouth dropping as you hold the bills gingerly as if you're scared of them.

"Clay, I was joking..." You try to shove the money back at him, eyes wide because that's...that's a lot of money to just randomly give someone on an average Wednesday morning.

"No, take it." His hand closes over yours until the bills are trapped in your palm, the smile he gives you tells you he's entertaining your attempt at refusal but won't actually let you walk away without the money.

"Clayyyy..."

"If you don't take my money I'm going to be offended, baby. Take the money." The smile he gives you shows his teeth, tongue pressing behind his top canines in amusement, that dimple appearing on his right cheek.

"You can't just give random women $200..."

"You're not a random woman."

"I'm not your girlfriend either." You're not trying to complain just...trying to make him understand that you can't just give people you're not in a relationship money because they ask for it...that's insane.

"I want you to be." Clay's thumb strokes your inner wrist, eyes softening as he looks at you like you're the best thing he's seen in a while. It dumbfounds you a little, blinking as if that will spur your brain to catch up with what's going on.

"What...?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend, I've just been waiting for the right moment to ask." His cheeks have started to flush red, embarrassed smile causing his cheeks to scrunch as he looks away from you for a moment.

There's a silence in which you process it all...that the thing you've been waiting so long for is happening because you've wanted him to ask since the third date. You've been patient wanting to give him space, scared that you might freak him out if you push too hard.

"Ask me..."

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

The smile Clay gives you is so vibrant that you're certain it could power all the electrics on the planet. Wide, toothy, cheeks smushing upwards until his eyes crinkle and infectious. Infectious to the point your grin is equally as big, equally as goofy because he's your boyfriend...Clayton Keller is finally your boyfriend and apparently he's willing to give you $200 without question. Insanity.

[dark-mnjiro]

want :: endo yamato

Author’s Note: I don’t know I’m just in love with this scummy gross man and I won’t accept criticism at this point. Toxic blorbos for Lee all day.

Content Warning: endo yamato x afab!reader, explicit sexual content, fingering, choking, hair pulling, tight riding, exhibitionism, dubcon, dirty talk, begging, fem pet names (sweet girl, baby, etc), slight degradation if you squint, small amount of swearing, endo is a content warning himself…

A soft moan escaped your throat as you felt his fingers up your skirt and into your panties. Your hips rocked against the touch, trying to find a little relief. He leaned in as his lips brushed against your own.

“Ya-Yamato…” she panted as the ministrations of his fingers increased. “Please…”

Endo’s intense gaze narrowed, watching your expression change. “Please what?”

“More,” you whined. “Touch me more…”

Endo let out a low groan of pleasure before finally capturing your lips with such hunger that you were sure you would pass out. His pace quickened again, causing your knees to wobble.

“Yamato…” you mewled.

He pulled back as a smirk curled over his lips. “Sweet girl…”

Suddenly, a familiar tune rang through the air, a ringtone. It was a guy from work that had expressed interest in you and you were both in a “talking” phase.

“Answer it.”

Confusion filled your eyes. “What?”

“Answer the phone.”

“Yamato, I—“

A strangled gasp left your lips as he slipped a finger inside of you.

“Do it. Or I’ll leave you here like this.”

A pathetic whine escaped your throat as you pulled out your phone and finally answered. A mischievous look flashed in his blue eyes before attacking your neck with his mouth.

“H-hello?”

Your coworker began talking about his day and inquiring about your day off and if you had planned this coming weekend. You tried to keep your mind focused on what he was saying but as Endo added a second finger, it was becoming obvious that wasn’t going to happen.

His teeth grazed the soft flesh of your neck as you bit down hard on your lower lip to stop the moan that was begging for release.

“O-oh a movie would be fun,” you stammered.

Endo chuckled against your skin as he added a third finger inside of you.

A gasp left your lips.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah sorry there was a spider,” you recovered.

Endo’s teeth grazed your throat again as you felt the fingers inside of you moving faster. He used the palm of his hand to brush against your clit, making your legs clench together.

“That’s it,” he cooed into your ear.

“Hey I’m sorry,” you managed to say. “I have to go…”

Your coworker said he understood before hanging up.

“You asshole,” you hissed before Endo’s eyes darkened. “I hate you for that.”

“Yeah? Is that why you’re fucking clenching, you dirty girl?”

He removed his fingers from your cunt before slipping them into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly. Your tongue circled his digits, lapping up your juices. He removed his fingers with a pop.

With a half-lidded gaze, you whined, forgetting about the phone call. Your body craved more.

Tutting, he tilted his head at you. “Aw…” his tone was condescending, “look at this pretty baby all for me.”

“Yamato.”

You were desperate now, pressing your body against him for any sort of friction - any relief. Rising to your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his lips, whimpering again.

His hand came up to grip your throat, squeezing gently as his thumb swept over the delicate flesh. No words were spoken as he quickly flipped you around to face the wall with his free hand. The hand wrapped around your throat tightened as his other hand slipped down your waist and to your skirt, hiking it up before tugging down your underwear.

Endo leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. “Is this what you wanted?” His hand disappeared from your throat.

Whimpering, you offered a small nod. “Please.”

The metal of his belt hit the floor before you heard his pants fall to the ground.

“Sweet girl.”

“Yamato… please.”

A tattooed hand moved through your hair, gripping it tightly, earning a yelp from you.

“Tsk tsk,” he teased. “We’re only getting started…”

[pomefioredove]

May I please have a sugar cookie, #7, with candy cane and sprinkles? 👉👈

certainly (* ^ ω ^)

order #7, sugar with sprinkles, candy cane

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ assertive

summary: after seeing you rebound, he realizes he's not quite over you tropes: exes to lovers, hurt/comfort characters: trey additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, short and sweet

"I just don't like the way he's looking at them,"

Cater looks up from his cup, and the foam heart he was trying to snap a pic of melts into his latte.

"You can barely see his face. And you've said that like, three times," the ginger says. "You've barely even touched your mug. It's basically iced coffee now."

Trey finally looks at Cater, his neck sore from craning over his shoulder.

His mug is cold to the touch.

"I'm starting to think you only invited me here 'cause you knew the Prefect was coming. Like, ouch," Cater smiles.

Trey's face flushes red. "What! No, I-I just thought the shop had a good deal today,"

Cater rolls his eyes.

"As much as I love drama, this is lowkey sad," he says. "You need to move on, Trey. It's been months."

Trey knows he's right, which makes his observation hurt even more. He mumbles some poor excuse into his cup of lukewarm coffee, but he can't keep his eyes to himself for long.

"He definitely goes to RSA. I don't trust him," he mutters, eyeing the boy you're with.

"Che'nya goes to RSA, doesn't he?"

"Would you trust Che'nya with your ex?"

"Yeowch. Point taken," Cater smiles, stirring his untouched latte with a dainty spoon. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Trey hesitates. He would have loved to just... march over there and steal you away from that pompous bastard...

But he won't.

"Nothing,"

"Pfft," Cater snorts. "You need to be more assertive, man. Otherwise we're just stalking the Prefect. Yeah, that'll impress them."

"It's not about that!! And it's not stalking!"

Cater rolls his eyes and returns to his phone, the uninvited third wheel of every outing with him.

Still, his words bother Trey. That was the problem, wasn't it? He just wasn't... assertive.

He didn't take your side, or stand up for you. He wasn't there when you needed him most, the fool. That's why you dumped him.

If assertive is what you want...

Trey stands, surprising Cater to the point of putting his phone away, and he marches across the coffee shop, brow furrowed, arms firmly at his side. The RSA boy you're with sees him first, and then you.

"Trey? What are you-"

"You," he says, pointing right at the white-uniform wearing, silver-spoon sucking little bastard.

Your jaw drops. The boys' eyes widen (does he look familiar or what?) Cater pushes his chair out, as if preparing to intervene.

Trey takes a deep breath.

"You... you treat them right, do you hear me? Prefect is the sweetest person I know, and they deserve someone just as perfect! Listen to them, okay? Be the person they can rely on, they can trust... the person I- that I wasn't. Just- you'd better be a good boyfriend, or I'll make you regret it, alright?!"

Cater sits back down. Both you and the boy you're with seem to soften, more confused than concerned now.

Trey turns and marches back to his seat. "Let's go,"

The ginger grins and looks behind him. Trey follows his gaze, and it's... you.

"Did you follow me?" you demand. His face goes bright red.

"Uh... um, I... yes. But I only wanted to make sure you were okay. That's... all I've ever wanted,"

Cater gives him a double thumbs-up. You frown, and he mutters a quick "I'll go wait outside" before darting out the door. Trey's blush darkens to crimson.

"Listen, I'm really sorry I interrupted your date. I just wanted to make sure you were being taken care of, and-"

"Trey," you stop him. "I'm not on a date. And that's not my boyfriend."

Huh.

...What?

"Oh?"

You sigh, gesturing between the two. "Trey, Neige. Neige, Trey," and you lower your voice. "I'm here on Vil's behalf. Some movie thing."

Ohh. That makes sense. Trey's face only gets redder, if possible, and he clears his throat. "...My mistake,"

Your frown softens, and you sigh.

"You couldn't have known... and... thanks for worrying about me, I guess. Maybe next time we can talk in private?"

Next time. Trey's heart flutters at the promise, if he dare call it that, and he nods.

"A-ah, of course. Next time,"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I saw your Percy Jackson asks where open and I wanted to send in a request! How would Percy react to a fem reader who is the child of Morpheus the God of dreams? Like I imagine being a child to the God of dreams would make one fall asleep randomly when they are still new to their powers, so how would the scenario play out if perhaps one day reader falls asleep on him during a movie night? Would he stay as still as possible as to not wake her up or would he do something else like gently wake her up/move her? Hopefully I made this detatiled enough but in anyway thank you!!

You were just halfway from dozing off when Percy’s voice brought you from the cusp of a deep sleep to ask:

‘Does your dad look like-‘

‘For the last time Percy no, my dad doesn’t look like Tom Sturridge from The Sandman.’ You replied before he could even finish his question. It wasn’t the first time he asked this question after watching the Netflix show ironically about a man who bore the same name as your godly father, Morpheus, the god of dreams; Something that you now had a bone to pick with Neil Gaiman over.

‘Sooo he doesn’t blow golden sand at people’s faces to make them fall asleep?’ Percy continued to ask but at this point you knew that he was only doing this just to get a rise out of you and also to keep you from falling asleep again.

‘No-will you pack it in, in trying to get some rest from today.’ You said as you lightly smack his arm whilst readjusting your head onto his shoulder for more comfort, already feeling the lull of sleep beckoning you to fall further when Percy once again spoke up.

‘But you already do enough sleeping as it is!’ He cried but tried his hardest not to move too much in fear of agitating you, knowing firsthand how much you hated your sleep being disrupted. ‘And I can’t help that!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’ve been falling asleep at random ever since Morpheus claimed me as his own. It’s almost as though I’ve suddenly developed narcolepsy or something.’ You were still getting use to your powers that for some reason would backfire now and then, causing you to have bouts of almost narcoleptic episodes where you could just be talking to someone then boom; there you were, fast asleep in the strawberry fields or on the sandy dunes of the lake as though it were the most comfortable place known to man.

It worried to everyone to begin with but upon being claimed, it started to make a lot more sense that whenever you did spontaneously fall asleep, it was easier to be accommodated for; letting you sleep because you were mad cranky when woken prematurely. Connor and Travis learnt that the hard way when for an entire week their dreams consisted of being chased by a very angry humanoid goose, as if being chased by a regular goose wasn’t scary enough. Just one of the few perks of being the child of the god who could morph dreams and enter them however he saw fit.

The subject of your tendency to fall asleep at random was soon dropped entirely as you and Percy went back to watching the movie that was already well within it’s third and final act. Well Percy was, you on the other hand…were fast asleep on his shoulder, uncaring of the crook in the neck that you were surly developing from your uncomfortable position. Percy doesn’t notice until he goes to look at you to make a joke on a certain scene but stopped and the words died on his lips as he stared at you adoringly. ‘Why am I not surprised that you’ve fell asleep. Again.’ He says softly to himself as he watched how your grip on his arm would occasionally tighten as though your dream had taken a tonal shift, only to loosen up and relax not a moment after.

Not that I needed my arm or my shoulder anyways. Percy thought to himself as he tried his absolute hardest to stay still for your benefit but he might as well have asked Medusa to make him into stone instead because he was doing such a shit job at not moving at all. It was almost as if all his limbs had minds of their own as they’d move or his fingers would tap against his thigh impatiently as the movie ended and the credits began to appear on screen; With the remote too far for him to reach without waking you up and nothing else to occupy his restless mind, Percy felt as though he was in his own personal hell and heaven, or fields of punishment and Elysium.

For one, he got to admire you as you slept, completely at peace and safe within his presence as you would oftentimes shuffle further into him, making noises of discontent when you thought you felt him move away and tightening your grip; Something he found undeniably adorable as he watched the twitches in your face and tries to guess what kind of dream you were having based off them. Secondly he desperately wanted to move, his brain was telling him to move, but Percy would rather not risk having an angry human sized goose chasing him in his dreams for the next week because he accidentally woke you prematurely from your nap. He knows you wouldn’t do that but in cases like these, it he’d know it be better to be safe and sure then expect special treatment; which upon retrospect sounded a lot worse then getting chased by a human sized goose.

So Percy allows himself the fate of being your makeshift pillow, though not before pressing a kiss to your head, wishing you the sweetest of dreams before inevitably falling asleep himself as he rested his head atop of yours, crook in his neck be damned.

[bekolxeram]

Continuing on the theme of things I've missed while S7 was airing, we have to talk about the (failed) first date. I admit it gave me too much second hand embarrassment that I usually skipped it on a rewatch. Once I managed to brave through that I realized I did miss something important, so here is another scene breakdown. Again, it's just my own interpretation.

The title of 7x05 is You Don't Know Me, that seems to be the theme of the episode: the Wilsons figuring out Mara's trauma, Eddie finding out Marisol's former nun training, Buck trying to navigate the whole dating a man thing, but they all end up making an effort to make the relationship work.

The date scene starts at the end of the actual date. We don't see much of the getting to know each other stuff, but judging by their faces, it's gone pretty well. At this point they don't know about each other's movie preference yet, so Tommy picks a place where they can decide on arrival, with Buck's input. That also signifies the nature of this date, they're literally "keeping their options open" and just seeing where it goes, without any major expectation.

Buck still seems visibly nervous, but Tommy reassures him that they're just two guys having dinner, it's a very ordinary thing that nobody cares.

Buck pretends he's at ease, Tommy points out he seems a little tensed, but he understands Buck's worry. Tommy speaks about the masculine nature of their job and tells Buck that people are more accepting than he thinks, which sounds awfully like it's from experience.

I think Buck sees it too, so he asks Tommy, who seems perfectly confident in his sexuality and masculinity, if he's been always out on a job. Tommy tells Buck about the 118 under G*rrard, this explains to the audience why Tommy seemed to be straight and a part of the boys club back in S2.

So Tommy was at least aware of or questioning his sexuality at the 118. Mr. "my girlfriend is totally coming next week" and "single is much easier than scaring women" was full blown lying about his sexual orientation. Chances are he does understand Buck's nervous fumbling, as he's probably done worse in the past.

Here comes the seemingly recurring theme of Buck making things all about himself, whether you agree with this or not, he does have a tendency to get stuck in his own head. Tommy assures him yet again that he's not accusing Buck of anything, he's just sharing his own experience to empathize.

Tommy looks a bit surprise when Buck tells him it's his first date with a dude. It's probably new information to Tommy.

And then Buck tries showing Tommy that he holds no prejudice towards queerness because he's an ally, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also one of them. Tommy tries to follow as much as he can.

Tommy senses that Buck is spiraling, trying to pull out random stuff just to bring the date back on track, so he flirts with him just to lighten up the mood and for the third time of the night, reassure him of his interest in him and the rest of the night.

Then Eddie and Marisol walk in, and Buck panics. I know Buck tells Maddie later that he "makes it seem like they were just hanging out", but if you go back to this scene, Tommy is the one who covers for Buck and takes the initiative to agree with Eddie and tell him they're just doing normal bro hangout stuff.

7 seaons in, we all know Buck doesn't have the best luck with first dates. The more he likes someone, the more likely it is for him to mess it up. So of course he has to self-sabotage here and drag Tommy into the closet with him, even though Tommy's already covered for him and Eddie is ready to move on. Tommy doesn't like mad here, he looks disappointed.

For what it's worth, Buck's hot chick comment actually makes things worse. Look at how confused Eddie's reaction is.

This snarky joke from Tommy has caused some controversy among part of the fandom. Some believe that Tommy could've outed Buck with it, but I beg to differ. Eddie knows Buck very well, Buck has always dated women. On the other hand, Eddie has never heard of Tommy dating a woman, he might have attributed it to the recency of their friendship, but that's why he immediately makes the connection in his head that Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him later in the episode. Even if Eddie had superhuman intuition and understood the double entendre of this closet comment, Tommy would be outing himself, not Buck.

Here is another controversial moment: Tommy doesn't explain anything to Buck until the Uber is here, and he just leaves him there. First, Buck is a grown man, he can get himself home, there is no concern for his safety. Second, Tommy has every right to leave the date if he doesn't vibe with it. When Tommy tells Buck he's adorable, I don't think he's referring to Buck's overall demeanor. I think he means that Buck's nervous fumbling into queerness doesn't scare him, he actually finds it quite endearing. But after reassuring him 3 times, even going as far as telling Eddie, someone they can trust, that they're just hanging out, Buck still feels the need to make the hot chick comment and push them both into the closet, Tommy realizes that things would not go any better if they continue the date. Buck has not fully processed the fact that he's bisexual and he's dating a man. I'm sure Tommy really likes Buck as well, he want to make it work, so to him, the best course of action at the moment is to take a step back and let Buck figure things out himself first.

To Buck this may sound like Tommy is letting him down easy, but I think Tommy is consciously not shutting anything down here. He absolutely will see Buck around, he's still Eddie's friend. Tommy knows they will have to talk about it in the future, but for now, it's best to put a pause on things just to give Buck some space to process. What Tommy doesn't know is that Buck has been dumped so many times that he thinks this is it.

Therefore, not only does Tommy never intend to out Buck during the date, he is willing to keep things ambiguous for Buck's comfort. Ultimately, it isn't enough for Buck, so Tommy takes a step back for Buck to figure things out on his own.

[ghostbustting]

hihi, i love your writings! can i get a 80 slash fic where it's around halloween time and the reader was force to attend a party with her friends. Slash notices reader and how hot her costume is. ( a bit modest version of the playboy bunny outfit ) Slash is cocky but the reader doesn't know who the hell he is but after a few drinks...they are upstairs doing the devils tango. 😈

Idk why this took me so long yet so effortless, but october seems to be the perfect month to post it 🙌

♯ ; “𝑩𝑬𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑵𝑵𝒀„ ༘⋆

Saul "Slash” Hudson x Fem!Reader.

Contains SMUT ; p in v, squirting, dirty talk (?),

oral (f receiving).

The smell of booze and sweats fill my senses, I guess you can already imagine how terrible it is. I can't even remember when did I ever agree to step a single toe into this god awfully packed Halloween party? At this point, I'd rather go trick or treat instead around the neighborhood and receive some sweets by the end of the night.

The whole night I made it my quest to try and stick close to my friends, following them, a similar sight to how dogs would follow their owners around. It was never my desire to attend this party anyways, wasn't quite of a party person at the first place, let alone a Halloween party where I have to dress up in costumes and shit. Yet my friends were quite hard to resist, forcing me to come with them to this party.

So here I am, standing at the corner of this unknown loaded house in my terrible attempt of a Playboy Bunny costume, buying my costume from the nearest store available just a day before the party, despite the cheap fabric making it look like I only put on a black swimsuit and a bunny ears bandana. It was quite revealing, I could feel eyes on me as I walk around, but who the fuck cares?

My friends were long gone from my sight, last thing I seen from them was when they were dirty dancing around some dudes. Unfortunately, I was no fan of that activity, leaving me to just stand in the corner of the party like an absolute outcast. I didn't mind. I had my cup of drink and that was enough to keep me occupied till my friends are ready to take me back home.

News flash, they never did take me home.

In fact, I have completely lose sights of every single one of them. Those little fuckers dragged me here and literally left me to rot between all of these party animals when I could've had a movie night back in my place. What a waste of a Halloween night. Isn't it?

I crush up the empty red plastic cup in my grasp and swiftly threw it away into the trash can, which everyone seems to be oblivious of, judging from all the empty plastic cups laying around on the floor, ready to cause someone to trip and fall.

However, the still fueled up plastic cups set on the table have managed to catch my attention yet again as I find myself making my way back to that table and seeking another cup of drink, which makes this my... third drink..?

My mind shrugs off the forgotten count of drinks as I spot one particular cup with more liquid filled inside besides the other cups. A grin on my lips, my arm stretches and my hand reached out for the cup.

Only to be met by another hand.

A big calloused hand that belonged to a man I couldn't place who or where I would recognize him from.

My eyes trailed from his hand that was lightly touching my own, up to his face, which was mostly covered by those voluminous curls of his hair, a hat sitting perfectly still on top of those curls. Behind those curls, were eyes that peeks through his own strands of hair with a gaze that met mine almost instantly. Almost as if he was inspecting me just like the way I seem like I was inspecting him.

"This cup's taken, sweetheart." He spoke to me, his voice causing a rather odd and unfamiliar tingling feeling in my stomach.

Only then did I realize how warm the feeling of his skin was against my cold one, his voice able to mute out the loud rock music that has been blaring through the speakers all evening as he say, “Or should I say.. Bunny.” This time, he ends his words with a chuckle, eyes trailing up and down my costume.

I raise my eyebrow at him and reluctantly let go of the cup from my hand, “Whatever.” I muttered before taking a different cup displayed on the table, yet somehow still feeling the gaze of those eyes that belonged to him on the side of my head, gaze so strong that he was practically burning a hole right through me. Just as I turn to him again with a sip of the drink, it was proven that he was indeed still gazing over me.

A sigh left my lips from the liquid that cleared my throat, my hip carefully leaning against the table while I listen as words seem to leave him yet again, “No company, Miss Bunny?” He ask, his hand reaching up to deliver the cup to his lip, I watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallow the liquid.

”My friends are here, but they… well, they found other companies.” I shrugged.

I hear him click his tongue and shake his head, “And let you isolate yourself over there in the corner? Sounds like a bunch of fakers to me.” He scoffed, a small smirk playing devilishly on those lips he owned on his face.

”No, no..” I shake my head with a small chuckle, “I didn’t want to attend this party at first anyways, so—”

”Well, why the fucking hell not?!” He threw his arms up, the liquid spilling from his red cup just a little, “With a costume as sexy as this, I surely thought you’d be much more of a party animal.” WIth each words he spoke, I can feel more and more the way his gaze seems to caress the skin of my body up and down. It was rather odd… it made me feel a certain feeling in my heart that made it beat faster, my thighs clenching just a little. Or was it just the effect of the drink? I couldn’t even figure it out before he spoke yet again.

A step was taken from his shoe, his body moving closer to my own, “How ‘bout I show you the real fun of the party? Some talking, dancing, more drinking maybe?” The mysterious man suggested, that same smirk on his face, “I’ll keep it appropriate. I promise, Miss Bunny.” He spoke almost in a teasing way that I was quite confident this night wouldn’t end up in such an appropriate ending anyways.

”Fine then, rockstar looking guy.”

The moment I let my decission slip out, the moment names were shared, and the moment my third drink became my fifth, time seems to fly in a way that is quicker than ever. Each joy of a party that the guy— Slash showed me became a comfort I found building up in me around him. My still somewhat sober part of a brain tried desperately to comprehend whether this feeling is caused by the alcohol in my system or just purely by the fact this man is so mesmerizing. Perhaps even both of those.

The more information I learn about him, the more I feel a magnetic sort of pull towards him, I just hope my pupils aren’t heart-shaped at this very moment. As time passes by, it feels as if I’ve known him for decades and decades already, in knowledge of small details of his very own life. HIs famous band, Guns ‘N Roses, his love for snakes, his guitar skills.. Can he be any more interesting?

Touches were shared here and there, especially when we joined the people dancing around to the music. His large warm palm on my waist was a touch that have been spiritually tattoed onto my skin, a touch to think back every now and then about the strange and mysterious— yet charming stranger I met at the Halloween party.

I mean, honestly, I didn’t know how it all ended up this way.

However, my half sober guess was a 100% correct guess as the first moment we were just dancing and drinking innocently, the second moment we were in some random bedroom, the third moment.. I'm on top of his body, stradling his naked lap as I bounce up and down his large cock, moans pulled out of my lips like a dirty prayer. His hands were yet again placed on both of my waist as he help me bounce up and down, the tip of his cock that was already slick from my saliva moving smoothly in and out of my hole.

”Oh god, yes!”

I gasped, my head thrown back as dirty moans cannot stop pouring from my lips which were smiling widely from ecstasy. Looking down, my eyes lands on the ripped stockings I wore and the way his cock slipped in and out of my dripping cunt, not to mention the way one of his hands have moved to use his thumb on my clit, rubbing harsh circles.

The bastard was smirking back up at me, small grunts leaving his lips as he buck his hips up to me every here and there, “Shit— How are you so fucking tight?” He chuckled breathlessly through his grunts, the circles he rubbed over my clit became more urgent while his hold on my waist tightens to the point it might leave a mark.

My mind was clouded, I couldn't think of another thing other than how good his cock filled me up, fitting just perfectly inside of me as if his cock was made specially for my cunt.

Eventually, my body fell ontop of him as my body became weak, limp with his cock still burried deep inside of me. Slash didn't let that stop his fun though as he suddenly flipped our position, positioning me on my stomach on the bed while he took his position behind me, hand on my hip and the other on his member.

"Gonna fuck this pussy so hard.." He grunted as he finally pushed his head through my folds, pushing a lewd moan out of my throat, "You like that, mm? Such a good bunny, aren't you?" He laughed, his hand coming down to smack across my ass.

The sting that lingered on from his palm caused me to gasp loudly, eyes rolled to the back of my head till they were shut tight with my face pressed into the pillow, "Fuck! Please.." I cried out as he thrusted in and out of me with a pace of no mercy, no resistance, hips snapping back and forth as sounds of skins slapping fills the room.

His arms slowly trail to wrap around my stomach, as if they were snakes lurking around me and ready to feast on me. I feel him placing his weight on me, chest on my back while he press his lips onto my ear, "Gonna fuck you dumb. Now you can be a real fucking rabbit."

Those were the last things I managed to hear before I feel him thrusting in and out of me again. Hard. And fast. I could hardly utter out a letter as my words were taken away by each pump. He was fucking me like rabbits would, humping like rabbits do. It was rough. It was dirty. And I loved every single second of it.

I can feel the veiny skin of his cock dragged in and out of my walls, the tip hitting every single spot that made the pressure bunch up even more in my stomach which only increased when he tightened his arms around it. Nasty moans left my lips, so loud that it eventually turned to lewd screams, eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"S-shit!" I gasped, "More, more.." My words came out in a desperate pant of lust, my ass trying to grind back against him.

Yet another breathless laugh escaped him, "Dirty slut.." He spat, one of his hands trailing up to slip two digits of his fingers past my lips, to which I instantly sucked on like— as he worded, an asbolute dirty slut. Humming around his digit and swirling my tongue around them, I feel him twitching right inside me.

Yet somehow, he never ever changed his pace, staying determined on that rough and deadly pace that made me feel like I'm on cloud nine.

I pull my face away from his fingers as I gasped out, "Close.. I'm so close.." My hand flew to his arm as I hold it tightly, needing something to hold on before I could pass out right on his devil of a cock. "Please.. finish me.." As much as I hate hearing myself and admitting it, I sounded the whiniest I've ever been, underneath him, begging him to give me the best orgasm I ever had.

"You're fucking crazy if you think I wouldn't.." He grunted, fingers digging into the soft skin of my waist as he finally starts slowing his pace, obviously just as close as I was, at the same time he reached down to my sensitive clit, rubbing those same harsh circles he did earlier.

It didn't take long enough before I let out the loudest moan I did tonight right as the fluids of my cum came squirting out of my cunt, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" I gasped, never once experiencing an orgasm like this. Eventually, I feel his own thick cream filling me up till I'm full of him, his voice groaning right in my eyes, something I wish I could listen to every sinful night I went through.

As soon as we finished, Slash pulled out of me and pulled my hips up so my ass was in the air. Being in my fucked up stance, I didn't know what was going to happen till I feel his warm tongue lapping our mixed cum that was oozing out of my folds, eating it out like he was starving man.

My throat was way too tired to even be loud anymore, only letting out a quiet and strangled moan as he finished, hopping onto the spot on the bed right next to me, a wide devilish smirk already on his glistening lips that was soon attatched to mine, my tongue tasting both of us with a grin building in my own face.

I feel him reach for my bunny ears and took it off me. Only when we pull apart that I noticed he have put the bunny ears on himself and place his own hat on my head.

"You look stupid."

He laughed at my statement while one of his thumbs ran over my ruined and smudged make up. "You still look sexy, bunny."

Well damn it, I guess I love Halloween.

[slightly-sad-sloth]

Details I noticed in my third watch through of Nimona:

(I’m so normal about this movie)

Ballister’s sword originally had a G engraved on it which has been made into a makeshift B via scratchings.

My guess is that the sword either used to be Goldenloins or his families and Ambrosius gave it to Bal at some point as kids (given that Ambrosius is the only one I can think of with a G name)

Also about the sword: people have been pointing out the religious themes (like with the T in “true villain” looking like a crucifix) on that note the symbol on Bal’s sword in this shot looks a lot like the Christian fish

Ballister literally hopped the fence and broke into the knights practice to beat up a dummy as a kid before getting tackled by a bunch of knights

I just thought he was doing an obstacle course when I saw it before but nope! This makes everything about him becoming a knight so much funnier. Also the fact they have this footage? Amazing 100% Ambrosius has it saved to tease Bal with, no way he isn’t embarrassed about that

On a sad note; dang the institute really drilled in “do what I say, be a good kid and don’t break the rules” cause Bal as an adult didn’t even want to break the rules when his life was on the line vs as a kid breaking and entering into an ongoing knight practice while being chased

The director asks Ambrosius for a sword during the roof scene but Ambrosius looks at her and back at Ballister before telling her she needs to get to safety

He saw how angry she looked and knew she’d try to hurt Bal so he sent her away instead

Where Nimona as Ambrosius broke the wall on the miniature of the city being foreshadowing for the end of the movie

Bal batting Nimona off when she starts mocking him for caring about what Ambrosius thinks

So clearly a recurring conversation given Bal’s ‘whatever’ gesture here lmao

Ambrosius being really timid with this crowd of people and overly polite

He’s chasing down a criminal/the love of his life and barely even says excuse me 😭😭 and he half heartedly asks them to move before immediately folding and giving an autograph, we love a man whose great at public speaking but still has social anxiety

Ambrosius’ eye roll as soon as Todd shows up

(He’s so done with him)

Todd’s actual name being Thodeus

Idk why I just assumed this was a different guy the first watch through

[fabled-fiction]

i see you write for hobie brown omg i like audibly giggled when i read that 😭 i’m so excited he’s finally getting his recognition !!

if you write for him, maybe some relationship hcs?? (gn reader would be perfect!) bonus points if reader and hobie are around the same height

tysm!!

Hobie Brown Relationship Headcanons

Summary: Headcanons for Hobie Brown in a relationship. From PDA to your private moments to how he acts when you aren’t around

Word Count: 961

Warnings: Talk of injury, POSSIBLE SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS (I’m just putting this here to be careful)

A/N: I hope this is good!! I wanted to include bits and pieces of what I thought could be a glimpse into some of the softer parts of Hobie!!

🕷️ First of all, this man is a charmer

🕷️ One of his love languages is words of affirmation and trust me this man is always finding ways to compliment any and every part of you

🕷️ His goal is to show how much he appreciates you…but also he just loves seeing how hot your face can get. How flustered he can make you.

🕷️ He gets a confidence boost everytime ngl

🕷️ Especially in public.

🕷️ “Aye, ‘ow good does (Y/N) look?”

🕷️ Once you’re settled into the relationship he will never call you by your name-atleast not fully

🕷️ He expects the same. Call him Hobart and he will be visually confused and apauled

🕷️ “ Im sorry, who? I dont see a ‘obart in the room wif us.”

🕷️ Its always nicknames of your name.

🕷️ His go to pet name is “babes”

🕷️ On a seperate note, Quality time is also a super big thing whenever you get together

🕷️ Cause sometimes he’ll feel bad that his time is essentially split into thirds. Between being Spiderman on his Earth, a part of the Spider Society, and his time as Hobie Brown

🕷️ So he finds any and every opportunity to just soak you in

🕷️ Obviously you have the swing dates. Where he’ll usually take you to the top of whatever building has the best view for the night and have a picnic

🕷️ But thats usually for special occasions.

🕷️ Your usual spot it cuddled up with each other either just watching TV or a movie or sharing earbuds.

🕷️ His favorite is when you’re just doing your own things but together. Being in eachother’s presence

🕷️ Normally he’ll be tuning or playing his guitar, writing down cords that work well together while you have a book or sketchbook in your hand

🕷️ When it comes to late nights together, sleepovers and what not his favorite thing is when you two are cuddling.

🕷️ His favorite thing is to hold your face

🕷️ Because of his spider senses he gets to memorize the smallest of details on your face

🕷️ Also this man, if you get his head on your chesr earlier on in the cuddle session he is OUT

🕷️ Your heart beat is his personal lullaby. His security. It calms him down. Especially if he’s having trouble sleeping after a particularly rough patrol. Expect him to just haul your ass onto the bed and just bury himself into you.

🕷️ Also this man is not SUPER into the traditional PDA, dont expect to get any long kisses from him in public or you sitting in his lap.

🕷️ He has his own form of PDA though. He ALWAYS has to be close to you.

🕷️ If someone is standing next to you? No they’re not. Suddenly he’s (not so subtly) making his way back into HIS spot next to you and then standing shoulder to shoulder.

🕷️ This is something he will not move on, his spot is next to you and your spot is next to him. Whatever surface he is laying on or sitting on he expects you to be next to him or sitting between his legs

🕷️ He’s not a full on hand holder (the most you’ll get is a pinky hold) but he is the type to either always have his arm on you SOMEWHERE. Whether that's resting his elbow on your shoulder, arm around your shoulders. He’s just always touching you in some way.

🕷️ He’s always slinging his body over you, smothering you. THATS his favorite form of PDA.

🕷️ Or if he’s just feeling especially territorial he'll have his hand in your back pocket.

🕷️ Its not because of any superficial reason, this guy is the opposite from that. He’s just solid in the relationship, and prefers the super intimate physicalities to be just between you two.

🕷️ Unbeknownst to him though, its not really needed because this mf is ALWAYS staring at you with the most lovey dovey love sick puppy eyes.

🕷️ Whenever he talks about you to Miles or Gwen or Pavitr or Miguel…really anyone that will listen

🕷️ They usually have to tell him to get back on topic.

🕷️ Also always expect to be wearing SOME article of his. Its his way of…making sure he’s always with you. Totally not because he’s vocal about you being his ans when he’s not with you others gotta know.

🕷️ And he’s the same way. He’s always got one of your jackets around his waist or one of your tees. Anything you’ll let him wear (steal) to show off that he’s yours. It gives him the biggest shit eating grin.

🕷️ If you’ll let him, he’ll go as far as to take an old tee you were planning on getting rid off and add a patch of it to his vest.

🕷️ Also uhmm…this mf never stops texting you. ESPECIALLY if he’s away in another universe he’s sending selfs.

🕷️ He expects selfies back, and it gets to the point where his wallpaper is a collage of all the selfies you’ve taken and he’s taken…candids or not.

🕷️ Its also usually the most unreadible shit, because he’s convined he can text and swing which you’ve told him NOT to do

🕷️ On the topic of his wreckless swinging, you two have a rule

🕷️ He doesn’t want you involved with his Spider stuff. He’s got that part of the stereotypical spiderman mentality. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.

🕷️ But for your sanity, any injury he has you take care of (if you can). If gives you some sort of peace of mind to know how he’s going in and what to expect.

🕷️ Ever since you both got together he’s been more careful.

🕷️ Cause he’s actually got something to come back to on his earth.

🕷️ When you get together he’s more passionate about his cause

🕷️ Because now he has a much more personal goal to work for.

[merlucide]

HEATHER?!

Oh quite the little songbird you are! You are aways humming a tune, either one you made up yourself or whatever catchy jingle played on the radio. Kaiser loves your singing, truly it’s one of his most favorite things.He especially loves when you burst into your made-up songs out of nowhere, the spontaneity always drawing a soft, sappy smile from him (not that you’d ever see it) Though this time, it can’t help but confuse and stress him entirely.

notes: I rlly loved this prompt I cannot lie hehe >< [Requested] <- read for more context

pairings: Kaiser x GN!Reader [crack, fluff]

wc: 1.3k

warnings: cursing, slight ooc?, cheesiness (who gaf)

You were cleaning the counters with your back facing towards Kaiser, who was asleep on the leather plush couch. He was originally watching some some documentary, probably about halfway through by now. He gently woke up to the lovely sound of your singing. He hadn’t heard this song before, so he assumed you wrote it—after all you were quite creative with lyrics Kaiser remembers. The tune of course sounded heavenly from your divine voice, but rather than your sacred tone causing him to pause, it was the lyrics. 

“I still remember, 3rd of December, me in your sweater. You said it looked better on me than it did you.”

December 3rd? Kaiser paused, thinking back.  You and him ordered takeout and watched some shitty Christmas movie you insisted he HAD to watch, trying to get him into ‘The Christmas Spirit’. He didn’t remember lending you his sweater, though he could easily imagine you making that up. What he did remember was telling you just how good you looked when you wore his clothes.

“Only if you knew, how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by”

Kaiser blinked, who?

Was this song about him? Who else could it possibly be about? Were you speaking in the third person? Kaiser’s mind was still foggy from just waking up, but confusion crept in as he tried to figure out what your song really meant. He had no interest in any other women, and when they tried to get his attention, he shot them down without a second thought—his cruelty in that department was practically legendary.

Empathy? Yeah, that wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

His gaze only falls upon you and you alone…Are you doubting that?

“Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty..”

Now this got Kaiser up.

You’re scrubbing away at some crusted pink filling on the counter, headphones in and jamming out to your tunes. You had tried your hand at making raspberry macarons a few hours earlier, just for fun—though they hadn’t exactly turned out as expected..

Completely unaware of the man hovering behind you, you continued scrubbing the counter, blissfully focused on cleaning.

You aggressively rub against the hard surface, putting more pressure into your palms.

You turned your head slightly to the left, only to get absolutely jumpscared at the sight of Kaiser standing directly behind you.

You shriek, stumbling around and slam your hand on the edge of the counter, other hand clutching the scrub daddy tightly close to your chest.

“MICHAEL!” you screech, throwing the sponge at him in a startled fury.

“What the hell?! Dude, don’t just ominously stand behind people! Jerk!”You sneer, putting your AirPods back into their case.

Kaiser rolls his eyes and scoffs, “You knew I was there, don’t be over dramatic,” “What— ‘Over dramatic?’—Have you met yourself!?—“ “What did you mean by that,” He interrupts, eyes pointed questioning down at you.

You snort, “Oh I’ll tell you exactly what I meant, you literally are the most dramatic person I have ever—“

“Not that, what you were singing or whatever,” Kaiser interrupts, again, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he leans closer, arms crossed like he’s interrogating you. “Who are you talking about.”

“..Huh..? No one?” Your face scrunches in confusion for a split second before subtle realization hits “..Heather??” You say, more as a question.

“And who is Heather?“ Kaiser’s tone is sharp, his accent making the name sound even more accusing. His eyes narrow as he looms over you, arms crossed like you owe him a detailed explanation.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “No- no one?? Mihya it’s a song,” You blink at him. Is he serious? You try not to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but it’s hard when Kaiser, Michael freaking Kaiser, looks genuinely invested—like he’s unraveling some grand conspiracy. 

He didn’t look convinced. “You sure?” He asks unimpressed.

Why is he even taking this so personally? you wonder, side-eyeing him as he stands there, arms crossed, waiting for an answer like a prosecutor grilling a witness. Does he not realize how ridiculous he sounds right now?

Then, it clicks.

“Wait, hold on,” You question, a snicker escapes your throat, which Kaiser raises his brow to you. “You thought—You thought I was singing about you?” you laugh in disbelief, doubling over as the realization hits you.

Kaiser stiffens, the faintest hint of red dusting his cheeks. He scoffs, looking off to the side as if the wall suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the room. “I didn’t think anything,” he mutters defensively, his arms crossing tighter over his chest.

Your laughter only grows louder, and you clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath. “Oh my gosh, you did! You actually thought I was singing about you! That’s why you’re so worked up!”

His jaw clenches, and he glares at you with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I was just… verifying,” he huffs, his reaction so uncharacteristically flustered that it makes you laugh even harder.

You wonder just how far his ego can stretch. He probably thinks every sad love song is about him. Heaven forbid anyone in this world not be infatuated with Michael Kaiser. Including Conan Gray.

“Verifying?” you repeat, wiping a tear from your eye. “Mihya, you were practically interrogating me! Over a song!”

He clicks his tongue, and leans down to your level. “Well, excuse me, the way you were singing made it sound personal.” he shoots back, his voice sharp but his face still tinged with pink. “How was I supposed to know it wasn’t about me?”

You snicker, shaking your head. “Michael Kaiser, you’re so full of yourself it’s honestly impressive.“

Kaiser scoffs, his posture straightening as he adjusts his arms, trying to look unaffected. But there’s a faint, almost imperceptible shift in his expression—an acknowledgment that, maybe, you’re onto something.

You step closer, your grin only growing wider. “Awwww, Mihyaaa, did I mess with your head? Naaawww, I’m sorry—” you coo, leaning into his space dramatically, batting your eyelashes in mock sympathy.

Kaiser rolls his eyes, scoffing as he leans back against the counter, clearly unimpressed. “Pfft. You’d have to try harder than that.”

“Oh, really?” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Because it kinda looked like you were panicking over a fake love triangle just now.”

He clicks his tongue, standing upright and towering over you slightly, his smirk sharp and confident again. “Please.”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s out of cards decked up his sleeve yet refuses to admit defeat. His ego would never allow it.

“Mm, maybe I should write a sad love song about you. Would that cheer you up?” you tease, a soft giggle escaping as you lean against the counter.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he retorts, though his tone lacks the usual bite.

You tilt your head, grinning now. “I looooovee you and I know you looooovee me Mihya~,” you say, sing-song, watching the way his jaw tightens ever so slightly.

“I don’t love anyone,” he fires back smoothly, but the corner of his mouth betrays him, quirking up just enough to give him away.

You snort, “Oh, it’s like a dagger to the heart, really,” you say, feigning offense as you pull away from the close distance, one hand dramatically clutching your chest. Before you can retreat further, Kaiser’s hand catches your wrist and pulls you back effortlessly, bringing you closer than before. The motion is so sudden that you nearly stumble into him, and his smirk is practically dripping with amusement.

“So, when’s that sad unrequited love song about me coming out? Hm? I’m curious to hear how it ends.” Kaiser slyly quips.

“If I’m writing a song about you, it’s going to be about how insufferable you are.”

“Looking forward to hearing it, liebe.”

You press a quick kiss onto his expecting lips, and swat at him lightly. “Now get out of my kitchen or make yourself useful.”

“You realize this is my apartment, no?” Kaiser asks.

“I’m not sure what that has to do with my kitchen.”

sorry this is all I gots for valentines >< …

Made February 14th 2025

[woooshworldtwo]

AT A LOSS

TAGS: WIFE!READER [Originally just mentioned once in dialogue but otherwise just spouse is used when describing said relationship between characters], Husband!Caracalla x Reader x Unrequited!Geta, Mentions of sex, Brief mentions of slavery [gladiators in the Colosseum], Brief mentions of animal cruelty [animals participating in the Colosseum], Historical inaccuracies, I'm not sure what else.

FIRST NOTE: I think I wanted to try accentuating the care he wants to give reader and therefore ends up treating those around him as what he sees them as- disposable and like shit. Geta is a TERRIBLE man so I guess I just wanted him to be pining for someone he knows is out of reach. I was gonna make it a series to like Caracalla x partner reader x unrequited Geta. if this is the first chapter, ngl idk where to trail off from there. i kind of write while im smoking just to fuck around so maybe i could write at least five-ish chapters if i think of a good enough plot. WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE THINK?? who knows i could even do the same with Caracalla, it could make sense cause he literally kills his brother in the movie

SECOND NOTE: pov ur me, high off like five tokes and u watch Gladiator 2 the day it comes out on Paramount+. BOOM, obsessed, love it, don't even care about the historical inaccuracies. For some reason, as someone as not all there like Caracalla is, having that deep relationship with his brother, once he notices that lil interest Geta has, or even just the doubts of others finally becoming to a point where my guy has to LOCK IN to keep his partner w him. not cause they don't love them, I think it would be cause he loves THEM too much. I'm talking bristling at the notion whenever he thinks of them together. JUST UNSPOKEN TENSION. do u guys enjoy that?

THIRD NOTE: unfortunately, i have more to talk about but no one to say it to so ur my audience. yelling into the mic i ask, do you guys think I should write porn of Caracalla and reader FUCKING?? idk if it would even include Geta- IT COULD, WHATEVER YOU GUYS WANT. I sort of just wanted to explore writing intimacy as an actual action instead described as thoughts. leave ur thoughts on what u guys think on that too bc im literally so curious.

PLEASE DON'T COPY MY WORK, I BET YOU

Summer in your lungs, and alcohol swimming in your stomach; Caracalla wonders if he's seen beauty such as yours. Never alone in the hours of the night, the lovers he takes soon notice how harder he is to satisfy, to sedate into a warm puddle wrapped in expensive sheets- instead becoming unflinching to the pleasures that usually melt his tortured mind.

Intense with his emotions, he swears this affection was there from first glance. Taken sight of you at in your hazy glory; the clothes accentuating the shade of your skin, the warmth of your eyes, it only takes months before you two wed.

From there, days are blissful. Misery always follows, but he finds with your company at his side, falling into the episodes of madness are rarer and rarer.

Perhaps it's the sweetness of your soul mending what his lacks, or having the closeness of your body distances the pestering thoughts appearing out of thin air. No matter what is it, with his claws dug into your being- he refuses to let go.

Dimmed by what other's consider insanity, it's difficult not to see Caracalla's growing lucidness. Coming face to face with it, Geta realizes any foes and enemies of Rome has never been as close as his brother has to the inner workings of his mind.

Divided by grace, the affection for you has been its limit. As the eldest, Caracalla bears the pitying glances from other's in the palace; to have the responsibilities laid on Geta is blasphemy, but who else can handle its weight when his mind is in two?

Who else to lessen its everlasting ache if not you? For that reason, such as many others, is why he cannot risk this becoming what he has grown familiar with- sharing with his brother.

Holding the same curiosity he did in the faint moments of childhood, his Adam's Apple bobs faintly- and when you look to follow its movements before returning your gaze to him: a faint shiver is felt and repressed in that same breath. "Caracalla?"

Asking in a murmur, he knows what you're referring to. Living with you these past handful of months, he can recall the number of times you've cut each conversation he's thought out into nothing more than small talk. In one worded questions, he cannot help but admire the relaxed sight of you.

So much so, he allows you to each time. Tossing the unspoken plans of connection for small talk, he nods. A hint of a smile is seen, and alone from that, you beam back at him.

Genuine like the sun, to continue seeing it, it makes it easy for him to keep spew out half thought words in hopes something he says would land. "He will arrive shortly, do not worry.", it ends with your name, echoing from his mouth, and although the God's have given him the same glory they themselves hold at their fingertips; nothing has sounded as holy.

Bounded by faith, the prayers he spills are ingrained in the folds of his brain, but once consumed in these times of power, he wonders if he should dare step closer to the soul he swears should beat for him.

"... Geta?", Unknowing for how much time has past, the beaming smile you once held is melted into a small frown. Quietly urging him to the present like he's seen you do with his brother, there's a warmth blooming in the hallow part of his chest.

Cherishing the brief concern, it only seems to remind him what Caracalla has naturally and what he takes the scraps of.

Still leaned back into the expensive marble, the wall itself is a pale enough color to forget about, instead focusing on the features he, too, fantasizes of in passing moments alone.

"Where did you go?", Too familiar with speaking to the other emperor, the question is thoughtless when spoken, yet its weight is felt nonetheless. "Nowhere. Just here.. Are you enjoying yourself?", Taking a pause, he eventually speaks again. It's done when walking to the the throne nearing Caracalla's; the one you sit in.

"Quite the spectacle.", Your eyes peer down at the sight below; bloodshed in the Colosseum's sand doesn't make your stomach twist like it once did, however when watching captured men swing weapons- and seeing another one fall, you look to him again.

Sitting at his own throne, you find his eyes already on you; a quirk upturning on his lips to show the pleased buzz your words give him. Gladiators from conquered lands, their purpose in Rome is to win their survival and amuse any passing visitors. Yet in the past year or so, since your arrival, he's found a deeper sense of pride at their display.

Growing passed the Senator's praise, passed continuing his parents past teachings, he has found serenity in the amazement you hold so clearly.

Seeing your wonder at the captured animals; their stature towering over the sand's flat ground, using its strength to trample over any competitors- he finds himself chasing the occasional bursts of attention he manages to keep with in your magenta sunlight.

Never promising loyalty to anyone; he chases it when you're unable to give it, the mess of concubines and courtesans who he cannot remember the names nor the faces of, only remembering their similarities to you- their purpose has been asked for more as of late, and neglected all the same soon after.

No matter if it was seeing a person with hair similar to yours, a familiar sounding voice, even just dressed in clothing resembling your own; they were sought out after in hopes of finding you in them.

He finds it only lasts briefly.

Of course sex is endless, at the call of his voice and at the stop of a groan; services are there to satisfy whatever craving he has. But after each round of breathlessness, he finds that hunger for what is missing growing into something insatiable.

Hours spent, feeling their bodies, picturing what your own must look like underneath the white moonlight casting into his bedchambers. Each thrust is heavy with yearning he cannot mend, moaning for warmth he cannot have; he damns Caracalla in those times for finding you first before he did.

Perhaps then would you be his spouse. To bed you the same way his brother does would be true nirvana, to hear those same whimpers he knows you're able to make, to feel you shiver and tighten around him the same way those people do; it's what he longs for.

He's certain then he'd be more than just rough, chasing whatever high is made in a blurry of orgasms- it becomes difficult to differentiate who is with him and who is imagined; not when his eyes are shut and your image is all he sees in its darkness. Tenderness is taught, and if his brother was able to learn to extend that same to you; there is no doubt he'd do the same.

"Are you enjoying it?", Turning your focus back onto Geta, his answer is a hum. The sound is husky from passing thoughts, and strain for what should be hidden; he takes a moment to gather his words.

"I always favor your company, the spectacle is merely entertainment.", Repeating what you said only minutes ago, the unexpressed emotions behind it is registered in your mind- and although brushed off originally, that denial you have becomes harder to not believe Geta's feelings becoming more noticeable in the time spent at his brother's side.

"The ambience of cheering Roman's, animals in pain, and dying men; no wonder we have such lively conversations in these times.", Another quality of yours he finds endearing is your dryness. The harshness soaked into your veins from being raised by your family has not changed you the way it has him he notices; viewing the cruelties of Rome in whatever light you could shed, he once again almost smiles, a quirk of his lips turning upwards showing.

"Complaining to the emperor for the privileges he's given you? What an ungrateful wife you are.", Breaking out into a smile, what is said is anything but malicious. Leaving Caracalla unmentioned; unsaid, his mind is soothed from its ache, mending itself when remembering it's just you and him- hidden away.

Alone in a place where he can pretend you two are more than in-laws, there's a warm stirring at the sound of your laughter. Filled with humor you express so freely, it reminds him of conversations with your father throughout the years; his stories of your youth.

Defiant in ways he wishes he'd seen, and mischievous in ways he knows you still are; the only changes is now you're not tangible. Yet, lost in affections like he never got to be as a boy, he doesn't mind who he's face to face with now. Not in the slightest.

"Forgive my insolence, emperor; I plead for it.", Clearly you speak to Caracalla too much because the shiver trailing up his spine goes directly into that heated feeling in his abdomen. Aware you're unknowing to the effect you have, it only worsens at the hint of playfulness heard.

"Oh, you're forgiven. The God's have extended their mercy onto you today, but be wry, they could change their mind.", Unwilling to give into the arousal brewing, the tension he's created in his body, he replies with a smile- one that lingers too long.

Mischief isn't needed to be noticed in the palace, not with the two emperor's having their souls intertwining themselves with your own- no longer being unheard by those around you, that streak remains. It brings an amusement greater than bloodshed to Geta, and even more so to Caracalla. Smoothness of your words he swears is coated with the sweetest of wines; it disarms what would be seen as scrutiny as nothing more than a jest.

With humor being forgotten in such trying times; outside of what the Colosseum offers, and outside of the different celebrations of another conquered land- Geta finds your spirit is lightening to what is constantly dampening in his.

Shouts of Roman's are heard, like you predicted, and another man falls. However, with neither of you truly paying attention to the sight; their deaths were not offered the same graciousness you're given so carelessly, so frivolously: and when one of the last remaining takes their bow to surrender- only then do you look away.

To see your eyes of amusement grow into something unreadable, his own smile dims into a frown.

Standing from the throne, his hands rest on the Bisellium's railing, he grips onto it tightly when seeing below. Blood stains the sand as always; the deceased laid out over it in the afternoon heat, and the two lone man kneel. Meters away from one another, your eyes flicker between them, and soon Geta speaks up again.

Mercy is yelled in the air, and when he asks you, his voice is quieter than intended, "Shall we show mercy?"

Sparking what was lost, you nod, and another smile is seen, "Mercy."

Prayers do not solve what is inevitable, he finds, not when the God's blood soars through his body. The threat of rebellion, and the stings of betrayal, that mask that hides it all becomes wavering whenever he's with you; wishing to you like he did as a child to the God's for power, to worship you in ways he only should deities- it almost feels blasphemous.

Even more so now, when you don't understand the importance behind what he says; the grace he offers, the laughs he lets slip out- it is only the beginning of what he could promise you.

FOURTH NOTE: Now that you've made it this far, I wanna like drift away from what I was writing on my old account. it was just small paragraphs, but writing on a laptop just HITS DIFFERNT- literal hours spent doing this shit. I don't rlly wanna take requests bc i feel like my time is just too hectic for that, BUT I WOULD LOVE to hear your guys thoughts!! Okay, small series on these characters- Quinn Mossbacher, Simon Kalivoda, Ethan Russell, DIMITRI KRAVIOFF, DANIEL MARKOWITZ, JASON HOCHBERG, and finally our beloved; Caracalla. bad part is I haven't most of the movies they're in, so i don't want it to be inaccurate.

FIFTH NOTE: currently i'm writing a Johnny Storm fic series inspired by the new Fantastic Four trailer (writing the third chapter of what could be a five or even eight part series if I get to understand that franchise better), an Eddie Muson fic mainly just to fuck around and post that old one I never got a chance to. also an Adrian Chase fic i found on my laptop, another one for Koby from the one piece live action (I was inspired when the show first came out), and joe goldberg

FINAL NOTE: I've wanted to get into watching Yellowjackets. LOVE THE SHOW. Another thing I wanted to ask bc when I write for women characters, i like to write them as WLW. SO would you guys like it if i also wrote for Iris (Companion), SISTER BARNES (Heretic), Jinx (Arcane), Lucy Maclean (Fallout), Rhiannon Lewis (Sweetpea)?? one day if i sell out and get a membership to Prime or those silly addons; I WILL.

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

OK another idea that's been living rent free in my head - Steve raglan/William afton dealing with an absolutely chaotic psychic investigator who was hired after the missing kids case went cold (or in steve's case around the time the FNAF movie takes place so they can be psychic besties with abby)

they keep giving him the most cryptic messages "from the spirits" (half of them really are, the other half are made up cause they like seeing him frazzled)

They know from the beginning (or just about) that he's probably the killer (mans royally failed the vibe check and also the ghosts told them) but they need to gather evidence so they have to stick around (and while they're there they're gonna do everything in their power to drive him absolutely bonkers)

💀💫 Headcanons: Psychic Investigator vs. Steve Raglan/William Afton

The Psychic Investigator (you)

You're the FBI’s "weird case specialist" — the one they call when things get too spooky for normal agents. You talk to ghosts, vibe-check haunted dolls, and haven’t paid taxes in years because your third eye is too open for paperwork.

You dress like a mix between a washed-up magician, a Victorian ghost hunter, and someone who rolled out of bed at 3pm.

You're chronically cryptic. You speak in riddles, metaphors, and sometimes just noises. Sometimes you're right. Sometimes you're just messing with people.

You showed up to the Fazbear case sipping a Slurpee, said "The spirits told me there's a funky little man behind all this," then made direct eye contact with Raglan.

You absolutely know he’s the killer. Ghosts told you. But you need receipts — and while you're at it, you're gonna make him regret ever reincarnating.

Steve Raglan / William Afton (as of the FNAF movie era)

He tries to maintain his calm therapist/dad façade, but every time you're around, he gets ten more gray hairs.

Starts off dismissive: “You must be the... psychic they sent? How quaint.”

Ends up spiral-noting every one of your cryptic warnings, slowly losing sleep over whether you actually know or if you’re just messing with him.

Has nightmares where you’re just standing at the foot of his bed whispering, “Tick tock, tick tock. Do you hear the wires scream, William?”

🎭 Imagine: Your First Session with “Steve Raglan”

You stride into his office, completely ignoring his outstretched hand, and instead press two fingers to his forehead.

You: “Mmm. You’ve got a very haunted skull. Heavy lies the crown, huh?”

He blinks. Clears his throat. “You must be Agent... [Your Name]. I understand you're here to help with the missing children case?”

You nod, slowly circling him like a crow analyzing prey.

You: “They whisper, you know. The children. Especially the bitey one. He says you suck at hide and seek.”

William: 😐

You plop down in the therapy chair and immediately pull out a pendulum, a flask, and what appears to be a plush rabbit with one eye missing.

You: “So. When did you first hear the call of the void, Steve?”

🌀 Highlights of You Driving Him Absolutely Bonkers

Every time you enter a room, you pause and say something deeply unsettling like: “There’s blood under the floorboards. Just thought you should know.” (There is, but how do you know that?!)

During a casual meeting, you whisper “the carousel spins backward” and then walk out without context. Later that day, he discovers the security footage looping in reverse. You weren’t guessing. You knew.

You sit in his car uninvited. “Your glovebox smells like copper and regret. You keep a mask in there, right?” William: sweats profusely while pretending not to know what you're talking about.

You bond with Abby instantly. She thinks you're hilarious. You teach her how to use tarot cards. Together, you leave spooky notes around the house for William like: "He watches from behind your eyes." "Don't trust the yellow rabbit." "Tonight you dream in static."

At some point, you start leaving fake ghost messages too, just for chaos. Like: “The spirits say you should try decaf.” Or: “Chica says your tie is ugly.”

William begins having full-on paranoia spirals. He starts second-guessing himself constantly. Are you bluffing? Are you toying with him? Did the ghosts really send you? Are they angry? (Yes. Yes. Yes. And hell yes.)

💥 The Final Confrontation (Maybe)

You finally catch him slipping — maybe he messes up with Abby, maybe he leaves a clue behind — and you’re waiting for him at the pizzeria.

The animatronics stand still. The air is heavy.

You lean against the old Show Stage, arms folded, that same annoying knowing smirk on your face.

You: “So. The spirits say you’re out of time, William.”

He sighs, defeated — not because he was caught, but because you were the one who did it. Because your nonsense worked.

You: “Also? Freddy says bozo behavior.”

[seoll3miwrites]

December Night | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 3 to "Cherry" | Previous Y/N is home alone throughout the festive season, still she finds peace in isolation. This peace is broken when some intruders enter her home with the intention to get information about Lyutsifer; by any means necessary. (WC: 3075)

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Guns, Brief mention of waterboarding, General Violence, Secret cameras, Stalker behaviour

AN: Y/N is missing all the red flags here, sorry

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

It was December now, which meant it had been two months since the masquerade. Two months since Y/N had made the biggest mistake of her life and had almost allowed it to go further than what it did.

Now she was sitting alone at her flat, eating a shitty Chinese takeaway as a random Christmas movie played on her TV. She’d just gotten up to grab a glass of wine from her fridge when a knock at the door halted her movements.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and instantly was on guard as a result. After carefully pulling one of her handguns from its hidden compartment, she slowly made her way to the door before swinging it open.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked the figure in the doorway with a guarded expression, right hand hidden behind her back with her finger on the trigger.

The strange older man smiled at her, “Forgive me for the late visit, but it’s a matter of great importance. May we come in?”

At his question, her eyes drifted behind him, where she spotted three other men staring at her with a strange, almost intimidating expression. Quickly understanding the situation, Y/N smiled politely and slowly began to close the door. “Sorry, I think you have the wrong place.”

Before she could fully close the door, one of the men behind him stepped forward and forcefully pushed the door open, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall. Raising her gun, she aimed it at them. “Stay back!”

Instead of listening, the three men simply laughed at her before rushing her at once. Y/N fought back as hard as she could, but being outnumbered three to one predictably didn’t work in her favour. Two of them grabbed her by her arms and held her upright as the older man stepped into her flat.

“No, I think we are in exactly the right place,” he spoke slowly before gesturing to the men holding her to carry her to the kitchen. “Tie her to a chair.”

Without question, they pull Y/N down onto one of her kitchen chairs as the third one steps forward and uses zip ties to latch her wrists to the chairs. She let out a hiss when one of the ties began to dig into her skin.

The older man appeared in front of her again, bending down to look her in the eye. “Now, what do you know about Doctor Lyutsifer Safin?”

Without hesitation she replied, “I don’t know anything.”

“This is going to be very painful for you…”

The next two hours for Y/N were a haze of pain and noise. For the first hour she would repeat the same phrase over and over as they continued to hit, cut, and beat her, “I don’t know anything.” It became almost like a mantra for her, but as the torture continued, her mind went numb, and she fell silent.

At one point they grew tired of her silence and decided to pour water over her as her own kitchen towel was placed over her head. She gagged and screamed into the water, but even then she refused to speak.

After the second hour, Y/N finally had a reprieve when they decided to take a break from her torture. The older man had left the kitchen to search her house, followed by two of the men, leaving the third watching her carefully. As they waited for the others to return from their search, there was suddenly another knock on the door.

The silence was broken by a sharp knock at the front door, a sound that echoed through the room. The single remaining man in the kitchen paused, his eyes darting to the door for a moment. After a brief pause, he looked back at Y/N, who was sitting tied to a chair, her expression now one of pain and exhaustion.

"Who could that be?" His voice was rough, a hint of irritation lacing his words.

“Maybe you should do your job and find out.” She replied, her voice from her own screams.

Her ear rang as he harshly smacked her in the face in response, “Watch your fucking mouth, you bitch.”

The sound of the knock at the door echoed through the flat again, this time a little more impatient. The man uttered a small “fuck” before making his way to the door and opening it.

The tension in the room grew as the man began to walk towards the door, clearly irritated by the unexpected guest. He gripped his gun, preparing for whatever or whoever stood on the other side of the door.

He opened the door with a loud creak, revealing an unexpected scene. Standing there was a tall figure in a dark overcoat and black leather gloves, the shadow from the hood of his coat hiding his face.

"What do you want?" the man asked gruffly, his grip on the gun still firm.

With the man distracted, Y/N began to try and squeeze at least one of her hands from the zip ties that forced her to stay in the chair. She let out small whimpers as the plastic dug deeper into her skin; her right wrist had even begun to bleed slightly from the struggle.

She froze when a familiar voice rang through the flat, “Where is she?”

The man at the door tensed slightly at the unexpected voice. He instinctively gripped his gun tighter, his eyes darting briefly to the figure in the shadow.

"Who's asking?" he replied, his tone gruff and cold.

Instead of responding, the mysterious figure instead raised his right hand, revealing a silenced pistol. Before the other man could react, he fired several shots into his chest and watched as he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Suddenly hands were cupping Y/N's face, tilting it around as whoever was in front of her was assessing the damage. Her eyes were blurry now, and she could barely make out a face; afraid, she tried to pull back from the stranger.

“It's me, darling. It's me." The voice was low, a familiar, calming timbre.

Instinctively her body relaxed as she recognised the voice in front of her, “Lyutisfer…” she whispered brokenly.

“Yes, it's me, my darling." He gently tilted her face up to look at him, his tone soothing, "Can you stand?"

She tried to shake her head, only to wince when it made her feel nauseous. “My wrists are tied... I can’t move...”

"Hold still a moment," he said gently, positioning himself behind her so he could see the bindings on her wrists.

With skilled precision, he retrieved a knife from his pocket and swiftly sliced through the ties, freeing her hands from their constraints. Finally free to mouth, she let out a small cry as she rubbed her wrists in discomfort only to accidentally rub against the open wound on her right wrist.

He saw her reaction and immediately reached forward, gently taking her wrist in his hand.

"Be careful," he murmured, his touch gentle but firm, as he looked at the open wound. "This needs tending to."

“Wait, there's three other men upstairs,” she spoke in alarm, her eyes wide as she struggled to focus her sight.

Nevertheless, he didn’t let go and spoke to her in comfort, “My men will take care of them.”

His words emphasised when Y/N heard the distinct sound of three bodies dropping on the floor above them. As the sound of three bodies hitting the floor echoed through the flat, Y/N's eyes widened in realisation at the implications of his words. But before she could utter another word, a man rushed down the stairs, armed and on high alert.

“We need to leave; it’s possible they have backup.”

Lyutsifer nodded at the man's words, acknowledging the urgency. "You're right," he said, his voice still calm and composed. "There's no time to lose."

He gently tightened his grip on her wrist, guiding her out of the chair she had been bound to. Before they could take more than one step, however, Y/N's exhausted body finally gave out, and she collapsed suddenly, her legs too weak to bear her weight any longer.

Lyutsifer moved fast, catching her body before she could hit the ground. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close, an arm under her legs and the other under her back.

"Easy, darling," he murmured, his hold strong and secure, "I've got you."

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked in a daze, a strange confusion settling in her mind.

With Y/N cradled in his arms, Lyutsifer started to move towards the front door, the other man falling into step behind him.

At her question, he glanced down at her, his expression serious.

"Somewhere safe," he responded, his voice steady, "somewhere they won't be able to find you."

Her eyes were growing droopy as a wave of fatigue hit her again; she wanted to sleep. Still she was able to mumble to him, “They were looking for you, not me.”

"I know," he responded, his voice low, "but they'll use you to get to me if they have no other options. So we can't risk it."

“I didn’t tell them anything…” Her voice was growing more and more slurred.

He continued to carry her through the front door and outside, where a black Rolls-Royce was waiting.

"I know you didn't," he assured her, his voice still calm. "You did well, darling."

She smiled tiredly at him before it quickly fell again. “I’m tired…”

"You can rest now," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached the car, and one of his men immediately opened the door for him.

He slowly lowered her into the backseat, adjusting her so she was comfortable against the plush seats. Lyutisfer then slid in next to her before calling over to the driver in the front, “Drive. Now.”

Y/N felt the car pull away, the motion making her feel even more nauseous than before. So, she slowly tilted herself to the left and lowered herself into Lyutsifer’s lap before closing her eyes with a groan.

As she felt herself drift off to sleep, the last thing she heard was his soft, comforting words, "Rest, darling," he said, his voice quiet. "We'll be there soon enough."

The next time Y/N woke up, it was to the sounds of distant waves and a bright light above her. As she blindly felt around her, she soon realised she was now on a large bed that was covered in black silk sheets.

Having only awakened mere minutes ago, confusion and fear quickly set in as she rapidly looked around the room. She tried to slide herself off of the bed so she could escape wherever she was, only to stop when the door suddenly opened and Lyutsifer stepped inside.

"You're awake," he said, his voice calm. "How do you feel?"

“Where is this?” She asked unsure but still felt herself relax slightly when she saw him.

"You're in a safe place," he assured her. "Somewhere they won't find us."

Y/N nodded in understanding, turning to look around the room again and froze when she saw the IV drip and heart monitor next to the bed. “How long have I been asleep for?”

He followed her gaze, noticing her focus on the medical equipment next to the bed. Her question hung in the air for a brief moment before he answered.

"Three days," he said bluntly, his voice matter-of-fact. "The doctor said you needed rest. And for your wounds to heal properly."

For some reason the only thing she could think of saying in that moment was a small, “Oh.”

Despite her short response, he could practically see the questions and confusion flooding her mind. His gaze didn't leave her, observing her closely as if trying to read her thoughts.

"You had a concussion among other injuries," he continued, his voice still firm but not without an undertone of concern. "The doctor had to stitch your wrist, and you'd lost a fair bit of blood. You needed time to recuperate.”

“How bad was it,” she asked before continuing, “when you came in that night, I mean?”

His expression darkened as he recalled the memory. The sight of her bound and injured still fresh in his mind.

"Bad," he replied simply, his voice lower than before, "You were hurt, bleeding. They'd hit you, bound you. But they hadn't gone any further, not yet at least."

“Good.” She blurted out at his last statement, meaning to say it in her head.

"Good?" he echoed, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re glad you were only beaten and bound?”

“I’ve had worse.” She shrugged, only to wince when she felt pain shoot through her back.

"I'm sure you have," he said, coming to a stop near the bed. His eyes were still fixed on her as he spoke, his tone a mix of concern and caution. "But your back clearly still hurts, which means your wounds aren't healed yet. You should stay still."

She nodded in understanding before looking back at him, “How did you even know what was happening?”

He leaned against the bed frame, hands in his pockets, as he looked down at her.

"I had cameras set up in your flat," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. “I had a feeling they'd come for you eventually. The moment I saw what was happening, I came."

“Everywhere in my flat?” She asked with slight alarm, remembering a certain night a week ago when she may have called out a certain name in bed.

He smirked at her question, the alarm in her voice not missed by him.

"Every room," he confirmed, his tone taking on a slightly teasing edge. He leaned a little closer, eyes studying her intensely. "Including the bedroom."

“Oh god!” She exclaimed and put her face in her hands, “How many people saw it?”

He chuckled at her mortified reaction, enjoying the blush that spread across her face.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, his tone slightly amused, "I was the only one watching that night."

“Please tell me you deleted the footage.” Y/N replied, her face still buried in her hands.

He chuckled again, enjoying seeing her so flustered. He reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

"What if I said 'no'?" he teased, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then it better be locked up even better than the Pentagon, you voyeuristic pervert.” She replied back but for some reason couldn’t find it in her to be completely angry. Although it had invaded her privacy, it had also saved her life.

"Voyeuristic pervert, hm?" he mused, his tone light and playful. "I'm wounded by that, darling. My intentions were purely protective, not perverted."

His words sobered her up again, “I know… I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything," he said firmly, his voice now serious. "I did what I had to do, what any man would have done for a person they..."

He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he'd said more than he intended to. Noticing his hesitation, Y/N inched closer to him with a curious, hopeful expression. “Yes?”

His gaze flicked to her when she inched closer, his eyes meeting hers. He took a moment, weighing his words, before continuing. "For a person they care about," he said, his voice quieter, "For a person they want to protect."

With sheer intensity, she placed her hands on his face and pulled him towards her into a deep kiss.

Caught off guard momentarily, he froze for a brief instant as her hands cupped his face, drawing him closer. But as her lips met his in a deep, intense kiss, any surprise he may have had melted away.

Lyutsifer responded with equal fervour, one hand instantly going to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, while the other gripped the edge of the bed. Y/N tried to ignore the burn of her back as she tried to sit up so she could kiss him deeper. Subtly wincing into his lips, but refusing to pull away.

Her attempt to sit up and intensify the kiss didn’t go unnoticed by him. As she winced in pain, he felt her gasp against his lips, the subtle wince she tried to hide. Not wanting to cause her further discomfort, he slowly eased her back against the pillows, breaking the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes scanning her face, concern etched in his features.

"Darling, you need to rest," he said, his voice stern but soft. "You're still healing; you shouldn't move so much."

“Haven’t I made you wait long enough?” She asked, trying to sit back up again only to be stopped by his hands holding her down.

“You’ve been asleep for three days,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can wait a little longer.”

He reached over, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “You’re too eager, darling. You need time to properly recover.”

With a sigh, Y/N looked down slightly but nodded in disappointed understanding, “So how long am I stuck in this bed then?”

"For at least a few more days," he answered, his tone firm. "You need to rest and let your body heal. The doctor will be checking on you regularly, and you'll have to take it easy until your wounds are fully healed."

“And then?”

He ran his fingers idly through her hair as she asked her question, his touch gentle and tender.

"And then," he replied, "you'll be free to move around again. Well, within reason."

He smirked before continuing, "But you'll still have to take it easy for a while. No more attempting to break out of bed just because you're impatient."

“So what exactly am I supposed to do till then?” She asked as Lyutsifer moved to sit next to her on the bed.

"Rest, darling," he said, his tone firm but not without a hint of affection. "You need to let your body recover. You can read, watch TV, or I could find you something to keep you occupied. But you're not leaving this room for the time being."

“Okay.” She agreed, although secretly she couldn’t wait for the doctor to sign her off and allow her to move around again.