#choir brat

[chronicsyd]

speaking of Wish, I need to know if I'm going crazy or not cause listening to some of the songs it feels like the way it's being sung doesn't match the instrumentals at all. like does anyone else hear it or is it just a me thing?

(and I'm not just talking about "This is the thanks i get?!" and Chris Pine's inability to sound like a villain, I'm talking about almost every song on the soundtrack)

[formerplumi]

( crow choir. prologue ) ── fame is a fickle food. (m.s/next)

author's note at the end, pls read! (l/n) is not the direct insert.

even when she knows she’s got money stashed away, notes she’ll never use to replace the stale, gray oats she’s ploughing through with a flimsy plastic spoon, money she’ll use instead for a bottle of cheap ecstasy later instead, (l/n) doesn’t think she’s a bad sister. 

even as she forces the spoon through the little mouth of her dear little (name), holding their head to keep them from babbling and gagging at the meal, (l/n) is not a bad sister.

scummy business doesn’t pay much in gotham. where pretty powder packets and cloudy liquid injections make thousands on the streets of a better city, it’s too average a dealing here. “home-made” a customer joked once, “gotham’s specialty.” (l/n) gave him a wry smile, in acknowledgment, not humor. 

irritated, is an easy way to put it. (l/n) is frustrated. she used to dream of being a singer, a big, famous singer, with the voice of a nightingale piercing through the monotonous black and whites of the city with the deep blue of her solemn voice.

she had her story all planned out. young (l/n) knew only her mother and her rented apartment, forced to share commodities with a bastard child from her mother’s many affairs. but ah, she was so welcoming and kind-hearted! a true teresa, treating the kid like an angel sent just to her, performing her little do-re-mis to a giggling toddler, who pulled at her hair and pawed at her face in affection.

the vocals classes her mother weaseled her into, would have the teachers notice her wonderful voice, urging her and encouraging her to perform professionally. she’d make her way into a big gala, people would applaud, and she'd be as wealthy as the other filthy rich socialites in gotham. eventually, she’d help her mom, and her baby sibling leave the mean tenant’s apartment, and they’d eat soft bread and smooth butter, nothing like the grainy spreads on hard loafs they ate now.

but a city covered in gargoyle statuettes has no place for the dreams of a little grosbeak.

their mother didn’t come home one day. and she didn’t come home the next day either. when (l/n) opened the door on the third day in tears, hoping hysterically it was mummy dearest, she had to break down again at the sight of a stone-faced policeman.

she’s allowed to feel resentful, isn’t she? dreams punctured before they even had the chance to take flight, burdened with the duty of caring for a ditzy little kid at just eighteen. 

none of her old teachers, none of the old shrinking men who regularly asked her to sing at their clubs, parties, helped. not even the slightest comfort came to the miserable, mourning girl. nobody wanted to have the stain of commissioning a helpless girl, what were they, taking advantage of a poor child’s misfortune?

in desperation, in poverty, she quit her part job as a cashier, having no time for it and turned to a less pleasant way of work. scouring through the dirty, shit-smelling allies of gotham to sell lame drugs and smoke to worse-off people.

and this… ungrateful brat won’t even eat the little food she works so hard to provide? she’s lived off her own products, hoping to dull the ache of hunger with weak alcohol, and this bitch refuses to eat?

she hates them enough to want to fling them out the window.

but… she loves them too dearly to ever try. and so, another one of gotham’s teenage misfortunes goes to bed with a heavy heart, after coaxing her little baby (name)’s big doe eyes to sleep.

the police station smells like disinfectant and sounds like tv static, but maybe it’s just your dazed head making up the buzzing.

the officers tried, as gently as they could, to get you to talk, explain what happened. but they mistook your silence as numb-tongue from the shock of her death, leaving you to be with yourself for a while, calm down.

your eyes are eerily fixated on the colourful cartoon playing on a small tv they're propped you up in front of, the characters' bright voices dissolving into the ringing in your ears. you watch them harp about kindness and togetherness distastefully, lamenting their shrill songs and wishing your big sister would sing to you instead.

you feel guilty. you took her voice away. your existence ruined the hopes she had for her future, her golden days were rusted by you. it should’ve been you instead. you, instead of her.

it’s unbecoming of a child your age to chew on their nails, your sister had scolded once, scowling. but she’s not here anymore, so you occupy yourself with peeling skin off your fingers, no thought to how much it'll ache later. 

your clothes feel thin, and your body’s so hot with sickness you shiver. a lady officer had wrapped a big brown coat around you, but it lays discarded at your side. you deserve no comfort.

and you repeat this day. over and over and over in your head for the next four years, and more to come. you repeat the memory of the day your little apartment world became far too big for you to handle, the memory of your faults, the memory of your sister.

you are a sickly child. you are a sick child. you deserve no comfort.

suffocation is too harsh a word to use for the luxury you're so suddenly plunged into, but it is claustrophobic and horrifyingly unfamiliar. there are far too many people in the house, stalking the too-wide corridors, under too-tall ceilings, your nerves shake whenever you walk past them.

your head spins from all the lights and paintings, carved furniture and embroidered carpets. they've dropped a little mole into a vast jungle of glass chandeliers and decorative flowers, with no hand to hold their pathetic paws and guide them around and out.

your body stays tense, strung like a bow, even as the butler weaves you with the utmost care through what seems like infinite corridors, to a pretty little door with a shining handle. you furrow your brows, to rest the contempt you hold at the polished wood, resenting the gleam of it, that which resembled his set hair and his loathsome suit.

the loathsome suit you saw four... no, twelve years too late, and vow to see as sparingly as possible.

you'd take back the vile gray oats and 'tough love' of your sister over these new inexplicable pastries and cold businessmen any day.

you miss her. you deserve no comfort.

INTERACTIONS AND REBLOGS VV APPRECIATED !! i hope this is an adequate introduction the the series, and i will expand on this significantly. future updates are fueled by reader interactions, so if you do end up liking this, please do let me know your thoughts by commenting or re-blogging.

regarding the genre, style and tropes: reader insert is gender neutral. while noir is more of a style, more present in movies than prose, i do want to attempt at at least a similar sense in the form of a writing genre. as for the "yandere" tags, i'm unsure how else to put it. i'm aware there are more niche terms that would better describe the characterisations that'll be present, but they're neither popular nor easy (for me) to describe. that aside, the traits that'll (eventually) be displayed will showcase yan-tendencies, so i hope you don't feel like i'm trying to bait anyone with tags.

thank you for reading!!

[claramelooo]

Hey, my lovers! How are you guys? I hope you're good! As for me... I'm in my fertile period and that's why the chapters are so naughty and I won't say sorry for that!

Enjoy and hold your little hands for yourselves Lmao <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NSFW, ANGST, DEEP JEALOUSY

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem Reader x Tough Natasha (don't get too excited about it)

Summary: You decide to take revenge on Wanda out of jealousy, you just didn't expect her to have the same plan as you.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson | Part 7 - Dependece | Part 8 - Passion

VELVET CHAINS

Revenge

Wanda’s Sunday started early. The clock barely struck six in the morning, yet she was already up, moving through the house with the precision of a well-rehearsed orchestra. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen as she prepared toast for the twins, mentally checking off the day’s obligations. Sunday service was the week’s main event, and Wanda took her image—and that of the Maximoff family—very seriously.

Getting the boys ready was the first step. Tommy and Billy, still groggy, took turns complaining while Wanda, with unyielding patience, adjusted their shirts and straightened their ties. She made sure they looked impeccable: starched shirts, shining shoes. After all, they were the sons of the woman who led the choir. They had a reputation to uphold.

“Billy, stop messing with your collar. It’ll end up crooked,” she warned, raising a pointed finger at her son, who rolled his eyes but complied.

Vision was next. He entered the room with a restrained yawn, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Wanda was already prepared, holding two tie options. One was dark gray, sober and classic; the other, navy blue with small geometric details that conveyed seriousness without being overly rigid.

“This one.” She handed him the navy tie with firm decisiveness, her gaze assessing every detail as though deciding the fate of a delicate negotiation. “Serious but approachable. You know how people notice everything.”

Vision accepted without question, smiling at her with a hint of admiration. He knew Wanda had a special talent for these things, for controlling the atmosphere and ensuring everything was perfect.

But Wanda had her own preparations. Choosing her outfit was a different ritual, something more intimate, imbued with a kind of excitement she wouldn’t dare admit, even to herself. The Sunday dress had to convey purity, elegance, and a touch of authority. She settled on a navy-blue dress with lace accents, paired with discreet heels and pearl bracelets.

However, when she entered the bedroom to retrieve her outfit, she couldn’t help but smile at what she had laid out for you.

On the bed, your clothes were folded to perfection: a simple yet elegant dress fitting the occasion’s style. Beside them, meticulously arranged, were your undergarments. And placed dead center, almost like a calculated provocation, was a discreet, silent vibrator, still encased in its translucent silicone packaging.

Wanda stood still for a moment, her eyes fixed on the object. It was intentional, of course. Everything she did always was. The vibrator wasn’t just a provocation; it was a message.

“Remember who you belong to,” it screamed without words.

You entered the room seconds later, the sound of the door announcing your arrival. Your eyes fell on the bed and then on the vibrator. Your face flushed instantly, which only made Wanda’s smile widen, subtle but laden with intent.

“I thought you might need a little... encouragement,” Wanda remarked casually, adjusting the pearl necklace around her neck as though she were commenting on the weather.

“Wanda... this is...” you began, but the words failed you.

“It’s appropriate, darling,” she interrupted, stepping closer to you. “Because even when we’re in the sanctuary, even when we’re surrounded by hymns and prayers... you shouldn’t forget who you belong to.”

Wanda reached out, holding your chin gently but firmly enough for you to feel her control.

“Now, go get dressed. I want you ready in fifteen minutes,” she instructed, her voice a low, authoritative whisper.

As you left the room, your face burning, Wanda turned back to the mirror, adjusting her necklace once more. Her expression was serene, but a shadow of dark satisfaction danced within her. There was something deeply gratifying in knowing that, even among prayers and sermons, your mind would never stray far from her.

The living room was impeccably tidy, a direct reflection of Wanda’s meticulous nature. Vision stood near the door, making final adjustments to the tie she had chosen. Tommy and Billy, seated on the couch, chattered about something only they found hilariously funny, filling the space with a lightheartedness that seemed to contrast with the growing tension Wanda felt.

She had her back to the stairs when she heard the soft sound of your footsteps descending, and immediately, something inside her stirred. Turning, she raised her eyes toward you — and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

You looked stunning, as always, but there was something more in that moment. Wanda knew exactly what was hidden between your legs, knew the sensation you carried with every hesitant step, and, more than anything, she knew it was because of her. Her gaze slid almost imperceptibly over your body, lingering for just a fraction of a second longer than it should have on your legs before meeting your flushed face.

There was hunger in her eyes. A hunger she suppressed instantly, lifting her chin with the elegance that was almost her trademark. But the flame in Wanda’s eyes didn’t lie — and you felt it hit you like a blow.

“Wow, you look amazing!” Tommy exclaimed, jumping up from the couch to get a better look at you. “If you don’t get a boyfriend at church today, I’m giving up on humanity.”

“Tommy!” Billy rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his laughter. “She doesn’t need a boyfriend. Women can be happy without men these days.”

You smiled, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “Thank you, boys. But I think I already have enough to worry about without having to think about... boyfriends.”

Vision’s soft laugh filled the room. “It’s good to stay focused, Y/n. Yale isn’t going to accept anything less than your best self.”

But Wanda didn’t laugh. She kept watching you, her dark, unwavering gaze fixed as she crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, as if assessing every word you said and every movement the boys made.

“She’s right,” Wanda finally said, her voice calm but carrying a sharp note that drew everyone’s attention to her. “Boyfriends are distractions. Especially for someone with goals as important as Y/n’s.”

Her comment seemed to end the conversation, with Tommy and Billy suddenly shifting their focus to their shoes or their phones. But you felt the weight of Wanda’s stare, locked on you, as if daring you to entertain even the thought of shifting your focus away from her.

The tension was palpable. You knew the boys’ comments had irritated her. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, something more possessive. Wanda hated the thought of you imagining yourself belonging to anyone else.

When Vision finally declared it was time to leave, Wanda moved with her usual elegance, but as she passed you, her hand subtly grazed your arm, her delicate nail lightly scratching your skin.

“You look beautiful, bunny,” she murmured so quietly that only you could hear.

Your heart raced as you followed the group out of the house, hyper-aware of every step, every sensation, and especially Wanda’s gaze burning into your back.

The church was steeped in reverent silence, the kind of heavy stillness that amplified every little sound. The pastor spoke with a firm yet calm voice, his words captivating the congregation. Occasional murmurs of agreement and the rustling of Bible pages were the only sounds accompanying his sermon on righteousness and devotion.

You sat next to Wanda, trying to maintain the impeccable posture she always demanded in moments like these. Your hands rested in your lap, fingers tightly interlaced in a futile attempt to mask the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. You were already uncomfortable—not just from the rising heat within you but from the constant awareness of what you carried between your legs.

And then, it happened.

The almost imperceptible hum of the vibrator roared in your ears, deafening despite your certainty that no one else in the church could hear it. The sensation was immediate, a wave of heat radiating from your core, spreading through your body and raising goosebumps on every inch of your skin.

You swallowed hard, eyes wide, but kept your gaze fixed on the pulpit, as though the sheer effort of appearing unaffected might save you. But your body was betraying you. A faint tremor ran through your legs, so subtle that only Wanda, sitting beside you, could notice.

She noticed.

Her fingers slid slowly across the wooden pew until they barely brushed against your hand. The touch was gentle, almost casual, but the deliberate pressure made your heart pound even harder. She knew.

You shifted slightly on the bench, searching for a position that might ease the intensity of the stimulation, but it only made things worse. The vibrator pressed against your most sensitive spot, and every movement amplified the pulsing vibrations. Your entire body felt ablaze.

“Shh…” Wanda whispered, so low that only you could hear. The tip of her fingers traced a slow, calming circle over the back of your hand—a gesture that, to others, appeared comforting, but to you, was an inescapable reminder of her control.

You were sweating now. Fine beads formed along your hairline, trailing down the back of your neck as you struggled to breathe deeply and steadily, but every vibration seemed to steal the air from your lungs.

Your knee trembled, and you pressed it against the pew to disguise it, but Wanda noticed. Always perceptive, she leaned in slightly, just enough to whisper once more: “Be a good girl for me, bunny.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to beg her to stop, to give you a moment of relief, but her calm gaze, fixed on the pastor, said it all. She had no intention of stopping. Not now.

Every second seemed to drag. The sermon, which you usually barely paid attention to, now felt interminable. Your body was so tense that your thighs ached from trying to contain the spasms. Shame burned on your face, but you couldn’t—dared not—make a single move that might give away what was happening.

When the pastor asked everyone to stand for prayer, your heart stopped for a moment. You could barely manage to get to your feet, your legs trembling as Wanda, with an almost imperceptible smile, took your hand and helped you up.

“Good girl,” she murmured again, and the vibrator finally stopped.

The relief was as intense as the torment, but you knew Wanda had won once more.

Wanda watched everything with a calm that was unsettling, almost impenetrable to anyone observing from the outside. While the pastor spoke about redemption and morality, her attention wasn’t on the sermon but on you—every small tremor, every ragged breath, every bead of sweat trailing down the side of your face. It was a sight that fascinated her in a dark, almost intoxicating way.

She was in control, and the control filled her with a shadowy pleasure that rivaled anything else she could feel. It wasn’t just the power to activate the vibrator pulsing between your legs or to dictate your submission in such a sacred and public space. It was the cruel satisfaction of watching you wrestle with yourself, seeing your body surrender while your mind begged for relief, for an end to the torment.

When your knee trembled, Wanda noticed before you even tried to hide it. A cold smile threatened to touch her lips, but she restrained it, maintaining the flawless mask of a devout wife and respectable mother. Even so, her eyes betrayed something deeper—a latent hunger, a predatory gleam that intensified with every sign of your suffering.

She adored the contrast.

You, so young, so vibrant, trying to be strong while slowly unraveling beside her. With every nervous adjustment you made on the pew, every breath you held in a futile attempt to conceal your vulnerability, Wanda felt a dark warmth grow in her chest. It was a dangerous mix of possession and cruelty, something she would never admit to anyone—not even herself.

But she knew.

The control she wielded over you was a secret shared only between the two of you, a bond she had forged and now held tightly. The mere fact that you couldn’t react, couldn’t scream or beg in that environment, made the experience all the more delightful for her. It was as if every one of your sighs, every drop of sweat, was a silent offering to the power she held over you.

When she whispered “Good girl” while helping you stand, Wanda couldn’t hide the malicious satisfaction that coursed through her. Seeing you on your feet, trembling, struggling against the weight of your own desire while everyone around remained blissfully unaware, was the confirmation of her victory.

She turned her gaze back to the pulpit, maintaining the serene façade, but inside, a dark and hungry part of her roared with pleasure. Knowing you had endured all of it for her, that your body responded so perfectly to her provocations, filled Wanda with an almost cruel satisfaction.

“You look beautiful like this,” she thought, catching a glimpse of the sheen of sweat on your forehead and the subtle tremor in your legs. “Beautiful in your fragility. Beautiful when you know you belong to me.”

When the sermon ended, Wanda held your hand firmly as they walked out of the church. To anyone watching, she was the picture of kindness and compassion—but inside, the dark pleasure still burned like an inextinguishable flame.

[...]

The midday heat made the glare from the pool water almost blinding, but nothing was more intense than the uncomfortable burning sensation in your chest. You were sitting in the shade with a glass of lemonade in your hands, but your attention was entirely on Wanda.

She was on the other side of the yard, next to Vision. Her laugh was light, almost musical, as she made a comment that drew laughter from Agnes and the other neighbors around her. Wanda seemed perfectly comfortable in her role as a devoted wife, the ideal woman: attentive, affectionate and… affectionate.

So affectionate that her fingers ran down Vision's arm in a way that made you squeeze the glass in your hands hard enough that the plastic rim threatened to crack.

You tried to look away, tried to focus on the blue sky or the unimportant conversations around you, but your eyes always returned to Wanda. She had a magnetic presence, as if the whole universe was conspiring so that you couldn't ignore her.

And then came the worst.

Vision leaned over Wanda, and she returned the gesture, smiling as she caressed his face with a delicacy you knew all too well. He said something low, inaudible, and Wanda let out a soft laugh before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips.

You clutched the glass in your hands. The anger and jealousy bubbling up in your stomach. Thoughts so bad and irrational running like a loop in your mind, you just wished you could disappear.

Agnes was a woman of Wanda's age, she seemed just as admirable. Both important women in the neighborhood and married to their respective husbands.

Agnes was the kind of woman who exuded charisma effortlessly. Her words were always carefully chosen, her laughter always at the right moment. She had an almost hypnotic charm, like Wanda, but in a different way - less subtle, more direct. You couldn't tell for sure what it was, but there was something about her that didn't seem to fit perfectly with the image of exemplary wife and neighbor that she projected.

She was standing by the pool, holding a glass of white wine, her lips painted an impeccable red that contrasted with the pearly shade of her teeth. Her dark eyes were expressive and shone with an energy that seemed to hide a secret or two. From time to time, she cast curious glances at you, but not in an uncomfortable way - at least, not at first.

As you watched Wanda and Vision once again exchanging falsely affectionate endearments, you noticed Agnes tilting her head, as if studying your reaction. When your eyes met, she smiled. It was a small, almost enigmatic smile, as if she could see something you didn't want to show.

“You look… thoughtful,” she commented, approaching with elegant steps. Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of something else - an insinuating tone that made your skin shiver slightly.

“Oh, I'm just tired,” you replied, forcing a smile as you tried to control the emotions boiling up inside you.

Agnes didn't look convinced. She sipped her wine, keeping her eyes fixed on you. “Tired of what? The party or… something else?”

The question made your throat tighten. You looked at her, trying to decipher the expression on her face. There was something about her that seemed to understand more than she should. Before you could answer, Wanda's voice cut through the air, clear and controlled as ever.

“Agnes, why don't you come and help Vision put more ice in his drinks? He insists on doing it anyway,” she said, laughing softly.

Agnes's smile widened, but she didn't seem in the slightest hurry to obey the invitation. “Of course, Wanda,” she replied, but not before casting one last glance at you, full of something that seemed both curious and… amused?

When she finally pulled away, you let out the breath you hadn't even realized you were holding.

But the discomfort only grew.

Wanda's jealousy was suffocating, but now it was mixed with a growing irritation towards Agnes. There was something about the way she spoke, as if she was always analyzing everything, dissecting the dynamics around her. And you hated to think that maybe she could see what you were trying to hide.

As Wanda continued to play her role as the perfect wife, a laugh echoing here and there, Agnes rejoined the group, now at Wanda's side. They seemed to be chatting animatedly, and suddenly, you noticed something that made you uneasy: the way Agnes' eyes slipped to Wanda when she thought no one was looking.

It was subtle, but you saw it.

Your heart squeezed, jealousy intensifying in waves. Vision wasn't enough. Now Agnes? What was so irresistible about Wanda that everyone around her seemed to want something more? And then, as if sensing your gaze, Wanda turned her head towards you again. This time, there was no disguise.

She held your gaze for a moment too long, her lips curving into a smile that seemed to be just for you. A smile that reminded you exactly who was in control.

You wanted to run. Run and cry like a baby. For a moment you even thought it would be better if you'd never left that stupid fucking convent. You looked up at the sky to try and stop the tears from falling.

No. You wouldn't cry.

You clenched your fists, feeling your nails dig into the palms of your hands. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Wanda had the power to dismantle you with a single glance, while she stood there, laughing and exchanging fake caresses with Vision, allowing Agnes or anyone else to approach her as if they were worthy of it.

What hurt most was not just the jealousy, but the frustration of knowing that, however much you wanted her, she would never be completely yours.

She had a life, an image to preserve. Vision was the exemplary husband. Agnes was the nosy but harmless friend. You? You were just a secret. A sin that she whispered to herself at night and pretended not to carry with her in the morning.

You took a deep breath, but the knot in your throat only seemed to tighten. Everything around you seemed to mock you. The sound of laughter, the clinking of wine glasses, the lively conversation that didn't include you. You needed to get out of there. Now.

Without saying a word, without looking at anyone, you placed the empty glass on the nearest table and walked quickly out of the yard. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of your heart was anchored to your feet.

You stepped out onto the sidewalk, breathed in the fresh night air, but it didn't bring you the relief you were hoping for. Why did you subject yourself to this? Why did you still insist on getting hurt by someone who could never be yours?

Your cell phone vibrated in your pocket, and when you pulled it out, Yelena's name flashed on the screen. She had sent you a message earlier, asking if you were available to talk.

Yelena. Of course, she'd be there. She always was.

You started walking, without looking back, without even considering going back. Your mind was already made up. It didn't matter what Wanda thought or said afterwards. She was good at making you feel special, but she was also good at forgetting you when she didn't need you.

The walk to Yelena's house was quick, but it seemed to last forever. You thought of everything you wanted to say to her, but the words seemed blurred, lost amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

When you finally arrived and knocked on the door, it opened almost immediately. Yelena was barefoot, with messy hair and a surprised expression that was soon replaced by concern.

“Are you all right?” she asked, without even waiting for you to explain. You tried to answer, but your voice failed you.

The lump in your throat that you'd been holding in since the party finally loosened, and the tears began to flow. Without hesitation, Yelena pulled you in and wrapped you in a strong hug, which you hadn't even known you needed until that moment.

“Shh, it's okay. Tell me what happened,” she said, her voice low and reassuring.

But how could you explain? How could you tell her about the insane jealousy, the obsession, the forbidden love for Wanda? Yelena was your refuge, but would she be able to understand? Or worse, would she try to convince you to give up, to move on, when all you wanted was to sink even deeper into that destructive feeling?

She carried you by the hand to her room. Looking around, the room was so… Yelena-dark walls, 90s rock band posters pasted up, a desk with books lazily thrown on it. The place smelled of cigarettes, “nothing more Russian than that”, you thought with a chuckle.

“Okay, now talk. What happened?” She stared at you, sitting facing you on the sofa, her legs crossed and her eyes full of expectation and concern.

“I… I don't even know where to start.” Your voice came out shaky, almost a whisper. You pressed your hands against your knees, trying to calm the trembling that seemed to take over your body.

“Try, at least. You came here as if the world was falling down.” She leaned over, touching your hand gently. “And the way you are now, it feels like it's still falling.”

You took a deep breath, but the air didn't seem to fill your lungs. The words were stuck, as if admitting them out loud was a greater crime than carrying them inside you.

“It's her. It's always her. I can't…” Your voice failed, and you bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that insisted on coming back.

“Wanda.” She said the name as a statement, unsurprisingly, but with a weight that made your heart sink even deeper.

“I know what you're going to say. That I should stay away. That it's wrong. That she'll never…” You stopped, the words breaking like glass in your throat.

With a laugh, the blonde continued: “I'm not going to say anything like that.” Her answer took you by surprise, and you finally raised your eyes to meet hers. There was something there-a mixture of understanding and pain that you couldn't interpret.

“You're not going?” Your voice was weak, hesitant.

“No. Because I know you already know all this, I'm sure.” She sighed, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. “But I also know that telling you to give up on her is like asking you to stop breathing. And I'm not going to be cruel like that.”

Her words were a relief, but at the same time, an even greater weight. Because it was true. You knew you were trapped, that this love was a trap you yourself had chosen to walk into.

“I wish… I wish I could hate her. I wanted to be able to look at her and feel anger, contempt, anything other than that.” You made a vague gesture, as if you could explain with your hands what words could not.

“But you can't. Because, somehow, she's managed to make you believe that her love is worth anything. Even if you never really have that love.”

You swallowed, feeling your throat burn.

“She doesn't love me. Not the way I love her.” The words were like knives coming out of your mouth, each one cutting deeper.

“And yet you're still here. Running after crumbs.” The silence that followed was deafening. You had no answer, because you knew she was right.

“What do I do, then?” Your voice was desperate, almost pleading.

“Do you want an answer from the young and irreverent Yelena or the centered and mature Yelena?” She asked, causing you to frown in confusion. And then she continued: “The irreverent Yelena says that we should introduce you to the night, take you to a loud party with drinks and good music. The centered Yelena says that I should welcome your tears with ice cream, hugs and silly movies.”

You looked at Yelena, still frowning, trying to process the options she had just given you. Party? You'd never been to a party before. You were the kind of person who preferred to spend a quiet evening reading a book or listening to music in your room. But now… the idea seemed to carry something extra.

“What if I choose the irreverent Yelena option?” Her voice came out hesitant, but there was a new sparkle in her eyes, a spark of curiosity and… something more.

Yelena flashed a wide grin, the kind of smile that made it seem like she was plotting something that probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Ah, Malysh… then let’s toss the tears aside and dress up to break hearts.”

You laughed, despite everything, and shook your head. But as you laughed, the idea began to take shape more clearly in your mind. Wanda. How would she react if she saw you at a party, surrounded by people, maybe dancing with someone? Would she be able to keep that cold control, the façade of the perfect wife? Or would it crack, even just a little?

Your smile slowly faded as you mulled over the thought. What if this was your chance? Not to hurt her—you would never do that intentionally. But to make her feel a fragment of what you felt every time you saw those touches and smiles meant for Vision.

“And... if I do this, do you think she’d notice?” You bit the corner of your lower lip, asking softly.

Yelena tilted her head to the side, her grin morphing into something more subtle, more analytical. “If ‘she’ is who I think it is... she wouldn’t just notice. She’d be livid. But the question isn’t whether she’ll notice. It’s whether you’re doing this for you or for her.”

You bit your lip again, looking away. It was a fair question but a hard one. The truth was, you didn’t know. Maybe it was for both reasons.

“Maybe I just need to remind myself that there’s a world outside... of her.”

Yelena nodded, her gaze fixed on yours, studying your expression like she was trying to decipher the layers of what you were feeling.

“If that’s what you want, I can help. But be warned: getting into this kind of game can spiral out of your control quickly.”

You pondered for a moment, but the decision was already made deep in your heart. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything. But the idea of ​​seeing Wanda react, of seeing that perfect facade crack, was irresistible.

“Take me to the party, Yelena.” Her mischievous grin returned in full force, and you felt a rush of adrenaline building within you.

For the first time, it felt like you were about to reclaim a fragment of power in a game that always seemed out of your hands.

[...]

The pounding music made the floor vibrate, and the air was thick with a suffocating mix of sweat, cheap perfume, and alcohol. You were already regretting agreeing to Yelena’s idea. The overstimulation was pushing you to the edge—every sound, every smell, every flashing light felt like a shove closer to your breaking point.

Leaning against a wall near the bar, you crossed your arms and stared at the drink in your hand, now warm and unappealing. Yelena, naturally, was in her element. She danced and laughed loudly, completely unbothered by the chaos around her.

Then, as if sensing your growing impatience, she appeared at your side, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

“Okay, clearly you’re not having fun. But don’t worry—I brought backup.”

You raised an eyebrow, ready to complain, but froze the moment you noticed the woman standing beside her. It was impossible not to notice. Natasha Romanoff had a presence that seemed to cut through the noise and chaos. Her gaze was sharp, cold, and piercing, like she was dissecting every detail about you in mere seconds.

“This is my sister, Natasha.”

Natasha inclined her head slightly in a wordless greeting—no handshake, no smile. Just a curt, weighty “Hi.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha was intimidating, not just because of her stiff posture and unreadable expression, but because of the quiet authority she seemed to radiate.

“Nat,” Yelena continued with a grin, “this is my friend—the one I told you about.”

The redhead’s gaze didn’t waver as she spoke. “The shy one who ended up here out of pure stubbornness?”

The jab sent a flare of irritation through you. Your mood was already sour, and now she was treating you like some lost child?

“I might be a lot of things, but stubborn isn’t one of them.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips before her neutral expression returned.

“Hmm. Debatable.”

Yelena laughed, clearly enjoying the tension crackling between the two of you. “Alright, I’m getting another drink. You two play nice, okay?”

Before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with Natasha.

The silence between you was taut but not entirely uncomfortable. Natasha thrived in it, exuding a quiet control without needing to say a word. You, on the other hand, felt like a cornered animal, searching for a way out without showing weakness.

“So,” she said finally, her voice low and even, “what are you really doing here?”

You exhaled sharply, letting your shoulders relax as if surrendering to her scrutiny.

“Trying to forget someone.”

Natasha didn’t respond right away. She studied you with that sharp, unreadable gaze, like she was trying to unearth the truth buried in your words.

“Bad idea. If they’re important, it won’t work.”

“And who says I want it to?” you shot back.

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as if reconsidering something. “Interesting. Usually, people come to parties like this to pretend they have control over their own lives. But you don’t seem like the type.”

Her statement was blunt, almost brutal, but there was something intriguing in the way she spoke. No fluff, no unnecessary niceties.

“And what does that say about me, then

“I’m still deciding.”

Despite the irritation still bubbling inside you, there was something about Natasha that held you captive. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed impervious to any kind of charm or pretense. There were no games here—at least not the obvious ones.

“And you? Did you come here to forget someone too?”

Natasha let out a low sound, maybe a laugh or just a long exhale. “No. I just came to make sure my sister doesn’t cause a catastrophe.”

Her answer pulled an unexpected laugh from you, and Natasha finally allowed a small, discreet smile to play at the corners of her mouth.

“Maybe you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”

Was it a compliment? A jab? You weren’t sure, but for the first time that night, you felt like maybe the party wasn’t so bad after all.

Later, you were tipsy from the alcohol. Your body felt light, and your laughter came easily... especially around Natasha. The redhead wasn’t so bad after all, always complimenting your eyes and how soft and shiny your hair looked.

You found out she was an important agent in a national security agency, though she wouldn’t reveal the name, saying it was “against the terms of her contract.”

You didn’t know what time it was, but you knew it was past 10 p.m. What about Wanda? Had she already put the twins to bed? Had she already made love to Vision in the same bed she’d fucked you in? The thought made you grip your glass tightly and tense your jaw.

You downed the shot and made a cute grimace.

“Hey, little girl... slow down.” Natasha gave you a calming look, making you snort and roll your eyes. “Sweetheart, watch your manners...” she warned.

“Fuck it, I wanna dance!” You jumped off the stool, which was a bit too high for your height, your feet dangling just above the floor as you swung them when you got anxious with your thoughts. Adorable—though Natasha would deny it until the end, obviously.

The redhead followed you onto the dance floor, momentarily forgetting about Yelena. The sway of your hips, brushing against hers, dared her to move in rhythm with you. The way you tossed your head made your hair bounce, sending its scent directly to her.

"Your hair smells like grapes," she murmured in your ear—her voice tinged with something almost distracted, like she was lost in the scent and the way your body moved. It made you turn to face her.

Her gaze was intense, but there was something else beneath it. Fear? Why?

Natasha seemed to snap back to reality, her posture stiffening as she masked her expression, retreating into her usual taciturn demeanor. “I… I’ll go find Yelena,” she said before walking away.

You nodded, watching her until she disappeared completely from sight. A few minutes later, you found Yelena sitting at the bar, chatting casually with the bartender.

“Hey, Yelly!” you called out, your voice bright and cheerful from the alcohol buzzing in your veins.

The blonde turned to look at you, her eyes scanning you up and down, clearly gauging just how drunk you were. “Y/n, please tell me you don’t get hangovers,” she said, closing her eyes in mock prayer.

“Yelly, your sister…” You started to speak, but before you could finish, a voice cut through the noise, freezing you in place.

“Y/n.”

That firm, authoritative tone made your heart stop for a moment.

You turned slowly, and there she was—Wanda. Impeccably dressed as always, but with an expression sharp enough to split the air. Her eyes were dark with fury, and her chin was slightly raised, a telltale sign of someone who either had control of the situation or was desperately trying to regain it.

“What are you doing here?”

You tried to respond, but the words were tangled in your mind. The alcohol wasn’t helping at all. Before you could form a coherent reply, Yelena stepped in.

“She’s having fun. You should try it sometime, Maximoff.”

The provocation was deliberate, and Wanda shot a venomous glare at the blonde.

“And you thought bringing her to a place like this, filling her up with alcohol, and letting her dance with strangers was a good idea?”

Yelena crossed her arms, puffing out her chest as if to intimidate Wanda—not that it worked.

“She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions.”

Wanda laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound laced with scorn. “Terrible decisions, clearly.”

You could feel the tension rising like a tide around you. You wanted to step in, but the words still wouldn’t come. Wanda took a step closer, now fully focused on Yelena, ignoring you for the moment.

“If you think you can toy with her like one of your one-night flings, you’re sorely mistaken.” Her eyes glinted dangerously.

Yelena didn’t back down, stepping forward to meet Wanda’s challenge. It was like a dance, both of them fighting for control, neither willing to give an inch.

“Do you even hear yourself? Who’s really toying with her here, Wanda?”

The answer made Wanda blink, just for a second, before her expression hardened again.

“I don't need to justify anything to you.” She said between breaths.

“You don't. But maybe you should to her.” Yelena shot back, pointing the glass of vodka in your direction.

Wanda's gaze returned to you, and your heart raced. She was furious, but there was something else in her eyes - a mixture of concern and possessiveness that seemed to struggle to hide behind the mask of anger.

“Let's go, Y/n.”

It was an order, not a request.

You hesitated, looking at Yelena, who just shrugged as if to say: It's up to you. But the weight of Wanda's gaze was overwhelming. You lowered your head, biting your lip and holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Okay...” You whispered softly, giving one last look to your friend who just nodded.

Walking out of the party, you felt your body being pushed into some dark place and hitting the corner of some sharp iron, making you squeal in pain. However, Wanda seemed to care much more about killing you with one look.

Wanda was standing in front of you, her breathing heavy and her eyes glowing with a mixture of anger and something darker. You instinctively backed away, but the metal spike in your back reminded you that there was nowhere to go.

“Do you realize what you did in there?” Her voice was low, but charged with fury. “Dancing, drinking, rubbing up against anyone who paid attention to you.”

“I was just… trying to have fun.” Your voice came out shaky, but you tried to keep it steady.

Wanda let out a dry, humorless laugh, taking a step towards you.

“Have fun?” The word came out as an insult. “With Yelena pushing drinks at you and Natasha looking at you like she's going to devour you? Is that what you call fun?”

“And what did you want me to do, Wanda?” The words escaped before you could stop yourself. “Sit at home, waiting for you to decide that I deserve some of your attention? Be content to watch you be the perfect wife while I run myself ragged inside?”

The intensity of the silence that followed was suffocating. Wanda stopped, her eyes narrowed, as if she were measuring the impact of your words. Finally, she took another step, her proximity taking your breath away.

“Watch your mouth, young lady.”

“Why?” You lifted your chin, tears starting to form in your eyes, but your voice was defiant. “The truth hurts, doesn't it? I love you, Wanda, but you only know how to play with me! Use me whenever you want and then go back to your perfect life with Vision!”

Wanda didn't reply immediately. Her face hardened, anger flowing from her eyes like lava. Then, almost unexpectedly, she grabbed your chin firmly, forcing you to look at her.

“You're a spoiled brat,” she hissed, her sharp tone cutting through the air. “A selfish little girl who thinks the world revolves around her.”

You tried to wriggle out of her grip, but her gaze seemed to pin you in place.

Do you know what you need?” Her voice was lower now, almost a whisper. “A lesson. Someone to teach you to control that insolent mouth of yours and stop acting like you're the center of the universe.”

You swallowed, your heart beating wildly. There was something in the way she spoke, in the darkness of her eyes, that made you shiver.

“And you're going to be that person?” The question escaped your lips before you could think, defiant despite the tremor evident in your voice.

Wanda let go of you abruptly, as if the touch had burned her hand, her eyes blazing. The woman pulled your hair back, so violently that your head was taken with it.

“Attention. That's what you wanted, isn't it, little tramp?” Wanda turns you to face the wall while she still has a handful of your hair in her hand.

Wanda leaned towards you, moving closer until your faces were so close that you could feel the warmth emanating from her, along with the soft perfume that always accompanied her. Her heart seemed to be pounding in her ears, each pulse echoing like a drum.

“Do you want to know if I'm going to be that person?” Her voice was a whisper laden with something dark and irresistible. “Do you really want to test me, Y/n?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn't make a sound. Before you could react, Wanda ran her fingers down the side of your face, tracing the outline of your jaw in such a delicate way that it seemed to completely contradict the brute force you had felt just a few minutes before.

“I should. I should teach you the difference between wanting and deserving. Because, honestly, you have no idea what you're asking for.” The words came out slowly, almost lazily, but loaded with a weight that made her legs weak, even though she was sitting down.

She pulled her fingers away from your face and held your chin firmly, forcing you to look into her eyes. They were dark, almost black, and there was an intensity there that made something in you freeze and boil at the same time.

“Do you think you're brave, teasing me like that? Playing with something you can't control? Little…” A smile curved her lips, but it was a cruel, predatory smile. “You have no idea what I can do to you.” Wanda rubbed against you, making you feel a roughness, something stiff in her pants.

Her hand went down to your neck, her fingers lightly touching the base of your throat. It wasn't a squeeze, but her mere presence there made you feel as if the air was being stolen.

“You know what the problem is?” She continued, leaning in even closer. “You think you can control this, but the truth is that you're already mine. Every thought that goes through your head, every time you try to challenge me, every part of your body-all of it already belongs to me, even if you won't admit it.”

She rubbed herself more and more, making her pussy feel gooey and sticky.

“I'm inside your head, your heart. Inside your skin, Y/n.” She laughed against your ear-as if it was silly of you to think you could change that.

You tried to say something, but her hand on your neck came up to cover your mouth, interrupting any words. Her smile widened, but her eyes were more serious than ever.

“Shhh… Don't say anything. Don't try to answer me. You've said enough, and look where it's gotten you.”

Slowly, Wanda pulled her hand away, but she didn't move from her spot, still close enough for the weight of her presence to be almost overwhelming.

“You want my attention, don't you? Well, congratulations. Now you have all of it. But I'm going to give you a warning, bunny…” She tilted her head, her eyes burning into his as she squeezed his neck. “If you keep challenging me, I promise you won't like what happens. Because when I lose control…” Squeezing, squeezing and squeezing. Wanda savored it when you ran out of air and gasped for it. “…no one will save you from me.”

You felt your panties being ripped brutally, and you bucked, already craving the woman's rough touch. The head of the belt caressed your entrance, like a kiss - or torture.

Lunch at Agnes' house should have been a simple distraction, a chance to sustain the Maximoff family's impeccable façade. Wanda knew how to play the role of devoted wife and loving mother to perfection. Vision at her side, always so polished, the twins running around the pool, laughing loudly, while she served drinks and exchanged cordial words with Agnes. A perfect picture of normality.

But you.

You were there, trying to disappear among the other guests, but

Wanda always found you. Her gaze had an unerring way of finding you, even when you didn't want it to. Especially when she didn't want to. The way you looked at her - full of something intense, something forbidden - made her burn from the inside out.

And then came the twins' innocent, or perhaps not so innocent, comments. They were sharp, as only children could be. “Y/n, you're so pretty. You'll get a boyfriend at church, I'm sure!”

Wanda froze for a moment, the glass of lemonade in her hand almost slipping. Their laughter seemed to echo in her ears, and then she looked at you. Her expression was a mixture of embarrassment and something else. Something that only Wanda seemed to see.

You blushed, stammered something to change the subject, but it didn't work. Wanda saw the discomfort, the hurt in your eyes, and something inside her clenched tightly. But it was different from what she had expected. It wasn't empathy. It wasn't compassion.

It was anger.

Anger at herself for wanting you in a way she shouldn't have. Anger at Vision, who seemed so oblivious to the storm roaring inside her. And, above all, anger at you. For being there. For feeling so much. For making her feel so much.

When you disappeared from the party without warning, Wanda tried to ignore it. She tried to convince herself that she didn't care. But the thought of you wandering around alone, your thoughts in turmoil, made her grit her teeth. Then, when night fell and you didn't show up for dinner, Wanda lost her patience.

She didn't have to ask where you were. She didn't have to search. A cold, sure intuition led her straight to you. Yelena. Of course it would be her.

The sound of loud music and laughter echoed through the night as Wanda parked her car in front of the club. She felt her chest tighten, the air in the car becoming heavy. Her hands were shaking slightly, but she wasn't sure if it was from anger or the anticipation of seeing you again - and bringing you back under her control.

As she entered, the atmosphere almost suffocated her. The smell of alcohol, the sweat of dancing bodies, and the throb of the bass in the speakers were oppressive. But it was the sight of you - in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with Natasha Romanoff - that really destroyed her.

The way you laughed, the way the light reflected off your hair, the closeness between you and the other woman… it was unbearable. Something feral and possessive grew inside her, darkening her vision.

Now with you here, in front of her. All Wanda wanted was to make you pay. Looking at your trembling, demanding body - already so ready for her… The woman releases you, stepping back and making you look at her with puppy dog eyes.

Wanda smiles darkly.

“Aren't you a precious little whore?” She asked herself. “Kneel.” You were so well trained by her, being her good girl.

“Suck my cock, make it juicy for you, little girl.” Wanda ran the base of the strap-on over your lips, making you open them slowly, taking the toy into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“That’s right, honey…” It excited Wanda to see you like that, humiliated, subjugated, sucking the cum off your plastic cock after you disobeyed her.

Grabbing your head, the woman pushes it deeper into your throat, making you cough. “Shh… breathe through your nose, Dekta.” The excitement was all there. In commanding, directing your steps, humiliating you and then welcoming you.

“Stand up and turn around again. Face forward this time, as much as I love your ass, I need your eyes for myself.” Wanda said, already positioning the strap-on at your entrance, however she only introduced the toy when you said she could.

Arching your back and breathing hard as Wanda's cock stretched you wide, you murmured, "Mommy, harder!" Wanda's eyes, which had previously been filled with rage, shone with the definition of the purest, rawest desire.

"Oh, look at that… My little slut is showing her claws… She likes to be taken hard, huh? Fucked until that tight little pussy of yours is all swollen, huh?"

The woman began with the thrusts, making you delirious. She placed you on top of a table so that you could wrap your legs around her waist—loving this position.

You moaned loudly, crazy, and Wanda increased the intensity in response. "Scream! That's it, scream! Let everyone hear who you belong to… Yelena, Natasha… They're no one to you, they could never make you moan like that."

Wanda murmured unconsciously, crazy with desire. You howled when you felt Wanda's cock go deeper inside you.

"Yes, baby. Only mommy knows how to do it, right? Only mommy knows how to hit your hot, juicy spot, right?”

“Mo-mommy!” You gasped, feeling your legs tremble—announcing the strong orgasms you were going to have.

“Oh, do you think you deserve it, Dekta?” She asked, her mouth sucking on your neck. “After everything you’ve done…” Wanda dug her hands into your hips, leaving finger marks on your immaculate skin.

You whimpered, desperate.

“No, mommy! Don’t deny it, please! I can be good! I ca—” You cut yourself off in a strangled scream as you felt the woman’s index finger caress your clit, prolonging your orgasm.

“But I didn’t even deny anything…” She laughed, enjoying your desperation, “You’re such a smart bitch, aren’t you?” Wanda breathed. “Apologize… apologize to your mommy!”

“Yes! I’m sorry, mommy! I’m sorry! I'm a needy little slut who needs your attention all the time.” You said against her lips, grabbing the lower one and giving it delicious little bites, making her moan into your lips.

“Mine!” She squeezed your clit between her fingers, making you scream and burst into a strong orgasm. “Cum, sweet girl, cum on my cock.”

You trembled around her, throwing your head back, making it irresistible for Wanda not to bite the spot hard. When you returned to your natural state, Wanda gave you no rest—making you kneel again.

“I need something, Dekta…” She let out a shaky sigh, finally exposing her real needs. “Mommy's pussy is sore seeing her baby girl so naughty and needy, fix it now, Y/n.”

You were mesmerized by the way Wanda was rocking her hips in front of you—your excitement gradually building again.

You could smell the woman’s arousal in front of you, intoxicating you. Hungry, you attacked Wanda’s pussy—as if you were kissing her. Hearing the woman exasperate in approval, you continued to do it harder.

“A little more pressure, darling… Oh!” She exclaimed as you reached her burning point. With her eyes rolled back and a deep, guttural moan, Wanda came—having to sit down quickly because her legs were shaking.

You sat up and looked at each other—the insecurity still growing in your eyes at not knowing her thoughts.

“Let’s go, little one.” She said, her voice still hoarse. You followed her, of course—but no words were exchanged on the way home.

[…]

The hot water cascaded down, filling the bathroom with steam. The sound was soothing, drowning out the world outside. You sat in the bathtub, your knees pulled up to your chest, while Wanda gently washed your hair. Your eyes were downcast, avoiding hers, your face marked by the weariness of the turbulent night.

“Do you want to tell me what happened today? Last chance.” Her voice was low, without the harshness of before. She was calm now, and her tone sounded almost motherly, which only made the knot in your chest tighten more.

You hesitated, feeling her hand slide through the strands of your hair, her fingers methodical as she applied the shampoo. “I don’t know where to start,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Start with what bothered you,” she suggested, unhurriedly, her fingers still working gentle circles on your scalp.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to let yourself feel the comfort of her touch. “It was lunch. It was… you and Vision.” The confession came out shaky, and you hated how vulnerable it sounded.

“Me and Vision?” She paused for a moment, her hands stilling before returning to work. “What exactly?”

“I don’t know…” you began, trying to gather your thoughts. “I know he’s your husband. I know that. But I can’t…” Your voice trailed off, and you bit your lip, trying to stop the tears from falling. “I feel like I’m alone… here. Like a shadow. Something you use when you want, but that will never be enough for you.”

Wanda stopped washing your hair and knelt beside you, ignoring the hot water that was soaking your clothes. She took your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes were softer now, but they still held that intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look at me, Y/n.” The order was gentle but firm. You obeyed, even if reluctantly. “I never want to hear you say that again. Do you hear me?”

You blinked, surprised by the seriousness in her voice.

“Do you think I would do all that for just anyone? Do you think I would lose my control, risk everything, for something that meant nothing to me?“

But I—” you tried to argue, but she interrupted, her voice lower, almost a whisper now.

“You’re not something I use. You’re… my refuge. My chaos and my peace at the same time. And yes, I’m selfish. Because even though I know it’s wrong, I can’t let you go.”

Her words disarmed you, taking you completely by surprise. You’d never heard her speak like that before, so open, so raw.

“But Vision, the twins… They’re your life,” you whispered, doubt still heavy in your voice.

“I love my boys, I would die and kill for them… But they, all of them, are my responsibility,” she corrected, her eyes burning into yours. “You are my choice, understand?” You felt the tears start to run down your face, mixing with the water from the shower. Wanda wiped them away with her thumbs, never looking away.

“I know I can’t give you what you deserve,” she continued, her voice almost breaking. “But you need to know that, to me, you are not replaceable. You are unique. And I would do anything for you, darling.”

You wanted to believe her, wanted to hang on to every word, but the doubt still lingered. Wanda seemed to sense this, because she leaned in close, her lips touching your forehead.

“Stop thinking.” She whispered, “Let me be in charge of everything, darling. Mommy will take care of everything.” Wanda helped you up from the tub carefully, holding your hands tightly as if you were going to break at any moment.

The water was still falling, warm against your skin, but you felt the heat of her hands more. She turned off the tap, wrapped a towel around your body and, with infinite patience, began to dry the wet strands of your hair.

The silence between you was filled only by the sound of the fabric rubbing against your skin, a moment as intimate as anything else you had shared.

“Raise your arms,” she asked, with a softness that contrasted with the undeniable authority in her voice. You obeyed without question, letting her put on a light nightgown on you, which seemed too big, probably hers.

As soon as she finished, Wanda took you by the hand and led you to her room. The bed was impeccable, the room perfumed with the soft scent of lavender. You hesitated for a moment at the door, but Wanda, noticing, gave a light tug on your arm for you to follow.

She laid you down carefully, adjusting the blankets around you, and then sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as if she were checking every detail to make sure you were comfortable.

“Am I still going to be punished?” you asked softly, your voice filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Wanda’s smile was barely noticeable, but you saw it. She tilted her head, her fingers caressing your cheek with the same lightness as a feather.

“Without a doubt,” she replied, her tone soft but full of promise that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, but before you could think of a response, Wanda lay down next to you, pulling you closer. Her arms wrapped around you, firm and protective, and she began to run her hand through your wet hair again, an almost hypnotic rhythm.

“Now, close your eyes for me, kitten,” she murmured, her lips close to your ear. You obeyed, feeling her warmth envelop you completely.

She began to rock you with slow, deliberate movements, small, gentle pats on your bottom, following the rhythm of your breathing. It was an unexpected gesture, but strangely comforting, and you felt your body begin to relax.

“You are mine, Y/n,” she said softly, as if she were speaking more to herself than to you. “And I will make you understand that, in every way possible.”

Your eyes grew heavy, the tiredness and the feeling of absolute security finally overcoming the tension of the day. The last thing you felt was Wanda’s comforting touch and the soft melody she hummed, almost imperceptibly, before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

In that moment, as she bathed you, Wanda felt her own anger melt away, transforming into something more tender, but equally selfish.

The care she offered you was not just out of compassion; it was confirmation that you were hers. Every touch, every soft word, was a way of reaffirming that dominance.

And as she rocked you, she felt a peace that almost frightened her.

There was something deeply comforting about seeing you so surrendered, so vulnerable. As if, in that moment, nothing else in the world mattered except you, there, in her arms.

But at the same time, Wanda knew that she still had a long way to go.

Because as she tucked you in, she was also making plans. Plans to show you, slowly and deliberately, that you would never need—nor should—seek comfort anywhere else.

~*~

Y/n don't cry, your mommy is here.

UREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

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[heartofbusan]

The sun's radiant vibe.

Rebirth and the declaration of Park Jimin.

DPPAKCVBMMNNN HES SO PRETTY. HELP. FOCUS.

Over on Twix, a quietly renowned translator named Colin delivers his version of lyric translations for nearly all BTS songs. He just posted his translations of MUSE and boy..🫠...be sure to read them as they are well thought out and nuanced. It's just beautiful the way he seeks to find the most fitting word to convey a feeling. His translation made me realize that people been sleeping on Rebirth. Not only streaming wise, it's kinda lagging behind, but lyrics wise as well.

It's been my clear favorite since I first heard it. It reminds me of church music, say I the atheist. But it's the way that choirs can move your soul with those soaring compositions and exalted professions of love for the glorious in a harmonious coming together of voices. It's just so beautiful. I can hear you screaming: THERE’S AN ACTUAL CHOIR SINGING ALONG, OH, so that might just be it, Sherlock 🧐 ok ok. Noted.

It's also that line: "With you. I will be your reason, reason." He's singing his promise, his praise.

Rebirth is Jimin laying his love at the altar, ready to be either burned or scorned or blessed. In any case, he's no longer hiding. He's professing. He's been through utter despair, and there was his love, arm outstretched. He wants to be as one.

Furthermore, i think Rebirth is kind of a coda to the closing song of FACE: Letter.

If Letter is a quiet confession, whispered from one lover's lips to the other's ear, warm breath tickling his hair, then Rebirth is Brat.

Rebirth is one hell of an opening song. Bold and bravely confident, utterly romantic in the meeting your lover at dawn kinda way. But the irony lies in that it would be an amazing closing song of an album. The way the choir lingers and the music resonates long after the song has ended. The clapping! It screams, ending concert song, and the audience is absolutely weeping, hugging their seat mates, mascara running, chimmy headband drooping.

There's probably a technical explanation for why, but I'm telling you, a closing song. Because once Showtime (interlude) hits, we're in a totally new environment audibly and emotionally. Yet it had to be the intro because it's the seed that was planted in FACE.

Rebirth is this Jimin:

"Both he and the object of his affection have feelings for each other." It's mutual. Equal. I am you, you are me much?!

"So that I can sing as we lock eyes." Insert TTU 'But I still want you.' gif here

"...implying that the other person won't let him remain hidden."

'In my despair, you act as light. Like the sun's radiant vibe, You pass by me tenderly.'

The sun is tenderly beckoning him with its warmth, to finally step into the light. We all know who has been there for Jimin throughout 2022/2023, encouraging him both publicly with his simping and privately.

Jimin told Namjoon in MMM that JK diligently helped him, assisting him when he spent two months re-training his voice for longevity.

I don't want to read more into the lines of a song that could also be totally make-believe, but it's Jimin were talking about. A man who is willing to break down himself, piece by piece, to rebuild himself back stronger, more confident, and with his eye firmly set towards the future. Do we think he wouldn't speak in these exalted terms about his good love? Have you heard Letter!?!

*DEEEP SIGH*

No wonder Jimin wants to give pay back in bedtime cuddles. 🙂‍↕️

Rebirth is so confident, and it's not only the lyrics mind you. It's also the way he sings notes we haven't heard him sing this brazenly before. I will scream into the void once he performs this live someday. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!

Stream Muse and Rebirth for Real Love.

TLDR: Jimin is GOAT, author a simp.

[hitomisuzuya]

Yandere! Scaramouche x fem!reader. College AU (by request of sorts from @that-one-gay-writer1227. They really said they really liked College AU Scara) Smut. Halloween themed. Chase in the woods. Obsessive behavior. Possessive!Scaramouche. Choking. Praise. Degradation. Outdoor sex at night. I think I covered it all.

Tagging @xxventiswindblumexx cause smut soulmate <3

When you asked him to go to the haunted attraction the campus set up every year for Halloween with you, he'd told you it was stupid. He asked you what the point was. You said the idea was to have fun and get scared. He'd been all set to shut you down and spend the night watching horror movies with you.

Until you said that Halloween was your favorite holiday.

Now Scaramouche couldn't say no.

So here he was, standing in line with you and one of your friends, who came with her boyfriend from the campus choir class. At least that was what you told him. He didn't expect the gaggle of geese that followed you around the equestrian facility to come along. Uninvited.

Scaramouche had a glare reserved for each one of them. They were intruding on his time with you. He even considered paying off the stupid brats so they would leave. Your friend and her boyfriend were going to leave you alone since this was a date for them too.

Putting arm around you, he pulled you against him, inhaling your scent. He'd taken great care in making sure your clothes smelt like him, unmistakable to anyone breathing near you. He sprayed your perfume on your clothes to, mingling the two scents together. You even smelt faintly of *sweet fresh hay.

Even making sure it smelt faintly like cigarettes, weed and leather. It was a further sign of possessive dominance.

All scents you loved and made you feel comfortable. Damn it, he really does love you.

It started off exactly like he knew he it would. People jumping out and trying to scaring everyone. Screaming people and shrill laughing. Scaramouche swore he thought his ears were going to bleed. Until he watched how you were acting.

You having fun, but not in the way everyone else was. No, you were having fun in a different way. A way that captivated him. And excited him.

Scaramouche watched you approach someone who was overacting. He thought he recognized from some classes or another but he couldn't be sure. He was dressed as the stereotypical chainsaw welding horror movie characters. It was easy to see where they got the inspiration for the costume, seeing as how he watched a few movies from the franchise with you. You were picky about your slasher movies. You preferred more supernatural horror than anything.

You calmly approached what's his name, smiling somewhat at him, completely unfazed by him being in character.

He loved that you seemed so fearless and unfazed. Of course, why would you be easily rattled? You navigated a very hateful creature who outweighed out by a thousand pounds at least around a course of jumps with more than five or six feet in height. He'd never seen anything like it before. Your posture always perfect and straight, your eyes focused ahead but around you at the same time, looking for anything that might disrupt you. The tedious multitasking almost seemed unreal to him everytime he watched. Watched more often than not with jealousy. Jealousy that you weren't riding him instead.

Scaramouche enjoyed seeing you act this way. But here is where it got unfortunate for the other boy. He knew no one was supposed to touch anyone during this. But Scaramouche still felt threatened. No one was allowed to touch you. Ever. Only he was allowed. Platonic hugs with your friends who were girls were the only thing acceptable to him.

So when Scaramouche felt that this poor unfortunate fellow got too close to you, his life flashed before his eyes. He couldn't decide who scared him more. Not only was he unnerved by your reaction to him, but Scaramouche was staring into his eyes with a look that he had never seen before.

One that made his blood run cold. It was a dark, possessive look, one with cold rationality. It said if you even think about touching what's mine, I will end you.

Scaramouche put his hands on your shoulders to further push his point. Mine. Not yours. All mine.

He suddenly felt an interesting reaction that quivered through your body. He felt it vibrate against his fingers like electricity. Scaramouche had startled you. And you smiled, like you were aroused.

He had to be sure. Scaramouche could read your body like a book. But he wanted to test his theory. His fingers itched to. He waited for you to relax and continue passing everyone trying to scare you by, giving them a wave or reminding some of them that a paper was due in a few days. There was that disgusting consideration for other people showing again. Why were you like that? He didn't understand.

Scaramouche capitalized on your letting your guard down when you came to a room with a wooden owl on the table. "Aww, look at the cute owl!" The girl jumped out from under the table. You screamed, blushing embarrassed but you were only startled.

Not scared.

"Boo," he whispered in your ear, suddenly wrapping his arms around you. You jumped, giggling. Since it was dark, the air hanging cloudy from a fog machine and flashing lights, Scaramouche groped you discreetly, making you whimper. "You are getting off on me scaring you, aren't you," he whispered, his fingers brushing against one of your nipples for a moment before anyone noticed.

Why not wind you up more? Make you cave a little faster before he fucked you tonight.

Rinse and repeat until you reached the end of the of the maze in the woods. He scared you a little more each time. You were wet by the time you said goodnight to everyone and started to walk back to the dorms with him.

"You wanna try something that I think you'll like, and one I will enjoy?" He poised the question with anticipation.

"Oh? What do you have in mind?" You replied, feeling suspicious. Scaramouche had made it evident that he was only tolerating tonight because you enjoyed Halloween. So why wasn't he grumbling about how long it took or how stupid it had been?

"Let's have some fun. Why don't I chase my little kitten through the woods and catch you. I'm sure you know where this is headed, now get moving. I'm not giving you a headstart," laughing as he tried to grab your hair.

You giggled and yelped, darting around him and running into the woods.

"Here kitty, kitty, I'm coming for you. Your body looks extra soft today, pliable in my hands," Scaramouche called out when he saw you cut a hard left, looking over your shoulder for a moment to see how far behind you he was. Your heart was pounding. The more he called out to you into the night, saying he was getting closer made you feel even wetter. But you weren't going to make it easy for him.

And Scaramouche didn't want you to either. He wanted you to run fast. He knew you were fast. You had to be to deal with horses, especially thinking fast. Which is what you did.

You danced away from him with ease, making it feel impossible for him to reach you. And it turned him on. "Run, run, slut. My hands are going to wrap around your pretty throat when I catch you."

When you showed one second of fatigue, your ankle rolled out from under you, making you trip. You tried to scramble to your feet but you just weren't fast enough. Or maybe you wanted to be caught.

"Gotcha!" Scaramouche exclaimed, laughing as he grabbed your ankle, dragging you back down onto the ground. Pinning you down, he put a knee between your legs.

You mewled, your body immediately going limp underneath him. "Ha! You were always the best at submitting to me in every way," he rubbed his knee roughly between your legs, feeling your arousal dampening against your pants onto his knee. "I knew you were getting off on me scaring you. You are absolutely wet and no doubt throbbing for me."

Scaramouche pressed a thumb down on your windpipe, smirking when you struggled to moan as the air was cut off from your lungs gradually. He unbuttoned your pants and thrust two fingers inside of you. "You really are a slut for me! I don't have to prepare you. Your pussy is going to swallow my cock well, you are that wet."

You moaned, grinding desperately into his fingers. He held your legs open when you tried to close them around his arm for more friction. Your fingernails clawed at his arm, your body twitching from harsh stimulation.

Scaramouche took his thumb from your windpipe, his hand tearing your shirt and your bra as he did away with your pants and your panties. He shivered when he saw just how wet you were. Your slick was shining wet in the moonlight. He licked his lips.

"Go on, kitten! Tell them all who pleases you like this! And you'd better call me Master, slut. I own everything about you!" He glared down at you, his eyes hazy with a feral lust.

You cried out in pleasure when Scaramouche roughly thrust inside of you, snapping his hips to bottom out against your cervix. "Go on! Say it! Tell them who is fucking you dumb! Did I stutter, slut?!"

AH! AH! It's you, Master! It's you, Scaramouche!" You cried out, digging your fingernails into his back.

Grunting, he moaned huskily in your ear, his pace ruthless and rough. His fingers dug into your hips. Each thrust practically made you see stars. He kissed you roughly, growling as he licked inside of your mouth, curling his tongue around yours.

Scaramouche grinded his teeth harshly against your lower lip as he reluctantly pulled away. Panting, he squeezed your throat, making your body jolt with with pleasure.

His thrusts remained frenzied, but they turned sloppy the more your walls clamped around his cock. The more he squeezed the tighter you felt. Hissing in pain, he pried one of your hands from his back. He put it against your clit. "Rub yourself while I cum inside of you," he ordered, his eyes transfixed on his cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your fingers circling your clit desperately trying to chase the high you felt building up in your core.

"Fuck, I am cumming.." Scaramouche babbled, releasing his hold on your throat. His cock twitched inside of you. You gasped when your felt his cum spill inside of you. The feeling of him cumming and rubbing your clit ushered in your orgasm.

Snatching your hand, he licked your fingers, fucking you through your orgasm. When he was satisfied, he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck. You stroked his hair to calm him down.

"You tore my shirt and broke my bra," you giggled, making him scoff against your neck as he nuzzled his cheek against your jaw.

"So what? You threw your jacket over there," he pointed in the direction where it lay a few feet away without picking his head up.. "I would've taken off your jacket myself. I don't want any assholes leering at what's mine. You belong to me, remember."

"Of course, dear. That fact will never change," you replied, rubbing your fingers against his scalp.

Scaramouche laughed softly, lifting your body so he hold you against him, his fingers stroking behind your ear. "Damn right it won't."

*fresh hay smells really good.

[usamifriends]

IDOLiSH7 Anime vs Game Comparisons

First Beat - Episode 1

Banri & Tsumugi’s first interaction

Takanashi Productions was in charge of a few other talents before: models, dancers, choir. But i7 is their first boy idol group.

Banri calls the i7 boys as a Japanese multi-course bento (Kaiseki Bento). Tsumugi is confused in both the anime and game, but we don’t get an explanation for why he calls them this in the anime.

It’s actually Banri’s temporary group name 🤣 He says the it’s a name filled with the agency’s hopes and dreams!

Basketball Game

There’s more dialogue in the game that shows us more of their personalities and dynamics. But we’ll learn that eventually~

Sogo, Riku, Nagi team is disorganized. Nagi does what he wants. Riku gets distracted by Nagi. Sogo tries to keep things under control.

Tamaki, Mitsuki, Iori team is super competitive. Tamaki and Mitsuki says, “I hate losing!”, while Iori says, “My life has no room for defeat”.

Unlike in the anime, we actually see parts that show that they’re unfamiliar with each other. Mitsuki and Iori were taken aback at Tamaki’s nicknames. Sogo got a bit weirded out by Nagi’s monologues. They don’t feel like they’ve known each other for a long time like Tsumugi observed (probably bc she was watching from farther away).

Auditions! We get to see Tsumugi’s reactions to this in the game.

Iori is good at singing and dancing. He makes it look effortless!

Yamato is great at expressing things both in singing and dancing. It’s interesting because he’s always repressing his feelings.

Mitsuki has great energy. He brings life to the room.

Tamaki is great at dancing and is athletic.

Sogou is an all-rounder, ready for a professional debut.

Nagi has the elegance of a Prince but also a touch of sensuality to him. On top of that, he’s handsome! A girl’s ideal type.

Riku!! He stumbles on his introduction 😆 He’s really, really good at singing!!

The anime moves these comments to Tsumugi’s report to Takanashi papa. I like this change because we’re not just watching Tsumugi listen and watch the boys as they perform one by one.

When telling the boys about the audition results:

I like the little detail when Tsumugi goes, “Iori-kun… Iori-san.” Iori can be quite intimidating when you first meet him. Although he has a very sharp tongue, he doesn’t come off as some high school brat; he speaks really formally and is really serious about the task on hand, so it’s hard to treat him like a younger person. He has an aura that commands respect.

Side Story I

This side story is from Riku’s POV. We start from Riku walking over to Takanashi Productions to sign the contract. He was calling his mom! He tells him mom about how he won’t be like “that person” (Tenn) who abandoned his family. He calls Tenn “that person” because he doesn’t want to call him “Tenn-nii” anymore, but his mom points out how he called Tenn “Tenn-nii” just yesterday 😂😂 And then he just fully returns to calling Tenn, “Tenn-nii”. He also promised his mom that he will buy her something amazing once he gets famous 🥺❤️

Riku explains that he wants be an idol because he got curious about the job that convinced Tenn to abandon his family (Gon, is that you?)

We see Riku’s first impressions of the members. His interactions show more of his carefree, no sensor, shameless self (ily Riku), which is quite different to the good boy who works hard that we see from Tsumugi’s POV in Part 1, Ch. 1.

Riku -> Nagi: “Wow, this person has a beautiful face unlike any I’ve ever seen! Is he Japanese? …Maybe a foreigner? He face looks as pretty as a sculpture… He seems like a cool and elegant person. He must be a calm person.” (🤭). Riku says Nagi looks 25. Nagi replies that he’s nineteen in English. Riku didn’t understand but just assumed Nagi is younger than him. Iori was speechless. Mitsuki explains that nineteen = 19. Later, Riku introduces Nagi and the Izumi brothers to Sogou and Tamaki. He says the Izumi’s brothers ages normally in Japanese but chooses to use English to say nineteen for Nagi 😂😂 (He’s adorable)

Riku -> Izumi brothers: “Looks like a bright younger brother and a somewhat cold older brother. They’re probably both younger than me?” After making this assumption, he immediately treats them like younger people. He calls Iori “Iori-kun” and Mitsuki “Mitsuki-kun”. Iori immediately criticizes him, but Riku pays him no mind.🙂‍↕️😂 Mitsuki explains that he’s the older brother and that he’s probably older than Riku as he is 21. Riku…. Asks if that’s his shoe size. 😭😭😭😭😭 Mitsuki shouts, “That’s my age! And I’m not that small!!”. Riku is not bothered at all. He just goes “Oh ok!” Then, he POINTS HIS FINGER at Iori and asks, “Then what about this kid over here?” 😂 Iori says, “Don’t point your fingers at other people.” (Is this why they chose NOT to be in Riku’s team? 😂)

Riku -> Sogou: He looks like a nice person!

Riku -> Tamaki: This guy looks like a punk (punk with a cat ears hoodie? Rikuuuu 😂😂)

No first impression for Yamato :(

Side Story 2:

Most of this side story actually makes it into the anime! It’s the part with Sogou and Yamato buying drinks and the rest of the five’s reaction to the auditions.

We get to see a bit more in the game because we get to hear the boys’ thoughts. One of my favorite parts is seeing Iori’s more dangerous side 😌

He calls Takanashi papa a “smug, opportunistic old man”

And threatens to file a complaint, drag Takanashi Production’s reputation down, and drive Takanashi papa to bankruptcy if Mitsuki doesn’t make it in.

[ruanbaijie]

During the Republican Era, Shen Zhiheng, a member of the Tianjin gentry who happened to be a vampire, offended the Japanese and became the target of an assassination attempt. He was saved by a blind young lady, Mi Lan, and his best friend Situ Weilian. When he went to repay Mi Lan for saving him, he discovered the terrible family situation that Mi Lan was in, and so began to pay more attention to her. Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng’s plan to take revenge on Li Yingliang, the mastermind behind his assassination, fell short of success thanks to Li Yingliang’s Japanese superior, raising suspicions about his identity. Since then, Li Yingliang and the Japanese were in hot pursuit of Shen Zhiheng, determined to dig out the truth about his secret.

Please do not repost this anywhere else or retranslate it!

MAIN DIRECTORY ☾ READ ON AO3 ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

That very day, outside the chapel, Mi Lan got her wish and met Shen Zhiheng.

Shen Zhiheng arrived in a hurry, asking the moment he alighted from the car and saw Mi Lan, “What’s the matter?”

There was anxiousness in his voice, and Mi Lan immediately suspected that she had given him a fright. When it came to Shen Zhiheng, she “treasured” him a lot, as if she had saved him once, and he was now hers. Or at least, she owned a small share of his person. Ever since she was a child, it always felt as if she was just temporarily staying in this world, with nothing to her name, and could leave whenever she wanted to. Shen Zhiheng was the one who gave her a small connection to this world. To a certain extent, Shen Zhiheng himself seemed like her private property.

She smiled softly at Shen Zhiheng, replying, “I’m fine. It’s not about me.”

Shen Zhiheng measured her, noticing that there were no new wounds on her face and hands, and that her complexion was not that bad. It was only then when he guided her into the car.

“If it’s not about you, then who is it about?”

“It’s Li-shushu,” she replied. “The one we met at the entrance of Victoria Hospital.”

Shen Zhiheng stared at her suspiciously, “What… about him?”

 If Mi Lan could see, that suspicion in Shen Zhiheng’s eyes would have probably made her heart run cold. It was blatant suspicion, accompanied by blatant scrutiny, as if she were a slowly unravelling mystery in the midst of revealing its true face one layer by one layer.

Her blind eyes protected her at this moment, and she answered honestly, “He came to find me, asking me to pass a message to you. He said that he wants to reconcile with you, and even wants me to mediate.”

“Then how do you intend to mediate?”

“I’m only passing his message, I won’t mediate.”

“Why are you doing as he asks? That brat is not a good person.”

“He’ll ultimately find someone else to pass you his message. Instead of someone else, it might as well be me. At least, I won’t be in cahoots with him and lie to you.”

“This is not something you should be interfering in.”

Mi Lan grew silent.

Shen Zhiheng spoke again, an undercurrent of anger faint in his voice, “You’re right, he’ll ultimately find someone else to pass me his message. Even if it’s not you, it’ll be someone else. But you were willing to do it for me, and so he now knows that both of us still remain in contact with each other. He’ll also know that your opinions and words matter to me, and he’ll even be able to find out that you were the one who saved me that night! Do you believe or not that his eyes and ears are hiding outside right now? Do you believe or not that he’ll continue coming to you in the future, and even use you to threaten me?”

Mi Lan froze. She had never considered what Shen Zhiheng had just said.

“I won’t let him use me to threaten you,” she said. “I won’t go for choir classes in the future. I’ll hide at home and refuse to leave. He wouldn’t dare to barge into my house to find me.”

Shen Zhiheng sighed. “I arranged the choir classes for you with the hope that you could come out and see the world, make some friends, and live well. In the future, when you leave your family, you can also pass your own days happily.”

“I know,” Mi Lan replied softly. “But, in the past, I hid in the house because I had nowhere else to go. Now, I’ll hide in my house because I want to help you. Both cases are similar because I’m hiding at home, but they’re different because my feelings are different. I’m willing.”

“Do you still remember my phone number?”

“Yes, you gave it to me in the past.”

“If there’s a need, find a way to call me. If it’s not convenient at home, then find a random store. A café or a grocery store. As long as it’s a place that has a telephone installed, you can borrow it, just give them some money. The money that I gave you after you left the hospital, have you kept it well?”

“Yes.”

Shen Zhiheng extended his hand to ruffle her hair. He really wanted to save her, but her father was General Mi, and if he were to really abduct her and flee, General Mi would be humiliated and would definitely not spare him. Besides, after abducting her and fleeing, what next? Would he set up a residence and support her like a mistress [1] , letting her live alone? Or would he keep her by his side? This young lady seemed to have a third eye. If he kept her by his side, it wouldn’t take her a few months to discover all of his secrets.

Shen Zhiheng suddenly felt a twinge of regret. He should not have been so friendly with her these few days. His intentions were good, but the outcome might end up harming her. He was destined to be a harbinger of misfortune and destruction for his entire life. That he could get to know a dumb, happy-go-lucky Situ Weilian was already an unexpected joy, he should have been satisfied with that.

“Run along. Cry as you go back, pretend that I just scolded you.”

Understanding what he meant, Mi Lan pushed the car door open and fumbled out herself. Just as the wind hit her face, she opened her mouth and lowered her head, starting to heave in huge sobs. As she walked alone to the chapel, she even specifically used her sleeve to wipe her eyes. Shen Zhiheng watched her enter the chapel in amazement, because he realised that Mi Lan was both beautiful and intelligent, understanding him in a second and not needing any further explanation, as if she were his close friend who could implicitly understand his thoughts and feelings [2] .

However, Mi Lan did not make good on her promise. The afternoon of the second day, she went to the chapel again.

Li Yingliang found a chance to get a hold of her outside the chapel. In a daze, she froze, and spoke with her head lowered, “Li-shushu, don’t come and find me anymore. I can’t help you.”

Li Yingliang asked her, “Did you pass my message to Shen Zhiheng?”

Mi Lan’s face was ashen. “Mr. Shen is not happy.” She sobbed, “He said I was a busybody and scolded me.”

Extending her walking cane, she found where Li Yingliang was standing, and looped around him in a hurry to return to the little classroom where her choir class was held. 

Then, starting from the third day, she no longer left the house. Li Yingliang did not know just how Shen Zhiheng had scolded her, he only felt that this Young Mistress Mi had suffered a terrible blow. He could not get over this line of thought. This Young Mistress Mi had always lived a miserable life, and had finally gotten the chance to leave her house everyday to go to the choir and have some fun, but this had all been ruined by him, who had not gained anything out of the process either. If he had known earlier that she did not have much say with Shen Zhiheng, he would not have approached her.

Li Yingliang gave up with Mi Lan, and decided to try to find a new path. When it came to Shen Zhiheng, the closer he got to him, the harder it was for him to disentangle himself from him. All day long, he would be brooding over this demon surnamed Shen.

Unexpectedly, one afternoon, Shen Zhiheng invited himself, showing up on initiative at the main gates of his Development Committee.

Hearing that Shen Zhiheng had come, Li Yingliang could not believe it at first. Shen Zhiheng was always very cautious and rarely left the concession zone. He had no reason to take the risk and run over to where he was; what difference did this have from walking straight into a trap?

It was only when he went to take a look and welcome him that he realised that Shen Zhiheng had not gone insane. This time, he had brought with him some twenty to thirty people, and their cars, parked outside the Development Committee, made up a huge contingent. The backseat window of the car in the lead opened, and Shen Zhiheng himself hung his elbow outside the window, tilting his head and looking up. As a pair of glasses, tinted the colour of smoky quartz, sat on his nose bridge, no one knew exactly what he was looking at. 

Li Yingliang revealed a smile in advance, welcoming loudly, “Mr. Shen, what a rare guest.”

Shen Zhiheng raised his hand to remove his glasses, nodding at him, “Chairman Li.”

Li Yingliang looked at him with a smile. His smile was so wide that his eyebrows were curved, the corners of his lips were upturned, and his teeth were revealed. There was nothing but joy on his face. Judging by his smile that was so full of delight, Shen Zhiheng figured that this would be followed by a round of pleasantries, and so he waited quietly, intending to let him speak his fill before he started talking himself. After all, he knew that in negotiations, striking first did not necessarily give one the upper hand.

He thought this way, and so too did Li Yingliang, so the two of them stared at each other. Li Yingliang stood still in the cold wind, smiling till his front teeth were freezing, yet still not knowing why Shen Zhiheng kept staring at him without saying a word. Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng was equally clueless, and began to suspect that this smile of Li Yingliang’s had become frozen on his face because of the freezing wind.

In the end, Li Yingliang’s smile slowly faded, and neither could Shen Zhiheng bear with it any longer, “Why don’t you invite me in to have a seat?”

Li Yingliang opened the door of the car, his attitude still as respectful as before, “I couldn’t ask for more. Please, Mr. Shen.”

Shen Zhiheng extended a hand towards the driver in the front, who understood and immediately pulled out a Browning pistol from under the seat and handed it to him. He tucked the pistol into his coat, and then got out of the car.

“Chairman Li, this time, I’ve come prepared. If you still dare to pull any tricks inside, I’ll kill you.”

Li Yingliang laughed loudly, “Based on Mr. Shen’s abilities, do you still need a gun to kill me?”

Then, he gestured towards the gate, “Please.”

Shen Zhiheng strode in as Li Yingliang guided him to his office. Meanwhile, Li Guisheng led a group of men to hide in ambush outside the windows. If anything happened in the room, they would immediately smash the windows and barge in. Even so, after Li Yingliang closed the door, his heart still slowly rose to his throat.

Shen Zhiheng walked one round around his office. Since he was here, he might as well take a look at the headquarters of this Chinese traitor.

Li Yingliang personally poured a cup of hot tea and placed it on the coffee table, saying, “Mr. Shen, please have a seat. I’m truly very pleasantly surprised that you’ve taken the time to come today. I was of the impression that Mr. Shen hated me, and we would never have the chance to resolve our misunderstandings and shake hands and speak in peace.”

Shen Zhiheng turned around in front of the large desk, facing Li Yingliang, “Whether we make peace or not, that’s something that’s between you and me. You should not have urged Young Mistress Mi to be a middle-man. If General Mi found out about this, how do you think he would react?”

Li Yingliang replied, “Mr. Shen wouldn’t complain about me to General Mi, would you?” Then, he grinned, “But, even if General Mi found out about this, I would have an explanation for him. After all, Mr. Shen’s and Young Mistress Mi’s relationship is a little… how do I put it? Haha, not that normal!”

At this point, he stared directly at Shen Zhiheng, “Mr. Shen, it’s rare for us to get the chance to have a peaceful conversation like this. I once dealt you a heavy blow, and neither did you spare me. That you didn’t die is proof of your good fortune, that I didn’t die is also proof of my good fortune. Since the heavens have arranged it such that you and I are both alive to stand here today to speak to one another, I think that we should accept and treasure this chance. I know you look down on me. That’s okay. Many people look down on me, you’re not the only one. You’ve never pointed at my nose and scolded me before, that’s already proof of you giving me face. Recently, you’ve also seen my attitude; I was really trying every method to get close to you, to mend ties with you, but you never gave me the chance. So, I had no choice but to try anything in desperation and seek out Young Mistress Mi. I know that you give her face, and you owe her a favour. But you can rest assured that I’ve never threatened or scared her. What’s the point of me scaring a young lady? I just asked her to help me pass you a message. But it seems like you didn’t give her face. These few days, Young Mistress Mi has not appeared in public at all.”

Shen Zhiheng said, “You’ve gotten it the wrong way round. It’s not that I owe her a favour, she is the one who owes me a favour. Without me, she would have died in the hospital last month.”

Li Yingliang raised his head and thought, and then smiled, “Yes, yes, you have a point. If you hadn’t been there to take care of her, perhaps she really would have died of her illness. And that night, if she hadn’t been there to save you, you probably would still be able to live.” He waved his hands towards Shen Zhiheng, “Don’t be mistaken, I’m being frank here, I mean you absolutely no ill intention.”

Shen Zhiheng could hear through it, Li Yingliang was testing him. This rascal was not stupid. Everything he said was accurate, yet, Shen Zhiheng was just the type of person who was not afraid of being tested.

Meeting his gaze, Li Yingliang took a few tentative steps in his direction. “Mr. Shen, can you tell me, how on earth did you… why are you…”

For a moment, he did not know how to phrase his question. “What I mean is… logically speaking, you definitely died without a doubt. But after disappearing for a month, you reappeared, having not died at all. How?”

Shen Zhiheng shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m truly extremely curious.”

Shen Zhiheng suddenly smiled. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes! Can you tell me?”

Shen Zhiheng sighed, “Then you must keep it a secret for me.”

“Of course!”

“I don’t trust you, you must swear on your life.”

Li Yingliang raised his hand and straightened three fingers, “I, Li Yingliang, swear that whatever Mr. Shen tells me today, I will keep it a secret until the end. If I go back on my word, I will be punished by the heavens and get struck by lightning!”

Shen Zhiheng raised a finger and pointed at him, “You will also die without descendants and be sent to the eighteenth level of hell when you die, never to reincarnate for eternity.”

Li Yingliang really used all of his patience on Shen Zhiheng. “Okay, okay, I’ll die without descendants and be sent to the eighteenth level of hell, never to reincarnate for eternity.”

Shen Zhiheng turned his head to glance at the windows, then walked towards Li Yingliang. Li Yingliang suspected that he could sense the people waiting in ambush outside the windows. Seeing him approach him closer and closer, Li Yingliang’s calves seemed to cramp a little. But if he turned around and ran now, everything he had done these past few days would go down the drain.

Shen Zhiheng stopped in front of him. Because he was taller than him by half a head, Li Yingliang pretty much just fell into his shadow. Shen Zhiheng lowered, moving to the side of his ear, and said in a low voice, “Actually, I’m a demon.”

Then, he straightened his body, stared at Li Yingliang, and nodded his head once with certainty. “A demon.”

Li Yingliang was tongue-tied. “No–Mr. Shen, can you stop joking around with me? I’ve even already sworn on my life, and yet you’re telling me now that you’re a demon. You’re not being serious.”

Shen Zhiheng said seriously, from the bottom of his heart, “I’m really a demon. If you don’t believe me, come to my house tonight, I’ll reveal my true form to you.”

“That I don’t dare.”

“What’s there to be scared of, it’s not like I can eat you.”

Upon saying that, he could not help but swallow his saliva. He was due for a meal tonight, and so now, the second he smelled the breath of a live person, his hunger would grow. Li Yingliang glanced at the way his Adam’s apple moved up and down, and immediately felt his hairs standing. Until now, he did not believe a single word of what Shen Zhiheng said. Perhaps, demons really existed in this world, but Shen Zhiheng was definitely not something as simple as a demon.

His mouth dry, he swallowed a mouthful of saliva, “Then, what’s your true form?”

“I’ve been human for so long, I can’t remember. If you’re interested, why don’t you just see for yourself?”

Shen Zhiheng’s tone was lively, and so Li Yingliang also put on a false smile, “But to tell you the truth, I really feel like you want to eat me.”

Shen Zhiheng extended a hand and patted his shoulder. “It’s good that Chairman Li is so cautious. It’s better to be safe than sorry. But Chairman Li can rest assured, if you just concern yourself with rising through the ranks, while I just concern myself with making money, both of us minding our own business, then I wouldn’t eat you. But if you really can’t contain your curiosity and insist on playing tricks on me, then don’t blame me for a moment’s rashness.”

At this point, he lowered his voice, “Chairman Li, let me tell you, what person I am isn’t important; what’s important is whether you can live well or not.”

Li Yingliang raised his head to look at him, “So, you came here today to warn me.”

Shen Zhiheng shook his head continuously. “I’m not that kind. I never give any warnings before doing things. Wouldn’t you be wary once I give you a warning? I’m not that stupid.”

As he said this, his voice bore traces of anger as he smiled, and it was fairly gentle and kind, as if he were nagging at his little brother about the housework. Li Yingliang’s character was already quite volatile; who knew that Shen Zhiheng was actually one level above him.

Seeing Shen Zhiheng retrieve that pair of tinted glasses from his pocket, as if he was about to leave, he said in a hurry, “Can I invite you again for dinner? It just happens that it’s no longer early now, it’s just the right time.”

Shen Zhiheng put on his glasses. “I don’t eat food, I eat people.”

Then, he raised his hand and pulled Li Yingliang by his shoulder, making him turn around. With his arm draped across his shoulders, he pushed the door open, saying, “I’ll trouble you to see me out.”

The force he exerted was startlingly large, and Li Yingliang could not help but walk forward. “Mr. Shen, I feel that we should continue talking. The Japanese really want to be friends with you. I, too, personally–”

“Shut up!”, Shen Zhiheng suddenly turned towards him and roared.

With his abrupt change in demeanour, even though Li Yingliang could not see his eyes, he could see his ferocious expression, like he had lost his temper. Previously, he had been babbling pleasantly and amicably, and his temper had been better than anyone else’s. Li Yingliang had not thought that he would roar in anger without any warning. Stepping out of the doors of the committee, he watched agape as Shen Zhiheng slid into his car and left.

Li Guisheng ran up from behind him, muttering angrily, “Sir, he actually dared to yell at you.”

Li Yingliang glared. “Is it strange that he yelled at me? He even dares to kill me!”

Leaving the Japanese concession zone, Shen Zhiheng went straight to Keats Hospital.

Every alternate day, Situ Weilian would bring blood for him. And every two days, just before having his meal, he would be starving. At this time, if he was alone in a quiet place and did not get agitated by anything, nothing much would happen. But if he was suffering from starvation and a warm, fragrant live human was put in front of him, the flames of hunger would burn him to madness.

Earlier, Li Yingliang’s endless chatter had made him see red. He had tried to endure it, but in the end, he had still snapped, and had shut the bastard up with a single roar.

Seeing Shen Zhiheng’s car from inside the hospital, Situ Weilian immediately grabbed his canvas satchel and ran out, two heavy glass bottles knocking against each other in it. He opened the car door and looked at Shen Zhiheng, and as if he could read Shen Zhiheng’s mind, he placed the satchel in the car.

“You go first, I’ll come and find you tonight!”

Shen Zhiheng only glanced once at him, before instructing the driver to drive off. Arriving home a short while later, he held the canvas satchel and raced up the stairs, dashing into his bedroom.

Taking deep gulps, he drained the two large bottles of icy cold blood.

Then, he went limp in satisfaction and bliss. In the middle of his daze, he faintly felt a twinge of sorrow. He knew that he was deteriorating at an increasing rate. Perhaps, one day, he would lose his wisdom, his thoughts, his speech, leaving behind only a bloodthirsty hunger.

But he had not been born a monster. When he was fourteen, he had passed the first examination to be an official, and he had once been a talented youth with a bright future.

It was a pity that he had been a human only until the age of fourteen.

After getting off work, Situ Weilian went straight to the Shen mansion. When he entered, Shen Zhiheng had just regained his consciousness, coming down the stairs to welcome him. Situ Weilian brought the cold in with him as he stood in the building, looking around. He saw that Shen Zhiheng had evidently just taken a bath, and was now adjusting the collar of his changpao as he descended the stairs.

Looking down, Shen Zhiheng nodded and asked, “Have you had your dinner?”

“No, I ran over as soon as I got off work.”

Shen Zhiheng lifted a hand and pointed at the telephone on the wall beside the door. Situ Weilian understood. He turned around to grab the telephone, giving the nearby restaurant a call and ordering a table of dishes.

Putting down the phone, he saw that Shen Zhiheng had already walked to the sofa and was seated down there. He moved over, asking, “You were hungry in the afternoon?”

Shen Zhiheng was busy finding his cigar and a matchstick. “I was hungry.”

Situ Weilian ruffled his curly hair with a hand. “You got hungry early?”

Shen Zhiheng lit his cigar, inhaling deeply. “Weilian, one day, if, because of my hunger, I end up attacking a live person, what would you do?”

Situ Weilian felt that he was saying this a little decorously and stiffly. He smiled at once, “What would I do? What else could I do? Of course I would think of a way to find you food!”

“You won’t be afraid of me?”

Situ Weilian immediately shook his head. “You won’t suck my blood, I trust you.”

Shen Zhiheng laughed. “I don’t even trust myself, on what basis do you trust me?”

“Because we’re good friends, we care for each other [3] .”

Shen Zhiheng suddenly changed the topic, “Do you have enough money?”

“What? Are you offering me financial assistance?”

“I can offer you financial assistance, but you must help me think of an idea.”

“Go ahead!”

“When Mi Lan is at home, she can’t pass her days well. I arranged it such that she could attend choir lessons everyday and relax, but because Li Yingliang found out about our relationship and wanted to target her, it’s no longer convenient for her to leave the house. I’m very worried that she’ll get bored at home, and that she’ll also get abused by her mother.”

Situ Weilian slouched on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. After staying silent for some time, he slapped his thigh. “Why don’t you go and tell Mrs. Mi that if she beats her daughter again, you’ll give her a taste of how formidable you are!”

“Nonsense, what do you mean taste? Do I give her a beating as well?”

Situ Weilian revealed a cunning smile. “Who said anything about beating her? Isn’t it enough to just give her a fright?”

Shen Zhiheng thought, I’ve done nothing much today, but I’ve just been scaring people. I scared Li Yingliang this afternoon, and now could it be that I’ll have to go and scare Mrs. Mi?

Situ Weilian began animatedly narrating his ingenious plan, and the more he listened, the deeper Shen Zhiheng’s frown grew.

“No way, no way. That’s a child’s game. I can’t do that.”

“Do it or not, it’s up to you. In any case, I’m not friends with Mi Lan. If her mother beats her child, I’m not the one who feels the pain.”

Shen Zhiheng laughed bitterly, still feeling that this plan of Situ Weilian’s was like a child’s prank and he was simply too embarrassed to carry it out.

Situ Weilian added on, mumbling, “Actually, you’re treating the symptoms, but not the cause. As long as she still stays in that house, you won’t be able to save her.”

“I’m simply repaying a favour,” Shen Zhiheng said.

“Without her, you won’t die. If you could die, you would have died a long time ago.”

Shen Zhiheng stared at the burning end of the cigar, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with him.

The restaurant waiter sent the dishes over and Situ Weilian had a huge feast. Full and tired, he stayed the night at the Shen mansion. At dawn, he was pushed awake by Shen Zhiheng. Then, as if they were playing around, the two of them got to work.

As they were preparing, Shen Zhiheng still felt fairly embarrassed. After busying themselves for a while, he stopped, and said to Situ Weilian, his face reddening, “Actually, I’m quite old.”

Situ Weilian laughed and “tsk”ed, “It’s alright, you look young.”

“For an old man like me to do something like this, it’s really unseemly.”

Situ Weilian squatted on the floor, laughing so hard his face had also become red. “Stop nagging, if you nag any more the sun is going to rise. Besides, what’s wrong with this? The Westerners celebrate Halloween, and even put on make-up like this on purpose!”

Shen Zhiheng stood in front of the full-length mirror. The person in the mirror was dressed in a white gown [4] , which was stained with streaks of blood. This blood happened to be the remnants from the blood bottles. Other than that, his usually meticulous hair had been messed up by Situ Weilian, and Situ Weilian had used the leftovers from his own meal to put on make-up for him. After soaking some dry bread in soup and mashing it into a glutinous paste, Situ Weilian had spread it across his face, and then dug out a packet of white powder from his leather bag and blown it across his head and face. Once the make-up was complete, Shen Zhiheng truly no longer looked like a human. He also kept gagging, the smell of food making him extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, after drenching half of his face with bright red strawberry jam, Situ Weilian turned off the lights, suppressing his snickers as he and Shen Zhiheng went their separate ways. He had driven the hospital car over, so he drove the car when he left now. He appeared to be leaving, but he actually drove the car to the back door of the mansion to pick Shen Zhiheng up.

The two of them hid from the patrol officers, driving speedily to the Mi mansion. Situ Weilian’s driving skills were quite good, and before long, he was already quietly parking the car by a wall behind the Mi mansion.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other clamped over his mouth, he said, laughing, “Haha, Shen-xiong, go, quickly. Haha! If not, you’re going to lose your face!”

Shen Zhiheng did not dare to make any expression, but even when he was expressionless, there were still half-dried flecks of bread that dropped off from his face. He clearly knew that Situ Weilian was making use of this opportunity to find joy at his expense. Pointing at him, he made a warning gesture, and then pushed open the car door and got out of the car. Situ Weilian collapsed onto the passenger seat, extending his neck to see his silhouette. He saw him walk up to the wall. That wall was higher than him, he had to raise both of his arms high up in order to reach its top.

So, he raised both of his arms high to reach the top of the wall, and easily jumped across it, flipping himself over the wall.

For Shen Zhiheng to enter the Mi mansion, it was really effortless.

The security of this area was very good, and under Mrs. Mi’s lead, everyone in the Mi mansion lived their days muddle-headedly. If the old maids remembered to close and lock the main gates at night, that could already be considered as something done conscientiously. Shen Zhiheng pried open a window and jumped in. Previously, when he was chatting with Mi Lan, he had gained a slight understanding of the Mi mansion. So, he went directly to the second floor, entering Mrs. Mi’s bedroom.

He carefully opened the door and closed the window, and the cold wind instantly blew the curtains around, the window shutters banging around noisily as they opened and closed. In her drunken sleep, Mrs. Mi opened her eyes, only to see that a dark wind was blowing around in her room and in the pale moonlight, a tall and large figure stood before her bed. His face was an uneven mess of blood and flesh, and he was looking at her with his head lowered.

Terrified out of her wits, she opened her mouth and was about to scream, but that person suddenly raised his hand and single-handedly covered her mouth. His other large, cold hand wrapped around her neck.

That person said in a trembling, strange voice, “I am the great-grandfather of the Mi family. You evil, poisonous wench, torturing my Mi family’s descendant every day and night. Tonight, my spirit has returned just to take your wretched life.”

Mrs. Mi shook her head as if her life depended on it, becoming a shivering ball on her bed.

Then, that person said, “Since you are my descendant’s biological mother, if you repent and mend your ways, I will spare you this one time. If you dare to do it again in the future, I will definitely bring you before the ancestors of the Mi family and make you suffer in the Hell of the Blood Pool [5] !”

Then, the large, cold hand was gone, and that person flew up and out of the window. When Mrs. Mi was able to move her muscles and drag herself off the bed, the area outside the window and outside the building had long become silent again. Occasionally, a few sounds rang out as cars drove past in the distance.

Shen Zhiheng was extremely embarrassed. The second he escaped back to the car, he used his lapel to madly wipe his face and hair. After wiping for some time, he suddenly realised that Situ Weilian had disappeared.

The next second, the car door opened, and Situ Weilian jumped into the car, bringing the cold wind with him. “You’re back? So fast?”

Shen Zhiheng relaxed, and continued to wipe himself madly. “What were you doing?”

Situ Weilian started the engine, and first drove off the small lane that the Mi mansion was on. “I went to pee–”

He suddenly noticed what Shen Zhiheng was doing.

“Ai, ai, ai, stop, stop, stop. You’re making my car dirty. How can I drive it back to the hospital later? Our hospital only has this one car, my cousin would eat me!”

Shen Zhiheng ignored him, pushing the door open and jumping out. Bending down, he started retching. Just as his insides were doing somersaults, patrol whistles suddenly started echoing from nearby. He dove back into the car in a hurry.

Situ Weilian was also shocked. “They can’t be here to catch us, right?”

Shen Zhiheng was too weak to reply. Just at this moment, a patrol officer on a bicycle rode past them at the speed of lighting, shouting loudly as he went, “Guards! A demon’s on the loose!”

Situ Weilian waited until the patrol officer disappeared, before asking in a whisper, “A demon? It can’t be the one in the newspapers? What’s that, the weasel demon? The one that sucks blood.”

Shen Zhiheng paused. “I don’t know. Perhaps?”

“Sucks blood… Say, this so-called weasel demon, do you think it could be that brother you’ve been trying to find all along?”

“I still don’t know.”

Situ Weilian suddenly became spirited. “I have an idea! From tomorrow onwards, don’t sleep at night. You should come here and saunter around, and wait for that demon to come over and suck your blood. When he makes his move against you, you’ll make use of the opportunity to catch him and clarify things with him.”

Shen Zhiheng sighed, casually saying, “But what if he’s really just a demon, then what?”

“Aiyo, this old brother, what do you mean ‘just a demon’? You’re already in this state, and you’re still looking down on demons?”

“What do you mean ‘this state’? I’m even lesser than a demon?”

“You’re a vampire–”

“Shut up!”

Situ Weilian shut his mouth, driving the car straight back to the Shen mansion. When the car came to a stop at the back door of the Shen mansion, he could not help but turn around again to Shen Zhiheng, “Have you ever thought that you’re also a demon?”

Shen Zhiheng also turned to him. “No.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Shen Zhiheng opened his mouth, “It’s just that my luck is bad, and got struck by this rare misfortune–”

Situ Weilian finished his words for him. “Fortunately, you met me, and all things considered, you gained a friend who knows your heart like you do.”

Shen Zhiheng nodded his head earnestly. “Yes.”

With Shen Zhiheng, Situ Weilian was never serious, and never expressed his personal thoughts. Now, in the silence of the night, he turned back to the front, and suddenly said, “I will always be a doctor. If I can’t be a doctor, I’ll be a butcher. I will supply you with blood, and I won’t let you starve to the point that you’ll attack people. I will… I will be responsible for you until the end.”

Shen Zhiheng smiled, one hand pushing open the door while the other patting Situ Weilian’s shoulder. “Okay, okay, I know. Even if you don’t say it, I know.”

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

I translated 外宅 (wài zhǎi) very loosely as “mistress” as this is probably the closest word in modern day. It literally means “external house” and refers to the women that some men “kept” and supported during the days when they could still marry one wife and have multiple concubines. These women and their children usually did not live together with the man’s main family in the same compound, hence “external”.

My wordy attempt at translating 知音 (zhī yīn), which I���ve seen translated as “bosom friend” or “soulmate” before, but I felt that none of these really accurately reflect Shen Zhiheng’s and Mi Lan’s relationship here. 知音 literally means “know sound”, and refers to someone who knows you so well, more than you know yourself. It does not necessarily have a romantic connotation. It originated from the legend of Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi from the Spring and Autumn Period (~770-481 BCE). Yu Boya was very good at playing the qin, while Zhong Ziqi was very good at listening to the qin, and Zhong Ziqi could always understand what Yu Boya was thinking of just from how the latter played the qin alone. When Zhong Ziqi died, Yu Boya destroyed his precious qin and snapped its strings, vowing to never play the qin again, because he no longer had a zhiyin and there was no longer anyone who could understand him.

The phrase used here was 有感情, which literally means “have feelings” for each other. However, I did not use this as a translation because in Chinese, it does not necessarily have a romantic connotation like it does in English.

As in changpao.

The thirteenth level of hell in Chinese mythology, where those who disrespect others are thrown into and submerged in a pool of blood.

[ckret2]

Gideon as Stan stepson is hilarious.

Not only for the shenanigans, but the fact Stan cares 1000% about his family. Eventually he will care about Gideon, and have to deal with the mental shutdown of realizing he cares about him

You know what I don't even think he'd have a mental shutdown over it. He'd just gradually slide from "HE'S THE WORST AND I'M ONLY PUTTING UP WITH HIM FOR BUD'S SAKE, can't WAIT to ship 'im off to college and the feeling's mutual"

to "I mean what the kid really needs is a little discipline around the house to straighten him out, Bud's been too lax on him"

to "he's a brat but he's got his good points, I'll give him that"

to "yeeeah, the kid's a holy terror, but he's my holy terror, ya know?"

to "HEY, HEY, WHAT'D YOU SAY ABOUT GIDEON? MY BOY SINGS LIKE A CHERUB AND HE'S TWICE AS CUTE. Which off-key brat did YOU contribute to the school choir, come on, I'd like to see yours do better—!"

Stan's probably still fully convinced he doesn't like that kid even as he's stitching him a "GIDDY" fishing buddy hat.

Inevitably they'll have some big emotional argument that culminates in "Stan Pines, don't you forget who you're messing with! From now until the day you die, I am and shall always be your arch-nemesis!" "MAYBE YOU ARE my arch-nemesis... but you're ALSO... my SON." And then Gideon starts crying.

[gojoshooter]

They say, all good boys go to heaven — Gojo Satoru

Pairings : atheist!gojo x choirboy!reader, m/m

A/N : doing smth with my angst skills since people seemed to like the previous post, so here goes another one :P reblog if u like? ♡

Genre : angst, fluff, hurt and comfort

WARNINGS : homophobia, gojo doesn't have powers, no one has — actually, claustrophobia, male reader is not geto, secret relationship

Disclaimer: this hc is based on catholic beliefs where few of the description might be exaggeration of reality. so if you feel uncomfy, u may kindly exit.

"N' if I win, you stop bringing yer' church boy to our place".

"Got it." a darker hue of blue seemed to fill in Satoru's crystal orbs, as he sits down the wooden chair. A new sense of raw competitiveness swirling in his eyes.

You can hear the smirk in his voice though the man you're looking at is Satoru's supposed opponent, who appeared rather scary with a buzz-cut and cat eyes.

You were far from where you were supposed to be — watching men arm wrestle in the wilder outskirts of your town that Satoru once assured you to be a 'fun place'.

Your thoughts were cut short the moment the white haired male locked eyes with you, a way to make you look at him win the round.

You caught him biting his bottom lip too, either in an attempt to take the opposing arm down or his cocky trademark that he liked to show you off, you'd never know.

And if the way his muscular biceps flexed in his tight grey hoodie made your cheeks hot, he wouldn't know either.

It was a matter of seconds and the buzz-cut's arm banged on the wooden table, the slam unforgiving. He hissed as the small crowed erupted from Satoru's side, the said male standing and patting his toned left arm with the right, pompous of his built.

"I told you! Maybe you can catch up to me in a few years, ay? " Satoru's mocking sweetness dripped off him as he patted the lost boy's head.

You expected him to join the boo-ing of the losing team, but then he turned around to walk you towards the exit of the run down cabin they used as a common party place, clutching your hand.

"Satoru, what was that? " you sighed, trying your best to hide the funny proud feeling.

"That? Just a friendly match with kids." He grinned, swinging your hand lightly in his hold. You couldn't help but shake your head.

"Yeah... friendly... you kept beating the kids." He chuckled at your comment, head thrown back slightly. "Hmmm, I was about to let them have the last round y'know. It's that brat's fault " he shrugged with his pouty lips.

You gave up the never ending argument, but for some reason, that made you feel giddy inside.

"I think you enjoyed my choir practice session more than I enjoyed that " you add with a huff, trying to convince no one but yourself about who gave the other a 'better part of the evening'.

The beautiful orange hue was starting to darken, the wind howling loudly.

Satoru was too lost in his thoughts to speak, meanwhile you were suddenly too shy to start up a conversation. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as Satoru walked you home.

Your teeth chattered lightly at a particular gust of wind, making Satoru's head snap to the side. That was him, the young tire shop owner from the outskirts — Satoru

"You're cold." He frowned, already removing his grey hoodie.

"Oh no, it's fine-" you began before he threw the soft fabric on your petite body. You blush furiously, grateful as it was getting dark out.

"Thank you." You mumble softly, unconsciously sighing when you inhaled Satoru's minty cologne. The sweater was definitely big on you, creating cute sweater paws that had Satoru smiling. It amuses him — your doe eyes, your big cute grin, brown hair with curls similar to the men in old greek sculptures.

He couldn't bring himself to ask. What if you don't see him as a friend? And all your 'subtle' shy glances were friendly gestures? Or worse, what if you see him more than a friend? Then good lord, he's sure he'd mess up someday.

Satoru presumes it possibly can't be the later one, considering you're the town's renowned pastor's only son and the local church's choir boy. Following the 'right' path and doing 'holy deeds' runs in the blood.

He talked for the reminder of your way home, his cold hands in his pockets. You were two houses away when you giggle adorably at something he had said.

Walking further close, Satoru becomes aware of the dark figure standing on top of the porch of your house.

His smile drops, and you must have noticed what Satoru was looking at as well, appearing nervous. He lowered his voice as both of you reached the front of your house, very aware of the person watching them.

Satoru was about to say goodbye to you but a loud harsh voice from the top of the stairs stopped him from doing so.

"Get inside."

His eyes stayed solemnly focused on the small boy that was you, as he gives you a weak smile. "Shit, isn't his father a crazy one?" he thinks to himself.

Satoru looked up only to see the angry eyes of pastor staring down at him.

He glared back at him, watching as you silently disappear behind your father into the house.

You had already informed your father that you'll be gone in the evening for the choir practice so he wouldn't go crazy looking for you. So why does he sound so mad? You lowkey agree with Satoru, sometimes he's too much.

Once inside, you realize Satoru's hoodie is still on you. The loud slam of the front door had you flinching lightly, cutting your thoughts off.

"I thought you were going to church to practice your singing " He spat out in rage. You shrunk lightly under his burning gaze, feeling so small.

"I-I was. It's just that my friend came along and we practiced together." That wasn't a lie, was it?

"I better not see you near that boy again. He's a good for nothing street rat. Do you understand me? " He ordered, jerking you by your shoulders as he spoke, tone threatening. He never stops screaming, never. Sometimes you wonder if he will bargain his way into heaven with that skill of his.

"...Yes father." you whispered, head bowed down. You want to cry, but held your breath instead.

"Speak up you disgrace of a child! " He roares, stepping closer to you. "Dad, stop it " came a shaking voice from you, tears building up in your eyes. You did not notice her, just heard the sound of your mother that tsked behind you. It wasn't going to get easy for your tonight.

Your breathing hitched the same time your body fills with fear, palms sweating profusely as the town pastor approaches you with big steps and grabs your hand rather roughly. Your father ignores you as he opened a familiar dark closet at the end of the hallway.

"No, please." You whisper, knowing that no one could save you in that moment.

"You want to go against the Lord and hold hands with that dirty street rat like some fag, then have at it with the consequences."

You sob loudly as you begged your father not to do it, body shaking uncontrollably. You shook your head furiously, trying to pull away and making your father angrier in the process.

"Please, don't, dad " you screamed helplessly as your father shoved you inside with a harsh push. "You will stay inside untill you learn to follow the lord. " The pastor sneered, closing the door just when you ran up to it.

Only if you knew he cared less about the 'lord' and more about his reputation in the town.

No one liked the poor 'outcasts' of this region you often marched proudly with. You never understood the whole point, wasn't it in our own will wether to or to not believe in god? He would love all his children equally.

"Dad please, I can't breathe in here " you screamed, your fear of the haunting little spaces of the empty closet kicking in as you desperately banged at the door. The room was small and stuffy, your breathes coming out labored as sweat truckled down the soft damp skin.

It was dark but you've been there enough times to know where the flashlight was by now, reaching out blindly. You sniffled and sobbed, grasping the flashlight once you found it. You quickly turn it on, feeling less panicked now.

You flash it towards the floor where a Bibble and a Rosary were sitting together. With gritted teeth, you shakily reach out to grab the book as hot strings of tears flowed through your red eyes. A whimper leaves your lips, opening the book to recite passages in a soft whisper.

You cried and cried until your eyes felt puffy and sore. You couldn't help but inhale Satoru's lingering scent from the hoodie you were wearing.

It was a vein to wait for the dinner, you'd probably not even get a breakfast the next morning. That's how it has always been.

It must've been a few hours later when the door finally opened, the bright light blinding your sight.

Your tears have already dried on your cheeks, feeling your face numb as your stood up from the floor with blank eyes.

"Go to your room" your father barked before turning away, leaving you disoriented and traumatized.

You shakily grab the Bibble from the floor as you made your away to your room.

"God is good. " You whisper.

The day went in a blur of you practicing for your new prayer this Sunday, futile attempt at reading something in the local library, and in the town's school teaching the young kids of the town. That was probably the only good part of the day, you loved children as much as they loved you, though the fact that your father kept an eye on you the whole time kept you bugging. You need a release.

You wave at the little kids in distance as they ran around happily at the sound of the class dispersal.

"Get in the car "

You turn around to see your father waiting for you in his white truck. The smile on your face fell quickly, eyes losing their shine.

School just ended for the day and the pastor was not joking about bringing you home right after. You sigh as your father drove off with a straight face.

After the whole incident with your father catching you and Satoru, he forced you to read three passages of Bibble before you eat breakfast. You read and read until the letters seemed like an unreadable mess, tears clouding your eyes every two minutes. It only made you feel worse as you read about all the things that lord considered to be sins.

You wanted to be good. You wanted to be pure and clean of heart. To be a son of God.

"F-father?" you ask softly, terrified of his unleashed hot temper. Your father grunts in response.

"Could you...um- may i be dropped at the church? " came your unsure voice like a small whisper. Once again the pastor did not reply, eyes focused on the road. You had already accepted defeat, trying not to seem too upset.

It was a few moments later that you notice your father take a left turn instead of right. You release a breathe you did not know you held, relieved that you wouldn't be stuck at home.

You looked out of the window watching cars and people pass by and wondering when will you be free again.

The truck came to a complete stop, you snap out of your thoughts to see you're now in front of the church. You hesitantly look to your father, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you going to get off? " he barked. You quickly scrambled to unlock the door, muttering a quick apology.

"I expect you home by seven. Remember to pray for your sins! " the pastor spoke before driving off.

You watch your father leave with blurry eyes, tears waiting to fall. It seemed like these days all you did was cry, but he couldn't help it when his father accused him of betraying God.

It wasn't fair.

A loud sob left your lips once your father's pick up truck disappeared down the road. You quickly turned and ran inside the church, not wanting anyone to catch you crying.

Unfortunately you failed to notice the tall figure walking down the opposite side of the street.

Satoru.

He had been on his way to his repair shop when he caught sight of you being dropped off at the church. It's the first time he sees you after your father had caught you and Satoru together.

His eyes focused on your faint distraught whimpers, listening to you cry before you disappeared into the building.

His heart broke the second a pitiful sob left your small body.

Satoru frowned, crossing the street quickly. He stood by the lawn in front of the church, eyes contemplating his next move.

He bit his lips harshly, remembering the promise he made to himself about never entering a church. The nasty people of big name — the reason of his and his little family being out-casted preached and prayed here.

But the memory of the your tear-stained face had him more determined to be by your side. All he wanted was nothing more than to comfort the beautiful boy he's in love with and wipe his sadness away.

"Fuck it. " He whispered angrily before stepping forward, into the sacred building.

Sinking to your knees in front of the alter, you ignored the pain in your bones at the impact. You were glad the church was empty, this way your emotional release would be easier to get off. In that moment you didn't try to hold back your sobs, letting them out freely.

You wanted to scream your lungs out, but the only sounds that escaped you were your loud sobs.

"Please God," you cried, bottom lip quivering "take this pain away." you croaked, staring up at the statue of Jesus Christ on the cross.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks but it felt so good to just let go.

"I can't take it anymore." You grab at your heart. Memories of your father cursing and telling him he's a sinner flashed through his mind. He never seemed happy regardless of what you did.

The thought of him punishing and locking you made you cry even harder, feeling like a failure of a son.

"I-I need a sign, please I-" you begged desperately, vision blurry with tears.

"y/n"

You heard your name echo throughout the church hall, making you whip your head towards the sound.

Satoru stood at the back of the church looking around unsurely before he ran down the asile towards the broken boy. The sound of his heavy leather shoes hitting the floor sounded loud in your ears.

You felt relief fill your body at the sight of Satoru there with you.

When the male finally reached you, he gently squatted down placing his hands under your arms, hoisting you up.

"Come on, get up." he whispered softly as you got up off your knees. Satoru did not want to focus on the sacramentals starring down at him, he focuses solemnly on the boy in front of him.

Pressing your face into Satoru's chest, you sobbed your little heart out as he quickly wrapped his arms around your body.

Satoru's heart broke the second you screamed into his chest, the sound muffled but still there.

"Shh, let it all out " he whispered, rubbing small circles with his warm palm around your small back.

"He hates me" you cried, looking up at Satoru with a messy damp face. "Trust me, nobody can." He took it upon himself to wipe your tears with gentle strokes of his thumb.

Satoru knew the pastor was a bad guy, but being an asshole to his own son? A sense of protectiveness kicks in him as he holds you tighter into his muscular arms.

"N-No matter what I do, I upset him. I'm a bad son." you sniffled.

"My, my, little baby. That's not true. They're lucky to have someone like you as their son. You're... a perfect boy."

Satoru gently cupped the boy's cheeks with both hands, feeling your breath begin to even out. "If beating up your dad doesn't work, we can just run away." The seriousness in the white haired male's voice made you chuckle into his arms.

There was something about your tears that made his heart crack.

Perhaps it was because someone like you didn't deserve to shed a single tear.

Or perhaps it made him want to hurt whoever made the angel in front of him upset. He thinks — if heavens exist, that's where you truly belong.

"Let's sit for a bit, okay? " Satoru suggested, holding your shoulders and making you sit in one of the benches.

"Hmm. Let's see, what can we do to get your mind off things? " Satoru spoke softly. His mere voice calms you down every time. There is this thin string of bliss and delight wrapped around his vocal cords that enchants you, brings you closer and closer to Satoru the more he talks. And you, as if in a trance, can not help but be pulled no matter what how harsh the punishment your earn each time.

"I... I like to pray the Rosary." you pulled out the beaded necklace out from under your shirt.

"Okay let's do that." Satoru encouraged with a smile, watching with curious eyes as you grab the wooden cross from the necklace.

You breathe in deeply before starting, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Satoru watched fascinated as you did the sign of the cross, with head slightly bowed, making him do the same.

"I believe in God, the Father Almighty" you began focusing on your prayer.

You carry on as if nothing happened, but you can feel Satoru's warm hand slip in yours. He closes his eyes as well, listening to your sweet voice reciting the prayers.

Satoru had no idea what they meant, but if that brought you comfort and peace, he would sit there to accompany you.

Because whether you knew it or not, God did give you a sign, in the form of a troubled boy named Gojo Satoru.

A/N: aaand that's it! i didn't plan to extend the hc this long, but oh well. reblog if you enjoyed it <3

Tags: @luckimoon @nanamikentoseyebags @jspenft @aikaisnika @gh0stwish @dianagracesworld @Icheerymotion @tamakin7

[lixenn]

Just as the sun set on this not-so-peaceful Christmas day, a loud noise from outside of the Varia HQ suddenly started resounding throughout the building. The noise consists of a very loud christmas carol music accompanied by singing of varying...energy (50% expressive, 50% emotionless). When Chief (and the others) went outside to check on what's causing the racket, he was greeted by very familiar faces. How did they even manage to break in here??? Weren't these people supposed to be in Japan???

Several lower rank Varia members have already actually tried to put a stop to this, but one of the back-up singers keeps on countering them (no one is being hurt too badly though, thankfully). The lead singers also skillfully dodge any projectile as they perform. This group of loud troublemakers doesn't seem to plan on leaving unless they are given something, anything as a reward/compensation for their performance. What would Chief (and the others) do in this tricky situation?!

Another Ein ask another snippet 🫡😆

Enjoy!

---

Dan stares at the spectacle, taking in the several knocked out rookies, the obnoxious singing and the artful display at dodging unfolding before his eyes. It’s not a hallucination, because he slept for eight hours last night and even his brain isn’t cruel enough to subject him to this brand of silliness without at least being drugged with Rebecca’s weirder concoctions.

The singing continued, somehow getting louder by the minute while still holding a monotone flair. Honestly, if it weren’t grating on Dan’s sensitive ears, he would nearly consider it an impressive musical feat.

However, Dan’s head protests the attack to his senses and there’s also the security risk to consider. Because as amusing as this performance may be for the wider crowd, the fact that strangers (two of which he recognises as the twin heirs of the Oniyanagi yakuza group) sneaked onto Varia premises without detection is alarming to say the least.

“Dave,” Dan calls for his assistant who only hasn’t joined the choir because he’s under strict orders to never sing in public unless it’s an emergency that requires an offensive approach.

“Yes, Chief!”

Dan sighs at the enthusiasm. It’s a mystery where that man gets his never ending supply of energy from. “Schedule a meeting with Mammon when they get back from their mission. Clearly we need to discuss security measures again.”

Dave’s smile twitched for a moment, like always when someone mentions the Mist Arcobaleno. “Sure thing, Chief!”

One problem out of the way. Now to deal with the actual intruders.

They could chase them off. The Castle is their home turf and they are Varia Quality but considering the rumours regarding the Night Crow Princess...

…

Dan grimaces.

It would be fucking annoying to handle. Annoying and messy. He’s in no mood to clean up after a diplomatic incident during the winter holidays. Thank God the Boss is out of house right now otherwise the overtime would have been inevitable. Xanxus tends to shoot first and ask questions never.

Time for negotiations then.

What do they even want? Money? Snacks? A free hit?

He glances at unconscious people littering the floor. Probably not here for murder then, they can take care of their own enemies just fine.

As for money.

No.

Call him stingy but he refuses to dip into his savings for the people that invaded his home and caused a ruckus (and Mammon will know if touches the budget for anything that’s not strictly necessary and they would skin him alive for wasting it on carollers.)

Food seemed to be the best option and Olga’s cookies are to die for, they should easily work as bribe to get rid of the intruders.

Decision made, Dan turns around to head to the kitchen, speed walking along the corridors to get away from the chaos and noise as fast as possible.

Honestly, what was it with people and Christmas carols? First Val, now some Japanese brats. If Levi starts singing next, I’m hiding at Rina’s for a week.

---

So I lowkey just smashed our timelines kinda together which means don't look too deep into this (cause i technically placed this during Guide time which is pre-canon time but let's just ignore that).

Thank you so much for sending this ask Ein! It's super funny cause I have a christmas carol rule in my newest chapter it fit very well into this scenario hehehehe

(In my head Val somehow snuck the group onto Varia premises as a petty form of revenge cause Chief called her out about singing. Which resulted in Dave egging her on about continuing to sing and Val refuses to do anything that Dave wants her to do so... she was at a dilemma. Because she wants to sing (cause fuck Dan she sings if she wants to) but she also doesn't want to help Dave annoy Dan (because fuck Dave even more). Solution: bring in a third party that does the singing for her which has the nice effect of annoying Dan while still not giving in to Dave's needling. Yes, I just came up with this on the spot but it's way to complicated to fit into narrative so you just get the ramblings lmaooo)

Besides the Val situation other things that happen in the background:

Dave asking if he can dance with both Kurumi and Momina because he might have been forbidden from singing (how is that enforced? well Dan threaten him with Mammon) but he can still dance!

Felicia turning up to see what the noise is about. Getting super flustered cause both Momina and Kurumi are super cute <- disaster lesbian

Some R & D mechanics interrogating Yui about Kanarobo

Dan delivering Squalo (who also was on a mission, christmas time is murder time <- just making shit up) a list of names aka all the people that have been put out of commission by Kana (btw I just assumed it was Kana I hope I wasn't off with that OTL). When Squalo asks what's up, Dan answers with: "All these people got knocked out by a middle schooler. Clearly they need remedial training." Squalo is pissed and makes the rookies lives hell which is honestly unfair because Dan didn't mention the middle schooler was Kana who is in a completely different league.

[mychlapci]

Can sfw angst be summited. It's pretty dark but there is nothing sexy going on.

Preaching to the choir here but I need it to be known, Transformer Animated Bumblebee has a lot going on and should be more fucked up because of it. His story is really dark when you give it the proper weight.

In bootcamp he accused an innocent bot of being a traitor. Wasp wasn't investigated or given a trail, simply sent to jail. Wasp wasn't a nice bot and Bumblebee was manipulated by Longarm but it doesn't make him less guilty. He wanted Wasp to leave him alone and went along with the plan to get his wish.

Now that was years ago and Bumblebee is not the same bot. He not a recruit only looking after his own interests but he's part of a team of heroes protecting Detroit. He's Sari's best friend and is making an effort to be a good role model for her. He's no Optimus but he's learning to be a better bot. He is one of the good guys. He is good...

Then Wasp comes back for revenge.

He might not realize it at first. It might start as a thought itching at his processor. He squirrels it away saying to himself "he had to be the spy, who else could it be?" It be a take him meeting Shockwave for it to dawn on him but the realization hits him like a tsunami. He sent an innocent autobot to jail. Wasp will never have a normal life because of him. He got turned into a techno-organic monster and it's all Bumblebee's fault.

The guilt becomes a constant thought. He might have been a selfish brat who didn't know better then that's an awful thing to do. Ruin someone life for stupid petty reasons. He tries to distract himself, video games, tv, patrol duty, beating up decepticons, just anything so he doesn't think about the awful person he is. He's still joking around, acting goofy, like he's the same Bumblebee he's always been... the same silly Bumblebee who sentenced Wasp to a fate worst than the pit.

If he lets the thoughts linger too long with no distractions he can spiral into really dark places.

He doesn't deserve to be a good guy like the other autobots. What he did was awful, evil. He hates the stupid bot he was. The stupid bot he still is. Bulkhead must realized by now what he's done. He must hate Bee but saving face just like he been doing. Pretending he's not an awful and evil bot. He should leave to save them the displeasure of associating with him. He wished he had gone to prison instead. Wasp was better than him, he can admit that now, more deserving of being a hero. He is glad that Prowl has joined the allspark and doesn't have to deal with Bumblebee anymore. Maybe Bumblebee should go next, straight to the pit where evil sparks rust and never return.

AAAAAAH i love giving tfa Bumblebee some fucked-up thoughts. Personally i feel like his issues should run deeper than they were shown. The whole deal with Wasp... but also everything else. I get the vibe that Bumblebee would use humour and goofiness to distract himself and everyone else from any turmoil he might be going to, any turmoil at all. But when he's alone, that quick mind of his is just flipping through terrible thoughts...

i can imagine Bumblebee would reason with himself at first, tell himself he made a silly little mistake with Wasp and who really cares, eh? They didn't like each other, anyways. But when he lets himself spiral, realizes just how awful it would've been if it was him, accused of being a traitor with no one to help him. Part of him feels like now that everyone knows he made that mistake, there is no one to help him for real...

I wonder if he'd actually do something to himself now that be feels so aimless. I think Bee would think about it but would never hurt himself for making that stupid mistake. He wouldn't tell anyone, however... just keeps on stewing.

[sleepdeprivedphilosopher]

pain is cold water

Chapter 7: trying to find your voice in the choir

“I wanted to know what was so pressing for you to avoid your responsibilities in Gotham,” Damian says. “What you were doing that was so important that you neglect–” “–I’m not neglecting anything brat,” Tim hisses. “I took care of everything before I left.” “And yet everything you are currently doing pales in comparison,” Damian says. “Are you really so listless that you cannot find better things to do with your time–” “–Shut up Damian,” Tim growls. “No,” Damian says and gets to his feet. “Really Drake is this what you are spending your time on? Coming up with ridiculous hero names and throwing juvenile parties instead of actually contributing something–” “–Get out,” Tim says coldly. “Just get the fuck out of my apartment before I make you.” Damian scoffs. “You could try.”

and we're back with your regularly scheduled angst lol I actually wasn't expecting Damian to have as big of a role as he does in this chapter, but apparently, the kid had a lot to say.

read it now on ao3!

[malsfefanfics]

OC Profile: Davi

Art by @cringeyvanillamilk, edited to icon size by me.

"We're not exactly sure where he came from, but he's become a fine member of the monastery. Davi has the heart of a knight, but he has a laid back side as well. I get the feeling he keeps us all at arms length, though. I wish to know him better. He seems particularly awkward around Felix, Dedue, and is actively avoiding Seteth and Flayn." -- Dimitri about Davi.

Full name: Davi Valerio Nicknames: Dava (by children), Vi, Brat (by Graham, affectionate) Birthday: 19th of the Pegasus Moon, 1164 Age: 21 (Pre-Timeskip), 26 (Post-Timeskip) Crest: [REDACTED] Family: Unnamed mother (deceased), unnamed father (deceased), Rui (twin brother, deceased), unnamed grandfather (deceased), Graham Govain (Adoptive Guardian), Chliodna Govain (Adoptive Guardian) Nationality: Duscur Titles: Crepuscular Commander, Warrior of the Mind Voice Claim: Jonah Scott (Legoshi from Beastars)

Interests: Weapons training, the Opera, Religious Studies Likes: Horses, Choir Practice, Training, Dancing Dislikes: Most of Faerghus, Crests, Heroes Relics

Favorite Meals: Onion Gratin Soup, Grilled Herring, Fruit and Herring Tart Liked Meals: Saghert and Cream, Beast Meat Teppanyaki, Pickled Rabbit Skewers, Derdriu-Style Fried Pheasant, Disliked Meals: Garreg Mach Meat Pie, Country-Style Red Turnip Plate, Gautier Cheese Gratin

Tea Preferences: Chamomile, Cinnamon Blend, Almyran Pine Needles

Liked Gifts: Fishing Float, Exotic Spices, Floral Adornment, Book of Sheet Music Disliked Gifts: The History of Fodlan, Legends of Chivalry, Book of Crest Designs,

Lost Items:

Strange Book of Music: A notebook filled with unfinished sheet music. The lyrics are in a language you don't recognize.

Traditional Kilt: A garment fit for a warrior. An elaborately weaved design colors it like the twilight.

Suppression Charm: A charm meant to suppress magic power. You remember seeing something similar in a Crestology book.

Starting Class: Commoner Preferred Class Path: Soldier/Monk --> Cavalier/Mage/Dark Mage/Priest --> Paladin/Wyvern Rider/Bishop/Dark Bishop/Warlock --> Wyvern Lord/Dark Knight/Holy Knight Strength: Lance Weakness: Heavy Armor Budding Talent: Faith Personal Skill: Merciful Pantheon - Increases nearby allies critical hit rates by 5% when their health is less than half.

Weapons Starting Levels:

Sword: C Lance: B Axe: E Bow: D Brawling: E Reason: D Faith: D+ Authority: C Heavy Armor: E Riding: D Flying: D

Base Stats:

HP: 30 Str: 12 Mag: 6 Dex: 7 Spd: 7 Lck: 6 Def: 8 Res: 8 Cha: 10

Learned Faith Spells: Heal (D) Nosferatu (D+) Recover (C), Seraphim (B), Aura (A) Learned Reason Spells: Thunder (D), Thoron (C), Bolganone (B), Excalibur (A), Agnea’s Arrow (A)

Recruit Requirements for Canon-Compliance AUs: 

Blue Lions: must complete the Paralogues "War for the Weak" and "An Ocean View", and have B or higher in Lances, Reason, and Riding

Golden Deer: must complete the Paralogues "Dividing the World" and "An Ocean View", and have C or higher in Faith and Flying

Black Eagles: must complete "True Chivalry" and "An Ocean View", have a B in Axes and Heavy Armor.

Black Eagles (Silver Snow): Must also have completed Ashen Wolves Paralogues and have a B in Swords and Authority

Potential Supports:

Byleth

Dimitri

Dedue

Felix

Sylvain

Ingrid (up to B)

Annette

Mercedes

Edelgard

Caspar

Dorothea

Bernadetta

Petra

Claude

Lorenz (Up to B)

Hilda (Up to B)

Leonie

Raphael (Up to B)

Ignatz (Up to B)

Seteth

Flayn

Manuela

Hanneman (Up to B)

Yuri

Constance

Hapi

Balthus

Crit Quotes:

By the grace of the gods!

Ashes to ashes, as they say.

This is my vengeance!

You are not much of a challenge.

My mentor calls.

You're in my way!

You shall regret crossing blades with me!

God of War, guide me!

You are a disgrace!

Defeat Quotes:

Apologies, friends. I must fall back.

This is too much. We must retreat.

I....I won't die here....not now....

Ah...so this is what Rui felt that day...

I'm sorry, Graham. I failed....

Don't weep....I....made my choice....

Skill Level Increase Quotes:

This will aide my people well.

This blessing will serve me well.

Blessings by the God of Wisdom.

Now this is curious.

Insightful. Thank you.

Level Up Quotes:

To grow is part of life.

Blessed by the God of War.

I know I can do better.

The Gods are testing me.

Gift Quotes:

Liked Gifts: You found something truly magnificent. I am grateful.

Neutral Gifts: This is delightful.

Disliked Gifts: Perhaps you should take your curses elsewhere.

[taylorvaughnsaidso]

lol this is too good

[wavernot4love]

i do believe it is time for another vaguely infamous wavernot4love show recap ...... idkhow impending gloom rochester, 11.16.24 edition (tour spoilers after the break thingy)!!!! one of my favorite visitations i've ever experienced methinks ..... finally gettin the chance to ramble 2 dallon after years ...... and successfully getting rid of most of my bracelets ..... oh my!!!! oh boy, this one is going to be lengthy because SO MUCH fun stuff happened, man. right then (note that i went in mostly blind this time which was certainly An Experience):

also!!!! in general!!!! as i mentioned up there visitation was easily a top 3... top 2???? visitation i have ever experienced (i told dallon this exact thing.... more on that later).

i'd hoped she'd play hot to go 😍

(but unironically, transition back into visitation goes crazy) ((i feel like the absolute lack of any form of Cinematography whatsoever in this goes to show how i was feeling here)

let me tell you, the MOMENT the oh my lord lord lords started i just had this Feeling it was gonna be one of those visitations (i recall turning 2 my cousin and this sentiment being echoed). and that it was ,,,,, the ol Split sure did happen directly next to us so we got 2 chill there goin yeedy yeedy heedy heedy with dallon and his megaphone. i could recite the entire visitation yodel segment in my sleep methinks. very fun stuff. peep me lookin 4 videos from the other side of the split on instagram ,,, also gotta say dallon's "ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between" will always make me giggle and kick my feet a bit (in a /j way). it's like the mormon tabernacle choir bit (which didn't happen this time, i honestly think this was the first non fest show i've seen where they didn't do a letter. not complaining as uhhh.... absence can in fact make the heart grow fonder n i know she'll be back someday)

is now the time to share that i only know the words to hot to go due to 1. this and 2. terrible influence toronto. the titronto singalong as i've seen it be called. i am about the same level of an up to date main pop girlie (gender neutral) as your grandpa. but i am glad 2 be adopted into the singalong by true main pop girlies (dan phil and dallon)

with that being said... SIXFT went too hard last night!!!! as always. but dallon's lil speech about us all focusing on the moment now because someday we'll all be six feet deep that went right into the tune..... oh yes what an intro.

i feel like earlier on, things REALLY started picking up/the crowd and everyone got into the swing of things with gloomtown brats. i always kinda take note of when everyone seems 2 loosen up near the beginning of a set and Yup . this one was it last night. blondie rapture-esque 80s rap bit you will always be so beloved. i remember when you were just a figment of dallon's imagination he talked about potentially wanting to do someday on twitter ,,,,

we finally got satanic panic oh yes. the minute dallon started talking about growing up in the 80s oh i knew where This was going. this is makin me wish i could post more than one video in here.

also speaking of, hearing kiss & tell live made me like her SO much more oh my. dallon crushes it in the chorus, something about it is very earwormy to me gotta say.

also..... ABSINTHE CAME BACK FROM THE GRAVE!!! mad iqs as well but i think absinthe had been... absent for longer. i will always think of the time i was goin nuts during her at this radio fest in 2019 and my phone sailed straight out of my pocket and across the crowd.

i fear i will Always enjoy dallon telling us under 25s to cover our ears and eyes for Adult Themes before what love. as someone who recalls when he did something of the sort for the debra cover circa 2019 i am glad i still fit into the age bracket 2 be patronized here.

opening band was gr8 as always, my favorite bit being the.... extended .... you may just like the.... segment. the parents, and especially boyfriends, sure did get shouted (called?) out. dallon (about said boyfriends getting dragged along): ....but you still gave us money! [crowd laughter] (back to singing) and that's what gives me.... a purpose ......

choke also hit extra last night. song goes HARD, i was desensitized for a while way back when it was constantly getting play on alt radio, but man, she is Not overrated,,,, appropriately rated, i think

no extra ending brobecks song but i am Not complaining. gr8 set, and hopefully someday bike ride will come back 2 me ......

also, i should mention that i Really enjoyed brasko's set. not inherently my kinda music per se, but the energy was off the charts. the dude had character, which i respected. get there early if you're going 2 any of these shows. also, opening band w/ alexsucks dude was sweet. the way i also have the "headlining band" segment memorized from the superet days ..... much like other Live Idkhow ™️ moments like the "i died in 1917" bit of visitation (which actually caught me off guard last night when it was changed to "i died in rochester new york" ...... damn poor visitation character. /hj) or the OH WHA OH OH OH in the second verse of clusterhug.

anyways, on to the post show Events .....

so long story short all the folks i knew @ the show wanted 2 leave (hence why i drove separate,, mwahaha), so the gang split up and i headed 2 the side of the building with the bus, where there were lots of people hanging around, and pretty much curled up borderline in the fetal position against the wall where i sat for a solid 45 minutes (it was cold and in the moment i did not quite have the energy 2 wander around starting conversations to trade etc)

due to said Cold, i pretty much set a time of 12:15 for when i'd leave if nothing had happened yet.... a couple times i contemplated going since i was straight up shivering but Something made me stay and man am i so glad i did!!!!

i remember watching that clock tick qusstioning how much longer i could go, and then right about 12:15 (maybe a minute or two after), a crew member came out and told us dallon was coming out to meet us, he was just on vocal rest but could sign/take pics etc!

so naturally wavernot4love was Back in business and i jumped 2 my feet and instantly was energized enough to chat some folks up and get rid of a good chunk of my bracelets (!)

sadly i somehow didn't think 2 bring a cd or anything so i had Nothing to get signed (oh my) but man, that didn't matter. i was just so stoked to finally meet dallon after years of going 2 shows/trying to!

anyways, homie came out and when he got to me he like. waved dbdbdh our whole "conversation" was quite funny considering the ways dallon improvised to get around not being able to talk.

i was basically like "hello! i know you can't talk so i am just.... gonna ramble 2 you for a minute!"

and that i sure did. essentially i went on a quick minuteish long recap of the Lore ,,,,

i remember i started by just saying how much the shows/music have meant to me over the years, and dallon did a thank you in sign language to me (like, the motion with your palm facing your chin that kinda looks like a backwardsish wave) which he did probably a dozen times later (it was really sweet honestly) and bringing up that this was my ninth time seeing them which made one of the ppl i was trading w exclaim like, "wow!" or something along those lines (hghfhfh i got vaguely embarrassed then, the way whenever i am meeting band folks i just completely go in our lil Bubble internally and forget other folks are. Right There), and dallon like. put his hand by his heart and then put his hand out like, wanting me to shake it and i think he seemed like he wanted me to introduce myself so i quickly said ya know that i am nat or natalie whatever you want 2 call me,,,, while we were shaking idk dawg it was goofy.

anyways, i babbled about how i'd been a fan of idkhow/the brobecks' music forever, and that i first saw them like, down the street basically at a venue called anthology on the waterparks tour way back and since had seen them all over rochester, syracuse, and buffalo, and how i was so glad they/he keeps coming back and how nice it's been to not have to travel outside of the area for any of my shows!!! i just went on about how much i love the shows and how much i especially loved visitation, and he kept doing the thank you thing (he did that about as much as i called him "dude," something i tend to do in Band Folk conversation when i'm meeting someone for the first time and am vaguely nervous (god it's like my literal embodiment of the "sorry i say shawty when i'm nervous" meme).

when he could tell my story was pretty much. you know. ending he made like. a lil camera taking a picture motion with his hands with like. a question mark in there somehow fbfbfh which was really convenient actually because i always feel awkward asking. anyways, i was like hell yeah let's go and then i did my goofy thing i always do for pictures where i remember i don't like how my glasses glare or whatever for pics so i panic and am like "actually wait!" while i randomly chuck them someplace out of the picture for the moment. i may have mildly scared dallon here i'll be honest. but also kinda amused him who knows, we all have our quirks

anyways, we took a few pics and i basically said great show man thanks and see you at the next show! and he i think waved or something along those lines and we went our separate ways!!

i did make a lil post right after this happened last night here but here's the pic again!!! hooray!!!!

i do think it is safe to say i finally broke the wavernot4love x water street music hall curse (the other three shows i'd been to there, not idkhow, were not really the greatest experiences). it is lookin good 4 the future!!!!

anyways, GREAT great show as always and man i'm so glad me and dallon could finally meet!!!!

[ndcultureis]

Autistic culture is having a teacher that continuously violates your 504 because she didn’t believe you were actually struggling and thought you were just trying to get out of her class since you left so much. You know, the class with over 10 more people then there should be? The class in a choir room with walls and a ceiling designs to exaggerate sound? The class with bright fluorescent lights? Yeah, you’re just being a brat.

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