#could work either way but works in NO WAY because I just cannot figure out what the writing thinks it's doing!

[lbhslefttiddie]

a few Thoughts on the matter (somewhat long?):

the separation anxiety is real bad. yqy is no longer able to trust that sqq will not die or perhaps just vanish the Second yqy turns away. this drives sqq a Little bit insane bc for a minute he thinks yqy thinks he's not capable of taking care of himself. yqy is just not fully able to believe this is real and that he isnt going to lose xiao jiu all over again (and again, and again, and again—)

its only a matter of time before sqq figures out yqy's whole Thing is something that cannot be attributed wholly to poor teaching or care while he was gone. its fun bc in this world theres literally no one at all who could know the truth besides yqy, who is, of course, incapable of speaking about it. sqq is piecing together a working theory about some sort of curse he encountered during the time they were apart that deeply traumatized him, but whatever it is, it seems no one else ever found out about it....

honestly its good for the prev sect leader that the xuan su/ling xi caves bullshit isnt a thing anymore, because if it was sqq would have eventually pinned the prev sect leader as responsible for how deeply fucked up yqy is (which isnt wholly unfair) now and probably would have killed her lmao

yqy has lost all ability to pretend that sqq is not always his first priority. he wears the visage of placid geniality and reliable older brotherisms easily, because its worn itself into his skin over countless lifetimes, and he has not changed in that he is generally kind and avoids conflict, but when if comes to sqq he is not capable of remaining mild anymore. man cant even pretend to listen to the other side, if sqq says it went like this then it went like this, and he gets real threatening real fast when something presents itself as a risk to sqq. and everyone just has to sort of Deal With It, because yqy is Insanely Fucking Strong in this au, and sqq is, somehow, actually the only thing keeping him from tearing the world apart at the seams or otherwise tanking the sect

sqh never makes it to sect leader; yqy already knows about his future betrayal, so the instant sqq clocks the suspiciousness of him not dying from that one demon encounter his ass is getting investigated to hell and back; if he is caught he would get executed; though, given the cleverness and sheer drive to not die that fuels sqh (either iteration), its possible he would avoid that fate, whether by fleeing the sect or covering his ass well enough, but he will never be trusted enough to rise to peak lord in this life

yqy is so caught up in the I Don't Need Anything Or Care About Anything As Long As Xiao Jiu Is Okay mentality that romance does not even exist in his mind, and if it did, he would never dare threaten what he has for something that he doesnt need. sqq, however, is going to eventually decide that the best way to communicate that he isnt going anywhere is for them to get married

though he still went though most of his canon childhood trauma, sqq is much better better off emotionally here, because A) it is not even possible to doubt that yqy cares about him more than anything in the world and would have saved him if he could and that he tried so, so hard, and B) fussing over the mess that is yqy keeps him thoroughly occupied such that he cannot wallow in self hatred or start beefing with preteens or what have you

this does probably fall into the category of aus where lbh goes to bai zhan instead of qing jing because sqq could not give a single shit about lqg in this world

funny enough there is like a 70% chance lqg dies in this universe. theres a non-zero chance that with yqy unable to part from him that sqq just wouldn't end up going into secluded cultivation at the time that lqg is in the ling xi caves, and if he goes into seclusion With yqy there's like a 50/50 chance yqy would kill lqg himself. it might mot even be on purpose too, if qi deviating lqg tried to attack sqq, yqy could possibly smack him aside and do enough thoughtless damage then, considering his own strength and lqg's weakened state, to accidentally kill the guy. but also theres a definite possibility of him killing him on purpose for attacking sqq

if lqg dies then i think it would be so funny if lbh and lmy got together (not romantically; lbh definitely wanted to smash lqg in this au) to exact revenge on yqy but like. nothing comes of it ever. bc what are they gonna do? yqy is stronger here than he was in pidw canon, and with sqq always at his side all his weaknesses are covered. sqq himself could of course be identified as his primary weakness, but the man is untouchable in this au, both physically and in terms of his reputation; yqy is the one who killed lqg and straight up fucking said as much as soon as they left the caves; sqq is a distant master in this au but not abusive, he probably doesn't even remember lbh exists; hell, he possibly doesn't even know that ning yingying exists in this au, and even if he did he doesn't have a reputation as a lecher, and lbh and nyy likely never even met; yqy specifically made sure to kill qht so that she could never come back to punish sqq for letting her live, and with that there is no one left alive besides themselves who knows they once were slaves, nor of sj's involvement with wyz; sqh has been dealt with years ago, which means the immortal alliance conference demon invasion never happens, which means lbh never falls into the endless abyss, least of all by sqq's hand (and even if he had its not like anyone in the cultivation world would fault sqq for killing a heavenly demon in itself), which also means lbh will never find xin mo or become as powerful as he did in pidw. and even if they HAD things to accuse sqq of, his standing amongst his martial siblings in this life if MUCH better than once it was; they will stand for him in the name of sect solidarity.

all of this is to say that lbh and lmy might try some plots but nothing would ever come of it; perhaps eventually they will leave the sect in anger and end up falling in with the huan hua palace master, and perhaps this would eventually lead to an intersect war, perhaps, but nothing would come of that, either, and there's no guarantee that even the hhpm would try to fuck with that (gesturing at yqy) in this lifetime

equally likely that what would actually come of it is lbh finding out the truth about sxy and tlj and tanking hhp from the inside. as he deserves.

meanwhile lmy has split from lbh once its become clear they weren't going to get anywhere in avenging her brother and has since found herself in good company at tian yi overlook

in the 30% chance that lqg doesnt die in the ling xi caves, he may or may not become a fun occasional addition to qijiu sexytimes

more seriously, sqq and lqg do not have the same animosity they did in their original lifetimes. lqg still respects yqy for his strength but he does recognize that if sqq were a different person, he could have had yqy destroy half the world before anyone managed to stop him, and to recognize that he necessarily has to respect sqq as well. it helps that there aren't any sussy rumours about sqq in this life fro them to fight over.

meanwhile yqy remembers that in lifetimes where lqg has lived past the caves incident, he has been willing to put his life on the line to defend sqq, which is like the only metric by which he measures anyone's worth these days. sqq, for his part, can appreciate both the value of a dedicated guard dog who is capable of leaving his side for extended periods of time, and the physical prowess and stamina that accompanies the bai zhan war god's very pretty face

suddenly seized with the desire to write/draw a few short little scenes from the world after the events of You Can (Not) Redo (the uh. the yqy timeloop fanfiction. not the evangelion movie which i named it for) because it is, generally speaking, a happy ending, but also yqy is left deeply, deeply broken in ways that would be both fascinating and hilarious to explore

[elainemorisi]

cannot tell if I'm Sturgeon's Lawing it, overextrapolating, or in fact remotely onto a thing, but... Media These Days is really taking shortcuts with like, [especially moral] characterization, right? like this isn't a remark in any direction about the contents of the morality, it's a remark about how many times I've watched/read a thing and sat there going like, I'm pretty sure you (writing) expect me to take this as believable, but you actually just have a paper doll mouthing words here, this isn't believable just because the paper doll is mouthing The Good Guy Words

and like it's something beyond Pet The Dog, is the thing. I've no objections to dog-petting as a tool. one identifiable difference being that The Good Guy Words are then later made load bearing for reversal, of all fucking things. it's one thing to have Designated Good Guy that's fine (and actually this stuff is more Designated Sympathetic, so again, "moral" being used very loosely). but if you want?? as I think you want??? me to first believe that DGG is in fact G but then! to be shocked when he isn't... you gotta do more than mouth words. we don't actually share an unspoken and obvious moral code, you the writer and I. but also even in cases where I don't outright disbelieve your definition of Good it... still doesn't work. there's still no there there

and like the fixes are there, but they're not so similar as to feel like the explanation is really in them (closest generalized fix is "remember the agency of other characters" but like that's a fix for so much bad writing it barely counts). it sorta just seems like this particular bar has sunk into the floor? but why?

tl;dr the experience is "I'm not conflicted[/shocked/moved], I'm confused" and I swear, it's increasing. often in total (but popular) shit, sure, but sometimes in not-utter-shit-in-every-other-respect stuff too. and just, why??

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[somestorythoughts]

I'm picturing Obi-Wan meeting some of the other clones made for specific jedi on the way back to coruscant and - still overwhelmed and confused and trying not to visibly panic - and suddenly worrying like "shit are they gonna be jealous that Cody met his jedi first will there be issues?" only to find that there's almost no jealousy. Not none, but it's overwhelmed by the mix of joy and longing that comes with knowing they're about to meet their jedi and fulfill their given purpose as protectors. He doesn't know whether to be relieved or more concerned.

The collective WTF when the council found out resonated around the planet into any nearby ships. The louder WTF once the rest of the jedi learned about it resonated throughout the entire system.

Twist The Madness

Master Sifo-Dyas is the change point in this little bit of madness. 

In canon Sifo-Dyas is the Jedi that commissioned the Clone Army, driven mad by visions of a war that would destroy the Jedi, of the Jedi temple burning. It is unclear if he was seeing the results of the Clone Wars and Order 66 (thus, like Anakin, created the visions that drove him mad) or if he prevented his visions and Order 66 was something different entirely. It is also unclear if he was patsy of the Sith from the beginning, or if his plan was hijacked by the Sith at a later point.

But what if his takeaway from his visions and the madness they drove him to was just a bit different. Not an army, but protectors. 

Sifo-Dyas still commissioned 1 million clones but not all at once. Instead it would be an ongoing order for generations. The initial amount decanted would be 100,000 clones, most would grow at a double rate until they reach physical adulthood, then their aging would be slowed to normal for near humans. Their training would be generalized and the calling they would be raised with would be to protect the Jedi Temples. The intention being that they would be spread throughout the active temples and live amongst the Jedi there. Approximately 10,000 had a slightly different charge. Each would be raised for a specific Jedi, their genetics tweaked so that they would be a perfect companion and protector (including aging the clone to either adulthood or to match their assigned Jedi and then matching their aging to their Jedi). 

Jango Fett is still contracted to be the progenitor for the clones, but not because of his ability to kill Force Users. Instead it is his genetics themselves that separates him out from other bounty hunters. Due to the crossbreeding of his ancestors, his genetic code is particularly malleable, meaning that the genetic modifications needed to match Clone to a specific Jedi are that much easier. He was not expected to provide training, thus he simply provided generic material  (enough over the course of one year for all 1 million clones in the order), is paid a massive amount of credits plus 1 son (Boba) and leaves; he has no idea that this order is for the Jedi.  

At his request there is a specific genetic marker that is artificially added to all of the clones but Boba so that none of them can claim to be him or his son. He also signs a truly impressive number of agreements that released him from responsibility for the clones AND guaranteed that he knew that he was being cloned (Look, realistically the ethical issue with cloning a sentient being centers around the being being cloned, not the clones themselves; the ethical issues with the clones and their sentience is sentient trafficking).

I want it to be clear here. Sifo-dyas was still driven to madness before he commissioned the clones. He and master Dooku were working together on this project, sharing the madness. Dooku does not fall to the darkside here, though he does still leave the Jedi Order. Though their machinations see that the Clones on the whole are treated better, as they are meant to be companions and protectors of the Jedi, the clones are very much being raised for a destiny that they were not able to choose (with all the ethical issues that come with that). There is a heavy focus and even heavier propaganda throughout the clones' childhood of how they are, in a very real sense, being raised for the Jedi. It is also very heavily referenced that the Jedi as a whole do not know about the Clone yet, since they were a surprise.

The 10,000 who were being raised for a specific Jedi grew up with every piece of information that could be found about their Jedi. Their training was tailored to the Jedid they were assigned to.  The information/propaganda/brainwashing was so specific for these 10,000 that after about the age of 3 chronologically, (a variety of ages physically, though age 6 is the most common for the clone that are meant to go to the adult Jedi), the clones whose Jedi died before they could meet could not be retrained. Instead their fellow clones consider them to be a living memorial for the lost Jedi (It is a really weird cultural development, but both Sifo-Dyas and Dooku allow it-They want the Clones as a culture to be in a symbiotic relationship with the Jedi and this fit in with that). 

Sifo-Dyas’s plan did derail Dooku’s fall entirely, instead of causing Sifo-dyas’s death Dooku ghosted Palpatine around the time of the Naboo invasion. It never occurs to Dooku to let anyone know that Palpatine is a Sith. 

Fast forward about 10 years, Dooku and Sifo-Dyas construct a far too complicated, dramatic plan to lure Obi Wan to Kamino. As far as they are concerned it is only right that Obi Wan gets ‘his’ clone protector, Cody, first (as Dooku’s grand padawan).  It actually somewhat mirrors cannon, in that Anakin is sent on a mission to escort Senator Padme Amidala to Naboo (this is actually a separate plan by Palptine, who is trying to corrupt Anakin.In this Padme has been little more than a puppet for Palpatine for years-Her will is so strong that she has retained little bits of her own sense of self, as long as Palpatine is not in the equation but nothing like what she should have been)  alone, as a test to see how ready he is to take his trials. Dooku then hires a bounty hunter, not Jango Fett, to lure Obi Wan to Kamino. 

Obi Wan is met on Kamino by the Kaminoans first but also an all but visibly vibrating Cody. This Cody is radiating adoration and glee into the Force at finally meeting ‘his’ Jedi. It should be noted that Cody’s presence in the Force could not have been more perfect for Obi Wan. Cody gives the full tour to a mildly shellshocked Obi Wan; including introducing him to Rex, who has been raised for Anakin (I debated Rex going to Anakin or Ahsoka, but ultimately decided that Echo and Fives (together as twins) were meant for Ahsoka). They end the tour with a meeting with Dooku and Sifo Dyas who explain the clones.  

Now Dooku and Sifo-Dyas deliberately have Cody stay while they explain who and what the clones were meant to be.  Obi Wan already does not want to hurt Cody and there are only so many ways one can say ‘What the fuck do you mean cloned protectors?’ and all of them could be read as a rejection of the clones themselves. Dooku also manages to make it clear to Obi Wan without stating it outright, thus in Obi Wan’s eyes leaving Cody in the dark, that if the Jedi Order rejects the clones they (the clones) will all be killed as defective.

So now Obi Wan gets to make a very carefully worded call to the Jedi High Council about the new 100,000 lives they need to become responsible for (who will be murdered if they don’t), of which about 10,000 have been brainwashed so thoroughly that barring them from ‘their Jedi’ might actually cause very real psychological harm.  Also politically the Jedi appears to have just acquired an army, possibly of slaves.

Like, even without the war, the sheer magnitude of What the Fuck that comes with ‘These people think we own them, their entire sense of self rests on how well they serve us. How do we tell them we don’t without breaking their sense of self’. Also being told that Dooku and Sifo-Dyas, who have not technically broken any laws(they used Dooku’s money instead of the Jedi’s so there is not even any fraud), would continue to have the Kaminoans produce clones and give them to the Jedi Order until the 1 million already paid for have been decanted. 

I am just saying, everyone on the high council needed to take a minute. Obi Wan also needed to take a minute. Oddly enough Obi Wan’s minute of panic came just before Anakin would have slaughtered the Tuskens (Controlled Padme was under orders to get Anakin in as many situations as possible that would cause him to reach for the dark. Including following a vision of his mother dying). That moment of panic disrupted the rage and pain enough that Anakin did not reach for the dark side or slaughter the Tuskens.  He escaped with his mothers body instead. 

They manage to get all 100,000 clones back to the Coruscant Temple without causing a panic or a diplomatic incident with the Senate (in spite of Palpatine watching like a hawk for anything he could use to discredit the Jedi, after his most reliable source of information ghosted him).  Then the Jedi made a point of asking each and every clone what they actually wanted to do (they were truly at a loss as to what else to do). Of the 90,000 generally trained, about 500 did not want to be protectors of the Jedi. As the Jedi’s response is immediately ‘Do you know what you want to do? If not, we can help you figure it out. We can get you education and whatever resources you want to pursue your dream’ with the manic air of someone who really wants help but has no idea how to, caused the remaining 89,500 generally trained clones to not just cement but weld their loyalties to the Jedi. Like they were all ready to die for the Jedi before, because of propaganda,  but now that they were even more amazing than the Clones had thought…now the loyalty of these clones is that much deeper (frankly the Jedi remain worried about this). For the 10,000 clones that were trained for specific Jedi, they actually had to stop asking because without fail the thought of not being able to protect ‘their’ Jedi led to a panic attack. 

So now we have the Jedi who have kinda been forced to accept these protectors and companions.  The adult Jedi are working really hard to figure out a balance between trying to break the brainwashing and letting the clones have the autonomy to act on their own desires (since their desires are ‘protect the Jedi’). The children in the Creche were simply introduced to their companions with the hope that being raised together can mitigate some of the training (This also means that the creche and classes have to be rapidly adjusted so that they can accommodate the clones as well). 

For some angsty flavor, we see the Jedi coming to love (romantic, familial, sexual, platonic, or other) their Clone companions and being constantly beset by thought of ‘how can I act on these feelings, they don’t have a choice’ and ‘they think the belong to me…?’. And as far as the clones are concerned everything that their Jedi does reinforces how they are deserving of the clones' loyalty and love.

Note: I do want you all to know that sudden addition of Rex following Anakin around AND the lack of war did derail Anidala before it began

[satoruhour]

HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time. 

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

[bats-and-the-birds]

I like to think about young Dick Grayson a lot, and right now I'm specifically thinking about him from the Justice League's perspective.

Like, imagine you're in the Justice League, maybe you've been there for a few months, maybe for a few years, but either way, you know how it works. Superman's terrifyingly powerful, but you get over the fear factor as soon as you see him cry over a sad cat video, and Wonder Woman's still a bit intimidating, but as long as you're good and truthful, you can trust that she won't crush your head like a grape.

And Batman... well, you've made your peace with the fact that you'll never figure him out. You know literally nothing about him, other than the fact that he claims to be fully human, but you're not even really sure about that, because you're pretty sure he just materializes in the shadows sometimes. The only things that you're 100% sure of is that you're terrified of him, and you're so glad that he's not on someone else's side.

And then, suddenly, he has acquired a child. Just like everything else, you don't find out immediately, because god forbid that man tell his team anything. But you start to hear vague reports of another shadow trailing behind Batman in the night. Superman asks him about it one day, but of course, he doesn't respond, and they all wonder, but it never gets brought up again.

But one day, unexpectedly, that shadow is at a league meeting, and he's not as shadowy as you would have thought. In fact, he's wearing the most vibrant costume you've seen, and you spend all of your time with other heroes in spandex. He's also young. Terrifyingly young. It's his twelfth birthday, actually, he explains to the league, and he pestered 'B' until he agreed to take him to a meeting. You all agree later that he looks younger than twelve. And you worry about him, because why is this child in Batman's care? Can he really be trusted to look after someone so small, so young, so seemingly fragile?

Besides, Robin (Robin, his name is Robin, he's a songbird for christ's sake), is everything that you'd think Batman would hate. He talks everyone's ear off with a giant grin stretched across his entire face. He begs Superman to fly him around and cackles and claps as Wonder Woman demonstrates basic sword maneuvers for him. Before long, the whole team is in a better mood. Meanwhile, Batman stands in the shadows, his face impassive, with no explanation about the little masked boy that walked into the room hiding under his cape.

He leaves just as he came, disappearing under Batman's cape as the two exit the watchtower together, and the whole league is left to wonder how the fuck that child ended up in Batman's care, and whether or not they should intervene, because spending prolonged time in Batman's company cannot be healthy for a child.

But then he starts showing up more and more, popping up in some places that you know from Batman's glare he's not supposed to be. He's teamed up with that speedster boy and the two of them cause havoc, but Robin takes the lecture he gets with a grin and gives a half hearted promise to behave.

You steadily start to realize that he might not be as out of place in Batman's company as you originally thought. You realize that the boy is a performer through and through, and that extends to that grin of his that dazzled the team when they first met him. You get the impression that sometimes its genuine, yes, but you'd never know if it wasn't. His exuberance is a persona held in place as meticulously as Batman's grim seriousness.

And though you'd assumed that Batman's sidekick (partner, the boy insisted, rather intensely, though his smile never faltered) would be well trained, this kid could take down league members, you're sure. You quickly realize that he enjoys fighting, and he fights viciously, giggling and putting on a show, but leaving broken bones in his wake. Your first impression is that Robin was more human than the demon they called the Batman, but you quickly start to question that too. If Batman can materialize in shadows, then Robin can fly. He twists through the air like gravity doesn't affect him and lands with so much grace that you'd think he had hollow bones like his namesake. You're not fully convinced he doesn't, considering he climbs up the bat with no warning, clinging onto his back like he belongs there (you quickly start to think he does), or he'll throw himself through the air with no more warning than a quick 'catch' yelled to his partner. And Batman catches him. Batman always catches him. Everyone keeps an eye on him when he's up high, but there's a part of you that feels like it's impossible that he'd ever fall. Or at least, impossible that Batman would ever let him hit the ground.

And you start to think that Robin's exactly where he's supposed to be; perched on Batman's shoulder, hiding in his cape, or fighting by his side. You still hope there's a normal boy behind the mask, going to school and making friends with someone to tuck him in at night, but you also can't imagine anything normal about Robin, and maybe that's why he needs to be by Batman's side, and maybe that's why Batman needs him too.

[ellecdc]

can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up

so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~

poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader

“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”

Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.

“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.

“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 

“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.

Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.

There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.

He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you. 

He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar. 

“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face. 

“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.

“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.

Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”

Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.

“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.

“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.

“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.

“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum. 

“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.

“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you. 

Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.

“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.

You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.

“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.

“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”

Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”

You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t  entirely convinced. 

“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.

“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”

Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”

If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.

“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated. 

“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.

“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds. 

Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his. 

“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.

Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.

James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.

“We’re so lucky.” James commented.

Remus couldn’t help but agree.

[na0koz]

Moving in with jinx hcs? Like imagine how fucking insane she’d be getting to be around you 24/7 365

mention of name carving (sh)

lmfaooo omg she’d be like triple crazy.

toxic!jinx masterlist

- jinx following you would tone down a bit. every time you go out she’d just come with you. but if it was something she couldn’t tag along to, like meeting a friend or work or something, she’d still follow you. she’d just make sure to be home before you so you don’t get suspicious.

- the first few days weeks of you moving in with her she was just so excited to have you with her. literally clinging to you the whole time, trailing after you everywhere.

- you peeling her off you before you go to the bathroom. jinx whining outside the door about how she misses you until you come out.

- when you first arrived, her kitchen was coincidentally stocked with every single one of your favourite foods, only a few of which you’d actually told her about. jinx acts like they’re her favourites too to explain why she has them but the truth is, she can’t stomach most of them and she’s the most picky eater there is.

- she’ll literally buy you a new house if you don’t like a single aspect of hers. if you find her bed uncomfortable she’ll buy a new mattress, whatever. she wants you to want to stay.

- gets you gifts like every week. could have bought you something nice or made you something, even just a nice shaped rock that she thought you’d like.

- sometimes jinx thinks she’s dreamt your entire relationship. she can’t really believe she’s managed to bag someone like you and sometimes you catch her pinching or slapping herself, trying to see if this is all real or not.

- in all honesty i think she’s carved your name into her skin at least once. she really makes an effort for you not to see and it’s basically the only time she’s not clinging to you, because she knows you will definitely figure out how crazy she is if you do see.

- i’m pretty sure she has bpd? (like in the show) so she will freak the fuck out if you say something or act in a way that makes her think you’re mad at her or don’t like her anymore. locks herself in the bathroom for hours until you coax her out.

- she’s grateful for you being there to look after her when she gets depressed too. before you lived together, she would sometimes disappear for days at a time but now you’re there to help her feel better.

- sometimes jinx lets you choose what she wears that day. she wants to look as pretty as she can be and she thinks you’ll find her prettier if you choose her outfit (you find her pretty either way but you won’t tell her that).

- sleeps with her make up on. one time you cleaned it off for her, wiping the smudged purple and black shadow off her eyes. she was awake but she let you do it. now she sleeps with her eye makeup still on on purpose so you’ll clean it off. no matter how many times you tell her not to.

- has a piece of your hair in a jar that she cut off in your sleep. maybe even has it braided with a lock of her own hair she cut off especially.

- watches you sleep most nights. she barely sleeps yet is somehow full of energy all the time. no one knows how she does it. you catch her ‘resting her eyes’ sometimes but you’ve only seen her actually sleeping in bed at night like once or twice.

- is a bit weird about laundry. she’s volunteered for it to be her job to “take it off your hands” but behind the kind act, you fail to notice that a couple of items of your clothing take a little longer to return. panties (obviously), shirts, anything. anything with your smell on she’ll take and do whatever with while you’re out of the house.

- she has a lot of jewellery and lets you wear it as another way of claiming you.

- the only problem with you living with her is that she has to hide all of the stuff she’s taken from you in the past, the pictures of you and the notebooks filled with your every move to somewhere you definitely won’t find them. she absolutely cannot have you finding them. maybe she keeps them in your old apartment using the key she made for it. hopefully you don’t have a reason to go back there.

- all in all i think she’d be good to live with. she knows everything you like and will literally do anything for you.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Contained Monster Family (4)

Part One • Two •Three

“Now as we begin your examination, you cannot cut, snap, outwardly threaten, vocalize aggressively to the guards present. The same actions towards me will result in a 40 hours subject to forceful neutralization. So do you agree to the terms?”

The Werewolf sends a look at the shaking operator holding the gate 

He nods, standing on the authorized mark while the guards pour in before you

“Clear!”

You enter with the scientists trained to maintain the upkeep of the werewolf

Keeping their observations to themselves, you keep the werewolf’s attention

You figure you’d like being distracted while you were being poked and prodded at (not like that would ever happen to you though)

“So how’s your morning been Rod?”

“I’m doing much better than usual.”

“That’s good. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Is your Uncle blood-related to you?”

The question has you tilt your head to the side

Rod and Villar agreed that to release their human child from this evil facility they’d have to make you question everything

That way you’ll be more inclined to help them when they decide to leave

“He is. Are you curious because he’s so different then I?”

Rod fully planned to question you further specifically about your origin but a well almost perfectly+ timed deep extraction of hair had him wincing and the test being concluded

“Thanks for your cooperation Rod? You cool with the same thing next week?”

“In exchange for the time I get to spend with Villar?”

“Yes!”

“Can you…join us next time?”

You’re about to head out of the enclosure when you stop

“What do you need a mediator for you two?”

Rod doesn’t respond to your snark, just waiting intensely for your answer

Which you fully step out of the enclosure walking around to your usual window

“Sorry Rod but I’m no counselor and I’m strictly forbidden from speaking to more than one of our…’guests’ without an immediate threat of termination...on your end.”

Rod refused to show the despair that washed over him 

While he wasn’t known for all the decades he lived to let his mind imagine what could be his husband did

And when they last were able to communicate Villar had gushed about what it’d be like if they could both look down at you together again and somehow spark the memory of your childhood with them

Alas that didn’t seem possible unless either of them wanted to possibly get sniped by the real monster that they suspect was behind them losing you all those years ago

“Don’t look so upset. If it matters that much to you, I’ll look at the video recordings.”

Now that was something they could work with

[bengals-barnesbabe]

My Type

~ a blurb I came up with at 3:33 am

TW: suggestive fluff & not exactly a blurb

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ✳︎ 𓏸 ˙₊ ❊ 𓈒 𓇬 ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

Hard Knocks, the show surround your favorite team that has either become the bane of your existence or an absolute treasure. Either way, one clip of your personal friend, Joe Burrow, driving a golf cart has yet to leave your mind.

The golf cart itself wasn’t special. Nor were the practice outfits of the four players riding in it. It was just Joe. And the way he drove it.

It was carefree, fluid, and almost too much. Not too much for him, obviously; you haven’t seen anything that’s been proven to be too much for him. It was too much for you.

He just looked so soft. Warm Bengals beanie atop his blonde curls with only the pink-tinted flesh of his earlobe poking out. His strong arms covered a black long-sleeved tee. It was cute.

What wasn't cute was the way his thick thighs filled his grey pants to the point that you could see each muscle in his long legs. Or his defined jawline and cold-flushed cheeks that sit on the border between just hot and ridiculously hot.

You'd never felt this way about the quarterback. In the years of knowing him and being friends, it never crossed your mind that Joey Burrow was seductively handsome. He'd always been handsome but like a picture-perfect handsome. You could tell why he was a heartthrob; you just never felt the intense heart-pumping yourself.

Then you watched him lick his lips while reversing a golf cart, slide his left hand into his pocket, and drive off with one hand on the wheel.

One simple act after another, but done in a sequence with all the additional factors to create a moment that had you dumbstruck.

Dumbstruck and questioning every interaction you'd had with him as you watched the 12-second clip over and over and over again. One video cannot change how you see someone you've known for years with such ease.

And you were right. It wasn't just the Hard Knocks clip; it was the many saved videos of him mic'ed up on your phone, the overwatched and much-appreciated clip of his 47-yard rushing touchdown, the infamous Body Armour ads, the Bose ads, the Alo clip of him just running that take up space on your iPhone 14 Pro and show no sign of being deleted.

You thought you were in the clear because you never saved the videos or edits of him being outwardly seductive and hot. No photos of him shirtless or with sweat dripping down his beefy body as he works out. No, you started away from them, always at arm's length with items of temptation.

Or were you?

"What are you watching?" His deep timbre causes you to throw your phone in the most guilty manner. You both watch wide-eyed as it bounces on the carpet until it's thankfully faced down in the middle of his living room.

Joe turns to you, his face growing red as he holds back his laugh. "Was it really that bad?" He asks, releasing his giggles hostage.

Instead of responding, his cute chuckles fill your ears and warm your heart, making it thump just a little bit harder. Because since when was his laugh so cute?

The sound of your name flowing off his pink, pouty lips and the way your heart skips a beat brings you back to the present.

"Huh?"

"Huh? That's all you can say?" He smirks, looks down at the phone, then at you, then back to the phone.

The next thing you know, you're both diving for the phone. It's almost comedic how panicked your face looks compared to him as he swipes your phone and turns it over like buried treasure. All the dramatics just to see his face fall because you have auto-lock on, which is the biggest feeling of relief off your shoulders.

"I was so close." He sighs.

"Sorry, Joey Wheels, you just weren't fast enough." You chuckled taking the phone from his outreached hand.

He chuckles lightly, "You know, I am gonna figure out exactly what had you so awestruck." As another stroke of luck, his phone starts ringing. "Just not today."

~ Night of Broncos @ Bengals Game ~

You were stressed but relieved following the aftermath of what that game did to you. Especially being at the stadium, it was like every minute that passed would end you. You like being kept on your toes, but not that much. As soon as the game was over and you could relax, you got a simple text from Joe.

MVP: stick around, let me drive you home

It was innocent; it wouldn't be the first time he's given you a ride home after a game, and it probably wouldn't be the last. You always preferred public transport because of how close you live to the city, so his offer was out of pure generosity.

But why did such a simple text reignite that same anxiety and tension as you had during the game?

Was it because of these confused feelings you've kept in for a week?

Or the potential conversations that could be had over the 10-minute ride?

Then you thought back to his pregame fit and visibly shivered, but it had nothing to do with the slight chill in the stadium.

Joe walked into the stadium in an all-black outfit: simple black jeans, black sneakers, a brown and black checkered bottega jacket, and one of his signature black shades. He looked the most fuckable, you have ever seen him- and this was after his slim shady tank top look.

Now you're imagining sitting next to him in his sleek Porsche, his jacket unzipped to the middle of his chest, definitely exposing his sexy-ass idea not to wear a shirt underneath it. But that's not even the worst part; you can keep yourself calm enough by just not making eye contact.

No, the worst part is now, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the shades sit on his head, and his fucking hand is inches away from your thigh.

Your exposed thigh, because after hearing how nice the weather would be for the game, you decided to put on some heavily distressed black skinny jeans. His fingers are practically causing their own electrical current as they graze your soft brown skin. And to top it off, he's wearing his signature smirk.

Because he always knows exactly what he's doing and how to get a reaction out of you.

"Out with it, Bur- His hand slips, and he grasps your thigh during a sharp break at a red light, then he looks over at you.

"Sorry about that," He smiles, lying through his perfectly pearly teeth. "Didn't want anything to happen to you, pretty girl."

You stared at him in pure disbelief. “You did that on purpose.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because you know something.” He looks away, but you catch the light chuckle he lets out. “I don’t appreciate you torturing me just because you don’t feel the same way.”

“I never-

“You didn’t have to, just-

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Here you are, sitting at a red light, surrounded by the oddly quiet city, with Joe’s pillowy soft lips melting against your own.

When he breaks away, the light is green but the only thing moving is his hand against your cheek.

“I do feel the same way. I always have. It’s you who’s been taking over a year to figure it out.” He says softly brushing his thumb over your lips.

You lean in almost closing the distance between you. “I really like you, Joe.”

The light turns red again, effectively blending with the bright blush across his face. “Thank god, cause I’ve been dressing like a complete slut to games trying to get your attention. I was debating just showing up to your place just sweaty and shirtless.”

The car turns into a bubble of laughter as you lean back against the window trying to clam yourself down with the coolness from the outside. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride. You’re watching the city lights pass by while he drives safely down the streets, slow enough because he knows how much you love the view and so he can unashamedly glimpse over at your beauty.

Minutes later you’re walking hand in hand up to your apartment. “You know…” You bite back a smirk as you reach the door.

“What?” He raises a brow, pulling your hand to his lips.

The simple act warms your skin in a way he wouldn’t be able to notice unless you were grinning like a fool. Which you were.

You can’t help but giggle your next words out. “Your plan of showing up sweaty and shirtless would’ve worked too.”

He lightly scoffs with a timid smile on his face. “Same goes for you, princess. If I had known me driving one handed turned you on so much… well you wouldn’t have thrown your phone across the room a few weeks back.” He smirks cupping your jaw and placing a light kiss on your forehead.

“You’re such a tease.”

He chuckles darkly, tilting your head and leaning down until you’re sharing one breath. “That’s the whole point, sweetheart.”

⤜♡→

main masterlist

[starlostseungmin]

whispers ─── lee felix.

✰ notes : first of all i'd like to announce that i reached 3k friends here! thank you so much for that and i appreciate every single one of you! <33 anyway if you watched ABOUT TIME movie, you are already familiar with this scene because it's inspired by it. i just made a bit of changes and with felix in it so i hope you guys like it (this is not proofread btw) also, please DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading! thank you <33

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji

masterlist | taglist.

felix went home a bit late that one saturday night after work. he had to see the movie he promised to watch with jeongin at the cinema. you bailed out after he invited you when he mentioned he got tickets and made a reason to sleep on a day off. he parted ways with jeongin around the block and walked home, alone. 

it was cold, he could see the smoke coming out from his mouth as his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacketーthe stars were illuminating the dark sky with a few clouds in sight but his eyes wandered around the streets. he was supposed to take the train back to your shared apartment but didn’t want to be disrupted by noisy passengers with loud music banging their ears from their earphones and he tried to take some time to think. 

you’ve been dating for the past three years and it has been amazing. he never felt so happy and contented. the joy cannot be compared to any other things. it was that time when the two of you met at a diner just outside the office where you were working. the purpose was to grab dinner and go home then, this wonderful man showed up who had gotten the love at first sight experience. an opportunity came in and a conversation. he invited you to dates every weekend until the feelings got deeper after getting to know each other for weeks, made the relationship official with labels, and decided to live together. 

for the past three years, it was magical as it made tons of memories that you and felix couldn’t write every single one of them in your journal. the polaroids that were taken are hanging on the walls of your room with dates written on each one of them. those plushies he won for you sat on the shelves, the books being piled up being read or untouched, the albums from your favorite artists being displayed on the table along with the music player and vinyl, the flowers on the vases, the letters and other gifts you’ve exchangedーit was sweet. 

having this amazing relationship with felix is like reading a book without a synopsis or a summary from the covers or even the first pages. you don’t know what’s going to happen. it’s like living every day and there are things you cannot control. it’s either you read and go on with the story with curiosity and braveness or do not read the book at all and miss a series of events that could change your life. yet, you chose to read the book and the author created a love story you could ask for. it did change your life as well as felix’s but one thing’s for sure, there are a lot of trials on the way but it would start by holding your hands together to make a stronger bond, just like how chemical bonds create structures. 

he went inside as quietly as possible as he didn’t want to ruin your slumber. the lights were switched off in the living room and only the entrance’s light censor made him see through the dark as he removed his shoes. 

felix has thought of all the possibilities and the impossible, the rights and wrongs, the obstacles and smooth ways while walking. the consistency of this relationship must remain and be locked. he knew it wouldn’t be fancy but he promised himself that he’ll do it in a way that the two of you would prefer. and now, he’s here, looking at your sleeping figure being wrapped around that white duvet. 

“baby,” he called softly as he shook your shoulder lightlyーkneeling down on the carpeted floor of your room. 

“hmm?” you hummed in response. “five more minutes.” you muttered making him let out a soft chuckle. 

“no, baby, wake up,” he said. “i have something important to ask,” 

your eyes flutter open, from a blurry vision to a clear frame directed at his face. a smiley felix welcomed you as he caressed your hair when you were about to sit up. 

“no, just lay down,” he said. 

“okay,” you smiled. “what is it?” you asked, feeling relaxed on your soft mattress and the coziness of your pillow. 

“you know that we’re happy, right?” he paused as you nodded in response. “i don’t know if it’s the movie i watched with jeongin that made me feel this way, it's always the romance genre that would hit me to reality and the thought that i always have you by my side—” he added when you put your index finger on his lips, hearing a piece of romantic music playing gently from the living room as it echoes through the open door of your room. 

“is that romantic music?” you asked. “and you’re on your knees while saying something that i doubt is not just a love confession,” you added while fighting to stay awake which felix laughed shyly. 

“yeah,” he said, licking his lower lip in embarrassment. “i am,” 

“go on,” you smiled. 

“will you marry me?” he asked which made your smile bigger and now you’re fully awake. 

“i think,” you paused, clearing your throat. “i’m going to say, yes to that,” you added, looking at him in awe, saying; “and thank you for doing this that does not involve a lot of people and other crowds. i don’t like many people,” 

felix smiled gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before tracing his fingers on your cheeks, “i also don’t like people,” he said. “thank you for saying yes,” he whispered before leaning forward to kiss you again. 

“i love you, darling,” you said in between. 

“i love you more,” he answered. “get back to sleep, alright? i’ll join you in 10,” 

“okay,” you said softly as he smiled, leaving a kiss on your forehead before exiting the room shushing han and seungmin for playing the instruments he asked for support outside. 

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[mountainficss]

!! mentions of: masturbation, handjobs

still thinking of classmate!jeonghan that would just continue to become even more obsessed with you after spending so much time around you. would constantly sneak glances at your pretty face while he works next to you and would definitely brush his hand against yours a few times a day claiming it “was an accident.” you definitely didn’t believe him though because it wasn’t anything close to an accident. he does it all the time! and even that little bit of skin-to-skin contact would send a jolt of excitement up his spine. i swear he’d constantly find ways to touch you. prying your hand open to place his little sticky note drawings in it (and proceeding to hold your hand a bit longer than necessary). playing with your hair by twirling it around his finger, sometimes even braiding a piece if you’re in a generous mood. any little touch he’ll take because he fucking likes you. he’d think about those touches all day, even at night when he’s alone in his dorm and touching himself. he feels a bit guilty about it but he just cannot get you out of his head. he’d do just about anything for you he’s so whipped.

he’d even invite you to his dorm to do some studying for your exams, and would definitely be beaming when you told him yes. he definitely hadn’t expected you to accept his offer, but he figured he must have caught you on one of your more generous days. but you’d secretly grown a small liking to him too even though you’d never tell him that.

you’d sit on his bed with him, both of you going through the study materials together and having little conversations in between. you’d be sitting so close your arm would be touching his, but of course jeonghan wouldn’t move. he’s embarrassed by it, but he’s already feeling hard just from the sensation of your skin against his. he’d get a bit restless next to you, squirming a bit and trying his best to hide the growing tent in his sweats. you’d notice his constant shifting and shoot him a glare. “what’s your deal?” you’d snap, but stop yourself when you notice his slightly flushed face and his eyes seemingly focused on something below him. you’d follow his gaze down to his heaving chest and his very obvious erection. your eyes would widen as you mutter a small “oh.” he’d look at you with a look you’ve never seen from him before, a dazed stare filled with desire. “i like you.” he’d mumble, his eyes trailing down to your lips and back up again. “you know that, right?” he’d continue, his voice sounding almost hypnotic to you. “i know,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes and feeling your cheeks heat up. you’d feel his hand sliding over to your hand resting on your thigh, entwining his pinky with yours. the gesture was surprisingly intimate and it sent a chill across your skin. “can i show you?” he asked gently. you met his eyes again, his stare making you feel hot. “show me what?” you’d question, fighting back the urge to play with his pretty locks of hair. “how much i like you.” you blushed even harder, nodding gently after a moment of hesitation. you felt his free hand cup your cheek, pulling you closer to his lips. you met him halfway and your lips met in a gentle kiss, so gentle it gave you swarms of butterflies in your stomach. jeonghan could hardly control his butterflies either, his heart would be pounding and his mind would be racing with thoughts of how he’s kissing the person he’s absolutely obsessed with. he’d kiss you harder, untangling his pinky with yours to entwine your hands. he’d make the cutest little sounds when you kiss him back just as hard. you’d both pull away breathless and he’d ask “can i show you more?” you’d nod, not trusting your voice to carry out without cracking or stuttering. “wanna show you how bad you fuck me up.” he’d release your hand and untie the string of his sweatpants, bringing them down along with his boxers just enough so his cock springs out. his breath would hitch as his hard length hits his stomach, breathing heavily as you watch in awe. how can someone have a pretty face and a pretty cock? he’d carefully wrap his hand around it, stroking it slowly. little gasps would escape his lips as he pleasures himself in front of you. “please,” he’d gasp, reaching his hand out to lace his fingers with yours again. he’d squeeze you a bit tighter now, running his thumb over your hand lovingly. his precum would immediately make his cock slick, the wet sounds of his hand stroking himself would fill the room and make both of you blush. “this is how much i like you,” he whimpered, his hand gripping his cock tighter and stroking a bit faster. “this is what you do to me. i think about you a lot. all the time. i can’t stop.” he’d admit, slightly throwing his head back due to the overwhelming pleasure of his movements and you watching him. you’d reach your free hand around his body, wrapping it around the head of his cock and twisting gently while he strokes what your hand can’t reach. your action makes him let out a pornographic moan, his head lolling to the side onto your shoulder for support. “gonna cum—fuck, want you so bad…” he’d moan, his hips unconsciously fucking up into your fist. “show me,” you’d plead, absolutely entranced by the erotic expression on his face. “yeah?” he whispered, “i’ll show you. wanna show you everything.” he’d wince, feeling his orgasm approaching.

his hips would buck up, his release hitting him quickly as he spilled his seed all over both his hand and yours. his moans would be so loud, so dirty as you help him ride out his orgasm. throughout the whole thing his free hand would still be interlaced with yours and he’d keep absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across your skin again </3 he’d take deep breaths trying to calm down from possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had while you press a small kiss to his head, making him grin like an idiot.

“you kissed me.”

“don’t get used to it, okay? i’m feeling generous today.”

“i really fucking like you.”

“i know.”

even though you refuse to admit it out loud too soon, you like him too and he absolutely knows <333

[kernsing]

never over the fact that han yoohyun remains also a victim of child neglect/abandonment/having adult responsibilities foisted upon him too young even as he grows up under yoojin’s care. it’s not yoojin’s fault, he did his best and he did good raising yoohyun but. you’re not supposed to be able to hurt your parent, you’re not supposed to learn how to manage your parent’s emotions/wellbeing/public image, you’re not supposed to have to fear for their physical safety and desperately try to figure out a way to protect them, you’re not supposed to be capable of real cruelty toward them, not supposed to be able to fuck up their life. but your parent is your brother who is only five years older than you, and suddenly the new and dangerous world demands you (you who are new and dangerous too) in its spotlight, and you are just a child and he was just a child. the world is so wholly unjust to both of them and i will never fault either for how their relationship was in shambles for three/eight years, even when han yoohyun makes his terrible decisions with terrible consequences, paving the road to hell. you’re not supposed to be able to hurt your parent like that. you’re not supposed to be a brother that he needs to rely on, just as much as you rely on him, both of you abandoned.

haven’t even mentioned yet how you’re not really human you don’t understand humans you try your best for your brother but you Don’t Get It, how and why society works and the full emotional harm its hatred can wreak. you might see it but you don’t get it like physical danger and there is so much of that latter danger in the world now. you might see him and keep tabs on him but you don’t get your brother, that he needs you like you need him because of the very fact that you need him and children realizing their parents are complete emotional beings is not something that should happen before you learn to stand on your own. and learning to stand on your own, paradoxically and inevitably, takes much longer when you are forced to grow up too fast. you are forced to mature too early and so you are immature in ways invisible. so many flavors of terrible responsibilities foisted upon them that no one should ever bear (raising a child while you are a child/the world is on fire and so are you/your parent also needs you to bear your shared emotional burden).

it’s so unfair. i’m bundling them both up in a blanket. han yoojin’s childhood was stolen away so he could give this simulacrum of a childhood to his brother but the world is terrible and yoojin is just a child too and it’s not possible it’s not his fault that the wonderful beautiful childhood he built is not, cannot be the bulwark in the face of brutal reality, that delicate childhood shaped by hands still so small too.

[deathbxnny]

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.