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prael · 1 day ago

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Day 10: Gambit

Nmixx Lily x male reader smut

words: 3,300 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"Ah Fuck," Lily sighed, fiddling with her hair.

Stylists spent hours doing her hair, makeup, nails, clothes, all for the camera. Lily just knows how good she looked today. The stylists did their jobs, but she did hers too. She put her face into that angle that she knew drove people crazy. She is a professional, even if she wishes she wasn't.

She waited for hours backstage. Lily waited and waited. They all did. All of the group were just sitting there, in that green room, playing on their phones. There wasn't much to do except wait, take a nap, or eat snacks if the managers would let them. If Lily had her way, she'd eat nothing but those little chocolate-covered pretzels. “They're so good,” she always tells you.

Eventually, she had to get up on stage, stand around and smile. Then came the dance and the singing, that stuff. The usual routine, the usual performance, the same one they'd done hundreds of times. It was a dance that was burned into her muscle memory. She didn't have to think, it was like she wasn't even in control of her own body. She hit every fucking note like the pro that she is, and everyone cheered.

It's not that Lily is ungrateful. She is grateful! She knows she has a lot. But... she just couldn't help but feel a bit unsatisfied.

Like there is some huge hole inside her, and she just can't seem to fill it.

Like there's some other way she's supposed to be living.

The rest of the show goes as expected. People clap. Everyone takes pictures and videos. And they're off the stage. It's a short ride back to their apartment. They eat, they shower, they go to sleep.

Most of them do, anyway.

Lily is pulling on a hoodie and sweatpants. She is putting on a hat and pulling it low over her eyes before fitting a face mask over her mouth and nose. Lily doesn't look at herself in the mirror, and she leaves her phone in the apartment, keeping only her wallet on her as she leaves. She finds your car where it's always parked. Lily doesn't know what she'd do if you weren't waiting for her there.

"Hi, babe," you greet her. "Good day?"

"Yeah, sure," Lily grumbles, rolling her eyes. She is in a pissy mood, but that's nothing new these days. It takes time for her to adjust to being free again and to be happy now that you're around. She isn't angry at you. Lily's angry at everything else. She knows that you know that, too.

"What do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I just want to get drunk," she sighs. She's still in a bad mood. You know what will help with that.

You know it's not the answer. The bottom of a bottle never solves anything. Yet, you still took the time earlier in the day to pick up her favourite bottle of wine, and you know it's waiting for her at your apartment.

So that's where you take her. She's a little less tense once you get her inside. She's kicking off her shoes at the door, pulling off her mask and tossing it away, throwing off the hat, her hair falling free to her shoulders. Her eyes close, and she lets out a long sigh. It's almost like she can finally relax here. Like the tension can drain away and she can just... stop.

"Lily, babe, you know I love you so this comes from a good place, and I know you love singing and dancing, but you don't have to be an idol if it makes you so unhappy." You say to her. She's looking at you like she wants to scream at you. She knows that she can scream at you, that you'd take it. That's what she loves about you.

But she doesn't scream, Lily only contemplates what you have said. She takes her time, letting her anger subside, her body relax and her mind to calm down. "I can't just leave. I don't even want to leave. I just want a break." Lily doesn't know how else to put it. "Like, maybe if I got hurt, or sick, or even pregnant. They'd make me take time off."

You know that Lily is only half-serious, but she sounds like she's thought this over before, and she has.

"You'd be a cute mom." You tell her, and she is bright red in an instant, the blush on her cheeks darkening her face.

"Hell yeah, I can fulfil my dream of being a milf," Lily playfully says, and for the first time today, she cracks a genuine smile before heading for the wine rack. She quickly finds her favourite.

"I'll be the stay-at-home dad while mommy is out strutting her stuff on stage." You tease, wrapping your arms around Lily's waist, holding her from behind.

She chuckles and pours the wine into the glass. "Imagine the controversy too. A big middle finger to all those delulu fans." Lily is giggling to herself as she drinks. "That'd make it so worth it. They'd lose their minds."

"Everyone would go insane. An active idol having a kid? That'd be crazy." You add to the conversation. Lily is looking at you with this smirk that is so uniquely her. She looks a bit like the devil when she does it, but it is so fucking cute at the same time.

Lily turns to you with the straightest of faces. In an uncharacteristically deadpan tone, she says, "Put a baby in me." Her lips twitch. You know that she's fighting the urge to smile.

You can't help it. You laugh, and you kiss her. Lily's mouth is warm from the wine. She is sweet and fragrant. She tastes so damn good.

"Put a baby in me!" She laughs into your mouth, but she is still trying to kiss you, and you're still trying to kiss her. It's all very chaotic. Your hands are still on her waist, her fingers on her glass, and she's trying to press herself against you, and you're trying to press against her.

She puts down the wine and then her arms are around your neck. "Come on," she says between kisses, "let's make a baby." It's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. Lily knows it's ridiculous, but that's why it's funny, and why you're still kissing each other. Her fingers are running through your hair and you're grabbing at her ass. She's pulling away just to smile at you, and you can't help but smile back at her. Lily is a ray of sunshine.

"Fuck," she whispers as you lean in, and you kiss her again. "Come on," she repeats and then starts pulling at your shirt. You help her take it off, tossing it away, not caring where it lands. "We're gonna make a baby, right?" She's looking into your eyes, and you can see how eager she is. "You're gonna cum in me?"

The two of you are no strangers to a little bit of roleplay, but this feels like it has transcended the norm. It feels different, it feels real, it feels serious, even if it isn't. Is it?

"Yes," you say, kissing her neck. "Yes," you say, kissing her collarbones. "Yes," you whisper as you pull her hoodie up and over her head.

She's not wearing anything underneath. She's never been much of a fan of bras or underwear. You love seeing her like this, bare, naked. She has the most beautiful pair of breasts, the perfect size for her petite body. She is all smooth curves and long, elegant lines, like the figure of a woman that has been drawn and then come to life.

"I'm not joking," Lily whispers into your ear as she wraps her arms around you. Her soft breasts are pressing against you, and she is kissing you on your neck and shoulders. "I want a break. I'm so sick and tired of it." Her hot breath is in your ear and she gently bites the lobe. "I want to be a mother."

"Fuck, Lily..." You breathe as your hands slip into her sweats and find her ass. Firm flesh and smooth skin. Her hips press into your body, and her hand comes down to your cock. She's groping you through your pants and she is squeezing and rubbing and tugging, and it's making you so hard.

"It's not the first time we've talked about kids. We want one. Why wait?" She asks you as she slips her hand into your pants and grabs hold of your cock, pumping it. Lily's hands are so soft, so warm.

"It's insane. You could be forced to leave the group," you remind her. But you can feel it, too, that desire. It is growing in you, just as surely as you are in Lily's palm. It's like she's cast a spell over you and you're falling into some deep trance.

"I know," she groans into your mouth, "I wouldn't be the first to leave, though." She reminds you, her voice growing breathless and excited. Her eyes are half-lidded. You can tell how aroused she is, and it's only making you harder.

"You'd really risk it?" You ask, squeezing her ass.

"I need this." Lily insists, looking at you. Her eyes are pleading. You can't say no to that face. You'd do anything for her, and you'd never deny her anything.

She's pulling down your pants and your underwear at the same time, and she is sinking to her knees before you. Her hands are holding your cock, stroking and fondling, her fingers dancing over the length of your dick and the swell of your balls.

Lily is looking at you. Her lips are parted, her tongue running along them, leaving a trail of spit behind. "Please," she whispers, and then she's licking you, tasting you, teasing you.

Your fingers are threading through her hair and you are holding her head steady as you guide yourself into her mouth. You watch her lips wrap around your cock as she takes it in her mouth, inch by inch.

Her tongue is pressing against the underside of your dick as she slowly slides forward. Lily takes more and more of you into her mouth, the hot, wet, heat of her throat taking the very last inch. She moans around your cock and you feel her tongue swirling around you as you start thrusting. She is sucking and swallowing around your cock. You're watching her head bob as she works your length, taking you to the very base, her lips kissing your crotch. She pulls off of you and takes a deep breath and she looks at you. There is a trail of spit on her chin, connecting to your cock.

"I want a baby," Lily repeats. You don't think she has ever been so insistent on something before. Her hands come to your hips as she pulls you to her, and she takes your cock back into her mouth, sucking you and bobbing her head. She's taking you in all the way and gagging on your dick. Her eyes are closed as she focuses on sucking you off, and her fingers dig into your flesh as she holds onto you.

"You're going to be such a good mommy," you tell her, and you hear her moan in response.

Lily's head keeps bobbing and you keep thrusting, meeting in the middle. You are so deep down her throat, the tip of your cock kissing the back of it and you're throbbing. You're trying to weigh it up in your head, possibly the biggest decision of your life and it's fighting for brainpower with having your soul sucked out of your cock. It's hard to concentrate.

Lily's tongue swirls and her cheeks cave in as she sucks. Her eyes are open now, and she's looking up at you, pleading, begging for you to let her have her way. Even with your cock between them, the corners of her lips turn up into a smirk. She pulls away and gasps for air, saliva dripping down her chin.

She's still stroking you off as you groan and your legs tremble, but she isn't finished. Lily stands back up and looks you in the eye. She's still stroking your cock in her hands, pumping up and down. Her thumb rubs the tip, teasing and playing. "Put it in me, please."

"Are you sure about this?" You ask her one last time, but you're already pushing her sweatpants away from her hips, and down to the floor.

"Absolutely," Lily says and turns away. She bends over and braces herself on the kitchen counter, arching her back. Such a beautiful, elegant posture. The defined muscles of her back lead down to her cute, perfect ass. A smooth curve of soft skin, firm and pert, but inviting. Your hand comes down, caressing and squeezing that lovely ass. Her hips rock as she presses into your touch.

Lily reaches a hand back and her fingers find her pussy, rubbing and stroking. She is spreading her lower lips and showing off her wet hole. "I'm ready." She moans.

Your fingers slip into her cunt and you're thrusting, plunging into her. She is hot, and slick, her walls clenching. She feels amazing and you're desperate to get inside of her, to fuck her. Lily gasps and her hips rock against your hand as she pushes herself onto your fingers. Her hair swings wildly and her mouth is hanging open. Her breasts sway as her body writhes, her stomach flexing and her hips bucking.

"Fuck," she breathes, and her voice is low, and her tone is desperate. She is panting, her breath ragged and laboured. "Fuck me."

Your hand slips from Lily's pussy, leaving her feeling empty, wanting, needing more. Your hands come down to her hips and you're pulling her to you, your cock resting between her cheeks, hard and throbbing and aching to be inside her. "Tell me what you want." You insist. Your fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, spreading and revealing. You're rocking your hips, teasing her.

"I want you to breed me," she insists, craning her neck back to look at you. Her face is flushed. She is sweating. Her body is burning up, feverishly hot, her skin glistening and shining in the light. She looks so damn sexy, and she knows it. "Please, fuck a baby into me," she moans and turns back away, closing her eyes.

You line yourself up with her entrance, rubbing your tip against her. This is the final line, and once you cross it, there's no going back. You push yourself into her, her cunt spreading open for you as you sink in. She's tight around your cock, squeezing, milking, trying to pull you in.

Lily is gasping and moaning as you push into her, inch by inch. You reach the base of your shaft, her ass pressed against your body. "Yes!" She hisses. Her hands grip the counter, her fingers clawing into it.

"You like that?" You ask, and you begin to pull out of her.

"Please, more." She moans. "Please, fuck me," Lily begs.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her hips as you hold her in place. Your hips are rocking, pulling back. You're leaving her, almost, only the head of your cock still inside of her, and you're pushing yourself back inside of her, fucking into her. Your pace is slow, but each thrust is powerful. She's squeezing and clenching, trying to pull you in further.

"I'm going to fill you up, babe," you promise, leaning down to whisper in Lily's ear as she lays over the kitchen counter, your bodies connected.

Lily moans, "Please," she gasps, pushing her hips back into your body as you thrust. "Breed me like the daddy you are." Her voice is low, her tone husky and breathless, and her words pure filth.

Your hand is coming down, smacking her on her ass and she is crying out, a sharp gasp of surprise. Her hips rock as she presses onto you, trying to meet your thrusts and pull you deeper inside of her.

"Fuck," she moans and you can hear the smile on her lips, and you're smacking her again, the loud slap of skin-on-skin ringing out in the room.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask, fucking into her, picking up speed and intensity. Your body is smacking against hers, and her body is shaking.

"Harder, Daddy," Lily moans. Your hand comes down, hitting her ass, leaving a mark on the firm skin. You're thrusting, pounding, pulling back and slamming into her again and again. Her hand comes back, reaching around, her fingers digging into your hips. She wants to keep you inside her. "Please, don't stop."

You are pushing into her, fucking her hard. Her breasts are shaking and her stomach is tensing, and her hips are bucking back and forth as you thrust in and out of her. Her hair is flying everywhere as she throws her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. Her lips are parted, her tongue running across them as she pants. You know that she is close to orgasm. "Cum in me," Lily gasps. Her eyes are rolling back, her body shaking and her hips bucking, her pussy clenching and pulsing. She is on the verge.

You're so close, so very close, and you know that you're going to cum. Your balls are tight, and you're aching for release. Your cock is throbbing, your legs trembling. You can feel the pressure building inside you. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You grunt. Your thrusts become more and more intense, your fingers digging into Lily's flesh.

"Do it," she moans. "Fill me up, make me pregnant."

You thrust, pushing in as deep as possible and holding it there, and you cum. Your cock pulses, your balls twitching as your seed floods into Lily. Your cum spills out and fills her up. You keep thrusting, rocking your hips against hers as you keep shooting, and it feels like an endless stream, an eternity of bliss. There's a finality to it. This is it. You've committed. There's no going back. Lily's pussy is milking your cock, squeezing and clenching around it as you pump her full of cum. It feels so damn good.

"Oh, god," Lily groans, and her body is shaking, and she is crying out in pure bliss as she cums with your cock deep inside her. All of her muscles flex as she writhes in pleasure. She's gasping, panting, her body convulsing. You're not sure you've ever seen Lily cum so hard, so intensely. You're holding her, pulling her tight to your body, keeping her steady as she quivers.

"Fuck," she breathes as she finally calms down, her body going limp in your arms. You're both panting, catching your breaths. You're still inside of her, and she clenches her pussy around your softening cock. "We have to keep doing this. Until we're sure I'm pregnant."

It is a nice image. The two of you fucking over the kitchen counter, or in bed, or on the couch, every chance you get. Cumming raw into her pussy over and over again. And once she's got a baby in her, you can fuck like this some more, you can keep making her feel this way. You can be happy.

"Yeah, we do," you agree. This was the right choice, the only choice. You love her. "Come here, mommy." You tell Lily, and she is giggling as she turns and wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you.

#Lily smut #Nmixx smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Lily x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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elryuse · 9 hours ago

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Evergarden Familia

Yandere Gahyeon X Male Reader

Tags : Mafia Boss Gahyeon, Dark Gritty Romance, Dominant Gahyeon, Blood n Gore, Submission, Forceful Sex, Branding, Creampie

Words : 7,5k

This is a Commission for My Friend @starconstruction on Tumblr and Ko-fi. Hope you Liked it Buddy.

Blood. The thick, metallic scent clung to the air like a curse, searing itself into Y/n's memory as he crouched behind the tattered sofa. He was seven years old, too young to understand why men with guns had stormed into his home, but old enough to know that his life would never be the same.

"Please!" his mother's voice cracked, raw with desperation. She shielded him with her frail body, her arms trembling as she pleaded. "We don't owe anything! We've paid everything back-please, don't hurt him!"

The man standing before her tilted his head, a smirk curling across his scarred face. Lee Sang-hyun, a name Y/n would never forget. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he looked more like a businessman than a killer, but his eyes-cold and devoid of mercy- betrayed his true nature.

"You think I care about your payments?" Sang-hyun sneered, his voice smooth yet laced with venom. He stepped closer, his polished shoes crushing broken glass beneath them. "This isn't about money. It's about power. And no one disrespects the 3 Crows."

Before Y/n could blink, Sang-hyun's fist crashed into his father's face. The sickening sound of bone breaking echoed through the small apartment. His father fell to the floor, coughing up blood, but he still tried to rise, defiance flickering in his eyes.

"Run, Y/n!" his father choked out, his voice a mix of pain and urgency.

But Y/n couldn't move. His legs felt like lead, his small hands clutching the sofa's fabric as if it could anchor him to safety. He wanted to run, to scream, to do something-but terror had paralyzed him.

"Stupid man," Sang-hyun muttered, wiping the blood from his knuckles. "Let's make sure your son learns what happens to those who defy us."

The next few minutes were a blur of violence. Sang-hyun didn't use a weapon; he didn't need one. His fists were brutal, his kicks merciless, and he seemed to relish every second of the beating. Y/n's mother screamed, trying to shield her husband, but Sang-hyun shoved her aside like she was nothing.

Y/n squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face. He didn't want to see, but the sounds were inescapable-the grunts of pain, the dull thuds of fists meeting flesh, the horrifying crack when his father's ribs gave way.

When it was over, silence fell.

"Clean this up," Sang-hyun ordered his men, gesturing to the broken bodies of Y/n's parents. His voice was calm, as if he had just finished a routine task.

"Boss," one of his underlings said, pointing to Y/n, who was now sobbing openly. "What about the kid?"

Sang-hyun turned his gaze to the trembling boy, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "Oh, he's coming with us. A little rat like him needs to learn his place in the world."

Two men grabbed Y/n by the arms, dragging him out of the apartment. He kicked and screamed, calling for his parents, but they were gone, their lifeless bodies lying in a pool of blood.

That night, Y/n's childhood ended.

The years that followed were a nightmare. Sang-hyun didn't kill Y/n-not yet. Instead, he broke him, shaping him into a weapon for the 3 Crows.

Beatings were a daily occurrence, accompanied by harsh training that pushed Y/n's body to its limits. He learned to fight, to steal, to kill. Failure was met with pain, success with indifference.

"You're not a person," Sang-hyun told him once, after forcing him to clean the blood off his first kill. "You're a tool. Tools don't have feelings. Tools obey."

Y/n hated him. He hated everything about the 3 Crows-their cold, ruthless hierarchy, their obsession with power, their complete disregard for human life. But hate wasn't enough to break free. Not yet.

By the time he was eighteen, Y/n had become one of the most feared enforcers in Seoul. His name was whispered in the underworld, his reputation as a silent, efficient killer unmatched. But no matter how many lives he took, the ghost of his parents haunted him, their blood staining his hands.

It was a rainy night when Sang-hyun gave him the order that would change everything.

"I have a job for you," Sang-hyun said, reclining in his leather chair. His office was lavish, filled with expensive furniture that contrasted sharply with his brutal nature.

Y/n stood before him, his expression blank. He had learned long ago that showing emotion was a weakness Sang-hyun exploited.

"What is it?" Y/n asked, his voice devoid of warmth.

"An S-class target," Sang-hyun replied, sliding a folder across the desk. "Jung-hwa. Chaebol heiress. But that's not the interesting part."

Y/n opened the folder, his sharp eyes scanning the documents. Jung-hwa was beautiful, with long dark hair and a confident smile that seemed out of place in the grim world of organized crime. But as he read further, he realized why Sang-hyun was so interested.

"She's part of the Delacroix family," Y/n muttered, his stomach twisting.

Sang-hyun grinned. "Exactly. Killing her would send a message to Gahyeon. It's time that tyrant queen learns not to mess with the 3 Crows."

Y/n's fingers tightened around the folder. The Delacroix were the 3 Crows' biggest rivals, a Mafia family just as ruthless and powerful. But Jung-hwa wasn't just a pawn in their game-she was a person, a young woman with her whole life ahead of her.

"Do it," Sang-hyun said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And don't screw this up. You know what happens if you fail."

Y/n nodded, his face a mask of calm, but inside, a storm raged. He didn't want to kill Jung-hwa. He didn't want to kill anyone anymore. But Sang-hyun's leash was tight, and disobedience meant death.

As he left the office, rain pouring down around him, Y/n felt the weight of his choice pressing down on his shoulders. He had two options: obey and lose what little humanity he had left, or rebel and risk everything.

In the end, he knew there was only one path he could take.

The rain hadn’t let up. Seoul’s neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting an eerie glow that matched the unease in Y/n’s chest. He stood in the shadows of a busy intersection, his hood pulled low as he watched her.

Jung-hwa.

She stood near the entrance of a luxury boutique, her bodyguards forming a tight perimeter around her. Even in the pouring rain, she exuded an air of elegance, her long black coat cinched at the waist, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked every bit the heiress she was—untouchable, radiant, and confident.

But Y/n knew better. No one in this world was untouchable.

For three days, he had stalked her, learning her routines, her quirks, and her vulnerabilities. He knew she preferred her coffee black with a single sugar cube. He knew she always stopped to feed the stray cats outside her apartment complex, even when she was running late. And he knew that beneath her polished exterior, there was a flicker of loneliness.

She reminded him too much of himself.

“Focus,” Y/n muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He couldn’t afford to humanize her. She was the target, nothing more.

Yet, as he trailed her through the crowded streets, he couldn’t suppress the guilt gnawing at him. She wasn’t like the other marks he’d been assigned to. Most of them were criminals, just as corrupt and ruthless as the 3 Crows. But Jung-hwa… she seemed different.

Still, Sang-hyun’s words echoed in his mind: “Don’t screw this up.”

Y/n clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He had to do it. If he didn’t, Sang-hyun would kill him—or worse, send someone else after her.

That evening, Jung-hwa returned to her penthouse in Gangnam, her guards sweeping the area before letting her inside. Y/n watched from a nearby rooftop, the scope of his sniper rifle trained on her balcony.

It would be so easy. One shot, and it would be over.

But his finger hesitated on the trigger.

Instead of pulling it, he lowered the rifle and pulled out his binoculars, watching her through the glass doors of her living room. She was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand as she flipped through a book. The sight was so ordinary, so human, that it made his chest tighten.

What was he doing? Was he really going to take another life just because Sang-hyun ordered him to?

Y/n’s mind raced. He thought about his parents, about the countless people he’d killed, about the weight of Sang-hyun’s control over him. He was tired—tired of being a tool, tired of the bloodshed, tired of losing pieces of himself with every mission.

He let out a shaky breath and packed up his rifle.

Not tonight.

The following day, Jung-hwa’s routine took her to a quiet park on the outskirts of the city. Y/n followed at a distance, blending seamlessly with the other pedestrians. She sat on a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree, watching the petals fall as she sipped her coffee.

Y/n approached cautiously, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this—why he was stepping out of the shadows instead of staying hidden. But something about her drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

Jung-hwa looked up, startled, but quickly composed herself. “It’s a public bench,” she replied, her tone polite but guarded.

Y/n sat down, leaving a respectable distance between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke. He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, trying to decide if he was a threat.

“You don’t seem like the type who frequents parks,” she said, breaking the silence.

Y/n smirked faintly. “And what type do I seem like?”

“The brooding loner type,” she replied, her lips curving into a small smile.

He chuckled, though the sound felt foreign in his throat. “Fair enough.”

Another pause settled between them, but this time it was less tense. Y/n found himself relaxing, though he knew he shouldn’t.

“I’ve seen you before,” Jung-hwa said suddenly, her voice soft but sharp.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. “Have you?”

She nodded. “You were at the café yesterday, weren’t you? Sitting by the window.”

Damn. He hadn’t realized she’d noticed him. “Maybe,” he said vaguely, trying to deflect.

Jung-hwa tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “You’re not very good at blending in, you know.”

Y/n bit back a retort. She was testing him, probing for information, and he couldn’t afford to slip up. But before he could respond, she stood up, brushing cherry blossom petals from her coat.

“Well, whoever you are,” she said, turning to leave, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Y/n watched her walk away, his chest tightening. She was sharper than he’d given her credit for. But more than that, her words lingered in his mind.

What was he looking for?

That night, Y/n sat alone in his dingy apartment, staring at the photo of Jung-hwa that Sang-hyun had given him. The more he thought about her, the more conflicted he felt. She wasn’t just a target anymore—she was a person, someone who had shown him a glimpse of a life beyond the darkness he lived in.

But he knew that sparing her would come at a cost.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed. It was Sang-hyun.

“Y/n,” Sang-hyun’s voice came through the line, cold and commanding. “You’ve had enough time. Finish the job, or I’ll finish you.”

Y/n’s jaw tightened, his grip on the phone trembling. He didn’t respond.

“You hear me?” Sang-hyun growled. “Do it, or you’re dead.”

Y/n hung up without a word.

For the first time in years, he made a decision for himself. He wouldn’t kill her. He was done being a tool, done living under Sang-hyun’s control.

But walking away wouldn’t be easy.

And as the first knock sounded on his door—heavy and deliberate—he knew that Sang-hyun had already set his sights on him.

The knock on the door came again, louder this time. Y/n's breath hitched as he scrambled to his feet, every muscle in his body tensed. His small apartment was dark, illuminated only by the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds. He reached for his pistol, his fingers tightening around the grip as he moved silently toward the door.

"Y/n," a voice called from the other side, low and menacing. "You think you can walk away from this?"

It was one of Sang-hyun's men.

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest. He had known this was coming, but he hadn't expected it so soon. They weren't here to talk-they were here to kill him.

The doorknob rattled, and then, with a deafening crash, the door splintered open. A team of three men burst inside, weapons drawn. Y/n didn't hesitate.

The first man went down with a single shot to the chest. The second lunged at him with a knife, but Y/n sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. A swift kick sent the man sprawling, unconscious.

The third was smarter, firing off a shot that grazed Y/n's shoulder. Pain flared, but he didn't let it slow him down. He ducked behind the couch, returning fire. The man cried out as a bullet struck his leg, dropping him to the ground.

Silence fell, save for the ragged breathing of the wounded. Y/n stood, his pistol still trained on the men. Blood dripped from the graze on his shoulder, but he didn't flinch.

He had to go.

Y/n grabbed a bag he had packed earlier, slinging it over his shoulder as he stepped over the bodies. He didn't look back.

The streets of Seoul were alive with activity, but Y/n moved like a ghost, blending into the crowd despite the pain in his shoulder. He had to get out of the city, away from Sang-hyun's reach.

But Sang-hyun wouldn't stop. He had made that clear.

As Y/n turned a corner, he caught a glimpse of a shadow moving toward him. He ducked just in time as a knife swiped past his face. His attacker-a man in a leather jacket- lunged again, but Y/n blocked the strike, delivering a sharp punch to the man's throat.

Another assassin.

Y/n didn't wait for him to recover. He darted into a narrow alley, his footsteps echoing against the walls. Gunfire erupted behind him, the bullets narrowly missing as he weaved through the labyrinth of alleyways.

He emerged onto a quieter street, his breath coming in harsh gasps. His leg burned, and when he glanced down, he saw blood seeping through his jeans. A bullet had grazed him there, too, though he hadn't noticed in the chaos.

He was losing strength.

"Damn it," he muttered, stumbling as his vision blurred. He leaned against a wall, his fingers pressing against the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Help. " he rasped, his voice barely audible.

The world spun, and then he saw her. A silhouette against the dim light, her figure commanding and unyielding. She moved closer, her steps deliberate, until she was standing before him.

"Y/n," she said, her voice soft yet chilling.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed. As darkness consumed him, the last thing he saw was her face-a face both beautiful and terrifying.

Y/n woke to the scent of antiseptic and the feel of soft sheets beneath him. His head throbbed, and his body felt heavy, but he was alive.

He opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. The room was luxurious, with dark wood furniture and velvet curtains. A fireplace crackled in the corner, casting warm light across the space.

"You're awake."

The voice was familiar, and when Y/n turned his head, he saw her sitting in a chair by the fire. Gahyeon.

Her presence was magnetic, her dark eyes studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. She wore a tailored black dress, her posture regal, her expression unreadable.

"You should be dead," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Sang-hyun's men don't leave loose ends."

Y/n forced himself to sit up, wincing as pain flared in his leg and shoulder. "Why am I here?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Gahyeon leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "You intrigue me," she said simply.

"That's not an answer," Y/n shot back, his eyes narrowing.

She smirked, amused by his defiance. "You spared my sister."

"Sister?"

"Jung-hwa," Gahyeon clarified, her gaze piercing. "You were sent to kill her, weren't you?"

Y/n didn't respond, but his silence was answer enough.

"I expected you to try," she continued. "But instead, you hesitated. That's not something Sang-hyun's lapdog would do."

"I'm not his lapdog," Y/n said through gritted teeth.

"Not anymore," Gahyeon said, rising from her chair. She walked toward him, her heels clicking against the floor. "But that doesn't explain why you're here, bleeding out in my territory."

"I didn't have a choice," Y/n admitted, his voice low. "Sang-hyun put a bounty on my head."

"And now you're a man with nowhere to go," Gahyeon said, stopping beside his bed. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of his jaw. "Except here."

Y/n flinched at her touch, his instincts screaming danger. "What do you want from me?"

Gahyeon smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "I want you to work for me."

Y/n stared at her, disbelief and suspicion swirling in his mind. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I saved your life," she said, her tone turning icy. "And because we have a common enemy."

Sang-hyun.

Y/n's jaw tightened as he thought about the man who had destroyed his life. Gahyeon was dangerous, but she wasn't wrong. If he wanted to take down Sang-hyun, he couldn't do it alone.

"And if I refuse?" Y/n asked.

Gahyeon's smile widened. "Then you die. But I think you're smarter than that."

Y/n closed his eyes, exhaustion and pain weighing on him. He didn't trust her, but for now, he didn't have a choice.

"Fine," he said finally. "I'll work for you."

"Good," Gahyeon said, her voice soft but triumphant. "Welcome to the Delacroix family, Y/n."

Y/n spent the next few days confined to the lavish room in Gahyeon’s mansion. His wounds were healing faster than expected, thanks to the skilled care of her personal medic. Yet, every time he looked at himself in the ornate mirror across the room, he saw the scars Sang-hyun had left behind—marks of a life he wanted to leave but couldn’t escape.

The door to his room opened one morning, revealing Gahyeon. She stepped inside, a commanding presence that instantly filled the space.

“Get up,” she said briskly. “Your recovery time is over.”

Y/n pushed himself to his feet, biting back a groan as his injured leg protested. “What now?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

She smirked. “Now, you prove that I didn’t make a mistake saving your life.”

Gahyeon led him to an underground training room, its walls lined with weapons of all kinds. A group of her men stood at attention, their expressions wary as they eyed Y/n. He didn’t blame them—he was an outsider, an enemy until recently.

“This is Y/n,” Gahyeon announced, her voice firm. “He’s under my protection now, which makes him one of us. Anyone who has a problem with that can leave.”

Her men exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them moved.

“Good,” she said, her eyes flicking to Y/n. “You’re going to spar with Jae-hyun.”

Jae-hyun, a towering man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. He was clearly the group’s enforcer, and Y/n could tell this wasn’t just a test—it was a warning.

Y/n squared his shoulders, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. He didn’t need to win; he just needed to survive.

The fight was brutal. Jae-hyun was stronger, but Y/n was faster, using his agility to evade the worst of the blows. Still, he couldn’t dodge everything. A particularly hard punch sent him sprawling to the ground, blood trickling from his split lip.

“Enough,” Gahyeon’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Jae-hyun stepped back, his chest heaving, while Y/n struggled to his feet. He wiped the blood from his mouth, meeting Gahyeon’s gaze with a defiant glare.

“You’ve got grit,” she said, a hint of approval in her tone. “But you’ll need more than that to survive in my world.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Y/n shot back, his voice steady despite the pain.

Gahyeon’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “Yes, you are.”

Over the next few weeks, Y/n trained relentlessly under Gahyeon’s watchful eye. She pushed him to his limits, forcing him to confront his weaknesses and hone his skills. At first, their interactions were cold and formal, but gradually, something began to shift.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session, Gahyeon handed Y/n a towel and a bottle of water. He accepted them silently, too exhausted to argue.

“You’re improving,” she said, her tone softer than usual.

Y/n glanced at her, surprised. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she replied, though there was a faint smile on her lips.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” she countered, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile back, the tension between them easing for the first time.

Their bond deepened during their first mission together. A shipment of weapons bound for the 3 Crows had been intercepted by a third-party gang, and Gahyeon was determined to retrieve it.

The operation was risky, requiring stealth and precision. Y/n and Gahyeon worked side by side, their movements synchronized as they navigated the enemy’s stronghold.

When they were discovered, chaos erupted. Gunfire echoed through the building, and Y/n found himself covering Gahyeon’s back as they fought their way out.

“Stay close!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise.

“I’m not going anywhere!” he replied, firing at an approaching thug.

At one point, a gang member managed to sneak up behind Gahyeon, his knife raised. Y/n reacted instinctively, tackling the man to the ground and disarming him.

“Watch yourself,” Y/n said, his tone half-scolding, half-concerned.

“I had it under control,” Gahyeon retorted, though her expression softened as she looked at him. “But… thanks.”

They escaped with the shipment intact, their victory cementing a newfound trust between them.

That night, back at the mansion, Y/n found Gahyeon on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. He joined her, leaning against the railing.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

“Just thinking,” she replied, her voice uncharacteristically subdued.

“About what?”

“About why I do this,” she admitted, her eyes distant. “Why I fight so hard to hold onto power, to protect what’s mine.”

Y/n studied her, seeing for the first time the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. “Because it’s all you’ve ever known,” he said gently.

She turned to him, her expression guarded. “And what about you? Why do you keep fighting?”

Y/n hesitated, the weight of his past pressing down on him. “Because I don’t know how to stop,” he said finally.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the distance between them shrinking. Gahyeon reached out, her hand brushing against his.

“Maybe we can figure it out together,” she said softly.

Y/n’s breath caught, her words stirring something deep inside him. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope.

“Maybe we can,” he agreed.

The Delacroix estate was abuzz with activity, its halls alive with the chatter of operatives preparing for a major operation. Y/n, now firmly entrenched in Gahyeon’s world, was reviewing the mission details with Jung-hwa in the library.

Jung-hwa leaned over the map spread across the table, her dark hair brushing against Y/n’s arm. She was explaining the security patterns of their target—a 3 Crows warehouse—when she suddenly laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made Y/n smile despite himself.

“You’re terrible at this,” Jung-hwa teased, pointing at the notes he had scribbled.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you talk too fast,” Y/n shot back, his grin widening.

Their playful banter was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Y/n turned to see Gahyeon standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

“Jung-hwa,” Gahyeon said coolly. “Shouldn’t you be overseeing the preparations in the armory?”

Jung-hwa straightened, a hint of unease flickering across her face. “I was just—”

“Now,” Gahyeon interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Jung-hwa glanced at Y/n before nodding and leaving the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

Y/n raised an eyebrow at Gahyeon as she walked toward him, her steps measured. “What was that about?” he asked.

“Don’t waste your time on her,” Gahyeon said, her voice sharp. “She’s too soft for this world.”

Y/n frowned, crossing his arms. “She’s your sister.”

“And she’s not your concern,” Gahyeon snapped, her eyes flashing.

Realization dawned on Y/n, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Are you jealous?”

Gahyeon’s jaw tightened, her composure cracking for a fraction of a second. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You are,” Y/n said, his tone teasing. “You’re jealous.”

She glared at him, her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of color. “Focus on the mission, Y/n,” she said, turning on her heel and leaving before he could say anything else.

Later that night, Y/n found himself on the training grounds, practicing his aim with a set of throwing knives. The rhythmic thud of metal sinking into wood was oddly soothing, a temporary reprieve from the chaos of his life.

He didn’t notice Gahyeon approaching until she spoke.

“Still awake?”

Y/n turned to see her standing a few feet away, her arms crossed. She looked different in the moonlight—softer, almost vulnerable.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, gesturing to the knives. “Figured I’d make myself useful.”

Gahyeon stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the target. “Your form’s off,” she said, picking up a knife from the bench. “Let me show you.”

She stood behind him, her hands lightly brushing against his as she adjusted his grip. Y/n froze, acutely aware of how close she was. Her perfume was subtle but intoxicating, and he found himself holding his breath.

“Like this,” she murmured, guiding his arm.

He threw the knife, and it hit the center of the target with a satisfying thud.

“Not bad,” Y/n said, turning to face her. “You’re a pretty good teacher.”

“I’m good at everything,” Gahyeon replied, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Y/n chuckled, shaking his head. “Modest, too.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them shifted. Gahyeon’s gaze softened, and Y/n could see something flicker in her expression—something she quickly masked.

“We should get some rest,” she said abruptly, stepping back.

“Yeah,” Y/n agreed, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just changed between them.

The mission the next day was a success, but it wasn’t without its complications.

As they regrouped at the estate, Y/n found himself surrounded by members of the Delacroix family, all eager to congratulate him on his role in the operation. One of them, a young woman named Hana, lingered longer than the others.

“You were incredible out there,” Hana said, her admiration clear in her voice.

“Just doing my job,” Y/n replied, though her enthusiasm made him uncomfortable.

Gahyeon entered the room then, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Hana.

“Hana,” Gahyeon said, her tone icy. “Don’t you have reports to file?”

Hana blinked, startled. “I-I was just—”

“Now,” Gahyeon ordered, her glare leaving no room for argument.

Hana scurried away, and Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really don’t like anyone talking to me, do you?”

“I don’t like distractions,” Gahyeon retorted, her voice clipped.

Y/n stepped closer, his expression challenging. “Or maybe you don’t like sharing.”

Gahyeon’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she turned and walked away, leaving Y/n to wonder just how deep her feelings for him ran.

The halls of the Delacroix estate hummed with tension. Gahyeon sat at the head of the long mahogany table in the war room, her sharp gaze scanning the reports laid out before her. Y/n stood by her side, arms crossed, his instincts prickling with unease.

"Something doesn't feel right," Y/n said, his voice low.

Gahyeon glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "What do you mean?"

"There's been too much silence from the 3 Crows," he replied. "Sang-hyun isn't the type to sit idle."

Gahyeon's lips pressed into a thin line. "I've strengthened our defenses. If he tries anything, we'll be ready."

Before Y/n could respond, the door burst open, and one of Gahyeon's trusted lieutenants stumbled in, blood staining his uniform.

"They. they turned on us," he gasped. "Some of our men. they're working for Sang-hyun."

Gahyeon's eyes narrowed, fury sparking within them. "Who?"

Before the man could answer, gunfire erupted outside, echoing through the estate. Y/n grabbed Gahyeon's arm, pulling her to her feet.

"We need to move. Now."

As chaos engulfed the estate, Y/n and Gahyeon fought their way through the corridors. Their enemies were ruthless, attacking with the precision of trained operatives. Y/n's mind raced as he pieced together the betrayal.

"This was planned," Y/n muttered, firing at an approaching enemy. "Sang-hyun's been planting seeds in your ranks for weeks."

"I'll kill him," Gahyeon snarled, her tone venomous.

"We'll kill him," Y/n corrected, his voice firm.

They found Jung-hwa in the west wing, cornered by a group of traitorous guards. Y/ n and Gahyeon dispatched them swiftly, their movements seamless as they worked together.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asked, pulling Jung-hwa to her feet.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice trembling. "But we need to get out of here."

"No," Gahyeon said, her eyes blazing. "We're not running. This ends tonight."

Hours later, under the cover of darkness, Y/n and Gahyeon infiltrated Sang-hyun's stronghold. The once-imposing estate of the 3 Crows now reeked of desperation and greed.

Sang-hyun was asleep in his lavish bedroom, unaware of the storm creeping toward him. Y/n entered first, his footsteps silent as a shadow. Gahyeon followed, her knife glinting in the moonlight.

Y/n stood over Sang-hyun, his heart pounding as memories of his parents' brutal deaths flooded his mind. This was the man who had stolen his childhood, who had twisted his life into a nightmare.

Without hesitation, Y/n pressed the blade to Sang-hyun's throat. The man's eyes snapped open, panic flashing across his face.

"Y/n." Sang-hyun choked, his voice weak.

"This is for my parents," Y/n said, his voice steady, though his eyes burned with fury. "And for hurting Gahyeon."

With one swift motion, he slit Sang-hyun's throat. Blood spilled across the sheets as Sang-hyun gasped for air, his hands clawing at his neck. Y/n held his gaze until the light faded from his eyes, then stepped back, his breathing heavy.

"It's done," he said, turning to Gahyeon.

She nodded, her expression unreadable as she wiped the blood from her knife. "Let's go."

The death of Sang-hyun marked the end of the 3 Crows. Without their leader, the remnants of the organization crumbled, leaving a power vacuum in the underworld.

Y/n stood in the Delacroix estate's main hall, watching as Gahyeon addressed her people. She was a commanding presence, her voice steady and authoritative as she announced the formation of a new family-Evergarden.

"Together, we will rebuild," Gahyeon declared. "We will rise stronger than ever."

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Y/n felt only a deep weariness. He had done what he set out to do-he had avenged his parents and dismantled the 3 Crows. Now, all he wanted was peace.

That evening, Y/n approached Gahyeon in her office. She was seated at her desk, reviewing a stack of documents.

"I'm leaving," he said, his voice firm.

Gahyeon looked up, her eyes narrowing. "What?"

"I've done my part," he continued. "I gave you the power to take down Sang-hyun. Now I want a new life."

Gahyeon rose from her chair, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. "You think you can just walk away?"

"I'm not asking for permission," Y/n said, meeting her gaze.

Her expression darkened, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You belong to me, Y/n. I won't let you go."

Before he could respond, she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You've given me everything. Your loyalty, your strength. your heart. And now, you'll give me forever."

Y/n's breath caught as Gahyeon leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're mine, Y/n. Always."

A week later, the Delacroix family officially merged with the remnants of the 3 Crows, forming Evergarden. Gahyeon declared herself the leader, solidifying her position in the underworld.

In a grand ceremony held in the estate's ballroom, Gahyeon stood beside Y/n, her hand entwined with his. Her smile was triumphant as she announced their marriage, sealing their union and her control over him.

As the crowd applauded, Y/n felt the weight of her obsession pressing down on him. He had thought he could escape, but Gahyeon's love was as inescapable as it was dangerous.

And deep down, he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave.

Evergarden thrived under Gahyeon’s rule. Her ruthless efficiency and unyielding leadership made the organization a dominant force in the underworld. Y/n, now her husband, found himself at the heart of the new empire.

But the power, wealth, and influence came at a cost.

Y/n stood in the grand dining hall, watching as Gahyeon conversed with her lieutenants. She was as commanding as ever, her every word dripping with authority. Yet, whenever her gaze fell on him, it softened, her possessiveness evident in the way her eyes lingered.

“Y/n,” she called, motioning for him to join her.

He approached, his movements slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter?”

Gahyeon’s lips curved into a smile. “Nothing. I just like having you close.”

One of the lieutenants, a young man named Min-joon, chuckled. “Boss, you’re going to spoil him.”

Gahyeon’s smile vanished, her gaze turning icy. “Watch your tongue, Min-joon.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Y/n placed a hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture to diffuse the situation.

“Relax,” he said, his voice calm. “He’s just joking.”

Gahyeon’s expression softened again, but the warning in her eyes remained. “Careful, Min-joon. You wouldn’t want to upset me.”

Later that night, Y/n found himself alone in the garden, seeking solace among the flowers and moonlight. The estate was a fortress, its walls impenetrable, yet Y/n felt trapped.

He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling into the cool night air. He didn’t hear Gahyeon approach until she spoke.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said, her tone accusing.

Y/n exhaled slowly, not turning to face her. “Just needed some air.”

Gahyeon stepped closer, her presence magnetic yet suffocating. “You don’t need to hide from me, Y/n.”

“I’m not hiding,” he replied, though his voice lacked conviction.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You belong here. With me.”

Y/n turned to her, his gaze searching hers. “Do I? Or am I just another piece in your game?”

Gahyeon’s eyes flared with hurt and anger. “You think I’m using you?”

“I think you don’t know how to let go,” he said, his voice steady.

She stepped back, her jaw tightening. “You’re mine, Y/n. I won’t lose you.”

Her words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of her obsession.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of meetings, missions, and public appearances. Gahyeon ensured that Y/n was always by her side, a constant presence in her life and her plans.

But her possessiveness began to manifest in more overt ways.

One evening, during a gala hosted by Evergarden, Y/n found himself in conversation with Hana, a former member of the Delacroix family. She was friendly, her laughter light as they reminisced about the old days.

Gahyeon watched from across the room, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. The crystal felt cold against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the icy fury settling in her chest. Her eyes followed Y/n as he laughed softly at something the woman beside him said—a laugh that once belonged to her, or so she had thought. His hand brushed the other woman’s arm, a casual gesture, but Gahyeon’s nails dug into her palm. How dare he?

When Y/n finally returned to her side, his expression was calm, almost indifferent, but Gahyeon’s sharp gaze caught the flicker of guilt in his eyes. She smiled—a tight, practiced curve of her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. “You seemed to enjoy that conversation,” she said, her tone light, almost casual, but there was no mistaking the venom lacing her words.

Y/n hesitated, his shoulders stiffening as he met her gaze. “She’s an old friend,” he replied, his voice steady but cautious. He could sense the storm brewing behind Gahyeon’s composed facade.

Her smile turned colder, sharper. “Don’t forget who you belong to.”

The words sliced through the air like a blade, and Y/n flinched, though he held his ground. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said, his voice firm despite the unease creeping into his chest.

That night, the tension between them crackled like a live wire, heavy and unspoken, until Gahyeon finally broke the silence. She stood in the doorway of their bedroom, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her face. The dim light cast shadows across her features, highlighting the anger simmering in her eyes.

“You think I don’t notice?” she said, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “Every time you talk to another woman, every time you smile at them… do you think I’m blind?”

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Gahyeon, you’re overreacting.”

Her eyes flashed, and she stepped closer, her movements deliberate, predatory. “I’m not overreacting!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I’ve given you everything, Y/n. Everything. And you still look at them.”

He stared at her, searching for the right words, but all he could see was the pain etched into her expression—pain masked by anger. “This isn’t love, Gahyeon,” he said quietly. “This is control.”

For a moment, her composure wavered, and the mask slipped. Pain flickered across her face, raw and unmistakable, before she quickly rebuilt the walls around herself. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t lose you.”

Y/n’s resolve softened as he stepped closer, his hands reaching out to cradle her face. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said gently. “But you have to trust me.”

Gahyeon looked up at him, her vulnerability laid bare in the depths of her dark eyes. “I do trust you,” she said, though the possessiveness lingering in her gaze betrayed her words.

The space between them crackled with unspoken tension, the air thick with desire and conflict. Gahyeon’s hands slid up his chest, her touch searing through the fabric of his shirt. “Prove it,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “Prove that you’re mine.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as her fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch both tender and demanding. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the way her pulse quickened beneath his fingertips. “Gahyeon…” he started, but she cut him off with a kiss—hard, desperate, and possessive.

Her lips were soft yet unforgiving, claiming him with a ferocity that left no room for doubt. She pressed herself against him, her curves molding to his body as her hands tangled in his hair. Y/n groaned, his resistance crumbling under the weight of her need. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back with equal fervor.

Gahyeon broke the kiss, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she looked up at him. “Say it,” she demanded, her voice a sultry whisper. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Y/n replied without hesitation, his voice rough with desire. The words spilled out before he could stop them, driven by the fire burning in her eyes.

A small, triumphant smile curved her lips as she pushed him backward toward the bed. He sank down onto the mattress, his heart pounding as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him with effortless grace. Her dress pooled around her hips, revealing the smooth expanse of her thighs, and Y/n’s hands instinctively gripped her hips, anchoring himself to her.

Gahyeon leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Good boy.” Her breath sent shivers down his spine, and he swallowed hard, his body responding to her dominance with an intensity that surprised him.

She rocked her hips against his, the friction eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, working them open one by one with deliberate slowness. Each brush of her fingers against his skin stoked the flames of his desire, and by the time she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, he was already achingly hard.

Her eyes darkened as she gazed at his exposed chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles with a possessiveness that made his breath catch. “Mine,” she murmured, her voice a sultry purr that sent heat pooling low in his abdomen.

Y/n’s hands moved to the hem of her dress, tugging it upward until it slipped over her head and fell to the floor. She sat back on his lap, clad only in delicate lace that did little to conceal her body. His mouth went dry at the sight of her, her curves illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp beside the bed.

Gahyeon reached behind her, unhooking her bra and letting it fall away. Her breasts spilled into his hands, and he couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth. She moaned, arching into him as his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she ground against him again, the thin barrier of his pants doing little to muffle the electric sensation coursing through them. “Y/n,” she gasped, her voice tinged with desperation. “I need you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him as he kicked off his pants and boxers. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and he positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against her slick folds.

“Look at me,” Gahyeon commanded, her voice soft but firm. He obeyed, locking eyes with her as he slowly pushed inside, inch by torturous inch. Her breath hitched, her body stretching to accommodate him, and she bit her lip to stifle a whimper.

When he was fully seated inside her, they paused, savoring the feeling of being joined together. Gahyeon’s nails raked down his back, leaving faint red trails in their wake. “Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice dripping with desire. “Show me who you belong to.”

Y/n growled, gripping her hips as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first but quickly building in intensity. Gahyeon’s moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he drove into her again and again.

Her legs tightened around him, urging him deeper, and she arched her back, crying out as pleasure rocked through her body. “Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking on the word. “Just like that…”

Y/n’s hips pistoned relentlessly, each stroke bringing them closer to the edge. Gahyeon’s nails dug into his shoulders, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she clung to him. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice a desperate plea. “Please, don’t stop.”

He obliged, his pace increasing as his own orgasm loomed dangerously close. Gahyeon’s walls clenched around him, and he knew she was teetering on the brink. “Come for me,” he growled, his voice rough with need.

Her answer was a strangled cry as she shattered, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. The sight of her unraveling pushed him over the edge, and with a final thrust, he spilled himself inside her, his release intense and all-consuming.

They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat and trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Gahyeon’s fingers traced idle patterns on his back, her breathing gradually slowing as she nuzzled against his neck. “Mine,” she murmured sleepily, her voice soft but unwavering.

Y/n didn’t argue. For now, he was content to let her claim him, even if the cost of her love was his freedom. But deep down, a part of him wondered how much longer he could endure the weight of her possession…

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madrone33 · 13 hours ago

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For people who actually need to write about something they don't know, here's some tips that changed how I saw that saying:

A lot of the time, stuff you don't know can be fixed by looking it up. Like if you don't know how to build a medieval sword but your character is making one. That's something you can find online or in a book or by talking to an expert. But for the more nebulous stuff, it's more about the feeling than the actual thing.

Say your character is an alien in the prestigious Relclaosyi, but no one wants to partner with them for the dragshvli team up mission because their eyes don't hshsh like everyone else's and no one likes that.

You as the writer are (probably) not an alien, and so how could you possible know what being an alien is like? But what you do know, or at least can put yourselves into the shoes of, is someone who's an outcast for something out of your control. That feeling is what you write down, and all the space bits are just accessories to that feeling.

“write what you know” yeah but what if i write what i could never know. i DO NOT know what it’s like to be a sea cucumber. but i would like to find out

#write what you know #tips #writers #writing

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blueberrywrites · 12 hours ago

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Happy New Years .ᐟ ♡ ❪ Sylus × Reader ❫

ⓘ Warnings ⓘ : None — General Audience.

Synopsis: Sylus was never one to socialise outside of work or tactic matters, but under the inspection of Y/N's best friends, the Almighty Tara and the Great Caleb, he somehow feels like he just met the parent-in-laws.

Notes: Female reader · she/her pronouns. Tara has been changed to y/n's, Caleb's, and Zayne's childhood + (best) friend, and they call each other siblings. Please note this is not true information in the canon events, as none of them are related to each other.

Genre: 「 #Romance 」「 #Fluff 」「 #Found Family」

Tags: @eiuuui so far, thank you very much for showing interest!

"SYLUS, hurry up! We are going to be late!"

"I'll have to remind you that I am never late."

"Shut it! It's your fault, look at this mess!"

"Personally, I think I look quite dashing, regardless."

Y/N scowled up at his smug little smirk, swatting his chest rather harshly in reprimand. She tried to save his suit by gliding her fingers over the absurd amount of fabric wrinkles, straightening his coat as carefully as she could.

"I can't believe this, it's like I'm dating a three years old," she muttered under her breath, making Sylus swallow down a laugh at her adorable grumbling.

His girlfriend wasn't usually a overly fussy person, but tonight was a exception. Not only was it New Years, but it was also Tara's birthday. She wanted to be there early and leave as late as possible. Problem was, the leader of Onychinus got into some trouble himself with some petty burglars, and her so carefully put-together outfit she made him wear was not in the best conditions.

"If anyone asks me at this point, I don't know you."

This time, Sylus really did laugh, wrapping a arm around her waist, his touch warm and tender against her backside. She narrowed her eyes up at him, knowing exactly what he is trying to do the moment he brought her closer and into his embrace.

"Your dear Tara would be disappointed, she was excited to see your plus one, no?... We don't want to upset her on her birthday," he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, before his thumb and index finger trailed down to cup her chin, tilting her head up.

Wow, now that was unfair.

"Um... first of, let me go," Y/N poked his nose, "second, we are going to upset her by being late. Clean up your shoes and let's go!" she gave him a wet towel, turning around to finish some last minute preparations.

Sylus sighed, very reluctant to release her but nevertheless heed her order. He glanced down at his shoes, crouching down to wipe off some bloody remnants. Thankfully, his formal oxford shoes came in black.

"I'm nervous," Y/N suddenly spoke, waiting for him to finish. She, of course, was dolled up with a black terra woolen vintage dress that he bought only for her, and dark winter pantyhose paired with black heels. His eyes softened as he watched her playing with the material, a pleasant little smile on her lips.

He knew she didn't get many chances to dress up, often having insecurities about not being and not feeling pretty. So the silver-haired man took quiet pleasure at seeing her so content.

He'll share all his treasure gold with her, if he gets to see her insecurities crumbling away.

"Why is that, sweetie?"

She shrugged, glossed lips tilting up to a sheepish smile. "Tara, Caleb, Zayne... you know they're like my family, right?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, feeling his eyes narrowing at the memory of a tall dark haired doctor and the way he was looking at her. "I'm aware."

"So... you're meeting them for the first time... as my boyfriend," she shrugged. "You don't think it's a bit... soon?"

He paused, looking at her blankly.

She glanced at him, apprehensive.

He looked at her.

And she looked at him back.

Oh.

Sylus came to an abrupt realisation, feeling his face paling.

I'm meeting my in-laws.

"So you are the infamous Sylus, huh?" Tara looked up at him, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg. She was a tiny thing to Sylus perspective, looking like a irritated hamster more than anything else.

"Coming so late to dinner, aren't you ashamed?" Caleb mimicked her actions, though his glare was much more prominent, and though he was around the same height and build as Sylus, it didn't erase his youthful features the least.

"Caleb." Y/N warned him, shoulders squaring up.

"My apologies," Sylus apologised smoothly, wrapping a arm around Y/N's back, making sure it was in a appropriate distance from her behind. The effect was instantaneous, for his little kitten immediately relaxed at his touch. "I'm afraid we got stuck in a traffic because of me."

"Oh?" Tara raised an eyebrow. "Because of you?"

"I forgot to change the car tires for the current snowy weather," he patted Y/N's head, making her purse her lips at his lies. Not because she didn't approve, everything to get out of her best friends' scrutiny really, but because she didn't want to laugh. There was a elephant in the room that was waiting to be addressed. "Thankfully, Y/N reminded me the moment she noticed it."

"You're rather reckless," Caleb huffed.

Sylus smiled, this time in both amusement and sincerity. "Your friend hasn't let me forget that, either."

Tara and Caleb glanced at Y/N, and the three of them had a strange stare off that Sylus wasn't privy to.

Honestly, he was almost offended.

Finally, Tara turned away from them both and rolled her eyes, grinning up at him energetically. "Well, it seems like we are going to spend New Years together! Welcome to my home!"

"A pleasure to be here," he nodded, and when a sharp jolt tugged his wrist, he glanced at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N looked beyond irritated, something that activated alarms on his head. His eyes narrowed, looking at Caleb with a red flash of warning.

The boy had the decency to look regretful, at least.

"Excuse us for a bit, we'll be at the veranda."

Y/N exhaled a sigh of relief as he tagged her closer, escorting them out from the tense atmosphere.

"What is wrong with you?!" They heard Tara hissing, before a clap sounded from their direction, most likely from her hand hitting the back of Caleb's head.

Y/N sighed, but chuckled softly, her heart warming knowing her true friend was on her side at least. She knew Caleb was rather cautious as a fighter pilot, at the Deepspace Aviation Administration in Skyhaven at that, but the fact that he couldn't even be at least polite to her boyfriend was a dealbreaker.

"I haven't ruined your new years, have I?" Sylus broke the companiable silence, looking down at her with a soft red gaze.

"Of course not," Y/N reassured him, leaning her head on his bicep, their eyes tracking the slow fall of the snowflakes to the white ground. "Caleb and Zayne are being difficult, that's all."

He hummed. "I understand why Zayne didn't come, it's honestly for the best and if anything, I do not hold it against him."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He smirked down at her. "Men talk too, sweetie."

She pouted, wrapping her arms around him, her chin resting comfortably on his chest. "I didn't know you and him were buddy-buddies."

"We are not," he was quick to refuse, as if the mere thought of it was repulsive. "We have just come to an understanding."

"An understanding?"

"As men." he nodded.

"As men," she mocked, jabbing her index finger at his side, making him gasp. "Does he have a new years date?!" Y/N became excited, she always wanted to see Zayne in a relationship, but the man was always so busy with his hospital work.

Sylus glared at her, clasping her hand on his firmly, his smirk widening on his lips. "I find it funny, how excited you seem to see if another man brought some-"

"Shh!" she shushed him, having the audacity to look annoyed as she placed her finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't even start with the whole jealousy thing. He's one of my best friends, I just want him to be happy."

Sylus couldn't help it, he kissed her finger gently, before nibbling on the skin with a content sigh, his hands traveling down her arms to tag her closer, relishing the gasp that escaped from her pretty mouth.

"Does he know that. hm?" His fingers danced over her shoulders, touch featherlike, testing her own resolve.

"Yes," Y/N said firmly. "Don't enunciate otherwise. We are good friends to each other. You should try being one too."

Sylus chuckled, his entire being dripping with amusement. "Oh, I'm an excellent friend," he leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "Especially for you, kitten."

Y/N closed her eyes, eyebrows furrowing in slight contempt. "I don't like it when you get like this."

His head dipped even closer than before, their nose almost brushing against each other. "What? Jealous?" He chuckled. "You are mine, after all, and I become nothing but just a man when it comes to you." He tilted his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the soft skin of her cheek. "Besides... I know you like me like this."

She felt her face warming up, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. "You're incorrigible, and insane, and you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of," she reached out to cup his face lovingly, brushing her thumb over the flushed apple of his cheek. "The one I adore is you."

And that was all he needed to hear for his being to relax. His crimson eyes softened, glistening softly under the christimas lights. His breath hitched on his throat, lips darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. He chuckled lowly, leaning to her touch, nuzzling to her warm hand. He could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest, tightening almost painfully.

So that's what it feels like, loving someone unconditionally.

"Bad kitten," he breathed out, closing his eyes as he inhaled that sweet scent of yours from inside your wrist. "You always know how to push my buttons."

Y/N felt her own heart skip a beat, and she couldn't help herself when she stepped even closer to him, tilting his head towards her. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his chin, reveling the sound of his small and almost quiet surprised gasp. She wrapped her arms around him and jumped up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

She almost giggled at how lovestruck he looked, but she knows she mustn't look much different either.

Sylus sighed, a loving smile appearing on his face as he leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips with his own. He stayed right then and there, relishing the feeling of the soft plump skin, of the way her sighs spurred him on even more, and the way she cradled his head in her hands, as if he was her most precious treasure.

Sylus never felt more loved before.

It was a foreign feeling, before she came waltzing into his life like a thunderstorm.

"Alright guys, only one minute left!" Tara banged on the door, knowing very well to not go into places where couples reside. She learned her lesson back in the hospital, when she visited Dr. Greyson. Zayne walking in on them should be a picture posted in history books.

Y/N sighed, parting away from him slowly, almost reluctantly. Sylus wasn't done with her though, for his head dipped down to leave a trail of fire down her neck, making her hum in pleasure.

"Come on, my big bad wolf, we're going to miss the fireworks," she huffed out a laugh, taking a step back and grasping his hand, tugging him towards the other side of the house.

If someone told her she would be dating the leader of a criminal organisation a year ago, she would have laughed right in their face.

"10!"

"9!"

If someone told him he would fall in love with a hunter, the very people who chase after him to put him behind bars, he would have called you delusional.

"8!"

Yet they were here.

"7!"

Bound by duty, like a contract at first, trying to outplan one another. Hating each other guts.

"6!"

Yet they still fell in love, somewhere in the way.

"5!"

They don't know when it happened, maybe it was that cold november night, not even a month after they met.

"4!"

Maybe it was when they first kissed. Or was it when they almost lost each other at the hands of death?

"3!"

"Sylus?"

"2!"

"Hm?"

"1!"

"I love you, darling."

"Happy New Year!"

She saw the way his lips parted, before a brilliant smile graced his features. He was gentle, and tender, and warm and loving. It made fall in love with him all over again. It made her mad, almost obsessed.

"I love you too, my love," he whispered in her ear, placing a loving kiss on the side of her forehead, eyebrows furrowing in subtle longing.

Y/N sighed, and fell into his warm embrace.

A/N: I hope you guys like this new years special! I loved tapping into Sylus jealousy, because I don't find him as someone who will easily get jealous like Xavier, but he can definitely feel it as subtle as it was. Plus, I think out of all the LI's, he would probably be more alert about Zayne, especially considering his history with us.

Happy new years, Sylus girlies!

── ❀˖°🫐₊ ⊹ blueberry ᡣ𐭩

#❀˖°🫐₊ ⊹ blueberry ᡣ𐭩 #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace #sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus lads #sylus x y/n #she/her #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #tara love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #mentioned zayne love and deepspace #fluff #romance

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sunsetsover · 2 days ago

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you know, i think the reason people fall into the 'kant doesn't care about bison at all, none of what he's doing or saying is real' thing so easily is because he's so good at compartmentalising. it's one of the most consistent parts of his character. we get shown in damn near every single scene he's in: kant constantly sets his own feelings/opinions/wants aside in favour of getting done whatever it is he needs to get done. and if you aren't paying attention it gives off the impression that he doesn't care, but that isn't the truth at all.

i know i talk about kant's role as a big brother a lot, but i genuinely believe that's where it stems from. from the moment his parents died, he had to tuck his own grief away in favour of tending to babe's needs, both emotional and physical. and in ep 6 babe refers to kant as the one who raised him, so babe really must have been quite young when their parents passed - young enough that kant is the one he considers to have raised him, not them. and i know i already talked about it in this post but it's worth reiterating that that wouldn't have come without sacrifice for kant. from context clues it seems as though he went from a student just like any other to basically a single father to a young, grieving child overnight. and kant loves babe. he clearly prioritises his wellbeing - in every sense - above his own. and that means kant's own feelings and wants and desires and even his needs getting thrown aside over and over and over again in favour of babe's. this is a pattern that must have gone on for years atp. kant probably no longer knows any other way to be: he always becomes what other people need him to be. who he is and how he feels get smothered in favour of that every time. and please understand that him doing that isn't an act of manipulation, but likely started as him adapting to the circumstances he found himself in as a teenager and became so ingrained in who he is that he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore. (besides you can see when kant is manipulating someone. it's completely different. he's not great at it.)

because i mean really, do you honestly think kant was never scared going out stealing cars? do you think he wasn't petrified when he was caught? do you think he never wished for something else for his brother, for himself? do you think he never walked through the streets at night looking for cars to steal, wishing he could just go home? wanting his mum and dad? wanting to someone to take care of him for once?

of course he did. of course he was scared. of course he was upset. he's not a sociopath, nor is he some kind of professional criminal. he's just a guy who's been doing whatever he has to to get by, and sometimes that meant doing bad things, but he still has feelings and wants and wishes beyond that.

but the thing is, as it always has been, is that above kant's wants or needs or feelings sits babe. babe's wants and needs and feelings. his wishes. his dreams. and so kant pushes his own feelings to the side so that he could do what he needed to do - first out of necessity, then because he had no choice. but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't still there. it doesn't mean he doesn't still feel them.

but what place is there for kant's feelings? what use are they? babe needs feeding. he needs education. he needs school uniforms and books and new shoes. he needs someone there, on the outside. kant is of no use to babe in a prison cell. so what good does kant's fear do? where do his desire and his wants and his feelings get him? nowhere. dreams don't put food on the table. so he tucks them away, time and time again. he's scared, but he gets on with it because there's no other option. he wants, but he has babe to think about, so what use is it wanting anything? wanting to go somewhere, to do something, to be with someone - what's the point when he can't have any of it. he has a child to take care of, and that child's needs must always come first. that's the sacrifice any good parental figure must always make. so that's what kant has done. he's spent half of his life pushing his feelings away in favour of making sure babe is good.

why, then, would love be any different?

style can love fadel. he can want him, and he can voice it, and he can show it, because style doesn't have to think about anyone other than himself. there's no one relying on him, not the way babe relies on kant. and so if he acts stupid and reckless and falls in love with an assassin, the consequences of that will be his and his alone to deal with.

kant doesn't have that luxury - the luxury of loving bison. he never has. he has babe to think about. and on top of that, kant can't allow himself to want anything because to him, wanting is useless. it's pointless. he never gets to have what he wants. and he especially can't allow himself to want bison, not when bison is literally his get out of jail free card. kant can't go to prison because he has to look after babe. and it's the same pattern all over again: babe comes first. what kant actually wants doesn't matter.

so he locks it away. he compartmentalises it. we've seen it over and over and over: he gets angry at christ and he swallows it because he can't afford to made him mad. he gets scared and he grits his teeth and smiles. he starts to feel something real for bison, starts to see him as something other than his ticket to freedom, and in the next breath he's reminding himself (or style) that he can't. that they just need to get the job done, asap. if the captain just arrests them, then it'll be over and kant will be free and he can tuck those feelings and those wants back in their fucking boxes and he can move on. over and over and over you see him trying to convince himself of that, because that's probably what has worked before: just one more car, just one more job, just one more time.

but the problem is it's not that simple. being in such close proximity to bison and pretending to love him has shaken the walls he's put up around himself, and they've started to crumble from the foundation up. the feelings that were supposed to be fake, that were supposed to be kept on the outside of the wall have started leaking in to where the real kant is. his walls haven't fallen down, not yet, but they've been breached. and now he's knee deep in these feelings that he shouldn't be having. now, no matter how hard he tries to resist it, he wants.

i think that's what makes the scene in the bowling alley so heartbreaking for me. when i saw the preview i thought that kant was doing it for bison's benefit, to make sure he has one last good night before he's locked away. which he definitely was. but i also think for the first time in the whole show we really get to see kant - no games, no agendas, no angles. even their first meeting wasn't entirely innocent like that - kant was putting on a persona to get bison into bed. but in that bowling alley, when they're all alone and no one's looking and there's a very real chance they'll never see each other again, kant just lets himself be. he lets bison see him, even the ugly parts, the parts that have him breaking into places and cutting off the cctv and stealing from the drinks fridge. because bison told him, didn't he? that he loves every story on his body, even the fucked up ones? so in that bowling alley kant is no longer trying to be some perfect version of himself, the one with no history or flaws, the one trying so desperately to win bison over. he's not trying to be christ's informant. he's not even trying to be babe's big brother for once. he lets himself just be kant.

kant, who wants to be alone with bison in the place where they first met. kant, who laughs so hard his body can't even hold him up. kant, who sets up a fucking projector to project the northern lights all over the walls because he saw the pictures on bison's wall and knew how much he loved them. bison never told him that. but kant is thoughtful, and kant pays attention, and kant is romantic, and none of it is an act. all of it is him, loving bison despite himself. wanting him to be happy. wanting to give and give and give because that's how kant loves: by giving until there's nothing left of him. by putting himself second and the person he loves first. it's what he did for babe, isn't it?

and it's the real kant who, for just a moment, lets himself be reckless and stupid like style gets to be, like kant never gets to be, when he looks down at bison's face and says should we just get in the car and run? and means it. he poses it like a joke, but he means it. he wants it. and it's the real kant who sits in the middle of a bowling lane and plans a trip with bison, who lets himself truly want something for the first time since he was a child, probably: 15 days, kant will drive, bison will run the playlist. they'll see the northern lights and the puffins and the waterfalls. and maybe it's the freedom of knowing he'll never get to have it that makes it so much easier to allow himself to want it, but isn't that so much worse? knowing the only way he's allowed to want anything is if there's guardrails up, keeping him in line? stopping him from making the mistake of actually thinking he ever gets to have what he wants?

none of that scene was an act. none of it. in fact imo the only person he actually puts a front up with in ep 6 was style, trying to convince him to just let them go. that it doesn't matter. bc that was all bullshit and he knew it. and you can think what you want about kant's actions and his feelings up until now, but if after watching episode 6 you still genuinely don't see that kant is head over heels for bison, then you're either not paying close enough attention, or you've let your bias/dislike of his character cloud your ability to be objective about what you're seeing, and i mean that. he is so obvious.

just because kant isn't expressing his conflict or his discomfort or his feelings the way style is doesn't mean he doesn't feel any of it. he does. his words are lies. we've already established that about him. but his conflict and his love are written all over him, all over his face, all over in his actions. the love he feels for bison is delicate and it's fragile but it's undeniably there. and if you don't see that then i genuinely feel sorry for you because you're not only missing out on half the plot, but you're also missing out on something so genuinely beautiful it makes my bones ache.

#the heart killers #kantbison #thk meta #that tweet abt kant wanting to get in bison's pants pissed me off so fucking bad like #respectfully some of you are getting your ass beat by the unreliable narrator of it all and that's a bit embarrassing #also yes i realise this is basically just a remix of the other post i made about kant #but i will KEEP making this post for as long as people keep mischaracterising him #which may just be forever i fear. bc if emotions aren't being spoon fed to the audience then they just don't exist at all apparently

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zablife · 1 day ago

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Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwiches

Summary: Even though you've promised to marry him, you still feel as though you might not be what Elvis needs. An argument over dinner proves the perfect time for him to set you straight.

A/N: I've never written for Elvis before, but something came to me I couldn't resist!

"Get up 'ere and tell me whatsa matter with you!" Elvis demanded, obviously displeased by the way you'd stormed away to the kitchen.

You pursed your lips into a defiant pout, arms crossed over your chest as you heaved for breath. He'd knocked the wind out of you when he picked you up and slammed you down onto the counter. The gasp you'd stifled was proof of it.

"I don't got anything to say to you," you retorted, averting your gaze and staring down at his dark suede shoes.

He was a gentleman at heart, but his temper often got the best of him. You heard him huff, watching him stuff his hands in his pockets to keep from manhandling you further. It was clear he only wanted to know what was wrong and he paced silently as he waited for an answer.

You were stubborn too though and often tested his patience by being deliberately willful. If he didn't know what he'd done this time, you certainly weren't going to tell him. He could figure that out for himself, you thought as you let him stew.

A moment more of shoes squeaking against the linoleum and Elvis snapped. Charging back toward you, he captured your jaw in one enormous palm forcing your eyes to meet his penetrating stare.

"Said I was sorry, didn't I?" he demanded and you could only gulp in reply. He hadn't been kind about your efforts cooking dinner and the jokes he made to the mafia eroded what little confidence you had left.

Your lip quivered despite your best efforts and hot tears welled at your lash line. Of course he noticed the change in you instantly, reaching up to catch the first tear as it fell.

“Don’t do that darlin’,” he pleaded, voice dripping in honeyed concern.

You sniffed back emotion so as not to show weakness and he chuckled slightly. "Always a brave little soldier, ain't ya?" he teased.

"M not, tho," you admitted. "I don't think I can do this," you whispered, pitching forward to press your foreheads together. You breathed in his comforting scent, allowing the waves of calm to wash over you before you continued. "I'm sorry, but I can't be your wife," you confessed. You knew it to be true, unable to keep house or cook meals for him perfectly the way his mama did for him when she was alive. You didn't have the same experience and it was killing you to know how you were failing him.

Elvis breathed deeply as his large hand came to cradle the back of your head, making you feel safe and secure as only he knew how. You could feel him smirking against you and you held your breath waiting for whatever reply he'd give to dismiss your concerns.

However, he surprised you when his voice rumbled low and sincere from deep within his chest. "You're gonna make the most wonderful wife, sweetheart. I know it cause you're kind and gentle..." He paused to gather his thoughts, fingers twisting in your hair as he added softly, "but most of all cause you love me like I love you."

Your heart nearly skipped a beat as he spoke the words of affirmation you'd longed to hear so many months now living with him at Graceland. However, your old insecurities ate at you faster than he could banish them. Your head shook softly against his broad shoulder, tears dripping down his shirt front as you proclaimed, "Tonight you said I couldn't do nothin' right. Maybe it's true." Then you gave in to the melancholy, hiccuped sobs leaving your parted lips.

You felt his chest puff out against you, ready to deny the accusation before he thought better of it. He looked back toward the dining room where a dozen witnesses could easily corroborate his sharp criticism. With you tugging at his heart strings now, he realized his mistake.

"Look, baby, I don't care you can't cook," he swore to you. As you looked up into his sapphire eyes, you knew he was telling the truth. Searching your tear stained face for forgiveness he added, "I'll hire us a chef and you don't ever have to worry again, alright?"

"You won't think less of me?" you asked, wiping at your ruined mascara.

A wide grin spread over his face as he thought for a moment, the devilish glint returning to his eyes as he answered, "Not as long as you learn to make me a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I can't go on a two week honeymoon with no help and nobody to make it f'me," he chuckled.

You hit his chest playfully, a giggle escaping your lips. "And how am I gonna do that?" you teased back, biting your cheek in anticipation.

Elvis' broad hands came to rest at your waist, raising you from your perch with ease. With controlled precision he placed you onto the ground beside him, pulling you into his side. "What if I teach ya?" he asked in complete seriousness.

Hands resting against his firm chest, you looked up at him expectantly, wanting to please him more than anything in the world. "I reckon I could learn."

"Yeah?" he asked, lips twitching into a tentative smile at your willingness.

"Mm-hmm," you confirmed with a quick nod.

Elvis took you by the hand and drug you toward the pantry as you furrowed your brow in confusion. "R-right now?" you stuttered, unable to believe he'd forsake his guests waiting for a proper meal in the next room.

"Ain't no time like the present, sweetheart," he declared, shutting them all out to spend time with you.

#elvis presley #Elvis fanfcition #Elvis x reader #Elvis x you #Elvis x y/n

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dkniade · 2 days ago

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Start ID. “stages of a king waging war on his daughters,” a poem separated into four parts, each part as three sections for the three daughters in King Lear. The headings are in Roman numerals and bolded.

1. intelligence

1. goneril is born in the summertime, grows slender and sweet and wide-eyed into the most beautiful, desperate creature, who will do anything to be the favorite. he drops his coins on purpose and watches as she scrambles to collect them.

2. regan is born in the winter, grows soft and quiet and tender-voiced into something with a hidden cruelty, an animal he knows is there. he gives her a magnifying glass and watches as she sets fires, saying daddy, daddy look! while a spider burns.

3. cordelia is born in the autumn, grows tall and loud and head-strong into him, into a girl who is a mirror, and he knows what his mother went through when he was young. her first and favorite word is NO, and they fight more than anything, but he knows she will be his favorite.

2. war

1. goneril needs him to be proud of her. as a child, she is pretty and accomplished and does everything right, and nothing is enough for him. she doesn't understand, and it makes her bloodthirsty. her friends are only friends until she has to outdo them. you don't understand, she screams at them, blood vessels bursting in her eyes, i have to be the best.

2. regan hates it when he yells. as a child, she is essentially invisible, just a pair of glasses and mop of curly hair. when he yells more often, she starts picking on other kids at school. one day she stabs another girl in the eye with a sharpened pencil, no provocation. she won't talk about it- just stares. he pays off the other family. he keeps yelling

3. cordelia's new favorite word is WHY. as a child, she is a natural leader, a dark-eyed storm in the shape of a girl. she questions his every decision, and he couldn't be more proud. her teachers send her home with notes about her behavior, about how she approaches every conversation like a fight, how they're worried about her home life. he puts her in a new class and tells her to keep her claws out.

3. occupation

1. goneril has collected love notes from half the students in her high school by the time she's seventeen, keeps them taped to her mirror to read while she does her makeup. i think you're beautiful while she dusts pink and gold over her eyelids, do you want to go out? while she bites the inside of her cheek so it bleeds. she's not planning to kiss any of them, so it's not like anyone else will taste it.

2. regan meets cornwall when they're fourteen and it's like a snake eating its own tail when they talk, his sentences picking up where hers finish. he has an easy laugh and a smile like a serrated knife. nobody likes who the two of them are becoming, but nobody can stop it, like a hurricane ripping through the south. she brings him to the woods and they come back with blood on their shoes.

3. cordelia's new favorite word is FUCK and she uses it like a swiss army knife. she becomes a poet and an angry, hard-eyed teen at the same time. the school counselor convinces her to come to school by letting her skip class in his office, and he gradually learns about her father, about her sisters. he learns that she likes antigone and rock music and the color blue. he learns that she has nowhere to put her anger.

4. pacification

1. goneril marries albany, her first college boyfriend, when she's twenty-three, because he's kind and mild and looks at her like she hung the stars in the sky. they really did love each other at first, but she will always need to be the best at everything, and she will always need to be the prettiest person in every room, and he will never understand why. she is beautiful and successful and it will never be enough.

2. regan and cornwall spiral into strangeness like everyone knew they would, crashing through colleges and careers, upsetting everyone they meet. they both end up in jail several times, and no one is surprised- the quiet girl with a hairpin trigger and the boy with the fire-dark eyes. in her court-ordered therapy, she says she's always been like this, ever since she was a child burning spiders on the sidewalk

3. cordelia's new favorite word is JUSTICE. she demands it from the world, screaming herself hoarse at rallies, slowly realizing that she is a young woman marching in the rain, turning fury into change. she puts herself through community college. her father threatens to stop talking to her (she used to be his favorite, a girl who was a mirror) and she calls his bluff. you aren't a father, she says. i don't need you.

end ID.

stages of a king waging war on his daughters

#poetry #shakespeare #king Lear

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shsl-analyzer-guy · 3 days ago

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In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 6: Hifumi Yamada

Finally, the 'analyses progressively getting longer' curse is broken! As excited as I am to do this next write-up, there's absolutely no chance Hifumi's analysis will hit anywhere near the length of Junko's. I estimate this'll fall closer into the length of Sayaka's if anything, but I'd love to be proven wrong and find more to his character than I anticipate.

I really do love making these. Each and every one so far has opened my eyes to new facets of these characters, and sharing my conclusions with you all and hearing your own thoughts brings me an indescribable amount of happiness. Truly, there is nothing like the hubris papers :D

As always, this analysis uses only official materials, primarily English localizations of the source material, and while I do my best to maintain objectivity, it is at its core an interpretation! If you aren't interested, keep scrolling, and if you don't like it, also keep scrolling

Part 1- Character Design

Hifumi sports a fairly typical looking and clean school uniform, neatly tucked in and collar folded. He wears with it an orange backpack that matches his tie in shade, and his tie and shoes have arrow imagery as well. His tie in particular has an double-headed arrow that points up and down over his torso. This is likely meant to reference his self-given nickname, The Beginning and the End, a biblical reference.

He keeps his hair slicked neatly into a small ahoge at the center of his head, wears round glasses, and has a cat lip and double chin. He's notably the only plus sized character in THH, and was given the title of SHSL Doujin Artist, or Ultimate Fanfic Creator. He's also noticeably very clean and neat, contrasting the otaku stereotype of being messy and disorganized.

Part 2- The Otaku Caricature: A Brief Summary

'Otakus' as they're commonly known are people that define themselves by their interest in stereotypically nerdy things to an almost obsessive degree. These people are often thought to be very good at subjects like math and science, and adore manga and/or anime. And when it comes to male otakus, they're often characterized as lonely perverts who can only find comfort and companionship in works of fiction because they're too pathetic and gross for any real person to like them, and/or because they're too obsessed with their beloved worlds of fiction to bother with making human connections. There's a lot more history behind how the otaku perception has shaped over time, but this is the basic gist of what you need to know if you're unfamiliar with otakus as a concept.

Hifumi in particular is meant to represent otaku culture as it appears in Japan, as many characters in THH are designed around subcultures themselves (Mondo with bosozoku, Chihiro with otokonoko, Junko with gyaru, etc.) and like these characters, he's designed to deconstruct what this culture represents and how people within this subculture are perceived. This is an idea that's present for most of the THH cast, but is especially noteworthy with Hifumi, because his story is one of the most immediately affected by his role within his subculture, to the point where his perception as a character is inextricably linked to public perception of this subculture.

Part 3- Character Introduction

Hifumi's first lines aren't directly known as his, but are swiftly revealed to be his once you connect the voice actor to the character. Notably, his first remark is to question the class size.

"So counting him, that makes fifteen. Seems like a good cut-off point, but I wonder if this is everyone..." -Hifumi Yamada, Prologue

When actually speaking directly to him, he introduces himself proudly, giving you his nickname- "The Alpha and the Omega", or The 'Beginning and the End' in its source language- and immediately bragging about his SHSL title and how many fancomics he's sold, even at his own school. Said works are self-described to be "about embracing our basest urges," something that immediately turns Makoto off the idea of even so much as looking at it.

Quite obviously, the implication here is smut, nudity, sex appeal, etc. "Basest urges" when referred to in the context of humans in fiction are commonly referring to sex, and coming from an otaku character, the stigma of horny, creepy anime lover is almost immediately set in place for our POV character by said comment, combined with the mention that his peers weren't all so excited to see his work in a school setting.

"Some of them didn't get it, of course, saying I'd 'tainted' the event. How stupid can you be!?" -Hifumi Yamada, Prologue

So our first given impression of him is that of a creepy otaku that draws and sells fanart of his waifus. Said impression relies on the player's prior exposure to otaku characters and their stereotypes, as well as a generalized amount of fatphobia(the fatphobia as a whole will be properly broken down at the end; stick with me until then bc it will be addressed properly) that lends itself into painting this early picture and setting up the building blocks for easy misperceptions of his future actions. Because while, yes, he does draw and sell fanart of his waifus, he's not the one-note pervert this initial impression would lead you to believe.

Part 4- Early-Game Events

Hifumi almost immediately takes a backseat in the first chapter, falling to the wayside in class discussions and only chiming in for the occasional joke. In fact, he speaks up twice in the class' breakdown of the first floor- once for a fat joke, and once for a vore joke. Neither of these are during the time where his 'investigation group' are reporting their findings.

"'But even with all that, there are 15 of us. How long can the food last?' 'Y-You can just eat sesame s-seeds or something...' 'Huh? What am I, a parakeet?'" -Hifumi Yamada & Toko Fukawa, ch 1

Later, if you choose to speak to him in the dorm hallway before going to the gym with Sayaka, he seems to be very interested in the relationship she and Makoto are developing. This noticeably makes Makoto uncomfortable, but the reason why he finds their relationship interesting is much less creepy than Makoto's unspoken assumption.

"'Mr. Naegi, Miss Maizono...! Wh-Where are the two of you off to!? A man and woman... growing closer...' 'H-Hey! What are you trying to say!?' .... 'There's really no other way to express it but to say... How very poetic!' '...'" -Hifumi Yamada & Makoto Naegi, ch 1

He sees their developing relationship as something poetic, something that has meaning to it. Speaking to him again clarifies that.

"And when he swears his love to her, there's a reason he swears that love! That's the feeling I'm getting!"

This is the first time we see Hifumi's intentions and beliefs to be more pure than his peers initially believe, and this misperception quickly becomes a theme. We see this again in the investigation, where Leon immediately assumes the worst of him for volunteering for trash duty.

"'Hey fatty! Why'd you want the cleaning gig, anyway!?' I-I just decided to volunteer for something I knew no one else would wanna do. What's the big deal!?' 'Liar! I know why you did it...'" -Leon Kuwata & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

And, when he insists upon his innocence, it's not taken at all seriously. Instead, Byakuya suggests a new rule- for Sakura to go with any man that takes out the trash.

"'If you're as innocent as you claim, what's the harm in it?' 'Kh-! That's not how it's supposed to-!'" -Byakuya Togami & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

This is, on a surface level, the boys calling Hifumi's bluff and proving that he 'really is' a pervert because he's upset about being accompanied. However, that's not the only reason why Hifumi could possibly be upset at this. Sakura is visibly the strongest, and therefore most threatening, member of their class. Hifumi's greatest strength is in his ability to hold a pen without cramping for a while. When trapped in a killing game, would you be hunky dory with your classmates deciding for you that you have to be alone with the most immediate threat in a killing game, all because they assume you're a pervert?

Essentially, Hifumi's role in the early chapters is wholly that of a comic relief character. He has geeky one-liners in response to serious moments, using nerd humor in an attempt to cope with the dire circumstances they've found themselves in. There are a few different examples of this.

But, simultaneously, he's one of the more empathetic characters in the early chapters. For example, in the opening of chapter 1, he's the only character to show actual concern for Mondo's safety when he threatens not to follow the regulations, in his own way.

He's also one of the ones to reassure Chihiro after the class trial when she blames herself for Leon's death, alongside Makoto and Hina.

It's also worth noting that he offers to help Hina get Toko back to her room after she faints upon seeing Chihiro's body, regardless of his own previously stated dislike of her. Regardless of his personal feelings, he offers a helping hand, even if it's ultimately ignored.

"You c-could've made some for the r-rest of us, you know...' 'I emphatically decline! You're not my type at all!'" -Toko Fukawa & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1 "'I don't mind taking her, but... could someone help me?' 'If you need help, I don't mind-' 'Taka, could you help me?'" -Aoi Asahina & Toko Fukawa, ch 1

While on an overall, he doesn't do very much in the early game, we do get to see the two main points of his character start to come into focus: his nerdiness, and his empathy. We also get to see which half his peers pick up on, and which half they really, really don't.

Part 5- Relationships

Hifumi is a character whose story is defined by his relationships. Mainly which characters give him the time of day, which don't, and how that leads him to his eventual demise.

5.1- Leon Kuwata & Aoi Asahina

Due to both of them having a similar function for Hifumi, and having a small amount of crossover, I'm lumping Leon and Hina together. When it comes to Hifumi, both Leon and Hina are noticeably the two to visibly dislike Hifumi and assume the worst in him. This is a sort of demonstration of the group's general perception of him, as Leon is relatively active when it comes to the group conclusions in the first chapter, and Hina is consistently a voice of optimism in group discussion. For example, twice in the first chapter, Leon talks down to Hifumi, assuming the worst in him and calling him 'fatty' as an insult.

Hina, on the other hand, noticeably goes around Hifumi in conversation, brushing off his words more than once or straight up ignoring him, like when he tried to offer help to her dropping off Toko. Suffice to say, neither of them like him very much, though it's presented a bit differently. No one ever speaks in Hifumi's defense or agrees with him in group discussion, and seldom will you find Hifumi speaking one on one to anyone other than Celeste(when she's bossing him around, of course).

Leon dies relatively quick, so there's not any resolution on his end, but for Hina, she absolutely learns something from Hifumi's death, as Hifumi was someone she basically wrote off in life. So many people had already died, and when she was the one responsible for protecting Hifumi in the nurse's office, she failed him for her own sake. Her ignoring him is a point of guilt, and it leads her to be the only one to properly mourn him when everyone else is more focused on the mechanics of the murder itself. His death acts as a moment of growth for her, and hardens her to anyone who doesn't give the lonely a hand, the way she didn't to him.

5.2- Toko Fukawa

Hifumi doesn't like Toko. He sees her as a pretentious hypocrite, and says about as much when the two of them are in the library together.

"'They have all these books here, and not ONE copy of ANY of my works!' 'W-Well, yeah... Why would they have c-comics in a library? Plus, most 'fanfic' is j-just porn drawn by a bunch of a-amateurs...' 'You just don't get it. Not. At. All.'" -Hifumi Yamada & Toko Fukawa, ch 2

"'Comic b-books? Young adult? That stuff's a w-waste of time...' 'I've seen what you write, Miss Fukawa. Talented as you are, your stuff isn't any more 'worthwhile.'' 'My stories are filled with trues love and pure feelings! Don't compare them to that garbage of yours!'" -Toko Fukawa & Hifumi Yamada, ch 2

Toko is a novelist, while Hifumi specializes in fan comics. While they're both language artists, they write in very different ways, so it's expected that they wouldn't get along very well. That said, they do have a fair amount of chemistry, being equally petty and willing to criticize each others' works without hesitation. Interestingly, Toko seems to feed off of this banter, and is visibly disappointed when Hifumi later says he has no interest in her.

Despite having a verbal slapfight, their conversation in the library is unironically the closest either of these characters get to forming an actual friendship with anyone in the THH cast in-game.

5.3- Celestia Ludenberg (CW: SA Mention)

Celeste approaches Hifumi with one goal: to gain a servant. When trapped in a killing game and desperate to escape, one will use whatever resources available, and Hifumi immediately struck her as an easy target. This wasn't unfounded, as he almost immediately agreed to making her milk tea, allowing his own attraction to her to persuade him.

"'Hifumi, would you make me some tea?' '...Huh?' 'Milk tea, if you please.' 'Wh...why me?' 'Your roundish figure reminds me of the owner of the coffee shop I used to frequent.' 'That's your reason...?'" -Celestia Ludenberg, Hifumi Yamada, & Makoto Naegi, ch 2

Her approaching him is framed as both confusing and frivolous. Hifumi can't believe it, and neither can Makoto, our POV character. But regardless, Hifumi immediately falls in line, doing what Celeste asks to the best of his ability, specifically because he's attracted to her.

"Hmhm... It's all about the law of causality, basic instinct, act and react!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 2

He does what Celeste asks because he's attracted to her, and thinks hse will, in turn, fuck him. She won't, but he doesn't need to know that. Other adaptations expand on his attraction to her, with the stageplay having him say that her Gothic lolita style akins her to horror characters in his mind, and that he wants to draw her.

Later, when Celeste plans her murder plot, Hifumi is the one she goes to, knowing he's more likely to bend to what she asks. But even though he's attracted to her, he's still at his core a decent guy. And she's not the girl at the forefront of his mind anymore, so she has to get more creative. So, in order to convince him that killing all their classmates is worth it, she comes up with a new web of lies, using both his connection with a certain AI and his own chivalry against him.

"'[Taka] came to my room last night unannounced, and then... It's hard for me to even say... He... abused me...' 'What!?' 'And he... he took pictures. He said if I did not do as he asked, he would show them to everyone... So I... I had no choice...' 'Th-that's a crime! An absolute crime!'" -Celestia Ludenberg & Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

Hifumi takes this seriously, believing what Celeste says for two reasons: because she has photographic evidence of Alter Ego in Taka's room, and because he has no reason not to trust her. She's one of the few members of the class who's spoken to him unprompted. On top of that, sexual assault is an incredibly serious accusation, and Hifumi treats it as such*.

"I'm about to say something I've never said before in my life... I'm going to kill him! I'm going to f...f...f-fucking kill him!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

(*It's also worth noting that Hifumi believing Celeste doesn't make him 'stupid'. That's a sentiment I've seen very often thrown around when talking about this chapter, with the main point being 'how could he believe that the Ultimate Moral Compass would rape someone?' But not only is that sentiment at the mercy of a mistranslated SHSL title, it also implies that Celeste should've had more proof for her rape to be believable. You should always take victims seriously, and Hifumi knew that. The point of Celeste's lie isn't that Hifumi is dumb; the point is that Celeste is scum for lying about something so serious. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.)

Hifumi becomes a victim of Celeste's schemes because his empathy, which went unnoticed by everyone else, was weaponized against him. In this sense, both he and Taka fall to the lack of understanding their peers had for them, all to Celeste's whims, as Celeste was very involved with and friendly with the class but lied constantly. Hifumi wasn't the pervert people assumed him to be, and his chivalry became his downfall.

5.4- Chihiro Fujisaki & Alter Ego

While Hifumi's relationship with Chihiro was minor, it was still there, if only in the background. They bounce off of each other's thinking in the first trial, Hifumi comforts Chihiro after the first trial, and they stand together when summoned to the gym by Monokuma. It's subtle, but there, and Chihiro isn't uncomfortable with him, either. It's important enough of a detail that it carries over to adaptations, too.

He also refuses to touch Chihiro's dead body, not wanting to violate her after death. This is again another instance of Hifumi's base morals and empathy, but could hypothetically speak to a friendship as well. He mourns her death and thought highly of her.

It's also worth noting that both Chihiro and Hifumi are the two characters in this game to show some hints of remembering their history, or at least having the feeling that something isn't quite right.

"Hey, it could just be my imagination, but... have we met before?" -Chihiro Fujisaki, prologue

"...Huh? Ahh... that's right... I remember now... Hope's Peak... .... I remember... everything... Before... I'd met you... all... I'd met... you all..." -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

This associates the two characters together, though not to a major degree. So when Alter Ego is found, this connection combined with Hifumi's love of 2D makes it completely unsurprising that he's immediately interested in them.

"'Somehow I feel kinda... sorry for her...' ..... 'It is a simple computer program. It does not *have* feelings.' 'Are you sure about that...?'" -Hifumi Yamada & Celestia Ludenberg, ch 3

This very quickly devolves into him being sexually attracted to Alter Ego. Of that there's no question. He routinely breaks class rules specifically to interact with them on multiple occasions.

"He snuck into the dressing room in the middle of the night and accessed Alter Ego without permission. And when I caught him last night... he was hugging the laptop and breathing strangely." -Kyoko Kirigiri, ch 3

"'And that guy was seriously head over heels for a mannequin. He had a wedding and everything! And your eyes just now... I saw the same look in HIS eyes!' 'Shut up! She's not a mannequin! She's an ANGEL! .... What we have can't be described by your petty 'words'!'" -Yasuhiro Hagakure & Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

He all but admits to it, too, enjoying when they say 'Master' and the drooling sprite appearing when talking to or about them a significant amount. But despite that, he insists it's beyond just sexual attraction, and feels genuine affection for them as a person as well. Because of that, he's the first in their class to verbalize that he sees Alter Ego not as a program, but a person, a sentiment that's later shared by the rest of the class(save Celeste).

Hifumi doesn't judge Alter Ego as a program first. He loves 2D and fiction, so he's immediately more open to accepting Alter Ego right off the bat. And it's that openness that allows him to be the first one to acknowledge that despite their existence being a "2D" one, that they're still alive and matter.

5.5- Kiyondo Ishida

Hifumi never really knew Taka. They'd met, obviously, but the two of them weren't friends, or even acquaintances. When it comes to the story of THH, their paths intersect for the first time after Taka is reborn as Kiyondo, and it's not under friendly terms. Both Hifumi and Kiyondo have developed a codependency on Alter Ego, and find themselves pitted against each other because of it.

There's also a distinct difference in the way the two of them treat and view Alter Ego that sets them apart. Whereas Hifumi sees Alter Ego as their own conscious entity, one that admittedly caters to his preferences, Kiyondo's attachment to Alter Ego is to see them as the tool that reincarnated Mondo and rejoined the two of them, and is therefore Mondo's lifeline. The reason they view Alter Ego differently is because they represent the same thing for both men- the one person who connects with them.

Taka was perpetually lonely and had no friends until Mondo, while Hifumi never wanted anything more than for his favorite characters to love him the way he loved them. Alter Ego unintentionally fills that void for both of them, so they both develop a possessive codependency to them and are forced to be at odds with each other because of it, and leads both of them to their deaths.

Part 6- Hifumi Yamada: Comic Book Hero

"If murder is evidence of abnormality, then all of history's greatest heroes must have been abnormal." -Monokuma theater, ch 3

Like the characters he admired in his favorite works of fiction, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega, Hifumi determined the start and end of chapter 3. Chapter 3's plot and how it unfolds is a bit ridiculous, which is fitting for putting a comic relief character like Hifumi in the hotseat. It's in this chapter that we learn more about hifumi's interests directly, and that sets the tone for the more comical and outlandish plot we get in chapter 3.

Celeste's murder plan relies heavily on Hifumi's antics, with her entrusting him to make the costume and act the fool in her play, before killing him with his own weapon of choice. In this sense, he acts as a hidden vigilante, defending her honor and saving the princess (Alter Ego) using the Robo Justice mask.

Hifumi's supposed role makes much more sense when you take it as a comic book storyline. He, the hero, is brought to the edge of death by a villain that claims itself to be justice, only to just hold on against all odds (as heroes do) and escape the clutches of evil, murdering rapists and bringing the masked villains to justice. These kinds of stories are what Hifumi eats up, but he fails to see the true role he falls into- the poor manipulated fool, henchman to the vile villainness that tosses him aside when he's no longer useful.

Part 7- Hifumi's Memory

"If I've got one thing going for me, it's my memory!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

Hifumi having a good head on his shoulders is immediately plot relevant. His memory is impeccable, and this makes a lot of sense for someone revered for their place in fandom. Being able to remember the source material you're making art of can be really useful.

But in his final moments, Hifumi's strong memory comes back to him, Celeste's attack both killling him and dislodging the memories Junko had buried. This serves as both a clue to the immediate trial for his and Taka's murder, and becomes a clue towards the truth of the entire killing game.

"Who... killed me...? That's right... I remember... their name... Y...Yasu...hi...ro...." -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

While this reveals Celeste's real name, it doesn't explain how Hifumi would've known that, and it's a question that's never directly answered until the final trial- they were friends for 2 years, and had learned her real name in that timeframe beforehand. This, alongside the first photo of the class' past and Kyoko questioning her body having changed, is where the setup for the class' missing their school lives really takes off. It's a nice detail to include for Hifumi, and has its impact on the player when you realize that Celeste, who seemed to hate Hifumi, had once willingly shared such sensitive information with him, a trust that became his final words, and it calls into question just how different everyone's relationships were with each other before the game began.

Part 8- Fatphobia In Danganronpa (& Creator's Bias)

By now, I'm certain a fair chunk of people have rolled their eyes, refreshed the page, moved on with their lives, etc. because of this post's insistence that Hifumi isn't perverted. And that's mainly because of the content of his FTEs, in which he tells us in no uncertain terms how much he wants to embarrass and mature the teen girl character he loves most. And yes, that is pretty sexual of him, and he makes a few different out-of-place sex jokes throughout his time in the game, most of which were glossed over. Well, my main reason for doing this is that I think these moments and assertions exist not in tandem with Hifumi's character and story, but in contradiction of them.

I'll elaborate. Hifumi is a fictional character. As such, when written, the character choices and dialogue are subject to authorial intent. This is base information when analyzing a character that every fictional character in all of media history is subject to. But the question with Hifumi is, how much of Hifumi's intended arc and story is negatively affected by the creator's own biases? When it comes to Hifumi, my conclusion is, a fair bit.

Hifumi's intended impact is shared with most of the cast- the subversion of expectations. Sayaka wasn't the deuteragonist. Chihiro wasn't a (cis) girl. Junko wasn't dead. Et cetera. In the case of Hifumi, this subversion is undoubtedly, and without question, that he is not a pervert. He's set up to be assumed as a pervert, only for the rug to be pulled out when Celeste reveals that he agreed to help her because he believed he was saving a sexual assault victim. He's beyond disgusted by the mere notion; he respects her, and becomes a mourned victim because of it. There's no reason for the game to call attention to this in the post-trial if this wasn't the point. So why, then, do they include all these sexual jokes, all directed at the female cast members and told exclusively by Hifumi? Why is he the one to immediately agree to spy on the girls in the bathhouse without hesitation, and mourns it if you don't unlock the cutscene? Is it all part of the 'gotcha'? Was it even necessary for the 'gotcha'? Well, no, to both questions. Hifumi has this subversion, yes, but he's also comic relief, and these moments and jokes are given to him as a result, despite the immediate and obvious contradiction.

But why? Surely these jokes could've gone to another character, or even been spread across the cast. It didn't have to be Hifumi, but the author made it so that it was, and when looking seriously at what his character was meant to accomplish, you also have to look at it critically and acknowledge why. There's one very real and apparent reason that Hifumi would be the one given these moments above everyone else, and it's the same reason the game makes multiple passes at his figure, assigns him a comic role over others in the first place, and ultimately gets lumped in with the actual perverts of Danganronpa when people criticize the fanservice and horny pervert characters of the series. He's fat, plain and simple.

Fatphobia is unfortunately evident within Hifumi's character, and most of the rest of the series as well. For one thing, in a cast of nearly 100 characters, only three are fat, and of those three, he's the only one to make it past the first chapter. Similarly to the dark-skinned characters in this series, body diversity is not a priority in Danganronpa. On top of that, all 3 of these plus-sized characters are somewhat associated with food. It's more obvious with the other two, as the Ultimate Imposter has several gags and lines about how much food he eats and how important calories are to him, and Teruteru is the Ultimate Cook, but Hifumi's official art also has him pictured with greasy snacks like potato chips while working, and in his FTEs he tells you about his Diet Coke addiction. Individually, there's nothing wrong with any of these; they make sense for the characters, but when it's all of your plus-sized characters, and you barely have any, that's a pattern.

In the case of Hifumi, though, the much more noticeable aspect of fatphobia present is his hornier brand. Other characters are noticeably uncomfortable around him at multiple instances, but by the end of the first chapter, his being a pervert is accepted fact, and people stop reacting to it.

The above sprite in particular is used very often when Hifumi is speaking, and there are several instances in which the way the player may interpret his dialogue is directly affected by the use of this particular sprite. He's visibly sweaty and drooling as he talks, and it's often paired with the Junk Food track to emphasize that what he's saying is ridiculous. An example that immediately comes to mind is if you speak to him with Sayaka before going to the gym. The Junk Food 10 track cuts in when you click on him, and immediately ends and goes back to the previous track once you're done speaking to him. The game also makes a few passes at his weight, to the point where him being too heavy to lift unironically becomes a truth bullet in the chapter 3 investigation and trial. It's technically a good point to make, since he did fly up 2 flights of stairs in the span of a few minutes, but the way in which they emphasize his weight when collecting the bullet is... rude, to say the least.

"Hifumi's big, cold body is laying on the floor... His... *really* big body. I mean, how on Earth was the killer able to move someone so big?" -Makoto Naegi, ch 3

As I stated previously, despite Hifumi having a minor arc and purpose, he is very much a comic relief character. The presentation of his character is very much a reflection of this. And there's nothing wrong with having comic relief characters. By himself, Hifumi's not being a pervert being paired with an immature sense of humor isn't the worst thing in the world, and for the most part, the contradiction here could be meta-explained as him being overexposed to Internet humor and having his foot in his mouth on occasion as a result. But that doesn't change the fact that doing it with who, at the time of his creation, is your only fat character isn't a great choice to make, and is worth calling out and criticizing for that very reason. Admittedly, this is lessened a good bit when you remember that Toko, a much thinner character, is way worse about being perverted, and plenty of way more perverted characters that are both thinner and less sympathetic as characters are introduced later. (If anything, Hifumi being negatively affected by fatphobia is worse in the fandom than it is in the actual source material, but the source did set it up for that to happen, so again, it's still worth calling out in a full character analysis.)

Part 9- Value of a Geek (Why We Care)

So now we know who Hifumi is. The perceived Hifumi, the empathetic Hifumi, and the contradictory Hifumi. So many Hifumis, and only one character. Can we condense this into a solid conclusion?

Hifumi is an otaku. Hifumi is a creator. Hifumi is horny. Hifumi beats rapists over the head with a giant fucking hammer. Hifumi Yamada is many things, a contradiction of a character. He can't keep his inside thoughts inside, but that extends to his art, too. He's a teenage boy who built a career off his pent-up frustration, and who hasn't lost sight of where the line is. He's a man of passion, in more ways than one, and he's a kinder and more chivalrous man than he's given credit for.

Hifumi Yamada may just be the character from THH you're most likely to come across in the real world. He's not some hyper-competent secret genius who made the conscious choice to dedicate his life to something. He was just a bit of a geek that really liked his favorite show, and built a community from it. He fell into his passion, and that's something I think any creator of any kind can relate to. Hifumi never cared what people thought of him, not really. He just strived to do what made him happy. Maybe we should all be more like Hifumi. Enjoy the things you love, and share that. There is a community out there that will love it; you just have to find them.

Afterword

Final analysis of the year!!! Happy birthday, Hifumi!!!! 🥳

It's technically already 2025 and January 1st. However, it's still December 31st somewhere, so I'm considering this a victory lol. Damn, 6 analyses in a little over 6 months. That's like, 1 analysis a month. Pretty crazy

I worry this may be a tad rushed, but I've looked it over and I'm confident it holds up, even if I probably could've gone into more detail in some places or another.

Anywho, expect a larger gap between this analysis and the next, because next in line is Toko Fukawa, which means we have to go beyond THH once more. Catch ya later!

#yamada hifumi #hifumi yamada #trigger happy havoc #thh #dr1 #thh spoilers #chihiro fujisaki #celestia ludenberg #alter ego #kiyotaka ishimaru #danganronpa #meta analysis #dr character analysis #character analysis #character study #media analysis #cw sa mention

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maria-ruta · 3 days ago

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💯🌴🎮 for Veronica!!

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

1 - she can't draw X) at all! haha lol... i guess she could learn that, since she is vampire...

2 - she has a box with some ancient falange relics inside her chest - near her heart

only few other vampires know about that, namely Jaqueline, who put it there (@tench-art 's character) and Charlie ( @osatokun 's character)

and also Adzone (who gave her that box to protect Veronica from the Beckoning) and Caroline (another @osatokun s character. she also has similar box. tho she probably doesnt know that Veronica keeps her box inside of her and idk where Caroline keeps her)

3 - Vampires wake up looking the same way like when they died every night.

Veronica wakes up with tired eyes/eyebags, her short hair is uneven, not a clean buzzcut, her nails are different leinght, some are broken. she also has stubble on her legs and armpits

usually she shaves, fixes her buzzcut or puts on a wig (or both), fix and paint her nails or puts on false nails etc like that

except if she is planning to make herself into a punk character - then she can leave everything as it is, or just add some makeup and nail polish. or if she is in tremendus hurry and can't "beautify" herself - tho she will be super stressed if it happens so, bc of the all that terible weight that most of other toreadors put on her, always demanding to look your best, and bullying/taking advantage of you if you don't match their standarts...

but tbh sometimes she can put make up while she drives... X'D its horrifying but she is horrifingly good driver X)

not many people got to see her "morning" look - she prefers not to show it. her close ones did tho

🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening?

no, i dont think so... she is a vampire so she can only live during nights - most plants sleep at night

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc’s favorite hobbies?

1 - collecting different clothes, shoes and wigs obviously... she has tons of this shit

2 - playing online video games and trolling gamer bros by being better than them while being a girl (and also releasing this sweet accumulated agression lol)

3 - making cute instagram photos (while also never showing her face there - vampires cant do so)

old example lol:

Thank you for the ask!

Here is the list of questions, in case you wanna ask more

#veronica sugar #vtm #vamily #vampire the masquerade #toreador #my ocs #ask #asks #my art

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lordofmelancholy · 12 hours ago

Text

Thoughts about Arcane Season2 and "bad writing" (Ramblings)

When you sit down and just think about it for a moment without people screaming in your ear

a lot of writing choices in Arcane make sense and works

Because they don't follow traditional tropes

they follow Real Life

Sometimes in life you dont talk to someone when you should Sometimes in life you dont make right decisions, or make right decisions people will think are wrong Sometimes in life bad people get away with things that you believe they shouldn't Sometimes in life people DIE in war you never expect Sometimes in life you dont NEED words to apologize, you need ACTIONS, especially in a world where words can be twisted and untrustworthy and not worth the dirt on your shoes.

I love Arcane SO MUCH because it does what no show really does anymore. It doesnt follow trope, it doesn't follow immediate reconciliation, or conversation or WHATEVER. It just lets these characters LIVE (and die) just like how the world turns.

No one is out of character because a person CAN NEVER BE out of character. You are never the same person day in and day out, your life REFUSES to allow you to do that because if it did you would NEVER adapt to change.

Its how you adapt to that change that is important Take Cait and how she is in Season 2 for an example

I don’t think it’s bad writing Not entirely One of the reasons I like Arcane is cause NO ONE is truly good or bad

(Cept maybe the few like Loris, Ekko)

Everyone is just morally grey, believing their doing right, but going about it in ways that aren’t

When they do right, they do right

When they do wrong you know it, but in the end I love that cause no creature, let alone people are ever one dimensional

But the ISSUES I’m having with the Caitvi side of the fandom is their ERASING what makes them good characters which is that MORAL dilemma side. So often you see people try to brush their issues under the rug, or water them down

AND THATS NOT WHAT ARCANE IS ABOUT it never was

Cait was Cassandra’s daughter The one person whose been there for her

Her death was basically what Silco said

It was the undoing of her daughter DO I like Cait

Yes I do She’s the perfect blend of morally delayed character that I love. But I don’t like what the fandom is DOING to her

Cait didn’t even honor her mother correctly when she went about her revenge

It doesn’t MATTER if she gassed just the chembarons and left the civilians alone It doesn’t MATTER if she thought she was doing right

Because she did something that Piltover ACTIVELY PROMISED THEY WOULD NEVER DO

She USED the gas, she used GREY

Piltover may have been absolute SHIT to Zaun But they at least KNEW that even the gas was too much Knew that if they used it they would hurt more then just the people they were aiming for

GAS doesn’t discriminate

It’s why even in the deadliest of war’s only the most vicious or determined to win EVER reverted to chemical warfare

Cait did it on a whim

But in the same breathe YOU cant only blame her

Blame Ambessa too She took a vulnerable person. Knew how to twist the tragedy she went through and turn it into something with her advantage

But people also seem to forget that Cait STILL had a moral code and she was learning from her mistakes

She CLOSED and forbade the use of the cells that Vi was subject to during her prison time

She called out Ambessa for instigating fights

SHE WAS FIGHTING WITH AMBESSA, turning her back on her when things got to terrible It wasn’t just

oh vi stared at her once and called her a petname

NO she was actively LOOKING for a way out from under Ambessa

and she found it

And it’s because of that I have to agree media literacy is at a all time low

Because if you ACTIVELY WATCH THE SHOW you realize things are not as face value cut-dry as they looked

S1 Cait NEVER left

S1 Cait is still present in S2 Cait

But the issue is we are seeing a side of Cait that is loosing her way and aligning herself with people who MAY act like their doing her right but aren’t and now she’s stuck in this loop of hell after hell after hell

Until the ONE greatest thing in her life, something that’s been constant in its support and love but not afraid to fight back with her when she thinks she’s wrong

came back

Vi came back during a time where Cait was once again lost in not knowing how to fix what she did wrong because now she was turning on Ambessa and had no one at her side

Vi literally just said cupcake and cait’s eyes widened to the point SHE ACTIVELY CRIES shortly after Vi called her that. Her eyes legit water if you look closely at her turn her head away.

And the best part is is Vi didnt just jump back into being steady with Cait

She didn’t trust her

until Caitlyn showed her she could be

#Arcane #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers

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oceanicwriting · 3 days ago

Text

new year.

part one. part two.

summary: the music, alcohol, and darkness. everything at that party felt a lot riskier, especially when the tension has been building for weeks now.

pairing(s): mattheo riddle x gryffindor!fem!reader

a/n: happy new year to everyone! here in chile it is two in the morning and this post is being published automatically, i will upload part two tomorrow at noon. enjoy :-).

mention of sex, tension, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at your body in the bedroom mirror. the white dress was tight in the right areas, highlighting your curves and good shape from quidditch practices. you put on the shoes you had chosen earlier, fix your hair a little more, and touch up the red lipstick. you were so ready.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you going dressed like that? —hermione granger, your sister one year older, studies your shape from head to toe. you knew she would disapprove, but you wanted to have fun that night regardless of what anyone says—. wouldn’t you rather wear something less revealing?

ㅤㅤㅤif there were two different sisters in the world, you were twice as much. your sister was always worried about getting good grades while you were worried about getting along with people. you weren’t a bad student because you have exceptional grades, but you cared about that world of vanity as much as the academic one.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what? —you ask, looking at his casual clothes. she didn’t look bad, but you get the feeling that she wore those same clothes to study the whole weekend before—. hermione...

ㅤㅤㅤ—don’t you dare judge me, young lady. —even though she was only a year older than you, she always treated you as if you were much smaller and naive—. we’re going with you to take care of you. nothing more.

ㅤㅤㅤyou smile and put on your best puppy eyes to convince her to change clothes.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't do that.

ㅤㅤㅤeven though she laughs in your face, you know that hermione's weakness is your big, bright eyes begging for something. and this time was no exception, allowing you to dress her like a rag doll in whatever clothes you wanted. she had refused some clothes that were too revealing to get out of her comfort zone, but you know your job was done when your friends come to pick you up in the dorm.

ㅤㅤㅤ—bloody hell! —exclaims ronald weasley, your sister's boyfriend and friend.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hermione... —harry potter, the other boy friend of both, looks at her perplexed by the change of style.

ㅤㅤㅤhermione is wearing a skirt and a tank top. actually, you think the surprise for the boys is the makeup that perfectly matches the jewelry you had lent her. she looks so different.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't make a scene —she says, exasperated. none of the boys seem to react to your sister's walk down the hall—. are you guys coming or what?

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh, patting the shoulders of the boys who were still mumbling in perplexity.

ㅤㅤㅤ—beautiful, isn't she? —both boys look at you, then you hit ron's face—. what a lucky man.

ㅤㅤㅤthe walk to the slytherin house, where the party had been organized for students who did not travel to their homes for the holidays, is done in complete silence. everyone is on alert in case the guards on duty find you wandering around. when you arrive, there is a boy leaning on one side of the wall that faces the snakes room, looking at you with a bad face.

ㅤㅤㅤ—invitations. —harry, who had been in charge of keeping them, shows them—. no one followed you?

ㅤㅤㅤyou deny.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen the boy at the door lets you in and you go down to the common room, you can feel a combination of smells accumulate at the tip of your nose. cigarette smoke, candle wax, beer and men's cologne are the ones that stand out the most. people were grouped in different places, some talking or sharing bottles of alcohol. everything looked a little greenish because of the candles burning flames of the same color.

ㅤㅤㅤas you walk with your friends, many of your classmates greet you, stopping you more than once to chat too much, causing hermione to drag you along to keep walking.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i told you not to get separated! —she shouts, getting closer to your ear so you can hear her. you hadn't noticed how loud the music was until that moment—. you can't get lost!

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, following the path to an area where ron had set aside seats.

ㅤㅤㅤthe truth is, with the music so loud and the discomfort of the moment, no one seemed to enjoy the night. harry hated having to shout over the music, hermione wasn't enjoying the way you didn't seem to hear anything from her and ron was sick of seeing everyone turn to look at his girlfriend.

ㅤㅤㅤ—can we go dancing? —you ask, leaning in close to your sister’s ear. hermione makes a face—. please.

ㅤㅤㅤshe looks at the small crowd of people in the center, moving against each other to the sound of the music.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, i didn’t come to sit. let’s go together or i’ll go alone.

ㅤㅤㅤ—fine, —she says, rolling her eyes and standing with you—. try to stay close, okay?

ㅤㅤㅤyou jump and follow the group into the tired bodies on the improvised dance floor. people never stop moving, accidentally bumping into each other and mixing their energies. your body just follows the rhythm, shaking shamelessly.

ㅤㅤㅤa few minutes later, a group of girls from your year approach to invite you to dance with them. hermione signals for you to do so, but you can still see her following you with her gaze while dancing with the boys. when she wasn't looking at you, you accepted the shots of alcohol that ran through your body like an instant energy boost. shortly after, when you try to look over your shoulder, you can't identify your friends among the people, but you don't go looking for them either because of the hands that stop at your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what the...? —as you turn around, you can see those familiar eyes—. mattheo.

ㅤㅤㅤhis lips curve into a sideways smile.

ㅤㅤㅤ—good night. —he doesn't have to shout for the thud of his robust voice to be heard over the music—. beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo riddle, with his hands tight on your waist, burning through the fine fabric of your dress, is devouring you no matter what. his lips curve the thin smile even more, gently pushing you against the crowd that makes its way into his presence. you could have said something, but there has always been that air between you that prevents you from protesting at the force of his walk.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come with me —he says, when you have left her and turn to look over your shoulder—. what is it, little granger?

ㅤㅤㅤyou wrinkle your nose at the nickname he has used since you two met.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't call me that.

ㅤㅤㅤhe laughs, sending a shiver through your entire body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'll bring you back safe and sound, you know that. —his hand grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him—. when have i not?

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at him, feeling his hand grab yours and pull it into a dark corner. your eyes can only define his dark silhouette, bright eyes, and scent. the feeling of his hands squeezing your hip again makes you jump.

ㅤㅤㅤ—will you repeat what you said last time?

ㅤㅤㅤhis hands travel to your thighs, picking you up and pinning your back to the wall. the guttural sound that comes out of his throat at your proximity makes you tremble.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what did i say? —you ask, smiling at the power of your voice in his breath.

ㅤㅤㅤ—didn't you say that next time you weren't going to make it so easy for me? —his face moves closer to your neck, pulling it aside to softly kiss some parts of your skin—. or wasn't that it?

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo and you weren't strangers sharing a crazy night of partying, although you weren't friends or lovers either. either of those sounded completely crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i was talking about studying, mattheo —you answer, sighing at the feeling of his wet lips against your neck—. in any case, can't a girl just change her mind?

ㅤㅤㅤfor weeks, you had been helping mattheo with his subjects by order of dumbledore. it had been a secret you had to keep because your friends would have forced you to refuse, and the snake itself had asked for it. as time went by, mattheo began to caress you, look at you, and praise you, making you lower your guard against his charms. so those desperate kissing sessions had not been a surprise to anyone.

ㅤㅤㅤ—is that why you follow me here as if nothing happened? —your hands squeeze the end of his hair, making him laugh—. desperate, right?

ㅤㅤㅤ—mattheo...

ㅤㅤㅤhis wet tongue collides with your hot flesh, going up from your collarbone to your cheek, forcing you to move your face in the middle of a smile. then, mattheo settles down, holding all your weight on his right arm and raising his other hand to direct your face towards his.

ㅤㅤㅤthe feeling of his lips pressing against yours, forcing his tongue inside and biting your lips like gum made you moan softly against him. in your ears, you could only hear the rubbing of clothes, lips smacking, and agitated breathing from both of you, stimulating every part of your body getting hotter and hotter.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i missed you so much, babe —he says against your lips, making you whimper when his hard cock hits your center—. so much... shit.

ㅤㅤㅤhis hand holding you squeezes your ass, making you move against his pelvis supporting part of your weight. a quick tickle runs through your body, but mattheo growls and stops holding you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm going to fuck you right here if you keep doing that shit —he says, making you laugh and catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

ㅤㅤㅤyou grab his neck, pulling him closer and slowly running your hands down his breasts. mattheo, thanks to the light coming from somewhere in your direction, can notice the way your whole face begs to be touched, and that drives him completely crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you don't...

ㅤㅤㅤand from one moment to the next, the boy disappears from your sight, being replaced by hermione's murderous gaze in the light.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you fucking kidding me? —mattheo questions, being pushed by ron weasley himself.

ㅤㅤㅤalthough you think his disappointed face is because his greatest enemies are pushing him so easily, mattheo can only have that face because you can't finish what you had started seconds ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what the fuck! —he exclaims, just as your sister grabs your arm—. what are you going to do?

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think you're doing?! —ron shouts, angry as if you were his own sister.

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo is pushed once again by harry, causing him to stumble against a table. the sound of bottles breaking against the floor makes you jump in your place.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think i was doing? kissing the prettiest girls in the place. —and her laughter, filling the place without music, makes you smile at the compliment—. now if she gives me permission, i'll kick your fucking butts.

ㅤㅤㅤand everyone looks at you. hermione can't have a more angry expression because she would tear the muscles on her face. on mattheo you can notice your lipstick staining his mouth, funny eyes, and the way his lips gesture the number five three times.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm sorry... —you says, denying the idea of him defending himself.

ㅤㅤㅤyou expected his expression to change, but it doesn't because he keeps looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i pay the price —he says, just before receiving two fists in his face.

ㅤㅤㅤand you knew that a long night of scolding awaited you. although, if everything went well, you could escape as mattheo pointed out to you before leaving the place.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle scenarios #slytherin boys #wizarding world #slytherin #harry potter

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kittenfangirl20 · 1 day ago

Note

Addict au

Adam felt his entire body shudder as he inhaled the long line of coke. He couldn’t believe how damn good it was. It was some kind of new type of coke on the market.

It was said to be so good the high would start immediately. To Adam’s pleasure they didn’t lie. Of course it would.

One of the main elements used to make it and have that effect came from the fallen angel himself.

His blood.

It might not be as strong as it would be if he were still holy but it produced a kick.

Val: Well how is it?

Adam glanced up to the man who helped produce the drug.

Adam: It’s good, really good.

Val: See what I tell you? Is it not the best thing that’s ever entered your anatomy? Besides sex that is.

Adam: It is now, don't forget our deal!

Val: You wound me little lamb, do you not have any trust for your own business partner.

Adam: We are NOT business partners. The deal is that I give you my blood and you give me the stuff for free.

Val: Exactly business partners

Adam scoffed and looked back down at the table with the tray of stuff.

Adam: What are you gonna call it anyway?

The man smirked, placing a hand on his hip.

Val: Angel’s blood has a nice ring to it. Don’t ya thing?

Adam merely rolled his eyes and packed up the stuff into his bag and prepared to head out.

Val: I’ll see you soon then?

Adam: Yeah…soon.

Without another word he marched right out of the overlords office and out of his building. As Adam trudged his way through the filthy streets of Hell fellow addicts lined up along the sidewalk, in the alley, and some in the middle of the fucking road he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Not that long ago Adam would have been disgusted with their behavior. Would have said that extermination was a kindness. They no longer suffer through their addictions if permanently dead.

But that was before Adam died during the extermination, woke up fallen, and began walking a mile in the sinners shoes. He wouldn’t say that sinners were all just poor unfortunate souls that only needed saving. Oh dear Lord no.

He simply had an understanding of them.

Maybe they were lost and so was he.

He never thought he’d stoop so low that he’d sell his own blood for a bag of dough. Yet here he was. That’s just what happens when you finally get your hands on something that’s never been available to you.

Soon you want more.

As ironic as it may be, it consumes you. The more you put into your body, the more you feel like you need. To help you relieve any pain in your life, even temporarily. Like it did for Adam.

Here in Hell, his life was nothing but pain. Well, his entire existence has been painful. But at least up on Earth and in Heaven he had people who cared and supported him.

Down here he had no one but himself. At one point during his first days down here he’d considered going to the hotel. Since she did claim redemption was possible for anyone who seemed it.

But that was before Adam got his hands on his first bottle. Then soon moved on to more hardcore stuff. And all his thoughts kept circling back to the truth whenever he thought about the hotel.

They’d never accept him.

Lucifer would never accept him.

Or worse they did and then what? He didn’t know but he didn’t want to find out. He stopped when he realized he made it to his rundown abandoned apartment complex.

He merely sighed and went in getting ready to hit himself up again.

Adam lay on the pitiful excuse for a bed after he took more drugs. It helped at least numb the pain and keep him mind off of the self loathing. But that wasn’t possible because tonight when he turned on the TV he saw a commercial for the Hazbin Hotel which included Lucifer in it. Seeing that made Adam start to cry.

Adam: Why couldn’t you just love me the way I love you.

But it wasn’t meant to be because he chose Lilith over him. Thinking of Lilith made Adam cry even more. Just thinking of the first woman always made Adam sad and fearful. Especially now that Lilith got to relax on the beaches of Heaven while Adam had to sell his blood for money and drugs. Adam cried himself to sleep. In the morning Adam woke up and stumbled out of bed to go and buy some groceries. He didn’t realize that he was spotted by Angel Dust who ran back to the hotel and went to both Charlie and Lucifer.

Angel: Look, I don’t know if we should be concerned or not. But I saw Adam at a local grocery store. He lost quite a bit of weight and he doesn’t look good. I think he is having a rough time in Hell.

Charlie: Dad, we need to help Adam. I know he attacked the hotel, but no one deserves to suffer like that.

Lucifer: I will go and talk to him, I just don’t know if he will listen to me.

The truth was that Lucifer had wanted to help Adam and apologize for everything.

@talesfromawannabewriter

#hazbin hotel #adam #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam/lucifer #adamsapple #guitarduck #minors dni

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sams-butt-dem0n · 2 days ago

Note

love the gang breaking up with reader hcs!! could we get hcs of them getting back together though😔

A/N: Hey guyssss! So sorry that i haven't posted in a while, I was enjoying some time off before the dreaded work ethic takes over haha. I have had SO MANY people ask this (by that I mean like 5) but that's a LOT fort me. I love this idea so i hope you like my writing of it :)

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DARRY would take such a long time to realise that he regrets breaking up with you purely because he is such a busy man that he barely has any time to think about something other than work work work. He wouldn't know where to begin, what to say, when he was gonna have the time to even speak to you properly.

Luckily for him, you just so happened to be passing by the store he works in on weekends and he caught a glance of your figure walking past.

"Y/n!" He shouts, catching your attention. You roll your eyes as soon as you see him.

"What, Darry?" You say, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, huh?"

"Look, y/n, please can I just talk to you," he says. "Give me five minutes."

"Five minutes. Max."

He takes a deep breath, looks down at his feet, and begins. "Look, y/n, I've been a real dickhead."

You nod. "Good start."

"I just want you to know that I never meant anything that I said to you. I was going through a lot of stress, you know how I get. I'm so beyond sorry. What is it gonna take for you to have me back?"

You chuckle and look up into his eyes, those eyes you had missed so much. "Oh, Darry," you say. "You don't need to beg for me back. I'll always be yours."

You pull him into a kiss, your arms around his neck and his around your waist.

"I love you."

SODAPOP would be running back to you the literal next day. He would sleep on what he had said and accused you of and immediately regret it in the morning. He would race out of bed, throw a comb through his hair and put whatever shoes he could pick up first on his feet before sprinting to your place.

He would bang at your window, most probably waking you up as it was about 8am on a Sunday and there was no way in hell you'd be up before 10.

"Soda? What the hell are you doing here?" You ask, anger layered in your voice.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," he says, tears rolling down his face. It killed you to see him like this. "Please forgive me. I know what I did was wrong and I'm so sorry that i fucked things up but please baby I need you to realise that I was just beating myself up for no reason. I would never think of you as a cheater I just-"

You needed to cut off his rambling. Soda, stop. Just get in here before you freeze to death."

PONYBOY doesn't even feel any form of regret until a good couple of moths later, the pressure of school had worn off and he was exposed to the harsh reality of what he had done. Of course, it's typical of a man to only realise what they have lost months too late but it was worth a shot. Within an hour, Ponyboy was stood at your door with a bunch of flowers, a personalised poem he had written just for you, and all of your favourite chocolates.

"Ponyboy, what are you-"

He cuts you off. "Y/n please don't say anything until I'm done. If you're gonna kick me off your porch, please just wait until I'm finished."

You nod and he begins to read out his poem, causing tears to gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks. Just like they had been doing for the past 73 days. He hands you a bunch of your favourite flowers halfway through his speech and continues, capturing your heart in a moment you shall never forget. How could you not forgive him after this?

DALLAS would take forever to even think of apologising to you and that's purely because of his bad boy ego he has going on. Like, what do you mean apologise? Do you know who he is? However, after about four months, Dallas finds a picture of the two of you from when you were together. You were sat beside him at the drive in, your legs laid over his and you had the largest beaming smile he had ever seen. God, he missed your smile. It was that moment where he realised he had thrown everything away.

And that's how you ended up in this moment, a beaten up and bloody Dallas Winston stood at your doorstep, begging for you to forgive him.

"please, y/n, I need you back," he says, spitting blood from between his lips. "I need you to say that everything is okay."

You weren't going to give in. Not until he said it.

"Please," he says, looking at you with such desperation in his eyes. Those eyes you had come to love endlessly.

He needed to say it. He still hadn't said it. Please, say it, Dallas, you thought.

"I'm sorry."

Without hesitation, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips against his; his arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you close. He had finally got you back.

JOHNNY would be exactly like Sodapop, realising he made a huge mistake immediately after he made it. However, due to his home life and lack of confidence in any scenario, Johnny would have no clue how to apologise or even approach you. Because of this, he asks Dallas, his best buddy, for help. Why on Earth you would ask Dallas Winston for relationship advice is anyone's guess, but he did it either way.

Surprisingly enough, Johnny's effort was very much appreciated by Dallas and he genuinely helped him develop a plan that wasn't completely offensive. Johnny obviously recognised and cut out the parts that were. And so, he knocked at your bedroom window after climbing up the gutter, and you welcomed him in, your eyes still sore from all of the crying you had done.

"Johnny? Why are you here?" You ask, sitting him down on your bed and pacing around your room, not knowing how to feel about the situation. Relieved? Happy? Angry?

"I missed you," he says. "and I'm sorry."

STEVE would spend weeks upon weeks mulling over the fact that he had not only ended things with you, but ended them over the phone. He didn't get to hug you one last time. He didn't get to kiss you goodbye. He didn't even see your face when he had told you that it was over. He didn't have to see the hurt - he heard it. He could hear your heart sink to your stomach; he could hear the tears spill down your cheeks, your sweet rosy cheeks; he could feel the anger running through your blood. He hated himself for it. So much so that he was pushing everyone away as punishment to himself, even Soda.

Fortunately, Soda had had enough of Steve being so depressed about what he had done that he went to fetch you himself. You were minding your own business in your bedroom when your mother came to tell you that someone was at the door for you. Expecting it to be one of your girlfriends, you ran to the door to greet her but when you were faced with Sodapop Curtis, your smile dropped.

"Oh, hey Soda," you say, coldly.

"Y/n, I know you want nothing to do with Steve anymore but-"

"No." You say. "I don't care what you have to say. That asshole deserves whatever is coming to him."

"Pleaser, y/n." Soda begs. "Just talk to him for five minutes."

And that's how you ended up sat on the Curtis's couch, alone in the living room with none other than Steve Randle. Obviously, all of the boys were listening at the door.

"Y/n, I've been such a fool," Steve begins, making you chuckle.

"You can say that again."

"I've missed you so much," he admits. "And I am so sorry for what I did to you. I know you can't possibly forgive me straight away but I'm begging you - give me one month to prove myself to you. Just one month, that's all I ask."

You sigh, look down at your hands and then back up at him. "Fine. One month."

You knew whatever he had planned was going to bring you right back. And that is why you said yes.

TWOBIT would win you back almost instantly. He was just the kind of person that you couldn't stay mad at. No matter how badly he had hurt you, the second he knocked on your car window at the drive-in, you knew you were screwed.

"I've noticed you avoiding me, you know?" He says, cocking his head to the side, looking around your car to see you're alone.

"Well done, Columbo," you say. "Do you want a gold star?"

He nods. "Yeah, that would actually be pretty beneficial."

You hated him. (You really didn't).

"Are you gonna let me in or what?" He asks. "I hope you know I'm not gonna leave until you let me in."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you crazy?"

He gives you a look as if to say 'Did you really just ask me that?'. He sighs. "Please just let me in."

You unlock the door and allow him to sit in the passenger seat beside you. You had never heard a silence so deafening.

"I'm sorry," he says. "You that I'm sorry."

It's true, you did know, because every time you saw him on the streets he would look at you with his pleading, begging eyes that you love so much.

"I know," you reply. "But how do I know you won't hurt me again."

I promise you with every inch of my being that I will never fuck you over," he says, grabbing your hand and looking into your eyes. "Please."

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heizenka · 3 days ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

➳ bakugou katsuki x f!reader

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

— content warnings: angst, mentions of death, motorcycle crash

— word count: 2k

The cool breeze in the air chilled my bones as I sat on the wooden bench, facing the frozen lake. My body began to burn from how cold it was, but no matter how icy the wind felt I wouldn’t allow myself to leave until I hit that 5 hour mark. Hearing a small chittering sound, I looked to my left and saw a small chipmunk. It lay almost frozen in the snow, its tiny body shaking with cold chills from the air.

Silently, I stood up from the bench and knelt in front of the small mammal, removing my hands from the warmth of my pockets, went to pick it up. My brows pulled together in confusion. When I reached down to grab the small rodent, all my fingers touched was the ice cold snow, I looked down at my hands for a second, then back at the chipmunk only to find, it was gone? What just happened..?

“It’s confusing, right? The mind seems to follow its own rules when it starts to run on overdrive.” Inhaling a quick breath I turned my body to find who the voice came from, almost losing my balance as I looked. There’s no one there.

“I mean at least that's what I learned from my experience, you may be different, but I doubt it. We are pretty much the same.” My heart felt like it was in my throat as I once again looked to face the source of the voice.

This time there was a boy, he had pale skin, and ash blonde hair. He looked me directly in the eyes, awaiting my response, almost daring me to talk back. His eyes felt like a trap as I remained silent, continuing to just stare. The blazing red color of them somehow felt like sitting by a warm fire, eradicating the chill that had previously owned my body.

“Hey. Are you just going to stare or are you going to speak? I know you of all people have the capability to do so.” I focused my eyes on his face as a whole rather than just his eyes now. Light freckles contrasted his skin, sticking on like a constellation.

“You keep talking to me like you know me. Who are you?” His face dropped a little, the careless facade he previously played into cracking ever so slightly. A breathy laugh left his mouth, the vapor of his breath dancing in the cold air as it disappeared.

“You were with me when we got stuck here, and you can’t even remember who I am.” He scoffed before continuing, “You don’t remember the crash? You don't remember us?” His brows furrowed even more. I didn’t even think that was possible. His pointed stare remained on my face, if looks could kill I would be more than six feet under.

“What does that even mean? Rather than speaking in puzzles, I would rather you just tell me directly what you mean.” His hard stare lightened, as if he finally understood what was happening. Any traces of annoyance he’d previously held were now replaced with a gentle frown, he looked almost like he felt pity for me. Wait pity? Why the hell does he feel bad, I don’t even know who he is?

Without even realizing, my head had dropped, I was now looking at my shoes in the snow. My confusion continued to grow as my thoughts began to race once more.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it, “Your body probably feels a little sore? Like it’s an aching pain that won’t go away, am I right?” He spoke again, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Yeah, how did you know that?” My thoughts began racing more than a mile a minute, “Did you do something to me? Wait, why are you even here?!” I felt like I had a million questions, yet those were the only ones able to escape my cluttered head right now.

“Hey, hey, I promise I didn’t do anything,” He rushed his words as he raised his hands in defense, attempting to calm me before I ran to any more conclusions, “You and me, we’re in the same boat. C’mon Y/N, you know me.” He held an almost pleading look on his face.

“I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about,” My voice wavered, a slight rush flooded my body, what is happening? “I don’t even know your name!”

Looking back, I can’t even seem to remember how I got here. When did I get here.. Why was I even here in the first place? I was able to vaguely remember something about five hours and having to sit here, but everything before that is blurry.

His hands reached out for mine, gently taking them into his. I lifted my head up from where it previously was, staring at the ground, silently looking into his eyes I heard a scream echo in the back of my mind. Trying to focus my attention on the scream I tuned into the flashing images going through my mind.

I was on a motorcycle, the back of it to be more specific, a boy was driving it as I had my arms wrapped around his torso. He looked back at me over his shoulder through the dark plastic of the helmet that covered his head, I lifted my head slightly to meet his eyes. The soft smile I held on my face shifted to one of horror as I looked past him, to the road we were driving on, a large patch of ice covered the road less than 5 feet in front of us.

“Kats the road-!” I screamed, tapping his shoulder trying my hardest to get his eyes back on the road so there was a chance of us not slipping on the icy road.

He immediately looked forwards, eyes on the road, but it was too late for him to stop the bike. We had been going at least 75 on the road, the bike had too much speed and momentum for him to attempt slowing down without throwing us off the bike. I tightly wrapped my arms around his waist, squeezing my eyes closed, praying to any whatever would listen that we would make it out of this.

I felt Katsuki’s breath hitch before he let out a soft “I’m so sorry.” A tear slid down my face silently as I squeezed his abdomen.

I heard the crash, but my vision began to return to the current reality I was in. My eyes were locked on between us, looking at where our hands met. My hands shook, which caused him to look away from my face, and down to where our hands intertwined. He tightened his grip on my hands, in an attempt to seize their trembling. How could I forget, Katsuki. My Kats. SIlent tears fell down my face at the revelation. The same boy I loved. And now the boy that killed me. Sniffling my nose, I inhaled a deep, cold breath and pulled my hands away. His face contorted from a look of concern, into one of sadness.

“Are you mad at me?” He looked at me with sad eyes, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I know you didn’t want to get on in the first place and I made you, but I didn’t think-” His rambling cam to a stop when took a step backwards, needing as much space between me and him as I could get.

“Y/N, please!” He pleaded, his warm breath mingling in the cold air, making it almost look like a small cloud. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. You have to know I didn't plan this.” His eyebrows upturned, the expression looked like one you would find on a beggar on the side of the roads, asking for money.

I nodded my head back and forth, “You killed me,” My voice started soft, tinted with a deep sadness, “I didn’t even want to go on that damned bike but you made me! And you know what Bakugou? I’M DEAD BECAUSE OF IT!”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was trying to find the words to say, but it seemed that he came up empty every time. His mouth closed for a final time, I guess he finally gave up. He looked down at me, clearly given up but his eyes still held little hope of the idea that I might forgive him.

“I can’t forgive this. I was seventeen, and you took my entire future from me. I’ll never get to see my parents again. I'll never get to walk across the stage at graduation with all of my friends.” I took a pause to breathe, it felt pointless though, seeing as I was dead. “I need time to grieve for myself before I do anything else.” He nodded, in agreement, his brown hair moving at the motion.

“I’ll find you when I’m ready. But that’s just not right now.” A shaky breath left his lips, before he once again nodded.

“Okay. I will always be here. Always” He spoke, watching as I put a tight smile on my face before taking another step backwards and turning around.

I had no idea where I was going to go, but I needed space. I heard him let out a pained sob behind me. My heart constricted in my chest, begging my body to turn around and go back to him, to forgive him and lift this pain from off his shoulders. But this was his guilt to carry, and he’d had to spend the rest of his time in this limbo living with it, while I had to speed the rest of my time wondering what it would have been like if I had never left my home on that snowy day.

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