#grow up!! and take some anger management courses if you can’t do that

[sassygwaine]

here is a list of things drivers can do to make me slow down even more when crossing the street or otherwise pausing traffic:

honk at me

yell at me

turn while i’m still in the crosswalk

continue rolling through the crosswalk as though the mere presence of your motor vehicle is enough to relieve the reason i am walking so slowly in the first place

you can put nudge your bumper into my fucking legs it is not going to make me go any faster

[vegan-peppermint]

Your Boyfriend's Bed

Pairing: Hoodie x Masky'sGF!Reader

Fandom: Marble Hornets

Genre: Smut MDNI

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cheating, creampie, rough sx, P in V

Summary: Your boyfriend is a B, but his best friend's there to take your side.

Part 2 here

Author's Note: After a three-year hiatus, I finally found the inspiration to write again—thanks to this incredible fanfiction. It sparked something in me. I can’t recommend it enough, so please show the creator some love. Their work is the reason I’m writing again after all this time. This fic is inspired by their masterpiece, so I highly encourage you to check it out first!

________________________________

More often than not, you were a collateral victim in your boyfriend and his friend’s fights. Tim and Brian were too close for your liking, they had a great co-dependency going on way before you came in the picture. If Brain was in a bad mood, so was Tim. If you got in a fight with Tim, Brian was giving you the silent treatment as well as taking sides without hesitation.

It was more than you bargained for, not realising getting Tim as a boyfriend meant taking responsibility for his grown-ass best friend as well. But you managed. With each month that passed in your relationship it was getting easier for you, to the point it was almost natural to consider them both in every action you took. 

Weirdly enough, you so much preferred for them to be mad at you instead of at each other. Whenever their balance wavered they started acting batshit crazy. Tim confessed some details about their ‘alternative’ life after- what, a year in you relationship? 

You didn’t fully grasp what he meant by their “alter egos” or their nighttime escapades, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to. You had your suspicions, of course. You weren’t blind. But as long as they didn’t outright spell it out for you, you could continue living in blissful ignorance. It was easier that way, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it.

But today—today was different. Today, things had escalated to an entirely new level.

Tim was screaming at Brian, who was cloaked in that damned creepy hood that made him look so unsettling. Tim's anger seemed to grow by the second, and when “Hoodie” (as you suppose you should call him now) refused to react, it only fueled Tim’s rage.

You tried to calm him down, talk to him or something- anything.

A strained, guttural laugh escaped Tim, trembling with anger. He started explining to you how you do not even begin to understand what has happened, how you should just shut up and not get involved- his voice full with disdain, every sentence designed to belittle and assert his supposed superiority. 

Now you are not the one to get angry easily, but this time- this time something in you snapped. You were done being talked down to, done being made feel small or pathetic for just wanting some peace.

“No wonder he would not bother to have your back when you act like such a prick.”

“Oh, just shut up you bit-,” his words faltered as he caught himself mid-sentence, swallowing the insult faster than a politician trying to cover his tracks.

You cannot recreate what was spoken after that word for word, just that all hell broke loose. It was no longer a fight between Tim and Brian- no, it wasn’t just them anymore. It was you and Hoodie against Tim. You were screaming and throwing your every angry complaint you had been holding in for far too long. And Hoodie- Hoodie of all people- was backing your every word, every statement. However, Hoodie’s remark is what really sealed and shipped Tim’s whole spirit.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so frustrated with her boyfriend in my life, Masky. Can only imagine you’re lacking in some aspects.”

The words hit harder than anything you had said. They were cold, calculated, and aimed straight at the core of Tim’s pride. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a moment, Tim stood there, trembling with the weight of the accusation. His face twisted in disbelief, but the damage had already been done.

What followed between the two of them was pure madness. Shouting, shoving, items flying off shelves—everything seemed to spin out of control. Pushing, pulling, voices rising higher and higher, until the tension reached a breaking point. Tim’s eyes flickered with something darker, something unstable, before he turned to grab his mask and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls.

Well, this has happened this morning. You realise you could’ve done things differently, not taking sides or waiting for their fight to end before starting your own. That was your mistake. But leaving you hurt and angry with only Hoodie to comfort you was his.

________________________________

You were on all fours on your boyfriends bed, face buried in his pillows. Hoodie’s gloved hand pushed down on your back arching it more- your ass rising higher. 

Your clothes were littering the floor from the doorway to the edge of the bed, the cold air tickling your bare skin. Your eyes landed on the wardrobe’s mirror showing your helpless reflection with Hoodie’s tall frame behind you. He was completely dressed from his boots to the black mask that covered his face- he was glacial. 

His left hand- formerly on your back-  grabbed your hip harshly. He dragged the other painfully slow across your side- from ass, to waist and finally around your breast. You whimpered at the harsh feeling of his gloves palming your tits. 

“So sensitive…” he sighed. The nub was hardening against his touch making it easier for him to pinch or gently twist your nipple. 

You inhaled sharply trying to steady yourself but being met with Tim’s smell wasn’t helping. “H-Hodie...” you whined. 

His hands left your body and you heard his pants zipper opening. You tried to push yourself on your forearms, an instinct to turn around and see what you were dealing with, but before you could make a move a firm grip grabbed at the back of your neck. The sharp tug sent shivers down your spine as Hoodie yanked your head back. With a swift flick of his wrist, he let go of your nape only to have his fingers dart into your hair. His grip was certain and precise. “You’re way to eager to get on another man’s cock.” Your face was shoved once again back into the mattress. 

He was watching you excitedly as he brushed his tip across your folds- a groan escaping his lips when he felt how wet you already were. There was something primal about knowing you belonged to someone else yet he got to claim you as his right now. 

“Be quiet now,” he instructed sliding his cock inside you. You tried your best, you swore you did but he was so- big. Your eyes rolled upwards and your fingers gripped tightly at the sheets as you tried your best not to scream. His cock pressed deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you in ways you did not even imagine possible. “You moan like a whore,” he growled with a final push. You felt your face blushing in shame- he talked to you in ways you would've never allowed your boyfriend, but on his lips those words felt so natural; almost like praises.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, the sound gentle but insistent. You were already panting and crying just by the size of him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him being balls deep inside your aching cunt but your whines wouldn’t stop. He leaned over you, the rough material of his clothes scratching your soft skin. His hand reached to the side of your face, you thought he wanted to wipe away the tears that were sliding down your cheeks. He chuckled, his hand covering your mouth instead. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, sweetheart.” 

________________________________

“Fuck, fuck- fuck! Feels so- Agh!~” 

You were screaming so fucking loudly. Your head was bumping to the ruthless rhythm of Hoodie’s thrusts. His fingers left red marks all over your ass, your hips- he was tugging at your body merciless, squeezing and scratching every inch of skin he could find. 

With trembling hands you tried your best to hold onto the bed frame as Hoodie was rutting into you from behind. His balls were hitting your swollen clit so hard- again and again and- “Am so close- so close, so close!”  Jaw was hanging open, you were gasping for air. 

“Fucking whore,” Hoodie sighed grabbing your neck with one hand, the other searching for your open mouth. “Bet he never fucked you this good, eh?” He gave a sinister chuckle as he shoved his fingers down your throat. You followed his cruel pull falling back on his torso. He was squeezing at the sides of you neck reminding you how little and vulnerable you are right now, “You only breath right now- scream and cry- you only feel this good because I allow you to.”

You whine taking him even deeper, his cock slaming your walls faster. His fingers explored your mouth pressing down your tongue, his grip thightend. 

“I could snap your neck right now, you know?”

You cry out loud in desperation, surrenedring control to him completely. Your eyes shut in anticipation, every muscle in you tightens-

“Say who you really belong to, who fucks you like a bitch in heat,” he snarls. “Say my name.”

And you do. Over and over again you do as your gummy walls squeeze around his length unbearably thight, waves of pleasure wash all over you. Hoodie’s hands allow you to gasp for air just for a second as they move under your arms grabbing you by the shoulders. His sudden body weight pushed you on your belly, fucking you deeper into the matress. His thrusts grow sloppy and desparate with no regard towards you- he was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“I’ll pump you so full of cum, MY cum-” Muffled sounds rose from deep in his chest, you were able to hear his clenched teeth through the sharp breaths he took. “Breed you so good you’ll be ruined- Fuck-” he whimpered. “Ruined for Tim,” his thrusts are brutal and harsh and- so goddamn overwhelming. 

His cum shots in hot strings, his member twitching inside your ruined cunt. His hands pull you closer and hips push further trying to get as deep as possible- deeper than Tim at least. 

You felt bad for comparing but the way he feels on top of you, in you- he fucked you in ways your boyfriend never could. When you tried to shift he grabbed a fistful of your hair forcing your head back. With lazy motions he started fucking his cum deeper.

“I didn’t tell you you could fucking move yet.”

//

This is my first fic since, what- 2021? Wow. Crazy.

I'll keep on writing my usual content as well, but creepypastas and gore-y stuff has always been something I wanted to write but never felt confident enough before. Anyways, feel free to request or send me any message, I came back from my hiatus! Never thought I'd say that lol.

[mayanneaa]

always and (not) forever - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.

PAIRING : rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY : rafe breaks up with you right after you get accepted to stanford university.

WARNING(S) : angst, swearing, not really proofread

A/N : can you tell i just watched to all the boys: always and forever? (divider by @roseraris )

WC : 0.7k

masterlist.

Your heart’s pounding more and more as you click on the email you just got.

It’s late at night, only the crickets outside accompanying your growing emancipation. You squeeze the hem of your pajama shirt, biting your lip almost to blood.

This is the moment you’ve been waiting for forever— the week of acceptance letters from Stanford.

You can’t really remember when exactly you decided that a university across the whole country was good for you. It just… happened.

Your boyfriend, Rafe, wasn’t particularly excited for you to study so far away since he wanted to go to the one in-state. You managed to convince him that you’ll be well.

The email is long, but after the first words, you don’t even bother reading more. You got in.

A scream escapes your lips, quickly muffled by your hands. You sit there wide-eyed, the faint light of your laptop’s screen falling on your face.

“Oh my God.”

You immediately grab your phone, trembling fingers dialing Rafe’s number. He answers faster than the first ding.

“What’s up, baby?” His voice’s a little raspy and low as if he was falling asleep.

“I got into Stanford,” you whisper, the words feeling unreal once they leave your mouth. “Can you believe it, Rafe?”

He doesn’t say a single word before he lets out a faint hum. “That’s… great. I mean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yeah, of course!”

There’s a silence— a moment where you can let your emotions cool off a bit, followed by Rafe clearing his throat.

“Actually… Can we meet?”

You knit your eyebrows. His voice is steady but distant. Something you haven’t heard in a while. “Like, right now?”

Rafe hums in response, and you feel the confusion bubbling up. “Well, if you want to you can come over, but be quiet. My parents are asleep.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

You hang up the phone, your hand lingering as you glance at the laptop screen.

Was Rafe overthinking this whole ‘distance’ thing once again?

You’ve already told him a million times that it will work out. So why the sudden change of mind?

You slip your feet into your slippers and grab a hoodie you throw on on the stairs.

The light from Rafe’s motorcycle flashes through the windows, a quiet buzz filling the natural silence. You quickly open the door and get outside, a chilly breeze hitting your bare legs.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, crossing your arms on your chest.

Rafe takes off his helmet and looks at the ground. “I think we should break up before you go to Stanford.”

You grimace, scrunching your nose. “What are you talking about? Rafe, we’ve been through this. I know it’s hard to be this long distance, but we can do it—”

“No.” The word comes out of his mouth so quickly, you gasp under your breath. “Honestly, how do you see that? Going from what we are now, from me getting to your door in five fucking minutes to seeing each other once God knows how much time?”

“But… you agreed to that earlier…”

“I was wrong,” Rafe says as quietly as a whisper, his voice cracking. “I’m not going to watch it all fall apart in two, four, or even six months. It’s better if we just end it now.”

You squeeze your arms and clench your jaw so tight it almost hurts.

How dare he just stand there, not even looking at you, as your life seems to split in two?

“Don’t say that, Rafe. You don’t mean it…” You say, your voice is small, but you know better than this. Rafe doesn’t just say things.

“I do.”

Two words. Those two words were enough to let the tears pushing onto your eyelids fall.

“Are you serious? After all we’ve been through, you leave me because of some stupid belief that we will not make it?” You sigh, anger spilling out with each breath you take.

“Go, Rafe. I don’t want to see your face.”

He inhales sharply as if you just slapped him. Maybe you should’ve done that. Instead, you turn on your heels and storm into the house, not giving Rafe another glance.

All you hear is the engine running, and the quiet sound of your heart breaking.

taglist :

@amterasuu

[mondaymelon]

— 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 "𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲". ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, wanderer x gn!reader:

⤷ cw: fluff. that's just about it

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

“Love, where are you?”

XIAO appears almost instantly by your side, albeit looking the slightest confused - his puzzlement written all over his face as he glances at you with his gilded gaze. “I told you to call my name if you needed me, so why are you…”

You beam at his response, suddenly throwing your arms around him, to which he hesitates, then returns your embrace. “Because you’re the one I love, silly!” Leaning forward, you give the adeptus a light peck on the cheek, withdrawing as fast as you advanced.

Touching a gloved hand to his flushed face, the male stays silent for the count of three before speaking once more, “...You’re really so embarrassing at times…”

“Aw, you didn’t want me to call you that…?” Figure slumping, you pout, giving him sad eyes.

“...N-No, that’s… not what I meant.” Of course he can’t refuse you when you’re looking at him with such a sparkling, innocent adoration glowing in your eyes.

“So I can call you that, then?”

This earns you a long sigh from the stoic man, but his expression shows no exasperation. “Must all you mortals be so trivial?”

“Ah, just give me an answer…”

Has he been waiting for this moment? Perhaps he has, for now Xiao leans forward and returns your kiss from before with one of his own, the lightest smile gracing his lips.

“...Do whatever you’d like, love.” ♥

“Love, what are you up to?”

It takes KAZUHA a ten second pause to respond, glancing up from the book he’s reading in the dim lamplight of the Crux residencies. “...Me?” The way he’s blinking so rapidly is almost humorous.

“Who else?” You smile playfully at him, shifting closer to his tensed figure to get a peek over his shoulder, trying to glance at what he’s reading so diligently. “Of course I mean you, love.”

It’s hard not to tease him when his expression is so flustered. He’s quite the calm man, but this once, your antics have managed to catch him off guard.

It takes another moment for the male to meet your gaze, but when he does, his crimson eyes sparkle as red dusts his cheeks. “Haha, you really do always catch me by surprise, don’t you? It’d do me well to fetch myself a piece of paper and a pen now… I’m sure I wouldn’t want to forget this moment.” 

Setting down his book next to him, he leans into your body, smiling at your warmth. Moments like these are bliss, where no words are shared, yet the two of you reside comfortably in each other’s presence.

When he quietly glances up at you, the shimmering affection in his eyes is startlingly apparent. 

“That’s what I love about you, dove.”  ♥

“Love, c’mon, look at me…”

And just like that, your words have drawn WANDERER in once more. His expression is enraged, that’s for sure, but the slight flush on his cheeks, almost hidden by his hair, is undeniable.

“Wh-” He pauses, whipping around, eyes wide. “What do you think you’re doing, calling me by such… frivolous titles…!” Strange, why is he acting like you’ve committed some sort of grave offense?

“Hm? But love, what’s wrong?” You smile, practically beaming as the anger on his face only grows more apparent.

“Oh- You- You know exactly what you’re doing, aren’t you? Listen here…” And just like that, his stuttering tone shifts. Suddenly his gaze is cold as it's now trained on you. “Who do you think you are, to assume that you are to call me such names?”

Perhaps you know, or perhaps you don’t. Names carry an obscure value to the male, one that he can’t even begin to unravel. After all, he is one of many names as well… Kunizukushi, Scaramouche… and now, Wanderer. Each of those titles that seem to shape just who he is, molding his identity with each letter.

So for you to call him that word so carefreely…

He’s not exactly sure how it feels, but there’s a knot in his chest, right where his heart would be.

“…Sorry.” You sheepishly sigh. “That was unbecoming. I didn’t realize you’d be so… sorry.”

Ah, look what he’s done. Now you’re apologizing for his problem. And before he knows it, the words slip through his mouth, true to the feeling that’s beginning to overwhelm him.

“No, don’t apologize.”

“Just… tell me, how should I be feeling right now?”

“It’s hard to think, and for some reason, my face is all red…” ♥

(a/n) not scara being the only one who doesn't call you a name back 💀

[noxitsnox]

I can’t fall asleep without you

hyun-ju x gn!reader

summary: after disappearing for days, your girlfriend comes back home.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, transphobia and police incompetence , like one curse word

a/n: studying is for weaks, real alpha men (me) write hyun-ju x readers instead. seriously tho, i fear this might be full of grammatical errors but i'm too tired to proof read and correct them ㅠㅠ

also she didn't win the game, it's as if she and everyone else managed to escape after ep. 7 ‼️‼️

today it was your four year anniversary.

or at least it should have been. it would have been if hyun-ju didn't just disappear into nothingness. you couldn't help but be angry. you saved up for months to afford taking her to a really nice restaurant in the centre, called to make a reservation at the beginning of the year. you would've never guessed that you'd spent this day without her.

when you woke up that morning, the morning she disappeared, you were surprised by hyun-ju not being on bed by yourside. usually she'd wake up with you and you two would have breakfast together before leaving for work. even if it was weird you didn't think anything of it. probably she just left earlier for work, she always tried to do some extra shifts when it was possible. you sent her a 'good morning' text and went on with your day.

when you checked your phone during lunch break hyun-ju had not replied your text yet. hell, she didn't even see it. anger, frustration, worry started to make their way all the way up to your mind. but you forced yourself to calm down and think logically. was it strange that she didn't answer? of course it was, but maybe she just didn't have lunch yet, or her phone was dead or she forgot it in the car. it was strange, sure, but not illegal. it didn't matter, because at the end of the day she'd come back home to you.

or so you thought.

that night she never came home. she didn't answer your texts, she didn't pick up your calls... with all the things you heard on the news, all that violence and hate that was slowly growing in the street you were afraid she was attacked. what if she was hurt? what if she needed you to be by her side?

so you called all the hospital of the cities asking for her. none of their patients had her name or fitted her description.

every possible scenario came into your mind. anxiety, panic, fear didn't allow you to think rationally. you wanted to just storm out of the house and go to the police station. but it was still too early to involve the police. you forced yourself to sleep, you would have reported her missing the next day after work.

for some reason, you really believed that the police would help you. why wouldn't they care about a missing person? you almost forgot hyun-ju and you weren't élite citizen, the ones the police cares about, the ones who deserved to be saved.

you went there stressed and afraid, with a trembling voice you told them that hyun-ju didn't come home in two days, that she's not answering the phone and that she never talked about wanting to just leave. holding your heart in your hands you told them your worries only to be met with laughter and judgement.

the policeman told you with a grin that it was useless to do anything, that she's probably just ran away with some rich old man, after all that's what these people do. he told you you were wrong for trusting one of them, to stop waisting time chasing after her and to start looking for a normal partner.

when you returned home you were furious.

hyun-ju, she wasn't that kind of person. they spoke ill of her without knowing anything. she didn't just leave. she couldn't have done it. if something was wrong in the relationship she would've just talked to you. why wouldn't she?

for the first time since all of this happened, you cried. you sat on the couch on the small living room and observed your surroundings. all of her things were still there, exactly where she left them. her black heels were still by the door from your night out nights ago, on the coffee table was the book she was reading with a bookmark towards the centre, her cardigan gently laying on the back of a chair at the dining table...

you spent the next days in misery. you called in sick at work and stared at the ceiling all day. holding the phone in his hand all the time, anxiously waiting for her name to pop up on the screen. Every time you got a message your hopes would rise, only to vanish completely when you saw your mother's name.

eventually a friend came to check on you. they asked how you were doing, you told them what happened, they said hyun-ju was a bitch, you got angry and screamed at them to leave the house.

after they left, you did felt bad about yelling. after all they were just trying to help you. and they did. you needed to take control back. laying on bed won't make hyun-ju come back.

you quickly sent them a message to apologize before hopping in the shower. you started tidying up the house, cleaning the kitchen and putting away the clothes in that black hole you call a closet. even cooked too much rice for dinner, after four years you weren't used to one person portions anymore.

looking in the mirror you said you were doing this for yourself, but in the back of your mind you knew who you were actually doing this for.

you didn't even notice how tired you were until you sat on the couch to clean up the coffee table. with the rag still in your hand you fell asleep.

you dreamed of summer, warm sun hitting your skin and wet hair. the orange color of the sun's rays reflected on the sea and on your faces. hyun-ju's hair were up in a ponytail, her white t-shirt stuck to her skin and a wide smile was printed on her face.

you remembered this day. it was your first summer together and you managed to rent a small apartment near the beach for a couple of days. you spent those days in your own world made of chattering and laughter.

a sudden noise disturbed the image that had been created, it was external to the dream.

you tried to ignore it but it only got louder and louder until you opened your eyes. with the typical confusion that comes when you've just woken up, it took you a while to realize that someone was knocking at the door.

you looked at the clock on the wall. it was barely 5 in the morning. you cursed under your breath as you walked toward the door. who the hell would knock on someone's door so early in the morning?

looking through the peephole a shiver ran down your spine.

was this still a dream or was it really her?

you opened the door energetically. hyun-ju was actually standing there in front of you. hair in a messy ponytail, she was wearing a green tracksuit stained with blood and dirt and white shoes. she looked shaken, as if she could have started crying at any moment.

you freezed in front of the door, unable to move or say anything. you didn't know what you were supposed to do, how to feel. part of you wanted to be mad, but how could you be mad at her when she looked like that?

you noticed that she was shaking, her arms wrapped around her body trying to gather as much heat as possible. she kept her gaze down, as if she were ashamed to be there, right in front of you.

"hyun-ju...", you finally talked. your voice was a whisper audible only to the two of you. you moved to let her pass through the door. "it's cold. come inside." she didn't say anything. the more you looked at her the more she looked like a ghost of herself.

neither of you sat down. you were standing in front of each other in silence. minutes that seemed like hours passed before she spoke. she told you she was gonna shower, change into clean clothes before leaving you alone in the living room.

when she got out of the bathroom she looked more like herself. she sat at the kitchen table and you put a cup of the tea you made while waiting in front of her before taking a seat next to her.

"y/n-" "where have you been?" you interrupted her, sounding harsher that intended. she shook her head, "it's not important right now... you wouldn't believe me anyway." "it's not important, hyun-ju? you're telling me it's not important, seriously-" this time she was the one who interrupted you, rising her voice to match yours. "y/n c'mon i just came back i don't feel like fighting."

you got up from the table, walked a few step away to calm down. part of you recognized that this wasn't the best way to have this conversation, but you couldn't hold back any longer, all the emotions that had accumulated in your heart these days took over.

"i can't believe you. you were gone! for days you disappeared from earth, you wouldn't even answer your phone and when came back your clothes were covered in blood!"

she sighed but didn't say anything so you continued.

"do you know how worried i was? i called very hospital, i even went to the police but you were nowhere to be found. i thought you were dead, hyun-ju... dead!" without realizing it you started crying.

there was silence before she spoke. "y/n i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry", she got up and walked closer to you, wrapping her arms around you. "i didn't think i'd be gone for this long. but i'm here now, i won't go anywhere." from her voice you could say she was crying too. "i'll tell you what happened, but tonight please let me just forget about it."

you broke the hug to look up in her eyes. "do you promise you'll tell me everything?" "i do, i promise."

[thanosscross]

All for show 3/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x American! Pop-Star! Reader

Summary: After being caught by your manager, Christopher, for leaving the country, you're left with a big decision to make, stay in Korea, and risk everybody's jobs, or go back to America and kiss your new dream life goodbye.

Warnings: Some Angst for your lovelies!

Staying with Seung Hyun was like a dream for you, there wasn't underlying stress, no pressure of being perfect, just having fun with your boyfriend. You were taking small steps, both of you wanting to make sure, that what was going on between you, lasted, but both of you were enjoying every moment together.

It’d only be six days though, before Christopher would be blowing your phone up with different lectures and threats. Of course, it’d also be whenever Seung Hyun would be out recording with the boys, and you weren’t about to bother him with this while he was working. So you sat in his bedroom, your back against the bed frame as you stared at your phone screen, watching as new texts came in every few seconds.

‘Y/n. If it’s true you left the country I swear’

‘You’re seriously in South Korea right now?’

‘Do you know how unprofessional it is to just take off like that? What if you had something scheduled?’

‘You’re ruining your own career being a selfish brat.’

‘And if you don’t ruin it, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing I do because you don’t deserve any of this.’

‘I knew I never should’ve wasted my time on some sorry warm body’

‘I swear I will come to Korea myself just to knock some sense into your stupid fucking head’

As more texts flooded in, you started to grow scared, the more you didn’t reply, the angrier that Chris got. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, he had never acted like this before, but it was making you terrified to return back to your country. You watched as your phone went off with calls from Christopher before a single text came through from your assistant

‘Christopher just fired everybody, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?’

You tried to hold back your tears, calling her quickly, you never wanted any of this to happen, you never thought it would ever come to this point “y/n? Honey? What’s going on?” Your assistant, Casey, asked softly, you could hear Christopher’s muffled shouts in the background “He found out I left the country, C-Cas, he’s like..for real threatening me, I don’t know if I should come back” you whimpered, trying to calm your nerves as you heard your friend huff “don’t let him scare you. He’s nothing but some small dick, wannabe pop star, short ass, dumb, narcissistic, piece of shit of a man” she listed off, smiling whenever she heard you giggle softly over the phone. “Where’s your man, huh? I’d think you’d be all over him before you had to come back home” she added on, trying her best to change the subject, you sighed a bit, trying your best to tune out the muffled threats of your manager being shouted in the background “he’s recording for a new song..he should be home in awhile” you whispered before flinching slightly whenever you heard the door open over the phone, and Christopher’s shouts become much louder “are you on the phone with her?!” He shouted before you heard Casey’s shouting loudly, telling him to fuck off before calling out that she’d call you back in a little bit.

Leaving you alone in the home, your phone was still blowing up, this time worse than before, the fact you were talking to Casey and not him just fueled his anger even more. “Aein! I’m home!” Seung Hyun called softly as he closed the front door behind him, trying to track you down somewhere in the home.

Whenever he finally managed to find you, his heart would break slightly “y/n?..what are you doing?..” he asked softly, watching as you tried your best to shove your clothes into your suitcase “I-i can’t stay here, C-Chris found out I left t-the country, and if I don’t show back up there by nine tonight their time, everybody is going to lose their jobs” you whispered, dropping your arms in defeat, you should’ve known this was going to happen. With your luck, you should’ve known this wouldn’t work, Christopher wouldn’t let it, not without him having every bit of control over it. Seung Hyun rushed over, grabbing your hands gently “Aein..my love” he replied, pulling you into a tight hug as you just leaned into his touch, not wanting to leave, but you never meant to cause any damage by coming here. "Do You want to leave?" He asked softly, holding you close as he swayed with you slightly, you just shook your head quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you sighed "No, I don't.." You stopped yourself from explaining further, he had enough to stress about, he didn't need to stress additionally about your stuff. Seung Hyun sighed, he wasn't sure what to say, until it finally dawned on him "Aren't you his biggest star? Why not just employ your own staff, and then sign on to a different company? With how big you are overseas, I'm sure it could work" He explained, slowly leading you to sit down on the bed with him, You just shrugged nervously, trying to hold back any new tears, this was really hard to deal with.

"What if nobody wants me?.." You whispered, looking at your shoes, trying your best not meet his gaze, knowing you'd immediately break down if you did. "My love, now that's just silly, I'm sure you could even find an agency here to sign with" He protested, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you close, you just stayed quiet, you wanted to tell Seung Hyun everything involved in the situation, but you didn't want him worried, or him feel like he was obligated to help you. "I-I don't know..- If I go back..-" You stopped yourself, growing frustrated at the fact you weren't finding the words you needed to, Seung Hyun just watching you intently, wanting to help you in any way that he could. "I'm scared to go home, alone" You whispered, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the way your hands shook as you slowly slid your phone to him "Chris is really, Really mad.." You added on, leaning into his hold, as he opened your phone, starting to read through your message. You could tell as his grip on you tightened, and his breathing became unstable, he was getting more towards the threatening messages. "What the fuck? 자신의 협박이 불법이라는 사실을 몰랐나요? 신고하셨나요? 그는 말 그대로 당신을 해치겠다고 협박하고 있어요, 내 사랑 (Didn't you know his threats were illegal? Did you report them? He's literally threatening to hurt you, my love)" He asked quickly, cupping your cheeks gently to pull your attention towards him "I-I don't know what to do" You whimpered, you had been signed under Christopher's company for years, you grew up with him through your late teen years, and early adult years, so the thought of leaving and going where new, also terrified you, just as much as the idea of staying did. "Y/n, You need to leave his management" He whispered, his tone still stern and demanding, trying to tell you that you really had no other choice, he wouldn't let you have another choice. Seung Hyun loved and cared about you way too much to let you deal with your manager any longer, he knew the moment he saw you fighting with him for the first time, that Chris was not a good guy in the slightest. "Where would I go? Where would I sign? Seung Hyun, I love you..but I'm stuck" You ranted, standing back up to start packing again, you needed to get back home before Chris takes things too far and tries to go after Seung Hyun, in retaliation. "My love! You could go anywhere!" He argued, huffing whenever he noticed you weren't going to back down, You had to do this, you had staff members with kids and families to take care of, that couldn't afford to lose their jobs.

Seung Hyun watched for a moment, before ultimately deciding, he was going with you. As he stood up and started packing his own clothes, neatly folding them and laying them flat in his suitcase. "W-What are you doing?" You asked, grabbing his hands gently, stopping him from his task "If you're this set on going back to deal with his stupid ass, then I'm going with you. I'm not going to allow you to do this alone" He explained, turning to face you, you just huffed, between your frustration with Chris, and your anxiety, you couldn't fathom why on earth, Seung Hyun would want to come deal with this bullshit. "Why? You have your own job, your own stressful bullshit here, so why would you want to add on someone else's bullshit?" You asked, dropping your hands to your sides, tilting your head, trying to understand him and his thought process. "Y/n...You're not just someone else, and I'm not adding it on. I love you, Aein, and your bullshit..is my bullshit" He explained, pulling you into a tight hug "Anything you have to go through, my love, I'll always be by your side, that way there's not anything scary, that you ever have to go through alone again" He explained, trying his best to word it properly, you just sighed, dropping your head onto his chest, trying not to cry again, this time by the pure sweetness of Seung Hyun. "Why are you so charming?" You groaned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, looking up to meet his gaze. Seung Hyun just offered you a sympathetic smile as he rubbed your arms gently, motioning to your suitcases laying on the bed "So..Are we going to America?" He asked softly, knowing if so, he'd definitely be scheduling a meeting with your manager.

Whenever you'd land back in L.A, you'd try and hold on to Seung Hyun's hand the entire process of going out to the car you had waiting outside. "Love?...Swear you're not going to start anything?" You whispered, you knew you'd have to have a conversation with Christopher, especially if you were pulling out of your contract with him, and you also knew Seung Hyun wasn't going to let you do it alone, especially with how Chris has been acting towards you. "I can't make promises, my love, I can promise I'll try to wait until you're not present" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you approached the car, Christopher standing outside, rolling his eyes at the image of you both walking out. Seung Hyun could feel his blood start to boil as he approached the car and your manager, his body felt tense, and he could feel his stomach start to do flips from how much anger ran through his body. "So nice of you to actually show up and do your fucking job" Christopher spat, watching as you silently got in the car, keeping your eyes trained on your boyfriend as he stared Chris down before he climbed in next to you.

The ride to your managers office was silent, the air in the car was filled with tension so thick, you could barely breathe. Your eyes were glued to the floorboard as your brain went over every possibility that could happen, once you arrived at the office space. "I don't see why we can't have the conversation now?" Seung Hyun spoke lowly, not taking his eyes off of Chris, as you took your hand in his, you took a deep breath. "This isn't a conversation that involves outsiders, it is a business meeting between a pop-star and her manager" Chris replied in a snappy tone, causing your head to shoot up quickly, giving him a glare, his comment being all you needed for that final boost of confidence to quit. "It's not a conversation at all, Christopher. I'm terminating our contract, I've spent my ten years with you, and I thank you for all you've done for me, but I don't want to be working for someone like you" You explained, trying to keep a professional tone, but it ended up just being laced in disgust, Chris scoffed, laughing loudly "Seriously? You get with a new guy and all of a sudden you're some badass now? Hey, Y/n, question, whenever he leaves you, like he will, what will you do, huh? You'll be nobody, with nothing" He spat, you squeezed Seung Hyun's hand tightly whenever you felt him tense, harshly, silently letting him know you could handle it. Seung Hyun couldn't help it, just like the first time he watched you fight with Christopher, he didn't like seeing someone disrespect you like that, especially with knowing how you felt about yourself.

"No. Christopher, you don't get to make me feel bad anymore, I might've played the part for half my life, but I am so fucking done. You are nobody, Christopher, understand that. You might've helped me get gigs, but that's all you did. You are nothing but the ugly fucking face behind my FORMER management team, I am the one who made myself, I am fucking everything behind my name!" You shouted as the car stopped, letting the three of you out in the parking lot, you couldn't hide your smirk as you spotted the paparazzi rushing over "Come on, let's go handle this inside, Y/n. Don't act like this" Chris growled, going to grab your wrist harshly, Seung Hyun quickly stepping between you two to stop him, instead grabbing Chris's shoulder/collarbone tightly "Put your hands on her, and You'll have a lot more than how she's acting to deal with" Your boyfriend growled back, shoving him back as he let go of his grip on your manager, not breaking eye contact as he stared Chris down, not ever backing down until you rested your hand on his chest, having him step away slightly "Thank you, love" You whispered before turning your attention back to Christopher "I should've fucking listened to everybody years ago, they all told me! Don't fucking sign her! She's got no talent, just a body! I thought I could make something out of that body! But nope! Nothing but a warm body" He seethed, you could feel yourself getting more pissed, but instead of blowing up, you just broke out into laughs "Really? Everybody told you that? Little 'can't pull a bitch' Christopher had so many people saying don't sign?" You laughed holding a hand over your chest "I'd say you're adorable, but the sight of you, physically makes me fucking sick" You spat, walking closer to him huffing "My lawyers will be in contact, in regard to anything else? Call Casey, or any other of MY staff" You added on before turning to walk towards the bus stop, you'd be damned if you took one of the cars driven by his drivers. "Oh! And Christopher?" You called sweetly before turning around "At least my warm body, has more talent in it than you'll ever have in a lifetime" You smiled, waving goodbye to him in a smartass manner before grabbing Seung Hyun's hand as you walked onto the bus.

The moment you sat down, you could feel yourself starting to have a panic attack, all of the adrenaline wearing off, making you realize how stupid it was to do that, and then leave him there to twist the story to paparazzi. "Hey, hey! That was amazing" He whispered, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him "Personally, I would've liked to kick his ass, but, You handled that perfectly, my love" He whispered, pulling you into a hug as you continued to panic, trying your best to shield your face from any other bus riders, or paparazzi trying to get a picture of you through the bus window. "I just ruined my life" You cried, holding onto his jacket tightly "You didn't ruin your life, my love, nothings ruined, but, we did leave all of our luggage in the trunk of that car" He chuckled, watching as you looked at him, trying to keep a straight face before giggling loudly "Oh my god, we totally did" You laughed, hugging him tightly before pulling away, trying to read the map ahead to figure out what stop, you needed to get off at. "Seung Hyun...now what do I do?" You asked quietly, your knee bouncing slightly as you glanced at your hands, where your fingers were inter-laced tightly together "What do you want to do, my love?" he whispered, pressing your knuckles to his lips gently, his question made you really think, what did you want to do?

"I..I think I want to make different music" You whispered after a moment, looking up to meet his eyes, smiling as bit as he looked at you with such love and admiration. "Yea? What kind?" he asked softly, standing up as you made it to your stop, Seung Hyun following close behind you. "I think I want to just..write what I feel, and my real feelings, not the feelings people tell me to have" You explained, walking towards your neighborhood as you swung your and Seung Hyun's hands slightly. "Well, whatever you decide to do, my love?..I'm here for you, every step of the way" He whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist whenever you finally made it to your home. "I appreciate you, I swear, I appreciate you more than anybody" You whispered, cupping his cheeks gently as you smiled "It's really not a problem, my love. I love you so much, and I'm not going to let any person put their hands on you, especially not in front of me" He whispered, pulling you closer by your hips as he smiled softly "He wouldn't of actually grabbed me, I wouldn't of let it get that far" You giggled, caressing his cheek gently, smiling as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead "I want to believe you...I really do, but, you are smaller than Ji" He joked, laughing as you shot him an offended look, giggling along with his laughs "Hey! I could kick anybody's ass" You smiled, standing up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek "Sure you can, my love, either way, I'll always be by your side for every fight" He whispered, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours, you smiled against his lips as you moved your lips against his. You felt so powerful and enthralled with Seung Hyun, he was perfect, in every possible way, and him defending, and protecting you? Just made you even more in love with the man. As you slowly pulled away from Seung Hyun's lips, you never noticed the single hidden paparazzi person, hiding across the street, getting your entire interaction with Seung Hyun.

As you and Seung Hyun winded down from the very eventful day, you laid in your bed together, resting your head on Seung Hyun's chest as his arm was wrapped around you. As you laid there, you huffed loudly, your phone blowing up just like before, this time with a mixture of texts, calls, twitter notifications, instagram, news, all of it. Leaning over Seung Hyun's side, you grabbed your phone giggling as you felt him press his lips to your neck quickly before you laid back down on the bed, feeling your heart drop as you read the first notification on your screen.

'GLOBAL POP-STAR Y/N L/N SEEN SHARING INTIMATE KISS WITH CHOI SEUNG HYUN ALSO KNOWN AS T.O.P FROM K-POP'S BOY GROUP BIGBANG, OUTSIDE OF HER L.A. HOME'

Shit.

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First story after the face reveal! I'm so excited!! What do you think lovelies? A lil angsty, but I promise next part with be so much more fluffier!! <333

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Taglist!!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

@skzdreamz

@enhasrii

@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

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@sassyyoyo

@i-might-be-vanny

@cheese10001

@live-laugh-lovef1

@c1delight

[whalesforhands]

What would satosugu do if Mc had another lover?

HAHAAH I WENT IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT DIRECTION

“I think I fell in love recently…” Your eyes are glazing over with infatuated lovesickness. Your chocolate bread long abandoned as your hand rests upon your heated cheek, the lovely thoughts of your object of affection flashing through your mind’s eye. Shoko pokes a finger into your free cheek, watching as the flesh squishes beneath her skin before leaning forth to steal a bite of your lunch.

“What?!” Gojo’s strawberry cheesecake had all of its initial interest stolen，the metal spork he had stolen from Geto’s home-made lunch bouncing off of his lap and clattering onto the classroom floor, just as Geto’s chopsticks pause midair, face starting to turn pale as he pounds at his chest to prevent the cherry tomato he had swallowed from going down the wrong pipe.

The look in your eyes is still far away, dazed and enraptured with the thoughts of your mystery crush, hearts basically emanating from you as the afternoon sunlight casts a gentle glow on you through the translucent curtains.

(Since when was there a breeze flowing through your hair, indoors…?)

It’s Suguru that barely manages to avoid choking through a mouthful of his fruit, a napkin to his mouth as he spits it out, hastily downing some water.

“When—“ He coughs to better swallow the drink that refuses to go down. “Did you both meet?” Satoru’s still struck with too much surprise and flabbergasted by your sudden news, his lower jaw hanging open as his sunglasses fall onto the turn of his nose.

Just when did they ever have another competitor?!

(Suguru closes his mouth for him.)

“We met when Shoko and I were out-“ Your fingers twiddle with the newly bought scrunchie inbetween your hands, the soft material making you reminisce the feel of fluttery feelings your mystery person gave you. “He was so soft and cuddly, with just a bit of attitude…”

Your eyes close in smitten devotion, your gait growing shy as your head swirls with images of him.

“Black and white hair…” A delinquent?! With dyed hair?! When was that ever your type? (“Seriously?! That’s what you’re into?!”)

“The sharpest brown eyes…” (“Suguru has sharper eye— Ow!”)

“The cutest upturned nose, and the softest hands…”

(“I’m cuter! And my hands are way softer!”

He holds out his hands to the group, placing them atop the desks that were pushed together for lunchtime.

“Shoko! Suguru! Feel and tell her!”)

“Could this be… What others call love at first sight?” Your trance is broken once you’re grabbed by your shoulders, being vigorously shaken back and forth as Gojo gets all up in your face, leaning diagonally towards you. “No! No, it’s not!”

Shoko is absolutely losing it, barely holding herself together whilst sneakily trying to muffle her snickers as she takes another bite of your chocolate cream bun that was now in her possession.

(You don’t mind. You still have the vanilla bean, azuki bean and dark chocolate flavours to try out.)

Suguru’s still baffled, holding his head in his hand as a finger taps anxiously on his forehead. A surge of fear going through him.

(Why? Why another person? What did he have that he or Gojo didn’t? They can’t possibly be lacking, can they? Shoko may call both of them trash but…)

“Do you mind if we meet them?” It comes out even before he could process his words, even Suguru himself is taken aback by how calm, how normal his voice had sounded, how it lacked all the anxiety and anger that coursed through him.

——

You agreed. Of course you agreed.

“I don’t think he will mind at all!” The smile on your face is absolutely radiant. “Ah, he’s just a little shy though.” You grow timid once again as your face alights with another grin. Does the mere thought of him make you blush and falter like a lovesick schoolgirl…?

“But I’m sure you will all love him!”

No. Suguru decides that he absolutely will not. Not when you’re practically skipping in excitement down the path, Satoru’s arm around you as he openly glares at each and every teenaged individual that seemed to match your description.

(“Hah?! What are you looking at?!” Gojo’s glaring at another man that dared to breathe in your general direction.

“(name), I don’t like how that guy looks.” He’s whispering into your ear as you giggle, telling him to knock it off with a light tap to his nose, his whining barely ceasing.

“I bet your friend isn’t much to look at anyway!” You tilt your head to the side, a contemplative hand under your chin as you stare at Satoru head-on, from his personality to his looks. “Hmm… I think you’re both around the same level.”

“Me?! Compared to him?!”)

Suguru’s following closely behind you both with Shoko at his side, the girl lackadaisically sipping at the coffee you had gotten for her as she maintains her silence, enjoying the sights and sounds of the busy street.

As if she knows something they don’t.

“You look awfully calm. Is there something you want to say?” Suguru’s look towards her is placid, a look of feint serenity, smile stretched just a little too wide, eyes clenched a little too tight.

He’s nervous. And Shoko can tell.

From the way he’s been blowing that strand of his bangs out of his face, taking just a few minutes more to brush out his hair before heading out today, walking so close to you earlier that distance was practically a myth between the both of you.

He’s jealous. And wasn’t trying to make it as obvious as Gojo did.

(Can you even tell either of them are jealous?)

You blink when Geto assists you in clasping your necklace, his warm hands pressing against your nape as you melt into his gentle touch. How nice of him. You were just about to ask him for help. “Don’t let others do this for you, okay?”

You recoil slightly when a napkin is slapped onto your face to wipe the cream off, Gojo’s hand enthusiastically helping you as you try your best to stay still, his free hand holding your cheek to prevent you from moving too much. “Only we can get this close to you, alright?!”

Okay…? You’ll always listen to them is what you have decided.

(Unless Shoko has an input too. You’ll let hers override theirs.)

She twirls a strand of her hair as she finishes the final sip of her coffee, taking a chance and trying out Gojo’s half-drunk bubble tea.

She makes a face before she replies, the sugar on her tongue making her grimace. “Not much at all.”

Geto pins his gaze onto her, laughing lightly as his fists start to unclench. “I think I would know. I’m your friend after all.”

The girl stirs the straw within the cup, smiling. She’s satisfied with that reply as she pulls out her phone, hiding away the lock screen from his view. “Then you have nothing to worry about. I promise on our friendship.”

Geto Suguru is at ease. (Only just the slightest.)

(“(nameeeeeeeee)!!! That guy looked at you suspiciously! Is that him?!”

“He doesn’t even have black OR white hair…”

“I don’t like how he stared at you! Suguru! Stand at the other side! Shoko, you’re on front duty!”)

——

“We’re here!” You’re standing before an alleyway, shaded just enough to protect the inner area from the sun.

“Ruruko! Are you here?” You jog deeper in as the trio quickly go after you, thoughts flying through a particular duos’ brains.

Ruruko? What kind of man that has you so enamored has that name? What kind of gentleman makes you come meet him in an alleyway? Why is Shoko so calm?!

(And why is she recording this?)

Satoru’s crossing his arms, puffing his chest out as he surveys the area, waiting for a group of rabid teenagers to jump out and attack as Suguru’s watching with careful intent, stance ready to take on a sudden fight before—

“Ruruko!” You’re squatting, lowering yourself down as you start cooing. Scratching inbetween the cat’s ears and under its chin as he meows, purrs into your hand.

“See? Isn’t he just the cutest?!” You’re practically squealing when the cat nuzzles back up to you, allowing you to pick it up and hold it, letting it’s furry front face the SSS trio as you bring his furry face next to yours, nuzzling your cheek into his and showing off his shiny black-white mottled coat and pretty brown eyes.

It only meows as it stares at them, licking his paws and using it to flick at his ears.

“A cat?!” Satoru’s gasping as he falls to his knees, dramatically holding his head in his hands. As Suguru plants his hand against a wall, his other covering his eyes.

“It was a cat all along?!”

masterlist

Notes:

Both Gojo and Geto have a new lock screen photo of you holding Ruruko now. Shoko already has one.

Ruruko. satoRU, suguRU, shoKO. RURUKO.

Shoko knew all along, if you couldn’t already tell.

Gojo buys bubble tea with 100% sugar. Less ice.

nvy’s aftertalk:

to tide my non-kofi readers over since i haven’t fed y’all in a while haha

[electrozeistyking]

Poor Little Star.

Summary: Beneath the Favor Tree, Loop has a moment to think about everything. (Takes place in the Longer Than Necessary AU.)

At first, watching your stupid little stardust bumbling around had been somewhat funny.

He had gotten himself trapped in a time loop, and you were put here to help him, of course, even though it wasn’t like you would’ve had much of a choice. It’s your job, as their helpful guide Loop; you’re supposed to help them. 

You gave them tips and tricks to help them get through it. You spoke with him about different things, answering his questions and occasionally interjecting to ask him some of your own. You grew used to talking a lot more and throwing theories around with him, even going so far as to test one of those theories against his will. 

It’d been weirdly cathartic, in a way. You hadn’t minded helping him, but you couldn’t deny that seeing him go through something worse than what you had made you feel better about the whole thing. You got to sit back and relax, knowing you didn’t have to be center stage.

But the loop count grew.

And more.

And more still.

Your stardust had blown up one loop, lashing out at his party and at yourself. He’d wanted nothing more than to kill that stupid so-called King with his own bare hands, simply because he’d been convinced it was the only way to end the loops — even though you’d known for a fact it wouldn’t. 

That was the only time you had spoken with their party. Your stardust had gone into The House alone, and you’d helped their party reach them, giving them the tools and the context they needed to do so, all thanks to some weird and cruel twist of fate... but your stardust had completely burnt out before then.

Next loop you had seen him, your stardust had looked so empty and lifeless. To this day (loop? whatever), you still find yourself wondering how he’d even managed to walk to the Favor Tree without collapsing.

And if that wasn’t enough, you still remember how they hadn’t responded when you’d tried to push their buttons and tease them. But it hadn’t worked, so you’d given up at one point; and now they’re still tired and hazy, like they barely know what’s happening anymore. You can still remember how the star in your chest sunk when he first started calling you “Loo.”

And yet you let him.

Because that was fine, wasn’t it? 

You called them “stardust,” so you’d reasoned you might as well let them have “Loo.” He’d blown up in one fiery burst of mania and anger and hate, then turned himself into a heaping pile of ash and hollowness and agony. You had the feeling he was forcing himself to go through everything again because he had no idea what else to do.

Therefore, it only made sense you let them have their silly little nickname for you, in exchange for further assistance in getting out of the loops. Even if doing so felt like someone was twisting a blinding dagger in your chest. 

Because they would have to break free, right? Maybe you’ll feel like you’re swallowing molten rocks when that moment finally comes, but you would have to be content with the fact you at least did your job, should they finally get out.

Not that you’re very good at that anymore.

You were meant to help him get out. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Despite knowing it was through words being twisted, you were meant to be their someone who could help free them. And yet you couldn’t even do that, could you? Now look at your stardust. They’re falling apart because you can’t help them.

You’ve been watching as more of himself slips through the cracks in his memory every loop. He grows even hazier and more forgetful the longer he’s trapped. Humans weren’t meant to have so many years worth of memories stuffed in their head, after all; older memories keep falling away to make room for new ones. 

He can’t remember what the earliest loops were like, or what his life was like before they ever started. They don’t remember that you were ever called Loop, their helpful guide to help them through the loops. You sometimes wonder if they remember who they are, or if they’ve forgotten what they had left.

But you. 

You’re just so special now, aren’t you? They can’t remember, but you can. Because you’re not human, is that right?

Oh, who are you kidding? Of course you’re not human anymore, just look at yourself! You’re some weird star-headed thing now, a blinding ethereal being who knows things they never should’ve been cursed to learn. You speak of wrong buttons and secret Craft signs and dialogue branches.

You can bend the rules, ever so slightly. 

You helped your stardust do the same.

So why are they still here, Loop? 

What have you been doing wrong? How could you have let them reach this point? Just how blinding stupid are you?

You hear footsteps and look up, torn from your own thoughts.

Ah. Speak of the devil. Here’s your stardust now.

[lovelybucky1]

Join Me (Darth Vader x Reader)

warnings: dark themes, gender neutral! reader, unburnt vader (still wears the suit), violence, weapons, mentions of death, corruption, manipulation, sexual tension, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

This is humiliating. A Jedi, a warrior of your status, should not be sprawled across the floor in front of your sworn enemy. The two stormtroopers that brought you to Darth Vader’s chamber stand above you, looking down at where you landed when they threw you. You’re not sure how Vader’s forces managed to capture you so quickly. You have a feeling your fate will be similar to those of the remaining Jedi that have attempted to face Lord Vader: a cruel and brutal death.

Nevertheless, you lay on your stomach, hands cuffed with force-blocking bonds behind your back, and your legs rest uselessly behind you. You strain your neck to keep your head up, not wanting to give your captors to see you in such a state of defeat.

The Dark Lord looms over you from this high-backed throne. The room is dark with a fully black interior, but somehow his suit stands out from the void that seemingly engulfs you.

“Leave us,” Vader commands the storm troopers, his modulated voice bone chilling in the otherwise silent room. The stormtroopers turn and walk out of the chamber, their boots clicking loudly on the smooth tile floor.

As soon as you heard the heavy doors shut, the reality of your situation set in. You’re alone without a weapon or the use of the force with the most brutal Sith lord in the galaxy. You were helpless, and the only thing you can do is pray Vader will be merciful and kill you quickly.

“Your thoughts are loud, Jedi,” he says, sitting motionless on his throne.

You stare back into the black voids of his helmet’s eyes. You know the mask must be to hide some hideous deformity, but even the slightest bit of expression in the dark lord’s face would bring you some comfort.

You refuse to speak to him, but it clearly doesn’t matter since he can hear your thoughts, despite you trying to keep your walls up.

“I can feel your fear.”

Your brows furrow as you continue to look up at him from your position on the ground. You don’t mean to make your fear so obvious, but you can’t help it. You’re at the mercy of a monster who has killed many of your fellow Jedi, wiped out planets, and has disrupted peace in the entire galaxy.

“But it is not just fear, is it, Jedi?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting your choice of words.

“Hatred,” he says plainly.

This time you stay silent. You don’t feel hatred. Are you angry with Darth Vader for ruining the lives of you and your friends? Yes. Are you angry at the empire for oppressing beings across the galaxy? Of course. Do you resent this war and wish you could live a regular life? Sure, everyone does. Do you wish the Jedi order wasn’t so restrictive? Occasionally. But none of what you feel is hate.

“You’re wrong,” you hiss.

“You don’t hate me?” Vader has the audacity to ask.

“Hate is not the Jedi way,” you respond.

Silently, Vader rises from his throne and descends the stairs. His black boots echo throughout the chamber as Vader approaches you. The feeling of dread grows even colder in your stomach, and you begin to shake as he nears.

Vader stops an arm’s length in front of you, and from your position, all you can see is the top of his heavy boots and the thick material of his pants. Outside of your vision, Vader reaches for you. He bends to bury his gloved hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you up from the ground. You yelp at the grip on your hair, and you scramble to get your knees underneath you to take some of the tension off of your scalp.

Now you kneel before Darth Vader, and he has just proved that it requires little effort to move you. You look up at him with newfound anger that stems from the humiliation of being manhandled. Your eyes are glassy with tears, not from emotion, but as an involuntary response from the pulling of your hair.

“Cowardice is not the Jedi way, either,” Vader says.

His hand is still tight in your hair, though there is much less pain. You shake your head, trying to get him to let go, but his hold is unwavering.

“I’m not a coward,” you hiss. You wish you could access the force; you would throw this sick bastard across the room and- no, that’s not the Jedi way.

“Yet you tremble before me.”

You narrow your eyes as you look at him, feeling intimidated by the lack of emotion but you keep your gaze steady.

“I don’t hate, Vader.”

The dark helmet tilts to the side, just barely. That is the only sign of emotion, of life, that he has given this whole time.

“No?” he asks. “Even after everyone you hold dear perished at the hands of my army? Can your heart remain pure after suffering so much loss? Pain leads to anger, and anger leads to hate. I feel more pain in you than any of your fellow soldiers combined.”

You wish desperately that you were able to grasp the force to block Vader from your mind, but without it, every aspect of your mind is exposed to him.

“There’s no part of you that wants revenge? To kill me after you heard the symphony of your fellow younglings screaming? To destroy the empire for all of the pain it’s brought you?”

Fresh tears now stream down your face, this time from the painful memories Vader is forcing you to relive. You want to break free from these cuffs, you want to fight back, but you’re trapped. You do the only thing you can think to do to show your defiance, even as you weep on your knees. You tilt your chin up as much as you can and spit, landing it on the cheek of Vader’s helmet.

It feels as if time froze as soon as the wad of spit made contact. Vader stood completely still, not even breathing for unnaturally long, as you were forced to stay just as still as he was.

Slowly, Vader reaches up with his free hand and grasps the underside of his helmet. Your spit has run down the front of the mask and his gloves glisten as he pushes up the helmet. Vader slowly reveals the face underneath, and to your surprise, he is not hideous. In fact, he’s handsome.

Behind the emotionless helmet, Vader is a young man with chestnut hair, smooth skin save for a scar over his eye, and piercing bronze eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at the Sith lord, suddenly feeling conflicting emotions as the face of evil was just humanized.

Vader drops his helmet on the tile floor next to you, and the loud bang echoes through the chamber, making you flinch.

“You’re surprised,” Vader says, now in a non-altered voice. His voice is smooth, completely unlike his deep, robotic voice you knew.

“This is not what I was expecting,” you say, voice sounding weak to your own ears.

“My appearance?” he asks.

“Your mercy.”

Vader raises his eyebrows. “You will not get mercy from me.”

“You haven’t killed me yet,” you respond.

You’re not sure why you’re speaking to him this way. He is the same man who killed millions, some of those your brothers in arms, and many more innocent lives. He is the same ruthless, evil monster as he was with the mask on, yet he seems much less intimidating like this.

“I have no use for a Jedi corpse. I want you alive.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him, tears slowly stopping.

“Alive for what?”

“You have great power, little one,” he says, gaze intense.

Vader releases his grip on your hair, but remains close. The features of his suit feel out of place without the helmet. The control panel lead you to believe he was more machine than man, but from what you can see, Vader is just as human as you are.

“I was like you once,” Vader says, speaking again after your lack of response.

“We are nothing alike,” you bite.

“Ambitious, emotional, powerful… All things the Jedi order attempts to train out of their young, but a certain few, like you and I, knew better. You didn’t let them crush your spirit and turn you into a docile, supposed peacekeeper like the rest of them.”

Vader started off calm, but as he continued denouncing the Jedi teachings, his tone became more bitter and resentful.

“I have no complaints about my teachings,” you say, lifting your chin in defiance.

“You never had thoughts that your master told you were inappropriate? Things that felt perfectly natural, but somehow were wrong?” This time, Vader’s question is not rhetorical.

“I mean… I guess.”

“And weren’t you just a little bit angry that your feelings were dismissed so quickly without even an ounce of explanation as to why?”

“Because emotions and attachments aren’t the Jedi way.”

“But you were a child. No child can put aside their emotions for some ‘greater good’ that they have never seen nor could begin to understand.”

Vader pauses his sermon to crouch down, now meeting you at your eye level. His gaze is heavy, and you don’t want to show weakness by looking away, but you find it difficult to hold his eyes.

“I lived a life of pain, just as you have. I was born a slave, and only freed to be taken in by the Jedi, where my bonds were even tighter. I led thousands of men to their death in an unwinnable war, my mother was murdered by savage creatures, and my only love died as a result of the Jedi’s foolish restrictions.”

You swallow the thick lump in your throat so you can attempt to speak. Vader being vulnerable with you like this makes you feel uncomfortable, like you need to jump up and run as far as possible. He is a monster, not a grieving man. He’s not like you.

“You’re tired of hurting, aren’t you?” he asks.

You don’t want to respond, you don’t want to give him what he desires, but you can’t help yourself. The pain is suffocating and you desperately wish to escape it.

“Yes,” you confess breathily.

Vader looks at you for a moment. He doesn’t smile thankfully, because you would find that even more unnerving. No, he looks at you with pity like you’re a hurt animal.

“I can make your pain go away.” You perk up at that. You know he must be lying, the Sith are known for their silver tongues that tell you exactly what you want to hear, but the idea of a life free from suffering intrigues you. “I can help you access great power that will rid you of anguish.”

Vader shifts so he is kneeling in front of you, mirroring your position save for the cuffs holding your hands. He places his gloved hands on your shoulders and holds them tightly. You lean into the strong, warm touch, feeling conflicted as you regard his offer.

“I was like you once, little one. Broken, scared, forced into weakness by the Jedi. But then I was shown a new path; one of great power and purpose. Now I hurt no more.”

This all feels too good to be true. You want to believe what Vader says is true, that he can take away your pain and make you as powerful as you have always wanted to be, but your master’s voice rings in the back of your mind. Don’t give into temptation. The Sith lie, manipulate, and go to great lengths to corrupt the light. Evil is stronger than good, but great power leads you down a path of destruction.

“I will not hear these lies any longer, Vader,” you say, finally regaining your compassion.

Vader blinks for a moment, seemingly surprised at your change of tone.

“I tell nothing but the truth. I can save you.”

“I am loyal to the Jedi order.”

Vader sighs, jaw tensing, and he rises to his feet, again looming over you.

“I was being merciful as you requested, and gave you some semblance of a choice, but you will join me.”

“I would rather die than join you!” you yell.

Vader’s chin tilts just slightly. He uses the force to bring the remote that controls your cuffs to him, then unlocks them. You look up at him, confused and hesitant when your bonds fall away.

“You would die for your precious order?” he asks.

“Without question,” you say firmly as you rise to your feet, kicking the cuffs aside.

Vader reaches down to his hip and pushes his cape back, revealing two lightsabers. One is yours, and the other must be his. He tosses your lightsaber to you and you catch it with ease, immediately activating the blade and holding it between you and the Sith lord.

He activates his own lightsaber, the red blade illuminating his face and mixing with the blue of yours, casting a mix of purple light through the dark room.

“What are you waiting for, Jedi?” he asks.

Without further hesitations, you run towards Vader and swing your lightsaber at his torso, but he blocks it with ease. You take a few more swings, each from different angles, but they all are deflected. Surprisingly, Vader does not take any offensive maneuvers and only blocks each of your attacks. You move forward and slowly back Vader against the wall, almost cornering him, and you find yourself growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of engagement in the battle.

“Fight back, you coward!” you yell as you being your saber slashing down.

“Is that truly what you want?” Vader asks, pushing against your lightsaber with his.

“Unlike you,” you grunt, “I don’t take pleasure in an opponent who does not attempt to fight.”

There is a ghost of a smirk on Vader’s lips as he pushes you off of him with his saber. You stumble back, but quickly regain your footing and advance on him again. This time, however, Vader attacks. A whirlwind of red light swings around your head, and you instinctively block his attempted jab.

Vader’s fighting style is fast, acrobatic, and unlike anything you’ve faced in training or battle. His slices come quick, and combined with the distractions of his jumps and spins, it makes it difficult to battle him.

You swing your saber at his neck, but he ducks his head just in time to dodge getting his head cut off. While Vader is low to the ground, he sweeps his saber at your ankles, but you managed to jump, kicking him in the shoulder in the process.

He stumbles back and fails to catch himself. He sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of him as you run towards him. He is surprisingly skilled at fight from the ground, but he doesn’t expect a kick to the hand instead of a stab with your saber. His lightsaber falls from his hand and clatters across the floor. Before he could get to it, you pick it up.

Now with two sabers and a defenseless Vader, you have the upper hand. He moves to stand, but you trap his head between crossed blades while he’s on his knees. You pause, staring down at the Sith lord as your chest heaves with exertion. Vader does not look afraid, nor angry. He looks pleased.

“You want to kill me,” Vader speaks, showing no signs of the battle that just occurred.

“I sure would like to,” you say between panting breaths.

“Then do it.” You’re shocked. You have the most feared man in the galaxy on his knees in a compromising position, and he’s telling you to kill him. “Kill me, Jedi. I feel your anger, your pain, your hatred. Succumb to your desires; kill me and free the galaxy.”

Your hand twitch. You want to kill Vader, but you cannot bring yourself to do it. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed by the morality that was ingrained into you as a child.

“Kill me!” Vader shouts.

You don’t notice that you’re crying until hot tears drip down amd absorb into the front of your robe. You hate that you’re showing such weakness in front of Vader, but you can’t help yourself.

“You’re weak,” Vader says as he rises to his feet, unfazed by the weapons at his neck. “You’re a coward. A pathetic excuse for a soldier.”

Vader wrenches both sabers out of your hands and throws yours across the room. He stalks towards you, lightsaber at his side while he insults you. You walk backwards as he comes closer, not wanting to let him near to kill you.

“You didn’t even have the strength to do what you knew needed to be done. You could have saved the galaxy, but you were too scared to take a life,” Vader seeths.

You take another step back, but instead of your foot landing on the tile, you trip on Vader’s discarded helmet, rolling your ankle and falling to the floor. You cry out in pain and attempt to get up, but you cannot find the strength as Vader steps closer.

His boot kicks his helmet out of the way with a loud bang what makes you whimper in fear. Your palms scrabble against the floor to slide back, making you look even more pathetic than you surely already do. To your horror, directly behind you is the chamber wall. You have no where to go, no weapon, barely any strength, and Vader has the high ground.

“Look at you, helpless little Jedi,” Vader muses. “Why don’t you call on the force to help you? Or is it not strong enough to beat me?”

Your blood feels ice cold in your veins as Vader stares down at you. You know you should attempt to fight, to die honorary, but you don’t want to suffer.

“Just kill me,” you choke out.

“I told you, I have no use for your corpse. You will join me.”

“I won’t,” you say, voice weak.

With an aggravated grunt, Vader throws his lightsaber across the room, then grips the collar of your robe with both hands to haul you to your feet. He presses your back against the wall and you flinch, preparing for him to hit you. Instead, he places both palms on either side of your head. For a moment, nothing happens. You are just about to aks him what he’s doing to you when you’re hit with a flood of euphoria.

A hot, almost burning sensation fills your body and warms the ice in your veins. Your limbs go limp and you would have collapsed to the floor if Vader wasn’t holding you. A small moan leaves your lips as you feel a sense of newfound strength in your body, something that you have never felt in all of your years training with the force.

“What-” you trail off, finding it difficult to construct a sentence in this state.

“Do you feel the power, little one?” Vader says, voice low since he is so close.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“All of this could be yours. You could feel this all the time. You will never hurt again.”

You want it. This pleasure, this fullness, this contentment you haven’t felt since you were young. In this moment, all reason escapes you as you bask in the warms that Vader is providing.

Then, in a flash, everything is cold once again. Vader lets go of you and you side down the wall in a crumple. You whimper as you try to move, but you’re weak and tired once again.

“Please,” you croak, looking up at Vader.

“That’s the power of the dark side. Too bad you’re too devoted to your code to reach your full potential,” Vader says before turning on his toe, cape swishing through the air as he walks away from you.

You can’t let him leave. You had a taste of what you’ve always wanted and you can’t deny it any longer. You want to be powerful, free, and maybe for the first time in a long time, happy.

“Wait!” Vader pauses mid-step but does not turn to face you. “I… I want it.”

Anxiety builds inside you as Vader remains motionless. Just as you’re about to plead with him, he turns around.

“What do you want?”

“Power,” you whisper like it’s a shameful secret.

Vader begins to walk towards you, the same stalking action, yet you feel less scared this time.

“Will you abandon your affilation with the Jedi?” he asks.

You hesitate to answer. You know it’s wrong, you took a vow, but you had spent your life doing selfless acts. Maybe it’s time to be selfish for once.

“Yes.”

Vader grins. It’s not a kind smile, far from it. It’s sharp, predatory, and makes your skin crawl.

“You shall be my apprentice,” Vader says, extending a hand to help you from the ground. When you reach your feet, Vader holds you close by your waist. It’s almost intimate, the distance between your faces, but you feel as if it’s more of a display of dominance than anything. “I will train you to use the dark side, and I’ll help you break all of those habits the Jedi ingrained in you.”

“I want to feel it again,” you confess.

“And you will, little one, in due time. I can only give you so much; it is your duty to harness it yourself.”

You sigh and nod your head. “I understand… master.”

It feels foreign in your mouth, to call someone else, a Sith lord, master, but the word makes Vader grin again.

“The dark side will give you great strength. It may be frightening at first, to unlock your full potential, but I guarantee you will become just as powerful as I. Together, we will rule the galaxy.”

Your heart skips at that. Thinking that the entire galaxy would be yours to do what you please with, the power that would come with that. It was every shameful dream come true.

“I vow to follow you, Master Vader. I want to learn to be as powerful as you.”

Vader’s grip on your waist tightens and he tugs you just a bit closer. Your chest is pressed against the hard, cold metal of the panel on his chest, and you feel so small in his embrace.

“Why don’t we start with our first lesson,” Vader suggests.

“What is it?” you ask curiously, eager to get even a taste of that heat once again.

“I want you to learn to indulge in all of those desires you have spent your life denying,” he says, voice low and gravely. You furrow your brows, confused. “I sense your lust, little one. I do not think it shameful; Sith must access their passion.”

You nod in understanding, but remain still, uncertain what to do.

“Allow me to show you,” Vader says.

His hands press your body against his and he leans his head down. His eyes are closed and his lips move to cover yours. You whimper in surprise, but you allow yourself to stay pliant. He kisses you, gently at first, but it quickly turns heated. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you part them to allow him access. He devours you, kissing you like he’s claiming you as his own and in a way, he is.

You two finally part after what feels like an eternity. You’re breathless, but Vader seams unfazed, except for his eyes, which are more black than amber now. His lips shine with spit, and you’re certain yours look the same.

“I sense great potential in you, my apprentice,” Vader says with a sharp grin.

In the back of your mind, you’re ashamed that you succumbed to the dark, allowed yourself to be corrupted. But at the same time, Lord Vader can show you things you weren’t even permitted to dream of with the Jedi.

“Thank you, Master. I will not disappoint you.”

And with that, your fate was sealed. A former Jedi turned apprentice to the face of evil in the galaxy.

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[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tommy doesn’t preen anymore. And fair enough, really. If Techno got brainwashed (or whatever it was) by his piglin instincts like that, he wouldn’t want to either. As the days crawled past they looked worse and worse, dull and bedraggled. At least Techno had managed to convince Tommy to drink enough health potions to scab over the open wounds, mostly under the threat of potential infection. It helps Techno at least to not see where the lines of the net cut into him. 

Tommy looks like hell. Acts like it, too, this writhing mess of ugly emotions waiting to burst out of him. But the ragged feathers are especially noticeable, growing dull and disheveled the longer he refuses to maintain them. Phil is getting worried. Says properly aligned feathers are crucial for insulation and Tommy is going to end up catching something. And like, being around Tommy is a lot on a good day. Tommy with a cold? Sheesh. Someone's going to have to do something to prevent that, and it looks like it's up to Techno.

“I can’t stop feeling his hands,” Tommy chokes when Techno tries to offer to help groom him. “The ways his fingers stroked through my feathers. I just want to stop feeling it. Or worse, maybe I don’t.”

Techno shifts from hoof to hoof to stop himself from putting it in his mouth. “Would it be better if you did it yourself, then?” 

“...I think I might rip out more feathers if I try.” 

Techno winces, unable to get the image of Tommy clutching bloody fistfuls of his own feathers out of his head. “Maybe if we make it as different as possible it’ll help? Like, I don’t coo, or chirp, or squawk for one.” That had really been the reason they’d decided Techno should offer, since suppressing his coos would be hell for Philza and he didn’t want to shove Tommy deeper into a trance. “And I have hooves instead of fingers, so the texture would be different, right? We could chat the whole time, or you can occupy doing something else. Do it in tiny sections maybe, and stop whenever it’s too much. Just, I don’t want you getting sick, alright? It’s extra dangerous in the arctic.” Though hesitant, Tommy eventually relents. On one condition, of course.

Tommy downs the sleeping potion in one go. Before long, he droops, careful to spread out his wings before he succumbs to slumber. Not that Techno prefers to do it while Tommy sleeps since he won’t know if he accidentally hurts him, but it is the only way Tommy could stomach it. Better than nothing, he supposes. 

Techno pulls out a bottle of some of Phil’s fancy feather oils, sebum or whatever it is. This isn’t his first rodeo, of course, since Phil occasionally asks him to help with a tricky spot since it’s plain easier to have someone else help with grooming. He’s always happy to help out a friend, and Philza really enjoys it. As for Techno…uh. Okay so like he gets social behavior like preen is super big for building bonds etc etc but it doesn’t really do much for him. Which is really awkward given the whole crisis Tommy and Philza are having about it at the moment, since from his perspective he’s been asked to help brush Tommy’s teeth. Like yah he’ll help but? It’s not, like? A big deal?? While everyone around him is treating it like a blessing or a curse. Suuuper awkward. 

He works quickly, quietly, and carefully, straightening out ruffled feathers and smoothing over damage, massaging in oil to keep them soft and waterproof. It is a little satisfying to watch his progress, he has to admit, like that one time Steve had rolled in mud and he’d given the bear a grueling spa day. But the anger of his ruined flower bed doesn’t quite match the fury bubbling in his chest as he tries to smooth out the primaries Tommy’s abuser clipped. It’s all he can see in Tommy’s wings, the ghostly echo of the man who hurt him so deeply. The sheered off flight feathers, ripped out chunks of coverts, little rips from where the net dug in. Maybe he can understand why Tommy refused to love his wings if everything about them screamed his abuser. 

Techno only pauses once when a soft, sleepy coo purrs from Tommy’s throat. And suddenly he gets it. It sounds like pure bliss in a bottle, so sweet and effervescent. It’s echoed by a deep, content rumble, and it takes a second for Techno to realize that’s him making that noise. Self-conscious, he puts a hand over his mouth. He’d…kinda forgotten he can purr. And in context, it’s not good, especially since Tommy’s coos rush out in response. 

Techno weighs what Tommy’s waking reaction may be against his health needs. Then, he pokes Tommy’s cheek. As there is no response, Techno elects to speed run wing hygiene and hope he’s not stepping in trauma somehow. But the purrs reverberating in his chest ease the worried tension knotting his muscles, spurred on by Tommy’s infrequent sleepy coos. It’s almost relaxing, the smooth repetitive motions working through russet wings. 

He carefully scoops up the chick when he’s done, tucking Tommy in his burrow. It’s a bit of a fight to avoid piling him under blankets, but Techno just spent all that work and is not about to mess up the feathers again. He sweeps up the discarded ones, then realizes he has no idea what to do with them since he knows they have weird cultural connotations for avians. Electing to put them in a pile at the bedside, Techno comes to the unfortunate realization that his prime reading spot is occupied. Refusing to let Tommy get in the way of his literature, he crawls into bed as well. Somehow the giant piglin ends up scrunched sitting in the corner while the tiny avian sprawls and takes up more space than conceivable. Even more shockingly, Techno doesn’t mind that much. 

Eventually Tommy yawns and stretches. Techno’s breath hitches in his throat as he sleepily mumbles his abuser’s name. 

“Uh. Nah. It’s Techno. That guy is like, super duper dead.” 

Tommy hums a confused note, then flumps on the mattress. “Good,” he mumbles. Techno releases the breath he’d been holding. “Ha’ a weirddreamm…”

“Nightmare?” he asks cautiously. 

Tommy’s wings flare out, trembling with the stretch, then tuck to his back. “Not really. Was alrigh’ I guess.” He pulls the blankets around without covering himself in an echo of a nest. A little bit of squirming, and his head presses warmly against the side of Techno’s leg. “Havn’t had a good dre- sleep ina while. Was…nice. Thanks, Techno.” He hums again as Techno awkwardly pats his head. Not a coo. This was alright, then.

“Any time, kid.” 

Next >

[whxtedreams]

Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floor

Blood Runs Thicker than Water - Joel & F!Reader (Platonic DBF!)

Summary: After Tommy deals with the Raiders that attempted to kill him in his own home, Tommy goes into town in search for the rest of the group.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Tommy takes out his anger on a Raider, injury & blood, Joel being described as god damn heavy, Tommy saves Joel but Joel just gets angry at him, descriptions of dead bodies

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on AO3

Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floor

In a brutal and determined grip, Tommy grips the last man’s throat, his fingers digging deep into his windpipe as blood slowly drips down the walls, staining the scattered coloring books on the ground. Anger grows, his breaths labored as he stares intently into the man’s eyes.

Despite the strain on his neck, the man in Tommy’s hands manages a perverse smile, a twisted gleam in his eyes. “You can’t save them,” He gasps, the words heavy with a sinister threat. “You better pray that little girl dies.” A cold shiver runs down Tommy’s spine, the implication in his words sending a surge of worry and anger coursing through him.

Tommy’s fury boils over and he slams the man against the wall, his face mere inches from his own. “Just for saying that, I ain’t gonna make this quick.” He growls, spit spraying on his bloodied face.

Tommy indeed, doesn’t make it quick. He makes that man sing, a song he has come to know so well as he drains blood ever so slowly from those who deserve it. And this man deserves it, purely for hinting that someone would harm the child. He would have spent more time tormenting the man if he didn’t have places to be. So, when he becomes bored of the man’s song, he simply drags his knife into his neck and discards him to the floor just as he has done with his friends.

He sets off from his home shortly after packing the necessities; smoke bombs, nail bombs, molotov cocktails, his beloved rifle and anything that he knows will cause significant damage. If they think he won’t make them suffer for threatening his family, they’re very wrong. 

He arrives in the town just as the storm that had been brewing all day finally unleashes its fury, showering the town in an onslaught of snow and harsh winds. He pushes forward, squinting his eyes as the biting snowflakes sting his face.

He spots the infected lying motionless in front of the hardware store before he heads inside, sheltered from the weather. The floor is littered with more infected and he calls out for Joel, Myles and even the kid, hoping to hear a familiar voice over the howling winds outside. Instead, only the mournful sound of the storm answers his calls.

A door to a back room hangs eerily open, the sounds of dripping liquid calling out for him to look and he listens obediently. He steps into the room, his gaze falling upon a man, bound and hunched over in a chair. His blood slowly oozes out of him, dripping into the crimson pool below him. There’s also a window deeper into the room, where the body of an infected hangs, halfway through crawling into the room before it was shot.

Tommy steps up to the body and lifts his head, feeling the warmth that still lingers on his skin, though already starting to stiffen. He tilts his head, pondering for a moment, deciding he can’t be that far behind Joel.

A frown creases Tommy’s forehead as he carefully observes the wounds on the man. The cuts lack the precision he’s familiar with from Joel’s work. They’re a mix of clean and jagged edges, deep and shallow cuts scattered across his body. He recognizes the signs of hesitation and doubt that would have caused most of these cuts, a feeling he knows neither Joel nor Myles possess.

Some of these cuts don’t belong to either Joel nor Myles and he refuses to believe the feeling deep in his gut that he knows who they belong to. Refuses to believe that neither Myles or Joel would allow her to do something like this.

With a sigh, he lets go of the man’s head, allowing it to fall lifeless back into place. He steps out of the room and follows the trail of bodies that lead out to the back parking lot and hopefully closer to his brother and friends.

The trail leads to a warehouse, the walls charred and crumbling. He steps over threshold and the remains of what used to be the door frame. He swears under his breath as his eyes fall on the carnage. The air is tinged with a lingering stench of burning flesh and he prays he’s not smelling the death of his brother, Myles or the kid. A small fire, now reduced to a dim flicker, smolders among the rubble as snow begins to settle in the building from the hole in the roof. With a sense of unease, Tommy’s gaze falls upon the crumbled pillar where bodies of infected are burning, succumbed beneath the flames, its light almost extinguished.

Tommy cautiously steps further into the warehouse, treading carefully over the bodies that litter the floor. His eyes scan the carnage, searching for any sign that they made it out unscathed. A silent prayer falls on his lips, that he doesn’t find any familiar features amongst those fallen.

Startled by the sound of crumbling debris, Tommy spins, aiming his gun in the direction of the imposing sound. The sight of an arm protruding from the rubble grabs his attention. His heart sinks and bile rises at the sight of the distinctive broken khaki green watch strapped around the wrist.

Joel’s watch.

“No, no, no,” Tommy’s mutters the single word over and over, desperation in his voice. He races towards his brother, hands feverishly removing each piece of rubble, not caring about the cuts that form on his skin. The heavy rubble falls away, revealing Joel’s limp body and Tommy grunts under his weight as he pulls him free.

Tommy gently holds his brother’s face in his trembling hands, his own heart pounding in his chest as he waits for Joel to open his eyes. With bated breath, Tommy presses his ear against Joel’s chest, listening for any sign of life. After a long, anxious moment, he finally detects a faint yet steady rhythm.

He drags his brother out, gritting his teeth and cursing under his breath for being so god damn heavy as he hauls his heavy body through the snow into the next building. The bitter winds and snow make the task difficult but the determination fuels him, despite the strain on his muscles. 

He carefully lowers his brother onto the cold concrete floor, wincing when he lands with a thud. The sight of his battered and bloodied form sends a wave of worry over him, his eyes assessing the deep cuts and scrapes that seeps blood, but it’s the cut on his head that worries him the most.

Tommy does his best to mend his wounds with the limited supplies he has, stitching, cleaning and patching him up. He may be limited, but he’s saved his brother with even fewer resources. He hopes it’s enough.

His brother is a stubborn asshole, so he knows it will be enough. It must be.

Certain that he’s done everything he can to stabilize his brother and that he won’t die on him, he reluctantly leaves his brother’s side and ventures back into the warehouse. He searches through rubble and digs through piles of infected in search of either Myles or the kid, his mind tormented of the possibility of finding them among the mass of dead bodies.

Tommy’s initial relief turns to concern once he’s torn through the entire building, their bodies nowhere in sight. Only once he’s certain that they are not among the dead, does he return to his brother’s side.

Tommy remains by Joel’s side and in the early hours of the night his eyes finally flicker open. He struggles to focus on Tommy, his eyes glazed over and only staying awake for a few seconds before he slumps back into unconsciousness.

After a grueling three days of Joel slipping in and out of consciousness and Tommy searching the town for any signs of where they could have gone, Joel finally awakens. He grunts, a sound Tommy never thought he would miss.

With a pained, low grunt, Joel weakly swats Tommy’s hands away as his body protests the movement. His weak, strained voice struggles to speak and Tommy hands Joel his water. “The kid,” He huffs.

Despite Joel’s protests and grunts of pain, Tommy gently helps him sit up, supporting his weight until he’s finally upright. Tommy’s silence regarding his question earns him a glare.

“Where is she,” He demands.

“Don’t know.” Tommy sighs, taking the water from him after he takes a sip. Tommy takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he tells his brother about his efforts to find both Myles and his kid while he was unconscious, how he tried to track them down but the storm outside had drowned their tracks. How he didn’t want to venture too far in case Joel’s condition took a turn for the worse and he needed tending to.

Joel attempts to stand and Tommy helps lift him to his feet as his jaw clenches tightly. He shakes his head, frustration etched on his face. “How long have I been out?” He grits, words thick with pain and determination.

“Joel-” Tommy sighs as he steadies Joel on his feet.

“How long.” He demands once more, interrupting Tommy’s sigh.

Tommy watches as Joel begins to gather his belongings as he clutches to his side. Tommy is well aware that Joel shouldn't be moving, let alone picking things up, but he’s also aware of how stubborn his brother is.

“Three days.”

Joel freezes as he processes the information and Tommy can see the rage that begins to build in his brother. “You left her alone out there for three days?” Joel seethes.

“She’s got Myles, she’s not alone. I’m sure they’re just waiting at the halfway cabin or made their way back home.” Tommy attempts to reason with him but Joel shakes his head, dismissing him as usual.

“Should have left me,” Joel mutters bitterly, passing by Tommy with a cold determination etched on his face.

The room falls quiet once more as he storms off, just as it had been as Tommy sat beside him at night, too afraid to sleep in case his brother died. His blood still stains the floor as Tommy sighs, turning to follow his brother.

Click here for Chapter 16

Notes

The way I want to hug Tommy. I hope y’all liked the Tommy POV! I plan on doing a lot more in future chapters!

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @sunandmuun , @rain-soaked-sun, @frootloops1213 , @samarav , @geralallfandoms , @joelmillersblog , @severussimp , @kitdjarin1 , @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @justanotherteen12 @lils-1979 @elisha-chloe , @faith-alons26

[holdmymallowsweet]

Inside

For Gaunting Salloween day 19: Parasite.

Words: 1,723, also on AO3

Warnings: body horror, nausea, suicidal thoughts, minor character death, implied cannibalism, implied underage sex (it’s really barely there but I didn’t want to upset anyone by not mentioning it)

...I just felt like writing something really disturbing and fucked up, please mind the warnings.

Ominis would always say, the next time he’d go to Gaunt Manor it would spell the end of him.

“Don’t go then,” Sebastian told him, as he always did. “Just stay with me.”

“It’s my father’s birthday dinner, they want the whole family there. You know I have no choice.”

“‘Course you do. Tell them they can shove it.” 

“I’m not seventeen yet, they can still pull me out of school.” Ominis leaned down, kissed Sebastian’s knuckles to make the anger melt away.

“Take me with you then.”

“I think that might make it worse.”

“Fine.” Sebastian took his hand away, stood up long enough to almost break Ominis heart a little, before he cradled him in his arms. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Of course I will.”

He’d told himself not to eat or drink anything, not to fall asleep or be caught alone in a room, to nod when he was spoken to and clap politely along with everyone else as the birthday toasts were made.

To leave as soon as propriety allowed.

But he couldn’t find a good enough reason to refuse the glass of wine that was pushed on him, that made him drowsy and not realise he’d started to eat until the fork was in his mouth for the third time. 

And he was betrayed by his eyes, the useless, stupid things, falling shut as he rested on a chaise in the parlour after dinner.

If only he’d taken Sebastian with him, after all. 

He came to with a jolt of panic, in silence, until he heard his brother's voice from behind him. 

“I suppose it’s good to know you still feel comfortable in your own home.”

Ominis didn’t. Not ever, as far as he could remember. And he’d long stopped thinking of this place as his home, home was where Sebastian was.

“Why not stay overnight, now that it’s come to this? You do so rarely grace us with your presence.”

“I’m expected back at school tonight,” Ominis said impassively, through the sudden lump in his throat.

“Well,” His brother answered, striding past him close enough to make him shudder in revulsion. “You better hurry along then.”

As Ominis left, he felt it moving for the first time. Just the tiniest little thing, sitting in his throat like the soreness after one screamed too much.

Ominis kept his promise. The problem was, he didn’t come back alone.

The tiny thing had started to grow, since then. 

Ominis could feel it, writhing inside him, stretching out underneath his spine, filling his throat.

He didn’t know what it was, or how it had gotten inside of him, only that it was there. That it felt wrong.

And that it wouldn’t leave on its own.

It became hard to force food down, there was no space, it rejected it. When he managed, he threw it up minutes, on good days hours later. 

And it became harder to hide. 

Sebastian was the first to notice something was wrong. Of course he was. 

“Ominis, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Don’t lie to me, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen you eat.”

“I do eat,” Ominis lied. 

“When?” 

“At mealtimes in the Great Hall, like everyone else.”

“No, you don’t. I see you, pushing food around on your plate until you find some excuse to leave. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s just stress.”

“...Stress,” Sebastian echoed.

“Over exams.”

“Exams are months away.”

“I know,” Ominis said desperately. It stretched again, made him feel sick. “I know. Perhaps I’m coming down with something. It’ll pass.”

So he managed to hide it for another few weeks.

Sometimes it seemed to sleep. Those were the better days, the ones where he could almost pretend nothing was wrong, where he could hold Sebastian’s hand and laugh at his jokes wholeheartedly, instead of pretending. 

As time went on, it seemed to need less and less sleep.

He knew, instinctively, that there was nothing to be done. The thing inside him grew day by day, chipping away at his essence, his mind, until there’d be nothing left of him.

One day it would seamlessly fill out his skin.

But he would hold on, as long as he could, would try his best to make another few good memories before it was over, and he wouldn’t let Sebastian find out. 

Never. 

He’d witnessed how Anne’s curse had almost destroyed him, how far Sebastian was willing to go to save someone he loved, and Ominis wouldn’t be the one to lead him down this path again.

Because of course he’d go just as far for Ominis, of course he loved him. That thought was what made him want to try, to live, but it was also what made him break down and sob uncontrollably behind the greenhouses, when it all became too much. Sob and heave, because the thing made it hard for him to draw deep breaths.

But the day came when Ominis wanted to stop trying.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong,” Sebastian said, taking Ominis’ hand. For comfort. Or perhaps to stop him from running away.

Ominis gave him a feeble smile. “What makes you think something would be wrong?”

Sebastian stepped closer, holding onto him as Ominis tried to flinch away.

“You’re not yourself lately. We hardly talk at all anymore, and when we do, you’re not all there. And you look horrible. Nothing but sunken cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, almost like Anne, before she-” 

Ominis’ heart broke then.

“You feel different. You even taste different.”

“I- taste ? You mean when we-”

“When we kiss. We haven’t done anything else for months now, and I didn’t want to say anything, because I thought maybe you just…” Sebastian sounded close to tears.

Ominis wanted to tell him. With every fibre of his being, he wanted to scream, wanted to beg Sebastian to pry open his jaw and rip it out of him.

He’d already opened his mouth when he felt it stretch, more than ever before. It wouldn’t let the words come out, it pressed up against his brain and made his ears ring.

“It’s nothing,” Ominis heard himself say, dully through the fog in his mind. “I’m stressed about exams, that’s all.” 

And just as quickly, it contracted again, shrinking to its normal size.

Hiding it from Sebastian was no longer his choice.

Sometimes he wished he could open his mouth and look in the mirror, to see if it would stare back at him.

The worst part of it was the pain.

Ominis was no stranger to pain. Even after years, the memories of the Cruciatus curse were etched into his mind, but this was something else entirely. 

It always came suddenly, usually at night, starting just slow enough to let him cast a silencing charm so his screams wouldn’t wake Sebastian. Then it would feel like he was being eaten from the inside out, like it was suddenly made of thousands of tiny spikes and thorns and teeth, ripping him apart.

Growing pains.

Somehow he knew, even if he were to go to the Hospital Wing, they wouldn’t find anything. It knew how to hide. They’d only hurt him, say it was his family’s insanity finally catching up to him, and he’d lose Sebastian.

But there were moments where the remnants of his common sense flickered to life, and he realised those thoughts weren’t his own, that he should try harder to tell someone- but then just as suddenly, the moment was over.

It was getting harder to hold on.

One night, he found himself at the top of the astronomy tower.

It would be quick. It would be over. He was well past the age where accidental magic would save him.

Sebastian would be devastated, but he’d lose Ominis anyway.

The thing inside him would die with him, though, and it wanted to live.

There was no holding on anymore. There were no more happy memories to be made. Most days now, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

But he remembered where it had started, and at last, he made the choice to go back.

And just like when it had started, he found his brother in the Manor’s parlour again.

“We need to talk.”

Ominis heard hissing. For the first time in his life, he didn’t understand it.

Silence.

“Did my little toy break your brain?” His brother asked, in mock concern.

“You did this to me.”

“I sure did.”

“Why?” Ominis asked desperately. “Does father know?”

“No, and I don’t think he’d be too happy if he found out, so I won’t tell him.”

His brother’s steps came closer, and Ominis fought the urge to step back in turn.

“And neither will you.”

Ominis wasn’t sure how he knew his brother had drawn his wand, or that his life was in danger.

The thing did. And it refused to let him die.

There was a scream, then silence. Then the overwhelming stench of blood. Ominis lowered his wand, shaking, drawing laboured breaths. He didn’t even know what spell he’d used.

He should have left then. Instead, he took a step forward, then another, until he heard and felt the squelching when he reached his brother’s corpse. Slowly, he bent down, and dragged his fingers through the puddle of blood.

Then Ominis smiled.

When he left, his stomach was full for the first time in weeks. The thing had finally found something it wanted to eat.

“Damn it, Ominis, where have you been?”

Ominis crossed the room, wordlessly. He didn’t need his wand, hadn’t needed it on the journey back. It knew where it wanted to go.

Sebastian felt nice when he hugged him. So warm. 

“I missed you,” Ominis said, and squeezed a bit tighter. “I want you.” Finally, he didn’t have to lie anymore.

Sebastian hesitantly hugged him back, careful, as if afraid he’d break something. “Merlin, I thought you’d gone off me.”

“Rubbish, as if I’d ever.”

Time stopped as they held each other, until Sebastian softly started to speak again. “So… how do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

“Really? That’s great,” Sebastian sighed.

It was. And as Ominis nuzzled his face in Sebastian’s neck, savouring the warmth and the way his own breath fanned out between them, he thought he’d never smelled anything so delicious.

[tinlune]

Obsessive Ex! Rin Part 2

Part 1

1k words

He was a fool. Showing up for your forgiveness with some food and a piece of cloth. It wasn’t enough. This wasn’t some small fight he could overcome with some well placed food and strategic begging. This was serious.

Rin walked all the way back home, his shame and anger propelling him to walk just that much faster, to jab the sidewalk a little with his steps to release some of the odd cocktail of things you make him feel that he has to sort out. He reaches the little apartment he calls his own. All your stuff is still here, things that made the place feel homey and lived in rather than just somewhere Rin went to after soccer. His heart aches in a way soccer has never quite managed to accomplish.

Tossing the sweater onto a nearby chair, he opens the refrigerator. Even if you didn’t take it, he wasn’t going to waste perfectly good food. But he’s only assaulted with more reminders of you. You’re everywhere. In his mind, his apartment filled with little things that only remind him of his loss. You won’t be lost for long. You'll be back together soon enough, he wouldn’t give up so easily, especially not on you.

The memories drown him, clawing at his mind to bring him into the center of a whirlwind that ultimately leads back to the memory of the break up.

“Rin, I need to talk to you. It's really important.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“I think we should break up.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He sat in silence for a moment, stunned as if he had just stuck his hand into a pool of electric eels.

“Why?” In that moment, he sounded small. Less the indomitable striker who struck down others with less skill on the pitch with no more regard than the dirt under his feet, more a boy who was wondering why his first love was leaving him.

“I’ve been thinking for a while. About this. About us. You have good things ahead for you and…I’m just not sure if I can see myself there with you and being happy in that position. You’re being offered contracts from professional clubs left and right, you’re so close to your dream. You’re going to be a superstar but I don’t think I’ll be by your side to see it.” This sounds practiced. How long have you been thinking about this?

His voice grows sharper, more demanding. “Why? What about me going pro? What is it that scares you so much that you’re willing to walk away from this? From me?” The pit of feelings propelled him through the first part to sound almost normal and he broke the facade when his voice cracked on the last question.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. You’ve always been very clear about soccer and your career being your number one priority and it's not fair to expect that everything would suddenly change when we started dating.”

This is about his career. Of course it is.

“You’re…you wouldn’t want for anything if you just continue this relationship. I could give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” What’s happening to him? What is he saying?

“All the things in the world can’t buy me back your time. I don’t care about how high your salary is Rin.  I want a future with you. I just..can’t see how it would work with balancing the demands of your career and the lifestyle that comes along with it and me.” You sound so resigned already. He knew you were stubborn but he hates it now that it's working against him. “Wouldn’t it be better to end it now, to nip it in the bud instead of doing it later?” Your voice cracks a bit with emotion at the last sentence, clearly trying to keep it together but some emotion slipped out. Maybe he could play on that.

“It's been done before, what makes you think we can’t? We can make it work, I know we can. Just put some faith into this relationship (First Name).”

“Rin I can’t be with someone that prioritizes a sport over his relationship. You’ve been so upfront about it and I guess I only have my own pride to blame for thinking I could handle it” Stop apologizing. You didn’t waste any of his time and he needs a way to make you see reason.

“I..I can retire early. I’ll find a way, I promise just give me a chance to try.” He says it with such conviction, such sincerity, that for a moment, you consider it. But you came here with a plan and no matter how much it hurts, you’re going to go through with it.

“Rin please. I’ve made up my mind already. Goodbye.”

And so his heart lays there in tatters while you just walk away.

Even thinking about it is painful but it supplies his brain with much needed information, things that could get him a second chance.

You didn’t want to be less than his soccer dreams. He won’t dial back his dreams, not for you, not for anyone but he could show you how much you mean to him. His first attempt clearly went poorly so how could he create a more favorable outcome the next time? Maybe gifts weren’t the way to go, after all you had never been a very materialistic person. Maybe a display of his determination to make it work? He could play the long game and wait for you but that was too risky for his tastes and he wanted you back now. He’d wait for a little, maybe a week, and then worm his way back into your life while keeping other guys away from you. Was it the best plan? No. Was it the best plan? No. But it's the best one he came up with in his limited time so he’ll try it first before revising. He can’t wait to have you back.

[hanasnx]

Can we pretty please hear more about ani being beat up before sex 🙏🙏🙏🙏

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: you call me papi indy i’ll do anything you want me to. i love talking about anakin getting beat up before sex— this is all i could think up off the dome, but! ppl should ask me/talk to me about anakin’s deranged impact play kink more often like this. get really violent with it | based on this post and this post | @xstarkillerx WARNINGS: severe impact play (both receiving), and some smutty material, brat!reader mentioned

! ── the thing is, i have no idea how a normal person would react when asked, “hey, i get my rocks off when i’m fought in the right circumstances. help me out?” so we’ll just have to pretend that you, our dear reader, are not normal

! ── you’ve accepted your lover, ANAKIN SKYWALKER, is into some strange things, things you wouldn’t expect he’d get a boner about. one of them being, injury during sparring

he wants to hurt. and he also likes the consensual impact play and risk of hurting each other during sparring. he wouldn’t use the force in any way, solely him and his flesh (his metal arm is not used as an advantage either, not that he’s going easy on you, he’s just not trying to kill you). the rush of seeing you fight against him, even if he may think it’s futile. in turn, he cannot get enough of the adrenaline that he sustains when you land a strike.

being close to you, your back to his chest, and you gain enough room to elbow him in his nose. blood speeds to his cock. snatching a fist full of your hair to draw you back to him like a leash.

when you tire him out, he pins you with his body weight. your wrists in his hands, heaving over you, drooling on you. you wiggle underneath him, try anything to shift things in your favor, and he can’t help but rip your clothes off and have you right now on this mat.

! ── things like slapping him for commenting out-of-pocket-offensive shit unprompted, have given you insight as to how he accepts it. a fire ignites in his eyes. it grows until he cannot tell the difference between anger and lust.

when you act like a brat and need someone like him to put you in your place, it makes it all the more satisfactory when you fight him on it. banging your fists against his chest, and then his lower back when he throws you over his shoulder

when you try to kick him, he catches your ankle, and now you’re balancing on one leg essentially at his mercy. but he would’ve let it land if he felt like it. prove to you the kind of pain he can take, show you how much stronger he is.

! ── once you’ve gotten comfortable with everything (hardened by the war, you’ve learned how to take a punch. your pain tolerance is nothing short of advanced) anakin manages to land a hit onto your cheek, and he sucks on the bruise while he blows your back out

! ── there are times where he’s not in the mood to cause you pain, and so “sparring” becomes a “blocking exercise.” all the moves at his disposal, are dodging/blocking your attacks. of course, it’s impossible to block all of them, you’re a formidable opponent. which means he’s thinking of how he can turn this around in order fuck you on all-fours, while you’re kneeing his gut and flipping him onto the mat

! ── this specific kink of his, is his way of “safely” creating an outlet for that energy that’s generated in places like battle. instead of using that energy to maim and kill mercilessly, he directs it onto an activity thats mutually fun for the both you.

! ── being beaten, but knowing he’s large enough to stop it any time he wants to adds to the appeal.

! ── it becomes yours and his way of blowing off steam. taking out everything on each other. that’s essentially what he wants. whatever is burning up inside, to be unleashed on someone that’ll love you for it.

[rjthirsty]

Ikemen Princess Prologue

Based off the otome game Ikemen Prince, I've created an AU where the princes are (mostly) female, and MC is male. Several character names have been changed to suit their new gender (notes will be provided), and lore has been altered to work with the new setting and my accompanying headcanons.

Words: ~1.5k Tags: AU with Gender Changes, My First Long Fic, Chaptered, Scheduled Release A/N: You can find this and other chapters located on my ao3 account or on the Ikemen Princess Masterlist on my tumblr blog. Leanne = OG Leon.

Chapter Three: The Beast and the Beast

“If you really want to kick up a fuss, I’ll take you on. What do you say?” The mystery woman quirked a smirk, eyes narrowing at the drunk.

There was something about her that was larger than life, and the street grew quiet around her as all eyes were drawn to her. I slowly lowered my arms, realizing I wasn’t in immediate danger anymore. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, which she must have heard because she glanced over her shoulder at me and her amber eyes met mine. Suddenly I wasn’t able to draw air, my breath catching in my throat.

Wow… I have never seen anyone with so much presence! It’s like you dominate the scene just by existing!

Her gaze swept the crowd, the gaze of a predator looking for her next meal, and nobody wanted to meet it. Released from the hold of those hungry eyes on me, I managed to suck some air back into my lungs. The tension in the air continued to mount, she was clearly not someone you should pick a fight with, and everyone else had sensed it, too.

Well… ALMOST everyone.

Despite the fact that the drunk had let her casually lower his fist, he must have found his courage the moment her eyes weren’t pinning him to the spot anymore.

“You wanna fight me? Yeah? Let’s do it!” The drunkard leaned as he turned to face her rather than me.

Her eyes cut back to the man. “You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that,” she said with a grin growing on her lips.

I threw my hands up placatingly, “Wait, wait, wait! Can’t we find a peaceful way to resolve this?”

“Shuddup!” Mr. Belligerent yelled, swinging back his foot and angrily kicking at my fallen books, sending several of them flying. I watched in horror as they soared through the air, pages flapping wildly, before landing in the middle of the street. Of course, it had to be right as someone was riding a horse straight towards them.

If it had been any other day, the sight of the majestic white horse would have been a sight for sore eyes, but today the steed that showed no fear at something large landing directly in its path told me a lot about the temperament. Normal horses tended to spook, especially if they didn’t have blinders on. This wasn’t a normal horse. My eyes slid up the animal to the rider on its back, an aristocrat for sure. She was staring down at the books as she reined her horse in, her light blonde hair long enough to obscure her eyes, but not the downwards tilt of her head that proved she was looking at the books.

“Who would be so insolent?” It almost sounded like she was talking to herself as her piercing eyes lifted from the books. A gaze as cold as ice landed on the drunk and she demanded, “Was it you?”

Something ruthless glittered deep within that ice-blue stare, like a tiger catching sight of its prey. She wasn’t even looking at me, yet I was afraid to move, afraid even the slightest twitch would bring death pouncing down on me. The only thing I could move were my eyes in this overwhelming presence, and that’s when the crest on her saddle made my heart lurch.

Oh, shit. Oh no! You’re a member of the royal family?!

“Huh?! Who the hell d’ya think ya are? Stop sneerin’ at me!” Mr. Belligerent Drunk challenged the royal woman. His face was already red from the alcohol, but it was clear his anger caused it to flush darker and he began stomping on my books.

My jaw dropped, all of this was the most unexpected series of events. I was silently hoping that I could laugh about it all later, but at the moment I was half-frozen with fear as the situation continued to escalate.

“I hadn’t intended to participate in such a vulgar side show, but perhaps this is how one finds amusement at a festival?” The royal woman spoke with disdain, her hand reaching towards her hip where her sword was strapped.

The babble of the festival around me seemed to fade into silence. Wait. The cruelty in her eyes was as clear and sharp as her gaze, honed in on the root of the problem. The drunk wasn’t just a nuisance, he was a bug only worthy of being squashed beneath her boot. Wait– Don’t! Sunlight gleamed off the blade, almost blinding me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was moving.

I grabbed the drunk man who was throwing a tantrum and incurring the wrath of the beast on horseback by his shirt collar, which caused him to refocus his attention on me.

“Wha-?!”

He started to protest, but I didn’t let him get another sound out before I hurriedly hissed, “Pull yourself together!” And landed a slap on his face that brought a sting to my own hand.

To be fair, I didn’t intend to slap him that hard. I didn’t intend to slap him at all! At the last second I chickened out from a straight fist to the face because I thought it would end up hurting a lot more. I had never actually hit someone before, I had never been in a violent fight. But I had read about bruised knuckles and broken bones from hitting hard objects, and a skull was pretty hard.

I could feel people staring at me. Lots of people. But most of all, I could feel the gaze of two startled predators on me.

“What was that for?!” Mr. Drunk and Violent groaned as he brought his own hand up to his cheek. His eyes seemed to clear for a moment, pupils refocusing like he could see me for the first time that day.

“You need to. Calm. Down.” I choked, speaking in a hushed tone since I was finding it hard to raise my voice above a raspy stutter from the tightness in my throat. “Or do you want to get yourself killed over this?!” I thrusted my stinging hand towards the books at our feet, I then flung it in the direction of the royal woman, waving it frantically to indicate the crest on her saddle, and the sword she was gripping.

He followed my wild gesturing, and all the color drained from his face. It was clear I’d finally gotten through to him, and I puffed a quick sigh of relief. I let go of his collar and smoothed it out, then patted it, trying to come up with my next step, my eyes cast downwards and not daring to look the blonde woman in the eyes.

“I…” A squeak was all that really managed to escape my stress-constricted airway. I swallowed the hard lump, my mouth the driest desert, the lack of lubricant causing me to give a small cough to clear my throat. “I’m very sorry if we caused you any trouble.” I dared a glance up at her before continuing on. “I hope you can find some way to forgive and forget this incident.”

And my eyes were back on the ground, head slightly bent downward. I didn’t want to see the daggers in her eyes. Suddenly an idea struck me and I gasped a little, “Oh!”

I folded my arm in front of me, and the other behind me and bent myself at the waist to imitate what I’d imagined a proper bow would look like. I had no idea how to address royalty, but it wasn’t like I had ever had the chance. The best bet I had was the brief descriptions in books.

Without warning the amber-eyed woman burst out laughing, a loud, refreshing sound that cut straight through the tension. I was so wound up I nearly jumped out of my skin, but I could feel the mood in the air lightening immediately.

“Don’t worry, she’s not so petty that she’d actually kill someone over something like this.”

“Huh?” I gawked at the dark-haired woman. It sounded like she knew the blonde from the royal family.

“Are you done playing, Chevalier?” Another well-dressed woman appeared, shrugging smoothly as she reined in on her chestnut horse next to the white one.

“Yes,” Chevalier - the blonde royalty - said curtly. “This was a waste of my time.”

The tension began to seep out of me, until I realized Chevalier’s icy gaze was focused on my books, strewn across the ground.

“Are those books yours?”

“Yeah…” I answered cautiously, watching her warily.

She fell silent again, still staring intently at my books, and my breath hitched in my throat as her eyes narrowed.

What am I missing here? I couldn’t figure out where this was headed. The drunk’s tirade was over, I had apologized, and the dark-haired woman claimed Chevalier wasn’t the type to kill over something like this, yet she hadn’t moved on yet.

Her gaze moved suddenly from the books to me, pinning me to the spot, and I only distantly heard the woman next to her speak. “What now? Don’t tell me you’re in the mood for romance?”

“Romance is worthless, but–”

For the second time today, I made a very unmanly “eep” as her sword moved in a quick, fluid motion towards my throat. I held absolutely still, not even chancing a breath with the tip of her weapon hovering just shy of touching me.

But– why–

She used the flat of the blade to tilt my chin up, forcing me to look at her. “Those books are different. They’re worth more than you are. You’d do well to remember that.”

I wanted to ask ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ but I knew better than to question royalty. And I was keenly aware of the cold steel touching my skin. Instead I gave a faint nod, attempting to not shift my head too much while I relayed that I had heard her words, and the blade moved away from my throat at last.

I watched in stunned silence as she sheathed her sword and took up her reins again, urging her horse onwards. The woman astride the chestnut horse watched Chevalier for a moment, before nudging her own horse gently with her calves. But as she rode away, I saw her gaze move towards me, and I was startled by the bright amusement glittering in those golden eyes. 

The second they were both gone, I felt the tension inside me unraveling all at once, and I took a great, gasping breath. I felt strangely tingly and lightheaded, my nerves all firing at once to catch up with everything I had ignored during the tense events. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the drunkard sinking weakly to the ground.

I thought that was going to end really, really badly… and I’m so glad we’re all still alive.

“Seven hells…” I muttered, the world filtering back into existence around me. The crowd grew louder or my heartbeat grew quieter, I wasn’t entirely sure which. I felt the sun shining on me, warming my numb fingers and face. After several deep breaths, I turned to face the amber-eyed woman who had stepped in and been my savior.

“Thank you for helping us. I’m indebted to you– incredibly so. Would you mind if I asked your name?”

“It’s Leanne. And you can relax a little, I stepped in because I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Er– well, thanks, Leanne.” We just looked at each other for several seconds before I slid my eyes away, growing uncomfortable from the silence. “Do you… know that woman? The one on the white horse?”

“Yeah,” she said as I saw her moving out of the corner of my eye, belatedly realizing she was gathering up my fallen books. “But we’ve never really talked that much. Here you go.”

“Ah! Oh, thank you!” I started turning the books over in my hands, inspecting them as I piled them under one arm. They were a little scuffed, but somehow they didn’t end up torn or badly damaged.

And a good thing too– I spent WAY too much money on these.

“You really like books, huh?”

“I love them! They’re usually way more interesting than the real world. Not so much today…” I trailed off as I turned to glance the way Chevalier and the other woman had rode off. Suddenly I recalled how this all started and I spun to look for the young boy who I had originally come to the aide of. He was still sitting on the ground, sniffling and curled up with his knees pulled towards his chest.

I crouched down to get on an equal level with the kid, Leanne doing the same, but it was her who spoke first.

“Hey, little guy, you okay?”

With attention back on him, a fresh set of tears started again. “Mama…” He sobbed.

“You’re lost, huh?” Leanne offered her hand. “Come with me, then.”

The boy’s watery eyes went to her hand. “Can–hic… Can you find… Mama?” He almost wailed again, but Leanne was quick to answer.

“Sure can! Let’s go find her together.” She smiled like warm sunshine and the little boy took up her hand. She helped him to his feet, then scooped him up and easily set the kid on her shoulders.

Wow, I don’t know what to say– you’re like an entirely different person now.

I was watching her, rising to stand as well. I was probably staring. The stalking lion was gone, her predator’s gaze now friendly and almost sweet somehow. Her gentle smile gave my heart a little flutter. Her entire presence was still larger than life, but it was comforting now and for some reason I felt the desire to stay near her.

“Umm, Mis’er?” The kid, now higher up than me, tentatively called to me. I finally stopped staring at Leanne and gave my attention to the little boy. “Thank you for helping me!”

Sweet kid.

I couldn’t help but smile up at him. “You’re welcome! And I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Same goes for you,” Leanne said to me. “Now c’mon, buddy, let’s go.”

Before I could offer to help them search, Leanne was weaving through the crowd, her hand lifted in a casual wave. I’d have to thank her properly if I ever ran into her again, and she sure stands out, so I hope I’ll catch her again one day. I watched until they were out of sight and then I turned away, hugging my books to my chest as I made my way through the crowds.

[randoimago]

Day 11. Heartbroken Banshee x Reader

Note(s): Ngl the idea of a banshee that is just lonely and wants affection is a great idea and I'm stealing it for my next D&D game

requested by anon

His existence is a curse. To die of heartbreak but not allowing his soul to move on with his beloved. Instead, he’s forced to be in this state between life and death with his heart forever filled with grief.

It doesn’t help that the only emotions he seems to feel are either anguish or rage. It doesn’t help that when he screams and cries, the sound causes despair in anyone else that hears. It doesn’t help that he’s so damned lonely.

Some have tried adventuring to the long forgotten hut that he used to live at. Some have tried to explore the forest that he resided with his beloved. And all those that do end up dying because he won’t allow them to ruin his home. To damage the memory of his love.

And the someone else comes by and he’s filled with anger again, but he’s also just tired of being angry. He keeps watch, not showing himself just yet. His anger is growing as you get closer to his home, but it simmers as you move behind his hut, seeing the makeshift grave.

He doesn’t think anyone else has noticed it before. Usually people just trample over the mud and dirt and try to enter his home for whatever valuables they think they’d find. But now you, you actually seem to be looking around first, taking note of the state of things.

At least, he thought that until he sees you going through your bag. He’s tense at what you might pull out, what you might do to the grave of his past love. But instead you bring out incense, some candles. Instead of the sadness and rage he always feels, this time there’s something else that pulls at his heart. An emotion he’s long forgotten.

He stays out of view, continuing to watch as you light the candles and incense. He doesn’t know rather it’s prayer or to ward off evil spirits or maybe it’s an offering to the dead. He doesn’t know, but seeing someone acknowledge the grave, to do something nice, he can’t help moving closer.

“Thank you.” His voice is raspy, hoarse and scratchy from all his crying and screams that his existence has become. You’re startled, of course, but you don’t seem too frightened.

“You’re a banshee?” You ask and he recognizes the term. He’s heard legends of them when he was living.

“Yes.” Because what else would he be.

“There’s been rumors around town about something killing people in this forest. Rumors of it protecting a treasure.” Your words make him angry, not at you, but the fact that that’s the reason so many have tried coming to his home.

“Those rumors are false. There’s no treasure here, just mourning.”

He expected you to leave or pesture him for information regarding whatever treasure. Instead, you look at him with curiosity. As if lost in thought or like he’s fascinating. He supposes there’s not many stories of “kind” banshees.

“Who are you mourning?” You ask, your voice soft and his heart clenches. Or, the ghost of his heart does.

“My partner. This was our home. Sickness took them away from me and heartbreak caused my own death,” he explains, feeling a freeing sort of feeling with talking to someone. “But the gods are cruel and I didn’t get to be with them.”

“And now people have ruined your home in hopes of finding treasure.”

He nods to your words, feeling anger again, but he pushes it aside. He hasn’t talked to anyone in so long, he doesn’t want to harm you because of his emotions overwhelming you both.

“Well, I’ll go back to my home and let them know there’s no treasure here. I’ll figure out some excuse. Maybe say there’s a vampire or something in the area.”

He feels amusement from your words. “A vampire?”

“I doubt anyone would believe I managed to escape from a banshee. With a vampire, I can lie and say I splashed it with holy water or something.” He’s more amused at the thought, it’s nice to have a lighter feeling fill him than the sorrow and rage.

“Maybe a different creature. I’m sure some believing to be vampire hunters will come here. and I’d hate to kill those thinking they’re trying to do good.”

He feels regret now from his words. Perhaps even fear? That is also an emotion he hasn’t felt in so long. But he worries of scaring you from what he said.

“I’ll think of something then.” His eyes widen as he watches you stand and gather your things. There’s a lurch in his chest, more fear as he reaches his arm out. Regret fills his eyes as he watches you shiver from cold.

“My apologies, I don’t know what-“ Except he does know why he did that. He didn’t initially, but now he realizes. “You’ll visit again?” He asks, his voice quiet.

“Do you want me to?” You barely get the sentence out before he nods, not understanding why he’s so needy. Perhaps he’s just been lonely for too long. That must be why. Having someone around to talk to after decades of being alone is making him react strangely.

“Alright, then I’ll make sure to visit.” He feels light again. So light. It’s a far cry from the anger and sadness. In fact, it’s the opposite. He’s happy. Hopeful.

“Thank you.” He hopes you recognize the relief in his tone of not being alone. He doesn’t know if you do, but the smile you give him is enough to melt the coldness he’s perpetually felt.

He watches you walk away, already wishing you’d stay and talk to him, but he can’t be selfish. Instead, a smile crosses his face as he sits on the ground. Or sits as much as a ghost can.

“My love, someone new came by…” He murmurs as he speaks to the grave of his past lover. His heart light as he isn’t so lonely anymore.