#hmm my wording here is kind of jumbled. whatever

[czolgosz]

you know that "life of an unknown assassin" essay thing. anyway the part about leon czolgosz homosexuality speculation has this bit about people describing him as effeminate, which kind of bothers me that its mentioned bc in the listed source, it's meant in the context of him not working outside of the house (which was seen as woman behavior), so like thats different and not really relevant to this topic of the essay

[janglingargot]

Her monitors are angled just so, her snacks are laid out within arm's reach, and her reference files are open and ready to go. Peppermint laces her fingers together and stretches her arms to full extension, palms out, then grins. Time to get to work.

There are a lot of upsides to having the battle for the Vandelay legacy behind her, but one of the best is having time to spend on her own personal projects again. Getting her mom's old truck running last month felt fantastic. It's like she's a teenager again, spending her spare hours puttering around with whatever gadgets or programs she's currently inspired by.

No more staying up all night, stressing out about how to crack into protected systems. No more cobbling together kludged equipment that might get her past Kale's defenses. She's free to do...pretty much whatever she wants.

It's kind of amazing.

Brow furrowed in concentration, she clicks on the spot in her code where she left off last time, and begins to type.

The door to the hideout slams open.

"Peppermint?"

Welp. So much for concentrating. Peppermint frowns and types faster, trying to get the string written down before she forgets the idea she's got queued up in her head. "Hey, Chai," she mumbles, half-distracted.

Despite her best efforts to ignore them, she can hear Chai's footsteps crossing the room toward her, followed by the staccato patter of 808's paws. Chai leans curiously over her shoulder, peering at the jumble of code on the monitors in front of her. He wrinkles his nose, perplexed, glancing from screen to screen.

"Well, that looks...impressive," he says, vaguely. "Hey, uh...listen, I can see that you're busy, but I was wondering...do you have a minute?"

"Mm-hmm," Peppermint mutters, under her breath, hunching closer to the keyboard. If she can just get a first draft banged out, she can tune it up later. "Can it wait, like, two seconds?"

"Sorry," Chai says, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck. "It's just, my arm's been acting up, and it's...kinda starting to cause me some problems, so I was hoping you could maybe take a look at it for me--"

"Two seconds, Chai!" Peppermint cuts him off impatiently. Her fingers are scrambling across the keys with a clatter of clacking plastic. "I will be right with you, I swear, but first I need to get this written down, okay?"

"...All right. Fine." Chai sighs, kicking at the floor with one sneaker, and slumps off toward the media loft. "I'll just...be over here. When you're ready."

(Ao3 link to the rest)

[wuahae]

CONGRATS AGAIN MY LOVELY SHING STAR BFF TWINSTER 4LYFER CAT!!!! im forever proud of u my lovely <333

hopefully i can send a little request of jacob (sorry i am in my crazy cobster feelings) + 8:24 pm + a library!!

(suggestive; minors dni!)

[20:24] / library

-

“jacob.”

there’s the distinct noise of your clothes rustling, wooden chair creaking as jacob leans over more, breathing in your scent as he nuzzles into the nape of your neck. “hmm?”

“jacob, not here.” a beat of silence, and then nothing. he shifts lower—higher, if you account for his hand on your thigh. you try again, voice wavering. “jacob.”

“yes, my love?”

“don’t ‘my love’ me!” you hiss, smacking him lightly. “we could get caught!”

he hums again, leisurely, innocently. “by who?”

it’s times like these you really wonder how you end up in situations like this. the only reason you were in this godforsaken (you can only hope god isn’t watching) library in the first place on a friday night was because you had this cursed essay due at midnight, and by the time you’d arrived at the library in the afternoon, you hadn’t even started. jacob had joined you around six pm with the promise of dinner together, but as the minutes ticked by and the essay wasn’t exactly writing itself, that promise seemed more futile by the second.

(“let’s go,” he’d said, tucking his chin on your shoulder as he looked over at your laptop. “you can take a little break to go eat.”

“i can’t,” you bemoaned, fingers clacking away at your keyboard, 15 separate tabs opened on your browser along with multiple other windows. “this is life or death.”

well, it might as well have been. this damn thing was worth 15% of your grade.

jacob then drawled out your name slowly, sweetly, and instinctively, you tensed. the cursor blinked on your screen, halfway through typing a word. a chill ran up your spine—you’ve known him long enough to sense danger before it came.)

and that was how the situation escalated to this, secluded in the stacks of the library, completely at your boyfriend’s mercy.

“we’re going to get banned from the library,” you manage to make out through breathless puffs of air and restrained whines as jacob inches his fingers higher up your inner thigh, tracing little shapes onto the sensitive skin. he sucks on the thin skin of your throat once, like a point of emphasis, before letting go to murmur.

“don’t worry,” he assures. “no one’s coming by here at this hour. and besides—” jacob makes his first bold move, his thumb moving up and brushing slightly over your underwear. “even if we did get caught, we wouldn’t get banned. the librarian loves me.”

he gives a little more pressure, a soft tug at the nape of your neck, and a soft moan passes by your lips before you slap your hand over your mouth, squeaking out whatever was left. “jacob!”

“so you do want to get caught,” jacob muses, warm breath twisting your stomach into knots. “i’m okay with that too, but you should have just said so from the beginning. we could have chosen a much more conspicuous—” he strokes you again, harder, and your legs spread involuntarily “—spot.”

“th…that’s not what i—” you try to say, but it all comes out jumbled from your cotton-heavy tongue, brain foggy as the ugly yellow library lights clash with the blue light emitting from the computer screen, half-written document staring right back at you. “you know i have to get this done.”

“you can spare a few moments to go eat, love.” it must be a talent of his, the ability to sound so sweet and kind even as he watches you dissolve away in his palm like wet tissue paper. no wonder no one ever believes you when you tell them of your jacob-inflicted woes. “you haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“i had a—ah—a protein bar.”

jacob tilts your chin towards him with his other hand, a disapproving look. “now we both know that isn’t a meal.”

you choke back a frustrated cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “jacob—”

“why are you calling me that?”

“what?”

“my name,” jacob says, thumbing the edge of your underwear aside. your gut twists again, breath catching as he ghosts a finger over you, fully bared for him. satisfaction seeps and settles into him, even as he tries to keep up the innocent charade, the way he smiles knowing he has you right where he wants you. he knows exactly what to expect when he starts these kinds of things with you, having done so too many times before; this time is no different. “call me cobie, like you always do.”

this is it. this truly is the end for you. everything feels so loud—your restrained moans, the rumble of the air conditioning, the slip of his finger against you that only gets more obscene as he mouths at you. cobie is for when he’s normal, when he’s kind and gentle and the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend, not when he’s like this, when he’s trying to unmake you until he’s left with only your want. it’s why you try your luck again, consequences be damned. (maybe out of spite, maybe to gain back some sense of control in the midst of his molding.) “jacob, i really don’t think that’s what we should be—”

“cobie,” he corrects, insistent. “say it with me. co—“ he draws out the syllables, sweet and melodic, hand slipping completely underneath your panties and pinching your clit “—bie.”

the surprised yelp that escapes you is unrestrained, unfiltered, the embarrassment rushing through your veins somehow just making the burning in your core grow hotter. “come on, say it,” jacob probes, and you’re fumbling to hold onto anything that can ground you: the chair edge, the table, the toned arm between your legs, flexing as he slowly drags you to a high.

“can you feel that?” he asks softly, palm pressed firm against you, slick and wet and desperate. he drags his fingers (the second is a new addition; he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches) and lets them catch at your opening. your head spins, his fingers teasing around and never in. “looks like your body is honest even when you don’t want to be.” 

jacob lingers, pauses his ministrations for a moment too long, and you let out a questioning whine in response. it’s pleading, it’s instinctive, it’s downright humiliating, but it pales in comparison to the way you feel yourself clench around nothing, the way your hips twitch and jerk, rutting against anything he’s willing to give you.

“p—please—”

jacob grinds his hand down, sucking at a spot beneath your jaw that has you clenching again, words incomprehensible and slurred and almost piteous with how much you beg. he runs a hand along your jaw and guides your face to him once again, his eyes patient and giving, the meaning you know of far too well. he’ll give you what you need, if you give him what he wants. and he stills. “‘please,’ what?”

fuck it all. fuck propriety and what’s left of your dignity and fuck that goddamn assignment. you've had your grave dug—you have for a long time. all you needed to do now is lie in it. blood pounds in your ears, white noise buzzing through your body; the defeat forms heavy on your tongue, your mind hazy and scrabbling for something. anything. (desire is a potent thing, and jacob has always known just where to press to make you crumble.) “please…cobie.”

jacob’s hand traces your cheek gently, lovingly, as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on (you are. you always have been), and smiles. “that’s my girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as his fingers beneath you draw nearer once more, ready to plunge in and claim what’s his for the taking—

a notification pops up in the corner of your laptop, the little jingle signifying a new email sounding through the empty library. lolling your head against his shoulder, you move to catch a glimpse of what could possibly be sent to you at eight in the evening, only to see an announcement that makes you forget everything that was happening prior: good evening class. due to unforeseen circumstances, the essay final draft due date will be changed to monday midnight. hope you’re all doing well. happy weekend!

you both blink at the screen, frozen. jacob pulls his hand away from you, scooching his chair back to its regular place, but you’re still reading the email over and over again to make sure you aren’t hallucinating in a fit of hysteria.

“i’m not imagining it, right?” you ask jacob dumbly, pointing at the screen. “he really posted an extension?”

“yup!” jacob grins back. “isn’t this great? now we can finally go home.”

you shut your laptop, a sigh of relief heaving from your chest as you move to slip it back into your backpack. “thank god, cause even without what you were trying to pull, i really was not going to make it in time for—what are you doing?”

hand on the edge of your chair, jacob’s pushed you out slightly from underneath the table, kneeling to slip into the gap before pulling you back in. he places one hand on each of your knees, a distinct glint in his eyes. “well, we have to finish what we started, don’t we?”

fear. dread. a strange, twisted sense of arousal. “i thought you wanted to go get dinner?”

“i do,” jacob smiles, mischievous and teasing as he spreads your legs. pliant. “dinner’s right here.”

[elmariachu]

How would each of The OBEY ME BROTHERS react to MC finding them the most attractive? (The brothers x Fem!MC)

<Summary> : OM Boys & Fem! MC Playing truth or dare, MC gets asked which brother she finds the most attractive as well as their collective responses/reactions based on the brother. [HC/dialogue..]

Part 2

___________________

MC : I'll go for Truth.

Asmo : So~ MC~ Who would you say is the most attractive one out of us???

MC : Oh.. Uhm... *Hesitates*

Asmo : It's me isn't it?~You can say it, don't be shy my dear *chirps merrily..*

Mammon : Pft, shut it, Asmo! Oi, Mc! yer obviously gonna pick me right? I was yer first ye know!

Levi : ..What kind of a question is that?.. *mumbles* I'm not even gonna be on that list..probably.

Satan : How is that related to the question at all, Mammon? If MC has even a bit of common sense, which she does, she would pick me. *Locks eyes* Right? MC.

Belphie : ..wakes up Huh..? What are you arguing about? mMmh..

Beel : Asmo asked MC who she thinks is the most attractive.

Belphie : Out of us? Huuh, I'm interested.

Beel : ...I am curious to know too.

MC : ...*avoids eye contact and tries to think*

Lucifer : What's wrong, MC? Cat bite your tongue? *chuckle* [Knows it's gonna be him and wants to hear her say it already]

Satan : MC, if you are worried about offending us, don't fret. You can be candid. [In his mind it's obviousy gonna be him, do you see the way she blushes at only the sight of his face at times?]

MC : Aaah. But.. it's... Erm. I have to pick only one? *nervous, feeling all eyes on her*

Asmo : Well, of course! My dear~ We all know who it's going to be so don't hold back.

Feeling their patience running thin

MC : But how would you even define ... attractiveness...? I uhm, I think you're all attractive. Objectively..

Mammon : Oi.. What are ye so nervous for? Just say my name MC!

Satan : You're overthinking it, MC. [Just say whatever name comes to your head. Which is gonna be him, of course.]

Levi : .. *mumbles* I want this to be over with, seriously! It's giving me so much anxiety...

Beel : *Stares at MC intently* Hmm..

Belphie : *Laying down on his pillow with one eye open, scanning MC's face* Say it already~

Lucifer : I agree with Satan, You're giving it too much thought MC. Base it on your preferences. Let's get this done with and move on.

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be...

Lucifer :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Lucifer!

*A few are not all that surprised, but most are pretty irritated*

*MC peeks at him with her head hanging, wanting to gauge his reaction despite her embarassment*

Lucifer :*eyes widen slightly, a pink tint forming on his cheeks, but he maintains his composure*

Lucifer : *chuckle* Well, naturally. [Smugness apparent in his expression, eyes closed, conceited smirk, crossed arms, the whole package]

Mammon : *stands up dramatically* WHAT? MC, are ya serious? Yer gonna pick *HIM*?

Lucifer : *shoots him a baleful glare which puts him back in his seat rather quickly*

Satan : MC, you must be blind. *Clearly annoyed*

MC: ...You said you wouldn't be upset. *apologetically looks at Satan*

Satan : You didn't have to go and choose the worst of us, though.

Lucifer : Satan.

Satan : Tch.

Asmo : I see how you can think that, but I'm really hurt you didn't pick me, MC!~ *fake cries*

Levi : *Wasn't even listening, already had his D.D.D. out and was gaming so as not to hear her answer*

Belphie : Ugh. How lame. *goes back to sleep*

Beel : Hm? *Looks down at him* Are you disappointed, Belphie?

Belphie : I'm annoyed she'd pick someone as narcissistic as Lucifer, that's just inflating his already gigantic ego.

Belphie : If anything she should've picked you, Beel.

Beel: ...Well. *poor boy thinks she should've picked belphie bc he's just so cute*

Mammon :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Mammon!

*Incredulous looks shooting from all around the room, their shock is almost palpable, especially Mammon's*

Mammon: *Was the first to snap out of his shock to speak* Wh-what?.. [she picked him? wow. I mean. He wanted her to, part of him believed she might, but she really did...?]

Mammon : W-well, of course! You would choose the *great* Mammon. That's a good human!

[he feigns confidence, is genuinely happy, still thinks she didn't totally mean it for some reason.]

Satan : I'm convinced that you have something wrong your eyesight, MC. *even more annoyed than the last scenario*

Asmo : PFFFT- This must be a joke, right? MC? Tell me you're joking dear. Picking Mammon when I'm here? [genuinely thinks she's pranking them]

Levi : *takes his earphones off in time to hear* Wait, did I hear that right? Did she say Mammon?

*receives glum nods from a couple brothers*

Levi : BAHAHAHA, GOOD ONE, MC! HAHAHA/

Mammon : H-hey! Stop laughing! You're all jealous aren't ya! Bet yer mad it ain't you!

Belphie : No, we're surprised more than anything.

Satan : MC, are you sure you weren't coerced into doing this?

Lucifer : *sigh* MC. I didn't realize you had such strange tastes. I'm disappointed.

Poor guy gets flamed.

Beel :*pretty surprised, expected her answer to be Asmo, Lucifer or Satan. Assumes she doesn't find him attractive and is kind of sad*

POOR BABY IDIDJDJ

Levi :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Levi!

*Once again, everyone finds it a bit hard to believe, though they're kind of happy for him.*

*They're not sure how to react, & no word is uttered for a while*

Levi : Uh.. Yes? Do you need something MC? [why is she shouting out his name right before a big revelation like that? Did she want his help in delivering the answer?] *Is genuinely confused*

Levi : *upon receiving no response, puts his earphones back in*

Asmo : Heeeh? It's Levi? Really??

Mammon : Levi? You're gonna pick that anti-social shut-in over ME, *THE* Mammon ? REALLY?

Satan : Huh. I didn't expect that. [What a peculiar taste this human has.]

Levi : *Takes off his earphones again, upon hearing his name being mentioned too much*

Levi : You're being distracting, what do you normies want? *is annoyed*

Mammon : Oi Levi, you absolute idiot. She picked you.

Levi : Picked me for what? Why are you involving me in your normie plans.

Asmo : Ugh, seriously? He doesn't even realize it.

Asmo : MC sweetie! You can always take it back, I'm the better choice anyway~

Lucifer : I doubt he will ever even begin to believe it, this is futile. Let's move on.

Belphie : "Pshh. MC is probably the first person to find him attractive. How funny."

Beel : ... [Not much to say, he's just like "oh? I see". They do spend a lot of time together after all. Finds it endearing, he has someone who's attracted to him now.] MY PRECIOUS BABY

Levi : *takes him a good minute to realize what's actually going on, only after seeing MC's flushed face, her growing frustration at his responses, the remarks of his brothers all jumbled together that he starts to understand*

Levi : *All comes down on him at once, blood rushes to his head and he shortcircuits as MC stares at him*

Mammon : O-oi! Levi! Are you okay?

Boy is not okay.

Satan :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Satan!

*Again, Satan was an expected response, not much surprise there, he was arguably the most held-together one of the bunch*

Satan : [Oh? He knew she'd choose him. Her prior reactions proved that much. But was still a bit taken aback, she singled him out, it pleased him.]

Satan : Is that so? I'm honored, MC. *shoots MC playful smirk, feigning surprise*

Mammon : Seriously? Satan? Booo! [thinks he's one of the lame options, he's so uptight, he reminds him of lucifer, then again thinks the only non-lame choice is himself.]

Lucifer : Hm. Satan? He's a reasonable enough choice. If I hadn't picked myself, I would have done the same.

Satan : [the hell did he just say?] *mumbles* ..Disgusting.

Satan : No one asked for your input, Lucifer.

Levi : That's a TMI bro. *isn't surprised by the answer either, typical basic normie answer, is secretly salty*

Lucifer : What does that mean? Leviathan? And Satan, care to repeat what you said? *cue sadistic smile*

Satan : TCH.

MC : ...

Belphie : Hm, Satan's not too bad of a choice. at least she didn't pick Lucifer. [as close to a compliment as you'll get from belphie, just take it]

Beel : ...I suppose. [Again, expected Satan to be the answer, is used to seeing people swoon for him effortlessly..]

Satan is the pretty boy apparently

Will drop Asmo, Beel, & Belphie next!

Part 2 !

[team-council-two]

hi! for cosmas, where in australia do you think sniper gets most of his slang from, and do you think he uses modern words, or mostly ones from ~80s/90s aus? (I'm australian, just wondered what you thought, since i always see different state's slang mixing together when it comes to online attempts to write fully bogan characters like sniper.)

Hmm. That's a toughie. Like you said, Sniper's kind of a jumble since he's an attempt at writing a bogan without any, y'know, actual bogans involved (not that it really matters, makes him funnier to me personally). He's even got some cockney slang in his voicelines. As a short answer, I've always figured he lived in Queensland or NT, but when it's so general it pretty much boils down to "which state do you think Sniper's vague red patch of outback is in?" All you can 100% rule out is Tasmania.

However, the short answer is pretty boring, so here's the long one. The problem with trying to determine where Sniper gets most of his slang from, whether you're trying to narrow down the region, state, or any other sort of geographical category, is that compared to other English speaking countries, we don't have nearly as much distinction. I know it sounds odd (it sure as hell did to me but I'm trusting my teacher and, like, several documentaries I had to watch in classes on this one) but the arbitrary markers we use to determine if someone's accent means they're from Melbourne or Adelaide are... kind of nothing, at least in comparison to what it's like in the States or the UK. Maybe if you've lived here your whole life you're able to pick up how someone from Adelaide sounds different to someone from Melbourne, but provided they have the same type of Aussie accent (and there's three, those being broad (aka bogan), general, and cultivated), most people won't be able to tell the difference. This is obviously a major simplification which fails to address how a billion different things impact someone's dialect, but that would be a bit much to consider for Sniper. He's basically as simple in the dialect department as it gets.

The reason I go on this tangent about accents is because that falls roughly in line with how we use slang, too. While there might be a difference in some things (me calling a milk bar a... well, a milk bar, firmly places me in Victoria, for example), the more general stuff, like bloody and crikey, is more an indicator of how you grew up than where. Sniper grew up in the outback, he has a broad accent, and he didn't really hang out too much with other people his age in whatever tiny little country school he went to. (That is, of course, assuming that he really was in the middle of nowhere and that there wasn't secretly a large town near his house that we didn't see in the comics.) What I'm saying here is that wherever you think his parents came from is probably where he got most of his slang from, so again, it's all really up to you personally. Just rule out the cities (and Tasmania, for obvious reasons), and your guess is as good as mine.

As for the time period of his slang, while most of it is pretty timeless, there is some stuff (e.g. shonky and yobbo) which only came into use in the 70's and was only really popularised in the years after that. You can obviously write his slang however you like and from whatever decade you see fit, but if you wanted a more concrete answer, 70's or 80's would be it at the earliest. This is going off the in-game voicelines, seeing as the most risqué they get in the comics is "kark it" which has also been around for literal centuries, so if you're wondering why Sniper's using jargon that came about in the 70's... I dunno, maybe he invented it. It's the funny hat game, it wouldn't be the most outlandish thing ever. If you're asking whether he'd use modern words for a modern AU, then I can safely assure you that he would, and may even be inventing slang we haven't even heard of yet.

[hard--mode]

Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[anxresi]

I could line my wall with all the posts Thomas has made about Chloe tonight. (around 50, by my count)

If you wanna read them, don’t bother.

I certainly won’t be sharing any of them

What would be the point?

Because basically, they amount to one thing...

Chloe is bad, and we’re bad people for liking her.

That’s it.

And for anyone thinking that he kids around a lot with his comments...

I’m pretty sure this is something he feels VERY strongly about.

Or he wouldn’t expand so much energy in constantly talking her down.

So no, I don’t think we’re going to get a Chloe redemption.

No, I don’t think she’ll be Queen Bee again. 

No, I can’t see any real change in her behavior.

She’ll just remain the same ol’ hatable Chloe, the ‘evil’ girl that young kids apparently ‘get’ that adults don’t understand...

Yep, apparently we’re ‘dumb’ for wanting her to improve and develop!

To provide a good example for bullies out there that they can be more than just abusers all their lives!

Children couldn’t possibly grasp the delicate subtleties of self-improvement as you grow up!

It’s all so clear now!

Stupid us!

Also, her merchandise doesn’t sell very well.

Another good case for her staying as a villain, I guess.

And she’s compared to a monster and a domestic abuser.

This damaged teenage girl.

Yeah, sounds about right.

And all those tender moments where she showed empathy and love were just ‘fake outs’ all along.

Makes total sense!

And anyone who wanted more from her is just ‘delusional’ and is ‘writing the show in their head’.

Exactly!

Except...

That’s not the way it seemed on screen at all.

When she hugged Miss Bustier

Or had a heart-to-heart with Ladybug

When she risked her life as Queen Bee

Showed genuine concern for Adrien

When she finally appreciated Jean-something

And shared moments of friendship with Sabrina

These did NOT come across as part of an elaborate plot twist

From a show which isn’t exactly known for its complex writing.

They seemed to form part of a ladder...

Which would inevitably climb to a true character shift.

Where this flawed teenage girl could take a long, hard look at her life.

And realize she didn’t HAVE to be like her awful mother.

Or as power-hungry as her father.

She could learn lessons from her favorite superhero Ladybug...

Become a better person...

And an even greater superhero.

She could still keep her sassy attitude.

Just be a bit kinder and selfless, that’s all.

But, nope.

EVERY bit of niceness we witnessed on screen...

None of it was real.

It was all influenced by ‘class’.

Even her childhood friendship with Adrien was nothing.

If he was as poor as the rest of his classmates, she would’ve bullied him too.

Straight from Thomas’s own mouth.

One of the best relationships in the show, gone just. Like. THAT.

He also said to ‘redeem’ her at this stage would be too ‘unconvincing’?

ORLY?

I hate to return to critical mode...

But the show ain’t exactly known for its consistent writing.

One minute Marinette is confident around Adrien...

Next she’s a nervous jumble of words.

It sets up two new ships for Mari and Adrien with great fanfare...

Only to ditch them both two eps later.

(Also, what the **** did they plan to do with Lila?!)

In other words, this isn’t a show that plays the long game

Whether this is to satisfy the networks’ demand to air the eps out of order idk.

The point is that trying to tell us that Chloe’s ‘arc’ was some grand scheme...

Where she’d have a few sympathetic moments only to emerge worst than ever afterwards....

I simply don’t believe it.

Either this is terrible, amateurish writing of the worst kind...

Or Thomas flexed his influence behind the scenes...

And put an abrupt end to Chloe’s development before it really got started.

It doesn’t really matter which reason I guess.

What DOES matter is this petty and spiteful man sees fit to bash her in around 70% of his online interactions right now.

He could just ignore the posts but nope, he goes right in there, full throttle. 

You can just tell how smart he is with his intimate psychological breakdowns of why Chloe is the way she is...

When we all know the actual reason... he just couldn’t be bothered.

Far better to create a whole new character, give her none of the depths that could make a developed Chloe such a pain to write...

And then 'reward’ her with the position of Queen Bee, for being super-sweet and as shallow as a puddle.

And oops, make her Chloe’s half-sister or whatever to further rub salt in Chloe stans’ wounds. 

Is the show even gonna tackle the angst that would arise from Mayor Andre discovering his beloved wife had an affair?

Or Chloe discovering her much-loved mother is in fact a cheat?

What about coping with the SHOCK revelation that she... GASP... has a long-lost sister?

Forget it. All that rich potential for human emotions sounds B O R I N G.

Don’t forget that if there’s a major event in this show that doesn’t include the words ‘Love Square’, the makers just don’t care.

Let’s cut straight to a giant golden Zoe (who now looks like a giant golden Chloe) trying to smoosh her now much smaller sister...

While Chloe pushes Marinette and her parents towards the beast to save herself. 

Because of course she does.

Never misses a trick to make Chloe look bad, does Thomas.

It’s a skill you can tell he’s very proud of.

Anyway, back to Zoe...

Despite my harsh words above, I harbor no ill-will towards you.

Your design is decent and you seem like a stand-up gal.

But I hate to say this...

You shouldn’t exist.

It was completely unnecessary from a storytelling POV to create a sibling for Chloe, and your mere presence will diminish the show.

I can say this with utmost confidence after looking at the situation from every conceivable angle...

Without even needing to watch your eps or know why you were created.

(Although, I have a pretty good idea)

Some people might say WELL GIVE HER A CHANCE!!!!

Hmm... no.

Everything the show needs to be successful with Chloe’s character...

It’s already right there.

She does not need a secret sibling

She does not require a sweeter counterpart

And she definitely DOESN’T need Thomas constantly bashing her to impressionable fans online like she’s the Antichrist personified!

Seriously dude, if you hate her so much why bother creating her?

And if you hate her so much... why spend so long talking about her?

Despite his repeated denials, I think something another user here said is very true...

She DOES live ‘rent free’ in his head.

It sickens him that, despite his best efforts, she still has so many fans.

Not to worry, Thomas.

From what I see, there are still plenty of sycophants who agree with everything you say (even if they actually don’t)

After all, it’s enough for some to get a reply from the ‘great man’ himself

Why jeopardize that by trying to engage with him in a meaningful debate?

Especially when we know how handsy he is with the ‘block’ button.

Anyway, this went on for about a thousand more words than I meant it to.

I guess me and Thomas have just ONE thing in common (Thank God)

This is a topic which we both feel VERY strongly about.

The differently is of course, I have far less power in the process, and preach to a much smaller audience.

Still, I won’t let that stop me ranting away like a loon.

Hey, if it’s good enough for him... ;)

[meltwonu]

22. “Mine.”

48. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

56. “You have no idea how much i want you.”

notes; INCUBUS!WONWOO, YALL WE R FINALLY HERE BABY, possessive!wonwoo, choking, degradation, name calling, god imagine silver haired wonwoo with black horns protruding from his skull in a dark grey suit with glasses whew thats my kink, like dapper but make it h0rny, OR NOW THAT THE 24H MV CAME OUT ITS TIME TO IMAGINE WONWOO IN THAT BLACK AND RED OUTFIT WITH THE CROPPED TOP BABYYYYY🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴ALSO this is just a LITTLE longer than what i let go without a cut so the rest is under the cut!(its bc its wonu lbr) 😩💕 Thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

You giggle against Wonwoo’s skin, lips ghosting across the column of his neck. Wonwoo growls as his hands circle your wrists, pinning you against the hallway to your bedroom. His eyes gleam a dark burgundy, lips pressed into a smirk when you mewl. “Am I? What’s so alluring to you when I’m pissed off?” You can’t help but giggle again when he slots a leg between your own; immediately grinding down onto his thigh.

“Maybe I just like when you’re rough with me.”

Wonwoo is unshy about being an incubus; lips curved into a devilish smile when he raises your arms above your head and uses his energy to keep them pinned there. “Oh? So what was all that with Chan? Your ‘lil cunt can’t get enough cock so you have to fuck two incubus? You’re such a cock hungry ‘lil slut, aren’t you?”

Your lips part in a quiet moan when Wonwoo’s hands travel down your dress-clad body; lifting the material higher and higher until it bunches around your waist. “Who says I fucked him? Maybe I just think he’s kinda cute~ Or maybe I just like talkin’ to him ‘cause I know it pisses you off.” You bite your tongue when his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, tearing the material and sliding it from your body as he tosses it onto the floor.

“Oh, sweetheart, I could sense you from a mile away. Your panties were already soaking just sitting next to him. Don’t lie to me.”

“Maybe I was thinkin’ about how you’d punish me…” You trail off.

Wonwoo undoes the zipper and button of his slacks; well aware of the way your eyes immediately travel down to watch when he wraps a hand around his hard cock. “Oh? And what did I do to you? What did I do to get those panties of yours so fuckin’ wet in that imagination of yours?”

You can’t help but gulp, watching as he smears the precum down his shaft. The veins in his hand tense when he tightens his grip; feeding off of the arousal that floods your body. “I--I--”

“You what? Use your words.”

“I--you--you have no idea how much I want you…” You whisper; pussy clenching around emptiness as Wonwoo continues to jerk himself off.  

“Hmm... do you?” 

Whining, you grind down onto his thigh; lip quivering when he tenses the muscles in his leg. “God, yes, I want you so much, I don’t think you fuckin’ understand...” You lick your dry lips, already imagining his cock inside of you.

“Believe me, I know how much you want me. You’re soaking through my slacks, sweetheart.” His voice is laced with cockiness, eyes glinting with mischief when they meet your needy stare. “But you want to be punished, don’t you? I’m being kind and letting you choose how I do so. So start talking.”

A shiver runs up your spine when Wonwoo’s free hand starts traveling up your torso; fingertips dancing across the exposed skin of your clavicle. “I--I want w-whatever you want, W--Wonwoo…” You mumble; the words getting caught in your throat when he places a gentle grip on the column of your neck. He presses down on the sides only slightly; a warning of what’s to come. 

“Yeah? So if I made you choke on my cock ‘til you cried and didn’t let you cum, that’d be okay?” There’s a pause in his words, a small scoff leaving his lips when your eyes meet. “Yeah right, you’d probably cum just from me cumming down your throat, huh?” He lets go of your neck, snaking his hand back down to your waist.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought and you can’t help the wetness that grows on Wonwoo’s slacks when you grind down onto his thigh again. “God, pl--please, please I’ll do anything! I promise, just-- god, please fuck me!” You sob, tugging on the translucent restraints keeping your arms pinned above your head.

Wonwoo grins, unwrapping his hand from around his cock. “Fuck, you’re so cute when you’re a desperate ‘lil slut for me. All you have to do is promise me you won’t go fuckin’ other incubus, got it? You’re mine. Mine.” There’s a growl added for emphasis as you nod feverishly.

“I promise!”

He moves fast, lifting your body into his strong hold as he wraps your legs around his waist. The shaft of his cock rests against your soaking folds and you can’t help but squirm. “Fuck, please, please, I need your cock inside me, Wonwoo!” You cry; delirium already settling in with each passing second.

“Okay, since you’ve decided to be so polite all of a sudden.” Wonwoo grins, leaning away enough to position his cock at your entrance. He meets no resistance when he bottoms out in a single thrust; your warm and wet walls sucking him in when he starts a quick pace.

“God, yes! Fuck, fuck---me! Harder! Harder!”

Your words turn into a jumbled mess, legs pushing Wonwoo forward and closer to yourself with each thrust. His hands settle on your waist, nails digging into the material of your dress as he obliges. The head of his cock taps your cervix and you let out a silent scream, begging him for more. “God, look at you. Fuckin’ insatiable.” He licks his lips, lifting a hand from your waist as he slithers it up to your neck again.

“Takin’ all my cock like a good girl. How many times do you wanna cum tonight?”

You clench around his cock at the promise of more orgasms; the tension in your body already ready to snap. “I--ah, hah, f-fuck, as many as you want! Fuckin’ make me cry just--I need to cum, p-please!” You whine.

The grip on your neck tightens more and more by the second; Wonwoo’s red eyes and black horns only a blur to your teary eyes.

“Then cum, slut.”

Wonwoo’s pace doubles in an instant; his deep and wicked chuckles all you can hear when you cum hard. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight!” He groans as your walls flutter around him. The grip on your neck loosens just as your orgasms crests and you feel your entire body tense as he continues to fuck you through it.

Wonwoo slows down his pace ever so slightly to let you catch your breath once he feels your body start to relax in his hold.

It takes you a second to come down from your high; the lightheadedness still making your body buzz with adrenaline. “Fuh--fuck, Wonwoo…” You whine. The incubus grins, watching as your hazy eyes try to focus on him.

“Don’t get tired on me yet, sweetheart.” His voice is eerily sweet when he speaks, eyes glimmering with mischief.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in a bed; silk sheets between your fingertips as you stare up at a dark ceiling. The confusion paints your features when you sit up, completely stripped of the dress you were wearing earlier.

You hear Wonwoo’s deep chuckles, eyes peering up at him when he comes into view in his dirtied slacks and undone silk shirt. “I figured… It’s going to be a long night for you so why don’t we have a little audience, hmm?”

The sound of shoes on hardwood have you turning your head, throat dry when you see who walks into the unfamiliar room.

“Oh, baby. You know I don’t like being played with either~ I don’t like that you used me to get ‘ol Wonwoo-hyung mad~” The grin on Chan’s face is sickeningly sweet; his own silk shirt undone and mussed when he sits on the opposite end of the large bed.

“I--I---”

“Now, now. He’s only here to watch you take your punishment, sweetheart.” Wonwoo rounds the bed, sitting down next to your blushing form. He tilts your head up, lips ghosting against your own before he smirks; crimson pools meeting your lust filled eyes.

“We agreed that it wasn’t very kind of you to use him as your pawn, y’know? Thought maybe he should be reimbursed for his troubles. However, I suggest you behave or else we might need some viewer participation, hmm?”

[uweiy]

The Mark/Ouwen Sickfic no one asked for pt. 4

(aka Not an Exact Science on ao3)

pt. 1/pt.2/pt. 3

"I kissed Ouwen." Mark tells Hsuan Yu over coffee.

Hsuan Yu is still mixing his own cup, facing away from Mark

"Hmm."

"And it was nice. Really really nice." Mark adds.

"That's great Mark."

Mark simply observes, and catches the exact moment his words arrive at Hsuan Yu's brain.

"Wait. Waaaaaaiiiiiit."

Hsuan turns his upper body towards Mark.

"Dai Ouwen ? You– ?"

"Mh mmhh."

A beat.

"Huh. I guess that makes sense."

Mark frowns.

"What do you mean it makes sense ?? Nothing makes sense."

Hsuan Yu looks at him like he's trying to figure out exactly what Mark is missing.

Mark had hoped Hsuan Yu could enlighten him, but clearly he hadn't understood the depth of the situation, so Mark was not the one missing something.

"He is a great person." Huan Yu simply says.

"Right." Whatever Mark had planned to say, that he has to agree with first. "He's always so cool and calm and dependable. And he tries to pretend like he's not nice but he's really nice. Let me tell you, he has such a soft side to him, I have never seen him refuse anyone anything."

He thinks a bit.

"I don't want him to get taken advantage of because of that. Like what happened with his ex ya know ?'

Huan Yu just nods, a sly smile making its way into his face "Mmhmh." Mark doesn't like it.

"What."

Hsuan Yu settles on the counter, bringing his face closer to Mark's so as to look at him straight into the eyes. His gaze makes Mark uncomfortable and he shifts in his seat.

"What."

"You. Like. him." Hsuan Yu enunciates.

"Ayyy ?? No way." Mark frowns, retreating proportionately to Hsuan Yu's forward movement.

"Seriously." Hsuan Yu starts counting on his fingers.

"1. You want his attention. All the time. Seriously I never see you around as much as when he is here. 2. You want to take care of him. You just said so." He adds when Mark opens his mouth to protest.

"3. You get jealous."

"Jealous ?? I don't get jealous."

"Imagine someone else asks him out. You would be totally fine with it ?"

"Of course." Mark shrugs. "As long as it's not an asshole like his ex. But hey Ouwen would still hang out with me right ? And he has to find someone that makes him eat his vitamins. Oh and did I mention, not an asshole like his ex ? But good men are hard to find... Actually maybe he shouldn't date, it's safer that way."

He nods at his own wise words.

Hsuan Yu looks at him in awe but also like he's questioning what the fuck he's seeing. He gestures with his hands.

"Okay but suppose he does. Would you be totally okay with him kissing someone else ?"

Mark tries to picture it. Ouwen kissing someone, that is not him.

"They shouldn't do it in front of me.' he says finally

"Why ?"

"I don't like it."

"Why ?"

"Because... Because..." He struggles to find an explanation. Two men kissing is weird right ?? Definitely weird.

Why then was it that he didn't mind one bit when it was him kissing Ouwen. Why was it that he had wanted to keep doing it ? Why was it that when he tried to picture Ouwen with someone he very badly wanted the person at Ouwen's side to be hi–'

"Oh."

Huan Yu snaps his fingers at Mark "Aaaaand there we have it."

He gets up and clasps Mark on the shoulder as he walks past him." You'll have to excuse me, I have some clients to take care of. But–" He says into Mark's ear "–seems like you, my friend, have some thinking to do."

And leaves a pretty dumbfounded Mark behind.

___

Ouwen sits up slowly, looking away from Mark so as to conceal his eyes which are frantically darting from side to side.

What. What. What what what–

For all the thinking that he does. He hadn't envisioned that. At all.

His heart is now beating way too loudly and he feels a complicated mix of emotions rising, among which something that resembles hope.

It could be a joke. But Mark is not that cruel.

The only option left was that Mark truly believed that–

I think I like you.

Ah.

Ouwen remembers then, that it's Mark. and suddenly his stomach weighs a thousand pounds.

"Ouwen ?" Mark says from behind him.

Ouwen tries gather his thoughts. He turns towards Mark and smiles sadly.

"I'm flattered." Ouwen hears himself say, and it sounds wrong, even to his own ears. "but maybe you would like to think about it again ?

"It's something that is quite common among our clients, actually. It's easy to have a passing infatuation with someone that is both new in your life, and you consistently encounter. However, objectively, we are very different people. You can understand how this doesn't give a solid basis for a relationship. Ehm. If that is. What you want."

Briefly lost himself there. And pulls himself together. He can do this. It's his job after all.

"A few weeks ago you were I quote 'obsessed' with Joanna. And before Joanna, it was someone else. One of the reasons for that could be that you are still unsure of searching what you are looking for in a partner ?

"In any case, you're probably going to change your mind in a few weeks–"

Because if when he changes his mind, Mark would be able to just go on with his life while Ouwen's heart would shatter in a million pieces and he'd be left alone to pick them up. Ouwen would like to spare himself some trauma thank you very much and just wait for whatever Mark thinks he feels to go away.

"–And I don't want it to be awkward between us when you do." That would suck, for lack of a better term.

Mark listens with wide eyes a and slightly bewildered expression as he seems to take in what Ouwen is saying.

So Ouwen adds, as gently as he possibly can, even if he doesn't really want to, even if it twists some part of his gut

"You're. You are special to me so, we can just pretend this never happened. I would really like for us to keep being friends."

Mark's brow furrow lightly and he lowers his eyes. Ouwen thinks he might have gotten through to him when Marks looks up at Ouwen again.

"You didn't say you didn't like me."

Ouwen huffs in frustration. "Did you hear what I just said ? That's not what it is about. And whether I like you or not has only little to do with the situation."

"Of course it does ! If you don't like me... I learned my lesson you know. There's nothing I can do."

He looks somewhat like a kicked puppy and Ouwen has to resist the overwhelming urge to comfort him.

"But if you do like me at least a little, I'll definitely make you give me a chance."

Suddenly Ouwen doesn't know what to say anymore.

"How sure are you ?" He asks before he can stop himself.

"Eh ?"

"That you like me. You said you 'think' you like me. I can't... I can't.... if you're not sure."

"Oh come on." Mark whines. "It just sounded less pathetic than 'I really like you and I really don't know what I'm going to do if you don't like me back'. Do you know how hard that was to say by the way ? 'Flattered' this, 'Passing infatuation' that. I know I date easily, but I haven't told anyone that before."

Ouwen does feel a bit like an asshole then.

"You haven't ?"

"Except maybe one girl in like second grade but that doesn't count. Anyway, haven't said it to anyone, y'know, seriously. I–" He pauses. blushes. Then seems to come to a decision.

"I had never fallen for a man before so maybe that's why I didn't– Or maybe I had but y'know... couldn't accept it or whatever. Hsuan Yu helped and yeah...well. In any case, I'm glad it's you." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Whatever, what I'm trying to say is... Yeah I'm sure."

Even though Ouwen has had a bit of trouble following the jumble of Mark's sentences, he said the latter part with a certainty that leaves Ouwen speechless.

Mark presses. "So, just tell me. Do you like me or not ?"

Ouwen can tell for sure that it's sincere. Mark likes him, and he's fine with it. Even comfortable with it, in a way Ouwen would not have thought possible.

"Dai Ouwen. If you're asking, that means you do right ? I think you do."

Finally, it bursts out of Ouwen.

"Yes. Yes okay ?? I like you. "

"Really ??"

"I just said so didn't I." Ouwen sighs. "You can stop asking now." Mark laid his heart open on the table there. Ouwen figures the least he can do is be honest.

Mark exhales

"Oh thank god."

And kisses him. He withdraws pretty quickly.

It's not much of a kiss, compared to the one they've shared before. Just a brief press of lips, as if to reassure himself, to make it tangible. Ouwen's stomach still does a backflip.

"We can figure out the rest together, right ?"

Mark sounds hopeful and bit cautious and when has Ouwen ever been able to refuse him anything ?

"Okay."

He must be crazy. This makes no sense. This is not safe, unpredictable and definitely not a match that their company would have suggested. He's not sure he wants to know what their compatibility tests would say but frankly, in that precise moment, he doesn't care.

"I really, really want to kiss you again right now." Mark says, still looking a bit dazed. He didn't move out of Ouwen's space, hovering inches away from Ouwen's lips.

Ouwen half heartedly tries to push him away

"I'm still sick."

Mark barely seems to register it.

"Eh. At worst I'll take a sick leave too." He answers absent mindedly before he moves forward and just like last time they instantly click– and Ouwen's mind goes blank. His fingers curl on Mark's biceps.

Mark pushes further into him until he has him lying on the couch, and all further protests –and reservations and doubts Ouwen might have had– just scatter away.

Maybe this is not such a terrible decision afterall.

___

"Mark" Ouwen hums against Mark's clavicle, as they are both comfortably sprawled on the couch, one of Mark's hands running up and down Ouwen's back.

"Mmh ?"

"Thank you."

"Eh ? What for ?"

"Just... For being there. And for the soup."

"Ah, it's nothing."

Mark thinks for a bit "You know I didn't do it just so would agree to date me right ? I just wanted you to get well."

"I know, I know." Ouwen quickly assures him. Mark really just is that kind of person. He probably would have done the same for like, Hsuan Yu. "Do you have the recipe ?"

"Oh... You know it's just... chicken... Some onions... Whatever, making soup is not an exact science. If it's nice that's what counts right ?"

Ouwen blinks. He might be stretching but somehow Mark's words hit a deeper topic than just... soup.

Ouwen smiles, feeling a lot lighter. "Who knows. Maybe you're right."

Mark looks at him quizzically.

"That is one uncharacteristic answer? Anyway, Just ask me when you want some I'll make another one for you."

"Wow. You really just winged it."

"Yep."

Mark is silent for a few seconds. Then he says, quietly.

"It is what I want, by the way."

"What ?"

"A relationship."

Ouwen props his chin up and smiles. His cheeks will hurt if he keeps smiling like this but he can't help it.

"Okay."

Then after a few seconds. "Still. Give me a recipe for the soup. What if we break up ?"

"Dai Ouwen. You finally agreed to be with me and you're talking about a break up already ?" Ouwen hears how whiny Mark's voice is and can't help but chuckle. Messing with Mark is guaranteed to work.

Ouwen nuzzles against Mark's neck again. "Mhh. You never know."

Marks hand is still stroking his back.

"Nonsense. Just go to sleep."

Ouwen does.

___

Previous/Epilogue

A.N : IDK why writing this was so hard. I tried to finish and wrap up nicely all the insecurities that came up in previous parts and such... And maybe it makes more sense with the little changes I made/I added on ao3, though I tried to make it so it tied nicely with the versions here as well. And for some reason Mark and Ouwen's inner voices are really hard to find for me. Anyway, there will be a teeny tiny epilogue :)

I'll upload it on ao3 tomorrow –since I haven't caught up there yet– so I hope it won't seem as long there...

[leviathan-dee]

Okay how about a drabble where Vergil motivates his female s/o who is struggling to do her assignments? Can be sfw or nsfw depending on the suitability of the topic and I may or may not having this motivation problem 😂

Aii!! I’m so sorry this took so long 😓 Tbh, I saw nsfw and took this as an opportunity to get my simp train going. So here goes, a lil bit of...

°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓮 °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.·

Motivational Lessons

Vergil x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Word Count: 1,613

Fumbling on an assignment that was due in less than a week was admittedly not how you wanted to spend your days off. You were surrounded by countless closed study books, dried out pens from their disuse, and an empty word document, a cursor blinking quizzically at your inactivity. It’s been almost three agonizing hours since you began your search for a drop of motivation. Alas, no such luck. Even the cup of tea that your partner brewed at the beginning of your session remained unmoved, the condensation on the mug dripping down to pool onto the blank papers.

You sighed, inadvertently drawing Vergil’s attention.

“You are troubled.” Without lifting his gaze from his beloved hardcover of poetry, he spoke, the comment blending between lines of a question and a statement. You sighed once more, carding your fingers through your hair.

“What gave you that idea?” Your slight burst of annoyance felt like whacking the hornet’s nest, however Vergil’s reply was more gentle and soft spoken than before.

“The lack of movement for the duration of your coursework. What gives, my sweet?”

“I just can’t get into the mindset. I think I’m too stressed with all that is going on.”

Snapping his book shut, he uncrossed his legs and tilted forward, directing his attention now completely to you. The pose he assumed was akin to a cat, ready to pounce on its prey. Perhaps you were imagining it, but the sudden mischievous glint in his eyes unnerved you just as much as his predatory pose.

“Perhaps you are in need of encouragement?”

“I’ll bite. What do you have in mind?” You swallowed thickly, anticipation building like a steady flow of water. Only time will tell if you would regret your words.

“Let me demonstrate.” Moving with a feline grace, his arm swayed in the opposite direction, guiding you to stand from your seat. Once you obeyed, he propped himself upon the cushioned surface, his stern expression morphing into a minuscule smirk.

“Sit,” he presented you his lap by patting his thigh, “you are tense. A prime reason as to why you simply cannot get anything done.”

With an incredulous expression, you gawked at the sudden change in his demeanour. Admittedly, it was a bad idea to disobey the devil, knowing your previous experiences containing punishments of the euphoric kind. You planted yourself comfortably upon his leg, feeling his arms securely tighten around your waist. His palms were warmer than usual. In fact, you noted that his gloves were off. Strange...

“Now focus on your assignment. Need I encourage you, I know exactly what to do.” The growl that rolled off his tongue caused a shiver to travel through every fiber of your being. A wickedness entirely indescribable churned deep within his gaze. It wasn’t often you experienced that; Vergil knew to reserve this part of him for special occasions.

Apparently, this was one such occasion.

The cursor continued blinking, it’s manner now seeming wary. You stared at it, wondering what words might flow from your already exhausted mind. There were so many jumbled thoughts. Some from the carnal closeness between you and your beloved, and very few were of the coursework itself. Vergil propped his chin upon your shoulder, breathing down your neck. Was this a warning? Or encouragement?

“Need I promote your thoughts? Or is your mind elsewhere?” As you expected, it was neither. This was a promise; an invitation. For both of your benefits.

You could feel a smirk ghost his lips, as his hands continued to rest on your waist possessively, their grip tightening to an almost uncomfortable pressure. Unsure of whether to begin your coursework, or to let fate take its course, your fingertips started their sluggish crawl across the keyboard. Vergil seemed to ease his grip, instead shifting to your right thigh, resting his warm palm on top of the plump surface. This made you suck in a breath between your teeth which only Vergil would notice. No matter how much you wanted him to simply have his way, this was a good opportunity to finish what you’ve started studying-wise.

… 

After two paragraphs of constant erasing and rewriting, you sighed, irked at your own scattered mind. Evidently, Vergil watched your entire tirade at the keyboard. It was almost as interesting as a tumultuous nineteenth century drama. Every few words, he hummed in approval, reading and checking your text. However, your gusto seemed to slow to an almost complete stop. You could feel his mischievous smile once again grace his visage.

Bringing his palm up to cradle your chin from behind, he directed your vision behind you, his own smoldering gaze melting you from the inside.

“Is that it? You’re giving up, my sweet?”

“No, I just need a break-” You were cut off by a feathery caress at your loin, promoting whatever feverish thoughts that waited on the cusp of your mind. Instinctually, you leaned into the touch like a starved animal. Vergil seemed to enjoy your reaction, knowing full well that only his fingertips can encourage such a visceral response from your body.

“A break, you say? Let me assist you,” he purred in your ear, heated breath only intensifying the sensation of his digits running circles achingly close to your clothed core.

You couldn’t withhold your lewd mewls, letting them cascade out of your lungs as Vergil’s teeth began sinking into your bare shoulder, followed by promises of ecstasy in the form of trailing kisses upon your skin. His hands teased at your waistband, slipping beneath the fabric to find his goal. Your own fingers searched for purchase, not to lose yourself entirely to this hedonism. They found their way to the blue devil’s hair behind you, and encouraged his tongue to trek along the flesh of your shoulder.

A maelstrom of pleasure spread through you as Vergil’s hand began lavishing your folds with longing strokes. The sheer playful movements of his digits were teasing, daring you to release your tension all over them, there and then. It was almost shameful how easily he could elicit such a reaction from your body. How he forced these noises from you, the pressures of assignment life fading away into nothingness.

Approving hums vibrated within Vergil’s chest, resonating against your back, provoking the throbs deep in your core. You moaned in turn, giving him the greenlight to plunge into your heat with two digits. Admittedly, you were now certain this was his plan all along, usually wearing fingerless gloves even outside of combat. Besides, he seemed too eager to get you in this state.

That sneaky devil.

Nevertheless, that motion was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Your walls tensed instinctually around his fingers as they shamelessly pumped in and out. Vergil knew exactly the spot to caress, seeing how your frame arched itself to accommodate his own. God, he loved seeing you in this state; At his mercy.

“Y/N. You will finish this assignment, as I will finish you. Is that clear?” The sovereign tone with which Vergil spoke alone could send you spiralling over the edge. You nodded eagerly, desperate to release the tide of pleasure rocking against your swollen walls.

Observing your lethargic demeanor, and your eyes glazed over with depravity, the devil decided to send you into paroxysms of pleasure by focusing two hands on your heat. With one swirling your bud, and the other continuing its rhythmic movements inside you, his smug visage in the now blacked out screensaver of the monitor observed your near undone state.

“How are you feeling? Relaxed yet? Encouraged to do your studies? I won’t have you failing. Not in this state.” To your surprise, Vergil's smirk never faltered. His tongue continued to play upon your shoulder and neck as you encouraged his efforts with your incoherent cries.

“Vergil-'' Your fragmented moans, and the bucking of your hips against his working hands only prompted him to intensify his tirade. He left you kicking helplessly, trying to find an object to perch against with your legs, and swing your hips in any direction if only to lessen the overstimulation. Blank papers landed to the ground, and pencils and pens alike tumbled from the force of your pleasured kicks against the furniture. Even the untouched tea spluttered all over the desk, staining amber upon the surface of the paper beneath. But you didn't have a care in the world; right now your focus was on the endless waves of gratification you were bestowed upon by the blue devil.

All of your previous worries seemed to melt away. Even the stress of creeping deadlines and sleepless nights dissipated into a mere sliver of a memory. Your rippling muscles beneath Vergil's hands eased, his own limbs holding you in place as you fell limp from exhaustion on his lap. With a tender trail of kisses along your neck, and the last one behind your ear, he hummed and coiled his arms around your waist to pull you into a warm hug. You hummed in return.

"Was that encouragement enough? Or do I have to resume this motivational lesson?" Vergil purred in your ear, a hint of playfulness meandering in his voice.

"Hmm, I am still feeling a bit tense." You rolled your shoulders to accentuate your 'discomfort', expecting Vergil to react accordingly. And react he did, his immense strength scooping you into his arms from behind, your body weighing a feather on his frame. With proud steps and a teasing expression, he marched towards your bedroom, a saccharine smirk dancing on his lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that. You'll be writing books once I'm done with you, my sweet."

[nitewrighter]

Short fic of Genji stressing out about what to get Angela for Christmas?

“Blenders are romantic, right?” Genji looked up from a store window to Tracer.

“Uh…” Tracer glanced off and sipped her latte.

“It’s healthy—“ Genji tried to explain, “She’s a doctor—it fits. Right?”

Tracer just gave him a confused, pitying look.

“…not romantic,” he sighed, letting his shoulders slump and his head drop.

“Nnno. Not romantic,” said Tracer.

It was one of those seaside winter days that is somehow both bright and cloudy. A jumble of Christmas market-like stalls for tourists fleeing colder northern weather crowded the sidewalks, and a few shopkeepers were poking at their window displays, putting up bows and baubles to draw the eye. Tracer had arms full of bags and boxes, and Genji had only two bags hanging on one elbow. They were both in civvies, Tracer in a baggy cardigan with elbow patches and skinny jeans, and Genji in a neon windbreaker and charcoal joggers. The glow of Genji’s green visor seemed to be visibly dimmed with his own exhaustion.

“I don’t want to overthink it,” Genji said firmly as he and Tracer walked down the street.

“Uh huh,” said Tracer, sipping her overly sweet latte next to him.

“But it’s our first winter moved in together,” said Genji.

“Right.”

“And I want to get Angela something she’ll actually use...”

“Of course.”

“But something that she’ll like,” said Genji.

“Obviously,” said Tracer.

“Something pretty.”

“Jewelry?”

“No, we make too much fun of those holiday jewelry commercials,” muttered Genji, “And I don’t want to get her something office or work related--I mean, that’s not romantic.”

“Mm,” Tracer sipped her latte.

“But she still should use it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But I don’t want to overthink it,” said Genji.

Tracer didn’t really have the heart to tell him that that was exactly what he was doing.

“Genji,” Tracer started gently, “Did she tell you she had anything in mind?”

“She said she couldn’t think of anything and then she said, ‘Oh but I’ll be happy with whatever you give me, Genji,’” Genji huffed.

“Well that’s good!” Tracer said brightly.

“No it’s not,” said Genji, pressing his fingertips to his temples, “She knows she can get me some dumb Tokusatsu thing and I’d love it, but I have no idea what to get her!”

“Oh come on, Genji, you two spent years staying up into the wee hours of the morning talking! You can’t be at that much of a loss!”

“Well we’d mostly talk about work and other--” Genji seemed to catch himself, “Um...”

“...talk shit about the rest of the team?” Tracer guessed with an arched eyebrow.

“No--!” Genji answered on reflex before rubbing the back of his neck, “Well... sometimes.”

Tracer snorted before glancing off. “All right then. Just think-- what does she like to do in her spare time?”

“She reads a lot,” Genji said thoughtfully, “But it’s like... she reads too much for me to know what kind of book to get her, if that makes sense? What if she already read it? Or what if she read a bad review of it? Or what if she read something about the author so she doesn’t want to read it? I don’t read enough to know what book to get her.”

Tracer sighed. “You really are devoted to making this harder for yourself than you have to.”

“I am not!” said Genji. 

“Y’know what I think?”

“What?”

“If this is your first holiday moved in together, you should get something cozy! Homey, don’t you think?”

“Cozy and homey...” Genji repeated the word then seemed to think for a few seconds, “...A blender?”

Tracer slapped her forehead. “Why are you so hung up on the blender!?”

“I feel like we need a blender!” Genji said helplessly. 

“Well get a blender but don’t make the blender the Christmas gift! For heaven’s sake, think!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m thinking! I’m thinking!” said Genji. He was quiet for a long time. “We both spent so long traveling, and after all my time with Zenyatta and the monks...” he trailed off then suddenly perked up, “I have to go,” he said, stopping his pace.

“What?” said Tracer but Genji was already running off back in the direction of the watchpoint.

“I know what I should get her! Thank you, Tracer!” his voice carried on the air in his wake and Tracer huffed and shook her head, before perking up as Genji suddenly came sprinting back and skidding to a halt in front of her again.

“…I just realized I need a pilot, “ he said breathlessly.

“You need a pilot?” said Tracer, tilting her head.

“You think Emily might want something from Nepal?”

The slightest smile tugged at Tracer’s mouth.

——

“...so you’re borrowing the Orca---for what?” Jack Morrison was leaning against the holo-map in Winston’s lab with his arms folded.

“A patrol,” said Tracer and Genji at the same time. 

“It has been a while since we checked in with our contacts with the Shambali” Winston mused. 

“Too long!” said Genji with an odd amount of earnestness in his voice.

“Entirely too long,” said Tracer, “Someone really ought to check on them.”

“Someone they know,” said Genji, with an airy gesture, “Just to make sure everything’s all right.”

“No news isn’t always good news!” added Tracer.

“Uh...huh...” Jack’s voice trailed off. 

“We can get some intel--” said Genji.

“See where we can help out!” Tracer added brightly.

“Well.. diplomacy was an important aspect of the old Overwatch, and with so little activity from Talon these past few weeks, a fact-gathering mission could help us get our bearings...” Winston said thoughtfully.

“Mm-hmm!” grunted Tracer as both she and Genji nodded eagerly. 

“We can send Doctor Ziegler as the mission’s medic in case--” Jack started.

“No!” Genji and Tracer said on reflex both a little too loudly before Genji quickly cleared his throat. 

“Er--Obviously Zenyatta would send the best message of solidarity with the Shambali,” said Genji.

Jacks frown pulled at his scars but Winston rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“You make a good point...” said Winston, “All right then. You have my permission to take the Orca to Nepal.”

“A very wise ruling, Commander Winston!” said Tracer saluting.

“We won’t let you down!” said Genji, clenching his fist in determination before they both ran off.

Jack watched as the door closed behind them after they left. “...you realize they’re both full of shit and taking the Orca for a joyride, right?”

“Oh obviously,” said WInston, turning his attention back to the holo-map.

“Just checking,” said Jack.

----

It was drizzling on Christmas morning on the Watchpoint. Both Genji and Mercy were comfortably sitting on the floor, in their pajamas, Mercy’s hair up in a messy bun, leaning against the coffee table where their dinky little rosemary bonsai valiantly strained under the weight of a single ornament as Genji pulled the wrapping paper off of a box and lifted up the lid.

“Woah...” a short laugh fell out of Genji, “Really?”

“Is it the right one?” said Mercy, tucking her hair back.

“They haven’t made these in 20 years!” said Genji, pulling the asymmetrical game console out of its box, “How did you get a real FujitaCast One?”

“Well, I found a broken one in one of the pawn shops around here, and then I remembered you talking about playing the first Vivi’s Adventure on it, so I grabbed it, and I had to get D.Va’s help in identifying which components needed replacing and we just...spun them up in the 3D printer here!”

“Angela--” Genji wanted to squeeze the little plastic console close but was handling it very gingerly, “This is incredible. I--” he huffed, “I can’t remember the last time anyone put this much effort into a gift for me.” 

“...it really wasn’t all that much trouble--really, just D.Va helping out and looking up some components online--” Mercy was blushing, “I just... thought it might be nice to have something aside from just the holoscreen to warm this place up. I warn you, though, I’m absolutely terrible at video games.”

“Psh. I doubt that. You’ve got surgeon hands.”

“Oh you’ll see,” said Mercy with a smirk, adjusting her glasses.

“Thank you, Angela,” said Genji, gently setting the console on the coffee table. He reached over and grabbed a flatter box and held it out to her, “I, um... got you this.”

Mercy gave the box a tentative shake, already aware of the sliding sound of cloth on cardboard. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with you and Tracer’s mysterious three day trip into Nepal, would it?” she said, giving a sly smile to Genji.

“That was a very legitimate mission, I’ll have you know,” said Genji, folding his arms, “I milked a yak and everything.”

Mercy snorted. “Where would the world be without Overwatch and its yak-milking Cyborgs?”

“Chaos,” said Genji with mock gravitas, “Tragedy.”

“Oh definitely,” said Mercy, opening the present. Genji couldn’t help but smile at the way she only pulled at the folds and ends of the paper, trying to take the wrapping off as intactly as possible before sliding the box out. Her brow crinkled with some concentration as she lifted the lid off of the box before her eyes widened. She pulled a bright golden yellow cloth from the box, let it hang over one hand and traced her fingers over it with the other. “Soft...” she said quietly, before looking up at Genji, “Shambali?”

“Yes,” said Genji.

“...it’s beautiful,” said Mercy, drawing more of it from the box and letting it drape over her forearms as she looked at it more fully. Voluminous sleeves fell over her arm as she spread the cloth out, “Oh--It’s a robe!” she said, her face lighting up.

“I do keep saying you should relax more,” said Genji, with a slight smirk, folding his arms. 

Mercy snorted and rolled her eyes before pressing the cloth to the side of her face, “It’s so soft,” she said, her voice half-muffled into the cloth, before her eyes opened. She blinked a few times and pulled the cloth away slightly, peering closer, “This pattern...” she started, squinting a little.

“It’s Omnicode,” said Genji, scooching closer, “Well--the textile, the words are woven into the pattern. So every cloth woven is unique and has its own message. It’s sort of like the lines of code from that pre-Crisis movie--you know, the one where they all dress in black and wear sunglasses and do Kung-fu and freeze in mid-air and--” He caught himself and gave a dismissive hand wave, “What I’m saying is,” pointed down a line that was slightly more orange than its surrounding threads. His finger trailed down the line of tiny squarish symbols that would fall over the heart if she were wearing the robe, “That’s your name, see? Angela Ziegler. And this character right here below it doesn’t quite translate to human language, but it means ‘Part of me,’” he pointed to other lines of Omnicode on the robe, “And--and a lot of this script here--and--here--and here, is from the letters we were sending each other.” He chuckled a little, “It’s really amazing to watch a Shambali Omnic weaver work--they’re trying to turn it into a sort of tourist thing up at the monastery, like, even if you aren’t interested in the Shambali’s message, you can still appreciate the craft, but being that far up in the Himalayas makes it hard to---” He had to cut himself off as Mercy braced one hand on his shoulder and cupped the other at his jawline to land a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth. He turned his head only slightly to course-correct and return the kiss more fully, his hand sliding up the back of her neck to weave into her hair. He could feel her breath puff with a slight laugh against his scars as she broke away, her arms still draped around him. 

“Um--” A short laugh escaped her, “Thank you--It’s--It’s beautiful, Genji,” she said, readjusting her glasses, “It’s really beautiful. And the letters--it’s... I love it.” 

“Look, I just called in a few favors and milked a couple yaks,” said Genji, with faux-humility, “I’m not the one who 3-D printed components for a 20-year-old game console.”

Mercy snickered and leaned on him amongst the wrinkled wrapping paper, “I’m just glad I didn’t panic and just grab that blender,” she said with a happy sigh. 

Genji perked up slightly.

“What?” said Mercy, looking up at him.

Genji just snickered and leaned his head on hers, “Nothing,” he said, smiling, “I love you.”

Mercy snorted. “I love you too,” she said, pressing the soft fabric of the robe against herself as she leaned right back on him.

[veryvincible]

Why isn’t Tony married in comics?

My answer isn’t going to be super interesting, since there aren’t any concrete in-universe explanations and in-universe explanations are the Fun explanations, but.

There are some in-universe reasons we could potentially point to try and explain what’s up with him; I mean, he wants to be married, right? He keeps trying to marry people, at least. But his two engagements didn’t work out terribly well (I reiterate-- because Iron Man) and the handful of other significant others he clearly thought he might spend the rest of his life with usually ended up with less than stellar fates. On top of that, he’s got Iron Man and his jobs with his company, and overall I think he’s just taking his time with it and dating around again. You could probably also argue that some recent-ish events have really taken a toll on his sense of self, and finding the self worth to even expect a “yes” to a proposal might be rough for him. But, you know, that’s all speculation and I’m sure it doesn’t actually have anything to do with why he’s not getting married-- it’s mostly just fanon word jumble for the sake of pretending like Tony’s a cohesive character.

If Iron Man writers wanted a real Tony-like throwback, they could have him actually stick with someone (I’m looking at you, inexplicable Jan break-up) and propose again, regardless of whether or not they’re actually planning on getting him married.

Which leads me to out-of-universe reasons. There are characters who are married, and this is a big aspect of their characters. And there are characters who aren’t married, and this is a big aspect of their characters (not necessarily in some “I’m going to stay single!” intentional way, but in a way where they’re clearly characters that Marvel likes to throw in different relationships, and being married would impede this). Sure, we’ve got a lot of characters who don’t fit this dichotomy perfectly, but you can kind of tell where they’re supposed to be with regards to relationship status at this point.

And marriage changes things. Families change things, too-- not that marriage would have to lead to children, nor that Tony couldn’t have children without a marriage, but looking at Tony and how he’s spoken about marriage in the past, it’s pretty clear that he’d probably want the wife (or, y’know, spouse) and the 2.5 kids and all. And that would really, really transform his narrative-- not necessarily in a bad way, but in a very Definite, unavoidable way-- and I feel like Marvel just doesn’t... want to do that right now. Or maybe ever. Like, there’s a reason he’s never gotten there despite multiple long term relationships and multiple engagements, and a gut feeling tells me it’s because (at least right now), he’s just not a character that Marvel wants to tie to someone, especially since we don’t seem to be in the age of Tony picking up a bunch of well fleshed-out, quirky side characters that the audience can grow to know and love. We’re dealing with something that feels a bit more in-the-family (ew, sorry for the wording) where we have all of these heroes, many of which are single, and. Marvel wants to... make... the heroes kiss. Which isn’t inherently bad or anything, but if you’re keeping up with Iron Man right now, you can probably see how it’s getting into some weird (read: toxic, awful) territory.

Though, there is one, uh... I don’t know the word for it. There is one interesting tidbit of info we got from History of the Marvel Universe Vol. 2 #6 (and maybe some recent solicits, but I have not taken a peek at solicits in a hot minute), which is basically just foreshadowing (if foreshadowing can be that on the nose) future storylines. 

You can take a peek at all the little boxes and images yourself (they’re kinda neat c:), but here:

This issue was released in 2019, and they’re going in order from little prediction to little prediction. So, this “wedding” should be coming soon-ish.

Not that I think that’s the most relevant, because they’re obviously not going to say that Tony Stark and Emma Frost are staying together-- it’s definitely not going to be a marriage of love, and it’s definitely not going to be super long-term, unless Marvel wants fans of both Tony Stark and Emma Frost to be extremely confused and extremely bothered for, like, ever... since they’re implied to have fucked for a short while, they have since stopped fucking, and also Tony is not at his best in X-Men crossovers, so. Hmm. Hmmmm.

So, I don’t know if we can call this a marriage marriage (or if they’re even going to be able to get to the point of marriage, or if whatever conflict they’re coming up with is going to totally dissolve the need for it before they do), but. Y’know. It’s relevant.

[soundsaboutrighttumblr]

WBL: Fighting Mr. 2nd ficlet

 title: I am trying.   

                     Summary:            

Retelling of the ending scene of episode 1 of Fighting Mr.2nd. From the very angry and confused perspective of Shu Yi.

A jumble of emotions and anger and more, really.

Beware.

        “What can I do to get you back to me? Just tell me, whatever it is.”

It’s pinpricks of heat under the collar of Shu Yi’s shirt, his own nails digging into the heel of his hand.

How dare he sound worn out. And soft. And honest. When that’s exactly what he can’t be.

How dare he sound upright and righteous, when he has no right at all.

If those eyes made something in Shu Yi stutter for a second, he quickly finds his way back again, into the rut and well-used tracks of thoughts, thoughts that his mind has kept shouting, ever since he showed his face again.

Only you. Yeah, right. I’ve seen your honest. I’ve seen your forever.

He’s been living, livid inside that space between throat and sternum, chest burned up by those acid scars of trapped anger. He pushes it out, through the jut of his chin and shoulders, glare in his eyes.

He can’t feel his legs, but it’s two strides and the door is closed, two strides back and it’s easy, it’s crucial, it’s dangerous to push from right there, where it’s churning, but the sound when the backs of thighs hit the desk, when something topples over? It’s satisfying.

“Give it to me.”  Another shove. The words in his own ears drive a new high of adrenaline through his veins.

 Your place cannot be next to me. You want to know your place?

His own movements are hazy through the rush of power, and he doesn’t feel anything underneath his hands; just watches fingers drag and catch on skin, sees those lips before him tremble, trying to speak but failing. Good.

“You said whatever it takes.”

 You wouldn’t dare, would you.

He can see how it startles, irritates him, that Shu Yi is dragging his noble intentions down into the gutter like this again. Good.

 Who do you think you are? What do you want from me? Just what do you think you have a right to?

How he squirms, trying to get away, and so it is the only way it can go now, and Shu Yi tightens the noose:

“Let’s do it then. Are you scared?”

 You already went to your knees for me earlier. My shoe laces, really? How about you go down there again?

He is about to say it, opening his mouth, when:

“Okay.”

A breath of a sound, but steady.

And there’s no ground underneath Shu Yi’s feet any more.

Lips suddenly lean in and it’s all Shu Yi can do to reel back, his mind nothing but an instinct, a shout of: ‘You don’t get to kiss me.'

A sudden drop, and his chest falls silent. The ghost of an echo, then it's gone. No. Hollow. And the fast loss of it all rings in Shu Yi’s ears.  

 What did you say?

He’s not numb, but he feels empty, and dizzy with the shock of it. He reaches out for something, and there’s the constant dull ache in his stomach, the one he is almost used to by now.

Shi De is there, unbuttoning his shirt.

And that glimpse of bared throat is enough.

His chest is still, muted, but something that sits deeper responds.

To that naked skin, those naked eyes.

Something that rushes down to his toes and makes him aware how he stands; and sways. Aware of his weight, and yet: the weightless drift up feeling at the center of his guts.

And it must be just a memory, a route his synapses know to take, but it cannot be real now.

Another button.

And it isn’t fair. Because this is not the detached and spiteful sense of being turned on that Shu Yi expected to come along with this.

Instead it’s the kind that has an anchor in the root of his spine. Sending out flares along his nerves. The one he had himself convinced was a trick of the mind that his memories played.

The one of not just wanting that skin, but the gift behind it.

And it goes all through him, and it cannot be.

He knows this response, remembers it although it’s been years.

But it isn’t possible now. Because he lies.

“I can do anything for you.”

 Because I don’t believe him.

I don’t.

                             Notes:  

Hmm. I'll post this like it is, since I got side-tackled by that new preview, and am all up in Shide feels right now. Written in my lunch break again, after my way to work 'blessed' me with that line, about Shi De going to his knees again. Since I didn't want to write an AU scene, it found his place here, decidedly less naughty than it's potential.

Shu Yi's resort here really is a sort of cruelty, that I hope will pass soon, because it hurts him just as much. Still lessons to learn. It keeps him blind to all that happens below those first few inches under the surface, where his thoughts and anger lives. Below, even below the stomach ache, to where he has rarely access, but when he has, it's probably with and through Shi De: the root of his feelings and self. I just found the idea interesting, where a person's chi, their energy circles, and Shu Yi's definitely all in his upper chest, so that he forgets to feel his connection to the ground, and his center. Mhm... jut thoughts and ideas, put into a vague jumble of sentences, I know. But yeah. I love them. and that scene still kills me. Until next week will kill me deader even, because... yeah.

[steamracha]

{warnings: dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, brat!reader, slight abo au, drinking, implied fwb!hyunjin, jealousy, mentioned punishments, teasing, begging, pet names, dirty talk, slight degradation}

[10:37pm] the taste of vodka mixed with grape juice and some sort of soft drink is fizzy and deceptively sweet as it travels down your throat, burning your tongue and setting your nerves alight, one by one. you swallow with a low groan, humming at the bittersweet alcohol.

the buzz is addictive, making you crave more and more of it running through your veins, but you push yourself off the counter to lightly fall to your tiptoes. you're conscious of the swell of sweaty, drunk bodies and the booming bass crashing through the living room of the frat house, so you quickly opt to make a beeline for the stairway.

your cup's pretty full and some of the pink liquid sloshes over the rim as you list a little, barely managing to keep yourself upright; okay, so maybe you're pretty drunk too. you down the rest of it anyway–go big or go home, right? besides, you only have one goal for tonight, and a little liquid courage never hurt anyone.

just as you're about to take a shaky step out of the hallway, a familiar voice interrupts your train of jumbled thoughts.

"hey, angel," hwang hyunjin smiles from his perch on the table, making you spin around to face him. he's dressed in a low-necked black t-shirt and tantalisingly tight skinny jeans. you gulp as you eye him, weary and achingly curious. "looking for someone?"

you take a second to compose yourself before smirking back, matching his gaze. it's smouldering with a kind of hunger which makes you feel exposed to the chilly campus air, skin tingling with a longing for…something. "oh hi, what's up, hyunjin? and to answer your question, i actually am looking for someone. you remember mark lee, right? captain of the baseball team from high school?"

your smile gets wider at the way his eyes darken at your indifferent words, low growl escaping the back of his throat unconsciously. typical alpha, you think, snickering internally.

"anyway, markie wanted my help with something so i'd better go check it out, whatever it is. it was nice seeing you here though, hyunjin, we should meet up sometime!"

you're drunk, but not naive. just as predicted, as you turn and are about to step away with a careless wave of the hand, you find yourself stumbling backwards into the hard, waiting chest of hyunjin.

his fingers are locked in a vice like grip around your wrist, which of course makes you picture a whole number of scenarios where he's pushing your intertwined hands into the bed sheets as he thrusts into you, bruising your skin with his hold. you swallow again, trying to stop yourself from shivering.

"actually, why don't we catch up now, hmm?" his voice is dripping with honey-like sweetness as he leans down to mouth softly under your earlobe before giving it a quick tug between his teeth, making you gasp at your proximity. "surely dear markie can wait a little?" a roll of addictive vibrations travel through his chest as he purrs into your ear, free hand circling your hip bone knowingly. there's something undeniably attractive in the way hyunjin spits out the name of your friend, making it apparent the loathing he holds for the boy you're gushing about right in front of him.

he's hot, but you're no amateur. after all, you've learned from the best.

"i really did promise mark i'd help him with that, uh, problem of his and i don't want him to worry. sorry, hyunjin, but unless there's something more urgent, something more–well, something worth my time, i have to get going. who knows where he could be…?" your thoughtful pout as you look right in his eyes is enough to drive him crazy.

he pulls the two of you roughly towards the hall table, his fingers getting impossibly tight around your wrist. he really does growl this time as you continue to feign ignorance. this is fun. you can see the jealousy and anger in his eyes when he turns you around swiftly by the waist to have you standing between his thighs.

"seriously?" he raises an eyebrow, dropping the pretences, "after the stunt you pulled the other week, i don't think you're in any position to play games, wouldn't you agree?"

"i have no idea what you're talking about, hyunjinnie." you grin, stepping closer to his obvious bulge and pressing your lower half to him. he lets out a quiet hiss at the contact, but doesn't make any attempt to push you away from his body.

"oh, sweetheart, i think i can help remind you." he wastes no time in pressing his knee between your legs, pushing your body towards the wall and pinning your wrists above your head. a soft moan escapes your parted lips at this sudden contact of rough fabric to your core, making hyunjin snicker. he leans down again to press wet, open mouthed kisses down your neck, the vibrations from his whispered words causing you to shudder.

"i can smell your arousal from a mile away, baby, but you just had to be a little brat and lie to me. as a punishment…should i spank you?" your eyes widen and a new wave of arousal floods through your senses. of course, hyunjin catches the heady, thick scent in the air and tuts in mock disapproval. "no, you'd enjoy that too much. after all, you're just a pathetic slut, aren't you? you riled me up on purpose so i would punish you."

his covered knee is rubbing up and down your soaking core through your underwear, the movements barely hidden under your sheer skirt. the light, delicate friction is making you more and more desperate for something, anything, but you try your hardest to not buck your hips up or whimper pathetically. "maybe, i should just fuck your thighs and not even let you come, huh? it's not like you deserve my cock." your cheeks flare with embarrassment as you let out a high whine of protest, the noise muffled thanks to the blasting music from the next room.

"aww, baby, it's almost like you want us to get caught. you'd like that, wouldn't you, if someone walked past and saw you in this position?" he comes back up to crash his glossy, swollen lips against your own, letting out a low groan inside your mouth and making your toes curl. "such a pretty, desperate whore for me."

hyunjin doesn't pause his ministrations for a single moment, continuing to place bruising marks against your collarbones and occasionally resurfacing to nip and lick at your abused mouth.

pulling away for air, he hovers his lips over yours, allowing you to see just how affected he is by all of your muffled moans and the sight of your flushed cheeks. you move forward to catch his lips with yours, but he only indulges you for a second before tugging you towards the staircase. looking back at you from the first step, he smiles, a sweet, innocent thing that leaves you shivering with excitement.

"you'll be begging for me before we're done here."

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Victor Valentine Card story “Trauma from that day”

Translation of Victor Valentine’s 3* ‘’Escape The Prison’’ card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Gast: Woah, door’s open

Gast: Doctor. Got some time to spare?

Victor: Gast….? What is it?

Gast: My bad for suddenly droppin’ by. Marion had told me to go get your signature for this document and…

Gast: !!

Victor: Sign the document? I see… Marion is busy himself, and since he couldn’t do it he left up to you?

Victor: Perhaps it’s a more personal reason…. he simply finds it repulsive to see my face and made you do it, I wonder which one is correct?

Gast: ………..

Victor: ? What's the matter, you’re slowly backing away….

Victor: I can see that the muscles on your face are stiffening too, are you nervous? Is there some reason for being frightened?

Gast: Th-that… th-tha-that…..

Victor: Th-tha-that?

Gast: That chair, I kinda recognize it but…. C-c-could that be a….

Victor: Chair….?

Victor: Ah. That, it’s a device to enter the inner mental state of another person.

Gast: I-inner mental state? What the hell, ain’t an electric chair then. That’s a relief.....

Victor: I see. Come to think of it, you did cooperate with me for an experiment involving the electric chair before. 

Victor: Signs of being frightened started to show because you recalled that time. Fufu...

Gast: Gh, naturally I’m scared. That experience is without a doubt traumatizin’ for anyone

Victor: Oh my, my apologies for that.

Victor: To keep it short, this trauma is a psychological trauma….. If using that device, it might be able to remove the scars that incurred your mind. Would you like to try it out?

Gast: N-no! ‘m good, no need to!

Gast: This trauma ain’t somethin’ that severe…. Even if I’m thinking to get rid of it, I don’t wanna dare to sit down in a chair here

Victor: Is that so, that’s unfortunate.

Victor: A sign, was it. I’ll write it now, could you please wait for a moment?

Gast: Yeah, I’ll wait ‘ere

Gast: …… Y’know, what’s it like to enter someone else’s mental state?

Victor: You do want to give it an attempt?

Gast: No….. Just wonderin’ what it’d be like 

Gast: Thinking ‘bout it made me realize that you made somethin’ amazing for real… Thought that peeking into someone’s mind was somethin’ impossible

Victor: Fufu. In a place as New Million where substance is cultivating, “Absolutely impossible” is out of the question.

Victor: I haven’t attempted it myself yet however, everyone has their own world inside themselves… to have a look into someone’s mind, it would be a completely different world in there, wouldn’t it. 

Victor: There ought to be a new discovery each time too. What you didn’t want to know, and what you wanted to know, each one would truly be a world of its own.

Gast: Guess so, huh…. Kinda have the feeling that I’d wanna peek but, doin’ it out of curiosity could end up gettin’ yourself hurt. 

Victor: Whose mental state would you like to have a look of, for example?

Gast: Eeh, who…? Hmm….

Gast: If it’s wanting to know what’s goin’ on in someone’s mind, it’s gotta be my team members then. Especially Ren since he ain’t the type to talk much, peekin’ in would have its benefits

Gast: Marion’s mood sours quickly, so knowin’ what landmines there are beforehand would be easy. …..Maybe it’d be pretty handy?

Victor: Indeed. The way of conduct of these two often differ with their true feeling, this device would be plenty of use for that.

Gast: And of course Doc’s also included within the team

Victor: Me too?

Gast: Like, think I’m most interested into seein’ yours? 

Gast: It’s obvious that the brains of researchers are different but...  I’d like to try to see what kind of world you’d be livin’ in

Victor: Hmm….. Comparing myself to Marion, I believe I do say what’s on my mind.

Victor: I suppose that the world of one’s mental state would be a fictional landscape, so to say. If anything abstract requires an interpretation, it perhaps could be unintelligible for a researcher.

Gast: I don’ really get Marion yet but, wonder if Ren’s might be smeared with cats everywhere? 

Gast: Ah, I was only wonderin’ about it but…. what the hell would happen if Jack and Jacqueline were to use this device?

Victor: The AI robots, hm…. I hadn’t considered it yet but, that’s very interesting. 

Victor: Common sense tells us that robots “don’t have” their own mind, however in the case of these robots what would it be…?

Victor: Suppose I’ll tell Nova about it and give it an attempt once the device has been completed… Hmm, if there’s a mental state present, just what kind of world would it be? 

Gast: Ahahah, it was really just somethin’ randomly on my mind though… 

Gast: Anyway, why you’re makin’ this device in the first place? Is it also just outta curiosity? 

Victor: No, I don’t have the time to go this far for just that. It’s one of the jobs the research division has undertaken. 

Victor: It’s being made to be used in criminal investigations, as commissioned by those concerned with the police.

Gast: P-police….?

Victor: Oh my, your face turned pale again?

Gast: Ah, it’s ‘cuz… It’s embarrasin’ but, in the past I’d be dealin’ with ‘em... I mean, it’s kinda, there’s a time where I became sensitive to that word?

Victor: Ah, could that time be during your famed days of delinquency? 

Victor: Being recognized to that extent, I’m sure your experiences of being taken care of by the police must’ve been reasonable.

Gast: U-um, reasonable….?

Victor: Oh?

Gast: What, Doctor?

Victor: I’d like to have a look into your mental state too.

Gast: Eh, me? I don’ think I got anything interesting in particular to show though...

Gast: If you’re saying that you talk more than Marion and Ren, then I’m confident that I’m more of an open book than Doc

Gast: I mean, I’m always runnin’ my mouth when it ain’t needed…. I’m sure whatever’s in my mind has to be predictably boring 

Victor: Is that so?

Gast: Yup. I’m just as plain as one can get…. wait, sayin’ that myself is makin’ me sad….

Victor: It is said that living ordinarily is rather extremely difficult. 

Gast: ?

Victor: Well, I am doubtful of “plain humans” truly existing. 

Victor: If they were to exist, for example, and I were to see their mind, I’m certain there would be a world beyond my own imagination. 

Victor: As you have mentioned, without such a device you wouldn’t be able to even think to look into someone’s mind.

Gast: Oooh….?

Gast: Doc, whenever you talk it’s difficult and long winded, it jumbles up my brain

Victor: Is that so. Then, to quickly find out if you are an ordinary person… 

Victor: How about trying out the device after all?

Gast: !! That’s why I’m sayin’ to spare me…!