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gavisuntiedboot · 4 months ago

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We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing. I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

#gavisuntiedboot #gub we cant be friends #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez one shot #pedri fanfic #footballer #football rpf #football fanfic

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drakaripykiros130ac · 8 months ago

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With all the “accidents” that the show-runners have invented in favor of the Greens, I think it would be pretty fair to have them done for the Blacks too.

Like for example, Daemon is angry about how much Rhaenyra suffers after the loss of Lucerys. He vents about it to his former confidant, Mysaria, who “misunderstands” Daemon’s intentions and arranges B&C. And then, when Daemon finds out, he goes 😱, then expresses how much he didn’t want this, oh no!

But of course, since only the Greens can have three “accidental” murders done in cold blood, there isn’t much room for bad fanfic writing in the Blacks’ favor, so they’ll have to go with canon.

I am betting Condal will forget about Daemon and have Rhaenyra herself arrange B&C with Mysaria, because of course, a grieving mother has nothing better to do than start discussions about vengeance with none other than her husband’s former mistress. Makes perfect sense.

And above all, I am 100% sure that the showrunners will abandon the idea that Aegon throws a feast in celebration of Lucerys’ death, so that he can retain the title of “victim daddy” who lost a child he didn’t give a damn about while he was alive.

And of course, him calling out for war in retribution for his son’s death is perfectly alright, as opposed to Rhaenyra’s desire to get justice for the murder of her own child, because Rhaenyra is a woman. She is not allowed to do anything that makes her seem less than perfect.

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stargazestories · 8 months ago

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OWN MY MIND (M)

Paring: modelJeonghanx model reader

Category: one shot

Warnings: SMUT minors DONOT INTERACT!

Hardcore smut? Oral (f receiving) degradation, insults? Degradation kink, heel kink,Sadomasochism(light),sadism(light), squirting, hair pulling

A/n: If I’m honest I’m not sure if the warnings labels 100% fall into those categories, but I rather be safe. Please enjoy still 🙏🏻

Jeonghan knocked on the door to the luxurious apartment, waiting after the 3rd knock, his hands fidgeting but quickly stopped when he saw the door open to reveal y/n who wore a confused look for a brief moment.

“Yoon” was all she said.

“We need to talk”

She had thought about it for a moment but gave in and let him walk inside.

“So, What do I owe the displeasure of having you here?” She asked as she guided him to her large living room and motioned him to sit across from her. Something about her tone, the fact that she could care less that THE Yoon Jeonghan, was there to talk to her, made him question his status.

“I wanted to come and…apologize” he was barely able to say that last part.

“Apologize?” She repeated with a hint of amusement, one that Jeonghan noticed.

“Yes…I apologize for my behavior at the photo shoot, I had not intention of offending you” his apology sounded sincere but she shook her head.

“You aren’t sorry” was so cold in her response, it began to send chills down his spine.

“I-i am” his confidence faltering.

“If you are really sorry, come here and beg for my forgiveness” her lips curled to a devilish smirk.

Jeonghan was taken back by her request. In the time he had in this industry, he never once apologized to anyone. The fact she was asking this of him with such assertiveness, he wasn’t sure what to do. A portion of him wanted to tell her off, but the other half was telling him to follow whatever she says.

“Then leave”

“N-no” he got up and walked to her, head down. The distance was short but it felt like an eternity. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a dark desire. He just stood in front of her, not completely sure how to beg.

“Kneel to me”

“what?” He snapped his head at her

“I didn’t stutter”

He gulped and kneeled down to her, in front of her feet that were adorned by black stiletto heels. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to look at her again, every time he looked at her, it felt like a trance.

“I’m waiting” she taunted him, she reveled at the sight of Jeonghan, the golden boy of the modeling industry, here at her feet. He had made a piss poor impression on y/n, with being late to their first photoshoot, then trying to use his charm to get away with it, but she quickly proved to be a challenge for him.

Y/n was known for her fierce attitude and commanding presence, one that was not to be crossed with. Unfortunately for Jeonghan, his tardiness had already put him in her bad graces. Things only got worse as Jeonghan attempted to charm the beautiful woman into forgiving him but she was having none of it, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

Things progressed for the worse for Jeonghan, as during the photo shoot, y/n took charge. She practically barked orders at him and criticized his poses, Jeonghan, used to being the center of attention, practically resented her for putting him in his place. He had offered to take her to dinner as an apology, but y/n rejected it as well. It’s the very reason he’s right here, in front of her, on his knees, he was begging for forgiveness.

“I’m….sorry” he said softly, the confidence from before completely gone. She leaned in and grabbed his collar tight, pulling him in rough, his eyes widened as she brought him in, inches away from her face. “What are you sorry for?”, she teased. Her face was so close he could feel her breath on his lips and her warm vanilla perfume filled his nose, something about it was intoxicating to him.

His eyes finally met hers as his breathing became more shallow, “I-I’m sorry for being late”. Noticing the tension that was building up, y/n decided to take things further.

Y/n pulled his collar back in once more and pushed the man down onto her polished carpet, standing over him as he watched her every move,“and why are you sorry?hm?”

The flustered look on his face, along with the lingering tension was making this more fun for her. As for Jeonghan, he felt his body heat rise, his chest rising and falling quickly as he answered again “because I-I didn’t mean to upset you” she laughed, this was the first time he heard her laugh or have any emotion besides disdain toward him. She put her heel on his chest as she pushed him down while keeping her grin, “do you think I should accept your apology?”, the pressure she applied caused him to let out a groan. Her eyes wandered down his body and noticed not only his breathing but something growing down south.

“Don’t make me ask twice” she pressed down again, harder this time, seeing it had an effect on his body. “Yes! please!” He yelled as he closed his eyes as he let out a breathy moan.

“Please what? Use your words” she asked as she removed the pressure off his chest and slowly brought her heel down south of his body. She had noticed the growing tent between his legs and couldn’t help herself to lightly graze his hard on with her heel. Jeonghan was dazed, his body was reacting on its own but he didn’t even attempt to fight it. The way she commanded him, demanded him to answer her, the pain she was inflicting on him, made his head spin. “Please forgive me!” He whined with his soft voice.

She had stopped rubbing at his crotch which made him whimper for more, “so pathetic” she lifted her skirt, and exposed her lace black panties in front of him making Jeonghan gawk at her, she was so god damn beautiful and the vision of ecstasy. She rolled her thong down and off of her legs, exposing her glistening pussy to him.

“You don’t deserve my apology, right?”

“I don’t” he didn’t hesitate to answer. Y/n shoved her lace thong in his mouth as she continued to humiliate him by laughing at him, “learning fast” she praised him, if you can call it that , “I’ll forgive you….if you can make me cum” Jeonghan nodded fast, wanting to be forgiven so bad by her.

She walked back to her spot on the sofa chair, giving Jeonghan the pleasure of seeing the sight of her ass before sitting on the armchair and using her finger to gesture to him to come over. Jeonghan wasted no time but was stopped half way “ah!….come to me on your hands and knees” she demanded. Jeonghan nodded and slowly made his way to y/n, stopping right in front of her feet.

Y/n lifted his face and removed her panties from his mouth, softly grazing his lips with her thumb and getting a good look at his hazy eyes. Jeonghan licked his lips earning another smile from her as she leaned back, getting comfortable, she extended one leg out to him while hoisting the other on the edge of the sofa to expose her seeping core at him. Jeonghan lightly held her extended leg, first kissing the side of the black patent heel, trailing his kisses upwards slowly, letting every single kiss linger, one after the other, earring soft hums from y/n who was taking in the sight of him, the neediness, and the desire he displayed just for her.

His trail of kisses made their way up to her inner thigh till he made his way to her core, where he took a moment to admire how it was soaked, wanting nothing more than just a taste. Using the flat side of his tongue, he gave her cunt a long lick flicking her clit with his tongue, making y/n let out a breathy moan. Jeonghan kissed her clit again before giving it his full attention, licking it and suckin on it, making y/n mule in pleasure. Y/n took her hand and ran it through his hair, which by now was sticking to his face due to his sweat from the heat of it all, gripping it to push him further in forcefully.

Jeonghan was practically suffocating in her soaking pussy, drinking her up desperately, the vibrations of his moans against her made her bite her lip as the waves of pleasure flooded her body. “Fuck!-“ she gripped his hair harder making him cry of pleasure as he continued to ravage her. “Eat me out like the pathetic man you are, ah fuck” this turned Jeonghan on, the way she degraded him, demanding and commanding him to make her climax.

Smothering his face all over her cunt, Jeonghan sucked on her pussy, making no attempt to catch his breath until she came. With every lick and suck y/n arched her back and pushed Jeonghan's face deeper in, feeling her climax close. Jeonghan stuck his tongue right in her and swirled it around her walls, face fully covered in her sweet juices, feeling her legs quiver at the action. Y/n let out a final groan of pleasure, her hips pushed forward to him as she squirted all over his face as her climax washed over her body, riding the ecstasy.

Jeonghan pulled back, face and hair covered in her, completely strung out in pleasure of having her cum all over him.

Y/n caught her breath as she pushed herself forward to meet his face again, slowly eyeing him, his breathing was labored and the way his half lid eyes were fully entranced by her, he looked perfect this way. She licked his lips, getting a taste “you're forgiven”.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #seventeensmut #yoon jeonghan #seventeen x y/n #jeonghan fic #seventeen smut #svt smut #svtsmut #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #yoon jeonghan smut

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tenpintsofsundrop · 1 year ago

Text

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can't live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven't watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there's no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it's not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to 'appeal' to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife' to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name'); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader's true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader's body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer's fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don't really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it's good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn't 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day.

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy.

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride.

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted.

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect.

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained.

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.”

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged.

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked.

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.”

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?”

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.”

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials.

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat.

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.”

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer.

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look.

“Rings?” She questioned.

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained.

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.”

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.”

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror.

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.”

You nodded at this.

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome.

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath.

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel.

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless.

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day.

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?”

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.”

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently.

…

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car.

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently.

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch.

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction.

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.”

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand.

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track.

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote.

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it.

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you.

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.”

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do.

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet.

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives.

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.”

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with.

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.”

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed.

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man.

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch.

You were just playing the part.

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.)

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation.

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass.

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.”

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego.

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.”

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return.

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’.

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception.

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.”

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie.

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented.

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it.

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him.

“Has it been a godly union?”

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage.

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer.

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out.

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse.

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted.

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse.

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.”

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.”

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth.

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again.

…

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell.

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid.

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening.

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay.

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response.

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant.

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun.

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it.

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him.

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again.

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt.

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide.

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse.

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly.

Which ‘one’?

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information?

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time.

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed.

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie.

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.”

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun.

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream.

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time.

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now.

Spencer didn’t take the bait.

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-”

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek.

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek.

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly.

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head.

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’.

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.”

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards.

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you.

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly.

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead.

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan.

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened.

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled.

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man.

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him.

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued.

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.”

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides.

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that.

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you.

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you.

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you.

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him.

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies.

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all.

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that.

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury.

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God.

You couldn’t hold yourself back then.

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what.

He would protect you because you belonged to him.

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better.

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort.

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it.

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort.

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test.

…

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes.

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’.

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind.

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking.

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words.

You rolled your eyes sharply at this.

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle.

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.)

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned.

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,”

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart.

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.”

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay.

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly.

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind.

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way.

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat.

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.”

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you.

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s).

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real.

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked.

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title.

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it.

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too.

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued.

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right.

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.”

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself.

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right?

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus.

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked.

“Of course.” Reid confirmed.

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.”

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely.

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked.

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like?

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.”

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared.

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said.

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin.

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.”

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement.

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.”

Of course.

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.”

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day.

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you.

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children.

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life.

…

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids.

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then.

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better.

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?”

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim.

“Yes, we do.” He nodded.

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak.

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well.

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced.

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust.

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.”

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die.

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him.

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.”

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room.

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek.

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about.

“Come on.” Christopher grunted.

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you.

…

Your plan worked flawlessly.

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels.

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear.

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-”

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along.

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around.

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you.

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you.

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her.

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay.

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back.

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame.

It was the church.

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!”

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm.

“L/N!”

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer.

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down.

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face.

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.”

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply.

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you.

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear.

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then:

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him.

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go.

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?”

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you.

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever.

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake.

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.”

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’.

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.”

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced.

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm.

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss.

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed.

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self.

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder.

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea.

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it.

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best.

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: okay, I do have to admit, the ending kind of sucks imo (like the last few paragraphs) because I highly resisted the urge to end this with 'baby making' smut where y/n is like if 'you want kids for real, then we can have kids', and then Spencer just goes nuts. because I did like the more cheesy/romantic love confession ending, and I was getting way too tired to write smut for this. idk if I should do that 'x amount of reblogs for part 2' thing or if I'm just happy with this being a standalone oneshot?? idk. if people ask for a part 2, then I will set a reblog goal for it. and I will work on a part 2 for it after Lesson Two is posted.

#sundrop writes #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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kikyan · 2 years ago

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Yandere Diasomnia Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark content up ahead!! Yandere headcanons means yandere content y’all! Mentions of abuse and violent acts either towards the reader or the character!! Mental instability, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, obsession, emotional whiplash, etc. (Don’t think I’m missing anything but if I am, please do let me know!) This is your TW please proceed with caution!!

ALSO FYI!! A minor spoiler warning, it’s during the last paragraph of Lilias Headcanons! It’s slightly mentioned in book 6 but emphasized in book 7!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

As always, banner made by the lovely bestie @herestrish thank you for making all of these, you’re literally the best I love you so much!

Malleus Draconia

THIS IS MY DORM. THIS IS MY SHIT RIGHT HERE Y’ALL! I was and STILL am rooting for them!! Clearly, I have a bias and saved the BEST for last. Anyways, moving on! Malleus as a yandere is so popular because of how he’s literally pursuing the MC when TWST is not an otome game. Breaking the boundaries of the game fr. Not to mention, he’s so mysterious in the first chapters until you discover more and find out he’s quite sad :(( sorry babes </3. The main traits I see in him are possessive, clingy, obsessive, and overprotective. I will however start off with the main trait and the biggest thing that distinguishes him (book 7 spoilers really enhanced this headcanon), he wants a fairytale-like romance/story.

Malleus is known as one of the (top 5 I wanna say?) wizards in the world of TWST. I’m sure his magic capabilities surpass his teachers so while he has no need to attend the school, I’m sure the main goal was to get him to socialize which he does with the MC. He wants to make friends, he wants to have a relationship with his fellow peers that isn’t the “strongest mage in NRC” or “future king of briar valley”. I honestly think he wants others to see him as Malleus Draconia (mostly Malleus because his last name has power), which will make sense with the rest of these headcanons. When it comes to Malleus, his relationship with his S/O is different than any relationship out there. Think about it, we got to call him Hornton/Tsunotarou because it was a name we picked for him because he did not want to reveal his name. I feel like he had the chance to speak with us because we’re not from this world. We don’t know the rules, the powerful families, and shit, we didn’t even know who Malleus was. Someone could say his name but it wouldn’t affect us because it holds no meaning. So when Malleus found out we didn’t know him, this was his way of testing the waters which I think is really cute. He wanted us to see him as himself, not as the all-powerful malleus and future king.

He’s possessive with his S/O because you’re his friend(hopefully something more soon) and someone who saw him for himself. I think he cherished the nickname we gave him because it’s something from us to him. He’s possessive of us because we’re the only ones he has this important connection with. Sure he has one with Lilia and the others but with us it’s different. Leading me to a tiny headcanon I have that apparently isn’t that uncommon. Nice to know we think alike y’all! I feel like Lilia treated Malleus and Silver differently. I always saw it as Lilia feeling it was his duty to take care of Malleus as opposed to choosing to raise Silver. Malleus was probably raised as the future heir of briar valley, he probably had to attend many boring classes that prepared him for this role while Silver got the fun parent. I feel like Lilia raised Malleus with the intention of him growing to be a leader whereas he raised Silver with the intention of making Silver’s childhood the best it could be. Letting Silver be a child and then slowly bringing in the responsibilities, same with Sebek. So sorry for this analogy but I feel Lilia was the “daddy who was always working and never had time for me” with Malleus while it was different with Silver. Granted he didn’t treat Malleus with malicious intent, it was just that at a glance it was clear to see who got more of the ‘fun parent’. THIS IS ALL A HEADCANON BTW NOT CANON! These are just angsty times with Kikyan! So that being said, this is a very close and personal relationship that Malleus has with just you, so forgive him if he’s a little jealous. Malleus is well aware that it’s not right, but he can’t help but feel like this. He does what he can to prioritize your time, always being there in the evening for a nightly stroll. Sometimes, when he’s brave enough, he’ll try to plan something other than a nightly stroll. Maybe coming into your dorm and talking for a bit, maybe even inviting you to his? Maybe a small picnic at night because why not? Maybe a cup of tea?

While that’s partly a reason why nobody approaches him (and a part that he dislikes), I can see him using his title as a way to intimidate others. When we called him by his nickname in book 5, everyone was stunned. I think Vil even accused him of taking advantage of our ignorance, but when we still called him by that name even when knowing who he really was, he “allowed” it. I already know he was kicking his feet, twirling his hair, and giggling when he left the stage. If you’re with him and standing by his side, nobody would dare approach you nor look at you differently. You have the protection of Malleus Draconia after all, who would even DARE approach? Even if he’s not physically there, his influence makes up for it. Everyone knows you hang out with him and honestly, nobody wants to take that risk. I don’t think you’d lose friends because he still wants you to have friends (maybe even open up his circle too?). However, if it’s just you two I think he could live. This goes in hand with his unique trait, the storybook romance. Think about it, it’s so romantic that even in his cursed world you will always have your lover by your side. Imagine it, just you and him in a castle all alone, just feeding off each other’s company. Who needs the others when it’s just you two?

Obsessive and over-protective. I think they go hand in hand. Malleus would be a gentle lover, the one who wipes your tears away as he softly asks, “why do you weep my child of man” (crying, throwing up, and contemplating he sounds so pretty wtf and this is my writingDFJS). He thinks that you’re made of glass, a porcelain doll (don’t mind me I think I created possible fic ideas I’m carefully jotting all of these down) to be exact. If he looks away for even a second, you’d wither in the air. He’s so obsessed with you and so intrigued with what you do. You’re so lovely, you’re so unique and so precious. You came here from a foreign land and have no knowledge of him and his abilities. No knowledge of this world and its rules, yet suddenly you managed to rescue 6 over-blotted students and befriended so many people. Just how on earth did you do that? You don’t look at him with fear and I’m sure prior to knowing his real name if someone said “Malleus Draconia” you’d probably look confused. You probably wouldn’t have cared (I know I wouldn’t). You’re you, he’s probably head over heels for you. Absolutely smitten! He’s probably somewhere right now plucking flowers, “They love me, They don’t love me” and imagining what your reaction is. He’s probably the one keeping an eye on you, when he’s not busy he’s either taking your time or just nearby watching your peaceful life. Nobody will harm you, not while he’s alive and babes, he’s living for a LONG time.

I added that he was clingy because I feel like he would be. He seeks out your attention and love, honestly, it’s so cute. The storybook romance, it’s unique. It’s something you two have and it’s something that keeps him going. He’s a gentle lover and if you give him attention, he turns to putty in your hands. He would change the time just to have your nightly strolls come faster. He really only has eyes for you, in Book 5 when Vil over blotted, he asked US what happened. He didn’t care for the others, he looked at us and asked us to explain the situation. His eyes are on us and only us. If he’s sad or annoyed, ask him what's wrong and if you place a hand on his or on his cheek to make him look up, it’s over bro. You’ve ignited a fire that cannot be contained. He’s the perfect partner, he listens to you, he does what he can to protect you, he puts YOU above him, and you’ll always have a place with him. HOWEVER, drumroll, please! Do NOT think for a second that he’s willing to let you treat him and this relationship with disrespect. He does not WANT to act out because he does want that fairytale romance, that attraction where you both are content with the other but if he’s pushed he will. I don’t want to say he’d hurt you because he doesn’t want to, but if you fight against this relationship he too will fight. Put your boxing gloves on because it’s about to get real. He’ll understand if you don’t quite accept it at first, but once he shows you the PowerPoint on why you two belong together and why he’s the better option and you’re still not getting it, he may be a bit upset.

Wrapping off these headcanons, he’s a 9/10 on my danger scale and he’s a chain-turned saw on the rope-chain-saw scale. He’ll start off tame, he won’t take too many restrictions and he won’t say it like that. He’ll just say “that area is restricted because of construction or because they have so many dangerous magical items out in the open and it’s a huge risk! This is your room, he read that even when people are together they may need space away from each other (as much as he dislikes that) so you have that. Honestly, he’s super lenient right now that it seems like he doesn’t pose a threat but, keep in mind that he doesn’t like repeating himself. If he says that area is off limits and you’re wandering he’ll worry for your safety but then proceed to tell you off. “I did warn you that it was dangerous, I don’t like repeating myself. Perhaps I need to clip your wings to prevent you from wandering off, as much as I love that curious nature of yours. A joke, I assure you.” Babes. . .I don’t think it’s a joke anymore. Which is why I say chain-turned-saw. While he isn’t too strict on you and genuinely wants that romance between you two, he can turn strict to the point where you may find yourself with a broken limb or a cut-off one but it’s okay because he loves carrying you around! He’s the most powerful wizard (one of them at least) in the world and while he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s not above using that strength to get you to behave. He’s a 9/10 because as much as he loves you and wants those fanfic moments doesn’t mean he’s powerless and that you can get the jump on him. He gives you ONE warning and that’s it before he takes matters into his own hand. He’s been so patient with you, this is the thanks you give him? Fae live for a long time and if putting you to sleep is the only way he can do it, he will. After all, he’ll invade your sweet dreams and turn them into a nightmare if you choose. Another last measure would be branding, he once set Briar Valley ablaze but your skin is such a pretty canvas.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia, my beloved. The love of my life. I love him so much he’s so quirky and his aesthetic? To be honest, I hated neon green, like the highlighter colors. He changed that, the black and magenta is such a great combo. The green on their uniforms and their overall aesthetic. I love Diasomnia, I feel like I’m betraying Heartslabyul because I love Alice in Wonderland, but their styles never called out to me. Regardless, I am biased because I love him so much and I hope I can do justice to his character. The main characteristics that I see him having are manipulative, possessive, and overprotective.

I was tempted to say that he was obsessive, but he and Rook share some qualities where they make it a game to find out about their S/O. He wouldn’t stalk you like prey but instead, he’d create a situation where you reveal that information about yourself to him. I do have plans for a Lilia fic (again bias) but without revealing too much information I’ll get into my personal headcanons of him. I truly think of Lilia fitting the troupe where he was emotionless at first, especially during the war but eventually toward the end came to appreciate life. Something happened to him during the war, that’s my biggest headcanon. It’s not something huge and over the top, but I think this is what caused him to have a change of perspective on life which will significantly change how he sees his S/O.

He has a very quirky personality and he’s definitely unique. I love that about him! In order for this to connect, we need to talk a bit more about his personality. It’s very unique and he enjoys putting smiles on others’ faces. He gets along with the others for the most part and even teases them, especially when he hangs upside down (he's so cute omg I love him). I remember in his normal card Vignette, the one with Trey they were choosing a topic for their paper and Lilia was talking about magical pens and how they went through changes. As Lilia was explaining, Trey assumed it was a joke, and when he casually mentioned “I have the hardest time figuring out what's true and what isn't”, Lilia smiled and went “who knows”. He knows more than he’s letting on but then again, nobody believes him so that’s partially their fault too. When Epel was getting bullied and Lilia saved him, his whole mannerism was that of someone who was trying to fit in with the ‘young folk’. He gave Epel advice on how to take care of himself and mentioned that in a fight, it’s about winning unlike in a sport where you have to adhere to the rules. He’s strange, but he truly means well. This leads me to connect Lilia and his overprotectiveness on his S/O.

Lilia cares for his S/O. Though he doesn’t seem like much, he packs quite the punch that may soon come to understand if they try to take something that’s his. Possessiveness comes into play as well! If someone ever tried to hurt his S/O, they better start preparing their funeral arrangements because it won’t end well. Underestimating Lilia is what leads to their downfall and honestly, these headcanons would sound smoother if I just led with his unique trait. I want to say he mirrors Rook where he will never trust his S/O, but it’s the opposite. It’s US who CAN’T trust him. Well, we can, but we can’t take anything he says without a grain of salt. You may think Lilia is petite and a cute harmless guy, but then suddenly he’s handing out ass-whoopings left and right. You may think Lilia is joking, but his devilish grin might be one of malice as opposed to humor. Again, he cares a lot for you but he’s not above scolding you and treating you like a child, which should get on your nerves. Nobody but him is allowed to tease you but him!

Your safety is his priority, without a doubt. You mean the world to him so again, nobody will mess with you. His possessiveness is something that’s brought by his teasing nature. He may refer to you as ‘his’ and may do it in a teasing nature. He’ll do anything to get a reaction out of you, maybe even call you by some cringe-ass name. “So how’s my little snuggly wuggly piggly wiggly baby pie”. “Lilia, don’t ever call me that please”. Overly cutesy names to tease the fuck out of you. Though it’s embarrassing, he means well. He also prioritizes your time by filling up your schedule, suddenly you’re at the dorm playing online games with him and Idia (though they don’t know that which lowkey stresses me tf out). You’re trying out another dish he makes because Silver and Sebek are beyond horrified to try something else. He’s inviting you to the music club to listen to them play and to give them advice. He might even ask you to help him dye his hair. His relationship with you is so wholesome that it’s almost hard to believe he was once a war general and can scare the shit out of many.

I want to touch on his manipulative side, it’s because of the lack of trust. You think it’s silly old Lilia (emphasis on old) playing games on you. Maybe one day when you promised to hang out with him you had to stay behind for an assignment. Apologizing and here he is, “Oh well, it can’t be helped! Don’t want you to fail now do we?” Thanking him for understanding, you turn to leave only to miss out on his eyes lowering, half-lidded before smiling. That devilish grin that you can’t forget and you can’t read. You can’t read him and that comes to be your downfall. He has the element of surprise, to the point where you’d start being on edge with him (like the leech twins). He may pop out and scare you or he maybe pushes you only to cause you to tumble. He certainly underestimated his strength, are you okay? Spoiler alert, it wasn’t an accident. If you start to ignore him, he’ll get aggressive. Scaring you, causing you to fall, your books to fall to the floor, spilling drinks, etc. He’s so silly and clumsy, must be the age huh? It only gets worse when you confront him, “Hey Lilia, did I do something to make you upset?”

Eyes wide, “Why ever would you say that?” He’s surprised, what brought this on? Of course, he knows, he’s not stupid. He listens to you explain, eyes full of worry, reassuring you that it was only a joke and he never wished for you to feel like that! You believe him because when he looks at you like that he must be telling the truth! This is how it is at first until you start to realize that maybe he’s hiding something else. It gets even worse when his yandere traits start to come through. You could be crying and questioning why, why you? Why does he love you and why does he do what he does? That gentle look, those beautiful eyes are softened and he answers in pure confusion, do what? He acts surprised, are you sure you have the right guy? That doesn’t seem like Lilia does it? Oh well, the cat is out of the bag and while he had fun playing around with you, guess it’s time he gets serious (book 2 serious). His devilish grin is back and instead of it being of a playful nature, he’s hiding some ill intent toward you. His smile that usually would bring one to your face strikes fear, is this all a game to him? When he warns you of the consequences of defying him or escaping, he still has the grin on his face and that friendly tone, but the words he says are a bit frightening. Is he joking with you? Is it worth the risk? Like Rook, you never know if he’s telling the truth so should you risk it? Is it beneficial to stay put as he says and not fight him? Just like Rook, it’s about the thrill of your actions. He sits back and enjoys your reactions and how you handle the little tests he gives you.

His character is hard, I hope you know I struggled for a GOOD while when writing this despite how much I love him. As far as the scaling goes, he’s a 10/10 (dare I say 11?). He has the magic to back it up (well had is more like it) and he’s open to change. Darwin once said that a species' chances of survival are not determined based on strength but rather their ability to adapt. This is Lilia, he’s strong but given the situation, he can adapt to the circumstances. His sweet words are laced with poison and spread doubt inside your mind. He could say the next time you decide to flee it’s off with your legs, but he does his adorable huff, “I don’t think I need to worry about that though, you’re so well-behaved right now.” He seems to be serious, but the last time he threatened that he didn’t do it, so was it a fear tactic? Do you want to risk it? If you do and get caught, I see him approaching you with a hum, a smile on his face as he stares at your pitiful form, apologizing and struggling to speak. He shushes you as if you are a child. Softly petting your hair, giving you false hope that you can talk your way out of this. His hands softly trail to your ankle, you’re panicking but he continues his antics. You know well then to underestimate him, no? I can see Lilia being all three, rope because at some point he does enjoy the taste and thrill. The hunter being hunted is a delicious trope. He could be chain, he’d scold you like a child and take away your favorite toy until you think about what you’ve done. He could be saw, he could be tired of your futile running and while he’s been so nice and caring you’ve really pushed his buttons and if he needs to take away your freedom he’ll do it. Do you want to see someone other than him? Too bad, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Sebek Zigbolt

I’ll be honest, I didn’t like Sebek at first and I lowkey still am not a huge fan, but I still love him. Let’s start at the very beginning, Sebek struggles with some identity issues. He’s very prideful of his fae side, despite being half-human. When I read how much he idolizes his mother but not his father, shit lowkey brought me to tears. I don’t know if his other siblings feel the same way, but his father tries his hardest and he’s a good father, loving, caring, doting, and always makes time for them. I truly believe that Sebek grew up around people shaming his parents, specifically his father and he fell into that hole as well. As a yandere, his traits would be that of overprotective, possessive, and manipulative.

Continuing, Sebek hates humans despite being half one himself. He’s very prideful when it comes to that fae part of him. I know he talks down to them and makes it seem like he’s superior to them because he’s a fae, but deep down he probably knows better than anyone that he’s not all that. I want to curse the people who made him feel like that, they’re nothing but a bunch of gossiping hoes. If his S/O were a human, he would probably have a hard time accepting that. He’d probably hate himself for liking them. As an overprotective yandere, he’d care for his S/O. If you’re a human, everybody knows how fragile you guys are so expect him to do everything but not without belittling you. “You humans are so forgetful, fine I’ll help you find what you need! Just know I’m wasting precious time I could be used to get stronger to protect Malleus, wait don’t go!” He would probably tell you everything he could be doing instead of being here with you, but he dreads the idea of you leaving him. I think Sebek would see his S/O as a stress relief, but not in that way. He’d be like Malleus who thinks you’re the only one who can understand him to some extent but don’t expect any special treatment. He’s very contradicting, “A human like you wouldn’t understand what I mean! W-wait, but what were you saying?”

You’re so fragile, try not to double down and break! You’re only holding him back from his true potential, but don’t think about leaving! He needs to show you how amazing he is! The type who would see you get picked on and save you from them only to say, “who wouldn’t pick on you? I mean look at you! W-wait! Typical humans, won’t thank someone who saved them!” Honestly, if you see him coming your way just turn your ass around. Save yourself the emotional whiplash. This is where his ‘manipulation’ side comes out, he’ll try to get you to depend on him to boost his ego, only to realize you want nothing to do with him. Sure, you’re thankful that he’s there to help but if he’s just going to berate you for being yourself then what's the point? He’ll show signs of weakness that get you to think that he needs you but then proceeds to act the same. It’s not worth it in the long run but if Sebek is struggling, then we should help. Going back to him seeing you as someone who can understand him, this goes hand in hand. At times yes, you understand what Sebek is going through. The need to be the best and somehow stand out, the feeling that he needs to make up for what lacks, that being his other fae side.

Trying to get him to understand that it’s all an external factor that is making him feel that way isn’t helping. He’d shout and say that you nothing, so no point in helping someone who doesn’t want to help. Regardless, he does try to help you or at the very least love you in some twisted way. He cares for you because despite not liking humans, he’ll give credit where credit is due. He thinks you’re very strong but also very stupid. You managed to handle over 5 over-blots which is impressive but the fact that you’re always smack in the middle of them, how reckless! Soon you’ll get the title of “his human”, doesn’t that sound great? Silver would be confused and Lilia would be somewhat content that Sebek is changing for the better! Malleus would probably be content knowing that Sebek isn’t always there and is finally directing his energy somewhere else. While he has the support of his dorm, Sebek would constantly deny his feelings. He does love you, but he hates that he loves you. He tells you he hates you, that you’re going to hold him back, that you’re not worthy but at the same time he can’t stand the idea of you spending time with anyone else.

While his possessiveness isn’t like the others, he tries to make it like a training regiment. He’d push his S/O to be better, to be the better version of themselves. While he loves you, he wants to be proud of the person he’s next to, again emotional whiplash. He’d explain how he’s doing this because you need it! He’ll take over your time and try to mold you into someone whose traits stand out more than their human side. You’re his responsibility and under his care, so he’ll take care of you to the extent of educating you. I think he would isolate you from your friends, after all, they’re a bunch of good-for-nothings who aren’t fit to protect Malleus. So this is what it’s really been about, it’s never been about what Sebek likes but rather being someone who Malleus could approve of. Sebek would not understand you, he’d call you silly humans for harboring such feelings and how you’re so complicated, it’s annoying. Your feelings are so strange, you should be glad that Malleus approves of you. All his hard work is finally paying off!

As far as danger level, he’s a 5/10. He’s not a danger to you at the start, he’s really just annoying. Sebek has some things that he needs to work on but they’re not something he can do on his own. This is why he needs you and as much as you hate the idea or could care less, there is someone about him that guides you to him (or Lilia and Malleus causally threatening you). He could care less about you (or so he says) but as much as he says that, he cares for you deeply to some extent. You’re his support and he doesn’t want you to leave him, to add insult to injury he’s probably delusional and created this friendship/rift with you. On the rope-chain-saw scale, he’d be a chain leaning to saw. It’s not his restrictions but his training regiment on making you a better person that keeps you trapped. He’s basically in control of your life, dictating what’s the best course of action to mold you into someone others can be proud of. Let’s be honest, it was never what he wanted because if it was, you’d be perfect the way you are. It’s about the social pressure of others and maybe something he created that makes him strive harder to shape you into a pretty gem that he can show off to others. Towards the end, he becomes more aggressive because what is the point of this futile fighting? You’ve come so far, now you’re just throwing it all away? At first, he was strict but a bit lenient, you’re a human so, of course, your capabilities are limited. After a while, he’s frustrated. Like when you’re teaching someone and after 30 minutes of them not getting it, you’re frustrated and ready to give up. He’d insult you, yell at you, and he may hurt you. It’s for your own good he reminds you, it’s your fault he’s doing this. He’d get stricter if you’re not getting it through your skull and start taking away your freedom little by little. I don’t want to say it’s like a doll that he gets to dress us because he’s a bit more aggressive, but it’s like a soldier and his general. He leads, and you follow. You don’t question him because he’s doing this for you.

Silver (no last name :( )

My adoptive son, my boy! So I’m going to go ahead and say it, he’s not meant to be a yandere. Like the theory that he’s supposed to be in RSA and that he’s a hero as opposed to a villain? Yeah, I believe it. For that reason, he’s hard to see as a yandere (ironic because I can see Neige as one and possibly Chenya but not him) and if he does ever show traits like that, it’s because he has Lilia and Malleus to push him to that. One thing I didn’t mention at the start, is that Diamonia see each other like family, that being said this is one dorm (like Pomefiore) that stick together and actually encourage their yandere behavior. His main traits would be overprotectiveness, manipulative, and possessive.

Starting off strong, I don’t see him as a yandere, in fact, he’s the only sane mf up in this dorm! He would never hurt you nor would he ever want to. If anything, he’ll save you from danger and care for you. Even if he wasn’t a yandere, he’d still be overprotective of his S/O. He’d be a sweet lover, he’d walk you to and from class and would ask special permission from Malleus to be able to leave his side for a little bit. Sebek might yell at him and call him irresponsible, but Malleus is intrigued so he allows it. Lilia is ecstatic! They really do grow up so fast, he remembers seeing Silver as a young boy and now he’s all grown up, even ready to date someone! Not to mention, he feels comfortable sleeping around you. He would use your lap as a pillow, sleeping peacefully as he has sweet dreams of you and him. It’s such a peaceful life. He’d help you study any subjects, telling you stories of his past and his life, and he’d even invite you to Diasomnia to meet his family. What could go wrong?

Well, it’s under the influence of his family where it goes wrong. Maybe, just maybe you and Silver aren’t together just yet, he was a bit shy. Did someone else start to put the moves on you? They started to ask you out, and take up your time and the time you spent with Silver begins to diminish. Little by little, eventually Silver begins to accept that this is fate. If this made you happy, he’d protect you from the shadows and would let you be happy. Only thing is, Lilia didn’t let that slide. What do you mean you aren’t in love with Silver? Oh, that won’t do! After all, if you love each other why would you ever want to leave? Silver is another person who wants that storybook romance, he’d be such a gentle and caring lover, but Lilia and Malleus are the poison that taints him. His father would never be wrong and even Malleus is agreeing, so there must be something Silver isn’t seeing. He’d start to be a bit more assertive, offering to walk you to class again and spending time with you. He’ll steal you back from the others who took you away in the first place. Soon, you’ll start expecting Silver and patiently waiting for him.

Just like how he cares and wishes to protect Malleus, he’ll hold you in the same regard. You’re special, you mean the world to him. As his father says, you’re the sun that greets his day! So don’t be surprised when he suddenly starts showing up to everything. Silver would never see you as something to own, sure you’re “his crush” but aside from that, it would be immoral to claim you as if you were a prize. Lilia seems to think differently, I mean you’re practically together no? If Silver truly does love you, then surely he would fight for you no? Lilia would remind him that if he lets you go, someone will take him. If he seems weak, who is to say someone won’t come and steal you, much less hurt you to get to him? He needs to be on that ASAP! Though Silver doesn’t want to keep you on a leash like that, it’s hard to go against his father’s and future king's advice. Surely they speak from experience. Silver would start small, continuing to take up your time without it interfering with his club or other duties. When someone notices that you’ve been spending time with him, they’d ask if you’re together or not. Before you have the chance to say anything, Silver is beating you to it and answers, “yes we are.” He’s a bit of an air-head at times so maybe he’s not aware of what that means. Aside from taking up your time as his, he wouldn’t do or say anything too drastic unless pushed towards it.

Unlike the rest of Diasomnia, Silver has morals. Unlike Malleus or Briar Valley which happens to be a dark and foreboding place, Silver is different. He was raised under Lilia’s influence but I’m sure that he also wants to cultivate his own path, which is why I say he’s not a yandere of his own free will. He wants to protect you, he wants to love you, but he’ll also respect you and your decisions. Lilia on the other hand will push and brainwash Silver to believe it HAS to be him. Silver is training to be a knight for Malleus, but he can be a knight for you as well! It has to be Silver, nobody else will treat you the same. Lilia is no fool and can see that Silver is fighting his inner demons so he redirects his doubts. Sure, Silver doesn’t want to claim you nor force you, so he won’t. Instead, Lilia convinces him that nobody else but him is suited to take care of you. He’s already a knight in training but he’s been around you for so long, there is no one better. He starts to tell Silver that it has to be him, nobody else. Maybe even exaggerate and say, “not even I could be suited to take care of them, Silver don’t you see? You’re their knight.” Silver would see it like that, the relationship switching to that of knight and royalty.

His love would be suffocating. You’re wrapped around his arms and he’s not letting go, “You’re safe with me my love.” There could be no real danger, but he somehow believed that if there ever was, he was the only one qualified to protect you. You two have a bond unlike any other, you trust him so much and he’s not willing to break it. I don’t want to say he’s manipulative, but he can guilt-trip you. He knows he’s not perfect, his narcolepsy sometimes holds him back and while they tried to cure him, it just wasn't enough. He’s here to repay a debt, the debt he somehow thinks he owes to Lilia and Malleus for raising him. He doesn’t mean harm, I mean he’s such a kind soul. He cares for his father and Malleus, no doubt he means well. Then again, has Silver ever once hurt you? He probably doesn’t even know he’s guilt-tripping you, he just assumes he’s confining in a trusted friend who happens to be so nice. I can see an instance where you’ve had enough, telling Silver that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to be hovering over you. There’s no danger and nobody is out to get you, but he so stubbornly scolds you saying that the moment you lower your guard they’re there. He’s here so you can lower it, if you were someone of royalty, he’d become the very castle walls that protect you. You don’t need to fear, he’s here.

He’s a 3/10 on the danger scale, the only thing he’d be is suffocating by how much he hovers over you. He doesn’t mean to, want to, or plans to hurt you. Any and everything he does is for your safety (or so he believes). If he ever believed that your reckless behavior posed a threat, he would probably keep you locked in a room or chained. He constantly reminds you, “it’s for your safety, please understand”. So he gets some points because he can be unpredictable, but the bottom line is he does it out of love and the need to protect. Not as a selfish desire, yet. He’s a rope on the rope-chain-saw scale because he’s not one to take away restrictions and make you feel like you have to earn them. He’d only ever resort to those methods if he felt like you were a danger to yourself, because of this you could probably get the drop on Silver but his dad and future king are right there ready to alert him. You managed to get Silver out of the room while you plan your escape through the window, but there Lilia is, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’d be hurting Silver’s feelings after he went through the trouble of caring for you. Not to mention, you wouldn’t get that far.” Over time, he would start to be more alert and you won’t be able to get the drop on him, sure his a bit of an air-head but you can’t fool him twice. In the end, your safety and protection matter the most and I see Silver being the person who starts to see what Lilia means. You’re safer tucked away in a tower than so be it. If you must suffer the same fate he does and sleep, so be it. It was never about keeping you, it was about protecting you.

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nyanashima · 2 years ago

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Bestie. I am GRABBING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS AND BEGGING FOR SMOOTH AND SWAUVE MC HCS WITH THE BROTHERS!!!

Thinking about how Mammon or Levi could be on their phone and walking, not paying attention to their surroundings and almost ram their head into a sign or something until MC COMES IN AND JUST. ARM AROUND THEIR WAIST PULLING THEM CLOSE WITH A CASUAL "You alright there, sweet boy?"

Sometimes MC is smooth on purpose, but sometimes... It is absolutely not intentional and they get ALLL the boys flustered. (That is including Luci, he is not immune to the MC's charms 💙)

How do react to the smoothness of MC? Do they totally 100% freak out? Or are they more of a subtle flustered with a small blush? 👀

STOP THIS IS SO CUTE!! i had so much fun thinking about this concept, they're all such dorks ❤️ sorry for the wait!! this is a little different from my usual stuff but i hope you enjoy ✨

The Brothers w/ a Smooth MC

Content warnings: none!

Lucifer

You didn’t do anything extravagant. Really, it was unsurprising, considering the nature of your relationship.

You simply texted him to ask if he had plans this evening.

Upon receiving “no” as a reply, you told him to be ready for 8:00— and that you’ll be taking him to dinner at Le Pluvier.

Lucifer stares down at his DDD, gloved hand over his mouth to hide his raging blush. You casually asserted yourself and left no room for argument. He’s done the same many, many times. So why is he so worked up?

Diavolo’s booming laugh snaps Lucifer out of his stupor. Beside him, Barbatos giggles behind his hand.

“This is the first I’ve seen you blush in quite some time, Lucifer. What did they say?”

Mammon

It’s an average day in the House of Lamentation— meaning Asmo’s screeching can be heard from down the hall.

Poking your head out your door, you can see Mammon making a mad dash towards you. Asmo appears from around the corner, slipper in hand. Even from a distance, it’s clear as day that he’s ready to kill.

He throws the slipper, but it narrowly misses Mammon’s head.

You tug Mammon into your room, and swiftly lock the door behind him.

“You alright there, pretty boy?”

He takes a moment to register what you said, then feels his face become engulfed by flame.

Internally, he’s caught between “Who ya callin’ pretty boy?” and “Whaddaya think yer doin’, sayin’ stuff like that?”

Instead, he stammers for a solid ten seconds.

“Ya better not go callin’ anyone else that, y’hear?”

Leviathan

You’re bored. You’re lonely. You’re tired.

The cure to these ailments lies in Levi’s room. More specifically, in watching him play his new puzzle game.

At this point, you don’t even knock; he wouldn’t hear you with his headphones on, so why bother?

You seem to step into the room just as he gets killed in-game, because he throws his head back in exasperation. He hasn’t noticed you yet.

You walk up behind him, and he jumps when your hand meets his back.

“This time for sure, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”

Levi freezes. Baby pink blooms to the tips of his ears. He buries his face in his hands and tries to stutter out something, anything. Congratulations, you’ve killed him.

“You-you can’t just s-say things like that…”

Satan

Your day has been, in a word, hectic. Between student council meetings, class, putting out fires and settling arguments, you haven’t been in one place for more than a few minutes.

You finally settle in the HOL library, hoping to get a few minutes to yourself. Or at the very least, a nice moment with Satan.

You receive the latter.

“MC, I haven’t seen you yet today. How’s the most beautiful person in the three realms doing?”

“I don’t know, how are you?”

Satan thinks he’s slick. He’s not.

He bluescreens.

You watch the gears turn as he mentally fumbles for words. It’s cute, really.

He chokes, and doesn’t even think to hide his blush. Tugging at his collar, he mumbles something resembling “I’m fine, thank you.”

From here on, he takes it upon himself to fluster you just as much.

Asmodeus

You and Asmo are sat on his bed for his weekly spa day. He’s chatting away, recounting gossip from all ends of the Devildom. While it is interesting, his eyes are what really grab your attention.

You find yourself lost in them. They remind you of something, but you can’t quite place what… It’s on the tip of your tongue, when-

“MC, are you even—”

Asmo realizes what’s happening, and can’t suppress a giggle.

“Like what you see, MC?”

Then it hits you.

“Topaz.” At this, Asmo quirks an eyebrow.

“...Hm?”

“That’s what your eyes remind me of. Topaz.”

Asmo’s breath hitches, and he beams. He throws his arms around you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Oh, you scoundrel~! Who taught you to say sweet things like that? You better be careful, or I’ll fall for you all over again~! ❤️”

Beelzebub

It’s been a long night, and you had too much caffeine, much too late. So naturally, you find yourself wandering to the kitchen.

The dim fridge light peeks around the corner, giving away Beel’s presence.

The ginger must have heard your footsteps, because he smiles brightly as soon as you poke your head through the doorway. It’s a gesture you gladly return.

“Hiya, handsome. Can’t sleep?”

His expression falters, mouth forming a small “o” as his cheeks flush. After a moment, he smiles again, albeit more sheepishly than before. His hand moves to scratch at his jaw, and his eyes dart from the floor back up to you. His voice is small when he replies.

“You think I’m handsome?”

Belphegor

The Devildom sky is truly unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

The view from this mountain is breathtaking. After an agonizing hike, you and Belphie settle in the grass at the highest point you can reach.

The stars glitter above you, and for once, all is peaceful. No screeching brothers, or smashing vases, or running down the hall to flee from a punishment. It’s just you, Belphegor, and the sky.

In the quiet tranquility, minutes turn to hours. All talk slows and eventually ceases as the both of you grow drowsy. And, after an impressively long period of time, Belphie inevitably falls asleep.

Checking your phone, you realize it’s time to head back. You shake your companion awake and laugh softly when he glares at you.

“C’mon, sleeping beauty. It’s time to go home.”

Belphegor stands up and wordlessly cracks his joints, pretending he didn’t hear your little nickname.

He’s silently grateful there’s no light to betray his blush.

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nightghoul381 · 5 months ago

Text

Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Chapter 8

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Roger: “Little lady, please reveal his ‘secret’ for me.”

Roger: “I don’t know what I’ll have to offer in return.”

Roger grinned, waved, and walked away.

(Ellis’ emotions and desires are ‘secrets’)

If you open that secret box, what will you find inside?

I wonder what I can offer him to get him to open it.

Ellis: “Kate, thank you for waiting.”

When I looked up, Ellis was smiling and walking toward me.

Ellis: “…”

Ellis stopped next to me, looked at me intently, and then smiled softly.

Ellis: “You changed your clothes. It’s cute… it looks great on you.”

Kate: “Th-Thank you…”

The sweet words that came out so naturally made me feel like everything I was thinking about went flying away.

Ellis: “Let’s go… patrol and picnic.”

Kate: “…Yeah.”

(Hopefully I can learn a little bit more today.)

(About Ellis’ ‘secrets’)

As a result of the two of us patrolling around suspicious places in London…

We resolved one drunken dispute and brought a lost child home.

Other than that, there was nothing unusual--.

Kate: “Ahh! It feels so good…!”

We came to the park to take a break for lunch and I laid down on the blanket that Ellis had spread out for me.

Ellis also lay down next to me.

Ellis: “You’re right… It does feel good.”

Kate: “This time of day may just be the best…”

I closed my eyes, entranced by the sunlight filtering through the trees as it caressed my skin.

The scent of the grass warmed by the sunlight mixed with the smell of fragrant scones wafting from the basket,

It smelled of calm happiness.

(The sun, the smell of grass, and delicious food. Picnics are great after all…)

Kate: “Mmm, feels good.”

When I breathed in the feeling of happiness filling the air…

Ellis: “Happy face.”

I heard a voice next to me and turned around…

I saw a handsome face right next to me and my heart skipped a beat.

Ellis: “… the other day, when you told me ‘I’m happiest when I take a nap on my bed in the sun on vacation’.”

Ellis: “I was imagining how happy you would be.”

Ellis: “I wanted to know, so I invited you to take a nap today…”

Ellis: “…So, do you feel happier now than when you’re ‘taking a nap on your bed in the sun on vacation’?”

Ellis rests his elbows on the blanket and looks down at me.

(…If I want to know Ellis’ feelings, I should be honest about my feelings too.)

Kate: “…Delicious scones are waiting for me, and unlike in my bedroom, the breeze feels nice.”

Kate: “And I can talk to you like this now, Ellis… I guess I am happier.”

Ellis: “Hmm… I see.”

Ellis: “Kate, are you happier spending time with someone than resting alone?”

Kate: “Huh…?”

Part 2

Ellis: “Kate, are you happier spending time with someone than resting alone?”

Kate: “Huh…?”

Kate: “Yeah, I like talking to others, so…”

Ellis: “Who are you the happiest to talk to?”

Kate: “Happiest…?”

Ellis: “Yes. Is there someone special you really like?”

(Some special that I like…)

I don’t understand why Ellis would ask such a question, but my heartbeat starts to quicken on its own.

Kate: “Well… I don’t think there’s any one in particular that I would think is the best…”

Ellis: “Got it… Let me know if you can find the best.”

(Let you know…?)

I suddenly noticed the temperature difference between me and Ellis.

Kate: “…Why?”

Ellis: “I want to work with you so you can be happy.”

***Choices***

1. What do you mean? +4 +2

2. Thank you... +2 +4

**3. Work with me? +4 +4**

Kate: “Um…What do you mean by work with me?”

Ellis: “I’ll make sure you spend time with the person you love the most… or something like that.”

Ellis: “I’m sure you’ll be happier that way, right?”

(W-Well… that’s a surprise.)

My body, which had been unconsciously stiff, soon relaxed

My heart was pounding in a different way than before.

(Asking me about who I like to be with and if there’s anyone special.)

(For a moment, I thought he was trying to woo me… I wonder what he was thinking.)

(I’m trying not to misunderstand.)

Ellis is so kind and good at pampering that I may have become self-conceited before I realized it.

(Ha, I’m getting embarrassed…!)

Kate: “I’m happy, but you can’t also take care of my love life.”

Kate: “But, if I find someone I like, I’ll let you know.”

Ellis: “…”

When I smiled, Ellis suddenly sat up and put his arm over me.

Kate: “…Uh, Ellis…?”

Ellis: “…Kate, do you like me?”

Part 3

Ellis: “…Kate, do you like me?”

(Eh…?)

The blue sky stretched out behind Ellis’ shoulders as he peered down at me from above.

His face was so close that his soft bangs were almost touching my cheeks.

(Wow, Ellis’ hair looks soft… I bet it feels good when you touch it--)

For a moment, I felt like I was escaping reality, but then I suddenly came back to my senses.

(No, no! Ellis… Did you really ask that? If I like you!?)

Kate: “So, why ask that all of a sudden?”

Ellis: “Just now, for some reason, you seemed… lonely.”

(Wha…)

My face heats up as I remember how egotistical I was.

Ellis: “That’s why I thought you were attracted to me.”

(Attracted…. I might have been.)

There is no doubt that my heart is always pounding when I’m with Ellis.

(But…maybe it’s not from love)

(Maybe I’m just so excited because I’m being treated so kindly without any extra effort.)

When I shook my head, Ellis tilted his head innocently.

Ellis: “You’re not? I see… That’s a shame.”

Kate: “…A shame?”

Ellis: “If you liked me, we could be lovers.”

Ellis: “I thought that I could make you even happier that way.”

(We could be lovers…)

Kate: “…Ellis, do you like me that way?”

Ellis: “Yeah, I like you.”

Ellis smoothly spoke without any hesitation.

Kate: “But just a moment ago, you said you would help me if I found someone I liked…?”

Ellis: “That’s not a lie either. I mean… You want the person you love to be happy, right?”

(Maybe so…)

I’m beginning not to understand what Ellis means by ‘like’.

Kate: “What do you like about me? We’ve only known each other a few days.”

Ellis: “I think it’s great that you’re such a hard worker.”

Ellis: “It’s also cute how you can’t resist eating something delicious.”

Ellis: “There’s also the way you try to patrol for victims you’ve never seen before.”

Ellis: “You’re so kind, like how you remember my favorite foods and take me to naps like this.”

Ellis: “Yesterday… instead of being scared, you were concerned about me.”

(…)

The eyes staring at me were straight forward, and the sweet words he spoke to me so slowly made me feel like I was drowning in him.

Ellis: “…Do you need more explanation?”

Part 4

Ellis: “…Do you need more explanation?”

Kate: “N-No, I don’t…”

Is this—Ellis’ feelings? Ellis’ desires?

What’s inside Ellis’ ‘secret’ box?

It’s just—too convenient to me.

--Flashback—

Kate: “Ellis, do you do things to make yourself happy, regardless of other people’s happiness?”

Ellis: “—no.”

Ellis: “What I like to do is help others.”

--End Flashback—

It might be true that Ellis likes me.

However—

Kate: “…So, what if I also liked you, Ellis?”

Kate: “What would you do if I said ‘I’d be happier if we didn’t become lovers’?”

Ellis: “Does that mean… that it’s better the way it is now?”

Kate: “…yeah.”

Ellis: “…As long as you’re happy, I don’t care what kind of relationship we have.”

(Oh…As expected.)

When Ellis said “We could be lovers”, it was to make me happy.

Ellis himself didn’t care either way.

(I guess that’s it.)

(… I feel lonely.)

Kate: “In that case… I’d rather stay as is.”

(I like the kind Ellis as a person.)

(I think I want to give back as much as he gives to make me happy.)

Kate: “It’s not just about making the other person happy.”

Kate: “Ellis, I think it would be better for you to become lovers with someone you want to have by your side forever.”

Ellis: “I…by my side forever?”

Kate: “Yes, exactly.”

Ellis: “…”

(Did I say something that strange…?)

Ellis froze, staring blankly into the distance.

(I don’t know what’s wrong.)

Kate: “Ellis, are you okay?”

Ellis: “…..Oh.”

Ellis: “Ah, yeah…Sorry, I’m okay.”

His eyes wandered absentmindedly and he gently lifted his body, moving from his position over me.

(Ellis’ expression just now…)

Part 5

(Ellis’ expression just now…)

--Flashback—

Bill: “Right? Every time I have a successful show, I feel like it may be my happiest moment. I don’t care if I died right now!”

Ellis: “…”

Bill: “But, when I wake up after drinking to celebrate, I think, wow. I can make something even better!”

Bill: “I’m going to see more of the world I don’t know! That’s it!”

Kate: “Hehe, that’s wonderful! I’m rooting for you too!”

Ellis: “…”

(Ellis…?)

Ellis: “…I hope you can continue to feel that way forever.”

--End Flashback—

(His face looked a little like when he was staring at Bill.)

Ellis: “Kate, let’s have some scones, shall we?”

Ellis smiles at me as he opened the basket.

Kate: “Ah, that’s right! After we eat lunch and rest for a while, we have to go on patrol again.”

As I arranged the dishes on the gingham blanket,

The picnic blanket began to look like a party.

Kate: “Wow, that’s a beautiful ‘wolf’s mouth’. Victor is really good at making scones.”

I split the scone vertically along the cracks, sandwiched a generous amount of cranberry jam in between, and handed it to Ellis.

Ellis: “Thank you.... Ah, that’s right. Kate.”

Kate: “Yeah?”

I also grabbed a bite of jam and then,

Something wrapped around my wrist.

Ellis: “I found this while on patrol earlier. I wanted to give it to you.”

It was a bracelet decorated with thorns and roses.

Kate: “Aw…. It’s so cute. Thank you.”

Giving each other gifts has already become a part of our daily routine.

After accepting it so casually, I suddenly noticed something.

(Huh? Something about this design…)

Kate: “It looks like it matches your accessories too, doesn’t it Ellis?”

Ellis: “That… is true.”

The brooch on his collar and the chain hanging from his belt.

Many of the gold and silver accessories he wears are shaped like thorns or roses.

Looking down at himself, Ellis let out a small laugh.

Ellis: “I thought it would look good on you, so I bought it.”

(I--I wonder what this is…)

(It’s like he subconsciously wants me to wear the same thing…)

The confession from earlier came back to me and my face became hot.

(Maybe that confession was serious…?)

(--No, there’s no way!)

Kate: “Ah, thank you. I’ll cherish it.”

Ellis: “…”

Ellis’ eyes widened and then he smiled faintly.

Ellis: “…Yeah, do that.”

By the time we finished our patrol and returned to the castle, night was almost upon us.

It was decided that night that we would head to the gang’s base.

Next Chapter

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikevil ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight #ellis twilight main route

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gachawolfiebloom · 3 months ago

Text

Two Hearts In The City of Love

Chapter 14: Confessing Under the Full Moon

It was just them now. No wacky shenanigans from Mario. No Mr Puzzles trapping them for his entertainment. None of their friends. Just them. Both of them noticed how they were tightly squeezing while holding hands. Four was still a little shaken up by all of this and he missed being by Three's side. Three was so relieved to see his counterpart, his partner, his friend, his crush. He wanted to keep Four close by since he had almost lost the other half of him.

"Uhh..Three? You're gripping my hand a little hard." He instantly blushed and shy retracted his arm, whispering "Sorry..." Four felt bad for what he did. He actually enjoyed holding Three's hand. His gloves made his hands feel so nice and warm. He then saw a bridge next to them as he pointed to it and said "Let's rest here for a while." Three wasn't sure, but shrugged and followed.

Both of them noticed all the locks chiming in the cool breeze. Three shifted his gaze from the locks to the full moon above. "Geez...must have been gone a long time for the moon to be full." Three leaned himself against the railing, head in his hands as he stared up at it. He wanted to ask Four something, but then noticed that he wasn't next to him. He was standing behind. "You can join me if you want." Four shook his head and looked at the ground in silence. "What? Are you afraid of water or something?"

"No...not exactly."

Three didn't get until Four timidly asked "Would you push me?"

"Huh?"

"Would you push me off the bridge?"

Three got up from the railing and concernedly approached. "Of course not! Why would you think that?" Four wanted to tell him about the nightmare, but then he had a thought of realization. Would this all go away if he finally admitted his feelings? "Just wondering." Three wanted to say something else, but Four stopped him by grabbing hold of his hands. His hands still felt soft and warm.

"I need to tell you something Three."

"Okay."

Four gave him a stern look and said "Please listen close. It's really important."

"I'm listening." Three playfully teased him by looking off to the side. "I'm serious Three!" He laughed and said "Alright Alright. I am 100% focused." Four sighed as he didn't know exactly how to say this. A monologue seemed kinda sappy, but he really wanted to sum up his experience for Three. Oh just forget it. "It's now or never Four..."

"Three, I know we didn't start out on the best terms. We hated each other from day 1 and it seemed like we would be enemies for life, but somehow we didn't. When we learned about our meme guardian connection, it made us closer and we showed each other how well we work as a team. But, I haven't just been here for you. You've been there for me."

"How we bonded during the heist, getting stuck in those TV parodies, and how you told me how you would always be there for me during the...incident. I haven't forgotten what you told me." Three listened intently to every word, holding back his words as Four smiled and intertwined their fingers. "But now I've realized, my feelings have grown stronger. I thought it was when I was with my friends, but it's you Three. I want us to be together, laugh together, hell even competing with each other like that. The point is...I-I love you Three."

As those words escaped his lips, the air around them felt thick. Three's eyes widened as Four gasped and shut his mouth. "Four...you do?" The blue eyed man then had flashbacks about the nightmare. He just had to open his big mouth. "I'M SORRY! I DON'T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME! I KNOW YOU HATE ME, BUT PLEASE DON'T PUSH ME OFF! I'M STUPID FOR THINKING THAT! I'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!" His body shook in fear as he covered his crying face with his hands.

Three quickly said "NO! That's not what I was going to say! I could never hate you! Really!" Four sniffed before cautiously lowered one hand. "You're not pulling on my leg are you?" Three slowly came over and softly held him. "No. Why would I say that after you told me just what I've been waiting so long to hear." Four felt his puffy eyes being replaced by pink, rosy cheeks. "Four...I've loved you for even longer! I've spent so many countless moments thinking about you, how you've change my life, but I ignored it because I was worried about what you would say."

Four felt his fears slowly fade away as their foreheads touched and they looked into each other's eyes. "I love you so much Smg4. So much you moron." Four was so overjoyed that he didn't hold back and pressed his lips against Three's. He jumped at the touch, but let himself melt into it as he wrapped his arms around Four and played with his hair. When they finally pulled back, Three asked "So...what do we say to the others. Are we boyfriends now?" Four giggled and said "I guess so.

Three looked back to the sky and said "It's getting late. We should go back before the others get worried." That was fine with Four. It was after midnight anyway. They walked back, hand in hand as Four laughed and told his new boyfriend "Pretty cliche how we confessed in Paris." Three rolled his eyes and said "Soooo cliche."

"I guess we're just Two Hearts In The City of Love."

Chapter 15: Sick Day

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #smg43 #smg4 x smg3 #tari #tsundere #love confession #luigi #mario #meggy #paris #romance

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therealcocoshady · 28 days ago

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how do u feel that ppl r saying Eminem is supporting a "genocide party" after the Kamala Harris rally? and that he shldnt even be involved in politics bc he hasnt said anything abt Palestine in any of his music or on social media this entire time?

Well… that’s a complex issue. As someone who is not from the US, hasn’t lived there and is not a specialist of American politics, I have a limited understanding of what is going on. So please feel free to correct me if I am wrong.

As far as I know, none of the parties are actively involved against the genocide that has been going on in Palestine. On the one hand, there is VP Harris, who worked alongside Biden, whose policies have supported Israel in many ways (though I believe a call for a ceasefire ended up being made at some point ?). On the other, we have Trump & the Republican Party, whose support for Israel is matched by their xenophobic and Islamophobic stances. So, anyone supporting any of the candidate is supporting a party who has not made a clear display of support for Palestine. As far as I know, none of them have expressed any intention of applying pressure on Netanyahu or recognizing Palestine… Then, by that logic, anyone supporting either candidate is supporting genocide, you know ?

As far as Marshall Mathers himself, he has not made any statement regarding his views on the matter. He hasn’t expressed any support for Palestine, nor has he expressed any for Israel after the events of 10-07-2023. I’ve seen people reaching, arguing that Paul Rosenberg might be a Zionist (as far as I know he hasn’t spoken either ?) which would mean Em is one too, or that some people he has worked in the past support Palestine, meaning that so does he. Honestly, there is no way to know what his views are.

Now, I assume there is a underlying question to your Ask, which would be : what do I think of the fact that he hasn’t spoken on the issue ?

Well… I’m not sure. To be clear : I am 100% supporting Palestine 🇵🇸. I am 100% AGAINST the killing of innocent people. And I am 100% AGAINST the expansionist policy of Netanyahu. This is how I feel as a human being, and as a Christian from Jewish descent.

Now, the issue of people with a tremendous platform having a duty to speak out on issues is a complex one. We could write tons of posts and probably a book about the arguments against or in favor of it. There are moral and ethical issues at play which, I believe, coincide with economical and reputational stakes.

I can understand why artists would be wary to speak out. Or why their management might advise against it. It sucks because the cause could use their platform, whether it is about spreading awareness or raising funds.

I wish more artists would speak up but I am also not someone who would cancel someone for not speaking. I don’t know people’s reasons to stay silent. At the end of the day, he is a grown man with his own moral compass, making his own decisions.

He often speaks about wanting to be on the right side of history, though. So I wish that, regardless of the candidate he chose to endorse, he had used his influence. But I’m not going to stop listening to his music or being a fan because he didn’t speak up, you know ?

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again : I do not believe that him supporting Harris means he agrees with every single thing she stands for. I think this is him supporting the candidate who is the best option, and aligns with his views as much as possible.

I want to end with this : just because people are silent doesn’t mean that they aren’t doing good deeds. I believe that Eminem is a prime example of that, seeing as he doesn’t advertise everything he does for others. Who knows, maybe he is helping in other way ? 🤷‍♀️

Hope this answers your question !

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #free palestine #save palestine #palestinian genocide #i stand with palestine #all eyes on palestine #Eminem Palestine #Kamala Harris

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codenamesazanka · 5 months ago

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idk how to feel re: spinner's 'octopus' comment. on the one hand, i like seeing him portrayed as bitter (who can blame), maybe even hypocritical in that bitterness, but man. surely there were better ways to show that. this is spinner we are talking about, after all. was that comment that necessary. it does feel like a weird attempt at propping up deku, and remind us that, even if he's sympathetic, spinner is still a villain who "chooses" the path of shittiness (like you said). unlike deku, endeavor or even hawks (as though those have done anything other than say a few nice words and admit that they did wrong). doesn't feel like it's there not to give spinner depth, but to remind us that heroes are indeed the greatest

Hi anon, thank you for this ask!

I agree with you - this is a dark side I can/would/do like to see in Spinner. Bitter, and who can blame him! But hypocritical in that bitterness. Angry and vengeful and petty and hurtful, because that is what grief and hurt can do to someone. I'm not opposed to it!! It is a very real thing that happens. Internalized bigotry. Being a hypocrite. Simply being so hurt and miserable that you grasp for exactly that same hurt to fling out - because you know it hurts, you know exactly how it hurts and haunts, how effective it is. The best weapon in the arsenal, one that's always been there, long before you were ever a part of this. Because it's there, you reach for it. I understand such feelings very well and am always on the lookout for it to be portrayed!

It's just obvious there's no intention of exploring that. As you said, it's not to give Spinner depth. It's not a look into how systems of oppression and discrimination wears a person down, how anyone is susceptible to it, how this shit is so tough and messy and awful, and so we must find solutions. It's none of that - it's Spinner being a villain who "chooses" the path of shittiness. Possibly his very last line in the whole story. 😔

You can try to read those intentions into it, but it's supplemental. The average reader don't have to at all. I don't begrudge anyone who has a worse opinion of Spinner after this. That line is there for that purpose. Shoji has no relevance in this conservation, and Spinner himself brings up his origin of anti-heteromorphic abuse. Spinner going out of his way to call Shoji an octopus is unnecessary except as one last lasting impression and strike.

Spinner is an ungrateful asshole, and Deku is the kind boy who tried. Villains ultimately deserve most of what they get, and Heroes are the greatest.

Sorry to just repeat your lines, anon, but I must, as you're 100% correct.

Thanks again for the ask!

#nalslastworkingbraincell #spoilers #bnha spoilers

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comikadraws · 22 days ago

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Madara's other three siblings were all boys like him and Izuna?

Did Madara Have Any Sisters?

Not 100% sure because I am not a Japanese speaker (I just sometimes like to research these types of questions). So if there's a Japanese speaker among us, please correct me on any of this if I am wrong. Also correct me if I missed any information here.

There are different English translations floating around, some in which Madara refers to his siblings just as, well, "siblings" and others in which he calls them "brothers". In the Japanese version, Madara consistently uses 兄弟 (Kyōdai) to refer to his siblings. This is the same word that all translations seem to translate into "siblings" whenever it is used by Hashirama.

According to my research, the Japanese word for "siblings" is 兄弟 (Kyōdai)... but 兄弟 (Kyōdai) also means "brothers". This makes the meaning of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) ambiguous and dependant on context.

Kyōdai and Gender-Neutrality

The crux of the issue is that Japanese does not have a gender-neutral term for "siblings". As a quick overview, there's...

兄弟 (Kyōdai) using the kanji for "older brother" + "younger brother" 兄妹 (Keimai) using the kanji for "older brother" + "younger sister" 姉弟 (Shitei) using the kanji for "older sister" + "younger brother" 姉妹 (Shimai) using the kanji for "older sister" + "younger sister"

And as if to make it all worse, it appears that each of the above can also be read as きょうだい "Kyōdai" though this appears to be a less common reading but not impossible, as seen in the case of the sand sibling trio 砂の三姉弟 (Suna no Sankyōdai).

The Japanese solve this issue of not having an exclusive term for "siblings" by making "Kyōdai" double as both "brothers" and "siblings". The meaning is even more ambiguous in spoken Japanese, as otherwise, the use of its kanji form 兄弟 (kanji for "older brother" + "younger brother") has a strong association with male siblings.

To avoid confusion in written text, "Kyōdai" can be spelled きょうだい using only hiragana (which is the closest thing to an ABC that Japanese has), avoiding using male-associated kanji. You can also combine "brothers" and "sisters" into 兄弟姉妹 (Kyōdaishimai). Neither of those are strict rules, however, which is also the reason why Kishimoto uses the kanji version of 兄弟 even when Hashirama refers to the village which has a mix of different genders (compare with the manga panels above).

Alternatively, if you want to specify male siblings only, you can use 弟 (Otōto) to say "younger brothers" or 男兄弟 (Otokokyōdai) to say "male siblings".

Hashirama and Madara on Kyōdai

Unfortunately, none of this helps us clear up the confusion. Evidently, when Kishimoto gave Madara siblings, he was not bothered enough to specify whether Madara had sisters or not due to the ambiguity of 兄弟 (Kyōdai). The best we can do from here is try to infer what might be implied through context.

The most suitable scene we have for gauging the intention behind Madara's use of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) here is probably one from Chapter #622. After the death of Itama, Hashirama asks Madara whether he has any 兄弟 (Kyōdai), hoping to connect with him. Madara responds, saying he is one of five 兄弟 (Kyōdai).

Since Madara is responding to a question here, the meaning of Madara's 兄弟 (Kyōdai) depends on his own understanding of Hashirama's use of 兄弟 (Kyōdai).

What Does Hashirama Refer to?

The overarching context of this flashback and the subject it focuses on are the untimely deaths of children on the battlefield (regardless of gender) and Hashirama's opposition to war which is informed by his grief as an older brother.

Although Hashirama has just lost a younger brother specifically, he is likely not seeking to connect via the concept of losing a brother only. He is seeking to connect via the general grief and anger that comes with losing a close family member and one who was still a child at that. This opens up an opportunity for Hashirama to not only talk about his loss but also the injustices of the shinobi world that so willingly takes the lives of children.

It is, of course, entirely possible that Hashirama is still referring to male siblings only, but the problem is that he is using spoken Japanese yet doesn't verbally express any specifications when 男兄弟 (Otokokyōdai) and 弟 (Otōto) are perfectly fine options. Additionally, he has little reason to narrow down the meaning of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) to male siblings only. Perhaps he finds the connection between a brother and sister to be less significant or relatable than the connection between two brothers, but that's about it.

What Does Madara Refer to?

Since Hashirama was asking for 兄弟 (Kyōdai) of any gender, Madara has no reason to specify the gender of his siblings either. Since he adopts the ambiguous 兄弟 (Kyōdai) from Hashirama, we can assume that his use of the word was just as ambiguous.

I personally don't see how Hashirama could understand Madara's use of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) to definitively mean "brothers only" in this instance (though perhaps I am just missing something here). If at all, it is only us readers who could possibly understand 兄弟 (Kyōdai) to mean "brothers only" due to its kanji combination. Even then the kanjis 兄弟 may have simply been used for the sake of brevity (small speech bubbles and all) and not necessarily to imply brothers specifically.

Due to the two different meanings of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) being virtually indistinguishable from one another, Madara could have theoretically also just misunderstood Hashirama's question. While that is an unlikely scenario, the option isn't entirely off the table either.

For the fanfic writers: In either of these two scenarios, Madara never specifies that he doesn't have sisters. Assuming he uses 兄弟 (Kyōdai) ambiguously, Madara's and Izuna's other three siblings might include sisters. Assuming he thinks he is being asked about only his male siblings specifically, telling Hashirama he has four brothers does not rule out the possibility that Madara might have sisters on top of those four brothers.

The only case in which this doesn't hold true is in one in which Hashirama's 兄弟 (Kyōdai) is ambiguous whereas Madara's is not. You wouldn't reply to "do you have any siblings" with an answer that leaves out your sisters unless for good reason.

Madara's Otōto

Remember how I said that if you mean male siblings only, you can just use 男兄弟 (Otokokyōdai) or 弟 (Otōto)? Well, Madara is perfectly capable of using that in Chapter #625.

In a mirror of Chapter #623, Madara explains how he couldn't protect his 弟 (Otōto) which means "younger brother(s)". Due to Japanese not having any plurals in the English sense, 弟 (Otōto) can both refer to just one or multiple little brothers. Considering the context of Madara referring to the promise he made to Izuna, 弟 (Otōto) likely refers to Izuna alone in this instance.

Using 弟 (Otōto) is an interesting choice of words though, as in Chapter #623 Madara uses 兄弟 (Kyōdai) instead. Unlike 兄弟 (Kyōdai), 弟 (Otōto) both specifies the age of the sibling relative to Madara as well as their gender. This might imply that Madara's other siblings are not just younger brothers - instead, his 兄弟 (Kyōdai) may include female siblings, younger siblings, or both for the distinction to make sense.

The notion that Madara had older brothers might conflict with information from the databooks, depending on your interpretation of 長男 (Chōnan) which can either mean "first-born son" or "oldest son". As far as my understanding goes, the latter may still apply to a younger son under the condition that his elder brothers have died.

The databook page also seems to be focused on Tajima's sons specifically, but we also have to remember that the page is likely referring to a point in time at which he has already lost three of his children, some of which may have been female.

Note: The English translation is also a little mistranslated. In the Japanese version, Tajima was "willing to use his 子 (Ko = children)" and "viewed the love for his 息子 (Musuko = sons) as objective". Or maybe the text says something slightly different because I only checked the translation for "son", haha. Anyway, the English version, instead, only talks about Tajima's "sons".

So to Summarize

- Hashirama likely meant "siblings" when using 兄弟 (Kyōdai). In response, Madara likely referred to "siblings" as well. In this scenario, Madara has four siblings but potentially of different genders (some of which may be older than Madara). - In the event that Madara thought/knew that Hashirama referred to "brothers" instead, Madara may have only mentioned his male siblings - but this doesn't eliminate the possibility of sisters. In this scenario, Madara has four brothers (some of which are likely older than Madara) and an unknown number of sisters. - We can only safely assume that Madara did not have any sisters under the assumption that he understood Hashirama's question to mean 兄弟 (Kyōdai) but opted for intentional miscommunication instead. In this scenario, Madara only has four brothers (some of which are likely older than Madara).

Personally, I cannot give you a definitive answer on the issues. There are lots of what-ifs at play and I believe Kishimoto may have just left it deliberately vague. I think there's a good chance Madara was referring to both male and female siblings due to his consistent use of 兄弟 (Kyōdai) in opposition to 男兄弟 (Otokokyōdai) or 弟 (Otōto). The problem is that we just don't know. But in the event that Kishimoto intentionally made Madara use 兄弟 (Kyōdai) with male kanji specifically, I'd at least argue that Madara had at least one older brother due to the distinction Madara makes between Izuna and his brothers as a whole.

However, please keep in mind that I am not a Japanese speaker (I neither grew up with the language nor did I study it at any point in time) which is why you should take anything I said with a barrel of salt. Everything in this post is the result of research and not any of my personal expertise.

#that question bothered me months ago when noticing translation differences actually #and i also though anon might be needing this for a headcanon or fanfic or some other thing so i sort of prioritized this one #i've got so many asks in my inbox from months ago help #naruto #naruto discussion #madara #madara uchiha #ask #naruto ask #anon #anon ask #izuna #izuna uchiha #warring states #madara's siblings #madara's brothers #madara's sisters

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nexility-sims · 10 months ago

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Hi, there! Love your story!! Any advice for a first-time simmer looking to do this sort of thing?

i'm gonna say from the outset that you surely did not request an automobile manual's worth of expounding on such a simple question, but ... that's what i've given you :^) partly, i wanted to cover all the of the bases of what you may have meant, so there are three parts: "general advice for thriving," "specific advice for knowing when you're ready," and "specific advice for doing what i do." hopefully these are useful and not completely derivative of what other people have said recently. beyond that, i'll just say i am always, always happy to talk about storytelling, to answer questions, and to give feedback on anything and everything. thanks for the question—and the kind words, too !

ONE - general advice for thriving

JUST START TELLING YOUR STORY ALREADY. maybe it’s obvious, but the best advice is to dive in. it’s like going for the first swim of the season and knowing you’ve got to take the plunge but dreading the cold of it. once you finally submerge yourself, you’re having fun. it’s easy to get caught up in endless preparation. planning is important, whatever that looks like for you, but you’ve got to know when it becomes procrastinating. being ready to start is not the same thing as being 100% confident and 100% polished. i’m willing to bet none of your favorite storytellers, people whose stories have been ongoing for years with dedicated readers, started off confident and polished. it may not be universal, but i think there’s a common reaction when a new reader likes your very first story post: cringing because it’s your worst work but knowing it only gets better from there. storytelling is something you have to practice, and the basics of it become more intuitive and effortless as you go.

continued and continued and continued below ...

BE INTENTIONAL ABOUT WHAT BRINGS YOU JOY. to feel satisfied and stay motivated, prioritize your passions. you want to tell this specific story for a reason; you want to do simblr storytelling, specifically, for a reason. the former is likely because you’re inspired by your plot/characters. the latter could be because you enjoy taking screenshots, you enjoy writing dialogue, you love reading simblr stories, or any number of technical reasons why the medium speaks to you. there are probably things you don’t love as much—posing sims, filling plot holes, realizing your skills don’t fully line up with your ambitions. in my experience, being able to name why you’re doing this translates into being able to crafting a story around those priorities. that, in turn, means having the motivation to power through the parts you like less.

i hate making poses, so i approach my work from the perspective of, “i’m not going to get hung up on having the exact right poses, and i don’t want to slow my story down by wasting time in blender.” other people love making poses or decide having the right one is what’s important to them. being purposeful saves you the trouble of agonizing over things that aren’t actually necessary or, worse, that eventually lead you to burn out and abandon the work altogether. we have to make compromises to tell good stories—maybe you hate writing outlines but know doing it will make things easier later—and it’s invaluable, imo, to know why you’re making those choices. there are jacks-of-all-trades with infinite free time and buckets of inspiration among us, but you’re likely not one of them. don’t worry, though, because neither am i.

FALL IN LOVE WITH OTHER PEOPLE'S STORIES. this one is huge, albeit ostensibly a step removed from the immediate task of storytelling. something i’ve noticed is that people who genuinely engage with other people’s work get more love for their own. it makes sense when you think about it. ideally, if someone is taking the time to catch up on my story, to ask me questions about my characters, to demonstrate that they see what i’m doing, then i want to reciprocate that. to me, it’s actually off-putting when someone only ever publicizes or discusses their own story. that being said, it’s easy to get caught up in our work—using our finite free time to make sure our project gets done—and not allocate time for getting to know other people’s. it’s no crime or even a bad thing. yet, to me, that defeats the purpose of joining a community like this one. it also makes our stories weaker, to reference the wisdom that writers must also be readers. talking to someone about their characters, their writing process, how they stage a scene in the game (or observing those elements while reading their posts) makes me reflect on what i’m doing. paying true attention to other storytellers is a practice of reciprocity that builds community, and it gives you solid examples to learn from as you go.

FOCUS ON GROWTH, NOT WEAKNESS. relatedly, the learning element is so important! a common pitfall, especially for someone just starting out, is getting hung up on what you think you’re doing wrong and comparing yourself to others. maybe their stories are more visually pleasing. maybe their plots have better pacing and impact. maybe their characters get more engagement from readers. step one is to not compare, but i suspect most of us will cop to failing that step. step two, then, could be turning those negative feelings into motivation. if your options are getting down on yourself and abandoning your story versus pushing through and improving ... well, it’s clear to me which is the better option. step three is figuring out how to push through and improve. my advice is the above tip: make some friends whose stories you admire and who are willing to give you encouragement and feedback. most simblr folks, i find, are generous like that.

IT'S A HOBBY AND A CRAFT AND A COMMUNITY. that leads me to my final point, which is basically a bundle of generative contradictions. simblr is a hobby, which means you can’t take it too seriously. storytelling is a craft, which means you have to take it seriously to get better. story simblr is a community, which means the best way to have fun and get better is by doing it with other people. if your goal is to have a hugely popular story that hundreds of nameless followers adoringly read, then, statistically, you’re going to fail. a more reasonable goal is becoming part of a collective who are working on stories they mutually enjoy. maybe you’re in a writing group or have a beta reader. maybe you’re collaborating with another simblr. maybe you have a handful of mutuals with whom you interact exclusively through likes, reblogs, and replies. having done all of the above, my experience is that i’m most excited about my story, most motivated to work on it, most likely to get the positive engagement i want when i’m actively trying to have fun, get better, and be part of the community. from someone who is not infrequently stymied by social anxiety and perfectionism: you can’t reap benefits you don’t sow.

TWO - advice for knowing when you’re ready:

TURN YOUR IDEA INTO A CAST AND A NARRATIVE. i say narrative instead of “outline” for a few reasons: 1) not every story is event-driven, 2) the traditionally imagined outline structure doesn’t work for everyone, and 3) pre-defining everything doesn’t work for everyone either, plus 3a) frontloading too much detail is a lot of work and 3b) can dampen creativity. maybe you have a bulleted list, an illustrated storyboard, a well-organized playlist … regardless of what it is, you should know roughly what the sequence of major experiences or events is, how they’re connected, and what you want them to convey to the reader. i did a ton of winging it when i started my main story in 2021, and i did a lot more planning with this current project; as you go, you’ll figure out what kind of preparation makes the most sense for you, and that may change, too.

MAKE DECISIONS ABOUT THE LOGISTICS. it’s important to emphasize that you can and perhaps should change your mind / experiment later, but some things are nice to have settled before you start posting. among them, i would recommend several. one is figuring out if you do scripts or screenshots first. another is knowing if your story is more gameplay-based or will rely on poses. you should also have a sense of the locations you’ll need and whether those will be existing in-game lots, builds you download from others, or ones you build yourself. are you editing your screenshots visually, in canva, photoshop, gimp, photopea, etc? are you using reshade / gshade in game? are you writing dialogue, prose, or both—and are you then putting it on the screenshots or as text below them? what’s your posting schedule going to be, if you choose to have one instead of posting as you go? these are just some considerations, but i would say they’re significant. for every combination of ways to tell a story, there’s almost certainly a simblr doing it. there’s no right or wrong, only what’s right for you.

RUN YOUR PLANS BY SOMEONE ELSE. it’s not essential or always feasible, but feedback can make you feel better about the whole thing. having someone give you constructive criticism, whether on your outline or your planned posting schedule, is helpful. even more helpful is knowing someone is already familiar and enthusiastically waiting to see more of your project. an added benefit is that, if you’re nervous about how your story will be received, this can be a practice run at sharing it!

THREE - advice for doing what i do:

i describe my story as historical drama, as an anti / decolonial worldbulding experiment, as being about intergenerational family and the exercise of power. so, if you’d like to enter the royal simblr genre (or thereabouts) and do something that is—i think i can say—unique, then here’s my anecdotal advice.

HAVE A STRONG INSPIRATION BASE. if you’re not faithfully basing your country on a real world location, then you should at least have a solid idea of where your inspiration is coming from. i consider my story an indigenous story, and my inspiration is mainly histories and cultures in the western hemisphere—primarily but not exclusively in what’s currently mexico and central america, plus from what’s currently the united states and also some histories of the iberian peninsula. i’m not trying to recreate any particular nation or culture, but knowing the origins of influence both helps my creations feel more cohesive and gives me a reliable source when i need inspiration.

DO YOUR RESEARCH WHEN IT MATTERS. relatedly, you can’t be inspired by the real world—by real everyday people’s real cultures—without using them respectfully. more often than not, that means doing research. i suppose i think of it as, “if someone sees themself in my story, how is that going to make them feel?” i don’t let that thought discourage me or make me fearful; i use it as motivation to ensure i’m producing good representation. i know where my expertise and personal experience end, and i’m willing to put in the work to make sure i’m not being careless. that being said, research isn’t just about cultural sensitivity! doing your research—especially for historical settings or with institutions / processes you haven’t personally dealt with, like royalty or executive governance—makes the story stronger. you don’t have to bore your readers with reams of findings or shoehorning details into places they don’t belong. understanding the context in which your story takes place will help you intuitively and subtly render the world more realistic and immersive, write characters who are more believable and engaging, and craft plots that make more logical, interesting use of the setting in which they’re unfolding.

FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR PROTAGONIST. this is obvious, but it’s especially true when you’re writing a story the way i do. my storytelling is character-driven in the sense that, more than the events of the plot, i like to focus on moments that develop the characters and their relationships. it’s also character-driven in the sense that i choose a character or two and let them drive the narrative. i just don’t have the adeptness for ensemble casts; i can’t handle the moving parts, and i naturally close in on a particular character’s emotional world rather than zooming out. to make these inclinations work, it’s key to really know your lead characters(s) and feel comfortable working inside their mind / heart. i’ve harped on this before, but motivation is the single most important thing you can know about a character. it puts you on the path to answering so many other key questions, from what their desires are to how their backstory shaped them to how they struggle in the present to what their next move is. if you love your protagonist, then thinking about these questions is more fun than burdensome.

EMBRACE THE MESS. there is a tendency to avoid messiness, one that is well-meaning but can undermine the story. if you aren’t comfortable with thematic gray areas, with unresolved loose ends, with lingering emotions, with conclusions that aren’t definitively happy, then i think you miss opportunities. these are all issues that have two sides: one is the dreaded plot hole or some equivalent writer’s mistake that leaves readers disgruntled; the other is challenging your readers and giving them intrigue to chew on, to dissect and debate, to feel as they read. my advice is that you can have contradictions and complexity and even ugliness in your story, but you have to purposefully put it there—or take control of it, if it arises on its own.

DO IT FOR YOURSELF, NOT FOR OTHER PEOPLE. at the end of the day, the story that you pour your heart into just won’t connect with or excite everyone. the characters, the plots, the world, the genres, the way you post, how you talk about the story ... it won’t always resonate the way you hope. being okay with that is what makes storytelling sustainable. sometimes i wonder why i put so much effort and thought into what i’m doing, especially when it seems like no one seems to notice. what i have to remind myself is that some people do appreciate it and, more importantly, the process brings me joy. to reference earlier advice, i’m putting effort into the parts that are my priorities, and i’ve made connections with a handful of people who give me the enthusiasm i need on days when simple enjoyment isn’t enough. “being okay with that” isn’t a permanent feeling; it’s a decision you, as a hobbyist storyteller in a casual community, have to make and remake.

it’s okay to do it for other people sometimes. i’m including this caveat because my current project is a collaboration that i started for an audience of one, and i do make a habit of trying to put a ton of effort into all of my few collaborative enterprises. one of the reasons i gravitated toward royal simblr is that it’s a very collaborative space, but i think the best ones really do build reciprocal love for someone else’s story. if you’re going to care what other people think of your work or make choices with their opinions in mind, then i suggest doing it for people who are involved—who know what your priorities are, who love your characters, and who understand what you’re trying to do well enough that their opinions actually do make the story better. like i said, we're here to have fun, to get better, to be part of something.

okay, that's it, whoever read this far down is an angel possibly with too much time on their hands. as i said at the top, happy to be a resource or a supportive voice in whatever ways are helpful ! ♥️

#idk what my tag is for this kind of thing but #thank you for asking !!!!!#love to share my opinions prompted <3

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