#i am not even going to get into who else that reminds me of

[solxamber]

Read the male incubus reader and it was so good BEHEBEBENEJEJ your so talented omg

If you can do anything else similar to that again, just a very teasing reader that knows how to fluster literally anyone of the main boys I'd be on my hands and knees cause BSBSBSA it's so good.

May you rest well pookie cause you deserve it 💪

thank you!! and sorry for the extremely long wait </3

Housewardens x Tease! Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s face turns the shade of his hair the moment your sly words slip from your lips. He tries to maintain composure, but his rigid posture betrays his inner turmoil.

“Y-you can’t just say things like that!” he stammers, voice wavering as he desperately adjusts his tie to buy time. You lean in slightly, resting your chin in your hand, eyes sparkling with mischievous glee.

“Oh? And what exactly did I say, Rosehearts? You’ll have to be specific. Otherwise, how will I know what to stop?”

Riddle sputters, gripping his teacup like it’s the last thing grounding him. “H-Have some decorum!”

You only laugh, knowing full well he’ll be replaying this moment for the rest of the week.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona scoffs when you start teasing, but the way his ears twitch betrays how much your words are getting to him.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he grumbles, trying to look annoyed.

“Clever? Oh, no. I’m just observant,” you reply, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “Like how your tail flicks every time I say your name like this—Leona.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans back with a growl. “You’ve got a death wish.”

“And you’ve got a cute blush,” you say with a grin.

Leona throws a pillow at you, grumbling about "annoying herbivores," but you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prides himself on his ability to negotiate, but you’ve got him fumbling like a first-year.

“Careful, Ashengrotto,” you tease, watching him adjust his glasses for the tenth time. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were nervous.”

“I-I am not nervous!” he protests, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing.

“Oh? Then why are you blushing?” you ask, leaning in with a smirk.

Azul stammers, frantically flipping through the paperwork on his desk. “I-I have important matters to attend to! Y-you’re dismissed!”

You laugh as you leave, knowing he’s going to be thinking about this for days.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim’s laughter is infectious, but even he can’t hide how flustered he gets under your teasing.

“You’re too sweet, Kalim,” you say, resting your chin in your hand. “Almost makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

Kalim’s eyes widen, and he fumbles with the rings on his fingers. “W-wait, really? You’d want that?”

“Of course,” you reply with a playful smirk. “Who wouldn’t?”

His face lights up like a firework, and he starts rambling. “You’re amazing! I mean, wow, I didn’t expect—wait, you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

You laugh, and Kalim joins in, even as his face remains flushed.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil tries to brush off your teasing with grace, but even he isn’t immune to your charm.

“You’re stunning as always, Vil,” you say, your voice dripping with sincerity. “It’s almost unfair to the rest of us.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replies, though the faint blush on his cheeks says otherwise.

“Oh, but I think it will,” you counter, leaning closer. “After all, you deserve to be reminded of how perfect you are.”

Vil’s composure slips for a moment, and he clears his throat. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” you reply with a wink, leaving Vil behind to regain his composure.

Idia Shroud

Idia’s hair flares neon pink the moment you start teasing, and he looks like he’s about to combust.

“Wow, Idia, you’re really cute when you’re blushing,” you say, leaning in with a smirk.

“C-cute?! Me?!” he stammers, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. “T-that’s not—I mean—w-what are you even saying?!”

“Just the truth,” you reply, watching as his hair flickers nervously.

Idia buries his face in his hands. “I’m going to die. This is it. I’m dead.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s a fun death,” you reply, and Idia groans, hiding even further in his hoodie.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is used to admiration tinged with fear, but your teasing catches him completely off guard.

“You know, Malleus, you’ve got this whole dark and brooding thing down, but I bet you’d look even cuter if you smiled more.”

Malleus blinks, clearly taken aback. “Do you truly think so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, stepping closer. “In fact, I might just have to make it my mission to see you smile every day.”

Malleus’s lips twitch upward for a brief moment before he clears his throat, his usual regal composure slipping. “You are... most peculiar.”

“And you’re most adorable when flustered,” you reply, and Malleus stares at you, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Masterlist

[sgiandubh]

Prophetic

Every single time things look hard to decipher or farcical (and this is one of those farcical times), I remember a long post by @hardblazesong, dealing with BTS aspects and the intricacies of this cesspool of a fandom. I am yet to read something more clear and more bravely stated than the things she wrote almost eight years (!) ago, even if I do not necessarily agree with everything. Especially as far as SC's sexuality is considered and examined, for example - but that is secondary, to me.

Every word in this quoted passage was confirmed by what happened next, for example. And then, some more, if at all possible:

This is exactly what happened, rinse and repeat to oblivion. 'No one above D level status', with the odd lap dancer/Hooters waitress thrown in, for variety. Gross? Effective on the short term perhaps, to quench thirsty/insistent/too close to the real thing rumors and found tidbits, yet damn penalizing on the long run. MPC's dwindling subscription figures are testimony to it, as are the mediocre projects coming his way. And now he sorely needs a seriously good one to keep his rep at a decent level. You see, the entire kilt-cladded, warrior daddy imagery/fantasy is also quietly wearing off, as OL is coming to its merciful end. But believe it or not, S will survive even this life-changing experiment with fame. The key question here is 'how' and I have no definitive answer to it. But I am confident, and this Soroptimist approach of mine will always be my guilty pleasure, as far as S is concerned. Perhaps the only one, since the guy won't ever make me turn my head for him in the street. Not even sorry about that. But as I have already told you, I do like an underdog and know how to spot them, when I see one.

Now, as far as C is concerned, the 'low key thing' turned into the perfectly artificial farce we all know about. It is my sincere belief at least 85% of her Taliban Stan crowd is simply paying lip service to what they chose to believe and are constantly being reminded of by their trolling Sopranos. So much so, in fact, that it all reeks rather of Pollyannaism than critical thinking, no matter how brutal or self-assured they may sound. And at this point in time, with zero communication on the topic and C who apparently DGAF about narrative continuity when it comes to this, it's only fair to say more oil is being quietly, constantly thrown onto those embers of suspicion and legitimate, logical doubt.

As for going political, we all saw what happened with S's Gaza comment, didn't we? Case in point to never cross obvious red lines and allow your own emotions get in a mix you cannot control and which must not have been addressed, to start with. Especially when you are, above anything else, a media product manufactured on purpose for reaching the widest potential audience. MAGA Mommies crowd included.

Also, this:

Again, this is exactly what happened, and consistently so. Proof of this are the multiple times I had to excuse myself to powder my nose in the middle of a Zoom call or meeting, whenever my cellphone was blinking with concerned messages about this or that insignificant turn of an apparently endless, boring and disingenuous AF narrative. Shippers are worried and potentially even hurt every single time a Fitness Harem representative shows up on the roster. S knows that - how could he not, he is part and parcel of it? Trolls know that: in fact, this is their bread and butter in this fandom. And the reason this happens is an unnecessarily cruel and by now pathetic bout of schizophrenic trivia deliberately being thrown in, from time to time, for... eh... for reasons. Whether this is for 'protection' (complete quiet would be way more decent and effective, I think) or diversion, or remaining relevant, or even shits and giggles is entirely secondary, one more time. These allow to address all the factions of this fandom at once, using what are by now some lazy, well-tried and accessible plot devices (SM twisting reality, cheap pap walks, timeline innuendos, etc). Again, this is wrong and harmful, in the long run. It is refusing to see the forest for the trees and completely ignore the fact this is building the wrong persona and the wrong brand. Back to that sore need for a really good project I have mentioned before and own reasoning nicely tied in, thank you.

As for how SC feel about us, shippers, I suppose things are clear. I don't think they like us, and to be blunt, how could they? Mistakes have been repeatedly made, especially when it comes to projecting going completely, tastelessly out of control, the hyper sexualization and objectivation of both S and C (naively dirty fanfic, anyone? come on, we all read it!) and the liberties some took with decency, as far as C is particularly concerned. And by this, I don't mean stalking - that is pushing Covfefe Pics really too far and being a perfect hypocrite about it, when we know the entire faction was demanding proof, on many tones & in many ways and kept on pressuring for something along those lines to happen. To me, however, the most toxic part of it was definitely Jess' unfortunate drooling all over someone else's love story. It definitely had an impact and it was definitely been used as such, until it wasn't. The rest of all that obsessive approach are just spin-offs, but the bad seeds were gleefully planted there and then.

Before landing here, I carefully weighed in my options. And I chose to be primarily interested in business and legal paperwork simply because it so happened that an irritated reaction while on an Athens taxi ride prompted my arrival here. Then I realized it was the only way to bring something new to an already stalling body of public lore and keep it simple and real. What I did discover and what the trolls across the street chose to dismiss as trash is, in fact, evidence enough of the chasm that exists between what people are being served and supposed to gobble up, no questions asked, and a reality that certainly is more nuanced. This is what really makes me tick and this is why I am still here, while there are so many more useful and enjoyable ways to keep myself busy.

Rest assured, though: I am not going anywhere, even if from time to time life and a very strenuous job take precedence. I hope you can understand this. In the meanwhile, you have been so many witty, kind and warm people coming along my path, that I would feel like betraying you (and myself!) if I went away. And no, I have never felt more sure about SC than probably now, even if this 'SC' doesn't necessarily coincide with your own version of that saga.

Newbies can read the entire @hardblazesong's post here: https://www.tumblr.com/hardblazesong/678440162606350336/the-time-has-come-shipsters-to-write-a-lengthy?source=share

Thank you for reading this very long comment, summing up all the thoughts that nagged me while I was simultaneously translating and slaloming between my two mother tongues, while in Tunis. I am rather good at compartmentalization, you see. This post is also a clumsy homage of sorts to all the brilliant, brave and bold women, past and present, of The Shire, who have tried and managed to see beyond the thick veil of deceit this entire #shitshow is. The fact so many of us, across so many cultures and personal circumstances, saw the same damn thing and questioned it with integrity and wit, should be arresting evidence there are more things.

PS: I think we can all agree on the fact the Biggest Troll in this fandom is 'Erself, the Flip-Flop Blue Nailpolish Goddess. But that's a different story.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 29 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇marriage woo

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The morning sun bathed the palace in a golden glow, the halls bustling with servants preparing for the grand occasion. It was finally the day of Telemachus and Y/N’s wedding, and the prince’s room was a chaotic mess of clothes, half-finished food, and an anxious groom pacing back and forth. “Would you stop moving already?” Acrisios groaned, sitting on a nearby stool, lazily polishing the prince’s ceremonial sandals. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor before you even make it to the altar.”

Telemachus shot him a glare, adjusting the hem of his intricate tunic for the fifth time. The deep royal blue fabric with golden embroidery symbolized his position as Ithaca’s prince and soon-to-be king, but it felt suffocating in the moment. “Do you even understand how nerve-wracking this is?!” Telemachus snapped, running a hand through his hair, which Acrisios had painstakingly styled. “This is the biggest day of my life! What if I trip? What if the people don’t approve? What if I—”

“What if you stop whining and let me do my job as your best man?” Acrisios interrupted with a smirk. He stood and shoved the sandals into Telemachus’s chest. “Put these on before you give me a headache.”

Telemachus huffed but obeyed, sitting down and sliding his feet into the sandals. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he grumbled. “It’s my wedding, Acrisios.”

“And you’re acting like it’s your funeral,” Acrisios shot back. “You’re marrying Y/N, not marching into war. You’ve been dreaming about this for months. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Telemachus paused, his hands stilling on the straps of his sandals. A small, nervous smile tugged at his lips. “I am happy,” he admitted. “I love her. I just… I want everything to be perfect.”

Acrisios clapped a hand on his shoulder, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. “You’re marrying y/n. To her, you’re already perfect, even if you somehow trip over your own feet walking down the aisle.”

Telemachus groaned, swatting his hand away. “You’re terrible at pep talks.”

“And yet, here I am, dealing with your royal tantrum,” Acrisios teased, stepping back to inspect him. “Now, stand up. Let me see how you look.”

Telemachus stood, awkwardly brushing at his tunic and trying to look regal. Acrisios tilted his head, pretending to scrutinize him with exaggerated seriousness. “Hmm… not bad. You almost look like a king.”

“Almost?” Telemachus raised an eyebrow.

“Well, let’s be honest, you’ll still look like a slob in her eyes,” Acrisios quipped with a grin. “But hey, at least you’ve got me here to make you look half-decent.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face. “Remind me again why I made you my best man?”

“Because no one else would put up with your whining,” Acrisios said, tossing him the ceremonial belt. “Now hurry up. You’ve got a wedding to survive, Your Highness.”

Telemachus finished fastening the belt, his nerves slowly being replaced with excitement. As he straightened his posture, a knock sounded at the door. A servant peeked in, bowing slightly. “Prince Telemachus, it’s time.”

Telemachus’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to Acrisios, who gave him a mock salute. “Go get her, stable boy.” With a deep breath, Telemachus nodded and stepped toward the door, his best man following close behind. Today, he wasn’t just a prince. He was a groom, a future king, and, most importantly, hers forever.

——

Y/N stood in her room, her fingers trembling as they traced the intricate floral embroidery on her white and gold wedding dress. The fabric clung delicately to her, cascading down like a waterfall of sunlight, and yet, the weight of the day seemed heavier than the gown itself. Her heart pounded as servants bustled around her, adjusting her veil and fastening her jewelry.

“Stop fidgeting,” Lethea’s soft, steady voice cut through the chaos, and she turned to see her best woman standing by the door, calm and collected as always. Lethea stepped closer. Even now, with just a few loose strands framing her face, she exuded poise and grace in her pale lavender gown. Her every movement was measured, like a hymn in motion, and her composure was a stark contrast to Y/N’s restless energy.

She let out a nervous laugh. “I can’t help it, Lethea. I feel like I’m about to walk into battle, not my wedding.”

Lethea raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Y/n, you’ve faced Antinous in a full-blown argument, Telemachus’s sulking, and a whole house full of suitors trying to make you miserable. And you’re worried about walking down an aisle?”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “That’s different! What if I trip? Or what if Telemachus gets cold feet? Or—”

“—what if I calmly remind you that Telemachus is probably more of a nervous wreck than you are right now?” Lethea interjected smoothly, her tone light with amusement.

She peeked at her through her fingers. “You think so?”

Lethea smirked faintly, adjusting her veil with practiced ease. “I know so. Acrisios is probably dragging him to the altar kicking and screaming by now.”

At that, she couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Marrying a prince, becoming royalty—it all feels so… surreal.”

Lethea took a step back, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s more than just becoming royalty. It’s about building a life with someone you love. And you love Telemachus, don’t you?”

She nodded, her cheeks warming. “I do. He’s… everything to me.”

Lethea’s eyes softened as she handed y/n her bouquet of fresh lilies and violets. “Then that’s all that matters. The rest will fall into place.”

She held the bouquet close, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Lethea. You always know exactly what to say.”

“Someone has to keep you from spiraling,” Lethea teased, stepping to her side. “Now, let’s get you ready to face the crowd. And no more fidgeting. You’re a bride, not a scared little girl.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but a genuine smile spread across her face. As she glanced at Lethea, she suddenly realized how serene and supportive her friend was, even in moments like these. “You know,” she said with a sly grin, “when are you going to get married? Maybe to a certain sailor who’s been mooning over you for months?”

Lethea’s poise cracked for just a second, her cheeks faintly pink as she cleared her throat. “This isn’t about me,” she said curtly, her voice betraying a flicker of embarrassment. “Focus on not tripping in front of Ithaca, y/n.”

Pandora took a deep breath, her nerves melting into a quiet confidence. With Lethea by her side, she felt ready to face anything—even the overwhelming emotions of her wedding day.

——

The grand hall of the palace was bathed in golden sunlight as it streamed through the high windows, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries that adorned the room. Ithaca’s most esteemed nobles and citizens were gathered, their murmurs of anticipation filling the air. At the center of it all, standing before a grand altar, was Telemachus. He fidgeted nervously, pulling at the collar of his royal tunic. Acrisios leaned over from his spot as best man, smirking. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

“Shut up,” Telemachus muttered under his breath, trying to appear composed as sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You’re about to be king, Telemachus. Try not to look like a scared boy,” Acrisios teased, though his tone carried a thread of genuine support.

The soft sound of a harp echoed through the hall, and the crowd’s chatter fell silent. All eyes turned to the entrance as Y/N stepped in, her arm gently linked with Penelope’s, who had insisted on walking her soon to be daughter-in-law down the aisle. She looked radiant. Her dress shimmered with every step, the golden embroidery catching the light. Her veil framed her face, but it couldn’t hide the nervous smile or the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes. She caught Telemachus’s gaze, and in that moment, her anxiety melted away.

Telemachus’s breath hitched as he watched her approach. Acrisios leaned closer and whispered, “Breathe, Telemachus. Don’t pass out before she gets here.”

“I’m fine,” Telemachus whispered back, his voice cracking slightly.

When she finally reached him, Penelope placed her hand over theirs, a soft smile gracing her lips. She whispered something to both of them, her voice too low for the audience to hear, before stepping back. The priest began the ceremony, his deep voice echoing through the hall. As he spoke of love, unity, and duty, her and Telemachus exchanged shy glances, their hands lightly trembling as they held onto one another.

When it came time for the vows, Telemachus cleared his throat, his voice steadier than he expected. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’ve been my anchor, my light, and my strength. I promise to honor you, protect you, and love you for all the days of my life.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she squeezed his hands. “Telemachus, you’ve shown me a love I didn’t think I deserved. You’ve stood by me, even when I couldn’t stand on my own. I promise to be your partner, your supporter, and your safe place, now and forever.”

The priest blessed their union, and the crowd erupted in cheers as Telemachus leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was sweet and gentle, but also filled with the promise of a future they were ready to face together. From the side, Acrisios clapped, grinning ear to ear, though he leaned over to Lethea and whispered, “Well, there goes my friend. Married and royal now. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

Lethea rolled her eyes, hiding a faint smile behind her hand. “Try not to ruin the moment, Acrisios.”

As Telemachus and her turned to face the crowd, the palace erupted in celebration. Musicians began playing, flowers were tossed in the air, and the people of Ithaca cheered for their new king and queen.

Telemachus looked down at her, his heart full. “We did it. We’re actually married.”

She smiled up at him, her hand slipping into his. “We are.”

——

The moon hung high over the palace, casting a soft silver glow over the stone halls. The wedding feast was still alive with music and laughter, but y/n had slipped away, a small slice of the wedding cake balanced carefully on a golden plate. She navigated the quiet, shadowed corridors with ease, her bare feet soft against the cold stone floors. She carried a lantern, its gentle flicker lighting her way down to the dungeon.

The guards nodded to her as she approached, recognizing her at once. She gave them a polite smile before they stepped aside, allowing her entry. Her heart thudded quietly as she descended the spiral staircase, the air growing cooler and heavier with each step. When she reached Antinous’s cell, she saw her brother lounging lazily against the wall, his hands chained but his posture still defiant. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing briefly before softening when he saw her.

“Well, well,” Antinous drawled, sitting up straighter. “The bride herself. What are you doing down here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be upstairs, dancing and celebrating your big day?”

She ignored his teasing tone and stepped closer, pushing the plate through the bars. “I brought you some cake,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with guilt.

Antinous raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cake and then back at her. “Cake? How generous of my new king to spare me a slice,” he said sarcastically, but there was a hint of appreciation in his voice as he reached for it. “You’re lucky I’m starving.”

She leaned her forehead against the cool iron bars, watching him carefully. “I always imagined you’d be there,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her emotions. “That you’d walk me down the aisle. That you’d… give me away.”

Antinous froze mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air. His sharp, piercing eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, his usual smirk faded. “Y/n…” he began, his voice unusually soft, but he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he sighed, setting the plate down beside him.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “But I used to picture it all the time when we were younger. You in something ridiculous and formal, grumbling about how much you hated it but still standing there because you’re my brother.” She laughed weakly, wiping at her eyes. “And now, I’m married, and you’re… here.”

Antinous looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back against the wall, his usual sarcasm returning like a shield. “Well, we can still make it happen. I’ll get a nice set of chains polished up, and you can parade me down the aisle next time. Very regal.”

She gave him a sharp glare, though it was half-hearted. “Don’t joke about this,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s not fair, Antinous. You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be there for me.”

His smirk faltered again, and he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his dark hair. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “I’ve done a lot of things—most of them bad. I don’t deserve to stand beside you on your big day. Hell, I don’t deserve that cake you just gave me.” He gestured toward the slice. “But… I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve that. Even if it’s with Telemachus.” He rolled his eyes slightly at the last part but softened when he saw her tear streaked face.

“I don’t care about what you’ve done,” she whispered fiercely, gripping the bars. “You’re still my brother. You’re all I have left of our family. Don’t you get that?”

Antinous stared at her for a moment, the vulnerability in her voice breaking through his defenses. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers through the bars. “You’re stronger than you think, N/N,” he said softly. “You don’t need me.”

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll always need you. No matter what happens.”

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, the silence heavy but comforting. Finally, Antinous smirked again, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Go back to your husband before he starts a search party. Telemachus doesn’t seem the type to handle being abandoned well, given the whole daddy situation.

She let out a small laugh, wiping her eyes again. “You’re probably right.” She stepped back, her hand lingering on the bars for a moment before she turned to leave. As she walked back up the stairs, her heart felt heavier than ever, torn between the life she was starting and the brother she couldn’t leave behind. She lingered by the iron bars for a moment longer, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her heart. She turned back to face Antinous, who was still sitting on the cold stone floor, absentmindedly poking at the slice of cake she’d brought him.

“You know,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head at him, “you could at least try to look a little happier about all this. After all, Telemachus is your brother-in-law now.”

Antinous froze mid bite, his fork hovering in the air. Slowly, he set it down, looking up at her with a glare sharp enough to cut through stone. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

Pandora grinned, her teasing gaining momentum. “Oh, but it’s true! You’re stuck with him now, Antinous. Family dinners are going to be so much fun. Just imagine, the two of you bonding over shared memories, bickering like proper brothers—”

“Y/N,” Antinous interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, “if you don’t stop, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Climb out of the dungeon?” she shot back, her grin widening. “Face it, big brother. Telemachus is officially part of the family. I can already picture the holidays. You, sulking in the corner while Telemachus tells that story about the time you got punched in the face by a cow—”

“That cow came out of nowhere!” Antinous snapped, his cheeks flushing as he scowled at her. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to play nice with him, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Oh, come on,” she teased, leaning closer to the bars. “You already did when you didn’t kill him the moment he walked into the palace. That’s practically a declaration of brotherly love!”

Antinous groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you so much right now. don’t get your hopes up, y/n. Just because I let him live doesn’t mean I’m going to start liking the guy. Especially not after he’s made my life hell just by existing.” Antinous looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Runs in the family,” she said with a wink. She took a step back, her smile fading into something softer. “I’ll see you soon, Antinous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving her off. But as she turned and walked back up the stairs, he watched her go with a faint, lingering smirk, muttering under his breath, “Brother-in-law. Gods help me.”

——

She pushed open the door to Telemachus’s room quietly, hoping to slip in unnoticed. She froze when she saw him pacing back and forth, his wedding robe slightly undone, his brow furrowed in frustration. The moment the door creaked, his head snapped up, and his worried expression quickly turned into anger.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

She hesitated, fidgeting with the folds of her gown. “I was… around,” she said evasively, trying to sidestep him, but Telemachus blocked her path.

“Don’t,” he said sternly, his jaw tightening. “Don’t give me that. You disappeared during our wedding, y/n. Tell me where you went.”

She sighed, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze defiantly. “I went to see Antinous.”

The room fell silent. Telemachus stared at her as if she’d just confessed to betraying him to the suitors. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his voice dropped, dangerously quiet. “You left our wedding… to go visit him? Y/n, tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” she said, standing her ground. “He’s my brother, Telemachus. I couldn’t just leave him down there without checking on him.”

Telemachus’s face twisted with fury, and he let out a harsh laugh. “Your brother? The same man who wanted me dead? The same man who conspired with the suitors to kill me and take my mother as his wife? That’s who you left our wedding to go see?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I went!” She snapped, her own temper flaring. “He’s still my blood, Telemachus. He’s all I have left from my family, and I can’t just abandon him, no matter what he’s done.”

“All you have left?” Telemachus repeated bitterly, taking a step closer to her. “What about me, y/n? What about us? Am I not enough for you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice softening slightly, but Telemachus wasn’t done.

“You’ve defended him every step of the way, even after everything he did to me, to my family,” he spat. “And now, on the day we’re supposed to start our lives together, you chose him over me.”

“I didn’t choose him over you!” She shot back. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay! He’s locked in a dungeon, Telemachus—”

“Where he belongs!” Telemachus roared, his voice echoing off the walls. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself. “Gods, y/n. I’ve put up with so much for you. I’ve bitten my tongue, tried to accept him, even when every fiber of my being hates him. And this… this feels like a slap in the face.”

Her anger faltered, guilt creeping into her expression. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said quietly. “I just… I can’t stop caring about him, no matter what he’s done. He’s my brother, Telemachus. I can’t turn that off.”

Telemachus let out a heavy sigh, turning away from her and leaning against the wall. “We get that he’s your fucking brother, just…just leave me alone for now y/n.”

——

The wedding feast was in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the grand hall as guests toasted to the newlyweds. Musicians played lively tunes, and servants rushed about with trays of wine and platters of food. But at the head of the table, Telemachus sat stiffly, his jaw tight as he pushed the food around on his plate. Beside him, y/n fidgeted, her gaze avoiding his. Their odd behavior didn’t go unnoticed. Acrisios, standing off to the side with a goblet of wine, watched them with raised eyebrows. He muttered to himself, “Newlyweds, huh? They look like they’re plotting each other’s murder.” After another moment of observation, he sighed, setting his drink down and making his way over to Telemachus.

“Alright, out with it,” Acrisios said, leaning casually against the table next to Telemachus. “You’ve been sitting here looking like someone spat in your wine. What’s wrong?”

Telemachus glanced at Acrisios, his scowl deepening. “Nothing,” he grumbled, clearly lying.

“Uh-huh,” Acrisios said, unconvinced. He nodded toward y/n, who was picking at her food with the same level of enthusiasm. “So nothing just happens to involve the fact that you and your lovely bride haven’t exchanged two words since the ceremony?”

Telemachus groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you not?” he muttered.

“Oh, I can not,” Acrisios said with a smirk. “But I’m going to anyway. What’s going on? Did she step on your foot during the first dance? Did you spill wine on her dress? What?”

Telemachus glared at him but then let out a heavy sigh. “She went to see Antinous during the wedding,” he muttered under his breath.

Acrisios froze for a second, then let out a loud, incredulous laugh. “You’re kidding me!” he said, clutching his stomach. “She left her own wedding to visit the guy who tried to kill you? That’s… wow, that’s rich.”

“Shut up,” Telemachus hissed, his face reddening as a few nearby guests glanced their way.

Acrisios ignored him, still chuckling. “Gods, Telemachus, no wonder you’re sulking. I’d be pissed too. But hey, at least she came back, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

“She shouldn’t have gone in the first place,” Telemachus snapped, his voice low but sharp. “It’s like she doesn’t even realize how much he hates me.”

“Or how much you hate him,” Acrisios pointed out with a grin. “Which, let’s be honest, is kind of impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you to hold a grudge this long.”

Telemachus shot him a dark look. “Not the time, Acrisios.”

“Alright, alright,” Acrisios said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Look, I get it. You’re mad. But maybe you should just talk to her instead of sitting here glaring at your plate. You know, like an adult?”

Telemachus grumbled something unintelligible but didn’t respond. Acrisios sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good luck, buddy. You’re gonna need it. And hey, if you need me, I’ll be over there trying not to embarrass myself in front of Lethea.”

——

The feast was winding down, the wine flowing freely as the guests celebrated well into the night. Telemachus had slipped away from the hall, his frustration boiling over. He stood outside on the terrace, gripping the stone railing tightly as he stared out at the moonlit ocean. His jaw was clenched, his breathing uneven. He’d thought this day would be perfect, a new start with Pandora, but her decision to sneak away during the wedding to see Antinous had left him furious.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you, my boy,” a gruff voice said behind him.

Telemachus turned to see his father, Odysseus, approaching with a goblet in hand. The older man studied his son for a moment before leaning against the railing beside him. “Let me guess,” Odysseus said, his tone dry. “It’s about your wife.”

Telemachus sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “She went to see him, Father. During our wedding. She left to visit Antinous, and I— I can’t understand why she’d do that.”

Odysseus’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around his goblet. “Antinous,” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “That snake. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”

“I know,” Telemachus muttered. “But she begged me to spare him, and… I couldn’t say no to her.”

Odysseus snorted, shaking his head. “That girl has a soft spot for the wrong people. First her brother, and now…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s a fool if she doesn’t see how dangerous he is.”

Telemachus looked down at his hands, his frustration giving way to doubt. “Do you think I made a mistake, Father? Marrying her?”

Odysseus was quiet for a moment, then placed a firm hand on Telemachus’s shoulder. “No,” he said gruffly. “You love her, don’t you?”

Telemachus nodded. “More than anything.”

“Then you didn’t make a mistake,” Odysseus said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to put up with her running off to see that bastard. She needs to understand where her loyalties lie now. She’s your wife. Her place is with you.” As if summoned by their conversation, y/n appeared at the edge of the terrace, her expression hesitant. She had shed her wedding veil, her hair cascading freely over her shoulders. She looked between father and son, her gaze lingering on Telemachus.

“I was looking for you,” she said softly, stepping closer.

Odysseus turned to face her fully, his eyes cold. “And why aren’t you with your husband?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “Or have you already had your fill of running off to see that snake of a brother of yours?”

She flinched at his words, her eyes widening. “I— I just wanted to—”

“You just wanted to what?” Odysseus cut in, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much shame you’ve brought to him today? To this family? My son deserves better than a wife who abandons him on their wedding day to visit the man who’s tried to kill him!”

“Father,” Telemachus said sharply, stepping between them. “That’s enough.”

Odysseus’s eyes flicked to his son, his expression softening slightly. “You’re too kind to her, Telemachus,” he muttered. “But fine. She’s your problem now.” He turned back to her, his gaze hard. “Remember this, you’re part of this family now. Act like it.”

With that, he brushed past her, leaving her alone with Telemachus. She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I couldn’t help myself. I had to see him.”

Telemachus sighed, his anger deflating as he pulled her into his arms. “Y/n, I get that you love him. He’s your brother, and you care about him. But you have to understand how it looks. How it feels. It’s our wedding day. Our day. And you left me.”

“I know,” she said, her voice cracking. “I know, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, Telemachus. I promise.”

He kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly. “You’d better not,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Because I won’t forgive you so easily next time.”

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

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@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk

@h0ne4bee @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[flowery-mess]

crossing the wrong line

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / alcohol / mentions of drugs / getting drugged by a stranger / unwanted physical touch (hand on waist, grabbing a wrist) / physical violence / blood / throwing up / please let me know if I should tag anything else or change something in the story!

Words: 3,4k

‼️ Author's note: Please take a moment to consider whether this story is something you wish to read. The choice to engage with this content is entirely yours, and I am not responsible for what you choose to read on the internet. By proceeding, you acknowledge that the decision is your own, and I waive any responsibility for your choice to continue.

Especially with this chapter a reminder: This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person.

frat boy Noah masterlist

"Are you leaving with Noah tonight, again?” Molly asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“Stop it Molly.” Clara shushed her. Molly hated what you had with Noah from the beginning and Clara didn’t really care. She said she’s happy if you’re happy, so until Noah hurts you, she won't judge what you two have.

“You know, if you gave him a chance and maybe talked to him for a minute you'd find out he's not that terrible and then maybe he could tell his friend that you stare at everyday about you.” you snapped back, not wanting to be rude, but she was eyeing one of Noah’s friends for a while now, so you just wanted her to know that you’re not the only one interested in a frat boy.

“I’m not staring!”

“Oh you are.” Clara joined the conversation again, scrolling through her phone, but stating the obvious facts.

Molly didn’t have anything more to say, probably feeling a bit embarrassed that she didn’t hide her crush as well as she thought.

“Let’s go so we’re not late.” Clara pushed you both out of the door, tired from this conversation that was repeating every week before you went out.

-------

Tonight’s party was different, bigger. It was the 60th anniversary of the fraternity Noah was a part of and they went big.

Gallons of alcohol, 6 beer pong tables, uncountable number of red plastic cups and matching t-shirts.

“I swear these fraternity boys are weirdos.” Molly mumbled under her breath as their big shared house came into your view. You had to agree, most of the guys were maybe too much invested in being “brothers” it was creepy. But then there was Noah and his friends, who you wouldn’t guess were part of this fraternity thing. When you asked Noah why he was part of it, he just said that some of the boys wanted to be part of it and the rest just went with it.

You decided to stay outside at their front yard, because the house was full of people and you wanted to be able to breathe fresh air. Clara grabbed the first drinks she could for all three of you, her anxiety getting the best of her – she chugged the whole drink in a second and went to grab another one.

“Well, that’s going to be interesting.” Molly was watching Clara with shock in her eyes, knowing very well that if you leave with Noah, it’s gonna be just her who’s going to have to take Clara back to the dorm.

You found some of your classmates and chatted with them for a bit, then you went inside to find a bathroom to have a minute for yourself.

When you were walking down the stairs you scanned the inside of the big house, looking for Noah. You saw some of his friends, but not him. Maybe he’s not here yet, or maybe he’s not coming tonight at all.

You were fascinated by the number of strangers, wondering where they came from.

Your thoughts were shut of by group of frat boys chanting their pledge next to the stairs and you decided it was time to go outside again.

You didn’t find Molly and Clara where you left them, not that it surprised you. You checked your phone to see if either of them thought that texting you where they went was good idea, but you didn’t see any new notifications.

You started looking for them on your own, occasionally stopping some of the people you knew to ask if they haven’t seen them. No one helped you, until Tim from your English class said he saw them at the bonfire with some guys.

“What guys?”

“I don’t know Ella, but that’s where I saw them like a minute ago.” Tim looked like he’d rather be anywhere else the at this party and honestly you didn’t blame him.

“Okay Tim, thanks.” you gave him a little wave and started walking in the direction of the bonfire.

You expected to see Molly and Clara with some boys from school, but you didn’t know any of the faces your friends were surrounded with.

When drunk Clara spotted you, she stood up and almost fell into your arms.

“Hey guys, this is Ella!” she yelled at them, her finger pointing at you. Suddenly four pairs of eyes were looking at you, one of them being Molly.

“Oh finally,” one of the boys stood up and started walking towards you and Clara, who was holding onto you for her dear life. “I’m Josh, nice to meet you.” He shot you a smile with perfect white teeth.

“Hi, I’m Ella.” you shook his hand, he took the chance to grab it and lead you to sit next to him.

You were still very confused why you were hanging out with those boys and why did Josh looked really happy to see you finally come to meet them.

“So, who are you guys?” you asked them, trying to give Molly a ‘what the hell?’ look, but she looked like she lost herself in Justin’s eyes. Justin was the boy next to Molly and Samuel was the third guy by Clara's side. If anyone who didn’t know you would see you like this, they could’ve thought you’re three happy couples hanging out in the backyard.

“We’re not from here, we were invited by some of our friends to this party.” Samuel said some names of boys from the fraternity which you didn’t know, so you just nodded and sipped your drink, cursing yourself for not getting something stronger than prosecco.

“So, you’re Ella.” Josh turned his attention fully to you, his eyes scanning your whole body.

“That I am.” you shrugged down the weird feeling from his gaze and tried to give him a polite smile.

“What’s your major?”

“Neuropsychology.” At which Josh started laughing, “What’s funny about neuropsychology?”

“Oh sorry, nothing. Just seems like all of the girls are into psychology these days.”

“What’s your major?”

“Structural engineering. Really perspective direction. My dad has a company so I already have a job secured there. I’m gonna take over the company in the future.” Josh said with a proud smirk.

“And that should impress me?” before he could give you an answer you didn’t even want to hear, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. “Sorry.” you excused yourself and moved a bit away from Josh to make some space for yourself.

“I’m late for once and you already found someone else? Ouch.”  from Noah. You knew he was joking, before answering his text you looked around to find him, but you didn’t have any luck.

“I think Josh is going to make me promise I’ll be his assistant when he’s CEO of daddy’s company. Help me.” you sent back, only then noticing that Josh was talking to you again.

“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” you noticed how Josh closed the gap between you two, “What did you ask?”

“I asked if you live around here?”

“Yeah, pretty close.” you really didn’t feel like sharing your address with Josh. He just nodded, took a sip from his beer and then looked at Molly and Clara who were probably genuinely interested in his friends.

“Are your friends single? Looks like they get along, maybe we’re looking at future couples.”

“Yeah well, maybe. Hard to tell when Clara is drunk as hell.” you were worried for her, she was a light weigh and she already looked like she had enough. “I think I’m gonna grab myself another drink and water for Clara.”

Before you had the chance to stand up Josh grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, slipping your hand away from his. You liked your personal space and Josh was still a stranger, so he shouldn’t be touching you.

“I can grab it for both of you.” he offered.

“No that’s fine, I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

“I can go with you, hold the drinks.”

“Thanks Josh, but I can handle it myself.” and before he could speak up again you left.

For the first time that night you felt grateful for the full house, it gave you comfortable feeling of anonymity and Josh smaller chance to find you.

When you were moving around the kitchen, bottle of water for Clara already waiting for you at the counter, Noah entered the room.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted you with one of his smiles, his mood happier than usual.

“What’s gotten you into this happy mood, Mr. I’m late for once?”

“I don’t know, can’t I have a good day?” Noah shrugged his shoulders, arms crossed on his chest.

He was wearing black shorts and basic white t-shirt, his hair framing his face and his eyes set on you. You found him attractive, of course, but when he was smiley like this, he was adorable.

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“You’re cute when you’re happy like this, even though is suspicious.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, you’re not usually this happy.” you mixed your drink between talking to him, “but I like it.”

There was a silence for a minute, before Noah spoke again. “So, who’s your new boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. “I left Clara and Molly for a second and when I found them they already had a company. Josh is not good conversation buddy, but I can’t leave them alone. Clara is done, she needs water.”

“Who are they? I haven’t seen them around.”

“Yeah, they’re not from here, but they said some of the guys invited them here for this party.”

“Okay, I’ll ask around.”

“Okay.” you stood with water and your drink ready, looking at Noah if he needs anything else.

“See ya Ell.” he waved his hand at you and disappeared.

-------

“Come on Clara, drink this, please.” as you predicted, Clara didn’t want to drink anything else than alcohol, so it took you few minutes to convince her, but with Samuel’s help you talked her into it.

“Maybe we should take her home.” Molly suggested.

“No! No, no, nooo! I don’t want to leave yet!” Clara protested, but promised to drink another bottle of water if you’ll let her stay.

You really wanted an excuse to run away from those three bachelors, but drunk Clara was oblivious to that, so you ended up next to Josh once again.

Sipping on your drink you continued to listen half way to him mansplaining something to you. You didn’t really care, so you just nodded and made “mhm” sound once in a while.

After while of his non ending monologue you noticed your head started feeling a bit weird. Your vision was blurry for a second and then it went away, but it repeated few times more. Josh’s voice suddenly felt like he was talking from afar, which was weird considering he was shifting closer and closer to you any chance he got.

“I think I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” as you stood up your vision became even more blurry, you didn’t hear Josh asking you if you need help and just headed straight for the bathroom.

Inside the house you looked around, you could see people dancing in the living room, but you didn’t see their faces, they were blurry. Complete silence in your head was changing to extremely loud sounds in seconds.

You found the bathroom on the main floor and went for the door handle, but you touched the wall next to the door.

“Hi Ella.” you heard your name and turned your head in the direction of the voice, but again, you couldn’t see the face straight. You knew it was man with long hair. Matt? Nick? Not Jolly, he would be taller. “Are you okay?” you heard that voice again.

“Ye-yeah.” you went for the handle again and finally found it. You quickly closed the door behind you and slid down.

Looking around the small bathroom you started to feel tears forming in your eyes. You felt scared, you didn’t know what was wrong with your body. You couldn’t see straight and you were starting to feel sick.

You wanted to text Molly, but that wasn’t possible.

You heard two loud bangs on the door you were leaning against and then another male voice “Ella are you okay? Let me in.”

Josh, it was Josh. You really didn’t want him to help you in this state you were currently in, but you also felt like your heart is going to explode from the anxiety.

You moved away from the door and opened it for Josh.

“Hey, there you are, are you okay?” he kneeled down to your level.

“No, no. Josh something is wrong with me.” at that point you felt like you’re either gonna cry or throw up, and you didn’t want to do either.

“Come on, let’s take you somewhere quieter.” Josh said and started pulling you up to your legs.

“Wait, Clara and Molly?” you couldn’t even put a full sentence together, but you wanted your friends.

“They’re still with Sam and Justin, we don’t have to disturb them. I can take care of you.” he gently pushed you out of the bathroom and put one of his hands around your waist.

In that moment you started panicking, looking for any familiar face so you didn’t have to leave with Josh. You knew most of the fraternity boys knew you were hanging out with Noah, so you knew if you’d asked them for help, they would help you. Or if they thought you’re “cheating” on Noah and wanted to confront you, you’d take that as a help too.

“Don’t touch me Josh, please.” you attempted to push his hand away, but his grip on your only got tighter as you were almost at the front door.

The chances of someone stopping you until you leave the house were small now and you heard Josh call a cab for you and him to an address you didn’t know.

“Josh I want to stay.”

“You need to lay down and need someone to look after you. I’ll take ca-“

“What the fuck man!” you heard someone approaching you. Josh stopped walking and turned you both around.

That was when you saw Noah, crossing the path in long strides to where you and Josh were currently standing.

“What do you want?” Josh spat back.

“Where do you think you’re taking her?”

“That’s none of your business man, find another one.” Josh turned you both around again and continued walking.

'Find another one.' replayed in Noah's head one more time, no way he's gonna let somene talk about you like that.

“I swear if you make another step I’ll kill you.” Noah was furious, because he knew. He saw your face full of fear and those empty eyes. Josh put drugs in your drink and now was making you leave with him. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Noah’s chest was going up and down, his eyes dark and full of anger and his hands turned quickly into fists at his side.

People started looking in your direction, that obviously made Josh nervous, „I didn’t do anything man, she’s drunk and she needs to leave.”

“No, you need to leave her alone before I’ll kill you.” you wanted to run to Noah, but your legs couldn’t move. You tried to push Josh away once more, but he grabbed you by your wrist and you let out a wince, which was Noah’s final straw.

When he saw the face you made when Josh grabbed your waist, he lost it. He saw black. He made two long steps and pushed Josh with full force.

Josh was shocked and let go of your hand, your legs finally moving away from him, leaving Noah and Josh behind you. You looked around and saw all the people watching what was happening, but you only wanted to see two faces. Molly and Clare.

“Come here Elle.” Nick, one of Noah’s friend told you and put his arm around your waist to stabilize you and took you back inside the house, meanwhile Matt went to find your friends.

--------

“You fucking bastard!” Noah grunted as his fist made contact with Josh’s nose.

Red blood started running down his chin, but Noah couldn’t care less. He pushed Josh again, this time he fell on his ass and Noah took that as a chance to finish this on the ground.

He grabbed him by his collar and yelled “What did you gave her?” in his face.

Josh knew he fucked up, so he stayed silent, only grunting from the pain Noah was causing him.

When Jost stayed silent, Noah didn’t waste any more time on trying to talk to him and punched him more, until he was satisfied with the black eye and busted lip he gave him.

When he stood up, he looked Josh dead in the eyes and said “If I ever see you or your friends here again, you’re dead. Don’t you dare to touch her or any other woman like that again, fucker.”

Everyone stood and watched with their mouths open. On his way back inside Noah got few slaps on his back, but he only wanted to see you, if you’re okay.

He knew Nicholas took you to his room, so that’s where he headed.

-------

“I’m sorry Ell, I’m so sorry it’s my fault.” Molly sobbed next to you, blaming herself for getting you in danger.

Clara was still drunk, but also shocked from the whole thing, so she was sitting on Nick’s bed, tears running down her face. Both of them were pretty drunk, but thankfully not drugged like you.

You were throwing up, mostly from the sick feeling of what could’ve happen. You heard the door to Nick’s room open and heard Clara say “Oh god.”

She saw Noah in the doorway, with blood on his hands and his white t-shirt, his happy mood long gone.

“Shit man, did you kill him?” Matt asked seriously.

“Where is she?” was Noah’s only concern and Matt nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

Nick stood up and left when he saw Noah, but Molly stayed by your side.

“Leave Molly.”

“No, she’s my best friend and I’m going to take care of her.” she protested.

“Listen, I know you hate me, but I’m full of this bullshit tonight. You’re drunk and so is Clara, so either Matt or Nick is going to take you both to your dorm okay? I’m gonna take care of Ella.”

“But-“

“Shut up Molly, really. Just go.”

And she did, because deep down she knew Noah was right. She was drunk and he wasn’t.

------------------

When everyone left Nick’s room to give you some space, Noah knelt next to you and held you hair.

When you stopped throwing up, Noah helped you to his car and drove you both to his place.

You were silent the whole time, neither of you starting a conversation.

You were feeling much better after you threw up everything, but you still felt dizzy and tired.

“You can take shower and then go to bed, okay?” Noah led you to his bathroom when you entered his apartment, like you were at there for the first time ever, “Are you hungry? Do you want water? Anything else?”

“No.” you spoke finally, your voice hoarse.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you in the bedroom, take your time.”

You spent half an hour in the shower, crying and trying to wash off Josh’s hand from your body. When you felt like there was no more energy in you, you stepped out of the shower stall and dried yourself off.

You opened the door and Noah took that as sign to walk into the bathroom. He helped you wash off the rest of your make up and detangle your hair. He hated the empty look in your eyes when he glanced at you in the mirror.

"I'm sorry I didn't frag you away earlier, I should know they were dangerous. They are strangers, I should have told you something. I'm sorry Ella."

Noah felt guilty, but you didn't want him to. You wouldn't have listened to him if he told you to not talk to them.

Noah gave you his t-shirt to change into and then you went straight for the bed.

“Do you feel better?” Noah asked before he helped you slide under the covers.

“Yes.” you looked at him properly for the first time since the fight and saw all the blood, “Oh god you look horrible.”

“You should see the other guy.” Noah tried to crack a joke to ease your mood and it helped. You gave him small smile and told him to go shower.

When he laid next to you, you were almost asleep.

“Thank you Noah.” it was short, but he knew exactly what you meant.

You two weren’t in love, but you had some kind of relationship, even if it was just having sex.

He couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.

He held you that night, even when you woke up crying and pushing him away.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

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[jinxedshapeshifter]

Why Kristoph Gavin Is Like That: An Essay

Alright so common sentiments I've seen regarding Kristoph are "Why is he like that" and "I want to study him in a lab" and I am a psychology nerd, so I decided to analyze Kristoph. Obligatory disclaimer: I am not a psychologist. Wanting to analyze Kristoph's behavior may or may not have gotten me interested in criminal and forensic psychology but I am not a psychologist. I am simply a guy who likes to psychoanalyze fictional characters from the most clinical perspective I can get to without actually being a psychologist. So let's begin.

Part 1: Diagnosing Kristoph Gavin

The thing about Kristoph is I think to fundamentally understand him, you need to diagnose him. In fact, I haven't posted my analysis of Kristoph's black Psyche-Locks because of it. As I said, I'm not a psychologist, but I do enjoy looking through the DSM-5 every once in a while, so I'm going off of that.

When you first look at Kristoph's behavior, you would (understandably) say he's a narcissist. From a purely colloquial perspective, this is absolutely true. However, I also think he very likely has narcissistic personality disorder. To be completely clear, I don't think his behavior is inherently a result of this. I think his behavior is a result of realizing he has a problem (even if he doesn't realize it's narcissism, he does acknowledge that he's fucked up because the reason he gives for killing Zak is "I am an evil human being") and not bothering to get help for it. In fact I'd argue he embraces it. So let's go through the DSM-5's diagnostic criteria for NPD (I don't need to explain where most of these are applicable but I'm going to anyway).

Criterion 1: Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements) - While I don't personally think the examples provided by the DSM-5 are reflective of Kristoph's behavior (although I think an argument could be made about him exaggerating his achievements, depending on if you think he was forging evidence before the Gramarye trial, which I personally do but I'll get into that later) I absolutely think he has a grandiose sense of self-importance because he canonically has a god complex, which is implied to be why he became a defense attorney; by doing that, he made people depend on him and literally had people's lives in his hands.

Criterion 2: Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love - I don't really know exactly how applicable this is, and it might've been more applicable when he was younger. However, he was so determined to get a win over Klavier in Klavier's first trial to forge evidence over it, so there's something to be said about him having a preoccupation with success not unlike Manfred I think.

Criterion 3: Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions) - He literally says this himself. He literally says the jury is made up of "ignorant swine" and says they're soiling the courts, I don't know what else to say on this point

Criterion 4: Requires excessive admiration - I will once again point you to the implication that he became a defense attorney specifically to make people dependent on him. The judge calls him the best defense attorney in town so I think it's safe to assume he's never lost a trial (which I will bring up again later). The nanosecond it's implied Apollo is turning on him and losing admiration for him, Kristoph takes it as a fucking betrayal, specifically saying "Et tu, Justice? You would betray me, your teacher?" Reminder, this is because Apollo decided to listen to Phoenix's testimony.

Criterion 5: Has a sense of entitlement (i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations) - Can I say his cell is evidence of this? No? Alright. He seems pretty fucking upset when he's reminded he's not the defense attorney in Phoenix's case. What does this imply? He acts like he's entitled to acting as the defense attorney during the case. This in comparison to the other defense attorneys who have acted as co-counsel at some point (Mia, Diego, Phoenix, Apollo, Kazuma, Athena) who let the acting defense attorney do their damn job. Like it might even be that no other lawyer acting as co-counsel has ever acted as entitled as Kristoph does that makes it feel like Kristoph comes off as entitled in the first place (in which case, I very much think Kristoph is meant to come off as entitled during Turnabout Trump).

Criterion 6: Is interpersonally exploitative (i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends) - I'm not explaining this. Phoenix's disbarment hinged on this, I refuse to explain this. I already made a post about it in regards to Apollo, I'm not explaining this here

Criterion 7: Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others - I think in order to be as horrible as he is, he would have to lack empathy. Idk. Like he obviously lacks empathy but I don't know how to explain it.

Criterion 8: Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her - Literally his motive for everything. He got Phoenix disbarred because he was upset over Zak firing him.

Criterion 9: Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes - I will once again direct you to him calling the jury "ignorant swine" in Turnabout Succession.

That is 8 out of 9 criteria he definitely meets and one that's debatable. You only need to meet five of the critera to be diagnosed. The only reason one is debatable is because we don't get into Kris's head. Conclusion: "Kristoph has NPD" isn't an unreasonable assumption. Kristoph having NPD is actually why I haven't posted the analysis on his Psyche-Locks; I didn't think I could explain Kristoph having NPD well in that post and having that explanation is crucial to understanding that analysis (which will be added to this one instead of it being its own post).

As I said at the start, I do not think Kristoph having NPD makes him a horrible person. I think he knows he has a problem, and instead of getting help for it, he embraces it. He chooses not to get help and that choice and him borderline embracing his narcissistic traits is what makes him a horrible person. This is yet another thing that makes Kristoph and Klavier so interesting; Klavier exhibited similar narcissistic tendencies at 17 (although not near as bad as Kristoph) but it feels like he recognized that he had a problem and got help for it. Narcissistic personality disorder can be caused by trauma, and it wouldn't surprise me if Kristoph and Klavier had very similar yet very different responses to whatever traumatic event they experienced. In Kris's case, this resulted in NPD that he didn't get help for and arguably embraces.

Part 2: Evidence Forgery & A Perfect Trial Record

The judge explicitly refers to Kristoph as "the best defense attorney in town" when he asks about Apollo's status as the acting attorney and Apollo refers to Kristoph as a "top-notch defense attorney" when he asks Phoenix why he wanted Apollo to be his attorney. In my opinion, both of these statements would imply that Kristoph has never lost a trial. Even Phoenix has lost trials, and he basically had Kristoph's reputation before being disbarred (which has some super interesting implications actually). This is where Klavier comes into play.

For Kristoph to forge evidence to guarantee a win, he's either not as good a defense attorney as his reputation would have people believe, or he was confident Klavier had a chance to win the trial. If we really think about it, I think the first option, that Kristoph just isn't as good a defense attorney as people think, is more likely, and this also leads into the evidence forgery discussion. He had no qualms about spending $100k on forged evidence. This implies one of two things; either he's forged evidence before or he's von Karma levels of rich. I think it's much more likely that Kristoph forges evidence to make up for the fact that he's not actually as good a defense attorney as people think he is.

He's a year younger than Phoenix, so if we assume he became a defense attorney at the same age as Phoenix (24), he'd already been a defense attorney for two years at that point. Going a bit further, if we assume he became a defense attorney at the same age as Apollo (22) instead, then he'd been an attorney for four years by the time Zak's trial was happening (and he had been an attorney long enough by Zak's trial to be well known, as Klavier says "Ah, figures my bro's more famous in this part of town" when the judge asks if Klavier and Kristoph are related). There's plenty of room for him to forge evidence there, as long as the decisive evidence doesn't require replication of something that would be unique, like handwriting. He could (probably) easily forge a murder weapon or a bloodstain. This would explain why he's so willing to pay $100k for a forgery too. If we keep with the assumption that he forged evidence his entire career but never had to do anything with something like handwriting, he'd probably pay an arm and a leg to get the evidence he needs.

Considering Kristoph is also willing to murder people over a seven year old case, I wouldn't be surprised if he defended people he knew were guilty. Depending on the case, he would probably have to forge evidence at some point.

Part 3: Black Psyche-Locks

Kristoph having black Psyche-Locks when he's asked about why he killed Zak is interesting. It makes a lot more sense if you keep in mind that he is a narcissist. To fully explore Kris's Psyche-Locks, we need to go back to something Spark Brushel mentions in Turnabout Succession's MASON system section.

Spark says that Kristoph started stalking everyone who could conceivably be involved in Zak's case out of paranoia. In Kristoph's brain, this was probably completely justified. His paranoia was specifically rooted in the belief that Zak would appear to someone involved in the case and expose Kristoph's forgery. Kristoph stalked Spark, he stalked Phoenix, he stalked the Mishams, I wouldn't be surprised if he (attempted to) stalk Klavier. If the fact that he forged the evidence that got Phoenix Wright disbarred ever got out, his reputation would be tarnished beyond repair, and to him, his reputation is the most important thing he has. He was so careful about how he handled the forged diary page that nobody suspected anything was even wrong with it except Klavier. All of this adds context to his Psyche-Locks being black instead of red.

I think it's incredibly likely that whether through paranoia-fueled delusion or just not being able to consciously acknowledge that he did kill Zak (which, if revealed and then investigated, could absolutely expose all of Kristoph's wrongdoings, something I think he would've realized), he genuinely didn't realize he killed Zak. I 100% think it's possible that Kristoph genuinely thought he'd killed some random guy on impulse. "But Jinx," I hear you saying, "why would he have gone after Zak if he didn't realize who he is?" As I said, I think it's possible that Kris thought he killed a random guy on impulse. He didn't plan to kill Zak. If he had, he would've been more prepared for it. I think some part of his brain recognized Zak which is what gave him the impulse in the first place, but he didn't become consciously aware of it until Turnabout Succession. Alternatively, he got so far in denial that he managed to delude himself into genuinely thinking he hadn't killed Zak, and he had just killed some rando named Shadi Smith. Phoenix didn't even recognize Zak when he introduced himself as Shadi. If Phoenix, who played poker with and defended Zak and has a picture of him in his office, didn't recognize Zak immediately, why would Kristoph?

It's also not impossible that there are multiple other murders Kristoph's committed that we don't know about. Hell, he tried to poison the Mishams after Zak's trial. At the very least I don't think that was his first time attempting murder. Kristoph's not an idiot, he's just careless (which doesn't surprise me, considering he is so convinced that if he ties his loose ends he won't get caught that he doesn't even tie his loose ends all the way, nor watch what he says in regards to murders he committed). That's not to say he's some kind of mastermind either, but he is intelligent. I don't think he could pull Simeon Saint levels of bullshit but he's very much capable of successfully and skillfully manipulating people. My point here being, if he has murdered other people before he murdered Zak and after he attempted to poison the Mishams, he probably wouldn't be surprised about having the impulse to kill some random guy, making him more inclined to believe he did just kill some guy.

I also think it's worth it to compare how Athena's Psyche-Locks broke in Dual Destinies to Kristoph's behavior. Athena was able to be eased into her Psyche-Locks breaking. She didn't have any reason not to trust the things Phoenix was saying. Kristoph is so paranoid that he doesn't trust anyone. He wouldn't have been able to have his Psyche-Locks broken because he would just deny everything that's being said until he can't deny it anymore and breaks down, something at least directly related to his paranoia, if not also his NPD. This is why I mentioned in this post that breaking Kristoph's Psyche-Locks would always be a bad idea. He'd never get to a point where he'd be able to mentally handle the truth. Kris's trust issues run so deep that he'd never trust anything anyone's saying until the damage is already done and the Psyche-Locks are broken. In Kristoph's case, there's no way to break those fuckers without causing the damage Pearl mentioned as something that'll happen if they're broken when they're not ready to be. I wouldn't be surprised if this is why Kristoph's breakdown in Turnabout Succession is so intense.

Part 4: Kristoph's Personal Relationships

For this section, I'm going to discuss each of Kristoph's relationships separately, then go into what his relationships say about him in general. So let's start.

Kristoph & Klavier

Kristoph and Klavier's dynamic is genuinely one of the most interesting in the Ace Attorney series to me.

Klavier doesn't really talk about Kristoph much, and the same sorta seems to apply to Kristoph. We don't learn anything about Klavier and Kristoph's dynamic until Turnabout Succession, and we know Kristoph didn't talk about Klavier because Apollo didn't even know Kristoph has a brother. When we do see what their dynamic was like in 2019, it's Klavier being used by Kristoph. Kristoph used Klavier to get Phoenix disbarred, and it weighed on Klavier's mind for seven years.

I also think it's worth noting the following exchange from Turnabout Succession:

Klavier: Let's clean out the family closet, eh, Kristoph? Kristoph: You're spinning out of control. Calm yourself before you say something you'll regret. Klavier: Spinning out of whose control? Mine? …Or yours?

Which implies that Kristoph exhibited some kind of controlling behavior towards Klavier. It doesn't surprise me because Kristoph's a control freak. I'd also be more surprised if Klavier wasn't afraid of Kristoph killing him at some point. Additionally, something I mentioned in my Klavier analysis is that in the 2019 section of Turnabout Succession, Klavier does have a good view of Kristoph and even seems to look up to him. He takes Kristoph at his word that Phoenix is going to present forged evidence despite (by 24 year old Klavier's account) finding it weird even then, and keeps him anonymous when he brings up the fact that Phoenix presented forged evidence. Another thing I mentioned in the aforementioned Klavier analysis is that based on Klavier's behavior, he didn't realize Kristoph was manipulating him until sometime after the 2019 section of Turnabout Succession. Something made Klavier realize he was being manipulated. Could be age or that Kristoph did something that made Klavier realize Kristoph was a piece of shit, but no matter what it was, something happened that made Klavier's view of Kristoph shift.

Kristoph & Phoenix

Kristoph and Phoenix are also really interesting to me because Kristoph's end of their friendship is fueled by paranoia, and Phoenix's side is fueled by a desire to keep Kristoph close and basically investigate him. It's toxic on both their ends, and that makes it really interesting. Their dynamic also has a really good example of "Kristoph will lash out if someone even minutely slights him" in both Phoenix's trial and Vera's.

During Phoenix's trial, Kristoph gets so upset over the trial even slightly alluding to the potential for him being present to kill Shadi that the judge has to remind him that Phoenix is his client. Phoenix is also so determined to get Kristoph caught that he forges evidence (technically twice) and revamps the entire justice system (and this was exclusively to get Kristoph caught). They're both incredibly petty with each other. I'm not really sure what to add here, they're just so toxic they should come with a radiation warning.

Kristoph & Apollo

Apollo looks up to Kristoph. Kristoph uses this to his advantage during Phoenix's trial, using the fact that Apollo is loyal to and looks up to both Kristoph and Phoenix to emotionally manipulate him. He then probably tries to use "You would betray me, your teacher?" to further manipulate him, but Apollo's desire to find the truth overrides his loyalty to Kristoph (something Apollo literally tells Kristoph).

Kristoph has one final instance of trying to emotionally manipulate Apollo; he gets Klavier to the point where he essentially shuts down then blames Klavier shutting down on Apollo. This doesn't work of course, and Apollo bulldozes on through anyway.

In general I think we can come to a pretty solid conclusion that Kristoph will either manipulate and gaslight people to get what he wants or stalks them out of an intense paranoia that's directly related to how he sees himself as a result of the NPD he didn't get treatment for. Instead of coping with things like a normal fucking person, he resorts to both physical and psychological violence and stalking.

Part 5: Conclusion

So here we are. Almost 3k words later. I do not want the takeaway from this to be "Kristoph's a manipulative, violent asshole because he's a narcissist" and if that's your takeaway you need to rethink literally everything I said here. The fact that Kristoph could be diagnosed with NPD has nothing to do with him choosing violence. NPD has nothing to do with him choosing to stalk everyone involved with Zak's trial instead of getting help for his paranoia. I want that to be perfectly clear. The thing with NPD is it can be hard for the person suffering from it to realize they have it and subsequently get help for it. Kristoph's problem isn't exactly that he has NPD. It's that he never got help for the thinking patterns the NPD caused. Had he gotten help I don't think he would've ended up stalking and murdering people. He'd still have NPD, but he wouldn't be near as fucked up.

It's why Klavier and Kristoph are so interesting as characters. Klavier has narcissistic traits but he evidently got help for them, as he's nowhere near as egotistical at 24 as he was when he was 17, although he does start exhibiting those traits again under high stress situations. He's still not completely okay mentally (otherwise he wouldn't regress like that), but he's also better than Kristoph at managing his symptoms when they do show up. Kristoph doesn't even try to get help for his symptoms, which leads to his downfall. Had he gotten help for his narcissism, he might've ended up a bit more like Klavier.

I hope Ace Attorney's prison system has a proper therapy program. I hope Kristoph's able to get help when and if he decides he wants it, because I am personally of the belief that everyone deserves help if they want it, and Kristoph's no different. I don't think he deserves to have Phoenix, Apollo, or Klavier back in his life, and I wouldn't blame any of them for never talking to him again, but that doesn't mean I don't think Kristoph deserves help. He would just have to realize he has a problem first, which I doubt happened soon after Apollo Justice and I'd frankly be surprised if it ever happens. But I hope the offer for help is there if he decides he wants it.

So why is Kristoph Like That? Untreated mental health issues that he's implied to realize is a problem.

*Again, please do not act like I'm saying Kristoph having NPD is an excuse for his actions. He chose not to get help. He chose to stalk people. He chose to kill people. Him having NPD isn't an excuse for that. My goal here was simply to answer "Why is Kristoph Gavin like that?" Do not misconstrue my intentions here or what I'm saying. Kristoph's NPD isn't what drove him to do what he did. Him choosing to embrace symptoms that hurt people did.

[mj-iza-writer]

I’ve never requested something from someone before but I feel like something of a whumpee who has only ever been tortured for Whumper’s amusement and has been made to feel useless and suddenly one day whumper decides to make Whumpee like a pet/slave and whumpee is confused but happy to get even the smallest of rewards while also knowing Whumper could rip it all away if they wanted to for any reason. You don’t have to write it just something I’ve thought about and decided it couldn’t hurt to ask.

I am honored to be your first request. I do apologize about the wait though. I hope you enjoy the story.

"Do you need a reminder of your place?", Whumper pushed Whumpee onto the floor, "hmm? I'll be happy to knock it back into you."

Whumpee's lip quivered as they looked up at Whumper. They hadn't done anything wrong.

"N-no Master... I-I'm sorry", Whumpee lowered themself to the floor. They squeezed their eyes shut as they rested their head onto the hardwood.

"That's more like it", Whumper chuckles as they rest their shoe on the side of Whumpee's head, "nice and obedient."

Tears snuck out of Whumpee's eyes and roll onto the floor.

"You are nothing.... the only use I have for you is the housework you do", Whumper digs their foot into Whumpee's head, "lick my shoes. Your mouth isn't useful for anything else. There you go", Whumper jeers as Whumpee turns their head slightly and licks the bottom of their shoe."

"You're a filthy animal", Whumper sneered, "a simple mutt."

"Yes Master", Whumpee whispered before offering their tongue again.

Whumpee had collapsed tiredly on the hallway floor that night. They were barely able to keep their eyes open from the day they had just experienced. They felt that it was getting worse as the days passed.

Whumper had kicked them a few more times before going to bed.

Whumpee was too tired to even worry about their injuries.

"I would love to have a good day....", Whumpee whispered, "tomorrow... maybe."

The next morning they limped into the kitchen.

They froze when they looked down and saw two dog dishes set out.

"Oh good", Whumper sauntered out, "I have a new role for you to play for me. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Whumpee quickly nodded in response. It was better to be agreeable. Much safer to say yes.

"Good. Now get into a crawling position", Whumper pointed at the floor, "you are a mutt. So it's only fitting that you act like a dog. You'll still be required to do your chores, but you can no longer walk on two feet. You may not speak unless I tell you to. You can only go outside to use the bathroom."

"O-outside?", Whumpee glanced at the door.

"I have to let you out. You can not leave without permission", Whumper grinned.

"It-its cold outside Master", Whumpee whimpered.

"It will be even colder for you too. Take off your clothes. You lost that privilege", Whumper smirked evilly.

"M-my clothes", Whumpee looked down at their faded, thin clothes. These were all they had.

"Strip... stop asking stupid questions", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee shook violently as they pulled their clothes off.

"You can keep the underwear. No one wants to see that", Whumper sighed, "actually when did you last take a shower?"

Whumpee covered themself out of embarrassment, "it's been a while", they whispered.

"The chores can wait. I can't have a dirty dog. Bath time", Whumper pointed.

Whumpee awkwardly stared at the tub while Whumper filled it.

Scenarios popped in their head of how badly this could go. Be dunked under water, soap shoved in their mouth or eyes.

"Alright, hop in", Whumper stood aside.

Whumpee looked up nervously, "please Master forgive me for whatever I've done. Please, I don't want you to drown me."

"Get in", Whumper clenched their jaw.

Whumpee cowarded back a little before inching to the tub. Their legs felt like jelly as they got into the water. To their surprise, the water was warm.

"I guess you're using my shampoo and soap", Whumper reached for a few things, "at least this will make you smell better. You were getting a little rancid. Your nails look gross too, so I'll trim those today."

Whumpee looked sadly at their nails. Thoughts of their nails being pulled off raced through their imagination.

Whumper started to rinse Whumpee off.

Whumpee jumped back and yelped.

"Sit still", Whumper ordered as they splashed the water at Whumpee's face.

Whumpee sputtered as the water dripped from their face.

A few minutes later, Whumper was massaging shampoo into Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee moaned quietly as Whumper worked.

"Does this feel good?", Whumper paused to look at them.

"Yes Master", Whumpee whispered, "thankyou for your kindness."

"Ymhmm", Whumper hummed.

Whumpee stared up at Whumper at they trimmed Whumpee's nails and even filed them to a nice shape.

"Why are you staring at me?", Whumper frowned.

To Whumpee's surprise, Whumper was actually talking gently to them.

"I-I apologize", Whumpee whispered, "I just haven't had this done for a while. Thankyou so much. Even just these few minutes have been so uhm comforting. I-I'm really thankful."

"You're welcome. I'm just wanting to give this a try for a little while. I'm getting bored with abusing you. Need something refreshing to do, and I've been wanting a pet but can't have one here."

Whumpee nodded, "may I ask what things you would have me do in this role? I want to be able to give you what you want Master."

"I don't know yet" Whumper looked at Whumpee, "for right now... just keep doing your chores. Never mind what I said earlier about the no speaking at least. Just remember your manners."

"Yes master", Whumpee nodded.

A few days passed, and Whumpee was the happiest they had been in a long time.

Whumper had taken such good care of them. Yes, they still had to do the chores, but Whumper hadn't hurt them in so long.

Whumpee treaded very carefully still. They didn't want to chance Whumper getting mad and ruining this chance.

They were a pet, yes, but they were being taken care of at least.

They jumped when they heard Whumper yelling and slamming things in the kitchen.

"No please", Whumpee whispered, "not yet."

Their master's temper was flaring. That often meant Whumpee would be the punching bag to help calm them down.

"Whumpee!", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee gulped, it was over.

They slowly crawled to the kitchen and peeked around the corner.

"Don't just stare at me. Clean it up", Whumper pointed at a puddle on the floor, "I was trying to fill your water dish, and my hand slipped and I dropped the bowl."

Whumpee quickly got up and grabbed a small towel.

They got back down and quickly wiped the spilled water.

"Go-good pup", Whumper sighed, "fill up your water dish for yourself, I guess. I'm going to go sit down."

Whumpee nodded and watched as Whumper partially limped out of the kitchen.

Whumpee had noticed recently that Whumper was acting differently.

They crawled out after Whumper, and watched them sit down.

"What are you looking at?", Whumper sighed as they sat down.

"May I ask a question Master?", Whumpee whispered.

"I guess", Whumper frowned.

"Yo-you have been acting very differently for a few days. Not even with how you've treated me. Are you okay?

"Bold question for a slave to ask a master. Do you want to go back to me hurting you or something?", Whumper glared.

"N-no Master, I've enjoyed this more than you will ever know. I just... you seem like you are hurting. I know what it feels like to hurt. I just, uhm... hope you're okay", Whumpee looked down.

Whumper sat back in their chair, "I'm not sick, I'm just getting old. I'm not able to knock you around like I use too. I thought maybe making you into a pet would ease some of that. I have honestly kind of enjoyed it as well."

"I've been so nervous about you taking it away from me. I have enjoyed being your pet", Whumpee looked down, "I do kind of miss using the inside bathroom though."

"Yeah, you can go back to doing that. It's too cold for me to stand out there with you", Whumper grinned, "I don't plan on changing this any time soon. Just don't do anything stupid, at least."

"So you are okay then?", Whumpee looked at them worriedly.

"Yes, I'm fine... just old", Whumper patted their lap, "come on, let's watch a movie."

Whumpee took a second to realize what that meant. They crawled forward to get closer.

"You can come up here. Come on", Whumper patted on the couch.

Whumpee looked at the couch questioningly before jumping up.

It wasn't along until Whumpee was allowed to rest their head on Whumper's leg.

Whumpee blinked slowly a few minutes after Whumper started massaging their head.

"Feel good", Whumper chuckled.

"Y-yes Master?", Whumpee answered almost questioningly.

"You seem unsure", Whumper startled to turn the TV on.

"I-I'm not use to this", Whumpee answered, "it does feel good though."

"That's good", Whumper sighed, "that's good."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

@kawaii-cakes @phoenixpromptsandstuff

[thenoellebird]

((Howwwww do you think I felt seeing 'Oh cool! That author who throat punched me responded? Why is there a lecture on inc-OHHHHHHHH I HAVE ERRORED GREATLY. Also chapter 7 was another good one and I am nervous Stan is about to have a new scar on his left shoulder opposite the one he got from his fight 30 years ago. The guilt/frustration and the idea that 'whenever I see my brother and we fight/argue I get a new super scar' is throwing some ideas at me. I like how the kids are responding, Mable seeking reassurance and even though Dipper is still mad, but also trying to move towards normalacy (I think that's what it looks like to me) so he is acting like he normally would. I will say Stan getting cared/babied y Ford is such a funny concept because he should like it but it's not a pleasent time.))

Sequel 👁️👁️ ?? I await to see how I can read another one of your works and then go back to work as if I hadn't just had my heart stomped. The loony bin idea came from Dipper & Mabels guide to non stop fun where Stan says the Ink blots remind him of his loony days. It's on page 146 in a throwaway line bUT THE PLOT IS STILL THERE!!! Especially since we know he did a lot of unsavory/traumatizing stuff during his drifter days. (If you get a chance to see the cut line where Stan was supposed to say he wouldn't have survived the summer when he was pleading to dipper during not what he seems. My guy really is not defeating the depression ideas at all.)

(don't worry about it, mistakes happen to the best of us. I'm just glad that it wAS a mistake and that my stuff ISN'T associated with...all that crap.)

Stan is going to have a lot of scars ALL over his arms. (A HC that I have is he had a bunch of minor ones that we don't see in the show because when have ever seen that one scar on the inside of his arm besides Roadside Attraction--point it out to me in other episodes if y'all can see it--either it's a continuity thing that didn't matter or it was to illustrate that we can't see Stan's scars) Though his shoulder might be worse than everywhere else.

I looked up the thing about the "loony bin" that you talked about and OMGOSH the theories are insane. I actually freaking love this idea and am now thinking of adding at least another extra chapter in my fic for stan and ford to have some very important conversations about each other.

I don't think we can cover everything I want to do just in chapters 8 and 9...we might have a chapter 10 we'll see. I know how the fic ends, and I know how the next one begins, and it's kind of nice how they fit together. I don't want them to be the same because like u can start the new fic yk without reading the old one even though the context makes it better and stuffs.

Stan doesn't think he deserves babying, even though he secretly wants it more than anything. He wants to let himself be cared for, but he's always too scared that it's too good to be true and he thinks that once people figure out how bad he is they'll leave him. He knows Ford left him once, and so while he's anxious to cling to Ford, he also feels like Ford might want to leave again since Stan is "worthless" and since he loves his brother, he'd respect that even if he didn't like it, because in his eyes, Ford is worth more than the world.

As for Stan himself, yes he is very depresso. He needs LUUUUV. so while I want to like have his trauma detailed and stuff, I also want to give him the world and a few more hardships because that keeps life interesting. For us, not for him. He'd rather be happy. And he will be happy, but nobody is happy all the time.

Actually, I started writing this before I found out about the cut line (that just confirmed everything that I thought) and I was actually like "oh my gosh I kind of wish they'd've kept some version of this" type deal yk? super cool though.

I actually want to include Stan and Ford talking through some of Stan's trauma from the drifter days, and also Ford's trauma from the portal. Most of that will probably come in my second fic, though.

I also have a reverse portal AU fic that I'm slowly working on (bringing to liiiife) and it seems really good so far. I'll probably end up posting it at some point.

Anyways, here's a picture tease for the start of chapter 8

I realized I drew it the wrong way so I had to manually mirror it by editing my photo. It's kind of funny...I didn't want to redraw it but I realized too late XD

Hope y'all enjoy. And thank you for the info (hehe and the ideas)

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch4.

Spoilers!

"I'm not making any decisions right now." Caitlyn, you're such a fucking liar. I love you so much.

Caitlyn really needs to get some better coping methods. I'm of the idea that she never properly learned how to grieve - when she lost her mom, she was immediately manipulated into turning her grief into a weapon to be wielded against someone else's enemies. And she didn't really lose anyone else until the Purge. So she's running on the only thing she knows: turn the grief into anger and use it to protect yourself from more grief. In this case, it actually does keep her alive. But that doesn't mean it's healthy.

"She hasn't changed that much; she probably won't have a lot of time before someone recognizes the missing Sheriff Kiramman." - This is pretty much the main reason I didn't go back through and account for Caitlyn's lost eye. It would make her so incredibly recognizable. That's me being lazy.

Caitlyn's outfit as Ghost is actually several asymmetrical layers of varying shades of grey. I think black would actually be too obvious, even at night, and the uneven layers help break up the human form to keep her harder to see.

Caitlyn doesn't take anything from her apartment. She doesn't have anything TO take. :(

I know I said this last chapter, but I LOVE writing Caitlyn and Petra's conversations. They're so fun.

Hmm... Why does Petra know a guy who smuggles things around Runeterra? Will this be a little important later? Who's to say? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Okay, everyone say "Bye, Petra!" Maybe we'll see her again later. (We will.)

Vi, my beloved. She just won't give up. I think that, even now, she's a little too selfless to let go. She doesn't want to live like this, but she won't let herself die on the chance that she might be leaving someone behind. I'm love her. so. much.

This team that Vi and her handler are working with are kinda inspired by a D&D party. A group of strange individuals who bounce around, working for whoever will pay them. They work for the Baroness sometimes. They also work for other Chem-Barons and gang leaders and the like.

The Feline Woman (and all of her companions) are just OCs. They're not based on any other characters. They're pretty much just one-off characters, but I DID decide to bring the Feline Woman back briefly later.

Both of our girls have trauma around fire, for obvious reasons. Interestingly, I ended up using fire and references to it so much that it kinda became a motif in this story.

The neighbors not intervening in any way is to show just how much control the Chen-Barons and gangs have over the common people. The fear of being the next example keeps them from helping, which keeps them divided.

I killed Tobias and I am going to take every opportunity to painfully remind everyone of that.

The kid that Vi is forced to kill here was probably about ten or eleven when the Purge happened. He doesn't recognize Vi. But anyone who happened to look outside during any of this attack might have - she was the Sheriff's partner, a rather public figure, and definitely recognizable. And that's the whole point.

Could Vi have ended the boy's suffering in one hit? If she was at full strength, sure. Easily, if she hit him in the right place. But they're not keeping her at full strength, because they don't want to risk it AND because they don't need to. She's serving her purpose perfectly as is.

Teaser for next week:

Ghost presses herself flatter to the rooftop. Her clothes are dark and the muzzle of her rifle is matte to prevent it from gleaming; they won't be able to see her. As they look for her, she sweeps her gaze over their group, counting them.

...two, three, four --

She sees a flash of familiar pink, and every fragment of her being goes absolutely still.

[eastwindmlk]

"I am obsessed with you. Not in a creepy way (lmao)." with prongsfoot 🙏🏼

Thank you so much! This took me a bit because I really had no idea how to spin this sentence again, haha. But we did it and it got a little spicy! I hope that makes up for the wait.

As always, my inbox is open for prompts any time! Except for this specific line. I refuse, lol.

597 words under the cut or read on AO3

‘I hate Quidditch’ James thought as he dragged a plastered Sirius up the stairs while he himself was still stone-cold sober. He would have loved to partake but James could not justify risking not being his absolute best when facing Ravenclaw come morning. 

And so, James had sipped pumpkin juice and watched while his mates got sloshed, getting more and more inebriated the more his determination started to waver. He’d even poured himself a cup, and if it had not been for Sirius draining the cup while it had still been in James’ hand, he might have, at least, felt the burn of gin sliding down his throat. 

It would give him a reason to feel the way he did, to excuse the heat that licked at his skin every time Sirius brushed against him—the way his stomach did that thing when he draped himself over James. 

Sirius smelled like Christmas; Like cinnamon, hearth fire and something so distinctly Sirius that James was sure he could pick it up anywhere. 

This and the way he set James’ skin on fire were pushed aside, deemed as too distracting and too… he wasn’t sure what else it was. Inconvenient, probably. It wasn’t irritating, but the thing he could not quite settle was if it was inappropriate. 

What certainly was inappropriate, though, was the way Sirius's mouth felt against the back of his neck. The open-mouthed kiss gave James pause and nearly had him catch his foot on the next stair. 

“Sirius,” he reprimanded in a murmur, his voice low enough to be misconstrued. 

There came a chuckle from right behind James’ ear as Sirius wrapped his arms around him from behind, hands locking in the front. Just like that, the weight of a whole person clung to James, whose hands gripped onto his thighs, hoisting him up and squeezing curiously while he continued up the stairs. 

It was difficult enough to concentrate before, with Sirius right beside him, without him clinging onto him like he was gravity itself. The drunken affection that he lavished James with from the moment Sirius had downed his third drink and tipped from slightly buzzed to tipsy. 

Their exchanges had garnered some stares and earned some whispers, not that either of them cared too much about who thought what about their unconventional dynamic. As long as they knew what they were. Right?

Sirius’ breath was hot on James’ neck as he chuckled, his legs wrapping tighter around his hips. “Do I have you cursing my name already? We’re not even upstairs yet.” 

Like the words alone weren’t enough, Sirius’ tongue dragged along the stubble on his neck. 

James drew in a sharp breath that lodged itself in his throat for a moment, his hands gripping tighter onto Sirius’ thighs. “I have a game tomorrow,” James said firmly, a reminder that, hopefully, implied enough. 

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed against his skin. “Are you sure you can’t make an exception, captain?” 

“You know I can’t, Padfoot.” 

“Not even for me?” James bit back a groan when Sirius’ teeth pinched his earlobe. “I am obsessed with you. You’re such a good boy for someone who loves to bend the rules,” Sirius said, his voice low and teasing. 

James’ mouth went dry at his words, and he tried to swallow thickly. “Obsessed? That’s… something,” he said, his wit having been left somewhere along the stairs together with his determined nature.

“Not in a creepy way, obviously. In an I-need-you-inside-of-me way,” Sirius replied, and with that, the remainder of his fighting spirit left James. Because how was he ever going to say no to that?

[swan-orpheus]

OKay so I am watching the Umbara arc for the 10000000th time and feeling mildly chatty about it. Can we please talk about this interaction?

Rex: He’s wound tight, but he’s loyal.

Anakin: [chuckles] He kind of reminds me of you.

Rex: Maybe...back in the day.

...uttered with the saddest eyes, haltingly, traling off in the most world-weary tone imaginable as if his voice just slid into an open grave. I had to hit “pause” cause it was a lot.

And this following close on the heels of Fives remarking that it’ll be “just like old times”

*screaming*

Captain Rex is on the downward slide morale-wise and it is only going to get worse for the man.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[impostorsshow]

I'm actually so obsessed with him it's not even funny if i'm not listening to a TikTok or music directly related to him I can't focus free me free me

This is @/cherubpuppet's OC for a object show [au? pitch? wip show? How do I categorize this] and I've been destroyed by the fact that ruler art is infinitely superior [and 10x longer] and i don't have a good enough grasp on lip gloss's personality to make fanfiction so I am frozen in "want make fanart but fanart takes effort :["

[starry-kittens]

Went to Michaels again, you know we had to do it to em

[emilykaldwen]

Okay I have two very different anons in my inbox right now on the OC face claim issue. I’ve read both, and I’m just gonna address you both here:

1. No one OWNS a face claim. I have RPed in spaces where everyone was using a face for something (so many people using Holliday Granger and Elle Fanning for Helaena omg save me). It’s just a thing. They’re resources. The only thing we own is the character we’re writing. We do not own actors or musicians or whomever is being used to portray our character.

HOWEVER

2. When it comes to creating your OC, you should follow some courtesy. Do you see someone all over your dash using Freya Allen for, say, a Daemyra daughter? Then you would probably want to find another actor to portray your take on a Daemyra daughter. Not only are there a million faces out there, but it also helps you, the OC creator, from any weird comparison feelings, as well further separating your concepts from others.

When I was creating Myranda Greyjoy initially, I knew that there was another OC creator out there who also had a Greyjoy x Aemond situation going on (since Myra was going to initially end up with Aemond). I went and tracked down that creator’s old gifsets to ensure that I hadn’t accidentally lifted the name as well as making sure that the face I had chosen was different enough. Since we were both exploring a similar concept, I wanted to make sure I was differentiating myself from the other person.

I’m definitely new to the OC tumblr world, mostly because this wasn’t much of a thing back in the day, and I’m only vaguely familiar with all the history there. I don’t really play around in it that much, but here’s the thing: both the above truths can coexist because people are human. If someone were to use Isolda as one of Lyonel Strong’s daughters, that’s fine! It only becomes weird if say the other person was lifting character traits and things like that. Then THAT becomes a little more 👀

But I don’t own Isolda’s face, and it’s up to ME to be normal about that! Apparently she’s a popular face for Sansa Stark now! Good for her!

The point is: be courteous and mindful of the space you operate in. There’s a ton of Strong Bastards and Stark daughters using Adelaide Kane. There was a ton of Whatshername from TLK that was being used everywhere. You’re going to have overlap, but the use of the same face is not theft.

@selfproclaimedunicorn and I were both using Rose Williams for our own OCs (her for Lara Mormont and me for Myranda). Like it’s no biggie! We were also both using Isolda (her for a Reyne girl and me for Abby).

Totally different concepts. Different ‘roles’ if you will for that face claim.

Whenever I see Isolda on my dash I’m like ‘oh that’s Abby!’ Cause that’s my girl now. She’s Abby in my head.

Anyway, I can only speak for myself. I don’t think people should be nervous about asking about a face reference, but you should always be polite about it! If you’re messaging someone about the actor, compliment their gifset or post you saw, and then ask. Don’t just know on someone’s door and go ‘hey whose the face you’re using’ cause as a creator, that would make me feel sad that you had nothing nice to say about what I made.

[shutup-andletme-go]

I cannot rely on one person for me to be happy my happiness isn't allowed to be only triggered by one person I can be happy at every little thing it doesn't matter about this one person

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D