#i am. trying so hard no to say anything unhinged about this. i am so normal. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

im-poe-dameron · 2 months ago

Text

NO LIGHT

a/n: wake up babes a new sith dropped and he's ridiculously hot. <- i wrote that when the episode dropped. and it's taken me a bit to finish. really i got this done out of pure spite, because what the fuck do you mean we're not going to see him again. expect tons more for this man from me and feel free to scream in the inbox cause if there's one thing that will remain, i am down bad for a sith. and all i could say while writing was: i can make him worse. this is the prequel fic to darkness within.

summary: jedi were the light, the path to good in a galaxy draped in darkness. he never called himself a title you'd grown accustomed to. a life that you'd been thrust into as a child. when doubts arise and beliefs shift, you find yourself entrapped in what you were taught to fight against.

word count: 8k

pairing: qimir (darth teeth) x jedi!f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS THIS AIN'T FOR YOU, corruption arc, enemies to lovers, but let's be honest it's more hate fucking, violence, he shows mercy, an unhinged villain obsessed with his lover, biting sort of, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), bad ending if you view it that way.

"The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural."

There was no name for them spoken aloud in the temples. No title for them to wield with pride as the Jedi did theirs. An armor they strapped to their chests before they carried the weight of the word knight. History was not a lesson to be taught, nor overlooked. Yet The Great War still remained fleeting in classes of the past. As if they willed each generation to forget.

You could feel your mouth form around the letters. The quick biting word that solidified in your heart, breaking open your armor the longer you thought about it. It sounded familiar. Each letter a hiss, as poison dripped between your lips. And you wracked your brain trying to remember where you'd heard it before, why the title came with flashes of memories long forgotten and feelings locked away.

Sith.

The darkness that lingered beneath what light the Jedi spread. A plague waiting to be brought forth and wrought upon the galaxy. Yet in the cracks of that obsidian void, you caught sight of a power that still remained. One not even the Jedi could detect within their midst, and yet you somehow latched on to what you found. The glimpse of his abilities far greater than anything you could ever achieve.

Images of his smile as you fought him alongside the people who trained you; those who didn't come home. How he held his lightsaber with the assurance of a man who'd done this before. Who trained in the same halls you did—who followed a path of light before sinking down to the depths of nothingness. He nearly killed you, held your life in his hands, yet his eyes flashed the second you began to fight back.

To show what you'd been hiding beneath the wall they taught you to built. The blockade which kept each emotion, each fear, trapped in your own mind.

You lashed at him with a fervor that scared you. With an anger that nearly consumed you.

And he smiled.

Questions ran rampant in your mind, yet no matter how hard you searched. No matter how far back you looked in the Temple records, there were no answers. The Sith seemed to have vanished from sight and wiped from existence. As if they never existed in the first place. You thought that something might arise, a piece of the past someone forgot to bury, but each time you looked the quicker you realized that this was done on purpose.

The Jedi cleansed the galaxy of evil—yet in doing so created the path for them to return without notice.

Since returning, you found yourself unable to sleep. When the possibility finally arose and you gave into the pleas of your body, his face returned with a vengeance. The smile that refused to leave you. The intrigue that crossed his eyes as he finally found your weak spot—the one thing that broke you. He fought you to survive at first, but as it continued, you suddenly felt like he was testing you. Attempting to figure out what made you tick, what would eventually make you fall.

You ignored whoever lingered in the hallways of the temple, their greetings falling on deaf ears, as you rushed to the training rooms. Night was cresting on the horizon of Coruscant and where you expected to be alone, you were surprised to find people still awake.

Apparently the attack left some Knights on edge. Including you.

"Maker," you gasped, pressing a hand to your stomach—a rush of nausea rolling through your body like a wave.

Whoever he was—whatever he was—he stuck to your mind like a fungi. Growing and feeding off your thoughts; finding joy in the depths of your head. You longed to claw him out, rip him to pieces until that calm serenity of peace finally returned. Until you felt like yourself again.

The room was thankfully empty, save for a few moved seats here and there. You gathered what control you had left on your emotions, practically collapsing onto the floor, each breath a gasp for the familiar Coruscant air. From what you were taught, meditating would help to ease your mind. Or at least assist in making sense of what you encountered, what knowledge you managed to accrue.

"I am one with the Force," you muttered. The words slipped off your tongue with ease, the memory of being a youngling in this very temple returning with a flash. It remained an old saying Masters told their Padawans when they first begin training. A reminder that while you may be powerful, while you may wield it to your own rhythm, you were surrounded and made from it. "And the Force is with me."

Your breathing slowed, eyes falling shut, and you allowed the room to fall away. You sought what lingered in between the liminal space of your mind and the world around you. Teal flickered on the edge of your vision as the darkness began to take shape—morph into something familiar. Cold licked down your spine, causing the hair to stand on the back of your neck, and suddenly you weren't sitting in the Jedi Temple anymore.

Ancient symbols surrounded you, carving that were set into stones older than you. Sucking in a sharp breath, you scrambled to your feet, your hand reaching for your hip—for the lightsaber that wasn't there. Night was all you could see through the cracked open ceiling; the ruins of what you guessed to be an ancient temple. One before the time of the Jedi you knew on Coruscant.

"Tragic isn't it."

You whirled around, eyes wide as the darkness you believed to be empty, began to bleed away. A figure cloaked in black stepped forward. Only this time...he wore no helmet, no mask to hide his signature and the thoughts that surged through your mind. He gave you the freedom to find what he was, to see beyond the boundaries set by the Jedi.

"W-Who are you?" you asked, your voice echoing off the stone walls and reverberating loudly in your own mind.

He smiled, the very look shoving every emotion you fought to keep at bay to the forefront of your thoughts. "I think you already know the answer to that question."

You gulped in another breath. "Sith."

"So they haven't wiped away that memory entirely." He breathed a soft laugh to himself, taking a few steps forward. "I'm surprised by that."

"Surprised..." Your eyebrows pulled together, body going tense with each step he took. "Did they have that information before?"

His smile only grew, the haze in his brown eyes flashing a burnt yellow for the briefest of moments. "Once." His hand reached out, as if to grasp yours, but this was merely in your head. A projection of his energy and yours. Perhaps that's why you relaxed, why you didn't flinch when his Force signature began to twine with yours. Perhaps that's why you let your guard down. "When I was a Jedi."

"You were a Jedi?" you exclaimed, reeling back. "That's not-"

"Possible?"

The echo of his steps rang through the air, stifling the air from your lungs. He walked like a predator. Yet held the stance of someone who couldn't care less about what you wanted, what you might do to him. He gave you his back with ease and didn't blink twice when your hand twitched to the nonexistent weapon at your side. You began to wonder if he brought you here without it on purpose—if he knew that deep down...you wouldn't hesitate to kill him if given the chance.

"Don't you find it remarkable?" His question threw you off guard as you turned to keep up with his slow prowl.

"Where are we?"

He ignored you. "The Jedi spent so long fighting the Sith. They nearly lost. And yet...no trace of that history remains."

"There's no point to this-"

Stopping a few feet away, he assessed you with a tilt of his head, eyes scrutinizing your very being. "There's always a point. Because despite their grand powers and promises, they are doomed to repeat history."

"Lies," you spit, eyes burning a hole through him.

"The Jedi will fall," he began, coming closer until his face was mere inches from your own. You attempted to step back, to remove yourself from the warmth that bled off his body in waves. But you were stuck—forced to keep still as he finished. "It's in their nature to believe they won't. But they will. One day." His hand reached up, palm cupping your cheek and for a moment...you felt the gentle caress of his touch. "Do you really want to be a part of that?"

"Let me go."

He sighed, eyes falling to your lips without shame. "I can't do that."

"You brought me here. All to tell lies." You sucked in a shuddering breath. "You can let me go-"

"I didn't bring you here," he replied, his lips curling into another grin. "I don't know how...but you found me."

"Found you where?"

His faint touch vanished as he stepped back with a sigh dripping in disappointment. As if you'd confirmed his worst fears. "Ashas Ree."

The planet's name sounded familiar—somewhere on the outer rim. And for a mere moment, you accepted his words as truth. That he didn't call you to this place, but you in fact found yourself here. Yet all it did was open a door you couldn't close. It would give way to the chaos in your mind, to the feelings that begged to run rampant in your heart. That alone would tear you to pieces and you'd have no way to put yourself back.

He leaned in once more, lips a hairsbreadth from your own, and smiled gleefully when you gasped. Your eyes wide and body falling back. Only for him to catch you—his arm a vice around your waist as his hand went to your face, keeping you still.

His touch should have terrified you—sent trills of fear through your body—and yet...you found a piece of something softer underneath his mask of danger. Though he may have turned to the dark side, the part of him that remained a Jedi still existed in the depths of his heart.

With reluctance, you came to the understanding that he wouldn't cause you any harm.

That isn't what he wanted from you.

"I'll see you soon...Jedi."

With a gasp, you collapsed, your head slamming against the temple floor as your eyes flew open. Pain bled into your skull, vision black spotted and hazy, yet you still scrambled to your feet. Your robes caught on your legs, twisting around your body. The beat of your heart echoed loudly in your ears—his face, his voice, still prominent in your mind.

He was a scar on your heart, a reminder that no matter how much you fought against his will, you would never win.

So you ran.

The temple cleared out during the night as you sprinted through the halls, your breath quick and stunted with each slam of your boots against the sleek floor. You weren't sure how long you'd spent with him. How much time passed as you did your best to ignore his advances—to gauge what exactly had to be done. Given that you now knew where he was.

Ashas Ree. A planet taught, yet never visited.

It didn't occur to you to ask why. What was there that made the Jedi wish to ignore it's existence altogether. What had they left behind?

Slowing to a halt, you found yourself stuck between two paths. Each hallway dimly lit and bathed in shadows. You held a choice within your hands. One that could change the trajectory of the Jedi if you were able to succeed. You could forget this instance happened, continue on with being a Knight, and leave this man to someone else.

Or you could find him.

The possibility of putting an end to this problem tasted sweet on your tongue. Yet you couldn't deny the true reason for going.

Curiosity would one day be be the end of you. A saying your master told you repeatedly as you put him through every type of worry he could endure—your need to know more outweighing the logic of whether you should.

The strength he exhibited on Khofar nearly brought you to your knees, his power a force to be reckoned with. Yet there you stood, considering the option of taking him on by yourself. It would conclude with your death—you understood this. Somehow that still wasn't enough to stop you from taking the left path towards the hangar. That alone couldn't deter you from a path already carved by the Force.

A sleek muted gray ship was housed in the corner. You couldn't recall who it belonged to, nor did you find it in yourself to care. Whatever this vision procured—the emotions that began to bleed into your heart with a heady and restless need—there was no fighting against it. The steps taken would lead to an unknown future; a consequence that not even you could see through the Force.

What began would eventually end.

Yet how it would play out remained shrouded in darkness.

Flicking familiar switches and pressing buttons through muscle memory, you felt yourself begin to slide back to your mind. The hum of the ship jumping into hyperspace gave you a moment of silence to converge over your thoughts. To focus on your own Force signature that spread around you with ease.

The teal felt familiar enough to sink down into its depths with a sigh. You shut your eyes, hands falling to your lap, as you allowed yourself to step forward into the darkness. Until you felt it begin to creep up your body—chills spreading down your spine and curling around your stomach.

You expected to be faced with a wall of fear; horrors unlike those you'd seen before. Surprise filled your chest as an image began to take shape—a memory that didn't belong to you.

He sat on the floor of the Jedi Temple. His eyes closed, hands resting on his knees, and hair tied up into a bun that nearly fell free. The black robes he wore with pride were gone, traded for a familiar set of light beige Jedi robes, a perfect match for the ones you wore now.

"You're not focused."

The voice...you'd heard her before. The sharp tone of concise words teaching younglings to train until they reached a level of perfection you only dreamed of obtaining.

Soft brown robes flowed around him as she stalked in a circle. Yet no matter how far you pried, how much you attempted to clear the image, her face refused to form. As if he was merely letting you see a hint of his past. Of the man that once existed in the same place you did. Warmth pooled in your body at that thought; he wanted you to understand him, to see that perhaps you weren't as different as you believed.

"You must feel the Force. Not simply think about it."

He sighed, shifting his body—hair falling free around his face. "I am thinking Master."

"If that were true then I wouldn't be able to see in your mind. Try again."

You stepped closer, lowering yourself to sit across from him—your eyes focused on the furrow of his brows, the way his body tensed. Agitation spread along his form, growing by the second, until you saw it begin to take shape in his mind. Peace didn't come easy. Not when he felt the conflict that plagued his heart, the beliefs he once held true and firm now a distant memory.

Without realizing it, you leaned forward, and pressed your hands atop his. Hoping that in some way, he might feel the soft light of your energy—the warmth of a Jedi's presence willing to help him.

"What do you see?" she asked.

He let out a breath, expression softening. "A...Jedi."

"Good. Who?"

"I...don't know."

"Try harder."

Frustration began to cloud his thoughts, his hands clenching into fists on his legs, and just as you reached for him again, you felt it. The sharp tug of fear against your heart. As if he'd stabbed you with his blade. His eyes flew open, a ragged breath tearing from his throat. You backed away, hands falling to your lap as you awaited the memory to keep going—to see what came next.

Only for him to meet your gaze and see you.

Pain sliced through your head, invading your body as his eyes narrowed perceptively. And you cried out, hands clutching your face, nails scraping against your skin. Maybe if you dug hard enough you'd be able to get him out of your head. You would remove any part of him that weeded through your thoughts, past every wall you'd placed to protect what secrets you held. He picked at your wounds and for a moment you wondered if he held a knife in his hand.

"S-Stop," you forced out past gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Sucking in a sharp breath, you shut your eyes to the image of him, to the vision that must have projected from his own mind. He didn't want you to bear witness to his past. A version of him that once believed in the light, that once hoped he could help the galaxy.

"No," you muttered, shoving him from your mind. But to no avail did it work. He was insistent, angry at knowing you could breach him so easily.

"The power you hold. It will destroy you."

"You don't..." Your nails sliced through the skin of your palm, blood welling to the surface within seconds as you fought against his hold. "You don't know anything."

Though you couldn't see him...you felt his smile. The pleasure he gained simply from finding the weakest point in your mind and running with it. Your power, your strength. For so long you'd feared what you might become, what your abilities could manifest into. Yet they remained a mere figment of your worst nightmares, a reality that may never come to pass.

Meeting him changed that.

He knew it the second he saw you.

"You're scared you won't be able to control it. The darkness you don't show the others."

"Lies," you hissed, beating against the walls he created as he wreaked havoc within your own mind.

"Tell me...does your former Master know you're on your way to me?"

Your heart leapt to your throat, fear numbing every ability you once possessed to fight back. To keep him at bay. No matter how much you wanted to argue, to claim he was wrong, you could feel the truth ring in the back of your mind.

No one knew you were speaking to him. No one knew you'd left.

No one would know why you may never come back.

His laughter echoed through you, burning a hole in your chest large enough for the darkness to seep through.

"Thrilling isn't it? Playing against their rules."

Perhaps if you dug far enough, you could rip the tendrils of him from your mind. Pieces that threatened to ruin you. The darkness promised freedom, yet you could see the repercussions of your actions played out before you like a story already written. Accepting the bittersweet taste of something so tenuous would leave you broken by the end of it. You'd be a shell of the Jedi you grew to become.

A person unwilling to fight back.

"You want me weak." The ship rumbled as you began to claw your way out of his mind and back into yours; the show of your strength echoing through the Force. "You want me to say yes because you know that if I fight back...you won't win."

Whatever retort he had died on the tip of his tongue when your ship left hyperspace—ripping you back to the waking world. You fell back on your elbows with a gasp, eyes zeroing in on the planet directly in front of you. One that you'd seen before. Perhaps it was in a dream, a memory not of your own, but the landscape looked familiar.

Signs of life were sparse—scattered further from where he resided—and part of you felt grateful. If this concluded in a battle you didn't want to be the cause of an innocent's death. The Jedi could never know you came here. The consequences alone would lead you to be cast out of the Order with nowhere else to go.

The ground shook as you landed; the hiss of the door echoed out into the empty clearing. You expected to see wildlife within the thicket of trees that surrounded you. All that showed itself was the glow of the moon above. Illuminating the path carved into the grass by people that came before. You could see the structure ahead—it's grand entrance towered over you, becoming one with the stars that hung above.

Jedi once walked these grounds. Their energy practically hummed in your veins the closer you came to stepping foot on the stone floors. Carvings of old symbols still remained—placed there by a Republic that no longer existed.

An era of Jedi you'd only heard stories of.

The history of the Olde Republic wasn't unknown to the Jedi that existed today. You understood their practices, the ways they viewed the Force. Part of them were lost to the war when they began to form the Order that still remained.

This place should be taught, visited, to keep the remaining legacy of what came before alive. This was the history you wanted to know—a past you could almost picture in your mind.

Stepping into the temple, you felt the energy before you saw it. A constricting echo of nothing that slammed against your chest with a brutality you'd witnessed once before. Gasping, you nearly fell to your knees as the obsidian nature of his Force signature began to seep into the ground. Fighting against it felt futile as it clambered over your body—sinking into your skin. Into the very fiber of your being.

"It's quite beautiful." His voice resonated in the small circular temple.

You sucked in a sharp breath, hands slamming to the cold stone floor—your knees collapsing beneath you. "What the fuck is this place?"

Controlled steps echoed behind you, his black robes brushing the ground as he stopped mere feet away. "The past your Jedi have chosen to hide."

"This is-" Your chest tightened, air sucked from your lungs at the feeling of his power laying above you—crushing you to the ground. "No Jedi temple."

He crouched, head tilted and eyes bleeding with a curiosity he held in the forest. "You continue to defend them, even when you know they haven't told you everything."

Attempting to reach for your lightsaber felt as if you were traveling through sand. It swallowed you whole. Ate at your insides and begged for more. You couldn't see past his power, past the darkness that formed over your body. He could have killed you like this; helpless and weak to his own weapon.

Why he never did is what filled your mind; the same mind screaming for a reprieve from what lay beneath the stone. What called out to you in screeching tones.

"Long before you and I walked this galaxy, this temple was created to hide the powers of what they considered dark and unnatural." He left you to lay on the floor, your back against a symbol you recognized. "They built this above a Sith temple to wipe their existence from history."

"The Sith followed the darkside of the Force," you spit between gritted teeth and tensed muscles. Your body was on fire and yet no one had lit the flame. "They wanted to destroy the galaxy."

Though you couldn't see it, you knew his lips curved into a grin. "Why do you have so much faith in an Order that would do the same to you if they knew where you were?"

Anger fueled your actions, gave you the strength to fight against whatever bonds he created against your body. With a piercing scream, your lightsaber hit the palm of your hand, igniting as you scrambled to your feet. He stood with his back to you—entirely aware yet uncaring of how you struggled against his hold. How the darkness began to seep its way to your heart.

You'd never felt this before.

The anger.

The hatred.

The Jedi taught you to quell that part of yourself before it had a chance to rise up. For so long you allowed their teachings to define you. To put a barrier between peace and bitter anguish. And you held that wall up with pride—with the knowledge that you could center yourself at a moments notice.

Yet he managed to tear it all down within one day.

"Good," he replied, his voice a soft rasp that penetrated the wave of emotions which sought to consume you. "Feel it. The anger."

"I am a Knight of the Jedi Order-" Raising your blade, you felt the hum of it sear against the side of your face. "And I am here to enact my duty."

The familiar echo of his blade coming to life—red illuminating the walls before him—sent a thrill of fear down your spine. One he could no doubt feel through the Force. You weren't scared to die. This had been ingrained in your mind since the day the Jedi found you. No, you felt at ease knowing this fight could only end one way.

You were scared of what might become of you if you slipped beneath the might of his powers.

"You have the strength of the old ways." He turned, brown eyes gleaming crimson as he advanced. "But your duty will be your end."

You felt the wall shatter within your mind—pieces crashing to the ground—as you leapt at him. Blades crashed together, lighting up the night with sparks of teal and red. And you felt how much he held back in the forest. He didn't want to kill you then; the way you called to his intrigue kept him from slicing his lightsaber down your spine.

Tonight you could see the difference. The strength he held back within his body.

A swipe of his blade nearly knocked yours from your hand, but the foot you landed to his leg kept you upright. He barely stumbled, regaining his stance with an agility you'd only seen in the Jedi Temples. You lunged again, aiming for his shoulder only to be knocked out of the way. He shoved you back with the Force—grinning at the sight of you enraged.

"You were a Jedi." A crack echoed in the night air as you landed a hit to his saber. "And you betrayed them."

"Betrayal." He spun, circling you as if you were marked prey. "I was cast aside as you will be. I did not betray the Jedi. I chose differently and they didn't accept that."

"You chose the path to darkness." Something sparked down your spine—foreign in its nature. Yet no matter how much you tried to pinpoint its origin, you came up blank.

"Desire," he replied, lips twitching when your eyes went wide. "The emotion you're fighting."

"Stay out of my head."

He took a step towards you—the hum of his lightsaber electrifying the air. "You're confused why you're feeling that way. You shouldn't be."

"Stop-"

"I can answer your questions." The palm of his hand reached for you—offering his touch. Promising peace in spite of the anger you felt. "If you'd like."

Fear seized in your chest and you stumbled back; your saber raised as your last line of defense. "Desire is the path to the darkside."

"And yet you feel it." The closer he stood, the more you felt his pull. A whispered promise tinged with the lust of more; the want for knowledge overshadowed by the truth of his beliefs. "You should feel all they make you push down. I can see that's what you want. Let me show you how."

Temptation ate away at your heart, claiming you in ways you'd never felt before. Yet the dread of what you'd been taught began to strike. Rearing in your mind with a vengeance that overtook what he offered. You flinched, eyes narrowed and hands gripped tightly onto your lightsaber as he took another step.

"No!" Your hand flew out, a push of strength bursting free. He slid back, his hand slamming to the ground to keep himself from falling.

That's when you saw it. His patience snapped, anger breaching the otherwise calm exterior he attempted to give you. This was the Sith that lay beneath his seduction. The man you caught glimpses of in your mind. He surged forward, saber striking down against yours hard enough to rattle your bones. Each hit felt as if you were battling something stronger—older.

You could feel the weariness in your body as you blocked and parried as often as you could. Spinning on your heel, you fell to one knee as he struck down a blow that resonated against the stone. Cracking it along the grooves of the center.

There was no mercy in how he battled. No offering of penance. He was your executioner come to life—the promise of death quick to fall from his tongue as he placed you in a corner.

He dragged you forward with a pull of the Force, crimson clashing with teal as you blocked his strike. And pride swelled in your chest at the sight of the frustration that crossed his face. This was not a fight as quick to the death as Khofar was. You would battle until your final breath and he seemed to realize that the longer you went.

"You die here today," you spit, struggling against his weight.

Pain sliced through your side, burning its way through your body as his lips pulled at the corners. Eyes alight in a way you'd never seen. He was amused by your fight—your willingness to die for the Jedi's beliefs. Yet you did the one thing everyone fell for on Khofar.

You underestimated him.

Yanking the small red blade from your side, he watched your face fall. Fear lacing your heart with a poison that held no antidote. This would be where you would have your last moment. The place he'd leave you to rot. But unlike what came before, he caught you in his hold, lowering you gently to the ground—his hand reaching to cup your face.

"You're afraid," he murmured, thumb tracing the top of your cheek. "You don't want to die."

Whether he could see it painted across your face or find it in your thoughts, the truth remained the same. You didn't want your story to end here. You couldn't fathom a death so small compared to what you'd been raised to believe. Jedi's were warriors. They were the protectors of the light; the keeper of peace.

Yet there you were, withering in the darkness and begging for hope.

"Let me in." His hand slid down to your gaping wound—pressing it gently even as you cried out in pain. "I can help you."

"You'll kill me." Even when you spoke, you understood the gravity of your situation.

He offered you salvation—safety within his hands—and yet you were willing to die. Teachings of your past suddenly felt minuscule as you stared death in the face. This would not be peaceful; you could feel the ravages of your injury begin to seep through your body. And he watched while you grappled with a choice that may very well set the path of your future.

Let me see your darkness. Let me help you control it.

His voice soothed the calamity in your veins. His touch a caress against your open robes—his skin hot against yours.

The look on his face—the clarity in his gaze—may be why you finally relented. Why you nodded slowly, fear traveling through every inch of your already broken body. He watched you with a desire that you'd only read about in stories. A feeling you'd pushed away at every waking moment. One that haunted you like the ghosts of this temple.

"Please," you breathed, hand clutching his robes.

Shifting you higher, he bent his head—his palm covering your wound—and pressed his lips to yours. Electricity streaked down your spine the moment you felt his kiss. His mouth was firm, yet soft in their nature when he gripped you closer. You gasped into it, hand cupping his face as he breached your mind slowly—gently enough to make you look past the act.

Until you felt it.

The warmth that bloomed beneath your skin when your body began to stitch itself together. He pushed the Force of his life through your veins—seeping it slowly into your heart. His thoughts melded with yours, memories of a past you never lived filtered through your mind. But he remained firm and solid in the way he kissed you. His tongue slipping past your parted lips to taste you, to take what he never got to on Khofar.

"I can give you more," he mumbled against your cheek, lips sliding along the curve of your jaw. "All that you want."

You would later blame his life Force, or the thoughts you were privy to. But the word yes slipped off your tongue with ease. A quickness that nearly left you startled.

This was forbidden. Every moment spent here would damn you to an eternity of punishment. Yet his touch felt delicious against your body as he pulled up your robes—spreading them open on the floor of the temple. You should have pushed him away. Dragged your lightsaber towards you and sunk it into his chest. And part of you wanted to.

Part of you ached to kill him.

Though no matter how hard you tried...you couldn't discern whether that stemmed from the throbbing heat between your legs. Or the violent echo in your heart.

His eyes caught your bleary gaze—pupils blown out and dark as he regarded you with a searing look you felt to your bones. "How do you want this?"

"I..." A burning heat spilled beneath the skin of your cheeks, spreading down to your chest. "I don't know," you whispered.

He smiled and you couldn't help but notice how he bared his teeth. Hunger etched on every line of his face. He liked that you were lost; that this was going to be the first and only time someone would touch you this way.

He suddenly felt the urge to claim you, call you his in every way that could exist within this galaxy.

Chalking it up to the ache in his body, he waited for your head to clear. "I can show you. Teach you."

A nod of your head set him off, he pulled at your pants until they pooled with the remainder of your robes. You lay bare beneath the moon—hands reaching to touch him—and felt that nothing this pleasurable should be wrong.

How could the Jedi claim a feeling like this as dark? How could having your needs be met be so horrendous to their beliefs?

With a gasp, you rose up on your elbows to watch him hoist your legs over the wide breadth of his shoulders. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs—eyes fixed on the way you practically dripped onto the stone floor. You were given a second to breath before the oxygen was pulled from your lungs and his mouth sealed over your cunt.

"Maker!" Your body fell to the ground in a heap—head dazed as he laved his tongue between your slick folds with a need never shown before.

He groaned at your taste, the tang of you spread along his taste buds, and felt his body throb at the sight of you. So open, so willing to let him devour you whichever way he wanted.

The burning need from earlier began to build in your body, tightening along each muscle and pulling at your stomach. Your hand dug into his hair, fingers curling against his scalp as he sucked at your clit. And you had no choice but to moan—to let your sounds echo in the air and fall back down. If someone were to pass by they'd see you—hear you.

They'd bear witness to how you sank deeper into the darkness with a dazed smile on your lips.

A finger pushed at your entrance, curling into you slowly in search of something hidden within. You were wet—dripping down his hand—and he merely smiled into you. His tongue lapped against you as he sunk into you down to the knuckle. Dragging along your walls until your legs jolted—a cry ripping from your chest at the feeling of him brushing something devastating.

"There." Your head fell back, hips canting up into his face. "Yes. Fuck right there."

The wet echo of his fingers pounding into you drove you mad. He dragged you the brink with a merciless hand and you followed him with a gasped cry of bliss. Something broke within you—spreading through your body rapidly—as your legs shook and toes curled.

He groaned drunkenly into your cunt, eyes half lidded and cheeks stained the color of his lightsaber. You cried out when he sucked at your clit—curling his fingers mercilessly as lust clouded his vision. The unknown feeling you'd fought for so long began to eat at your body. Building along your spine, spreading through your stomach. Until you held no choice but to relent to its power.

"W-What's happening?" you whined, fingers tugging at his hair.

You weren't sure if you wanted to rip him away or keep him close.

The response you got was a heady moan muffled into your slicked thighs. Slick poured out of you, drenching the floor below. Your hips began to shift of their own volition—grinding against his mouth as you struggled for breath. For a semblance of peace against the war of pleasure that ripped you apart.

He sucked hard and the tension in your body snapped.

"F-Fuck!" you sobbed, thighs shaking and body bending off the floor.

Heat blinded you as white flashed behind your shut eyelids—a vibration unlike any you'd felt before now surging up and out of you. The stone floor cracked to the center; your strength sending a wave through the Force strong enough to break anything nearby.

He curled his arms around your legs, clamping down to keep steady. Even as the power rushed through him—tempted to shove him off and across the room. His tongue was a continued to lap at your entrance, drinking down every drop of that you fed into his open and waiting mouth. A broken moan ripped from your chest—body weary and sore—and yet you let him keep going.

Even as he licked until pain spliced up your stomach. A sharp discomfort you relished in.

"Tell me," he panted, climbing his way up your body—his lips trailing a wet line of kisses up your sternum. "Did the Jedi ever tell you about that?"

You grinned, hazy and languid in your newfound bliss. "I want more."

He smiled. "I can give you more."

Whatever convictions existed before you came here died in the back of your mind when his hips settled between yours. The heavy outline of his now hard cock was a firm press against your dripping cunt. It made you whimper. Made you needy. He watched you with glee in his eyes as you reached beneath his robes to feel him—the press your skin against his.

"Do you want it?" he asked softly, thrusting forward and tearing a moan from your throat.

"Yes," you gasped. "Please. I want it."

Moving your hands to rest above your head, he shifted his robes the best he could—the fabric soft against the inside of your thighs. You watched in rapture as he pulled his cock free; the sight of the red and leaking tip only serving to make your mouth water. The need from before now burning quicker. Brighter.

"Stay still," he murmured against your lips, stealing a kiss when you nodded.

Entirely at his will.

You felt him slide through your slick, coating himself with a raspy moan, before he pressed at your entrance. The head of his throbbing cock breaching you slowly. Stretching you with the slight flicker of pain. Only for him to push forward with a gritted moan. His forehead falling to yours as you gasped for air—for anything that might keep you latched to the surface of the planet.

"So perfect," he managed to bite out, his hips finally atop yours.

Your mouth fell open at how full you felt. How he pressed against your walls and carved a place for himself inside your body. Whatever path you might have taken before tonight vanished before your very eyes. This was always meant to be your future.

He is what you were led to.

"Okay?" His eyes met your blurry gaze—tears dripping down into your hair. "Speak to me love."

A ragged breath echoed in the temple. "'M good."

His lips curled up. "I'm going to move now."

"Will it hurt?" you asked, hesitancy lingering in your voice.

The grin bloomed into a smile as he shifted his hips back, thrusting into you slowly and striking against your walls. Pushing the spot he found before. Only this time the brief tendrils of pleasure burned through you like a roaring flame.

"Oh-"

"You like that don't you?" You nodded frantically, hands still obediently above your head. "Such a pretty thing. So willing."

"Yes," you whined, legs curling around his hips with each thrust.

The reverence from before slowly faded each time he plunged into your cunt. His groans muffled into the skin of your shoulder. He fucked you with a passion that would linger. A feeling you'd search for in the middle of the night—begging for the release you once had. His teeth scraped against your skin, fingers digging sharply into your hips, and you jolted when he shifted the angle.

Pounding down into you and pulling free sounds you'd never made before.

"All mine to have," he breathed against your cheek, lips catching yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongue. "They would dare to throw away someone to perfect."

"Maker I'm gonna-" Your head fell back, eyes screwed shut as the tension began to build again.

"Yes," he gasped, cupping your ass to help your stunted movements. "Cum for me. Give me everything."

The pleasure eviscerated you. Slammed into your body with a vengeance and ripped every doubt you had about him from the very root up. He moaned against your chest as you came with a scream. Your thighs clamping around his and body curling up in search of his heat. A hand latched onto your back, holding you close, as you drenched his cock until it smeared on the inside of your thighs.

You couldn't find your way out of this maze. The darkness shrouded you in a layer of warmth—seeping into your body with ease. Yet that isn't what horrified you. That isn't what made the hair stand up on the back of your neck as he chased his own release.

What scared you was that you liked it.

You longed for it.

He came with a hoarse shout, spurting into you and filling you with warmth that you felt spread throughout your body. It consumed you. Welcomed you with a heady kiss and the promise of more. And you drank it down like the finest glass of wine.

The lingering echo of your Force signature still flickered in the background. You refrained from reaching for it. Content to remain in this river of peace that sank you down to the bottom.

His lips found yours, tongue sliding hotly into your open mouth. You returned his kiss with a fervor you didn't know you held. A wanting that now knew what the full extent of desire felt like. A need that would crave more.

"I-I liked it," you whispered against his lips. His cum slowly dripped out and around his softening cock. You yearned for him to show you again. "All of it."

"Good," he murmured. "There's so much more to show you."

"When?"

"Soon," he said, gathering you in his arms with a kiss to your forehead. "I promise my love. You'll know all of it."

You awoke to the echo of birdsong. The bright ray of sunlight blared down through the ceiling, turning the once cold stone beneath your skin hot. It burned you as you shifted, arm searching for the warmth of another that lay beside you.

Sometime in the night he began to tell you the history of what he knew. The people that once walked these temple floors. The Sith whose memory still echoed beyond time and space. This was their legacy. A path that you would soon take as your own. Yet the doubt of what it would cost still lingered at the edges of your mind; the reality you would soon have to face.

He would be hunted.

Sought out by the Jedi who would want revenge for what happened on Khofar. By joining him, you would be setting yourself up for a fate worse than death.

When your touch came up empty, your eyes fluttered open. Expecting him to be mediating somewhere nearby, you sat up still naked from hours before. A sore ache bloomed between your thighs, spreading down your legs. Each bite he placed on your skin remained tender to the touch, and you smiled at the memory they would incite.

"Hello?" you called, hoping to draw him back. To hopefully entice him for more.

Silence was all you were met with as you stood on shaky legs. Gathering your robe, you draped it around yourself—your lightsaber already clutched in your hand. You searched for his presence in the Force; picked through the life on this planet in the hopes of finding the one you recognized.

Only to be left with an empty voice.

An expanse of nothing.

Pain sliced through your heart, shattering a piece you didn't know existed. You watched it fall to the floor—breaking you open without mercy. Without forgiveness. What hope you had that he might find you again diminished as you gathered the rest of your robes and headed back to your ship still in the clearing. The truth of what occurred, now a solid belief in your mind.

Last night you offered yourself up to the darkside of the Force and this was your consequence.

To be left alone, waiting for your lovers return that would never come.

#this took me so long to write but it's finally HERE #qimir x f!reader #qimir x reader #qimir x you #qimir x y/n #qimir smut #the stranger x reader #the stranger x you #the stranger x y/n #the stranger smut #my writing #the acolyte

275 notes · View notes

yanderemommabean · 1 year ago

Note

ive had a thought about yandere sugar daddy like 👀👀👀 the chaos but also yes pls take care of me hehe

You tell him to fuck off and he keeps coming back. You don’t want his money, you don’t ask for it, that night was just a one night stand but he doesn’t really take your answers unless it’s yes.

He insists. Persists more than anything. You thank him for the gifts and even send some back but he simply won’t back off.

You think maybe if you sleep with him again it’ll get out of his system, so you have an admittedly mind blowing and earth shaking night together, but by morning you suddenly have a few thousand in your bank account and a cheeky smile greeting you when you throw a mug towards him in the kitchen.

“Oh hello! Anyway so about your plans tomorrow- if I pay you now care to cancel them? I’d love to have that time for me and you, business trips over seas get me jittery and you know just how to fix me up”.

“I don’t want your money” you sneer, blanket wrapped around your body as you try and explain this as thoroughly as possible, to get it through his thick skull. “I thought big business men like you would love a no strings attached thing anyway! Look just- stop, stop with the finance and everything. I mean it’s appreciated but not wanted. How am I even supposed to explain this to my tax guys?!?”

All you get in return is a snort, the man just sips from his drink and shakes his head. “Seems I owe Victoria that dinner in Paris” he murmurs “I forget the common folk can’t just pay off any issues. But this is your chance isn’t it? Just a bit of fun between the two of us for a while? “

Something about those words seemed hollow at best. With how hard he worked to break your walls down and get you back in bed, you were sure there was more than just playful fun. No. Those eyes held something more sinister, more dangerous.

“Fine. I’ll give you three months and we’re done. I’m also changing my bank account information and getting a new one entirely” you say as you turn around to get dressed and not look like you went through a bad dry cycle in the laundry room. You were too exhausted to try and think of anything else to say to him anyway.

He just smirks, reaching to pull you a mug down that wasn’t shattered in the sink behind him. His fingers brush over the ceramic as he thinks about when to get a matching pair. Maybe for Christmas? Valentine’s Day? Whichever fits the best.

Oh you’re so cute to think you can set a deadline with him. So precious. No, you dear sweet succulent being, no. You’re his. He isn’t letting you go. If anything, since he finally lured you back, his grip is tighter, more possessive.

He wonders if you’ll like the room he’s planning on building soon. Just for you. Then while you’re with him he can spoil you as he pleases, you don’t get to turn off your phone and ignore him all day then.

He’ll get to lavish you like you deserve. Maybe even spoil himself too if he’s honest, as he has a bit of an addiction to watching you fall apart from his touch and his words. Your eyes just look so pretty when they roll back like that!

-Mommabean (shush I’m not unhinged you are! Totally! I’m sooo not foaming at the mouth for this pshh no way! )

#mommabean #yandere sugar daddy #yandere male #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x reader

2K notes · View notes

marvelwinchester67 · 9 months ago

Text

I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.

Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can

Read at your own risk

What. The. Fuck. Guys.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!

IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!

AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS

Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)

So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that

I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)

So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!

I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter

But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now

ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)

Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet

I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2

So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long

Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it

And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs

Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts

To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.

Everyone has beef with Susan now.

There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel spoilers #vivziepop #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #sir pentious #Cherri bomb #Cherri and sir pentious #husk x angel dust #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar

592 notes · View notes

supershot73199 · 4 months ago

Text

Hello I am back with the next of my Batfam react to Danny killing Joker story's. This one is set in the same au as my Dawn's Big Daddy story though i haven't decided if it will be canon to that story yet. Story under the read more.

There will be a bit of a graphic description in this one so gore warning here

Cass was simultaneously pissed and terrified. Not for herself of course but for her ballet students. The Joker and his thugs took the entire class and their parents hostage and with so many kids Cass knew trying to fight could result in dead children and she left her emergency beacon in her office changing room.

When the thugs finished taking them to the warehouse where the Jokers latest scheme would take place she, the kids and any mothers were taken to a massive cage where they were locked in, while any fathers were taken and had been handcuffed to chains connected to electronic winches, including her boyfriend Danny.

Normally Cass wouldn't be worried about her boyfriend as he was a excellent fighter and had a ghost form that was of a comparable power level to heroes like Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and of course Superman. However with the number of hostages he would not act rashly, instead waiting for an opportunity where he can act with minimal to no risk for the innocents.

But their captor was the Joker, an unhinged clown who enjoyed the pain of others and who was unpredictable enough to stump world class detectives like her family. He would not hesitate to torture or even kill one of the kids if he had the whim cross his mind and he had pretty good reflexes so it would be hard to guarantee no hostages would be in danger before they act.

Cass felt her rage and fear bleed out when she felt a small hand grab hers for comfort. Dawn was Danny's daughter, the light of his life, the single most important thing in his life, and honestly she was quickly becoming the same thing for Cass. Even though she loved Danny and he loved her they both knew that if it came down to a choice to save only one of them they would each save Dawn first. (Hypothetically at least. Cass knew they would just save both in reality because they were good enough to or would get backup that would allow them too.)

"I'm scared." Whispered the young girl. Cass quickly scooped her up in a hug before softly comforting her.

"It's OK Your Daddy is strong he won't let this clown hurt him or us."

"I know that. Daddys the strongest there is but what if one of my friends get hurt?" Cass couldn't stop the soft grin at the faith in her father that the little girl had.

"Because he's the strongest means he won't let anyone get hurt." Cass responded with conviction. Before Dawn gave a accepting nod.

"OK I believe in Daddy."

Before Cass could say anything else the Joker ordered his men out of the room as they finished handcuffing the last of the fathers. Danny was front and center and Cass couldn't help notice the look of defiance in his eyes. The Joker as soon as the last of his men had left to their guard positions turned on a camera before stepping back and speaking with his usual cheer.

"Hello Gotham, it's your favorite Clown Prince of Crime here and today I have some special guests with us today. You might recognize a few of them. Why it's none other the Bruce Wayne's only daughter and her pretty little boytoy!! They've been all over the news recently and in case you've been living under a rock recently they have been called Gothams cutest couple. So you just know I had to give them my congratulations."

As the Joker was monologing he picked up the camera and used it to focus on Danny and Cass respectively though Cass had put herself between Joker and Dawn, which gave the clown a sick pleasure, she could see it in his posture.

"Now as for our performance tonight we have a group of loving fathers and their beloved children and wives in our audience. Batsy here's what's going to happen, you and your brood are going to have to find my men hidden all around Gotham with cannisters of my Laughing Gas. When you find them my men will let me know and you will have sixty seconds to defeat my men and disable the release trigger, if you fail well..."

As the Joker trailed off he pressed a button that activated the winches pulling the men until they were all hanging off the floor without their feet touching the ground.

"I will kill one of these fathers infront of their wives and children, and don't even think about cheating because if my guys see you on this camera before their bombs been disabled they will trigger it remotely. Better hurry Batman I don't think shoulders can hold that much weight for very long!" The Joker let out a mad cackle before he was interrupted.

"So now your a gameshow host? I thought you were the clown prince of crime." Danny brave beautiful Danny taunted the Joker who stopped and walked closer.

"Well I'm a Clown of many talents and in my eternal quest to bring more smiles to Gotham I have to branch out from typical clown behavior." Cass could see the irritation in the Jokers body language, he hates being questioned after all.

"Still couldn't you have picked a different suit? You always wear the same thing. Variety is the spice of life after all." Danny continued to antagonize Joker.

The Joker stepped closer to Danny still not quite close enough for Danny's plan though.

"As if your one to talk. Look at you!" Cass wasn't sure what Joker meant by that as Danny was dressed in form fitting exercise clothes meant for dancing, as they had been about to have a class when the Joker showed up. Maybe he's jealous of Danny's muscles?

"I was kidnapped with no warning from a dance class, you had the benefit of planning this and having time to prepare. Admit it you just got lazy and didn't want to put in the effort to look good for your scheme." Danny once again acted to antagonize the clown. Who finally stepped right up to where Danny was hanging while ranting at him.

"How dare you claim I didn't put in the effort! My look is iconic and if you can't see greatness maybe I should use your daughter as an exam-urgk." The Joker was cut off and Danny swung his legs up to wrap them around the Jokers neck. Unfortunately the Jokers reflexes kicked in causing him to start ducking leaving Danny to have his thighs around the Jokers head rather than his neck. Thankfully the sudden jerk from Danny hitting the Joker caused him to drop the gun he had been pulling out of his coat.

Cass watched as the two struggled in a stalemate, Danny couldn't shift his legs enough to get them around the Jokers neck to choke him into unconsciousness and the Joker was unable to get free from Danny's vice like leg lock. Cass realized that unless her family showed up immediately then the Joker would eventually slip free and go after Dawn.

As she realized what had to happen Cass noticed as Danny's body language showed he came to the same conclusion. The couple shared a look of understanding. Cass would never have considered this before and if there was any other way she wouldn't be considering it now. But even with his powers there isn't really another solution as the Joker holds a grudge.

"Turn around class face away, even you Dawn." Cass said quickly acting to make sure the children didn't see what came next, the mothers and older students quickly following her lead.

"I'm scared momma." Cass started quickly bending down to hug Dawn again. Cass didn't think she realized what she actually said and in a way it made it more special to her, which filled her heart with love and resolve.

As soon as all the younger students were facing the wall Cass nodded to Danny who immediately shifted his legs one more time before Cass saw his muscles clench. There was a muffled sound where the Jokers mouth was pressed against Danny's thigh, that Cass couldn't tell if it was a laugh or scream. She watched as he clawed at Danny desperately trying to get loose until with a sickening crack and squelch he went limp, as his head was crushed between Danny's thighs like that watermelon Cass had crushed on a dare from Steph.

She looked on with disgust as pieces of the Jokers brain and skull stuck to the man she loved. The spray from the crush had covered Danny and she could see him struggling to not throw up.

"That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen." Cass head snapped to the teenage girl who said that. Said girl quickly grew a massive blush.

"What? We were all thinking it. I wonder how long until someone makes a gif online from that livestream."

Cass blinked in bafflement as the other girls agreed even if they felt it shouldn't be said out lound to the girl before remembering that this was being broadcast live. Which meant all of Gotham saw what just happened.

It was only a little while later when her family finally showed up that she realized that Barbara and Jason would probably be two of the people making it into a gif and she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. At least she got confirmation that the child she loved as her own daughter felt the same way about her.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny fenton #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dead silent #tw gore #Jason absolutely gifs that moment #it becomes an internet trend for young people in gotham to try to crush a watermelon painted like the jokers face #Jasons video has the most views #he was dressed as red hood when he did it #well he had the most before out of town heroes take up the trend #supergirl and starfire both do it #Jazz cant handle Karas #gotham even had a festival where people tried to do it in public #Dawn not realizing Danny had done this to a mans head begs her papa to enter the competition #he won and Cass finally got what people meant by saying they found it hot

237 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 7 months ago

Note

I am not sure if you have done it already but:

Yandere x affection-starved Black Sheep darling?

Hear me out: a darling who is so used that their golden child sibling takes everything from them, from nice clothing/stuff to dates with potential partners. The sibling just steals everything away. And the parents only praise the sibling but never darling. Whenever bad something happened, darling is the one who gets to blame.

Neglected, traumatised and emotionally deprived they meet the yanderes, 100% believing they are just "interested" in them bc they want their sibling and are absolutely convinced & annoyed by their shows of affection (when in fact they are just scared to be hurt which always had been the case before).

Saying stuff like "Y'know, why dont you ask them directly? Stop using me to get closer to them!" And are absolutely puzzled by the reaction, when yan stress that they dont want anything from their relative. They want their darling.

And proceed to be persistent on that statement until darling believes them.

Well, basically this 👇🏼

I absolutely LOVE this kind of dynamic ♡^♡

Not only would all of them DESPISE the sibling (and the rest of the family) for beating their darling this much down, that darling does not have the heart to trust and love - including themselves - anymore, but are on edge to wipe them off from the face of earth. I say on edge because:

It would be too easy just to kill them. No. They have to suffer at first.

The most fun part: all yanderes have some sort of power / & wealth, which appeals the siblings (bc they are basic beaches) and try to seduce and snatch them away from darling like they always used to. And yanderes noticing, pulling strings to slowly but surely for the sibling to fall into insanity and ruin them once and for all.

Dr. Kry, my most favourite boy (Bonus: affectionate!cured!Darling x yan!Dr as it just fits 🤌��✨ to my favourite ship dynamic like a glove✨🤌🏻 that picture above🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻)

Dr. Kry would be on a whole new level of persistence and pettiness. You thought he was controlling, manipulative and unhinged 100%? Make it 200% :)

I can imagine how he would look down at the sibling when they show up to "visit their little troublemaker", showing themselves off, bragging how good they are "to come by" (however they never seem to ask to see darling directly though) and proceed to claim that darling is just overly dramatic and should "give you a break, and you shouldn't believe everything what they say. They just making it up". Laughing behind the back of darling's "sickness".

Remember that bloodphobia thoughts I have written? Yeah, imagine the rage if our beloved Dr. Kry finds out that the sibling is the key reason who triggered the phobia in the first place. Like humiliation in front of the class when darling got their first time period and sibling "pranked" them by lying to them that they are dying or sm HOMAGOSH HE WOULD BE SO MAD >:D

After finally persuading darling that he loves obsesses about them and not and never anyone else, month after month reassuring his likeness to darling, (Dr. Kry, a patient man) they start dating once darling surprisingly gets better after startint to believe him.

As a well-respected doctor and a rich man (I mean to remember you said he hardly spended his money, thus posessing goods) their sibling tries to seduce him but he shuts them down every time. In front of darling, in front of family, in front of everyone, in a humiliating way. Absolutely no f*cks given that he is talking to the "golden child". Then he starts to pull on the strings really hard. From making their sibling's wedding/relationships plans cancel to destroying their career and material possessions. But no one would suspect them bc Dr. Kry had taken care of it and happily cut ties off between darling and their obnoxious family already before.

His little one will never have to suffer anymore. And they gradually heal. With him on their side. Forever.

He would definitely have a saviour complex in this AU lol

Blue, what are you doing lately? HOW are you doing? I wish you a wonderful day my dear and hope you enjoyed my thought process again ^*^ 💕

(btw, I am fine. Really, without sarcasm, I come from a very loving family with a wonderful supporting sibling lmaoooo. So, pls don't worry XD As a fellow overthinker I feel the need to clear that hah~

Just loooove the creepy but strangely endearing vibes of these relationships lol There's just something catchy about them right???) And your OCs are just.... so FUN TO EXPLORE???!!! Like OMG, I love them and your stories all so. much! It really gives me motivation and kicks me into writing AGAIN after so many damn years of writer's block (but oc x oc. I find reader perspective strange ngl) even though I am not very strong in writing xD I write. But not that good...

Anyway take care of yourself and have a great week! 🤭❤

Byeeeee~

Fun fact about the black sheep concept: I actually have a black sheep character. Check out the 'Secrets' oneshot and you will see how Ares talks about Silas🤭 but a black sheep yn could also be quite cool???

I love how you wrote Kry, that's so cool to think about. He would 100% go out of his way to ruin your siblings life after everything they've deprived you off!! Doesn't he already have a savior complex? A white knight complex? At least a little? This is probably one of the few times there will be a happy ending with Kry lmaooo

What I'm doing lately? I am taking an 5h 20min test this Saturday (the entirety of it is 8h 50 min including breaks) so that's not very fun, but I think that my life is slowly starting to get better. I think that my legs are starting to heal from my injury, I have saved up money and my best friend comes home next week!! She moved to Germany 3 years ago. I miss her so much, we have been friends for 11 years and she has always taken care of me. She's the type to give me her jacket if I say that I'm cold and to warm my hands under her shirt. Only princess behavior here🥰

Haha don't worry, I'm the same. I'm a big overthinker (its better now though) who comes from a loving family, but youre right about that there's just something so interesting about yanderes lmao. Thank you so much foe liking them, I love to create characters that really feel human, because they make rhe story feel more alive that way!!

I totally get that you mean by oc x oc, moat of my private stories are that way, bur oc x you works better for Tumblr which is why these stories have that format!! Normally I write in 3d person with a fixed main character!

Please please write and show me!!! Feel free to reach out if you ever need some writing advice!! I'm not professional, but sometimes it's nice to just bounce thoughts with someone else<3

#missmerymoon #yandere doctor #yandere oc

225 notes · View notes

harrystylesfan2686 · 8 months ago

Text

Jealous

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Summary:Rhsyand reacts to you giving Helion the attention he wants.

A/N: hehe First ask! I hope you like this!! @dragon-grisha-fae

Dialogue prompts Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

You were at the High Lords meeting with Rhysand. As a part of the Inner Circle, you are to be there and with the coldest persona as a mask of Night Court. Everyone else puts it on, not letting anyone see their actual personality, but not you. No. You are all happy and talking with everyone, still rude to the people who deserve it, but overall, no.

You feel Rhysand's glare at the back of your head while talking with Helion and ignore it. It's the ending of the meeting, several people have already left but you just couldn't leave without talking to Helion first. He is your actual High Lord after all. You having come from Day Court at his command as his emmesary to Nigh Court 'to straighten the bond between the two courts' as he said.

You were angry him at first, almost throwing a tantrum but refrained for for you dignity. You heard all about the cruelties of Night Court and were scared to go there, not that you would ever admit. You had especially requested to saty at Valaris if you had to, and rejected all the options that included going to the Court of Nightmares, which irritated Rhysand.

When you realized that you rather enjoyed the irritated and unhinged look on Rhysand, you made it your life mission to anger the hel out of him. It's not like he could throw you out, you were a important person.

So now, you go against every order he gives. Doesn't matter if he's your high lord, you'll still disobey him. It's how it's always been between the two of you. You never listen to anything he says and he keeps trying to get you to.

Helion and you laugh loudly at his joke, which gains you looks from the other people surrounding the room. You hear someone clear a throat behind you and turn to look at Rhysand who has a weird expression on his face."As sadden as I am to intrupt you two catching up, I'm afraid we have to go."

"Already, Rhysand?" Helion raises an eyebrow at the two of you and you sigh. Rhysand nods and you stay silent, glaring at him as he and Helion exchange goodbyes.

"Alright, then. Goodbye Y/N." Helion turns to you and you instanty beam at him with the brightest smile as he kisses your cheek. You then follow Rhysand to the rest of your group. You eye him from the conner of your eye because he's glaring ahead at nothing.

You try to think back of any moment that would've happened durning the meeting that upset him but can't think of anything. When you are all back at Velaris, in Rhysand's office, discussing notes of the conversations. You try to add something to the current topic and Rhysand scoffs, saying, "I didn't know you were paying attention while giggling with Helion all day."

You are caught off guard and can't do anything but stare at him in confusion for a second but gather yourself quickly and respond with a smirk, "Why? Are you jealous?"

He scoffs but thankfully stays silent for the rest of the evening. When the inner circle meeting is over and every body leaves except for you and him. You are sorting through some papers when you accidentally knock down the pen stand to the floor.

You sigh and bend to clean the mess you made at the same time you hear Rhysand say under his breath, "For gods' sake, can't you do anything properly." You freeze and wonder if he actually said it. You stand and turn to him,"What's gotten into you?" He doesn't even look at you as he says,"Whatever do you mean."

"You have been scoffing and huffing over day when I haven't even done anything to you." Your brows furrow in anger. He rolls his eyes.

"Rhysand!" You yell when he doesn't say anything.

"What?!" He finally looks at you.

"What is your problem?"

You watch him clench his jaw so hard, you think he'll break. After a minute of you keeping your eyes on one another in anger, he closes his eyes in annoyance and finally says,"You- smiled at him."

You blink.

He sighs again and stands up, taking a step toward you, he says in a lot calmer tone. "You smiled at him. You never smile at me." Your eyes widen in realisation.

"No way. You are actually jealous." You can't control the laugh that comes out of your mouth.

"I am not." His brows furrow in annoyance.

"You know I never thought I'd see the day, when you, the High Lord of Night Court would be jealous of Helion." You are still laughing. Rhysand frowns at you. "Not that I'm saying he isn't attractive, he is. A lot but-"

"Stop it." He snaps.

"Will you admit that you're jealous?" You smirk.

His lips curl up. Both of you breathing heavy, the only thing you can focus on right now is how close the two of you are to one another. How perfect he looks, flushed with anger and eyes dancing over your face. And then before you know it, Your lips are to his.

You don't know who started it, only that he feels oh so good in your arms as your hands roam over his body as if having their own mind. And before you realize what was going on, you're laying naked in his office, limbs tangled with each other and wondering what you'll do now.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #rhys #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhys x you #rhys x y/n

267 notes · View notes

astupidweeb69 · 8 months ago

Note

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #fanfiction #i got mail!#my thoughts #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta scenarios #creepypasta x reader #yandere ticci toby x reader #tobyposting #ticci toby headcanons #yandere ticci toby #ticci toby x you

273 notes · View notes

the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago

Text

I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

--------

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

#Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 11 months ago

Text

It was actually rather hard to decide how to begin this meta post because there are essentially going to be two main parts: why Crowley does not actually avoid/run from his problems and why "going off" is not a bad thing regardless.

Then I wrote the first part and realised this is now 2.5k words long, so uhhhh I will grant part 2 its own post.

With that, welcome back to Alex's today-not-unhinged meta corner!

I am going to approach this topic from a psychological angle, which a lot of people have already done, but without explicitly mentioning it or going into depth. All my information comes from personal experience, research, my therapist, and my psychiatrist, just so you know I am not making shit up. I actually dug up some resources my therapist gave me a while ago.

Generally, there are four different fear/survival responses: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Most people have probably heard about fight and flight, since those two are usually the only ones that are mentioned/taught, so I will stick to explaining the other two.

"Fawning" refers to actively being submissive and subdued, both physically and emotionally. The goal is to appear non-threatening and to calm whoever is causing the fear response in the first place. It shows up as being overly agreeable, not having thoughts/opinions of your own and ignoring them if you do, your body language changing (e.g., making yourself smaller, taking up less space), and generally attempting to 'keep the peace' or reinstate it.

"Freezing" is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin—you freeze. It means slipping into a dissociative state, which disconnects you from your body, your emotions/mind, and/or the outside world. Usually, people stop being able to talk well or at all, they do not move, and if they do, it is on autopilot; you do not fight or flee, you simply exist until what is causing the fear response is over.

While dissociating, your brain is unable to form full memories—and depending on how heavily you are dissociating, it does not form any memories at all.

Freezing as a response happens when fight, flight, and fawn aren't possible anymore, e.g., a child who has no internal mechanisms to deal with large amounts of fear because it's a child, so the only way to escape the pain and aggressor is by fleeing into your mind and shutting down.

Why am I telling you all this? Because most people tend to have one or two survival responses that dominate/they usually fall back on, and the same goes for Aziraphale and Crowley.

When faced with an outside problem and a lot of stress, Aziraphale's first instinct is to fawn, to placate the person, to diffuse the situation, to make sure everyone is agreeing, or, at the very least, submitting to authority figures or aggressors. It is what heaven teaches them—stick to the rules, don't ask questions, do what you are told. If fawning involves lying, he will do so, here the need for safety is stronger than his desire to be truthful and stick to his morals.

Unfortunately, the fact that this is his primary fear response is also the reason behind his extreme cognitive dissonance. How can you stick to the rules when you do not know what the rules ARE? So he is stuck trying to figure out what is "good" and what is "bad" so he can be a good angel and avoid doing anything that might be seen as bad or disobedient.

His secondary response to stress or fear is to fight—once it's clear that fawning won't work, he can and will switch over to being more direct and aggressive/less submissive. We see that happening when he gets discorporated in season 1 and needs to get back to earth, at the airbase, or when the bookshop gets attacked.

If I were to ask you what you think Crowley's primary fear response is, how would you respond?

Well, if you said "flight"—you're wrong, and I will explain why.

Flight is his secondary fear response, it is what he falls back on in absolute emergencies when everything is doomed and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Before that, though, he fights.

Even as an angel, he was already questioning the system, he was ready to go and tell God she was doing a terrible job, that her ideas were bad, that he wants to keep his stars and the universe— six thousand years are nothing! If you actively oppose existing rules and defy people's authority over you, fighting is the only option you have unless you plan on giving up or the response becomes too much to deal with.

Fear itself happens when you or someone/something you love is being threatened (whether that threat is real or simply perceived as such doesn't matter), plus there are a large number of more irrational fears.

Crowley's creations were threatened -> He goes against the rules, he wants to fight for them.

On the walls of Eden, he questions God and talks to an angel, his hereditary enemy, once again defying the rules, questioning them.

Job and his children were threatened -> He goes against orders to try and save them.

There is good reason to believe he went against God by saving some of the children from the flood.

He showed Jesus the kingdoms of the world—do we really think that was based on orders? No, it was once again Crowley not playing by the rules.

Wessex? He proposes the Arrangement, which is one gigantic "fuck you" in his fight against celestial rules. Everything after that goes back to Crowley knowing that their jobs suck and that they can cheat, fight the system by working together. In 1827, it gets him pulled to hell and punished, and yet he does not stop; he keeps fighting.

Crowley is the one who immediately tries to stop the apocalypse. Aziraphale needs to be talked into it, needs to be convinced with selfish reasons and personal pleasure.

The reason why both heaven and hell absolutely loathe him is not because he is a runner; it's because he constantly and consistently defies them. He fights.

In season two, he immediately tries to deal with the Gabriel problem while Aziraphale is standing behind him and saying "I don't know" to all of his questions. Taking him somewhere so they can figure shit out in peace is not 'running'—it's smart. Sure, it's far from ideal, but we see what keeping him in the bookshop brought them, don't we? The hiding miracle is what tipped heaven and hell off in the first place.

Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh based on a hunch, but once again—did that help? Did his journalist roleplay trip actually provide vital information that solved a single puzzle piece of that mess? No. Finding out that Gabriel was at that pub with some mystery person was a nice fact to know, but that's it.

During the ball, Crowley is scared, vigilant, prowling around the shop, checking windows, telling Aziraphale to "stop this charade" so they can figure out what to do. Aziraphale, in that moment, was already convinced that sticking to the rules would save them—a heavenly embassy on a technicality, surely the group of fallen angels who got booted due to not following heaven's rules will respect that.

Crowley goes to heaven, which is once again him actively looking for a solution, while Aziraphale also falls back on fighting because fawning is not going to do shit.

There are three times during which Crowley suggests fleeing—which is his secondary fear response—but those are exceptions. Let's have a look at them.

The first one is at the bandstand, the evening before the Apocalypse, and since Aziraphale is lying to him, the situation seems hopeless to him. Yet he is still having his 'agents' look for him, is still fighting.

Do you know why he even suggests running? He is about to leave when Aziraphale calls him back with "there isn't anywhere to go," and now allow me to insert the following passage from the scriptbook.

Crowley looks back. He looks at Aziraphale. Above them, a beautiful starry sky. And Crowley softens.

"Big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we could go off together."

The sentence in the show is slightly different, but they have one thing in common: If.

IF the world ends, we can still leave and be together. IF.

Crowley is NOT saying "let's leave", he is presenting Aziraphale with a contingency plan in case stopping the Apocalypse does not work. He is NOT running, he isn't even SUGGESTING to run.

It's a "if the world ends, we can be together. We don't need to be with hell or heaven; we can be in the stars," because remember what the end of the world would mean? Eternal torture for Crowley while Aziraphale bores himself to death in heaven.

The next time he suggests it again—when he stops Aziraphale on the street—several things have happened.

First, he did not leave. If he truly wanted to flee, he would have by now, but he didn't. He sits in a cinema waiting for the end: "Out of time. Out of hope," as Neil puts it. Then Hastur and Ligur show up on screen and tell him, 'You're dead meat, Crowley. You're bloody history. […] We're coming to collect you'.

We all know that means "eternal torture in hell," but if you're not convinced for some reason, have another snippet from the script book that did not make it into the show.

Dagon is speaking from the Bentley's radio while he drives towards the bookshop, saying that something has gone wrong and they're sure he has a 'perfectly reasonable explanation' for it. Once he gets out of the car, however, Dagon still keeps going and says the following:.

"Your explanation, and the circumstances that will accompany it, will provide a source of entertainment for all the damned of hell, Crowley. Because no matter what agonies the damned are suffering, Crowley, you will have it worse."

Crowley already knows that. He has been punished by them before, heard, seen, lived torture, there is no doubt as to what will happen should they catch him. So he does what any person with a single fucking brain cell would do—he tries to get his loved one and FLEE.

Flight is the best response in this situation, and if you need me to explain why, then honestly, I cannot help you anymore. I won't go into detail about Aziraphale's response, but, tl;dr, it was shitty and incredibly hurtful, go figure.

Now, let's get to situation number 3, which is his speech during the final fifteen. We do not have an official script for that, but someone did make transcriptions for all episodes; you can find them here. Additionally, I will copy some of what I already said in a different meta post.

Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggests putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season, he is ready to get them away from the problem.

So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it’s important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.

Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.

Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley had slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from ‘something terrible’ without even asking if he’s alright with that.

Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest; he even calls it a 'heavenly embassy'.

After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated by several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don’t feel safe here anymore, let’s leave’.

He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they’re together and it’s safe.

Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It’s literally the worst option, he can’t go back, he won’t go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don’t want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.

There is a common error that people make regarding the timeline, which is assuming that during this conversation they are already aware of the impending apocalypse—but they aren't. Aziraphale himself has no clue, and while Crowley saw the conversation and trial, he does NOT know when it will happen. For all he knows, it could be tomorrow, could be in a thousand years, and, even if he had been given a date, I doubt they laid out all the details and how to stop it.

Considering that his original plan was "get drunk at the Ritz and then have us time," I don't think he knew literally anything about how or when to stop it. So no, Crowley does NOT suggest running away from earth and leaving it to die.

All he wants is some bloody peace and quiet where no demons, angels, or power-hungry floating heads can interrupt them. A space that is safe and theirs. There are also zero mentions of where he wants them to go; he is not talking about the stars or the universe. He wants to get away from where they currently are because heaven and hell show up uninvited whenever they please.

If your boss and ex-boss constantly kicked down your front door and stated their wish to torture you, would you stay there or would you move? Yeah.

This post got very long, but it was long overdue.

I am tired of seeing people call Crowley a callous coward who always runs away from his problems when he is the literal opposite. You take three sentences said under exceptional circumstances and apply them to Crowley as a whole, when it is nothing but his last ditch effort to keep himself and Aziraphale safe.

One last thing: If you come onto my post and start aggressively arguing about this, I will block you. Genuine discussions and questions are always welcome, being a dick is not, and I also simply cannot handle some of the rhetoric people in this fandom perpetuate because it's very triggering.

Make your own post, don't do it on mine.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #crowley deserves better treatment from this fandom #and people that actually remember canon and don't take some fanfic version of him they have created during the hiatus #so many straight up factually incorrect takes #i dont know if i will make it until season 3 guys

266 notes · View notes

wanderlust-in-my-soul · 7 months ago

Text

Currently Watching - April

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 30.04.2024

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

I am happy about gif-requests 🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

Tracking: #josistag

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in April with a MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. 25 Ju, Akasaka de 🇯🇵 (2/10)

They were fellow students and now they have to play in a BL together. One of them is two years older and popular. For the other one, this is his first big role and he needs it, so he is determined to to anything he needs to do, to be a good actor. Even when this means to find a partner and fall in love to be able to play the role perfectly. Why not try to be lovers with your co-star. All for the sake of the series of course.

2. Blue Boys 🇰🇷 (2/4)

This short series is quite good. I saw the first episode by chance and I was hooked, but lost it again, because I couldn't track it on MDL. Now it is up there. I hope these two can resolve their missunderstanding, with talking! But they are too hungry for each other...

3. Boys Be Brave! 🇰🇷 (2/8)

Enemies to lovers, but different. Jinwoo likes Kisub and Kisub knows this. But while Kisub gives his heart away to every person who hits on him and can't really say No to anyone, Jinwoo loves to build up his wall and hide behind a strong No. Their worlds collide, when Kisub moves in with Jinwoo, if he likes it or not. Great first episodes!

4. Cityboy_Log 🇰🇷 (12/?)

They are back and unhinged like before! Jihan and Jaejun met after a while because they were busy and it seems they had some catching up to do the night before. We get some daily vlogging, some cuteness and some jealousy, which wasn't that cute. But they are finally back and I am happy. The acting is still very good. There is no deeper story behind, just some idols, models and actors falling in love with each other and theit daily lifes.

5. Deep Night 🇹🇭 (3/8)

his is everything I was expecting, so it didn't disappoint, I guess. To be honest, I watch this for First. I guess he would have chemistry with a stick, soooo this is nice. And I hope the story, at least stays like this and won't get worse... Update: This show is a mess 😂 there is so much going on all at once and at the same time nothing really happens? It is so confusing, yet very entertaining. But Wela, my dear, it is totally okay to be pissed if one fucks with you, while you are so drunk you can't remember shit the next day... Just a thought.

6. Kare no Iru Seikatsu 🇯🇵 (3/8)

Kazuhito has no girlfriend and the ones he had, broke up with him, because they felt he likes someone else... Who might that be?... The story is simple, I guess? (But perhaps not that simple... The preview for ep 3 looks interesting.) Childhood friends are forced to move in together after spending time apart. One is a little bit naive and is trying to find out why girls breaking up with the most charming and handsome guy he knows and the latter is in love with the naive one and in the end they have their happy ending. I like it. I want to see their growth.

7. Love Is Like A Cat 🇰🇷 (10/12)

Who thought this was a good idea? Who wrote this? Who said cut at the end of scenes? Who thought this is be the way Mew should act? I cringe so hard and not in a funny way. This series is just bad. I keep watching because of this little bean. But I had to skip so many scenes in today's episodes, because it was just so bad! And I can't figure out if Mew just didn't want to be there and act or if that is the way the director wanted him to act... But the acting is bad. Bad choices everywhere. And the dialogues? Cringe... Why would a bean like Dae Byeol fall for Uno? Nope...

8. My Stand-In 🇹🇭 (1/12)

Okay, hear me out. I watch this for Poom and for Poom only. But the story lookes interesting, it was quite intriguing. I don't know why, but I cringed a bit too much at some scenes. But Poom is beautiful and that is all I care about. Yes, I can be this shallow!

9. Only Boo 🇹🇭 (4/12)

The cringe was so strong with this one this week! I had to pause multiple times, but at the same time I enjoyed it so much! Moo is so unhinged and I love him! But please! Don't let Moo's cousin become a possible love interest for Kang. I know we got this dream sequence this week, but there is something in the air between Shone and him... and I don't like it. The second couple... I felt really sad for them this week. Beeing in love with your best friend is never easy...

10. Unknown 🇹🇼 (12/12)

The story about found family, childhood trauma and struggling topped with a lovestory between "brothers". They aren't really brothers so I really don't care and just enjoy this forbidden and hurtful lovestory to the fullest. This is exactly what I hoped for! The longing, tension and hurting is so good! It is the aftermath of the shooting and Qian is still dealing with his emotions and his feelings for Yuan. The love between them is real and strong, but Qian is afraid and can't just let his heart decide over the head, yet. He loves Yuan, but is afraid what that means for them and especially for Yuan's future. And yet he held him back. He was the one reaching out in the end! I have said enough about them and this first part of ep 11 in my post. I love them. My heart belongs to them. I wish we had more developement between these two as a couple, but I still love them and I forgive this show the rush in the end, because I love it so much.

11. Word of Honor 🇨🇳 (20/36)

Those two flirt a lot and are a married couple. Everyone knows that. And I love and enjoy that! Overall this is such a fun watch and the different sects and intrigues are sometimes a little bit confusing, but interesting. I love this world of martial arts and I love how protective Wen Kexing is over Zhou Zishu.

Finished in April

Series

My Strawberry Film 🇯🇵

This is what I call a love triangle. And the fact that the screenwriters worked for Eien No Kinou or Jack o'Frost promised some heartbreak and teenage angst. And they delivered. I really like this series. And I felt so many emotions, especially for Ryo. And I really loved the ending. No fake relationship and no unrealistic confessions, just some teenagers in love and being friends. And I think Hiraku was such a sweet friend in this last episode. He apologized and he finally recognized Ryo's feelings for him. And I believe they stay friends in the future. It might be difficult, but a good friendship is worth fighting for. It has so much to do with respect and love for each other. It is a solid 8 out of 10 for me.

Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto 🇯🇵

The story about highschool sweethearts, who didn't have the chance to enjoy their young love, because of horrible family backgrounds. Their story is devastating and I am happy they found their way back to each other. The story was good, the acting was good, I am in love with Furuya Robin, which is nice, and the side characters were special (shoutout to Yuto!). I wish there was more "passion" from Miyata, but I guess it is due to his character. Overall it was a good watch and I enjoyed it! A good 8 out of 10 for me.

Jazz For Two 🇰🇷

I love bls about music and about traumatic pasts. The second couple has my heart. I just love them coming together. Usually I hate this bully-trope, but with them, I kinda enjoyed it. Perhaps because Jooha always looked like a hurting puppy. Overall the homophobia in this one is strong and I think it is interesting to see them deal with their own feelings. Internal and external homophobia is such a big thing in all their stories and I wish they had more time to show the developement from hating themselves to loving the other person and themselves. But in my opinion they made a good story and a good show. I like it very much. And what was that kiss in the end? Wow! A good 9 out of 10 for.

To Be Continued 🇹🇭

I really like this one! I read some comments that the reason they never got together was just stupid, but from their perspective I can understand why they reacted how they reacted. They were young and unsure what to do and what all of this meant for them and their friendship. What I liked about the show was the present and past scenes. We learned so much about their past and the scenes fitted perfectly. It was a really good series and I am glad I waited to binge it. Guess I come back to this one from time to time. Rewatch value is there. And those two have really good chemistry! A good 9 out of 10 for me.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped in April

We are 🇹🇭

I dropped this after the first half of the first episode. There are a few reasons for that. First, I need some shows to binge on lonely sundays. And second, I just don't feel like watching this one. It was so quirky for me. Not my kinf od humor right now.

Looking forward to in April

Love is like a cat - Trailer (Apr 1st)

We are - Trailer (Apr 3rd)

Memory in a letter - Trailer (Apr 6th)

Grey Shelter (Apr 11th)

Kare no Iru Seikatsu - Trailer (Apr 12th)

The Spirealm (Apr 15th)

Boys be brave! (Apr 25th)

25 Ji, Akasaka de (Apr 19th)

Kimi to Yukite Saku: Shinsengumi Seishunroku (Apr 25th)

My Stand-In - Trailer (Apr 26th)

Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024

Knock Knock, Boys - Trailer

156 notes · View notes