#i do not currently intend to take this further

[blazinginsquids]

The Antler Queen: An analysis

In Yellowjackets, there are 3 characters that don the Antler Queen mantle. Lottie Matthews, Natalie Scatorccio, and Shauna Shipman. Typically if you see a pattern of 3 in media, it’s important (3 has always been a very symbolic number). When I see 3 different things being applied to the same thing, I think of it as a triptych. 3 sides showcasing different aspects of the same story.

The antler Queen as a concept is the leader of the girls. The one that represents what, currently, is their primary driving force. My theory is that the three girls who become Antler Queen all represent one of three of these driving forces that encourage them to survive. To further this, I also think, on a larger real world scale, these 3 girls are intended to represent different types of people who led humanity.

Lottie represents spirituality, Natalie represents community, and Shauna represents ego. I also believe Shauna and Natalie are intended to be narrative foils, with Lottie acting as a parallel and foil to both simultaneously.

Lottie: Spirituality

Lottie is the most obvious. She represents spirituality, a belief that there is something at play beyond ourselves, and that it is our duty to act as a servant to these powers.

Religious leaders come in many forms. Prophets, saints, sometimes even certain rulers, etc. These types of leaders have mixed reviews, sometimes genuinely using their influence to encourage faith and spread peace, others using their influence to encourage others to commit violence in the name of their beliefs.

Lottie, like these leaders, also has moments of both good and bad. Encouraging Van to take a bone for protection, while also encouraging hunts of the other girls. Regardless, by prioritizing spirituality, she is giving the girls a reason to feel as if they should keep going beyond just mere survival. As the Antler Queen, she represents the girl’s spirituality encouraging them to believe in powers outside themselves.

Natalie: Community

I’m going to label what Natalie represents as “community”. More specifically, she represents the ideal ruler. The one that puts the community first, the one that brings people together, bringing her people to a golden age of prosperity. Under her “rule”, the Yellowjackets were able to build huts, and domesticate animals. While this could also be attributed to winter passing, I think you could argue that, had they continued to have Natalie as a leader, they’d be far more prepared for the next winter. Natalie expects the best out of her community, and therefore expects the best out of herself.

I choose to simplify this as community because, like these rulers, Natalie acts for the community. They are her main priority. By prioritizing the well being of the everyone else, she keeps them stable. As Antler Queen, she represents the girls need for community, encouraging them to look out for each other.

Shauna: Ego

Admittedly, I wasn’t sure what word to simplify what Shauna represents. I considered self, and individuality first, but ultimately settled on ego. Ego is the word for someone’s sense of self, self importance, and esteem.

Shauna represents the second type of ruler. Rather than the ideal ruler, she is the more common flawed ruler. The one that power corrupts, the one that’s ruled by their insecurity and greed. The immediate assumption is that she must represent dictators, or fascists. While I do think she does to an extent, I more so think she’s supposed to represent rulers who, by the end of their rule, become something the people didn’t want in power.

This is how Shauna views herself. She goes from being “a warrior” (Her words, not mine) to a housewife. She centered her own interest so much, that she betrayed the people around her. Every time she defended an evil act, starting with sleeping with Jeff, she constantly expected less and less good out of herself, leading her to darker and darker places.

Not necessarily in Shauna’s defense, she has also seen the worst of the others. Cannibalism, worshipping, mob mentality, these are things she has seen the other girls participate in. She thinks these girls are no better than her. She expects the worst out of her community, and therefore expects the worst out of herself.

Like the rulers she represents, Shauna acts out of ego. Her self esteem is her own priority. While having the capability to be ruthless acts in the favor of their survival, she is ultimately oppressing the other girls, for example, telling them they are going to stay in the wilderness whether they like it or not. While it may not seem as if she represents the other girls in this time, they are ultimately dividing, separating from the overall community.

Betray each other if it means getting home, no longer prioritizing the entire community, but only the ones they “identify” with. While the girls act as the antithesis of Shauna, a more nuanced approach, she represents this drive in its purest, most raw form. As Antler Queen, she represents the girls drive to do what they have to do for their own goals.

[foolsdiamond]

karkat and dave are doing line-reading of romeo and juliet. dave wants to use it as an opportunity to be gay, but karkat takes the plot too seriously

[catboybiologist]

half baked morning rant

I do want to make it clear that the reason I talk about HRT and its biological effects so much is not because HRT or medicalization defines your gender.

Its because, for me personally, the interface of my biology education and my transition was mostly centered around figuring out what sex hormones do. I learned about basic biology principles like DNA organization, gene regulation, cell biology, and physiology in high school and undergrad. Taking that understanding and extending it to the mechanisms that hormones use to change gene regulation, and by extension, the rest of your body broadly, was something I did as my understanding became more complete in later undergrad and grad school. It was the key to me starting my own transition.

Why?

Because it was the first time I realized that the "basic biology" arguments of transphobes were complete and utter bullshit. From that point, it was a cascade. As in, wait, if dynamic changes in gene expression aren't considered "biological" to them, then why am I believing anything they say about anything else? When they talk about gametes, and try to include infertile cis people in their definitions of biological sex by talking about what gamete you're "intended" to make, what do they even mean? Why does my current gene expression not define that "intent"? And wait, back up, why is the brain suddenly not considered part of our biology? Why are neurological differences suddenly not "biological"? Why can we say someone's thinking patterns aren't "biological"?

Backing up even further, why does any of this matter more than psychological gender, or sociological gender? If the way we navigate society is gendered, that affects a lot of our lives, and we're just throwing that away?

Basically, being educated about how deep the biological changes of HRT really go was the first domino to fall when I worked through my internalized transphobia.

This is one of many reasons why I hate, hate HATE the concession that uninformed allies and even many trans people themselves give: "well NO ONE is saying that you can change your biological sex, sex and gender are completely unrelated, sex is binary and gender isn't!!!!!"

Well. I am saying that you can change your "biological" sex, I am saying that biological sex isn't binary, and I am saying that misunderstanding of those points has set back transgender advocacy. It makes medical decisions surrounding us less informed, it poisons conversations about how we interact with society, and it makes trans people feel like their gender and sex are less "real" than cis people's.

Not to mention the horrific way it discards intersex people from the conversation entirely.

Recently, I've seen this point enter the mainstream a little, by using intersex people and variation of sex in other species as a "counterargument" to "binary biological sex" thinking. It still doesn't sit right with me. One, because it uses intersex people as a prop for trans advocacy while not actually addressing the needs of either group. And two, because it completely disregards that your current biology and physiology is not 100% predestined from birth, and using people who were "born this way" as a prop does absolutely nothing to increase people's acceptance of trans people who change their biology later in life.

Ugh. This got away from me but yeah. That's my sipping coffee ramble for this morning. If anyone wants to add comment or correct me on discourse here, please do. Especially if you're intersex- this is all the observations of a perisex trans woman.

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ toying around ~ s. gojo

sum: when a dare you gave your boyfriend ended up biting you in the backside - now you’re a mess and he’s loving it.

pairing: satoru gojo x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ - mndi. toy play, implied exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected p in v, implied c warming, gojo is a cocky mf, implied multiple rounds, reader gets called sweets/good girl, general swearing.

a/n: i’m back after being away for a bit - enjoy some toy play/kink with our favourite white-haired sorcerer. originally wrote with another character but it's time to shake it up. as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

word count: 1,304

links: jjk masterlist | masterlist

rubbing your legs together, you chewed on your bottom lip as you attempted to relieve some of the pressure you felt within your core as the knot in your gut tightened slowly with each passing second.

unfortunately, the more you pressed your legs together, the more the pressure and pleasure increased. why did you have to be a smart mouth and give a dare to your boyfriend? you were sure he wouldn't take you up on it, mainly due to him not wanting to draw attention to you both, but to your dismay, he did. glancing up, you took in the mass of snow-white hair before letting a small whimper pass your swollen lips.

placing your head down on the table, you let out another soft moan, only to be met with a chuckle as blue eyes took in your current state. "you know i’ll only turn it up if you keep acting like that, (y/n)". the obvious glee in his voice made you growl, mentally debating whether you should punch him for being so cocky.

after a few moments, a small gasp slipped past your lips as you lost your train of thought to your soon-to-be impending doom. "h-ah, fuck, t-toru, please, this isn't f-fair". you whined out a little more than you intended at the pleasure you felt building as you lifted your head, the smirk on his lips adding fuel to your fire despite wanting to now connect your hand with his head - in a slap of hate or a grip of lust, you didn’t know which at this point any more.

you were going to make him pay for this next time, even if it killed you.

"well, you shouldn't have dared me to do this, then you wouldn't be in this situation now would you, sweets?”. satoru leaned his head on his hand as he looked you over, a small smirk appearing at the blush spreading across your face before he clicked another button on the remote he held under the table. his smirk widened at your reaction as you lifted your head and let it fall back, sucking in a breath as you tried to steady the pounding in your chest.

a few seconds later, a moan louder than you intended passed your lips as you let your head drop back down, causing people passing you both to look, raising their brows in questioning. “oh my, you're such a naughty girl aren't you, (y/n)?". his eyes racked over your somewhat dishevelled state as you bit your lip in an attempt to stifle the moan you could feel clawing at your throat.

you’d be damned if you gave him the satisfaction again, but it was so hard not to give in. after a few more agonisingly slow moments, satoru decided you'd had enough torment for the day. lifting his hand, he motioned for you to sit beside him, your body moving slowly, you manoeuvred around the round booth seat until you sat directly beside him. “as much as i like to tease and torture you with our little toys for a little while longer, i think you've endured enough for now".

his words were soothing as he lowered his hand, fingers caressing your thigh, drawing patterns for a moment before slipping under your skirt and into your underwear. taking a moment to press your clit, you sucked in a breath as you felt skilled fingers rub circles. the same fingers that were toying with you moved further down your wet pussy, slipping past the small ring of resistance with ease before reaching deep inside, savouring the feeling of your slightly pulsating walls, pulling out the soaked love egg vibrator much to his amusement.

a small moan of relief and loss sounded from you as you shuffled a little more, the fire deep within you never ceasing as your walls tried to clench around something that wasn’t there anymore. "t-toru, it's still too m-much for me”.

your soft whimpers lulled him slightly as you closed your eyes, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to calm the raging urge to jump him. you had been so close to that beautiful high that would have you seeing stars but it was cruelly ripped away.

soft fingers brushed against your neck while moving some of your hair, your eyes opening as you tilted your head slightly looking over your boyfriend. you were distracted and he took that as the perfect opportunity to drag a moan of both surprise and pleasure from you, before muffling any further sounds that dared to come out. the oh-so-familiar feeling of being stretched by long fingers made your eyes roll slightly, fluttering shut as the feeling of your end began building again.

amid your distraction, satoru had managed to slip two long fingers into your slick cunt, stretching your walls to the shape of his fingers as he began moving at a slow and almost painful pace. sure it wasn't the pace you had hoped for from him but to feel a part of him inside you, instead of the toy, was fair play.

pulling back from you slightly, hot breath ghosting against your lips, satoru tilted your chin and smiled softly. "you know, maybe we should take advantage of being in this booth. after all, you handled my little toy extremely well, sweets and i think we both know you’d much rather have something else inside you. something that you can really grip onto and lose your mind over".

scanning your eyes over his, you pulled his lip between your teeth and wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair at the base of his neck, fingers scratching at his scalp slightly. now it was your turn to enjoy the quiet moans from deep in his throat before he played his hands on your hips, nails pressing into your skin. you didn’t know if you were trying to beg or demand with the way you were moving, but either way, he was right and you were impatient as fuck. hands guided your body to sit on his lap, facing away from him as you felt the welcome stretch of his cock pushing into your pussy, covering your mouth as you muffled the moan that slipped out.

“f-fuck, that’s it, my fucking sweet girl~”. tender kisses were peppered on your neck as you felt his hips begin to lift, pressing the head of his cock further into you, your insides moulding once again to the shape of him as you clenched around him, your body not wanting to let him slip out so easily this time around, unlike the egg vibrator from earlier that now rested in his pocket.

“~let’s see how many times i can make you come before our food arrives. if you’re quiet and good, i’ll make sure to rip those sweet sounds from your throat later on tonight when i have you pinned beneath me in bed”.

his words hit you as you let your head fall down, clenching around him once again as you moved your hips slowly, making sure to not draw too much attention to the fact you were being stretched open in pure bliss for anyone to see.

of course, you were a good girl for him, legs trembling as you came undone on his cock, your slick dripping over his lap and your thighs and you panted into your hand, eyes closing as you felt him pat your thigh.

and of course, he was true to his word, having you come undone once again, this time beneath him as he ripped sweet moan after sweet moan for your throat as he filled you up until he had nothing but blanks left to give you as he pulled you into every possible position he could.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[mommyslittlebird]

I found this in my drafts and I don't think I ever posted it, so here's some Professor Wanda thought for you all this evening:

“It’s 11:50, sweet girl. You need to go or you’ll miss class.”

You whined from your position under Wanda’s desk, reluctantly removing your lips from the silicone toy you were pleasuring. You knew better than to start pouting or whining about how desperately she wanted to stay in her office. Wanda was likely to put you out for that whether you went to class or not. 

You instead opted for a proposition. “If I promise to sit nice and pretty on your cock while I call you ‘mommy’ and ‘professor’, will you consider letting me stay?” You crawled up Wanda’s legs, carefully avoiding knocking your head on the desk. You straddled her thighs, resting on the woman’s knees so you could look her in the eyes. The toy still stood tall, peaking out the unbuttoned trousers Wanda had come to work in. 

Wanda’s face remained stoic and unmoved, but you noticed the unmistakable way her pupils grew in arousal. You decided to push your luck a little further, bending forward to rest her head on her shoulder. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Wanda moved her back so she could look in her eyes again. “Dr. Potts is going to be terribly upset with me if you keep missing her business class,” she said seriously. 

“It’s not Dr. Potts. Her class was full so I had to take it with Stark,” you said. 

“Oh.” Wanda’s voice had a hint of disgust. “In that case you may continue. I’ll write you an excused absence.”

You leaned forward again, moving to kiss the olive skin that peaked above Wanda’s collared blouse, but she caught your shoulder. She pointed back to the spot under her desk. “Down.”

“Yes, mommy” you responded, gracefully slipping back on to her knees under the desk. You kissed the tip of the toy before sliding it into your mouth once again. Wanda paid you little mind, leaning back over her desk to continue writing her emails. 

A few moments later, Wanda thrust her hips forward unexpectedly, sending you backward, gagging from the sudden motion. You jerked back so hard you hit your head on the desk. 

“Oh?” Wanda looked down at you with a teasing smirk. “Still don’t know how to take a proper woman’s cock, do we?” Wanda was clearly toying with you. The sudden jerk had done exactly what she’d intended it to do. 

You crawled toward her on your knees, resting your head against the inside of the woman’s thigh. You knew Wanda’s games well and you were all too willing to play along. You looked up at Wanda, feigning your best expression of innocence. “I suppose you’ll have to teach me, professor.”

“It appears I have little choice,” she teased, guiding you back into position. “Just open your mouth nice and wide for me and I’ll hold your hair.” She buried her hand in your hair, pulling you back to her cock. She started to bob your head, forcing you to take a little more length with each movement. “There you go, sweet girl, breathe through your nose. You’re doing wonderfully. Keep going just like that. I’m going to start moving my hips now, okay?”

You nodded enthusiastically. With that, Wanda started to thrust. She kept her hand in your hair, holding you firmly in place. Spit covered the shaft of the toy as your mouth fell open further. You gagged and sputtered as the tip of the toy passed through the back of your throat. Wanda pressed your head firmly against her groin, nose buried in the small patch of hair that was visible over the strap. “That’s it, little love. Oh, you’re doing so well.” 

You could tell by the lack of a faint glow that the strap was not currently enchanted, though you knew from prior experience that it could be. Still, you wondered if you could make Wanda cum from this alone. The woman above you appeared to be in ecstasy, and by the staggered way her hips were starting to move, she appeared to be nearing the edge. Perhaps between watching you take her down to hilt, eyes still gleaming sweetly into hers, and the sounds of your gagging, she truly had gotten that aroused. 

She let go of your hair, nearly as breathless as you were. You continued lazily bobbing your head along the tip of the toy. Wanda reached down to caress your bulging cheek, prodding the bulge of the toy with her thumb. “You are perfect, darling. I’m so proud of you.”

You blushed, finally pulling away to hide your face in Wanda’s thigh. She ran her fingers soothingly through your hair. She rolled her chair back slightly, tapping her lap in silent permission for you to sit on it. You obeyed, straddling her lap again. You tucked your legs in the space between the seat of the chair and the backrest, pressing your entire body against Wanda’s torso. You wrapped yourself around her like a koala bear, resting your head against her shoulder. You whined, grinding up against the toy that still stood between Wanda’s legs. “Please?” You pulled back to look her in the face. 

“Aww,” Wanda cooed and pouted inauthentically. Her hands gently rubbed circles at the small of your back. She rubbed your thigh with her other hand, slowly easing up your shirt. “I’ve just got a little bit more work to do and then I’m all yours. Do you think you can be a good girl and keep my cock nice and warm for me while I finish up?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yes mommy.” You had made a promise, after all. Your legs trembled as you pushed your panties to the side, slowly lowering yourself onto the toy. “Mommy…” you breathed. While taking the toy all the way wasn’t any sort of extreme feat, the decent size was going to prove to be rather difficult to handle for any more than 5 minutes. 

Wanda adjusted your position into one that kept your feet off the ground, leaving you helpless to do anything but keep your full body weight on her lap. When you whimpered she gently shushed you, stroking the back of your hair. “Shh. That’s a good girl. Now keep still while I finish up my work.” She guided your head so it was buried in her neck. “And no peeking. This isn’t stuff little girls should be looking at.”

Wanda kept her eyes and hands on her computer, focused on the work at hand. To your credit, you were impressively still for the first 10 minutes. But as the ache inside of you grew, you grew more restless, groaning and shifting around in Wanda’s lap. “Mommy?” You finally whined. 

“Yes, darling?” Wanda responded nonchalantly. 

“It hurts…” you complained, unsuccessfully shifting around to try and relieve the pressure in her stomach. 

“I’m almost done, my little love,” she said, pulling you out of her neck to face her. “Do you think you could hold it for just a little longer? I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You bit her lip. You couldn’t help the determination that flared up inside of you at the promise. If Wanda said it’d be a good time, you believed her. And you’d been so desperate for the woman all day. You nodded hesitantly, burying your face back into her neck. 

By the time you heard the laptop closed, you were already quietly crying into the woman’s neck. Wanda had noticed you’d started crying 5 minutes ago when she felt a wetness grow across the collar of her shirt, but she paid it no mind. You would tell if you needed to stop, but until you did, she had no intention of stopping. 

When your teary eyes met her own, she cooed with false surprise. “Aww baby, where does it hurt?” Your bottom lip quivered as you pointed to your lower stomach. Wanda sadistically pressed down on your belly, causing you to shudder and gasp. “You’ve done so good warming my cock up for me. Surely you deserve a reward?” You nodded. Wanda leaned forward and whispered into your ear. “Winner’s pick.”

You gulped, pupils blown so wide there was nearly no color left. Wanda helped you up off the strap and up onto the now empty desk. “Anything I want?” You asked.

Wanda nodded before adding. “Within reason, of course.” 

You thought for a moment before landing on what you wanted. You didn’t typically like to be the one making the decisions, that’s why you and Wanda worked so well together. But when it was framed as a reward for your good behavior, you were shameless in requesting “I want your tongue first, but then I want to be over the desk. Make me yours. Please.”

Before you even finished the last word, one of your legs was already over Wanda’s shoulder, skirt hiked up to avoid it getting in the way. She wasted no time devouring your aching clit, causing your eyes to roll back as your hands searched for something to brace herself on. You settled for one hand on the back of the desk while the other found Wanda’s brown hair. Months of office fucking had made you a master of being quiet, but you so wished to scream Wanda’s name so loud every student and staff member in the building would know what was happening. You settled instead for whispered “mommy”s and “Wanda”s and the occasional “professor”. Your heels dug into the nice tailor blazer your professor had worn to work that morning. You came in record time, with less than 5 minutes before Wanda’s talented tongue was moving to clean you up. Before pulling away, Wanda left an array of deep bites on your inner thighs, the instructions “make me yours” not going ignored. 

Wanda wiped her mouth on a handkerchief from her chest pocket. She looked down at the white cloth, making sure she wasn’t smearing her lipstick across her face. She turned her head upward, coming face to face with desperate eyes that still sat on the desk above her. “Please…” you whispered, still aching for more. There was a moment of stillness and silence as the handkerchief fell from her thin fingers. You were pinned face down against the desk before the white cloth even hit the floor.

Professor Wanda Collection

[seonghwaddict]

23:46 — song mingi

in which your best friend is a little hard to wake up.

roommate!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. friends to lovers. fluff. timestamp. warnings. lots of kisses. wc. 1k. rating. pg-13.

lilo's notes. hiii here's a cute little mingi fic because i love him so much :3

listening to. you're mine, you!, chet baker

masterlist.

a quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you walk into the living room, finding your roommate fast asleep on the couch. mingi snored softly, sprawled out with his black playstation controler dangling from his hand for dear life.

you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.

he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.

“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”

after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.

you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.

“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.

his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”

“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”

your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.

still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.

“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”

“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”

it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.

he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.

“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”

“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”

a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[teapartyprincess4two]

Affectionate- M. Sturniolo

pairing: TouchStarved!Reader x Affectionate!Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request, thank you @sugrhigh for helping me figure this out luv u shnookums

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, slight cursing

summary: head cannons of Matt being affectionate with his touch starved girlfriend!

—

☆SFW

Affection and PDA isn’t something that comes naturally to you. When you and Matt first started dating, you would keep your distance, but eventually you grew used to it.

☆ When you and Matt first started dating you struggled with any and every form of physical intimacy.

☆ You’re mindlessly flicking through clothes racks at the mall. “Opinions?” Matt asks, holding a shirt in front of your face and slinging an arm over your shoulder.

☆ Subconsciously, you shrug his arm off your shoulder. “That’s cute! I like that,” you reply, scooting further away from Matt.

☆ “Okay, weirdo,” he laughs, but deep down it hurt every time you shied away from him. He tried not to look too into it, but it seemed like you were always avoiding his touch.

☆ “I’ll be back, babe. I’m gonna take Chris to the store,” Matt informs you as he throws his wallet and phone into his pocket.

☆ “Okay, have fun,” you reply simply. Matt stands in front of you fully expecting a quick kiss or even a hug, but you return to your previous activity.

☆ He leaves feeling sad, but still doesn’t bring it up.

☆ It goes on like this for a while, and Matt tries his best to see past it.

☆ You’re currently at an influencer event. The venue is crowded, loud, and overstimulating, forcing you to remain at Matt’s side for the entire night.

☆ He introduces you to a few of his friends, “Hey guys, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” His arms wrap around your waist, immediately causing your body to stiffen.

☆ “Hi,” you say meekly. Matt pulls you in closer, resting his head on your shoulder and peppering your face with kisses.

☆ When you keep leaning away from him, he stops and lets go of you completely. It bothers him enough for him to bring it up once you’re home.

☆ “Y/n, can we talk?” he asks, leaning on the restroom doorframe as you wash your face. You hum in response.

☆ Matt takes a deep breath, preparing to ask the question he’s been dreading the answer to. “Are you embarrassed of me?“

☆ It catches you off guard, “What? No! Why would you even ask that?”

☆ He rolls his eyes, “Because you never let me hug or kiss you.” No response from you, you don’t even know what to say.

☆ The conversation starts innocently but quickly becomes an argument. Matt keeps pushing the subject no matter how hard you try to avoid it, asking you questions you don’t know how to answer.

☆ “it’s not my fault you’re clingy!” you exclaim, throwing exasperated hands in the air. Matt nods his head slowly as his lips form a tight lipped smile.

☆ He doesn’t say anything else, instead leaving to your shared bedroom before he says something he’ll regret.

☆ You immediately wish you could take the words back. “Matt?” your voice is quiet as you enter the room, slowly crawling over to his figure on the bed.

☆ His back is to you. You snake an arm around his waist and apologize for everything you said.

☆ “Do you actually think I’m clingy?” he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I struggle with the whole PDA thing, but I’m gonna try and work through it okay?”

☆ From that moment forward, you’re much more conscious of your actions.

☆ Matt will hug you, kiss you, or hold your hand in public and you no longer pull away.

☆ Instead you’re pulling him in for a longer kiss than he intended. And eventually you’re the one who initiates the PDA.

☆ You and Matt are sat on a picnic blanket, watching as the sun begins to set. “My back hurts,” he mumbles, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.

☆ You mindlessly scoot closer to him, pulling his body in until it’s resting against your chest.

☆ He gives you a surprised look, “Literally who are you and WHAT did you do to my girlfriend?”

☆ “Shush,” you chuckle, placing soft kisses all over his face.

☆ Other times, you’ll just seek his touch when you’re alone.

☆ “What’s taking so long?” you ask. Matt’s been stirring the pasta for what seems like forever.

☆ “It’s almost done, you goof,” he laughs. You groan, resting your head on his back and wrapping your arms around his waist.

☆ “You smell good,” you murmur, earning a dopey smile from him.

☆ NSFW

The lack of affection can be attributed to a lot of things, and Matt knows that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes, he can only think of one way to teach you a lesson.

☆ “What the fuck was that?” Matt grits, referring to the scene you caused in front of his friends. All he wanted to do was kiss you, but you dodged the kiss so aggressively that it was embarrassing.

☆ “Here we go again,” you say. “I’m not doing this right now, Matt,” you turn on your heels, ready to escape the conversation.

☆ “You are doing this right now actually.” He grabs you by your elbow, pulling you into him abruptly.

☆ “You think it’s cute to embarrass me in front of my friends like that?” his voice is low, his breath fanning against your neck with each word. You’re slightly intimidated, but mostly aroused.

☆ He holds a firm grip on your neck, bringing you in for a hungry kiss.

☆ Before you know it, he’s fucking you in front of the bathroom mirror. “Look at how fucked out I have you,” he growls, “remember this next time you wanna act stupid.”

☆ Other times, he’s just so extremely touch starved.

☆ Matt trails kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, kisses that you’re trying to avoid.

☆ “I’m busy, Matt,” you whisper, but with each kiss your breath becomes choppier.

☆ “But I need you,” he whines, pressing his erection into your lower back.

☆ “Later,” you try and reason, but he’s not listening.

☆ That’s what leads to you riding him on the couch until he’s so overstimulated his eyes tear up.

☆ “I can’t—,” he whimpers. “You can,” your voice is firm. “You begged for this, baby. Don’t you remember?”

☆ He clenches his eyes shut, fists bawled at his side. His teeth bite so deep into his lip that he draws blood, orgasming for the 5th time.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: you stumped me with this rec anon lolol had to pull out the reinforcements ( @sugrhigh )

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @stingerayyy2 @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Tease

Steve Harrington x Reader

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: SMUT AHEAD! No use of Y/N. Pet names used. Reader has a vagina. Teasing. Oral (male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 1.6K

His body is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving with every breath, sprawled out across the bed, boxers still on, hands cuffed above his head and securely attached to the headboard.

You chance a glance up to see his eyes screwed shut, face twisted in pleasure, pressed into his arm, teeth grazing his bicep to keep another whimper at bay while you're practically torturing him. You pause your current ministrations to truly look at him, cheeks and ears tinged pink along with his soft pouty lips, tousled brown locks sticking to his forehead.

You smirk at the mess you’ve made of him, blooms of maroon and dark purples along his neck and collar bones. There are faint teeth marks at the juncture of his throat where it meets his shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat mats down the hair across his chest, while his skin is glistening in the low light.

Beautiful. Your sweet, angelic boyfriend that lets you corrupt him like this.

He takes a shuddering breath, picking his head up, letting his gaze fall down to you when he realizes you’ve stopped. His honey hued irises a mere ring surrounding the inky black pupils blown wide with lust but the look on his face is soft, filled with a pure adoration.

His brow furrows slightly, lips parting, about to say something but you speak up.

“So pretty, Stevie.” You smile, lazy and saccharine. “Such a good boy for me.”

You watch the heat go to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, turning the pink to a slight shade of red at the praise as he lets out a small moan, closing his eyes as his head falls back against the pillow. For someone like Steve, who never seemed to get embarrassed you could easily fluster him with just a few simple words. Only you got to see him like this, the vulnerable side that let you take the lead and let him forget about the rest of the world.

You lean back down and mouth hot against cock, only the thin fabric separating you, already soaked through with your saliva and his precum as he almost growls, a deep rumble emanating from the back of his throat as his hips thrust up, searching for more. He's already so hard it’s starting to ache. You’ve been going at it for the last half hour and know he’s close to begging for relief at this point.

“Goddamnit baby.” He hisses through gritted teeth, bucking up again when your teeth lightly nip at him.

You hum, lips working over him still, before pulling back once more. “Do you think you've been good enough to cum for me Stevie?”

“God yes, please. Yes.” He whimpers out as your fingertips hook into his waistband, eyes meeting yours with a frenzied plea.

“Please… what baby?” You ask, voice dripping with sugar, taking the opportunity to tease him a little further.

“Please… let me cum…” He breathes out ragged and on edge, futilely pulling at the cuffs while you slowly pull his underwear down his legs as his cock is finally set free of its confinement. You hear the faintest moan as he melts back into the mattress.

The boxers are thrown somewhere across the room to join the rest of his clothing, but your eyes never leave him. His thick cock is resting toward his stomach, the tip an angry shade of red and leaking, making a mess of his happy trail. Leaning over, you plant a kiss to his hip as it kicks up, a thin thread of sticky spend right below his navel connecting back to his head.

“Honey… I… I can’t take all the teasing tonight. Please!” He begs and something in his voice lets you know he was telling the truth. He was too wound up.

“Shhh baby.” You coo. “Just relax. I've got you.”

Flattening your tongue, you carve a path up his hip bone, then across his stomach. His muscles tighten beneath you as he groans and writhes, still not reaching its intended target just yet, drawing it out a little more just to hear his breathy pleading.

“F—fuuuuuck honey…” He moans, as you grin, tongue flicking across his slippery tip.

“Mmmm… taste so good, Stevie.”

“Goddamn… yes.” He hisses, voice strained, as you wrap your hand around him, thumb swirling at his sensitive head catching and smearing his spend, spitting on his length to give you more to work with.

Schlick sounds fill the room along with his moans as your hand continues to work him up and down, up and down at a mere leisurely pace, giving him just enough to keep him satisfied but not enough to give him the relief he so desperately craves.

He whines as you pull your hand away and just for a moment, he thinks you're going to prolong his torture.

“Mouth or pussy?” You ask, another moan falling from his lips before he answers, voice hoarse and ragged, filled with need.

“P—pussy. Pussy! God, I need t’feel you.”

It was a silly question, really. You knew the answer before uttering it. He would rather cum in you, than waste it on a blowjob.

You start to clamber back up his body and situate yourself on his lap, trapping his cock between his stomach and your soaked folds.

It takes all of his will power not to drive his hips up into yours, letting you have control, as you line him up to your entrance. He watches you slowly sink down onto his throbbing cock. It was always a stretch, but you took him so well.

His eyes dart between your face and where the two of you were connected, as your own head falls back, hands splayed across his chest as you continued the slow, torturous task of taking him in, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge on the descent.

His face holds a mixture of both pain and pleasure, parted lips releasing a chorus of moans and whines as you spear yourself on his length.

“Mmmm… so big!” You cry out, eyes rolling back as his tip nudges your cervix letting you know you couldn't possibly take anymore, pausing briefly to catch your breath and ready yourself.

“That's it baby, takin’ me so fuckin' good.” He praises with a lopsided grin, making your pussy flutter around him with need, eliciting a hiss from him. “Fuck, m’not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

“S'okay baby.” You breathe out as your hips start to move. “All about you tonight.”

He starts to protest, but he can already feel himself on the edge of a losing battle, nodding and closing his eyes.

You lean back, placing your hands behind you gripping his knees for leverage as you start to bounce. He can't help himself from thrusting in time to meet you, as you both set a steady rhythm.

He's hanging on by a thread, each time he disappears inside you, his lower stomach clenches a little more, his balls tightening up with his impending release.

“F—fuck honey, jus— just like that.” He rushes out, eyes fixed on your naked form, as his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.

“Cum for me baby!” You cry out, and that's all it takes to push him over.

He thrusts once, twice, three times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside you, giving you every last drop that he has with a deep grunt. He stills his hips to let you ride him through it, his chest heaving from the exertion.

“Baby… baby…” He whimpers, still twitching inside you, your greedy pussy wanting more, slowing your hips to a lazy roll as you drape yourself back over him.

“Mmmm. Bet that felt so good.” Your lips find his neck, trailing up his jaw. He's practically boneless beneath you, still trying to catch his breath as your hips grind to a halt.

He hums in response, thoroughly spent, a shiver running through him. His eyes flutter open to see you staring back at him with hearts in your eyes before leaning over him to retrieve the key from the nightstand to unlock him.

The cuffs slip away with a small audible click, his arms falling to either side of his head as you begin to ease up from his lap, tossing the cuffs back into the drawer but he stops you by throwing his arms around your waist holding you firmly to him.

“Mmph, no. No.” He murmurs, pulling you chest to chest, feeling his cock stir once more. “Don't go.”

In one fluid motion, he grips your hip and maneuvers you onto your back, head hitting the pillow before you had time to process what was happening.

“Oh.” You giggle. “Not done yet?”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, hips pushing lazily back into yours when he becomes rigid once again, his cum leaking out from around his thick cock.

Whatever words you had die on your tongue, as all thoughts are pushed from your mind with each slow and steady roll of his hips.

He kisses up your neck, just under your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“It’s your turn, pretty girl. Gonna fill this pussy over and over again.” He kisses your cheek sweetly as if he didn't just let those filthy words escape, before his next thrust takes your breath away. “Hang on angel, we’ve got all night.”

[machinemonstrosity]

DO YOO TAKE ANNONS????v CAN I BE 🪼 ANON? I LOVE YOUR EEITING SONNUCH IN FREAMING IUT OH MY GOD

ahem

Ahem ahem

can I request pre sacrifice azure x reader fluff :3 in so greedy I requested another writer too.....scenario is up to you but if you need one, uhhh azure taking care of sick reader :3333

AS THE SPAWN INTENDED | azure x sick!reader

WARNINGS - NONE , fluff , established relationship , pre-stabbing azure , he/they used interchangeably for azure , reader is also a cultist

a/n - an anon after my own heart with a sea creature emoji........hoping i wrote azure correctly and that tumblr doesn't fail uploading this again :]

The Spawn didn't intend for this. Surely a nasty curse must have befallen you. A targeted attack whispered by blind fools trying to shun the divine truth.

There was an indescribable drowsiness radiating through your bones, your trembling body puppeteered into a sluggish stumble of a walk. Your nose became a leaky faucet, sniffling and sneezing every few shallow breaths. Feverish heat clung to you like a parasite, adding an invisible weight to your slumped shoulders.

While you had half a mind to hunt down and punish the unknown trickster you were convinced was to blame, you doubted you'd walk further than the sanctuary grounds without keeling over. Let alone give chase.

Cursed on the day of a sacrifice ritual. How fun.

Fighting to haul yourself out of bed, you haphazardly throw your robe over your head. Everyone in the sleeping quarters was already gone, the nearby clinking of pots and pans alerting you of breakfast. You hadn't gotten up too late, it seems.

Now all you needed to do was to hobble your way around and not cause too much suspicion.

The plan sounded easy enough; eat, attend to your morning duties, and slink back to bed when nobody was watching. Perhaps pray to The Spawn that you'd be well enough to take part in tonight's ceremony as well.

Not your best work in terms of a strategy conjured up on the spot, but time was ticking.

Shakily inhaling, you straighten your spine, stitching together your healthy facade. Ignoring how your head felt like it was being split in half, you trudged to the kitchen.

There are only so many times you're able to awkwardly clear your throat to stifle a cough during the morning sermon until it gets weird.

This was going to be very difficult, apparently.

Attempting to ignore the multiple heads shifting to your direction, you swore you bolted out of the room the moment the crowd was dismissed. Accidentally bumping into a handful of people on the way out, you hastily mumble a slew of broken apologies in the midst of tripping over your own feet.

You forgot to account for how pale your face was upon promptly flushing in humiliation.

The curse of sickness wasn’t uncommon in the family. You just weren't willing to make a potential laughing stock of yourself due to your absence during an esteemed event. Or worse — having your belief and devotion questioned.

Regardless, you had to keep pretending to be useful, no matter how unconvincing it looked.

Lost in thought as you limped away from the shared lodge, you failed to notice the gentle sway of flora brushing against your robe.

And the entire person you collided with.

“Aah — !”

A firm hand grasps your arm, saving you from your inattentive fall.

“Blessed day! Can I help you?”

Snapped out of your daze, you peek at the hatted figure currently holding you upright.

He smiles warmly, the itchy material of their fingerless gloves aggravating your skin. Their other arm hooks a wicker basket full of freshly picked flowers and an assortment of fruits, the tips of their fingers dirtied with soil and the occasional strand of grass.

If not for recognizing their voice, you'd have already excused yourself and fled.

“By The Spawn, what dreadful curse is this!? You look deathly!”

Azure.

Now your face was flushing for a completely different reason.

Averting your eyes, your own hands balled into nervous fists. You knew he saw right through you, yet you still found yourself mentally shaming the odds of your encounter. Azure was the last individual you needed hearing of your liability, and you waltzed right to him like an idiot.

Noticing the way you tensed, Azure's hold softens. They always caught onto your predicaments a little too quickly for your comfort.

“You're hiding your illness, aren't you?”

There goes your entire plan.

“... Maybe.”

You simply shrug, trying your hardest to act nonchalant about your aching body. A sneeze interrupts you.

Azure sighs.

“We must get you to bed. Right now.”

He began to walk before you could protest.

Of course, you put in your best effort to resist, even if it was futile.

Going so far as to tug and struggle in their hold, your feet slide along the floor as he starts dragging you back to the lodge. Their mannerisms remained gentle despite your struggling, soon finding yourself returning to the shared bedrooms among Azure's guidance.

Zigzagging across the sea of thin floor mattresses, you're expertly parked in front of a particularly decorated bed. An arrangement of exotic flowers are neatly aligned at the head of the bed, each pot carefully painted with love and care. The colorful sheets and comforters stick out like a sore thumb in comparison to the surrounding cluster of beige and gray.

Finally given a moment to speak, a confused grimace pricks at the corner of your lips.

“Your bed?”

“Of course my bed,” Azure laughs, “you must rest somewhere untainted by your sickness.”

“And you don't care if it passes to you?”

“What matters is you being cured first.”

“Bu —”

“Hush.”

Feeling their hand slide to the small of your back, you're ushered to lie down. You're draped in the warmth of the blanket as you're tucked in, a fleeting wave of cool air momentarily blessing your sweaty form.

The sudden heat afterward makes you groan, kicking one of your legs free in retaliation.

“You'll never get better if you don't keep yourself warm, my dear.” Azure comments, lifting the blanket back over your limb.

“Now, I'm going to get you some soup and crackers. And, please — do remain still. I'd rather not be running after my ill sweetheart.”

They kissed your forehead, turning away to fetch your remedies.

You swiftly discovered being bedridden sucked.

Your only solace would be lover, who went as far as spoon feeding you after you became too weak to hold your bowl. When you eventually pushed the dish away, they nodded understandably, sliding the dinnerware aside.

Opening their mouth to speak, you cut him off.

“Azure?”

“Hm?” He hums.

“May… may you lie with me?”

His giggle gave you their answer.

Scooting over, Azure curls up around you, legs tangled with yours and arms wrapped securely around your sides. They discard their hat, briefly running a hand through his tousled black hair. He grins seeing the adoration that filled your droopy, fatigued eyes.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” they breathe, “I could never get tired of looking at them.”

Pulling you close, their face lands in your neck. Your pulse beats steadily against his upturned lips; a cherished sound he only wished they heard every night.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he runs a line of soft kisses up your throat with a reverent sigh.

“Go to sleep, my love. May your curse be lifted by tomorrow.”

You don't respond, already fast asleep.

To Hell with the ceremony. Maybe The Spawn intended for this after all.

[hiraethwa]

kageyama tobio isn’t normally so possessive. impatient. 

but tonight especially he feels his control fray rapidly, like a spark of fire consuming everything in its path, blazing through his sanity. 

he nurses a drink by the corner of the room, gaze pinned on you and the man you are talking to in hopes of securing his investment for your project. “be nice,” you had told him, bringing him as your date to this fancy gala event for your work. of course he is immensely proud of you, who had climbed the ranks rapidly to become one of the youngest associate directors in the history of your company. 

though unfortunately, that also means dealing with men who are used to getting their way and fending off their shameless advances despite the gold band that sits securely around your ring finger.

if the man who is currently flirting with you unsuccessfully is the fire to his senses, then you are the flint that sets off the sparks that quickly razes it to the ground. he really shouldn’t have let you leave the house like that—bejeweled heels gracing your feet, further emphasizing your commanding stature that draped in satin fabric. fuck.

tobio slides his gaze over to the man, only to find him already looking at him with a smile. oh, i see how it is. 

he feels his eye twitch at the audacity of men as he makes his way over to you, his instinct to mark his territory taking over any shred of reasoning that was left. 

“hey,” tobio greets you, hand moving to rest on the curve of your hips without thinking. 

you nail him with a look that he loosely translates to ‘don’t forget what i told you’. he sighs internally before turning to the man you were talking to, offering his hand in introduction. “kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.”

a strange sensation floods his mind temporarily, before tobio identifies it as envy. not envy over him flirting with you—he has learnt how to ignore men’s attempts of advances on you, like you had learnt how to brush them off and turn the conversation in another direction. 

tobio blinks at the man, realizing just how pretty he is.

“excuse us for a moment.” you smile sweetly at the man before pulling him away from the event hall. 

you take a few turns into an alcove hidden from prying eyes, that sharp gaze of yours making his blood boil just a few degrees higher. 

so commanding and alluring, and you’re his.

he pays your surprise no mind, backing you up against the upholstered wall and dropping his head in the crook of your head, breathing your addicting scent in. 

“tobio, w–” your breath hitches, confidence stuttering for a quick second as you feel his lips on your neck, trailing kisses down the length of it before returning to the base, latching on the spot he knows so well and sucking. “what are you d–doing?”

“marking my territory, what do you think?” he retorts, hand roaming up from his strong grip on your waists. traveling up, up, fingers ghosting over the underside of your breasts before continuing on their journey. 

you wait, breath abated, as his hand—fuck, those hands that make you lose your mind from how well they know your body, your weak spots—just grazes over your nipples, separated by the satin fabric that you chose, knowing full well it would drive your husband insane, your own choices now coming back to bite you in the ass.

a whimper leaves your lips, lips that he intends to leave swollen by the time you step back into the hall, at the lack of attention, when he would normally torture you with pleasure, rolling the pink buds between his skillful fingers. 

his hand comes to a rest cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip, and your lips fall open instinctively. you gasp at the possessiveness in his eyes, as he experimentally gives the hair gathered into an updo at the back of your head a light tug, testing the waters. 

tobio’s own heart betrays him, accelerating at the sight of you being so pliant before him. he thinks he surprises even himself, when his own lips part involuntarily, the word falling from them, “suck.” 

he slips two fingers into your mouth, rationale really leaving him this time, as you obey him without hesitation, your soft tongue lapping at the pads of his fingers before applying pressure to do as you are told. 

“f–fuck. look at you, being so obedient.”

tobio bunches the smooth satin fabric around your waist with his free hand, “hold it up for me, like the good girl you are, hm?” you nod, unable to speak with your mouth occupied by his fingers, obliging his request with shaky hands.

he withdraws his fingers from you with a soft pop!, digits trailing south towards where you need him the most. he nudges your squeezed thighs apart with his knee, you trying to resist ever so slightly before giving in to his desires with a heated look from him. 

his thumb pulls the fabric of your panties out of his way, fingers immediately feeling the wetness that has pooled there. he teases your folds lightly, ghosting over your clit, leaving you breathless and begging for more with your doe eyes. 

“what is it?” tobio leans in towards you, his lips so close and almost on yours. you whine, chasing his lips but he is quicker, moving away before you can catch him. 

“t–tobio, please.” he nods in encouragement, fingers slipping through your hair again, tugging you open for him to slot his lips over yours, enveloping those sinful lips in a needy kiss. 

he smiles into the kiss, as he feels more than hears the vibrations of your moan resounding through him when he plunges two fingers into you at the same time. 

gods, tobio doesn’t think he would ever feel like he got enough of this, of you falling apart before him, heavy and messy kisses exchanged between you, as he desperately tries to get more of you, lips tender and swollen as he presses on, showing his heavy need for you through his kisses, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. he never does.

his fingers move on their own accord, pressing lightly against your spot before withdrawing fully, and returning to your warmth which envelops him fully, flooding his senses. 

tobio gathers your moans into his mouth, dampening the sounds that overflow into the dark hallway just in case of any passersby, frowning slightly at the thought of strangers hearing the muted whimpers that are only for his ears. 

he pours that possessiveness into his ministrations, fingers rubbing relentlessly against your sweet spot, as you break away from his lips for air. your mouth falls open into a silent broken moan, eyes rolling backwards, seeing heavens itself, as you come apart on his fingers. 

this. tobio admires the sight of you falling apart for him. this is for his eyes only. 

you whine at the loss of his fingers sheathed deep in you as he leaves you empty, unfilled, adjusting your panties back in place.

“later, that is, if you are being good,” tobio reminds you as he licks his fingers clean, his pocketsquare being put to use as he wipes off the slick on your thighs gently before moving on to his own hands. he stuffs the ruined fabric into the pocket of his pants.

you blush, head falling against his chest to hide your embarrassment, tender silence wrapping around you as both of you attempt to gather your wits. 

“ready?” tobio noses the curve of your ear once your breathing pattern returns to normal. you take his extended hand, letting him pull you along back to duty, checking your hair in the reflection of a mirror as you pass by. 

your mind wanders to the man that prompted your husband’s sudden possessiveness just as you arrive at the doors. “you know, the man i was talking to? i was actually fending him off from you.”

tags. @daisy-room @bakery-anon @hatsukeii tobio nation. @hiraethwa @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone a/n. ohhhh i had so much fun with this, lightly edited <3 (yes i did lose my last shred of sanity)

[cumplanecrash]

Just over 500 words of the deaged!SQQ concept that stole my soul yesterday while i was trying to work. Not quite feeling the vocal tic(s) here but I didn't wanna write baby talk. I'm thinking Binghe is about 16 15here, and Shizun has been made about 4.

✨ ETA: fic continues in my Shizun Babies AU tag ✨

Honestly, Shen Qingqiu had been thinking immediately before everything went to shit, My disciples know what they're doing; they don't need me.

And then the demon in question flung a spell with a frankly alarming amount of qi powering it at Luo Binghe, and of course Shen Qingqiu was the closest person to be able to help deflect, sticky thing that his Binghe was, and really, he'd intended to throw up a shield as soon as he got into position, but the spell was moving so much more quickly than anything else the demon had done so far, and, and, and --

Shen Qingqiu hit the ground. He felt Luo Binghe immediately leap over his position and sling two sword glares in the same movement, not a Qing Jing form but damn impressive. At least two more disciples took position surrounding where Shen Qingqiu was incapacitated -- covered in a blanket, maybe? He thought Ming Fan was the one breaking formation to get in close, based on the wordless yell and rapid footsteps, as all his disciples on this trip redoubled their efforts to take the creature down, hurling vincentives that Shen Qingqiu is sure he's never heard anyone utter since he died, cough cough. Shen Qingqiu knew his disciples would need guidance, the demon was apparently far more powerful than they'd given it credit for, but first he needed to see what the damage was, and if he would be in the way.

His head popped out of its covering triumphantly, just in time to see the demon be bisected vertically by a sword glare from the group next to him -- Binghe or Yingying, based on the warm tone -- and from behind by Ming Fan's sword.

Ah, well. He had just been thinking what good hands he was in.

"A-Yuan thinks this might be a very good lesson in not letting your guard down around an enemy, even if you think you have their measure," a childish lisp announced from his approximate location. Huh. He'd been trying to say 'this master' but that is not what came out of his mouth. "Also, A-Yuan thinks that spell was a very nasty trick, and is afraid to look down."

From the general direction of down, an open palm smacked him in the rough vicinity of his face.

Shen Qingqiu -- Shen Yuan, he must suppose-- looked down.

The face he saw bore a striking resemblance to the one he had seen in the mirror every day since he'd died, and, he suspected, an even more striking resemblance to the one he currently wore.

"Noisy," complained the Original Goods, because honestly, who the hell else could it be? The child -- if Shen Yuan had to guess, perhaps they were four or five years old, presuming he was just as deaged as the boy in his arms -- was naked except for the Peak Lord appropriate robes they were both loosely draped in, and was burrowing further into Shen Yuan's chest. "Xiao Jiu is trying to sleep."

Next

[f1fantasys]

Missed You

Summary - basically Y/N and Lando smut 😈

Warnings - smut, phone sex, p in v sex, swearing.

''Hey Lan!'' you smile from ear to ear upon seeing your boyfriend appear on your phone screen.

''Hi baby, I miss you'' he cooed, settling himself into bed and smiling back at you.

He was currently in Belgium for the GP but you had to stay back in Monaco due to work. Yes you called and texted as much as you could, but this trip was turning about to be a difficult one. You both missed each other a lot.

''I miss you too, but just a few more days until I'm back in your arms'' you replied back.

''Yeah baby, few more days. What are you-'' he stopped short and took a deep breath in when he saw what you were wearing while your back was facing the screen.

You were sporting one of his Mclaren t-shirts that had his name and number at the back. He knew exactly which one too, because it had shrunk in the dryer and had become much smaller and shorter, which gave him the hottest view of your black lacy panties beeping through the bottom.

''Fuck Y/N, you can't tease me like that. Your back was still facing him as you were making a coffee. You smiled to yourself, knowing you would get this exact reaction from him.

You turned around, face innocent. ''I don't know what you're talking about.'' You smirked as you took a sip of your drink.

''As if' he cheekily said. ''Might as well give me a show since you started it.'' it sounded like he was begging.

''Hmmm, depends. What do I get in return?'' you asked.

''Well, for starters-'' he flipped his camera around, showing himself cupping his already painfully swollen dick, dripping with pre-cum.

''Yeah okay fine, phone sex it is'' you wasted no time in replying, already feeling the heat pooling between your legs.

''Forget your coffee darling, go to the bedroom.''

''Uh huh'' was all you could form, not able to get the image of his dick out of mind.

You climbed onto your bed and positioned your phone against one of the pillows.

''Lando'' you breathed. Your turn to sound like you're begging.

''Take your panties off, leave the t-shirt on'' he instructed, eyes glued to his screen.

You slid off your panties to reveal your soaking cunt, literally dripping with juices.

''What would you do if I was there? he asked.

You decided to tease him a bit. You looked at him with doe eyes and said ''Play with myself,'' sounding more serious than you intended to.

He raised his eyebrows ''Yeah? Is that really what you'd do?'' he teased.

You couldn't hold in your laugh. ''JK, I'd probably suck you off'' you said as you bought your fingers down and started touching yourself.

''Fuck baby, I want nothing more than to feel your mouth on me. Shit, wish I was there to swallow that all up.'' he almost whispered. ''Scoop it all up and taste it.'' he continued.

You did as you were told, collecting all your juices and bringing your finger up to your mouth, moaning when you tasted yourself.

By now Lando had also positioned himself so you could see all of him. He took his cock back in his hands and started pumping himself.

''That's it. Now play with yourself Y/N'' he instructed further.

You brought your hands back to your throbbing cunt and slid your finger through your folds, pinching at your clit and rubbing tiny circles against it.

You knew your fingers were nothing compared to his, but to watch him in complete awe at watching you touch yourself? That was something you could get used to.

''Wish you were here Lan, need to feel your rough fingers in me'' you said between breathes. The thought of that alone already bringing you closer to the edge.

''Soon baby, but now slide two fingers in, all the way up'' he just about managed to say, also reaching his peak quicker than expected.

You inserted two fingers at once and started pumping them in and out, not struggling at all due to your own lube of juices.

''Oh, fuck, yes'' you moaned, while cupping your boobs with your other hand and pinching your peaked nipples through the thin material of your t-shirt.

''I-I didn't tell you to do that, but fuck me that's hot, Y/N''

You could feel yourself almost tip at the edge as your walls started clenching around your fingers, movements getting sloppier by the second. Your thumb found your clit again and in seconds you came crashing down.

''Lan, oh my god'' you grunted through gritted teeth, easing your fingers down to ride your through your orgasm.

''Look at me'' he instructed again. By now his movements were also being eratic while he bit on his bottom lip. Suddenly you were horny all over again, so your fingers went back to pumping in and out of you, faster than before.

''Go on Lan, fuck'' you muttered.

''Could say the same thing about you. Sitting there playing with yourself, wishing it was my head between your legs. Fuck I'm so hard, you don't know what you're doing to me'' he grunted.

It didn't take long for you to reach your second orgasm, crying out his name at the stimulation but also trying to focus on him and what his hands were doing.

''I'm close. I'm gonna -'' and before he could finish he was painting his stomach white with sheets of cum. That sight alone could have killed you.

Both of you, unable to talk, just breathless, the look of pure bliss on your faces.

When you finally regained some coherent thoughts you wanted, not needed to see something.

''Lan, taste yourself, please'' know you were actually begging, wanting nothing more than to see him do it.

He smirked, ''that dirty little mouth of yours'', before coating his fingers in his splutter and licking them clean, moaning at the taste.

''Fuck Lando I'm wet again'', not even surprised you were. '''Need to feel you in me'' you pouted, as if he would magically appear in front of you, ready to thrust into you.

''Y/N to earth,'' he laughed. ''Get one of your toys'''he demanded.

Quickly, too quickly, you reached under the bed to find your small of of toys. ''Which one?'' you asked him, holding up a dildo in one hand and a vibrator in the other.

''Fuck, both. Start with the vibrator, and stake your top off. Let me see those pretty boobs'' he said, breathless again, cupping himself, again.

You wasted no time in turning it to the highest setting, bringing it down to slide it through your folds, keeping it there for a few minutes while you and Lando exchanged looks, grunts, moans, trying to get each other off again.

When he'd had 'enough' of the vibrator, he told you to switch to the dildo, and making you place your camera to a better view of your hole so he could properly see it pumping in and a out of you.

It was a large one, not as large as Lando's dick, but it would to the job. You slid it in in a single movement, then stayed still for a few seconds to adjust yourself to the size.

As the pleasure started to overtake the pain, you started a steady rhythm, thrusting it in and out of your cunt, eyes glued to watching Lando, mouth agape and fiddling with his balls as he was pumping his cock.

''That's it baby, but go faster, please. I'm not gonna last long watching you like this'' he begged you.

You increased your pace, fucking the dildo into yourself, grunts and moans leaving your mouth as your free hand pinched your nipples again.

'''Lan I can't, I-I-I'm gonna come'' and not 2 seconds later your body was shaking, blissfully fucked out, and your eyes closed and you heart Lando mutter a few 'fucks' while emptying himself out again.

''Fucking love you' he said as you both tried to calm down and get your breathing back to normal.

You smiled at him. ''Love you too, now please come home soon. I need you.''

''Soon baby.'' he said as you both fell into a deep slumber.

Race day was finally here and Lando secured a well-deserved P2. You watched your TV and he grinned like he was a kid who was at Disneyland. He really was the hottest but most adorable boy. He was finally coming home to you tomorrow, and you wanted to get a good nights sleep in because you were sure of it - as soon as he walked through those doors tomorrow - you were going to jump him. Show him how much you missed him.

As you were in a deep sleep you felt something shift next to you in the bed. Your eyes shot open with a fright and were met with the beautiful eyes of your boyfriend.

''Lando!'' you shrieked, sitting up and all but jumping into his arms. Partly forgetting you went to bed naked, so you were surprised when he swore and pulled back faster than you would have liked, and checked you out as he would his dream car.

''Fuck baby, best welcome home surprise ever'' he said, still gaping at your body.

''Well,' you started, 'I wasn't expecting you home so early'' you said, trying to cover yourself with the blanket. But of course he ripped it off of you and threw it on the floor.

He didn't even say anything. He just pushed to back down and hovered above you. Bringing his lips down to meet yours in a fiery kiss that had your toes curling.

''Missed you so much'' he whispered between the kisses as he let his tongue slide into your mouth and explore it.

''Show me how much'' you boldly said.

He quickly shimmied his body down yours and opened your legs, wasting no time in licking a strip up your cunt. You hadn't realized how wet you already were until he started sucking and the noises of your juices in combination with his mouth were somewhat obscene, feeling the graze of his beard scratching at your most sensitive parts.

''Fuck, Lando, please, need more'' you begged him.

''Patience, baby-girl. We have all night'' he smiled as he continues his slaughter.

Lando then quickly thrust two fingers into your cunt at once, giving you no time to react. And by now the noises leaving your mouth were nothing short of filthy.

''So fucking wet for me baby-girl. Were you that desperate for my touch?'' he asked. But you were too blissed out to answer, so you just nodded your head. Abruptly, his movements stopped and you whined.

''Lan, please'' but he stayed still. You opened your eyes to find his, boring into yours. ''Words, Y/N'''he said sternly.

''Fuck Lando. Always desperate for your touch'' you said through breathy moans. You gave him what he wanted to hear because it was true, you were so desperate for him.

In no time your body was trembling under Lando and you couldn't help but release your juices into his mouth, making him moan at the taste and sight of you.

''So delici-'' but before he could finish you cut him off, pushing him off of you and sitting up on your knees.

'''Need to taste you, please'' you all but begged, while he was just shocked at your quick turn around. But who was he to deny you anything.

Lando sat against the headboard as you pulled his boxers down to see his cock standing hard and tall, swollen, begging for attention. You took him in your hand and fondled with it, paying some attention to his balls too.

''Y/N, please. Fuck. Please''

You smirked with innocent eyes. ''Patience, we have all night.''

''You're trouble'' he mumbled before he felt you take the tip of him in your mouth. You swirled you tongue around, tasting his pre-cum, before sucking lightly. This made him jerk forward, involuntarily, almost hurting you in the process.

''Shit Y/N, are you okay?'' he asked, taking your face in his hands, worry evident in his eyes.

''Never better'' you said, pushing him back and continuing with your activities. This time, you took more of him in your mouth. As much as your could. Feeling him throb in your mouth.

Lando's hands found place in your hair, holding it back and also using it a leverage to fuck into your mouth.

In no time you were gagging, tears beginning to sting the corners of your eyes. You could also tell he was getting close because of the way his movements were getting sloppier by the second, and not to mention it sounded like a porno was happening in your room right now. Lando's moans and grunts, your mouth sounding sloppy with spit running down your body.

''Baby, as much as I wanna cum in your mouth, I need to be inside of you, like 5 minutes ago. Please.'' he begged.

You didn't need much convincing, quickly freeing his cock from your mouth and turning your body around, on your all fours.

Lando quickly got up, pumped himself a few times, and lined himself at your entrance.

He slid in with ease , both your moans long and breathless. Finally getting the feeling you've craved intensively for a while now.

He pulled back out and slammed into you again, wasting no time, setting a rough and fast pace. His balls were slapping against your body whenever he re-entered you.

''Fuck, Lando, please, harder, faster'' you begged him.

But Lando was truly in his own world, with one goal in mind - fucking you harder than every before. He hand slapped your ass a few times as once again, the noise of your bodies slamming together, moans and grunts filling the room.

You hoped your neighbors weren't home, sure they could hear what was going on. But within a second you secretly hoped they were, so the could hear how good Lando was making you feel.

Lando pulled your body back now now you were just on your knees, putting all of your weight on Lando. His hands massaged your boobs as he started nibbling at your neck, marking you as his, leaving bruises for sure, all the while fucking into you from behind.

''M'close'' you muttered and with no warning your orgasm came upon you. Legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up and Land snaked his arms around you.

''I know you have a lot more in you. Taking me so fucking well. That's it, keep going'' he whispered in your ear. To no surprise, you came again, and again. Pussy aching for sure, but also not getting enough of Lando, who was now chasing his own release.

He pulled out and climbed off the bed, flipping you on your back and dragged your body to the edge, now able to pound into you from this new angle, which was reaching all the right places within in die to the force he was using.

''Lan, please, no more'' you begged.

''One more angel, with me, please.'' he panted as he brought his lips down to your in an assuring kiss, before lowering his mouth again and sucking on your nipples, biting at them harshly.

Your hands now playing and pulling at his curls.

Now he was getting frisky and sloppy, at the edge of release, as you felt yourself let go, crying out his name.

''Holy fuck Y/N'' was all he said as he came in your cunt. Sheets of warm splutter, literally filling you to the brink.

Lando's own body threatening to quiver, he pulled out of you, both of you moaning at the loss of contact. But seeing his cum drip out of your pussy bit by bit, he couldn't help but scoop some in his mouth and eventually spit it into your own mouth.

He collapsed onto you, kissing you with no urgency but just a lazy, slow make out session and you pulled him as close as possible, not wanting to let go.

After a while though, the stickiness between you was drying up, so Lando got up to get a warm cloth to wipe you both down before climbing into bed with you and pulling you close. Both exhausted and fucked out to even say anything but ''I love you.''

When you woke the next morning it took you a second to remember why you were aching down there. But then you felt his arm slide around your body and pull you closer, and all the memories came flooding back.

You couldn't help but smile as you turned around to see Lando beaming at you.

''Morning baby'' he said, rather loudly.

''Good morning Lan, but why the fuck are you talking so loudly and why are you smiling like that? you exclaimed.

''Errrr, just happy to have you back in my arms, that's all.'' he said as he pecked your nose.

''Likewise, Lan. I really missed you this time round'' you said, kissing him on the lips, hard.

''Sooooo, shower?'' he asked.

''As much as i want to, I'm so sore Lando. You really did a number on me last night!''

''Just shows you how much of an effect you have on me babe.''

''Yeahhhh, but still. I love you, but go shower by yourself, because I'm not sure I can even walk right now.''

''Then my work here is done.'' he said, climbing out of bed, leaving you scoffing.

He walked to the bathroom, butt-naked, before disappearing in it. You watched in awe. His messy curls. His toned body. His morning scruff. His morning wood, standing hard and tall. Heat already pooling between your legs.

Not 2 seconds later and he popped his head out.

''You coming?'' he asked, quite seriously.

And you couldn't have jumped out of bed faster even if you wanted to.

[wickedapostate]

Veilguard Intended Romance Statistics

While of course nothing is set in stone at the moment, I am very curious about who is intending to romance each of the companions of Veilguard. So I've put together surveys for each covering information about the Rook along with the other main characters of the worldstate they're from, excluding the Orlesian Warden-Commander.

These surveys have been put together exclusively on mobile, so if they have any problems that likely is why. Please do inform me though if there are any critical issues or exclusions.

At some point, at maximum the Veilguard release date, these surveys will be closed and I'll be compiling the information from them and posting it here. This is because I'm currently most interested in the pre-release trends and documenting them, I am certain there will be similar surveys after the game is released.

I am looking for as big a sample size as possible, so please feel free to share this far and wide in any Dragon Age related groups and spaces you may be part of.

Without further ado, the surveys. Please take any you feel are applicable to who you are planning to romance in Veilguard.

Bellara

Davrin

Emmerich Volkarin

Lace Harding

Lucanis Dellamorte

Neve Gallus

Taash

Update: October 30th 2024 is now when these surveys will close!

[avelera]

Thank you for talking about how Viktor wouldn't be mean to Jayce! I do really agree that fandom really tries to boil them down to their basics or preexisting tropes and it really sucks to see people think he'd really insult Jayce or hit him with his cane. Something I started thinking about after I read that post is that so much of the cast are Zaunite and nearly every one of them are sharp-tongued, and so maybe that's why people think Viktor would be mean? But that doesn't really take into account his personality or how he might feel he has to present himself as someone from Zaun living in Piltover.

Yeah the "hitting with the cane" trope definitely feels OOC for him to me. I could maybe see him tapping or hooking Jayce to get his attention but... even then. We rarely see Viktor use his cane or crutch for anything but their intended purpose.

If I may extrapolate out, I find it notable that when he has the cane pre-time skip he leaves it aside when possible, like when standing at the blackboard, and tries to mask his disability. I know for many people with disabilities, they love their aids, and the aids given them freedom of movement and from pain, but I would venture to say that Viktor does not see his crutch or his cane all that favorably.

I think Viktor sees his disability aids as necessary indignities that he'd rather do without if he could. See how quickly he drops his crutch once he tests out being able to run post-experimentation. He probably only goes back and gets it, rather than abandoning it there, because he wants to continue to hide the experiments he's doing.

Combine that with Jayce noting how he saw his leg as a "weakness" and I think there is further evidence that Viktor sees his crutch or cane rather negatively.

Which is a roundabout way of saying, I don't think Viktor would use his crutch or his cane as a hook or a bludgeon against Jayce not only because he's arguably the most pacifistic character in the whole show, but also because I don't think he really likes using it or thinking about it for anything but its intended purpose of assisting his mobility. I think Jayce views Viktor's crutch more favorably than Viktor does, he sees it as a part of Viktor in a positive way, an extension of him.

As for the topic of Zaun, I do agree that I think some fics give Viktor more of a, hmm, "class consciousness" around Zaun than he's shown to have?

For example:

Viktor only ever calls it "the undercity" in S1. Calling it Zaun at all is something that radicals like Silco do, it's even implied that Silco is kind of resurrecting a long-dead name for the area as part of his separatist movement, so it might not even be in wide use beyond Silco's circles, like Viktor may not have even really heard of it as a common term in S1. In addition, if "Zaun" is a politically charged term, I wouldn't be surprised if Viktor would avoid calling it that at all, because he's not a separatist or a radical, he's just from there and he thinks of it as "the undercity". Viktor is not shown as someone from the undercity who really wants to rock the boat in Piltover politically and he's certainly not a separatist, he wants to help the undercity as a disadvantaged community within Piltover.

The only time I think we see Viktor call it "Zaun" is somewhat in the abstract in S2, when he admires Vander's vision for "Zaun as it could have been". To me, it felt like he was discussing Zaun as a distant ideal rather than as the place where he was currently located or a political identity he identified with. He admires that other people who are more political than him had a cohesive vision for something the undercity that Viktor knows could become.

Viktor is actually incredibly apolitical, which is interesting when you consider he was assistant to Heimerdinger, who was head of the Council. He considers Jayce's time as a Councilor a "waste of our time", it never even occurs to him to use that political power to improve lives in the undercity, instead of science. In general Viktor tends to be pretty blind to other discipline besides science when it comes to bettering the world, and is even dismissive of them, which I think is a bit narrow-minded of him to be honest.

Viktor's dismissiveness towards anything that isn't science when it comes to improving lives is certainly a factor in how his and Jayce's relationship becomes strained in S1, he never sees Jayce's work as a Councilor as potentially offering a broader avenue for achieving their goals to help the undercity, not once, which is actually rather baffling and interesting that he has this blindspot (possibly because of my theory that at a certain point in S1, once he knows he's rapidly dying, Viktor is only using "helping the undercity" as a smokescreen to others but mostly himself to cover up his shame for the fact he really just wants to use Hextech to save himself while the undercity has become secondary, but he doesn't want to admit that. That also explains his shame when he sees Sky's notes and realizes he's been trying to save himself to the exclusion of all else, that he's lost sight of his larger goals and dreams.)

Even when Viktor starts the cult in the undercity, it's not a politically motivated enclave, he doesn't describe it as part of a Zaunite movement. It really is just posed as a refuge for those in need, separate entirely I would argue from the Piltover vs. Zaun conflict, unlike Ekko's Firelights who provide shelter AND do community action and freedom fighting. Indeed, Viktor heals Salo, a Councilor, the most privileged of the privileged from Piltover. I'd argue this is an additional sign that he is "colorblind" when it comes to the conflict between the two cities.

Finally, I would argue that Viktor is from a generation that somewhat precedes the class conflicts and brewing civil war between Piltover and the undercity. I think he's from a generation where the cities were still linked enough that they were more like the "good" and the "bad" side of the tracks. He was smart enough to get out and make something of himself in the big city, he has a goal of helping to uplift those he left behind, but he sees them as one city still even if he has sympathy later for a separatist movement. The way he talks about the undercity to me feels less like a separate entity and more a particular disadvantaged community within Piltover.

Anyway, I've gone off on like three crazy wild tangents based on your reply. Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed that post! And I agree, of all the Zaunites, Viktor is actually quite different from the others and that is really interesting to explore!

[cupidologys]

⸻ imprint.

pairing: grimmjow x reader

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: life becomes increasingly complicated after a seemingly one-night stand with grimmjow extends way past the one-night mark.

as it turns out, arrancars become very clingy, very fast.

Opening your eyes to an arrancar laid next to you in your bed was not your idea of a happy wake-up call. He was still asleep; his gentle snores break the silence as you spring up, scrambling to retrace last night’s memories. A soft groan leaves you as it all comes flooding back.

The break up. The violent sobbing. The tissues and excessive consumption of bottom shelf tequila. The violent puking. The rebound that was currently still in your bed.

Oh, you are so thoroughly, completely fucked.

You curse yourself. How could you be so stupid as to drunkenly hook up with—

Your thoughts stutter as your brain fully catches up to last night’s memories. You remember the screaming and anger when you found out about your ex’s infidelity, which led to a night of reckless abandonment at a nearby bar, which further led to your very worried friends picking you up and bringing you home. Grimmjow was there for reasons you can’t remember. What you can recall, definitively, is that you did not sleep with him. He had carried you up to your apartment, settled you in bed, and was about to leave when you dragged him into the sheets for cuddles, refusing to let go until he conceded.

Embarrassing? Yes. As bad as hooking up with him? Not by a long shot.

A shift in movement beside you jolts you out of your thoughts. Grimmjow mutters something, voice still groggy with sleep. You freeze and ignore him, pretending not to hear. You pray that he goes back to sleep. Your prayers go unheard.

“[Y/N]?”

Silence.

He blinks one strikingly blue eye open and settles it on you. With a roll of his neck, he stretches out—lazy and languid. You stare straight at your bedroom door, hoping to avoid eye contact—and his incredibly sculpted muscles.

Why the hell is he shirtless?!

“Good morning,” you say with as much casualness as you can muster. It isn’t a lot. Your words come out more strangled than you intended. You want to weep.

Grimmjow doesn’t seem to notice—or care. “Morning. You want coffee?”

“I…” you swallow, unsure of how to navigate this situation. You decide to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I think you should go.”

Grimmjow opens his mouth to say something, but something in your expression stops him. He just gives you a slightly perplexed look before nodding slowly.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Are you serious?” He scoffs, unbelieving. “You realize the entire reason why I barely slept a wink last night was because you kept tossing, turning, and crying so hard I thought you’d shrivel up from dehydration?”

You feel your cheeks flame.

“You didn’t have to stay!”

Grimmjow moves closer to you, angling himself to face you directly. The proximity makes you dizzy among such tension.

“What was I supposed to do, sweetheart? Leave you to drown in your own tears? I’m not that cruel.”

You repeat yourself, quieter this time. “You still didn’t have to stay.”

“I chose to.”

He moves away, leaving you speechless and confused.

“Get dressed.”

“What?” You reply, still reeling from his words. “Why?”

“I’m taking you to breakfast.”

Dumbfounded, you can only manage another: “What?”

“Breakfast. To replenish all those fluids you lost.” Grimmjow swings his coat over his shoulders before tossing a hoodie on your head. “And to fuel up before killing that ex boyfriend of yours.”

He leaves the room before you can process his words. Once you do, you jump up from the bed with a wince—the hangover still piercing—and scramble after him in alarm.

“Grim! Don’t you fucking dare! Get back here, you overgrown lab rat!”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

“I need help.”

Ichigo barely looks up from the eggs benedict he’s scarfing down. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d be scared he’d choke.

“Wow. You must be desperate if you’re coming to me for relationship advice.”

“First of all, it's not a relationship. Second of all, I know enough embarrassing things about you to ruin the rest of your very long life if you ever decided to speak of this to someone else.”

He shoots you a sideways look. “Noted.”

You anxiously drum your fingers on the table. “It’s about Grimmjow.”

Ichigo wrinkles his nose. “What about him?”

“He’s been acting weird.”

The shinigami bites into a piece of bacon. You already regret bringing him to brunch to sort this out. Sadly, it was the only way to get him to bail on his college club meeting.

“Weird how?” He asks between chews.

You sigh. “I don’t even know. Ever since that night, something’s been different. He’s weirdly clingy—the other day, I was running errands and ended up with a six-foot-one tag-along for every single one. It made my bank visit and hair appointment interesting, to say the least. Does he have a crush on me now or something?”

“Oh that’s not new.”

You look at Ichigo in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?”

“The crush? That’s not new. Whatever this thing is, it’s worse,” he answers nonchalantly.

The news makes your head spin. Grimmjow has a crush on you? Why? How? Since when? Was it when he moved to the human world?

Ichigo’s voice pulls you from your spiral. “Have you watched any vampire or werewolf movies?”

You balk at the insinuation. “Are you saying he imprinted on me? Like some kind of giant freak baby duck?!”

“More like he’s simply gotten attached to you… maybe it’s some weird arrancar mating thing?” Ichigo offers.

You deflate. “That is so not better.”

He shrugs. “You’re the one that decided to get into bed with an arrancar.”

“We didn’t do anything!”

“...Would you want to?”

You open your mouth for a firm rejection, but for some reason the words lodge in your throat. Grimmjow is rough around the edges, without question. He’s stubborn, reckless, and a pain in your ass. Regardless, you’ve been privy to his genuinity firsthand. You can’t recall a single time he hadn’t been there for you when you needed him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“You should figure that out then. It seems you both have some complicated feelings to sort out.”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for the last twenty minutes. Your ex has found another number already—the last one was blocked only two days ago. You have half a mind to throw your phone into the pond in front of you. The koi fish probably wouldn’t be too happy about that, though—and neither would their owner. Out of respect for the wildlife—and Rukia—you settle for shutting the device off entirely. A temporary fix, yes, but at least you’ll have some peace and quiet for the rest of the night.

The party inside is in full swing—crowds of people mill around the house with drinks in hand and inhibitions loose. The music is so loud the bass shakes the foundations of the building; four stories of flashing lights, hazy vapours, and drunken stupors thrum a few hundred feet behind you. Rukia’s place is huge—perfect for a summer send off for a bunch of rowdy college students. You only hope Byakuya doesn’t find out about this one. The last time that happened… you cringe at the memory.

The garden is far enough from the main part of the house—mansion, more appropriately—that you only hear muffled beats of the blaring stereos and screaming students. A good thing too as you feel a headache coming on from the events of the night. You sit on a soft patch of grass a few metres from the edge of the water, watching as shining fish circle each other in colourful rhythms. The solo cup in your hand has long run dry. You prefer to stay sober from now on; you don’t need a repeat of what happened two months ago.

The moon is high against the dark canvas of the sky. It should be half past one by now. From your experience, the partygoers won’t filter out until hours later.

The sound of footsteps makes you turn. Grimmjow saunters towards you, a beer in hand. You aren’t sure how to act around him. You haven’t ever since you found out about his crush on you. You aren’t even sure you believe it to be true; it’s Grimmjow, for heaven’s sake. A crush? Romantic feelings? Such concepts don’t even exist in the lives of people like him.

Regardless, it’s been an awkward couple of weeks—for you, at least. It’s not easy trying to ignore an arrancar hellbent on pestering you every second of the day.

You’d be lying if you say you haven’t missed him though.

“Drink?” He holds out his bottle to you in offering.

You wince. “Better not. I have plans tomorrow morning.”

He takes a seat next to you in the grass. You shuffle over slightly, still wary of his closeness. The movement makes him frown, but surprisingly, he doesn’t comment on it.

“What plans?”

“I…” You hesitate. For reasons you don’t want to understand, it feels uncomfortable to tell him. “I have a date.”

Grimmjow’s beer bottle shatters in his hand, spraying him with alcohol. You jump up in alarm, panicking at the mess of glass and foaming liquid.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?! What the hell was that?!”

“I’m fine,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

You stare at him in bewilderment. The liquid drips down his forearm, pooling at his feet. Glass shards litter the grass around him as he wipes his hand on the front of his jeans.

“Let me see your hand.”

He pulls away from you as you try to take his hand in yours. “I said I’m fine.”

“Your hand, Grimmjow. Give it,” you insist.

He grumbles in annoyance but eventually relents. He was right—there’s no cut in sight. His skin is unbroken and… really, really warm. You yank your hand away, flustered at the heated contact.

“A date? Seriously?”

“Huh?” You look up, embarrassment forgotten. He’s looking straight ahead towards the pond and garden fixtures, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

He’s beautiful.

You startle yourself with that sudden thought. When did you start noticing the little things? Like the curve of his lips and the vibrance of his eyes. When did you start viewing him… differently? You ignore these dangerous thoughts—pushing them aside to maintain a semblance of control.

“What’s wrong with a date?”

He grunts in answer. He still hasn’t looked at you.

“It’s just this blind date thing I promised a friend I would try. It’s not like it’ll go anywhere,” you ramble. You’re not quite sure why you feel the need to explain yourself but you do it regardless. “Anyway, I’m still dealing with the break-up so it’s not like I have time or the mental capacity to actually date.”

“You still haven’t moved on?” He asks, disgust lacing his tone.

You shrug. From your asshole ex? Absolutely. From the emotional turmoil of the relationship’s aftermath? Not so much.

“I’m dealing with it.”

Grimmjow does not like that answer. “For fucks sake, [Y/N], how are you still hung up on him? How is he worth this? Any of this? That bastard hasn’t deserved you since the day he got you!”

Your jaw drops at his outburst.

“Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

“Because you’re being fucking stupid!” Grimmjow stands up and starts pacing. The unexpected argument sends you spiralling into a fit of anger matching his own.

“Excuse me?” You stand up too and narrow your eyes at the arrancar.

He whips around to you, all six-foot-one of him towering over your frame. The heat emanating off of him is palpable in the chilly night air. His gaze is sharp—cutting into your own with intense emotion.

“You’re stupid because you don’t realize you deserve better.”

“And what? Who the hell is better? You?” You’re pushing him for a reaction.

He gives it to you.

“Yes!”

The word makes you both freeze. Grimmjow looks shocked at his own response; his eyes are so wide you can see your own surprise reflected in their icy blue.

“So you do have feelings for me,” you whisper.

Grimmjow’s head drops, his gaze now boring into the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was embarrassed.

“Was that not fucking obvious?” He grumbles.

“Apparently not to me.”

He rubs his neck and lets out a long breath. “Well…” His eyes focus on you. “Now you know.”

Your heart is beating so fast it feels like it’ll burst out of your chest.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Grimmjow asks uneasily. He fidgets with his hair, anxiously waiting for your reply.

“You’re one of my closest friends, Grim. I don’t like change. I’m not very good at it,” you note.

“But what if the change is good?”

You cough out a dry laugh. “Are you saying you’re good? You? Mr. Almighty Espada?”

“Depends who you ask.”

You pretend to think. “Hmm… how about Ichigo?”

“Who cares what that moron thinks.”

“Well, considering he’s my best friend—”

Grimmjow scowls. “Still not thrilled about that, by the way.”

You smile at his indignation.

“I’m not cancelling my date.”

“What?” Grimmjow’s face falls and you try not to giggle at how easily he resembles a kicked puppy.

“Tomorrow. 5pm. Pick me up then?”

It takes a second for him to register what you mean, but when he does, he smirks and throws an arm around you, pulling you in for a side-hug that nearly suffocates you. You don’t mind at all.

“Or we can just start the date now.”

You laugh. “Slow done, cowboy. I have to change my number first thing tomorrow morning. He hasn’t stopped blowing up my phone.”

Grimmjow growls. “You know, you shouldn’t have stopped me from killing him last time.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know if you’re joking.” You tilt your head in concern. “It’s worrying.”

He shoots you an irritated look. “Why would I be joking?”

You merely shake your head, looking at him in amusement. For the first time in a long while, you have a feeling that everything will work out just fine.

[uvobreakmylegs]

As Fate Would Have it

red thread of fate soulmate! AU with Razor x reader

this fic now has a Part 2 written by @hypnoswrites! please read Man-Made Destiny once you've read this part!

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of death

Word Count: 12.2k words

He hadn't said anything to you.

After returning to your hotel room only to immediately be jumped by the man who had clearly been laying in wait for you, he had yet to utter a single word, instead staying quiet through the process of grabbing and restraining you. Even when you had tried to kick and scream when you realized that you were being attacked, he didn't explain anything or mutter out any curses when you were successful in hitting him a few times. Not even to mock you when it was clear that you were lacking the strength needed to do any sort of damage to him.

It was only for a short period of time that your limbs were free, and now you were laying on the hotel bed, your wrists bound behind your back, your ankles tied together and a washcloth from the bathroom having been forced into your mouth in order to keep you quiet.

Earlier you were crying and screaming into the material of the makeshift gag, the terror of the situation overtaking you. But when nothing further happened, you managed to calm down enough to keep quiet, and now you were waiting for what he intended to do from here. With how tightly he had bound you, there was no scenario where you got out of your constraints on your own. Which meant there were only two possibilities: a third party would find and untie you, or he would untie you himself.

The first possibility seemed incredibly unlikely.

That second possibility seemed like it would only happen if he viewed you in a positive light.

So you stayed quiet, hoping that your silence would be interpreted as submission.

Currently the man was across from where you lay on the bed, sitting forward in the chair that had been placed in front of the window. In the initial attack, all you had truly registered was how much taller and stronger he was in the way he had picked you up and threw you onto the bed without any effort. Now that things had calmed down and you were trying to be smart about the moves you made, you were able to take in the details you hadn't noticed before. Like his short, spiky purple hair and his prominent cheekbones.

The way the light from the nearby lamp hit him somehow made him feel even more intimidating than he already was, the shadows almost creating an ominous aura about him. As if you weren't scared enough of him already.

At least he wasn't touching you anymore. After he'd gagged you, his hands stayed on you while you continued to struggle. And even after your struggles had died down completely, they stayed there, occasionally to gliding up and down your body while he stared at you.

What exactly those dark eyes were seeing when he stared at you in that way that felt so intense, you couldn't begin to imagine.

It was a relatively recent development that he'd had enough of it and moved away from the bed, shifting the blinds of the window slightly to peek out before sitting down across from you, watching you with a pensive look on his face.

Being that you were now in a calmer state, you wished you could ask him why he was doing this. What he wanted and what he planned to do with you.

…. It wasn't completely true that you wanted to know the answer to the last one; you were too scared that he would tell you that he planned on ending your life. Or maybe he was planning on selling you. Both of those things happening was also a possibility.

How much time had passed since you had first entered your room was unclear – you kept your gaze on him, waiting to see if and when he would act.

When that time finally came and he did speak, it surprised you.

“This must be terrible for you.”

You blinked when you heard his voice for the first time, but continued to keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I kept thinking of what I should say,” he told you, “what I could say to make this easier on you, so you could understand what's going on. And while I don't think that I'm terrible when it comes to words, I've never found myself more stumped than I am right now.”

He sighed as he added “if only you could see it, or if I didn't have to get back so quick, it wouldn't be this way. I wouldn't have needed to do this to you.”

'Do this'?

Tears began to fill your eyes again, and despite how you had told yourself to keep quiet, you tried to speak. Desperation drove you to beg for your life, something that could've been a horrible decision if he was easily angered, but his eyebrows raised slightly while he hummed.

“You want to say something?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

He considered you a moment before he got to his feet, returning to sit on the edge of the bed and placing one hand firmly on your shoulder.

“I'll take this out,” he began, motioning to the washcloth before adding “but make sure you don't scream. It'll only end badly for you.”

You nodded again, this time in a much more steady manner as you were desperate to show that you were calm and wanted to cooperate.

The man was satisfied with that, and he pulled the washcloth out of your mouth, freeing your tongue from the taste and texture of the heavy fabric that had grown wet from your saliva. You couldn't help but cough for a moment, relieved to get that out of your mouth. All the while he kept that hand on your shoulder while also being prepared to gag you again if you got too loud.

But you followed his instruction, and he seemed to relax some when moments passed and you didn't start screaming.

Then you spoke to him.

“Sir,” you began, “please don't kill me.”

At that, he smiled.

“Ah, that was what you were worried about, was it?”

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as he said “don't worry. You aren't going to die.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

He pulled you up into a sitting position and moved your legs so they were placed over his lap. With how your wrists and ankles were still bound, it felt awkward, but you didn't dare make any move to try and free yourself. Not right now.

“It would be terrible for me if you died,” he said, “so believe me when I say that's the last thing I could ever want.”

You didn't understand how exactly that could be bad for him, but you nodded as if you did.

“Um, so,” you began, “can I ask what exactly it is that you do want?”

“For you to come with me.”

“Come with you? Wh-where?”

“An island.”

“… An island?”

He saw the way your eyebrows furrowed and patted you on the cheek as he said “I feel all of this is something that will make more sense if you see it rather than have me explain it to you. So while it might be confusing for now, I promise it will become clear in time.”

“For now,” he continued, “I need your full cooperation.”

“….. So you can take me to an island?”

“Yes.”

You wanted to ask what happened after that, but he spoke again before you were able to.

“You can't use nen, so we'll need to go the long way to get there,” he said, “we'll be leaving tomorrow.”

What the fuck is nen?

That thought flashed through your head before you focused on the second part of his sentence: leaving tomorrow?

“I-I'm supposed to head back home tomorrow,” you told him, “people will notice when I don't come back.”

“Then we'll have to get going early.”

He smiled as he said that, speaking as though this was a last-minute trip that you were a willing participant in and brushing off what you said completely. Like the fact that there were people who would notice once you were gone wasn't a concern to him. He didn't care that he was taking you away from them. He didn't care that you didn't want to go with him.

And there was nothing you could do about that. After all, the first thing this man had done was prove to you that you couldn't fight him off.

As much as you wanted to scream and yell at him to let you go or cry out for help in the hopes your neighbors would hear you and call for help on your behalf, at best all that would do was get that washcloth stuffed inside your mouth again, and that was at best. If you wanted any chance of getting away from this man, you needed to get him to trust you enough so his guard relaxed.

It was the only way.

“With that said, we should get some sleep,” he told you, patting you on the cheek again while he added “we have a long drive ahead of us, and once we start, I want to make as few stops as possible.”

He gently pushed you back onto the mattress before moving your legs off of his lap and standing back up.

You were compelled to speak again when he began to walk away.

“Can I ask one last question?”

He paused, turning to look at you as he said “of course.”

“Who….. Who are you?”

He smiled at you and answered with his name.

“Razor.”

There was little sleep to be had that night. While the bed in the hotel room was incredibly soft and comfortable, it was hard to sleep when you had a kidnapper nearly twice your size laying next to you. The feeling was made worse during the times of the night when he put a hand on you again, running up and down your side with experimental touches. He knew you were awake during those times as well, as more often than not you weren't able to keep in the scared noises that came from your mouth whenever his hand brushed near your neck or went lower than your stomach, still fearful of his intentions. He didn't reprimand you, likely because you were doing your best to be quiet. But he didn't stop either, not seeming to care at all how much this was distressing you. To top it off, your arms remained bound, forcing you to try and rest in an uncomfortable position that guaranteed you would lose sleep no matter how soft the mattress was.

Dawn had barely cracked when Razor got up, shaking you awake when it felt like you had just barely gotten to sleep. Your tiredness was definitely showing even with how hard you tried to be alert, because he chuckled at you.

“Don't worry,” he told you, “you can sleep in the car if you need to.”

However, the moment you were placed in the passenger's seat, you were wide awake again. And as Razor drove you away from your hotel and down the highway in the opposite direction of the airport, despair settled in the pit of your stomach. You were being kidnapped, and you were doing nothing to stop it because there simply wasn't anything you could do.

So you sat there silently with your hands bound again as he took you, and the only saving grace of the situation was the fact that he'd tied them in front so you were a bit more comfortable this time.

Razor stayed silent as well while he kept his focus on the road.

An entire day passed with barely anything being said. You didn't say anything unless he spoke up first, and when you did speak, it was just to let out a “yes” or an “okay” to whatever he told you to do. Like when he tossed you a protein bar and told you to eat, or when he told you to keep your hands on your lap so no one passing by might catch sight of your bound wrists.

Cooperate fully. Make him think you were too scared to go against him. Wait for him to let his guard down.

The worst moment was when he stopped the car to fill up the gas tank, and he allowed your wrists to be free once more as he let you out to use the nearby restroom. Before letting you go, he whispered a warning as he told you not to get any stupid ideas. You didn't need any clarification: there was only one person at the station that you could see, standing away from the pumps so they could smoke their cigarette in peace. With only them seeming to be present, trying to get help here was a stupid idea, and one you would only do if you had no care for the innocent bystander who would undoubtedly suffer because of it.

It was when you were leaving the bathroom and heading back to the car that you felt heavy. Razor's eyes were fixed on you when you stepped out, and the sight had you frozen for a moment.

You didn't want to go to him. Every instinct in you was telling you to run, run as fast as you can and don't look back until you find somewhere safe.

But he was expecting that.

Despite the laid back body language he displayed, a gut feeling told you that he'd be on you the instant you tried getting away from him. That same gut feeling told you that it was better not to anger him. Even if he said that he didn't want you dead, how the hell could you trust a man who had kidnapped you?

You walked back to the car, albeit slowly. If your pace was enough to annoy him, he chose not to comment on it, though the instant you were both back in the car he restrained your wrists again.

Razor drove well into the night, not stopping to rest even when you felt it was too hard to keep your eyes open. You fell asleep like that, and when you woke up early the next morning with an ache in your neck, he was still driving, and you wondered if he had slept at all that night.

After another breakfast of an energy bar and bottled water, you got up the courage to ask him a question.

“How far will we be driving?” you asked.

“Until we reach the coast.”

“Ah.”

That would take a while, then. You weren't that close to any oceans. So it would be a long time spent being around him in the small space of the car.

At least he couldn't do anything to you while he was focused on the road, right?

Turning your attention to the window, you saw that the highway you were on was now slowly filling up with traffic. It was still early morning, thus the morning traffic was merging on the road. Much to Razor's displeasure, as you heard him make an annoyed grunt when he was forced to slow down the speed of the car.

It was disheartening to know that the trip would last that much longer.

You expected that today would be a repeat of the previous: he would say very little aside from ordering you now and then, and you would keep quiet and do as he said. The less you needed to speak with this man, the better.

But then he spoke up.

“You seem tired; are you sure you don't want to sleep more?” he asked.

It took you a few moments to reply, and during that time he glanced over to you. That was what spurred you to respond.

“I don't think I can,” you answered.

“If the front seat is too uncomfortable for you, I can pull over and you can move to the back.”

“I'm okay.”

“… I see.”

You kept your eyes averted from him, not sure what all of this was about but not wanting to poke the bear to find out. Why was he pretending to look out for your well-being? God, all you wanted was to be away from him.

But now with the traffic forcing him to drive far beneath the speed limit and the already long road you had ahead of you, getting away from him wouldn't come any time soon. And now it seemed that your previous question had encouraged him to talk to you, as Razor broke the silence once again.

“You're free to talk, if you'd like.”

“…. I'm okay.”

You didn't say anything after that, and once a few moments had passed, you sensed his gaze on you again when he looked over to you.

“You're getting bored of doing nothing but sitting, aren't you? Why don't you tell me about yourself?” he asked.

The fuck did that mean?

You shook your head, and you felt his confusion grow as he continued to watch you.

“You seemed more eager to speak the other night,” he commented.

Probably because I was panicked from getting jumped in my hotel room, you thought to yourself. Now you didn't want to say anything, or even know anything about what would happen to you. The previous day you had spent in silent dread only built up your paranoia and your fear and you didn't want to hear some story from him that was undoubtedly untrue all to keep you calm for the journey.

You didn't need to know the details of what would happen, the scenarios in your mind that slowly began running wild being all that you needed to guess as to what your fate would be at the end of all this. You were definitely going to die; the fact that he didn't care about you seeing his face seemed like proof of that.

So why give him the satisfaction of feeding you false hope that things wouldn't be as bad as you thought they would be?

Although…..

You had to admit that the island story felt like a weird lie to feed you. Surely he could've come up with something better, some reason that wasn't quite so mysterious. Then again, you couldn't think of any good lie to feed to someone who was being kidnapped.

But again, why in the world would he say that?

The traffic around you was starting to get better when you voiced that thought.

“Why do I need to go to the island?” you asked.

“Because I need you,” he answered.

“For what?”

He didn't answer, and you glanced back over to find that Razor's smile had fallen as he kept his gaze on the road. It didn't seem like he intended on answering you. If that was the case, then you should leave it be. No sense in angering him unnecessarily. He was the one in control, not you.

But he eventually surprised you when he chose to speak again.

“Unfortunately,” he began, “that's one thing I can only explain once we get there.”

“Oh.”

That again.

“Is there a reason why you can't explain now?” you asked.

“Because it may be a bit too difficult to believe simply hearing it.”

“So leaving me without answers for however long you lug me around is the better option?”

Your regretted saying that as soon as the words left your lips. It had been too forceful, too angry and not in line at all with the role of captive you were meant to play. Him not doing much to you had you growing too comfortable, too bold, and Razor obviously noticed it too as he looked over to you with one of his eyebrows raised.

One look from him was all it took for every fear to return, and you went back to cowering in your seat, mumbling a soft “sorry.”

He hummed but said nothing further.

An uncomfortable silence was now in the air, interrupted only by the way Razor tapped his finger against the steering wheel.

You noticed something then: a piece of teal colored string that was wrapped around his pinky. One with some sort of design printed all over it, though it was too small and too far away from you to make out any details.

Your eyebrows furrowed. With the way he'd been touching you that first night, shouldn't you have noticed that before? Then again, how could anyone be paying attention to such fine details after what you'd been going through in that moment?

Ultimately, you took your attention off of that; whatever that was, it couldn't have mattered.

“Have you ever seen my face before today?” he asked.

It was late in the afternoon when he asked that, the third day since he had kidnapped you playing out without much talk aside from the orders he would give you whenever he stopped to refill the car's tank. Despite the talk you had the previous day, he didn't push further to make you speak to him. Maybe the last conversation felt just as strange for him as it had for you.

Evidently he was moving past that now as this new question hung in the air.

Your eyebrows furrowed, but instead of asking him why he was asking, you looked at him and tried to recall if there was any spot in your memory where you had seen his face before all of this. There was a reason he had asked, right? He wouldn't just ask such a thing randomly, right?

Maybe he'd been stalking you for a long time.

As hard as you tried, however, you came up blank in terms of any previous memories that involved your kidnapper, and after a few moments you slowly shook your head “no” in response.

For some reason, Razor actually seemed relieved at that, smiling as he said “that's good.”

“…. Why is that good?” you asked against your better judgment.

With that smile still on his face, Razor shook his head as he replied “I'd rather not go into it. I don't want your opinion of me to go any lower.”

…. What?

“Why would my opinion of you matter?” you asked.

Now Razor seemed confused, glancing over to you while asking “why wouldn't it matter?”

Why wouldn't it matter?

Was he fucking serious?

“Because I've been kidnapped?” you responded, “because I have no say in any of this? Because you were waiting in my hotel room for me, and then you tied me up on the bed? Because it's pretty amazing that I haven't died yet, and there's still a good chance that everything you've been saying to me is a lie so you can keep me calm before you gut me like a pig and dump me in a ditch somewhere.”

He wasn't smiling anymore, his expression now turned serious. You should've been worried about how it didn't seem like he was paying attention to the road.

You should also stop talking. The way you were going right now, you were liable to say something bad that would upset him.

But did it matter if you upset him if you really believed he was going to kill you?

“After you did all of that, why the fuck does my opinion of you matter?” you asked, “why do you care about how your kidnapping victim feels? If you weren't such an awful person, you wouldn't have kidnapped me in the first place. How the fuck can you sit there and be worried about if I like you or not?”

Razor pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Fuck

You averted your eyes as you started to shake.

He'll do it here. Shoot or strangle you and then dump you in the back. Take whatever it was he wanted from you and then throw you away like garbage. That would be the way your life would end, and you were powerless to stop it.

There was no chance of survival, and there was nothing you could do but prepare yourself for the inevitable.

He's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me

Razor placed his hand on top of yours.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you jerked your body away. The furthest you could go was the door, slamming your hands on the window as you ended up against it, pressing yourself against it as far as you could while tears began to fall. This was it. You shut your eyes, waiting for something bad to happen. Either metal being placed against your flesh or his hands wrapping around your neck. Maybe even a plastic bag placed over your head.

Why did he need to pick you?

Why couldn't he have left you alone?

You flinched again when you felt his hand on your shoulder. As this time there was nowhere else for you to go, his hand stayed.

Nothing more than that.

It took you a while to realize that he wasn't doing anything else. With however many minutes had passed with you hyperventilating and crying, he hadn't moved forward with any action other than the hand that he had placed on your shoulder.

After realizing that you were still alive when everything was telling you that you should be dead by now, you came to another realization: the way his hand was placed on your shoulder was almost as if he had done it as a way to comfort you.

His hand was warm where he touched you. Were it not for the horrible situation, it just might have made you feel a bit better.

By that point your cries had quieted down, and he took that as an opportunity to softly speak your name.

You glanced over at him through blurry vision.

He was frowning and his eyebrows were furrowed, but he didn't seem angry.

Razor actually looked sad.

“Are you really that scared of me?” he asked.

Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you nodded, and that only seemed to discourage him even more.

“Even after I told you that I'm not going to hurt you?”

“How can you expect me to trust anything you say?” was your response.

Razor stared at you, his hand still on you. His lips began to part as if to speak, but then he turned his head away from you, looking out through the windshield and at the highway before him.

“Can't argue with that,” you heard him mumble.

Then he removed his hand and returned his attention to driving the car, pulling back out onto the road and continuing on.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive.

It was late when Razor decided to stop for a bit, pulling off of the highway and renting a room from a small and rather seedy-looking motel. He'd left you in the car while he went to get a room, and while he still warned you not to try anything, his tone wasn't quite as harsh as it had been those times earlier. It was as though he was trying to be more gentle with you.

You didn't respond except to nod silently.

Now it felt like you were repeating the situation from that first night: the both of you on the bed with you feeling incredibly unsafe while trying and failing to get any sleep. The biggest difference this time was that the mattress of the motel was uncomfortable as shit, and you shifted every few minutes as you tried to find a spot that felt nicer.

At least you weren't sleeping in the car again, you told yourself.

He was still awake. Although you tried not to pay attention to him, it was hard to keep your eyes averted whenever you turned to face his direction. More than once the two of you made eye contact, and immediately after you would turn away. You would have stayed facing away from him if only the goddamn mattress wasn't so awful. And shouldn't he be asleep by now?

The fact that Razor was still awake and alert after three days of what appeared to be constant driving wasn't normal; who the hell could go that long without rest? How had the two of you not yet died in a car crash?

Maybe kidnappers were built different, you dryly thought to yourself.

“…. Do you want to watch anything?”

Razor's voice interrupted that thought train, and you noted that his tone was soft again when he asked, but you shook your head as you stared straight ahead at the wall next to you.

He hummed, and it sounded like he was disappointed.

But for some reason that wasn't the end of it.

“What can I do to make you trust me?��

….. He had some nerve to ask that, after everything. Was he aware of that? Probably. Despite that odd thing regarding your opinion of him, he was pretty self-aware on how wrong all of this was. You'd be justified in ignoring him, though. Razor would probably recognize and understand that, as well.

…..

Even if you were justified, what good would that do you?

After a moment, you remained where you were but pulled your arms upward, holding your bound wrists in the air for him to see.

A few seconds passed and nothing happened.

You figured that his lack of action meant “no”, and with a sigh, you began to pull them back down.

Razor grabbed them.

For a second, all you felt was panic at his sudden touch. You were reminded of that first night and how powerless you were.

It only lasted a moment, however, as Razor grabbed at the zip-tie and, with a slight tug, snapped the plastic off of you. Within a moment, your wrists were free.

… Were they supposed to break that easily?

“Is that better?” Razor asked.

“…. Yeah.”

He pulled away, his eyes remaining on you after. And now that he had done as you wanted, there was a certain level of expectation in the air, such as you would look at him and have a conversation. A proper one.

Continuing to ignore him now seemed like it would be a bad idea.

So you sat up, turning around on the bed so you were facing him. He seemed pleased by that, so that wasn't bad.

But fuck he was intimidating.

Surely after the past few days your fear of just looking at and speaking to him should have gone down somewhat, but no. Looking at him head on while he had his full attention on you had your palms beginning to sweat.

You grabbed the pillow you'd been resting on and wrapped your arms around it as you held it close. Maybe that was pathetic but it made you feel better.

“Ready to talk?” Razor asked.

“Depends on what you have to say,” you answered, “if you're going to tell me that you'll be knocking out my teeth before you feed me to pigs then I'd rather you not say anything.”

He let out an exasperated sigh.

“I told you that you're not going to die.”

The firmness was back in his tone, and you sensed that he was getting to the point of being aggravated.

You looked away as you held the pillow tighter.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “I'll believe you. But then….”

You inhaled before you spoke.

“I want to know why you're taking me. And I don't want an excuse about needing to wait until we get to wherever. I want answers now.”

“I've been pretty cooperative, so I at least deserve that much,” you added.

You glanced over and then away again, still nervous about his potential reaction. While he didn't seem to have anger issues, he more than likely had limits when he was pushed too far. If he wasn't going to kill you, he could keep you alive to experience worse.

A second quick glance revealed that he was staring at that string around his finger.

Then he made eye contact again as he asked “do you think you could listen to what I have to say with an open mind?”

“Uh, sure?”

Razor didn't seem as pleased about the uncertainty that made it's way into your voice, but after a moment's hesitation, he seemed to resolve himself as he spoke again.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You blinked.

“….. What do you mean?” you asked.

“That there are people in this world who are connected and are meant to be together?” he explained.

“Connected how?”

“By a force that's invisible to most,” said Razor, “like a red thread that you can only see if you have the ability to look.”

What

You blinked again, not sure of what to say.

“I… I guess I've never thought about it,” you began, “if I'm being honest, I'm really not sure.”

“I see.”

Again, there was disappointment in his tone.

Despite being worried to question him, you hesitantly asked “is…. Is there a reason why you asked?”

You had a bad idea as to why he'd mention such a thing. But you held onto hope that this tangent about soulmates was just his way of trying to make a joke so you felt better. Or maybe he was bringing up something this random just to fuck with you. Even that wouldn't be too bad.

He answered your question with a question of his own.

“What would you do if I said we were soulmates?” he asked.

“….”

…. Oh god.

This entire time you'd been convinced that Razor was going to kill you, no matter how much he said otherwise. And if not that, maybe that he would sell you off to someone. Now you were learning that all of this was happening because he was crazy. He'd seen you and was pushing some sort of fantasy onto you while justifying it with the notion of 'soulmates'. That had been all he needed to feel no guilt over tying you up and kidnapping you – because in his mind, what he was doing was right.

Of all the combinations he needed to be, why did he need to be both mentally unstable and unreasonably strong?

That was the other important thing: regardless of his sanity, he still posed an incredibly dangerous threat physically. As he continued to watch you while he waited for you to say something, you were aware that it would be a bad idea to flat-out say 'no'. Better to play along at least somewhat.

“…. I don't know,” you eventually told him.

Razor let out a soft sigh as he said “you think I'm insane, don't you?”

“N-no. Nothing like that,” you replied.

He hummed, and the way he hummed sounded as though he didn't believe you. Then he reached over and began to caress your cheek, making you cringe internally. While you wished you could get his hand off of you, you told yourself to deal with it for now.

“I wish I could show you proof – I really do,” Razor said, “but I'll get into some serious trouble if I use nen while I'm out here.”

That word…. He'd mentioned it before, though you still had no idea what it meant.

“So it needs to wait for the island?” you asked.

“Exactly.”

“…. Okay.”

Better to not make a fuss, you told yourself. Act like you're potentially open to the delusions he's spewing out. Delusional people prefer it when others agree with them, right?

Still, to find out that he had taken you because of such a reason….

The worst case scenario now was that you wouldn't get away and you'd be stuck playing out Razor's romance fantasy with him. At least you wouldn't be dead, right?

…..

It might be a good idea to get off of the soulmate subject, at least for now. And since he was mostly willing to be open and honest with you, now might not be a bad time to question something else he had said.

“Can I ask something else?”

The fact that you were changing subjects was obvious, but he seemed to accept it as he pulled his hand away as he answered “go ahead.”

“Why did you ask if I had seen you before?”

For some reason, that question was the one that had him frowning, and he tore his gaze away from you as he sighed.

“I don't know that you want to hear that answer,” he told you.

“Why?”

“It's not pleasant.”

“So?”

“… I'd rather we wait a while before we get to that discussion,” Razor said.

“I don't want to do that,” you replied.

He grimaced at your response, but oddly enough he didn't seem to be getting upset as he had been when you made that comment about him killing you. Maybe that was why you were spurred to push for him to speak.

“You said you want me to trust you, right? Why not answer?”

“Because you won't be happy with what I tell you.”

“Can it really be worse than what you've done to me so far?” you asked.

“If you can imagine the sort of crimes that get someone sent to death row, then yes.”

“…. Oh.”

Razor turned his head towards you, and you got a certain sense of “I told you so” when he looked over.

What he did couldn't have been any small crime – given how easy it had been to imagine him killing you, murder was the first thing you thought of. But even then, convicted killers didn't always get sentenced to death. There was that guy from Zaban who had literally torn his victims to pieces and while he had gotten over 900 years in prison, the fact that he hadn't been put to death was mind boggling to many.

So just what had Razor done to get himself on death row?

And why was literally everything about this only managing to become worse and worse?

“Why were you sent to death row?” you whispered after a few moments.

It wasn't much of a surprise when he took a bit to answer, frowning again as he stared off at the space in front of him. He didn't want you to know anything about this for some reason.

But eventually, he answered.

“I killed some people,” he said.

“How many?”

“You don't need to know.”

“Why did you kill them?”

“Because I could.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

That's horrible, you wanted to say. But you refrained. Not only because it would be pointing out the obvious, but it probably wouldn't do any good saying that to a man who admitted to something as awful as murder.

Because I could

The words echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but note how there had been a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. Almost as if he didn't care about the lives he had snuffed out for no reason.

A weight settled in your chest at that thought. Why it did remained unclear, but you found yourself wanting to make this better somehow.

“Do you feel bad about it?” you asked.

“What?”

His confusion was evident.

“Do you feel bad for killing those people?” you clarified, “if you could do it all over again, would you leave them alone?”

Why you now wanted so badly for him to agree with what you said was also unclear. Razor was a kidnapper and an admitted murderer – one who was bad enough that he earned himself a spot on death row. Why did it matter to you whether he was sorry for what he'd done?

But regardless, it seemed that was what your heart wanted.

Razor hadn't answered you, and in fact, he was looking at you as though you had grown three heads.

… That wasn't a good sign.

After a few moments where it seemed he was trying to pick his words carefully, he spoke up.

“I don't see much value in thinking about things I could've done differently in the past,” Razor answered.

Then he reached over to you.

While this time you didn't flinch or jerk away, you stiffened immediately, the pillow you held becoming squished between against you as you anticipated him putting his hands on you again.

Surprisingly, Razor paused when he saw your reaction, seeming thoughtful as he watched the way you sat, virtually petrified on the bed with a terrified look on your face.

Could he really blame you? He just told you a lot that warranted being worried about him. Even moreso than before.

Evidently he didn't, as he pulled his hand back and smiling at you again as he said “the important thing is what's happening now, and what our lives will be like from this point onward.”

“So let's not focus anymore on that,” he added.

Stop talking about it, was what he meant.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding in agreement.

Razor seemed pleased with that.

Not long after he told you to rest up, and within a few minutes the lights were off. Once more you needed to try and get some sleep while you lay next to your kidnapper, and the only saving grace was the fact that he was keeping his hands off of you this time. But while you tried to get some meager amount of sleep, you weren't able to focus much on his semblance of respecting your personal space. Instead, there was only one thought going through your head in that moment:

He wasn't sorry

Your wrists weren't tied up when you left the motel the next morning.

That was nice.

And while Razor wouldn't let you out of the car, he did stop at a restaurant to get you a to-go order of pancakes when you asked him to. Eating them in the moving car was awkward but you appreciated that he humored your request.

That was also nice, even if it had the potential of being your last meal before Razor took you to that island.

The knowledge soured the meal somewhat, but as much as you hated to admit it, you weren't so sure now that you would be escaping him. Razor hadn't given you any opportunity to take advantage of, and even with him giving you a bit more freedom of movement, he made a point to lock you inside the car during the time he was gone.

That made sense. After everything, you couldn't see him being foolish enough to leave you alone without having taken some step to secure you beforehand. It was actually pretty surprising that he was giving you the freedom he was after what he'd told you in that motel room.

Though maybe it wasn't too surprising when you considered the fact that he wanted you to like him. While the soulmate thing was complete bullshit, that was what Razor believed. So it made sense that he would want you to feel good about him since he planned on keeping you with him from now on.

That last part had never been said, but you got the sense that would be what happened if Razor got his way.

The rest of your life being spent playing into this man's delusions….

You would have shuddered at the thought if not for your fear that Razor would notice it.

“We'll be driving through the rest of the night,” he told you some time later, “and by tomorrow morning we'll have made it to our boat. From there it won't be too long of a journey to the island.”

You nodded along, though hearing what he said caused a pit to form in your stomach.

Once you were on that boat, the chances of escape were next to zero. It would be better to throw away any thoughts of escape if you were to reach that point.

To try and get away while on the water would be suicide.

He asked you questions every now and then, and though it wasn't as strong as it had been the previous night, you felt that pressure like you needed to answer him in exchange for the kindnesses he had shown you.

So you did what he wanted, and every time you glanced to him after, you saw a pleased look on his face.

You should've felt bad for him. Razor was the one who clearly had a lot of issues – things that, if he was a bit more mentally well, he probably wouldn't have done. Maybe. But then again, you were the one being dragged along with him against your will, so your sympathy could only go so far.

The sun was setting when Razor pulled over to another gas station to refill the tank. This was probably the last stop like this that you'd be making, if what Razor said earlier was correct.

The hand drier in the bathroom was still roaring when you left, only to be muted once the door shut behind you. As you had done a lot over the past few days, you immediately headed back towards the car as you knew your kidnapper wanted you to.

Only this time he wasn't watching you like a hawk.

Razor was by the car as the tank continued to fill, leaning against it as he stared out into the distance. Your gaze followed his, and you found that he seemed to be staring at a factory that sat in the distance, if the long, rectangular building accompanied by several smokestacks were any indication. Or perhaps he was looking beyond that, at the city that which was several miles away but still visible from where you stood. Or maybe it was just the sunset. It was at the time of day where the sky was at its prettiest.

Instead of entering the car once you returned, you went to his side and stood next to him, copying the way he leaned on it. He glanced at you, but said nothing about what you were doing. He only returned his gaze to the sight in front of him.

And then an odd expression morphed onto his face.

One that was almost wistful.

“Are you okay?” you asked cautiously.

Razor seemed surprised, looking back at you as he asked “why?”

“You look a little sad, I guess.”

“Do I?”

He looked back in the direction of the factory and the city that sat far off in the distance, and that wistful expression returned. As much as you wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, that question felt like it might be too intrusive and could potentially cause a bad reaction from him, particularly if it involved his past. He really didn't want you to know much in regard to that.

He let out a sigh.

“I guess I am, a little bit,” Razor said, “this is the last time I get to be out and about in the world like this. Once we get back to the island, I know I'll never leave again.”

“Never?” you repeated.

“Never,” he said, “the purpose of leaving the island every so often was to find you, and now that I have, there's no reason for me to come out here like this.”

He leaned his head back, now looking at the darkening sky above him as he added “I knew it was coming, but I didn't think it would bother me, knowing that this is the last time I can walk around like I'm free.”

“… Are you not?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“Death row convict.”

“Ah. Right.”

You went over the new information in your head.

“So you can't leave the island once you go back?” you asked, “is it a prison?”

He let out a short laugh.

“It's a prison for some of us, but even then it's nicer than any traditional prison you'll find,” he said.

“Us? There are others like you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but don't worry, you won't need to interact with them.”

You nodded, though your eyebrows furrowed as you thought on it a bit more.

“Will I be able to leave at all?” you asked.

“No.”

You sighed.

“Figures.”

Kicking at a bit of rubble by your foot, you said “so, the plan from here is to go to an island where we'll never leave, and then just….. Hang out there forever?”

“There's a bit more to it than that.”

“Hm.”

When Razor reached for you that time, you didn't flinch or shy away. And when his hand settled on your shoulder, you didn't give much reaction other than to look at him.

“It won't be that bad. The places you'll be able to go to are the nice ones,” he said.

“…. It's still really depressing that I can't ever leave once I get there.”

Razor smiled at you, and this time the sadness he felt was even more obvious.

“I know.”

Then he stood up straight, announcing “we should get going.”

You nodded, and you wordlessly walked around the car to get to the front passenger's seat.

When you were both in the car and after you'd buckled up, something else strange happened.

Razor reached out and pulled you towards him, your head resting on his chest while he kept you in something that resembled a hug.

“I do regret that you've gotten dragged into this,” he whispered against your hair, “I really mean that. While I can't do anything to stop it, I'll do my best to make it easier for you. I promise.”

In that moment, you had no insights as to what Razor was truly thinking or feeling, no clue that everything he'd just said was a genuine promise from him that he intended to keep. So you had no idea how his heart skipped a beat when he felt your hands reach up and hold onto his jacket. You had no idea of the relief that filled him when you moved in closer and reciprocated his hug.

“I trust you, Razor.”

As those words were whispered from your lips, you had no idea that, in that moment, Razor truly believed that he had your acceptance.

There was no one else on the docks when you got there in the morning, arriving early enough that the morning mist was still present as Razor navigated the car through various warehouses and massive walls of shipping containers. Was it unusual for such a place to be completely empty at this time of day? You weren't sure; you didn't know enough about this kind of place to be able to tell what was normal or not.

All the sight did was guarantee that no one other than Razor would witness the last moments you had on the mainland.

Eventually the car came to a stop not far from the edge. Just as he had said, there was a boat sitting in the water. It wasn't anything new as it looked quite battered, but presumably it would make the journey that Razor wanted it to.

Though it would be morbidly funny if, after all of his efforts, it were to sink in the middle of the trip.

“Let's go,” Razor told you.

He stepped out of the car, and after a few moments, you copied the action.

The smell of the ocean air hit you after you got out. You stood there, your hand gripping at the top of the door to keep yourself steady as you looked out at the water before you, and then the boat.

One last leg of the journey, and then you'd be stuck with Razor for good.

…..

No one would ever find you, probably. Your disappearance had more than likely been reported by now, but all efforts to find you would be focused on that hotel you'd been staying at and the surrounding area; who would ever think to look for you on the water? Even if someone remembered seeing your face and informed the authorities, how would they reach anything other than a dead end once they got to the shoreline? You didn't have the time to leave some sign of you behind, nor could you with Razor undoubtedly watching you as close as he had been. You couldn't do anything.

Once you stepped on that boat, you weren't getting away from him. To try and do so would be suicide, you reminded yourself.

Your grip on the door became harder and breathing became more difficult the longer you stared at the boat.

I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go

And again you asked why he needed to pick you.

Razor's voice saying your name forced you away from your thoughts, and you turned your head to see that he had your luggage slung over his shoulder and a concerned look on his face as he watched you. Your internal freak out wasn't as internal as you thought it was, then.

Swallowing a few times, you eventually asked “can I just….. Can I have a minute?”

“…. Alright.”

Then, to your utter surprise, Razor turned and began walking towards the boat.

Leaving you behind.

……

Was this some kind of test? Or maybe…. Did he think that since you were now at this point, he could relax a bit in watching you? Was he that confident you weren't going anywhere?

Razor continued making his way to the boat without a single glance back at you.

Your heart began to beat hard against your chest as you realized: you could run.

If you waited until he reached the boat and then made a break for it, you might just have a decent head start. If not to escape the area completely, then to find someplace to hide. Maybe find a phone and call for help. If it was a landline phone, they should be able to figure out your location without you needing to try and figure out where you were exactly.

If he caught you, it'd be bad for you, sure. But….

As he went further and further away, you were acutely aware that this was the first chance you had gotten to make an escape. The only chance you had. Were you really going to waste it by being too afraid of him?

….. No.

For once, you were going to take control of the situation.

And you were leaving.

You kept watch as Razor stepped off the dock and onto the boat, your things still in hand as he made his way to the cabin. Your hand was still gripping the door, your knuckles becoming pale from how hard you held onto it.

When he went inside. That was when you would run.

Once he stepped through the low doorway of the cabin, you did just that.

You pushed off from the door and you ran.

All you heard was your shoes on the dock and your own heartbeat in your ears as you propelled yourself forward. That felt a bit odd; you would have expected to hear him call out in anger on seeing you running. But at you reached the end and turned a corner past a line of containers, you didn't hear anything from him. There was no indication he even noticed that you had fled.

That was even better. While he would notice soon enough, every second you got with him being unaware would help in aiding your escape. You could do this. With every step forward you took with no sign of Razor coming after you, your confidence grew.

And then, after exiting the row of containers and reaching a warehouse, you saw a godsend:

A man.

He stood at the end of the structure, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you once you rounded the corner. With black hair sticking out of a odd blue cap and the rest of his blue and white clothing looking slightly worn, he looked raised an eyebrow as he took in your disheveled state.

You, on the other hand, felt relief upon seeing him. This was someone who could help. If you could explain what was happening, he could get you away and call the police. Then all of your problems would be over.

You could go home.

So you ran towards him, calling out “sir! Please, help me!”

He said nothing, but when you stumbled as you reached him, he took his hands out of his pockets so as to steady you, keeping his hands on your arms while you grabbed at the long blue scarf that hung from his neck.

“Please,” you said again, gulping as you did your best to maintain your composure, “I've been kidnapped. We need to get out of here and call the police.”

“Kidnapped? Who would kidnap you?” the man asked.

“He-he said that he's a death row convict,” you began, “he was waiting for me in my hotel room, and he tied me up and took me with him. Now he's trying to take me to some island and he says I can't ever come back.”

When the man didn't immediately respond, you got a bit more frantic as you cried “I swear, I'm not making this up! I've really been kidnapped, and I need the police before he tries to get me again! All of this is true!”

The logical part of your brain knew that getting hysterical wouldn't help you. But you weren't able to be completely logical in that moment. Now that you were so close to escape, you couldn't control yourself. You needed him to listen to what you were saying.

Finally, the man nodded.

“I believe you,” he said.

Relief rushed through you as you smiled, and you held onto his scarf tighter, unwilling to let go of this lifeline.

You spoke to the man again, asking if he had a phone, or better yet, if he had a car, and if he knew how far away the nearest police station was. He didn't really answer, though perhaps he couldn't with the way you were rambling in that moment. But you noticed when he looked past you and down the path that you'd just come from.

Your eyes followed his gaze and just like that your words died in your throat as your grip on the man's scarf became tighter, this time from fear.

Razor was there. Staring at you.

And for the first time, you saw true anger in him. Those dark eyes glared at you across the distance as he saw you in this unknown man's arms.

He's going to kill me

You looked back to the man, ready to beg for him to help again, for him to get you out of here before Razor murdered both you.

The man spoke before you could.

“Is this them, Razor?” he asked.

…. Huh?

He knew Razor's name?

How? You hadn't told this man what your kidnapper's name was. You were certain that you hadn't.

“Yeah,” your kidnapper answered.

Razor was talking to him? Not flying into a murderous rage and killing you both? The nonchalance of his reply was also a shock.

“Huh. I'm a little surprised,” the man said as he looked back to you.

“Surprised at what?” Razor asked. He started to walk forward at a moderate pace, taking his time while he kept his eyes fixed on you.

“That they got away from you,” the man answered.

You tried pulling away from him then. But the grip he had on your arms was ironclad, and no amount of wriggling would free you.

This man was far, far stronger than he looked.

“That was an error in judgment on my part,” Razor answered, coming to a stop as he had now reached the two of you by the warehouse.

“I'm sorry to have made you step in, Ging,” Razor added.

Ging?

The man who held you laughed.

“I don't mind,” Ging answered, “saves you the hassle of catching them again, right?”

“Right…..”

Razor's voice trailed off as he stared at you again, and with him being so much closer this time, you felt your entire body shudder while your heart beat pounded in your chest again, now being caused by pure, unadulterated fear.

He was so, so mad.

Ging then smiled at your kidnapper.

“Well, aside from this little mishap, everything else work out well?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Razor answered. His attention finally went back to Ging, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Glad to hear it.”

Ging was saying something else to him but you couldn't completely hear it. You still tried to slip your way out of Ging's fingers, but it was no use; he wasn't letting go unless he wanted to. Tears were welling up as you continued the futile effort. And somehow, the fact that he wasn't even acknowledging your attempt to get away only made it worse.

Why? Why did Ging need to be here to catch you? Why did you need to have such awful luck?

What was going to happen to you now?

You didn't want to find out, and so despite knowing that there was no hope of getting away now, you still tried.

If there was such a thing as divine intervention, you wanted it right now.

“Ah, Right. Before you go, I need to see that you haven't used your nen,” said Ging.

Instead of answering, Razor held up his hand, showing the teal bit of string that was still wrapped around his pinky.

“Just needed to check,” Ging told him, “we'd both be in trouble if that was broken.”

“I know.”

“Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way-”

Finally removing his hand from where he'd been gripping you, Ging unexpectedly turned you around and pushed you, causing you to stumble forward.

Right into Razor.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, and his hold on you was immediate and unforgiving, gripping you to the point that it hurt. Like with Ging, you wanted to struggle. You wanted to try and do everything in your power to break free of him.

But unlike with Ging, there was an air around Razor now that felt dangerous.

No, worse than that.

It truly felt like he was ready to kill someone.

And with that aura that surrounded you to the point that you felt like it might actually smother you to death, you couldn't bring yourself to fight against him. It was all you could do to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground.

Meanwhile, Ging and Razor were continuing their conversation.

“Think your replacement will be happy to see you back?” Ging asked.

“They'll probably just be relieved that they'll be done overseeing my duties,” Razor answered, “it usually takes them a few days after before they're at one hundred percent power again.”

“Well of course. The emission system was designed with specifically you in mind. There's no way anyone can run it as smoothly as you do.”

“Yeah.”

Despite his short answer, there was a hint of pride within Razor's voice, and the heavy air around you lifted somewhat.

Ging then looked back to you, smiling as he said “and now we've got this one, it'll be even better than before.”

And just like that, the air was suffocating again. It was like Razor had briefly forgotten the way he had been upset with you only to be shortly reminded of it.

Did Ging know that would happen?

…. Did he do it on purpose?

“Well, I'll let you get going then,” Ging then said, “I'm sure there's a lot you need to talk to them about.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and you're free to use your hatsu now if you need to.”

Razor nodded as he said “see you, Ging.”

Ging waved in response before he turned away.

Razor did the same, one hand remaining on your arm as he began to drag you behind him.

Except your legs didn't want to work, still feeling weak and like they would bend beneath you at any moment. You stumbled along for only a few steps before he bent down to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

He handled you roughly as he did so, the breath in your lungs pushing out with a sharp gasp before he continued along. Again he was holding you tightly after, as if with the intent to bruise, like he wanted to leave marks on your skin beneath your clothing. You frequently felt the way his fingers twitched, like he was fighting the urge to do something violent. You were crying now, but your throat was too clogged up to make any noise.

The position you were now in allowed you to watch Ging as he walked away from the two of you. His hands were in his pockets again and he walked at a relaxed pace.

If you weren't so terrified of Razor you might have screamed at the man who gave you back to your kidnapper. Maybe wish torture and death upon him.

But you didn't dare let any noise escape you now.

Why did this need to happen to you?

That thought repeated itself through the entire walk back to the boat while you quietly cried atop Razor's shoulder. Like that very first night, he had yet to say anything. And once you reached the small flight of stairs that led down inside the boat, he moved you off his shoulder.

He pushed you down the stairs just as quickly and you tumbled down into the darkness.

Despite the short fall, it still hurt when you landed, your arms taking the brunt of it. However, you barely let out a pained groan afterwards, instead quietly sitting upright before you curled in on yourself, nursing your bruised arms. It still felt like a bad idea to say anything. Even though Razor hadn't come down, you still felt that air around you. Something bad was going to happen shortly.

The sound of an engine coming to life and reverberating through the small vessel caught your attention, as did the way the boat began to move away from the docks and out onto the water.

Perhaps that meant he wouldn't come down. If he was too busy driving the boat, then you would probably be left here until he reached his destination. That wasn't bad. If he took some time away from you, then maybe he wouldn't be as upset when he saw you again.

Deciding on that being what was most likely to happen, you settled down on the floor, anticipating a long, lonely journey.

Someone's hand grabbed at you in the darkness.

Now you screamed.

On instinct, you tried to pull your arm away. Your attempt was unsuccessful, and the hand hauled you up to your feet.

Another hand grabbed at you, this time clamping down onto your leg. No matter how hard you tried to kick them away, you couldn't escape their grip.

Someone else grabbed your legs, wrapping their arms around one of your knees so you were unable to move. At that same time, someone else grabbed your free hand, and both of your arms were stretched out away from your body, making it even harder to struggle.

You still tried, though. Even when a body came up from behind you and hooked their elbows beneath your armpits, you did everything in your power to wiggle out of those hands that held onto you.

If only that had been enough.

Within moments you were completely immobilized, your body held down by the multitude of hands that had come from the darkness. The only thing you could do was scream, and the ability to do even that was taken away when a large palm slapped over your mouth. Tears continued to stream down your face.

The lights were suddenly turned on, forcing you to close your eyes while you heard Razor descend the small flight of stairs. It took a few moments of blearily opening your eyes before they adjusted to the light, but when they did, you found Razor standing in front of you.

But you weren't able to keep your focus on him for long, not when you saw who was holding you. Several men dressed in white and blue, their blue caps covering their eyes.

….. No, not men.

Things.

They weren't human. They couldn't be. Despite their humanoid shapes, the wide smiles that were filled with the dangerously sharp teeth wasn't something any human you knew of possessed. The pure white skin was also a sign that these weren't human. Not just from the sight alone, but from how that skin felt against your own. It felt artificial, and their touch was completely cold. And while you weren't able to see any of their eyes due to the blue caps adorned with numbers, every single one of them was looking right at you, smiling at you while they held you down.

Your breathing became harsher as you began to truly panic, your sobs muffled by the hand that kept you silent. You were quickly becoming lightheaded.

Somehow, the one that was covering your mouth realized this as they pulled their hand away, and you took in a few desperate gulps of air before you focused on Razor again.

His expression was just as grim as it had been when he was outside.

“Trust is an awful thing to break,” he said.

He stepped forward, and your body tensed as you tried to back away from him. Unsurprisingly, the grip those creatures had on you remained strong.

“It can take a long time to build up even in the best of circumstances, and then it can shatter completely with a single lie,” he continued.

“Or a single act.”

Razor stood before you now, towering over you with a dark look in his eyes.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he said to you, “after what we talked about, after what you said to me yesterday, I really thought that we had gotten somewhere. That even if you didn't entirely understand it, the soulmate connection was enough to keep you from running,” he continued.

“But you were lying through your teeth about everything, weren't you?”

His expression when he said that was too scary and you looked down, focusing instead on the creature that had wrapped it's arms around your knee.

You weren't allowed to look away for long as Razor grabbed you by your face and forced you to look up at him, being forced to maintain the uncomfortable eye contact.

Unable to keep yourself calm, your breathing came in harsh as you stared back at him.

And for some reason that seemed to have an effect, as the look on his face softened ever so slightly.

Razor sighed.

“Maybe…. Maybe this hurts a bit more than I expected because we're soulmates,” he thought aloud, “maybe I thought, even without the nen, that you would understand faster because the connection should have been enough.”

“I-I'm – I'm not-” you began.

He moved his hand up so it covered your mouth, cutting you off from whatever excuse he felt would fall from your mouth. Now that you were again unable to speak, you sniffled against his hand while the tears that ran down your cheek met with his fingers.

The boat was still moving, and had seemingly picked up a bit more speed as it continued forward through the water. It was going further and further away from the land, further and further out to the open ocean. You remembered what you had told yourself before:

You weren't getting away now.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you slumped over in the grip of those monsters, your body going limp. Continuing to resist now was thoroughly meaningless.

And some part of you said that it always had been.

It was still quiet; Razor said nothing more, you only continued to quietly cry and those creatures hadn't uttered a single word the entire time. The only things that kept it from being completely silent were the hum of the engine and the sound of the waves that hit the hull of the boat.

When he pulled his hand off of your mouth, you said nothing, continuing to stare up at him as you bit your lip.

Then Razor smiled.

“Ah well. Us being soulmates doesn't mean that we won't make some mistakes now and then, right?”

Despite the pleasant expression on his face, the mood in the room was anything but. Even when he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your face, the action lacked any sort of kindness. There was still a smothering aura that surrounded both him and you, though now it had significantly lessened.

But that didn't make him feel any less dangerous.

“We have several hours before we get to Greed Island – that's plenty of time for us to become acquainted properly. And I'm sure that by the end of it, we'll have both learned some things about each other.”

The smile on Razor's face had never looked more menacing.

“After all, if there's anyone who can forgive me about what I'm about to do, it'll be my soulmate, right?”