#i feel like hes struggling more than me atm in truth

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

prayers for my poor brother please

[slut4msby]

like you love me. oikawa tooru x reader

+ tags & warnings; slight angst, slight fluff

+ a/n; okok so i have had real bad writers block but heres this its alright but kinda rushed also i have been a little obsessed with the seijoh4 atm so expect more seijoh4 writings :3

"Tooru, do you really have to go?" you question, your gaze fixed on the floor. The thought of looking at your now ex-boyfriend pains you deeply. His presence stings, though you understand it wasn't his intention to hurt you. Both of you acknowledge that parting ways is for the best; he's pursuing his dream across the world, and you want nothing more than to be happy for him. Yet, the struggle to find that happiness within yourself is challenging.

"Y/N, please look at me, darling," Tooru pleads, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "You know how much this hurts me too."

You do know. There's no denying how Oikawa feels right now, the difficulty he is facing. Maybe even more than you. You're aware that he will carry the weight of your heartbreak on his shoulders, blaming himself, even though you understand it's not his fault. He's simply pursuing the path that brings him joy, the one you've always encouraged him to take. You recognize Oikawa's potential for greatness and don't want to stop him.

"Stop looking at me like that," you retort bitterly, avoiding eye contact.

"Like what?" Oikawa inquires.

"Like you love me, Tooru."

The truth stings.

"But I do love you, N/N-chan."

"I don't want you to love me, Tooru. I want you to forget about me entirely. I don't want to be a lingering memory for you. All I'll do is hold you back. Tooru, I know you can achieve so much without me," you declare, your words accompanied by falling tears.

"Y/N," Tooru murmurs, his voice filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

“Bye Tooru.”

That was the last time you had spoken or even seen Tooru in almost ten years. You couldn’t deny you often thought of him. He was the best lover you have ever had. When you heard the news that Oikawa had started playing for the Argentina team, you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at all the things he could achieve without you, like you never happened. That's what you thought at least. However, it was the complete opposite. Tooru could only ever think of you. No matter how many women he dated or slept with he could only ever think of you.

He missed you.

He missed you like crazy, but he knew he couldn’t reach out. In the last five minutes he saw you, you practically told him you want nothing to do with him. Little did he realise that you eagerly waited for any form of contact from him. As time passed, regret overcame you for those words spoken to Tooru that night, playing like a broken record on your mind.

As you walked down the stadium halls, trailing behind Atsumu who was rambling about some nonsense story in preparation for the Japan vs. Argentina match. You walk past the Argentinian team’s locker room. You pause for a moment, as you catch yourself staring blankly at the door. The intensity of your gaze prompted Atsumu to halt mid-story, looking at you with concern.

“You good, N/N?” he asked

You nod, “yeah, let’s just keep going, Atsumu.”

You and Atsumu keep walking down the stadium halls. However, as you both move forward, you can’t shake off the lingering thoughts of the Argentinian team’s locker room and the memories associated with Tooru. 

As you continue navigating the maze of corridors, you spot a familiar figure walking towards you in conversation with another large muscular man. Your heart skips a beat when you realise it’s Tooru Oikawa. Time seems to freeze as you lock eyes with him.

Atsumu notices your change in attitude and follows your guide. His eyes widened in surprise, staring at the renowned setter. “Well if it ain’t Oikawa…” Atsumu mutters under his breath.

Oikawa doesn’t even acknowledge Atsumu as he takes a step forward towards you. “Y/N,” he says, his voice tainted with a mixture of surprise and longing.

You swallow hard, caught between the rush of emotions and the memories flooding back. “Tooru,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper. The air becomes charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. “We were just getting on our way right, Atsumu?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu responded giving 

“Y/N-san, please just give me a minute.” Oikawa pleads.

“Sorry Tooru, we have somewhere to be…” He could tell you wanted to stay, to see him. He could see it in your face, he heard it in the way you spoke. You were still as beautiful as he remembered. He was still as in love with you as his 18 year old self was. Most people his age were having kids, getting married, and settling down. However, Oikawa couldn’t. He was still in love with his high school sweetheart, the woman who didn’t love him back, or so he thought.

The match progresses with both teams fiercely competing on the court. Your attention is divided between the game and the unresolved emotions stirred up by Oikawa's unexpected presence. As you sit on the bench, feverishly writing in your notebook just like you used to during his high school matches, memories flood back, and your heart feels a mix of nostalgia and anxiety.

Meanwhile, Oikawa can't help but steal glances at you from the court. The years have passed, but the feelings are still alive. Next to you sits his best friend, Hajime Iwaizumi, who senses the tension in the air and knows he needs to address the unresolved issues between you and Oikawa.

As the match reaches its climax, and the crowd roars with excitement, Hajime approaches you discreetly. "Hey, Y/N," he says, turning to you.

"What's up?" you ask, looking up from your notebook.

"Can you meet me outside the physio room after the match?" he requests. "I just need help with something."

"Of course, Hajime," you respond, offering a reassuring smile.

The match concludes, leaving the stadium buzzing with energy. You make your way to the agreed-upon meeting spot outside the physio room. As you approach, you don’t find Hajime standing there, rather Oikawa Tooru.

“Oh sorry, I was looking for Iwaizumi-san…” You mutter. Your gaze falling to the floor similar to the last conversation the two of you held.

“Oh uhm, me too…” Oikawa says nervously, an arm awkwardly scratching his neck. 

“You played well, Oikawa-san.” You plainly state, attempting to ease the discomfort.

"Oikawa-san?" he questions, a hint of hurt in his expression. The formality stings, a stark contrast to the intimacy you once shared.

"I just thought..." you begin, hesitating for a moment. "Things have changed, Tooru. We both have."

“I still love you Y/N-” Tooru blurts out. Immediately turning red. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I-I didn’t mean to say that.”

Silence.

“I know you said you didn’t want me to love you, and you wanted me to forget and you and tha-” 

Tooru’s speech was cut off by your lips meeting his. The unexpected moment left him confused, but within seconds, the initial confusion turned into a reciprocated kiss. The kiss was filled with a range of emotions. The kiss was like an unspoken language that conveyed the complexity of your shared history and the unresolved feelings lingering between you.

“I love you too, Tooru. And I regret every one of those words that came out of my mouth. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, Tooru. no matter who I tried to replace you with, no one was you, Tooru.”

“Stop looking at me like that.” He giggled.

“Like what, I’m being sincere here!”

“Like you love me, darling~.” He teased as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Touché, Tooru. Touché.”

©slut4msby.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi, idk if you write this kind of thing but would you mind writing something with either carmy berzatto or frank castle and a recovering addict! gf?

she relapses and he's angry but he loves her so he's gentle. he doesn't know what to do.

i’m not doing so well atm and i’m really struggling to stay clean, your writing and just fics in general really help take me out of my own head.

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Author's Note - hi sweet anon. i'm sorry to hear you're not doing so well at the moment. i lost a good friend of mine to addiction, and i know how hard it can be. just know that you're never alone - there's always someone you can talk to. you're doing amazing, and I'm wishing you all the best. you've got this.

i got this request and knew i had to write it, as it's something very close to my heart. i've tried to handle it as sensitively as possible, without going into too much explicit detail. i've included some resources at the bottom of this post such as websites and hotlines if you feel like you need some support. so much love to anyone who's struggling. i see you, and i admire you. you're always stronger than you think x

Pairing - Frank Castle x Recovering Addict Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - addiction. mentions of relapse. talk of sobriety and being clean. cursing. please do not read if this will be triggering to you in any way.

Word Count - 1.7k

Masterlist. Requests.

Frank knows something is wrong the minute he walks through the door.

Usually, he yells honey, I'm home! and is greeted by you jumping into his arms, covering his face in kisses.

Today, you're nowhere to be found.

He's storming through your house, yelling your name at the top of his lungs. A thousand scenarios are running through his head, all of them horrifically tragic. He's terrified.

He gets to the closed bathroom door and yells your name again.

"Sweetheart, you in there?"

You don't reply, but he hears you sniffle.

"Shit, baby, are you cryin'? Open the door. Whatever it is, I'll fix it, okay?"

"You can't," you sob. "Not this time."

Frank has never heard you this upset, and he's starting to panic.

"Open the door, honey. Please. Just open the door and we'll work somethin' out."

"You don't want me to," you cry. "You're going to hate me."

"Hate you? I could never hate you. I love you, you know that. Open the door. Please."

You sniffle again, but make no attempt to move.

"Alright. I'm about to break it down. Move back, so I can kick it in."

"Don't you dare," you threaten. "This door was expensive."

"Then open it."

You're not sure if it's his words, or the way he sounds exhausted, but you decide to give him some respite. You stand up and turn the lock, before slumping back down into your spot on the floor.

Frank takes a good look at you, and his heart shatters.

Your cheeks are tracked with mascara stained tears. You're wearing nothing but a tank top and some underwear. Your hair looks like you've been running your fingers through it repeatedly. Your lips are bitten and raw. You look tired.

"Baby," he whispers. "What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lie.

"You're not fine. You're clearly not fuckin' fine. We don't lie to each other, do we?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your chin to look at him where he's standing.

"Do we?"

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. "We don't lie to each other."

"That's right," he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "Now please, honey. What happened?"

Silence. More sniffles.

"If I tell you, you're going to hate me. You're going to leave me and you're going to hate me."

"I don't think there's anythin' in the world that could make me hate you," he reassures.

Frank looks at you intently, proving you have his full attention. He cups your cheek gently, and waits for you to tell him the truth. Eventually, you speak.

"I relapsed," you whisper.

Frank's whole body goes rigid, and he freezes. He's still looking at you, but it's different now.

"Frank," you say gently. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

Your blood runs cold. He sounds... distant. Detached. He sounds angry.

"Please don't hate me. I told you you'd hate me. God, I knew this would happen."

There are fresh, warm tears streaming down your face, dripping onto your shirt. Frank still remains stoic, removing his hand from your cheek.

"I don't hate you," he says eventually. "But I need you to give me a minute."

With that, he rises to his feet and leaves. You're left on the bathroom floor, sobbing and alone.

 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

Frank sits on the edge of your bed, trying his best to take deep breaths.

Your addiction isn't a secret. You've talked about it time and time again, telling Frank all of the details that you swore to yourself you'd never tell anyone. You met him, and felt instantly safe. He's the perfect confidant - he listens, he understands. He's compassionate, he's gentle, he's empathetic. You've opened up again and again, and Frank has never judged you once. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him.

You've been clean since you met him. A naive part of him hoped that he'd never have to see you otherwise. He knows that sobriety is a journey, he knows that it isn't linear. But he hasn't been through it. There's only so much he really understands. He tries, though. God, he tries.

He's sitting in your shared bedroom, wondering why he left you in the bathroom by yourself. Is it because he can't bear to see you upset? Is it because he can't handle it like he thought he could?

He realises, suddenly, that it's because he simply doesn't know what to do. He's never been in this situation before, and he doesn't know which course of action to take. Does he sit and cry with you? Does he yell at you to never do it again? Does he tell you he still loves you, no matter what? He decides, unsure, to try a mix of all three.

Frank strides back into the bathroom and sees you still in the spot he left you. You're still crying, and it lodges a lump in his throat. He fights back his own tears, and sits down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. We're okay. It's all okay."

"It's not okay, Frank," you sob. "I'm so mad."

"At me? I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I just panicked and -"

"No, no. At myself."

Frank soothingly strokes your hair, rocking you gently. You relax into his hold, tears subsiding slightly.

"I've worked so hard on being clean. It's a choice, every single day. Why did I choose wrong today? I've ruined everything. I've fucked up all of my hard work, all of my progress."

"You know," he begins. "There's no end goal here. It's a constant journey. And on any journey, there's gonna be ups and downs."

You try to protest, but he cuts you off.

"One bad day doesn't determine the rest of the week. Or the rest of the month. Or the year. Okay?"

You nod your head, and he kisses your temple.

"There's always tomorrow, baby. There's always tomorrow. We can start again. Today doesn't undo everything. It just changes your course a little."

"Frank Castle. A poet. Who knew?" you tease. He laughs, and the vibrations buzz through you both.

"Only for you, honey."

You both sit on the floor for what feels like hours, content to just hold each other. Frank is wondering what caused the events of the day, what made you feel like you had no other option, where you even got a hold of everything. But he doesn't ask. He knows you'll talk about it tomorrow. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, and tries to match his racing heart to the beat of yours.

"Promise me that if you feel like this again, you'll tell me. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doin'. We're in this together."

"I promise," you whisper.

"There's always tomorrow, honey," he murmurs into your hair.

"There's always tomorrow," you echo.

He's right. There's always tomorrow.

Al-Anon / Ala-Teen Hotline - 800-356-9996

SAMHSA Hotline - 1-800-662-4357

DrugFree Hotline - 855-378-4373

Alcoholics Anonymous (UK) - +44-800-9177-650

DAN 24/7 (England&Wales) - +44-808-8082-234

Narcotics Anonymous (UK) - +44-300-999-1212

MIND Website (lots of useful UK resources here)

SAMHSA Website (USA)

these are just a select few. there are hundreds, if not thousands, of websites, hotlines and places to turn for support if you're struggling. asking for help might be the hardest thing you'll ever do. but it's so worth it. promise x

[laura1633]

I love your two latest bottom charles you've just posted so much. It brightens up my day unexpectedly from the disastrous race yesterday. If you'd like to share more about bottom charles (he's so cute i'm gonna melt) please don't hesitate! I'll be the one who always read and cheer for you ❤️ but if you don't have more things to share atm it's just fine. I just wanna say thank you to you 🥹

Aww thank you so much anon, that is lovely ♥️ I have some bottom Charles stories planned that will be written soon. For now I have written a very short little drabble below of sleepy Charles.

“What is wrong?” Max looks away from the television and towards Charles as he hears the Monegasque shuffling into the room. 

“You weren’t in bed” Charles pouts and rubs at his eyes. It’s still early, far earlier than Max would normally get up but his phone had gone off and he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He actually thought he was doing Charles a favour by leaving him alone to sleep, if he hadn’t have gotten up out of bed he would have struggled to keep his hands to himself. Especially when Charles was naked and all tangled up in the sheets looking adorable.

“Sorry baby” Max smiles as he sees how tired Charles still is, the Monegasque’s eyes are barely open and he’s trying to stretch his muscles out but his limbs don’t seem to be very coordinated, “Did you need me?”

“Yes” Charles breathes out as he clambers on to Max’s lap and immediately grinds down against the Dutchman’s cock, “I need more sleep but …” Charles trails off and doesn’t bother fully verbalising what he wants and in truth Max doesn’t need him to. The Dutch driver awkwardly tries to shimmy out his boxers whilst Charles clings hold of him tightly 

“I need to open you up first though” Max strokes his hand up and down Charles’ spine slowly. 

“Already did it” Charles smiles lazily, “You can check” 

Max’s hand wanders down to Charles' ass and he realises Charles definitely wasn’t lying. He’s covered in lubricant, clearly not concerned with getting a little messy in his haste to get himself all nice and prepared. 

“You did good” Max hums as he circles around Charles’ rim and feels the way the muscles have loosened off a little, just enough for him to feel the gape. It probably didn't take much work seen as they only had sex a few hours ago, “You want to get me ready too?”

Charles mumbles something incomprehensible in French but before Max can ask him to repeat himself Charles is reaching out and stroking the Dutchman’s cock to hardness. 

“Thank you” Max smiles and presses a kiss against Charles’ nose. The Monegasque can be quite feisty a lot of the time but when he’s sleepy he is content to do what Max asks and keens softly whenever the Dutchman praises him. 

“Come on then” Max grips one hand around Charles’ waist and the other hand around his own cock as he lines himself up. Charles wiggles his way down slowly, moaning happily as he does so until his ass is flush against Max’s thighs.

“Is that better baby? Is that what you needed to feel good?” Max soothes as he takes in the sight of Charles' rosy red cheeks and fluttering eyes.

“Yes” Charles gives a lopsided smile and and then breathes out a happy sigh as he settles down on Max’s cock and rests against the Dutchman’s body, “Thank you”

“You get some more rest then” Max coos as he grips hold of Charles’ hips and draws tiny little circles against the Monegasque’s skin with his thumbs. The nice rhythmic movement seems to settle Charles down quickly. 

Max has no idea how long Charles will be able to keep still. Sometimes the Monegasque won’t last more than a few minutes before he is overcome with the need to start rocking back and forth or bouncing up and down. Sometimes he shows more restraint, gets a little nap in whilst Max remains buried inside him. Today looks like a sleepy day so Max lowers the volume on the television and sits back and relaxes as Charles falls asleep with his boyfriend’s cock pushed up inside him keeping him nice and full.  

[cazzyf1]

Hi, I love your blog and the depth of your research on Niki and Mike Hawthorn :) if you can say more about your dissertation without doxxing yourself, I would be fascinated to hear more about it, but either way wishing you so much luck with the project!

Thank you so much!!

I've been researching Mike for roughly a year and writing my dissertation for the last few months. It's due in around a month, so into the final preparations now!

Once it's all graded I'm going to post about it online. I do have a f1 blog (though there is only one post on there atm) that I'll probably upload it to but I'll likely upload it straight on here as well for people to read.

I study creative & professional writing; therefore, I had to use my skill sets for both, so I've written my dissertation about Mike as if you were reading a story, fictionalising the truth in a sense but still keeping it as accurate as possible. I have what I consider a short word count, so I've had to be limiting on what I include (which has been a struggle because there is so much I wanted to include), but the focus is mainly on the Le Mans 55' and Mike's reaction to it and then a focus on his friendship with Peter Collins and the 58 season. I want to show in my dissertation the human side of Mike that I think many people forget about. He struggled a lot and had a rather tragic life.

I'm glad you are interested in it! It makes me happy to see. And if anyone has any questions about Mike, or Niki, or even me, then feel free to ask away, as I am more than happy to share any information I know ❤️

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Thought I’d do another one! Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans? - for the Roycegaryen kids (whichever one(s) you want!)

a;lksdjf you're so sweet for sending another, thank you!

No one has kids atm, but they all wind up having kids by the time we reach the end of season 1. None of the kids are super fleshed out atm, & Robella may wind up having more depending on how the vibe of their relationship goes, because I'm gonna be real: if you'd told me when I published chapter one 11 months that I'd be this far into the fic by now I would have thought you were nuts. I simply have made more progress than I thought I would have & so I never really made working on the kids a priority. I still have time to flesh them out (especially since I'm sure a, like, planned hiatus will be coming in a couple chapters), but things are a wee bit lackluster on detail front. There's enough that I think I can sufficiently answer this, though!

Rhaella/Robella: At the moment, I'm planning on three kids. Ella would, 100%, without a doubt, kill for her son & daughters. She'd set villages on fire for them. So long as she has a say, they are simply never going to struggle or know hardships or get let down by her or anyone else in their lives. How Griffith, Aerea, & Adrienne see the adults in their lives (especially her, because she's aware of her shortcomings) is going to be the undeniable truth because she is never going to lie or manipulate them or do anything to make the way they see her as some sort of illusion that will be shattered one day. If anyone asks she doesn't have a favorite & she loves all of them equally, & she for sure cares for all of them & makes sure that they all have special memories with her, but Adrienne is her favorite. Like, sorry, but she named this little girl after her childhood OC, there is no recovering from having done that.

Yorick/Yoreen: Even if his sister winds up having more than my three planned on kids, she's not having as many as Yorick. This man said "I love MILFS & also titties" then knocked his wife up 6 times. He loves his kids, he would die for them if it would protect them & he would kill for them if they asked, but he's very much got his "I was 'raised' by Daemon Targaryen during his Rhea Royce era" that kind of sees him being an overly soft touch with his kids. Like, he does discipline them & have expectations, but he's more a "verbally express that I am disappointed & then give you lots of affection after I have told you to apologize" type of parent. He gets more stern as he gets more kids under his belt & just generally gets more sure of himself, but he's remains very conscious of not doing to his brood what was done to him. Yorick, I don't think, has a favorite. He, like, actually does have an equal-across-the-board level of love for his kids, but his oldest daughter definitely has him as her favorite parent. Like, Rhea is a daddy's girl & there's nothing Yorick can do about it, lmao

Aemon/[redacted ship name, but it's another OC]: He isn't getting married till the gap between episodes 7 & 8, so he has the least amount of details there. Where I stand right now, he only has one kid by the end of season 1 & any others are born after The Dance (because, like, him & his wife are still pretty young. He's only 3 years older than Aegon), & I keep waffling on which "I have fucked up attachments" name he gives his son. Regardless, that baby is literally only, like, one-to-two years old & there's not really any dynamics at play there. Because actual toddler. Also, I feel like Aemon is the kind of person who, if something is cute enough, it makes him a little unhinged. Like, he would say he wants to eat his son & throw things across the room because he doesn't now how to handle how cute he thinks babies are. He did cry the first time he held Yorick/Gerold the Younger [name I settle on pending].

[syncogon]

misc thoughts fresh off finishing yumi and the nightmare painter: 

* i should’ve taken my time reading this ahaha. books definitely hit different when savored and on larger screen/pages

- there were some tropes i didn’t like here, like painter pretending to yumi to be all cooler and more heroic than he actually was = cringe when it comes falling down. at least that part was relatively short. but like digging a hole with your lies ughhhhhhh hate that hate misunderstandings hate people not believing you when you tell the truth 

- was not convinced to care about the side characters. they didn’t really get any development. i wasn’t even sold on the old friend group being friends with each other - their banter wasn’t that good, and I’m sensitive to this kinda thing atm since I’m in my own struggle of writing convincing and interesting friend group interactions - nor were they written particularly compellingly as individuals. akane was kind but that was about it. i love the sleepless as a concept and masaka was great but she really came out of nowhere to help. and liyun could have used more development 

- speaking of masaka this is a hot take as a cosmere fan but i think there’s a point where the cosmere references get too much and detract from the story at hand. felt that a bit with lost metal, at times with tress, and definitely here. 

- hoid’s narration - i thought it fine in tress, suited the fairytale storytelling tone, but his comments felt kind of more annoying and distracting and out of place in this one. at least he had an actual role in tress...

+ the twist was very cool, big fan, i was totally misled, but 

- the reveal was... the fact that what happened was so complicated that it needed SUCH a big exposition dump, i was not a fan. like im grateful to hoid that he knew i was confused. but it shouldn’t have been so confusing, there had to have been a better and more elegant way to present what happened 

- and im still a little confused about what we saw of yumi’s world was real 

- also like who were the actual aliens they encountered lmao we’re just moving right along

+ so i was ready to throw hands when i saw “epilogue”. and then “another epilogue” ahaha. to be fair that sad ending was still a good ending itself but god i would’ve been so upset hahaha

+ the ending made me feel things. almost eked out some tears. such a good ending overall.

+ the art ahhhhhhhhh so pretty. def my fav artist / artwork of the four (i’m just a big fan of this kind of aesthetic. traditional korea + futuristic japan) 

- though i was a little disappointed with the cover. not sure why. the pure outlines don’t stand out very well and the text font/color... idk... 

* for some reason i thought that the colors being cyan and magenta meant that there’d be significance in the missing third color yellow or lime or smth. i thought there was a WoB or smth. oh well 

* are maipon sticks actually any different from chopsticks. why not just also call them chopsticks. 

- i think the preview chapters gave me expectation that there’d be a bit more with their respective magics and worldbuilding which were so cool and i wish we saw more of that, b/c that kind of stuff interests me more. top tier aesthetics for these worlds. but i guess this was always supposed to be more “inward” and more focused on the romance... 

- i think i didn’t find yumi or painter super likable on a personal / personality level either. this is kind of a me thing though. i know they’re supposed to be Like That with their backgrounds, histories etc. i suspect i’d appreciate them more on reread.

- oh yeah and i want to know more about the other yoki hijo too! 

+ this is a pretty focused book even if i do want to know more. i can respect that. like how this was a lifeswap not a bodyswap, allows for keeping the focus on the story he wants to tell 

+ will admit it was super funny that painter was seen as yumi but yumi was still just seen as herself 

+ was gonna cry at the introduction of the Machine to replace Art. but then it was like, maybe it’s worth it if it saves any other girls from suffering the - abuse, basically - that yumi had to go through? but in the end the Machine is unequivocally the evil here 

+ i do love yumi Stacking Things whenever stressed ahaha

this sounds like a lot of negative points but those are more interesting to talk about and those are what come to mind quickly esp since i’m just pulling thoughts out very quickly and haphazardly here. to some extent the good parts go without saying and id appreciate them more on (a slower) reread and tbh i might make a follow up post as i think more on this. i think i was just a little disappointed bc i came in with really high expectations... ah well. still a good book overall, and i want to give it a reread to better understand and catch some things. i think my current ranking is tress > yumi > frugal 

but im gonna hit post for now to forcibly stop myself from adding more

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: July 10th

I really let asks get away from me lately. I was super focused on working on that Patreon Moment. With that done I can finally think about doing other things, so here’s a new collection of answers!

Thank you for sending in questions everyone ^^.

For the new Patreon moment, will you be able to reference it in step 4? Or just like a tiny nod to it if you pick certain choices?

There won’t be. I’m sorry if you were hoping for that! The Patreon moment is meant to be entirely optional, it’s not something that gets you extra content in the main game.

Is the new CG artist the main one now? :0 I’ve noticed theres been a difference in the art style recently. Is the old CG artist still going to make art for the game? :0

The original artist still makes CGs for the game sometimes, but he mainly focuses on character sprites.

Are you going to put the NSFW our life moment on a website other than patreon? I would love to get it but I can't use patreon atm.

I don’t know. I'm afraid we can't release the Patreon Moment on a normal game storefront because we can't mix 18+ content with our family friendly game. If there's some other place similar to Patreon where it's not the normal type of full-scale public content releases we'd consider using that, but I’m not sure if there is another site that’s better than Patreon in that regard. I'm sorry.

Out of curiosity, in all of your games so far, which characters in each were the most fun to write? They obviously don't have to be your favorite characters!

Buffalo Seer in AFA, really everyone in XOD/XOBD is pretty equally entertaining to write, The Guide in LoV, and Cove in OL!

idk if you accept "personal" questions, but is there anything you've been watching/ listening to lately

Mostly, I’ve been watching/listening to Authortube videos as of late! It’s people who talk generally about the process of how books become traditionally published and/or share their own experience as they attempt to be published. I don’t have an interest in writing normal text based books, but it’s really interesting to hear about that world. I’m listening to a video about royalties right now as I answer these asks.

Will one of the desserts we get to pick be fudge? That'd be such a cute reference! 

Haha, yeah, it should. Unless I completely blank on it and forget when trying to include the various referential food options.

I don't know if this has been asked previously but what would be the approximate heights for the presets MC can choose from Step 2 ~ 4? Are there any measurement you had in mind? Sorry if I didn't make myself clear kk I've been struggling with my English lately 💀 

I don’t know, ahah. I didn’t have any numbers in mind for that. So it’s whatever you imagine it is!

I noticed a bug with the Patreon moment when it comes to what your character wears. When Jamie and Cove are kissing while my character only had dresses selected, I had both the option to remove the dress or to remove the shirt... Picking one of the options to interact with Cove, after he removed his shirt, it had Jamie remove their shirt followed by ther pants despite only having dresses picked. 

Thank you for reporting ^^

I keep refreshing steam to see when the new doc for xobd will be released. I noticed you haven't posted anything about it in quite some time. Would it be possible to ask about a timeline/potential date? (If it's even this year—) I know you and your team are probably working super hard, I'm just super curious! ~Thank you!~ 

There are more stories done, I just haven’t gotten around to publicly releasing them. Hopefully I will have a chance to spend the time on that sooner rather than later!

hello!! i’m not sure if it’s an update but i’ve just replayed our life and at the end i can’t propose to cove anymore? :(( i’ve actually tried playing twice but the options are not there anymore, did you guys remove the options? i’m sorry if you’ve answered this before!! thank you and have a good one :) 

I’m afraid things haven’t been changed or removed, so I think you might’ve accidentally picked the wrong things somewhere along the way and locked yourself out of being able to propose by mistake. Sometimes you meant to say you want to get married but instead you mis-click and have it so the MC isn’t thinking about marriage or something. All I can suggest is starting from the beginning of Step 3 and making sure to follow the steps listed in the FAQ. I’m sorry for that.

Did yall remove some of the options for when youre making out with Cove in the charity moment? I could've sworn you could grab his bonkadonk and its not there anymore 

This is the same situation as the above. We didn’t remove things and you’re not wrong that there are sometimes those options. But there are various choices you have to make to get those options and it sounds like you accidentally missed something. If your relationship isn’t long-term, you can’t do it for example.

HI IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY GET THE STEP 3 DLC 

Thank you for getting it!

Is Shiloh super totally straight bc I’m very gay and a huge Shiloh fan, would my man make an exception?😩

Sadly, he is one of our super straight characters. I’m sorry.

Hi, I have a very dumb question. In Step 2 does Cove not wanna share his drink with us at the mall (or rather why he stops drinking it) because it's an indirect kiss? Or is it like ...weird to him to share? Because if I remember right he eats off our spoon in the birthday scene right? 

Yeah, he’s awkward about it because he likes the MC and it feels very personal to share a straw with his crush.

Hi! If you don't mind me asking, who is the artist for OL2? Their style is so pretty! 

Thank you for saying so! This is her Twitter- https://twitter.com/redridingheart

Do Beginnings & Always and Now & Forever exist in the same universe? 

Yep! XOXO Droplets also exists in the same universe. It’s one big GB Patch world, haha.

Do Pran's parents regret the way they raised him? Do they feel ashamed of it?

No. They’re the type of people best cut out because they’re not gonna change. Which is why Pran does go very limited contact when he’s an adult.

Hi! I just wrapped up my second playthrough of Our Life, and I absolutely adore it, but I had a question. I went to the gallery and found I was missing 2 CGS (specifically Step 1-3 and 2-3) and I had no clue where they would've shown up. Which moments are those found in? 

You get it by telling Cove about his dad offering you money to be his friend in Step 1 and Step 2. You can’t get both in one playthrough, since you can only tell Cove the truth once. I’m really glad you liked it!

Hi hi! Please, how tall is Baxter and Derek? Love the game so much and I can't wait to see more! 

I don’t know, aha. I think Baxter was around 5′10 and Derek was like 5′8/5′9, maybe. I really am not one who has specific heights for things in mind.

is adult cove a bottom, top, or switch? 

A switch, though would choose the top if he had to pick.

I was wondering if there is a way to transfer save data? Even if through the game files. I wanted to be able to transfer my save data from my desktop over to my laptop so that I could continue playing right where I left off from but I'm not entirely sure how to go about that. 

If you save the save folder/persistent data of the game from your desktop and put it into the game folder on your other device, that could work.

Hi! Is it possible for us to know the date when our life: now and forever comes out on steam? Sorry if you've mentioned it before but I haven't seen it and I'm looking foward to that happening and just wanted to know :) 

It’s gonna be a long time, I’m afraid. There’s no estimate right now.

I started playing Our Life with my sister a while ago, and I think you guys should know that we discovered your secret. >:)

L from death note and Cove are clearly the same person, and this whole game is just an origin story!!

I’ve never seen that show so I’m sorry to say I don’t understand the connection/reference you’re trying to make. I’m pretty out of the loop when it comes to media. I don’t watch movies or TV.

Will OL2 have options for disabled MCs?

I understand if it's too complicated, just curious

Unfortunately, it’s not really something we have a plan for. We couldn’t finish the game if we tried to include every disability and have it be meaningful. It’d just be too much content to create. But if we decide to only include a few, how would we choose which disabilities get to be represented and which are left out? I don’t know. It’ll probably have to be something we don’t include as an option again, sadly. I’m sorry.

playing our life > anything else 

Haha, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.

Honestly, I would like to thank Our Life for helping me come to terms with my sexuality. Before, I never would've actually thought that it was possible to like boys romantically and still be asexual. Almost all of the BL visual novels I've read had unskippable sexual content in them and it honestly just didn't click with what I feel. I'm glad I found Our Life. I love the game, the developers, and this fandom so much. Now, I can safely come out as homoromantic AND asexual (at least anonymously here anyway; my parents are still huge homophobes 😂). 

Aw, it’s great to hear you felt comfortable being yourself in the game! That’s wonderful. I’m really sorry about your parents, though.

Will the demo for OL2 be on android? Really not sure if I could wait any longer than I have to aha 

Yeah, it’ll be available for Android once we eventually release a demo!

Do all these reveals perhaps mean development is progressing ahead of schedule? Please let that be the case I'm already obsessed with Qiu 

No, sorry, aha. Art comes along much faster than script/programming-work for us. It’s gonna be a long time before the game is a finished thing you can actually play. But at least we can look at the beautiful images.

Hey! First of all I wanna say I reallllllyyyyy loooovvveeee Our Life and XOXO Droplets! I have over 300 hours of playtime on Our Life… Anyways, I was just wondering, are the Derek and Baxter DLCs going to come out at the same time? If not, which one do you plan to release first? :3 

They will come out separately and Derek will be first! Glad you like the game.

I keep replaying Our Life to get every possible iteration and I am loving it <3 I was wondering if Cove gets locked out of his confession because MC was talking to Lee, would it be possible to confess to him in step 4? 

Yeah, you can avoid the confession in Step 3 and then get it in Step 4.

Hi, my Cove wears bracelets through step 2 and 3 but I still don't get an option to give him a bracelet? I didn't even know that was possible until I seen someone else ask about it lol 

Hm, did you use the Cove creator? Maybe there’s a bug where using the creator to add bracelets doesn’t fulfill the requirement to give Cove a bracelet in Step 3.

Wait, I'm dense, when does Baxter appear in step 2? Is it from big park firework? I feel so bad since i really love Baxter and waiting to buy his dlc. 

It’s in the Soiree Moment. You have to be just friends with Cove, indifferent, or crushing but not ask Cove to the dance at all. Then while there you can find someone new to dance with. But if you bring Cove to the dance while crushing, the MC won’t wanna dance with anyone else so you can’t get the scene.

In step 2 when we go to the soiree I made my mc go alone and baxter chooses the mc to dance, i'm curious, why did he pick the mc? sorry if this has been asked before! 

Because the MC looked to be around his age, seemed to also be searching for a partner, and had nice legs. A perfect option for him.

I read some of the FAQs, and I saw that we could tell Baxter about the condo that he rented there was previously the mean old grandparents. how do we get the mc to tell him that? 

It happens in the DLC Moment “Late Shift”. If you don’t have a job you instead get a longer scene with Baxter.

I don’t know if you’ve addressed this or not, but are you planning on paying voice actors for our life: now and forever? 

Yeah, we pay our VAs in all our projects.

hey can i ask how you did the moments thing in ol? im trying to get into making visual novels and while im VERY sure its out of my comfort zone and all that atm i kinda wanna know just for the future, bc im p sure it would work well for something i wanna do :O but its also fine if you cant say for other reasons :> 

I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean. Are you asking how we programmed the screen or something script related? Adding Moments like that is pretty straightforward, though. You just have buttons that open to different labels and then the scripts are essentially individual short stories/vignettes. Good luck with your VN!

Since Autumn becomes gender fluid later in the game, will there be a character who remains as he/him to romance in game? 

OL1 has the he/him LIs, OL2 is all about other genders.

I don't want to impose on your creative plans, but a parrot could possibly make a good pet in an OL-type game? They're pretty long-lived and likely to still be thriving by the end even if the MC got them back in step 1. 

I do appreciate the suggestion, but I’m afraid it’s not likely going to happen. I understand there are technically some animals that could theoretically live long enough to last the whole game that or we could have the MC only get a pet after some years have already passed. But the many things that would have to be considered/accommodated for makes it just something we probably can’t manage adding. I’m sorry.

As time passes will we be able to see Qiu and Tamarack's other stage arts as well?

They are both so cute i can't wait to be friends with them!

Yeah, we’ll show content from other Steps in the future. It’ll be a little while from now, though.

Can you date Cove and still have your family comfort you in the car?

You can’t get Cove’s Step 3 confession scene if you have the family comfort you in the car. But that’s not the only way to date him. You can get together with him earlier in the game or later on in Step 4.

Is Mc always going to be the one walking down the aisle or could Cove do it? Also could you choose to have one of your moms walk you? 

No. Cove wouldn’t want to walk down the aisle like that and the MC automatically respects that. And the MC also gets to have their preferences respected, so it’s up to you whether they want to do an aisle walk or not. You also can pick who, if anyone, walks with you.

Once step 4 is out, will you be able to go the whole game on crush/love without either of you confessing? 

Yes, as long as you tell the game you don’t want to progress the relationship. Even in Step 4 it won’t force you to officially get together.

Howdy, so in Step 4, there will be any Romance with Derek that is not part of any dlc? 

He’s only a friend unless you get his romance story.

Will the step 4 in OL2 be one big step or are you considering moments? 

Step 4 is just an epilogue in both games.

hi kind of a weird question but!! we know tht cliff doesn't start dating again but. wht abt flings? like does he ever do 1 night stands or anything? thank u!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Nope. Cliff has a very small interest in sex. If he’s not in a real relationship with a partner he’s crazy about it simply isn’t something he feels a need for, so one night stands wouldn’t even cross his mind.

sorry if you've already answered this, but i was wondering if there were plans for there to be bonus love interests in OL2 like how we have derek and baxter in OL1.

Maybe! There are side characters who could be given romance stories, but whether or not it will happen depends on funding and how long everything else takes to finish.

I don't know if i'm allowed to ask about ol2 here yet, if not u can ignore this or answer it later. My question is can you date one of them and be good friends with the other? I don't want to be strangers with the other bcs i love them both a lot :<

Yes you can!

what patreon level do i have to be to unlock the nsfw moment? im on the $5 one right now, will that give me access to the moment, or just access to the moment progress? 

That’ll give you access! Tier 2 and anything higher allows the player to download it.

[r6shippingdelivery]

i think the thing that bothers me most about the whole zofia and ela thing is that it feels like a massive retcon. like did anyone else read Zofia bio? because to me it heavily implies that zofia might have killed their dad?? like ubisoft???? hello?? and it sounds more like zofia tried to reconcile with ela rather than Ela trying to reach out to her sister and being rebuffed?? idk whatever man

but i love the shot of the two opposing sides in the parking lot and you can see Thatcher in the background because the SAS are losing Smoke after all this time! like how did that conversation go?? was Mike just like a "disappointed but not surprised" dad when Smoke decided to go or was he more all out angry with him? and also Lion seeing Finka go! they were partners so it must be hard for both of them too! and he most likely doesn't know her reasoning since very few people know about her illness :(

Oh, I am so very annoyed that they retconned the lore of the sisters (although retconning lore is a staple of Siege's writers, they always change stuff to suit their needs atm, leaving a mess to piece for the fans). Although I do not really share the same conclusions you reached. Lemme explain:

We're told that the sisters grew up being distant due to Jan Bosak playing favorites, Zofia accepting his harsh methods due to the trauma of when bullying classmates almost drowned her - she wanted to become stronger so she wouldn't be vulnerable again, while Ela struggled and rebelled under her dad's strict authority. They did NOT work together in the early years of their careers, Zofia went overseas and met her husband in Mali, and Ela dropped off the military school, went to art school in Berlin, and later joined a small PMC group.

When Zofia went back to Poland to get married, her wishes of a small ceremony were hijacked by her dad, who turned it into a marked celebration, reuniting the clique of politicians who took power after the assassination of Poland’s president. Zofia was shocked to see two former suspects among the crowd, embraced warmly by her father. She left the party early, feigning illness. While investigating what she’d seen, Zofia discovered she was pregnant (literal excerpt from her bio). She kept that pregnancy secret, probably out of fear or uncertainty. And in the following months, her dad committed suicide. Allegedly.

After the death of her dad and the birth of her daughter, Zofia learns Ela is joining GROM and it's then when she attempts to reconnect with her sister while following her into Rainbow. None of that bullshit of "we were a team for years, but when father died you left me alone", it's the fucking opposite of what their bios say!!

From Harry's psychological report of Zofia, we learn that Zofia struggles with her father's death. She doesn't believe it was suicide and asked if I can recover his autopsy report (again, literal excerpt). So no, this indicates she's obsessed with uncovering the truth, she suspects those politicians who organized the assassination of the president killed her dad too, maybe to tie loose ends. And she's obsessed with discovering the truth, Harry even hints she's asked him to use his connections to let her access those reports, but he doesn't think he has those kinds of connections, nor does he think it's necessarily a good idea to indulge this obsession of Zofia, cause it won't bring her closure.

As for how they might react to some of the ops joining Nighthaven, I'm not about to especulate about what will happen cause they re-write and tweak the characters and their motivations every single time they make up something new 🤷

I don't think Thatcher was pleased, nor understanding. He is an old person with very rigid views of work (as seen in his interactions with Dokkaebi in The Hammer and The Scalpel), and I'd wager with a callsign of "Thatcher" he's conservative, patriotic, and old fashioned. So he would not take it well, nor be understanding like a dad figure, imo. As for Finka... do we really know she joined NH? The only people we see in the car with Kali are Ela and Smoke, the latter welcoming Ela to the NH family. We assume IQ, Pulse and Finka also joined cause they were around the cars too, but we don't know for sure. We don't know either if Lion and Finka are close or not as work partners. Although, seeing how last year she was siding with Ash and defending her and looking for a brawl with the people siding with NH, it would be a surprise for everyone if she joins NH. As you said, only Doc knows about her condition, so they wouldn't see it coming.

[leclerqued]

Happy Monday! 🧡✨

Normally October is a month where I’ve settled into an autumnal routine, my school stress has levelled itself out and I’m actually in a happy place - but now that the deadline for my final part of the study is approaching… yeah no that autumnal routine is out of the window and the stress is back in full force. So, this weeks motivation will all be about stress!

Tim. S. Grover once said: “Stress keeps you sharp, it challenges you in ways you never imagines and forces you to solve issues and manage situations that send weaker people running for cover.” And while that holds a piece of truth, do I fully agree with it? No. Stress these days is one of the reasons so many of us struggle with anxiety and get burned out. But stress, that adrenaline rush, does often help us stop overthinking over the things that give us stress. I always go in focus mode, not stopping until it is done.

But it wouldn’t be a Monday Motivation if I didn’t actually did have something to help deal with stress and it is something that comes so natural to all of us that we forget we do it every minute - breathing. Just taking a moment to close your eyes, breathe in deeply through your nose for the count of four, holding your breath for a couple of seconds and then pushing the air out through your mouth for the count of eight… it is the greatest way to relax the mind and the body. Stress endures hyperventilation and hyperventilation is a sign to our body that we’re in danger - which means we go into lockdown… and none of us want to go back into lockdown.

So, if you are dealing with something stressful this week: breathe along with me. Sit yourself down, close your eyes, breathe and know that you are stronger than you think and life only throws things at you that you can handle.

Now, I’m going to go and focus on this assessment! Sending you the biggest hug and kiss for this week. You’re not alone 😘

Good morning darling!

I've actually decided a couple of days ago that autumn is my favorite season. Especially this month, the Halloween vibes, the weather is still nice and I don't have to stress over holidays or exams.

Since I've finished to attend all my lessons atm I'm just enjoying playing videogames (actually only World of Warcraft) and chilling. Covid has slapped me in the face multiple times now, I've been ill for more than 3 weeks and even tho I'm not positive any more, I still have weird symptoms (rn I feel like I have bruises all over my body). It's tough and I've gained a lot of weight, have been neglecting eating in a proper healthy way bc covid & medicine would make me unbearably hungry, and whilst I thought my depression was about to get better, my father decided to scare the shit out of me behaving like he was capable of hurting me and destroying my stuff.

It's tough, but I have people helping me go through this. I have a community online and I can focus on many things in-game, keeping my mind busy until my body is strong enough to pick myself up and go through hell again.

I'm sorry this felt like removing a big thing from my chest, but I hope my perspective over this situation will give you some insight since you're always so positive.

Thanks for your kind messages, as always, as they make me reflect about myself and give me a big push forwards ❤️

Hope you have a wonderful week.

[swanhookheart]

Angry Grishaverse book review time!

After watching and LOVING s1 of Shadow and Bone, I read the trilogy! I was not impressed. 

Spoilers incoming for Grishaverse stuff, so if you don’t want those, don’t read on!

Watching Shadow and Bone this past weekend, I was hooked : Darklina, the lore behind the amplifiers, the Aleksander backstory… I was really impressed and hoped that this was it--that at last, I’d found a fantasy series that was going somewhere big, something I could really, thoroughly sink my teeth into. 

*Sigh* 

Then I read the books.

The reader / viewer enters the Grishaverse associating darkness with pure evil. The Fold, described early on, is shown to be this bleak, awful, ruinous place where people go to be eaten alive by volcra and hope goes to die. We therefore, naturally, associate the Darkling--who possesses the power of shadow--with that evil from the off. I’m speaking as someone who only got into the Grishaverse last Saturday. My initial thoughts were, “oh, he’s being set up to be viewed as dark and scary; this is the expectation Bardugo wants us to have so that we’ll be blown away by some great twist later. Count me in!”

But that twist never came. He was set up as evil, and he stayed evil. Surprise, he’s the Black Heretic! Surprise, he’s an abomination effectively created by Morezova’s greed! Surprise, he’s ruthless and horrible and does cruel things! Except none of those things are actually surprising, given he was SET UP from the beginning to be viewed that way. He did bad things, walked a bad walk, and talked a bad talk. I kept thinking “ah, so he’s gonna get a sweeeet redemption arc,” and then he just never did. That element of the story was predictable to a nauseating degree, and that predictability made the entire universe feel a bit flat. If the reader saw more of his backstory, had more real, logical, sound justification for why he does the things he does (like in the show, where they at least tried to paint his actions as borne of some misplaced sense of servitude / protection for the Grisha or where we saw him actively struggling at points to grapple with the darkness inside him), then maybe the trilogy wouldn’t have been such a letdown. And yes, I know about his sacrifice or whatever later on. It’s not enough.

In villains, I and probably plenty of others like to see humanity. We want to empathize with our villains to a certain extent--to understand them just a little bit--so we can fully commit to hating them when they violate our trust. The Darkling didn’t have that human, redeeming quality, though--at least, not in the books. In the books, he was just a power-hungry jackass who simultaneously didn’t want to be alone and kept trying to kill his only opportunity not to be alone. His single-mindedness, his lack of human empathy, the simplicity with which he pursued this made him seem almost stupid to me as a reader. For someone who’s lived hundreds of years, he’s kind of an idiot when it comes to other people--which, itself, almost seems incongruous with his having lived for so long. If he’d maybe had more backstory or more in his story to justify his actions, maybe he’d feel like a better villain. But atm, all I’m doing is rolling my eyes with him. I couldn’t love him because he didn’t put in any work toward being a better person. Even in the end, he doesn’t actually do the work or repent. But I also can’t hate him because the source material hasn’t given me enough actual human qualities to hate or to feel betrayed. His character just… missed the mark for me. 

As did Mal’s. Fucking MAL, oh my GOD! This dude’s literal only personality trait was loving Alina. Cool, he could track--for Alina, mostly. He could fight--for Alina. “I am become a blade”? Sir, you got a whole-ass tattoo announcing that you’re an object in this woman’s service? No WAP is worth that, and I’m speaking as a very bisexual woman. My dude, it’s weird, it’s extra, it’s just too much. I’ll go back to the Darkling for two seconds to say that, ofc, his actions were painted as problematic and misogynistic and gross. But, like, the possessiveness Mal displays with Alina kinda feels on that same level? Why are we pretending he’s better when he actively tries to keep her low, keep her powerless, and keep her his? Again, dude got a tattoo of her sigil. He was fully prepared to be the leader of her guard even if she married Nikolai just for the opportunity for some sexytimes. I know that YA is about really intense emotion, the fire of teenage hormones and stuff, but that all just felt a bit toxic. The way that his entire life revolved around her while she tried to balance the role of saint, hero, orphan, and all the things she was just felt goofy and like a wildly unhealthy dynamic. 

Their whole relationship also felt really obvious, as I guess the Darkling being revealed as the trilogy’s big bad did. It was predictable, set up to be that way from the start. There were no surprises. It was Mal, and then it was still Mal, and in the end, it was also Mal. We weren’t really shown any of what made them so drawn to each other, we were just kind of told and expected to be fine with the intensity of it. But it read as being way too much for me, and god, it kept getting worse. Again, this one felt like low-hanging fruit--low effort, lazy writing. Nothing about it actually read to me as romantic, just as too much. They didn’t so much as fall in love as just start out that way, and reading that was somewhere between boring and uncomfortable. At least with the Darkling or hell--even Nikolai--we saw some of that chemistry unfold on the page. We were shown some of what made them work the way they did. There was something underpinning their relationship, and not just “oh, they’re supposed to be together”. I mean, after all JKR’s bullshit, I feel totally fine saying fuck authorial intent. If you can’t even be bothered to actually put your shit on the page, don’t ask me to blindly accept your version canon as gospel truth. 

We could have had Deckerstar vibes, Beauty and the Beast vibes, seen light and dark come together and surprise us by actually working well together. But no, we saw a special girl lose everything that made her special and settle for some mediocre fuckboy from her hometown. We get characters that actually have the potential to be dynamic and make for a good story, but she still ends up with this bland, vanilla, trick-ass bitch? It’s a major letdown when you’ve actually been exposed to decent fictional couples, tbh.

OOF! And the ending? Oh jesus fuck, that ending. Darkling just… dies. Just like that. I read three whole books for that? I know he comes back and dies again and all, but the whole trilogy felt like it was building up to something more, something deeper and greater and more profound. He was horrible for the things he did, sure, and he deserved defeat as long as he refused to waver from his power-hungry, destructive path. But his death brought about no closure. He and Alina never actually had the fight they needed to or reached an understanding with each other. Everything is left undone, unsaid, unexplored. The ending just felt super anticlimactic on the page, and so, the trilogy as a whole fell completely short of any mark I hoped it might hit.

Did I hope Darklina would be endgame? Sure. But I’d also have been A-okay with a tragic ending if it had been done right. Did I think it would have been a lot more interesting to see a redemption arc for Darkling than just… more of the same? Or maybe Mal develop a personality outside of Alina? Absolutely. There was so much potential, and it really feels like Bardugo squandered all of it. And for what? This was nearly as disappointing as the eighth season of Game of Thrones. I probably won’t be watching future seasons if they follow the books, but I guess I’m glad for the day or so of fleeting pleasure I got when I still had hope for a properly told story. 

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Tangled Webs - Chapter Seven (Dark! Peter Parker x Reader)

Dark Webs Masterlist | Tangled Webs Masterlist

Warnings:   Angst, language, Topics of death and depression, PTSD, more angst, violence, a bit more fluff and smut than the last series (but not in this chapter)? Somewhat ignoring the MCU timeline due to mature content

Word Count: 4825

Summary: After doing your best to walk on eggshells around Peter, you finally reach the boiling point as you and him face (most) of your drama head on…

A/N: It’s been a hot minute but I’m back with an update. Hope ya’ll didn’t forget about this series like I did lmao. I hope you like this chapter and give me some sweet words because I missed it so much! DM me to be tagged and I hope you guys like it!! Please like and share if you can! (Also I found this .gif on google, so if you made it, or know who did, let me know and I will credit!) Thank you xx -N

You barely slept the last few days as you trapped yourself in your apartment in Stark Tower since the incident. You were sick, with no possible form of treatment and to boot, you almost were found out by Peter about what you were doing. Two things you weren’t sure how to deal with just yet. But you knew one thing for sure, you couldn’t take much more of these secrets.

    Not being able to see Peter or talk to him was killing you. And with you and him broken up, it only made it harder. You were always independent, especially when Peter and you stopped being friends. You made your own money, solved your own problems, you even saved Peter a handful of times. So it wasn’t so much that you were one of those girls who needed Peter to constantly save you; but you were a team. And everything you did together made the both of you even stronger. That was one of the reasons why Peter and you worked so well.

    But with Peter gone, and you struggling with your own issues; you could feel yourself getting weaker and weaker. The lethal combination with Octavious and your disorder mixed along with probably the worst of it all; you were missing Peter and heartbroken over him being gone. And the worst part was that you didn’t even blame him for pulling away. You definitely deserved it after hiding everything from him. You just wished that even if you did tell him the truth, that it would be enough.

    But how could it be enough?

    Pushing yourself out of bed, you used whatever strength you could muster up so early in the morning. You needed to conserve that and your energy for when Octavious called on you these days, which would only make you even weaker in the process. You would laugh at the irony, but you were too tired to.

    You didn’t want to think about your death but given recent events; it popped up in your mind pretty frequently these days. You didn’t want to think so morbidly and always tried to remain positive but how could you not when your body was literally at war and the venom that saved your life was also potentially killing you? Death was inevitable for you now, and you were looking at it right in its eye.

    Of course, Peter was always one of your first concerns. You saw how when you started spiraling out of control affected him; how upset he would be, or how Peter would blame himself for his actions. It killed you to think what he would say or do when you weren’t there to keep him grounded and remind him that there was nothing he could have done. That it wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t blame or punish himself; and that finding somebody responsible was a waste of time.

    You wanted to tell Peter to prepare him, to get the grieving out of the way if he could and enjoy whatever time you had left with Peter. But now, you weren’t even sure if you and Peter were going to make amends, and that scared you more. Would he even care about your health now? As much as you wanted him to, you knew Peter should focus on himself anyway. So you couldn’t help but think that maybe if he didn’t know, it would be best for everyone.

    Snapping yourself out of your dark thoughts for a moment, you heard your coffeemaker go off. Grabbing your mug and bringing it to your lips, you stopped as you felt something run through your body as you stared at the front door. Somebody was coming to the door. Morgan had school and no way was Agent Kent knocking on your door after you made him look like an idiot in front of half of S.H.I.E.L.D.

    You hurried to the door, hearing the door handle begin to jiggle and opened it. Your eyes widened as you looked at Peter standing in the doorway wearing a navy blue hoodie and jeans. His soft brown curls tousled and all over the place as his tired and now bloodshot eyes were staring back you bewilderedly.

    “Hi,” you spoke out in a tired voice. Clearing your throat as you opened the door. The first time you actually saw Peter. The last time you saw him was at the ATM, unbeknownst to Peter that you were the one who knocked him into the window, leaving him to explain that to S.H.I.E.LD and Kent how he still hadn’t caught you. Again.

    “I...uh...how did you know I was here? I didn’t knock?” Peter questioned as he looked at you. He knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. Nine days and eleven hours, Peter was counting his days a lot lately. It had been nine days and eleven hours, but it felt like it had been years dragged out of him. And now, he didn’t know what to say.

    You looked different to him for some reason, and he couldn’t figure out why. He used to love seeing you in the morning with a fresh face as you made coffee wearing one of his old school hoodies. But this morning, you looked like a different person to him. Tired, pale, almost like you were getting sick.

    Letting Peter in, you cleared your throat again, “I heard footsteps,” you answered to try and tip toe around the subject. You looked at the coffee on the counter as you ran your fingers nervously through your hair, “Coffee?” you offered him, not sure what to say to him. You never thought you’d see the day where you and Peter had nothing to say to one another.

    Peter shook his head, “No, thank you. I just came to pick up some things,” he admitted, pressing his lips into a line as he showed you the duffel bag in his hand. Was he really about to pack his belongings and move out? Granted, it was just a few floors up; but how long was he planning on staying up there? Another week? A month? Forever? He didn’t like any of those options at all. But he knew he had to do it for now to protect you and most importantly; to protect you from finding out that Peter started drinking again. He knew if you found out, it would only trigger you more. And it was just the two times, he was hoping he could get himself to a meeting before anybody else found out.

    He headed into the bedroom towards the closet, placing his bag on the chair nearby and unzipping it. He wasn’t really even looking at what he was taking, just grabbing whatever he could and began stuffing it into his bag. It felt like he was almost saying goodbye, and it wasn’t what he wanted to do at all.

    Peter had been dreading coming here for days but he needed fresh clothes and truth be told, he wanted to check in on you. He had missed you these last few days and you always calmed him down no matter what you were going through. But he was worried about you too. And as much as he wanted to be there for you while you dealt with your demons, he also knew his demons were at bay and he couldn’t be around so much chaos right now. For his own sake.

    “So...” you started to say a bit awkwardly, leaning up against the door frame as you stared downward towards the ends of your hair, “I think I may have a name for the guy you put away from the ATM. I was going to try and research a bit today,” you offered him what little intel you had. Especially since you couldn’t say much without mentioning Dr. Octavious, that would only connect Quentin Beck to you and you knew Peter would get killed if he knew too much.

    Licking his lips as he jammed some sweatshirts into his bag, Peter nodded slowly, “Just be careful, okay?” he finally said as he kept his eyes on his bags, almost as if he was afraid to look at you otherwise he didn’t know what he would do. If he did, he’d probably stay longer, “Can’t trust many people right now,” he said a bit lower.

    Yeah, like me, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly. All you could do was nod your head as you tucked your hair behind your hair nervously. You couldn’t do this anymore. The hiding and lying. You were building so much inside of you and it was only making you feel worse, mentally and physically. You couldn’t afford to lose Peter, not now.

    Moving a bit closer to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “P-Peter, I-I have to tell you something,” you stammered, feeling your voice grow weaker as you felt the lump grow swollen in your throat. You were terrified of this moment, and you were more afraid because Octavious was listening in, as always. And if he was, then you didn’t have much time at all to tell him.

    Peter’s brow furrowed as he turned his head to face you. He saw the distraught expression on your face and knew something was wrong. He knew you were hiding something from him and it was literally tearing the both of you apart, “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked you as calmly and rationally as he could.

    You sucked in a sharp breath as tears began to prick your eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like your legs were about to collapse at any moment. Your bottom lip quivered the more you stared into Peter’s big eyes, trying to find your voice in the silence that was deafening between you both.

    “I really fucked up. I…” you trailed off as you began to cry, the tears streaming down your cheeks more now, “I was so stupid and now it’s worse. So much worse, Peter,” you told him through your sobs.

    “What? What’s worse, Y/N?” Peter asked as he raised his eyebrow. He was afraid of what you were hiding, but he hated the fact that you were hiding it more than anything. Whatever it was, it was big enough for you to decide that it would freak Peter out; and that bothered him the most. That you thought he couldn’t handle whatever it was you were going through.

    You sniffled as you stared down at the floor, unable to even look at Peter right now as you tried to relax your breath, “Last summer...when I…” you could barely get a word out between your sobs, “At the game,” you finally got out.

    “The game?” Peter questioned, his eyebrow quirking up as you looked at you suspiciously, “The Yankee game? With the elemental?” he asked for clarification.

    Shaking your head frantically, you grabbed Peter’s arms to pull him closer, “That’s just it, Peter. It wasn’t an elemental! Don’t you find it strange you didn’t find anything that night? You came home empty handed,” you explained, your voice becoming more and more hysterical.

    “Y/N, what are you saying?” Peter asked again, trying to figure out what it was you were trying to tell him. You had so many secrets these days, Peter knew that. And he couldn’t tell if this was a secret, or was it a bender? “Do you know what was responsible for it?” he tried again, trying his best to keep his tone level. He hated seeing you so upset and he didn’t want to make you any more upset than you clearly already were.

    You nodded your head, “Okay, I know I sound absolutely crazy right now but I-”

    You felt a pull on your throat, making you gasp. It felt as if your breath was taken away, like somebody just punched you right in your windpipe, preventing you from speaking. Wheezing out your breath, you saw Peter’s face waiting for you to answer. But you couldn’t utter a word.

    Octavious, you thought to yourself.

    He was listening in now, and controlling you. Preventing you from telling Peter the truth about what was wrong with you. Octavious wanted Peter dead and risking this conversation was enough, but you really needed to tell Peter what was going on. In hopes that maybe it wasn’t too late, for you or him; and some of these horrific events could be prevented.

    And once again, you were frozen now. Blocked from telling Peter the truth and unable to help him find Octavious and get to him before he got to Peter. Or before you got to Peter. You were capable of so much these days, it frightened you to no end. And without Peter helping you control it, you were damned.

    “What do you know?” Peter asked again, getting a little bit closer. He tried taking a whiff of your breath, but he couldn’t smell anything. His senses weren’t triggered, but he knew what a bender looked like. He’d hit bottom before. Granted his bottom looked a lot worse, he could still sense it from a mile away.

    You tried to open your mouth but nothing came out. Tell him about the venom, you shouted at yourself. Tell him about Octavious, and the robberies. Tell him it was killing you and destroying you from the inside out. Tell Peter you needed his help.

    With tears streaming down your cheeks, you shook your head at him as you tried to speak; but nothing came out once more. You hated this. You were so close to being free just to be silenced once again. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. It was becoming more and more obvious how much you needed Peter’s help, and he couldn’t give you anything if you were being controlled by Ock.

    “I will have you rip out his throat if you so much as whimper in his direction right now, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice threatened you inside of your head, and you felt your stomach beginning to churn once more. You always tried to fight back, but in this moment, you were truly terrified of something happening to Peter. So you didn’t.

    Looking down at the floor, you focused on Peter’s sneakers as you shook your head at him. Biting your lip to restrain yourself from saying anything further so Peter wouldn’t get hurt. You could tell he was disappointed in you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

    Peter sighed, running a hand over his face as he licked his lips, “Y/N, I know you’re going through a bad time right now. I’ve been there, and it kills me seeing you going down this path that I never wanted you to go down,” he had to stop himself for a minute, saying it out loud to you hurt him even more. He hated that this was the reality of your relationship, “I am so worried about you, I am. And you know I want to be there for you, and I’m trying to be. But you have to tell me what you need first,” his voice became rugged and raspy the longer he spoke, knowing he couldn’t say much else at that point.

    He leaned forward, bringing his lips to the top of your head before he reached down and grabbed his bag on the floor. Taking a few steps towards the door before he looked at you one last time standing in the doorway, still staring down at the floor holding back your tears. And Peter was trying to do the same.

    “I’ll be training all day and then I’m crashing with Kent if you need me for anything,” he finally told you, seeing you nod your head slightly before he turned and walked out of the front door.

    The door shut behind Peter, and you collapsed to the floor. Sobbing to yourself as you grabbed a hold of the necklace Peter had given you, clutching onto the spiderweb pendant for dear life. You always told Peter everything. And now you didn’t even know who this person was anymore.

    “We’re striking big tonight, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice ran through your mind as you tightened your grip on your necklace, “Rest up for it…”

--------

    No matter what Peter did, he couldn’t shake the look you had on your face as he geared himself for his night. The look of pure terror on your face replayed over and over again in his mind as he got his suit on. His speech still fresh on his tongue while he pulled his mask over his head; wishing maybe he hadn’t been so harsh. The sound of your cries he overhead from the other side of the door when he left repeated while Peter initiated KAREN. He wished he hadn’t heard it, it nearly made him crumble, but he did.

    Peter was in no condition to go out tonight. He had a lot on his mind with you, and the robberies, and how so many people were depending on him and he couldn’t deliver what they needed. And with the pressure coming from Agent Kent, Peter was really beginning to feel all the weight on his shoulders. And it was taking everything in him not to take another drink.

    “I’ve got a good feeling we’ll get her tonight,” Kent said enthusiastically as he entered the room. He took a seat behind a computer chair as he gave Peter an all knowing smile, “She seems to be favoring the downtown area, and so far the museums are the only places she hasn’t hit yet. The Air and Space Museum is the only one that would have tech she may be after.”

    “What makes you think she’s after tech? So far she’s only stolen money from bodegas or ATMs,” Peter gave Kent a puzzled face, did he know something that Peter didn’t? And if so, why wasn’t Kent giving him this information that was important?

    Kent shrugged his shoulders as he adjusted his glasses on his face while focusing on the computer screen, “They’re always after more than just money, Peter. You of all people should know that,” he reminded Peter as he continued to pull some maps up on the screen.

    “If you say so,” Peter said as he adjusted his web mode, making sure everything was working properly. You were usually the one who made sure his suit was updated, fixing Dark Web mode, and even making sure KAREN was properly synched up. There was always something calming about having you by his side before he went out as Spider-Man; even if it was just a basic patrol. You always calmed him down and made him feel like he was doing the right thing. Now, he was beginning to doubt all of that lately.

    Peter’s eyes flickered to the counter top, focusing in on the bottle of Jack Daniels that was left behind from the other night. When he was planning on dumping the remaining liquid down the drain this morning before he went to see you. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He needed something to numb the pain, at least for the moment.

    Without Kent noticing, Peter took a few swigs of the whiskey as he felt the warmth slide down his throat. It felt so wrong, and he knew it. And now, he felt absolutely disgusted with himself. Months of hard work and strength just flushed down the drain for a few sips to only make him feel more miserable for it. And now he had to find this robber half sober, half buzzed.

    Peter went over to the window, staring down at all of the city lights as the lump in his throat grew bigger. The city suddenly looked smaller to him, as his eyes grew bigger through the mask. Your face coming back to his mind as he tried to shake it off once more, but he was beginning to find it nearly impossible.

    “Don’t be afraid to use your advanced modes on her, Pete,” Kent said from the computer before he swung away, “That’s why you have them, to get rid of people like her,” he narrowed his eyes on Peter knowingly.

    So, Kent wanted Peter to kill this masked woman, essentially. Although Peter wasn’t exactly new to that idea, he had his history of killing and it got him here. He knew there were other ways to get justice, even if it took longer. But Kent was messing with his mind, and he was beginning to think he may not have any other option.

    Nodding his head, Peter aimed his web shooter for the nearby lamppost down below as he swung out of Stark Tower. The moment he left, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved to get out of there. Even if it was to keep vigil.

    Peter swung his way in no time to the museum. Everything seemed quiet in the city streets, making him feel a bit more at ease. He scanned the entrance, noticing no security to be found; which was oddly peculiar for a museum. Lights were on throughout the exhibits, and as Peter glanced up towards the camera, he noticed they were destroyed.

    “Someone is here,” Peter said into his microphone, knowing Kent was listening in. He moved in towards the nearby exhibit for space missile technology, “Karen, activate Dark Web mode,” he whispered slowly as he felt the black webbing beginning to coat his suit before he went into the illuminated room to investigate. It was a little dramatic to go dark to see, but based on how strong this new rival was, Peter wasn’t about to take any chances with them.

    Peter tiptoed his way towards the doorway, knowing he was invisible, but he still needed to proceed with caution. He peered into the doorway, frozen in the moment as he watched meticulously. Unbeknownst to his new friend that he was watching her every move. Making sure this time he would be ready to take her down.

    The alcohol was swirling around Peter’s brain as he continued to concentrate. He hadn’t drank in so long, those few swigs that he had already affected him.

    “Don’t overthink this, Peter,” Kent’s voice came through, “Remember what I told you, don’t be afraid to fully attack with this one.”

    Peter had no idea why Agent Kent was so adamant about him being so cut throat. He knew the rules, and if Peter had to get more aggressive, he would. But right now, there was no reason to go the extreme. Especially since he knew how he felt towards getting his hand bloody. It led him down dark paths that he knew he didn’t want to go down again.

    Feeling a bit dizzy, Peter pulled himself together as he took a few more steps forward. Watching her try and disconnect what seemed to be a missile on display from the exhibit area. What the hell was she trying to do with a missile, Peter thought to himself.

    He got his web shooter ready, prepared to stun her for a moment with his taser web. Before he could aim in her direction, he felt a force punch him directly in his chest. His back hitting the wall with a thud as he whimpered. Opening his eyes as he saw her turning her head back to the missile, moving her hands even faster.

    How did she even know he was there? There was no way she would have been able to even hear him unless…

    ...Unless if she had a spider sense too.

    “Alright, that does it,” Peter huffed out as he picked himself up. He kept the Dark Web mode on as he whipped around so he was directly behind her, “I’ve just about had it with you and I’m done being nice about it,” he announced as he kicked the inside of her knee, buckling her to the ground.

    Grabbing her by the arm, he heard her yelp as he twisted it a bit, “Deactivate Dark Web mode and turn off all communication,” he told Karen as he picked her up and shoved her against the wall as his suit came into vision once again. He didn’t need Kent in his ear right now. Not when he was this close to bringing her in and being done with this bullshit.

    With her chest against the wall, he swiveled around. Looking into her eyes through her black mask as he raised her arm over her head. She had no weapons. And her eyes looked almost terrified. Her breathing was heavy as she kept her eyes on Peter warily.

    “Who do you work for?” he tried to ask, leaning forward. His body pushed flush against hers as he had her literally backed into a corner with nowhere to go. His hand began to slide around her neck, squeezing in a little bit to threaten her in order to start talking, “You better start talking otherwise I will not hesitate right now,” he threatened through his teeth.

    Peter squeezed a little more, hearing her groan as he waited for her to answer. He blinked as something bright glimmered along her neck, getting his attention. Adjusting his eyes, he glanced down at the necklace and squinted at her collar. The pendant staring back at him as his eyes rapidly fluttered back to her intense masked eyes; feeling his stomach drop.

    “No,” Peter said in a low voice as he grabbed the pendant, “Y/N?” he asked.

    And in that weak moment, you kicked Peter in the chest to break free. Sending him backwards and completely bewildered by what the fuck was happening…

Taglist:  @osterfield-holland-andcompany @missmulti @hazmyheart @lauras-collection @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @detroitbydark @mcuassemble @blahhhhhhhaaa @lonikje @beiroviski @ruefulposts @rebekkah4766 @desir-ae @kayla-m1996 @unicorn-princess-1999 @asmilinghopelessromantic @itsjusttor @whatareyouhidingpeter @when-marvellous-things-happen @mannien @lilostif16 @u-rrose @ninjalex1d  @baby-unidorn @astoldbydanid @honey-sea​ @fallingforfics​ @lulueliott24​ @mikalaka @babebenhardy @coni-martina @captainemrys​ @mktravelbuggie​ @underoosmarvel​ @pluckypete​ @hollandfanficlove​ @lookalivefrosty​ @lightmelikeacigarette​ @msmarvel-19​ @u-rrose​ @parker-holland-osterfield​ @thwip-it-real-good​ @shirukitsune​ @justanotherusername80​ @dangerdolns​ @jwolfesblog​ @jjayyc​ @ifilosemyselfagain​ @axisnpalma​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ @bookgirlunicorn​ @kfcyum​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @buzzbuzzitsmeagainbitch​ @herondale-snow-carstairs​ @marvelobsessedteenager​ @unlimitedd​ @dramaholic18​ @softholand​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ @emotionally-unstable23​ @quackeroos​ @unbelievableholland​  @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @spideyyeet​ @katiekinzs​  @fanficparker​ @ifntelyinspirit​ @rubberducky-jrr​ @xguardgirlx​  @t-holland2080​ @selfcarecap​ @localfangirlx​ @xxpeachyxo​ @hazardosterfield​ @xstarbae​ @justanotherusername80​ @photoshopart15​ @spiderbibby​ @the-fandom-life-forever​ @jannine00742​  @parachutepants​ @decadentwastelandtrash​ @anythingthaticareabout​ @sunflowerxbarnes​ @londonspidey​ @azaraspirit​

[cherrysha]

Atonement

feitan is back!! because he lives in my head rent free. for some reason when i write him i just be thinkin of moral and ethical struggle... prolly cuz the idea that a man who tortures for fun can also love is a concept that is kinda weird to think abt. BUT!! its possible, so i write. Also i had to take a break from pwp and this just popped into my head.

Summary: Feitan has a moment of introspection

word count: 1130

My requests are open atm

Warnings: torture, death, blood, yandere themes, kidnapping, a reference to drugs, religious imagery

Does he know its wrong? He’s been in the business of theft, of murder, for years now. The misconception most have about what is wrong and what is right, is that it’s not subjective. There’s wrong and then there’s right, maybe a shade of gray in between. But who was he to decide which was which? And the general population was so enraptured by the ethical ideals of modern-day society, blatantly ignoring any hypocrisy that came along with it, that their opinion didn’t matter much either. They believed what everyone else believed. Nothing more than brainless sheep.

You’d probably wake in the next few hours, maybe even sooner, he couldn’t tell. What was different from this? Theft was theft, and if society already condemned him for his previous actions, then this was something that was acceptable for him to do.

A human can bite off their own finger with so little resistance it’d be like biting through a carrot, but our minds have restrained us from ever even trying. Is that how it worked? Fear of damnation too much to even try to have heaven here on earth? Temptation was the sin of Eve, but it was just a natural consequence of the human condition. Something as normal as breathing, and part of him couldn’t help but to feel bad for her. He leaves to finalize his spot in hell; To make his own heaven. It’d be worth any pain in the supposed afterlife.

Feitan watches the man struggle, grunts coming from his taped mouth as he tries to get away. The idea of engagement, of marriage, was enough to make him scoff as well. The blade sinks in effortlessly when he finally plunges it into the man’s side. He screams against the tape, of course. If it weren’t for the pure hatred in his heart, or the notion that this man had at one point claimed you, he wouldn’t have bothered with someone so weak. There was no sport in hunting easy prey. It’s a task that must be done, but right now it serves as a way to pass the time until you eventually woke up.

When Feitan has him bound to the table, he finally speaks

“There is this misconception,” he says, slowly maneuvering around the table to his tools, “That sharper knives are more dangerous.”

His eyes are wide with panic. Feitan’s already forgotten his name, he’s hoping you would as well with time.

“But in truth, the duller ones are what you should fear.” Feitan slowly drives a blade into the meat of the man’s exposed shoulder, as if to demonstrate how it fails to even cut through the skin. It only finds its way into his body when the right amount of pressure has been applied. He screams again, and Feitan can see what you liked about him. The deep baritone was manly, his physique was as well, but it was all just surface level. He couldn’t fault someone as trusting as you to fall for the ruse.

“The duller the blade, the more jagged the cut.” He sighs, as if he’s giving a lecture in a room full of unworthy students.

“It takes longer to heal. But you don’t have to worry about that.”

He shouldn’t be wasting his breathe, he knows that. But there’s this desperate need to prove something. To prove that he, himself, is stronger in every way.

This man wouldn’t even last Feitan an hour and, in truth, it wasn’t much fun to flay the skin off of someone that’d already given up hope of any salvation. He did it anyway, taking a sharper knife and sliding it under the taut skin of his stomach. Just to satisfy his curiosity. Would the blood loss win, or would he die from shock first?

He’s sweating from the pure agony he’s in, panting heavily through his nose. Feitan takes a break just to watch. As always, his mind drifts to you. He’d felt love in small doses in his life; he knew what it was. A warmth in the heart that didn’t present itself as the squelch of his knife into something firm. A happiness that wasn’t caused by the light dimming from his opponent’s eyes. Your smile, the softness of your skin, the glow that radiated from your very being in the summertime. His summer sun in all its glory, and yet he knew better. He gets up, curiosity pulling him to his feet once more.

Deftly, he rips the tape from the man’s mouth and he weakly stares up in confusion.

“Would you rather me kill you, or the girl in the other room?” his voice is sharp, full of an authority someone as weak as him held no power against.

“What d’you-“

“You were engaged right? Would you rather I slit her throat or yours? There’d be no pain.”

Its in his eyes, Feitan can see the choice as clear as day. The shock morphs into guilt, and before his dirty lips can finish speaking your name his throat is gushing like an open faucet.

Feitan bends down, as if to tell him a secret he’s only capable of learning on his deathbed. “I’ll use the fifteen seconds that you have left to tell you that you are nothing more than a coward. A blemish to society, and your death is just as meaningless as your life.”

Feitan stands straight again and patiently waits for the blood to finish pouring out of the wound. Its not his best work, or even his most satisfying, but its enjoyable nonetheless.

He washes it from his hands, scrubs the red stains to rid himself of any traces of the dead body. Two hours maybe? He’s not exactly sure when you’ll wake, but he comes to you anyway. Just to watch as you peacefully slept on his bed. He knew better than this; To love and be loved was a weakness. But he discovered that maybe it was just fear that held him back. A fear of loss, of rejection, a blanket fear of the unknown consequences loving you would have. Men like him served a purpose in society, a separate entity from the normal everyday citizens on the street.

You stirred as the drugs started to finally dissipate. Lashes fluttering as you sleepily opened your eyes.

People like him couldn’t afford to be cowards. Fear was a construct, and it served little purpose with the lifestyle he chose to lead. He’s enraptured by you, soul irrevocably woven with yours, even if you don’t know it yet. If you rejected him, it was just fear. Not of him, but of the unknown. That was to be expected of someone as fragile as you.

He watches as you try to sit up, body falling limply to the bed when your arm gives out. In time you’d know him, love him the same way he did you.

[a-simple-imagine]

A Little Bit Of Love... Potion?

Prompt: "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker." "Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?" "No!"

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader, lots of Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

A/N - This was written for @firewhisky-kisses​ writing challenge. This is my second Harry Potter themed story ever since I only joined the fandom like two weeks ago (very much feeling like an outsider atm) so please don’t judge too harshly. I am still getting used to these characters and the wizarding world itself. I decided to write something a little lighthearted. 

Warnings - Playful threats of violence 

"I'm gonna kill him," You growl loudly as you storm into the common room in search of Hermione Granger. She was one of three people at Hogwarts you would consider your best friend. The others were Harry Potter; and the other you were about to murder for catching you off guard. You held a towel around the top of your head to conceal your worst nightmare. Stray Gryffindors were settled around the room doing one thing or another as the day was drawing to a close. Hermione was resting on an armchair by the fire utterly engrossed by the massive book in her hands.

"Who?" She doesn't even bother to look up as you approach.

"Ron obviously," You groan, grip tightening on the towel to stop it from slipping. "who else would go out of their way to annoy me."

An unamused sigh falls past her lips as she finally lowers her book. "Show me,"

"No, it's embarrassing." You protest. Looking around the room; you didn't speak to anyone else in here too often so what did it even matter what they thought.

"Well then I can't help you,"

You shift your weight uncomfortably before pulling the towel off in a dramatic reveal of your beautiful head. Hermione's eyes drift over you; struggling to hold back her amusement as she finally sees what happened. "It's... not so bad," She replies quietly, a melodic chuckle drifting into the air. "Bright."

"I look like a walking highlighter." You whine, taking a seat on the arm of her chair. "Fix it,"

Hermione whips out her wand and with a flick of her wrist you assume your hair has gone back to normal. She was too good of a witch for it to not have. Reaching for her book, you inspect the cover as you slide into her lap. Absentmindedly flipping through the pages with complete disregard for where she was up to. "Ronald Weasley is gonna regret ever messing with me,"

"It is not that bad," Hermione plucks the book from your grasp. "You did slip him Puking Pastilles the other day."

"That was funny though" A smile spreads over your lips at the memory of Ron throwing up in the great hall before charging out. “This isn’t”

"He threw up all over my shoes,"

"Gross," you laugh a little. "If it had been my shoes, it'd be a different story. What should I do to get back at him?"

"Leave him alone? Show you're the mature one and move on?"

"Don't be silly Hermione," Your head falls back against the plush fabric of the chair. "Why should I stop and not him? Maybe he should be the mature one."

"He won't stop unless you stop,"

"I could hex his broom at quidditch practice," You think out loud; chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Watch him fall on his face."

"Absolutely not. You're not putting him in the hospital wing over some silly prank war."

You gently roll your eyes. "We could-"

"There's no we," Hermione interrupts. "Please do not include me in your nonsense. I'm not helping you. Can you get off me?"

Sliding off her lap and onto the floor, you rest your head against her knee. "I'll think of something- don't you worry. He won't be getting away with this."

"At least do it quietly,"

You're quiet for the moment; going over different options while staring at a tower of books on the coffee table. Next to them say some parchment and a quill. "Are those yours? Can I borrow your quill?"

"Knock yourself out,"

You grab the feather and a piece of parchment paper and get to work laying out all your options to get back at Ron. Hermione would probably kill you if you hurt him so that rules out a fair few things. You could buy something at Zonko's but at this point he'd probably see those coming; you can only slip him sweets that make him sick so many times. Then again maybe it was just simple enough to work. You scribble it down on the parchment paper anyway. Next you add the nose biting teacup but that was rather impractical considering he hardly ever drank tea. Acid lollipops were an option, they would just burn a hole in his tongue but that could count as hurting him even if it was an easy fix.

"What are you writing?" Hermione wonders, you glance up to her and smile a little. "I assume you’re not studying all of a sudden."

"Nope," You hold up the paper for her. "I'm listing ways to get back at Ron."

"Of course you are," She takes your list. "Why don't you just buy a joke wand?"

"Boring," Jumping to your feet, you snatch the paper back. "I need to do something out of the box."

"Don't come to me when things go wrong," She insists softly, returning her attention to her book.

"Things won't go wrong," You declare proudly. You'd been doing this since your second year so you kind of have a knack for pulling pranks at this point. "Have a little faith in me."

It takes a day or two but thanks to Harry dragging you along to advanced potions class at the start of the year you decide the perfect way to get back at Ron is to make him fall in love with you. Well, a weird embarrassing obsession kind of love. Commence operation; practice your potion making by creating a love potion and tricking Ron into consuming it. Not only do you get to embarrass him but it can count as studying which will keep Hermione at bay. Not that you're going to tell her because Love potions of any kind are banned at Hogwarts and she'll just insist it's a bad idea. Now all you had to do was figure out how to actually make a love potion. Professor Slughorn has made one at the beginning of the year but you weren't actually taught how to make one nor do you actually remember much about class that day. Once you figured out how you could collect the ingredients and then trick Ron into drinking it. It shouldn't be too complicated.

Every free period following is spent huddled in the back of the library, searching through what felt like a mountains of books on potions.  A good portion of what you read is just the history behind the potion itself and the dangers. It wasn't a potion that would cause him any harm so there was no need to worry. Eventually, you manage to create a checklist of ingredients that consisted of;

Ashwinder eggs

Rose thorns

Peppermint

Powdered Moonstone

Pearl Dust

Rose Petals

This joke was beginning to feel like more effort than it was worth but you were determined to see this through. Ron would never see this coming. After returning all your books to the shelves, you figure getting some help from Harry is the next step. The only place to get all the ingredients was from the potions classroom or the supply room. You couldn't just walk in and take stuff without seeming a little suspicious; you also weren't exactly Slughorn's favourite student. Everyone knew it was Harry. So your final option was to sneak around.

"Harry- wait up," You run up beside him as g walks through the courtyard. Rather surprised to find him alone considering your next class was with him and Ron.

"Hey,"

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Depends," He shrugs. You offer him a very gentle smile, fluttering your eyelashes a little. He wasn't exactly the type to say no to you but better safe than sorry.

"Can I borrow your invisibility cloak? I promise I'll return it tomorrow."

"What for?" Your stomach sinks a little at his question. You can't risk telling him in case he tells Ron which will ruin the surprise.

"I need some ingredients for a potion and I don't really feel like asking for permission," Telling half a truth is much easier than coming up with an entirely new lie. "Please? How many times have I broken the rules for you now and I would do it again."

"Professor Slughorn probably wouldn't mind if you just asked. What are you making anyway?"

"I just wanna do some late-night practice. I'm more of a do what I want then ask for forgiveness later kinda person so can I? Please?" Emphasis on the 'please' in hopes that it will somehow help your case.

"Sure,"

"Thank you," Looping your arm with his, you begin to practically drag the poor boy through the courtyard. You couldn't be late for class again. Snape would take any excuse to punish you. "let's get to class before we both end up in detention."

Thanks to Harry's cloak, you manage to collect every ingredient needed for your forbidden love potion and get to work. You wouldn't say potion making was your worst subject but it's definitely not your best either and it was showing. After a few attempts by candlelight in the early hours of the morning, you finally manage to create a love potion. Normally you'd test a potion before recklessly using it on unsuspecting friends but there was no time or way to do that without them catching on. The last step was simple, deliver all kinds of spiked candy to Ron Weasley and pretend like everything was normal.

Sitting in the great hall, you slowly lift spoonfuls of cereal into your mouth as you listen to Neville drone on about his dream; at least that's what you hope he's talking about. Last night had wiped you out; your body was exhausted. You could just about keep your eyes open and all you wanted to do was go back to bed. Hermione was sat directly across from you, very delicately buttering a piece of wholemeal toast.

"I don't think it means anything, you're just thinking too much into," Hermione explains to Neville. You just shrug your shoulders; you hadn't really been paying attention anyway but you manage to perk up a little as Harry plops down beside you.

"What time do you call this Potter?" You scold, bumping your shoulder playfully against his.

"And where's Ron?" Hermione continues.

"He should be here soon enough. He's just taking extra care getting ready."

"Why?"

"He's trying to impress someone," Harry reaches for a bowl of fresh fruit.

"Oh do tell," An aura of giddiness envelops your words as if you don't expect the answer to be yourself. There was a chance he hasn't taken the bait yet and he just genuinely had a crush.

"I promised I wouldn't,"

"Come on, Harry. We won't tell."

"He's never mentioned liking anyone before," Hermione adds to the conversation, biting into her toast with a crunch.

"I don't know- ask him." As if summoned on cue, The redhead appears beside Hermione. He doesn't seem any different other than the smile and distant look in his eyes. Not to mention, he may have combed his hair? You couldn't be sure though.

"Did you sleep in again," She pauses for a second, her brows knitting together in a frown. "And is that... cologne I smell?"

Ron doesn't answer, he just looks at you with the expression of someone hopelessly entranced. It's a little weird but you take it as a compliment on your potion-making skills. "You alright there Ron?"

"Perfectly fine," He nods.

"Are you gonna eat something? We have class soon?"

"I'm not hungry,"

"Not hungry?" The volume of Hermione's voice catches you off guard. "When have you ever not been hungry, Ronald?"

"First time for everything Hermione," You take a sip of your water. All eyes were on Ron but he couldn't tear his away from you; that dopey grin never quite fading away. Was this how it was supposed to work? You had never seen it in action before. "I'll see you all at lunch " You announce, rising from the table. "I forgot my quill again this morning and I can't keep pretending I remember the stuff I'm being taught."

"How many classes do you have today?" Harry calls out before you can leave. You'd think he'd know your schedule by now. "I was thinking we could practice some potions later?"

"She has two," Hermione answers for you.

"Today pretty quiet for me usually but I have a study session later with Luna. She's helping me in care of magical creatures sorry," You flash a tight smile. "Maybe next time."

You had one class this morning and then one straight after lunch. Your free periods were supposed to be spent studying considering you were taking five N.E.W.T classes but you've never been one to study when you don't have to. Thinking on it, you probably could have studied with Harry in your free period before lunch but you think he has class then. The morning class is over before you know it and you're heading back to your dorm for a well-deserved nap when you practically crash into a none other than a Weasley.

"Watch where you're going, Ron."

His expression immediately brightens and he stands a little taller. "Oh, it's you, hey."

"Hello," Ron was a pretty awkward guy on the best of days but this felt weirder. A small, awkward smile settles on your lips. "Don't you have a class right now?"

"Mhmm," He nods but doesn't move nor continue talking.

"Ooookay then, well... I'm gonna go." You slide by him and scamper away. "I'll see you in a little bit."

When you imagined him under the influence of a love potion you expected less creepy staring but maybe he was just working his way up to it.

After a very short nap, that kept getting interrupted you're sat in the great hall waiting for classes to end and lunch to officially begin. There were a decent amount of students, all doing their own thing. Meanwhile the Gryffindor table was practically empty other than Dean, who was sat at an angle on the other side of the table and a couple of seventh years. You'd gotten so bored while pretending to study that Dean had suggested playing a game; this is the third match to decide who comes out on top as the Hangman champion of this free period. Three letters in and none of them had been right. The wooden frame was already drawn and waiting for the stickman to be hung

"S?" You guess.

His head shakes as he draws a wonky circle to start the stickman's fate. "Sorry."

"... I maybe?"

"Finally you got one.," it was a ten letter word and he filled in the second and eighth letters With I's.

"Can you give me like a hint?"

"I'm not gonna help you beat me," Dean replies. "Hey, Harry,"

"Harry!" You greet brightly, turning to find him towering over you. "We're playing hangman, do you wanna join? I'm about to win."

"No, you're not-"

"Did you do something to Ron?" Harry cuts of Dean. You swallow hard. Busted... or maybe not. Your brow furrows as you focus on the curled edge of the parchment you had been playing on.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything, I've been with Dean for like the last hour."

"He just seems very interested in you all of a sudden. I thought it was a one-time thing this morning but I've had to suffer through two classes of him talking about how cute and dreamy you are."

"Ron has a crush on her?" Dean's tone was rather playful.

"Maybe he just realised how cool I am," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "H?"

"Where is Ron anyway?" Dean adds the letter H to the begging of the word. You still have no clue what the word is but thankfully your two other friends finally appear just in time to interrupt. You'd rather draw by forfeit then lose altogether. Ron nearly shoves Hermione out of the way just to sit down next to you.

"I missed you this morning,"

"Missed you too Ron," You pat him twice on the cheek.

"What did you do to him?" Hermione's eyes narrow in on you.

"Who?"

"Ron obviously," She huffs. "I bumped into in the hallway and he said he couldn't wait to see you."

"As his friend, I'm happy he's excited to see me," You counter, resting your head on his shoulder. "At least someone at this table appreciates how cool I am."

"You're awesome," Ron wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight side-hug "I think I may be in love,"

Dean giggles to himself but Hermione is anything but amused. "For goodness sake,  you can't be serious?"

"I'm very serious," He fights back, sounding almost offended but such an accusation. "In fact," a wave of regret washes over you as Ron gets up and climbs onto the bench in front of the now rather busy great hall. "I'm in love with-" you sink down as he shouts your name for everyone to hear. Mean snickers and playful giggles follow. You reach for his hand, tugging on his arm gently as to not hurt him.

"Sit down," you spit through gritted teeth. Heat rushing to your cheeks as if him announcing his love to everyone wasn't embarrassing enough already

You try to enjoy lunch as much as possible with Ron attached to your side. Hermione was relatively quiet but her harsh glare was enough to put you off starting anything with her. And so you mostly spoke to Harry and finished your game with Dean. The word was Hippogriff which you managed to guess before the final leg finished off the stickman. Thankfully, your next class provided a nice escape from Ron. However it couldn't stop the sly comments in the hallways and mean laughter. This joke was very quickly becoming anything but funny.

This continued into the next day, you were regretting spiking so much candy. Not to mention Hermione hadn't spoken to you since lunch yesterday and you couldn't figure out why exactly. Normally she gets a little annoyed at your silly jokes with Ron but she seemed really mad at you. And considering you share a dorm room, things were feeling very tense, to say the least.

Managing to slip away from Ron long enough for a quick conversation, you find your fellow Gryffindor sat alone having an early breakfast. "I said I wouldn't help you,"

"Huh?" You hadn't even asked her anything yet or sat down for that matter but at least she's talking to you again.

"You want my help right?" She meets your gaze as you take a seat. "What did you do?"

"I actually wanted to know what was wrong?" Which was very much true. "You seemed... upset yesterday. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Judging by the way he was all over you yesterday my guess is It was a love potion correct?" you're impressed that she managed to guess and so quickly too. "A strong one at that. That is the only way to explain him suddenly being in love with you."

"I'm offended that you don't think Ron could like me that way," The words came a little more defensively than intended. "am I really that bad?"

Hermione's face morphs through a sea of emotions finally settling on looking a little disheartened. You wonder what's going on in her pretty little head. "It's not that I don't think he could like you that way- maybe he does and that would be fine. You're..." She seems hesitant to continue, her head falling. "amazing. Just that's not what this is."

"You're right," You confirm, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. "Like always. I slipped him a love potion thinking it would be funny and now it's not."

"How can you be so reckless," Compared she seemed so delicate just moments ago, she quickly bounces back to scold you. "You know they're not allowed at school."

"Worth it," A small chuckle bubbles up from your throat. It had been a little funny and definitely embarrassing plus you got to test your skills so you weren't inherently regretting your decision. You just wish the effects would fade already. "I didn't learn the antidote and I'm not spending hours in the library again."

"It'll wear off soon enough, how much did you give him."

"I made like... a cauldron full but I don't know how much he consumed."

"So it's my understanding that you idiotically gave him a lot?"

Words mumbled by your juice, you nod to convey your answer.

"Then it'll take a while to wear off."

Ron slides up beside you, taking you by surprise. The juice comes back up in sputtering coughs. "Speak— of— the devil."

"Good morning my beautiful angel," Even you cringe at that one. Harry takes a seat on your left side. "Did you sleep well?"

"You should know, you were watching me this morning," Ron pulls you closer to him. When you awoke this morning, not only was Hermione already gone but it had been quite the surprise to find Ron had snook into the girl's dorms to be with you.

"You're so adorable when you're sleeping."

"If you'll excuse me, I can only handle so much nauseating sweetness," Hermione takes one sympathetic look at you and then scurries away like she can't handle being here any longer. Something was definitely off with her. Today was gonna be a long day...

How you longed for the weekend to come early as each class tortured you with new knowledge that had to be burnt into your brain. It didn't help that Ron was getting increasingly annoying; it was like he was incapable of being alone. After the school day finally ended, you retired to the common room; both the boys joined you. Harry was complaining about how much work he's been assigned from one class while Ron seemed happy to just be near you in any compacity. Which right now meant having his arm around you.

"Here," Hermione interrupts, dropping a plugged vial onto your lap.

"What is it?"

"An antidote." She was biting back an insult or an 'I told you so', you couldn't be sure but there was a hint of aggression behind her words.

"Drink this," Before you even have time to process, Harry is shoving the vial towards Ron.

"What is it?"

"I think you should try it," Ron doesn't even question the request when it comes from you. He takes the vial and downs it in one.  An unsure look is shared between you and Hermione but sure enough, Ron's goofy grin begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"I slipped you a love potion and you became obsessed with me." You answer. "It was funny at first but then you announced you were In love with me to the whole school."

"You think a love potion is the same as a comb that changes your hair?" The boy sank into the seat cushion, finally removing his arm from around your shoulders. "I don’t feel so good."

"He needs something to perk him up," Hermione states. If she knew that, she should have come prepared.

"He has candy hidden in his draws"

"Yeah... it's probably best if he gets rid of all that," You admit, getting up. "Wait here,"

It was only fair you provided something so you grab the last chocolate bar you had from your dorm room. "You shouldn't have messed with my hair." You declare, handing over the chocolate with an almost sad smile.

"Now you two can hopefully put this silly war to bed."

"Not likely," Your voice syncs with Ron's, and with it comes a genuine smile. It was nice he was back to normal.

"I have to get back at her."

"And how will you do that Weasley?" You drop back down next to him.

"I think I'll go back to the good old fashioned permanent marker while you sleep."

"Why would you tell me in advance?"

"Because you don't know when I'm gonna do it." He declares with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So now you'll be on edge waiting for it to happen."

In this situation, the equivalent to snitching to a teacher to prevent something from happening was to tell the only one opposed to this whole situation entirely. "Hermione tell him. You had no problem insisting I be the bigger person."

She simply rolls her eyes before turning to Weasley. "Ronald, Consider not retaliating especially with a permanent marker before one of you," she glances towards you; rightful so. "Goes too far."

"she started it," He protests, "I didn't sip her a love potion."

"You better not come anywhere near me with marker pens."

"Sometimes I think I'm talking to myself." And with that, she wonders off

"I'm watching you, Weasley," Now, you were going to have to keep a very close eye on him to assure you didn't wake up with a fake mustache or something. Jumping up you chase after Hermione.

"Thanks for helping." You fall into step with her. "I'd be lost without you."

"I know,"

"Wow. Modest." You mumble sarcastically before falling silent; unsure of how to approach the next question. "Do you like Ron by any chance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you like Ron?" You repeat. It was the only explanation you could come up with over why she would be so angry the last couple of days. "You seemed really upset since he's been all over me so I thought maybe it was like jealousy or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," She fires back. "I don't like Ron."

"I never imagined you two together but I think you'd be sweet," You comment, intentionally trying to get a rise out of her. Hermione sighs loudly as she comes to a stop.

"Ron is one of my best friends but I don't like him in that way," From a few steps away, you turn back to her. She's clutching a few books tightly against her chest, refusing to look at you. "I swear that I don't."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," She shrugs pathetically. "I just saw him all over you and I didn't like it. You're never normally like that together and he kept pushing me aside to get to you."

"I'm not following," You're honestly more confused than before.

She approaches you slowly, still unable to meet your gaze but her lips very softly connect with your cheek. "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker."

Her words spark a lightbulb. You've never done a double prank but perhaps now would be a good chance. You could do it to him before he gets the chance to do it to you.

"Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?"

With a heavy sigh, she simply states her favourite word "No!"

"But-"

"No." Hermione continues walking and you're left watching her.

"Hey," You call out. "Do you wanna head down to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy you a butterbeer to say thank you."

"You just want to visit the joke shop, don't you?"

"Desperately," She always could see right through you. "But still. I want to go- just you and me."

"I would like that," She finally meets your gaze and she looks happier now. The almost set sun, casting her in such a warm, welcoming glow. Hermione was a hard girl to figure out but that's what made her so interesting. "I was hoping to get a new quill anyway."

[yusuke96universe]

Turles and Lord Slug Team Up Pitch

Introduction

Hello guys, after watching MasakoX's What If Turles Turned Good parts 1 and 2 [which act more like an origin story for him within the frameworks of modern Dragon Ball similar to Super Broly] I thought I would share an old headcanon origin I had for another Dragon Ball Z movie Villain, Lord Slug and how it could make for an excellent part in this What If story that has captured my imagination. Also, it opens up a lot of potential avenues for ood DBZ storytelling.

I know he's considered one of the most uninteresting Villains in the franchise since he is essentially King Piccolo from space, but rushed in an hour long movie. Let's face it, a lot of DBZ villains aren't inherently interesting characters and usually are introduced as Pure Evil tropes

Trope Talk: Pure Evil https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-XprjlATEo

Irrelevant backstory

very simple motivation

enthusiastic, zestful villainy

Pure self-confidence

Third -Act Breakdowns (where they are faced with what they truly fear and usually fail)

Afterward, they could be open to becoming a more nuanced character to explore as we've seen done time and again with cast of redeemed or evolved villains in Dragon Ball

A lot of the movie villains from the franchise would be more interesting if they weren't rushed or were expanded on and boy does Lord Slug bring a lot to the table if he is expanded on.

1) You could have Turles and Lord Slug form a dynamic duo that counterparts Goku and Piccolo. Turles is a trouble-making youth-filled underdog who has taken a shine to the crabby old man that is Slug. Turles could use a lot more modern methods to contrast Slug's far more traditional warmongering that he's developed over the centuries. (They did it a little in Xenoverse 2, but you could really expand upon it in a MasakoX styled What If) Plus, the Tree of Might likely has the ability to restore Lord Slug's youth since it canonically resurrected fossils, so Turles literally has the solution to Lord Slug's main problem plaguing him and is an open-minded businessman by nature. This hypothetical team-up of working together to gain more power, invade planets for their resources and overthrow the Universal order by killing Frieza before returning to enemies, acts as an inverse counterpart of Goku's and Piccolo's initial alliance against the Saiyans invading the Earth interfering with Piccolo's own conquest, but opened the doors for change in him and others.

2) Most likely these 2 would start off as enemies and have their forces face off against one another, but this struggle is a good thing in the long run because they could potentially provide each other, their own personal Third Act Breakdowns or at least teach each other recognize their own flaws and weaknesses to help each other grow as characters.

Lord Slug's backstory, retooled

Planet Slug

The most fun thing I found was that they gave Turles a proper origin story to build a character around, well I have a suggestion for a similar concept for Lord Slug that I think you guys could use in many different ways, but before that. Here are the facts. In the backstory I found in supplemental materials, it is stated by Guru that Lord Slug and other Evil Namekians could have possibly escaped the crisis on Namek and moved to far-flung planets in other parts of the Universe. One Super Namekian named himself after the Demon inhabited world he found himself on, known as Planet Slug. And judging from the movie, Planet Slug is most likely an icy or snow-covered planet since the Demons needed special suits to withstand the Earth's temperature.

By the way, I imagine that Planet Slug and its people could have a Mongolian theme. (I have a sketch I did for an alternate costume for Slug, but I don't remember how to post atm)

If say Lord Slug came to this planet and eventually took it over in the King Piccolo style, then I could see him having birthed a clan of Evil Namekian children to help him in this endeavor. So let's say there are about as many Namekians children as Guru or King Piccolo birthed, then they are likely different clans of Namekians on the Planet, including a Dragon Clan member capable of creating their own set of Dragon Balls. In this way, Planet Slug could act as an alternate substitute for Planet Namek, but one closely resembling how the team initially pictured Namek as a planet full of evil Piccolos, instead of the peace-loving farmers of Namek. Now, why would Slug be in space expanding his Empire and searching for Dragon Balls when his planet likely already has a set? In the movie, it's best not to think about it, but here is my idea.

Why Lord Slug is REALLY in Space

One of Lord Slug's offspring usurped him from the throne due to his old age and sickly body. So Slug was humiliatingly forced to flee his home or was looked down on as a non-threat banished him and his most loyal men off-world to live in shame and to never be seen again. So he is conquering other planets, partly because he is a refugee, but mostly because he is overcompensating for his lost and trying to help his ego by living in denial and reassuring that He is the Baddest Baddie who ever lived and terrorize/kill those weaker than him as he ever expands his empire, lamenting his old age and sickened body. He believes that if he was in his prime, he could take his throne back no problem and make them all pay for wronging him. Luckily, Slug doesn't need the Dragon Balls to regain his youth. If the Tree of Might's Fruit is capable of reviving fossils, it should be able to restore the Super Namekian to his former glory once again.

Turles's Crusher Corps vs Lord Slug's Army

A fun way they could introduce the factions to each other is as competition for a lush planet. Turles wants it for the Tree of Might, and Slug wants to freeze it for them for their conquest. They both are in each other's way, so they all fight it out. I think Slug has stronger minions, but Crusher Corps have better teamwork, and with Turles being in prime fighting condition, he would tip the scale in their favor much like Goku did in the movie.

At first, I thought Slug wouldn't be much of a match for Turles in his old and sickly state, a little trouble sure since he is the strongest, but that aged body wouldn't do him any favors. However, the first Google search result I got on Old Slug's Power level said he was at 79,000 so he's stronger than I first thought. (I thought he was around Nail's power level roughly in the 40,000) I also heard that Turles was around 19,000 but by the end of the movie was like 300,000. These power levels don't mean too much when reimagining the stories, just that Turles might have more of an uphill struggle. So, Turles would first have to eat some Fruit to win in a landslide and hopefully, the Terrafreezing process didn't ruin the Tree of Might's process.

Right before the killing blow, Old Slug might've mentioned something In desperation to save his own life. He could've brought up the Dragon Balls on his home Planet Slug/ Namek could grant any wish he wanted. This is just enough to stop Turles from following through with his attack, but it takes a little more coaxing for Slug to sell the legitimacy to Turles. A part of Turles thinks this might just be hogwash, but if this is anything like the Tree of Might, this could be a huge find. Another game-changer. He has his men take Slug with them as he checks in with the Heaters' database and finds there could be a kernel of truth to this tall tale. So Turles generously spares the old Slug's life for this useful tip which is met with some impatient ire.

If you hate being old so much, why don't you just use these Dragon Balls of yours to make yourself young again? -Turles

I would if I could, but... but I can't. I've been banished from my homeworld by my own children after they usurped me from my throne.-Slug

hahaha So you're just some washed-up old geezer trying to feel tough by throwing your power around at a bunch of weaklings. -Turles

Watch it! If I was in my prime, I wouldn't have ever let that rebellion get that far and even made short work of you and your men. If it weren't for that Fruit of yours, you'd be nothing. -Slug

WHAT WAS THAT. (composes himself) Interested in the Fruit are you, well I am not naive enough to let you ever sink your rotten teeth in one. At least, not for free. We, the Crusher Corps, are branched off of the Heaters' group who are known to deal in intelligence. If you have some more valuable information to pass on then, I could be convinced to trade off a leftover Fruit from our latest venture. Do you have anything else to offer me, old man?

(Slug’s low growling sounds are giving Turles just the biggest shit-eating grin on his face)

Slug could tell Planet Slug's coordinates, could act as their guide, or how to use their Dragon Balls, or even that they need a native speaker to use them and a password.

Turles throws him a Fruit as he is a businessman and honors his deals. This not only works in reviving the Elder Namekian, but the results are far better than expected by restoring Slug to his prime. Turles is both impressed and a little unnerved by this so he opens up a dialogue as he scans Lord Slug's new power. (he thought it would add a few decades back onto his old life since he seemed ancient, but it straight up made him young again) They discuss what had just happened and Turles's operation using the Tree of Might's Fruit to amass enough power for him and his men to kill Frieza and possibly overthrow him. Lord Slug in the meantime has been enjoying his youthful appearance and renewed vigor during the conversation, not looking Turles in the eye, but still expressing interest in this operation and compliments the plan. Turles offers a proposition to Lord Slug to join them on this endeavor if he helps them get those "Dragon Balls" he mentioned right before.

That's right. You're interested in the Dragon Balls, are you? Well, I am interested in that Tree of yours. It could keep someone young and strong forever, and this whole operation of yours is simply remarkable! -Slug

So you're in? -Turles

Remarkable enough for me to take it for myself! So I'll be doing just that! - Slug

Round 2 Super Namekian Rampages

The Super Namek overwhelms all of them, even Turles, after just eating a bunch of fruit, the gap is just too wide. He sadistically tortures them and strikes fear into their hearts. Turles isn't just put on the backfoot, he ends up on the brink of life and death. He needs to reach down deep, and something in him snaps, could be his Saiyan pride, could be becoming helpless and at someone else's mercy, could even be one of his men, that unbeknownst to himself, he had grown fond of perished, his regret for overly relying on outside gains to accomplish his ambitions. Don't know, don't care, but something doesn't sit right with Turles and this something acts as the catalyst for him to transform, but not into the traditional Super Saiyan we've all come to know. No, Turles goes into the False Super Saiyan state and overwhelms the Super Namek almost beat for beat like FSSJ Goku vs Slug from the movie, but this time, it lasts the duration of the fight. It's more of a SSJ Goku vs Frieza kind of fight with Turles's victory.

Turles diet of Tree of Might fruit has affected his body's genes and so when he transforms it's not the traditional SSJ form like everyone else, but the False Super Saiyan state that Goku used against Lord Slug. (The Saiyan loses their pupils and also uses SSJ's original color scheme with the flickering red and black hair and the orange skin with a lingering Aura effect) They could have a lot of fun with the benefits and drawbacks this form and its potential evolutions could have. False SSJ potentially falls into the theme of using Fruit as a shortcut to power vs earning the power legitimately or as a simple means to contrast with Goku.

Post Fight ~ Alliance?

Slug doesn't die though, or if he does, Turles is smart enough to revive him with the Tree of Might's extract in a similar way as the fossilized twins were. The reason is simple, Turles believes that Slug's knowledge of his people is going to be essential in the nearby future, and since he's shown whose boss by dominating the Super Namekian, they can now work together to overthrow stronger enemies like Frieza by using his Planet's Dragon Balls. The Crusher Corps gets a guide and an ally; Slug gets his revenge and the prospect of taking Frieza's empire for himself by joining this operation is too much for him to pass up. This is a temporary truce to defeat stronger opponents and gain power, but once that is over, they are going back to killing one another similar to how Goku and Piccolo formed an alliance against the Saiyans invading earth.

1) A Super Namekian could exploit their race's fusion ability through some method of Mind Control like in the original Broly movie. So Slug or his evil offspring could literally absorb one another or even someone as powerful as Nail or Piccolo if the influence is strong enough to join together. And Turles with the Heaters' resources might just be able to provide a means to provide Slug this, with some precautions of course.

2) Slug might have knowledge of Kai and Demon Realms considering he is both an older Namekian like Guru, and the fact that he Planet Slug is literally inhabited by Demons, a different breed of Demons, but still Demons nonetheless. In the games, the Tree of Might's Fruit had its effects amplified in the Demon Realm, but the same might be said if the Tree is planted on the World of the Supreme Kais or Beerus' planet. It's just a possible option for later down the line, but if there was ever a planet that could sustain that Tree and boosts its effects it would be one of these places.

This is it, I know MasakoX likes to do the space opera thing with multiple factions and also like to mix things up from the original story from time to time, so I thought Planet Slug would be an interesting means to do so and giving Turles a partner to bounce off of is typical Toriyama writing, could even open up new avenues to explore.

Am I expecting this to happen. Honestly, I have low expectations MasakoX and his team would do this and they got their own plans of inserting Turles into the main story likely connected to the character in the hood (who is probably Zamasu for some reason like in the Gero What If) or one of the Saiyans from Turles' team or even eager to get him into the main story with the Z-Cast, possibly trying to win Gohan to his side, but getting converted by him like what happened to Piccolo, but I don't mind. My expectations are low, but my hype is through the roof, and needed to share my fan theories with someone.