#i really like each character's themes and whenever i see new content about them i want to customize it around that- AND THE PROCESS REPEATS

[darabeatha]

/ To merge my other idv muses into my Matthias blog or to make a multi that is the question

[ambrosialdesire]

inamorato

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: modern au!eren x fem!reader word count: 9.4k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, implied stalking, mentions of violence, implied noncon, soulmates au (red string of fate), bully & bad boy eren (pretty sure this is ooc lol), eremika mention, implied jean x reader, implied armin x reader, childhood friends to enemies, bullying, victim-blaming, cheating (soulmate cheating & actual cheating), underaged drinking (18-19 year olds partying & drinking), forced kissing, slight groping, blood mention, all characters are 18+ synopsis: when you were a child, you were told that you'd soon be connected to your soulmate, the partner you'd spend the rest of your life with. however, your hope began to run dry once you've gotten older and gotten over the idea of soulmates, especially when the man that you had to spend your life with forever is eren jaeger. a/n: wanted to try this idea out so i could do a refresher of my mind for the third part of the cacoethes series. hope it's a decent read for y'all, this was kind of a practice exercise so it's kind of a mess lol note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

You were nine years old when it happened.

It was a few months before your ninth birthday when the Jaegers moved into the vacant house right in front of yours, the moving vans occupying the street for quite some time. From the window, you'd watch groups of people haul in boxes and furniture into the home until they finally left. The family had four members, the parents and two sons, one older and one younger.

Your parents told you to try and make friends with that younger son. He was fresh meat after all, he had to be scared of being the new kid on the block. You promised them that you would, that you'd do your best to make him feel comfortable here.

At the time, you were pretty scared to approach the family. The dad —who you learned was a doctor — had a frightening demeanor to him compared to his wife, her eyes kind as she waved at you from across the street whenever you were outside. You've noticed that the older son didn't really look like them, his blond hair a stark comparison to their dark brown hair; you eventually found out that he was the child of the dad's first marriage, rumors from other neighbors said that it was an unhappy one because they didn't "belong" to each other. He had to be at least four or five years older compared to you, so he wasn't interested in chit-chatting with you. When you knocked on the door to invite the younger son to play, he hid behind his mom, his hand gripping at her long skirt. What was fascinating about him that you've noticed first was his teal-green eyes that peeked out from behind when she coaxed him out to meet you.

"Hi! My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you!" You greeted with a toothy smile, putting your hand out for him to shake.

"Eren." He took your hand and you tugged him out of the doorway to play. From there on out, it was like the two of you were inseparable.

Eren began to open up the more you played with him, seeing a more confident shine to him as the days went by. He'd innocently mess with you a lot, in a teasing and playful manner of course. One time, he found a wriggling earthworm in the rain-soaked dirt from the storm the day before and showed it off, soon chasing after you when he realized that it was scaring you. His mom gave him an earful when she found out about it and you felt really bad, sneaking a pack of gummy worms to him the day after.

He'd get himself in trouble a lot and when there was trouble, he'd always get hurt. If you looked back at it, there wasn't a day where you didn't see him with heaps of bandages attached to his skin or without a bloody nose. He said that he got them from protecting you but there wasn't really any known threats to a little eight year old you. You never questioned it once before, instead thanking him for protecting you like a knight would do for a princess.

You never realized it then that Eren wasn't the knight in your story, the almighty protector of your heart.

The two of you were the best of friends, the partners in crime of Maria Meadows Street. However, you started to hear the neighbors talk about how disappointing it would be if Eren wouldn't end up to be your soulmate. Confused on what that meant, you went to your parents about what that word was.

They sat you down the day before your birthday and explained what soulmates were. They told you that when you turned nine, maybe even ten, you would start to see a red string wrapped around your ring finger. It would be faint — fading in and out from sight — and sometimes there would be a slight tugging whenever you were too far from the one you were destined to. Destiny.

You held onto their words, excited to see that very string fastened around your finger. The thought of soulmates kept you up that night, silly little questions and concepts popping up. Who would they be? What would they be like? Would they like the same things as you? They better like sprinkles and strawberry milk but they better not like onions and brussels sprouts.

When you awoken, you checked your hand immediately, a giddy scream waking up the entire house. A bright red string was tied at the base of your ring finger, the other end of it free-floating in the air. It went through the wall towards the Jaeger household and when you checked outside your window to see how much further it went, it ended up going through their house. Before you could even question where it was going, the string faded from sight, and you went to your parent's bedroom to express your newfound joy about seeing the soulmate string.

The Jaegers were invited to your birthday party of course, but you weren't able to see them come in due to your relatives pulling you around to see how tall you've gotten and whether or not you got the string. It was a wonderful and fun time getting to see them again but your mind never left the thought of playing with Eren before getting to the cake. But you were never able to reach him, too busy catching up with your cousins.

When it was time to blow out the candles, your string popped up again, your eyes following its floating path and landing on the finger of no other than Eren Jaeger. You screamed out that it was him, that he was your soulmate — because what kid wouldn't express their initial surprise out loud — and his face suddenly burned a bright red.

Eren ran out before the happy birthday song started and you chased after him, following him to the secret spot that the two of you found. There was a clearing in the woods that sat behind the neighborhood block, dipping down into a slow-streaming creek; you started sharing it with him when he got in trouble with his mom again a few weeks ago. No one was able to stop either of you as your figures disappeared into the bushes.

You caught up to him, grabbing at the back of his t-shirt and questioning why he suddenly ran away when he started to angrily yell at you. He asked why did you have to tell everyone about it, saying that you made him feel ashamed. You apologized to him, you were just surprised that it was him!

It was meant to be right from the start, right when you held his hand and pulled him out of his house, but he thought otherwise. You tried to convince him to come back with you, but before you realized it, he pushed you into the creek. You landed on a group of stones and he caused your adorably coordinated birthday outfit to get completely soaked and dirtied. Tears started to streak down your face as Eren finally yelled out:

"I don't wanna end up with you! I don't even like you!"

Those words completely shattered your world. You got from the creek and ran home, facing your worried parents completely dirtied and sobbing heavily. Eren didn't come back to his home for a while, you knew that it was because he was going to be in deep trouble, but his parents apologized to yours for his behavior and apologized to you for messing up your party. It wasn't the only thing that Eren messed up.

After that day, you stopped going to the Jaeger house to see him, your string tugging frustratingly. Eren didn't even make the same effort to see you either. His mom went over to your house and asked if you would like to attend his birthday a month after your b-day party, but you politely declined, crying into your pillow afterwards. As quickly as your friendship came, it ended just as fast. His attitude towards you didn't get better either, it had only gotten worse. When school started, the hope that you originally had of him coming back to you started to slowly die out year after year.

He wasn't in the same classes as you luckily for the remainder of elementary school, but he had made two more friends. Mikasa, a shy girl who clung to his side like you had once done, and Armin, a smart boy who seemed too nice to be hanging around someone like him. It was an odd trio but they weren't as nice as they seemed, turning a blind eye whenever Eren started to push you around during recess.

You'd come home with scraped hands and knees, sniffling and trying to hide it from your parents. When the school staff was watching, he'd whisper nasty things to you, things like how much he hated having to be your soulmate and if he could, he would cut the string between the two of you. One time, he told you while pushing you into the blacktop that he wished that the two of you never became friends in the first place. To you back then, that broke your heart completely.

The teachers knew that you and him were soulmates — the town you lived in was small enough to get word around — so they just believed his teasing was just what boys usually do when they have a crush. Why did they ignore the fact that he was hurting you severely?

Middle school wasn't easy either, he treated you even worse than before. He resorted to pulling your hair when you were walking to class, snickering when the force of it nearly made you fall over. He'd trip you, spit at you, make you buy him snacks for him and his friends with the money that was supposed to be for your lunch. He'd threaten you that if you went to counselors or the administration, he'll make your life even more of a living hell. The tiny part of you that still loved him gnawed at your insides but what he was doing to you wasn't right. Because of him, you were never able to make friends. The whole grade knew that Eren was your bully and left you alone, not wanting to be involved with the trouble he was causing.

The bullshit reasoning that he'd tell you was because soulmates were supposed to be willingly take everything the other dishes out. It was stupid, the only thing you've done to him was call out in front of his and your family that he was your soulmate. It wasn't fair. He can't just use that excuse whenever he wants when he always stated that he never wanted to be with you in the first place.

One day in the eighth grade, you had it with his torment. It was in the winter, snow had already built up everywhere. You were walking home all bundled up, he and his lackeys close behind. Trying to ignore Eren's laughing, you quickened your pace until he grabbed your backpack from behind. You told him to let go but he smirked, ripping it off of your back. He rummaged through it while you were held back by Mikasa — she was crazy strong for a thirteen year old — your eyes widening as he suddenly tossed your homework and notebooks into the dirty melted snow.

You don't remember how you got out of Mikasa's hold, your blood running hot as you ran and jumped onto Eren, the two of you falling hard to the ground. When you lifted your fist, you felt your string draw taut as if it was a string of a bow and once it was released, you started to punch his face. The commotion stirred the neighborhood and you had to be torn off of him, screaming about how much you hated his guts and how he treated you like trash. Your knuckles were all bruised up and sore, he ended up with a black eye, a bunch of bruises and open wounds around his face. Those injuries were minute than the pain he caused you for years.

After that, Eren left you alone. The two of you never apologized about what had happened, you knew he wasn't sorry and neither were you. He never went back up to you to make fun of something you were wearing or ask for money for his favorite chips, it was like he was a total stranger. You gladly wanted to keep it that way.

Since Eren stopped bothering you, high school was better. There was finally a peace of mind. You passed though freshman, sophomore, and junior year in flying colors. You were able to make new friends, better ones than him.

One friend was someone that you never thought you'd be friends with. Armin went up to you in junior year, apologizing for how he ignored how Eren treated you. Better late than never, you supposed.

He asked if the two of you could somehow be friends. It bothered you since he was still known to be a part of his clique, so you told him that it would be best if the two of you started as acquaintances. To your surprise, he agreed and respected your wishes. He didn't push much besides sharing class notes and studying tips since he was usually in the same classes as you. He really shouldn't be friends with him, you still didn't understand why he still considered him one when he knew that he was a good-for-nothing asshole.

Otherwise than that, you tried avoiding Eren the minute you stepped foot in the school, taking advanced classes so you wouldn't see those teal-green eyes glaring holes in the back of your head. Going on different paths to class and eating in hidden areas during lunch were more cheap tactics you did to ensure that you'd never see him ever again, and for a long time, it worked. You were happily thriving, unlike him.

It was known that he was the so-called "bad-boy" of Shiganshina High. You've also heard that he was currently dating Mikasa and was an insane partygoer. He got into fights, eventually causing and winning enough of them to be called the "Shiganshina Devil". You knew that his parents had to have constant headaches with the amount of trouble he was getting himself into.

It was truly frightening to see where he had ended himself up at, how your paths diverged immensely. You also heard that he wasn't doing too bad in his classes so they haven't expelled him yet, you could only assume that it was because of his father.

A few more months before the end of the senior year, he was coming out of juvenile detention for the supposed fifth time since being in high school. After years of never seeing him, there he was standing in your ceramics elective class introducing himself. The staff thought a peaceful class would subdue his "violent" tendencies until they make him graduate, but not when you were going to be in it, fate had it out for you.

He looked different, your string tugging as you gawked at him in shock. Eren was taller — back then, you used to be a few centimeters taller and he complained about it when the two of you were still friends — and he was now considerably more muscular under the leather jacket he wore. His brown hair grew out to the point where he tied it back messily in a bun, strands still sticking out in the front of his face. His ears were covered in silver piercings and when he spoke, the glint of a tongue piercing stuck out. Rings wrapped around his long fingers, though his left ring finger was strangely left bare.

He had a tired and bored expression, his eyes wandering the classroom until they met yours. They widened slightly but relaxed after the teacher told him to take the empty seat in the back. The empty seat that just had to be right by you.

Eren sat right next to you, immediate tension growing in the air. You refused to acknowledge him, he would not ruin this for you. He seemed to ignore you as well, twirling around the necklace that hung low against his chest. The teacher was rambling about the best methods in which you should attach the pieces of clay workings together and when you were writing down the notes, in the edges of your vision, you saw teal-green observing you. You bit your tongue, turning your attention back to the teacher.

"You look different." He spoke quietly under his breath, his voice deeper. His tone was bluntly precarious, testing the waters as if you were the threat. You shuffled uncomfortably, the grip on your pencil tightening.

"Right back at you." You muttered, writing once more. If you looked at him right now, you were afraid of what your heart might think when your brain was definitely thinking the opposite. A light chuckle was heard and stupidly, your heart skipped a beat. The reappearance of the red string made your finger twitch, his eyes taking notice.

You almost yelped aloud as he suddenly grabbed your hand, his fingers carefully caressing the area where it was tied. You abruptly recoiled your hand away from him, holding it close to your chest in numb shock. You finally looked at him dumbfounded, seeing a smile grow on his face. That very smile that meant trouble was brewing in his head, how could you ever forget that cruel grin.

"There's my favorite face." What the hell?

The bell rang and you hurriedly gathered your items, getting out of the room before he could catch up with you. You couldn't let him see the flush that grew on your face and you couldn't let him back into your life. On the upside, this class was the only one you were forced to see him in. Just grin and bear with it until graduation.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

"Are you serious!?" Both of your shoulders were suddenly gripped together as you stared at your best friend with a tight-lipped smile.

"Dead serious."

"Dude you're never making it out alive, your soulmate is literally the monster of this school." You pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyance rising the more you thought about Eren.

"It's the only class I see him in Jean, I'll live."

"You might think that but then he'll suddenly shank you from the behind with a piece of hardened clay," He pretended to stab at your side, tickling you instead. "What will I do if my dear friend dies under the hands of the Shinganshina Devil?"

You jokingly rolled your eyes from his dramatics, pulling away from his hands. "Don't say that corny ass title, just call him Eren. And besides, you have Connie and Sasha and Marco to entertain. I'll genuinely be fine. As long as I ignore him, he should leave me alone."

He frowned and you could tell that he was still worried, patting his hands gently. "I promise that if he does give me trouble, I'll go to the office. He doesn't have any power here because of his reputation, they're more likely to believe me than him."

Jean finally let out an exasperated huff and stuck out his pinky in front of you.

"Cross your heart?"

You wrapped yours around his, solidifying the promise.

"Hope to die."

You met Jean in your English class during sophomore year, back then you've only knew him as one of the quarterbacks on the football team. You didn't know much about football in general but he was the one that approached you first at your locker, asking for help on one of the essays that was due in a week.

He told you that you were known as the "smarty-pants" in class so he swallowed his pride because this was the only class he was having trouble in. You laughed at his face — apologizing to him shortly after wiping your tears away — explaining that you thought English was the most basic and easiest subject to get through. His face turned red and he started backing out of the conversation, arguing with you that it was far from easy. You refuted back about how could he mess up the first language he learned, leaving him stunned for a minute, then asking grumpily if you were going to help him or not. Grabbing the paper from his hands, you agreed to assist with the assignment.

From there, you learned that he wasn't just a sport-focused jock, he was authentic and enjoyed art more than football, doing the sport only because his dad made him. He was sweet and funny, dependable when you needed it. He was the shoulder that you needed to cry on those many years ago and soon enough, you confided in him about your soulmate.

Jean let you rant about it, deeply listening about how much suffering you had to go through just because you made an innocent little announcement about how Eren was going to be with you forever. He told you that it wasn't your fault, that you were just a kid, Eren was just a brat that didn't appreciate what he had and consequently took it out on you with his own insecurity. He told you everything that you needed to hear. Your parents and past teachers have always told you that in time, he'd realize that he loved you but there was never any progress. Why give all those hopeless dreams to that little girl?

If there was ever a chance to choose your soulmate, Jean Kirschtein would be the first pick. Whoever he was fated to was surely lucky.

The two of you let go of the pinky promise, his hand dropping down to his side until his eyes suddenly narrowed behind you. He grabbed you and held you to the side of the lockers, as if he was trying to hide you.

"Speak of the devil."

You partially snorted at the joke, turning your head and seeing Eren walking with Mikasa at his side. She had taken a darker gothic look to her when she reached high school, you didn't know whether it was because of her boyfriend's style or just the style she chose to wore. Either way, she still looked scarily good.

"I really can't see how they're still together when he's so shitty." Jean leaned in and whispered in your ear as they passed by.

"She's been like that since elementary school, she's just that in love with him." You whispered back and he made a face.

"Even if she knows that you're his soulmate?" The tug of your string reminded you of the fate you weren't able to change, teeth clenching.

"Soulmate or not, I don't belong to him. And it's not like I'm being cheated on, I'm not going to wait for someone that never liked me in the first place." As you bitterly responded, you watched the two disappear down the hallway, Mikasa kissing his cheek before the doors closed in on them.

If Eren wanted her, it was fine by you. He's established that he'd never love you and that wasn't going to ever change.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

"Horse-boy huh," Eren flicked a piece of balled paper in your direction, landing it right in front of your notebook while you were writing. "Expected better from you."

You promptly ignored him, brushing off the paper ball and trying to focus on your education rather than the nuisance next to you. Jean did not look anything resembling a horse, unless he was poking fun at his athletics. He didn't take your silence kindly however, hearing his tongue click quietly. You could feel his presence lean in close to you, his voice dropping down to a whisper.

"You guys fucking?" If your pencil was wooden, it would've broken from the amount of pressure you were putting on it. What a weirdly personal question to ask someone. And a disgusting one at that, especially towards the person he'd used to knock around for shits and giggles.

You wondered if you said yes, he'd leave you alone but you didn't want Jean get roped into this. Shooting a glare at him, you shrugged him away, going back into writing your notes. You heard a huff from him but he moved away, his clothes shuffling.

The both of you sat quietly for a while until the teacher announced that the final piece will be in partners due to budget cuts, but the partners would be the person you sat next to. Your heart sank deeply into the pit of your stomach and without even looking, you could imagine the smug smirk that his face had.

"Lucky me, at least I’m seated with someone I know."

"You don’t know me," You bluntly stated, irritatingly shoving your notebook into your backpack before the bell rang. "And let's keep it that way. All we will do is talk in this class and do our work, that's it."

Eren watched you get up, a stupid smirk still on his face. He got up and towered over you, his nefarious teal-green stare matching up to your irked glower. Your stomach twisted as you saw your reflection in the color, a cold sweat running down your back. How funny it was that after all these years, part of you was still terrified of him.

"Deny it as much as you like Y/N, there's no one who knows you better than your soulmate."

The bell ringing was like music to your ears and like yesterday, you got out of there as fast as possible. He's so scummy for thinking that he still can use it against you. Opening your phone on the way to your next class, you checked your email to see if any colleges had answered your admissions. They were mostly all out-of-state because you couldn't stand the thought of seeing Eren in any of the in-state ones.

"Y/N! Thank God you came out alive." A body collided into yours, a small oof coming out of you.

"I towld ou I'd be fwine." You replied, words muffled from being crushed into his chest. Jean finally pulled away, jokingly hitting you over the head.

"That doesn't make me worry any less."

A smile grew on your face as he rested a hand on your shoulder, the thoughts of Eren washing away. When the storm dissipated, the sun was always there to dry all the worries away. He was about to walk you to your next class when both your name and Jean's was called out, the dread coming back.

"I thought I wasn't able to catch up with you Y/N, you should try out for track and field." He panted dramatically, hands resting on his knees. Standing back up, he smugly grinned down at you. "Actually you can't anymore huh, since it's our last year in high school."

"What do you want Jaeger?" Jean spoke up for you, pulling your body closer to his protectively by the waist. You hoped that he didn't feel how hard your heart was beating right now. His eyes darted from one to the other, an eyebrow raising as if he put two and two together.

"I wanted to know why you keep hanging around my soulmate." The more he said that, the more of a migraine was forming.

He scoffed in response, rolling his eyes. "As if you can say anything, you're literally going out with Mikasa. Or did you suddenly forget that?"

You felt like you could see the tension between them, sparks of electricity flying off of each other's stares. The more he gets involved, the higher probability he'd end up as his next "meal". That's what you've heard others say about the fights he gets into, as if he was the top carnivore in the food chain.

"Jean, let's just go." Passively tugging at the side of his jersey, his eyes finally tore away from Eren's and the two of you started walking to your next class. Before the doors closed, you took one last glance back at him. He still had the smile and lifted up his left hand, waving at you.

In that moment, a flash of the red string revealed itself. There it was, wrapped around his empty ring finger. The doors closed, red fading away.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Two months or so passed by after that incident, graduation nearing with every day. Frustratingly, Eren hasn't been attending the ceramics class, which meant that you were alone working on the final project. Not that you mind, this was the best outcome possible but you hated the fact that he just left you to do all the grunt work. There was word that he gotten himself into another fight and that's why he was consistently absent, but you swore that you've been seeing him in the edges of your vision. Even when you weren't at school, there was a familiar feeling that he was right there. Yet, every time you assumed it was him and turned to look, he disappeared like a cloud of smoke.

You had to be losing it, there was no other explanation.

Finally being fed up with it, you approached Armin and asked where Eren was. He told you that he's been attending class the entire time. Every class except yours. Did the blockhead finally realize boundaries or something because he can practice that while attending ceramics. You weren't going to go beg for him to come back; if he wasn't going to come, whatever. That's his grade that he's fucking up.

In better news, Jean told you that a big graduation party was going on in his house after the ceremony — hinting at the fact that none of his parents would be in town — and you gladly took his invitation. You weren't the biggest party-goer in the first place but it would be nice to celebrate the end of your K-12 education. Plus, you haven't celebrated much in over ten years due to what happened with Eren, so it would also be something akin to a commemoration of a new beginning for you.

For the project, you decided to make a teapot with a set of two cups. Someone sat next to you while you were busy forming one of the teacups, your attention to the craft unwavering.

"No hello?" You nearly dropped the clay formation to the floor, your shoulders tensing. You took a slow breath before looking up at the person.

"Eren."

His hand reached over and started playing around with a loosened strand of your hair that you didn't tie up. He wasn't wearing the leather jacket anymore — the late April weather most likely prevented him from using it — and had on a fitted white t-shirt instead. Your eyes wandered to his well-knitted upper arms, seeing layered designs inked into his tan skin. Wow.

You quickly cleared your throat, turning back to your creation before he caught you staring.

"You've been ditching class."

He let out a soft chuckle, shrugging nonchalantly. "I've been busy. I told the staff that they should give me a free period around this time but they denied my request, telling me that my dad had a hand in the decision."

Would that be considered nepotism in Eren's case? His hand left your hair and trailed down your arm, feeling the cool rings slide down your skin. He smoothly grabbed the floral designed teacup from your hand while you were distracted with his touch, pulling it up to his face to observe it.

"I'm working on that, careful!" You scolded in exasperated tone, trying to grab it back from him. He scooted the chair away from you, still looking at the cup.

"You're only making this for our final?"

"My final, you haven't worked on anything since you ditched. And I already finished the teapot." He raised an eyebrow at you, handing it back to you.

"Then I'll do the other cup, that's your plan isn't it?" Eren removed each one of his rings and put them in his bag pocket. He then reached over and grabbed a handful of clay from the block, starting to knead it under his hands.

Wait. How did he know that? Your notes weren't currently out and he definitely hasn't been around you to see what you were making for the class. It could be an accurate guess of course, it wouldn't make sense for a tea set to have only one teacup.

"Fine, but it better look good. I'd rather not settle with a C in a simple art class, thank you very much."

The two of you sat in silence, focused on the project in each other's own hands. The atmosphere was... peaceful? Comfortable? There was still some sort of unease in the air, but there was something tranquil about it, in an odd way.

If you and Eren had never known each other in the past, perhaps there was a chance that the whole soulmate route could've worked out. Would he have ended up differently if you never had that outburst? You couldn't really imagine him alternatively from what he was now, it was difficult to think of him as anything but a bully.

Glancing over at what he was working on, you suddenly felt your heart flutter and string tighten. Eren formed the clay into a heart shape, the cup was still kind of rough in some areas but it was still cute regardless. He picked up a carving tool and started making designs on the side, straying from your intended design but nevermind that. It was nice he was putting in some effort for the final.

You watched him put the tool inside of the cup and carve something inside, settling it down afterwards.

"Done."

"Can I see what you did?" As you reached over, he seized your wrist with one clay-dirtied hand.

"Nope. Are you done with yours?" You sighed and nodded, pulling your hand out of his grip. In a flash, he grabbed yours and started carving inside of it. Internally you were screaming, thinking that he was going to ruin it but he handed it back to you afterwards in one piece. You took a look on the inside and on the bottom of the cup, there were his initials carved in.

E.J.

Irritation bubbled within you. Did he do that as some sort of ploy for credit? You carefully snatched his created cup, peering at the bottom. He didn't stop you, only observing. The original anger soon quickly dissipated, the feeling replaced with a stewing bittersweetness.

Eren wrote in your initials but your last name was a J instead. What was he trying to imply?

"Why did you...?" Speechlessly, you scanned his gaze with a puzzled complexion. What were you searching for, what did you even want to see? There was nothing but that empty teal-green abyss that you've woefully admired for years.

"You're fucking with me again, aren't you?"

You tried to not look as if all of your hope was given up all over again. Instead of physically harassing you, he's resorted to emotional and psychological tricks. Why did that hurt more than getting actually hit? You needed to stop forgetting that Eren was no longer that kid, that same kid you've chased around the hidden creek during the months where you still considered each other as companions.

You got up from your seat to clean off the dried clay from your hands, feeling it crumble and fall away just like the remaining pieces of your heart. You could feel tears well up when you knew it wasn't supposed to, letting out a quiet sigh out. This time around, all you were going to focus on was yourself, graduation, and Jean's party. No more Eren, no more soulmates, no more red string.

Just you.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

"Are you all ready to go absolutely crazy tonight?!"

You winced as the megaphone in Jean's hands blared in your ears, covering up the side of the ear where he was. The crowd cheered just as loudly as he did, Connie playing airhorns on the sound system to hype them up even more. You didn't expect the turnout to be this large but you shouldn't expect anything less from one of the most popular athletic students.

"Then let's make this a night to remember, Shiganshina graduates!" You watched him throw the megaphone in someone else's hands, then jump down from the stage that held the music booth, the crowd enveloping him with excited shouts and screams. You immediately lost him in the wave of people, sighing in amusement. You knew he was going to be fine but you would definitely find him later on clutching for life over a toilet.

Now, where to start your own version of a little celebration? Shoving yourself through, you entered the jam packed house, trying to apologize with every person you passed by. Suddenly, a hand grabbed you and pulled you through the clumped up bodies into a decently spaced out area.

"Armin?" The blond sheepishly smiled, raising a red solo cup as a greeting towards you.

"Thought you weren't the party-girl type."

"I thought you weren't even the type to party. Aren't you someone that only spends time locked up in their room with stacks of books?" He laughed, shaking his head.

"It seems that we both aren't like what we were supposed to be." He grinned and gave you his cup, tapping the kitchen counter to get Marco's attention. He handed him another solo cup, presumably with the same liquid as what he gave to you. You couldn't really tell what it was due to the party lights but when you pulled it up to your mouth, you could smell the scent of a very strong liquor.

Fuck it, why not. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, might as well get a little fucked up. It'll help you temporarily forget thinking about him all the time.

You took a quick little inhale and started downing the cup. You cringed as the sharp burn of alcohol went down your throat, feeling a little warm afterwards. Crushing the cup in one hand, you looked up at Armin with a crooked, flushed out smile.

"Another please."

Each drink came by in a blur, your mind melting and meshing together. You knew you were currently on the dance floor, probably in the backyard again, strangers' bodies rhythmically clashing into yours. Some loud music Connie put on was incoherently playing and you felt someone place their hands around your waist from behind, a tipsy giggle coming out of you. As you took a glance back, you were not surprised in the slightest on who your sudden dance partner was.

Armin was dancing behind you, a dark red blush already formed on the apples of his cheeks. His blue eyes hazily looked down at you and you turned around, playfully pulling him in towards you by his white button up. His hands never left the curves of your hips, almost barely lifting up your tank top and touching your bare skin. The warmth that was shared between your two drunk bodies was sweltering, the immense tension between each other growing with each sway and laugh.

There were rumors back in school on who his soulmate is. Some say he's Annie's but due to Bertolt being consistently around her, a handful were unconvinced. Very few said that it was Mikasa, another little group spread the joke around that Jean was his soulmate. At this moment, who cared?

Eren had been dating Mikasa for nearly four years, of course they had PDA before. You? You didn't even have your first kiss yet.

One part of you had always wanted to give your first kiss to Jean, but he was too dear for you to lose as a best friend. The other part of you, the little devil on your shoulder, wanted to be petty. To give something that was originally intended for a soulmate to his very best friend, it would be more than enough revenge for you.

Sliding your hand up his body to the curvature of his neck, you pulled him down to your level. You leaned in close to his face, the two of you panting from dancing. You never knew how lovely his blue eyes were as they shined under the colored lights, you were always too afraid too look at him back then.

Armin was the one that made the first move, pressing his lips against yours, his eyes closing as soon as contact was made. You returned his affections, your own eyes closing as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. Through his kiss, you could taste the bitterness of alcohol on his lips. His hands squeezed your hips, a shiver going through your entire body. He was gentle — not pushing for anything more — his soft lips finally leaving yours.

Your heart was beating hard as you gazed upon those eyes of his, swearing up and down that you had instantaneously felt butterflies nervously swirl around in your stomach. If Eren could date others, you can too. What was stopping you besides a flimsy ass string?

"Y/N, I—" Armin paused, his eyes connected with something behind you. They suddenly widened with a particular kind of fear, the red blush of his face immediately draining white. It seemed that he had sobered up, removing his body from yours and backing away in a frightened manner.

"I-I'm so sorry!" What?

He ran off, leaving you confused and with mixed emotions. You couldn't have been that bad at kissing right? Give yourself a break, it was your first kiss after all. Hands made their place on your shoulders, alarms beginning to blare in your head. Before you could turn to see who it was, one hand shot up and wrapped around your mouth while the other quickly went around your waist, forcefully pulling you back.

You struggled hard, trying to fight against the stranger that was kidnapping you but the alcohol in your system made it difficult to do much. The other partygoers seemed to not notice you, either too drunk off their asses or maybe even high off of something.

Without much thought, you began to bite down on the person's fingers as hard as you possibly could. They yelled out in pain and let you go, your body falling to the concrete. You winced as you felt your knees and hands scrape against the coarse rocks. Before you were able to get up, they grabbed your arm and lifted you back up to your feet, slamming you against the wall. A hand pressed one of your shoulders firmly against the textured brick, keeping you trapped.

"Ten years later and you're still a fucking bitch." A chill ran down your entire body, sobering reality hitting like a truck. Those piercing eyes glimmering in the party lights glared down at you coldly, a grimace on his face.

"It takes one to know one," You spat back in reply. "Last time I checked, Jean didn't invite you."

Eren suddenly started laughing, shaking his head. You were stunned in disbelief, he thinks this is some kind of joking matter?

"You think a little paper invite is gonna stop me from coming? God, I don't even know how they let you into the honor roll with that mind of yours."

Your face grew hot and you shoved his hand off of your shoulder. This party was supposed to be your way of forgetting about him. He can't keep showing out the blue right when you were moving on and focusing on better things in your life.

"What do you even want Eren?"

He stopped laughing, his gaze growing more intense as he looked down at you. You suddenly felt like you were shrinking the more he stared down at you in distaste.

"It's a funny story actually, I wanted to get drunk as any other person here but then I saw my whore of a soulmate sucking face with my best friend right in the middle of the crowd," It was your turn to feel the color drain from your own face. "It's really funny, isn't it? She's so desperate for my attention, she'd give her own body to anyone who's asking, even if it's someone like Armin."

You shoved him back, his body colliding into the wooden fence behind him. You were trembling, fists shakily balling up.

"For your information, Armin kissed me first. And you know damn well that you out of all people, have no right to call me a whore. I don't even know where to begin with how much you've treated me like shit either." You started to let loose everything you wanted to say to him, tears welling up and dripping down your cheeks. He stood up, his head down and face unreadable as you continued to chew him out.

"And how fucking dare you! Why still consider me as 'soulmate property' when all you've been doing for years is torture me?!"

Maybe it was the alcohol still circulating in your body that was making you too emotional, but in the first time in forever, you sobbed in front of him. Eren stood quietly as you sniffled, swiping your wrists over your wettened cheeks.

"There's nothing you can fix Eren, this string hasn't done anything but torment us. What ties us together isn't love, it never has been and it never will be." You wanted to go home, he ruined everything as always. The only redemption he'd ever get is that he would never speak to you ever again.

You opened the metal side door of Jean's home and began to walk out when you felt his hands grab your shoulders once more and turn you around. Like clockwork, you balled up your fist and was ready to punch him in the face until he grabbed that very hand's wrist and held it back against the door. You struggled against his grip, eyes wide in shock.

"What are you- Eren! Let me g—"

He interrupted you, his lips slamming onto yours roughly. A dull throbbing pain emerged as his teeth clashed into yours. The back of your head hit the metal door, a resonant clang bouncing off as it was forcibly shut closed. His free hand curled around the dip of your back and pulled your body closer to his.

Eren's tongue forced its way through your mouth, the metal ball rolling around against your tongue. He kissed you as if he was starving, as if it was vital that he had to have you like this. It was completely overwhelming. The shock put you in a hazy daze, your body burning up to a scalding and uncomfortable heat.

Unlike Armin's, he was needily intense. He messily intermingled his saliva with yours, pushing even more deeply into you. It was suffocating, he was suffocating. Through the thickened haze, you felt his hand trail down to the curve of your ass and something solid was slowly rubbing against your thigh, immediate fear coursing through your body.

Without a second to waste, you bit down as hard as you could. Eren cried out in pain in your mouth and pulled away from you, his hand shooting to his face. He removed his hand and you saw a dark liquid dripping down his chin, the taste of iron and a spherical object in your mouth soon coming into realization.

Spitting out whatever was in your mouth into your hand, immediate nausea started to come in waves as you gazed upon it. You felt dizzy and out of breath, your heart wildly beating to the point where it started to ache.

You ignored the squeeze of the string, feeling it tighten till you were sure that circulation had cut off. The two of you shared a look, yours reflected a terrified stare and his... his pupils were blown out with a mortifying desire. A desire that you did not want any part in.

You dropped the piercing and ran, completely horrified to look back.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

You didn't tell anyone what had happened afterwards. You texted Jean that you left after a few drinks and thanked him for the invite, but you neglected to tell him the other bits and pieces. He didn't need to know or else he'd get all worked up about it. You didn't have Armin's phone number but you assumed that his friendship was still intact, occasionally seeing the blond visit the Jaeger household every few days or so. All he will be would be the one that took your first kiss from you.

It was difficult trying not to think about what had occurred in Jean's party. How can you even forget that kind of moment? You didn't even know what Eren wanted from you anymore, did he still hate you or did he finally realize he had feelings for you far too late in life? What a jackass. Technically, he cheated on Mikasa and that made him even more scummier than before. Regardless, you weren't ever going to reciprocate.

There was a particular temptation to smash the cup that Eren made into itty bitty pieces. When the two of you got an A on the final, you told him he could keep his cup. It was only fair after all.

He refused, instead taking the one that you made. You watched him carefully tuck it into his backpack, partially in awe that he actually cared to keep it from breaking. All you were left with was the teapot and his heart-shaped teacup. Instead of throwing it away, you put it on a shelf next to other various trinkets of yours. Now that you were looking at it now, a mix of a melancholy frustration occupied your thoughts.

The weeks after the party, you tried avoiding getting out of the house unless your parents strictly forced you to. Fate had always been against you so if there was even a minute where you were alone, you knew that Eren would mysteriously come along. Your parents just assumed that it was college jitters and you were afraid of leaving home, but unfortunately it was really more than that. It was not their burden to bear — they were already too old to be worrying about soulmate issues — this was your mess and you had to deal with it like an adult.

In better news, the college that you've wanted to go to since junior year graciously accepted your application. Sooner or later, you were flying a few states over for orientation and to check into the apartment that you and your parents found after the acceptance. You got the email mid-June while you were still moping over the party incident, screaming the house awake once more as if it was your ninth birthday.

You told Jean over the phone, the speakers nearly blowing out on his side of the call. The two of you promised to try syncing up breakfast and dinners since you were moving in a city with a separate time zone, and he'd update you on what's happening back in the town. He decided to take a gap year, the sole reason he explained to you was to gain work experience from what his dad was doing. You joked saying that you would be graduating before he would; in response, he told you to piss off and have a safe flight.

You tried having the move be as downlow as possible, making the decision to only bring essentials and anything else that was too big and noticeable would stay at home. It sucked that it had to be this way — you worried that you might leave something important behind — but you didn't want to catch the attention of anyone that wasn't family or friends.

You adjusted the bag on your back, flicking the edge of the orientation pamphlet that was handed over to you before entering the university. The map layout was on the front, other pieces of information were inside, ranging from various major and club booths to scheduled times of educational presentations the university was providing for today. For fun, you were thinking of joining the photography club or one of the book clubs, slinking through the crowd to get to the booths. After checking out the booths, you were going to one of the presentations for your chosen major.

This had to be your most peaceful moment in your life. The air was fresh and everyone was so kind, it was a relief that none of them knew about the person that haunted your very being. He no longer shadowed you, consumed you to the point where your identity was constantly associated with his.

You entered the room that the designated presentation was being held in and settled in the back, getting the full view of the space. No one was inside yet, maybe because you had got here just a little bit too early. It was fine however, it let you quietly observe without looking too weird.

This university was on the slightly older side, the seats were still the big wooden seats that served as a table at the same time with a deflated cushion and one side of the walls had stained glass windows, softly reflecting the colors onto you. It was a charming place, you'd love to attend a class in here.

There was a sound of someone settling down besides you, the seat creaking with age. You wanted to make any friends that were in your major as quickly as possible, miss any opportunity to befriend someone and you'd be lonely and struggling the entire time you'd be here. Turning towards the stranger, you began to extend your hand and greet them, until you fell short on your words when your eyes connected.

"E-eren?"

It couldn't be. It shouldn't be.

How did he know where you were attending? You never told anyone besides Jean and your parents. Jean would never tell anyone, especially him out of all people, and you've begged your parents not to publicly post anything about where you were attending until you graduated. Your jarred confusion must've amused him because a pleased grin started to form on his face, his head resting on his hand as he stared back at you. The glow of the string illuminated the side of his face, malice reflecting off of him.

Those cursed teal-green eyes, a color of a persistent poison with no antidote.

Everything crashed down on you, the world turning upside down. You abruptly stood up, stumbling backwards as you tried to get away. He didn't make a move, only watching you idiotically bumble around. Like a predator stalking its prey, you could tell when he was getting ready to strike. Maybe he had already got you wrapped up in his web, you just never realized it until now.

As you tried to get out of the room, the door handle didn't budge. Terror shot through you and you still tried to open it, tugging and pushing against the wooden door. You cried out in panic, beginning to hit the door with your fists, hopeful that anyone outside would hear you. A few minutes went by and no one came, your luck at an all time low.

Nothing. Nothing you did worked at all.

You finally faced him unwillingly, watching him stick out his tongue. A hand went over your mouth in shock. Nearly from the middle to the tip, there was a healed slit. He moved it and you gasped, his tongue parting in two. Oh God, what the hell happened? Wait... where did the metal ball go?

In that very moment, that very night came back to you in a flash. The taste of blood. The spherical piercing in your mouth. Your stomach churned in horrid disgust.

You did that.

"So..." Eren put away his tongue and got up from his seat, slowly nearing you. You were shaking, the feeling of consciousness slipping away as your heart hammered too fast for everything else in your body to keep up.

"Won't we finish what you've started?"

[morningstargirl666]

THE LITTLE WOLF UPDATE

It's here. The new improved chapters 1-3 have posted. Read The Big Bad Wolf's prequel from the beginning here. Chapters 4 & 5 should be posted a week from now, either on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, depending on when I finish it.

Think of it as my little gift to you all - I hope you all have a Merry Christmas (or a Happy Hanukkah!). And for those who don't celebrate either, then Happy New Year!

If you want more details on all the changes I made to The Little Wolf, read below. It's not too spoil-ery but it's not exactly spoiler-free either, so by all means come back later to see if you found all the changes I made! Extra kudos to those who notices them all.

Over 20k+ of brand new content. This includes two new chapters (chapter 2 & 4 respectively) and around 20 or more new scenes to devour across the entirety of the fic.

Original scenes have been tweaked and expanded upon, with longer conversations or scenes between characters.

All punctuation, grammar and spelling has been proof read repeatedly. I won't say it's all perfect, because I've probably still missed bits, but its in a much better state than it was before. Dialogue grammar in particular has had a complete overhaul, which should make everything much easier to read.

Each chapter has song lyrics at the beginning, fitting the vibes or themes of the chapter. This is a part of a playlist that I will share in Running With Wolves after completing the editing to The Big Bad Wolf (which has it's own share of songs, compiled with a mix of the music I listen to while writing and music I feel embodies each chapter).

In a similar thread, new timestamps have been added whenever there is a time or location jump. Again, this is a change that will be happening to The Big Bad Wolf as well to make flashbacks clearer. Upon completion of TBBW's edit, a timeline will be added to Running With Wolves so you can see all of the events that take place in the series in chronological order.

Historical accuracy has been given a bigger focus. Obviously, there's still a need for suspension of disbelief (vikings never travelled that far south in America, horses weren't introduced to America until the 1500s etc) as I'm no history buff and I personally believe you can allow a little leeway for sake of creative freedom. However, that said, I've tried to right the most egregious wrongs by Julie Plec: the white washing of the native Americans, the almost European-Christian culture of the Mikaelsons' village (views on bastards, women like Rebekah not carrying arms and being all innocently feminine even though they were warrriors too in viking culture, lack of historical accuracy in settings/costumes/props etc) and of course, the complete lack of explanation behind how the vikings arrived in Southern America. Hopefully it should feel more alive, and I'll probably add even more in the final FINAL edit that will happen once I've finished TBBW.

The Little Wolf's main focus is Klaus' characterisation arc. However, in this rewrite, all the Mikaelson siblings get more screen time and you get their characterisation arcs in the background, as a treat.

Henrik is much more fleshed out as a character. He's mischievous and playful, a lot like Kol, with other attributes from the other siblings thrown in. He's also got more Youngest Sibling energy, just as the other siblings have Middle Child/Eldest Child energy, because in a fic about family, really that's the most important detail of them all.

I've delved deeper into Mikael and Esther's treatment of Klaus and how it wasn't much different to how they treated the other siblings after all. Don't get me wrong - in my mind Klaus was dealt the worst of Mikael's physical fury, but I don't believe 'he was singled out' is as black and white as the show would lead you to believe. That's not how abusive households work.

Talking about Klaus' characterisation, think of this fic as the death of Niklaus Mikaelson, leading to the birth of Klaus, The Original Hybrid. The Little Wolf leading the way for The Big, Bad Wolf. You'll get innocent baby boi Niklaus of course, but that same innocent kid has a feral side. When you become a vampire, it heightens who you already are and Klaus - he had that fury and violence in him all along, and it wasn't just because of the wolf.

In a lot of human-era Originals fics and the actual shows, when they're turned into vampires its all very planned out. Idk, like Esther and Mikael are evil villains twirling their moustaches? Turning their children into vampires, its all very pre-meditated, oh the horror and everything. And although there is elements of that in this rewrite (they ARE shitty, evil parents after all) I tried to do something a little original myself. In this fic, more focus is given to the family's grief and how Henrik's death becomes the shatterpoint for EVERYTHING. His death causes every bad decision made by the family from that moment on. It's less of "I planned to make my children the most powerful beings to ever walk this earth" and more of "I tried to save my children and didn't expect ANY of this so wtf do I do now, another bad decision? Yeah let's do that". You feel me? Hopefully that comes across anyways.

Okay what haven't I mentioned yet... WEREWOLF LORE. Yeah that's been expanded on and fleshed out some more. You get a glimpse into my take on how the werewolf gene is triggered, along with a coming of age ritual, general culture, outsider prejudice against werewolves etc...Klaus' views on them is much more explored, especially in relation to his heritage. Kinda playing with the idea that him being a bastard was never the problem to Mikael or Klaus - it was him being a werewolf.

Since I started re-writing this I watched way too many of Mike Flanagan's series'. So I kinda went all 'Midnight Mass' on the Mikaelson's village. Oopsies.

In a similar thread, the raven from the Fall of The House of Usher left a bigger impact on me than I like to admit. That's something so sexy about an omen of death okay leave me alone I NEED THE FORESHADOWING

There's probably more, I'm disclaiming that now, but I've forgotten. Go forth and devour my lovelies ✨

[depravitycentral]

i love that you don't shy away from yandere themes that are considered gross! Period blood for example and invading reader's privacy in the bathroom. (Thankfully there's no sc*t 😅) A lot of your posts are 10k+ so I was wondering about your writing process

Do you write it all in one sitting? How long does it take you? If you get a block in the middle, do you just give up on it or force yourself to finish it? What's your favorite thing you've written?

Aww thank you for the reassurance! I'm never totally sure how things like that will be received - my goal when I write yandere works is to tap into the more creepy and gross side of the yandere, and I think that can turn a lot of people off from reading my stuff. Thank you for being a trooper and dealing with it, though; you have my heart <3

(Also please don't worry, scat will NEVER make an appearance on my blog. Other icky, nasty body fluids? Sure, but I have to draw the line somewhere and that's where I've chosen.)

As far as my writing process goes, I kind of go in spurts! This weekend I've been feeling weirdly productive and I had a lot of free time (a rare commodity), so I was able to sit down and pound out some of those profiles. I tend to get inspiration for a character and write like 60-75% of their profile in one sitting, then suddenly lose all motivation and want to stop to take like a snack break or do something else for a while. A lot of times when I'm that close to being done I just force myself to finish it, which sometimes has better results than others. (The Nobunaga nsfw profile, for example, was completed about 65% of the way done when I suddenly crashed on it, but I banged it out from start to finish in one sitting, so if there are lulls in the writing that's probably why.) If I leave something halfway done, there's all kinds of little notes and bullet points written down on the document with ideas I was working with, but sometimes I wait so long to return back to that specific work that I totally forget/don't understand what the bullet points are saying, which sucks.

For time, I would say it takes me somewhere around 3-4 hours to write each profile if I'm really focused, but the total time (including brainstorming) is probably averaged more around 5-6 hours. The nsfw ones have less content so they take less time, but the general ones are the ones I have to really think about and analyze, which often tends to require watching a few more episodes with that character in it just to get a good feel for them as I head into writing. (Unfortunately, haikyuu has become virtually impossible to find for free nowadays, so for all my haikyuu works I'm mostly just working off memory. I'm a little worried they aren't super accurate to the characters, but the show must go on.)

I don't really have a favorite thing I've written! Occasionally I'll look through my blog and see something I posted and go oh really? Was that me? Did I post that? I don't remember most of the details of things I post, so it's actually kind of a treat for me to go back and reread my work because it's like I'm reading a brand new fic. (Aside from all the grammar errors I suddenly find. Ugh.) I will say that all the Feitan stuff came much easier than I thought it would - I was kind of dreading writing for him because he's so popular among the fans and is kind of difficult for me to grasp, but once I started it just kind of kept coming. So if I had to choose, maybe his profiles!

Thank you for all the questions - self reflection is always a good thing! And thank you for sending in this ask - the little rush of serotonin I get whenever I see a notification that something new is in my inbox is crazy.

[x0401x]

Hi there! I wanted to ask, what were your impressions/thoughts of Tsurune season 2 episode 1 so far? And the colors symbolism in the opening song with the ribbons? Just curious about your thoughts, thanks and have a great day!! :D

BRUH. I LOVED IT??? FUCK YEAH, THAT WAS AMAZING.

I really wonder how all those annoying Anons who filled my inbox with garbage back in 2019 are feeling right now, because just in this one episode, KyoAni has fixed literally every defect that I had pointed out in S1. The amount of improvement is just surreal.

First of all, the storytelling this season. The freaking storytelling. You can tell the difference between works that a studio actually places their bets on and the ones they don’t by the amount of effort that the animation team puts into the flow of each episode. S1 was an ungodly mix of slow pace that suddenly went too fast at punctual moments without any warning, bad humor, boring tone, missing information, inconsistencies and shit that the animators pulled out of their asses to cover up plot holes. This one, though? Smooth as a feather. Full of well-thought details. Scenes and events connecting properly with one another. Flashbacks very nicely timed. It was entirely an anime-original episode, 90% non-canon content, yet there’s canon info at every single second. I love the little things, such as the way that we’re led to think that the MVP of the sports event is going to be Rika and the show makes use of every possible hint that it’s going to be her, until the very last second, where it turns out that it’s Ryouhei. Awesome screenplay right there. This episode was meticulously planned and it shows.

The changes in visual. The upgrade in the artstyle is the most easily noticeable thing about the animation of this season, but the quality is a million times better too. The characters also have a lot more facial expression now. I once talked about Morimoto Chinatsu’s incredible talent for character design and the way that she goes as far as giving not just different hair and eyes, but also different eyelashes, eyebrows, ears, noses, mouths, chins, jawlines and even fucking wrists to every single character that she drew for the novel. And seeing S1 doing the opposite and giving every character a base face was just... no. So now that there’s been a turnaround and the characters externally show what they’re feeling and thinking, following their journey is a whole new experience. That moment when the team stares at Minato after he answers Masaki’s question is pure character study right there. And it’s probably the most blatant example of this season’s improvement, given that we never had this in the previous one. I also love how the expressions are not just there, they’re on-point. On par with what the novel tells us about them. My biggest peeve with S1 was that I’d look at these kids and a voice at the back of my head would go “who the fuck are you people”. Those weren’t the characters I knew. They didn’t look like them and didn’t act like them. But now I recognize them. These are the kids I read about. They finally feel like themselves.

The symbolism of the series. By God, so many treats in this episode in that regard. The yesterday-today-tomorrow blossom splashed with watercolor in the team’s theme colors. The intimist approach of the shots. The way that Minato and Shuu’s positions oppose each other on-screen. The lighting, the colors, the smear filter… literally everything is more vivid and lively. One of the things I recall commenting about S1 is that it didn’t feel like a KyoAni anime because KyoAni’s works are very immersion-based. You can feel yourself being inside that world, together with the characters. But I couldn’t feel that from Tsurune’s first season at all. With this one, I was able to dive head-first into it. It was absolutely magical. I also love that the leaves that fly out of the targets whenever the characters hit now don’t look so obviously like CGI.

Personality traits. They’re fucking everywhere. Like I said, this was entirely an anime-original episode, yet there’s canon info at every single second. Even better: information that clearly contradicts S1 but that matches the novel. Seiya being a smartass little shit full of wit instead of a Minato-obsessed yandere. Kaito being a team-driven hardworker instead of an obnoxious asshole who wants nothing but victory. Ryouhei actually acting upon his lack of experience in archery to catch up to everyone. Nanao being charismatic and having screen-time of his own instead of being pushed to the background while all his personality and lines are used on Seiya. Minato expressing his thoughts and feelings instead of just being an emotionless doormat who never really does anything. We learned more about the characters in just these 20 minutes than the entirety of the first season. It feels like KyoAni has finally taken a step back to look at the material they had in their hands and truly took in what the novel was about and what each character had going on for them. Even the girls’ team was fleshed out in this one, which was honestly a great surprise. I think we’ve gotten from this episode all the little things we didn’t get from S1, such as the way Noa and Yuuna are fangirls of Rika. The way Nanao shines better as support than as main even though he’s so conspicuous. The fact that Kaito is good at soccer and Seiya loves soccer tactics. The way Ryouhei, who doesn’t know much about archery, is used as the eyes of the viewers, and how unpretentiously the lessons he is taught are presented to us as something that we should also keep in mind (for example, that the target is the archer and the archer is the target, and when you’re at the stage of the draw, you’re aiming at your very own self). And the way that Minato is something in this season. We finally see the inner machinations of his mind here aside from his struggles with target panic.

Lastly (and what I consider to be most important) is that the roles of each character and their relationships with one another seem to be in tune with the novel now. Well, okay, almost. Seiya is still being weird around Masaki, but I guess that’s because it’d be too sudden if Seiya started acting the way he acts in canon (y’know, like a normal fucking person). However, the difference is that the narrative is clearly pushing towards Masaki instead of Seiya now, as it should be. Kaito, Nanao and Ryouhei, who used to be just in the background most of the time in S1 are now set perfectly into their own functions and you can tell that they do exist for reasons other than just fill up the team positions. Nanao also seems to be his own person now instead of living through Kaito. Seiya is being shown looking after the whole club, as the competent club president that he is, instead of just Minato. Minato now has proper reactions to everything and doesn’t just completely ignore when Seiya is being a little shit. Masaki is now acting like a true mentor and already in the first episode we have him giving more advice to the boys than the entirety of the first season. But more than anything else, what caught my attention was Shuu. S1 did him really dirty by giving him scary jealous rival vibes and not expanding at all on his relationship with Minato. As I said before, they’re not your usual sports anime rival duo. They really respect and admire each other, are jealous of each other to some extent, but they’re friends first and foremost. They’re also opposites of one another in every way. We didn’t get any of this in S1, and now we’re getting literally all of it at once. What a fucking blessing.

Honestly, the only things I’m concerned about in this season are 1) Kaito and Seiya’s relationship. It’s probably too late to mend it now and make it the way it is in canon, and it also seems the animators are just not interested in doing that, which kinda hurts, but I guess we can’t have it all. And 2) Minato and Masaki’s relationship. I’m pretty sure that we’re not gonna get the same amount of content for them as there is in the novel, and in the off-chance that we do, it’s just not gonna have the same approach or the same quality. Minato and Masaki are mirrors of each other but the anime vehemently refuses to acknowledge this for some reason. They try to treat Masaki as a completely separate entity that has absolutely nothing in common with Minato despite all of the mystic, supernatural and fate-oriented themes that their connection is centered around and the fact that they’ve gone through very similar experiences and hardships in doing archery. But I’d rather believe that it’s a little too early to make a judgement and wait. Truth remains that the characters and their relationships in the anime will never be nearly as good as they are in the original work no matter how hard they try, so I’m just gonna take what I can get.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on this episode. It was one of the very rare instances where I completely approve of anime-original content in an adaptation.

[snakeeyesdraws]

What version of Mario is your favourite? Is it the new movie or the game verse?

This is a great question!! Truthfully, there's very few Mario versions I don't enjoy - I can get entertainment value out of all of them!

Cards on the table, I'm always gonna cherish the Mario & Luigi series above all else - I think this series really captures what I love about this world/these characters the most. It really nails the vibe of "two brothers going on crazy adventures with whacky but memorable characters" that I always look for in my Mario content! Making Mario and Luigi both the heroes and emphasizing how well they work together with gameplay mechanics is mwah, chefs kisses, no notes.

Of course, I love all of the Mario series! Mario Odyssey, Mario Galaxy, New Super Mario Bros, all great and enjoyable games. Paper Mario especially is near to my heart. I think while I take most of my inspiration from the Mario & Luigi series (especially art wise - I'm still learning how to draw in that style!) all of the series are wonderful in their own way.

Now as for the movie... I did enjoy it! I'm so grateful that its release got so many people, including myself, either into this franchise for the first time or got them to revisit it. Mario hasn't been a main hyperfixation for me since I was little, but now it's my main one and it's given me so much joy, so I'm super thankful for the movie existing!

That said, I do agree with a lot of the criticisms with the movie, mostly around the plot and pacing. I don't like how much it speeds past all the potential development for the characters, I don't like that fan favourites like Bowser and Luigi barely appear in it, I don't like that no one gets any real development for their characters. Even something simple as "Mario learns the wonders of this new world" and "Luigi learns he can be brave" really don't come across when the film is RUSHING to get to the next plot point.

This keeps the movie verse from being my favourite, BUT. What did I really enjoy in this film?

These goobers and their dynamic, oh my god. My favourite parts of the movie are when they're on screen together and we get to see them interact, they REALLY nailed the sibling dynamic!! I love what they set up; Mario is the over protective big brother (places himself in front of Luigi when confronting danger, makes traversing the construction site easier and safer for Luigi), Luigi is his emotional support, they work together and LIKE working together, they tease each other, they worry about each other when they're not together, it's everything I want out of these characters!

The movie may not be my favourite VERSION, but it def has one of my favourite portrayals of the bros' dynamic. This is exactly how I envision their relationship whenever I draw/write/daydream! And the fact that so many fans have incorporated their "nothing can hurt us as long as we're together" theme and dynamic into fan works has made me just, so happy

TL;DR because I kinda rambled all over the place; M&L series is my favourite version of Mario if I had to pick, but the movie versions of Mario and Luigi as characters are also very dear to me, even if I tend to only rewatch their scenes together as opposed to the whole movie haha

[shallliveoninsong]

◇ Alright, I keep putting this off and I know I'll keep doing so until I force myself so here we are my thoughts and criticisms of Penacony as a whole. Spoilers for content from 2.0 to now are below.

Overall I enjoyed playing it. It was not by any means a bad part of the game. The new puzzles were interesting even if some of them frustrated me, they were something new and neat. The theming and setting were great, (hello hospitality industry rep thank you). The maps were far more varied and bigger yet didn't feel empty, there were tons of things to explore in each but not to the point of it being tedious padding. It felt like there was love and interesting details in every set piece. The trippy dreamscape parts of the were very neat too.

But overall I'm just kinda left... feeling like Penacony didn't live up to it's own potential. 2.0 and 2.1 set up so many things, they introduced a shit ton of new characters and it was great, it felt like it was creating this elaborate chess game between all the different factions that were there- the Express, the different branches of the Family, Sparkle/the Masked Fools, Acheron, the IPC, Firefly/the Stelleron hunters, and the mystery of the old Nameless.

And yet in the end, barely any of this was explored past a relatively surface level for some and just a few cutscenes for others telling us stuff but in an exposition dump.

It feels frustrating because I know how great it could have been if everything was given more time to breathe and we actually got to know the characters and grow to care about them in their debut. What confounds me is that they really did this well for the most part with Aventurine, 2.1 was honestly the Aventurine Update ™ and while I have some criticisms that it got a bit exposition-dumpy at parts and didn't loop back together to the main plot and with what the rest of the characters were doing at least it made me care? I got to know him beyond just a few things? So with how much time they put into that I don't think I'm wrong in having expected them to have done that with everyone?? Especially with the new POV change segments. It gives us an opportunity to explore characters deeper without the Express crew being involved. But sans Aventurine whenever we did a POV switch was mostly to just walk around and talk to some people and not any actual gameplay (combat OR puzzles).

There are so many more questions about Acheron, Gallager, Misha, Sunday, Robin, and the rest of the family and yet? We just don't really get much that's not vague or only lightly explored.

And sure, there is also the extended content (animated shorts, character trailers etc) and while I DO watch those and follow the star rail socials you shouldn't have to in order to care about the characters. They should make their splash in their debut of the game, not a word of god making you care about them only post-mortem.

I DO like the message and themes it seems like it was trying to say, how yes life is imperfect and full of pain but blindly existing in a sweet dream isn't the answer, people need freedom to truly experience life. And that it's not that nothing we do matters, it's the meaning we make from it even if we are all going to die one day/get engulfed by the nihility. The trailblazing journey never-ending is also was a nice theme.

But again both of these are moreso just told to us after the fact. The 3 Trailblazers are only brought up again in the update before the last one and aside from Mikhal we really didn't get to know what they were like all that much. At least the guard guy Acheron was doing the favor for we got a bit more of but the lady researcher we only got that one NPC who looked up to her talking about her and that's it. So it lessens the impact of seeing Misha pass on and Gallager's goodbye too. Because we never got to truly know these people before their stories were being wrapped up in a bow real quick.

Obligatory I'm sure the game industry has a lot to do with why the final product came out the way it did so of course I'm not going to just say I think the story ended up like this because of laziness or anything, but it just makes me sad for what could have been. The sad goodbyes could have hit so much harder, the hopeful message of the future however imperfect it may be could have been more uplifting, I could have been really worried for everyone making it out alive but for me anyway, it was lacking a lot.

This isn't to say Belebog or Luofu arc was perfect of course, they had their own issues too but they felt like they had far more cohesion and steadiness throughout than Penacony did.

If Penacony had been treated more as a fun romp through the Dreamscape I think I wouldn't have as much disappointment, but it wasn't? It was treated as this big event that could impact the whole universe? It really seemed like Black Swan and Acheron were going to have pivotal roles in shattering the utopia the Family were trying to keep but we really don't even see most of the Family?

Again, a lot of this could have been fixed by just... letting things breathe more? Giving more time to characters and fewer exposition dumps. Like I felt more emotions during the Drinkmaker event story with Sioban even though that plotline was far more straightforward it gave time to all the monsters and Sioban to get to really connect with them.

But ye, I have other gripes but also other praises but I need to stop this ramble at some point so here it is.

[nhi-theuserof-this]

COMBINING MY TWO BEST THINGS RN ONE PIECE + PUNKNOIR *not a crossover

ok so I’m in love with gear 5 but punknoir is my number one so what if I— *spits this out*

Mild OP spoilers excluding the crazy ass(exaggeration) Gear 5 stuff and some fun and deranged thought process coming from a place of love up ahead, although all this is centric on hobie and noir interacting with OP the media not actually a crossover

Also this is probably so niche in general just bear with me lmao

-Hobie would be showing noir around and introducing him to other spider people that are willing or able to help with the different time period whiplash which would then lead to eventually meeting someone that would want to update them on media like shows and books and such

-It obviously branches off into media from not america and when you mention manga or anime you have to bring up the big three, hence one piece, doesn’t really sound interesting to either of them at surface level

-noir wants to have something modern to talk about with new people though, so he briefly researches themes of books and shows he’s heard about and rabbit holes across one piece themes of freedom and the part where (haha) luffy is like legally a terrorist or something so now he *has* to check out one piece

-He reads the manga first because he likes reading at his own pace but watches any particularly interesting parts in the anime after reading it in the manga

-noir brings up one piece to hobie pretty soon and since hobie is from like early 2000s? Or a little before?(messy ahh timeline sorry guys) one piece is probably still relatively new in his universe(if it exists in his universe)

-Hobie checks it out himself via video and or written analysis people post online about it as well as checking out the first few chapters

-I’m not very good at getting hobie as a writer but he comes off to me that he would appreciate the story one piece is trying to tell combined with its lighter tone that keeps it from going on like a ‘dark tone’ the way more current / popular anime does

-Hobie starts to occasionally read one piece since it’s not as long as it is in the universe noir picks volumes up from so he slightly might not know the commitment he’s gotten into

-He still has plenty to say about it anyhow, and Noir loves to discuss with him about their own perceptions on the ideas as well was the story itself

-Noir is fucking enraptured by one piece

(Gear 5 content ahead!)

-Noir eventually catches up to one piece and starts reading each chapter as it comes out, and imagine how fucking wild he would go when he reads the gear 5 reveal?

-Noir is from a generally dark and quite gloomy universe, and I feel that this plays a large role in how much he’d care about something so ridiculous to his own universe

-freedom freedom freedom that is like such a big theme and noir would absolutely latch onto it right?

-Noir would absolutely be bothered by plenty of things in one piece due to again, timeline differences, so the sun god nika part would likely bother him simply because of his own silly spider god scenario—I can absolutely see himself relating to luffy with the coming back from the verge of or actual death without their own say-so via their powers/granter of power

-He’d probably try to compare his own attitude and world view to luffy’s in a combination of trying to better himself as well as it’s fun to relate to a character that deeply

-from that general point onwards noir would totally try to get hobie onto one piece by watching the show together

-at this point it’s like a special thing for them two to just enjoy one piece

-when gear 5 is animated and they watch it together noir has to pause the episode a couple of times because he is so happy with how it was animated and hobie is laughing his ass off at the smear frames they land on whenever it’s paused

-they both immediately rewatch the episode like three more times and keep noticing new things, it’s a blast

Ok ran out of things to say🔔🔔🔔🔔🛎️

Sorry my silly ass couldn’t handle the pressure of not combining these two things when I just had the power to make my sillies like my other little guy that I’ve been braining over for the past week

I’ll maybe make some art!!

[crushsung]

#CRUSHSUNG: ind. original character roleplay blog. written by dillon; twenty-five, they/them, lesbian. triggering themes will be present. mutuals only, minors do not interact.

a study in: fallen angels, gifted child burnout, alter egos, the obsessed artist, desire to be great or nothing, self-destruction, self-mythologizing, reinvention, reclaiming your own narrative.

LINKS: verses. headcanons. playlist. pinterest. interest tracker. OTHER BLOG(S): praybird. nepoboyfriend. visceraldose.

RULES:

triggering content will be present, including but not limited to themes involving past emotional abuse/domestic violence, child neglect/exploitation, implied grooming, and substance use. none of these subjects will be written in graphic detail, but are prevalent in alice's story. i will tag whatever i can, but please use your own discretion if you decide to follow.

i do not have a ton of triggers myself, but i do ask that others please tag images of snails, slugs, and any content involving self harm.

i'm open to writing n.sfw content if we have (heavily) plotted and know each other fairly well, but i'd prefer to keep anything of an explicit nature on disc.ord. sexual content may be implied here and there, but won't be written graphically here.

iconless, mostly. sometimes not. not particular focused on visual aesthetic at the moment; i keep formatting fairly simple, but feel free to do whatever works best for you.

a little bit about me: hi, i'm dillon. aspiring screenwriter, gothic horror enthusiast, would-be hamlet impersonator, best friend of snoopy, and many other things. i've been working on a tv script featuring alice and several other characters for some time now. i have insomnia so i'm often here at odd hours. mutuals are always welcome to bother me, either here or on disc.ord (available on request!)

TEMPORARY BIO:

name. alice hélène brennan. nicknames/alias. known professionally as liddell. allie/ally or liss to select friends and partners. lissy to her mother. gender. cis woman. pronouns. she/her. birthday. august 30. age. verse dependent, 24+ in main. sexuality. bisexual, closeted. a lot of speculation and debate about this amongst the fans and media, many claim that she's dropped 'hints' in her work, but she's never confirmed or denied anything. parents. celine bouchard and owen brennan. siblings. leo brennan and nolan brennan. current location. manhattan, new york.  birthplace. vancouver, british columbia. spoken languages. english (fluent), french (fluent). education. high school graduate. homeschooled from 9th to 12th grade. occupation. former musician. current poet/novelist. later film composer. faceclaim. daisy edgar-jones (main), stacy martin (alt), mackenzie davis (older) voiceclaim. riley keough. eye colour. brown. hair colour. brown. body type. slim build. height. 5'6" scent. bergamot, jasmine, honey, sea breeze, sandalwood. typically wears aegea blossom eau de parfum by aerin. tattoos/piecings. see board. personality. abrasive, distant, passionate, protective, stoic, thoughtful.

everybody knows you. nobody knows you. you don't let them.

they know versions of you - some that you allow, some that they crafted on their own. the child prodigy. a household name before you were in high school. something special, at least for awhile. before things got twisted, before you lost control of the narrative. you didn't really want any of that to begin with, but they insisted. mom and dad. crafty social climbers.

mom and dad. they might be the two people who know you the least. they never really wanted you to begin with, but you were useful. a means to an end. they split up eventually, because of course, nothing like that ever lasts. you often wonder if they ever loved each other. you know for certain that they didn't love you.

dad's got a new family now. you don't talk to them, or him. mom still calls, sometimes she visits. you always feel so guilty whenever she's around.

you don't make music anymore, but your name is still in the headlines. most of it's about your personal life. they always loved that stuff. your first kiss was documented - remember that? it made you feel sick after, how a private moment was taken and made public for everyone to see. you've never had a relationship that wasn't on display.

maybe that's why it didn't work with adam. it never felt like he was just yours or that you were just his. he loved you, or at least you think he did. but you didn't really know how to love him back. you let him go, even though it hurt. because you're a heartbreaker, or so they say.

or maybe it's that you're too damaged to be known. roy did a number on you. you still think about him sometimes, even though it's been years. you see his face everywhere. they play his songs in grocery stores. the worst part of all this, despite all he put you through, is that he might very well be the person who knew you the best. it was four years, after all. (it was longer than four years, but you aren't supposed to say that.) roy said a lot of things that weren't true about you, but some of them were. you were cruel, callous. he made you that way. you don't know how to unmake yourself.

SUMMARY:

alice - better known by her stage name 'liddell' - is a recognizable figure. famous since she was 13, once hailed as a child prodigy, several award winning albums.

has twin half-brothers, 16 years her junior, named leo and nolan on her father's side. doesn't have much of a relationship with them, only sees them on special occasions.

had a relationship with another musician and producer - roy taylor, you might know him too - since she was 18, ended when she was 22. emotionally fraught, sometimes abusive relationship. messy breakup. he had quite a few unflattering things to say about her in the end. the general public sided with him on that. she left the music industry shortly after.

also previously dated adam roswell - frontman of a punk band called blemishes. fans and press gave him the nickname 'nepo boyfriend', due to the supposed 'career boost' that came with being associated with her.

currently writes poetry and fiction. has published a poetry collection titled 'crush songs' - well reviewed, decent sales, but nowhere near the numbers she had as musician. currently working on a novel about the complex relationship between a young woman and her father - semi-autobiographical.

undiagnosed autism. special interests are ... well, as a teenager, she carried around dog-eared paperback copy of hamlet and jeff buckley's album grace on cassette tape everywhere she went. it's that serious. also likes architecture and interior design - specifically hotels. she has a bucket list of places to visit.

primarily smokes hand-rolled cigarettes. picked it up from a pretentious fuck she had a crush on when she was 15. it's pointless, but she just likes it now. will smoke store bought if it's what's available.

INFLUENCES:  beth harmon, the queen's gambit (2020 miniseries). camille preaker, sharp objects (novel and 2018 miniseries). daisy jones, daisy jones and the six (novel and 2023 miniseries). her smell (2018). marianne sheridan, normal people (novel and 2020 miniseries). sally draper, mad men (2007-2015). sydney barrett, legion (2017-2019). the music of jeff buckley. the music of lucy dacus. the public image/media perception of taylor swift.

[cursingtoji]

DEAR STEPBROTHER

summary: you get close to your stepbrother as never before on a halloween party

pairing: stepbrother!Eren x f!reader

w/c: 3.8k

warnings: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, STEPCEST, college AU, alcohol consumption, use of condom, car sex, Eren being protective over reader, smoking.

a/n: tagging this as dark content but the characters are pretty soft with each other fyi.

be aware of the warnings before you proceed, don’t continue if you’re uncomfortable with the theme and don’t be rude about it, if I forgot to tag something kindly let me know.

chapter 2 >>

It’s been so long since the last time you saw your stepbrother Eren, since he went to university you two barely talk, but now you managed to get in the same uni as him things would change.

What you didn’t expect was that your brother looked so different. He didn’t have the habit of posting his pictures on social media and whenever he video called it was to talk to your parents.

So you were understandably shocked when you met each other in your dorm after he volunteered to help you unpack. He was taller and much more tanned since the last time you saw each other, his hair was tied up too which left you wondering how long it really was.

Eren hugged you tightly by your waist the first day, greeting you by the pet name he used since he moved in after your parents got married.

Hey, princess.

Except now the usual pet name made your skin tingle, the butterflies you felt when his arms pressed your body against his own could not possibly be right.

But you just shook the feeling off, after all it’s been a very long time since you two exchanged a hug.

Eren had always been pretty touchy, especially when you were around friends, he said he liked having a sister since he's always been an only child, and of course your parents liked to see their children getting along.

While you were organizing your clothes in the closet and Eren taking your books out of the boxes, your new dorm-mate, Historia, entered introducing herself to you two, but apparently in a matter of minutes she grew more fond of your stepbrother than the person she would be sharing the dorm with.

As the weeks passed you became more settled, keeping up with your classes and befriending more people, especially Eren’s friends since he was always inviting you to hang out with them.

The only uncanny thing was your dorm-mate, you had the impression she was faking an interest in being friends with you only to get closer to your stepbrother.

>> halloween party off campus today, you in?

He texted you while you were in class, you immediately looked at Historia thinking how you would leave the dorm to a party without letting her know your plans.

sure, but can I change in your dorm?<<

>> okay ?

"Any plans for tonight? We could go clubbing, there are many halloween themed ones already" she said as you left the last class of the day.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you can ask Eren and his friends too so it's more fun".

Of course.

"Oh, I have plans with a friend tonight, sorry" you replied the first thing you could think of and she seemed to believe it.

As the night came you put your costume and makeup items into your backpack saying goodbye to your colleague that decided to stay in the dorm as you left to "find your friend".

"Hey" Eren said, opening his door to let you in, he had a white shirt on and his hair slicked back with gel, only one curly lock falling into his forehead.

"Hi, I thought we were going to meet outside?" Jean said laying on his bed with a black and white striped suit and black eyeliner around his eyes, finding it weird that his dorm-mate’s sister was entering their room now.

"Yeah, sorry, I need to borrow your bathroom real quick" you said as you entered the bathroom to apply your makeup and undress.

"Something wrong with yours?" Jean asked through the closed door.

"Hm, not really, but I didn't want Historia to know about the party" you replied, starting to apply the dark eyeliner, “By the way what are your costumes?”

“I’m low-effort beetlejuice” Jean replied.

“And I’m grease” you heard Eren.

“You mean John’s Travolta character in the movie Grease?” you laughed at his choice of words.

“That’s what I said”.

Makeup was done, now the hard part was the witch dress you chose, the zip being hard to do by yourself, "Eren, can you help me with this dress?"

"I can do it" Jean murmured only to get a death glare from his friend.

The door opened slightly as Eren entered, you turned your bare back to him.

"Any reason why you didn't want to invite Historia?" he asked and you felt your face heating with anger at the thought that he might want her to go too.

Jealous thoughts being forgotten the second you felt his fingertips touching your neck to push your hair out of the zipper way.

"Mmm, she is nice, but I wanted to be only with you tonight— and Mikasa and Sasha, you know, you guys" you quickly tried to correct yourself, the mirror in front of you showed a glimpse of a smile on Eren’s face.

He didn't need to know how especially interested in him Historia was.

And you didn't want to explain why you didn't want them together.

Because in reality, you were not sure where this weird feeling was coming from.

"Sure, princess" he zipped up the dress and held your hips with both hands for a few seconds looking down in a trance.

"You shouldn’t call me princess when I’m dressed like a witch” you giggled alone and realized he didn’t seem to be listening, “Eren?" you asked, bringing him out of his thoughts, finding your eyes on the mirror, you picked the last remaining item to your costume — the pointy hat — and turned to him "I'm ready, shall we go?"

You left your clothes in their dorm planning to come by and change again before returning to your bedroom, where, hopefully, Historia would be asleep and you would not need to explain why you arrived so late.

"Oh, hey y/n, I didn't know you were coming too" Armin said when Eren, you and Jean found him outside the building next to his car, he was dressed like Captain America.

"Hi, Armin, is it okay I'm tagging along?" you asked, uncertain of his reaction.

"Yes, obviously! it’s just that I invited Reiner and Berthold too, so you all might get a little crushed in the backseat".

"Oh, she can go in the front then" Eren was quick to say.

"Dude, no way you, me, Reiner and Berthold will fit in the back" Jean said, in fact you knew that at how large the boys were, they could not fit all together in Armin's car.

"What about us?" Reiner said walking close to you along with Berthold, hearing only their names in the conversation, Reiner was dressed like a cop and his friend as Frankenstein's creature, stitches on his forehead poorly done with eyeliner.

"You guys will have to sit on each other's lap" Jean said teasingly.

“Can I choose someone else to sit on my lap?” Reiner replied, looking directly at you.

“Let’s do this: Reiner is the largest, so he will go in the passenger seat, you four in the back” Armin pointed and opened the driver’s door ready to go.

You all entered in the backseats: you had to take your hat off once you entered, Eren and Jean sat in the middle, Berthold on the window seat, but Berthold couldn't shut his door since half of his body was still outside.

"Try this" Eren hooked his arm under your bare thighs and brought them sideways to his lap, you bent your knees to not get over Jean too, that way you freed some space since now only half of your butt was on the seat, the rest of your body was practically on Eren’s lap.

He now had a leather jacket to match his outfit too, knowing the leather rubbing the bare skin of your arm all the way to the party would make you uncomfortable he placed his arm behind your head, and finally Berthold was able to enter and close the door so Armin could drive out.

Being this close to Eren made you notice his jaw was clenched like he was mad for some reason so you rested your head on his shoulder seeing he relaxed a bit as Armin turned the radio on so you could all vibe on the way to the party.

Because all the windows were open, the wind was causing the hem of your dress to flutter, you only noticed it when Eren placed his hand on your thigh holding the dress down, half touching your skin.

The comfortable position you were in almost got you wishing the party was further away, Eren's hand was so warm against your cold skin.

The ride was quiet, Jean making comments about how Armin had the same taste for music as his grandfather while you and Eren remained quiet, leaning against each other, whatever choice of perfume he did for tonight was a very good choice, the slide back hairstyle accentuated his facial features and white shirt accentuated his torso, Eren was truly beautiful.

"We are here" Armin said after parking in front of a big house which had the front yard decorated with fake coffins, spider webs and skeletons.

"There" Eren opened the door at your side hesitantly taking his hand off your leg so you could step out.

But instead of letting go of you he put his arm around your shoulders helping you adjust your hat while the six of you entered the party soon founding the rest of the gang.

"Beer pong!" Sasha called, dragging you to play with her against Hange and Mikasa.

"Take it slow, my little witch" Eren murmured to you before leaving to find a game for himself.

Unfortunately the opposing team was too good, you and Sasha had to drink all your cups getting a little light headed not one hour after arriving. You were lucky that your seniors accepted you so well, this party was probably hosted by other seniors since you didn’t recognize anyone except Eren’s friends.

As more people arrived at the party you were being pulled left and right to games and dances, drinks with dry ice being handed to you often, after some time you decided to look for Eren, finding him playing poker outside on a picnic table with other creatures.

"y/n come stay beside me, I need some powerful spell here" Jean called you, but you chose the place next to Eren as expected.

"Sorry, Jean, I gotta stick with my big brother" you replied, getting a proud smile from Eren.

"I give up then" Jean threw his cards and the game resumed in Eren and another man you didn't know yet dressed as a mummy, Eren bet all he had and won.

"I should bring you to games with me more often" Eren put a hand behind your head bringing it closer to kiss your forehead, "I will get us some soda" he got up leaving his phone on top of the table as the other players reorganized the cards.

"Is Eren the designated driver?" you heard the mummy man who lost ask Jean.

"No, it's Armin, why?"

"Nothing, it's just unusual for him to not drink".

It was indeed uncanny for the same person that used to ask you to hide empty beer bottles under your bed -- since your parents would never check your room -- to spend the whole night at a party without drinking any alcohol.

Eren's phone lit up and even though you didn't mean to peep you couldn’t help to notice the last name you wanted to see tonight.

>>hey eren

>>this is historia

>>i got your number from a friend

>>hope you don't mind

>>i'm alone now, wanna come over?

Your blood boiled at the audacity of this girl.

How dare she text your brother to come meet her in your shared bedroom when you were away?

You took his phone when no one was paying attention and replied quickly.

not interested <<

When you noticed Eren coming back you put his phone back at the table.

"There" he handed you a soda cup.

"Thanks, 'Ren" you drank the content but now you wanted something stronger, "I think I will find Sasha again to get some blood shots" you got up and returned to the inside of the party missing the confused look on his face.

You haven't found Sasha or the other girls so you headed to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, not actually wanting to get too drunk and become a problem, since this was supposed to be a fun night and you didn’t know most of the people here.

You were not entirely sure why you replied to Historia, if Eren wanted to hook up with your dorm-mate this shouldn't be any matter of yours, right?

Maybe all you needed was a fuck to forget it, so you adjusted your dress pushing up your breasts, afterall what a college party didn’t lack was hot singles.

As soon as you opened the door you were pushed back inside.

"E-Eren? What you—"

"Princess, can you help me with an issue?" he placed an arm behind you trapping you between the sink and his body, getting too close to your face and raising his phone in front of you, "Somehow, I managed to — completely sober —, text someone back and have no memory of it".

Shit.

You forgot to delete it.

“I—” you shook your head trying to find a decent explanation, although with the little space you had and with Eren’s deep green eyes looking down at you, suddenly you forgot everything.

He sighed, putting his phone down on the sink and lowering his head down to rest on your shoulder, his hot breath against your skin making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up.

“This would be much easier if you were not so…” he laced his arm around your lower back pressing your body against his.

“So what?” you sighed as you felt his lips touch your shoulder as he slid the strap of your dress down.

“...so perfect” his kisses trailed all the way to your neck where he started to lick and suck the sensitive skin.

This was so wrong, if anyone saw how your step brother was focused on tasting your skin, firm hands going up and down your hips feeling your curves...

A muffled cover of Paparazzi blasted across the room.

Promise I'll be kind

But I won't stop until that boy is mine

At how hazy your mind was with just his kisses you couldn’t care less, all you wanted was Eren.

You brought his face to yours, not being able to stand another second without feeling his lips on yours.

“How much have you drunk?” he asked one inch from touching lips with yours.

“Not much, but I would want this even if I was one hundred percent sober” you whispered again his lips, dark eyes stared at you with lust.

“Fuck, princess” he closed his eyes shut like he was struggling against his own thoughts.

“Eren, kiss me please” you begged caressing his face, you could just close the gap yourself but you wanted him to kiss you.

So he did.

How could he ever deny you anything?

Eren’s wish was to swallow you whole, yet he was patient, kissing your lips slowly as you melted against his arms, you dared to part your lips to allow his tongue in. The taste of soda and mints felt so good.

Eren felt so good.

You lowered your hands to explore his chest down till the hem of his pants where you tugged in a silent request for him to get rid of them.

“Wait, I don’t wanna do this here” he held your hands and picked up his phone putting it in his pocket.

Like in a flash you two passed all the people dancing and drinking till you were inside Armin’s car, in the back seat, his leather jacket and your hat already off.

“Eren, someone might see us” you whispered looking around the streets.

“Don’t worry, it’s dark out there and the guys won`t come yet” he assured, kissing your neck and making you straddle him, “God, I’m so happy I haven’t drunk anything” he squeezed your thighs just to confirm that you were there.

“Why haven’t you, by the way?” you asked putting your hands on his chest pushing him away from your neck to look him in the eye.

“Hmm...” Eren looked away, face and ears getting even more red than he already was, “Because of... Reiner”

“What about Reiner?”

“I had to make sure he wouldn’t make a move on y-you” the confused look on your face turned into an amusing one as you watched him getting flustered at the admission of his protectiveness.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you cooed cupping his face to kiss him again.

You were not as sober as he was, but the haziness in your mind was only contributing to make this moment more pleasing to you, like a luscious dream.

Eren wrapped his arms around your waist pulling your body impossibly closer to him, the position making very easy for you to feel his erection poking your pussy through his rough jeans, the friction so good against your sensible folds you couldn’t help grind on it.

“Fuck, princess, you’re gonna be the death of me” Eren threw his head back, hands crawling from your thighs to your ass, helping your back and forward moves on his lap.

You dropped your head on Eren’s shoulder to muffle your moans.

Even through thick jeans you could feel the outlines of his member rubbing between your soaked panties.

“I need you ‘Ren”

“Of course, princess” he reluctantly retracted his hands from you to get the condom on his wallet and to remove his shirt while you undid his belt, a wet spot on his pants touching your hands, but thankfully his jeans were black so no one would notice, “Come here” he grabbed your neck pulling you for a steamy kiss, both your tongues fighting with each other.

You pulled your underwear aside watching him roll the condom on his tall and hard member, Eren slightly raised your hips to sink on his length, both of you moaning and panting on each other's mouths during the process.

At that moment you felt envious of all the girls that Eren fucked before you, he never brought anyone over but you knew what he was up to when he came home late, or what he was going to do when he left the house all smiley after texting all day.

But now he was here, with you like you dreamed for so long.

“So deep” you cooed once he was all the way inside, even Eren had to take a moment to not cum right on the spot at the sensation of your tight walls hugging him.

“This pussy is mine now, you know that right?” he grabbed you by your jaw, head resting on the back seat and heavy breathing tickling your cheeks.

The sight of your stepbrother so pussy drunk and possessive over you brought chills to your spine. Words ran away from you, all you did was nod mouth agape.

“Good” he raised his head to kiss your chest sliding the straps of your dress down as you began to move on his dick, leaving just the tip in before you sank on it again.

Eren pushed your bra down to fully expose your breasts to his face, wasting no time to suck on them, one hand massaging it and another firm on your butt cheek. You placed your hand on top of his, making him grip your breast harder, desperately needing to touch him, as you picked up a pace.

“So, so good” he murmured to your chest nibbling your collarbones, “I`ve been wanting this for so long”.

Your hands began to wander to his chest, caressing the soft skin with tender, “Eren, help me” you cried kissing his cheek, thighs burning from the constant up and down movement on such small space, your stepbrother almost felt sorry for you.

Almost, because the sight of your teary eyes and trembling legs are too amusing to pass.

“Don’t worry, princess, next time I will make sure to get you more comfortable, now fuck yourself on my cock, can you do this?” he kissed the side of your head, the promise of a next time giving you the fuel to keep going

Eren helped by massaging your thighs, kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, just when you found a pleasing pace you felt his phone vibrate on your inner thigh, where his front pocket was.

“If it’s that bitch again, Eren, I swear to god…” you threatened, digging your nails on his chest.

“You’re hot when you’re angry” he laughed, pulling you down by your neck to peck your lips while fishing his phone out of his pocket, “Hmm we might have to hurry this up” he placed the phone down holding your hips to make you go faster.

“W-why?” you ask with a shaky voice when he started to rut his hips up hitting your sweet spot with ease.

“Armin said they will be leaving in five” Eren smiled at your widened eyes, like he wouldn’t be in the same compromising situation as you.

“E-Eren--” in your mind there was an attempt to tell him to stop for the sake of both your images, yet, since this was something you wanted for so long you couldn’t find the courage to stop when you were so close.

“Shh, I’ll make up for it later, okay” he reached a thumb down to your clit, already thinking how he would be eating you out with all the time in the world after this.

“Cum with me, ‘Ren” you begged, holding his hands firm on your hips.

This was all Eren needed to thrust faster, you felt his member twitching inside of you along with his thumb rubbing your bud harder, you screamed as your vision became colourful, your liquids gushing all over his thighs.

―――――――――――――――――――――

“Oh the two of you are here already” Armin said, meeting Eren who was leaning against the side of the car smoking and you on the back seat with the door open.

“My sister was feeling sleepy so we came to stay here”.

“Eren, your shirt is inside out” Belthold pointed out, you giggled, in the rush to dress up and discard the condom neither of you noticed it.

“Where’s Jean?” you asked, realizing it was just Armin, Reiner and Belthold.

“Jean went to some girl’s place, he asked you to not wait for him” Armin lightly punched Eren’s arm as he turned around the car to enter the driver’s seat.

“Oh, I have the dorm all to myself then” he winked at you entering the back seat.

chapter 2 >>

©all content belongs to cursingtoji. please do not modify or repost; if you find reposted content please let me know,

[writer-akihiko]

hi !! i saw that your asks are opened so im wondering if u could do chevalier, kenshin, and vlad with a demon mc? theyre all my homicidal babies so i was wondering how they would react to this :)

Demon!MC: Vlad, Kenshin + Chevalier

Thank you for this interesting request! It's a bit sensual, especially Kenshin's, so please be aware. Besides that, I explored a bit about the 'demon' part, because I really liked mixing the different aspects of demon especially with the backgrounds of the characters.

If you are under 18, do not read. This work contain sexual themes. Please also consider blocking the [#slightly not family friendly] tag on my blog because I still will be posting that kind of content.

Vlad

On nights he went out to kill, he found it strange that you wanted a hug before he went

The hug was a lengthy one too, neither was it sexual in any way

On certain nights, you'd ask for time alone. He was suspicious, so he had the others in the castle keep watch

In his mind, he feared you were finding a way to escape him. It ached whenever he thought about it

It was not long before he caught you, as you spent the time in your true form, with horns and wings out, tired of keeping up your appearance

Of course, you were terrified of your lover finding you in such a way. You didn't want to attack him, so you ended up curled in your wings, shying away from him

He said nothing, only walking over to you and carrying you in his arms, wings and all

He simply said that you were late to dinner, and it was history afterwards. Vlad explained that he knew you were one, but he didn't know what extent of a demon you were

Vlad never changed his attitude around you, although he'd be sad whenever you tried to hide your appearance

If anyone dared to say anything about you, they most likely won't have a voice to say their opinion afterwards…

Does he try to convince you to help him with his plans? Yes he does, everyday in fact

You refuse him, but for his entertainment you'd cast a few spells of magic here and there

Kenshin Uesugi

It was a very steamy night with your lover Kenshin. He'd been away from you far too long, so he had to spend time in your arms

The hours of the night went long, but your lover's lust was not quenched. You were well pleased with his actions

High after high brought you to a sense of overstimulation, and with each thrust you felt your control of your appearance fade away…

Kenshin had his fill of you, wanting to swaddle you in his love instead. He was about to reach out for his kimono, but his hands brushed against your horns…

He was afraid you were sick, but the moment he mentioned your markings, you pulled the blanket to your chest, scared of what he might do to you

Kenshin thought you were sick, and almost called one of the maids but you used your own powers to pause the moment between you two

It was new to Kenshin, finding out that you were a powerful Oni. He didn't think they existed, but one was right here, as his lover

Of course he's protecting you from the others. He knows some extremist would be out there to kill you, that is, until he kills them first

Around him, he told you to use your true form. He didn't mind, he wanted to see his YN all for himself

If you fed off of his lust, then he has plenty to give, especially lust towards you. Occasionally, the overwhelming sensations do have to be release through your magic…

He hasn't tried an invasion with your powers yet, since it is your powers and your choice. He'd be lying if he wasn't tempted to

Chevalier Michel

You were not the most adept at your powers, only an expert at concealing yourself

It just so happens that your emotions are well-connected to your being, so all it takes is just one trigger

That trigger just so happen to be Clavis, who pulled such a horrid prank, frightening both you and Luke. Being the one to scream, your cry caused a burst of flames at your feet

Clavis' coat caught on fire, but Luke had enough instinct to carry you away from the flames… and of course the oldest of the faction, your lover appeared in the nick of time…

Chevalier wondered why there was so much fire around the office, and particularly… why his lover was sprouting horns, a tail and wings…

Luke was quick to unhand the Princess Consort, and no one said a thing about the way Chevalier whisked you to his bedroom

He was straightforward, but not hateful. Despite your tears and fear of being killed, he had the same stone expression

One phrase from him stopped your crying. "But you're still Princess Consort YN, no?"

Chevalier's care for you doesn't change, but his curiosity does, especially with your abilities

It'd be a casual talk of books, but it'd then shift to the possibility of you dis-wording the books around you

Chevalier's eyes were in simple awe of you, and in awe of your magic

If Rholodite was to have a Bloody Tiger King such as himself, it was no surprise that they would be granted a Demon Queen like YN by his side

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[yanderart]

   Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

-------

Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo). 

-------

   You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset. 

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut. 

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold. 

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them. 

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

   But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight. 

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most  ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves. 

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night. 

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year. 

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.  

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality. 

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

   In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder. 

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment. 

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough. 

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted. 

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand. 

 A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk. 

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

   Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking,  chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead. 

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web. 

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.  

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas. 

   How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps. 

   Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.  

   Government lies and why they matter. 

   Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl). 

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum. 

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

   Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter. 

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

   I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question. 

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior. 

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen. 

   I just think it's amazingThe things you know

   How you share them with everyone

   The way you see through the lies

   I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation. 

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping. 

   I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too. 

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded. 

   I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros. 

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself. 

   I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out. 

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

   That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything? 

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

   Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either. 

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing. 

   So you really are a n00b then. 

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever. 

   And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game. 

Be more like you, you left unsaid. 

   So am I your senpai then? 

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback. 

   You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

   I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now. 

   Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind... 

   I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views. 

A welcomed change in topics. 

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

   Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you. 

   Well, yah. You make compelling arguments. 

   Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before. 

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins. 

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving. 

   I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath. 

   I can help you with that. 

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit. 

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point. 

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you. 

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

   Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust. 

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second. 

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well. 

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him. 

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required. 

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises. 

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap. 

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path. 

。。。。。

    Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.   

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand. 

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least. 

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner. 

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place. 

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness. 

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside. 

   Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you  received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you. 

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever. 

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

   And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well. 

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant. 

   I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up. 

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

   ...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together. 

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy. 

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there. 

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was. 

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance. 

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor. 

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" 

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back. 

。。。。。                                                      

   The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.  

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame. 

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest. 

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently. 

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.  

   Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time. 

   This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

   Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.  

   i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch. 

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated. 

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

   Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent. 

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with. 

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed. 

   and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement. 

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in. 

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.  

   Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against. 

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves. 

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

   how the fck did u get that

   I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats 

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

   You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as. 

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

   fucking delete that right now, man.

   this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT. 

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle. 

And he was doing it all in your name.

   Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to. 

   y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing. 

   They're a friend. 

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone. 

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments. 

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way. 

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

   Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.  

   Anything for you, [Y/N]. 

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture. 

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips. 

You truly looked angelic like that. 

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after. 

。。。。。                                                   

    But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present. 

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

   Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently. 

   Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

   Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods. 

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start. 

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you. 

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you. 

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived. 

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

 。。。。。

    Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago. 

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into. 

   Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

   You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face. 

   Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto. 

   Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I? 

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation. 

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating. 

。。。。。

   On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier. 

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive. 

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest. 

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit. 

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony. 

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

   In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements. 

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was. 

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable. 

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves). 

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline. 

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend. 

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements. 

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live. 

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self. 

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle. 

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com. 

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring. 

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by. 

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth. 

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions. 

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building. 

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

   Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe. 

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic. 

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors. 

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that. 

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.  

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief. 

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure. 

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space. 

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet. 

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second. 

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place. 

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours. 

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action. 

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. 

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages. 

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing. 

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind. 

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle. 

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it. 

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you. 

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite. 

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.    

。。。。。

   Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass. 

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled. 

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.  

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place? 

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper. 

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit. 

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you. 

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued. 

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to. 

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your  judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt. 

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time. 

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept. 

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation. 

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him. 

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans. 

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along. 

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways. 

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin. 

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not. 

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt. 

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them. 

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips. 

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole. 

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting. 

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer. 

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills. 

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning. 

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you. 

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down. 

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

   He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___; 

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni​, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight  😠 👑

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

[mysticmoonbooks]

Innocence (2) Lee Bodecker

Part 1 -- Part 3

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Female Original Character

Summary: Annabella Doyde, the daughter of Carl Doyde, was possibly the most beautiful girl in all of Ohio. Hell, you could probably even bet she was the prettiest in the country. She was short yet curvy, the sun dresses she wore hugging each curve in a way that any respectful man would call sinful. Even better, she was kind; regularly giving out free pie to kids at her fathers diner. She was the perfect woman. It made her everything that Sheriff Lee Bodecker was not.  

likes and reblogs appreciated!

Word count: 1,544 words

Warnings: Explicit content, Explicit Themes, Age!Gap (though not really major in this chapter), Oral (Male Receiving), Cheating  This is a mature fic. do not read if you are below 18.

To Anne, men were a game. One that she had never won before. She could wear her prettiest dresses, the softest smiles, and bat her eyes at them yet they never did much of anything. Men were always too afraid of her father or her to ever give her the attention she wanted.

She had been too confident for the city boys and too off limits for anyone in Ohio it seemed. As she opened the diner that day not expecting much. Sheriff Bodecker had avoided coming by for an entire month, but she understood. He was a married man and he had his reputation to think about. Probably didn’t want to worry about someone seeing them in the front seat of his cruiser.

It was a shock to her when he had walked in just as she turned the sign. No one else was in and wouldn’t be for a few hours. The only reason she opened at four in the morning was to do inventory. 

“Hi Sheriff, cooks not here yet.” Her voice was light, not giving away the intense arousal she was feeling. He took a seat at the counter and smiled at her, eyes drifting down the light blue dress she wore. Anne shivered slightly when she felt his gaze linger on her thighs, happy that she had his attention all to herself.

“That’s alright, Annabella.” His voice was low, watching as she bent to rifle through the drawer, looking for her coffee scoop. She grinned, feeling her dress inch up her legs, as she heard the Sheriffs breathe catch. The idea of his eyes glued to her body gave her that all too familiar whirl of excitement. 

“Just a coffee to-go.” He wasn’t making eye contact when she stood back up, only staring at the counter in front of him. 

_

Three more days went by before she got to see or hear of the Bodecker’s. Her father had been late getting in, something that wasn’t terribly uncommon, but as the hours passed she considered that she may have to go out looking for him. 

By the time her father had arrived at the diner it was nearly noon. He had that stupid smile on his face that he got whenever he was trying to hide some surprise. It wasn’t her birthday so it couldn’t be a gift of any kind, the man held his wallet closed tighter than anyone she ever knew. 

“Annie, I got good news.” He was moving around the kitchen as she finished up the morning dishes. He was pulling out all her baking things, flours and sugars quickly taking over the table. He handed her a piece of paper, a few things quickly jotted down in his usual terrible handwriting. 

They wanted her vanilla creme cupcakes, her winning ones that she made every county fair. No one knew her recipe or how she made them, it was the one thing she held as a closely guarded secret. The name written across the bottom gave her pause and made her grin all at the same time. The one and only Jane Bodecker ordered it, for her husband's birthday. 

-

The cupcakes had been so well received that it made Jane invite Anne to the sheriffs party. Now she stood in her sundress from work, the pale yellow standing out in the sea of beiges and different shades of off-white. Jane had been by her husband's side most the night, hanging off his arm and laughing at her friend's little comments. Now she stood off with Mrs. Petler and Mrs. Jacobs as they talked about their upcoming plans for the church bake sale. 

“Anne, would you bring your amazing cupcakes to the bake sale?” Anne hadn’t even noticed them approach her, she was too busy watching the Sheriff make polite conversation. 

“Oh, I’m not sure ma’am.” The words came out polite as she spoke with Mrs. Petler, the other two ladies lost in their own conversation. They were both very nice, Mrs. Jacobs being married to the town’s doctor and had been unable to produce kids. Jane herself had been with the sheriff nearly 7 years and they had no children, they became quick friends because of it.

“Oh you have to, darling! These are Lee’s favorite, you know, he requested Jane get them specially for the party.” Her whispered tone had Anne blushing as she glanced over at the man in question. To her glee, his eyes were already on her. They stared at each other like that until Anne found herself excusing herself from Mrs. Petler and heading upstairs, brushing the sheriff's arm as she did. 

It didn’t take her long to find the bedroom, it was the only room with a bed. She laid back on the soft bedspread, sighing to herself as her hands found the hem of her dress. Her fingers danced on her skin as she dipped into her panties. It felt so incredibly wrong, this was the bed of another woman, but the surge of confidence she felt had her drawing slow, torturous circles around her clit.

She thought of the sheriff as she did, the feeling of being on his lap again in front of her house. She hadn’t planned on the break in, but it gave her the perfect excuse. The feeling of his hands moving up her thighs, just a breath away from the lace of her panties, was something she cherished greatly. It was almost as good as the feeling of his cock, straining in his pants as he pressed against her soaked panties.

-

She had been lost in thoughts of him, barely noticing when Lee had gathered the courage to sneak upstairs when no one was looking. It didn’t take long to follow the sounds of her breathless moans as he took the last few steps into the room. He felt sweat bead at the back of his neck as he watched her fingers dip in and out of her. The sight of her in his bed had him harder than he thought possible. 

A quick clearing of his throat had her jumping up, now kneeling on the bed. Her eyes were wide, terrified at the idea of being caught doing something so sinful in the eyes of a small town like this. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” The strain in his voice gave away his thoughts and he knew it. He watched her eyes pause on the noticeable bulge in the front of his pants. The idea of taking her right then and there occurred to Lee, though he had to settle for just a little less. 

“I’m so sorry, Sheriff.” She scrambled off the bed and stood, as if she weren't lost in her own pleasure mere moments ago. She looked like any innocent girl, just a little lost. Her innocence made him pause and consider that maybe what he was about to do wasn’t exactly right, yet it wasn’t enough to stop him. 

“Why don’t you kneel, darling?” It only took a few steps to be standing in front of her as she shakily got to her knees. She was staring up at him with those eyes, her pupils blown wide as she tentatively reached out to rest her hand on his thigh. Her nerves were evident, though he could see that eager glint in her eyes as he unzipped his pants. It didn’t take her long to replace his hands with hers, making quick work of his pants and briefs. 

“I’ve never done this before, sir.” Her voice was whisper-quiet as she stared at his cock, the tip leaking as she watched. Lee ran his hand through her hair and pulled her closer, her mouth falling open on instinct. She took his cock easily, Lee letting out soft moans at the feeling of her wet mouth around him. Her tongue ran along the bottom as her hands came up to grip his thighs. 

“You’re perfect, darling. Just like a lollipop.” His grip tightened on her hair as he forced her head down farther. The whimpers and moans coming from her pushed him closer and closer as he watched her thighs rub together, her desperation to be touched. 

One of her hands wrapped around him and it felt like he was about to explode. The combination of the heat of her mouth and her soft skin made holding back impossible. His pace quickened as her eyes fluttered shut. Their moans mingled together as Lee shot thick streams of cum down the back of her throat. It took more than he cared to admit to pull out of her mouth and clean up. He caught a glimpse of his cum sitting on her tongue as she swallowed, sitting back on her heels as she watched him.

“Open your mouth, darling.” She had her mouth open before he even finished his sentence, making him smirk as he leaned down and spit into her mouth. She sat for just a second before swallowing, her face turning a dark red.

“Clean yourself up.” The words came out harsher than he intended, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was still kneeling as he left, only a few words making past her lips.

“Thank you, sir.” 

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[eirikaanemo]

My Celebrity Childhood Friend

Warnings: minor character death, sad feels

Venti x GN!Reader

2k Words

Many years ago, when you were eight years old, you had two very close friends. Their names were Venti and Himmel. The three of you did everything together. You were very close. All of you thought your friendship would be forever and that you would always be close. But, unfortunately, that's not what happened.

One day you and Venti received the news that Himmel had passed away. It was really difficult for both of you to accept the reality of his death, grieve, and move on with your lives. In the end, you couldn’t even help each other. Spending time together only reminded you of how Himmel wasn’t there anymore.

Eventually Venti just couldn’t take it anymore. So his family moved out. Losing Himmel had hurt, but losing Venti too reopened the almost healing wound in your heart. He didn’t even say goodbye because he thought he’d chicken out if he did. And so there you were, friendless, hurt, and feeling very, very alone.

Your only solace was in practicing the piano. The three of you had all been learning instruments and playing together before. The idea was to become a band of sorts together and play music professionally. Himmel played violin, Venti played guitar, and you played piano. Playing the piano was all you had left of them, so you continued playing and practicing it.

Years pass and you move on as much as you can. You make new friends and try new things. Piano is still important to you but you do new things now too. But even with all of this, there’s a part of you that left with Venti and Himmel. The hurt in your heart is no longer a gaping wound. Yet the pain has never truly gone away.

Then one day you hear a familiar voice on the radio. That voice and guitar combo sounded very familiar. It was a good song and you enjoyed listening to it, but you just couldn’t get the feeling of familiarity out of your mind. However, once the radio host introduced the song, you immediately understood. “And that was Soaring Bird by The Bard. Venti really did himself proud on this one…,” they continued, but you were no longer listening.

Venti was on the radio! What could this mean? You hurriedly took out your phone and ran a search. There he was, Venti, also known as The Bard, is a singer/songwriter who rose to fame after a stint on a television talent show a couple months ago. Well, what do you know? Your childhood friend has followed your childhood dream.

Part of you feels left behind, but you accepted that had happened years ago. So instead you decided to be supportive! Suddenly you have a new favorite singer and you just have to have all his albums. Physical copies, so you can display them. Your bedroom walls are covered with posters.

You now have more The Bard themed t-shirts than you have regular shirts. There’s a concert of his you can go to? You’re there. You promote him with everyone you know. If you hadn’t converted your friends to the truth of Venti supremacy they probably would have gotten sick of your antics by now. Instead they’re almost as invested as you are.

When he finally releases a new album you are thrilled. It’s been almost a year since he released his last one and you’ve been starving for new content. You are first in line to the store to buy the album and listen to it as soon as possible. Track one through four are fantastic and you enjoy them a lot! But then track five starts to play.

It’s more melancholy and nostalgic than other songs he has written. And then you hear the words. The words touch your heart, soothing and healing some of the pain that has remained. At the end he takes a moment to dedicate it to his childhood friend, to you. Not by name, but you know what he means by “my old childhood friend”. You’re tearing up.

I’m sorry I was too blind to see

That you were suffering as much as me

You were left behind, I was moving on

And you were left to carry on

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair

That I chose to just leave you there

We’re not really close now, are we

But I just want to say I’m sorry

You listened to it over and over again, crying in your room. Maybe it was stupid but that was something you didn’t even know you’ve been wanting to hear for years. Knowing that he felt bad about leaving you behind and hearing an apology from him meant the world to you.

And it just so happens that the song he dedicated to you is your friends’ new favorite song. If they didn’t know about your history with him before, then they sure know now. You’re still struggling to not cry every time it plays. Sure, maybe some of your dirty laundry was now being aired all around the world. But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that your heart was finally able to heal. You were truly able to feel happy again, for the first time since you were eight years old. Life had color again. There was more of a bounce to your step. Your friends noticed that your smiles even seemed more real now.

So when you learned that Venti would be doing an album signing event, you just knew you had to go. And you knew just which album you wanted to have signed. Now all you could think about was getting the album signed. How would he react to seeing you again? Would he recognize you? You really hope he does. It would really hurt if he doesn’t.

All of a sudden you’re now worrying if this is a good idea at all. Your friends managed to convince you to go, but you were really close to not going at all. And even now that you’re here at the signing you’re half considering running away. But instead you steel your courage and get in line.

You try not to think about it as the line slowly creeps forward. Making small talk with those around you in line might help, but you’re too nervous to even try social interaction. You’re twentieth in line, then tenth, then fifth, then second. Now it’s your turn and you approach the table he’s sitting at to sign the albums.

He’s wearing a white button up shirt, green slacks, and a green beanie with a flower on it. He’s dyed the tips of his braids teal and wears some light makeup to bring out the color of his eyes. You suddenly feel very underdressed as you anxiously walk up and hand him the album.

“Hi Venti,” you say softly. “It’s good to see you again.” He looks up sharply and freezes for a second, wide eyed. “Oh my gosh!” He exclaims, jumping up out of his seat. “It’s so good to see you again! It’s been so long!” You smile, feeling more comfortable and sure of yourself now that you know he recognizes you.

Someone behind him clears their throat and sits back down. “I can’t really talk right now,” he admits, sheepishly. “We don’t want to hold up the line, but hold on a sec.” He opens the album and scribbles something on the inside of the opaque cover. “That’s my number,” he whispers quietly to you. “Text me later, okay? I’ll get back to you when I can.”

You nod and move on, only realizing he didn’t actually sign the case until you were down the hall from where he was signing. Laughing a little, you sit down on a bench and pull out your phone. That was such a Venti-like thing for him to do. Sometimes he would get so excited that he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing.

Opening your texting app, you typed in his number and sent him a message.

You: Hi! Is this the right number? I’m the one you wrote song number five about.

It took a couple hours for him to reply. Which is very understandable considering how he was probably signing albums for a while.

Venti: Yes! This is the right number! It’s so good to hear from you again :)

Venti: And I’m so glad you heard that song

Venti: I really am sorry about leaving like that

You: I won’t lie and say that it’s fine, because it really hurt that you left like that

You: But I really appreciate your song that you wrote for me. I cry every time I hear it

Venti: Oh no! I didn’t mean to make you sad :(

You: Happy tears, Venti. They’re all happy tears

Venti: Oh, okay, that’s good :)

Venti: Want to come eat lunch with the staff and me?

Venti: They’re all really curious about you

Venti: The mysterious childhood friend I wrote a whole song about

You: Sure! How do I find you?

Venti: You don’t! Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up ;)

You send him your location and wait around for someone to come pick you up. After a while a nicely dressed woman approaches you and gestures for you to follow her. She leads you to a car and drives you to a restaurant. A waiter takes you to one of the closed off rooms for group events.

Approximately two seconds after the door is closed, you are hug tackled to the floor. Venti cheerfully cheers your name right into your ear. You grumble good naturedly and swat at him until he laughs and gets off you. He offers his hand, you take it, and he helps you stand up. Some chuckles from the staff tell me they’re just as amused as he is by the situation.

This sets the tone for your lunch. It’s lighthearted and you have a great time getting to know each other again. He introduces the staff and they admit they’ve been curious about his childhood friend he wrote a song about. You enjoy eating lunch with them a lot, and all of you are disappointed when you have to go.

You continue to chat as long as you can while preparing to leave. As you’re gathering your stuff to go, you come across the album that he never actually signed. “Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Venti, you never actually signed my album!”

“Whoops! I’ll sign that right now.” He declares. “Though I must admit that I feel a little awkward signing stuff for you.” Finishing writing with a flourish, he hands the album back to you. “But I guess I better get used to it,” he continues. “You better bring the rest of the albums next time!”

Your smile is so bright that he has to squint for a moment.. “I’m looking forward to it already.” You say. “See you later?” He beams right back. “Yep! I’ll let you know the next time we can meet up!”

The grin stays on your face all the way home.

You meet up whenever you can after that, though your schedules don’t always match up enough to allow it. Video calls are common when he goes on tour. It’s like the two of you never split. And eventually your friendship becomes something more.

“Hey, could I ask you a question?” Venti asks you over a video call one night. He’s acting a little funny, nervous with a dash of hope and excitement. “Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like a date?” You chuckle, amused. “Venti, you’re on tour right now. It’s not like we could go out to dinner or something.”

“You’re right that we can’t go out to dinner together, but we could eat at the same time over a video call! I’ll even call and order food for you or something!” Venti plans. “Sure,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He shouts. “I’m gonna make this the best long-distance date ever!”

And so he does.