#i'm obsessed with old men it's not a problem

[majaloveschris]

For CE, they couldn’t accept AB and that’s why the whole racism and problematic friends came into play so quickly after they went public. IMHo, the fandom needed a reason to dislike her even though she is easily able to be disliked even without her dumb friends tweets. She has no talent, no charisma, seemingly no work ethic, and is an obvious clout chaser with a very bizarre Lolita obsession and a weird obsession with older men.//

Maja I know you try to cultivate a space where everyone feels safe to express their opinion but this is absolutely insane. The implication here by saying “the racism came into play because the fandom needed a reason to dislike her” is that no one actually cares about her documented history of racist and white supremacist behavior. That the fandom only uses it as an excuse to hate because if they weren’t looking to hate her it would have been such a non issue. Yall are so nasty. I’ve been here since end of 2021, and I never really liked him until the pandemic. People didn’t know about any of that until November/December after the pap walk because the fandom didn’t actually go digging until then. The bread crumbling and everything leading up to SMA was a back and forth with the fandom bc he acted single the entire time! And THEN She posted a naked video of herself on Instagram to deflect. And the fandom is just making shit up to hate???? This is a slap in the face to every WOC in this fandom or was in this fandom.

Also to their point about “if she was his age posting Lolita shit would it still be a problem???” YES. ARE YOU INSANE. Having such a public platform catering to an age regressor kink for men is BAD. No matter how you try to spin it. Now we know it was because she was literally catering to clients who pay for her exclusive content (thanks chaturbate copyright!!!) but it literally doesn’t matter how old you are. Using the Lolita/leon/coquette aesthetic to sell sex is always objectively BAD.

This is exactly why I wanted to answer that ask, to let that person know that what they think is not true. Most people don't like her because of her personality and her behavior; that's it, and that's the truth. As I said before, I'm not saying that even if she was the sweetest and kindest human being who was around Chris's age, there wouldn't be people who hated her just because, but I also don't like when people downplay the things they've said and done and say the fans made it up or overreacted it. 

The reason why I didn't mention the whole timeline thing you did is because at the very beginning, most people didn't think it was real, and they were already mad at them for trolling a lot. And not so long after the pap walk, people found those things, so everything kind of merged together at the time. But I do agree that the main reason most people don't like her is because of her personality and because of her friends, and it's really sad people downplay the seriousness of it. 

She can do whatever with her body, but she shouldn't act like this innocent little girl. If you want to sell your videos online, do it; who cares? But then please, own it. And I hate this whole Lolita shit. It is so toxic and disgusting. 

[mccoys-killer-queen]

They™, your honor

[rivstyx]

they're dads now. sorry i don't make the rules

bonus:

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[girltalkcollectives]

Double Standard Dictionary: A Guide to Things That Are Only "Problems" When Women Do Them

Let's have an honest conversation about something that drives me absolutely crazy. You know those little comments and judgments that somehow only seem to apply to women? Yeah, we need to talk about that.

The Professional Edition

When men vs. when women do the exact same thing:

He's assertive → She's aggressive

He's focused → She's cold

He's passionate → She's emotional

He's dedicated → She's obsessed

He's confident → She's arrogant

He's strategic → She's manipulative

He's busy → She's neglecting her life

The Dating Double Standards

The classics that never seem to die:

He's dated around → She has "a past"

He's a bachelor → She's "left on the shelf"

He's selective → She's picky

He's career-focused → She's married to her job

He's a social butterfly → She's attention-seeking

He's "finding himself" → She needs to settle down

He's direct → She's desperate

The Appearance Police

The endless contradictions:

Look professional, but not too try-hard

Be attractive, but not attention-seeking

Wear makeup, but keep it "natural"

Be fit, but not too muscular

Dress well, but not too sexy

Look youthful, but not immature

Age gracefully, but never look old

The Emotion Edition

How it's perceived:

His anger is justified → Her anger is hysteria

His sadness is deep → Her sadness is dramatic

His stress is from hard work → Her stress is from "not coping"

His excitement is enthusiasm → Her excitement is over-the-top

His concerns are valid → Her concerns are paranoid

His anxiety is pressure → Her anxiety is weakness

The Family Chronicles

The never-ending judgment:

He's babysitting → She's just parenting

He's helping around the house → She's doing her job

He's focused on work → She's neglecting family

He needs time to himself → She's selfish

He's weighing his options → She's wasting time

He's figuring out what he wants → Her clock is ticking

The Office Politics

Things I'm tired of seeing:

Men get mentored → Women get hit on

Men network → Women "sleep their way up"

Men are busy → Women "can't handle it"

Men are thorough → Women are perfectionists

Men delegate → Women are lazy

Men need work-life balance → Women are uncommitted

The Social Scene

The ridiculous expectations:

Be fun but not too wild

Be social but not too friendly

Be smart but not intimidating

Be successful but not threatening

Be independent but not difficult

Be strong but still need help

Be confident but still humble

The Success Paradox

What we're dealing with:

Be ambitious but not threatening

Lead but don't be bossy

Achieve but don't outshine

Negotiate but don't be demanding

Succeed but stay likeable

Excel but remain modest

Win but make it look effortless

The Reality Check

What this actually means for us:

Constant second-guessing

Walking on eggshells

Energy drain from overthinking

Imposter syndrome

Reduced authenticity

Limited self-expression

Unnecessary stress

The Way Forward

What we can do about it:

Call it out

Name the double standard

Question the logic

Point out the inconsistency

Support other women

2. Break the patterns

Reject unfair labels

Define success personally

Set our own standards

Celebrate authenticity

3. Change the narrative

Share success stories

Highlight achievements

Create new networks

Mentor others

To Every Woman Dealing With This

Remember:

You're not "too much"

Your achievements are earned

Your feelings are valid

Your ambitions are worthy

Your standards are important

Your voice matters

Your path is yours

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[suiana]

wait yall i think im cooking with this one...

imagine yandere! cell mate and yandere! police officer threesome??? even better if the two of them are friends with each other???

so you do lots of petty crime right, and dear ol' police officer comes back again for the nth time to throw you into your cell until you get bailed out by your family or something. you're ecstatic to see that your cell mate is yet again the same old guy who has grown a weird obsession with you over your numerous jail visits.

you still remember the first time you met him. he was sitting on the floor, dozing off until you ruined his peace and tranquility with your yelp.

"...new bunkie huh? what you in for?"

"vandalism. i wrote cock and balls on the train floor."

"cool, I'm in here for murder."

from there, a beautiful friendship (more like one-sided love) was formed. you'd come and stay in there with him for a day or two before disappearing for a week. then you'd, repeating the cycle.

"you're back again. what did you do this time?"

"public nuisance. i shouted all men should be breedable on the streets and the straights didn't like that."

your cell mate is absolutely enamoured by you at this point and he can't help but stare at you like you've hung the stars in the sky. sure, it took a bit of time getting used to you but before he knew it, you had become the center of his life and he wanted nothing more than to have you be his bunkie for life.

can't forget about our dearest police officer too. he was actually the first one to fall for you. the second he laid eyes on you, it was like his whole life was changed. all of a sudden, everything looked like a romance movie with you and him as the main actors.

of course, the two of them realize that the other is in love with you and vice versa. yan police officer could bend the rules and have you all to himself, but he's by no means a traitor. if his best friend loves you, he should share too, right? so the two of them come to a compromise and agree to share you.

the only problem is getting you to stay there permanently. after all, you've never really done anything... major before. all just slight annoyances at most.

your cell mate can only hope and wish that you'd murder someone to land yourself a life imprisonment. your police officer totally agrees with him and even proposes a solution to their dilemma.

what if they frame you for a serious crime?

after all, nothing is too much if it means having you with them forever.

[imagine-you]

all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? and closer to where I started. Now that you've decided to put the past behind you, you're focused solely on what the future holds for you, Logan, and your family. Whether that means teaming up with the X-Men to help stop the escalated attacks around the city or sitting down for a nice dinner with Logan, Laura, and Wade, you're ready for all of it. You're so close to being completely happy until you find yourself a victim of one of the attacks and find out that someone from Logan's universe has managed to return. You never expected your new life to be easy, but you certainly never thought Logan's wife would show up and disrupt everything you had built for yourself. Word Count: 9k Author's Note: This chapter may contain: Angst, Reader Whump, Surprise Cameos, Angst, A New Villain, A Disrupted Villain Origin Story, Training Montages, Angst, A Smidge of Hope, Illusions, and…Angst. (but I swear the angst gets resolved. y'all have to trust me!! there will be a happy ending for this fic.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // closer to where I started

Read on AO3

If anyone had told you while you were stuck in the Void that there was a future where you found yourself in another universe and your greatest wish had come true, then you would have chalked it up to a pipe dream and left it at that. If anyone had told you there was a future where your worst nightmare had come true, well then, that would've been easier to believe.  

"What are you making?" Laura asked, peering over your shoulder to get a look at the stove.  

"Something special," you told her, winking at her when she let out an impatient huff. "Steak and pasta," you clarified, turning your attention back to where you were spooning sauce over the steaks, hoping the flavor carried through for you.  

After getting back from your original universe, you had felt like the weight of the past had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn't give a fuck about your original Logan and as far as you were concerned, he could fuck off into whatever happy existence he wanted with Jean. Did you want them to suffer? Maybe. But it was no longer a requirement for you to heal.  

Your Logan had made sure of that.  

Now, weeks had passed, and you felt like a new person. Gone was the obsession with the past and in its place was now your excitement for the future.  

Your future with Logan and Laura and even Wade. Your future with a new family and a new team. Life hadn’t given you a moment of rest, but you were happy to know that when your back was against the wall, you had people ready to jump in and protect you from whatever hit came your way.  

All of you had spent the last couple of weeks wrapped up in the escalated attacks happening throughout the city. There weren't many indicators about who exactly was causing them. Half the time, there were explosions and other times it was just an outright slaughter.  

Logan and Wade were out trying to help the X-Men clean up the latest catastrophe. You had opted to stay home with Laura, taking a moment of well-deserved rest from running from one tragedy to the next. Logan had left you with a promise to return that evening and a kiss that hinted at more later.  

You thought it was cute how Logan kept insisting he was retired, but the first sign of trouble, and he couldn't help but jump right in. It was why you loved him, because even though he had spent years spiraling after the devastation he faced with his old life, he still couldn't help but try to make things better for others.  

You liked to think you had a little something to do with that.  

Even though you were just within reach from a perfect existence, you knew it still wasn't without its problems. You and Logan still had a lot of work to do. Both of you were still holding things close to the chest, afraid to show them and lose everything you had earned.  

Sometimes, you caught Logan simply watching you, wary and concerned, as if he thought you were about to leave him. Other times, when Logan woke in the middle of the night and reached for you, you wondered if he knew it was you or if he still held onto the memory of his wife, seeking her for comfort. Logan had been open and honest with you, but you sometimes got the feeling that he wasn't telling you everything. Some nights, when you couldn't sleep, you would lie awake and watch him, terrified that if given the chance he would leave you in a heartbeat for his old life.  

You always had the feeling like the other shoe was about to drop, so you had taken on the mentality that you were going to enjoy every day you got with him. Which was why you were hellbent on making the perfect dinner and having the perfect dessert all ready to go when he got back home. 

"Shit," you hissed when you started stirring together the ingredients for the pasta sauce. "I forgot one thing," you groaned, glancing over at Laura. "I've got to go out to grab something. Will you keep an eye on this for me? Just make sure it doesn't burn," you instructed her when Laura gifted you with a skeptical look. 

"What if it burns?" Laura wondered, reaching out to take the spoon from you when you handed it to her.  

"Then we'll order takeout," you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. "It won't be a big deal, but I still want to try to get this right," you told her, reaching out to flick her ear. 

Laura turned a glare on you, and you knew if you were anyone else, she would have already brought out her claws. You saw a fond smile take the place of her scowl before she shook her head. "Hurry," she urged you, turning a wary look at the stove.  

"Ten minutes," you promised, reaching out to grab your keys and wallet. "Just going down to the corner store." You saw Laura open her mouth and you knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, I'll get the cookies," you told her, thinking of the chocolate monstrosities she was so obsessed with lately.  

Laura grinned at you, pleased, and cautiously began to stir the sauce.  

You locked the apartment door behind you. You knew Laura was more than capable of taking care of herself and she had already been through hell and back, but you couldn't help but want to protect her in every way you could. She was still a kid, even if she would point out she was seventeen.  

You made it to the tiny market just around the corner from your apartment within four minutes. You were eager to get back and finish dinner. You couldn't wait to see the look on Logan's face when you had dinner all set up and told him that Laura even helped make it. You knew Wade would invite himself to dinner, so you would of course have extra just for him. You knew you wouldn’t be here without him, and while he drove you crazy, you now couldn’t imagine your life without him in it.  

You were a family, fucked up and weird, but full of love.  

You grabbed the cookies Laura wanted and searched for a can of black olives. You caught sight of the spices and started in that direction to see if there was anything extra you wanted to add to the sauce. You figured you had maybe five minutes to get back before Laura insisted she did everything she could to salvage dinner, but maybe you should just order pizza.  

You were reaching out to grab a bottle of parsley flakes when you noticed something pass right in front of you. You startled at the sight of the playing card, faintly glowing pink, as it sailed towards the shelves in front of you.  

You didn't even have time to prepare before the card landed and the shelves exploded. You brought your arms up, trying to shield your face from the shrapnel. The force of the blast was strong enough to throw you back into the shelves behind you. You felt your head connect with the edge of one the shelves and stars exploded in your vision.  

There was a ringing in your ears and the taste of blood in your mouth. Your head felt like it was spinning as you struggled to open your eyes, not even sure when you had closed them.  

You could hear footsteps approaching you and you managed to squint up at the person standing in front of you. Your gaze drifted from his boots to his trench coat and then up to his eyes. They were glowing a faint red.  

"Remy?" You groaned, reaching up to press a hand to your forehead. You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what was going on. You looked at your fingers and they were stained red, blood coating them. Your face was stinging from the bits of shrapnel you hadn’t been able to shield yourself from and the back of your head was aching in a way you had never felt before.  

Remy crouched down in front of you. He reached out and tucked his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Now, I know we've never met before, so how is it you know my name?" He turned your head one way and then the other, considering you for a brief moment, before he made a thoughtful noise. "Oh, but believe me, we're going to get to know each other real well, bon ami. Just you wait." His eyes were no longer glowing, but there was a devious look in them you didn't like.  

You attempted to sit up, but your vision swam and you felt like you were going to throw up. “What the hell are you doing?” You attempted to ask, but your words were slurred, and you were having a hard time concentrating on him even though he was right in front of you.  

"Let's get you home, hm?" Remy said, gathering you up in his arms. He stood, lifting you with him, and you tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was clutching you tightly enough that you couldn’t move.  

The last thing you saw was the underside Remy's jaw and the blur of the ceiling tiles above you before darkness swept in to collect you.  

You woke to sunlight that had escaped past the curtains in your bedroom and crept right towards you. It was an unwelcome intrusion and you brought your hand up to shield your eyes.  

You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up, before squinting at your surroundings. Your head was aching, each pound of your heart sending a bolt of pain right behind your eyes. You didn’t remember drinking the night before or even crawling into bed, but it felt like the worst hangover you had ever experienced. 

"Fuck," you grumbled before forcing yourself out of bed. Logan seemed to already be up, and you wondered if he had liked your dinner the night before. There was something wrong, something off, but you didn't know what it was yet. You were having trouble thinking past the pain.  

You walked towards your bedroom door, intent on hunting down the bottle of painkillers you kept in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You tried to think about what happened before you fell asleep and finally your memories came back to you in a dizzying rush.  

Making dinner, leaving Laura in charge, and locking the door behind you. Going to the store, a playing card that ending in an explosion, and Remy promising to take you home.  

"I had the weirdest dream," you muttered as you stumbled out into the living room. The pain in your head spiked with every footstep and your mouth was so dry your tongue felt like it was sticking to the roof of your mouth.  

The first thing you noticed was that Logan was sitting at the kitchen table and the second was that he wasn't alone. You froze just a few feet away from the table trying to make sense of what was in front of you.  

Because Logan was there in his usual seat at the table and he had his hand outstretched over the surface. His hand was clutching the stranger's like a lifeline and he looked as if the person in front of him had just saved him from his own personal torment.  

You slowly rounded the table, a twisting feeling of dread in your gut, as you got a look at the stranger.  

It was you.  

Well, not you. She had a scar crossing one of her eyes and her hair was a different color. She carried herself with more confidence, her shoulders not slumped and head held high. She was wearing the same yellow and blue X-Men suit you first saw your Logan in when you were trapped in the Void.  

But she was still undeniably you. Just a variant you could have been in another universe.  

"What?" You felt helpless as you looked to her and then to Logan. Pain had been overtaken by confusion and now you felt like you were going to pass out for an entirely different reason. "What's going on?" 

"My wife," Logan said, finally tearing his gaze away from her to look at you. "She's back. A portal opened up last night and she walked right through it." His voice was filled with incredulous awe, and it felt like there was a knife digging into your chest. Your breath hitched and you tried to push past the feeling being carved out right where your heart resided.  

You didn't think it could get any worse until you noticed the look of pure love and adoration he gifted her. You had only ever seen that look aimed at you and seeing it given so freely to someone else had you clenching your fists at your sides, anger washing over you.  

"So, what?" You snapped, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your tone. "She's just going to live here now? We'll all be one big happy family?" You didn't want to fight anyone for Logan's attention. Not again. Not after what happened with Jean in your other universe. You couldn't lose again. You wouldn't.  

Logan stared up at you before he finally looked back at his wife. "We're still married," he pointed out, brushing his thumb gently over the wedding ring on his wife's hand. "And she was my first love," he continued, twisting the knife deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave her again." 

You watched the couple in front of you, frozen in that moment. Hurt and indecision rose within you and you felt trapped.  

"So, what does that mean for me?" Your voice sounded so small and scared that you almost didn't believe it was yours. You had never felt this way with your Logan before and you didn't know what to do.  

Logan finally tore his gaze away from his wife to look at you again.  

"I'm sorry, but now that I have her back...," he trailed off, letting you assume the rest for yourself. "You can stay until you find somewhere else to go," he offered, as if it was any consolation.  

You let out a hollow little laugh as you took a step away from him. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Logan, after everything you had been through together, was giving you up as if you meant nothing to him. The same ache and loneliness you felt back in your original universe was descending on you again. You thought you had put those feelings behind you, but now you were having to confront them again in the worst way.  

Because this Logan had loved you like the other one never had and this one had promised never to hurt you. But here he was, crushing any hope you had that this Logan would be different.  

You forced yourself to turn around, putting your back to them. You couldn't stand to look at them anymore.  

You were faced with Laura standing there in the doorway of the apartment. She was silent, watching you, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that told you this wouldn't go your way either.  

"Laura, I--," you started as you approached her, not even sure where you would end up. "Do you want to come with me?" Was what you settled on, because evidently you couldn't stay here. You had been through so much with Laura. You had survived the Void together and fought together just to survive. Surely, that had to mean something to her. ‘Don’t leave me all alone,’ was what you wanted to beg, but you didn’t want Logan to have the satisfaction of seeing you brought down to your lowest point.  

Laura took a few steps forward and you wondered if she would meet you in the middle. Instead, she walked past you and stood at the table, joining Logan and his wife. "I can't lose him again," Laura said, echoing your thoughts. Except, Laura could stay and you had to go.  

You saw Logan's wife, the other you, the one he was choosing over you, reach out to flick Laura's ear. Instead of snapping at her, Laura turned a fond, soft smile on the other you and you felt another piece of your heart break.  

That was your thing with Laura and that should have been your smile. Logan's wife had swept in and cleared you out, leaving no room for you.  

You could feel the fight or flight instinct rising within you and you chose to get the hell out of there. It wasn't your home anymore, because someone had filled your role. You were no longer needed.  

You didn't even know where you were going to go, but you somehow found yourself right at Wade's doorstep. You brought your hand up to knock, terror and despair coursing through you.  

Wade answered the door in a suit and tie. You would have asked him what the hell was going on, but he didn't give you a chance to talk. He leaned on the doorframe, considering you with a grimace. "I thought you'd show up here after you found out." 

"You know?" You weren't sure why it felt like such a betrayal, but you always thought Wade would have had your back. Why didn't he track you down and warn you? Why had no one just given you some kind of heads up that you would be completely ousted from the life you had built for yourself with Logan? 

"Sure do, baby bird," Wade confirmed with a quick nod of his head. There was something off in his tone. This didn't feel like the same Wade you had come to know and reluctantly love. This almost felt like a stranger wearing a Wade mask. "I was there when she showed up. Just walked right out of that portal and into Logan's arms like she hasn't been dead for the past who knows how long." 

You hated that you could picture that perfectly, as if Wade's memory was playing out in your head.  

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm not needed anymore now that he has who he really wants." You felt like an idiot for ever thinking you were more than just a placeholder for Logan's wife. You didn't want to cry in front of Wade, but you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.  

Wade tilted his head to the side, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. "So, what are you gonna do now?" 

"Can I stay here?" You tried, knowing that you couldn't go back to your apartment. You didn't want to ever step foot in there again, knowing that the bright, happy memories you had created were now tainted with misery.  

Wade brought his foot back, kicking the door to his apartment open enough for you to see Vanessa seated at the table. "No can do," Wade answered with a wince. "You see, I'm trying to win her back over and I'm already sharing a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al, so it's a little cramped around here. But hey, if you join the X-Men, it usually comes with free room and board. They'll take anyone," he got out on a laugh, before he waved his hand. "Well, except for me. You shoot one person," he lamented, shaking his head in disappointment. "Or, hey, I hear Love Island is casting. Might be time to find you a new boo." 

"So," you started, trying to reconcile the fact that you no longer had a home with Logan and now you couldn't find one either with Wade. "I can't stay here," you said, and it was no longer a question, it was just a fact of your new lonely, pathetic existence. 

There was something so off about everything that had happened that day and you were trying to make sense of all of it. You had just spent the night before making a special dinner for your family and now you didn't even have one.  

Everything was happening so fast that you felt like you weren’t even really processing it. Why hadn’t you just stayed at the apartment and fought for Logan? This was your life. Your home, your family, your love. Why were you just giving it all up so easily? You didn’t understand, but now you weren’t even sure you would be able to force yourself to go back. 

"No," Wade admitted, with a sheepish grin. "It's not only Vanessa, you see, but Logan. I mean, Deadpool and Wolverine are a package deal now. There's no breaking up that superhero wet dream team and if I'm harboring his ex? Then that'll just make it more awkward than the time I used his toothbrush on Dogpool. Trust me, he made me regret that one. There are some places those claws of his should not go," he warned with a shudder.  

Hearing Wade refer to you as Logan's ex broke something inside you. You could feel hurt begin to overwhelm you, swiftly replaced by anger. You let out a short, sharp scream of frustration. You didn't even realize you had formed a forcefield around you and pushed out with it until you realized Wade had been knocked several steps back.  

"Y/N--" Wade started, but you turned away from him.  

You didn't want to be placated and you didn't want to deal with anymore of Wade's nonsense. You let yourself go invisible, knowing that it was the only way you would feel safe now.  

You wandered around the neighborhood for hours, trying to figure out where you belonged. You trudged from street to street before unerringly finding your way back to your apartment complex once night fell. You didn't dare go inside, but you stayed out on the sidewalk. People passed by you, never knowing you were even there, and you kept your gaze up on the window that shone brightest in the dark.  

Logan was up there. He was with his wife and Laura and they were a family in their home enjoying a night together. You were no one with nothing and no home to share with anyone. 

You weren't sure why you stayed there for so long, but you thought it had something to do with hope and an inane wish that he would come downstairs and tell you it was all some sick joke. You thought of his promise that he would always find you, even when you were hidden, but that hadn't been true either.  

Logan was happy without you, because he had what he really wanted all along. So, why would he come find you when he didn't even need you anymore? 

Or worse, Logan knew you were down here and just didn't care about you anymore.  

With that revelation, you turned and walked away. There was a swirling mess of thoughts stuck in your head that dredged up the same old insecurities you thought you had shed once and for all.  

You would never be good enough. You were unloved. You didn't matter. You weren't worth anything. 

You had no one.  

You felt tears slide down your cheeks as you aimlessly roamed from place to place. You next found yourself outside the X-Mansion, wondering if you should take Wade's advice and join up with the X-Men. As much as you longed to feel like you belonged somewhere, you didn't think you could go back to saving people with a smile on your face like you weren't slowly withering inside.  

There was a whisper of your name on the air. You glanced over your shoulder, looking to see who called your name, but you found no one. It had been so faint that you might have imagined it, but there was a feeling, an electrified touch, that had briefly set your nerves alight.  

You weren't sure what time it was, but you were exhausted. You found it pathetic and sad that you didn't have anywhere to go. You didn't even have money for a hotel room. All you could think to do was find a park and drop down onto a bench. At the very least, you knew you could protect yourself if anyone tried to attack you.  

You formed a forcefield around you, ignoring the fact that it would only slip away while you slept, and let yourself drift away.  

When you woke, you weren't alone. You jolted in place, suddenly wide awake, and scrambled to sit up. On the bench across from yours, a man was sitting reading a newspaper.  

He quirked an eyebrow at you when he realized he had your attention.  

"I was wondering when you would wake up," he said, lowering the newspaper.  

He had dark eyes and darker hair. He wore a suit with a black trench coat, but the illusion of a businessman was ruined by the combat boots he was wearing. His skin was pale and there was a faint ring of red around his eyes that had you wondering if he was wearing makeup. His appearance, oddly enough, seemed false, but the grin on his face was genuine, if a bit unsettling.  

"Were you watching me?" You couldn't help but wonder, half-torn between becoming invisible to make your escape and staying to get answers.  

"Yes," he answered, unashamed by his actions. "I thought it fascinating that someone would let you stay out here all alone. You don't deserve that, so I stayed to keep watch over you." 

You wanted to tell him you could take care of yourself, but you didn't feel so sure about that anymore. The reminder of your loneliness crept up on you and you could feel doubt settle over you. You were on your own now without a team. No one was going to come save you if you found yourself in trouble. You would simply have to claw your own way out.  

"What's your name?" You decided to ask instead, studying him from across the small concrete path that separated you.  

"Nathaniel," he introduced himself with a smile. "And you are?" 

"Y/N," you returned, with a half-hearted wave.  

"Now, I know we just met, but I do have one thing on my mind," Nathaniel started, leaning in towards you after placing his newspaper on the bench beside him. "What on earth are you doing out here all by yourself?" 

You felt your lips twist to the side in a frown as you bit down on the side of your mouth to keep a lid on the emotions that threatened to boil over at the reminder of the previous day. "I--," you cut yourself off, not sure how to phrase your situation to a stranger without making it seem as if you had completely lost your mind. "I lost my home yesterday," you settled on with a grimace. "My family kicked me out." 

Nathaniel made a sympathetic noise before he stood up. "May I?" He asked, gesturing towards your bench. 

You shrugged your shoulders in answer but moved over to leave him enough space to sit down beside you.  

"In my experience, family is a fickle thing," Nathaniel continued once he was at your side. "People come and go, but you have to be able to stand by yourself and forge your own path once it all falls apart." 

"I don't know if I can do that this time," you whispered, ashamed to admit that you were on the brink of losing whatever control over your emotions you had managed since waking up.  

Nathaniel turned so he could watch you. It was a bit unnerving, but you figured you had no one else for company. A smirk tugged at his lips as he studied you. "You're a fighter," he assured you.  

"Oh?" You wondered, returning his stare. "And how would you know that?" 

His smirk was still in place as he tapped his temple. "I'm psychic," he proclaimed, holding up his fingers and waving them before imitating a ghostly wail.  

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you and it felt so wrong.  

"There we go," Nathaniel murmured with a pleased smile. "Look, I know you don't know me, but how about a drink? Coffee?" He prompted, moving to stand and holding out a hand to you.  

You didn't want to wallow in your misery on the park bench all by yourself and you figured Nathaniel made a decent enough distraction. "You're paying," you told him, reluctantly grabbing his hand and letting him help you up. "Only because I don't have any money." 

Nathaniel laughed, the sound briefly jarring to you, and cocked his head to the side. "In that case, I'll buy you breakfast too." 

You found yourself in a diner booth sitting across from Nathaniel. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, but you settled for a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. You weren't all that hungry and you couldn't get your mind off Logan. You wondered what he was doing right at that moment and then you dashed the thought. He was probably happy with his wife and Laura and had forgotten all about you.  

"Hey," Nathaniel called, getting your attention. "Where did you go?" 

You shook your head, biting your lip to distract yourself.  

"Thinking about your family?" He prompted, shooting you a wary look. "I know I'm a stranger and it's none of my business, but do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can offer some perspective." 

You scowled down at your pancakes, pushing them halfheartedly around the plate with a fork. You glanced around the diner, spotting a blonde woman wearing a white suit watching you curiously from a booth not far from yours. You shook your head at Nathaniel, not wanting anyone to overhear you.  

"Let's get out of here," you told him, pushing yourself out of the booth. "I could use a walk to clear my head." 

"Alright," Nathaniel readily agreed, standing as well. While he placed a twenty on the table, you made for the door.  

There was that whisper again in the air that had you looking over your shoulder. Someone was calling your name, but you didn't see anyone you recognized. No one was even looking at you except for Nathaniel who was slowly approaching you.  

"You okay?" Nathaniel interrupted, stealing your attention away.  

"Yeah," you muttered, briefly nodding your head. "Just c'mon," you said, barely waiting for Nathaniel to follow you before you pushed through the door and walked outside.  

You didn't think you would be able to confide in a total stranger, but there was something strangely freeing about unloading all the burdens on your mind to someone who didn't know anything about you. You even managed to drop the mutant bomb on him and were surprised when Nathaniel only took it in stride, as if he had expected all along you weren’t quite normal. He mostly seemed focused on what you told him about your family and how you lost them all in one fell swoop.  

"Sounds like you're better off without them," Nathaniel mused. "Anyone who would let you go like that is an idiot." 

"Maybe," you begrudgingly agreed. You didn't think it was possible, but Nathaniel had managed to make you feel better. Maybe letting out all your worries had briefly unburdened you. Or maybe since you lost everyone, you had been desperate to hear someone tell you it wasn’t your fault.  

"They're all ungrateful idiots," Nathaniel continued. "You're special," he told you. "And you deserve more." 

His tone brooked no argument, but you were a little thrown off by how serious he seemed.  

"I don't know what I'm going to do now," you deflected, scowling down at your hands. "I don't have anyone or anywhere to go. And I've just spent the day with a stranger telling him my whole pathetic sob story." 

"I'm not a stranger anymore," Nathaniel offered with a grin. "You know my name and everything." 

"I know literally nothing else about you," you pointed out. You were starting to feel apprehensive about trusting someone you didn't even know. Your head was beginning to hurt and you could feel your hands trembling. You weren't sure why panic had hit you all at once, but you could feel your heart beating overtime in your chest and a cold sweat begin to break out along your skin. You were beginning to hyperventilate, confused and overwhelmed, when Nathaniel took you by the shoulders and forced you to look into his eyes.  

"Hey, it's all going to be okay. Just trust me, alright? Y/N, you with me?"  

You tried to focus on Nathaniel, but there was a ringing in your ears and you swore someone else was trying to get your attention. You shook your head, trying to keep yourself from falling right into a spiral. You forced yourself to take slow, deep breaths, realizing that Nathaniel was also taking them, trying to coach you through your anxiety attack.  

You closed your eyes once you finally felt like you could stand on your own two feet without freaking out. You took a moment to center yourself before allowing yourself to open your eyes again.  

"Thanks," you whispered, nodding at him when he shot you a skeptical look. "I'm fine. I'll be fine," you claimed, even though you knew it was a lie. You were tired of loving and losing. Your heart ached for Logan and you knew that you would never recover from losing him. But Nathaniel, odd as he was, had managed to help you feel like maybe you didn't have to spend the rest of your existence completely alone.  

"I know you will," Nathaniel confirmed with another one of his smiles. "Because you're coming home with me." 

You stared at Nathaniel, waiting for the punchline, but it never came. "I could be a serial killer," you warned him with a scoff. "And you're inviting me into your home?" 

Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his face. "I'm not scared of you." 

He sounded so sure of himself that you couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that escaped you. "You're completely insane, aren't you?" 

"So, is that a yes?" Nathaniel wondered, holding his hand out to you and waiting for you to take it. "Will you join me?" 

You stared down at his hand for a beat too long to be socially acceptable. It felt like you were about to make a deal with the devil, but Nathaniel had been nothing but kind. He had given you a shoulder to cry on and was now giving you a place to go so you wouldn’t have to spend another night on a park bench. 

You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you still found yourself reaching out to take his hand.  

"Okay," you reluctantly agreed. "I'll go with you." 

You thought it would be weird once you found yourself in Nathaniel's apartment, but it felt oddly familiar. He had a guest room that he had designated as yours and made sure you could take whatever you wanted from the fridge. You didn't know how to return his kindness, but you knew you would have to find a way.  

Nathaniel had gone out to get dinner while you waited on his couch, idly flipping through channels. You were starting to doze off, exhausted, when you heard someone calling for you.  

You squinted at the television, wondering if you were hearing things, when it happened again. You had stopped on a news report, catching sight of the woman from the diner. You assumed she was a news anchor, but the way she was looking at the camera gave you the eerie sensation that she was somehow actually watching you. When her gaze drifted over, as if looking at someone behind you, you rushed to turn off the television. 

You cautiously glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there. But you were alone.  

 “Y/N,” the voice called again. It was faint, like they were outside, but close enough for you to hear.  

“What the fuck is happening?” You growled, growing frustrated. “Where are you?” 

You stood, wondering if you should go looking for whoever was trying to reach you, when Nathaniel walked into the apartment. He held up the bag of takeout and nodded towards the kitchen table.  

"Ready to eat?" 

Time dragged on as days and weeks passed. You still thought of Logan practically every waking moment, but Nathaniel had done his best to distract you.  

You were grateful for him, because you didn't know how you would have lived without someone there to fill the void in your life.  

You weren't sure what day it was or even how long had passed since you last saw Logan, but you knew that you had started to heal.  

"Sometimes," Nathaniel told you once you voiced that thought to him. "You have to let something break so you can piece it back together to get something new. To get what you truly want. What is it that you want, Y/N?" Nathaniel studied you with the same unnerving intensity he always did and you hated to admit that you were finding it less weird each time it happened.  

Logan was the first thought that came to your mind. You wanted Logan and you wanted your home and you wanted your family. You wanted to show Laura how to cook and you wanted to follow Wade into crazy situations, knowing that he would have your back just like you had his back. You wanted to crawl into bed with Logan at the end of each day knowing that you were wanted and cherished.  

Nathaniel made a disappointed noise before he shook his head. "There's no going back," he told you "I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen." 

You didn't like the way he sounded so sure of himself. Nathaniel didn't know Logan and he didn't even really know you. You had spent weeks with him, but years of your life had been devoted to a Logan. Your Logan had been better, you knew it, so maybe you were the one who wasn't worthy.  

Nathaniel made a tsking noise before he reached out. He wrapped his hand lightly along the underside of your jaw, his thumb pressed to the other side of your neck over your pulse point. He considered you for a long moment, as if he was searching for something.  

"He left you," Nathaniel reminded you, as if it hadn't been eating you up inside since it happened. "You are special. You deserve to be cherished," he continued, and you started to worry about the potentially romantic direction he was going with his lecture. A brief smile flitted across his face, as if he could read your mind, before his expression slipped back towards something more serious. "You're lost and you're broken," he added, gently sweeping his thumb over your pulse point. "Let me put the pieces back together." 

You weren't even sure if you trusted Nathaniel, but you had spent so long hurting that you were tempted to say yes.  

You suddenly felt like someone had brushed their hand over the back of your head and you heard someone call your name. It was the same voice as before and you knew better than to look for someone you wouldn't find. But Nathaniel's eyes strayed just over your shoulder, as if he had heard it too. There was a brief flicker of irritation on his face before he gifted you with a sincere smile.  

"I've got you," he promised. "No one is ever going to get near you again." 

"Okay," you finally agreed, if only because you were curious about what he had in mind. You also couldn't deny that you were just so desperate to not fall back into that desolate pit of isolation you had begun to dig for yourself. Nathaniel saw you and he wanted you. There wasn't much else you felt like you could ask for now.  

And if Nathaniel's sharp smile sent a shiver through you for all the wrong reasons, then you were the only one who had to know about that.  

Nathaniel seemed insistent that in order to move on, you would have to make yourself stronger. To him, that seemed to mean training day and night, improving upon your power in new and terrifying ways.  

You spent hours, days, weeks, stretching the limits of your power. Your power had always been meant as a defense, to protect and contain, but now you wanted to wield it as a weapon.  

Your progress felt excruciatingly slow, but you had to admit that you were pleased with the results. It started simple enough with just a thought. You wanted your forcefields to hurt. The barriers you would have erected to protect yourself should also be used to hurt anyone who dared get too close.   

Nathaniel had rented out an abandoned location in a strip mall and set up targets for you to use. More often than not, he was watching you, as if he was waiting for something. Other times, he seemed content to leave you alone, trusting you would have something new to show him when he returned.  

You practiced on the targets, first forming forcefields around your fists and breaking anything that stood in your way. Nothing held up to them and you started growing bored of that tactic. You started to think that if you could form a forcefield, then it could be any shape you wanted. Spikes, swords, knives all began to adorn the edges of your forcefields, facing out and ready to maim anything that was in the way.  

Nathaniel seemed eager when you first formed a forcefield that was outlined with spikes and used it to repeatedly stab holes into the brick fence that lined the back of the property. You were sure he was never going to get his deposit back, but he didn't even seem to care. He only encouraged you to think bigger and do more.  

With time, you were even able to produce two forcefields at once. It was exhausting and drained all your energy, but you liked the idea of protecting yourself while also using a different forcefield to hurt an attacker. From there, it was only natural to think of taking a forcefield, forming it around an enemy, and turning the projected spikes inward, letting them impale your target without a way to escape.  

You felt stronger and invulnerable. You had never thought to test your power like this, and the feeling was nearly intoxicating. Logan and Laura and Wade were still on your mind, but now you knew that you didn’t need them. Like Nathaniel told you, you could stand on your own and forge your own path ahead.  

No one would hold you back now.  

The first time you felt the full force of your own power was when Nathaniel was taunting you into a reaction.  

"He doesn't care about you anymore. He's moved on with the true love of his life and you are nothing to him. You don't need him anymore. You can show him that you're better off without him." 

There were targets surrounding you, but you didn't care about them. All you could think about was Logan and the stupid lovelorn look on his face as he looked at his wife. He looked like he had been saved. Saved from you and whatever pathetic existence he was ready to settle for in her absence. You deserved better and you wanted to rip that stupid look right off his face. You wanted to make him and her regret it.  

You let out a scream of frustration, punching out with your forcefield at one of the targets, but it got carried away from you. All the targets snapped back, taken out at once from the blast. It carried farther out, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and shattering the front windows.  

You looked at Nathaniel, where he was splayed on the floor, staring up at you in awe.  

"You did it," he praised as he began to push himself to his feet. You crossed over towards him, holding out your hand to help get him up off the floor. “I knew you could do it.” 

"What was that?" You wondered, breathless and ecstatic. Your power had never quite felt like that before. You wanted to try it again, the rush of it addicting. If you could hone that and strengthen it, then you could use it on multiple enemies at once. You could become nearly unstoppable.   

"A repulsion field," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder. "With time, I expect you'll be able to direct it and control it. You’ll be able to take out a whole city if you want." 

"Shit," you breathed, still shocked that you had managed something like that. "I didn't think I could use my power in that way. It was...exciting," you decided with a grin at Nathaniel.  

"I told you that you're special," he reminded you. "I knew you had that in you all along." 

"Thank you," you found yourself saying. You considered the targets on the floor and wondered if there would be any more use in them.  

"I have extras," Nathaniel assured you. "Want to try again?" 

You felt a pleased little thrill shoot through you at the thought. "Fuck yes," you answered.  

A week passed since you found out about the extra perk your power allowed you. You felt more confident and assured of yourself. Gone was the self-doubt and in its place was a feeling that you could defeat anyone or anything.  

You were walking to the store with Nathaniel, thinking about what you might want to make for dinner. Nathaniel was being unusually quiet and leaving you alone to your thoughts. You wondered if something was wrong, but then you spotted her.  

It was you. The other you. She was alone. No Logan or Laura or Wade in her vicinity.  

You couldn't help the way you froze on the sidewalk or the fury that rose up swiftly enough you felt nearly sick with it.  

She was to blame for everything. She had stolen your life away from you and now she got to be happy while you spent the rest of your life wanting someone you would never have again.  

"Is that her?" Nathaniel asked, rounding back to standing at your side. "The one who stole your life from you?" 

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a lid on your anger.  

"Why don't you make her regret it?" 

The idea was so simple, but so damn tempting. You could just imagine the look on her face when she realized she was incredibly outmatched now. You could destroy her within seconds and she would never be able to stop you. 

You knew it wasn't something you should entertain. You had lived your whole life as a hero. There was a line you would have never dared to cross before but after everything that had happened, you were starting to realize that line was blurred beyond recognition. As far as you were concerned, she had stolen your life from you, and it was only right that she realized what a mistake that had been.  

"You're better than her now. Stronger," Nathaniel continued, leaning in closer to you. "She can't do half of what you can. Show her what you've learned." 

"I don't know," you tried to deflect. You wanted your revenge, but there was still a tiny voice in your head saying it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do. 

"Aren't you tired?" Nathaniel hissed, his hand coming up to clutch your shoulder in a near-painful grip. "Tired of being the doormat. The hero. The martyr. Don't let them get away with it. Don't let her walk away." 

You didn't even realize you had made up your mind until you were walking up to the other you. She was checking out a display of plants that had been left outside of the market for customers to choose, but she seemed to sense your approach, because she turned to consider you.  

You weren't sure what she saw when she looked at you, but her eyes went wide with fear, and she immediately pulled up a forcefield. You stalked forward, intent on your target. You didn't care if anyone was watching, because you felt like you were completely justified in your actions.  

You passed right through her forcefield and pushed her back. She fell to the ground, staring up at you in terror. You pulled your fist back, forming your own forcefield around it. You let spikes form along the outside facing towards her. All you had to do was bring it down onto her face. It would be a killing blow, and you would never have to think about her again. Logan would lose the love of his life, but maybe he would come back to you. Maybe you could return to him stronger, better, and without any more competition.  

For a moment, as you looked right into her face, it was like gazing into a mirror. The scar was gone, her hair was the same as yours, and you were wearing similar clothes. She looked just like you.  

You were convinced that she was you.  

And that made you pull back, horrified at what you had almost done.  

Her eyes were closed, ready for a blow that you weren't capable of dealing any longer.  

"I'm sorry," you whispered before stepping away, propelling yourself right out of her forcefield.  

"Y/N?" Nathaniel called, pulling your attention towards him. "What are you doing? She's right there. Kill her," he demanded, his lips pulling back in a sneer.  

You shook your head, feeling something indescribable but ultimately terrified swell within you. What had you become? What had Nathaniel done to you? You had let him so far into your head that you had almost done something unspeakable.  

You made yourself go invisible before you took off running. You didn't know where you were going or where you would even hide, but you knew that you needed to get away from Nathaniel. He had pushed you to do more, be more, and you had never once stopped to think about which road you were heading down and whether it would lead you right to the point of no return.  

You could hear Nathaniel yelling for you to stop and come back, but you didn't listen. You wanted to get away from him and just think. It felt like you had let him take up residence in your head and now you wanted to figure out how the hell to evict him.  

You ran until you felt like you were going to collapse. You finally stopped outside of a library. You rushed inside, catching a glimpse of the news anchor flipping through a book as you went right for the back corner.  Two bookshelves met there and you sank right to the floor in front of them. You dropped your head into your hands and forced yourself to take deep breaths.  

"Y/N," you heard someone call. It wasn't Nathaniel and it wasn't anyone else you immediately recognized. But it was familiar. They had been trying to get your attention all along.  

"What," you snapped, already feeling like you were on the verge of crumbling. Nathaniel had been right that you were broken, but who was going to put the pieces back together this time? It felt like Nathaniel had managed to piece them back together all wrong and you didn't even feel like yourself anymore.  

"Y/N," the voice called again.  

You closed your eyes and focused on the voice. You reached out for it, desperate for any sort of lifeline. It was a spark right at the back of your mind. You rushed to meet it, eager to figure out who had been trying to talk to you.  

"My name is Charles Xavier."  

You startled, nearly letting the tenuous connection between you and Charles drop, but finally throwing everything you had towards it.  

"This world is a lie," Charles continued once he realized you could hear him. "Do not let him break you. They're coming to find you." 

"Who?" You couldn't help but ask, hope and fear clashing inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.  

"A rather odd group of saviors," Charles answered, a hint of amusement clear in his words. "But stay strong and do what you can to break free of his hold. He has a way to keep me out, so once he finds you, I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you. Just hold on until they get there." 

You didn't know how you were going to get yourself out. You were starting to think it was hopeless, because you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in the first place. The more you thought about it, though, the more obvious it became that something had been wrong since the morning you woke up and Logan’s wife was sitting in your kitchen. The fact that she had come back from the dead, Logan’s quick dismissal of you, Laura and Wade both turning their backs on you. Nathaniel’s convenient timing and the way he watched you as if you were nothing more than an experiment for him. A pet mutant he could poke and prod and play with while you were none the wiser.   

“Who’s coming to find me?” You didn’t dare to assume that you were worth the rescue, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know. You had to hold onto the one little spark of hope you could feel burning defiantly inside you.  

For one terrifying moment, your mind was still, and you felt crushingly alone. Just when you thought you had been abandoned, Charles left you with one final word.  

"Logan." 

Author's Note: There will be a fourth chapter! Did I have you going for a while there? I felt so evil writing this. I truly did. If you liked this, please let me know. Not to sound needy, but comments/reblogs/etc. literally fuel me to write more and inspire me so much to keep coming up with fun stuff. Thank you to everyone who has shown this series any support! Also, if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

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@astudyoftimeywimeystuff

[imagopirateversion]

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales; Why It Shouldn’t Exist

Or how I invested time and energy into an analysis of a relatively dead franchise instead of doing it for my actual media analysis university course.

An essay by: a bitter and obsessed PotC fan since they were 7, with a lot of free time.

Lads, this is going to be long. You have been warned.

The Beginning

At the very beginning of the movie, we see a young Henry Turner looking for his dad.

Now, we're not talking about characterization problems or how likely it is that a ten-year-old child would risk his life to look for a man he technically only saw once; we're talking about plot problems, actual logical fallacies. My questions are:

How? The Flying Dutchman is a legendary ship, impossible to be found unless She wants to be found. The only reason we see Her in Dead Man's Chest is because Davy Jones himself is looking for Jack to collect his debt, and in that occasion the Dutchman's captain wasn't even doing what he was supposed to do, so he was most definitely in the living world. Will otherwise, he's doing the job Calypso gave him, so he's constantly in between. Is the movie trying to convince me that a kid was able to do something no one in the history of piracy was ever able to do? And even if he did, why hasn't anyone explained me how? He simply looks at a map and throws himself on the bottom of the ocean. How did he know The Dutchman was there? How did he know it would've come to surface?

Where is his mom? We got to know Elizabeth in the first three movies; we know she's a smart woman and we can assume she's an attentive mother. She didn't notice her son preparing himself for a trip in the middle of the ocean to go look for his dad? Was she distracted? Was she outsmarted by a 10ish-year-old? Or is she just not contemplated in this scenario?

Why does Will look like that? Will is doing his job, so... why does he look like he's slowly corrupting? That kind of corruption is the punishment Calypso reserves to The Dutchman's crew when the captain fails her, which isn't the case. Did they forget about it? Was the idea of putting algae on Orlando Bloom's face just impossible to resist to?

Alright, this isn't actually from this movie but it's bothering me, so I have to write it; also, it would make this whole movie unnecessary, so it's somehow related to it. Why (and I can't stress this enough) can't Elizabeth be on the Dutchman? Why can't they do the job together? Is it because she's not a pirate? I'm pretty sure se actually is. Is it because she's a woman? Last time I checked she was the KING. She wants to stay with Will forever, Will wants to stay with her forever, they can literally live forever on the same ship. Why aren't they?

Whatever the Hell Happened to Jack Sparrow

Imagine creating a character that is so iconic whenever you ask a person who was a kid in the early 2000 to imagine a pirate, they imagine said character.

Now imagine fourteen years pass and you decide to ruin that character by making him the most hideous, annoying, idiotic person in the whole saga, and we're talking about a saga that has Philip the Missionary in it. Why? Jack Sparrow is THE anti-hero. Never on the right side, but never on the wrong one. You can tell he's doing something morally questionable, but you still find yourself rooting for him. He's stupid enough to make you laugh, but he's secretly clever enough to always get away with it. Now he's just... drunk. And that's not even an excuse for this horrendous new characterization, because he was always drunk. The guy FORGOT HE WAS ROBBING A BANK, the same guy just one movie earlier was able to escape from the King of England's palace and steal a lady's earring (by pretending to be a literal slut) in the process. He just switched from the iconic drunk bi bestie everyone loves to my cringe uncle that drinks too much at Christmas parties and makes everyone uncomfortable. Please, if the risk is ruining an entire generation's beloved character, either don't make the movie or find a better explanation than "Bad luck dogs you day and night".

The Pearl in The Bottle

So... what you're telling me is that Jack Sparrow, the guy who was able to defeat Hector Barbossa, Davy Jones and Blackbeard thanks to his slyness, and who loves his Black Pearl more than anything else in the world, had said ship in a bottle in his pockets for FIVE YEARS... and he never thought about breaking the bottle to free Her. That's what you're telling me. This is the pivotal point upon which the entire Jack's plot hinges. I... I don't even know what to say. Was this supposed to be funny?

What an Incredibly Lucky Coincidence

A guy needs a treasure to save his father. To find it, he needs the help of a notorious and legendary pirate. He looks for him everywhere, sailing on dozens of ships just so he has the remote chance to stumble across the pirate. The last ship he's been on has sinked, he's the only survivor. He's been found in the middle of the ocean and someone brought him to the nearest city. Which city? I mean, the one that has both the pirate he was looking for and a lady who's the only person in the whole planet who's able to find the treasure he was looking for! And, oh my... he finds the both of them! In that same city! Without even LOOKING FOR THEM! A hell of a coincidence, if you ask me. Also known as lazy writing.

What's Wrong With the Guards?

Now, I know Pirates of the Caribbean isn't exactly known for its accurate historical reconstructions, but why are the guards in this movie acting like they're some sort of hellhounds ready to kill anyone in sight? Even pirates and traitors as Jack and Henry were supposed to stand trial before being sentenced to death. It would've probably been an unjust and barbaric trial, but there should've been one. We literally saw it, in the previous movie. Why's Jack been sentenced to death for simply existing here? He gave pirate vibes and they decided that was enough?

Paul McCartney

This is not an actual point of the analysis, I just wanted to remind people that Paul McCartney is in this movie and that's the only valid reason to watch it.

Salazar

I am confused. Once again, I have questions.

El Matador Del Mar was so good at his job he had almost defeated piracy. "The last ones joined together to try and defeat me". The last what? Pirates? There were no pirates left? This happened when Jack was young, so a lot of time before the first movie, right? Where were, I don't know... Blackbeard? Davy Jones? Barbossa? All the other Pirate Lords? I might be wrong, but I guess Salazar didn't kill them, did he? Why weren't they there during that "last battle" in which "the last ones joined together"?

The Devil's Triangle. I just don't understand what's the logic behind it. So, this is a cursed place. Whoever enters there, can't get out. One would think it means that if you get there, you die; and Salazar does die, but he somehow also becomes a ghost whose only purpose is to find Jack Sparrow and have his revenge. So, do people become ghosts when they get in The Devil's Triangle? We have to assume people have gotten stuck in there before; otherwise, there wouldn't be legends around the place. So why isn't it like full of spirits ready to haunt people? Why are Salazar and his crew the only ones?

Poseidon or Calypso?

What's the Trident of Poseidon? Does Poseidon exist? Isn't Calypso the Goddess of the sea? Breaking the Trident, you break all the curses of the sea, so the Trident must be more powerful than Calypso, which leads to a question. Where is she? She IS the sea, right? So she must have known someone was about to find the Trident and brake all curses, including her one. She just decided it was okay? It really feels like someone decided to suddenly change the world's mythology without giving explanations.

The Compass

This is possibly the most blatant plot hole in the whole saga. Probably the most blatant plot hole I've ever witnessed, and man, I watched all the Harry Potter movies. In Dead Man's Chest, Jack meets Tia Dalma in her "shop" and he tells her he's looking for the Davy Jones' key. She asks him "The compass you bartered from me, it cannot lead you to this?", making another pivotal point of Dead Men Tell No Tales factually senseless.

That man couldn't have given his compass to Jack, because that wasn't his compass.

So either Salazar is lying while telling his tale or they forgot about that line in the second movie. Anyway, let's pretend that line doesn't exist; even if that captain gave Jack his compass in that exact moment, why would it be the key to free Salazar, exactly? How is the compass in any way related to The Devil's Triangle or to Salazar? In the movie, they try to explain it with a sentence: “if you betray it, your greatest fear comes true”. So, is Salazar Jack's greatest fear? I really doesn't seem right, Jack almost didn't remember Salazar when Henry mentioned him. To Jack, he's only a guy he outsmarted decades earlier. Also, Jack technically already gave the compass away, twice: to Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest, to make her find the chest, and to Beckett in At World's End, when they're negotiating.

That's... That's Just Body Shaming, Mate

Let's talk about her. So, the woman's ugly. It can happen that a woman is ugly. Was it necessary to build an entire scene around some blatant body shaming? This scene wants to mimic the similar scene in Dead Man's Chest: Jack's on an island, running from the main villain, and he's forced to do things he doesn't want to do until someone saves him, then it was Will, now it's Hector.

Except in Dead Man's Chest it was LITERAL CANNIBALISM he was facing, and yet he looked LESS TERRIFIED and DISGUSTED. What's exactly the message here? Lads, is marrying an ugly woman worse than cannibalism? I don't know... that was just bad.

Justice for Hector Barbossa

If you know me (you probably don't, but if you do) then you know about my obsession with Hector Barbossa. I truly believe he's the best written character in the saga, and he's in my top five of the characters I love the most in all media. I watched The Curse of the Black Pearl when I was seven and I am autistic, so I had all the time to develop a literal relationship with these characters in my head. As much as Geoffrey Rush's interpretation was impeccable, as always, it really hurt to watch Hector in this movie. He just doesn't sound like him. First of all, why isn't he on the Queen Anne's Revenge? Why's he letting someone else sail around on his ships? He would've never. Why's he just sitting on a throne and shooting musicians instead of, I don't know... being a pirate? Being a pirate is the only thing that matters to him. He says it at the end of On Stranger Tides, and he even says it in this movie, to the witch. "I'm a pirate. Always will be".

So, why isn't he pirating? What happened to him? And what about the pact with the witch? He made her curse all his enemies; that's honestly the most out-of-character thing he could've done.

Seriously, watch this movie, and then The Curse of the Black Pearl and tell me he sounds like he's the same character. Then there’s his death... was it necessary? And I don't mean if it was necessary to the plot (it wasn't), but the way he died, did it make sense? He takes the sword and sacrifices himself to kill Salazar, but WHY? Salazar was back a mortal. They could've brought him to surface and then shoot him. What was the point of his death, Disney? I will never forgive you.

I would've preferred if they never showed him again. He's alive and living his best life in Tortuga, if you ask me.

How does Carina Smyth exist?

Let's do the maths. Carina Smyth has approximately the same age as Henry Turner, who was born around nine moths after the end of At World's End. At the end of that movie, Barbossa once again stole the Black Pearl (he's iconic we stan a legend), so we have to assume it is during that time (between the At World's End and On Stranger Tides) that he conceives Carina. He stays with this woman during the whole pregnancy, bacause he says he was there when she died. So nine months, at least, right? Except; Jack makes it clear that he and Barbossa met Carina's mom, Margaret, together.

When, exactly, did this happen? It can't be between On Stranger Tides and Dead Men Tell No Tales, because Hector himself says only five years passed between the two, and Carina doesn't look like a five-year-old;

it can't be between At World's End and On Stranger Tides, because we know Jack and Barbossa weren't together, and Hector was too busy losing a leg and planning his revenge by working for the King of England; it can't be during At World's End, because Barbossa was too busy rescuing Jack and then slaying (literally and metaphorically) Beckett's men to save piracy; it can't be during Dead Man's Chest, because he was dead; it can't be during The Curse of the Black Pearl, nor during the ten years before it, because he was... he was a skeleton, I hardly believe he could reproduce, despite what’s written in some fanficions; it can't be before, of course, because Carina would be too old. The only chance, but it's a stretch, is that Hector and Jack met this Margaret Smyth years and years before, and that at a certain point (while he was still busy slaying, losing a leg or planning his revenge), for some reason he decided to come back to her and accidentally had a daughter. That would mean that Jack remembered Margaret Smyth's name DECADES after he met her.

The Post-Credit Scene: What?

WHY'S DAVY JONES BACK? The Trident technically broke all the curses of the sea. He is THE cursed man of the sea. AND HE'S DEAD. The only answer I was able to give me, is that the moment the Trident broke the curses, the curse that said if you stab his heart he dies was also broken, so he technically didn't die, but it makes even less sense, because if the curses just aren't real anymore, then a man shouldn't be able to... carve out his heart and put it in a chest, right? (Which by the way, makes Will Turner being alive senseless as well). Even if so, Davy should've come back as a human.

My conclusion is that this movie should not exist, and we, as a community, should pretend it was never made. Hector is alive. Bye.

Imago

[brynn-lear]

Note: these are all yandere characters I had back in 2022. I'm describing them very vaguely. I can't bring myself to spoil even minute details I find intruiging even though it's unlikely I'll make this webtoon-isekai-otome game concept come to life. Shoutout to mochi and harmony. I would've forgotten these men exist if it weren't for them lol

Yan!Butler: People kept mistaking your deceased brother's butler as a nobleman, especially with how you both appear to be best friends rather than master-servant. His butler is one of your greatest allies and critic; not once has he missed his chance to tease you in such “polite” yet convoluted ways. But you at least know his sharp tongue comes from a place of affection, and not from disdain as he would with other nobility. Your older brother took him under the family's care when his small village was brutally extinguished by unknown assailants. That butler thinks all other nobles deserve gruesome ends. There's not a single day where he does not feel paranoid. So when you feel as though the pavement you passed by in your private gardens had splotches of red… you turn a blind eye. You trust your brother and his allies. As long as you ignore that what he does is far beyond ensuring your brother's safety, you can go on sleeping peacefully at night.

Yan!Eccentric Immortal: You honestly thought it was so weird for a wandering pink-haired tourist to wear red shades and a short-sleeved shirt with tons of hibiscus printed on it, but whatever floats his boat. At least, that's what you thought at first before you struck a conversation with him out of pure boredom. No matter how… “modern” he looks, he was dejected enough at the time to confess that he came to see how his hometown looks— only to discover it is practically unrecognizable. He kept pointing to business shops, claiming some used to be parks, a small forest, his favorite bookstore, and a place his old buddy used to have a successful shoe factory on. And then it hit you. This man you're with… is one of your ancestor's mayor turned revolutionary best friend who struck a contract with the devil. There's one small problem... You're involved in said contract.

("Oh, so he's immortal, huh… no wonder he was burying his face in his mushroom hat when we were walking around in the museum. On one hand, impressive that he was the first man ever photographed, but he's also the first photobomber ever. He was just cleaning his shoes and got in the way…")

[More descriptions utc]

Yan!Crown Prince: He is your childhood friend crown prince, who was once a quiet and lonesome kid. You belonged to the very few children who properly befriended him, but in each playtime, he always clung to you tightly. The adult nobles in your life had always made it a point to remind you to be wary of his lineage. “The royal bloodline’s first love is their last— and such obsession reigns supreme.” There is also a legend of how the first king confessed to his tactician after the war. However, he dismembered & hid her limbs when he faced rejection. The royal family has been plagued with unrequited love and unhappy marriages since then, yet you don’t believe him capable of perverse and violent thoughts. He harbors a hopeless puppy-like “one-sided” affection on another childhood friend of yours (THE main female lead) but he takes it “like a champ”, you're sure of it!!! Plus, the prince has grown so mature and independent, always asking for your counsel on politics more than personal affairs. You haven't met a man who enjoyed his duties as much as he does. If anything, he has distanced himself from you… Right?

Yan!Doctor: As a child from a loving noble home, you had remained firm in your stance on committing acts of kindness. When an injured kid your age was starving outside your estate, you did not hesitate to order your brother's butler to fetch food and drinks. Since he was nameless and you weren't one to gloss over a book of baby names— you gave him one that sounds like a dog’s. Years later, you've fallen gravely ill. No physician across the continent could help you despite your philanthropist reputation. But there was one who had done the impossible. The doctor cured you in under a month, and when you tried to cover his services, he said everything was paid with “three glasses of milk and a box of biscuits.” Honestly, you should've remembered who he was sooner, considering how strange his name was. Despite such a grand revelation that he apparently owes you his life, there's unbridled hunger beyond his “kind” eyes. Something lonely and unhinged.

Yan!Ex-Hitman/Politician: There was a boy you've always seen each time you went to church. You see him every week that you both watched each other grow up. Apparently he came from a noble bloodline just like you, but despite being the eldest, his parents greatly favored his younger sibling. Deciding he had no talent to best him, the boy went to the monastery to practice the word of God instead. You always thought he was an ambitious and good-hearted person— especially since it's not exactly common for someone in their late twenties to aspire for the position of prime minister and appear so incredibly wholesome. On your quest to find someone to help you solve the mystery behind your older brother's death— you found out that the kind mint-eyed man who often carved wooden toys and sewed plushies for the orphans was the notorious hitman who killed plenty of corrupt nobles in his prime. Could he be behind your brother's death…?

[starillusion13]

ARRIBA (TEASER)

“Obsession is a dirty aspect to look at, but the night is dirtier, my love. Either we kill you or we kill the night. What you say?”

Pairing: Criminal! Ateez ot8 x f! Reader

W.C: 2.3k (Main plot: ???)

Genre: Smut, Strangers to Lovers(?), Thriller , Yandere

Warnings: sweet threats(lol), meeting strangers, agreeing/ doing something without your consent, inappropriate touch (a little), mention of gun(not for shooting), pervert looks of Ateez. There’s not really any warning for here other than these all. (Rest all the warnings to be announced in the main plot.)

Network: @k-vanity

"Who?"

"I don't know." The young girl groaned and held her forehead, elbow resting against the wooden table where different liquor bottles and designed glasses were placed. "Honestly, I haven't seen them before and I don't think they belong here or from anywhere near, where are they actually from?"

You asked again, sitting in the stool opposite to her, "and if so, then why are you so concerned about them? They might be attending our night party like other men from around."

"Noooo." She whined and sat straight, giving her full attention to you. She eyed your white and brown combination dress with the knife placed in the leathered strap holder of your waist. "They asked Mr. Byun for an arrangement." looking into your eyes directly, the words fell from her lips.

You knitted your brows together and leaned forward, "and what for?"

"They want to have a party here." She scoffed and raised a brow before mimicking your posture, leaning forward and whispered, "and there would be only them. No one else is allowed."

"Why are you whispering this?" You asked her but in a whisper. "Also, how can it be a party if they are the only ones attending it?"

"Right? No. That's not the case. They want someone to accompany them through the night. A well known and trusted person of Mr. Byun and he even agreed to it."

A frown appeared on your face, "who is accompanying them?"

"You."

"No way." You stood up and glared at her, "don't tell me you supported him in this."

She slowly nodded. She remembered all the words exchanged between the men and the owner of the grand tavern of the kingdom, Mr. Byun. She was there from the beginning till the end of the goodbyes shared. Not really a proper goodbye. She remembered how a man with sharp eyes placed a box on the table and slid across from him towards the old man, before smirking at him.

When she wanted to protest against it, another man, might be the oldest one among them because of the way others were addressing him, he glared and stared at her as if challenging her to dare to speak.

She gulped remembering the scene. The box had some gold coins and jewels and the old man happily accepted the gift.

She flinched when you tapped her shoulder, "where is he? I need to talk to him."

She shrugged and stood up, "I don't know. Might be planning for tomorrow night. Soon, he will call out for you."

"I'm going out to search for him. I'm not accompanying some men whom I have never seen. If it was to serve drinks like any other night in the presence of others then I would have no problem. But alone, that's a different story."

You turned around towards the door and when you were about to step forward, she grabbed your arm and made you face her, "they offered him a huge amount of money in advance and also they promised to pay him more."

"So?" you eyed her grip on you, it was like a warning but also a pleading to accept the situation you were currently into.

"He won't be backing off. You know Mr. Byun and his greediness for money. Do you think he will change his mind?" she loosened the grip, when your hand fell by your side dramatically.

Why suddenly the situation is like this? Just a few minutes back, you were okay with everything then how the situation turned into against you and you are left with nothing just to accept your coming fate. It's not like you can't run away from this, but if you do then the consequences won't be good. Serving the guests with drinks and some occasional dance is what helps you to earn for your living and even if you run away from here, where will you go? Nowhere. You haven't been to any other place, other than the outskirts of this village.

You stared at her for a while and when she was about to speak something, you raised your hand, stopping her midway, "tell him I will be here tomorrow evening. Before...before the men could arrive at the tavern."

"...okay." her eyes followed your figure leaving the grand fancy wooden door of the inn. She sighed and slumped back into the stool beside, rubbing her forehead and mumbled, "I don't know if it's going to be good or bad." suddenly, she smirked, "but I hope she will get one of them for herself. She doesn't have to be single anymore and they are so breathtaking...oh my god."

>>>><<<<

"Mr. Byun?"

Hearing your voice, he turned around with a smiling face and with quick steps, he strolled across the room to hold your hand and drag you inside. The more you explored your surroundings, the more you realized the men inside the room were all unfamiliar. You haven't seen those four faces ever and the way you were staring at them, it seemed sure that you were......attracted?.......curious? But they are literally attractive and breathtaking. Whatever. You averted your gaze back on the old man holding your wrist.

You could feel the four sets of eyes boring a hole in your figure but you didn't pay attention to them. Or rather, you didn't have the courage to do that. You were feeling so shy and exposed in the room, even when you were all covered and beautifully dressed up because you were planning to go to the market wit Miara and before that, you decided to meet the owner if he did need anything.

"Meet them, y/n. They are our new guests." he hummed and nodded towards them. You were questionably looking at him. Guests? And why do you have to meet them?

Hearing your name for the first time, they tasted the word again and on their lips. rolling their tongue lovingly to see how sweet it will feel and sound like to call you with the name. the name really suits you and they have to tell you to make you aware of it.

You casted a subtle glance towards them, before one of them could hold your gaze with him, you turned around quickly but still you noticed one of them smirked at your activity and the one near you whispered, "sweet." and you are sure, it was meant to be heard because the way someone behind you chuckled and the man in front of you joined in their play. "Isn't she sweet? She is the best worker of our inn and tavern. I know she will take good care of you all."

"Huh?" you were so confused with the way he was talking about you to those men in the room, "take care of them? Who are they? And I don't-"

The old man laughed cutting you mid sentence, "of they are the-"

"Wait." The tallest one of them stood straight from where he was leaning against a shelf. He was all in a brown and black pants with a brown long coat with several layers of clothing inside it.

He chuckled seeing your little scared expression which you were trying your best to hide from them with your strong facade, he noticed how your eyes were nervously looking around the room to avoid his gaze. The way you pulled your lip between your teeth and bit down on it, a groan escaped his throat and the dirty smirk grew on his face.

He stood tall in front of you. He looked taller when he was so close to you, you tilted your neck back slightly just to look at his face. "Well, I think I want to introduce myself to her." he looked at the man who was still holding your hand and noticed his grip, poking his tongue to the inner cheek, he said with no emotion, "I would like to have some space. No need for you, old man...ah wait what's again..."

another male, who was manspreading on the leathered and cushioned sofa spoke up, "Mr. Byun." and chuckled after giving away the old man's name.

"Yes, Mr. Byun. you can leave now. We can introduce ourselves to her." hearing the order from the man in front of you, he wasted no time to leave your hand and leave the room. Wow. he promised to give you shelter and keep you safe from the outside world, just to leave you to die in this dangerous inside world.

"Hello, pretty." he bent a little forward, his eyes scanning your face, a little mole on your chin. He touched it with his thumb and smiled. "You are really pretty when close to me."

Your mind was screaming to push him and step back. And you did listen to your mind, but to only one thing: to step back. He quickly grabbed your hand and again chuckled, "why are you running away, princess? We mean no harm." his other hand poked under your chin to make you look up. Wait! That feels like metal. Yes it is. A Gun. "or we mean harm." he pushed your chin up a little more and whispered, "but in a good way. By the way, I am Yunho."

you were staring at the ceiling in absolute fear.

"Yah...don't scare her." Someone separated you from the tall man who was smirking while standing a few steps back. The other male patted your cheeks and smiled, "I'm pretty sure if we introduce ourselves like that. She won't accompany us tomorrow."

You whispered, "tomorrow?"

"Yes. haven't you been informed about the party?" he asked and tilted his head, his eyes traveling down your whole figure. The thoughts running inside his head were more impure than his already dirty, flirtatious gaze on you. But his bright smile. Oh, if only Miara was here then she would have started talking with him this instance.

He was in a black tight pant and a loose black shirt hanging in his body with a black thin cotton belt around his neck. You have seen this style on some younger men in this area, "It costs a lot to look at me this long, sweet one."

You gulped and clutched your dress by your side, "I know about the party but..." so these are the men? That is why Miara was excited to see them again. "Well, this sexy and attractive face has a name, that's Wooyoung." he winked in the end.

The one manspreading on the sofa smirked and poured a drink into a single glass, only one-forth of it and took it in hold. He was in a pretty similar outfit like Yunho but his coat was light in color and shorter in length. The other glass in his other grip was half filled.

When he walked towards you, Wooyoung stepped aside for other one to come exactly in front of you. Well, the two who have already introduced themselves to you stood close enough to you to observe your small reactions to every little detailed movement of theirs. They were enjoying the control they had over you. They were satisfied to see how they were making you feel small in front of them.

The glass with little quantity of liquid was extended towards you, "Here a drink for you, my love. And, the name is Seonghwa." you grabbed it and eyed the liquid with confusion. "Not the drink. That's my name." you nodded absent-mindedly and he smiled sweetly at you, before brushing his fingers over your cheek, "i think I will enjoy the night a lot."

"Hm. me too." Wooyoung nodded and folded his hand.

Seonghwa made a clunk sound with your glasses and sipped the drink of his own. The last male, who whispered 'sweet' when Mr. Byun was there, stepped towards four of you, "drink it." there was an authority in his tone. His furry jacket with the fancy hat and leather pants, he seemed like to be extra fancy than others. As if his looks and how people would look up to him matters a lot.

"I...I don't drink." you mumbled.

"That's a good girl." the way the words sounded so attractive from his mouth and you felt like you were going to comply with every order dripping from his mouth but you scolded yourself. You are no one's property and without any reason, it's so wrong for someone to order you around except mr. Byun. "But a single sip won't matter."

You eyed the drink and glanced at him.

This time, Yunho spoke up and it had a demanding undertone, "drink it, princess. We usually don't repeat a word but for you...fine. We can be a bit dirty." He laughed afterwards.

After a mental battle of fighting yourself, you finally brought the glass to your lips. Their intense gazes on you and the way the fourth male stood beside you and placed his hand on your lower back to urge you to take the sip and Wooyoung patting your cheek slightly, you closed your eyes and gulped a sip, coughing a little when it directly went down your throat and you removed the glass from your lips. "This tastes so weird."

they laughed hearing your complain.

"I know. I know. Take it slow. But gradually, you will feel fine." when you kept staring at him without a word, he laughed, "I know what you want to ask. But that's for tomorrow. You have to impress me to know my name." he leaned towards your neck, inhaling your scent with his sharp nose like a pervert, "or it's too bad."

What exactly is bad?

Who are they? And why are they acting like this?

Seonghwa again clicked his glass with yours, "Arriba!"

COMING SOON...

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Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. also, you can notice I haven't described the members in details because it will be mentioned during the main night event when others will also appear.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @vtyb23 @haechansbbg @dassmyname

[open!]

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter ten of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: References to sex, Kind of depressing, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, this one is really sad y'all, like REALLY sad, I'm serious this one is really sad.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

1980

“Ben, stop.” You shout.

“Move damn it!” Ben’s eyes blaze a dark green sending a tremor down your spine, but you don’t budge.

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He snarls louder.

You stand defiantly in front of him, where he towers over you, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tensed. His broad shoulders block the fluorescent lights that hang overhead and illuminate the gym, dramatizing his imposing figure.

“I’m not going to. So you’re either going to have to move me yourself or you can go cool off.” Your retort your voice icy.

The heat from Ben’s anger vibrated through the air between you, but you weren’t going to move. Not when he was being ridiculous.

Noir was angry, angry that Ben took a movie role that he wanted. In hindsight you also thought it was ridiculous that Ben needed to star in all the movies. He was already America’s First Superhero and the Golden Boy and America’s Sweetheart, but it wasn't enough for him for some reason. You often thought his obsession with fame had something to do with his dad. Ben had a lot of problems when it came to his father, all of which made Ben compensate other ways, such as, feeling the need to be in charge, feeling the need to be loved and accepted by others he didn’t know, being unable to express his emotions, and the current problem which was feeling the need to claim the dominant role as most popular superhero.

Aka when he turned into Captain Toxic Masculinity.

Honestly, you were exhausted. All of this was exhausting. Ben was exhausting.  As someone who’d loved him this long you couldn’t help but see the shift from the boy you used to know into something unrecognizable. Occasionally you could see Ben, the old Ben, your Ben, who laughed with you, but those moments were few and certainly didn’t happen in public.

You shoulders tense with the force of your own anger and frustration, standing tall between Ben and Noir who lays on the ground behind you. Noir hadn't made an effort to get up, still stunned from the blows he took from Ben. The first few punches you hadn’t stopped, but it was when Ben felt the need to continue despite Noir’s pleas to stop that you had to step in.

You didn’t know where that came from, Ben’s need to beat people who were conceding. When he was younger you'd seen Ben get in a fight before, but those few times he hadn't continued to beat the other person when they gave up. The smell of whiskey and reefer floats off his clothes and you wonder how much he’s had to drink. Ben had two moods when he was drunk angry or clingy, and right now the anger was winning. You could hear the mad pump of his blood through his body and you wonder what else he might have taken today.

Because whiskey and reefer isn't enough? If he wasn't so damn indestructible he'd probably be dead from overdose.

Ben’s lip is curled back in a sneer, eyes flashing from where Noir lays on the ground then back to you. You know that he's ten seconds away from ripping Noir in half, and that's why you don't move. Noir didn't deserve that.

The way Ben's eyes burn through the space between you is hauntingly familiar as the memory of the night you hid Ben from his father settled over your mind. You fight the shudder at the comparison.

Ben wasn’t anything like his father. The thought is immediate, but then the memory of the past forty years begins to settle over your mind. Or maybe he was.

“Fucking pussy. Having a woman stand up for you.” Ben snaps at Noir.

Ben leans around you to spit at him, then raises his gaze back to you one more time before he stomps off, slamming the door of the gym so hard that it breaks the glass.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Everyone on Payback was watching you like you were crazy and you partly were. Getting in between Ben and someone else was beyond stupid. It wasn’t the first time, but you knew that you were the only person that could do it. If Countess or Gunpowder had stepped in Ben would not have relented. It had to be you. It always had to be you.

And you hated the weight of that burden on your shoulders.

You turn towards Noir, holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighs taking it . “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s just being… well. Him.” You mutter.

You hated that this was the new harsh reality, the new Ben that was born when he took the serum and became America’s First Superhero.

“It was incredibly stupid.” Countess sniffs from where she stands with the TNT Twins. Gunpowder is leaning back against the outer ring with Mindstorm who stares unblinkingly at you.

“Well, guess I took a page out of your book then.” You say, narrowing your eyes at her.

You couldn’t stand her. Ever since she joined Payback all she’d done was try to catch Ben’s eye and get between the two of you, but he never gave her the time of day. She had quickly won the favor of everyone else on Payback, which only made you even more angry because it always seemed like you were the odd one out wherever you went.

Countess only sneers back in response, flipping her red hair over her shoulders. Despite Ben's exit the tension in the room is almost choking. Your so-called team was watching you with unreadable expressions and you suddenly got the impression that you were trespassing or interrupting. It had happened before, when you came to a training session early and you walked in on the rest of the team, sans Ben, talking in hushed tones and they immediately broke apart when you appeared.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fact you stood between Ben and Noir, the rest of the team still didn’t like having you there. Probably because they associated you with Ben. It made you uneasy.

Because despite Stan’s efforts to keep you all together Ben's continuous outbursts drove you all further and further apart. And you worried what would happen the day when the shoe finally dropped.

One look at the clock on your wall showed that it was almost one in the morning, but you weren't tired. All you could think about is what almost happened to Noir. It wasn't that you particularly liked anyone on Payback other than Ben, honestly the whole superhero thing was getting tedious and you had considered more than once getting out.

But you couldn't. Sometimes you felt responsible for Ben, like you were the only thing keeping him on the straight and narrow. Of course every single damn day that road was getting narrower and narrower and now it was more like a balance beam than a two way street.

Ben's new outlook on life that revolved around drugs, women, more drugs, and more women didn't make it easier. 

You frown at your sketchpad remembering when Ben founded Herogasm. You'd gone the first time, regretted walking through the door, stayed ten minutes, and then left.

Sex without feelings never appealed to you, but that wasn't why you left, it was watching Ben with other women that hurt you. You could barely get through it when he mentioned something in passing, but watching him there with them made you uncontrollably angry and not to mention frustrated. You didn't understand him, couldn't understand why Ben was different around you. Didn't know why whenever you were alone he would give you hope, just to take it all away again.

How could so much change? How could everything go to shit so quickly?

You think of all the years that followed the night that Ben asked you to come with him, how you thought that Ben was telling you that he loved you in his own way. But he didn’t. You were realizing that now, as painful as it was to admit to yourself, Ben only saw you as a friend, would only ever see you as a friend.

When you decided to come with him you thought that the change would be your friendship into something else, but it never came, the only thing that changed was Ben.

A loud banging at your door makes your entire apartment shudder and pulls you out of your memories of the past.

There's only one person who can do that.

Your home was a small two-bedroom apartment in New York City, but you loved it. It was quaint and comfortable and each time you came home you felt relaxed because you were able to shut out the life you lived everyday. The small kitchen was barely big enough for two people to stand in, but it made it more intimate and cozy. The living room had a soft leather couch, but no tv despite Ben’s complaints that you should get one. He hated that you couldn’t watch his films when he came over. You liked listening to music more anyway. Your collection of vinyl lined the living room wall in clean bookcases next to a small record player. The spare bedroom served as your studio, not that you were trying to sell your art, but because you needed a place to exist where you weren't a supe and where you weren't in love with Ben. There were stacks of sketchbooks in the studio closet from when you were a child, but you couldn't bear to get rid of them. Sometimes you imagined living here with Ben, cooking in the small kitchen while he read the newspaper, lounging on the couch and listening to music together, and falling asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You sigh, pushing away the warmth of the thought, and wave your hand to telekinetically unlock the front door behind you. The familiar purple glow from your abilities fills the apartment. Ben had a key, but you figured he just wanted to make an entrance.

Always the drama queen.

“Got anything to drink?” He asks as he enters the living room.

You glance over the back of the couch to look at him. He's more casually dressed now, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt the same color of his suit.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by, see if you’re still pissed.”

“As I recall it was you that was pissed.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Only because you were getting in my way Sweetheart” The way he says your nickname is harsh and mocking, so different than the way the old Ben used to say it. When it sounded genuine, caring, almost special.

“Because you were about to rip Noir apart!” You gesture with the pencil in your hand, snapping your sketchpad shut.

“That pussy deserved it. Thinking he was better than me. I’m fucking Soldier Boy and he’s nothing more than a-“ Ben scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Ben I can’t do this if you’re gonna be like this right now.”  You interrupt pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingertips, still annoyed from earlier. You hated that he did that, when he made you feel like his babysitter, when he made you feel like you had to make apologies for him.

“Like what?”

“High, drunk, acting crazy-“

“I’m not acting fucking crazy!” He snaps.

“Ben-“ You begin with a sigh.

“Fine.” He spits. “We don’t have to fucking talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” You wave a hand haphazardly towards the kitchen. “There should be some whiskey in there somewhere. Though I don’t think you need anything else to drink.” Your nose wrinkles as you inhale, the smell of stale alcohol wafting back, followed by the unmistakable scent of perfume and sweat.

The super senses really sucked sometimes. Smelling the women that Ben had sex with was an unfortunate skill you had acquired.

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, but waits for a minute eyeing you. “You’re not going to get it for me?”

You ignore his sharp tone and turn back to your sketchpad. “Nope. I don’t want to enable you.”

Ben stomps into your kitchen. It's immediately followed by the loud banging of him searching the cabinets for booze.

He should know where it is, spends enough time here.

“If you break anything, you’re going to fix it.” You shout opening your sketchbook back to the page you were on. You were drawing the Philadelphia of your youth, the familiar streets, the cars, and the women dressed in beautiful outfits.

“My hands are better suited for other things Sweetheart.” You hear him mutter under his breath and you try not to snap your pencil in half. His taunt made you think about Herogasm and the scent of perfume on his skin, and that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

Ben comes back and slumps onto the couch beside you, a large whiskey gripped in his hand. He sighs loudly to get your attention when you don't look up from your drawing.

"Alright, what is it?” You ask continuing to draw.

"Nothing.” He grumbles drinking from his glass.

“Ben, I’ve known you for over fifty years I can tell when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Well I doubt it’s over what you said or did to Noir today. So what is it? What are you not upset about?”

"I just thought it would be different." Ben swirls the glass in his hands.

"What?"

"Being on Payback."

"What do you mean?" You continue to sketch the shape of a woman walking down the streets.

"When I first started doing all this fucking superhero shit it was different. Felt like I was promoting something, now it kinda feels like I’m just here. And no one respects me.”

“They’re not going to respect you if you keep threatening them and beating up whoever pisses you off.” You mutter.

“They might.” He snaps.

They won't.

"Well the way things are going with Russia I’m sure there will be another war." You sigh, thinking about the recent newspaper headlines. Everything was devoted to the Cold War, everyone was afraid of what Russia was doing or what they were planning. Stan Edgar and Legend were talking about some Anti-Communist campaign videos and posters that they wanted you to pose for, but you weren't sure you wanted to.

"You think so?" He sounds optimistic.

"I’m not gonna hope for one, but probably. I get it though. You’re doing all those movies and premieres and photo shoots, it doesn't feel real."

It was exactly how you felt. You felt that all this supe shit was coming to a head and what did you have to show for it? A few pictures of you holding up a car or a painted caricature of you on the side of a jet or a short film with stupid prerecorded lines that made no sense and even more ridiculous outfits that Legend tried to get you to wear. When you got the serum with Ben you thought you’d be contributing something to society, but no. It was just like when you were a child, dressed up like a China doll, made to be looked at but never used.

"I like those movies."

"I’ve noticed." You breathe remembering earlier when Ben almost killed Noir over the movie role.

Noir technically started that, but Ben just took it way too far.

"What about you?"

The question catches you off guard. “What about me?”

"You haven’t done any movies lately. Legend said that you turned down a few films." Ben takes a swig from the glass in his hand.

"Aren’t you afraid that I’ll steal some of your thunder Soldier Boy?” Your taunt. “Because I already saw what you tried to do to Noir today. And I’d rather you not beat me to a pulp-“

“You’re not like Noir. You’re different.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You sigh rolling your eyes at him.

Ben sits there for a minute. You can feel his gaze on you. “I’d never hurt you y/n.”

The softer cadence of his voice makes you pause your pencil against the page. You knew it was true. Even when Ben was pissed off it was the line he never crossed. Ben never touched you when he was angry, but it never made it any easier to deal with him.

“Hey.” Ben whispers to get your attention, but you continue to look down at your paper. “Look at me.” His thumb comes under you chin to lift your eyes to his.

“You know that right?” Ben’s gaze is soft, you hadn’t expected it to be given the way he entered you apartment and his sullen mood. “You know that I’d never hurt you?”

The look in his eyes makes your throat tight, makes you see the Ben you used to know, who promised to look out for you and who promised to be strong for the both of you. And it hurts more than you thought it would, because you weren't sure that boy was still there.

“Yeah. I know.” You nod, but you don’t smile. You knew it was what he wanted to hear. “You’ve been talking to Legend about me?” You say to make the warm feeling of his touch fade.

He shrugs satisfied with your response, the softness fading from his eyes as he drops his hand. “I was worried.”

You fold your legs up under you. “I don’t know, I didn't love any of the scripts. And I’ve been thinking about getting out. I’ve been doing this so long-"

It was the first time you'd said it aloud to Ben. You'd mentioned it once to Legend and then made sure he never said anything about it. You weren't sure how Ben would react to you leaving.

"What?" Ben's eyes widen in surprise.

"Come on Ben, you’re telling me that you don’t want to have a normal life? Meet someone, have some kids, settle down? We’ve been doing this shit for years. Doesn’t get any easier."

"Sometimes.” He smirks at you. “So who’s the guy?”

“What?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“The guy you’re going to settle down with.”

“What makes you assume that I’ve met him?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. And I’ve never walked in on you fucking anyone. Plus, you never come to Herogasm-“ Ben pauses. “It’s not Noir is it? Is that why you were protecting him today?”

“No.” You scoff, shading the side of a building to avoid his gaze, because how do you tell him that you met the only person you’d ever wanted when you were 8 years old?

“Good.” Ben drinks from his glass. “I do think about it sometimes.” He says it quietly.

“Huh?”

“The house, having a few rugrats.” He shrugs. “Might be nice.”

“Yeah.” Your throat is tight imagining Ben with someone else like Countess, sitting at his wedding, watching him say those vows to someone else. You didn't think you'd be able to just sit there if it came to that.

“How about you and I get married?” He says it nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean it. He was just saying it to joke with you like always. Ben never saw you that way, you were realizing that more and more each day, even though it hurt to think it.

“We’d kill each other before we say I do.” You quip staring down at the page.

“Maybe. But really, we’ve known each other long enough-“

“That’s not a reason to get married. Plus, we both know that you’re not a one woman kind of guy and if you're actually being serious about this it would mean that you would have to change-“

You think about it. If Ben actually did want to commit, could he do it? His wandering eyes and hands would drive you crazy if he finally did want to start a relationship. You definitely did not want an open relationship. You wanted Ben to be wholly yours as much as you would be his, because you knew that if you devoted yourself to Ben, he would probably cheat, but then be furious if you spent any amount of time with someone else. You remembered all the ways he acted around Howard. Ben was crazy around him, and you and Ben hadn’t been together.

Imagine what he would do to someone else if we were.

“I can be a one woman kind of guy-“ Ben scoffs. “I can do anything.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” You mutter, but you know he can hear you.

Ben puts down his glass on your coffee table before his hand lays on top of yours against the sketchpad in you lap.

“Y/n.” He whispers. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, but you don’t look up at him, you can’t. Because you know as soon as you look into his eyes you’ll do whatever he wants.

But you didn’t want to be his consolation prize. You didn’t want Ben to marry you because he was bored, drunk, and he thought he might as well marry you. You wanted Ben to marry you because he was 100% head over heels for you as much as you were for him.

He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. Electricity thrums in your veins when you lock eyes, the look in his gaze is open, gentle, almost tender.

It reminds you of the boy you used to know. Lately you hadn’t seen him. If you were being honest, you hadn’t seen him much since the night he came to ask you to come with him, before the serum, when you thought he finally realized that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The only time you’d see the real Ben was when it was just the two of you, not the angry, macho, vengeful fighter for justice that he put on whenever he was in front of the team or in front of the cameras. You didn’t understand that. He said that showing emotions made him less of a man, but he never seemed to have a problem being different when it was just the two of you.

You hated that. In those quiet moments you felt your heart clench tight in your chest because each time you thought that he would finally admit that he loved you, that after all these years you were the one.

But he never did.

“I could change.” Ben whispers. “I could be with one woman.” 

“Ben.” You take in a deep breath to clear your head, fighting the ball of emotion that has begun to burn at the back of your throat. “You’re drunk.” You breathe.

He blinks a few times as if he can’t comprehend what you're saying.

“You always get like this when you’re drunk. You know?” You pull back from where his hand rests on your chin.  “But you can stay if you want. There’s some pizza in the fridge and I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” You stand and step around him, the urge to cry building in your chest.

“Okay.” Ben whispers to the air, because you're already gone, fleeing down the hallway before he can see you cry.

When you step into the shower you allow yourself to break. The soft sobs drowned out by the sound of running water. You wished you could move past this, all of this and more importantly you wished that you hadn’t fallen in love with him. 

Memories of the past lodge themselves in the back of your throat. You remember the day he begged you to come with him to get the Compound V injection, when you left your life behind and chose him. You thought that was his way of saying he loved you, that he couldn’t live without you. You were wrong. It hurt to admit that, but you were wrong. Ben didn’t try to build on the relationship you had, he kept it the same, the friendly banter, the hugs, hanging around with you whenever he couldn’t stand to be alone. He still slept over, but that’s all that happened. You thought that day meant something, that it was the beginning of something, some wonderful romanticized future filled with warmth and love.

You never thought it would be like this.

You didn’t regret going with him often, but on nights like this when it was late and Ben was drunk and he acted differently you did. Because it made you think that there was a chance of a future with him, but then when he woke up the next day sober, it started all over again with him being short tempered and a dick to everyone who was around him.

It was exhausting. And you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.

The only thing you regretted about the serum was that it made you immortal, invulnerable, and that meant whoever you decided to make a life with would die. There was only a handful of others like you and you hadn’t liked any of them except Ben. You wondered if this was your penance for saying no to Howard, your mother's last laugh when she said that Ben would never choose you and now you had to go on like this forever.

You remember the fear that you would be trapped in a marriage with Howard, you never thought that you'd feel trapped with Ben.

But now…

When you walk back into your bedroom, Ben’s already in your bed, laying on his back, smoking a blunt and looking at the ceiling. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, that you bought him forever ago so he didn't have to sleep in his jeans, and the same t-shirt as before.

“What did I say about smoking those in here?” You sigh, getting into bed beside him, but being careful as to not touch even though it’s all you want.

“It’s a free country doll.” Ben mutters, but he puts it out in the ashtray that you left for him on the bedside table. Because you knew that he would continue to do it even when you told him not to.

The amount of times he ended up here at night always surprised you. Ben might have been bed hopping, snorting, and drinking himself into a stupor but the amount of times you woke up with him in bed next to you was astounding. He’d let himself in with the key you made him for emergencies while you were asleep. It was almost like he didn’t sleep in his apartment anymore and you hated how much you depended on him being there in the morning when you woke up. But the truth was, Ben was all you had, and the thought of losing him scared you. Which meant you continued to put up with the man he became, trying to hold tight to the image of the boy he used to be.

You lay on your back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The inch of space between your bodies is almost too obvious. “I’m going to go to Philadelphia for a few days.” You breathe.

“Why?”

“My brother isn’t doing too well. His son called.” You say, your throat thick. “He said he thinks that it’s time.”

Your parents had passed a few years ago and Ben had gone to the funerals with you. When Ben’s father had passed, he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d drowned himself in the 21st annual Herogasm. And after he showed up on your doorstep smelling like sweat, drugs, booze, and cheap perfume. You’d made him take a shower before getting into bed. The next morning you had woken up in his arms, but more surprising was the fact that he had woken up before you and hadn't pushed you away, in fact he had held you closer to him. You figured that he needed someone there with him. His father had done and said horrible things to Ben, and you kept him company if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t admit it.

“I’m sorry.” His hand finds yours on the bed. The gesture surprises you.

“Yeah. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.” You whisper, squeezing it.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t age. Everyone else does. Means that we’ll always just see everyone else go.”

“But not us.” Ben says it like he’s trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

Does that mean it’s always going to be like this? Me waiting for him to come here after a 24 hour non stop orgy or after he’s had one two many? Just because he can’t stand the thought of being alone?

You didn’t want that future. You knew that he wanted to be there with you, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t the same thing you wanted.

Maybe getting out of this would be good. Put some distance between me and him, let me try to find me again.

Ben is quiet for a minute, the only sound you hear is the thrum of the blood in his veins and his heart steadily pumping it.

“Do you want me to come?” He says it slowly, his thumb rubs against the back of your hand in a soothing motion. 

The question breaks something inside of you, because you wanted nothing more than to have him there with you, but you didn’t want the version of Ben who was Soldier Boy, the loud, angry, short tempered version who was always high or drunk. The one that you felt that you needed to apologize for.

“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll get to see my great nephew. He’s supposed to be walking now.” You try to force cheeriness into your tone, but it doesn’t stick.

“Okay.”

You can’t help but wonder if Ben is hurt by your rejection. You did not often say no to him.

He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in fact he brings it up against his chest while he looks at the ceiling.

"Do you regret it?” Ben says in almost a whisper

"Hmm?”

“Coming with me.”

You pause for a second and think about lying, but finally settle on the truth. “Sometimes."

"Why?” Ben's voice rumbles against where your hand lays against his chest, and for a second you think he sounds almost pained.

"We’ve changed so much than who we were back then. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”

You didn’t want to say that it was him you didn’t recognize. Or that it always felt that you were running after the boy he used to be. The one that made you feel safe, comforted, made it feel like home.

"I don’t think change is a bad thing."

Of course you don't.

"It is if it’s in the wrong direction.” You whisper, but know he can hear you.

“So that’s why you want out? Because you don’t recognize yourself? Seems like a shitty reason."

“I just think it might be nice to try something new. I’ve been doing this for such a long time-“

“That’s why the films would be a good idea. If you want I can talk to the director about you being a co-star in the one we start filming next week. He won't say no to me-“ It was the closest you’d ever heard him come to pleading, besides the night he asked you to come with him to get the serum.

But why? Was it his way of keeping me with him? Was it because he didn’t want me to leave because he wanted me here? Or was it because he just wanted someone there to sit with when the silence was too much? The silence that seems to follow when he's not with me.

“Ben I’m okay. It’s okay I just want something different.”

“Like what?” You hand is still clutched in his where it rests over his chest and you can't help but wonder why. It was surprising. Sure Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but holding your hand for this long was unusual. You attributed it to the booze. When Ben got drunk he tended to be more clingy, he never admitted that, but you saw it.

“I don’t know. I just want a family again-“

“You have a family. You said you’re going to see your great nephew-" Ben says it like he doesn't want you to leave and it breaks something inside you.

How can he not admit that he cares about me? That he loves me? He has to after all these years doesn't he?

“I know. I mean I want a family. Someone to come home to every night, someone I love, someone who loves me-“ You fight to keep the frustrated tears from falling. The dream of him and you inhabiting your apartment together washes back over your mind in shades of gray. You wanted that so badly.

“Oh.”

“You don’t want that?” It’s taking everything for you not to tell Ben that you want it to be him, that you always wanted it to be him.

“Maybe.”

The silence grows between the two of you as you lay there and Ben still hasn't let go of your hand.

“Did you want to marry him?” He says after a few minutes.

“What?” You look at him confused. Ben isn't looking at the ceiling like you thought, he's looking at you. He almost looks, sorry. And you wonder again how much he's had to drink.

“That asshole." He clarifies.

"Howard?"

"Yeah."

“It’s been 40 years-“ You sigh as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. You chose Ben that night and you thought that him asking you to come with him meant that he was choosing you as well.

“Come on.” Ben squeezes the hand that rests against his chest.

“Why does it matter?"

“Because you’re saying you wanted a family. Someone to come home to and that pussy would have given it to you.”

You pause for a second trying to read his expression. “I like the idea of marriage. Of saying those vows to someone else.” You say slowly. “But I didn’t want to say them to Howard.” You don’t say that you wanted to say them to Ben, don’t say that the night he told you not to marry Howard you thought he was trying to tell you that he wanted to marry you instead.

“So you want to say them to someone?”

“Yeah. One day.” You frown, turning back to look at the ceiling. “You never want to say them to someone?”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately. “Maybe.”

Probably Liberty.

You sigh to yourself thinking about one of your least favorite supes that you’d come across. She wasn’t terrible, just pushy and into supes being united together. You also didn’t like that she felt that supes deserved to be worshiped, that supes were gods, but you knew you weren't. The powers were not random, the gifts were not given by God, they were given by the devil and all those deals came with a price. Even if you tired to walk away, you wondered if Vought would let you go. You also hated how much time Ben spent with her.

The thought of her leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and despite how good it feels, you pull your hand free from Ben's grasp  and turn your back to him, cuddling into your pillow. Your grip is so tight on fluffy material you wonder how it hasn't ripped, but you need to stop talking to him. Talking to him when he was like this made it harder and right now it was taking everything not to cry again.

And you were just so tired of everything. You wondered if one day it would be different.

“Goodnight Ben.” You whisper.

“Goodnight.”

And just as you drift into a dreamless sleep, you think you feel him put his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest, but when you wake up the next day you forget and Ben is gone.

n/a: Yeah, this chapter is really sad. And I wish that I could say it gets better, but honestly, it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. 😭😭😭

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know :)

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@onlyangel-444

[rat-rambles]

I'm gona explain to yall why I think Stanley is the one that's ace aro in cannon and not Ford or Bill. (Yes all head cannons are vaild blah blah I love acearo people I am one don't kill me)

So basically it comes down to if stan wanted some he could. Young stan seems to be considered relatively conventional attractive (not like ugly men don't mange to hook up but still) and even as a "ugly" old man he is the hottest old person in town befor Ford shows up and. Once he gets over his social awkwardness he is actually able to date he just isn't about that life. "What about Stanley's ex wife's" I hear you scream at your screens well thanks to Bill I have notes.

Thank you bill now could be lieing yes but frankly I don't think his god Alex would let that happen for something like this. Especially becuse it's way funnier if it's all cannon. Now I think 2 of them can be considered legitimate and there not exactly romantic are they. Stanley is well known to care more about money than any romantic relationship witch dosnt sound like some one who's not aro to me. I'll give that there are a couple jokes pokeing wholes in my theroy however personaly any atemps at straightness by stan just feel very performative to me. Like there's something a whole easy to about how stans masculinity is just a reaction to incurity but all I'll say for now is stan is despite to prove he's not a failure and part of growing up in the 80s and not being a failure is geting bitches. And yet he can't comit to a relationship for more than a few days and it's not for commitment isues bitch comited to a fucking portal for 30 years AFTER NEARLY FAILING HIGHSCHOOL. As I said if he wanted to he would.

Now I'm going to go on a long rant about Bill and Ford so if you don't want that stop now

Ok for the record staring off bill and ford are both unreliable narrators.

Ford (my first victim)

We've seen him get rejected twice in the show when he trying to flirt with girls the more famous one being when he gets punch thrown on him. Ford is a very scentive guy he can't handle rejection obvouly he's gona wax poetic about how it's not that he can't get any he's just you know so very busy. Funny how he's not busy when Bill comes into his life or fiddleford for that matter it's almost like that's not the problem

Now I can see how you can read this qa acearo core but all I hear is the autism talking. There is something intently funny to me about the idea that he stright up was dating a male sided demon and is like but am I gay. It's very conservative up bring of him very relatable. But seriously if he was ace aro he'd just lean into being superior not what ever this is.

Bill ( he wouldn't escape me)

Same thing yeah he wax poetic about chemicals witch yeah is something ace aros do but also like incels.

He literally is just asking dear not to ask him out a real problem when every freak reading this book wants to make out with him sorry Bill your hot shit.

The book is shaking you by the shoulders begging you to tell that he's lieing for clout. Bill is also begging you to take him seriously and he can't be serious if he can't even get any becuse he's a unlikeable losser.

Like I'm sorry guys the text just dosnt suport these 2 being acearo this is not the show for ace aro rep I'm sorry. This show is actually really really really obsessed with romantic relationships it's a well Alex keeps going back to witch is why I'm so sure about stanly becuse he's like the one character who actively rejects dating instead of just saying he's into into it. ITS GRAVITY FALLS EVERYONES A FUCKING LIAR.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

I just loove your mamma Donna!

Can you write about about dark Donna and reader having a 8 year old daughter. When reader told her about pregnancy Donna wasn't thrilled, she thought the baby would only be a nuisance, but she still cared about reader. However, when the baby was born, Donna's attitude changed, she became extremely possessive and loved her more than anything.Donna is also very overprotective of her child,for example, when she visits the village and someone is bothering her daughter, she acts like a she-bear defending her cubs. one day the girl goes outside to play, an hour passes and the child does not come back, Donna and reader start to worry, Donna decides to look for her daughter. When she goes towards the forest, she hears a scream and it turns out that several men are trying to kidnap the girl. Donna gives them terrifying hallucinations and kills them in a very brutal way.

Yesss!!!! Thank you!!! I'm glad to see you like them!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))))

No one touches our family

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slightly dark Donna, jealousy...

Word count: 6,173

Summary: She'll always protect you, both of you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Are you feeling better?” Donna asked, timidly peeking out of the bathroom door where you were refreshing yourself in the sink.

“I think so, I don't know,” you answered, letting the cold water run over your face, hoping that horrible dizziness would disappear.

The woman in black approached slowly, rubbing your back lovingly, but with something dark in her gaze.

“I told you to go out to dinner with your friends wasn't a good idea,” she whispered in a cold, dark tone, like every time she thought she was right.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, drying yourself with a towel.

“Here we go again…” you murmured, putting your hands on your hips, ready for another serving of jealous Donna, a very frequent one. “Ivana isn't the best cook in the world, but I doubt that was the reason.”

“Who?” she asked abruptly blinking in confusion, the shadow of jealousy darkening her face.

“Ivana, the daughter of… Oh, you know what? It doesn't matter,” you said amused.

You had already grown accustomed to that attitude, you knew that Lady Beneviento had serious problems facing a relationship like yours, that fear and doubts were still very present in everything you did.

After all, your relationship had started out of the blue.

As the daughter of bakers, your work in the village had led you to meet everyone who lived there, including the fearsome Lords.

You were never a particularly brave girl or with innate talents for commerce and dealing with people, but having no other choice, you had to develop those kinds of talents on your own.

Talents that, in a totally fortuitous way, led you to rub shoulders with the most important people in that sinister village. They may have been fearsome, dangerous, but you soon discovered that was just a facade. Each of them had dreams, ambitions, they seemed much more human than what you heard in the stories parents told their children, especially when one of them, Donna Beneviento, started to generate a different interest in you.

Calling it love was a bit hasty at first. The obsessive, fearful and possessive nature of the lady in black was something that was difficult to deal with, but little by little the love you began to feel for her made things easier.

Dark, sick, disturbed and strange, those were words that could define the lady in black, but you preferred to do it with the ones you discovered as you got to know her: sweet, kind, loving, attentive… Yes, you preferred those adjectives, although the first ones couldn't help but be present in your life.

You loved her, and so did she. That was the only thing to think about, that was the only thing that mattered to you.

Everything was going well, your relationship had gone through many phases, but they were all good. She had nothing to worry about and neither did you. You knew about her complexes about the changes that the parasite caused in her face and body, but none of that was enough to make you not want to know if it would work. And it did, it worked almost perfectly.

But for a while now, your body seemed weak, your stomach went crazy in the mornings and you were tired all the time. Something strange that you didn't give importance to until those symptoms worsened over time. You had a bad feeling...

“It does matter, I'm sure she poisoned you,” Donna said, crossing her arms.

If you didn't know her, you would probably think she was joking, but no, not at all, she was that paranoid, that jealous...

“What? Oh, please, Donna,” you said, unable to help but laugh. The dark glint in her eye told you that she wasn't exactly amused.

“I'm serious. There are a lot of people in this village who want to hurt you,” the lady said, looking down, with a broken tone.

“Me? Why?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a mocking smile. “Don't they like my bread?”

“They don't like me,” Donna answered. “And they know that if they want to hurt me, hurting you is enough to do so.”

“Okay, okay, what you mean is that I can't eat something that you haven't prepared, huh?” you joked, thus diverting the darkness from her thoughts.

“Yes, it can be a good strategy,” she said with a more relaxed look, with a beautiful smile beginning to light up her face.

You shook your head, biting your lip, and approached to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, one that had an immediate effect, relaxing the tension in her body.

The sad and sinister doorbell interrupted that moment, alerting the lady again, who ran downstairs, grabbing her damned black veil.

“The door, the door!” the doll Angie shrieked, jumping around in the hall.

Normally the puppet's attitude was annoying, but lately her shrieks were like torture for your sensitive ears.

“Angie, please don't yell,” you said, going down the stairs too, fanning yourself with your hand due to the heat that emanated from your body when you made a minimum of effort.

“Don't yell, don't yell!” she repeated mockingly, while you, unsuccessfully, tried to reach the door before Donna.

“Hello, Lady Beneviento,” a familiar and timid voice sounded from behind the threshold and you, seeing that you had arrived late, rubbed your eyes with your hands.

“What do you want, silly?” Angie asked, climbing into her owner’s arms, speaking for her, as usual.

“Is (Y/N) at home?” your friend Elena asked.

You looked up, sighing, waiting to see what the brunette’s reaction would be this time. She could scare the girl, she could make her demons chase her, she could be nice (unlikely) or she could close the door in her face. It was like a roulette wheel of misfortune, but one that you started to find funny.

“No,” the lady whispered, in her own voice, trying to close the door, something that you prevented with a quick movement, making Donna’s head turn towards you, annoyed.

“Yes, she’s at home,” you said, in a mocking tone, causing the lady to growl. Donna definitely didn’t like visitors. “How are you, Elena?”

“Oh, fine, I’m fine,” your friend said, smiling in relief at your presence.

“I'm glad to hear it, do you want to come in?” you asked pleasantly, opening the door wider.

“Can I come in?” the young woman asked, now looking at the Lord, who was breathing heavily.

“Can Elena come in, Donna?” you asked through clenched teeth, with a slightly threatening tone.

Another growl came out of her lips as she moved out of the way of the young woman, who timidly entered the mansion. At least the young Lupu didn’t displease Donna.

“Come, let's sit down,” you said, leading your friend into the living room, closely followed by Donna and the doll, who looked at the intruder in a sinister way. “You can sit with us if you want,” you whispered to the lady in black, who immediately shook her head, pulling Angie, who had pounced on the young woman, surely trying to scare her.

“Dai, Angie,” Donna murmured, dragging the puppet next to her, who would surely hide in the workshop until the girl left, as always.

“I want to stay with the fools!” the doll protested.

“Let her stay, Donna, she doesn't bother us,” you joked, causing her fists to clench even more.

The lady ignored your words and disappeared into the darkness murmuring words that surely weren't flattery.

“I see everything is going well,” your friend commented, calmer when Donna's intimidating presence disappeared. You raised your eyebrows and nodded amused.

“Yes, as always,” you said, relaxing on the couch, waiting to hear that the elevator had arrived at the basement and you could speak freely. “Did you bring it?” you asked in a low, almost imperceptible voice.

“Yes,” your friend answered, searching for something in her bag, a wrapped package that she handed you discreetly and you unwrapped, sighing, nerves starting to run through your body.

“Oh, thanks,” you said kindly, putting a hand on her arm. She shrugged, downplaying it. “Surely if I had bought it from the Duke, Donna would have already gone crazy. Damn fat guy with a big mouth…”

“It's nothing, (Y/N), anything for a friend,” the girl said, kind, as always.

You nodded, reading the instructions on that object. The letters trembled at the same time as your hands.

“Okay,” you said to yourself, looking for spying eyes around you.

“Are you sure that…?” your friend asked, making the same gesture.

“No, I'm not sure, that's why I asked you for this,” you said amused, silencing your fears with jokes, as you always did.

“What are you going to tell her?” she asked curiously.

You shook your head, letting out another nervous sigh, moving that strange stick between your hands.

“If it's negative, I guess, nothing,” you murmured, reading the instructions again. “I don't want to worry her in vain.”

“What if it's positive?” Elena asked, looking around, shaking with fear. Yes, well, that sinister house could scare anyone. You were already used to it.

“Well, I guess… I don't know, she has to know, I think,” you whispered. “I don't know, Elena, I'm a bit scared.”

“Well, it's, it's fine,” she said, gently rubbing your back. “You should get over your doubts.”

“Now?” you asked doubtfully, with your heart that seemed to want to jump out of your chest.

She nodded with an understanding smile.

“Yes, that way I'll be the first to find out,” she joked playfully, pushing you off the couch.

You nodded confusedly and decided to do as she said, slowly climbing the stairs to the bathroom.

You didn't have to wait too long. A positive symbol appeared on that test within a few seconds, confirming your suspicions. You checked it several times, there was no doubt.

“Well?” she asked when you came back down. Surely your face was a poem. You could feel the color slowly disappear from your cheeks.

“I'm pregnant,” you said, letting yourself fall on the couch and handing the test to your friend, who put on a surprised expression, without losing her smile.

“Oh, congratulations, (Y/N),” she said excitedly, giving you a quick hug. You remained motionless, something she noticed right away, moving and relaxing her face. “Isn’t... Isn't that good news?”

“I don't know,” you said, running a hand over your forehead. “Is it?”

“Of course, (Y/N), a baby is a gift from the Gods,” Elena said, getting a little closer to encourage you.

“Is it? Tell that to Donna, she gets jealous even of my shadow,” you murmured with a frown.

“Well, but... It's, it's hers, isn't it?” she asked in a worried tone. You shifted, annoyed by that question.

“Of course it's hers,” you said abruptly, shaking your head. “Yes, yes, it's I-don't-put-on -that-rubber-thing Donna’s…” you sighed, with your legs shaking.

“Well…” she sighed, without leaving your side. “I'm sure the news makes her very happy.”

You laughed nervously, not believing your friend for a second.

“Yes, I guess…”

When the girl left, you were left alone again, with that test in your hands and a lot of fears and questions.

Well, a baby wasn't something you expected that soon, at that moment, but deep down, starting a family was always in your plans. At that moment you would only have to do something complicated, tell Donna.

“Donna?” you asked, peeking through the doors of the workshop, where the lady was calmly working on her dolls.

“Has she left?” she asked in a low, hoarse voice, concentrating on painting a sinister porcelain head.

“Yes,” you answered, approaching slowly and kissing her cheek from behind, putting pressure on her shoulders to relax yourself.

“I'm going to see if I can catch her, I feel like scaring her,” Angie said amused, jumping off the table and leaving the workshop. Normally you would try to stop her, but on that occasion, you let her go.

“She's going to scare your friend,” Donna murmured, without looking up. “I'm not going to stop her.”

“Yeah, well,” you said amused, with a passive gesture of your hands, sitting down on a nearby chair. “It’s better this way, so I can talk to you alone.”

“Mm…” she murmured, with disinterest, something that made your blood boil.

“Donna,” you said, putting a hand on her wrist. She looked at you curiously, but again, she went back to her dolls. “Hey, I said: I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you. Talk, I'm listening,” she said in a low voice, dipping the brush in black paint. You rolled your eyes and groaned, snatching it from her hand and leaving it on the table.

“No, um... Listen, listen to me carefully,” you said nervously, avoiding the darkness with which she looked at you. She hated when you interrupted her work. “It's important.”

“What's wrong?” she asked, with all the attention you wanted, crossing her arms. There was no other option, you had to tell her.

You took a breath and closed your eyes, extending the test to the brunette, who took it confused.

“I'm pregnant,” you said in a small voice, your whole body shaking. You opened your eyes slowly, looking for a reaction from the brunette, who simply shook her head, blinking erratically.

“What?” she asked after a few seconds of tension. “If it's a joke...”

“It's not a joke, I took the test and it's positive. I'm pregnant,” you said in a more serious tone, crossing your arms.

Donna paled, closing her eye and sighing in a way that made your stomach turn.

“Oh, Gods...” she murmured, giving you back the test.

You, surprised by her reaction, decided to use another strategy, smiling tenderly.

“Aren’t... Aren't you happy? We're going to have a baby,” you whispered in her ear, with a scared voice, with tears in your eyes. She shook her head, not really knowing what to say.

“(Y/N) this… This is a problem,” she said in a low voice, looking away from you. “Why are you pregnant?”

“You're not asking me that,” you said with your eyebrows raised, nervous, just like her. “Wait… A problem?”

“A baby is… It's not…” she stammered, shaking her head, with that dark look again.

“It's not what?” you asked abruptly. “I think it's good news, don't you think?”

“No, of course I don’t,” she said with a nervous laugh, with her hands shaking, being grabbed by yours. “A baby is… It's not… Cazzo, (Y/N), why?”

“Why?” you repeated incredulously. “If you were so worried, you should have done something to stop it, right? How many times have I told you to put on a con…?”

“I'm not going to do that,” the lady interrupted, hitting the table with a closed fist, scaring you. “È umiliante.”

“Well, then you should assume the consequences, or are you going to kick me out of the house?” you asked, having a strange feeling, as if you had already experienced that before, twice, more or less.

“What? Of course I’m not, who do you think I am?” she said furiously, with a serious and annoyed look.

“I don't know, I…” you sighed, passing a hand over your forehead again. “Hey, I didn't expect it either but… I don't know, maybe it's nice to have a child, right? It's the ultimate expression of love.”

“Yes, but… Um, a baby is, it's just a nuisance, (Y/N), you know, they cry and stuff,” she said nodding, as if reaffirming to herself she was right.

“I know, but… Well, I'm excited about it,” you murmured in a sad voice, disappointed by her attitude.

Donna sighed, looking around for something to say, something to help you.

“I guess we have no choice but to accept it,” she said softly, taking your hand, regretful of her reaction. “Hey, maybe, maybe it's good.”

“That's what I think,” you said, letting yourself be caressed by the delicacy of her hands. “I'm sure it's good…”

Despite that almost childish reaction, the months passed peacefully. The idea of ​​having a child didn't excite Donna and you knew it, but even so, she took care of you, she took care of your baby even if it wasn't to her liking. She loved you, you knew it, for her you were always the priority, and you still were.

Care, caresses on your belly… The 9 months passed like a dream, one in which you were lightly, gently cared for in the best way possible. Donna may not have been excited about being a mother, but at least she bothered to pretend that those kicks in your belly moved her. You didn't really know if she was pretending, you never asked.

“Baby, baby, baby, baby,” Angie hummed, making your headache worse. At least the doll seemed happy, maybe too much.

“Angie, please… Shut up,” you said, putting a wet cloth on your forehead, with your hands caressing your already very swollen belly.

“What? I'm keeping you company,” the doll defended herself, climbing onto the couch and hugging your belly as well, something you didn't stop. Deep down, you thought it was adorable. “Hi baby…”

“You're going to drive it crazy,” you said amused, smiling at that interaction. “And me too.”

“It has to be called Angie,” the doll said, letting you breathe.

“We don't know if it's a boy or a girl,” you said, caressing your belly gently. That day your child was especially restless.

“Hey, baby, are you a boy or a girl?” the doll asked. “If you're a boy you could be called Angelo.”

You laughed, shaking your head, keeping that wet rag on your head.

“Anyway, I'm going to eat something…” you sighed, trying with great effort to get up from the couch. The doll squealed unpleasantly, pushing you to sit down again.

“Hey, hey, stop there, silly!” she shouted.

“Don't yell,” you said pretending to sob.

“Donna says you shouldn't move,” the doll said, with a cocky pose. “What do you want? I'll get it for you.”

“How kind of you,” you sighed, surprised by such kindness so uncommon in the puppet. “But still, I want to stretch my legs, otherwise I'll be stuck to the… Oh, shit…”

Frightened, you looked down. Well, at least you were at home.

“You fool, you peed yourself!” Angie shrieked. You didn't even make an effort to get angry, you were about to panic.

“Ugh, it's not… Shit, shit…” you muttered, breathing with difficulty. “Donna!”

The birth was complicated, but finally, after a few hours of torture, little Beneviento came into the world among inconsolable cries.

“Oh, Donna, it's a girl…” you said excitedly, holding the little baby on your chest, crying from joy and effort. “Hello, hello my love…”

The lady in black nodded reluctantly, but with a sincere smile on her face.

“Look at that black hair you have…” you commented, feeding your daughter for the first time. “Have you seen, Donna? You can't deny she's your daughter.”

She nodded again, without taking her eyes off her daughter, as if she was thinking about something. She seemed sorry, probably for her attitude. You didn't want to ask, you had the most beautiful thing in the world in your arms.

“It's incredible,” you murmured, cradling the baby in your arms, who was squirming in confusion for having been taken away from the warmth of your belly. “Don't you want to hold her?”

Donna sighed, looking away for a moment, biting her lip.

“I… Fine…” she finally said, extending her arms for you to hand her the girl, who seemed calm.

“That's it… Say hello to mom…” you whispered, handing the baby to Donna, who took her carefully. “Say hello, honey, ciao, mamma…”

Donna smiled tenderly, cradling the baby in her arms. The little girl kept moving, stretching, and by chance, one of her hands landed on the brunette's face, making her freeze with a serious expression.

“Look, she loves you,” you said amused, breathing deeply, relaxing after so much effort.

“She's, she's beautiful,” Donna commented, with the same surprised expression, playing with her fingers, letting the baby squeeze them tenderly. “It's… It's… Wonderful.”

You closed your eyes, relieved by your lover's emotional reaction, by the tears that were beginning to form in her eye.

“I promise I will always take care of you, my precious girl…” she whispered, gently kissing her daughter's forehead, thus beginning a new, unexpected stage, a change in the woman in black that you had not believed possible.

Time passed, and with it all of Donna's fears vanished, all of her worries. Nothing could stop her from taking care of her baby, from singing lullabies to her to help her fall asleep. Against all odds, the lady in black became the best mother in the world.

But not everything was good.

The jealousy, that overprotection of the brunette not only hardened with you, but also with the girl. Donna seemed almost obsessed with keeping little Fiorella Beneviento safe from any danger, with having everything she wanted.

It was not the best way to take care of a child, but you had to admit that tenderness, that eagerness to protect what was hers had an adorable side.

Eight years later, Donna continued in the same way, protecting you, protecting her daughter, her most precious treasures fiercely.

“Fio, hurry up and come here!” you shouted, leaning over the stairs, calling your daughter for a quiet walk through the village. “Oh, Donna…”

You sighed when the lady in black approached you, her black veil hiding her beauty. You hated it, you even thought of burning it.

“What's wrong?” she asked, shrugging, ignoring your protests.

“To see you with that on makes me nervous,” you said, stamping the ground impatiently. “Fiorella Beneviento! This is the last time I ask you!”

“Don't yell at the girl,” Donna scolded you, with a hand on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes and stole a small kiss on her lips, lifting the black fabric in a playful way.

“Fiorella!” you shouted again, at the girl's lack of obedience, which was not common, nor usual. You suspected that Angie had something to do with it.

“I'm coming, mom!” the girl said l, leaning over the railing.  “How annoying…” she protested childishly, slowly going down the stairs.

“Annoying!” Angie shrieked, going down hand in hand with the girl.

“If I remember correctly, it was you who wanted to take a walk through the village,” you said in a sufficient tone, dressing up your daughter while Donna gently caressed her black hair. She always had those gestures, she was always proud of her daughter.

“Yes, but I was reading,” Fio said, giving the brunette a quick hug. “Mamma, vieni?”

“Sì, tesoro,” she replied with a loving laugh. The little girl smiled wider and jumped for joy.

“Great!” she squealed excitedly. “Let’s go, mom, come on.”

“Yes, yes…” you sighed, winking at Donna, who followed you slowly.

The walk was quiet, more than usual. Well, if you ignore a snowball fight between Fio and the doll, of course.

“Hey, I'm glad you came,” you whispered, walking hand in hand with Donna, surrounded by a shower of snowballs. “Thanks,” you whispered in her ear, kissing the visible part of her face, earning a shy giggle.

“I don't like you going to the village alone,” she said with a cold voice, but squeezing your hand affectionately. “It's dangerous.”

“You know what? I'd rather you told me you felt like taking a walk with me and your daughter,” you joked, frowning playfully.

“That too,” she said in a whisper. You nudged her slightly and hung on to her arm, letting her slide a hand around your waist, making the walk much more romantic.

“I love you, Donna, you know that, right?” you whispered, sighing, enjoying your new life.

“Me t...” the lady replied, abruptly interrupted by a snowball that hit her face. “Me too.”

“100 points, Fio!” Angie shrieked, bursting into deafening laughter. The girl approached slowly, rubbing her hands in apology.

“Scusami, mamma,” she said in a fearful voice, as Donna took off her veil and brushed the snow off of it.

“Don't worry, tesoro,” Donna whispered, brushing the snow off as you struggled not to laugh. You failed, causing the brunette to look at you with a fiery eye. “Do you find it funny, (Y/N)?”

“No, no…” you lied amused, making your daughter laugh as well, who put her hands covering her mouth. “Well, maybe…”

“Maybe? Fine, fine,” Donna said, nodding seemingly disinterested, winking at Fio and moving away. “Come on, laugh now!” she shouted as, after bending down, she threw a snowball directly at you, leaving you speechless.

“Right in your face, silly!” Angie mocked, as you brushed the snow off your face, crouching down furiously to counterattack.

“Mamma!” your daughter said, pulling the brunette's dress to move her out of the path of your throw.

The laughter, that improvised battle was all you needed to get through the day.

“Can I go play with Rox?” Fio asked, when you arrived at the village, where a group of children her age called her, her friends.

“Ask Donna for permission,” you said, pointing at the brunette, who was looking at fabrics with Angie.

The girl nodded and ran with her mother. Surprisingly, she nodded, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, pushing her towards the children.

“Wow…” you said, approaching her seductively. “Mamma is in a good mood today, mm?” you teased, grabbing her waist and kissing her from behind.

Donna laughed, running a hand through yours and moving to get you to move away.

“It’s okay if she plays with her friends,” she whispered, studying one of those fabrics with her touch.

“Oh, wow, it’s okay now, is it? I thought you said they were little demons who shouldn't get close to Fiorella,” you murmured, touching the fabrics passively.

“Yes, but... I, I can't help but remember my childhood,” she explained, paying the weaver for the chosen fabrics. “I was very lonely, (Y/N). I don't want that for our daughter.”

“Well, I like that. I like you think that way, Donna,” you said affectionately, walking beside her, enjoying some time alone.

Relaxed, the two of you leaned against a fence, with all the shopping done, waiting for the girl to stop playing. Donna caressed you affectionately while you leaned your back against her body, letting yourself be intoxicated by her affection.

“Loser, loser!” the children shouted, getting your attention.

“I didn't lose, you cheated!” Fiorella protested, kicking the snow furiously. Small steps were approaching

“Donna, silly, they're messing with Fio,” Angie said, tugging at your dress and comically pointing at the kids.

“What?” Donna asked, turning away angrily and looking at those kids, who, indeed, seemed to be laughing at your daughter. All your alarms went off at that moment.

“Hey, hey, Donna…” you said, grabbing the brunette's wrist. “Stop right there. Leave it be. It's kids' stuff.”

“No, I'm not going to let them laugh at Fio,” the brunette protested, breaking free from your grip.

Angie and you looked at each other and you rubbed your eyes, sighing helplessly.

“Donna…”

“Mamma!” the little girl shrieked, running to hug her mother, who appeared like a shadow, making the children immediately fall silent. “They're making fun of me…”

“Who, tesoro? Them?” Donna asked, as you approached slowly, shaking your head.

“Lady Beneviento,” some of those children muttered, petrified, scared.

Donna crouched down, with her daughter hugging her tightly, looking hatefully at her friends.

“It's very rude to laugh at others, did you know that?” she whispered in a dark voice.

The children nodded. It could almost be a comical image.

“Do you know what I do with children who laugh at others?” she asked again, threateningly. The little girl smiled pleased, looking at her mother with admiration. Donna always defended her, always.

“No, ma'am,” they answered at the same time.

“I lock them in my dark basement with my dolls…” she whispered in a hoarse, terrifying voice. “And when they get tired of crying, they realize that they will never be human again, their limbs are made of wood…”

“Hey, Donna…” you said unable to help but laugh. She looked at you briefly, but then at the doll, which lunged at them. “Aren't you going too far?”

“Come with me, kids, I want you to be my friends!” Angie shouted, scaring those poor children, making them run away.

Donna laughed with satisfaction, high-fiving Fio, who stuck her tongue out at them mockingly.

“I'm sure you won't laugh at me again!” the girl shouted, with a proud smile, which dangerously reminded you of Donna's.

“Great, you can be proud,” you said, holding back your laughter as you saw those children flee in terror. “You've created a trauma for an entire generation.”

“They were messing with me, mom,” Fiorella protested, pouting.

“They were messing with her, (Y/N). They deserve it,” Donna said, proud and satisfied.

“You know you're not going to be able to protect her forever, right?” you asked in a melancholic whisper, hanging on her neck while your daughter talked about how fun it had been to scare her friends with Angie.

“I know but, but as long as I can…” she said stammering nervously, always looking at the girl until your hand stopped her, lifting her chin under the veil.

“You're an angel,” you said, lifting the fabric and stealing a kiss from her. “Come on, let's go home, it's almost time to lunch.”

The afternoon came after a quiet meal, full of laughter and Fio imitating her mother's exploits. You couldn't deny that she was quite the artist, she imitated Donna perfectly, especially her dark side. You didn't know if that was good, but at least it was funny.

“Can I play outside, mamma?” the little girl asked, interrupting your romantic reading on the sofa.

“Yes, tesoro, but wrap up warm,” Donna said, pulling your body closer to hers.

“Grazie!” she squealed happily, leaning in to kiss her mother's cheek.

“Hey, hey, hey, what about me?” you protested, pointing to your cheek, which she also kissed before going out into the garden.

“And me?” Donna asked amused, pretending to pout. You laughed, biting your lip, and leaned in to kiss her slowly, a kiss that was perhaps too hot for that moment.

That kiss led to more, hungry caresses and your body resting on hers, legs on either side of her hips, moving slowly.

“Gross!” Angie complained, moving past you, just to annoy you.

“Angie…” you groaned, blinking in an annoyed manner. “Why don’t you go play with Fiorella?” you asked, ignoring the doll, continuing your kisses to the brunette, who was already breathing heavily.

“You want to be alone, huh? Good luck with that,” the puppet mocked, pulling you away from that improvised passion.

With a grunt and a movement of her hands, the doll fell limp on the couch. Donna’s thing, of course.

Time passed quickly, that little moment of madness was quick, but intense. The book you had abandoned returned to Donna’s hands after catching your breath and taking a shower. Maybe too much time had passed.

“Mm,” the brunette murmured, when the clock in the hall announced the time.

“What's wrong, honey?” you asked, sighing, leaning on her shoulder.

“I'm worried, (Y/N), Fio's not back yet,” Donna whispered, looking at the clock again, closing the book.

“Oh, you know how she is…” you said, enduring Angie's blows, protesting for having been deactivated. “If it were up to her, she would spend the whole day in the forest.”

“The forest?” the lady asked, looking at you in surprise. “What do you mean by the forest?”

“Well... It's where she plays, didn't you know?” you said, knowing that you had said something you shouldn't have.

“Of course I didn’t, I would never let her go near the forest by herself, what were you thinking?” she said, nervously, getting up from the sofa and walking towards the entrance, grabbing her inseparable black veil.

“Hey, hey, come on, Fio isn't a baby and she's on the grounds, nothing will happen to her,” you said, stopping the brunette, who had already covered her face.

“No? Look at the time,” she said furiously, pointing at the clock. “She's been gone for two hours, (Y/N).”

“Okay, hey, calm down,” you said, putting your hands on her shoulders.

“Don't ask me to calm down,” she hissed, pushing you away and walking back to the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked, grabbing your coat and following her closely along with the puppet.

“To find my daughter, of course,” Donna said, letting you go first and looking at the garden. “Fio! Sei qui?”

“I told you she's in the woods…” you said impatiently, crossing your arms.

“Then let's go to the woods,” Donna said, with a sigh, pulling your hand, almost dragging you along the path.

“Fio?!” you both called.

When you saw that the girl wasn't playing in the usual place, in the old gardener's house, you started to worry too.

You let her play there because you knew it was safe, Fio was 8 years old and as smart as her mother, and there weren't any monsters around there that could stalk her, or so you thought.

“Lasciami andare!”

The unmistakable scream of the little girl reached your ears, and Donna didn't waste a second to approach the source, running desperately through the forest.

“Don't bite me, damn it!” an unknown man screamed.

When you arrived at the place you had to take a deep breath to keep from panicking.

Two villagers you didn't remember seeing were holding Fiorella, trying to tie her up with a rope. You couldn't react.

“Be careful, be careful, if we hurt her she won't be worth anything,” the other man said, managing to tie the little girl's hands.

“This girl is a demon, no wonder she's the daughter of...” the stronger man said, grabbing the girl, who was kicking on his shoulders. “Lady Beneviento.”

“Oh, shit, I told you!” the shorter one shouted when Donna appeared from the shadows, calm, with a firm, slow, stalking step.

“Mom! Mamma!” the girl shouted, turning her head and kicking harder.

“Let my daughter go,” you hissed, threatening, at Donna's apparent inaction. “Calm down, honey, we're here.”

“These bad men want to take me with them!” the little girl explained, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

“One more step and I'll kill the girl,” one of them said, grabbing the girl by her black hair. Donna trembled with rage, but she didn't lose her nerve.

“How brave of you, kidnapping a little girl,” you said, furious, without losing sight of the girl, who was complaining about the tugging.

“Shut your mouth, you stupid sick girl… If you want this girl, you'll have to pay for it,” dumbest of the two, the most stupidly shameless said.

“Sick? You mor…” you growled angrily, walking towards him, being stopped by Donna, who put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you until you were behind her.

“Pay? No, we're not going to pay,” Angie said in a dark, serious tone, with Donna's voice.

“No? Well, well, then we, we…” the other man muttered, fighting the girl's protests.

“Dare to touch her, you miserable bastardo,” Donna said, in her own voice, walking towards them. “Dare, come on.”

“I, I'm leaving,” the short man said, trying to escape. It was impossible.

Fio broke free from her grip and ran into your arms. You picked her up in relief, untying her ties and calming her tears.

“Shh, that’s it, mom’s here,” you said, lifting her into your arms. “Donna, let’s go home.”

“No,” she said, extending her hand to the two men, who fell to the ground in horror. “Take Fiorella away from here. Now!”

You nodded and obeyed, carrying your daughter away from that scene.

Horrible screams filled the quiet forest. You crouched down, covering the ears of the girl, who was still scared.

“Hey, no, look at me, look at me,” you said, when the girl tried to look over your shoulder.

“Is mamma okay?” the little girl asked, pretending to be braver than she was.

You nodded with a fake smile, putting her coat back on.

“Of course she is,” you said, wishing for those horrible screams to stop.

A short time later, the lady in black and the puppet appeared from the shadows.

“Mamma!”  the girl screamed, running into her arms.

“Are you okay, tesoro?” she asked, as if she hadn't just brutally killed those bandits. That coldness gave you chills.

“Yes, mamma, thanks for saving me,” the girl said politely, hugging the brunette, letting Angie hug her too.

“Hey, Donna,” you said, approaching cautiously. “I didn't think that, that she could be in danger.”

“I know,” she said, forgiving your carelessness. “Relax, (Y/N), I told you I would always protect you.”

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Older Male Yandere x Young Female Reader

I don’t want this to sound/look bad, but a new yandere who has DILF energy. NOT an actual DILF (he doesn’t have any children…yet), but he could basically pass as one since he’s amazing with children and is on the older side (so like 40s?)

I’m sorry…I kinda have a thing for older, mature, responsible men. And I just wanna be a baby girl for them sometimes (yes don’t worry I’m an adult adult, not someone who just legally became an adult; I know about relationship power dynamics, potential for abuse, etc.)

P.S. There needs to be older yandere men in general (like genuinely older than reader darling). It’s such an untapped archetype

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Dilf! NSFW asmrtist! x Fem! regular! Superfan! Reader

Hmm, I actually had problems thinking of what to put as a plot... Then my keyboard autocorrected Dilf to D*ldo and I was like 👁️👄👁️ and then WAIT. HOW ABOUT A NSFW ASMRTIST? (since you know, d*ldo is sexual and some people please themselves with the toy when they listen-- you get the gist)

I remembered a certain ASMRtist(?) that introduced me to NSFW yandere audios, so I'm naming the yan from him. He just did one from what I know? But "Hot Boy Summer" will have a special place in my heart bajwkdkxmf

Note: this one has explicit NSFW in this one, just putting it out. Daddy kink, but only mentioned once.

Yandere! NSFW asmrtist name: Rose

"Another Rosas banger"

"It was so good help"

"My legs just spread apart"

"Daddy just served dinner AND I'M EATING WELL TONIGHT"

As Rose posted on a certain subreddit for NSFW audiophiles, people immediately flooded the post. They upvoted, commented, some dared to share.

But to a lot, it's a sweet, dirty secret that they listen to NSFW audios. Especially yandere audios.

I mean, who in their right mind want somebody as obsessed and possessive as yanderes? Even in fiction, they are weird!

Well, not for Rose and his audiences.

He feeds into their fantasies. May it be CNC, full on NC, BDSM, or his audience's favorites: Yandere Dilf audios.

God, people eat them up like no other.

Due to this, Rose, with his username RosasAudios, achieved some kind of cult following. Close to a million followers, he made being an NSFW voice actor a full time job.

His naturally deep voice with a little bit of huskiness, a little bit of accent that's vaguely SE Asian, and an undertone of sweetness, made people giggle and writhe in their bed. And to those more peculiar, he feeds into their daddy issues.

He was never loud in his audios. Just a modulated talking tone, maybe even a whisper. So when the NSFW part happens, due to the binaural nature of his audios, it feels like he's really there when you listen to his audios. Whispering hot breath into your ear as the wet sfx filled your senses.

He loved the attention. But at most, he looks at it as a past time that provides enough money to live in slight luxury due to commissions and subscriptions.

In reality, he's a 40-ish year old man, living alone in a suburban neighborhood. Bookish in nature, he dons a soft, yet reliable look. Messy hair that covers his forehead, thick framed black eyeglasses, a carefully trimmed short beard that clings to his olive skin, soft, resting eyes that feels like it soothes one's soul whenever they look at them, a tall frame with enough buff-ness that one can rest on his chest with comfort, and an outfit consisting of light academia clothes of sweaters, shirts, pants, vests, etc. Laugh lines and slight wrinkles decorated his handsome face.

Even then, neighbors swoon for the man. Even married people.

He's sweet, reliable, generous, kind, good with kids. Why doesn't he have a spouse again?

With a gentle shake to his head, he scratches his neck and whispers bashfully with a red face.

"I'm waiting for somebody."

That made people swoon over him more.

As people longingly look at the lonely man, he bows to them and enters his home to record another set of audios for the highest tier on his subscription.

And, despite having a handful of people there, there's one person he's excited on making a dedicated, personal audio for.

You

And you? A superfan. You've been listening to Rose for a long time. Dare I say, one of his first, if not the first, regular.

You discovered him first when your friend introduced you to the subreddit.

His post, not getting that much attention due to being plain. No that much tags nor flairs at all. Just an inconspicuous "first audio [M4F] [Vanilla] [yandere]" and that was it.

When you listened, the mic had a weird quality to it, but god where you aroused due to how genuine it sounds. Like he's specifically talking to you with how... Personal it sounds.

And yeah, his first audios were not for you at all. Just your typical audios for a lot of people.

So, you lurked on his account, being his first follower.

You commented on the post also.

"first audio? Are you sure? You sound so good! This is my first time here in the subreddit. And if a newcomer like you already has this quality, I know I'll have a good time here."

Lengthy, but it gave Rose the boost of confidence he needs.

So, naturally, he replied.

"thank you so much! I just saw this subreddit one day and, by sheer boredom, decided to try it. It's weird, but thrilling. And it's your first too? I'm glad to be your first 😉"

He felt the wink and joke was too risky, but you replied in barks so, despite being bewildered due to not used to internet in-jokes, he laughed and decided to continue the grind.

Even as he continued to pump audios, you never failed to listen to every. Single. One.

You were in love with his audios and voice.

And he was falling for you.

God, is it weird to fall for a stranger on the internet?

So, by the time he reached 100k followers, he decided to do a small meet and greet online to those who can decipher the message.

And you, feral little minx you are, deciphered it in a jiffy and slammed the answer on his inbox.

You were the first too.

Rose, frozen, shakily sent you the zoom meeting room.

Nobody other than you deciphered the message yet.

He wants to talk to you one on one.

So, as he fixes himself and slaps his own cheeks to wake him up, he nervously waited for you to join the meeting with the password.

Then, he saw you.

Gorgeous, beautiful you.

His eyes sparkled like it didn't sparkle before. His heart, painfully beating on his chest and his ears, overflowed with attraction and love as he drank in your figure.

"Rosas omg hi! We finally got to talk one on one. Well, as one on one as a video call is."

Oh, how he groans. Your voice is sweet and lovely in his ears.

"Hi, y/nDarling. I can't believe I get to see the face of the person who has been with me since... Forever!"

"Right?! And damn. Rosas, take this with full confidence, alright? You're fucking hot."

Rose shakes his head with a chuckle.

"You... You're as cheeky as your typings."

You stuck out your tongue childishly and he laughs. His deep voice making you shiver.

"Oh and, you're actually old?"

"ouch?"

"OH MY GOD NO WHAT I MEAN IS, since you frequently make dilf audios, and you're actually one--"

Rose blinks. You consider him a dilf even in person?

He leans forward with a lopsided smirk.

"So, you consider me as a daddy you'd like to fuck?"

"No, stop STOP I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! WAIT, I MEAN IT, WAIT OH MY GOD ROSAS PLEASE STOP TEASING ME."

And as he laughs loudly, he knew you were the one.

He continued to talk to you for a long time, due to his other followers being quite slow in deciphering the message.

He did make the message with you solving it immediately in mind, while the others will struggle.

They were not you, after all.

Why would he care?

When he ended the video call, he had a silly, lovesick grin on his face.

He wants to make an audio.

And that audio was his most viral due to being so genuinely feral, lovesick, and longing it is for the listener.

"Ugh... Fuck, you're so tight..."

"Bend over for me, love. Don't you fucking dare crawl away."

"yes, just like that. Open your mouth, stick out your tongue like that..."

Rose, in his recording studio (his walk in closet), recorded the personal audio for you. You requested CNC, predator and prey, DILF, and breeding, along with other tags that can make a victorian lady die from how obscene it is.

At first, when he opened his subscriptions, he was bewildered by your wild and straightforward requests, but now he's used to it. Maybe even love it.

He imagined you bending over for him, your sweet hole gripping his c0ck as he pistons inside of you. Your tear stricken face, aroused with fear and desire, looks at him, begging for more.

Rose flinches, as he lets out a loud groan to the microphone. Cumming all over his hands.

Hey, it helps with authenticity, okay?

Rose sighs, imagining you cradled into his tight embrace as he said the last lines of the script.

"You're mine, y/n. Nobody else's, just mine."

And, he ends the audio with a sloppy kiss.

He slumped down to his chair, spent yet satisfied.

But he wants more.

Yes, he did screenshot when you video called him, but that was it. It was years ago too, and he needs more material.

After cleaning up, he spun around and went to the computer to edit his raw audio with sound effects.

At first, it was weird hearing his voice saying all of the deprived shit he said, but now it's just work.

But with your audios, he was meticulous. Making sure to put as much genuine wet sfx (from him masturbat1ng), and atmospheric sfx to make your listening experience the best of all. Yours were the longest too, at least climaxing twice every personal audio.

Can you tell he has favoritism for you?

And, when he finished editing, it was already morning.

Sending the audio to you, he stood up, stretching, and went to the kitchen to make himself coffee.

It was supposed to be a typical Tuesday. Nothing that much happens in this suburbs, let alone the town he's in.

So, he turned on the radio, grabbed his coffee mug, and went outside to watch the beautiful sun coming up to the sky.

Settling in his usual chair on his patio, he drank his coffee, greeted people as they passed by, doing their own thing.

The wind was kind of cold, but nothing unwelcomed as Rose's attention got picked up by a moving truck just in front of his home.

Huh, finally. A new face to the suburbs.

He drank his coffee, before coughing it out when he saw a familiar face getting out of the car following it.

It was you.

How?

What?

Why?

Huh?

He watched with wide eyes as he watches you bounce around in excitement as you helped the movers take out your things and into your home.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to run to you, embrace you and twirl you around.

But no, not yet.

Why are you here?

By some kind of sick joke, he thought you were stalking him.

But no, that's too much.

You're too sweet. You can't do that.

So, he just watched, waiting for you to notice him.

But you didn't, too busy on your own work to notice the older man on his patio looking at you with such longing and desire.

With you finally going inside your home, he ran inside the house and slumped down behind the door. He clutched his chest, eyes wide, blood pumping, soul rattled.

You were here.

You came to him.

He gulped, shakily standing up. The coffee mug forgotten outside but who gives a shit right now.

You're so close to him, within his grasp, and he will make sure to utilize it.

He went to the kitchen, immediately whipping up breakfast food from your country of origin before stopping.

Were you allergic to anything?

God is he stupid?!

4 decades of being alive yet he forgets if you have any allergies?

His hand shook before scrapping the food altogether.

What should he do?

He decided to whip up something relatively tasty and safe before letting it slightly cool down.

He rushes to his room, frantically showering and lathering and cleaning as much as he could, getting dressed in his casual fit that looked like he just "carelessly put together despite how amazing it looked". He trimmed his beard, dabbing on serums and moisturizers, concealers on his eyebags, before running downstairs.

He grabbed the food before rushing to your doorstep.

Wait, would it be weird?

Wouldn't it be awkward?

He did do NSWF audios, so that means you pleased yourself to his voice, right?, ( God please let it be real that you did use his audios as material)

So, it's like... Maybe seeing your teacher in public?

No, the comparison is off.

He knocked on the door.

"hello, do you..."

You froze.

He froze.

Time seemed to stop as the both of you looked at each other.

You recognized him, he recognized you.

"Ah... Rosas...?"

He grinned, laughing gently. You shivered, hearing the voice you unconsciously conditioned your body to become aroused in person for the first time.

"Hey, Y/n. Welcome to our neighborhood."

He revels in the desire in your eyes as you squeezed your thighs together.

You both became somehow good friends.

It was still awkward, seeing as how much you listened to Rose moaning and doing NSFW stuff.

But it didn't overwhelm your excitement.

It's like, seeing your idol irl, but you're his neighbor.

It made you giddy, happy, and nervous.

Meanwhile, Rose loves this new development.

He's not going to die alone.

You were there with him.

God gave you to him on a cement platter.

At first, it was just an innocent pass by.

He would pass by your house, looking at the inside by your window, his mouth whispering loving words to your figure inside. Then he got a bit risky by going boldly to your house at night to spy on you sleep.

But he wanted to know more about you. He ached, craved to know more.

So, with little to no morality left, and the only source he knew of extreme ways to show affection are his audios, he decided to fully embrace being a yandere.

At first, he still felt guilty. You inviting him over to talk, he pocketing some of your mundane things like a sock, and him bringing hidden cameras and microphones to plant inside your home.

He shivers. The thought of seeing you inside your home so vulnerable and unprotected is making him aroused.

Next, he does the next script. Using your sock to pleasure himself to make the moans and groans genuine.

The feeling of your sock, the knowledge that you wore this is making him burst at the seams.

"God, you make me feral, love."

"you're only mine, only mine. Nobody else to have you, just me."

"Yeah, cum for daddy. Come undone, baby."

How he wishes to tell you these words in person.

And, as he finishes with a jolt and a loud groan, he imagines you laying on his chest and him combing your hair with his fingers.

By the morning, he finished editing the audio, and uploads it.

He waits for you to listen to it.

He didn't need to wait for long, as the coms crackle with your giggle.

He turns on the hidden cameras, and saw you dive to your bed with headphones on, watching you close your eyes and probably imagining him.

He saw you look longingly at the window that faces his house, and he grins at the thought of you wanting him so bad.

He watches as you writhe and relax, your hands going under your clothes as you followed what's happening on the audio. He felt himself harden once more.

Fingers playing with yourself, and his hand encircling his hardened c0ck.

He pants in want, seeing you bite your lip and arch your back from the pleasure. Your eyes trembling with the euphoria.

He continued to please himself to you pleasing yourself, groaning and grinding into his hand. Wishing it was you.

And, as you came, he threw his head back, breathless and dizzy from the overwhelming pleasure.

As he stayed there lying, he watches you do the same thing again. Looking longingly at the window.

"Soon, love." Rose whispered to the computer monitor. "I will have you in my arms soon."

Both of you were relatively normal after that. Like you didn't just pleasure yourself to his voice and him doing the same to you.

But the unmistakable hunger in both of your eyes and teasing touches were a sign that things are going to break soon.

And he just waits until you can't do it anymore.

Yet he waits.

He'll continue to upload audios.

Make you ache for him so badly, knowing he's just a few meters away.

Who will break first?

But in the end, you will still end up in his arms.

"Come to me, love."

And he'll whisper to your ear lovingly as he breeds you in an animalistic way.

Don't you want that, baby?

[twistedmionn]

i havent played twisted wonderland describe all the main characters but badly

Ace: the perfect embodiment of your local chaotic 16-year-old

Deuce: mommy's silly little problem boy who desperately tries to multiply his singular braincell

Riddle: rule-obsessed tomato with anger issues who has never seen a bar of chocolate irl

Trey: teeth-brushing accidental parental figure who probably spikes half of his pastries with marijuana

Cater: the type of guy to sing Two Trucks during a mental breakdown

Leona: it's not me acting like an ass, it's my depression

Ruggie: so adorable that you wouldn't be mad at him even if he successfully robbed a whole ass bank

Jack: i-it's not like I like you, b-baka

Azul: ultimate bottom octobussy (according to approximately every Azul stan I've ever encountered)

Jade: default manipulative evil butler character

Floyd: fan-favorite psychopath

Kalim: what's wrong with manslaughter, why aren't men allowed to laugh? :'(

Jamil: in desperate need of "I'm with stupid" shirts

Vil: "Bad Romance"-era Lady Gaga fan who can & will give you a 5-hour lecture about why gender roles are a spawn from hell (he's right)

Epel: idolizes Gigachad & also radiates big transmasc energy

Rook: hon hon la baguette (French Duolingo owl)

Idia: Levi from Obey Me! except sassier, even more depressed, and with flaming hair

Ortho: that one young child who just casually hangs out with the adults & no one questions a thing (also likes genocide)

Malleus: stealing gargoyles from ancient buildings = a declaration of my unrequited love for you

Lilia: punk grandpa who looks like a teenaged Discord e-girl

Silver: classic love interest from one of those otome games where the MC is a super feminine brunette damsel in distress with bangs, an actual face, and literally no personality

Sebek: sasaeng fanboy

Grim: token glutton mascot character with a squeaky voice

Crowley: Diavolo from Obey Me! except he's an irresponsible middle-aged wannabe Michael Jackson in an aloha shirt

Crewel: TILF (teacher I'd like to fuck)

Trein: don't talk to me or my cat or my cat portraits or my cat mug ever again

Vargas: JoJo character

Sam: dealer who has some sort of obsession with the devil

MC: how tf did all of this happen

...and now, I'm asking you to guess my favorite characters based on these descriptions.