#if choosing one or the other starts a fight on which is “correct”

[tidal-chaos]

i have no idea if this will reach the target audience but...

for any introject whose source characters eye color was ambiguous in canon, either intentionally or otherwise, what color did you get introjected with? was it a seemingly random color? was it a color your& headmate(s) headcanoned your source to have? was it a color with significance to you(&)? or did your& brain short circuit and decide to give you an entirely non-canon and entirely bonkers set of eyes?

mine was the last one. my source character is notorious in the fandom for never having their eyes consistently described, as in, they would be blue on one page and then called yellow two pages later. so clearly i would have rainbow eyes that look like theyre melting on my face. obviously. (/lh /s)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji won't tell you he loves you, even when it's so painfully obvious.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Slight Angst

*The prologue is here🥹

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji has never felt more alive before. Toji’s known love before, but not like this. It isn’t sweet or comforting… Thrilling, yeah, he’d say it’s thrilling. He feels like a dumb teenager again, but he loves the feeling.

You’re sitting next to him in the car, singing along to the song on the radio as he drives you home. He has a hand on the wheel, the other caressing your thigh. It’s a little late, but your night is just getting started.

“Your singing is awful.” Toji tells you as he parks in front of your apartment complex. He turns down the song still, wanting to hear your voice better even when he claims it’s bad– That’s how he knows something is wrong with him. Toji would tell you to shut up if you were anybody else.

He turns off the car when the song is over, and you whine because he’s ruined your fun. You quickly get over it when he opens your car door, offering his hand, which you take to prompt yourself out of the vehicle. Your arm enlaces with his before you begin the short walk back to your place. 

“Your dad told me to make sure you get home safe, so no funny business.” Toji says, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s the one that breaks the rule first each and every time, it’s annoying to hear him say that even when he’s clearly joking.

“Step-dad.” You correct him, though you know it goes in one ear and out the other. He’ll make the same mistake over and over again. “Since when do you listen to him?”

“Since he promoted me.” Toji responds, which earns a chuckle from you. That’s fair enough. He lets go of your arm, choosing to rest his hand on your lower back until you’re finally at your door. 

“Alright, see ya.” You open the door and enter the place without even looking back at Toji. You’re shutting the door, but his hand stops it. His arm wraps around your waist and he brings you back to him.

“That’s not a proper goodbye.” He says, and there’s a smirk on your face. He’s not going to leave so easily, but you aren’t going to let him have his way so quickly. You’re convinced it’s the reason why Toji always comes back at your doorstep, seeking more. 

Since the very beginning, you both agreed that you didn’t want something that required commitment. It started off as something casual, but slowly your relationship has evolved. It’s come to the point where you call him your boyfriend to others– Though, when someone asks about your relationship status, you tell them you’re single. 

“No funny business, Mr. Fushiguro.” You remind him, and you feel his grip tighten. You can’t keep up the act for too long, quickly melting with his touch. He knows the effect he has on you, and you have to put up a fight at the very least to put off the illusion that you’re wrapped around his finger. 

“Since when do you listen to me?” He asks, and you hold your breath. You bite down your lip before slowly turning to look at him.

“You wanted me to take you more seriously this week, and I’m doing what you told me.” You’re fighting back on smiling right at his face. You’re right, you had a minor argument earlier in the week because you ‘treat everything he says as a joke’. He purses his lips together, thinking of his next words. “Do you have an issue with my attitude?”

Instead of answering, he chooses to pick you up from the floor, throwing you over his shoulder before walking inside. He shuts the door behind him and idles in your living room. Should he throw you on the couch or take you straight to the bedroom?

“Put me down, Toji!” You yell, hitting his back with your fist. It causes no pain or discomfort to him, so he’ll ignore you. On the contrary, your fist hurts from making contact with his back. “Toji! Put me down you big buffoon!”

He puts you down, per your request, gently laying you down on the couch. However, he gets on top of you so you really aren’t free. There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down at you, which slowly fades away as he looks into your eyes. His cheeks turn pink as he looks back and forth between your eyes and lips.

He’s in love, he really fucking is. Even at the mere thought of your presence, his heart feels like it's about to beat out of his chest. How can he not love you? You’re so fucking beautiful, and that’s the least impressive thing about you. You’re compassionate, intelligent, hilarious, respectful, responsible– The list goes on. You’re everything that he isn’t. 

“Toji, get off me if you aren’t going to do anything.” You stop the train of thought that goes through his head, and he proceeds to listen to you. You sit up on the couch, while he stands up, making himself welcome at your home and going to your kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

“You want some tea?” He asks as if you were the guest in your own apartment. You sigh, standing up from the couch and following him to the kitchen. You stay quiet, and he takes that silence as a no to his question.

You sit on the counter, watching every move Toji makes, in complete silence. Toji appreciates your gaze on him… But he can’t help but feel as if something’s wrong. You’re completely quiet, there must be something wrong.

“What’s on your mind?” He speaks up, not being able to bear the silence for too long. Silence between you is usually a good sign, he enjoys your presence as simple as it can be but there’s something up with you tonight. You’re watching him as if you were trying to figure something out. You shake your head, as if you have nothing to say but he knows you do, “I know that pretty little look on your face, you’re thinking of something.”

“I want to introduce you to my family.” You tell him, and he freezes. He furrows his brows before chuckling.

“Your family already knows me.” He answers, though he knows exactly what you mean. He’ll play dumb, that’s what he does best. He hears the water boiling, and he turns his attention to that. He hopes that with his answer, you’ll drop the subject. He doesn’t want to flat out tell you that he wants to keep things a secret.

“Where’s my mug?” He asks, searching the cabinets for the mug that he usually drinks from. That’s how serious things are, he has his own coffee mug at your place. He spots it, behind a nice tea set, one that’s usually hidden away. 

“I want to introduce you as my boyfriend.” You continue your conversation as he prepares his tea. He’s more than capable of talking as he pours boiling water into the mug, but he’s not saying anything. Your words fall on deaf ears. “Toji, I know that you heard me.”

“It’s such a big step.” He responds, and you feel your heart drop. A sheepish smile comes to your lips, and you nod in response. You’re not one to argue much, and you definitely aren’t a woman who will beg. 

If he’s not ready, then he’s not ready. He knows that you won’t wait around for him forever. He lets out a low laugh before saying, “Plus, I wouldn’t want your dad to kill me.”

“That man won’t be the one to kill you if you keep calling him my dad.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he stops what he’s doing to walk over to you. He loves that you’re sitting on the counter, with little room to escape. His hands go on either side of you, a cocky smirk all over his face.

“You killing me? I’d pay to see that.” His face is inching closer to yours, stopping when he’s practically breathing on your face. His nose touches yours, and you feel your body get hot as your heart threatens to beat out of your body. Your hands go behind him, interlacing on the back of his neck. His voice is much lower when he speaks again, “My big girl hurting me, oh I’d kill for that.”

“Since when are you a masochist?” You ask, and you hear him chuckle. When it comes to you, he’s everything under the sun. He’s looking into your eyes, getting lost in your gaze within a matter of seconds. 

He really is in love, it’s fucking sick. 

“Since a pretty little thing threatened to hurt me.” His hands go to your thighs, thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. If he continues, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied– Not that you particularly mind either.

“Your tea is going to get cold.” You remind him that there’s something waiting for him. You’re just waiting your breath, knowing that Toji has long forgotten about it. The moment he put the mug down, the tea was wasted.

“Good. I always burn my tongue for being too impatient.” He steals a kiss from you, and when he pulls away, you bring his head back. His lips are overpowered by yours, your tongue making its way into his mouth, pressing against his own. It’s more passionate than the innocent kiss he had stolen from you. It’s hard for you to stop once he gives you a taste. 

“Toji…” You place your forehead on his when you pull away. You look into his lustful eyes, the urge of asking a question that you shouldn’t ask now, overtaking you. But you will, because in order to get what he wants, he’ll say anything you want to hear. “Do you love me, Toji?”

His hands cup your face and he presses his lips against yours. It’s just one kiss. Then two. You lose count, and you’re getting lost in his touch. You’re melting with his every move, and the desire to hear him say he loves you grows. You’re desperate to hear it, even if it isn’t true.

“Toji, answer my question.” You put your hand over his lips, stopping him from kissing you more. It’s to no avail since it takes no effort from him to remove your hand, and resume kissing you. You don’t stop him this time, instead, you allow yourself to indulge.

You accept the silence as a no, which you won’t take to heart. He doesn’t have to tell you that he loves you when he doesn’t. It’s unfair to him when you agreed in the very beginning that this is something casual. You put him on the spot in hopes that he’ll take what you have more seriously, but he isn’t going to because it isn’t what he signed up for… So why does Toji act so loving?

Your legs wrap around his waist as he picks you up before carrying you to your bedroom. He knows exactly where to go, not needing to look away from you for a single second. He continues to kiss you so needily, he’s searching for something that only you can provide. 

“I need you.” He slips in inbetween kisses, which nearly drives you insane. It’s not what you asked to hear, but you’ll take it. He gently lays you down on the bed, once again on top of you and leaving you without an escape route. He kisses you slowly, his lips slowly moving down your body.

Toji’s kisses come to a halt when your clothing gets in the way. He wants to curse at the fabric for covering you up and making his job slightly more difficult. He gets up from the bed and hurriedly takes off every article of clothing that denies him the lovely view of your body. He nearly wants to rip apart every piece but he won’t risk you getting mad at him for it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Toji says, licking his lips before tracing back all the places he’s kissed, just this time he won’t be interrupted by anything. He’s going to fulfill himself to his heart’s content.

He kisses down to your breasts before focusing his tongue around your nipple. You feel a warm hand travel down your body, and getting caught between your thighs. You inadvertently get shy with him, even when this has become part of your weekly routine. He always manages to get past it, spreading your legs apart and stopping his mouth to tell you, “Now’s not the time to get shy, beautiful.”

His mouth wraps one of your nipples, sucking on it, as two fingers run through your slick folds. You’re already so wet for him, and he’d tease you for it but his mouth is too preoccupied to mutter a single word. Toji’s priority at this moment is making you feel good– As well as enjoying himself.

You’re softly moaning while Toji flicks his tongue, and his fingers rub your clit. He detaches his mouth from your nipple, his lips going up to messily kiss yours before going back to your breasts. His mouth wraps around your other nipple, beginning to suck as two of his fingers apply pressure to your entrance. 

“Toji–” His name rolls off your tongue when he pushes his fingers inside of you. It’s the sweetest melody for his ears, motivation to keep him going. Your voice is all he needs to hear. 

He doesn’t waste a single second in satisfying you, curving his fingers so they hit just the right spot. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, pleasure already consuming you. Your thoughts from earlier are long forgotten while he’s doing what he does best.

Your moaning gets louder as his thumb begins to play with your clit. It’s getting harder for you to contain yourself, since he’s stimulating you in every way possible. He’s moaning on your tit, the vibrations of his tongue nearly sending you over the edge. 

“You’re such a good girl, baby.” He praises you, finally detaching himself from your breasts. His eyes focus on your face and the look of bliss that’s written all over it– And he isn’t even close to being done. 

Toji takes his fingers out before the pressure that builds up in your lower abdomen can release. He’s usually not impatient, but his cock is throbbing in his pants and if he doesn’t deal with it soon, he’ll lose his mind. He almost feels bad for leaving you unsatisfied… Almost. The whine that leaves your lips makes a smirk appear on his face, making him comment, “Aw, you need me so badly?”

“Just hurry up.” You respond in complete annoyance. You’re clenching around nothing, needing him to fill you with pleasure. Just for tonight, he won’t tease you more. He just needs you so much, he can’t waste any more time.

Toji strips down from his clothes, spitting into his palm before taking his cock into his hand. He slowly strokes his cock as his eyes watch you… What position will he take you in tonight? Before he can even decide, your legs wrap around his torso. He’ll watch your face contort with pleasure to serve as another stupid reminder that he’s in love with everything you do. 

Toji’s cock runs through your folds, slowly inserting himself into you. A soft moan escapes his lips as he feels you around him, feeling too good. This is what he’s been waiting for all night; his definition of a proper goodbye from you.

When he bottoms out he gives you a moment to adjust, until you’re moving for him, a little too desperate to wait any longer. Toji’s hands hold on to your hips as he begins to move for you. Toji hates the feeling– He’s in ecstasy the moment he’s inside of you. He’s addicted to you like a drug, how is he supposed to ever move on?

“You feel so fucking good.” He says through gritted teeth, trying to contain himself. Although he sees that it’s not only him that’s struggling in keeping control. You’re arching your back, eyes rolling to the back of your head and lips parted as Toji hits every right spot.

“It’s too much, Toji!” You’re practically yelling, even when he isn’t doing much. He just does everything right even when he’s barely trying. It boosts his ego.

“You can take it, baby.” He answers as his hand goes down to play with your clit, adding even more to your pleasure. You’re completely putty with his touch. You’re absolutely nothing. It’s hard not to be when a simple touch of his makes you euphoric.

“Toji– Fuck!” You moan, and he fucks you with more vigor every time he hears his name. It fuels him. He wishes it was a sound he got to hear each and every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. 

“Keep saying my name, beautiful, it sounds so fucking hot.” He says and you chant his name as many times as he needs to hear it. Your mind is completely clouded, you’ll do his every request with the promise that he’ll satisfy you.

Maybe you should use the situation to your advantage– Hear what you want to hear, but you can’t. Toji’s completely dominated your mind and body.

You get louder as your orgasm nears, slowly taking over you. You’re clenching around him, getting him to moan your name because of the way you feel around him. Your hand is gripping the bed sheets, shutting your eyes as the pleasure of your body consumes you as a whole.

You feel Toji force your hand away from the bedsheet, forcing your fingers to intertwine with his. Your legs spasm as you reach your climax, a loud moan almost drowning out Toji’s words, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It doesn’t take too long for Toji to follow your lead, too worked up from the mere thought of being with you. Toji fills you up with his cum, not even bothering to make the effort of pulling out. He never does anyway, he’s not going to change tonight.

Toji pulls out, laying down beside you as you both pant to catch your breath. After this he’ll run you a bath and leave after a couple of kisses, it’s his usual routine. A routine he made to not get attached… A routine that’s gotten him nowhere.

You turn your head to look at him while he stares at the ceiling. The answer is no, but the question still weighs heavy on your chest. “Toji…”

“Hmm…?” He looks back at you, and there’s a spark in his eyes that’s unmistakable. You know that actions speak louder than words but you need to hear it.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You respond, and a slight frown appears on his face.

“Why do you need to know?” He questions, and you feel your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You bite down your lip, wondering if you should drop it. Never ask him again, even if you know you’ll regret it in the near future.

“I–” A sigh leaves your lips. You can’t hide it from him, even if he doesn’t love you or care for you the way you care for him. “My parents want me to get married soon.”

He knows. He knows all about your situation, more than he’d like to know. Toji doesn’t say anything to comfort you, instead, he brings you close to him. He kisses the top of your head, instead of telling you all that he wants to say. He’s not going to tell you all that you want to hear.

“I’m not worth it.” He mutters. He doesn’t want you to ruin your future for him. Toji wants the best for you; after all, he is in love with you.

Even though it's different from the love he's experienced, he's still in love. No amount of arguing with himself will disprove it.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, hope in your eyes that he’ll say something more. You’d do anything to have him say just a little more. But he shakes his head, refusing to elaborate.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Toji changes the topic, standing up from the bed and walking to your bathroom.

He’ll continue the routine, knowing it’s one of the last times that he’ll get to do it.

[mellosdrawings]

What's that? I finally took the time to make an actual character sheet for my Yuusona?

Yuu

17 years old, 1st year

They/them, probably on the aro/ace spectrum though they never really thought about it (they do get weird when people show interest in them)

Half Japanese half french

Probably has some flavor of AuDHD

Back home: Before they were kidnapped forcefully moved to Twisted Wonderland, they were the main caretaker of four younger siblings while their parents were busy working. One of their main worry now is whether their siblings are doing alright without them. Their deepest wish is to at least be able to phone call their family to reassure them that they are ok.

Personality: They usually prefer to stand to the side and observe rather than talk and engage with others. They tend to be very prudent with their actions, up until their patience runs out. They're actually pretty perceptive and great at reading others, they just keep everything to themself without realizing.

They make up their absence of magic with their fists and wits. People tend to underestimate them due to their size and quiet demeanor, but they can be vicious and ruthless when push comes to shove. They are not very expressive physically.

At school: Yuu has a terrible focus so they struggle a lot, even when the subject interests them. They are very fond of History of Magic but also hates it because learning a whole world's history in a few months only is a nightmare and a half. They also hate flying with a passion since they are scared of heights. If they could choose a club, Yuu would go for photography and/or filming.

At Ramshackle: Yuu cleans the dorm as a past time, it keeps their body moving while they're thinking about what problem they currently have. They hate cooking though, so when the cafeteria isn't accessible they try to cram themselves in whichever dorm will have them to enjoy someone else's cooking. They aren't very time savvy so they and Grim keep leaving late in the mornings.

Relationships (with Housewardens/OB)

Yuu has a soft spot for Riddle. Unless it's some rule they find completely nonsensical they tend to do whatever Riddle asks. Whenever Yuu comes to class with a clean uniform, it's because Riddle was around to correct their appearance.

Yuu and Leona's relationship is peak siblinghood. Once Yuu figures out that Leona won't act on (half of) his threats, it's over for him. He's one of the first Yuu comes to when they have a problem.

Yuu and Azul regularly try to outsmart each other. At first their interest with Azul is very transactional since he can help with everything Crowley can't be bothered to do (ie give Yuu an actual legal presence in this world) but since they have somewhat similar mindsets they end up getting along very well.

Yuu values Kalim's presence a lot. He's one of the rare pure hearted people at school so Yuu doesn't have to be hyper vigilant around him. It's a breath of fresh air. He is a bit too active for Yuu though, so they tire very fast around him.

"It takes one liar to know another" would be Jamil and Yuu's relationship starter. They had weird vibes from each other from the very start but Jamil did end up underestimating Yuu. Yuu is obsessed with Jamil's hair and regularly takes pictures of him.

Yuu is kinda scared of Vil (in a good way). If they were a tad more outgoing they'd be asking Vil to pose for their camera 24/7. Instead they quietly worship him.

If Yuu could, they'd adopt Idia (and Ortho). Yuu tends to miss their siblings all the time so they get a bit emotional around them both.

Yuu loves to observe Malleus. He's some kind of very strange entity that they can't get enough of and they don't understand half of what he talks about which tickles their curiosity a lot.

Yuu treats Grim like their own cat and plushie. They hold him in their arm as much as possible (until Grim gets tired of it and wanders off somewhere else) because it reassures them. They do fight a lot, a bit like siblings, but they also look out for the other all the time. Yuu sometimes agree to cook for Grim despite hating it.

Relationships (the less fun kind):

Since they're in a world they don't know with students who try to kill them every couple months, Yuu is very defensive in how they approach relationships. Everything starts as transactional and about how "useful" someone can be to keep around. They try to keep even the people they don't really get along with close for this reason.

They are actually very emotional (despite not showing it) so their heart takes precedence over their brain eventually. Despite not being particularly proactive they do go out of their way to help the ones they're close to.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.

Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.

It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.

Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.

Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.

Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.

The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.

“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.

She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.

Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”

Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.

“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”

Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.

Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.

“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”

“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”

“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”

For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.

“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”

Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”

The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.

Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”

To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.

“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”

With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.

Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.

Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.

The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.

“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.

“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”

Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.

Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.

The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.

Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?” she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”

Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.

Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”

Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.

“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”

She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”

Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.

“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”

With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.

“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”

The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”

“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”

“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.

“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.

Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”

“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.

“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”

[loudstan]

(67) Days of Whatever the Fuck that Was (Epilogue)

Summary: Chenle wasn't interested in committed relationships until he met the one. The problem is that now she is the one who doesn't want to commit to him.

Pairing: Werewolf! Chenle x Siren! Female reader

Warnings: Toxic behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamic, smut, angst, daddy Chenle supremacy, breeding kink, overstimulation...probably other stuff too, I don't remember.

AN: This is to give our toxic couple a happier ending. But you know me, I needed some angst. Things work out this time though, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

__________________________________________

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Chenle reprimanded you as soon as you both entered the penthouse. He took his shoes off and loosened his tie, glaring at you indignantly. “What were you even thinking?!”

“You told me to try to enjoy myself,” you replied nonchalantly, taking off your high heels and walking past him.

He grabbed your arm and you sighed. It meant he wasn’t done talking.

“Is that how you enjoy yourself? Getting wasted and flirting with my pack brother who, I cannot stress this enough, was the groom?!”

“I was sober,” you corrected him.

“Would it kill you to behave for once?” he groaned. “The entire pack was there–fuck, this is so humiliating–”

“Then stop trying to make me attend events and fit in your life, Chenle–”

“You are part of my life!” he exclaimed. “We’ve been mated for 3 months, Y/N. Get over it!”

“Because of a connection that you forced,” you spat angrily, pulling away from him and making your way to the bedroom.

“Oh, there you go again,” Chenle groaned, following you. “I tried to do things right with you, but you’re the one who started this fucked up dynamic we have!” 

“Blame me all you want,” you said calmly, sitting in front of the dressing table and taking your earrings off. “It doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t choose to be stuck here with you.”

Chenle’s furious eyes met yours in the mirror. He then glared at the handmade seashell necklace that adorned your neck. “What happened to the necklace I gave you?”

You pointed at the closet vaguely and he opened it to find a paper bag full of little boxes with all the jewelry he kept giving you. 

“I like this one better,” you said, taking the necklace off and placing it on the table gently. “It was a gift from my best friend, who I don’t get to travel with anymore because of you,” you commented passive-aggressively. 

“It covers my mark,” Chenle complained. 

“Perfect. That was the idea,” you said, turning around and staring at him challengingly. 

Sex with Chenle always started with a fight. At least that’s the way things have been since you two became official. You kept provoking each other until one of you would snap and pull the other into a kiss, which led to rough, angry sex. 

Today was no exception. The stunt you pulled at Doyoung’s wedding made him turn red with anger and jealousy. He didn’t want to ruin the event so he laughed it off in front of the others and gave your thigh a warning squeeze under the table. But once you were finally home he could release all that pent-up frustration by pounding into you relentlessly.

Now your hands were tied behind your back with his belt and your chest was pressed on the wooden surface of the same dressing table you were sitting at earlier. You both were still fully dressed; you with your tiny dress pulled up so the fabric rested wrinkled on your back and your panties had been moved to the side to allow the pleasurable intrusion. He was still wearing his half-unbuttoned shirt and his pants and underwear pooled on the floor around his legs. There had been no time to get undressed. When you both were this angry you needed each other fast and rough.

“That’s right, princess,” he grunted when he felt you tightening around him. “I’m the one who gets to take you home and fuck you this good.”

You wished you could scoff at his arrogance but he was fucking you good. 

“Right t-there!” you moaned instead, trying to communicate that he was hitting the perfect spot to have you cumming in seconds, but he already knew that. He knew your body very well. You were incredibly compatible in bed.

…If only you were compatible in other ways too.

“O-oh…,” your voice shook with pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop–”

“Bossy, aren’t we?” he teased, but he complied. And with a few more thrusts he had you coming with a loud moan. 

“Who do you belong to?” he asked when you were coming down from your high, admiring the multiple hickeys and love bites he had left on your neck and shoulders. 

You lifted your head with difficulty and locked eyes with him in the mirror. “I…,” you croaked weakly, “I belong to no one.”

Chenle pulled you by your hair making you hiss. 

“What did you say?” 

“I’m not fucking yours,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

A subtle smirk formed on Chenle’s lips. He pulled out of you, despite not having had his release yet, and forced you to sit back down on the chair. 

“We’ll see about that,” he said, casually walking away.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” you asked with a scoff, watching his movements in the mirror.

“Who said we were done?” he replied with another question, turning around to show you what he had gone to find in his nightstand drawer: a hitachi wand.

“Chenle,” you warned him, trying to give him an intimidating glare, but he either didn’t notice or he didn’t care, pulling a chair to sit right behind you, spreading his legs to fit you between them, and placing the vibrator dangerously close to your crotch. 

You locked eyes in the mirror.

“Anything you wanna say?” he asked with fake innocence. “Do you finally want to admit that you’re mine? Or do you maybe want to apologize for being a brat at the wedding?”

You defiantly clenched your jaw.

 He arched his eyebrow expectantly. 

You didn’t say a word.

So he turned on the toy and pressed it against your clothed cunt harshly. 

You gasped and quickly closed your thighs but you ended up trapping the vibrator between them and increasing the stimulation.

“Chenle!” you breathed out, squirming defenselessly with your arms still tied behind you while he held you against his chest with one of his arms around your waist. “You…Y-you asshole!”

“Who do you belong to?” he asked you again.

“No one!” you yelled.

“Wrong,” he countered, turning up the intensity. 

You don’t know how many times he made you cum like that. He kept going until your body was glistening with sweat, and your brain had turned into mush. Your spent body was leaning pliantly on his chest while he teasingly grazed the wand against your clothed clit.

He moved his hand from your waist to your chin, to make you look at his reflection in the mirror.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered looking into your dazed eyes, but your eyes rolled back as another orgasm hit you before you could respond.

Chenle chuckled. “You look so cute like this,” he murmured. “So docile. Now all you have to do is say you belong to me and you’ll be my perfect little princess.”

You let out a soft whimper, but that wasn’t the answer he wanted. It was cruel how he placed the wet toy on your abused pussy again and started moving it in circles. A silent scream escaped you, followed by pathetic sobs.

“My poor Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Let me help you. All you have to do is say ‘I’m yours’. C’mon, princess, say it.”

“I-I’m y–...haa,” you babbled incoherently.

“Almost there, Y/N, you’re doing so well,” he praised you without stopping his hand from tormenting you with the vibrator. “Say ‘I’m yours.’”

“I’m y-yours…,” you choked out.

“Louder,” he groaned, nibbling on your neck.

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, trembling because of a new orgasm approaching.

“Louder!”

“I’m yours, daddy–,” you cried, with a breathy, high-pitched moan, squirting all over the toy and his hand.

Chenle’s eyes widened and he dropped the hitachi wand in shock. Did you just call him daddy?!

He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and he slowly untangled his arms from your body to make three discoveries:

He had come untouched. A generous amount of sticky white liquid decorated the back of your wrinkled dress.

You were about to pass out, so he quickly untied your wrists and picked you up to take you to the bed.

He had marked you. Again. As soon as he gently lay you down he saw a fresh wound on your neck, barely an inch away from the one he gave you months ago.

He quickly went to grab a wet towel to clean you up with one hand, while holding his phone with the other to call Jaemin.

“Hello?” Answered Jaemin’s sleepy voice.

“I bit my mate,” Chenle blurted out anxiously.

“…Yeah,” the older wolf’s voice replied after a moment of silence. “That’s what we do…”

“I mean—I bit her again. I gave her another mark,” Chenle explained.

“Congratulations,” Jaemin yawned. 

“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Chenle asked nervously. Jaemin was a healer so he surely knew what to do in this case.

“Chenle, it’s fine. We only need to mark our mates once to bond them to us, but an extra bite or two is not unheard of.”

“…So it’s not dangerous?”

“It’s not,” Jaemin assured him. “Now, calm down and go to bed. It’s 3 AM.”

Chenle mumbled a ‘thank you’ and hung up the phone. 

He continued cleaning your body carefully. Then he changed your clothes into something more comfortable; one of the silky PJs that he had bought you and you refused to wear. Finally, he removed your makeup and applied some ointment on your sore wrists while you slept peacefully. 

Trying to not wake you up, he lay down on his side of the bed after taking a shower. He was about to fall asleep when he felt your body’s warmth closer to him and one of your arms hugged his waist.

“Y/N?” He whispered, but there was no reply. You were asleep. 

Chenle sighed and turned to his side to face you, gently accommodating you in his arms and caressing your hair. It wasn’t the first time that you got close to him in your sleep. 

He only wished you acted like this when you were awake too. 

A couple of days later you received an unexpected visit.

You were coming out of the shower when you heard the bell ring followed by distant voices. You assumed they were Chenle’s friends who you weren’t interested in meeting so you continued getting dressed and drying your hair nonchalantly until Chenle entered the room. 

“Can you come out when you’re ready?” He asked quietly.

“Why?” You asked back monotonously.

“Taeyong hyung and Doyoung hyung are here.”

Ah, yes. You remembered them; the one who’s about to be a dad and the one who just got married. 

“So?” 

“They said there’s something they need to discuss with both of us.”

You sighed. “Do they also want to tell me off because of what happened at the wedding? It was a harmless joke.”

“I don’t reckon they’re here to give you an award,” he deadpanned.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you shrugged, going back to applying lotion on your legs.

“Y/N,” he paused to take a deep breath in and exhale slowly, trying to avoid an argument in case his pack members heard. “Please,” he said through gritted teeth.

You sighed and muttered an annoyed ‘fine’, finishing your beauty routine while Chenle went to entertain the guests. You heard the sound of their animated talk and laughter, but it stopped abruptly when you came out of the room to join them.

Taeyong was the first to see you. His mouth opened in shock and his eyes widened. Right after, Doyoung looked your way and gasped. Finally, Chenle followed their eyes and understood what had caused such commotion: your tank top exposed all the recent marks Chenle had left on your body. From the purple and greenish bruises all over your neck and chest to your still reddened wrists. 

He quickly stood up and dragged you back to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?!” He whisper-shouted.

“You told me to join you,” you reminded him.

“When you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” You replied confusedly.

“I mean—,” he sighed defeatedly. “Can you cover up, please?”

“Cover up?” You scoffed.

“Unless you want to show off my marks.”

“As if,” you deadpanned.

“Then put on a proper shirt before you join us,” he said, leaving the bedroom to go back to his guests.

There was an awkward silence in the living room.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Chenle finally said.

“Looks like you mauled her,” Taeyong commented.

“She could easily convince the police you kidnapped her with those wrists,” Doyoung added.

“It was just…sex stuff,” Chenle quickly assured.

“Even the extra bite?” Doyoung asked skeptically. 

“Google says it happens sometimes,” Chenle defended himself with the knowledge he gathered from the internet. “Jaemin said so too.”

“If you’re feeling desperately possessive, yes,” Taeyong nodded slowly.

Before the younger could reply, you joined them again, this time wearing a t-shirt that covered you a little better. You sat down on the same sofa as your mate but in the opposite corner. 

“Hey,” Taeyong greeted you with a polite smile. “I don’t know if you remember us. I’m Taeyong and this is Doyoung. We’re Chenle’s pack brothers.”

“How’s it going, Y/N?” Doyoung asked, smiling too.

You thought about it for a second. Should you tell him you hated your life here and while Chenle googled if it was okay to bite his mate more than once you googled how to get rid of the mating bond? 

“All good,” you said instead.

“Is Chenle treating you well?” Taeyong asked this time.

“Of course I am,” Chenle scoffed.

“I’m asking her.”

You paused again. To be fair, he cared for you a lot. He was always making sure you ate and trying to remember the things you like to get them for you. The only problem was that your only form of communication was arguing or yelling at each other.

“Yeah, fine,” you shrugged.

Taeyong and Doyoung exchanged worried looks before Doyoung spoke up.

“Okay…don’t panic but this is an intervention.”

“A what?!” both you and Chenle shrieked.

“We know that the way your relationship started was…unusual,” Doyoung explained, choosing his words carefully. “But we were hoping you would be getting along by now.”

“And you’re not,” Taeyong declared. “It’s been months and you don’t seem to be able to stand each other.”

“Because we hate each other,” you agreed.

“No, we don’t,” Chenle contradicted you quickly. “We’re just going through a rough patch.”

“This entire relationship is a rough patch!” you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe if someone wasn’t so stubborn–”

“This is exactly what I mean,” Doyoung intervened. “Even if you imprinted on each other…maybe you two–...”

“Maybe you two shouldn’t be together,” Taeyong said with a sigh.

There was a dead silence in the room.

“That’s ridiculous,” Chenle murmured. “I imprinted on her.”

“I know,” Taeyong nodded with sad eyes. “But maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Chenle opened his mouth and closed it dumbly again. Taeyong, a hopeless romantic who firmly believed in imprinting and destiny, was telling him that you two were the exception. Your relationship was bad enough to make him question The Moon’s choice of mates.

“We’re already mated,” Chenle insisted. 

“There are ways to undo it.”

“Do you want me to suffer to death?” Chenle finally snapped. “You know damn well a wolf can’t survive for long if they part with their mate.”

“There are wolves who have never met their mate and they live a good life,” Taeyong informed him.

“But we already met!”

“That can also be undone.”

You, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke up. “...What do you mean?”

“It’s…uncommon,” Doyoung spoke cautiously. “Memory-erasing spells are against the law…But there are cases in which a partial memory block is allowed if taken to court–”

“What are you talking about?” Chenle growled, glaring at Doyoung like he had just insulted him.

“If you two forget you ever met, the bond will break easily and you two can go separate ways,” Doyoung explained.

“No,” Chenle shook his head stubbornly. “We’ll fix our problems ourselves.”

Taeyong sighed before turning to you and calling your name softly. “Y/N, what do you think?”

You stared at him blankly. You had been actively looking for ways to break the bond but losing all memories of Chenle was so…permanent. You looked at Doyoung, and then at Chenle, who was watching you intently.

“And then what?” you finally asked. “My crew left a while ago and I don’t know anyone here. What becomes of me once I forget the reason I’m here?”

“You could contact someone you trust—a friend or family member, and we can wait until they get here to take care of you before proceeding,” Taeyong said. “If you want to proceed, that is.”

You nodded absentmindedly, under Chenle’s incredulous eyes. 

“If this is something you both want to do, I’ll handle your case myself,” Doyoung assured you. “I know a few people that could speed this up a bit.”

“But,” Taeyong added, “you must understand that once it’s done there’s no way back.”

You nodded again. Chenle remained silent.

“Can I think about it?” you finally asked.

“Of course,” Taeyong said. “This is a very important decision, so please take as much time as you need.”

You thanked him. Chenle didn’t.

Even when they were finally gone, Chenle wouldn’t speak. It was only when you were lying in bed, your eyes closed as you tried to fall asleep that you heard his quiet voice from beside you.

“I can’t believe you’re considering it.”

You turned your head to the side and opened your eyes. He was staring at the ceiling.

“Is it really that surprising? All we do is fight,” you said.

When he didn’t reply for a whole minute you assumed the conversation was over and turned to lie on your side, staring at the wall.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him murmur after a while.

“I don’t actually hate you either…,” you replied, not daring to look at him. “I just say stuff sometimes.”

“Sometimes I can be…mean, too.”

You smiled bitterly. “Quite the pair we are, huh?”

“Could be worse.”

“Have you seen worse?” you asked, turning around again to look at him. He was already staring you back.

“...No,” he admitted.

You snorted and he laughed softly too.

“We suck,” he said lightheartedly like the situation was so bad all he could do was laugh.

“But at least I’m quite good at sucking,” you teased him.

“Can you not give me a hard-on right now?” he groaned. “We were having a moment.”

“Not my fault you’re not as good at sucking as me,” you shrugged.

His eyes lit up and you could distinguish the hint of a smirk on his face despite the dim light in the room.

“Yeah?” he breathed out.

Sex with Chenle always started with a fight. This was probably the only exception. Both of you playfully pleasuring each other with no aggression driving your actions was just new. But you definitely didn’t hate having your mouth on his cock while he had you sitting on his face. 

You swirled your tongue around the tip, determined to make him come first. He gasped and his hips chased your mouth, but when he heard you giggle he quickly focused back on his task of getting you off first. He licked long stripes up and down your pussy and you moaned around him. Now was his turn to chuckle.

“Having fun?” you breathed out, pulling him out of your mouth momentarily.

He hummed, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue playfully.

You let out a choked moan. Cheeky bastard.

But you weren’t going to lose. You quickly took him back in your mouth and deep-throated him as far as you could, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stretch. He moaned loudly, but soon retaliated, grabbing onto your ass cheeks and pulling you down forcefully towards his face.

Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, bobbing your head up and down. He was equally desperate, moving his head up and down, and then side to side to let his tongue stroke your cunt in all the right places. Soon you both lost control; you rode his face mindlessly, and he fucked into your mouth eagerly; both of you holding onto each other’s thighs and letting out lewd, wet, loud sounds until you saw white and were trembling with pleasure.

“F-fuck…,” he whispered when you both were lying side by side, trying to catch your breath.

“You didn’t have to go that hard,” you mumbled, still unable to stop your legs from twitching.

“You sucked the soul out of me,” he countered.

“I won by the way,” you said.

He quickly turned to look at you, frowning. “You did not. You came first.”

“Ha! You wish, pup. You came first.”

“You fucking liar!” 

…Sometimes, sex with Chenle also ended with a fight. And then your relationship would go back to being as unpleasant as usual.

Until it got worse.

“I talked to Yeosang,” you casually said one day, interrupting the awkward meal you were sharing.

“Who?” he asked, uninterested.

“Yeosang,” you repeated. “One of my crew members. My best friend.”

Chenle hummed. “The one who worked with you at the bar?”

“Yeah. He’ll be here in about three weeks.”

“He’s visiting?”

“Sort of,” you murmured. “Taeyong said it would be better for someone I trust to be near when we…you know…”

Chenle’s entire body tensed. He stared at you in surprise before his expression turned cold.

“We’re not doing that,” he said curtly. 

“Chenle–”

“I said no,” he declared going back to eating.

“I made up my mind,” you said.

“So did I.”

“I already told Taeyong.”

“Wha–” he choked on his own words, looking betrayed. “This is something that concerns both of us! You can’t– Damnit!”

“All we do is fight, hurt each other, and fuck, Chenle,” you sighed. 

“So you decided to forget it all?! Forget you ever met me?”

You blinked your tears away. You didn’t want to forget Chenle, but you also couldn’t continue in a relationship like this.

Chenle mistook your silence for an answer and decided to end the conversation by standing up abruptly and leaving the apartment. 

He came back at about 4 in the morning, trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t wake you up. 

He mumbled a dry sorry when you sat up in bed to watch him enter the room. 

“It’s fine,” you said tiredly. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were worried something had happened to him. “Come to bed.”

He wasn’t in the mood to fight anymore, so he obeyed. He took a quick shower and put on something more comfortable before sliding into bed with you.

“I won’t stop you,” he croaked. His voice sounded like he had been crying.

“Hm?”

“I’ll sign the documents,” he explained. “Jisung told me not to do it…but I’m exhausted,” he sighed defeatedly. “Do whatever you think will make you happier.”

“We’ll both be happier,” you corrected him. “Thank you,” you added softly.

He didn’t reply so you closed your eyes, ready to finally fall asleep when he spoke up again.

“Jaemin’s gonna be a dad,” he blurted out.

“Jaemin? The healer?” 

“Yeah…his mate’s pregnant. Well, she’s also Jeno’s mate, so maybe Jeno’s gonna be a dad. Not sure how that works. I think they’re both the dad…” he trailed off.

“They can’t both be the dad,” you said, frowning.

“Not biologically,” he shrugged, agreeing with you. “But they don’t seem to care about that.”

“Weird, but good for them, I guess,” you conceded.

“Taeyong hyung’s pup will be born soon too,” he rambled, and you swore you heard his voice crack. “I never cared much for kids, but–,” he paused.

You silently stared at him, noticing how he quickly wiped a tear away with his hand.

“I didn’t even know I wanted to be a dad…but when I met you I thought– I d-don’t know, I thought that maybe–” he broke down and sobbed, not being able to hide his sorrow anymore.

“Oh, Lele,” you called him the nickname that you rarely used, pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back tightly, crying into your chest loudly.

“W-why couldn’t we m-make it work?!” he lamented.

You kissed the top of his head, gently patting his back. “I’m sorry. You’ll have your own family one day, just–”

“Not with y-you?” he hiccuped. 

“Yeah,” you whispered sadly and your voice cracked too. “...I’m so sorry.”

You both cried yourselves to sleep holding onto each other like you were afraid one of you would be gone in the morning. Because it was going to happen soon anyway.

There were no more fights after that night. But the reason may be that you weren’t talking to each other much anymore. Now that a decision had been made, you were both feeling…empty. Just waiting for the separation day to come. 

It wasn’t until almost two weeks later that you fought again. 

Chenle entered the room to see you restlessly looking for something. His eyes followed you as you opened each drawer again and again until he finally dared ask what the problem was.

“My necklace,” you replied quickly.

“Which one?”

“My favorite one!”

“The one with seashells? You wore it yesterday,” he reminded you.

“I know, but now I can’t find it,” you said, opening the nightstand drawer.

“You already looked there–”

“It has to be somewhere!” you said, irritated, trying to think of places you hadn’t searched yet when a dark thought crossed your mind. “Chenle. Did you throw it away?”

Chenle, who had opened his nightstand drawer to help you look for the lost item halted. 

“...What?” he asked quietly.

“You said it covered your mark,” you accused him.

“You can’t be serious right now.”

“You hated how I always wore that one instead of the ones you gave me.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll throw your stuff away! What am I, a child?!” he asked, offended.

“Is this your way of getting revenge because I accepted Taeyong and Doyoung’s offer?” you insisted.

“Oh my god–I didn’t touch your ugly ass necklace!” he yelled exasperatedly. 

“THEN WHERE IS IT?!”

“I DON’T KNOW! It’s not my fault you don’t take care of your stuff!”

You took a deep breath in. “Chenle,” you spoke more calmly. “If you have it, just please give it back. I won’t be mad–”

“I said I don’t have it!” he exclaimed. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think of the person who forced me into a relationship with him?” you spat pettily.

His eyes widened but he looked down before you could catch the sadness in them. In silence, he dragged his feet to get out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.  

You huffed angrily and continued looking for your precious necklace until exhaustion took over you and it became obvious that it wasn’t in the room. The warm water of the shower helped calm you down, and as your thoughts became more coherent you regretted the way you had talked to Chenle. He may be an ass sometimes, but you knew it was unlikely that he would purposely do something that hurt you. So you decided to apologize to him as soon as he came back.

But he didn’t.

You lost count of how many times you practiced the apology in your head, but your mate didn’t show up for you to say them out loud.

It was way past midnight and it was raining heavily outside. You started to worry, so you called him, but the faint vibration coming from the living room guided you to his forgotten phone on the sofa.

Now you were straight out panicking. He was out there in this weather, probably not thinking clearly after your fight, and with no way to contact him. 

After a minute of hesitation, you grabbed a random hoodie and went to find him, but as soon as you opened the door you bumped face-to-face into him. His drenched clothes were sticking to his body and droplets of water slid down his face and neck. You noticed he was shivering slightly, but he took off his shoes and walked past you and into the bedroom without sparing you a glance before you could ask anything.

You only reacted when you heard the sound of the shower running. You walked into the bedroom too, nervously trying to remember the so-practiced apology to recite when he came out.

“Chenle I’m so–”

“The park,” he interrupted you curtly, again walking past you and sitting on the bed.

“What?” you mumbled, confused.

He pointed at your nightstand. “It was at the park.”

You looked at where he was pointed and saw your cherished necklace, completely wet but in perfect condition.

“Y-you…went to find my necklace?” you stuttered incredulously. 

He ignored your question, getting into bed and lying on his side, turning his back to you.

“In this weather?” you continued your interrogation, still getting no answer from him. “Chenle, that park is huge!”

Still no reply. 

You sighed, understanding that he was surely very hurt and needed some space. “Thanks…And sorry,” you whispered, getting into bed and accepting the silent treatment as a very deserved punishment as you tried to fall asleep.

But a couple of hours later you were woken up by a constant rowdy noise coming from Chenle’s side of the bed. As you slowly opened your eyes and got used to the darkness, you noticed that he was shivering. 

“Chenle?” you whispered, reaching for his shoulder and shaking him softly. “Chenle what’s wrong?”

He didn’t reply, nor did he stop trembling, so you sat up and turned the light on, taking a closer look at him. His face was flushed and covered in sweat, his body was also sweaty and trembling and you finally registered that the constant noise was his teeth chattering.

You muttered a curse under your breath and hurried to get a wet cloth, placing it on his forehead and pulling the covers off his body. He whined, annoyed at the sudden coldness hitting him but he remained pliant, letting you take care of him. Thankfully you had some leftover medicine from a nasty cold you had gotten during your first month together. Chenle had nagged at you back then but he made sure to nurse you back into health, and now it was your turn.

When the medicine kicked in and his temperature started going down, you were able to make him sit up so you could get him out of his wet pajamas and put on a pair of clean, dry boxers. He groaned and half-complained the entire time but he let you do as you wanted. 

He was kinda cute, with that faint blush on his cheeks and his lips forming a pout, while he mumbled incoherent words.

Not everything was incoherent though.

“I don’t want to forget…,” he whispered as you changed the wet cloth on his forehead. 

Your movements halted for a second before you continued nursing him until he drifted back into sleep. 

“I don’t want to forget you either,” you admitted. “I’ve questioned my decision many times in the last couple of weeks. I know we fight a lot but it’s not all bad…That night when you said you would sign the papers it felt like we were finally trying to understand each other and it got me thinking that if we opened up more often, maybe we could make it work…but then I ruined it again by accusing you of something you would never do. I’m so fucking sorry, Lele. I love you, I really do, but–” you paused when you noticed a faint smile forming on his lips.

“You’re not asleep,” you deadpanned. 

He chuckled and opened one eye to look at you. “Go on, keep talking.”

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” you rolled your eyes, about to stand up but his warm hand grasped your wrist.

“It’s the first time you've said it,” he said with a weak voice, but somehow sounding relieved. “That you love me.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah, well. Hard to find a good time to say it when we’re always yelling at each other.”

“I love you too,” he said, as his thumb caressed your wrist. “I love you so, so much.”

“That doesn’t mean you should spend hours in the rain looking for something I lost,” you reprimanded him, with a sigh. “You hate that necklace anyway.”

“But you like it,” he said like it was so simple.

 “Idiot,” you tried to sound like you were mad, but you didn’t look very intimidating with the tears that inevitably escaped your eyes. “You got sick because of me.”

“But now I got a sexy nurse taking care of me so I think I’m the real winner,” he joked, making you snort.

He sat up slowly, ignoring the cloth that fell off his forehead and his hands cupped your cheeks. “Sorry for worrying you,” he whispered.

“Sorry for blaming you,” you sniffled.

“Sorry for yelling at you.”

“Sorry for…the wedding thing. And all the other things I’ve done to embarrass you…”

“Sorry for forcing you to stay,” he finally said, looking into your eyes sincerely and with sorrow.

“Sorry for using you,” you sobbed, addressing your behavior before you became official.

His lower lip trembled and he pulled you into a hug. “Don’t forget me,” he begged. “Give us one more chance…”

You nodded, clinging to him and wetting his neck with your tears. “We can try.”

He slowly pulled away, holding you by your shoulders to look at your face. “Wait, really?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded again. 

Chenle was about to speak again when he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. His eyes went from your face to your body. “Is that my hoodie?” he asked.

Oh.

You had hastily put on whatever hoodie you found on top of your pajamas when you had tried to go out to find him, and then you had absentmindedly gone to bed without taking it off. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, blushing and trying to take it off.

“NO!”, he quickly said, grabbing your hands to stop you. “No, god–...keep it on…,” he murmured, wondering if he was dreaming. You had said you loved him, agreed to give the relationship another chance and you were wearing his clothes? This had to be the… “Best day of my fucking life.”

You blushed even more and tried to stutter an answer, but his lips were suddenly on yours, and, fuck it, nothing else mattered. His lips were hot and wet as he pressed them on yours for a slow but heated kiss that became nasty too fast. You were both so lost in the feeling that you didn’t have it in you to even feel embarrassed at the string of saliva that connected your mouth to his when he pulled away, looking dazed. 

In the blink of an eye, he was kissing your neck wantonly. That’s when you remembered that he was sick. 

“Lele, we can’t,” you tried to be firm but it came out as a moan. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” he assured you, weakly trying to pull your body closer but whining when his strength failed him.

“Lele,” you insisted. “When you feel better, okay?”

He groaned. “This will make me feel better. Please, you can’t wear my hoodie and not expect me to get super hard.”

You looked down and gulped. He was indeed hard and leaking through the thin material of his boxers. 

He once again tried to bring you closer but he was weak and agitated, but he felt like he could cry because of how badly he needed you. “Please,” he repeated.

You pushed him back so he was lying on his back again and he whined pathetically at what he thought was a rejection, but that whine turned into a shaky moan when you straddled him and sat on his crotch. A shiver ran down his spine and his cock twitched under you. He looked at you with wide expectant eyes, which rolled back in bliss when you rocked back and forth slowly.

“F-fuuuuck,” he sobbed, placing his hands on your thighs. “I love you, I love you–Oh!”

You bit back a whimper. You had never seen Chenle this needy and it was doing things to you.

“I love you too,” you replied and he moaned. Like it was the nastiest dirty talk he had ever heard.

“Wanna…b-be inside you…,” he whispered, looking desperate. “Please.”

You kissed him on the lips sweetly before getting off him to take off his boxers and your clothes. He let out a distressed sound when you tried to take off the hoodie once again and you understood that he wanted to fuck you while you wore his clothes.

You slowly lowered your body and felt him entering you, stretching you delightfully. He trembled and groaned, lying down pliantly, and letting you be in charge. The fever was making his body incredibly responsive to your every touch, everything felt too hot, and the fact that he also felt incredibly happy was making his cock jerk excitedly.

“Stop,” he suddenly gasped and you froze, thinking that this had been a bad idea after all, but he quickly explained what the problem was. “I’m so close I–...I d-don’t know why I’m so sensitive, but I…,” he gulped. “If you d-don’t stop I’ll…uh…inside–”

You bounced on his cock unexpectedly, making him release a broken moan. 

“Then do it,” you said. “Cum inside.”

His mouth dropped open and his stomach spasmed. He quite literally forced himself not to come at your words.

He had only come inside of you months ago when he mated and marked you. You had gone to get the morning-after pill right after and you had had quite a big argument about how it would be a terrible idea to have a child in your toxic relationship. His wolf instinct wasn’t happy about it, but he had agreed not to cum inside of you again and he had kept his promise, always pulling out before you two made the mistake of making an innocent baby miserable.

“Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Are you sure?”

You resumed your pace, fucking yourself on his cock slow but sensually, and making him tremble with pleasure.

“I’m sure,” you purred.

“Y-you…Mmh–ah…,” he moaned weakly, watching you fuck yourself on his cock with lidded eyes. “Could get p-pregnant–”

“Fill me up, daddy, please,” you moaned.

Chenle saw white. His eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open in a silent scream as he shot a gush of his seed into you…and then another, as the endless pleasure made him shake from head to toe and sob.

If he was sensitive before, now he was in heaven. The implications of your words were very clear: you were staying with him.

He breathed agitatedly as he tried to come down from his high, which seemed to never end. Weirdly so, he felt like the room was getting hotter and hotter, and he was still very hard.

Oh. Oh right. It was that time already.

“Y/N,” he called your name, with his voice still trembling.

“Yeah?” you asked, caressing his chest and looking at him lovingly, satisfied despite not reaching your orgasm.

“Y/N, my rut,” he breathed out.

“Your–,” you gasped when you finally noticed that he was still hard–maybe even harder– inside of you. “Now?!”

You don’t know how he suddenly gained all his strength back, but you didn’t have time to question it when he suddenly had you on your back with him hovering over you.

“Now,” he confirmed, giving you a hard thrust that made you both moan.

He built up a steady pace immediately. He had your permission to breed you so he was going to do just that. As many times as possible.

The sight of you on your back, wearing his clothes and opening your legs so willingly for him to fill you up, looking at him with so much love was driving him crazy. It felt so different this time. It would be different.

“I love you,” he moaned urgently.

“I…uh, lo-ah, ah!” you tried to say between his sharp thrusts. “Love…y-you–ah, ah–Ah!”

“My p-pretty princess,” he murmured, mesmerized. He squeezed your clothed breasts, your waist, your soft thighs. “Want daddy to breed you?”

“Y-yeah,” you moaned, pulling the hoodie up a little, only enough to show him how deep he was hitting. “Daddy, here–”

A choked moan left his lips when he saw the outline of his cock appear and disappear in your belly. 

“Of course, princess. Daddy will fill you up right…” he murmured, pulling out until only the tip was inside and grabbing onto your hips before he rammed into you harder than ever before. “...here.”

You tossed and turned aimlessly under him when he started pounding mercilessly. He fucked you desperately but somehow you felt so adored under his loving eyes.

Feeling your climax approach, you used one of your hands to reach for your clit, but he was faster than you.

“No, no, no, princess,” he cooed gently pushing your hand away to do it himself. “That’s daddy’s toy, okay?” 

You nodded dumbly and whined when he stroked you fast from the get-go. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you ended up groping your chest clumsily, adding to the already unbearable pleasure. 

“Mmm,” he hummed in delight feeling a stronger release about to hit as he watched you being so fucked out because of him. “You love this,” he declared, amusedly. “You love me…”

You suddenly tensed and your back arched, hit by a mind-blowing orgasm that had you squirming helplessly. “Oooh….oh, fuck fuck fuck—daddy…daddy, I love y-you—”

He groaned at the way you tightened around his already sensitive cock. His movements became even more relentless as he fucked you further into madness. “Daddy loves you t-too, princess…,” he spoke hurriedly. “Loves you s-so much–gonna….gonna pump you full–Haa…so full o-of pups,” he continued reciting delirious promises as his knot started forming, catching inside of you. “Shit– Y/N…y-you’re my mate, y-yeah? You’re staying…Mmmh oh, oh yeeess… you’re staying with me, right?”

“I’m–,” you gulped, dazed, still pleasure drunk. “I’m stay…staying w-with you…”

Chenle’s chest filled with pride and adoration. He was going to be the best mate for you. You would be so happy together.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and he bit you, again, before he could stop himself. But this mark was different. It felt real. 

Because you loved him back.

You whined at the pleasurable pain of his fangs piercing your skin, and his cock pumping you full of his cum at the same time. His body spasmed for each gush of cum that jerked out of him, but even the overwhelming pleasure didn’t stop him from whispering the sweetest promises.

Sex with Chenle usually started with a fight. But sometimes it could start–and end–with a love confession.

[radabeast]

Why Aren't The Hornsent NPCs Named? An Essay On The Challenge for Compassion

So easy answer. Neither our pal in the Miquella Brigade nor the Grandam actually tell their names to us. Case closed!

No no no but more like, why didn't the DEVELOPERS choose to let us know them by name? A whole chunk of The Point is that the hornsent are people too, right? So why would we not even get to know our two (mostly just one, even, as you're not likely to even find grandam) hornsent ambassadors' actual names?

Fromsoft did something similar to this in Armored Core 6 just recently. That game is PLAINLY all about the horrors of capitalism, colonization and war, albeit almost all of your time is spent not with the resistance, but with the companies trying to tear the planet apart for fuel. Your protag's motivations aside, the RLF, Rubicon Liberation Front, are hardly given any narrative ambassadors to you at all; your Rubiconian partner pleads with your on some occasions, but otherwise the emphasis is elsewhere. Their liaison with their organization isn't even named. You don't even get to MEET most of their ranks until the secret third route, and even then, half the time that's just when you're fighting against said individuals as opponents. So...

Fromsoft is unique in that they often don't spoon-feed you "this is right" and "this is wrong". By no means do they ever seem to say colonization and slaughter is correct, and in fact the very crux of the plot is in grappling with the justifications. BUT, you are placed directly in the role of the oppressors' side. All around you are people you will grow to respect, and fight alongside, and they will also help you tear down this planet if you choose that route. You do, very much so, have to FIGHT and CHOOSE to aid the people of Rubicon, even if it hurts. Even if it means fighting, abandoning and even killing the people who have been by your side. And I think that's much more realistic to many real-life experiences than just "starting out on the right side".

Back to Elden RIng and the hornsent, though. Grandam is found only under very specific circumstances, within a single location, and within a small time window of the game. You step out of that window? You lose her completely, including the lore she had, and the means with which to understand better the hornsent. Why? Why would Fromsoft even implement her, if it's that hard to even reach her words?

And again, I think it's... realistic. You, the Tarnished, are a human along Marika's progeny, barring your own personal character lore. You are a human and you are part of the race that had slaughtered the hornsent. Of COURSE the hornsent themselves aren't going to trust you, spoonfeed you WHY you should care about them. Shouldn't you care already about the pain and suffering of others? Why WOULDN'T you? If it's that hard to come to grips with the horrors Your Kind caused, then maybe you're no better.

And I think. The story wants to challenge you like that, past gameplay, past feeding you their intent directly. You have to SEEK OUT the answers and THINK. Is it truly justified to slaughter a whole race? Was this truly right? Should I think of these individuals as people, or as monsters?

Hornsent (NPC) is also a very interesting choice. Not only is he the only hornsent you're actually likely to find and speak with, but he actively hates your guts. Soon as the charm is off, even, he's back on his path of vengeance. He says time and time again, he's nothing more than this mission to Get Back on those responsible. Wouldn't the devs want to make you weep for someone far more pitiable, far more palatable?

Well, if you bother paying attention to him enough, and aid the man in his questline, you'll understand then that he's someone who lost his whole family to Messmer's crusades. Mother, wife, child, in addition of course to the innumerable others slaughtered. Is that not enough to want all-consuming vengeance? Wouldn't YOU want people dead because of that? Regardless, even, of whether or not he was even a perpetrator of the original jar slaughters (and I've seen enough feasible evidence against that)... Is he not pitiable enough for that alone?

To you, he is just a Hornsent. To he himself, the man is a Hornsent, likely a title he wears both in defiance, as well as the only scrap of identity he has left. His people were killed because they were Hornsent. His family was killed because they were Hornsent. Would you even ever see him as anything else? Would it matter, even, if he HIMSELF has nothing else?

And, clearly, if you've been seeing anything anywhere in the fan discussions: this challenge to Think is lost on many people. Some people, somewhat understandably, take these aspects as Fromsoft caring little about the hornsent at all, and claiming them as The Original Evils within their own story. Others don't even bother to take anything not fed to them, and claim that the slaughter of hornsent was duly justified, and that this is undeniably supported within the game. But even barring the consistent themes of dichotomies, dualities, and the cycles of abuse ever-present throughout the game-- yeah, I'd say a good deal of reflection could and should be found in the self, first. Who are YOU when challenged for this compassion, first?

[theaawalker]

A Run For Your Money [Eric x Reader]

Pairing: Eric x gender-neutral!reader Song Inspo: One Dance by Drake ft. Justin Bieber Word Count: 2,004 Summary: A new Dauntless initiate, y/n, captures Eric's attention. As trouble follows you, Eric is always nearby with a keen smirk. But you won't go down without a fight, promising to give the brutal faction AND instructor a run for their money. Warnings: violence, fighting, mentions of death Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Bam! Bam-bam, bam!

You are by yourself in the initiate training room beating on a punching bag. Today is one the rare days off that initiates get, and you chose to spend your time training. You made up your mind to transfer to this faction, so you did't intend to ease up on your pursuit until you make the cut. It seems that a group of female initiates were attracted by the punching sounds and have come to investigate. After seeing you, one of them attempts to show you how it's done.

Jace is bigger than her friends; one would assume that she was Dauntless born had the classes not been separated. She picks you up and throws you to the side, ready to set an example. You come back, jump and hock a leg around her neck, flipping her on her back to the ground. You land in a crouch, "Come on dude, don't be an asshole."

It's obvious that she nor her friends expected you to take her down. They thought that you would be intimidated like most of the other initiates, but Jace didn't hold her surprise for long.

"Well, that was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome." She pushes off the floor and hops to her feet. You rise up with her as they meet for a handshake.

"Jace, Candor."

"Y/N." You turn away from her to go drink from your water bottle. Jace watches you for a moment.

"Which faction are you from, Y/N?" She asks. You blink and drink from your bottle before setting it back down.

"That's not important." You say. Jace isn't satisfied with your answer and is about to ask you another question.

"I couldn't agree more." The girls stiffen and jerk around to face Eric, posted up like a soldier with a sadistic glare in his eyes. "Do any of you want to explain to me why you're not downstairs?" His voice is menacing and full of authority. Jace and her friends look at each other confused. One of them tries to respond, but she's a stuttering mess.

"Bu-but w-w-we uh, I thought um.. I mean, we uh-."

Eric, having heard enough, cuts her off, "Got it. I'll give you a chance to make it down there, and you'd better make it before I get back down there." The girls scramble past him and rush down the stairs. You hadn't moved, choosing to remain silent until they had gone.

"Isn't today our day off?" You look at Eric expectantly. You aren't surprised when he starts grinning at you.

"Correct." He's walking towards you while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then why did you scare them away?" He smirks at the question and sets his jacket down near your water bottle.

"I'll be your sparring partner for today." You blink slowly.

"Alright."

2 hours later, you and Eric are both sweaty on the mats, breathing heavily as you stretch together.

"Thanks for the workout." Eric was impressed with you, and he's looking forward to welcoming you into Dauntless.

"No problem, I really enjoyed it. Thank you." You didn't expect the offer, but you appreciated it. Eric isn't known to associate with initiates outside of making sure Four is training them properly. So, while surprised that he wanted to spar, you weren't going to say no.

He nodded his head at you, grabbed his jacket and walked away. You watched him leave, strutting out of the training room with such confidence. He didn't even look like someone who'd been in a fight. You honestly feel inspired. One day, you're going to really give him a run for his money.

[ time skip - visitng day ]

When visiting day rolls around, Eric doesn't see his source of amusement. He wanders into the training room to see you finishing a set of pull ups. He stands in the entry way watching you come down to stretch. You bend down to the front, holds it, and then bend back into a back-bend.

You see him but don't say anything. You don't know how long he's been standing there watching, but since he didn't say anything neither will you. You take a few minutes to quickly stretch your body before picking up your water bottle and walking away. You almost makes it past him, but he stretches out an arm to stop you.

"Not so fast." You aren't looking at him, but he's looking at you. "Why aren't you down there with everyone else?"

"There's no one down there for me." You walk around him, and he lets you go. He sees that you're upset, but it isn't his place to comment on it.

[ time skip - next day ]

Early the next morning, Eric comes across you doing laps around the training room. You pause at seeing him there.

"You want to run?" You nod, your chest heaving with your breathing. "Come with me." You look around, unsure if you should follow him.

"I have training in an hour." He smirks at you.

"I'll make sure you're back in time." You nod again and follow him.

They run to a cliff spot with a full view of the sunrise. You hadn't watched the sunrise since being in Dauntless; you missed it. You wonder if this could be a regular thing for you again.

"Ready to head back?" You nod. "Can I come here every morning?" He regards you for a moment before replying.

"If you remember the way."

They jog back together and make it just in time for Four's class. You head over to join the other initiates lined up. Eric walks past them, ignoring Four completely as he heads to take a shower.

The next morning, you're running back to the Dauntless compound, coming back from your sunrise viewing. You're definitely going to make it part of your routine to run there in the mornings. Halfway back to the compound, you see Eric running toward you. You pass each other, making eye contact but not exchanging words or stopping.

[ time skip ]

Despite their rocky start, you and Jace form a competitive friendship. You're often seen sparring with one another, or with Jace's friends. With individual training, you two are always trying to out-do the other. Friendly competition became a great way for the both of you to become and maintain high ranks among the initiates.

Lately, Four has the group randomly paired every day for mock fights in the ring. Somehow, you always get paired with one of Jace's friends. You haven't lost a fight yet thanks to all the practice you had with Jace. The friend, Byron, was the biggest initiate of the class, so taking down anyone else was easier for you. Bruised, blustered, and bloodied, you managed to beat him. Even Four was impressed, with Eric nodding and smirking like he predicted your victory. Byron seemed pissed as he limped back to his spot. The fact of Jace teasing him didn't make it any better. Perhaps that was the catalyst that led to this unfortunate event.

[ time skip - that night ]

You were already in bed while everyone else was at dinner. You're an early riser which also means you're an early sleeper. That particular day had tired you out more than usual, so you slept heavy enough for someone to pick you up, cradle-style, and carry you away.

The culprits? Three men disguised in all black and ski masks who tried to dump you over the chasm.

One of the Dauntless members on the cameras sees them. He's in the camera room watching them almost drop you over until you wake up suddenly. Kicking and punching, you swing around on the railing to kick one of your attackers in the head. He hits the back wall and falls unconscious. One of them somehow is shoved over chasm railing, while you punch the other one in the throat and head until they fall. You snatch off the masks of the remaining two, and your face crumbles. Hurt and betrayed to see two of Jace's friends. You recognize Byron, and knee on the other one's dick. He tries to cover himself, but you kick his head, hammering down on it with both feet. As a floored Byron and his accomplices groan, you spit on him as a final assault before you stagger up and stalk off.

Four and Eric coincidentally show up in the camera room while this fight was taking place. Four notices that particular camera feed as he glances around the room when he first walks in. He immediately zeroed in on it, coming closer as he sees the victim, who he recognized as you, wake up and fight off their assailants. Four flips out, snapping at the guy sitting in front of him for not reporting this.

Eric, at seeing Four agitated, walks over behind him to see you in action. He finds it humorous, not caring at all about the sorry excuse for an initiate that fell over. Lucky him that he died before Eric could get to him. Those other two would pay dearly for what they just attempted, then maybe after he's done with them will he allow them to die.

Four tries to go to the chasm, but Eric tells him to take care of the guy in front of him first. "It's over now; I'll take care of them."

Eric tells the swarming Dauntless members to get those two initiates in a holding room until he gets there. Eric left the room in search of you, but he couldn't find you. Unbeknownst to him, he passed your hiding spot -- a hallway vent -- several times, but you didn't want to reach out to him. You saw a mix of other Dauntless members and initiates milling around, and you didn't trust them. So, instead, you tucked yourself deeper into your hiding hole and slept.

[ time skip - the next morning ]

You return to your bunk after you've calmed down. Jace tries to approach you, but you flinch away from her. Who's to say she didn't orchestrate the attack? Shortly after, Four, with Eric right on his heels, sped into the room. He's relieved to find you there, and he asks if you could come with them.

You're called to a meeting with the Dauntless leaders, the parents of the dead boy, and for some reason, Jeanine Matthews. The child's mother accused you of killing her son.

"Your son tried to kill me." His mother vehemently denied it, until she's shown the video feed. Then, she flips her argument.

"But you're not dead, now are you?" You, done with the conversation already, looks over at her.

"Let me guess, you'd rather I be dead."

"Yes!"

"Tough." You turn your head, dismissing her.

Eric is full-on grinning as the mother is short circuiting. Jeanine, ever observant of Eric and his mannerisms, notices Eric's interest in you. Thus, Jeanine also takes an interest in you. Reviewing in her mind the initiate's combat skills, she shifts her eyes over to you, who is busy staring out of the window. You could be another Eric, a great soldier to carry out her plans.

After much debate, mainly from the parents' end, you are dismissed. Due to the video evidence of the boy being involved with trying to kill you, and that he was actually bumped over by one of the boys, you are exempt from any punishment.

After the meeting, Jeanine pulls Eric to the side. He instead takes her to his office to hear what she has to say. She asks Eric what he thinks of you, to which Eric responds with a mediocre answer. He doesn't want you involved in this, but it seems his tactic isn't working. Jeanine doesn't buy it after seeing the video, and she gives Eric instructions to introduce you to the plans and get you working under him. After, she excuses herself and leaves him alone to his thoughts.

After lunch, Four escorts you to Eric's office. Four warns him not to be mean to you, and Eric tells him to get the fuck out of his office. During your meeting with Eric, he tells you the rundown of what's going to happen after you've passed your initiation. He doesn't go into too much detail, in case you have too much of an adverse reaction.

After he's done explaining, you're blunt with him, "That's stupid." Eric looks at you, but you keep your eyes on his computer and continues, "It doesn't make sense. She wants to kill people to keep the peace. And these serums, it sounds like some mind control scheme."

You look at Eric. He sees that you're smart enough to pick up on what he didn't say.

"You don't believe her, right?" You ask him. "You know that she wants to make everyone, except a select few, into mindless slaves that do whatever she wants while she rules over everything. You know that she wants a dictatorship and not peace, right?"

You pause for a moment to hone in on his unfazed expression. "Or maybe you do know, but you don't care." You look at him for a few more moments before leaning up and looking away, taking a stroll around his office.

He contemplates life while you busy yourself with looking around his office. How didn't he think about what life would be like with everyone under her new serum? He thought that he'd be done with Jeanine, and he could do whatever he wanted with Dauntless. He didn't care about the other factions. He really doesn't care about the people, but there's not much enjoyment in bossing around mindless slaves who are programmed to do what they're told anyway. How weird it would be to walk down the halls and pass people that aren't really there. Yes, there'd be no more people to piss him off, but there'd be no idiot to amuse him either. No one to hold a conversation with; no one to ignore for being stupid; and no one to threaten and watch them cower.

At that moment, he realizes that he would be bored and alone with not a soul for company other than Jeanine and her lackeys. He grimaces at the thought and sees how unpleasant it would be. He feels ignorant for not seeing the whole picture and not thinking ahead. He's going to rectify that.

[ time skip ]

It took Eric a few weeks to get together his evidence of Jeanine's crimes and organize a trial in Candor. It was unavoidable for some of his skeletons to be exposed, but fortunately, they were overlooked in light of him turning Jeanine in. She was found guilt and set to be executed, which was done by Eric himself immediately after the sentencing.

You passed your initiation ranked #1, with Jace pulling up #2. It took you a while to feel comfortable around her again, but ultimately, it wasn't her who hurt you. Thus, it wasn't fair for you to shut her out. Plus, she physically defended you whenever one of the guys got too aggressive with you, which was a nice plus.

You were also set to start your job working under Eric. The paperwork had already been approved by the time Jeanine's plans were foiled. Also, Eric had taken to courting you. Speaking to you more and spending time with you. He wouldn't date you until after you passed initiation, but now that you had, you and Eric have been together for about 3 weeks now. He was currently taking you to meet his parents for dinner.

Five minutes in, and you were not having a good time. Still, at least there was free food. Eric's mother, Blythe, addressing you, asks yet another insulting question. "So, how long have you been sleeping with my son?"

"Blythe!" Eric and his father shout her name, but you ignore her.

"Not going to answer?"

"No, I don't see how that's any of your business."

Taken aback, Blythe seethes before responding. "My son is my business."

"Yea, you're such a great parent, so supportive of your son's choices." You hear her gasp as you sip your water, not giving her the attention.

"How dare you-"

"That's enough," Eric hisses at her. He's pleased that you're not intimidated by his mother, but he doesn't like her being insulted.

"Are you going to eat that?" Eric asks you, eyeing your plate. You cut the steak and broccoli on his plate and fork it before turning to offer it to him. You have your other hand underneath in case anything falls from the fork. He eyes you again and you blink at him expectantly. He leans in, his eyes boring into yours as he eats off your fork. You turn back to spear more food onto the fork before turning to repeat your actions.

"I can eat my own food." He says while leaning in.

"Then why didn't you?"

As the night goes on, you two pay no mind to his parents. Even though Eric's father seems to genuinely support him, you don't see any sort of relationship blossoming with him or his wife. Yet, judging by Eric's reaction to Blythe, you won't have to worry about pleasing her. Sweet.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

If you enjoyed this imagine :

follow me 🫂 like 👍 comment 🗨 repost 🔄

If you have an imagine request :

ask❓️AND tip 🪙

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

disclaimer: it's my first fanfiction written in english.

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

 One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy. 

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?” 

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players. 

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose. 

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee. 

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words. 

“ Always at your service”  he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday… 

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you? 

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state. 

“Not today” He replied shortly. 

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence. 

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him. 

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount. 

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…” 

 "Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly. 

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

 "But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts. 

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that” 

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it. 

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared? 

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what” 

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic. 

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?” 

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

 It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

 "Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days —  in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

 "Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you. 

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea. 

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you —  maybe they weren't into that anymore?

 Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars. 

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car. 

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids. 

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her —  you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids. 

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

 You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

[ghostieblr]

Secret Life of Stiles & Derek

IT IS FINALLY HERE! Inspired from this post of mine (of which i posted a sneak peak here)... now i bring to you, the FULL FIC ON A03.

Thank y'all for showing interest in it <3

Here is a little bit of sneak peak:

*

He settles beside Cora, stretches there so his legs open to create space for Stiles. Stiles, who doesn’t even glance at Scott calling his name, too busy in arranging the snacks, and then finding the remote. Derek waves it once, and Stiles beelines for it.

“I want it! I get to choose the film, ok Sourwolf, because I called this pack night!” As he says it, he’s moving forward, and it makes Derek’s heart soar that there’s no second thought before he plops himself down between the V of his legs. Derek hands over the remote.

And of course Stiles puts on Star Wars, Episode III.

“Why.”

“Inflection, Der, use them. They’re the souls—”

“—Souls of language. Yes, I know, Stiles. But I love to—”

“—love to fight against period, commas and question marks because I love to see you squirm.” Stiles recites perfectly, thanks to the number of times they’ve had this argument, and then corrects himself, “I mean, you love to see me squirm, you asshole!”

Somewhere distantly, he hears Scott mutter, “Yeah he is. Come here Stiles.”

Derek puts his free hand around Stiles’ waist and pulls him backwards into his chest, and Stiles lets him do it. He settles firmly in Derek’s lap, like this is the easiest thing to do. It makes Derek happy.

“Now shush, let me watch the credits in peace!”

Derek takes the remote and fast-forwards it.

“Nephew…”

“You’re an idiot,” Cora tacks on to their uncle's reprimand, and then, “Why do you never learn?”

Stiles simply takes the popcorn bowl from his hand and puts it in Cora’s hands. She swats away Boyd’s hands from taking any of it, and then sighs loudly as Derek and Stiles devolve into a wrestling, writhing mass of degenerates beside her.

Stiles emerges victorious and wins the remote, so Derek pulls him in by his hips and wraps his arms around his chest. Puts his head on Stiles’ right shoulder and groans when he rewinds the film back to the starting point.

“Idiot,” Cora mutters, and hands back the bowl of popcorn to Derek. He isn’t really sorry about it, though. And both Cora and Peter know it, so they send him knowing looks which he steadfastly ignores.

The movie begins again. Stiles cuddles closer to him, Derek’s hands on his chest, his hips. Enclosing him in. He turns his head, and their faces are so, so close. Their noses touch. Their eyes are cross-eyed they’re so infuriatingly, blessingly close. Stiles says, “Der.”

He pulls back and picks up a handful of the popcorn, more salty ones than tomato flavored ones — they’re more his favorite, not Stiles’ — from where he’d kept the bowl between him and Cora, and feeds Stiles one by one.

Once the handful of popcorn has been eaten, Stiles turns back, and Derek picks up his own handful. A couple minutes pass by, the world on the screen the only noise, but then Stiles turns around again. He doesn’t say anything, but Derek understands anyways and feeds Stiles. It makes him satisfied in a way he’s both thrilled and concerned about, which basically sums up his life. But in this moment he focuses on Stiles, and the intimacy of their trust, the way Stiles allows him to provide for him. The way Stiles trusts him with these small things, and when it matters, with the big things. Like Stiles’ life.

This time, a murmur kick starts between the betas. Mainly Isaac and Erica, who are trying to tamp down their curiosity but are unable to do so. Boyd isn’t into the gossip, but Derek sees him watching them a couple of times.

On the other hand, he can smell Scott silently fuming, and Allison’s gentle scraping along his scalp, his arms. Trying to control him. Anchoring him. Derek smirks, unable to help the way his chest expands with possessive pride.

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, without turning. His eyes are locked onto the screen.

“Nothing. Just the popcorn’s almost over.” It is. They’re down to two handfuls each.

Stiles pauses the film, never one to miss even a second of it, and scans the coffee table. It’s still full with food. He frowns. “Nobody is eating?”

Nobody is replying, either. Stiles stands up and hovers beside the table, looks at Derek helplessly. He’d brought everyone’s favorite and some extra — he’d planned this down to every last detail. Except, of course, realizing that they don’t know about his and Derek’s history, or their current friendship.

*

You can continue reading it here on AO3.

Tagging the people who wanted me to tag 'em once i posted this fic:

@demonicfaery @lovehahajk @emilyinhouston @jadezdominion @sterekloverforever @hogwarts-starship @deliahale @princecharmingwinks

[sarabethsilver]

One thing that frustrates me about Gilmore Girls is the way Jess is written between S2 and S3. Or more accurately, how other characters' reactions to him are written.

S2 Jess causes trouble, there's no way around that. But the townsfolk are way too hard on him, and the show is VERY clear about that. We're meant to see Taylor as hysterically overreacting about Jess. We're meant to see the Town Meeting about evicting him as a bad thing. We're meant to feel badly that the town blames him for the car accident. We're meant to think that Lorelai was completely unreasonable in that situation. Jess has FLAWS, sure. Even Rory and Luke, arguably the only two people who give Jess a chance, are pretty clear in sharing their thoughts when he's made a mistake. But Rory and Luke are not wrong when they speak about Jess' strengths and potential. And S2 wants me to know that!

But in S3? Suddenly the message seems to be that Jess was bad all along. Which is especially weird because S3 Jess doesn't really cause trouble. Instead, his minor mistakes in his relationship with Rory are blown up into catastrophes. Rory is SAD. She hates who she is with Jess (which is apparently Jess' fault, and has nothing to do with her own lack of communication skills). Rory stops defending Jess. She regrets ending things with Dean, and ultimately describes choosing Jess as a mistake. Jess flunks out of school, and it's presented like it was 100% his dumb fault. Jess then falls apart at Kyle's party, and it's presented like the obvious and unavoidable conclusion to his arc. (Dean? The guy who STARTED the fight? Is portrayed as justified, even honorable.) Luke steals Jess' car and kicks him out, and the show is utterly committed to portraying this as a necessary step in Jess' growth. Luke questions himself about that choice for exactly one second... and he's IMMEDIATELY assured that he did nothing wrong. A message the show sticks with, by the way, for the rest of the series. Luke HAD to kick Jess out. It was NECESSARY. Jess needed to HIT ROCK BOTTOM.

It just feels like a missed opportunity. S2 was such a fun exploration of the faulty judgments and assumptions adults can make about teenagers. The show highlighted the unfair pressure adults put on Jess AND Rory. We were exploring the idea of "good" kids and "bad" kids, and how both types of assumptions are reductive and harmful. Great stuff, and a big reason why S2 is my favorite season.

But then S3 rushes to "correct" that notion by emphatically concluding that Jess is BAD and Rory is GOOD and the adults were right all along. And Jess doesn't become good until much later. After he's "learned his lesson" by getting kicked out, thoroughly chastised, and silenced into the "right" kind of good behavior.

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael proves that he needs help

Angst, Gore (?)

A/n: So, Originally the chapter was longer. But it was wayyyy too long, so I choose to split it.

La Vaguelette

Chapter 8 > Chapter 9 < Chapter 10

Leonardo was reading peaceful one of his science books. One of many he owns in heaven.

He loves these kinds of pieces like electric, Atomic and the other things that the human created with his little help. 

Even though sometimes it ended in war or weapon, which was kind of disappointing for Leonardo. Why would they create something to just destroy themselves?

He stopped reading as he felt the sudden familiar power of an opening a portal. 

He looked above his book trying to catch what was disturbing his peace. 

Leonardo watched as Michael came through a portal and carried you in his arms. 

Of course it is Michael.

“The Seraphim?” Leonardo asked his smaller brother as he raised his finger towards his face to adjust his glasses. 

Michael looked over at Leonardo, and cursed.

oh he is so fucked. 

Leonardo was the responsible one.

Always listening to what father has to say and always do his job 100% correct.

Mostly he keeps heaven in control so nothing gets out of hand.

It was till they created Sera, and now he's thinking about getting his old responsibility back.

Sera couldn't be trusted anymore. She had one job and Michael did it for her.

Bring the seraphim back.

“What?! Nooo that’s just an exorcist who needed help-“ 

“What is she doing here?” Leonardo stated clear. He is not in the mood to play with Michaels dumb little games.

“Just doing my job.” Michael said, his emotionless eyes looking at Leonardo. 

Leonardo sighed laying his book aside. “He said not to hurt her,” He looked down at your broken legs and hands. “And you obviously did.” His golden eyes burned into Michael’s soul, making him shudder. 

“Calm down brother! You really think she’ll come without a fight? You’re too naïve.” Michael laughed nervously.

“I could’ve done it better.” Leonardo said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Maybe even Sera." An cold wind blow freezed the tips of Leonardo's Black hair.

Michael was not pleased with the comparison with Sera.

Michael stepped forward his icy blue eyes bored into Leonardo golden one. “I will handle it.” 

…

Michael pulled you along with him. Not caring that you got a cut added every time you slammed against a rock, that laid on the floor. 

You were in a place in heaven that looked identical to hell, maybe even worse. 

The floor was worn out and every surface was uneven and had holes. 

A place that was hidden before bare eyes.

A prison or worst a torture chamber.

Creatures were behind those bars and are more terrifying than anything in Hell. 

Except maybe root.

It was Michael playhouse, his palace. 

The place where he can live his sadistic and psychopathic ways fully. 

And everything else is his Hunting ground. 

Making people disappear out of nothing and bringing them in the depths of this lovely place.

Someone who lands in here never goes back, not at least in the form how they came. 

They get completely mangled and stitched together like in the worst horror movie. 

You are Michael's new subject that he got in his claws.

The one he’ll break and re-build.

You’ll be the one who’ll destroy her loving partner.

His perfect subject.

How is he still in Heaven you ask? 

One of daddy’s Favorite. 

He threw you into an empty dark room and you hit your head hard against the dirty cell wall. 

Blood started oozing out of the fresh wound, but no reaction. 

The pain is nothing compared to the old wounds. 

It was just a little pinch. 

The hole in your thigh pulsated harshly reminding you of its very existence.

You squinted your eyes open, only to realize that you were hanging high above from the ground. 

You tried to move but the chains on your wrist held you in place. 

It hurts. 

The chains scratched your wrist open in a slow pace. Your broken hand was pressed firmly against the chain. It feels like your hands are getting ripped apart from your Arm.

It hurts so bad.

You wanted to scream but you can’t, his ice was still on your lips making you shiver from the cold.

Lucifer help

Legs were unmoving and you got in a panic like state. 

You can’t move an inch. 

Please Lucifer it hurts

You’re a damsel in need and Michael could you whatever he wants with you. 

And right now, he was watching you suffer. 

He probably got an erection seeing you hanging there with the broken limps He caused. 

“So, you’re awake?”

He sat down on a chair that stood in front of your cell, your new home. “Choosing not to talk, huh?” He chuckled when the sound of moving chains echoed through the dark hollow walls. 

The magic this place once held, was completely sucked out by Michael's evil thoughts.

“If you think that is the worst it can get, I must disappoint you.” A monstress scream and a slashing sound of a whip was what caught your attention.

It is unbearable.

The sounds of Angels that were getting ripped apart and sewed together to create some of Michaels weird obsession.

And you may wonder how Michael ended this way. He used to be a happy Man, and now he is a cold hearted psychopath.

And echo in those walls gave you the answer. A small whisper in the last bits of magic the Playhouse had.

It gave you the answer to this question.

He wants to create, just like his twin brother Lucifer. 

But he can’t.

So, he took this place to make creatures for heavens protection. But these creation never worked. They were brainless and brutal monsters.

Killing everything that was near them.

And he fell deeper into despair.

He never could be Lucifer and it was pissing him off.

He wasn't as creative as Lucifer. He never could be.

Lucifer was God’s favorite.

So, Michael sabotaged him.

Making Lucifer fall for Lilith and letting the forbidden Apple into Lucifers grasps.

It was Michael's duty to protect. But he didn't protect the Apple, no. You could say he gave it to him like a wrapped up gift.

Lastly Michael gave father the Idea to create Hell.

And after that Michael talked to his brothers to banish Lucifer into hell.

For his sins.

And now Lucifers Playhouse is his. The precious thing that Lucifer had in heaven, he even took this.

And now he has you too.

All mine. thought Michael, driven by envy and Jealousy.

How is this place in heaven? How is he in heaven

“We’ll see each other tomorrow rotten Apple. Try to take some rest, tomorrow isn’t going to be a good day for you.”

…

The voices stopped.

The sound of heels meeting the cold floor was the only thing that kept you sane for a second.

It kept the voices away that talked through the walls.

Sometimes you could see how they dragged an Angel down into the surgery Room.

So that happens to those who betray him.

It was cold and lonely down here. 

The sound of voices and clicking of the clock ringed in your ears. It was uncomfortable.

All you wanted was going back to your beloved Lucifer.

You couldn’t sleep because of the pain from the hole in your thigh that started to get infected. 

The flesh around it grew fury red and the bugs started to slowly eat the flesh around it.

You closed your eyes to imagine that you were with him. That this all was a nightmare and you're alright.

But the pain reminds you that nothing is alright.

Everything will be alright.

"You Liar." You whispered and opened your eyes to look at the black surrounding.

The sound of heels hitting the floor grew louder and louder till it stopped.

You raised your head and looked into those golden eyes that brought some light into this dark place. 

“I never dared to go to Michael’s playhouse, but I had to see it for myself. The Seraphim that father wants to have back. And yet here you are chained up by our dearest Brother Michael.” 

Click. 

He opened your cell and released you from the chains. 

You fell right into his arms, and he wasn’t cold like Michael, no. He was warm like Lucifer; you miss him already. His hands raised and touched your forehead, he pushed your hair slowly out of your face and the warm feeling came back. 

It reminded you when Lucifer and you first met. This unknown Angel was helping you. 

Why?

As if he heard your thoughts, he Introduced himself as The Arch Angel Leonardo. 

“I’m here to help. I can’t get you out of here yet, but I can heal your wounds.” Your hand and legs snapped in their right place, and you could feel them again. 

A tear of hope streaked down onto Leonardo’s black coat, and he stroked your back softly. 

The hope will not last long. Not as long you're here trapped into Michael's little Playhouse.

“You can rest for now.”

He laid you on the hard bed that was in the corner from the cell and his grip left your body. 

It was a step back into reality. 

The coldness hit your neck like a cold shower. You buried yourself under the thin sheet for any warmth it may have. And you finally slept out of exhausting.

_____

Lucifer was pacing around the hotel lobby, “We must do something!” He was terrified what will happen to you if he doesn't do anything.

He knows how heaven can manipulate and cruel. 

But Michael was a different story.

He was not allowed in heaven, so how can he get you back? it was against the agreement they had.

But he will go regardless. For you he’d break this one rule he never over stepped. 

For you he'd destroy heaven if it means to get you back.

Charlie stood there in silence, she felt like it was all her fault. She hadn’t put any safety measurements in her hotel to keep any attacker at bay. 

And Michael took you away.

Now Lucifer lost you, and worse they all lost you. 

And maybe she’ll lose her father of her dumb mistake. 

Soulmates can’t be separated for a long time for a reason.

“Luci?” 

A soft voice called out for him. 

He spun around and glared at the person who stood on the staircase. “Lilith?” 

Again, weird timing. 

She stepped in front of him not even glancing at the other members. 

She has something planned, Angel Dust thought as he looked her into the eyes. 

They gave a dangerous look. A glint of hatred reflecting in them.

She's not here to be friendly.

_____

You woke up from the heavy sound of metal meeting stone. Voices were keeping you from going back to sleep.

Michael and another person were standing in front of you observing the scenery.

Michael looked at your healthy body. No Broken Limps.“Leonardo has to ruin all my fun.” Michael pouted and the other one just shrugged.

“He doesn’t like when you’re, you know, you?” The other person said looking at you.

You stood up and stretched your body, the aching pain of your muscles calmed in relief after some movement.

You looked the other person right into their golden eyes, just like Leonardo's.  

His Grin was just like Lucifers just with Humane teeth. 

Why do they have to be all related.

He bowed slightly and introduced himself as Azrael the Arch Angel of Death. 

Your mind spins what type of Arch Angel is Leonardo and what was Lucifer? 

You know that Michael is the Arch Angel of protection. 

You know so much about Lucifer but also nothing.

With a snap of Michaels fingers, you were back up in chains. 

You grunted at the sudden burning sensation from the chains. They were icy cold. “Your little lover boy seems to be in a little trouble my dear.”

___

Lucifer stepped back as Lilith stalked towards him, throwing affection comments on him. 

What is her plan? 

Lucifers back hit the wall with his back, there’s no escape.

He cursed.

Lucifer doesn't want to hurt Lilith.

Not in front of Their baby.

_____

“He spins lies and crawls between sheets.” Michael chuckled, and Azrael crossed his arms in front of his chest the smirk never left his face. 

In front of you an orb appeared, it was deep black with a white aura flying around it. 

“Let me show you something my dear.” Azrael said pointing towards the orb.

The orb showed the Hotel, or rather the scene that takes place in the hotel.

Lucifer and Lilith were standing both so close.

Lucifer wouldn't do anything, he loves you right?

___

Lilith pulled his chin towards him and kissed him forcefully.

Shoving her tongue into his mouth.

A passionate kiss was shared between. Or that's how it looked.

____

You looked at the orb Azrael made for you to look through. 

Your hands ached from being chained too long, bruises almost turning black. And all you could do is watching helplessly how Lilith was kissing Lucifer. 

No that's a Lie.

A piercing pain throbbed and spread in your heart. Like a knife that buries itself slowly into the soft flesh of your heart. The knife slowly gets dragged down, slicing your chest open in the process. 

That's the nearest thing that could describe the pain you feel right now.

“He never loved you.” Azrael’s words echoed through your hollowed skull, your mind was screaming, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

The pain that resides in your heart and the words Azrael and Michael were planting into your minf.

Stop

This all must be a lie.

This must be fake.

Lucifer would never do that to you. “It’s real darling.” Azrael took your chin between his fingertips, a sadistic grin never failed to appear.

No

Your body felt numb, you slumped down when Azrael let you go. 

You hang on the chains like a dead corpse.

Michael looked from the shadow; he loved the view.

Your suffering was pure pleasure to him, you suffer is his suffer and it filled his icy cold heart with desire. 

He wants more destruction. 

More of your breaking.

He wants to see you break into itty bitty pieces. 

So, pity full. 

Your eyes were empty, you’re shutting down. No more defense reflexes.

You wanted to die right here and there.

Were you not enough?

You should’ve known that this was all a lie. 

It was all your fault after all. 

You broke his trust in the first place. 

Leonardo looked down at your figure and he was the only one who didn’t smile. 

Since when is he watching anyways?

Is it pity? Is it caring? 

Stop, stop. 

Stop looking at me like that.

He should smile not taking pity on your own misery as something sad.

They’re all the same, Arch Angels are all the same, even Lucifer.

He wants to use you just like anyone else.

Leonardo will play with you and then throw you away like everyone else.

You were mad and disappointed. Lucifer made you feel like the only person he needed.

But in reality he just wanted you gone so he could have Lilith back. 

And when you were captured by the one and only Michael. 

And Lilith took the opportunity that you here chained up in here.

She lets Michael do whatever he wants with you. and in return she returns to Lucifer.

Wasn’t she known to be kind and loving and just left Lucifer with their child.

Then she replaced you, taking her spot back that she left long time ago.

Were you living to rot in your own misery.

Who would Love you anyway?

Not even your own mother glanced a second glance at you when you needed her the most.

You felt like a failure.

You couldn’t even keep your own Soulmate that is destined to stay by your side. 

You looked up at Leonardo, his pitiful stare was stirring something in you. Something you never felt, it was indeed a sin. 

In the end you never dared to sin. But the plates have changed. Your life already is horrible.

Anger, and the desire to kill build up in your chest. Filling the pain that is planted deep in the softness of your heart.

“don’t look at me like that. Go on laugh, laugh that I thought he would safe me out of here. NO ONE IS STOPPING YOU!” You clawed up to him, the chains were rustling and the skin of your wrist were scratch open.

You wanted to claw his face open. You wanted the pain to stop. Tears were falling uncontrollably, and the sobbing mixed with the horrible sight of you clawing to get out.

That someone will come and save you out of this.

But no one will come

You feel like you’re going to burst, you didn’t want this life. 

You wanted Love, you wanted to be loved and someone to tell you that you're safe.

You missed him even though he betrayed you.

Love is the greatest curse of them all

God created you out of mere dust and let you stay in the dirt. 

Not even God could love you. 

Leonardo shifted his gaze away from you, “I’m sorry…” You laughed at his attempted apology. And your body fell lump.

"I got you" Sera whispered as she held you close to your body. You giggled and looked up to your mother. "You'll never leave me, right Mom?" And Sera nods. "Never."

She left.

"I got you sweetie." Lucifer's Forehead was on yours and he hums a soft tune that calmed you down.

You had a panic attack.

You dreamed about your mother again and Lucifer came to calm you down."I'll not leave you."

That’s what Lucifer said and look where he is now. 

He's gone.

"You're alone, Y/n."

In the Arms of his beloved Lilith.

____

Lucifer was quick to push Lilith away with brutal force. He rubbed his mouth with his clawed hand in a disgusting meanor. 

“Get the fuck off me.” He said while spitting the mixed saliva out of his mouth.

His lips felt like they’ve touched poison. 

He was glad you haven’t seen this. He is scared that you’d misinterpret this. 

He doesn’t want Lilith he wants you.

And he certainly doesn't want to lose you.

Little did he know that’s why Lilith did it and in fact you’ve saw the kiss they shared. 

Lilith, who was now on the ground, smirked up to him.

“The damage already done love.” Her Voice was full of venom. That’s not the Lilith Lucifer used to know. 

Lilith was kind and loving.

And now she’s rotten and disgusting like spoiled milk.

“What have you done?” He tilted his head rather asking himself what damage Lilith meant.

“Your little Angel. She’s the one you love and care so much and she’s the one who’ll burn this all down.” Lucifer raised his eyebrows. 

“What you mean?” Angel dust asked, clearly knowing who’s she referring too. “Yeah, she’ll never do that.” Husk stated serious catching everyone in surprise. 

He genuinely cares about you and that surprised the others.

The Husk cares about an Angel. Wouldn’t be the first Angel but the other is a demon that carries the name Angel. 

The name of his new Identity.

Lilith laughed, “God has his Plans.” 

Lucifers ears peaked at that, “God? Now you’re a puppet of him? The one who you said made you suffer? Really? That’s why you left me all alone with a child?” 

He took a deep breath closing his eyes, trying to calm down his building anger.

“Where is she?” He asked calmly, his eyes remained closed as he waited for her answer. 

No Answer. 

“Tell him, you pig.” Vaggie said holding a spear deathly on Lilith’s neck.

“I could kill you in less than a second. You’re in the deathly position, Vaggie.” Lilith smirked up at her, tapping with her nail on the Angelic weapon. 

Tap 

Tap

“And in less than a milli second I can wipe you out of existence,” Lucifer opened his eyes showing its fury scarlet color, “So tell me, where is she?” He leaned down towards her face. 

Fire danced along with his words, intimidating Lilith. 

“She is in heaven.” She answered in defeat.

“Oh, we know. But where?” Angel said and his voice wasn’t welcoming either. 

No one hurts his little sugar tits. Not even the Arch Angels themselves. 

“In Michaels playhouse, your old one. That's where she is right now. But I don’t have any more Information.” Lucifer snapped with his fingers. 

Chains appeared out of the ground pulling Lilith down a portal to God knows where. 

Lilith screamed at Lucifer, to let her go. She doesn't want to go there where these chains will drag her.

“We are leaving.” Lucifer muttered, patting the dust from him.

“Where to?” Charlie asked looking her father in his red eyes. 

“It’s time to bring Y/n back.”

Please be alright.

A/n: The Hazbin gang is on their way to Y/n. Let's hope they're not too late.

Thank you all for the Support Pookies<3

💫

Sadly couldn't Tag you

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows @0puddleofgender0 @fallenh34art @v3r41ynn @froggybich @pank0w

[tinyluvs]

Hii! Heard you crave fluff 🤭 (Please no angst, I'm not in the mood to bear it😭)

Something like Reader isn't feeling well physically (like just some flu) but Hotch and Jack being super caring and sweet, and just comforting her 😭

i gotchu, jack n hotch are my babiesss, enjoy !! ♡

you’re sitting in what can only be described as a blanket fortress when aaron comes back into the living room, bowls in hand. he stops to admire his sons handiwork

“look daddy!,” jack squeals, tiny hands shoving and tucking the edges of what you hope is the last blanket, around your sides, “all tuckered up,”

“tucked,” you correct him softly, hand brushing through his hair as he leans back and plops down next to you, “i didn’t know you had so many blankets,” you say to aaron, both of you fighting a laughing fit

aaron hands you and jack bowls, both piled high with ice cream, “neither did i,” he chuckles as he sits on your other side, his bowl resting on his knee, “how’re you feeling?” he asks

jack had given you his cough and cold, nothing serious though both boys are acting like you’re knocking on deaths door, “i told you, i’m absolutely fine!” unfortunately for you, your voice cracks and causes you to break out into a coughing fit

the child beside you gasps, springing into action by forcing you forward to pound his tiny hands against your back while his father just chuckles at you both

“thanks buddy,” you croak out with a feeble thumbs up when he decides you’re okay again. you simply don’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t choking and neither does aaron

the room falls into a comfortable silence, just spoons clinking against ceramic while you all watch a rerun of spongebob on the tv, jacks pick but you have no complaints

thanks to the blankets you start to sweat, your cold chills banished for the time being, “i’m too hot now,” you whine quietly, shuffling into the space under aaron’s arm

“take some blankets off then,” he mumbles, lips pressing against your warm forehead, his fingers combing through your hair ever so gently

you groan, knowing it’s the only option, “i don’t want to make jack feel bad though,” you rush out before stealing a spoonful of ice cream from your boyfriends bowl

he huffs, “you’ll make me sick,” he points out though there’s no fire behind it and when you look up at him with a soft and slightly cheeky smile he takes the opportunity to sneak a quick kiss

“you’ll make me sick,” you mock, moving away from him so you’re sitting again and not slouched against his side, “jack, honey, i’m really hot now, can i take some of these blankets off now, please?”

jack thinks, deeply, swirling his spoon around in his ice cream so it makes what he calls ice cream soup, “can i have one? i’m cold,” he asks and you nod, “okay then,” he concludes with a shrug

aaron snatches your bowl from your knee as it wobbles, allowing you to stand and shed the blankets off of you, letting them fall to the floor in a pile which you’ll clear up later

“which one do you want?” you ask jack, both of you staring down at the pile. you already know he’s going to choose the avengers one, it’s his favourite and he was quick to let you borrow it in your time of need

silently he points, to the avengers one, with his spoon. you scoop it up from the floor and throw it over the smaller boy before plopping back into your space

“here,” aaron hums, pushing your bowl against your hand causing you to flinch when it’s cold on your skin. your bowl, upon inspection, has less ice cream in it than when you left it

“how could you? stealing from your sick girlfriend.” you huff, staring into your bowl so he doesn’t see your lips pressed tight, refusing to smile

“ah, i thought you were fine,” aaron smirks, you only know because you feel it against your temple. he kisses you once before standing, “ do you want anything from the kitchen?”

the question is aimed at you however jack perks up before you do, "more ice cream!" he shrieks, waving his bowl at his father, the spoon flies out, thudding down onto the carpet with a dull thud, "uh oh"

you snicker, stopping short when aaron shoots you a look, "uh oh indeed," he sighs lightly, bending to grab the spoon, "no more ice cream for you buddy," he says, tapping the sticky spoon off of his sons head

jack takes offence, immediately. he flies off of the couch at speed, taking off after aaron who dashes towards the kitchen. you take a second to cough before following them

when you get to the kitchen jack is stood on the counter while aaron stands in front of him, both of them waving a spoon at each other like swords.

"ha ha!" jack laughs, smacking his dads spoon hard enough to send it spinning out of his hand. aaron gasps and lunges towards jack, swiping off of the counter, one arm around him while the child screams and shrieks

you giggle and smile at your boys as aaron sits jack on the edge of the counter before he's reaching for you, hands grabbing at your hips. he lifts you onto the counter, putting you right next to jack, "now you've cooled down, temperature," he mumbles to himself turning to rummage through a drawer

"i wanna do it, i'm a doctor!" jack announces, snatching the thermometer from aaron's hand. he turns towards you, face fiercely serious, "go ahhh," he demonstrates, mouth open and tongue poked out

"ahhhh," you parrot, letting the child push the thermometer into your mouth while aaron stands arms crossed in front of you, "i bet you i'm fine," you mumble around the object

the thermometer beeps and gets ripped away from you a second later, "daddy?" jack huffs, realising he can't read what it says.

aaron turns it towards the light so he can see the numbers before he smiles, "hey, you're all good," he hums, hand smoothing over your knee, "just the cough we have to get rid of now,"

"yay!" you and jack celebrate, arms in the air

"which means," aaron cuts you both off, voice louder than yours and his sons, "no more ice cream for dinner," he smiles to himself as he turns to dump the previously forgotten about bowls into the sink

jack gasps up at you, genuinely looking sad as you wrap an arm around him, pulling him tight against your side, "don't worry jacko," you whisper, "give it two days and daddy will be sick and then we will be eating all the ice cream we want,"

"awesome"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

[ahli-stuff]

The Corinthian: more than an object but less than a human and a wretched reflection of his creator

My obsession with the Corinthian is so funny because at first it's like ok. Cool. He's this gay serial killer nightmare with creator issues who's turns out to be a charming antagonist while he's pitted against dream and going about his nefarious plans on screen. What's not to love?

But then there's the next layer of oh...he has preferences and quirks and interests, but he's not a person enough to be a human he's a tool.. that's why he gets unmade in the middle of the street by his lord!! That he had a couple millennia of history with!! Because it's easy.. Dream has the blueprints, therefore remaking the Corinthian and editing out these faulty design aspects is pragmatic. It's efficient. It's less effort and way less emotionally taxing that trying to wrangle in your rogue creation and trying coax them back into doing their job. A human makes a mistake, you correct and reprimand them and offer a better course of action. But if your wrench rusts, you throw it away and buy a new one. It doesn't matter if it's your prized or even your favorite wrench, if it's been rusted to the point of uselessness, you toss it.

And the Corinthian, the agonized wrench, can probably only think: "Did I really mean so little to you?"

I think it totally fucks with his mind. The fact that Dream refers to the Corinthian as his masterpiece and yet he is still lesser in every form of his being—his agency is lesser in every form.

But you can't really blame Dream, can you?

Dream treats the corinthans agency like he treats his own—unnegotiable. For him, it has always been perform your function or die.

Dream: We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than what I am.

And the Corinthian, in his own eye teeths, has performed his prescribed duty perfectly without hesitation or fail for thousands of years as well and worn as a well used knife—but he knows he can do more, so he does. Because if his function is to chase and slaughter in the dreaming, what's to say can't do it in the waking too?

Besides, in the waking, he's realer. More combobulated. More valued. If you're a mirror for long enough you start to crave a look of your own.

And oh, even with the thrill of newfound freedom, he loves his lord. He's eager for to give to him—to share with him—everything that's ever been dreamed of. In the Corinthians long, long, life he has only ever had his purpose and his lord and for a while that was enough, but his expectations evolve, he changes.

And that's really what dooms him.

Over the course of The Sandman you can see that looking deeper into Dream's ideology "perform your function or die" reveals one of the true themes of the sandman which is "change yourself or die." The Corinthian, whether intentionally or unintentionally serves as a mirror to dreams own character arc and the way dream treats himself.

Like how people put facets of themselves in their original characters, I think that in the corinthian Dream put a version of his own insatiable hunger; to break every rule, to run freely, to enjoy hedonistically. In creating the Corinthian as a mirror Dream unknowingly reflected a distorted face of one of his own buried desires—and i think he couldn’t accept that.

The Corinthian even calls dream out for it at the serial convention (even though he's advocating for murder) he's also jabbing at Dream's unwillingness to show emotional vulnerability and the cage he's built around himself.

Corinthian: Or you might actually feel something.

The dream the Corinthian knows he always cared exceptionally little for humans save for a select few, so what remains is this. Dream might've cared for the Corinthian, but he would unmake him, his prized creation, not for any moral justice, not for a personal slight, but for his rules and nothing else.

For the corinthian, who has spent years upon years upon years with his lord, fighting in his wars, chasing after his approval, pouring every ounce of love and loyalty to him—it stings.

And then there's this scene.

Dream: You're right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you. But I created you poorly then.

This is the Corinthian, knowing he is about to die, spilling his frustration and spite to his creator for maybe the first and last time and trying, desperately, to make dream understand that none of this is fair (it's never been, for either of them. It's been the function and nothing else for an eternity but they could be happy.)

This is Dream purposely misinterpreting the Corinthian in the way that is guaranteed to hurt the him the most. Dream, with a writer's indifference, reduces the Corinthian's complicated desperate desire for freedom, rebellion, and his creator's love to his typo. Like a character’s grievance towards their writer, like a man’s outrage towards their god, Dream decides not to deign the corinthian with even the right to call his treason his own. He will not even let him have that bit of agency. No, Dream made the Corinthian wrong.

And then Boyd Holbrook does a phenomenal piece of acting here—he knows how to play evil and charming so well but the Corinthian’s vulnerability is so starkly on display it feels like a knife.

And when you imagine he is about to burst into bloody tears and anguished final words, this is how it ends: they leave each other cruel and jagged, because the corinthian will not end pathetic and he will have the last word.

The Corinthian: I am only sorry I won’t be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you.

The first Corinthian never gets a happy ending.

I don’t think there’s any universe where he doesn’t bite more than he’s allowed to and there is no world where he can really be forgiven. As there is no universe where Morpheus Dream does not stubbornly tie himself to his function and hurt himself and those around him with his pride.

In objectification and the inability to change, they exist as wretched mirrors of each other: The first Corinthian, sick of his function and executed for abandoning it, and Dream, unendurably tired, taking his sister's hand in his when he can no longer bear to perform his duty.

[writingforcuteppl]

Hopeless

PAIRING: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

SUMMARY: After Usopp left the crew, you knew Luffy wouldn’t like anyone to disturb him, unless it’s you.

GENRE: Angst and fluff 

WARNINGS: Established relationship. Mentioned of blood.

WORD COUNT: 595 words

A/N: I promised myself I wasn’t going to write about One Piece until I had my AOT series out, but I watched Usopp leave the crew yesterday, and this is my way to cope because that was heartbreaking, so enjoy!!!

“Hey,” you whispered to Luffy, who was leaning on the fence on the rooftop of the hotel you were staying for the night, wanting to get his attention and also trying hard not to start crying again after watching the dreadful fight Luffy and Usopp had not long ago.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Luffy didn’t even look your way, something that wasn’t normal, at least for him. He always greeted you with a bright smile and sparkly eyes. And it hurt you to see him like this.

Also, this was the first time you ever saw him cry, and you couldn’t bear the thought of that happening again.

“I know, but maybe a little company can help.” You made your way next to him. You didn’t really know how Luffy was going to react in this situation. It’s the first time he not only lost a crewmate but also a friend. It felt like a part of all of you was missing.

“Do you think it was a mistake? Choosing to leave the Merry here?“ Luffy asked, wanting to know your opinion. Even if he was the captain, he knew sometimes he needed common sense from anyone in the crew. He knows he can be reckless sometimes.

“It was your decision, Captain.”

“Please, tell me what you really think. Forget just this time, I’m your captain. And tell me what you think as my girlfriend,” you sighed.

“I don’t know much about ships. I do know our ship holds meaning for all of us. And it holds even more meaning to Usopp. After all, Kaya gave us the ship.” Luffy only nodded. “I also think everything has to come to an end, and if this was the end of the Merry, then I would gladly say goodbye to it with a smile. It was the best ship we could’ve asked for.”

“And the fight..?”

“I also believe that was bound to happen. You heard Usopp. The Merry was just the final straw. He already made up his mind even before you told him about the Merry.” 

“I don’t think he’s weaker, that… That’s what he said.”

“ I think-“You stayed in silence before correcting what you were going to say, “No, I’m sure no one thinks like that, Luffy. Which makes me think everything that happened today with the Franky Family made him think so poorly of himself.” Without even realizing it, Luffy wrapped his arms around you, holding you in his warm embrace. You hugged him back, letting him know you were there for him. Your hands made their way to his hair, and you started to caress it. 

As you felt Luffy’s tears wet your shirt, you tried to think of a life where the crew wouldn’t have Usopp, and it made your heart ache. If it hurt you like this, you can’t imagine how bad this affected the others, let alone Luffy.

“I swear I didn’t want it to escalate so quickly,” he cried softly, and you tried to calm him down by patting his head.

“I know that everything seems to be crumbling down, and you feel hopeless. Unfortunately, I believe all of us feel this way. This was a long day. But believe me when I say everything will be alright, Luffy.”

“How?”

“I really don’t know how, but everything seems to resolve somehow. One way or another,” Luffy’s hold became stronger as if he didn’t want you to go. Fearing you would also leave him. “No matter what happens, I will never leave you, Luffy.”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

n a v i g a t i o n

[mrs-monaghan]

there’s so much misinfo going round atm, see lots of people saying that after jk enlists with jm and does the boot camp he can apply for some special ???something and will leave separately where he is stationed or that just because jk / jm are enlisting on same day, they only will do basic training together then go to separate places ? and that they only chose the enlisting together option because it meant they could make sure they were out in time for june ?

ik it’s a bit hard to follow maybe with different sources and not real confirmation but do you know if any of it is true? my understanding was that they did the “enlisting together” scheme thing, (ie. it’s a purposeful application, they knew they were choosing this way) which meant they’ll at least be in same living quarters etc the whole time until they’re out ?

sorry for long Q! it’s ok if you dk it was just confusing D; thank you!

Hi anon. 😳 I am terrible when it comes to the serious stuff and have the attention span of a toddler when such topics arise. My mind registers them as boring and so I don't retain the in4. But my friends delved deep into this so I will gather as much as I can and do my best to explain the sitch

Let me start by correcting the biggest misinformation of them all. Thanks to fucking Mina with her fake subs and reaching conclusions, the vermin are confusing "Special Task Force" with "Special Forces"

JK said he wanted to join special forces. Well and good

But thats not what V is doing. V applied for Special Task Force which, while not easy (he said in the live its why he enlisted there, to challenge himself) its nothing compared to special forces. Special forces is HARD CORE. Its no joke. It's for those who actually want to go to war and proper fight for their country. Not for those fulfilling a mandatory duty... One they wouldn't do if they had the choice. Special forces, those people actually wanna be there. And if u know JK then u shouldn't be surprised that he would say something like this. Of course our dare devil bunny would enjoy joining something as risky as special forces.

But guess what? No one stopped him. He still could have gone there if he really wanted to. Just like in Winter package. No one told him to give up zip lining for beer tasting. He did that off his own volition since Jimin was going beer tasting. JK's happiness is where Jimin is. Period. (Suga's presence played a big part but we don't talk about Yoonmin)

(Edit: the whole thing takes almost 8 years to complete which again, is not something JK would actually do if he wanted to still stay a member of BTS. And of course satellite Jeon would again, never do it)

Jikook wanted to use the buddy system and they applied where Jin is on purpose because since the location is so risky, (front lines) not alot of people apply to serve there. So the chances of them being accepted were pretty high. I already talked a bit about that here.

Coldest and most dangerous. But before we panic, Jikook love snow so... thats good. But also;

2 things to note before we continue; 1) Tattoos are a none factor on why Jikook applied together or why JK couldn't be with V. They had 0 to do with that. And 2) All members and where they ended up it was their decision

So, here is a Korean explaining

They shall not be separated. They will train together and continue to serve together

One body. Shiet.

Nice. Even the breaks they will take together. Basically spend every minute together for those 18 months y'all.

They had to pass 3 rounds. Applying wasn't all. They had rounds to pass before getting accepted. So as we can see this was a whole ass process. They really worked hard on this to make it happen.

Apparently there is a show you can watch that explains the buddy system. Its 8 episodes, its called real man

The holding hands thing is legit 🤣🤣🤣

Jikook shouldn't have an issue then 🤭

Anon, people are in denial and the other half are trying to explain this away. If Jikook only went in together just so they could come out at the same time then they could have done what Vmon did. Apply separately at the same time.

This is one tough pill to swallow for antis. It's like the biggest fuck u Jikook could have ever done but at the same time I really don't think they factored anyone else but themselves when they made this decision.

18 months is no small amount of time so let's call a spade a spade; Jikook couldn't be apart that long. Fax 💯 JK wanted to be there for Jimin, Jimin wanted to be there for JK, of course. Them in the same place looking out for each other is all I as a fan who loves them can ask for. But at the same time, they needed this.

Anon, they will be together 24/7 for the entire duration of their time there.

Yes. Sleeping in the same quarters. It wouldn't make sense for companionship if they were separating the recruits who applied together. To be companions. Of each other.

The buddy system is there to help friends cope with this difficult mandatory thing that the government insists on doing to their young men. It's there to help them cope in any way possible. I imagine mostly mentally. So why would they train them together then separate them? ❓❓❓

It is said that you should make sure the person you apply with, is a person u get along with super well because for the next 18 months you will be together every moment of everyday. It's krazy to imagine that JK wouldn't rather do this with his actual boyfriend V, instead. Krazy. 🤯

Anygays, no need to worry my good people, Jimin and JK have got each other's back. All that's left is to wait for them and pray for them. May they always hold hands 🤭

Tihihihihihihi

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

Jjk drabbles as things my crush has done to me

Characters: Nanami,Geto,Gojo x reader (civilian university au ig)

Fluff!

Themes: SFW.Dancing!!Acts of service, good and cute things in general , I won’t spill too much to not ruin the story.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

𖤐Gojo <3

There were 2 things that you hated most in the world, the fact that you always wanted to look cute and stairs.

Both of these things were coming back to bite you in the ass right now. You rubbed your heeled boots on the rough ground as you looked up at the 4 flights of stairs that you need to get up to so you could get to class.

You cursed at your vain self for choosing such foot wear, knowing that you had to be at uni the whole day. And if the day couldn’t get any worst, the imposing sun above you started to burn your skin , shining brighter than before.

It was all a mess , the heat , the heavy backpack ,and your soles aching.

As you started to mindlessly complain about the before mentioned pesky problems to your friend and gojo; the tall standing figure looked down at you with a small smile that decorated his scratched face.

He owed his beaten face to the fact that 6 drunks decided to pick a fight with him on his way to the bus stop, he was generally a peaceful guy unless provoked so he just decided to ignore the ordeal ,but one of the drunks got really annoying and started to throw ripped beer cans at him, naturally he wasn’t just gonna tolerate this disrespect ;so he clocked the guy back with the can to his face with all his might.

Fully prepared to fight Gojo had his guard up , but then he noticed all the 6 guys started to pull out pocket daggers he did what was most wise and manly which was to run for the hills.

So to make a long story short home boy was a bit tired and beaten. As you sighed and decided to push through the pain to head up the stairs, he calls your name.

-“If you want I can give you a piggy back ride.”- He suggests as he starts to stretch his arms.

-“Oh don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t want to bother you in your state.”-You said as you returned a shy smile.

-“Don’t worry about it , I’m not as weak as you think.”-He said as he adorns a concerned look on his face.

You look over to your friend who suggested he could carry Gojos backpack as he carried you as his backpack.

-“My backpacks heavy.”- You commented trying to get him to back out.

-“Ok.”

-“You’re serious?.”

-“Dead serious.”

You gave him an untrusting gaze as he turned his back to you and crouched down so you could jump on him.Your backpack was weighing you down so you grabbed on to dear life to his neck in hopes you wouldn’t slide down with every step he took.

-“You’re choking me.”- He grumbles dryly.

All 3 of you bust out in laughter, but mostly your laughter was powered by embarrassment.

He promptly hops to adjust you higher on his back so you both could be more comfortable ,then continues his way up the stairs while making comments on how you feel like a monkey.

Geto <3

Time passed slowly as you and your friend group wait for the next class.

All of you were at the cafeteria but the only ones awake were Geto and you.

To make time pass by faster you decided to tune in on a soccer game he was watching, promptly you became entertained and as soon as he noticed the smallest bit of interest in your eyes ;he started to explain all the plays in the game.

-“If I’m not mistaken, isn’t that guy lewandowski?”-You called out as you pointed to a player on his phone screen.

-“You’re correct, im surprised a geek like you would know a thing or two about soccer.” - He blurted out in a teasing tone as he passed a hand through his long black hair.He always found a thing to tease you about, today it was your guilty pleasure: watching anime.

-“Fuck off, I don’t sit around and watch anime all day. I do productive things, unlike others”-You retorted as you gave him the side eye.-“I’m not totally ignorant, I know some basics.”

He giggled at you as he placed his hand on his cheek so he could lean on the table while looking at you.

-“I don’t believe a word you’re saying, you probably heard him on blue lock or some shit. Time to touch some grass weirdo. Aren’t you embarrassed?.”- He chuckled out with an accusing tone in his brassed tone.

Tired of his shit, you raised your palm to smack him on the head, knowing there was no way you could exit this conversation with a drop of patience left in you.

To your surprise (not) he nonchalantly grabbed your wrist before you could hit him, getting progressively more annoyed you swung your other hand to smack him which he also swiftly catched.He looked at you through his smug black eyes as he watched you struggle to be set loose under his grasp.

Irritated, you started to push your still captive wrist to him in hopes he looses balance and hopefully cracks his skull on the floor or something.

But before you knew it he resisted your attempts with a cocky grin letting you know that your strength didn’t hold a candle to his and that you two could pass the whole afternoon in this playful exchange.

As soon as you hit him with a death glare ,he shut his eyes and laughed as he let go of your wrist.

-“I’m sorry , i didn’t mean anything I said, I’m not being rude,I’m just playing with ya. You just look so cute while your angry, teasing you is inevitable.”-He concludes as he ruffles your hair.”-

Nanami <3

It was Friday night and your parents were out of town , so inviting your friends and drinking cheap whisky with loud music was inevitable.

You found yourself in the kitchen whipping up a cocktail for your friend so he could pass the whisky down easier, while the quiet nanami in front of you gulped down the whiskey pure as if it was water , his Adam’s apples bobbed as he gulped.You we’re entranced by his jawline as he finishes drinking maintaining the most neutral expression.

Ngl it was doing something to you , there was nothing more attractive than a man who could hold his liquor while maintaining a calm conversation.

Soon came your other friend bursting through the kitchen door to chug down the cocktail you just prepared.

-“Do you guys know how to dance, I really want to dance right now.”- yelled out your friend as he started to tune the music up.

So the two of you got up and danced by yourself respectively to the beat of the different genres of music that played.In the meanwhile Nanami sat down and crossed his thick arms as he watched you two make a fool of yourself.

Soon a romantic Latin slow song started playing, truth be told you loved to dance but none of your ex knew how to so you just resigned and learned how to dance by yourself.

As the liquor discarded any embarrassment you may experience, you only focused on the tempo , careful of the moment you marked a step with your hip, the music inebriated your ears and your hips moved to the careful notes of the song. You hugged yourself so you’d have something to do with your arms as you stepped side to side.

You look over to your friend who’s sitting down while extending your arms to them with the hopes they’d maybe considering dancing with you , they just politely decline stating they don’t know how to dance this type of music.

Your eyes glance over to nanami, jokingly making

a :( face at him to then continue dancing by yourself with closed eyelids.

Soon you were once again lost in the beautiful guitar notes until you felt a breeze pass you.

You opened you eyes to see nanami in front of you with both his hands extended to you as a clear invitation to dance.

You have never seen nanami do anything even remotely close to dancing so this comes as a big shock to you.

As you accept his invitation to dance by holding his big, rough hands , you asume you’ll dance at a holy safe distance but to your surprise he finds a way to sneak his legs between yours as he pulls you close by snaking his hands around your waist, your eyes open in awe, since you now understand he means business by dancing the traditional way.

You decided to follow your instincts by wrapping your hands at the base of his neck ( not in a choking way). You rest your head on his shoulder and you let your senses be hypnotized by his cologne.

You feel his hips move like you would your own and your steps start to sync with his. You nervously look around looking for a sign of discomfort due to the proximity of your bodies, but all he seems to care about is holding you close and dancing the night away..

💿

Context: I think this guy is kinda cute but I’m not invested emotionally to care too much about him and I also think that he’s playing me or he’s just super friendly but I hope you guys enjoy the short stories , I was as truthful as possible except where I describe the guys feelings cause idk what he was think at the moment tbh. But what do you guys think , do you think he may have feelings for me?

A/n: I’ve created these short drabbles in the meanwhile I write the new chapter for the gojo fanfic. Thank u guys so much for your patience love you ♥️ Not spell checked btw I’ll do it tomorrow.