#if i fucked anything up it's cuz this is longer than i realized it would be and im tired
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citrine-elephant · 2 months ago
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thinkin about what woulda happened to leon if simmons did manage to capture him....
(lore ramble + whump idea ramble)
so... correct me if i'm wrong, but...
simmons wanted to pin everything on leon and helena, but probably leon specifically. because of benford wanting to expose raccoon, and because of leon both witnessing raccoon, and forced into servitude after his survival.
leon probably could have cleared his name with enough of a fight, i'd imagine. hunnigan would find something. ada would've dropped off intel that she could.
so wiping out tall oaks was the cherry on top -> to silence the "final" witness and potential whistleblower (assuming there's no one else who's as high of a threat to simmons)
... not to mention who leon's got a crush on...
was helena just a means to an end, then...? simmons was a sadistic fuck and would probably torture people for fun, but if she had any more significance to him, then, i missed it-
simmons was willing to kill a friend of 30 years to protect The Family and whatever the hell they had going on trying to control the world. clearly, peak mental stability.
but as sadistic as simmons was. he wouldn't have been satisfied pinning everything on leon (and helena) and having him rot in a cell, right? prison's too good.
who knows what he'd have done with helena. use her to continue torturing leon? probably.
simmons would've blacksited him probably. dead to the world. no one to save him.
shove it in real deep about how simmons won and leon lost. how everyone thinks leon's a (dead) terrorist. how everyone thinks he was the one to kill so many people. and maybe how simmons was a grand hero now... and how leon can't do a goddamn thing to fix that.
you think simmons would hunt down everyone? one by one. just to make leon miserable. what do you think he'd do with em? pin crimes on them? kill them? introduce them to his favourite torture doll?
i don't think simmons would even NEED to have a vendetta against leon. c-virus made him lose his mind, but... dude's a fuckin nutjob and probably pops a stiffy when someone marginally looks unhappy.
more lore rambling below! :3c... dear god,
came to me in mental illness (skin picking bcuz anxiety lol)
these ideas clicked far too late, but i haven't consumed ALL resident evil media. so ... gotta be nice to myself. some stuff gets lost in translation, some stuff has weird delivery, some things aren't obvious on a surface, or just below, level. be nice.... aough!
some of the ways the lore is delivered though. infinite darkness? i knew leon wasn't a bootlicker, but the scene with claire at the end felt off and i was so fuckin lost.... until someone else pointed out that he was protecting claire. (i'd like to know if leon saved chip thingie that for later, or anonymously whistleblowed that?)
i like that it's not so heavy-handed, but whew... i don't feel smart!
so leon was forced into his position, right? but it was because of what he witnessed, not that he was simply a survivor? or, well, what he witnessed and how he survived, i guess.
they could've easily shot him in the head, then and there. but, was he kept alive for sherry? or because he managed to survive all that?
was the threat against sherry a bluff?
with leon's nature being one to quite literally throw himself in front of a bullet for some stranger, that could've just been used against him, right?
would they have done anything to sherry? sure, they needed to conduct tests and whatnot, i know that's canon from re6. what would they have done, anyway?
was threatening sherry simply to fuck with leon's head and keep him in line? threatening leon's life would've done jack shit to coerce him. but an innocent kid...
and an innocent kid. was keeping leon alive to keep her in line, too? and to add, they hadn't seen each other for a long ass time, right? like. re6 leon recognized her (i sure as hell wouldn't) but they were kept apart? to... keep each other from rebellion or some shit? control and all that?
god, the amount of psychological torture he had to endure. brainwashing. to an extent, of course. how much of leon's survivors' guilt came from the government coercing him into working for them? how much he blamed himself. how much of that you think was put in his head for him?
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 4 months ago
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Logan being jealous of Wade while being a throuple
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Description: Logan is jealous even though he and Wade agreed to share Y/N
Author’s note: I’ve had a lot of requests about these two together
Requests: Please do more deadpool and wolverine fanfics. Like them together yk what I mean cuz holy damn what Tag Team good.
Logan is a jealous guy. So sharing Y/N with Wade wasn’t so easy at first. 
He truly never saw himself in this situation but she wouldn’t choose and wanted both. 
Greedy, He thought but went along with it nonetheless. 
He held back a growl anytime Wade pulled Y/N in his lap and especially anytime his hand traveled up her thigh.
Logan wanted her to himself and that was the issue.
She had to cuddle with him before Wade and even after that he would glare at Wade as they spooned. 
Together? He was okay with it. Not his favorite thing in the world but better than her just cuddling with Wade 
Wade would provoke his jealousy anytime he got the chance too. 
Wade found it funny that Logan was mad and jealous of him touching THEIR girlfriend.
Wade wasn’t the jealous type and even encouraged them to make out or fuck in front of him. 
He was a freak. 
Y/N hadn’t caught onto Logan’s jealousy at first. 
It was Wade who made it obvious to her after she had convinced them for a threesome 
Though with Wade he didn’t really need much convincing 
Logan was having a hard time and Wade called him out
“Stop being so jealous all the time, Peanut.” 
Y/N finally realized that Logan’s actions were from jealousy.
She hated that he felt like that and wanted him to be comfortable with the situation. 
She cried a lot at night because of it and because she didn’t want to let either of them go. 
She loved them both. 
But her feelings couldn’t be hidden forever and soon enough he found out.
He wasn’t a big fan of her hiding her feelings from him but who was he to say when he kept his from her.
It made him feel a little better when he found out that Wade didn’t know either 
They planned a surprise date for her.
Logan and Wade, together.
They had a good time planning it and Logan didn’t feel jealous anymore.
Even when she found out and kissed Wade before him, he couldn’t help but smile. 
Cuddling without him, it now put a smile on his face. 
Sex? Well just like Wade he likes to watch and even participate. 
Just don’t expect him to do anything with Wade 
On second thought just to make Y/N happy he has kissed Wade. Even made out with him.
It wasn’t as bad as he thought but he would never admit that out loud. 
Wade was a good kisser 
Wade had no issue with kissing Logan and even offered to do more with him
Logan turned that down immediately 
But overall Y/N was happy that Logan was no longer jealous
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angelyuji · 6 months ago
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homelander realizing that you could make a great mom to ryan and kidnaps you, but realizes you were partly why ryan is not like him??? yeeah im thinking thoughts.
tw // physical abuse, mental/emotional abuse, implied noncon, homelander being homelander
honestly the ending got pretty sad idk why i think its cuz i feel so bad for ryan becuz he deserves so much better than shitty homelander and i wish his mom didnt die poor baby angel :( anyway....
"what have bullshit are you teaching him." john's face, twisted with wrath, was only a few inches away from you. you try to inch back, but he grabs your face. gripping your jaw with one hand, he forces you to look back at him. "answer the fucking question, (y/n). what poison- what LIES are you teaching my son?" your face hurts and you feel tears well up in your eyes.
"dad, she's not doing-" ryan tries to interject, to stop his father, but john raises a hand at him.
"don't. don't protect her. talk now, (y/n), before i really get angry." his eyes flash red and you feel your heart stop.
you sniffle, "john, i swear i'm not teaching him anything. i don’t know-” before you could finish, john backhands you, sending you to the floor. your vision goes white from the pain and you can’t help the screaming sobs coming out of you. when you look up, you see ryan in tears. you can’t even muster a smile to make him feel better.
“ryan, go to your room.”
“but-”
“NOW.” you hear ryan’s defeated steps go up the stairs. your scalp stings as john grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you up. “my son is the most powerful creation on the planet alongside me. i will not let you turn him into a pathetic, worthless worm like you. understand, (y/n)?”
his face is close to yours. you can feel his fury and you nod, afraid to speak.
"say it. say you understand."
you choke, "i understand... i'm sorry, john." his grip loosens and you collapse to the floor, shaking wth sobs. you hear him huff quietly to himself.
"so fragile and weak, why would you think ryan should be like you and not me, his father?" you look up at him and he stares down at you. you try to speak, but he holds a hand up. "i don't want to hear it." you look down. the room fills with silence, interrupted occasionally with ryan's footsteps from upstairs. "fucking pathetic." you hear him mumble. "go upstairs and collect yourself. i don't want to hear your sniffles when i fuck you tonight." he rolls his eyes and waves you away.
you stumble up the stairs and finally make it to the bedroom, collapsing into the bathroom. you sit in the bathtub, knees against your chest, sobbing.
"y/n?" a small voice comes from in front of the door. you quickly wipe your tears.
you clear your throat, "come in, sweetheart!" you watch as the door is opened, hesitantly. ryan comes in, slowly, and closes the door behind him. he looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. he sits down next to the bathroom. "you're growing up so fast..." you try to smile and brush your hand through his hair.
ryan puts his head down on the edge of the bathtub, "i'm so sorry, (y/n)..." your heart hurts and you cup his face in your hands.
"none of this is your fault, ryan. you did nothing wrong." you watch tears fall faster down his face. you pull him into a hug. the edge of the bathtub was digging into your skin, but you felt ryan relax and you knew you could be in pain for a little while longer.
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milykins · 1 month ago
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One More Night
I felt inspired by @justalotoffanfiction who wrote a Bayverse Raph story based on Mr. Brightside, so I thought I'd try my hand writing something based on a different song, One More Night by Maroon 5.
TW: Angst, Abuse toward Raph, verbal and physical, swearing and mentions of sex.
*Aged up characters
*Bayverse Raph × Reader
*HEA ending guaranteed
Special thanks to @avery73 for beta-reading!
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Even the strongest of us can fall victim to this type of treatment. Raphael was no exception.
SLAP!
The sound reverberated off of the paper-thin walls in the tiny apartment. She was hitting him again. She was always angry at him for some reason. Why the hell was he here again? Oh, yeah, because she wanted to fuck him. This was always the reason.
He got a little bit of satisfaction seeing her shake her hand after slapping him, though it did nothing to quell her seemingly burning hatred toward him. If anything, she looked more enraged that his skin was so tough.
“You ASSHOLE! You think you can come and go as you please?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” She was screaming at him because his patrol had gone longer than it normally would, and she did not like to be kept waiting.
He knew this, and he should care, but he didn't. This… ‘thing’ they’d had going on had been well-established for months, but any time something went awry or didn’t go according to plan, she exploded. It’s not like she could really hurt him… slapping, hitting, throwing things at him. It didn’t really matter. That’s what he tried to tell himself, to make excuses for her behaviour because, on the other hand, being with her had resulted in some of the hottest sex imaginable. That’s why he kept coming back. That’s why they both kept coming back.
It still made him angry though. Fucking bitch.
“FUCKING FINE! I’ll just fucking GO THEN.” He meant it and whirled around to leave.
“Don’t you take another step Raphael.” She snapped; her voice deadly low. “Get the hell over here.”
He should leave. He should shut this down right now and never come here again. They both knew that this wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop coming.
And she knew it.
Moments later he’d spanned the length of the room and had her pressed tightly against the wall, kissing her ravenously, his hand fisted in her hair. She was just as desperate, hands clawing at him, trying to remove his clothes, and throwing his weapons to the ground. As hot as that was, he’d never liked how she had no respect for them or cared about how dangerous they were. All she had cared about was getting what she wanted.
In the aftermath, he laid in her bed staring at the ceiling hating himself. She was deeply asleep beside him blissfully unaware of his conflicting feelings. She’d apologize of course in her moments of clarity, even promise that next time she’d be nicer, gentler. She never kept that promise.
Quietly, as only a ninja could, he dressed, retrieved his weapons, tucking them safely into his belt and left. He felt like such an idiot. He needed to stop fucking doing this. He knew his brothers and their father were worried about him but he shut down anytime anyone tried to ask him about it. The only one who had any idea of what was going on was Casey.
“Dude, she sounds fucking awful, why do you keep going there?”
“Cuz she’s hot and the sex is amazing.”
“No pussy is worth this, man. She’s slapping the shit out of you every time you go.”
“’s fine, it doesn’t really hurt me any.”
“Maybe not physically, but it ain’t great for your head.”
“I’m fine.”
They’d left it at that; but as time went on, he was slowly coming to the realization Casey was right. This wasn’t good for him but he kept going back. He needed to stop; he needed a reason to cut ties with her for good.
You ended up being that reason.
You’d been best friends throughout your teens and had lost touch after the two of you had met your respective partners. Your relationship had ended disastrously with him cheating on you with a ‘friend’ of yours. Immediately, you cut ties and burned those bridges with both of them. Now single, your thoughts had turned back to Raph. You wondered how he was doing and hoped he was happy. You wished the two of you could reconnect and catch up, but you were afraid he’d forgotten all about you.
It's funny how life works sometimes. One Saturday night, you heard glass breaking in the apartment below you. You had just moved in and had groaned when you realized there was probably a loud argumentative couple living below you now. Hearing more noise and muffled yelling prompted you to go to your balcony to see what was going on. You figured you could call the police if it got really bad and you were just a tiny bit nosy.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw and heard.
“You’re fucking crazy! I’m done. WE’RE FUCKING DONE! I ain’t never coming back here!” It was Raph, it was unmistakably his voice. You’d know it anywhere.
Craning your neck over the side of your balcony you looked far as you could and saw him. The poor guy looked like a wreck. There was red liquid and bits of broken glass all down his front. From what you could see, it appeared to be remnants of a glass of wine. You could assume that it had been hurled at him along with the entire bottle it looked like.
“Don’t you fucking walk out on me, Raphael! GET BACK HERE!” The woman who’d thrown those things was screaming at him but he wasn’t turning back.
It was only when you heard the screen door slam shut that you dared call out to him. “Raph?”
He heard you, how could he not? Seconds later, he was swinging himself up to your balcony, whispering your name in surprise and looking ashamed at his appearance. He hurriedly brushed any remaining pieces of glass to the floor. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I just moved here.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached to grab his arm but stopped when you saw him physically tense up. What had happened to him? He used to be so strong in your eyes, and now he looked afraid to have you touch him.
Slowly, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you gently pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but notice that he just looked so angry and… broken.
“Are you okay?” You knew your concern was valid since he was quiet a long moment before answering.
“…I’m fine.” He was lying to you, and he hated himself for doing that. He regretted it the moment those two words left his lips.
Sucking in a breath you gently grabbed those huge biceps of his and met his troubled gaze. God, you’d missed those piercing green eyes of his. “You’re not fine Raph��� you’re covered in wine and…” You looked at his face, studying it more. “Does she… hit you?”
He turned away in shame as he tensed. “Doesn’t hurt none…”
You narrowed your gaze, your own anger rising up as you gave those arms a squeeze. “How often is she hitting you, Raph…?” Again, when he doesn’t answer right away your tone and your grip become harder. “How. Often?”
He spoke so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “A lot…” If he’s finally admitting it to someone, it should be you.
A lump was quickly forming in your throat as you realized what had been going on. What kind of relationship he’d been dealing with. Why he was so tense and unsure. How unhealthy it was and why you hadn’t heard from him in so long.
“Raph… that’s… abuse. She’s abusing you.” You whispered these words because it hurt you to say them any louder. You knew Raph would never lay a hand against a woman, but you never expected him to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing.
His first instinct was to argue against that. He bristled as he backed away out of your grasp, walls of defense shooting in place as he tried to deny it. That was ridiculous! Him being abused.
“No it ain’t! I’d know if I was… that’s fucking ridiculous!” He’d curled his hands into large fists, his shoulders hunched and slightly shaking with his denial.
You can feel him practically vibrating with humiliation and uncertainty. You say nothing more as you go to him and start gently rubbing his shell. You’d done this often for him when you both were younger. The action was soothing to him whenever he was angry and upset about something. When you finally felt him relax, you moved around to his front, hugging him tightly. A few tears slip down your cheeks, adding to the wine stains on his red hoodie. You felt absolutely broken for him.
“Please don’t say you’re fine Raph… not to me…” You attempted to swallow the lump and keep your tears at bay. “It’s okay… It’s okay to admit this is happening to you, and it’s okay to leave…” You choked out a sob. “It’s okay… to not be okay. I’m here for you.”
That was it. Finally, finally, the walls fall down as his arms came around you holding you so tight you could barely breathe. He’d been living a lie for so long, spent too many months with this appalling treatment, but seeing you, hearing that was all it took. The dam broke; he buried his face into your shoulder, shaking slightly as he finally allowed himself to break.
He was crying, you realized as he quietly sobbed, his own tears joining yours as you cried together. “It’s okay, big guy…” you choked out. “It’s gonna be okay…” You rubbed his shell as best you could, being an anchor for him in his time of need.
When he finally looked up, you could see his mask was damp, his expression vulnerable and unsure accompanied with shaky breaths. You suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Where had that come from? You two were just friends… right? Plus, this wasn’t the right time… he needed to get his head right and recover. You shook the thought away and took his hand, guiding him to your couch. “Take that off.” You softly ordered. “I’ll wash it.”
Too exhausted to fight or argue, he listened and removed both his red mask and hoodie. Gently, you took them and threw both items into your washing machine with laundry soap and oxyclean. Hopefully, that would be enough to remove the wine stains.
He relaxed into your couch and called for you. “C’mere.” The request was soft yet held a note of urgency. When you approached, he reached for you and pulled you onto his lap. “Jus’ wanna hold you,” he murmured, needing your comfort and closeness, something he’d been severely lacking in for a long time.
It was easy to melt into his embrace and wrap your arms around him in return. “I gotcha big guy…”
He held you quietly for a long time, just breathing in your scent and taking in your soft energy. This was the turning point, the sign he’d needed to make a permanent change in his life and cut that toxic woman out of his life. He hadn’t felt like he had the strength to do it previously, but with your support, now he did.
“Thank you… for bein’ here…”
“I’ll always be here for you Raph…”
True to his word, he’d made good on his decision to completely cut ties with her. There had been even more yelling and items being thrown at him, but he was done. Once he’d made up his mind, that was it. He was one hundred percent DONE. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to come back from it.
You were there waiting for him when he told you the news and were so happy and relieved or him. His brothers, in turn, were also relieved with Mikey even calling to thank you for being there for his big brother.
He visited you regularly, now having a much better reason to go to that same apartment building. The two of you slowly reconnected and started making up for lost time. You were a crucial part of his recovery and ended up being a major element in his support system. The feelings you had toward him from that fateful night had only grown stronger, but you wouldn’t act on them. You couldn’t, not until he was fully healed.
Raph had been realizing how wrong he’d been to let you go and had vowed to make it up to you. It was little things at first, stopping by after patrols with pizza, sending you a random meme that he hoped would make you laugh, and bringing you your favourite latte in the mornings. He was slowly coming to terms with how much he had missed this and how much he had missed you. This is what a healthy relationship looked like, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.
It was a few months later that it had finally hit him over the head that what he’d needed and what he truly wanted had been right in front of him all along. He saw you, and when he’d nervously confessed his feelings, he’d been absolutely elated when you’d told him you felt the same way.
That first kiss you two shared had been the pinnacle of his journey to healing.
Afterwards, you’d held him close and whispered these words.
“No one will ever hurt you again.”
Because you would make sure of it.
The End
@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus
@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28
@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs
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mias-back-from-the-dead · 4 months ago
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so this was a line in a fanfic I recently read but it has me fuckign crawling up the walls and watching D&W in a new light
it's part of a larger oh/oh moment paragraph rant wade goes on but the line is:
"I would have happily gone on assuming that this Wolverine is canonically a fuck machine who only sleeps with women ever and that I could hit on him to my dick’s content and never have to worry about the possibility of real rejection"
and that last line COMPLETELY reframed half of wade's actions for me in the movie.
Cuz on the surface level there's the hee-hoo deadpool hits on every single hero joke of it all, which is probably all the writers were thinking about when those lines and directions went onto the script. They needed the throughline of wade being seriously still hung up on vanessa for plot reasons but didn't want to give up all the ridiculous flirt jokes.
From a hollywood writer's perspective, the solution is an easy 'Okay, he flirts with dudes ONLY, no prob, there's a Logan shaped comedic 'straight man' for him to do that at for 90+minutes'
But like. There's Implications to that as a Choice, when you characterize a dude that's so rejection avoidant and purpose-seeking that an avengers' dismissal kills all motivation for putting the suit on at all.
Pointing affections at literally any direction other than people who MIGHT take him seriously. Flirt on his favourite heroes, antiheroes, maybe even a TVA employee or two instead. It isn't that he's not ACTUALLY into Colossus's giant metal ass or Logan's oiled up tits, I'm sure they rev the engines like anything else, but I'm super willing to explore the idea that he's way more comfortable in throwing himself in directions where the rejections aren't 'real' to him. If the writers never thought about that implication, I'm going with concept that Wade doesn't even realize he's doing it at all unless he's in a fanfic universe with a decent oh/oh moment.
It makes me wonder what style of bluescreen he'd go through the second Logan yes-and's in a way that might be interpreted as flirting back. It makes me think of the countless number of dudes he's hit on in the comics despite most of his longer-term relationships being with women. Don't get me wrong, I KNOW the Doylist perspective is likely that most writers go down the straight relationships, gay jokes avenue but it's SO much more interesting to play it watsonian here. it's just a really good fanfic direction to lean down, this fucker is made up of exactly 50/50 emotional anguish about rejection and shitpost dick humour and I just wanna read more works where they feed into each other instead of being tackled separately
HHHHHHh I dUNNO IF I KEEP WRITING IM JUST GONNA GO IN CIRCLES JUST GO READ THE FIC ^
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querenciasturniolo · 1 year ago
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This is such a random concept but can you write something to do with the triplets finding out you’re a fan of there’s (which is shocking cuz you’re a well known singer) and you guys finally meet up for a car video and Chris, who’s usually really talkative, gets really quiet and nervous and Matt and Nick catch on to why and they end up teasing him…
favorite ⮕ c.s.
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word count: 2.7k
warnings: swearing, teasing, she/her pronouns
summary: the triplets invite you to to do a video with them after a viral video at your last concert on tour, and teasing ensues when chris is awfully quiet for once
a/n: this one is a little longer, but only because i am awful at transitions and find way too much detail important. this was SO fun to write, i hope i did it justice 💓
{i am NOT calling fangirls losers, at all. i am a fangirl and a loser, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. i wrote y/n saying she was a loser bc i thought it was funny, carry on}
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
part one || part two
“You have stated multiple times before that you’re a fan of many people, whether they’re artists or creators of some sort. Any you’d like to mention?”
“The Sturniolo triplets, easy. They’re content creators; they make these car videos and they’re absolutely hilarious. I found them on Tiktok about a year ago, and I’ve been watching them ever since.”
A single answer to a question had your fans going absolutely ballistic.
It was your fault, of course, but you didn’t think they would act like this. In every one of your posts, more comments than not were about the triplets. You found it more funny than anything, knowing that your fans were just excited that you enjoyed the same things they did.
At the closing show of your tour, you had just finished your last song, and you looked out at the crowd one last time to realize that this wasn’t going to go away. A single sign in the crowd had you laughing and shaking your head.
DO A VIDEO WITH THE TRIPLETS
You pointed at the sign as you walked back to leave the stage. “The ball is in their court, now.” You said, the crowd going ballistic as you finally stepped off of the stage.
After that, it seemed radio silent for a while, but you had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. It had been only a few weeks since that show, and you were just hanging out at your apartment, one of your best friends sitting across from you on the couch.
“Y/n, have you seen this?”
You looked up from your phone and glanced at her screen, a video of your last concert playing. The sign was shown before it was turned around and the camera was on you. You saw you grin and laugh at the sign and point, saying what you said before. The moment you finished, you heard the fan scream and other screams around her completely fucking with the speaker.
“I mean, I remember that happening, but I haven’t seen the video, why?” You asked, handing her phone back to her. She raised her eyebrows and kept her phone screen facing you.
“It’s viral.”
Your eyes immediately went to the likes, and you were shocked to see there were over four million. “Holy shit.” You mumbled, your phone vibrating in your hand. You looked down, your jaw dropping when you saw the DM before you. “Holy shit!”
nicolassturniolo: hey! would you want to be in a car video??
You stared at the screen, completely speechless as you looked between the DM and your friend. “What the fuck do I say?” You asked, finally opening the message. She laughed from across from you and you couldn’t help but stare at her, completely bewildered.
“Say yes? It’s a pretty simple answer.” She said. You nodded your head and answered Nick quickly, asking him when they wanted to meet up. “How are you fangirling right now?”
You looked up again and frowned. “Because I’m a loser, obviously.” You said, your friend laughing and shaking her head as she dropped back down on her side of the couch.
You and Nick messaged back and forth, you finding out the details of the video and where they wanted to meet up. You decided tonight would be best for both of your schedules, and you were chomping at the bit to get ready and get there. You’d never done anything casual like this, only professional interviews and somewhat press-related conversations. You had no idea what was going to happen in this video, except for the general idea of it being a Q&A between the four of you.
Driving to the meetup spot had your entire body on high alert, excited to meet the triplets, but also terrified to do so. You were a fangirl at heart, but you refused to show it. You pulled into the parking lot, looking around for the van.
The moment you saw it, you took a deep breath and pulled up next to it, frowning and looking around at the desolate parking lot. Before you could even fully get out of the car, Nick was opening the back door of the van and waving at you. You grinned and shut your door, locking your car out of habit and heading towards the van.
“Hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Nick said, stepping out of the van and giving you a hug.
You chuckled and pulled away, shrugging your shoulders. “You too! I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as hell on the drive over.” You said, following Nick’s lead and climbing into the van after him, awkwardly climbing over him. You looked at Matt and Chris, your smile wide as you nodded in acknowledgement. “Hey.”
“Why were you nervous?” Matt asked, your cheeks heating up as you shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m a big fan, and extremely awkward, if you couldn’t tell.” You said, the three of them laughing and adjusting themselves to face you.
“It’s totally fine, you should have seen Nick before you pulled up.” Chris said, Nick’s jaw dropping to the floor as you looked over at him with a similar expression. The conversation mellowed out shortly after that, your nerves dissipating as you got more comfortable.
“Okay, so here’s our idea.” Nick started, your eyes meeting his immediately. “You hide behind Chris’ seat while we introduce the video, and when we say we have a special guest, you pop up and introduce yourself.” He finished. You nodded your head, fighting your smile as you wedged yourself between Chris’ seat and the seat you were sitting in on the floor.
“Matt, go check the camera.” Nick said. You covered your mouth to avoid laughing at the ensuing argument.
“Nick, why do you never check the fucking camera, this is ridiculous.” Matt grumbled, climbing out of the car to check it. Nick looked down at you, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. You snorted, and waited patiently for Matt to get back into the car.
“Alright. Today, we’re doing a Q&A, but we have a little surprise for everyone.” Chris said. He adjusted in his seat, you only knowing this because the movement pushed you into the other seat harshly. You couldn’t help but groan at the pressure of the seat against your side, smacking your hand over your mouth as Nick threw his head back and laughed.
“We have a special guest, if you couldn’t tell by Chris breaking her ribs. Come on out, reveal yourself.” Nick said. You shoved yourself out from behind the seat, your hand pressed against your side as the four of you laughed. “So, a video went viral of Y/n at one of her concerts challenging us to get her in a video.”
You scoffed and looked at Nick. “It wasn’t a challenge at all. Someone in the crowd had a sign that said I needed to be in a car video, and all I said was that the ball was in your court.” You defended playfully, Nick holding his hands up in mock defense. “I didn’t realize how insane that interview would go. I said I was a fan, and all of a sudden everyone was tagging me in your posts and telling me I needed to be in a video.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.
“Alright, introduce yourself to the video, and tell them if you have anything coming up, if you want.” You looked at Matt after he spoke, realization dawning on you as you nodded and finally looked at the camera.
“Oh, right. I’m Y/n. I just announced my new single Changes that comes out in a few days, go listen if you want.” You said, looking between the three of them to make sure that was alright. Chris chuckled and nodded, facing the camera and pulling his phone from his pocket.
“So, this Q&A is different for a few reasons. One; we have a special guest, which you already know. And two; we decided to ask her some questions, and she’s going to ask some questions that she has for us. We will be answering some fan questions as well, since we only came up with a handful of questions.” Chris said, Nick gesturing for him to speed up.
The video progressed with the four of you rapid fire asking questions about your careers and other random things, occasionally debating when someone said something the others thought was outrageous.
“How long have you been a fan of ours?” Chris asked. You met his eyes and felt your face heat up before you looked away quickly and shrugged.
“I saw a clip of one of your videos on Tiktok about a year ago, and looked that specific video up. It was the one where Nick’s yelling about a staff, I believe.” You said, Nick sighing and shaking his head.
Chris chuckled and nodded his head. “Nick yelling seems to be a common theme in people looking us up, so that makes sense.”
“When did you become a fan of mine?” You asked, Nick nearly dropping his drink as he put it into the cupholder. You laughed and braced yourself as Nick held up his hands.
“I found your first album by accident a few months after it came out, and I blasted it on repeat for weeks after that. I may have forced Matt and Chris to listen to it, but they fucked with it heavy, no matter what they say.” Matt rolled his eyes with a smile and grabbed his phone, scrolling through the questions.
“It’s not my type of music, but it definitely isn’t bad. The lyrics were definitely my favorite part, you’ve got a way with words.” Chris said, Matt nodding and meeting your eyes as well.
You blushed and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you, that means a lot. I always try to tell a story with my songs, so I’m glad that my lyrics show that.” Jesus, you couldn’t take a compliment to save your life.
A few more questions were asked and answered before Matt spoke up.
“This is a fan question; who’s your celebrity crush?” Matt read, dropping his phone into his lap and looking back at you. You looked up and thought for a moment before shrugging.
“I guess the easy answer is Ryan Gosling, or something, but I’m not exactly sure—oh! I take that back, Harry Styles for sure. I’d love to do a song with him, it’s been one of my dreams since I started making music.” You rambled, the three of them humming and nodding their heads. “What about you guys?”
Matt spoke first, his answer completely outrageous and out there. Nick refused to answer, and that’s when all three of you realized that Chris was silent. You looked at him, his eyes focused on the center console.
“Chris?” You asked. He looked up then, which is when you noticed his pink cheeks.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to answer this question, let's move on.” He said, turning to face forward again. You frowned and looked between Matt and Nick, who were staring at Chris confused.
“Why are you acting so weird—oh.” Nick said, the confusion on his face morphing into a sly smirk. “I see.” He said, looking at Matt. It took Matt a little longer to get there, but soon he was grinning and shoving Chris’ arm.
“Come on, Chris. Just say it.” He teased, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between all of them.
“I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but alright.” You said, turning your attention to Chris. He shook his head and looked over at Matt.
“I’m not saying it, just move on.” He said, an amused smile on his lips.
“Why? Is it because she’s in the car?” Nick asked. Your face heated up immediately, your eyes meeting Chris’ shocked gaze. Matt smacked his hand over his mouth to cover up the laugh that nearly knocked him forward.
“Nick, cut that out.”
Nick’s laughter rang through the van as he fell backwards in his seat and shook his head, Chris’ embarrassed chuckle pushing past his lips as he looked at you one more time.
“You could have denied it!” Matt finally said, all four of you completely losing it and doubling over. You’d never laughed so hard in your life, and you were glad you agreed to do this.
Chris sat up and wiped at his eyes, the remnants of his laughter still showing on his face as he shook his head. “I could have denied it, but I’m not a liar.” He said, avoiding your eyes completely as he took a sip of his Pepsi. “So yeah, my celebrity crush is Y/n, sue me.”
Your mouth went dry, not expecting him to say it out loud so bluntly.
“Okay! Next question!” Nick said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You shook your head and smiled as you waited for his question. He dropped his phone in his lap, a mischievous smile on his face as he gestured to you. “Who’s your favorite triplet?”
You groaned and threw your head back, looking forward again to see all three pairs of eyes glued to you intently. You blinked and looked between them, shaking your head when seeing their goofy smiles.
“I plead the fifth, absolutely not.” You said, all of them laughing and shaking their heads.
“Oh, come on! Just say it!” Matt said, resting his head on his hand and widening his eyes at you.
“No feelings will be hurt, just tell us.” Nick said, your eyes meeting his as you shook your head.
“It’s me, guys. It’s official.” Chris said, your head whipping in his direction. Your face felt like it was on fire as the silence continued and he held your gaze. Nick was the first to lose it, grabbing your arm as he dropped forward and laughed uncontrollably.
“What is with you two?! Just deny it or something!” He said, Matt and Chris joining in and covering their faces with their hands. You sighed and shook your head.
“I’m not a liar, either. Let’s move on.” You said, picking up your phone and going through your notes app.
“Favorite song, not just by me, any song in general.” You said, the conversation changing immediately. When everyone was done filming, you said your goodbyes and stepped out of the car. You weren’t expecting them all to jump out of the car as well.
“Do you mind taking a picture with us for our photo dump? It’s totally cool if not.” Nick asked.
“Oh! For sure, could I get a picture for my Instagram too?” They nodded, and you took a few pictures, some were serious and others were ridiculous. You each exchanged numbers, sending over the pictures that were taken on each of your phones. When the pictures were done and the four of you were just laughing at all of the photos, you looked at each of them. “I had a lot of fun! Thank you for having me.” You said, pulling Nick into a hug.
“Oh, of course! You should come hang out with us sometime, whenever you’re free.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and accepted the hug from Matt, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes met Chris’ after you pulled away.
He hesitated but shrugged his shoulders and held out his arms. You chuckled and walked towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Your heart was racing as you pulled away and smiled at him, hoping he didn’t notice the burning in your cheeks.
“Again, it was so nice to meet you. Text me if you ever want to make plans, okay?” You said, the three of them nodding and waving as you got into your car.
The drive back to your apartment was long, your exhaustion finally hitting you as you checked the dash and saw it was three in the morning. God, you were going to be exhausted at your meetings tomorrow. You finally pulled into the parking garage and got out of your car, locking the door as your phone vibrated in your pocket. It wasn’t until you laid in your bed and plugged in your phone that you checked the notification, your heart pounding as you read the text, a shocked laugh leaving your lips.
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planetdream · 1 year ago
Text
STRANGE DREAMS !
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CHARACTERS ! incubus/demon!hyunjin, reader
GENRE ! horror, smut [minors dni]
WORDS ! 7.8k [more or less]
SYNOPSIS ! sometimes, you meet a strange man in your dreams. this is one of those times.
THIS FIC CONTAINS ! edible-fueled writing. horror [gore—body horror: descriptions of blood and mutilated bodies. frightening figures and situations. description of drowning. nightmares and sleep paralysis. demons, and thus], references to biblical lore [christianity] and small references to milton's paradise lost [if you squint], and smut [dubcon—sexual manipulation and sex pollen, sorta. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possession/corruption. vaginal and anal sex. pussy and face slapping. teasing. fingering. spit. squirting. face fucking. degradation. strength kink sorta. sex with a demon—in demon form. monster cock. lots of cum]
⚠️ if you’re sensitive to gore, be advised before reading. i tried to be tame and brief with descriptions, and although i consider it to be light gore, i understand everyone has their limits. so proceed with caution.
💌 posting this earlier than originally planned cuz why not!! got the idea for this fic a year ago after an edible. it’s very weird n self indulgent but i’m glad i finally finished it !! i hope someone enjoys it <3 i always appreciate feedback !!
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You’re certain that it’s the sky you’re gazing into—though, you’re unsure because your vision is unclear, a milky haze clouding your pupils—but the longer you look at it, the more it spins and distorts, bringing on nausea that rises in waves from the pit of your stomach to the top of your head. The nausea brings on a discomfort; dryness in your mouth and a straining in your eyes, and because of that, you’re left with no choice but to close your eyes and let your other senses take over. Darkness surrounds you, and it feels like you have risen into the sky, despite grass being beneath you, and it’s soft, comfortable; almost like you could sink deeper into it before reaching the hard, frigid dirt. You grab the blades of grass with a tight fist, tugging on it, but still unwilling to pull it out as if you would cause harm. Then, the grass all around you becomes apparent—alive—moving against your skin in a response back to you. It tickles all over, building the realization that you lay naked in the grass, though unwilling to get up or cover yourself; lost within the pure contentment of the situation. 
There is a wave that sways over you—hot, heavy, and harsh, yet not too overbearing in its nature. You don’t know why, but there’s a sense of familiarity about when you are. It’s as if you’ve been here before, a distant memory that both chills and warms you. 
Along with the burbling sound of water pouring into itself, the smell of water whisks in the cool breeze—slightly sweet, green and alluring; whistling your name, calling out for you to come over. The whispering is intriguing, full of temptation but slightly melancholic; no words need be said, yet you understand the language of the waters. The whispers are loud, blaring; not in the sense of volume, but by how jarring it is—unlike anything you’ve heard and yet, it’s something you feel so acquainted with, like a long-time friend. The water cries, begging for you to bathe within it or drink from it and promises a sweet taste that could be comparable to honey and lemons. 
When you open your eyes again, everything is clear. The plants around you are breathing, communicating through the whistles of the wind; and just like the water, the plants cry out as well. Though, the cries of the flowers and trees are far different from the cries of the water. The cries of the water nearby sing a great harmony of promise and belief, whereas, the cries of the many trees screech of terror and agitation. They warn of what horrors can be witnessed here, of what great dangers are lurking within them. A sweet song of catastrophe. The flowers, however,—with captivating colors unlike anything you’ve ever seen, yet familiar; like the names of them are on the tip of your tongue, begging to be acknowledged and praised—cry differently. It’s a murmur most comparable to the feeling of silk against your hands, but also the feeling of goosebumps after a close encounter with something you shouldn’t have crossed paths with. A comfortable discomfort. 
You look around, fully taking in the picture of what presents itself around you. There are butterflies varying in size and species—they sing as well, something similar to a war cry; morbid and haunting, though still beautiful and in great faith. Dragonflies buzz around, securing their place and status within the area. So much life here—at peace in this paradise. There’s some kind of haze or mist in the air, silent and still, tranquil. The sun is bright, blazing hot and practically piercing, yet despite the warmth, the air is slightly cool. The sight of your surroundings further cements your previous feelings of familiarity. Yet it also uncovers sheer discomfort. Yes, the area is familiar, but there’s something unsettling and distinctly different about it. A discomfort layering in the air, horribly beautiful and homely, but pandemonium is lurking, lurched and hidden within the shadows of this seeming paradise. 
You roll over in the grass—laying on your stomach and lifting your head to see beyond what you could before. Not too far from your current position is a waterfall, continuing its whispers. The spring below is surrounded by unusual pink flowers and huge rocks covered in thick, green and yellow moss. Before you can process it, you’re on your feet and moving towards the spring. Once there, you kneel, gazing at your reflection in the waters. It’s almost too much to process but it’s you. It is you and yet it’s like the face you wear does not belong to you. Uncanny and off putting. 
Movement. On your left, deep in the periphery of the spring. Your eyes shift, tracking whatever chooses to present itself. A swan. Elegant and pristine. It cranes its neck, beak pointing towards you in acknowledgment. You make full eye contact, and a chill runs up your spine causing your hair to stand on edge. An inflamed feeling of danger sparks within you, and before you have time to fight or run as far away as possible—“There you are!” 
The voice comes from your right, but when you look in that direction, there’s nothing there.  “So this is where you ran off to.”
The physical energy of the presence behind you is familiar, but strikingly overwhelming—it crawls up your skin like sharp nails, giving you goosebumps—you don’t need to turn around to recognize it. It’s Him. You’re unsure of what he is, exactly, but sometimes you meet him in your dreams. Though deep down you know that his existence and connection to you reaches well beyond the odd worlds of your dream realm. When he touches you, your surroundings change. The waterfall that you were once at is yards away, tiny in perspective. Despite having not moved an inch, it seems that every time you blink, you’re further and further into the woods; trees surrounding you and most certain to bury any noises emitted within their leaves.
The rustling of the tree leaves sounds like a screech, almost like sharp nails against a chalkboard—sinking deep and clashing, scraping out the porcelain enamel. The sound alone affects your brain, echoing in your mind, blaring enough to make you hold your hand against your head. The sound stops once he presses his hand against your cheek—so cold it feels like burning fire, almost scalding enough to melt off your skin; but you do not flinch, nor do you back away, frozen in place. The feeling of his skin against yours evokes an emotional aching so deep, you can feel it festering in the pit of your stomach, spreading to your organs and seeping into your veins—and somehow there is comfort in that. 
He’s speaking, and while you’re unable to make out the words he is saying, you can tell that his voice is soft, pillowy like a cloud. Honey-laced words dipping from his tongue as if he’s trying to convince or ask something of you. You avert your gaze, unsure of if you actually want to meet his eyes. 
His presence scares you just as much as it calms you. Intriguing, and homely but also frightening and domineering despite simply just standing there. Something about his demeanor feels off, or distorted, at the very least, as if he’s not actually in front of you. As if he was a result of your imagination instead of directly in your eyes view. He’s real, a hand against your skin, almost close enough for you to feel his breath lightly against your skin; and at the very least, he knows you. You know him, too, you think; of course, you’ve seen him in your dreams, but you’re inclined to believe you know him from somewhere else. 
“Where are we?” You ask him, avoiding eye contact, shaking away from the contact his hand makes with you. Jarringly, it doesn’t feel like you said anything at all. Your mouth was moving and the words presented themselves in your mind and yet you can’t hear a single thing you’re saying. The familiar fire within your throat when you speak is no longer there. 
“The Garden. It’s perfect here, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile, seemingly understanding your indistinct confusion. Then, as he speaks up again, his voice drips with something resembling woe. “You and I used to live here a long time ago. I visit every so often, dip my legs into that spring back there, and then I reminisce on how pure life was back then before…” 
You think he’s talking again, but once again, you’re unable to hear him. You’re too busy lost in his face. The urge to press your lips against his gets stronger as you’re next to him. Then you realize he’s naked as well, and your entire body gets warmer. There’s a budding ache inside you that’s all too familiar, growing at a rapid pace. It’s almost like your body is on fire as a result of being within his presence. Hormones floating, hair standing on edge, your more sensual and raw instincts ready to unveil and latch onto him at any time. Head hurting the longer you’re in his presence until it all just stops. 
Everything stops. The trees are no longer rustling, birds no longer humming. There’s no splashing of the waterfall nor whistling in the wind. Just pure silence. The silence is uncomfortable, and causes you to stand still in your tracks like a deer, scared that if you make any sudden moves a predator might attack within the blink of an eye; jumping on you and tearing you apart in a bloody mess of flesh and organs flying everywhere, painting the fallen deep green leaves a perfect contrast of crimson. 
“Run,” He says. There’s nothing in his voice; no emotion nor a slight hint at what he’s thinking. But the word echoes in your mind, and sends a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge in either curiosity or total blood curdling fear. 
“What do you mean?”
“You need to run,” His voice drops lower. “And don’t get caught.”
So you turn your heels and you run, not willing to ask him twice. Unsure of the direction you’re going in, but the further you seem to travel, the more that discomfort begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You pick up the pace—one foot in front of the other, careful not to trip over yourself—but a small part of you isn’t sure if the danger that you’re sensing is real or just a part of a sick and twisted game. Instead of running away from the source of your terror, it seems as though you’re running towards it, no matter the direction you run. Twigs and leaves snapping and crunching beneath your feet, but it causes you no pain. In fact, the only thing you can feel in the moment is the thumping of your heart and every single milliliter of blood marching through your vessels.
You admittedly don’t make it too far before you’re cowering, ducking against a large tree. Heart racing with such speed that you’re almost positive it would break free of your ribcage, piercing its way out of your chest. The tree, however, as quickly as you found it, is no longer a place of solace, as you hear a long, loud, and deep growl to your left. The deep guttural sound echoing, slicing through the trees like machetes. You’ve got to move, but you fear that if you do, whatever it is that made that sound, might attack, ripping you to shreds before you’ve even got a chance to exhale. There’s a roar once again, this time uncomfortably closer to your hiding place. You stand still, and the surrounding area of the forest is suddenly extremely silent. No rustle of leaves or echoes of birds, but a loud silence accompanied by a buzzing noise; like a horde of flies marching their way towards you. 
“Hyunjin,” You call out. The name slips from your mouth with ease, as if you’ve been calling him by that name all along. In the blink of an eye, just as you exhale his name, your surroundings change; suddenly submerged in water. 
You emerge from the cold water, barely having time to register your surroundings before you’re being forced back into the water; claw-like hands scraping into your scalp, sharp and heavy against your skull. It’s hard to make your way above the water because of the forceful weight and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath is useless due to the water infiltrating your lungs. You’re flailing and thrashing around, arms lifting—hands curling into a claws, attempting to grab onto something, only to slash through the water—and legs kicking mindlessly, trying to escape what is uncertain; heart rate accelerating as panic fully sets in. This seems to go on for nearly fifteen minutes, being edged by death over and over; blacking out then awakening time and time again. Vision blocked by the salty darkness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to end.
Abruptly, you’re dragged upwards by your hair, back falling harshly against rock, helping you cough up the water in your throat. It feels like it takes minutes for you to learn how to breathe again, attempting to do that and calm down enough to assess your surroundings. You’re coughing so much you think you might cough up an intestine, throat burning with each assault, chest sinking and expanding and then sinking again. It takes many moments of coming back to yourself that you notice that there is no rough hand against your scalp. Alarmed, moving around frantically, backing up toward the closest stone wall. Scanning the area, there’s no human nor animal, nor creature of any nature in sight. Not even a single insect. Not even Hyunjin.
You lean over, though not too far in case history repeats itself, to peer into the water; there isn’t even a single fish, as far as you can tell, the waters quickly descending into a vast, black pit of the unknown. Overhead, the sky that was once shining brightly now dimming rather quickly, accompanied by dark, angry clouds. The winds pick up, swirling atop of the trees, emitting a drawn out whistle comparable to wind chimes; of which you can surprisingly hear over splashing and sputtering of the nearby waterfall. Large roars of thunder stomping in, but no lightning accompanies it. You begin to curl into yourself, attempting to shield yourself from whatever is out there, nature or otherwise.
You close your eyes for five simple seconds, and when you open them, Hyunjin is right next to you. He doesn’t notice you’re awake at first until you shift, catching his attention. He turns to you and you avert your eyes from him. He’s talking but it’s all inaudible, unimportant. Something about his presence in this moment is unsettling. Slightly off from the initially odd behavior he’d be exhibiting. You just nod to his words. “Found you like this about an hour ago. You shook so hard until you stopped and fell asleep.” 
Hyunjin holds out a hand for you, which you’re hesitant to grab, but the next thing you know, you’re standing slowly; legs shaking as you attempt to regain strength. You hold onto his arm for extra support, slightly struggling in your steps as he leads you, hand in hand, towards a small cave hidden behind the pour of the waterfall. It’s hardly a hike, but Hyunjin makes sure you get to the other size carefully. “The rocks are slippery. You’ve had a few accidents here before.”
A lot of Hyunjin’s words are vague. Referrals to past events involving the two of you, all of which you cannot remember. There’s a feeling that you’ve been here before, but you’re unable to prove it, or make those connections other than your gut feeling and Hyunjin’s comments. 
You’re hesitant to walk into the cave, the inside being pitch black. Hyunjin walks in before you, completely fearless, as if there is no potential danger. At the snap of a finger, there’s suddenly a fire going on within the cave. From you place you can see how the fire illuminates Hyunjin’s figure just a bit, and as you walk closer—finding a bit more comfort now that you can see, and because you know Hyunjin is there waiting for you, willing to guide you into and protect you from the unknown—you admire how the flames of the fire accentuates Hyunjin’s facial features. He was made by God, sculpted from the finest clay and molded into an individual with otherworldly beauty. Hyunjin holds a torch-like stick, fire blazing at the tip of it, used as momentary safety. “I know somewhere we can go.”
He then points into the deep darkness of the cave. You don’t want to go deeper into the cave. Right where you stand is just fine, and most importantly, it’s safe. Hyunjin reads the hesitant look that’s displayed on your face, but he urges you. “You’ve got me, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” 
And his smile, as beautiful and perfect as it is, seemed crooked, faked for just a moment. He holds out his hand, and without even thinking about it, you take his hand in yours as if you had no choice despite the unease boiling inside of you. His smile curves up again and he turns his head, now guiding you down the cold, dark cave. 
The entire time you’re walking, there’s nothing. Hyunjin doesn’t speak and neither do you. The walls on either side all appear the same, dirt colored and oddly smooth, with not even a small crater to make a difference. No matter how long you walk, nor how far, the dark pit continues into nothingness, an upsetting kind of emptiness. Despite Hyunjin being next to you, despite holding his hand, he’s like a stone wall. He makes no effort to speak, nor to even acknowledge you in the slightest despite leading you somewhere, it’s like you’re nothing but a mere bug, nothing to stress about or keep entertained. You feel nothing but loneliness at the pit of your stomach; the only things keeping you company are the thumping of your feet against the ground and the flickering of the flame Hyunjin holds. 
It’s a long time of walking before you realize that this cave is actually a tunnel. The tiny white dot of light grows bigger and bigger with every step taken. It feels like forever until you and Hyunjin reach the end of the tunnel. When you do, you’re happy to see light again. The sky now bright and blue, prohibiting any angry clouds of heavy rain. Air fresh and inviting, free of any worry and apprehension. Whatever doubts or dreadful feelings once felt before are now completely an afterthought. 
“C’mon let’s go.” Hyunjin discards the torch, dragging you with him by your hand, grip tight against you. 
He leads you over to a flower field where flowers ranging in color, size, and species reside. The field is colorful, bright and happy, like a source of glee. Inviting you over by whisper—maybe it’s a honey-filled hum—so sweet and kind. The deeper you walk into the flower field, you notice how enticing the air smells—sweet like a pastry, yet fresh like petrichor. The longer you and Hyunjin walk, hand and hand, the more at ease and loose you feel, almost drunk, mouth welling up with excess saliva. The two of you eventually reach a point to rest, laying on the grass, no words exchanged between you two. Simply just basking in the sun, deeply breathing in the fragrance of the nature that surrounds you. 
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There’s a passage of time before you start to feel it; an itch that’s tempting you to scratch; a sudden burst in fire. A fire that begins at the pit of your stomach and continues to your core, flaring; spreading further throughout your body in static-like jolts. Your breaths change from relaxed and soft, quiet, to heavy and noticeable; and suddenly the atmosphere feels hotter, small beads of sweat collecting against your forehead. You shift, rubbing your thighs in effort to satiate your sudden cravings, wanting to grind your hips up in search of friction. Growing more desperate and needy by the second. 
This is when you look towards Hyunjin, rolling onto your stomach, head resting in your hands as you gaze up at his sitting form; and you actually notice him. You notice his nakedness, every single inch of him on display. He’s like a god, with his honey-like skin that glows and glistens in the sunlight. Toned and defined arm and thigh muscles that flex with nearly every movement he makes. He was meant to be admired, made to be worshiped—having men and women alike kneeling at his feet and imploring him to fuck and defile them. If only you knew how much he agrees. These thoughts almost embarrass you, yet they feel so natural. And your eyes drip lower to admire Hyunjin’s more intimate parts. Cock hanging low, thick, and you’re not too sure if he’s hard or not but he’s big. Mouth watering as you admire his dick: the natural curve to it, how there’s three thick, prominent veins that disperse along his shaft (at least from what you can see at this angle) that are pulsing, just begging for your tongue to roll over them. 
You’re pulled away from your fantasy when Hyunjin clears his throat. With an eyebrow raised and a glimmer in his eye, he gives a small smile to you, softly, “You need something from me?”
“Maybe,” You wink at him. You sit up to face him, hand making contact with his knee, fingertips trailing up and down his thigh in a teasing matter. You get a little closer to him, skin against skin, eyes fixated on his cock as your fingertips dance against his inner thigh.
That’s when Hyunjin kisses you, lips soft and plump; and when he presses them against your lips you feel like you're in heaven. At first, your lips barely touch, meeting in small pecks, sweet kisses that eventually deepen into something desperate. The kisses are open mouthed, wet and sloppy, Hyunjin’s tongue makes its way into your mouth naturally, exploring inside of you. The kiss only breaks a few times; when you place your hands flat against Hyunjin’s chest, pushing away slightly just to get air. Each time the kiss breaks, Hyunjin smiles with a small chuckle, licking his lips before leaning in again, forehead pressed to yours. 
You break the kiss once more, now focusing more on Hyunjin’s cock. Spitting onto your hand and wrapping it around his shaft, squeezing lightly. Tight fist working up and down Hyunjin’s length, biting your lip when you feel him twitch within your hand. He bites his lip, holding back a moan. Hyunjin stops you before you get too deep into it, instead choosing to take the lead. 
Hyunjin plants another kiss to your lips before kissing down your neck, trying his best to take his time to really savor you, but he soon grows impatient. Pushing you down flat against the grass. Quick, wet kisses in several places down your body before he plants one last kiss right above where he really wants to be. There, he wastes no time getting to work, tongue slithering out almost snake-like to lick against your cunt. He really takes in the first taste of his meal, wetness sitting against his tongue, practically melting in his mouth, he moans. He dives in once again, lips and tongue against your cunt, licking and sucking and moaning; fully savoring you. 
“Taste so fucking good,” He breathes once to come up for air, not that he actually needs it. Continuing to lap at your cunt, lips kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. Hands coming to your thighs to grip, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. 
You grind against his face, hands instinctively going to his hair, fingers tangling within it and pulling with eagerness. Hyunjin groans into you at the slight sting of you pulling at his hair. Tongue not letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you get a break from the feeling of him against you. His mouth domes around your clit, sucking you in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. Mid arch, Hyunjin slips two fingers into you. Slight sting as he stretches you out, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. 
Soon planting open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally. Between Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers, in combination with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, it’s all too overwhelming. Cunt clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, which Hyunjin promptly gives. Fingers fucking into you faster, his other palm pressing down directly against your pelvis. 
It’s all too much, but you don’t want it to stop. The feeling of your impending orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it. Tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. The tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches your face contort. Body stiffening within his hold, unallowed to thrash around, only able to take what he’s giving you. Though unable to completely relax into it, fighting off the feeling of eventual bliss. 
Hyunjin lets out a breathy moan at your defiance. Thumb massaging your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. Hyunjin finally gets you to relax into his touch, into the feeling of temptation fully engulfing your soul. That’s when it takes over. Your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out cracked moans. Chest getting hot, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. Yet your body is only laid out in the grass, legs spread wide for him, as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over Hyunjin’s forearm and thighs. Tongue desperately trying to lap up whatever he can as his fingers slip away from your cunt. The palm of his hand coming down against your sore cunt once, making you moan out and close your thighs, back arching, pain stinging in the best possible way that leaves you aching for more. Not fully satisfied. 
Hyunjin is kneeling over you now, a large hand around his cock. Angry red tip all pretty and glossed with precum that dares to fall onto your skin like delicious raindrops. His cock twitches in his hand, blood rushing, pulsing in the veins that decorate his shaft. It all just makes you think about finally having his cock in you. The burning of the stretch, the feel of him reaching places that haven’t been accessed before, not to mention the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, ounce by ounce. 
When Hyunjin pushes into you, you nearly lose your breath, caught in a long inhale. He’s nice enough to push into you slowly, but it’s only because he wants to savor the feeling (though, Hyunjin fully intends to use you however he wants for as long as he pleases). His cock is thick, stretches you beyond anything you’ve experienced before; though instead of being painful, your body is laced, wrapped in pleasure, and the sensation of thrill rushes through your veins. You spread your legs further apart, welcoming more of Hyunijn, hoping that he pushes into you deeper; overcome with desire and want. 
“So fucking wet,” Hyunjin pins his cock deeper into you, pulling out quickly, teasingly. “Need more of me?”
You nod frantically, bottom lip slipping away from the clutches of your teeth. When you look up at Hyunjin, his eyes are fixated on your cunt. Tongue peeking out of his mouth, swirling over his bottom lip, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyebrow. He’s concentrated, breathing so heavily that he almost begins emitting an inhumane growl, but he dials it back quickly. Instead of pushing all of his length inside of you, Hyunjin pulls out completely, tapping the head of his dick against your cunt, sliding his cock from left to right against your clit. You watch as he does this, listening to the pornographic sound of your wetness, cunt clenching around nothing, just begging to finally be filled. 
“Please…” You find yourself begging. Eyebrows strung together as you rock your hips up and down, trying to catch Hyunjin’s cock only for him to move away, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hand comes down harsh against your cunt in succession, serving as a warning. 
“So cockhungry, can’t you be patient?” Hyunjin continues his tease, repeated light slaps against your cunt with his dick. His cock is replaced by his hand, two fingers dragging down from your clit to your slit, thrusting them into you quickly. Two fingers are replaced by three, and three, by four. He moves quickly, tips of his fingers curled and hitting exactly where you need them. He fucks your moans out of you, reveling in the way that your cries spill out just like the wetness of your cunt, and he’s barely doing anything but fingering you. And you’re this fucked up, melting into his fingers, giving him nearly everything he wants. “Always so pathetic and slutty.”
Agreements slip from your mouth, just in hopes that he’ll give you what you need if you’re good for him. Hyunjin just laughs at you, you’re certainly the cutest plaything he’s had—he knows he’s got to take his time with you. Almost wanting to slip his thumb inside of you as well, Hyunjin decides against it, continuing to fuck you with four of his fingers, still unrelenting in his pace. You, however, are lost for words; taking every ounce of what Hyunjin is giving you. A burning sensation rising in the pit of your stomach, hips rising from the ground, but Hyunjin never stops. Even when you’re leaking all over him, thighs shaking and threatening to close around his arm, he doesn’t stop fucking his fingers into you; not until he’s sure he’s got every ounce from you. Cum dripping down his arm as he takes and takes from you, forcing you to squirt all over him and yourself once again. Sliding his fingers out of you with yet another slap against your cunt.
His hand is around his cock again—wet with your cum, smearing it all over his cock—squeezing at its base as he brings his tip to your entrance. But he teases again, merely slapping his cock against your cunt. You arch into him, grinding your hips against his cock but Hyunjin makes no notice of you and your antics. Eventually getting bored, pulling his cock away from you. 
“Kneel,” He speaks curtly, standing. However, you do not move fast enough for his liking. “Don’t make me have to do it for you.” 
He does anyway. Grabbing you by the hair, dragging you up and forcing you onto your knees, skin grinding into the grass, sure to have bruises on them. Hyunjin’s hand stays in your hair, tugging as his free hand wraps around his cock. He yanks your head to the side, proceeding to slap his cock against your cheek, precum oozing from the tip. 
“Open.” He says, and you promptly follow his instructions. “Looks like I’ve got a smart one.” 
Hyunjin spits into your mouth, globs of saliva coating your tongue. His cock closely follows, dipping the tip in and out of your mouth quickly. He shifts, though, choosing to slide his entire length into your mouth, lips closing around him; but Hyunjin doesn’t allow it. Cock sliding out of your mouth, resulting in Hyunjin slapping you on the cheek with it again; saliva and cum sticking to your cheek. “Keep your mouth open wide.”
You adjust for him, just wanting to be able to take him and satisfy his cravings. He slides his cock back into your mouth, fully, giving minimum time to adjust to neither his speed nor his size. Mouth stretched to capacity, jaws aching and burning but Hyunjin is completely relishing in all the gagging and choking you do. You’re getting dizzier the longer his dick is in your mouth, tip kissing, nearly ramming, the back of your throat due to Hyunjin’s pacing. You feel like you’re on fire but yet you’re still able to relax into it. It isn’t long before you start moaning around his cock, absentmindedly rocking your hips back and forth whenever you taste a hint of the salty sweet substance. Hyunjin then pulls out, saliva spilling all over your chin and connecting in tiny stings to his cock. Smacking your cheek with his cock another three times, erupting in a full belly laugh, smiling at the way you’re just a completed fucked out mess, barely registering a thing he’s doing or saying to you. 
“Look at that,” Hyunjin releases you from his clutches. He pushes you back by your shoulder, making you catch yourself from falling back with the palms of your hands. When you look down, you’re completely soaked, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the ground, pooling messily onto a leaf, spilling off of its edges and soaking into the dirt beneath it. “Fucking filthy little mess you’ve made. Cunt just begging to be fucked, huh?” 
The question is rhetorical but you still nod; even going as far as to whine a little bit, hips moving seemingly without your control. Hyunjin takes pleasure in this small action, kneeling down to your level. He licks his fingers, noting that he doesn’t need to at all, and swipes them over your clit, one, two times before his ring and middle finger are sliding into your cunt. Fingertips meeting the exact place you need them each time he slides them into you. You’re clenching around his fingers now, and Hyunjin licks his lips, pulling away from you.
“Turn around.” You obey, turning on your hands and knees, swinging your ass in the air. He continues with his teasing, and at this point you’re nearly sobbing, wondering if he’ll ever actually give you what you want. Pathetic chants and whines spilling from your mouth as you push your ass against Hyunjin, unable to control yourself; thinking with your cunt instead of your brain. 
Hyunjin spits down onto you, and you can feel the glob of spit slide down from your asshole to your cunt, tickling its way down your clit. Hyunjin, though, slides the head of his cock from your clit, upwards, collecting his spit and your wetness in the process. He teases the tip at the rim of your tight hole, teasing at it. But when you push your ass towards Hyunjin, he pulls away, tsk-ing in the process. 
“Silly little play thing,” Hyunjin gives a cold, almost threatening laugh. “I think I need to teach you a lesson on patience, hm?” 
The threat has you pleading with him, repeated apologies dancing off your tongue, ultimately not acknowledged. Hyunjin loves to hear the sounds of your begs and pleads, but ultimately, the words you say do not matter to him—it all means nothing. Hyunjin marches at the beat of his own drum, and in situations like this, when he’s got a perfect piece of flesh like you beneath him, everything that he says, goes. And right now, he’s perfectly fine with teasing you over and over and over again. 
Slapping his cock against your cunt once, twice, Hyunjin slightly pushes the head of his cock against the rim of your ass. He continues applying pressure, fixated on stretching out the perfectly puckered hole. You whine at the feeling, slowly inching away from it, but Hyunjin holds your hips still. Pushing and pushing, slowly, until finally he slides the head of his cock into your tight hole. Hyunjin moans out at how your hole tightens around him, welcoming him inside. He does nothing, just stays like that, moaning and ignoring your pleas for him to do something. It’s not until you feel the side of his hand brush up against you cunt that you realize Hyunjin has got a hand around his shaft, getting himself off while the tip of his cock is in your ass and you’ve got nothing to do except for lay there and accept it, with your ass in the air and your face against dirt. 
His moans increase as he fucks his hand around his cock faster; and if it werent for his other hand holding you in place, you’d at least try to fuck back on him through the stretch of the pain. As Hyunjin exhales, letting out a deep groan of a moan, you feel the rush of warm liquid shooting into you. You moan in response as Hyunjin makes a mess of you with his cum, filling you up, trying to keep it all inside until he pulls out and it all, inevitably, leaks out of your hole, pooling around your cunt. 
Hyunjin wastes no time, cock sliding into your cunt with ease due to your wetness and his cum; but the stretch is intense, more than you initially expected. You tighten up a bit, resisting, though you want to relax. You can’t hold your arch perfectly any longer but that’s the least of your worries—the only thing on your mind being cock. Hyunjin slides another inch into you. Maybe it’s because of all the teasing, or the fact that you’ve already cum twice, but he’s not even halfway inside of you and it feels like he’s reached the depths of your soul already. His hand reaches around, fingers coming in contact with your clit in hopes of helping you ease up. 
“Created just for me,” Hyunjin breathes out, voice rough with possession. “Made just for me. Only me.” 
He continues with his ownership of you, voice dipping deeper as his words become mostly obscenities. You don’t hear it. Or perhaps you can’t hear it. Maybe you don’t want to hear the vile things he’s saying. You’re overtaken, caught up by the intense, high pitch ringing that is worming its way through your ear canal, planting and fertilizing clashing waves of static all around your brain. 
His hand wraps around your neck. It feels nothing like the soft, once heavenly hands that had been massaging all over your skin. These hands are rough, calloused and rigid palms that venture into freakishly long, boney fingers; with nails like claws that pierce into the side of your neck right behind your ear. Your eyes remain closed, fearing that if you open them that you’ll see something you shouldn’t, something that your mind would be unable to comprehend visually. A feeling of spiritual discomfort crawls up your back, causing you to arch, shivering at the same moment Hyunjin works his cock deeper into you, stretching you further; mentally and physically—of which he insists on doing, wanting to bend you to his will and break you beyond anything you’ve experienced. 
Hyunjin pulls you back to him, hips unrelenting. Teeth, sharp like razors, piercing down into the flesh of your shoulders; nearly enough for blood to start trickling down your skin, but that does not occur. His teeth, however, do leave indents in your skin; that, if he’s lucky enough, will be permanent. His lips meet your ear next, a brief kiss planted to the lobe before whispering in a rather gruff voice, unlike that of his usual. “Inferior to me. Mine to claim.” 
When he cums there’s an immense amount of it, sticky and warm. Hyunjin makes sure to be fully buried inside of you, cock seemingly swelling in size as he forces you to take all his cum inside. Hyunjin is selfish, not waiting a single moment, and barely pulling out before he begins to thrust back in. Cum coats his cock, almost daring to drip onto the ground in raindrop-like shapes. He refuses to allow that, however, fucking all of his cum back into you. His thighs, which originally felt like the silkiest, softest flesh, now coarse and dry—except for the sticky cum running down them, connecting in slightly thick, white lines against your thighs—and fuzzy; thick. “Mine to possess.”
You slowly come to realize that Hyunjin has taken a different shape completely. No longer possessing the body of a man, he has turned into some kind of beast, something inhuman. He’s grown abnormally in size and you can tell because he’s holding you up as he fucks you, toes barely scraping the dirt. 
And as filthy and as frightening as it is, the line between fear and arousal is a very thin, blurry line. It leads you to come crashing down, partially due to the overstimulation, cunt spasming around Hyunjin’s cock, sucking in all his cum. You’re elated, completely delighted, mind elsewhere as you experience your high with Hyunjin fucking you through it. Hardly registering anything other than the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock stretching you out and the warmth of his cum—a sticky mess that’s leaking out both of your holes and staining your thighs. 
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When you come to, you’re laying on Hyunjin’s chest. It’s still daylight out, the sun beaming as bright as ever, nearly blinding when you open your eyes. It takes a few moments to shake away the pure, drowsy euphoria you’re feeling, completely ravished by bliss; almost hypnotized. You prop your head up to look at Hyunjin, and the moment you do, it’s like there are trumpets sounding off all around you. You have a realization—no, a revelation—that things aren’t as they seem as you peer up at the brown-haired man. As queasiness makes a home in the pit of your stomach, all within two mere seconds, the wind picks up; howling in the distance, bustling within the branches of trees. 
“This is a dream, isn’t it?” For what might be the first time, your eyes meet his.
What words can be used to describe what you saw when you looked into the eyes of that thing? Petrifying? Nauseating? Surreal? It makes you want to close your eyes, however, when you do, the images you’ve seen seem as though they’ve been permanently printed against the black of your eyelids. Perhaps you can attempt to run away—and hide, praying to God that you’re not stalked and caught—but your muscles don’t respond to the neurons being sent by your brain. Perhaps you can find a way out of this dream, but your physical body seemingly refuses to acknowledge the call to wake up; only processing the utter fright in the images it created. The only thing you can do is stare into Hyunjin’s eyes, continuing to receive visions of which you hope you’ll be able to forget. 
His irises are a deep pool of black, displaying a particular flavor not only of loneliness but utter wickedness. The longer you stare into Hyunjin’s eyes the longer you are disillusioned, fully snatched away from all delusion of this former fairytale. Vision clouded by a thick, murky fog; fully spotlighting the shocks of visions you see in his eyes. 
A beast, creature unlike anything you’ve ever seen or imagined. The face of a man only oddly elongated with empty eye sockets and horns—covered in blood that only makes a mop of its fine hair—curled up into two spikes atop his head. A smile so wide it’s like it was carved in with a razor blade and charred, blackened and blood stained fangs hanging from its mouth. Its body, with its abnormally long limbs, is completely drenched in blood, dripping in pools all around the entity. Pieces of what you can only assume is a human—or even worse, you—discarded and littered around it without much thought or care. 
Flesh. Human meat. Limbs and bones and the insides—intestines, livers and hearts and muscle—all around you as this vision becomes reality; suddenly finding yourself within one meter of this monstrosity. The pool of blood coming up to your ankles, rising steadily. Pieces and pieces of the now deceased all around you, entirely mangled and minced. The creature holds pieces of meat within its claws, sharp nails piercing into the gray flesh, bits of meat stuck between its teeth as it tears into its victim. 
It is feeding. 
The situation becomes all the more frightening when the creature raises its head towards you. Despite it being eyeless, you know that you’re making eye contact, getting lost within the empty abyss that seems to be staring into the corners of your spirit. It’s wide smile never fading as it lurches, sprinting towards you faster than the blink of an eye. 
The transition from the dream world to the waking world is surreal, almost jarring. Especially since when you awaken, you’re paralyzed, body stiff with static crawling all over your skin. The darkness of your bedroom surrounds you, both familiar and completely unknown. You attempt to move around a little, opening and closing your eyes multiple times, attempting to raise at least a finger; though falling short of progress to escape this feeling, left to stare straight up at your ceiling. 
Then there’s the boom. A loud, static-like noise; deep as if something really heavy had dropped—but you’re unsure if it’s coming from the dark corner on your right or elsewhere within your home. A thing that simultaneously occurred and did not happen. The speed at which fear rises within you is faster than the speed of light. Heart racing as the physical manifestation of dread drops to the bottom of your stomach—fear making its home in the back of your throat, tightening as your swallow, seemingly making it difficult to breathe. It consumes you, a heavy burden, too insufferable to support, unable to put up a fair fight against it. 
Don’t Look. 
Curiosity gets the best of you. You shift your eyes to the right and in the far corner of the bedroom is a space that’s significantly darker than anything else in the room; like a void. Perhaps it’s because the light from your plug-in air freshener doesn’t reach that area of the room. And perhaps you’re tired and still reeling from that strange dream, but you swear you see movement as you glance over. You want to look away, you have to look away, but curiosity sinks its claws into you. Hypnotizing and you're paralyzed with fear of what could happen. Then, the darkness in the corner grows, getting larger as if whatever it is has been expanding, standing up to greet you. 
Then it disperses. Leaving you alone, shaking and sweating in the cold, unwelcoming darkness of your room, finally able to move and process things. 
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© PLANETDREAM 2023
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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago
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ok ok ok so i have a thought for pats sister au, i mentioned it a while ago cuz someone was talking about something similar
this isnt like that smutty and slutty, but i need them to also just be a little bit happy. and as much as i love love love mean art, i do need him to be a little bit sweet to her now
but im thinking now that he's like fucking her at every chance he gets, that means hes spending a lot of time with her in general. including parties!!!! they start going together instead of just leaving together. not officially or anything because it would undoubtedly get back to pat, so they're just going with a few mutual friends and pretend its a group thing. its also easier for art to pretend like he doesnt just want to be with you and only you. maybe this party is at a sorority instead of a frat, so art lets his guard down a little. there arent as many guys who art knows, meaning even less guys who might happen to know patrick. and hes not too concerned with all the girls considering girl code or whatever.
so he lets himself party more than he usually would, lets himself drink that extra drink (truthfully a few extra) and stand just that bit closer to her (very much closer, practically leaning against her), he even dances with her, something he's never done with a girl. they lean in close when theyre talking, anyone who didnt know them would assume they were a couple, or at least well on their way to becoming one. TIHI!!!
its a pretty rowdy party, art is shocked he thought the frat parties got out of hand but this was wild. before either of them realize it, theyre both wasted, having the time of their lives, but definitely drunk. their friends have started heading home, but they decide to stick around and keep the party going. his arm is around her, hand on her waist slowly but surely wandering down to rest on her ass, accompanied by the occasional squeeze just to make her fidget. hes letting her get close to him. its nothing too suspicious though, no kissing or outright sexual touch, with the right words it could be explained away as friendly, in case patrick should hear about it.
BUT art is drunk, and drunk stanford art is a party boy, i believe this in my heart and core. he is getting reckless, forgetting about patricj and that he's supposed to keep discreet. he is doing shots, hes making her do shots, hes making any- and everyone do shots with him. and im thinking its one of, or both of, 2 things.
hes taking a shot and then spitting into pats sisters mouth
i see this happening like spontaneously, maybe there's only one shot left in the bottle and art has the genius idea that you'll just share it. she doesnt get what he means but he'll just show her. takes the shot, leaves it in this mouth, grabs her jaw and brings her real close to him. she thinks hes going to kiss her, but he pries her mouth open instead, tilts her head back, and spits the shitty liquor right into her mouth. hand tight around her jaw to keep her in place, eyes on hers, just like when he spits in her mouth fr
OR/and later in the evening
2. tequila body shots
this i see happening as just a sudden idea art has. and hes insisting its a great idea, and he'll even let her start so it doesnt seem like hes just trying to get her naked. so he lays on like a sticky, honestly downright nasty, bartop. he takes off his shirt and ugh he just looks so fucking good. pats sister is getting so possessive with all these girls around ogling at her man lol, shes all too eager to mark her territory. so the way weve always done it where i live is tequila poured in the belly button, salt in a line up the chest and lime in their mouth so you have to kiss them to get it. ive learnt from going to international school that thats apparently not universal? let me know about that cuz confusing? how else?
anyway. she takes the shot off of him, taking her time lick up his chest and even longer to get the lime from between his lips. its not like people are really looking at them, but even if they were those two are too drunk to notice or care. when its her turn hes really making a show of it, gets her to take her shirt off, but lets her keep the bra (its practically see-through with all the lace anyway), but he insists that she has to unbutton her jeans because he also wants salt before the shot or whatever. hes making something up, he just wants to see what panties shes wearing and see if he can smell her sweet pussy. he knows she wet, he can tell. hes just as bad as her, if not worse.
then when the party is ending they're definitely going back together, theyre probably too drunk to even try to have sex. just sloppy and stumbling everywhere. they end up passing out in arts bed together, he only just managed to get them both into some of his clothes and decent for bed, boxers for him and just a shirt and panties for her. in the morning they wake up cuddled close. its the first time theyve slept in the same bed, the first time theyve cuddled, its the first time theyve slept in the same room since art first took her virginity. and now they'd spent the night together without having sex at all. it kind of changes things for them... but not too much :)
-🐞
GODDDDD THIS HAS LIVED SOOO RENT FREE. I'm fucking dead it's too beautiful, too perfect. Also body shots are The Same for me as well so ur so valid <3
You're surprised when the invite comes through your phone— when Art asks for you to come with him to a house party hosted by some sorority girl in one of his classes. He heard about it, heard that they can be fun, wants to see you there.
And, god, you pretty yourself up so much for it— a skimpy little tank top that he can see your bra through, a tiny little denim skirt, sweet, sparkly makeup that catches in the fucking strobe lights set up around the living room. You’re nursing a cocktail of pink lemonade and vodka, leaning against his side as he downs another fucking glass of jungle juice. He’s definitely on the wrong side of drunk, or else he wouldn’t be all over you the way he is.
And you’re fucking living for it, the way he keeps one hand slung around your waist, tugs you closer against him so you’re practically one fucking entity. He puts a fucking glowing test tube shot to your lips, eyes lighting up as you eagerly swallow it down. He could spit directly onto your tongue, in front of everyone and you’d fucking let him.
So he does. He downs a tequila shot, grabs your chin and you’re all wide eyed and eager as you look up at him. He spits it into your open mouth and you swallow it down, nose wrinkling at the taste. You like sweet things— fancy champagne, mixed drinks that are mostly juice. But you smile at him once you’ve swallowed down the tequila, giggling and buzzy.
But auuhghghgh body shots :((( he’s such a lecherous little perv, he gets off on the attention from you so bad. Wants everyone to see how bad you want him, how possessive and needy. Sucking the liquor from his naval, tongue flat as you lick up the line of salt you’d carefully tapped up his torso. He watches how your lashes flutter as you lick along his skin, the salt course on your tongue complimenting the sweaty taste of his skin. Maybe you linger there a little longer than what’s comfortable for anyone else watching. You take the lime from his mouth biting down so you can suck the juices from it.
It’s a little clumsy— you’ve never done one before, but you’d practically bouncing on your feet when you ask him to do one from you. He practically drops you on the table, fumbles his way to pulling off your shirt, tosses it somewhere neither of you will ever fucking see again.
He lines up the salt between your tits, in the pretty valley between the pink lace. You squirm when he pours the tequila into your belly button, he watches it slosh and spill as the muscles of your abdomen tremble. You bite your lip as he unbuttons your skirt, tugs it down just until he sees the pretty lacy pink of your panties, a perfect match to your bra.
God, you wanted him to fuck you so bad— you were practically wearing a sign around your neck that said it. He taps out a line of salt, licks from the waistband of your panties up to your naval, and sucks the liquor from it. His tongue laves at you— a long line between your belly button up to the hollow of your throat.
The rest of the party falls away— it’s just you and Art and you’re honestly pretty convinced he’s going to just fuck you on the table— stake his claim, lick into your mouth until all you know is salt and tequila and citrus and spit.
He bites into the lime and you taste the juice as it sprays into his mouth and drips back onto yours.
You hear people, absently, far in the back of your mind. You’re so fucking gone— you’re embarrassing yourselves, both of you. Art tugs his shirt over your head after the mindless, three-second search for your tank top comes back fruitless.
“Wanna go home?” He asks, his breath hot and his words clumsy against the shell of your ear. Home. Yeah, his dorm pretty much is home to you at this point. His hand’s in your back pocket and you’re waving a tipsy goodbye to your friends, clinging onto Art as you start the trek back to the dorms.
He presses you against a tree halfway back, kisses you hot and urgent and needy. Then again in the stairway up to his room— pins you against a set of windows, smiling and laughing against your mouth as some unfortunate soul catches him with his fingers between your thighs.
By the time you get back to his dorm, you’re basically buzzing with need, want, giddiness, affection. Art can’t get hard because he’s so fucked up, ends up giggling about it against your shoulder, mouthing against your salty, sweaty skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He collapses into the bed, tugs you against his side and falls asleep with his face buried in your hair and warm, possessive hands on your body.
You’re both asleep in minutes.
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collidescopeeyes · 4 months ago
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HCs of Aatrox as a weapon and a reader who is his user please 😭🙏
Aatrox with wielder!Reader
- Look there's gotta be a whole character arc here before he's in a state to exist around other people. He's a man trapped inside a sword trying to escape the very nature of his existence by destroying the world and by extension himself, thereby trapping himself in a nightmarish cycle of violence and pain with no respite. Like, all he's done for the last few centuries was possess some poor fool, go on an apocalyptic warpath, get killed, and be stuck back in the suffocating sensory deprivation tank of his sword form until someone new picks him up, rinse repeat.
- You find him in sword form, but much like Kayn and Rhaast he doesn't manage to overcome you–except instead of using him to murder people, you just kinda lug him around and show him all the nice things about living (cuz honestly, leaving him there would be kind of fucked up).
- Being put in forcible time out, he very reluctantly is forced to admit that maybe existence isn't all pain and okay, yeah, maybe there is inherent value in life. The hot springs are nice, he guesses. Human, bring him to the hot springs again.
- He's gonna be a huge bitch for a while let's be real, like full tilt raging complete with threats of grievous bodily harm (and he can be a real bitch when he wants to be, have you heard some of his voice lines??). At the same time, he's terrified you'll leave him so he still tries to go the ‘temptation of power, just give in’ route, and generally emphasizes how powerful he is and how useful he can be.
- Eventually you go from being you, human, to his human. He hasn't had a social interaction that did not end with someone dying in literal centuries, much less a friend. Like he still bitches but instead of threatening you, he starts threatening anything that threatens you, which he defends with the idea that he's the only one worthy of killing you. You learn not to take it personally, your giant sword with a disembodied heart set into the hilt is a tsundere, this is your life now.
- ‘ive only had this human for two months and if anything happens to them I'm killing everyone in this plane of existence and then myself’, but to be fair that last part was his plan to begin with. Anything even begins to threaten you and it's fire and brimstone from him–unfortunately, he can't exactly do much as a sword other than beg you to use him to slaughter anyone who so much as says a harsh word to you.
- The longer you wield him, the more he becomes attuned to you–which is new to him, because Darkin usually don't have a wielder without them becoming a full host for this long, and even then the wielder is usually trying to suppress them. With you, Aatrox gradually gets his senses back–unlike Naafiri and Rhaast, his sword form doesn't come with eyes, so he basically has to magically parasitize your vision and see through your eyes. Gradually this extends to other senses too–hell of a shock to him when he starts to feel your pain. Eventually, he gets his own sense of touch back, which is kinda weird since his body is a sword now, but it's still leagues better than eternal numbness. Even if he's not really sure how to process that he can feel you literally holding his disembodied heart in your hands.
- His grand plan was to accumulate the blood from every rare instance you were forced to use him to defend yourself in order to build himself a new body and then kill you with it. The plan is amended to killing you in your sleep, cuz he likes you, even if he doesn't want to admit it. It takes literally until he's standing over you that he realizes ‘I don't….actually want to do this,’ and he has zero follow up plan or capacity for self reflection so he just stands there like a weirdo. And then you wake up.
- “Are you gonna kill me?” “....no.” “Okay, cool, I'm going back to sleep.”
- You start travelling together like normal people then, except y'know, being in human form is pretty taxing so a decent chunk of the time he just...stays a sword. This is a huge gesture of trust from him, knowing that if you happen to put him down he'll be put back into a prison of his own body, but also you've kinda earned his trust in this matter since you could've left him to suffer at any point before now and didn't. He still acts like it's some sort of honor for you to be wielding him, but you've also earned his respect by this point so the ‘puny human’ talk has pretty much evaporated.
- His protectiveness gets worse once he has a body to act independently with, but not as much as you'd think–he respects your wishes and genuinely doesn't want to upset you, so he won't hurt anyone you don't want him to (...too bad)–though he will intimidate the everliving fuck out of anyone he thinks is a threat to you. He does actually still have a pretty robust sense of right and wrong–it’s just that he didn't give a fuck about it in the face of escaping the torture of his existence. Now you're that escape, and he'll defend you with the same visciousness that he killed literal gods with.
- He does not have any frame of reference for romance. He only sort of remembers being Ascended, and barely if at all being human before that–and in all that time he was a soldier through and through, devoted to his duty above all. He doesn't even know that he's caught feelings. Like he wants to be close to you all the time (and other urges he shall not be examining), but that's normal right?? You've been carrying him around for months now, surely it's because of that. He also hasn't had anyone touch him without also trying to kill him in centuries, forget that he can actually feel it now–surely that's why the slightest touch from you makes his heart skip a beat (you can literally see it, it's right there in the sword). It's normal. He's being super normal. Denial is just a river in Shurima.
- Point being, the man is oblivious, and even if he wasn't, he has no fucking idea what he's doing and he has a boatload of unresolved self-esteem issues. You're gonna have to make the first move and you're gonna have to be very forward and upfront with him. He's gonna freeze, Aatrox.exe is working overtime; internally he goes from ‘tf do you mean I have feelings’ to ‘tf do you mean I have feelings for a human’ to ‘well obviously this is my human, she's special, why wouldn't I have feelings for her’ to ‘me?? Why the fuck does she want me??’ to finally deciding that he would have to be clinically insane to turn you down (putting aside that he thinks there's a very real chance that he is in fact insane, but he's working on that).
- Not that he knows how to be in a relationship. Mutual respect and communication can go a long way to figuring stuff like this out, but it's pretty obvious he's out of his depth–he’s struggling to adjust to existing in general, and he's got centuries of trauma and a barely repressed anger management issue. It helps that he knows you're on his side (and that he's probably already made every threat under the sun when you first met), but the man doesn't exactly have a lot of practice dealing with his frustration in a healthy way. Patience is essential here–he’s trying, and he will get better with time and understanding.
- He's actually super self conscious about his body–in his eyes, it's a twisted, filthy reminder of what he used to be. Without a compatible host, Darkin bodies start to break down without fresh blood to sustain them, and he can't help but compare it to how he used to be before the Void war. His form is stable with you, but he still has a whole lot of negative associations. You've got your work cut out for you if you want to convince him he's not some sort of malformed disgusting beast–he’s very much of the opinion that you're some kind of saint for wanting him despite what he looks like.
- Despite all that, physical closeness is a big thing in his culture, plus he's touch starved and will take any opportunity to have you close. If you're not doing anything he'll literally just pick you up and deposit you on his lap so he can be close to you. If he's in sword form, he'll sulk if you put him down for even a moment. It's funny though, because as much as he passively demands attention like some sort of large spiky cat, he also gets really flustered if you're affectionate with him. He's also a huge tsundere though, so him being flustered mostly involves stammered yelling (he’s actually kind of awkward, when he's not being intimidating–re his joke lines).
- Darkin run hot as a consequence of the hemomancy their bodies are made up of–in particular, the area over his heart is very warm. He doesn't visibly blush per se, but the glow of his heart gets more radiant when he's flustered, and he gets noticably warmer. The dark plated parts of him are hard and bone-like with the slightest bit of give, whereas the red parts feel like normal skin if slightly thicker. He has a habit of only touching you with his unplated left hand–the other one has a lot of jagged edges and he worries he'll accidentally cut you (plus, the plated parts feel less). Since his form is fairly stable with you he can manifest his wings fairly consistently, but he's stuck at a (relatively) meager 9ft tall without absorbing any new bodies. His wings are more batlike than anything, and the webbing is extremely sensitive.
- In Ancient Shuriman custom, marriage is a social arrangement wherein a couple is considered married as soon as they start living together, no ceremony or paperwork required (fun fact: actual ancient egyptian custom!). Most couples have this accompanied with a legalized property agreement, but Aatrox was raised into a warrior caste that doesn't have a concept of private property, and he doesn't currently have much of a use for possessions anyway. This is all to say Aatrox considers you to be married and you have no idea until he offhandedly refers to you as his wife.
- All that being said, he still has an extreme sense of duty to his follow Darkin, being about as close to a leader as they have left after the war and their sealing. He feels an obligation to find a way to alleviate their suffering, either by finding them hosts, undoing their binding into weapons, or finding a way to kill them and have them actually stay dead. It's a grim task and it's pretty important to him to have your support in it, however you want to approach it.
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manic-sapphic · 19 days ago
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gonna pretend i'm sorry for this cause tbh- it's just a string of spop gifs where i rant for way too long about the feels i get from each scene~
(-hey - i said sorry, ok ... sure, i openly admitted it was a lie - but i guess i just hoped you'd appreciate the slight effort of the pretense-)
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this moment obviously kills me- just like i know it does for alotta you- but i just gotta call attention for a sec to what exactly kills me the most about it: up until this point, we've constantly been shown brief moments of catra's expression betraying her true vulnerable state - even if it's just a close-up of her eyes - during which less than a second passes before the look in them transitions from sad/hurt or disappointment/self-hatred (anything of the sort, really) to anger/ resentment/ rage. her brow usually falls quite quickly as her eyes narrow, refusing to allow her real feelings to continue just being felt - (& tbh, for most the show, i think she's just so fucking afraid of what might happen if she does let herself feel them- esp s4 after the portal)
but in this scene - that's changed. it's completely turned around, flipped upside down - she starts off w her usual habit - a display of resentment and rage - that dissolves into the most heart-breaking freaking expression i think i've ever seen. because you can see just how heart-broken she is- and it kinda seems like she's tryna admit, w/o having to say it- that she was already heart-broken for a really long time, and is tryna make one last attempt at getting adora to understand- not to choose catra- that's not the point, that's not what catra's after, even if it is what she wants and needs to know (for her own peace of mind) if the feeling is mutual-
rn, all catra is desperately tryna get adora to even just think about - is herself. take away every single person she feels responsible for - which is literally everyone.. everyone - a feeling, btw, catra now understands to be an unconscious reflex born of the trauma shadow weaver had caused adora. she's finally able to see it was never just her - adora was just traumatized far more secretively & in ways that would be harder for others to notice (which i'm sure was very much on purpose)
- the weird convos w shadow weaver, disguised as personal pep talks, looked as if they only took place when shadow weaver had adora alone - but in failsafe, catra hangs back to listen & make sure there's no bull shit going on- just like she said she would- "i'm only going to make sure shadow weaver doesn't try anything - it's not because i like you-" (yeah yeah we get it- u DoN't LiKe HeR ~ duuuh, that's cuz u luv her u dummy <3)
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oh but now- now i gotta talk about THIS look right here- as if the expression they give catra when/after she asks "what do you want, adora?" isn't enough to see me out in the backyard digging my own goddamn grave- then they throw this shi on my tv screen just seconds later ?! tf. i mean- the way catra's eyes shift up- no longer able to keep looking at adora after the only answer she can give her as to what she wants is "i have to do this, catra - i'm the only one who can" ... FUUUUUUU THO OK
for so many reasons, too many for me to get into in a post i already feel bad about cause dude i ain't near done ranting on scenes and moments annnd i see how long it's already gotten- my bad, fr- so i'll just try (and fail) to narrow it down and keep it brief- catra's questioning what adora wants is definitely aimed most importantly at her hope that maybe she can still get adora to even just think about that- to realize that she's allowed to and should think about it.
but i also read it as, once again, these two knowing each other so well that they don't always have to say exactly, word for word, what they wanna ask or tell each other- the emotional stuff is weird and hard for them to even put into words still, tbh; cause i mean, ya know- orphaned child soldiers discouraged from even showing any signs of illness when sick, cause asking for medical attention would be a real loser move for a kid to make, right.. like, wtf? dude- they can take on so much and handle the gnarliest situations that require strength and skills and abilities i couldn't ever ever fucking fathom facing - but feelings? tf? all i can ever hear them thinking in response to those: "ohhh fckfckfck what is this, why is this & how do i make it stop -???"
so when catra asks adora what she wants, i mostly hear her begging adora to be a little selfish - just this once, at least - and let herself think about herself, but i also hear catra's most vulnerable, desperate, & honest ask of adora so far. what i hear woven in what catra actually says aloud, is another quiet question she's still too scared to put into words, but that i kinda think she hopes/knows adora will hear if she's really listening- "do you want me?"
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uggghh and the way that after a moment of an outward, unfiltered display of grief over adora's answer (or more accurately, lack of an answer), catra wipes her eyes and turns away. the switch flipped. back on her bull shit. emotional defense mechanisms she's once again starting to feel are the right idea & always were, and is prob feeling like a fool for ever thinking she might actually get to have a life where she doesn't have to feel them as necessities - where it doesn't feel like that's the only way she'll ever survive.
cause maybe by now, she's seen that some people get to have that - but it's just not the life that was ever meant for her. just like adora was never meant to have a life of her own - at all - period. they're both still so easily fcking convinced of what they've been conditioned to believe about themselves, their lives, and the inevitabilities associated w their existence - (FUCK OFF FOREVER SHADOW WEAVER)
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and the quick little moment of adora shown just after catra disappears - possibly gone from her sight forever - the shorter close-up of her reaction before the shot goes waaay back and she cries out for catra - i feel like it def doesn't get enough recognition (prob mostly due to the fact that the clip of adora yelling catra's name comes only seconds later and is portrayed far more dramatically, & in a way that crushes tf outta ur soul, ofc)
but that lil bit there- that brief second of adora's initial reaction- the moment she starts to process that catra just left- that catra's gone, and that this time- adora thinks it's probably for good- her short, shuddering intake of breath followed by what seem like more hurried, forced breaths that kinda appear difficult for her to take- sound like the first seconds of a fcking panic attack to me dude.
and it certainly hurts to watch just as much as when she calls out after catra - although yeah, tbh, that bit stings a lil extra in its own way- i mean, knowing catra had to have heard adora pretty much scream out her name seconds after she disappeared w melog- fuck. (idk how tf catra didn't come right back tbh. i'd be visible again so quick, rushin to adora like "omg bb i'm so sorry- pls don't cry, never ever, ily so much, won't ever hurt u again ok- ilysm omg omfg ily i'm so sorry" & btw, that's a totally normal thing to think when watching that scene ok-)
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oh but then - omfg - adora gets a swift slap in the face from the crystal castle - the haunting of a sudden, unexpected vision of catra. all the catra's. catra in so many of the different forms adora's known her through, even if it was as enemies. it reminds me a bit of an excerpt out of the "don't go" fanfic - "catra hasn't been in her life for a long time - but she hadn't known how unbearable it would be to lose her for good until that moment" -
neither of these bitches ever wanted each other gone- catra (very sadly so) def spent most the series tryna convince herself that's how she felt about adora- tho it's just cause her conditioning taught her to think needing someone makes you weak and easy to hurt, and tbh, i think catra knew she needed adora for most their lives, even if she could never admit it to herself in even the form of a full, conscious thought--
but i think she also believed that, after the promise, that need was confirmed to be mutual. and in that way, it was something catra never needed to say but also never felt the need to be ashamed of/embarrassed by- until adora left. and her belief that the feeling of needing each other for support & protection (and let's be honest, care & affection) was mutually shared between them was shattered - & in such a way that i imagine catra musta felt like she was the actual idiot all along - adora had never needed her, and now she needed to figure out how to achieve that same independence - she needed to figure out how to not need adora.
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omg tho dude - pretty sure i've said it before but i can't not say it (aka rant on it tho tbh- sorry lol) again and prob every time i ever share anything that features this couple seconds of what i kinda feel to be adora's most honest, selfish, & vulnerable moment we see up to this point- & without her needing to say a fucking thing- just tears that fall from her eyes after catra basically says "uhh yeah ok so- fuck that nonsense- i'm not leaving, idc wtf happens- i'm staying with you"
--(cause yeah, maybe she spent the last few years too prideful and stubborn to admit that was always what she wanted to do and where she loved being the most- and after so little time spent back by adora's side- it was breaking her fucking heart all over, knowing her chance at having time w adora was going away again- but regardless, catra gets now- that part's not up to her; it's never been her choice to make- & not even adora's, really- but deciding to stay w adora no matter where she goes- that's always been up to her- and she's not ever fucking making the mistake of choosing not to stay right beside that silly sweet dummy ever, eeeever again)
BUT duuude tho - the way adora cries a bit but says nothing - doesn't attempt even once to try n convince catra to go, to push her to leave and get somewhere safe - i just can't help but figure catra staying with her is exactly what she wanted, but never would've asked for in a million years. never would've even let herself form the question in her head.
but in spite of that, when catra states it unequivocally and clearly adds w confidence - "no matter what happens" - adora can't argue. she can't insist. much like catra hasn't really been able to do for quite a while now - adora can't fake it anymore. she's just too tired and she finally has to recognize she wants someone to take care of her, too - just like she's felt compelled to do for everyone else for so long. and in that moment, i feel like she's finally wordlessly admitting to catra, not only does she want her to be the one to take care of her - she needs her to be (and always has)
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ahhhh but oof-baboof bro - then there's all this.
somehow, catra straight up delves deep into the abyss currently consuming adora & pretty much says - "fuck no. plsss wake up - you can't just die like this, not before you ever get a chance to live your own fcking life, good god dude - i get now why you couldn't before, but please, this time - STAY."
(huh- stay.. another way of saying "don't go"... hmmm :) <3)
these gurls literally got so much love for each other that catra is able to straight up force open an entryway into adora's fading subconscious (which seems to be the only part of her that's still alive) - just by talking to her - barely above a whisper there in the heart, but in adora's mind, she's screaming at her.
the desperate, hopeful sentiments uttered, urging adora to keep going - to push through this and come out the other side alive - to please survive because you deserve to - are just that much stronger when they come from catra- it's that loud to adora when catra is the one saying it- cause she's finally freaking realized, catra's the one she most hopes to hear it from. knowing catra feels that way about her is something she's never really had, and vice versa ofc, even when they were both in the horde. it wasn't the kind of thing they were taught to say or even acknowledge feeling - but hearing catra beg her to just stay alive - and then hearing why catra so desperately hopes for her to - adora's made certain that it really is true -
she does deserve love, and there's someone whose love she's realized she wants- and they're holding her, telling her she has it & always has. and suddenly staying isn't a hope, isn't a plea - it's an inevitability. adora ain't going nowhere--
and, so reminiscent of adora's line to catra near the end of save the cat: "c'mon catra, you've never listened to anyone in your life - are you really going to start now?" we hear catra imploring adora: "you've never given up on anything in your life- not even on me- so don't you dare start now!"
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they both know each other so well, they know the best buttons to push that might just work when tryna reach each other, even when one of them is lost to the point of nearly being gone for good - they don't find a door to open - they take a saw to the fucking wall and make one. and pull the other back through. cause everything will be ok if they just stay together. and once they've both finally accepted the truth to that - that's all they wanna do, to the point of refusing to allow each other to die when faced with that possibility. and likewise, refusing to die- just knowing the other is there waiting for them, wanting them, is enough to bring them back -
wanting the life they haven't gotten to share yet, and straight up refusing to let anything take the hope of that future away - even if it means unlocking their true, innate she-ra form (and beginning to understand that they are magic & it was never about the stupid sword) - or if it's wielding some strange, mysterious power w/o prob even knowing they are- like reaching through a metaphysical doorway into the mind of the love of your life and grasping as far and as desperately as you can for their hand, trying- and succeeding- to pull them back from the brink of death.
their story is literally so lovely. & individually, they are truly such honest, raw, complex and thought-provoking characters - presented in a way that offers viewers a fairly rare experience, even these days, of seeing a story written by people willing to honor the honesty everyone deserves to see and may kinda need to see - things aren't always shiny, happy, good times & people aren't perfect- quite literally, no one is- but that doesn't mean there's no point trying. that doesn't mean there's no hope of a happy ending - or that you don't deserve one. it's literally all just part of life, part of living that you'll find yourself faced w figuring out along the way- whether the answers are good or bad. and that's an insane idea to thread into a freaking cartoon dude - wuhhh tf
oh and ps- catradora are canon. (almost wanna end every rant w this reminder lolol) ~~ they cannot be stopped, this shit won't ever be undone lmao. & that makes me wanna say- "hell yes!" and for anyone who it makes wanna say "hell no" - all i got in response to that isssss "more catradora for us then - hell yes x2"
:) <3
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j0eyj0rdis0n · 1 year ago
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HEYYYYY i just wanted to say i love ur work <3 and secondly
i wanted to ask if you’ve seen the a24 movie pearl (2022)? cuz like i had a creepypasta request idea based of a pearl scene😭 it’s where toby gives fem-reader like stockholm syndrome and she becomes really clingy to him. And so one day he tells her that he’s gonna be right back and reader starts overthinking and assuming that he’s leaving her forever. AND THENNN she says the infamous pearl lines “NO! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME IF I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG! I DONT UNDERSTAND I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME!!!!”.
then they have a huge fight to which it turns into reader trying to hurt toby and toby just calming her down in anyway tehe :3
Hey love! I unfortunately haven't seen the movie as I'm not really one for movies at all, but I've certainly seen this clip circling on TikTok. It was super intriguing and it made me want to see it but I just haven't had the chance. For not seeing the movie I hope that this is at least somewhat accurate! Thank you for the ask!
Also I have some works ready for Kinktober! I only picked some of the prompts, I’ll start on day 6 so get ready!!
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WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?! - "TICCI" TOBY
"Y/N I'll be back s-soon. Ma-asky has been in a s-shit mood 'bout this mission." Toby grumbled as he tied his boots.
"What..?" You looked up at him quickly from the dishes you were washing. "Why are you leaving me...?"
"Y/N, it's j-just for a m-mission." He sighed, realizing that this would be coming the longer he kept you here with him alone. "P-promise it won't be long."
The look of confusion and hurt on your face was evident. He hated it when you got upset like this. How was he supposed to explain any further that it was only a short mission? He felt like he couldn't ever explain anything to you. It was starting to get rather irritating too.
"You don't want to stay with me?" You questioned, your tone slowly growing angry. Your hands letting a plate clatter to the counter.
"Don't st-start with that. I told you! A sh-short mission!" His tone began to match yours, with a rough twang of anger. He tied his boots up with white knuckles before standing up and glaring at you.
"Don't leave me!!" You screamed, not bothering to wipe your wet hands off as you grabbed his wrist. "Why don't you love me?! I haven't done anything wrong!! Why do you keep leaving?!" Your voice grew hoarse as you screamed louder, practically begging for him to stay. "Toby please! Please don't leave!" You tried to pull his hand from the doorknob with tears streaming down your face.
"L-let go Y/N! I have t-to go!" He shouted back, ripping his arm from your grasp and throwing the door open.
"NO! NO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" You cried, watching him walk out in a huff.
You ran after him, kicking up dirt with each long stride. You grabbed onto his shirt, trying to drag him back inside. "Please Toby! Please I need you!"
He shrugged off your advances, continuing down the dirt road. If he wanted you for himself so badly then why was he leaving?! They had more than enough manpower to get missions done without him. You could barely survive without him! How dare he leave you like this! His pace didn't stop you from continuing your chase. Picking up a hatchet leaning against the picket fence you ran with rage in your eyes and anger in your heart.
"You're not leaving!!" You shouted, bringing the hatchet above your head, ready to swing at him.
He turned quickly, dodging your swing and wrestling the hatchet out of your small hands. "What on e-earth do you think y-you're doing?!" He shouted, throwing the hatchet far into the dirt as he got up in your face. "You're going to k-k-kill me for trying ta' leave? What the f-fuck is your problem!?" He took a moment to pause, staring you down with a look that could probably kill. "Get the f-fuck inside. Now."
When you didn't respond to his words, he grabbed your wrist with enough force to shatter it completely, dragging you towards the house. He threw you on the couch, pointing an accusing finger at you as he continued his yelling spree.
"I do all this for y-y-you! Be fuckin' grateful!"
It was only when he saw tears spring to your eyes that he went quiet. Yes he was upset you were making such a big deal out of one short mission, but he wasn't upset enough to make you cry from yelling at you. He let out a defeated sigh, taking a seat next to you on the old couch.
"S-sorry... I shouldn't have y-yelled... You gotta k-know missions aren't optional... I really gotta go Y/N..."
You sat defeated, tears streaming down your face. You hated it when he left, and no amount of reassurance made you feel better. Every time he left, you felt a piece of your heart break.
All you could do was nod, letting him stand without protest. Toby gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before heading out the door once more.
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onthewaytosomewhere · 4 months ago
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ok kiddies covid/med brain is a little bit kicking ur girlie's arse this last week - i crave the day when my brain becomes less foggy - cuz i really thought that i would get so much writing done while i couldn't do anything else (hell i would have settled for reading lolz) - but towards the end i've gotten a few words - it would be better if i could stop starting new things though lolz
thanks so much for the tags today @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @tailsbeth-writes @inell - i'm so excited to check out what ur working on 💚💚
so how about a lil southern philanthropy - cuz i luv them (tho to be honest i can't remember if these words were written in the last week or the one b4 lolz)
Liam quickly plates the food to keep himself busy. Otherwise, he may turn around, kiss Pez and say ‘fuck it’ about eating the food he made to follow him back to bed. He watches Pez grab juice from the refrigerator and glasses from the cupboard. The way his shirt rides up as he stretches for them makes him bite his lip both in a wave of lust and to prevent him from asking Pez if he’ll let Liam drop to his knees right here in the kitchen and blow him, please. Somehow, he makes it through breakfast without embarrassing himself, sitting at the table with Pez, the morning light streaming through the windows and making him look even more beautiful. Liam has thought Pez was imbued with more beauty than should be allowed in one person since he first laid eyes on him. Of course, when they first met, they were both embroiled in some sort of relationship, and he didn’t think much of it besides a passing ‘That man is beautiful.’ They usually went months, if not years, in between happening to be at the same function, until Liam recently moved to New York, that is. Now, it's been so often he’s almost surprised it took this long to end up here. Here. At Pez’s, the morning after a night, he’s not going to soon forget, and well, apparently, if Pez has his way, a morning that might be just as good. He pushes his plate aside, no longer able to eat, and contemplates his next move when Pez leans in. His lips on Liam’s are soft and plush, and when Liam sighs into the kiss, Pez’s tongue seeks entry into his mouth. He lets him in—of course, he lets him in. He’s realizing there are not many things he won’t let Pez do.
tag ur it!! (unless of course ya beat me and i missed it lolz) @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd
@caterpills @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03
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@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf
@inexplicablymine @jellibuns @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia @kiwiana-writes
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@porcelainmortal @priincebutt @softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow
@taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thighzp
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@typicalopposite (i should have looked at what ur tag was first so now i'm tagging u lolz)
and whoever i might have forgotten in the brain-fog
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mamawasatesttube · 2 years ago
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OOF. There are so many good prompts on that list, I could barely decide! But I feel like I gotta go with “They’ll find me, they always do.” Preferably as spoken by Kon?
Kon doesn't know where he is.
Well—okay, he has a vague idea. It's... a box, somewhere underground, designed for holding Kryptonians. Designed for breaking Kryptonians, if he's entirely honest; courtesy of Luthor, of course. The walls are twofold, with all the air pumped out of the gap between the layers so that he can't hear anything from outside, and the strange, uncanny silence alone would be bad enough without the darkness, away from any sun.
The only light is, of course, the fucking kryptonite.
It's getting old, he thinks woozily. How many times is Luthor gonna pull this kinda shit? Does he really think he can break Kon's spirit just with a little (okay, a lottle) physical misery? Does he really think Kon will ever give up any of Kal's secrets just 'cuz of some pain, misery, and humiliation?
Admittedly, having to hand himself over for a bunch of civilian hostages just to get slapped with a kryptonite fucking collar is pretty heavy on the humiliation front, but still. Kon's a goddamn joke. He can take being a laughingstock.
He heaves a sigh, closing his eyes. At least the floor is cold and soothing against his flushed cheeks; the hot flashes are better than the cold sweats, so he's grateful, for the moment. He just has to outlast this, that's all.
At some point, the loudspeaker in the ceiling crackles and jolts him out of his doze. "You look pathetic," Luthor informs him. Kon musters up the energy to raise a middle finger to wherever the infrared cameras in here might be. "Classy as ever, Supernova. You could end this anytime, you know. And frankly, you owe me your existence; you'd think you'd be more grateful than this."
Kon rolls onto his back just to raise a second middle finger to the ceiling, too.
Luthor sighs. "So stubborn. Why do you insist on drawing out your suffering? There is only one way this ends, and we both know that."
"Yeah," Kon mumbles. He's too tired and achy to keep his arms up any longer, so he lets them fall back down to his sides. "There is. They'll find me. They always do."
Judging by the hiss of breath, Luthor doesn't care for that answer. Kon smiles despite the burning under his skin, and closes his eyes again.
Some time passes. Kon drifts vaguely in and out of consciousness, thoughts swimming; when the pain and the nausea grow too overwhelming, he retreats into the part of his mind that never left the tube at Cadmus and lets himself float away from reality.
He dreams about the swimming hole a little ways from the farmhouse. It's in a small copse of trees that stand out on the flat horizon; he took Tim there earlier this summer. They splashed around, swam, and made out sitting on the water's edge; right as they were about to leave, Tim stole Kon's shirt and jumped in wearing it, just to make Kon wear a wet T-shirt the whole walk home, and laughed at his own prank on and off all afternoon.
Kon likes when Tim laughs. The memory makes him smile; he can almost feel the warmth of the sunlight on his back as he reminisces. God, what he'd do for some sunlight right now...
Bang. Bang. Bang.
BOOM.
Light floods into the room, artificial, fluorescent light that does nothing for him. Kon squints vaguely at the silhouettes cast against it, but doesn't bother to lift his head; he'd rather dream of the swimming hole and the cool water lapping at his clammy skin.
"Is that a fucking collar?" Cassie's voice, frigid with rage. Warm hands brush against his throat as she kneels, and the sound of metal snapping reaches him from far, far away. "I'm going to kill Luthor. I'm actually gonna kill—"
"Not if I get there first," Bart says, his voice strangely taut. "Hey, Kon. Wake up!"
Someone else is at his side, too. Red, and black, and white eyes in a dark mask... oh. That's Tim, Kon realizes woozily, as a gloved hand cups his cheek.
"Kon," Tim says. His voice is low and urgent. He's not laughing. The kryptonite is gone, Kon realizes suddenly; there's a metal box next to Tim's knee. Classic Tim, he thinks. Always prepared. "Kon, can you hear me?"
Kon blinks at him. He probably should answer, but... he still feels like he's floating, and none of it can quite reach him. It's fine. It's probably fine.
Tim's lips press together in a thin, tight line. Kon doesn't like that; he shouldn't look so tense and unhappy. He likes when Tim laughs.
"Shit, that bastard really did a number on him," Cassie hisses. "Here, move. I got him."
Tim reluctantly pulls away. Kon whines a little as his hand drops from his cheek; he doesn't want Tim to go. But then Cassie is there, gathering him up into her arms, and Kon sighs, relaxing; she's warm, and he's suddenly acutely aware that he's freezing, and he knows in her arms, he's safe.
"Let's go," Cassie says, standing with Kon in her arms.
"He's shivering. Hold on." Kon watches through weary, half-lidded eyes as Tim fiddles with the clasps of his cape, pulls it off, and... oh. Drapes it over him like a blanket, then bundles him up like a baby, in Cassie's arms.
"If you guys have Kon, I can go murder Luthor real fast," Bart offers.
It's probably a sign that his friends are really, really pissed that no one immediately says no murder, Bart. Kon can't figure out what's going on, but he knows he's safe now. He closes his eyes and sinks into Cassie's arms and figures he'll just have to ask them to fill him in later.
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hellboundhimbo · 17 days ago
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Pleeeeeease talk more about Kuwameshi I live for your takes
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well. don't mind if i do. you have no idea what you've just unleashed btw.
so like they're sooooo attached to each other right like SOO fucking dependent. both of them trying to die for each other every five seconds, yusuke constantly crashing out because kuwabara like. stubbed his toe a full continent away. episode 89 just generally. they're basically attached at the hip. and on one hand watching them beat each other up while also caring sooooo embarrassingly much is cute its also like low-key kinda codependent. like oh you don't know who you are without him? erm. and while I do think a big reason for that is just bc they're quite literally the only other person among their peers who would understand the trauma they've experienced what with dark tournament n all, there's also a degree of personal shit for both of them that impacts it.
cuz like. lbr at the start of the show yusuke was very very lonely. its part of the reason he just writes off kuwabara as a run of the mill punk chasing glory, at first. why he's so surprised at kuwabara's breakdown at his wake. yusuke has this idea in his head that he's no good for nobody, navigating a world where every man fends for themself. seeing that "hey ppl care if I live" is really impactful for yusuke, even if he never fully processes that lesson. and he still has that idea that "oh kuwabara's just some dumbass" going into The Promise, but ofc he has his shit flipped on him when he realizes "oh this guy's really cool actually." and from that point onward yusuke just gets sooooo attached so quickly. bc like other than keiko, kuwabara was yusuke's first real friend.
and rq that is NOT DISCREDITING THE IMPORTANCE OF YUSUKE AND KEIKO'S BOND NONONO but there's a clear distinction there between what yusuke and keiko have vs what yusuke and kuwabara have for a number of factors, the whole "not really able to have a normal friendship bc you've been paired off as a couple since diapers" thing only being part of it. kuwabara's a lot like yusuke in a lot of ways. hot headed delinquents with shitty grades judged by their mentors with less than conventional family lives (kuwabara was practically raised by shizuru despite her only being like 17-20smth in canon. there's implications there I think.)
its just that in a lot of ways they're genuine equals and lord knows yusuke needs someone to relate to at the point in his life he's at. moreover kuwabara was never afraid to challenge yusuke, something he clearly values and revels in, even if yusuke himself sees it less of an actual rivalry and more of a bit of fun. he's forced to recognize in The Promise how good of a guy kuwabara actually is and that made an impression on yusuke, nihilistic and untrusting as he is. and as we all know yusuke's protective of the people he cares about, but its like. its different with kuwabara. because unlike someone like keiko kuwabara runs headfirst into danger. he's a fighter!! a manly man if you will. and yusuke fucking Hates that because HELLO you're not allowed to get hurt ever you mean too much to me. but he's also beating up kuwabara on the reg bc duh they still fight. so its this weird kinda dissonance where yusuke's like "NO ONE'S ALLOWED TO BEAT UP KUWABARA BUT ME" and that's very funny and lowkey fruity ngl. stop trying to kill my girlfriend only I'm allowed to bully him.
obv the whole being overly protective angle takes on a whole new context as the show goes on but I think if I got into anything post chapter black this post would end up longer than my last longfic so. I'm just gonna say that kuwabara taking yusuke's protectiveness as him thinking kuwabara is weak (or a joke as he puts it which feeds into his larger sidekick/inferiority complex when compared to the rest of team urameshi) it's just. ugh stupid idiots with their stupid egos and pride.
SPEAKING OF KUWABARA that boy is so insanely whipped it's not even funny. like yes yes yusuke is totally gay for kuwabara I feel that in my bones and there's So Much there. stupid fuckin romance anime bubbles in the promise (manga.) literally keeping up with a SPEEDING CAR ON A BIKE just to save kuwa. again yusuke crashing out whenever kuwabara's even slightly in danger. kuwabara constantly being set up as yusuke's damsel in distress, for some fuckin reason. super gay. but Oh My God Kuwabara. he is so in love with him its not even FUnny and how do I even articulate that without pointing at episode 89 and going !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hes just. sooooo hopelessly devoted man. for YEARSSSSS. "winning's never been the reason I fight him" ITS NOT ABOUT WINNING.... he just. he fixated on yusuke for so long obsessed over earning his respect followed him into hell and back over and over and over again literally tried to DIEEEE for him. "YOU'VE ALWAYS GOTTA BE THERE URAMESHI DONT YOU GET IT. IF YOURE NOT THEN WHO AM I" I'm gonna IHFRBIFVBIVHOFHSI. he just wants yusuke to SEE HIM to respect him as an equal but because yusuke wants to protect him he just processes it as "oh you think I'm weak" but THATS NOT IT!! HE JUST CARES ABT U DNSA and then kuwabara's like "yeah I'm actually gonna try to die for you again but DONT U DARE TRY AND PULL THAT SHIT W ME" I hate them basically.
again they're soooo sweet on each other but in that same breath like I do think their lil divorce in ep 98 was sorta necessary. not just bc of the events of canon but again kuwabara was just. he didn't know what to do with himself without yusuke there with him. the romance of "I need you" vs the logical thought "hey wait that's. that's not healthy." idkidk this was absolutely incoherent I just have a lot of thoughts on them. I care them deeply. kuwameshi forever and ever but also I need them to die.
anyway. them.
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afurtivecake · 7 months ago
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Neil's so funny fr cuz what other character looks at a countdown to their own demise and has the attitude of "I didn't ask for a secretary 🙄" or who isn't fun to torture cuz of his laissez faire attitude to it. nobody doing it like him.
do u have any opinions on neil? or andreil?
yes. because i'm obsessed with those two assholes. next.
sorry, i'm only kidding, of course i will talk about it in detail and at length because i'm incapable of shutting up once you get me going.
wymack (in one of the short stories) says neil is "ragged around the edges and ice all the way through" and i think that describes him perfectly. dude is seriously unhinged and a bit of a sociopath and he doesn't even realize it. he's out there thinking that he has a bit of a temper issue but that's it. and then he'll say things like how he wasn't paying attention to what people were saying cuz he was too busy taking in riko's agonized screams or how he no longer cared what the psychiatrist has to say because he's already served his use in getting andrew clean. and that's all just normal to him. he doesn't really mind using people, he's kind of bloodthirsty, he'll cut people where it hurts (verbally) and he genuinely doesn't feel anything for any of the deaths that happen. none of that is insane or troubling behaviour on its own, but the fact that he doesn't seem to think it's particularly troubling behaviour is what's troubling. when he does care, it's about what other people will think of his reactions. ice all the bloody way through.
sometimes i feel so bad for andrew like, "this??? THIS is what you want???" but alright, to each their own. i love that andrew probably has more natural empathy than neil and that neil probably has more practice at finding empathy and utilizing it than andrew. between them, they might scrounge up enough functional empathy to nearly make up one full normal person. then i remember that i, someone who isn't ever 100% sure i'm showing my empathy correctly and doesn't know what to do when other people react with strong empathy, happen to be friends with a lot of the same sort of people...................so i'd be lying if i said i don't understand why they feel comfortable around each other.
yeah but my main opinion is that i'm pretty happy for them never to say 'i love you' or marry or even acknowledge their relationship openly. they just go home to the same home, do their share of tasks and chores, hang out in each other's company, wait for each other, do things for each other, give each other casual gifts, fuck, wake up next to each other, and if anyone asks them if they're together, they shrug and give the simplest, barest version of the truth: they live together.
personally i find this headcanon nice and reassuring because, if you did not grow up hearing affection and love expressed in words, the words 'i love you' can feel really empty and uncomfortable to receive or use. (a thing i did not realize myself until i had to give a speech at a wedding and choked on using the word 'love'.) to me, it's reassuring that they can just exist together as they are. I don't see it as a sign that they need more healing, necessarily. idk, at some point, how much of your personality is your trauma and how much of it is just you? if you fully heal from everything, would you still be yourself? no bloody clue. but hey, i like that people do head canon them being really soft and gooey and nice. i think it says a lot about who they are as people and i'm glad for that.
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loosingmoreletters · 11 months ago
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1. Thank you and That One Anon for making the English speaking fandom for Weapon Creator!
2. In the name of bullying Yun Taeheon, I need his reaction to Mun Doyun- aka the B rank assassin that was Shin Junseo’s guild leader. Cuz objectively, Yun Taeheon knows a lot can happen in a year and stuff, but also he’s an S-rank leader of a top guild that is willing to give Shin Junseo just about anything and he still cannot recruit him. And then there’s this B-rank nobody (to him) who specifically hired Shin Junseo - as a D rank weapon creator who could only make an average knife every 20 seconds - BC HE HAD A SKILL THAST DESTROYED THE BLADES HE USED. Literally the same reason!! But no, somehow Yun Taeheon is losing this race.
Even better if he somehow gets more backstory or through some time shenanigans he meets the other Mun Doyun, who is basically the reason Shin Junseo is even as good as he is. Like, the reason sjs learned all he could and stuff. Anyway, yth being objectively, obviously on a higher level than this dude and yet still absolutely seething at the very idea of how much he apparently is not measuring up. How do you think that should go?
also, looking at the firsts chapter and think the first chapter and I think Sjs could be the little kid at the very beginning? Meaning that he has grown up in he world of hunters and gates, giving some cool world building to how this is a whole generation of ppl growing up with gates and magic.
However, for the sake of getting more of your sugar daddy au, I am ignoring that. Or maybe it could be incorporated, like- yth was trying to figure out how to ask sjs for just, an actual relationship. And sjs had stopped their contract after signing onto the guild. Extra tension!! Cuz obviously yth wasn’t gonna reach out and be like, “Hey, so that didn’t work out…”
glad to be of service!!!!! taking it from the bottom here, you mean this kid?
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Huh! Now that you mention it, that could track! Would be rather interesting too as I'd put this kid somehwere between 8 and 12, which implies dungeons have been a thing for much longer than just a couple of years. Tho I assumed the adult in the next panel was YTH, so hmmm. But also what does this say about the state of his family. where the fuck are they. I need answers. And also I'd love some worldbuilding around growing up in such a world. In SCTIR, one of my fave things is to linger on like, the first weeks after the dungeon breaks. how did legislation change, the government, the way people reacto to this-
"In the name of bullying YTH" man we really all just took a look at this guy, who is probably meant to be like a cool badass character and decided we shall treat him like our sibling's new boyfriend and thus make fun of hinm. huh. god given right to bully the man.
But yeah, do you think YTH assumed just a little bit that SJS had like weird trauma. and also like- okay full confession time. when I started reading this, I assumed this guy would be our love interest second protag. I mean. look at him and SJS reaction to praise
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and the way SJS also thinks of this guild in the future memories he receives? a place where he was accepted, found friends, where they kept pushing forward together- Listen. also the way it lingers on MDY's body there. I'm just saying, the vibes are accurate. to me.
Anyway, YTH does have the vibes of somebody who is incredibly understanding but privately also has beef with a dead man. he knows it's unfair and stupid, but also he could buy SJS a god damn pent house apartment. he would. that and any item he wants. actually I just realized while typing this would've been really fucking great to insert into my little soulmate fanfic given I did toss in like one sided bonds existing there. something to consider for the future.
But man, I think it would be interesting if SJS is confronted with him again also in the context of like, SJS not recognizing MDY's brother despite his future memories, which sure has some implication. I told a friend that like my assumption is that Mun Dojin died in the other timeline and I desperately need him and SJS to talk because even if the memories SJS has never actually existed here, that still sort of makes him the only person MDJ can talk to.
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actually, man. this would make anything SJS/YTH even funnier. here's your crush. there's your crush's vampire familier and his ex guildmaster's (former bf's??????) little brother. god I need MDJ and Elizabeth to show up more often. slkdfhsldkh sorry got entirely off track here.
OKAY BACK TO SUGAR DADDY AU- I just realized how fucking hilarious this would also be because like. SJS manages to bag one man and it's this big shot guild leader. and instead of signing up with his guild, he goes to these small nobodies. like, it probably just makes sense to SJS. This was a job, now here is another, newer job. Life goes on.
YTH meanwhile is the math meme. Min Huisu told him to get a social life. he paid someone for that, but the guy turns out to be actually cute and fun, so he'd like to have a relationship that is not just superifical. and this guy just. mcfucking signs on to a guild he hasn't even heard of. f in the fucking chat
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