#is the one that would be the most unhealthy irl

[getvalentined]

Beat DMC5!

What I got from the ending is that Dante and Vergil went to honeymoon in hell while Nero took over the family business. I'm fine with that. Seems like a happy ending all around.

I am, however, now utterly baffled by fandom acting like V is a whole new character in spite of the fact that he's literally just Vergil. The new circumstances he's in due to being human make him come off a bit differently, but he's still Vergil. I've never seen anyone refer to Urizen as if he's anything other than Vergil, but for some reason V gets treated like something entirely separate and different and unique, and it's…confusing.

I feel like the canon dynamic is much more interesting, the concept of Vergil actually coming to trust and rely on Nero without knowing who he even is, trying to hide his identity from Dante and knowing that it's not working but also knowing that Dante isn't going to call him out on it. As it turns out, a dramatic dork by any other name would still be Vergil, and I really love that.

Based on what I'd seen randomly come across my feed I'd assumed there was some clear delineation between them as characters, like a Sephiroth and Kadaj situation, but that's not it at all. There is no delineation, there is no division, V is just Vergil. His name is, in fact, Vergil, he's just going by "V" because he didn't want to explain the truth to Dante and risk not being able to put himself back together.

Also it's not lost on me that the three demons V used in battle were manifestations of Vergil's trauma under Mundus, and the fact that—for some reason—the only one able to defeat them and allow him to finally cast that trauma aside was Dante. That sure does a number on my heart.

[bungobble-my-balls]

What's the deal with the Tanizaki siblings?

(Very long headcanon on what I think is actually up with the Tanizaki's, which at this point might be more of an AU than a headcanon)

So the Tanizaki's have been a point of debate in the fandom for years now, mainly on the fact that we have no idea what their deal is outside of the 'incest joke', and because of that joke and the lack of anything else to them they unfortunately get shoved to the back pretty often (mainly in Naomi's case).

That being said, it's still clear that we'll get a backstory on them at some point and that there's more to them than what they're letting on.

The questions we have on them are:

Why does Juunichiro see Naomi as a God?

Why is Juunichiro so ruthless and why does he pretend he's not?

Is Juunichiro a reliable narrator?

Are they actually siblings?

What led these two to join the agency?

Why do they stick together so much?

And most importantly

Why do they act like that? (and can they please stop)

Idk when we'll get a backstory for them, but I know people already have their theories like how Naomi is one of Juunichiro's hallucinations based on a real girl he knew that died, which were mostly sparked by certain official arts of the two.

I think based on the art I can definitely see why people have that theory, but I don't think it's true and I personally don't want it to be true because I want Naomi to be a real person.

I don't exactly have a theory on what their deal is, but I do have a headcanon. So before the Tanizaki backstory comes out in however many years, I'm putting my shots in now for me to see in the future if I got anything right or close.

My Tanizaki's headcanon

So when it comes to these two obviously most of the fandom wants to ignore the incest joke, so we usually headcanon them as just being normal siblings and take out the weird stuff.

When it comes to canon though, I think it's the other way around. Despite what they say and how they refer to eachother, I genuinely don't think they're siblings or related at all. I'm not the first to think this either, as other people have pointed out that the real Juunichiro had a story on two lovers who pretended to be cousins so they could live together. That, and how in their introduction it started with Atsushi questioning if they were related, and Naomi both insisting they were and acting weird about it enough so that the others tried to ignore them. Having Atsushi even question if they're related already made me suspicious enough that the question will be bought up again when the two start to get put in the spotlight again.

Going into more headcanon/fanfiction territory now, here's how I see their backstory:

Naomi had rich parents, and was an only child. She would get bored easily, and her parents were never the attentive type, so she'd wander off through the streets pretty often.

Juunichiro was a street rat, that Naomi saw and decided she found interesting.

Juunichiro was hostile to Naomi at first, but when she kept bugging him he made plans to get close to her only to trick her and steal from her wealthy family. Unfortunately for him, Naomi herself was both clever and also verbally ruthless. She was having none of his attitude and seemed to have fun talking back to him, which surprised him since he'd always been the most ruthless kid on the streets. She wasn't scared at all. He kept to his plan, but found himself getting meeker around Naomi and following what she said more often than the other way around.

At some point Naomi wanders too far and gets into trouble, until Juunichiro comes to save her and deals with the threats.

Naomi's parents find out, and decide that this boy who seems willing to use violence to protect their daughter could be useful. So they 'adopt' him to be Naomi's bodyguard.

Having a purpose and a home made him not want to lose it at any costs, which also made him obsessive over protecting Naomi who was his purpose. That, and the fact that Naomi was the sole reason he now had a home, food, and a family, made him see her as his saviour. He devoted himself to her, and Naomi enjoyed now having the constant company that her parents wouldn't give her, and being able to boss someone around.

Throughout their time together, mingled in with their co-dependency and obsession, the two of them developed feelings for eachother.

However, now that Juunichiro, lived in the same home as Naomi, he was also able to see what happened behind closed doors. He'd discovered that despite their neglect, Naomi's parents were still perfectionists and they would often punish or physically abuse her if she did something wrong or not up to their standards.

Despite his gratitude to the parents for giving him a home and him initially seeing them as family, his loyalties and devotion stayed with Naomi. His purpose was to protect her. So, him and Naomi staged a plan, for them to runaway together.

Juunichiro doesn't feel like just running away is enough. The parents hurt Naomi, and anyone who hurts Naomi needs to be punished. He doesn't act on this though until the parents find out and their plan, and he attacks them both for revenge for Naomi and to prevent them from stopping them from leaving. His intention was to hurt them, but he hadn't realised until after that he'd also killed them. Despite his brutality, he'd never actually killed someone before. He's in shock and doesn't move, until Naomi urges him to run before anyone finds out and they get into big trouble.

Between the two of them, surprisingly Naomi is the more stable one right now. She's clear headed and ordering Juunichiro to follow her and what to do as they grab their few belongings and act on their runaway plan with more urgency than they initially expected. He just follows along to whatever she says, clinging to her directions as his current only form of stability.

The high energy calms down a bit when they finally make it onto a train, one that'll take them to another city far away from the one they grew up in and now never planned to come back to.

Naomi is both surprised and not to realise that she doesn't feel much grief from her parents' death. Not even at the gruesomes of it caused by the same boy that she's now comforting in her arms while he stays confused and dazed, and maybe even a little horrified at himself.

At this point, Naomi fake sighs and tells Juunichiro that without her parents, she's more alone, and can't rely on them anymore. So as punishment for killing her parents, he has to stick by her side forever and do whatever she says until they both die.

That was her weird way of comforting him. She could tell he felt like he needed to be punished in some way, and he needed something stable to rely on right now. And she wanted someone she could rely on too, to give her the life she wants and never leave her. So she would be there for him, and he would be there for her. It's not exactly a healthy relationship, and it's definitely co-dependant, but they've gone through enough now that would make seperation unbearable for either of them.

They make it to a new city with their belongings and as much money as they could grab from their old house. Unfortunately, they're still teenagers and unwed, so the only way they can live together without drawing attention is to pretend to be siblings. They plan to marry as soon as possible, and even already consider themselves life partners, but until then they stick with a cover story.

They both work different jobs in order to live a decent life and they both save up with the intention of buying a place for themselves one day. They'd like to save up for a nice wedding too, but they'd have no one to invite anyway.

Unfortunately for the two, they're still always on edge. They're wanted murder suspects to high class citizens, and have been unable to have a stable home due to constant moving to avoid detection. They'd stick close together often and barely go anywhere alone, so that they could cover using Juunichiro's ability and could both be sure the other is OK.

(This part gets a little weird, but this headcanon is more about me trying to find ways to make their dynamic more interesting and less weird while not ignoring what happens in canon so that it could be a plausible headcanon)

So unfortunately because I'm trying to make this fit into canon, their incest joke still exists, but here's how it works in this au/headcanon where they're not actually siblings

Naomi and Juunichiro are still pretending to be siblings. They're the Tanizaki's, which to them is a sign of their marriage. Naomi abandoned her family name, and Juunichiro doesn't know what his originally was, so they decided on one together. To everyone else, for the sake of avoiding attention as legally-unwed teens living together, that's their blood family name. The neighbours are unfortunately chatty and nosy, and despite the two rehearsing their cover stories it's still hard to constantly try to come up with and stick to fake details as people pry more in 'polite conversation'. At one point, the two are out in public, in a neighbourhood were people know them as siblings. Naomi without realising people are watching them, gets a little too close to Juunichiro. When she realises she goes to back away, until she notices that everyone seems to be trying VERY hard to ignore the two. So she gets curious, and doubles down a little, getting more uncomfortably close to him. Naomi has picked up that people are very nosy, but it seems that when they're seeing something that makes them uncomfortable it's as if they're trying to pretend the two of them don't even exist. So, the sibling sthick takes a new turn.

She notes that It's important to still be upstanding or useful members of the community despite this, since that will make people more willing to just ignore your faults to keep your benefits, rather than wanting to kick you out for being degenerates.

So they work to be helpful and hardworking members of every new community they end up in, and whenever people start asking questions or prying to much, Naomi gets weird until they're uncomfortable enough to drop the subject.

Juunichiro still feels awkward with this plan, but it's worked for them and he trusts that Naomi knows what she's doing. He doesn't like that people probably see him as weird freak at times, but since he's basically accepted this plan he also doesn't entirely hate the attention from Naomi. It still makes him feel embarrassed though both at the weird assumptions people have of him from this and from Naomi being so forward in public.

At some point Naomi just enjoys getting an excuse to be able to tease Juunichiro in public too.

So yeah in the headcanon that these two are actually lovers pretending to be siblings, the only way I can see the 'incest joke' being written off as anything but a weird fetish is if Naomi is purposely trying to get people to ignore them by making them WANT to ignore them. Then in a weird way, less attention is focused on them and people are questioning their relationship and their past less because they're trying not to think about them.

Like, you know how Dazai will use comedy and acting like a clown sometimes so people underestimate him and don't focus on the fact that he grew up as a genius ex mafia leader or that he's depressed? That's kind of how I see it with Naomi and Juunichiro. Naomi is cunning, and the more forward one between them when it comes to this trope. It's possible that she's purposely encouraging people to not want to ask them questions or think about them by being weird and making them uncomfortable.

Like how after Atsushi questions if they're siblings, Naomi gets weird and then Kunikida tells Atsushi immediately after that it's best to ignore them. If that was the plan, then it's clearly working and people are being encouraged to not think to hard about 'what their deal is'.

It's still weird, very weird, but the joke is still unfortunately canon. So I'd much rather prefer this outcome than for it to be a fetish or for them to be actual siblings.

Anyway back onto other stuff, now with the ADA:

I still don't exactly have an idea of how they'd join the ADA, but at some point they join.

Naomi was homeschooled in their old life, and after a lot of encouragement and reassurance that he can take care of things and is fine to work more for her, Juunichiro encourages Naomi to enroll into an actual school now that they have a place they can stay at for a long time. Naomi refuses to not work as well, staying as a secretary with the ADA, but she is swayed into the idea of attending school alongside her job. It's not so much that she needed the education, but she enjoys the experience of feeling like a normal teenager that she never had before. Naomi is actually just a year younger than Juunichiro in this au, so she fakes her age and joins school just for the final year, then she'll consider college.

Part of their dynamic after just having run away was Juunichiro being the physical strength between the two and Naomi being the mental strength. She made their plans and kept Juunichiro distracted from bad thoughts by getting him to do stuff for her like tidy around the apartment, cooking, shopping errands, etc.

With the ADA, Juunichiro has basically locked the memories of their life before running away into the back of his brain. He's essentially gaslighting himself into believing that most of their cover story backstories are true. That he really is just an average person and that his biggest secret is just him and Naomi being lovers and not siblings. Naomi instead keeps the memories, and makes sure for Juunichiro's sake that he doesn't have to deal with them.

Naomi notes Ranpo as their biggest threat in the ADA, since with his deduction he's likely already figured out a lot about the two of them. She was nervous around him early on, but now she understands that it's not hard to stay on his good side. She feels more comfortable around him since she knows there's no point in hiding things from him, but at the same time she never admits to him or let's on that she's lying, and he never let's on that he knows. But they both know anyway. Like with every member of the agency, Ranpo has an unspoken agreement to not bring up anyone's past that he figures out, unless it directly endangers the agency or affects him. Ranpo does however, know from this that Naomi is smarter than people think she is, so she appreciates having someone that doesn't underestimate her. Ranpo noting this about her also helps her get a good position as one of the president's main secretaries, as she assists him in meetings and advices him on minor things.

She doesn't, however, expect Dazai. Dazai hadn't figured everything out, but he had picked up on the fact that Naomi was using a similar 'distraction' method that he uses and got curious on what she was deflecting on. He didn't dig too deep, but found enough to know that the Tanizaki's had moved pretty frequently over the last few years, and seemed to have different names in each place. Obviously this throws her off guard, and she's thinking of the quickest methods and whether they should ditch for another town, deflect again, or try to get rid of Dazai before he blabs or uses his knowledge against them. Dazai instead, gives Naomi advice on how to better cover her and Juunichiro's tracks. This then becomes a regular thing, where Dazai will teach Naomi a bit more on solid strategies and some combat too so she can fend for herself more when Juunichiro's not there. Dazai could see that Naomi was smart, and she clearly knew this, and there was definitely something that she was trying to hide and had succeeded at so far. She doesn't seem like a bad person, and neither does Juunichiro, so whatever they were covering up Dazai decides could stay covered for now. But as of now Naomi was overestimating her strategies and it could be unraveled easily by someone dedicated enough, so Dazai decided to help a fellow runaway out by building up her mental defences and showing her the right tricks.

So there's my headcanon for the Tanizaki's. I think I'd honestly prefer for them to be fake siblings and actual lovers even with the weirdness because their dynamic is a lot more interesting to explore from that angle. Those two definitely give me the vibe that they're hiding things and this is just a possibility I made up from what we know about them rn.

Even if you remove the incest jokes, Juunichiro's obsession with Naomi and him seeing her as a God still feels too weird as a sibling dynamic for me. I personally am not a fan of the 'older brother obsessed with and protective/possessive of his younger sister' trope.

Even if they do end up being canonically related or actual siblings in any way in the future, I think I'm just gonna ignore it cause:

1) Ew

2) I like my version better and I'm more interested in this version of them.

I still like the fanon version of 'normal siblings Tanizaki's' too though, I just think it's unfortunately too far from canon to happen like that.

[linabirb]

What are your favourite ship tropes? 👀

tysm for asking this!! warning some tropes can be very. specific

pink and purple. red and blue. you get it.

"i know i tried to kill you like ten minutes earlier but for some reason we're besties now <3 yayyyyyy"

"i NEED to save you. i WILL save you. the things i'm going to do to save you and how healthy my obsession with saving you is depends on the media i'm from and what kind of person i am"

a character gets saved by the character you least expected that from and it turns out they actually have a lot in common and their relationship has a lot of potential. also both of them have trauma that they can heal from together <3

characters trying to heal each other in general is one of my most fav ship tropes. i like it in both cute and fluffy and toxic and unhealthy ways 😌

this image. again, can be in a cute way, but also can be in an insane and violent and toxic yandere way

characters slowly going insane together and making each other worse for some reason!

characters have something the other doesn't have and wishes someone could give them

"i know i've said i'm over you but i lied so let's repeat the toxic relationship cycle again babey!!"

on the other hand i also love ships that you THINK are toxic at first but then you learn more about them and you're like. what the hell. they're so cute actually. i am going to bite them. or maybe they're still toxic but they also have moments that make you think "omg.. there's still love they just don't know how to express it.." it makes me want to run away into the woods with tears in my eyes /pos

character a worshipping character b and there being an implication that character b POSSIBLY likes them back. maybe. who knows.

SUN X MOON...

character a who is so so pure and so so innocent from the outside but is actually a menace x character b who has a horrible reputation but is actually a sweetie

"for one reason or another, i literally can't leave you alone. maybe we have no choice but to be together because of some kind of contract, maybe i'm haunting you, maybe there's an arranged marriage, but anyway hiiiii <3 good luck getting rid of me"

whatever these two have going on

two chaotic and insane people are together now and they're about to become even more chaotic and insane everyone be careful

character a has trouble understanding even the most "basic" things for some reason, maybe they're just a little silly or they're implied to have some kind of disability and character b is genuinely very patient with them and explains them everything and answers all their questions and they're the only one who treats them so kindly. ships like this save my cold and tired soul

😆 x 😐. don't need to say anything else

[zedif-y]

i would kill for my friends . btw .

[maruflix]

CAVE CANEM #oneshot #squidgame #thefrontman

Cave canem. Beware of dogs. In the ruthless games, there are countless hounds looking for prey. Oh Young-Il promises to be your shield, your shepherd, your guardian angel— but you soon find out that it’s often the unassuming ones who are the most dangerous.

feat. the frontman / hwang in-ho / oh young-il　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.5k

cw: female reader, yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, manipulation, squid game spoilers, i’ll use all of his names & nicknames here so don’t get confused, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like all 455 players in season 1

I.

It’s funny how tragedy brings people together.

It has only been twenty two hours since you entered the twisted battle royale with 45.6 billion won dangled on top of you, but you’ve found companionship in fellow participants: Player 456 Seong Gi-hun, Player 388 Kang Dae-ho, Player 390 Park Jung-bae, and Player 001.

Oh, Player 001.

“How are your wounds?”

You look up to see Player 001 — or, as he introduced himself to you, Oh Young-il. His eyes gleam in worry as he takes in your appearance: hair disheveled, knee bruised, sleeves rolled up to reveal the scratches littering your hands.

You’re just glad you didn’t get killed during the Red Light, Green Light stampede.

“This is nothing,” you assured him with a genuine smile, “thank you for helping me.”

Young-il pauses. Then, as if remembering something, he reaches into his pockets and hands you a small carton of milk. “Here. You must be dehydrated.” He watches as you gratefully take it, instantly drinking the contents, “Don’t worry about the next game. We’ll get through it together.”

Tears are brimming in your eyes at the kind man’s encouragement. You let him take your hand and nod at him, smiling. “Thank you, Young-il-ssi.”

Young-il gives you one last smile before climbing back down to rejoin the rest of the group. His movements alerts Jung-bae, who mindlessly throws a glance his way.

Jung-bae instantly pauses. He knew from the start that Player 001 is not a simple man, but the expression on Young-il’s face is nothing short of terrifying, like a tiger eyeing its’ prey. He follows Young-il’s line of sight and finds you, curled on one of the beds.

A chill runs down his spine.

II.

You don’t know how you got through the Six-Legged Pentathlon, but you did.

Chosen as the one to play ddakji — it’s not like you sucked at it, but you were scared you would be a burden to your teammates — your hands couldn’t stop trembling.

The squares of ddakji felt like rocks in your hand, your shoulders heavy by the fear of dragging everyone down. Their encouragement and cheers merely heightened your anxiety.

That was, until a hand gently clasps your own. “Don’t think too much about it. You said you won more times than the ddakji guy, didn’t you?” Young-il’s eyes twinkle, his shoulders lax, as if he’s not currently playing for his life, “Well, you won’t receive slaps if you fail, so go wild.” It’s amazing how he manages to silence all your fears.

You flipped the ddakji on your first try.

III.

In-ho knew it from the start, but the reality of it still disgusts him. Humans are selfish creatures, blinded by greed, driven by instincts.

He sighs, looking at the results of the vote— 139 for ‘O’ and 116 for ‘X’. One hundred and thirty nine people marching to their own deaths like brainless maggots.

He sneaks a glance your way and sees that you’re shuddering. His heart drops to the pits of his stomach. Slipping away from Gi-hun, he makes his way to you. He keeps on surprising himself: joining Player 456 in the games, cheering with the others during the pentathlon, and now comforting you?

But In-ho is not one to ruminate over his actions too much. He knows what he wants, he gets what he wants, and right now all he wants is to hold you in his arms.

“Young-il,” your eyes instantly land on his and he wonders how it will feel to hear you call him by his real name, “I’m scared. I’m so scared, I don’t want to die!”

He’s beside you the next second, catching you before you can fall to the ground, strong arms wrapped securely on your waist. In-ho falters for a fraction of a second, but his hand quickly shoots up to caress your hair.

Receiving the kindest act for the first time in many years, you can’t help but to cry in his warm embrace, letting out all your frustration and fear. His touches are so tender, so serene, and being enveloped in his tall figure makes you feel protected.

In-ho calms your sobs with gentle shushes, rubbing circles on your back. He was unsure then, but his heart is determined now— he wants you, he’s got to have you, and there’s nothing under the seven heavens that will stop him.

He shudders at the thought of having you all to himself. In-ho can barely control himself right now, when you fit so good in his arms, your skin brushing against his. What would it feel like? To have you next to him every second of every day? He’d shower you with all of him— all his riches, all his affection, all his time.

First, the two of you will have to exit the game safely.

His grip on you tightens as he lifts his gaze from your trembling figure to the several pink guards stationed near the door. In the distance, they straighten their posture in alarm.

Even among the many faces of the players, they can locate their boss in a heartbeat — the Front Man is still the Front Man, even if he’s amusing himself by playing dress up. The way he carries himself is so telling, they have no idea how the players are none the wiser to the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.

... And right now, their superior’s glare speaks volumes about what he’s conveying.

A warning.

IV.

‘One more game,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said.

The rotating stage under your feet is spinning at a controlled pace, yet you feel like you’re going to throw up. The light feels blinding, the gasps from the participants making your head spin even more.

Amidst all the chaos, Young-il’s hand clasping yours serves as an anchor.

“You okay?” His voice is as gentle as ever, unworried.

Even Gi-hun, the former winner of the games, is not exempt to the anxiety and apprehension that shadows the rest of them, but Young-il has never showed any signs of stress— like he has a safety net... or like he’s very sure of his own abilities.

You nod, grateful that he’s allowed you to stick by him like glue all this time. He squeezes your hand in encouragement, smiling.

“Two.” The woman’s voice announces cheerily. In an instant, the crowd erupts in disarray.

Young-il looks around. “Stick close to me,” he murmurs before pulling you with him towards one of the rooms. Not wanting to be a burden to him, you quickly fall in line, matching his steps. His back is very comforting as he cleverly navigates the chaotic hall, avoiding the other players.

Just when the two of you reached the door, a player appears, crashing into the two of you and sending you tumbling away from Young-il. Your world spins as you struggle to pick yourself up, searching for him.

Thankfully, you locate him almost immediately. A few steps away from the door, Young-il is strangling your attacker. “Get in! I’ll be right behind you!”

Fueled by adrenaline, you nod frantically, moving to enter the room. But there’s already another person inside.

True to his word, Young-il quickly scrambles to the room, slamming the door behind him. He immediately takes note of the anomaly, his expression dark.

“I-I was here first!” The stranger sputtered, shuffling away from Young-il.

There are loud bangs coming from the other side of the door and you quickly hold onto the lock, tears now falling from your eyes. “Sorry!” You yell, ”Sorry!”

“Five. Four. Three.” The countdown continues mercilessly.

You look back, “The other guy—!” but your words are caught in your throat.

Young-il has the man in a chokehold. For a moment you had no idea why he’s handling the guy so aggressively when it’s obvious that he’s more scared of the two of you than the two of you are of him.

“Two.”

“Young-il!”

“One.”

CRACK!

You scream. The man slips from Young-il’s hold, limp.

Lifeless.

Young-il’s gaze meets yours. There’s an emotion you can’t quite place on them, but it’s quickly replaced by that of horror. “I-I had to do it.” Tears start to brim on the corner of his eyes, his hands visibly shaking, “I had to-” he desperately crawls away from the dead man as he covers his face in terror, “I’m a monster, I-”

Crying, you kneel next to him, pulling him into an embrace, “No, you’re not,” assuring him in between sobs, “it’s this game, it’s the game’s doing, it’s not your fault!”

Breath haggard, In-ho rubs your head comfortingly. You didn’t even realize that he has long since stopped crying. He covers your ears, knowing by now that the sound of gunshots horrifies you, and glances at the body of the man he just killed.

You watched him kill one guy and you get this rattled? He sighs quietly.

For you, he would kill a thousand more.

V, PART ONE.

“Hey girl,” a voice booms from behind you, catching you by surprise.

You let go of your hand that’s holding Young-il’s, turning your head to address the stranger.

“Saw you from afar and I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” The purple haired man wastes no time getting into your space, running a hand through his hair. “D’ya know who I am? Because I wanna know who you are.”

You stiffen up. Of course you know him. Who didn’t? The number one ambassador of the ‘O’ team, aka the people who wish to continue the games, the outspoken menace, Thanos.

Thanos catches sight of something behind you and wavers before looking back at you. “A-anyway. I’ll see you around. Team’s always open, baby!” He exclaims, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide his nervousness.

You look back to see Young-il smiling at you. “Wonder what that’s about.”

The people here freaks you out. You sigh. “I know, right?”

In-ho hums, his finger treading along the sharp edges of the fork.

V, PART TWO.

The bathroom is a mess— team ‘O’ and team ‘X’, warring against each other, fueled by the actions of a junkie who’s high out of his mind.

In the middle of it all, Hwang In-ho calmly makes his way to a purple haired man who is slumped on the ground, yelling at his friend.

“Get him, get that sucker! He tried to kill me, man!”

A dark shadow looms over Thanos, and he looks up in terror, recognizing In-ho immediately. “W-what are you-?”

In-ho eyes him coldly before swinging down.

The cold gleam of a fork is the last thing Thanos sees before it penetrates his neck.

VI.

The fire of revolution burns bright behind all of you. Your hands may tremble, but your rifle is secure in your arms. All those first person shooter games are finally coming in handy as you manage to actually shoot down several guards.

“You okay?!” Young-il questions in panic, “You’re doing a good job! It’s gonna get more dangerous afterwards, but I can’t leave you behind!”

You nod, reassuring him, following him up the stairs with two other men in tow. Right now, you are brother-in-arms, comrades, fighting for your freedom.

Young-il halts, sensing the presence of a guard, before speaking into the comm, “Gi-hun-ssi, we found it.” he holds out an arm in front of you like a shield, “Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we’ll hit them from behind.”

Your knees tremble in fear and anticipation. Somehow, with Young-il on your side, you feel like this ragtag team of freedom fighters can actually succeed.

“Okay, got it!” Gi-hun’s invigorated reply came from the other side.

Young-il pockets the comm, nodding to the two men. They nod back in response and move forward. He quickly moves in front of you, signaling you to stay behind him.

Just when you thought about how reliable he is, two sharp gunshots resonates in the air.

Is it over?

You peek from behind Young-il’s back only to be met by the horrific sight of Player 015 and Player 047 sprawled on the ground, choking on their own blood.

Young-il’s rifle is still pointed at the two of them, his eyes cold.

Who is this person? You scramble to get away from him, alarm bells ringing in your head. Did he miss his shot? Did I see wrong? Is there a guard in front of him?

“Young-il-ssi, what’s going on?” came Gi-hun’s distressed voice from the comm, “Are you shooting?”

You watch in horror as Young-il calmly reloads his rifle before squatting down and glancing your way. “Gi-hun-ssi, I’m sorry.” Like a seasoned actor, the unscathed Young-il puts on a strained voice, “It’s all over. They got us too.”

Gi-hun’s voice is blurred as you fall to your knees, finally coming into terms with the betrayal of the person you’ve come to trust the most.

Young-il momentarily looks away from you to shoot the two men one more time. Cold, unfeeling, his fingers steady like he’s done this countless times before.

This is not the Young-il you know.

When it’s all over, several pink guards march up to him, a coat and a black mask in tow. Young-il (?) lifts a hand up to stop them, turning to finally address you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, your fingers desperately trying to locate the trigger on your rifle, but the man in front of you is much quicker. He yanks the rifle from your trembling hands, unloading the bullets and kicking the weapon away as you back away to the wall, shivering in fear.

He sighs, taking the coat from one of the guards before kneeling down to your height. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

Confused, you can only gape at him. “W-who are you..?”

“Hwang In-ho. My real name.” he offers, tenderly wiping a tear from your cheek, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ll explain everything, if you’ll just give me a chance..?”

In one swift motion, he wraps his coat around your shoulders. You look at his eyes, as tender and unchanging as ever— then it dawns on you: he has always been this way.

“Mr. Front Man, sir, everything is ready.”

You let In-ho pull you to your feet, his touch as comforting as ever as the two of you pass by countless guards. They make way for the two of you, the hierarchy crystal clear when not one of them dare to step out of line.

You’ve been such a fool. All the signs were there, the reason why Player 001 carries himself with such grace as if he’s untouchable. How the guards say things about ‘not tolerating actions that will disrupt the votes’ and yet kept quiet when it’s Player 001’s turn to speak his mind. The way they would shuffle away from him slightly whenever he walks—

In-ho turns to look at you, his eyes kind, “Do you trust me?”

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to say no.

note: i know i appeared on the dash absolutely losing it over the recruiter/the salesman/ddakji guy (he’ll get his own fic after this don’t worry) but i took one look at this man with his hair down and i fell into a SPIRAL. this is totally a passion project. front man ftw 🙆‍♀️

[sorrowsofsilence]

liminal • n.s

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!reader (oneshot)

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Angst, Part Smut 18+ (fem!receiving), mean!noah, fixing(ish) an unhealthy relationship, alcohol / cigarettes

Prompt: he hates you. yet, he hates that he’s so obsessed with you.

Authors note: This is something I slowly worked on throughout my Taiwan practicum. I had planned for a hot sexy one-shot and instead, it turned out like this lmao (I think, despite how much fun I had, I was feeling angsty and sad) sooooo, here's this. Not my finest work IMO but it is something, to get the writing brain sparked again :-:

+

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

Noah’s eyes narrowed, dark brown slits fixated on the smile planted on your face as the stranger next to you leaned into your ear.

You let out a laugh that echoed across the room, causing the brunette to become even more irritated. He leaned against the wall, refusing to look away from you.

He furrowed his brows as he placed a cigarette between his lips and took a drag, inhaling the smoke with a grimace, and a hand suddenly clapped him on the back, causing him to double over and cough.

Annoyed, he turned to see Folio with a drunken smile on his face like a jester, "You know, for someone who claims to despise her, you sure do stare at her a lot."

Noah let out a bitter laugh at his friend's comment, only briefly glancing at the drummer before returning his attention to you.

As you laughed again and leaned closer to the stranger, tilting your head with interest, Noah felt sick.

"Fuck off," he spat, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Folio chuckled beside him and swayed unsteadily, "I'm just saying, your actions show otherwise."

Noah scoffed and blew smoke through his teeth as he shook his head, "I want nothing to do with her. She's annoying." But deep down, he knew it was a lie.

In reality, he was obsessed with you. Every thought in his mind was consumed by thoughts of you. The coffee he had this morning? Your favorite kind. The movie he watched on the bus? One you had mentioned loving before. The song he couldn't stop listening to? The one that was playing when you two first met, over a year ago now.

Yet despite all this, you never showed any interest in him. In fact, you seemed to avoid him whenever possible.

And he knew he was the reason why.

Pulling his gaze from you, he flicked the cigarette away and tried to focus on the grungy bar wall before him- anything but your laughter. He hated the way it echoed through his mind, drowning out everything else around him. He hated how his heart stuttered when the sound reached his ears.

"You're pathetic, Noah," Folio slurred beside him, leaning heavily against the wall. He held an empty beer bottle loosely in his hand.

This comment should have provoked anger like most of Folio's words did, but he knew it was true.

“She’s done nothing to you, yet you treat her like shit.”

The brunette laughed bitterly, exhaling a plume of smoke before tossing the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Did I ask for your input, Folio?" Noah retorted, his voice laced with poisonous acidity, "No, I don't believe I did."

Pushing off the wall, he sidestepped Folio's swaying attempt to stop him and marched towards the bar in a few determined strides.

"Noah!" Folio called after him in a drunken daze, but Noah ignored him, instead focusing on blocking out the laughter ringing through the room.

And yet, even as he reached the bar and leaned against it, ordering another drink with an irritated grunt, Noah couldn't stop himself from darting one more glance in your direction. You were still chatting and laughing as if there weren't a care in the world.

Swirling the drink in hand, an acidic taste of bitter resentment washed over him as he gulped. He slammed back shots after shots, each stinging swallow seemed to fade away into insignificance when compared to the pain of seeing you so carefree and unattainable.

As his vision began to blur around the edges and his sense of balance teetered on the edge, Noah lost count.

He felt the familiar sting of alcohol in his throat and welcomed it, hoping that every shot he took would help him forget—but every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He was stuck in an endless loop of self-loathing, alcohol, and you.

Noah’s hand trembled as he raised the shot glass for yet another round; the liquid sploshed over the rim, dribbling down his fist - it was the first sign of his escalating intoxication. He squinted at the mirrored wall before him, trying to form coherent words to order yet another round.

Then, he saw you or rather, your reflection. You had abandoned your comfortable spot next to the stranger and were now making your way towards him, pushing through the clusters of bodies in a determined fashion. Panic boiled with the alcohol in his veins. He quickly turned away from the mirror, pretending to study something at the end of the bar.

"Noah,” you stopped right beside him, and for a moment he thought he could smell you amidst the stench of alcohol, body sweat, and stale smoke. Your perfume was a faint note wafting through it all - a sweet scent that clashed with his surroundings and hurtled him even further into his spiral of self-loathing.

He didn't turn to face you, but he could sense your uneasy presence.

"Noah," you began again, this time softer, feeling the hostile coldness radiating from him.

"You’re drunk," you stated matter-of-factly, reaching out and pulling the shot glass from his alcohol-slicked hand. Overhead music thumped against his eardrums and he swallowed roughly, his jaw clenching as he finally turned to face you. Your expression was softer than he anticipated; sympathy and worry replacing the joy-filled laughter that had resonated within each corner of the bar minutes before.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," He retorted bitterly, veering his attention away from your accusing gaze and towards his empty shot glass instead. He moved forward to reach for it once more but you were quicker, sliding the glass out of his reach and signalling to the bartender.

"No more for him tonight," you instructed, your voice steady but he could detect an underlying note of concern as your gaze alternated between him and the burly man behind the bar.

"Mind your own fucking business," he seethed, feeling a pang of anger ricocheting off his skull. Swiping his arm across the counter, Noah managed to snag another shot glass filled to the brim before throwing it back and wincing at the harsh liquid burning down his throat.

He could feel your disapproving stare on him; it was both satisfying and infuriating.

"Noah…" Your voice was pleading now. It was so unlike you, so gentle and empathetic that he nearly choked on his anguish.

"Didn’t you hear me?" He chastised bitterly, slamming the empty glass onto the counter, "Or are you just as deaf as you are ignorant?"

You winced, quickly replacing the dejection with a scowl. Yet, instead of responding, you merely sighed and reached into your pocket, pulling out a small wad of cash and tossing it onto the counter. Without another word, you grabbed his arm, your grip surprisingly firm in comparison to your soft voice.

He didn't resist you as you dragged him away from the bar and through the throng of loud, drunken patrons.

The cool outside air hit him when you pushed open the exit door, clearing his foggy mind a little. He pulled his arm from your grip and staggered away, leaning against the brick wall for support.

"Why do you care?" he spat angrily, turning his bleary gaze to you. Your eyes held that same softness he had seen at the bar, now accompanied by a sad frown.

He scowled, disgusted by the fabricated pity radiating off you.

"I don't," You replied in annoyance, before letting out a soft sigh, "I just couldn't stand watching you become another wasted drunk in that bar. And your photoshoots tomorrow so you’ll look like shit if you don’t stop.”

"It's my life, isn't it?" He spat back, his words slurred and barely intelligible.

He pushed away from the wall, trying to reestablish some distance between the two of you, “I don’t need you acting as my manager. I pay Matt for a reason.”

“It is your life,” You conceded, straightening up to your full height, “But as your photographer, I’m looking out for you.”

“Just as my photographer, huh?”

He echoed your words in a low voice, with cold mockery. But deep down, they stung. The silence that stretched between you two was filled with the noises of the city: far-off laughter, screeching tires, and the hollow echo of a lonely siren. He pushed his tangled locks out of his eyes and stared at you, a challenge in his gaze.

For a moment your eyes wavered, flickering over to him as if you were about to say something more. But you quickly turned away and gave a vague nod.

"Just as your photographer, Noah," you confirmed, your voice steady but he could see that your lips tightened.

His heart roared its protest but he gave you a dismissive wave.

“Fantastic,” he spat back with as much sarcasm he could muster, "Don't push yourself too hard for my sake."

"I won't," you shot back, shrugging off his bitterness as easily as if it were an old jacket. You turned away then, leaving him to stew in silence under the harsh glare of the streetlamp.

He watched your retreating figure with a burning intensity, all his regret and anger pooling into a bitter pit in his stomach. As he saw you disappear round the corner, he felt a pang of longing. Regret.

For once, he wished for you to look back, or better - to stay. But you didn't.

You never did.

Feeling a chill settling on him, Noah slid down onto the grimy pavement, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one up slowly as if taking his time would somehow delay the sting of reality. The smoke curled upwards, disappearing into the cool night air — ephemeral, just like what was left of his dignity.

With a heavy sigh, Noah pulled the cigarette from his lips, gazing at the glowing ember as if it held the answers to his misery. Each puff was a silent, disgusting prayer vibrating out into the universe, swallowed up by the sky that never listened to his pleas.

Suddenly, he started laughing—a low, humourless sound that resonated off the empty street. How pathetic was he, hoping for answers in a goddamn cigarette ember?

The night was quiet, unresponsive to his breakdown. It was as cold and uncaring as he always thought you were, as indifferent as you proved yourself tonight.

As distant as the love he craved but never found reciprocated—that was how he felt about you.

But then footsteps echoed off the brick, getting closer and closer to him.

And suddenly you were there, clutching onto Noah’s jacket with a firm grip.

"Forgot your damn jacket, asshole," you muttered irritably, flinging the piece of clothing at him.

His reflexes weren't quick enough, so instead of catching the jacket, it ended up draped across his lap. In the silence that stretched, he thought he saw a flicker of hesitation in your eyes...or maybe it was pity.

He took another drag of the cigarette, then spat onto the ground before flicking the remaining butt onto the concrete.

"If you hate the taste, why do you keep smoking?"

"Why do you keep asking pointless fucking questions?" Noah snapped back, giving you a piercing stare.

“Why are you always such a fucking asshole?” You sighed, brows furrowing in anger. You knew now was not the time to ask questions but the word vomit spewed forth anyways.

"Maybe because you're always so fucking annoying," Noah countered venomously, his words carrying a warning of a fit of anger quick to unravel.

"Stop avoiding the question!" You exclaimed, looking frustrated, “You’ve been acting this way since we met! I’m sick and fucking tired of being treated like complete shit by you.”

"Great," He replied sarcastically, forcing himself to his feet, "Quit then. I didn't ask you to stick around."

The finality of his words echoed in the silence between them. They stung like hell, tearing through the icy air and hitting you like a train. There was no room for negotiation; it was a clear ultimatum.

"I…" You started, your voice barely even a whisper. The hurt was evident on your face but you quickly masked it with a hardened exterior.

“Maybe I will,” You shot back, meeting his gaze head-on.

You took a step back, distancing yourself from him. A wave of vulnerability washed over you but you kept your stance firm and determined, refusing to allow him to see your weakness. The dimly lit street blurred your vision, painting Noah inside thick shadows. But there in the gloom, you could still make out that cocky grin he always wore when he got under your skin.

"So quit!" he retorted with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest.

His nonchalance hung in the air between you like a brutal slap to your face.

You tugged at your sleeves nervously and took one last look at him. The cold street light painted harsh shadows onto his callous features; the skin under his eyes looked darker than usual. For a moment, despite all his bravado and cruelty, you almost felt sorry for him.

"Fine," You finally uttered, each word like poison on your tongue. The venom in your voice surprised even yourself, but there was no turning back now, "I'm done. Fuck you, Noah."

Then you turned, just like before and walked away.

Only this time, something in Noah cracked. A stark realization that felt like an invisible punch straight to his gut - he was the only one responsible for pushing you away.

"No," He murmured hesitantly at first, watching your retreating as every step you took sent a flare of panic through his system.

"No!" This time his voice resonated through the empty street. The echo bounced off the barren walls as if mocking him in his misery. He stood up, chest heaving in drunken contemplation.

"No!" He shouted again, racing off after you through the maze of alleyways. The cool night air bit at his face, tugging at his hair and clothes in a desperate attempt to slow him down.

He didn't know why it mattered now. Why, when he'd already pushed you far beyond your limits, and vilified himself beyond redemption, he still felt a desperate need to make things right.

Or maybe, Noah realized as he sprinted full tilt towards the receding echo of your footsteps, it was because, despite everything, he cared. He cared more than he'd allowed himself to admit.

"Wait!" He shouted out hoarsely, pumping his legs as fast as they would carry him until finally, your silhouette came into view once more. You froze mid-step as if contemplating turning around or keep walking.

Seeing you hesitate gave him that glimmer of hope which fuelled his final sprint till he was standing in front of you, panting heavily from the exertion. His sharp eyes studied your figure in the dim lighting of a distant street lamp, his gaze intense and desperate.

“You were supposed to keep walking,” Noah rasped out after he managed to collect enough breath, his mind fighting his body as he stepped closer toward you.

“Why?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively across your chest, stepping backwards.

“Because…” His voice trailed off as he struggled to put his chaotic feelings into words. He looked away for a moment, gathering himself.

When he finally met your gaze again, there was an uncharacteristic vulnerability that had crept into his voice, “Because I can’t keep pushing you away.”

You blinked at him, processing his words. There was a long stretch of silence between you two as the cool nocturnal breeze gently rustled.

“And why is that? You’d have trouble sleeping at night without someone to torment?” The sarcasm in your voice was thick, but it hinted at something more - a sliver of hurt seeping through the cracks of your anger.

Noah shook his head, running a hand through his tangled hair, "You don’t get it, do you?" He growled, frustration edging into his voice.

"Get what?" You shot back, your gaze unwavering.

Noah shouted before turning away from you, pacing a couple of steps back and forth, “I just can’t stand the thought of you not being here. I need you.”

That revelation hung heavy in the air, wrapping around the both of you like a shroud. He needed you. After all that was said and done, that was his bare truth. His earlier bravado was nowhere to be found, just raw honesty.

You stared at him – really stared at him – for the first time in what felt like an eternity, taking in the sight of Noah: unkempt, haggard and vulnerable. It wasn't a sight you were used to seeing and it unsettled you.

"You need me," The words seemed absurd as they fell from your lips, incredulous.

A bitter laugh rose to your throat but died before it could pass your lips, "If you need me, you've got a fucked-up way of showing it."

"I told you," Noah snapped, agitation seeping into his tone, "I'm an asshole."

"An asshole that 'needs me'," you retorted with a roll of your eyes, “You’re messing with me.”

"No," Noah insisted, his gaze levelling with yours, "I'm not messing with you."

A moment's silence intercepted as he let the gravity of his admission sink in. The air between you was tense and fraught with a slew of complex emotions – shared longing, regret and frustration.

"Do you even understand what you're saying?" Your words echoed through the bare passageways, shattering the very core of silence lurking around them.

"I think so," he admitted hesitantly, "Believe it or not, I do."

"You 'think so'?" You repeated, frustration evident in your tone.

"No. Actually," Noah corrected himself, taking an unsteady step towards you; an abrupt hesitation weighing down his tangled words.

His eyes were pleading now, "I know so."

The sincerity in his voice took you by surprise; you squinted at him through the semi-darkness.

“You’ve treated me like absolute shit since we’ve met Noah. One year of you being rude, selfish, and just straight-up mean! And why? All because you want me?” You tried not to laugh, shaking your head as if to dismiss this absurd idea.

But why did your stomach flutter

"I don't get it either," Noah responded sharply, completely off balance with the turmoil of the conversation. He ran a hand through his hair once more, "I can't explain half the shit I do or say to you.”

You crossed your arms again as if shielding yourself from his words. But when you spoke, your voice was surprisingly soft and devoid of its usual flippant defence, "Then maybe you should try harder."

A silence fell between you two again, ringing loudly in your ears. You stared at each other for a while, a silent battleground where words were weapons and silence was an uncertain truce.

Slowly, hesitantly, Noah took a step toward you. His dark eyes bore into yours, the moonlight reflecting off them with an almost eerie intensity. For a moment, in that silent exchange, you saw him stripped of all his defences, vulnerable and bare.

“Yeah. I will try harder. Because the truth is, you drive me fucking nuts,” He whispered, standing inches from you now. His breath brushed your forehead as you stared up at him, hands hesitant to push against his chest.

But you did just that, feeling his racing heart beneath the cloth.

"You have consumed my mind. And there's nothing I can do about it. Even if I wanted to," Noah went on, his voice cracking with the brutal honesty of his confession.

Your eyes flitted up to meet- the sinking October sea radiant in the dark. “You do a brilliant job at hiding it,” you said, the venom in your words tainted by doubt.

Noah laughed again, but there was no mirth in his eyes; only a raw, shared pain and understanding that transcended your mutual resentment.

“I suppose,” he said, taking another step closer as you involuntarily stepped back against the cold brick. Your hands still pushed against his chest but faltered as he stepped closer, holding you against the wall.

Inexorably drawn to you despite your resistance – or perhaps because of it – Noah found himself looming over you, one arm braced against the wall next to your head boxing you in. The immediate proximity made every breath you drew quiver.

"Let me go," you warned, your eyes brimming with defiance and a hint of fear, your hands pushing him away without conviction. But Noah didn't move. He just hung there, inches away from you, a look of palpable desperation on his face.

"I can't..." Noah whispered, sounding more to himself than to you. His gaze flickered to your lips for a fleeting moment before locking with your startled eyes once more. It was in this moment that you saw him - truly saw him for the first time.

Behind the hostile exterior was a man who grappled with complexities just as you did. His struggle was reflected in his piercing gaze – both harshly real and terrifyingly vulnerable at the same time.

"Coward," you spat, voice trembling along with your heart. His stubborn refusal to move stirred a maelstrom inside of you. But even as the word floated between the two of you, your hands had stilled on his chest and somewhat relaxed, betraying your seemingly confident exterior.

"Maybe," he admitted, his gaze remaining deeply locked with yours. His hand came up, fingers brushing against your cheek in an unnerving tenderness that felt almost alien coming from him, "Or maybe I'm just scared."

"Scared of what?" You scoffed, trying - and failing - to keep the quiver out of your voice.

"Of losing you," He whispered honestly, dropping the hard shell built around him. The rawness in his tone was enough to catalyze the slow crumbling of walls around both your hearts.

His confession hung between you.

"You've never had me to begin with," you managed to retort eventually, your voice barely audible.

"And that is what scares me," Noah's response was immediate and sincere, "If I push you away first, you can’t hurt me."

"Your logic is flawed, Noah," you snorted, although the harshness lacked the conviction needed to drive him away.

Noah winced as if your words had physically struck him, "Isn't it?" he mockingly retorted, but his levity was inadequate to mask the vulnerability seeping through.

"You have no guarantee that I would hurt you," you countered stubbornly, "And even if I did..." you paused, suddenly uncertain. The idea that you could cause him pain was oddly upsetting.

"And even if you did?" Noah prodded gently.

"You'd survive," you finished reluctantly. Your gaze dropped from his face, focusing at some abstract point on his broad chest.

“It’s not about surviving. It’s about not understanding why it’s you that I want so badly. I don’t know how to handle this... intensity. I have never felt this way for anyone else before," His voice was barely audible, echoing the vulnerable tremor that had crept into his tone.

A moment of silence ensued as you absorbed the gravity of his confession. Noah's gaze remained locked on your face, watching as emotions flickered like ephemeral flames in your wide eyes. Somewhere between disbelief, anger and overwhelming sadness, you drowned in a frustration tinged with regret.

"Reducing me to an object of fear does not justify your cruel actions, Noah," you whispered, holding his gaze. Your hands clenched at your sides, urging every single nerve ending to maintain resistance against the man leaning dangerously close to you.

"Is that what this is?" Noah's features hardened at your accusation. Eyes narrowing, lips pressed into a thin line again. "Fear?"

"What else could it possibly be?" You shot back acerbically, jerking away from his touch - but he quickly caught your wrist, not in a punishing grasp but with an almost desperate hold.

“More than fear,” His voice barely a whisper, his eyes hollow, “It’s despair. It’s knowing that I would never be good enough for you - that you'll find someone who is.”

You stiffened at his words, unable to respond or look away from his penetrating gaze. You remembered every slight, every curt word he’d fired your way, wondering now if they were born of this terror he talked about.

"Noah," you murmured, feeling suddenly weak. He watched your every breath, waiting, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding.

“I hate feeling this way," he confessed with an overwhelming gravity in his tone. "It’s like...” Noah exhaled heavily as if the admission was physically draining him. "Like I'm in the middle of a lake... And just when I think I'm about to drown... I see you on shore, standing there... watching."

Your heart ached at his words, but you kept your expression neutral, aware that any break in semblance could send him retreating back into his shell.

For a while, an uncomfortable silence stretched between you two, broken only by the distant howl of the wind.

“Noah,” you said, meeting his gaze with newfound determination, “I can’t be held responsible for your fears.”

You could see him flinch, even though he tried to hide it, his gaze faltering from yours. “No… you’re right. You can’t. I’m to blame for letting this get out of hand.”

As you were about to sigh, Noah pressed his forehead against yours. The scent of stale cigarettes and alcohol filled your senses, and somehow, it was comforting.

“I need you,” he whispered, closing his eyes briefly before staring into your own.

You whispered his name as his lips brushed against yours; but you pushed his chest, turning your head away.

“You’re drunk.”

Your words snapped back to him, causing his shoulders to falter as he then clung to your body. Engulfing you into his chest, you wrapped your arms around him, your own chest heaving with the confession that lingered between you.

You’ve always found him irritably attractive. Even through his asshole demeanour, you wanted him to.

But not now. Not while he stood there, vulnerable.

“Let’s get back to the bus.”

+++++

Things weren’t the same now, and the rest of the crew noticed.

The next morning Noah’s head pounded as he laid in his bunk. A symphony of aches in his body reminded him of the previous night's raw conversation with you. His mouth felt like a sandbox, grains of regret cramped on his tongue.

“What the hell happened last night?” a dishevelled Ruffilo slid from the bunk above Noah. His voice pierced through the pounding in Noah's head like a well-aimed knife.

Noah grunted, shielding his eyes from the intrusive morning light streaming from an open window.

“Don’t remember,” he muttered, his voice raspy from sleep and too much alcohol.

Nicholas scoffed, tugging on a t-shirt crumpled on the floor, "You expect anybody to believe that?"

“Not my problem,” Noah grumbled, rolling over to ignore further questioning.

The remainder of their ride was spent in an unusual silence disrupted intermittently by the rumble of the bus over bumpy roads and occasional small talks among band members.

Your mutual avoidance turned noticeable. You were unusually still, almost as if your vivacious spark had been snuffed out, an unusual calm that gave away your internal storm. Similarly, Noah wore an impenetrable outer shell, venturing out only for a smoke or a swig from his water bottle.

There was a thick blanket of tension cast over the bus, which twitched and palpitated with each stolen glance between you two. It was like everyone aboard the bus could quite literally feel the static charge crackling in the air.

"Is something wrong?" Jolly finally broke the silence, oblivious to the undercurrent. His loud question rang through the silent bus, making everyone flinch at the sudden noise.

Nothing was said for a moment as all eyes turned to you, then Noah. You wrapped your arms tighter around your body, staring out at the road unfurling before you. "Nothing's wrong," came your curt reply.

Jolly was about to retort when a sharp glare from Nicholas stopped him in his tracks.

As soon as the studio came into view from the window, you stood up quickly, packing up your camera into your bag, “I’ll meet you inside. Don’t forget your outfits.”

You didn’t wait for the bus to fully stop before jumping out, bag slung over your shoulder and cap shielding your eyes. You dashed towards the studio without a backward glance, leaving the rest behind in dazed silence.

As the dust settled, Noah watched you disappear into the distance, your retreating figure growing fainter with each passing moment till all he was left with was an overwhelming emptiness and the scent of you lingering in the air.

“Gonna go after her?” Ruffilo finally broke Noah’s trance, pulling him back to reality.

Noah glanced back at him. There was a strange glint in his eyes. He shook his head, his stoic expression not revealing what he truly felt. “Not now, Nick. Just...not now.” His voice betrayed him, a single shard of vulnerability slipping through his walls of defence.

“Very well,” Ruffilo finally conceded, albeit reluctantly.

With that, Noah found himself standing alone as others headed inside. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack before he followed in, dreading your gaze.

He didn’t fear losing you anymore- he knew he was never yours to lose. But what haunted him was the constant pain in your eyes, caused by him.

The photoshoot continued swiftly as you guided the boys into various poses. Adjusting their hair and shirts, you hesitantly brushed Noah’s bangs away from his face.

He stiffened at your touch, his anxious gaze darting to meet yours. You wanted to reassure him, tell him you weren't disgusted by him, but your pride got in the way. Your hand pulled away, leaving an invisible trail of tension on his forehead.

The shoot dragged on, and despite their best efforts to act normal and keep the mood light, the crew could feel the tension between you two. Noah was quieter than he'd ever been, and his eyes followed you around the room. The glances he sent you were just a shadow of his usual provocative smirks.

The other guys in the band tried to fill the void left by Noah's silence with lame jokes and exaggerated laughter. You appreciated their efforts, but it wasn't enough to completely wash away the sour taste that Noah's confession had left.

"Time for solos," You announced tiredly, nodding at the boys to change outfits. The portraits went relatively quickly until you reached Noah.

“You guys don’t need to stay,” You nodded at Jolly, who whispered a quiet ‘thank god’ under his breath.

Once you were alone, the studio seemed much larger than it was before. The high ceiling echoed back Noah’s steps as he approached the designated section for the photoshoot.

“Stand there,” You ordered, pointing to a spot against a rustic backdrop that you had prepared earlier. You could see him swallow nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing conspicuously.

You shifted your focus back to your camera, busying yourself with the various settings. You couldn't deny, though, that your mind was filled with thoughts of him.

Just as you brought the camera up to your eye, Noah cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say..." He began awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you lowered the camera to look at him. His eyes were wary, but determined as they met yours.

“I’m sorry," he finally muttered.

You remained silent, studying him through the lens of your camera. He looked different somehow - less of the bold, arrogant frontman and more of a man carrying the weight of his actions.

"Thanks for saying that, but it's not enough," you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. The charged stillness settled over both of you again like a shroud

Noah winced at your words, regret sharpening the usually soft curves of his face. As you snapped photos of him, capturing every painful oscillation of emotion on his hardened features, the air between you two thickened further.

“Fix your tie,” You mumbled, nodding at him as his hands fumbled with the fabric.

"There's nothing I can say, is there?" Noah said, his tone jittery as his hands fell to the sides.

Your heart clenched at his question. You wanted so desperately to reassure him, to let him know that things could be fixed, but doing so felt unfair - both to you and to him.

"Right now... No," you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. You sighed annoyed at his inability to fix the fabric, and strutted towards him, pulling the tie to the side gently.

You were inches from his body as you reached up, hands around his neck to fix the tie.

His body stiffened and he barely seemed to breathe, but he didn't move away or protest. For all his bluster and bravado, there was an inexplicably endearing quality to Noah in those moments of vulnerability.

Just as you were about done, your fingers grazed against his collarbone beneath his shirt. A sudden realization hit you; despite being so close physically, and emotionally you two were miles apart.

"There." You stepped back and met his eyes again, parrying the intensity of his gaze with your own cool neutrality.

“Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Yet you couldn’t let yourself back away just yet, “If there’s nothing I can say, can I show you?”

Your breath hitched as his eyes bore into yours, hands slowly reaching up to grip either side of your hip.

“Show me what?” You breathed, staring at his fixated gaze that now danced between your eyes and lips.

“Show you how much I care for you, deep down.”

His words hung in the air like a sharp winter wind, chilling you to the bone. But before you could reply, he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss. It was filled with desperation, whispering about his buried feelings in a way words never could.

You froze but didn’t pull back, his grip on your waist tightened, holding you with intense need.

His kiss was apologetic, passionate, and a plea for another chance all wrapped up in one. You found yourself surprised by how desperately you wanted to believe him, how badly you wanted this to be the answer

Instead of pulling away, you reached up, holding the collar of his shirt with clenched fists. You kissed him back, allowing your lips to move in sync with newfound heartache as he moulded into your body.

The surge of electricity that ran through your veins was enough to make your heart race. Noah's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his firm body. He wanted to make this right, he wanted to show you that his apology was sincere.

His touch was tender but firm, filled with a longing that spoke volumes more than his heated whispers ever could. His lips on yours felt like a desperate plea for forgiveness and comprehension; it was harrowingly sweet

As the heat between both of you simmered down, your lips parted from his slowly. Your breaths mingled in the silence of the studio, his forehead gently resting against yours as neither of you made an effort to pull away.

"Noah," you murmured, hesitating before scrambling to find the words that had been replaced by a strange echo of warmth spreading through you

He only responded by taking the camera off of your neck, placing it gently on the ground as he took your hips again, pushing you backwards toward the couch.

He stopped only a few inches away from the worn leather, brown eyes meeting yours. He was searching your gaze for guidance, for a sign you had not rejected his overtures. Even in the hushed inevitability of the moment, it seemed Noah was capable of respecting your boundaries. It was a level of sensitivity you hadn't expected from him; from the man who had just recently been a source of anguish.

He must have found whatever reassurance he'd been seeking because he guided you back until the back of your knees collided with the low couch. You fell onto its cushions rather gracelessly, Noah following you closely. The firm press of his body against yours lulled the protests stirring at the back of your mind.

His lips found yours again, their warmth seeping through your defences as though they were melting snow. And, despite his desperately shaking hands, Noah somehow managed to be delicate with you – cautious even. His movements were slow and measured, as though he was etching a memory onto his mind – this moment, you, everything about this.

His hand journeyed the curve of your waist, and the small of your back, exploring your body with an intimacy that reflected his longing. It pondered hesitantly at the hem of your shirt, a silent request seeking permission. You nodded slightly against his kiss – affirmation and surrender.

Noah's fingers crept under your shirt, pressing into the small of your back with an intensity that quickened your breath. You gasped at the contact of skin on skin; it felt like fire, burning through your inhibitions and reservations.

In the wake of that touch, you found yourself reciprocating; fingers tracing his broad shoulders before venturing down to his toned arms, all the way to the base of his spine. As if driven by instinct, you pulled him closer to you.

His hand found its way to your cheek, sweeping away a loose strand of hair as he broke the kiss and looked at you with a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

"I’ll be different this time forward, I swear," he murmured, his eyes riddled with hope and fear, "I'll make it right.

His declaration sent a jolt of hope coursing through your veins, and you found yourself reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. It wasn’t often you saw him like this - so raw, so open. The sight of him, so beautifully vulnerable under your touch, stole your breath away.

"I don't just want different Noah," you replied softly, fingers brushing against his jawline, "I want better. I need better."

His eyes hardened for a moment - not in anger, but in determination. His arms pulled you closer to him as if he was afraid you'd disappear. You let out a giggle at his quaint possessiveness and pressed your forehead against his.

“Better...” he murmured, committing the word to memory. His hand slipped from your waist to capture yours, weaving his fingers through yours so naturally that it took your breath away. His grip was steady and warm, a promise of what was to come. He kissed down your jaw, to the bottom of your ear. Following down the skin of your neck he stopped, just above your collarbone with a gentle bite and kiss.

“I can do better,” he vowed, “You deserve better.”

You peered down at him beneath thick lashes, seeing a flicker of the man you once knew.

There was no guarantee that he could deliver on his promises or that you'd be strong enough to withstand the hurt if he didn't, but in this instance, under the lights of your shared studio, you didn’t care.

You needed him.

“Prove it,” you replied, causing Noah’s cheeks to burn with desire as he lifted your shirt over your head, kissing down the skin towards your jeans.

"Noah," you breathed, squirming against his touch.

His hands trembling slightly, and Noah undid the button of your jeans, drawing them down your legs.

“Look at me,” he whispered, forcing himself to still as he levelled his gaze with yours. You saw flashes of insecurity flicker in the depths of his eyes before they were smothered by resolve, "I mean it, I'll be better."

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand as if to anchor him—and yourself—in this moment.

"Show me," you dared again. Your voice sounded stronger than you felt, braver than you thought possible. And when he reverently kissed a path upward from your navel—each touch a promise and a plea—you realized that this was not just about words and apologies, this was about actions.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he peppered soft kisses along your bare skin, every brush of his lips sending sparks skittering across your body. The intimacy was powerful, overwhelming in its tenderness.

Noah stopped at your ribcage, locking eyes with you as he observed the rise and fall of your chest, his breath hitching in awe at the vulnerabilities you were sharing. In the silence of the room, his thumb drew invisible circles at the dip of your hip bone, soothing and tranquil amid burning desires.

In contrast to Noah's tenderness was the fierce desire reflected in your eyes - it mirrored his hunger, stirring a fire within him he thought had been extinguished. Swallowing down his nerves, he continued to trail kisses up your torso, each one laced with an affection that was as profound as it was raw.

A hushed "Wait," escaped your mouth, catching him off guard. Seeing uncertainty cloud his eyes, you squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"This doesn't mean everything is forgiven, Noah. It means I'm giving you a chance."

The sombre tones of your voice sparked a flicker of something in his eyes—scared but hopeful.

"I know," he whispered, brushing your hair away gently from your face. "And thank you...for giving me this chance."

You nodded and reached up to trace a finger along his jawline, pulling him back closer to you. Your lips met once again in a dance familiar yet new; a single affirmation of trust and longing that extinguished any lingering hesitation.

His breath fanned along the fabric that coated your desire, leaving you nervous as his eyes devoured you.

Yet you nodded, allowing him to pull the fabric to the side, and gently glide a finger between the folds.

Your hips withered at his touch, fighting the urge to rut upward against his fingers in desperation for more.

"Noah," you whispered again, echoing through the silent studio.

The soft plea tugged at something in his chest. He was as eager as you, but he knew something like this had to be savoured. With that in mind, he deepened his ministrations, taking slow strokes, tormenting you with an agonizingly measured pace with his fingers that left you gasping for breath.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin while his fingers continued their dance, pushing in and out of your body.

Your fingers clung onto his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as his movements drove you to the edge. Yet there was still a resistance within you, a pull back from the precipice of surrender.

Seeing your turmoil reflected in your tightly shut eyes and furrowed eyebrows, Noah paused before latching his mouth against you, flicking his tongue in long, delicate stripes.

The sudden pleasure of his mouth made you arch your back with a sharp gasp, every lingering hint of resistance crumbling under the litany of sensations flooding your body. Your fingers tangled even more desperately in his hair, encouraging him, pleading without words.

His moans vibrated against your skin, and you dared to watch as he enjoyed every taste you offered him.

The sight caused you to shudder, allowing your body to release and shake around his mouth as you held him in place with your hand, fingers gripping along his scalp.

His whispered praises and adorations mingled with your own gasping cries; an unfinished symphony of pleasure and connection. You called his name, a plea and a prayer laced with ecstasy that reverberated through the studio.

Breathing heavily, you held him still as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Noah's teasing stopped his soft touch now providing comfort as he rode out the aftershocks with you.

When your trembling subsided, you carefully released him, moving your hand away from his head. He slowly kissed up your body, each one a silent thank you left in its wake until you found yourself locking eyes with Noah again

You sensed the eagerness in him, yet also restrained. He stared at you warily as if asking for permission, and while nervous butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you nodded.

"I can show you the world if you’ll let me,” He said softly, a promise twining itself around each word. His breath was hot against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, exacerbating the butterflies in your belly into starlings.

"Show me," you whispered again, finally allowing yourself to fall, to let go of every single thread of resistance you'd clung to with desperation- ready to be pulled deeper into liminal space.

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @calleyx13 @tosoundlessdarkistare

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @xserenax-13 @fadingangelwisp

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

@fuck-me-muke @ferduttini @lacy1986

[narxcisse]

★ — As screwed as me? (HCs)

Pairing: Jimmy x Equally Screwed-Up!GN!Reader

CW: Jimmy himself is a warning, technically Reader is a CW too, toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslight, emotional blackmail, possible violence and abusive behavior, co-dependency, trauma bonding, unhealthy coping mechanisms, possessiveness, isolation, spiraling together, reckless actions, jokes about trauma and morally questionable behaviors, brief implicit mention of what happened with Anya,mutual sabotage. Don't romanticize these atrocities irl

English isn't my native language

Fights are explosive, filled with yelling, manipulation, and even physical intimidation—but you both thrive on it. You don’t break up; just let the tension simmer until find some twisted way to make up.

You both make jokes about your trauma and chaotic tendencies, laughing at things that would horrify most people. It’s your way of coping, and you love how no one else “gets it.”

Both of you are hyper-critical of the world around u, often tearing apart societal norms and other people’s behavior while secretly being just as bad, if not worse.

The relationship is a constant battle for dominance. Jimmy loves feeling in control, but you knows how to flip the script and push his buttons when he gets too cocky.

Unintentionally (or intentionally) isolate each other from the outside world. Jimmy is possessive, and you're territorial, so you often justify cutting off friends or potential allies to keep the relationship intact.

While rarely admit vulnerability outright, there’s an unspoken understanding between you. You see through each other’s facades, and it’s both comforting and terrifying.

You love doing dangerous or impulsive things together, whether it’s vandalism, sneaking into restricted areas, or playing psychological games with unsuspecting people. It’s their version of “date night.”

When one of you is spiraling, the other doesn’t necessarily help— just spiral together. You feed off each other’s energy, creating a cycle of self-destruction that feels weirdly satisfying.

You don’t trust anyone but each other. Even when you hate each other, you’re both convinced no one else could possibly understand or handle you, only you can stand each other.

Despite everything, there are moments of genuine affection. Jimmy might pull you into his lap and mumble something about how you’re the only one who’s “real.” You in return might patch him up after a fight, calling him an idiot but staying close anyway.

You admire each other’s cleverness and cunning but are always trying to one-up each other. It’s like a toxic game of chess where no one ever wins.

You have dark, borderline cruel inside jokes about people you’ve manipulated or situations you’ve sabotaged. It’s your way of feeling superior and bonded.

(You probably have one about Anya and what Jimmy did to her.)

Neither of you could imagine life without the other, even though you know the relationship is unhealthy. You’re too far gone to let go.

Jimmy will gaslight you into thinking the fights are your fault, but he’ll also kiss your forehead afterward and promise you’re the only one who matters. You play the same game, leaving Jimmy guessing whether you love or loathe him.

If one of you tries to improve, the other will feel threatened and subconsciously (or deliberately) drags them back down.

No matter how much you hurt each other, you always come back. You’re addicted to the chaos, the drama, and the feeling of being seen—even if it’s through a cracked mirror.

You don’t need to say much to communicate. A raised eyebrow, a smirk, or a slight tilt of the head is enough to get your point across, especially when you’re plotting something together.

You tease each other mercilessly about your weaknesses or past mistakes, but if anyone else dares to do the same, you become a united front of pure wrath.

You’re the most “at home” when things are chaotic. Quiet, stable moments make you both uneasy, and one of you usually stirs up trouble to restore the normalcy of your dysfunction.

You’re not above using each other’s vulnerabilities to get what you want, but it’s almost like a game—you both know what’s happening and let it slide because you’d do the same thing in reverse.

Instead of normal couple activities, your “dates” involve things like watching the world burn (metaphorically or literally), staking out a place for a potential con, or picking apart other people’s relationships while drinking cheap whiskey or red bull.

You both laugh the hardest when things are falling apart. Whether it’s your lives or someone else’s, the absurdity of it all fuels your bond.

Jimmy gets irrationally jealous if you shows interest in someone else, even in passing. But instead of addressing it maturely, he’ll find subtle ways to remind you who you belong to. What do you do? Flirt back just to see how far you can push him.

Both of you have physical or emotional scars that sometimes compare, almost competitively. You act like they’re bragging, but deep down, it’s a weirdly vulnerable bonding moment.

Instead of saying “I love you,” you’ll say things like, “Don’t screw this up,” or “You’re lucky I tolerate you.” Yet, there’s a warmth in your tone that says everything.

You both live for the adrenaline rush—whether it’s Jimmy pulling off a risky scheme or you egging him on. When things calm down, you get restless and look for the next thrill.

You’re honest to the point of cruelty, especially when calling out each other’s flaws. Yet, secretly value that honesty because it’s proof you’re not being lied to (at least not about that).

Despite the toxic tendencies, you're fiercely protective of each other. Jimmy might be a manipulative mess, but if someone even looks at you the wrong way, he’ll make sure they regret it. And you’d burn the world for him, even if you’re the one who started the fire in the first place.

When one of you is down, the other doesn’t offer soft encouragement. Instead, it’s more like, “Get up. We’re not done yet,” or “Don’t let them win. That’s our job.”

You validate each other’s worst traits. Jimmy praises your ruthlessness, and you admire his cunning, even when it’s clearly harmful. It’s a vicious cycle that neither of u wants to break.

You know things about each other that no one else does—things so dark or personal that would horrify others. Instead of using it as leverage, you let it fester as a reminder of your unspoken loyalty.

The fights escalate quickly, with both of u knowing exactly where to hit to hurt the most. But after the dust settles, you act like nothing happened, as if the screaming matches are just part of the routine.

After a bad day, Jimmy might rest his head on your lap or chest while you absentmindedly play with his hair. Or just sit in silence together, sharing a cigarette, no words needed.

No matter how much you mess with each other, you’re in it for the long haul. If Jimmy is going down, you're going with him—and vice versa.

It’s not healthy, and you both know it. But in your twisted, screwed-up way, you "genuinely" care for each other. Your love might be sharp-edged and destructive, but it’s still love, at least from your point of view.

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 11

Hi! Here's part 11 to my Dracula x Reader series! I apologize for the huge delay, I've had a lot going on IRL, so I haven't has as much time/energy to write as I would have liked. Still, I hope you enjoy! I hope to have more happen in the next chapter as well, hopefully some action! Summary: Dracula finally manages to get things running somewhat smoothly, only to run into a snag when it comes to the potions he's had made for you. Thankfully, it isn't as big of a setback as it could be, so long as he can see you beginning to heal. During all of it, he begins to recognize some old feelings...

CW: Injury mention, death mention, brief description of injury, thoughts of murder,

Word Count: 6244 Words!

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Tag List: @pumpkinvampie, @bethleeham, @mshope16, @sixsixtwenty, @haleypearce, @rvautomatic, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @marshmelloe, @maorizon, @ursamajor17, @sapphicsfordracula, @dame-sunflowers, @sleepyendymion, @starrlo0ver, @onewiththebeanbag First: Here! Last: Here! Next: Here! - - -

Dracula was beginning to wonder just how you had managed to survive so long on your own.

He wasn’t doubting your skills. In fact, Dracula could tell from a glance you were a powerful fighter, much like your ancestors had been. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the strongest Belmonts yet.

No, he was concerned over how you seemed lacking when it came to taking care of yourself.

Sure, you had bandaged yourself on the way to his castle, and he was thankful you seemed to have some sort of survival instinct.

But he noticed you didn’t put in too much effort though in your own health overall.

It wasn’t just from how you came to his castle recently, but something he had noticed long before he had been freed.

After the first few times he saw you, it was clear to him. You would briefly mention your headaches, and your homelife, how you just ‘dealt’ with it.

You had mentioned to him in a joke how even though you had been sick at one point, you just pushed through it while sleeping in your car for a week.

He couldn’t ask you at the time why you did such things, being trapped in stone. Now, he felt it would be counterproductive to ask you. Not until you were comfortable around him.

But it was a horrifying thing you mentioned offhandedly while eating a sandwich, and you refused to elaborate. Why would you put yourself through that?

Add that to his mental list of reasons why he had to investigate your home life. If anything, that was blatantly unhealthy. How the hell was your immune system putting up such a fight on its own if that was how you handled being sick at your home?

How did you handle most injuries before you met him? A part of him really did not wish to find out, but he couldn’t help but feel the desire to know.

Dracula was at least thankful you mentioned a small cabin once. After you had mentioned it while he was stone, you realized what you had said, and were quick to try and change the subject. You had not meant to tell him about it, it seemed.

But he was thankful at least that you had a small place nearby to rest.

At one point throughout the day as he checked in on you, he briefly considered going to see this cabin, or sending a scout to see where it was. However, he dismissed this idea almost as soon as he had thought it.

You’d no doubt be upset if you found out he had done so, and he would be willing to bet you had traps all over the land leading up to your small sanctuary away from your home.

It was only logical to assume so. You had found his castle nearby your own property.

Something he didn’t fail to see irony in. Of course his castle would choose a place nearby a Belmont’s property.

Still, if it had been him in your situation, he would have placed traps on top of traps once finding out such a thing. Sending an underling was just asking for it to either be captured, destroyed, or injured. Or for such information to spread to less enthusiastic minions who were disgruntled about your stay here.

No doubt when you inevitably left, you would check the traps, or at least notice one out of place, if not finding a dead monster's remains on your land. Dracula couldn’t afford to have you lose trust in him just because he was curious.

Yes… Dracula would wait, and put his patience to the test. He’d try to get you to open up to him, and show him yourself.

You already were showing you didn’t detest him, something that was bringing an old warmth to his cold heart.

He’d even wager you opened up to him just a little earlier, when you had mentioned your injuries had been from something personal.

Sure, it wasn’t a large amount of information, but it was progress.

Now, he just had to keep this progress going forward, something Dracula knew was not going to be smooth sailing as he had hoped. There was already unrest in the castle, he could just feel it.

No one had said anything to him, but Dracula was more in tune with his castle and its magic than people gave him credit for. Every being here had energy that was woven with the castle’s in some way shape or form.

And people were anxious.

Some were restless, some were afraid. Many were irritated.

A Belmont being treated as a guest? He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone or something acted out.

Dracula just hoped it wouldn’t be at your expense. He could clean any other mess as need be, but he wouldn’t stand you being injured further.

Alas, he couldn’t act unless someone else acted out first, or he could see they were planning something that involved you. Dracula, loathe as he may to admit it, would only cause more unrest by acting too hastily.

That was fine though, he could bide his time.

The only thing that had him on edge was your current injuries. Or rather, he didn’t want you fighting with your injuries and making them worse, especially after your healing has been progressing nicely.

Speaking of which, You were healing incredibly quickly. If it wasn’t for your lineage, he would have guessed you had some sort of distant supernatural blood in your veins, such as vampirism.

Still, even though you were healing at an impressive rate, it still wasn’t enough. Your injuries by all means could have killed you, and they were still deep and fresh.

His fingers tapped on the wood of his desk in his study, concern no doubt etched clear on his features.

Those potions should be finished today, or at least the first batch of them. The stronger type usually required a longer amount of time to simmer for better healing effects. Time though, was not something he could afford, so a batch of the regular sort would have to do.

Of course, he’d have to thoroughly check them himself after his alchemists were finished. He had not explained who the potions were for when he had ordered it to be done, but now, there was no doubt in his mind the ones creating the potions knew it was for a hunter.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t even trust most of his underlings with this. Even his more trusted ones, he was going to be forced to keep an eye on.

The chances of his alchemists messing with your potions were low, but not impossible. Thankfully, he knew potions very well after studying them centuries ago. Dracula was confident he could catch any ‘unneeded’ ingredients that might slip in the finished batch.

However, he hated that he would have to check.

“How bothersome…” he mumbled as he pressed his face into the palm of one of his hands.

Looking for poison itself wasn’t the issue, it’s something he’ll gladly do. It was the fact this would mean it would take longer to get the potions to you that irritated him.

If the potions were tampered with, like he worried they might be, he’d probably have to make them himself. Something he would also do without pause, but again, he didn’t wish for you to stay injured any longer than necessary.

Dracula rubbed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he had grown so protective of you like a mother hen.

The last time he could remember fretting over someone, was whenever his late wife had gotten sick, or when his son fell ill once or twice.

Back before everything fell apart.

He sighed, feeling another migraine coming on. It wouldn’t do well to think of that now. The less distractions, the better.

At least one good thing came from this. You were receptive to him checking in on you. Dracula doubted you would trust any of his underlings to do it, or at least any of them bringing you meals.

Not without him there to supervise, it seemed.

It was small, but that amount of trust you had in him was a lot for the circumstances.

Dracula felt another sigh escape his lips, and he ignored the temptation to lay his head on his desk like a daydreaming school boy.

What were you doing to him? Had the Great Dracula really fallen for a Belmont?

His eyes widened slightly at his own thoughts.

Fallen? No. Though he detested the idea of admitting he had a schoolboy crush.

He could at least admit he felt fonder for you than some human teenager just figuring themselves out, thank you very much.

Deep down however, thinking about this unsettled him.

Dracula cared for you. He could admit that in his head whole heartedly. Somehow, the Little Belmont had wormed their way into his cold, dead heart without even trying.

But he feared to think about what that meant for him. His life. His future. Your future.

The trust between you two was rocky, but it was there. Could he really push to have you trust him more? Was that really a future he could hope for? Try for? To even care about?

Was it even worth it?

Dracula ran a hand through his hair, and debated summoning another glass of blood to sooth the migraine he could already feel forming in his temples.

Himself and your family had been doomed to fight for centuries. Would even trying to open up the possibilities of at least a friendship be very wise?

Looking from the outside, it seemed like something doomed to fail.

So why did he want to try?

His fingers began to thrum idly on the desk again.

The answer was still the same as before. It was you.

You were different. Different from most Belmonts.

Was wanting to bet on that difference really worth the possible pain? Heartbreak? Potential agony?

Vlad’s eyes drifted over to a portrait that hung in his private study. One depicting his precious Lisa.

Lisa had been worth it, even if his time with her had been so cruelly cut short. He knew her time with her would have been limited, as she had wanted to stay human. It was one of the things that had made her so precious.

One of the few things he regretted was not being there for her when she needed him most. Probably one of his biggest regrets, alongside not being next to Elisabetha when she passed back when he had been human.

So perhaps… This too, would be worth it.

He could not deny that this was a golden opportunity. If, by small chance, he could change fate…

Perhaps he would not have to suffer being killed once more, and this damned cycle between him and your family could finally break.

Dracula was no fool. He was sure this cycle affected your family just as much as it did him. Ever since Leon, almost every Belmont has had to learn to fight creatures of the night. Either to be a hunter, or to avoid simply being the prey.

No doubt not every Belmont liked this, and judging from the small glimpses of your home life he has seen, the Belmont clan seems to have fallen into disrepair.

There was a darkness in your eyes when you spoke about your home, one that had him worrying all over again.

That was something else he was going to have to focus on. Your life at home.

Given that your clan was full of vampire hunters, even if he did by chance get your home’s location, he doubted himself or any of his underlings would be able to get too close. Surveillance wouldn’t be an easy option, or most likely would not be an option at all.

Unless, of course, your family’s home and protections have also deteriorated. Perhaps getting close to the home wouldn’t be as big of an issue.

But alas, he wouldn’t risk most of his underlings finding your home like that. He has a few he trusts, sure, but he couldn’t in good faith let most of them know where you lived.

All it would take is one slip up, and your home would no doubt be swarmed. Even if it wasn’t monsters from his circles, it wouldn’t take much from other groups to learn and decide to exterminate you en masse.

Even if no one could penetrate your home’s defenses, it wouldn’t be hard to stage an ambush to have you assassinated the moment you left your property. Or anyone else that lived with you.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed at that thought. Oh, how that was tempting, just to see those who may have hurt you torn to shreds.

But he had to wait. He’d have vengeance for you one way or another.

Before he could contemplate who he had to murder, he heard a brisk knock at his door. Crimson eyes narrowed, and with his mask slipping back into place, he sat back in his chair.

“Enter.”

Large doors to his study creaked open, and one of the alchemists he had working on your potions stepped into the room. A young man who had answered the Castle’s magical call for power and safety.

The young man before him tried not to tremble under his gaze, barely making eye contact before looking at a different part of the room. Dracula had to hold back an annoyed sigh.

A shame those who could create potions were few and far between, leaving him with such a sniveling fool. At least he could get the job done, along with the few others he had working under him.

“Is the task I set for you and the others finished?” he asked, thrumming his fingers against the desk once again, a bored look on his face.

Swallowing nervously, the alchemist nodded, before remembering he needed to speak.

“Y-Yes, milord. The first batch of potions has finished, but…”

Dracula raised an eyebrow. He was already nearing the end of his patience.

“But?”

The young man flinched, and the vampire tried not to roll his eyes.

“I’m afraid, ah… this batch won’t be that potent, due t-to us having to rush…”

As if Dracula didn’t already anticipate that.

No matter though. What was important was getting you something to fend back the majority of your injuries. Even if it is just enough to help you fight infection and mend a few patches of skin, it was better than nothing.

“I’m aware of the effect of making potions on such short notice. Is that everything?”

For a split second, the alchemist’s heartbeat spiked, and he avoided looking at the Vampire Lord. Dracula forced his face to remain neutral.

How curious.

“That’s everything, sir.”

Almost immediately, the shadows in the room crawled forward, and the temperature dropped a noticeable amount.

Dracula stood up from his chair to his full height, and leaned over his desk. His claws dug into the wood, and his eyes grew black and red.

“Tell me, Alchemist, why are you lying to me?”

A squeak left the young man’s lips, and he physically shrunk in on himself. No one wanted to be on Dracula’s bad side.

“I don’t tolerate liars in my court.”

The Alchemist fell backwards onto the floor in a scramble, and shuffled backwards a few feet. The door magically shut behind him, and he looked as if he were to faint.

Dracula felt the air grow heavy around him, and the pathetic man in front of him began to pant and shake.

“Now, what is it you are hiding from me?”

The threat was clear as day. Should the young man in front of him lie, or do something foolish, he would not live to see tomorrow.

Swallowing thickly, the Alchemist shakily stood to his feet.

“I… As I was finishing up my batch of potions, I overheard a few of the witches talking.”

Dracula had the tension in the air lesson to a degree. The boy in front of him was willing to speak, so he may as well not make it too difficult, lest the coward faint.

Though he made sure his displeasure was apparent.

“Go on.” Eyes darted between him and other parts of the room, the Alchemist shrunk in on himself further before speaking.

“I… I overheard them talking about how they think the hunter has bewitched you. That the hunter is going to kill you, and everyone involved.”

Dracula wanted to scoff. Just mild gossip. He wasn’t surprised it was already making the rounds, though he’d have to keep an eye on it lest it fester into something unmanageable without conflict.

Rumors and resentment building would only cause unrest, and the less he had to deal with, the better.

“And just who were the witches who were discussing this?” The man swallowed. “I don’t know.” “So you didn’t think to get a look on who it might be?” He shook his head, fingers twitching idly.

“No sir. But…”

Dracula could feel the throbbing in his temples. Perhaps he should summon some wine…

“...The witches talked about wanting to do something before it was too late.”

Now that caught Dracula’s attention.

“They what?!”

The Alchemist winced, though straightened up a little now that Dracula’s ire wasn’t entirely directed at him.

“I-I have no evidence, nor was I able to follow them, but- I think some of them might be planning something, sir.”

The room’s temperature dropped further, and at the moment, the Alchemist felt like his soul left his body.

Dracula was well known for his fury.

How his anger was icy, yet his fury ran hot.

“Planning something?”

His voice was low, in a way that was like a growl. Like a predator readying to bite down on the neck of its prey. It was inviting, yet it had the survival instincts of anything around him screaming to run.

The wind picked up around the castle, and lightning began to strike across the clouded sky. The flashes of light only seemed to emphasize the anger on his face.

Briefly, The King of the Night hoped you weren’t bothered by the pick up of the storm. Surely you’d notice the change in atmosphere…

But that was something he could check in with you later.

“And do you happen to know just what they might be planning? Or which ones it even was?”

Dracula’s mind was beginning to work overtime. Which witches lingered near the Alchemy lab? He's going to have to do a sweep it seemed, and soon. At least Castlevania would give him some insight should he ask for it.

If some of his underlings were already conspiring against him…

The boy in front of him was eerily silent, and Dracula held back from snapping. Killing the fool wouldn’t solve any of his issues, especially as he needed him for now.

Then, a thought suddenly hit Dracula, and he sat back into his seat, his claws growing sharper.

“Boy, where is the finished batch of potions?”

The Alchemist froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden question.

“Um… In the labs?”

Dracula’s eyes sharpened, almost glowing red.

“And is there anyone or anything protecting the finished batch of potions in the labs?”

“Ah…”

Running a hand across his face, Dracula fought the urge to kill something.

He was going to need that drink before visiting you.

—

Much to Dracula’s disappointment (and hidden fury), it was just as he had expected.

He had decided to check on the batch of the potion himself after that conversation, just to be sure it hadn’t been tampered with.

It was something he was already going to do, but now it was incredibly important to do so after hearing what the Alchemist had to say.

Just as he had feared, the main batch that had been left out had indeed been soiled.

The potion itself was a darker blue than it should have been, a first tell that something wasn’t quite right. Then there was the smell.

Potions already smelled a bit bland, with a hint of bitterness to them. However, he was able to catch the scent of something almost sour.

The texture itself was also a bit… thick. Closer to a cream rather than the liquid form it was supposed to have.

Dracula felt his brow twitch with thinly veiled disdain.

With a sigh, and barely hidden rage, he ended up banishing the whole batch. No point in taste testing when he could already smell the signs of tampering. The only thing he would be able to get out of a test would be what ingredients specifically had been added, but there was no point. Not when he already knew the results.

It seems he would have to keep a closer eye on things than he thought.

Even if the alchemists and potioneers he had working on this were as trustworthy as they could get, it seemed that there was only so much he could do before the rats began to poke their noses where they didn't belong.

As much as he hated to section off parts of the lab, it seems he would have to until you were healed, or he found all the idiots involved who dared try and pull a fast one on him.

Thankfully however, not everything was lost.

Dracula was thankful that moment for employing several alchemists to the lab for different batches of potions. He could just take from those, since they would have a similar effect.

The other alchemists were to keep working on different batches of potions, so he could have stronger ones brewing while the first batch was finished. This meant there would be less powerful ones, sure, but he would simply have more made.

What mattered was getting this first batch to you.

You may be healing relatively quickly and well, but he was quickly growing to dislike seeing you injured.

The shadows under your eyes, and how sunken in your face looked, added to your winces of pain… He hoped that he could help with that by taking care of your wounds.

It would be a long journey, he was sure. No doubt it would take more than just healing your injuries to actually have you looked… alive.

That was what had his cold, undead heart beating worriedly in his chest.

You didn’t look like you were living.

Sure, your blood pumped, your heart still beats, but you didn’t have a happy light in your eyes. Dracula could mistake you for one of his minions with how those eyes alone looked.

He was thankful though, seeing a spark in them. It was subtle, and only showed up on occasion.

However, he found himself yearning to protect it.

Ha. Him. Lord of the Night. King of all Vampires, wanting to protect his own supposed enemy. Even more so, with such… feelings developing.

Dracula still wasn’t sure whether to find it amusing, or pitiful.

The beast in his mind that he had embraced so long ago surprisingly didn’t fight him on it. At first, it had called him pathetic the first time he found himself wanting to help you.

But that same beast had quickly done a 180, quickly growing to respect you much like his logical side had.

And oh, how it had quickly grown protective.

Dracula felt his lips almost twitch upward at the thought, feeling the very same protectiveness stir in his soul as he approached your door.

He gave a brisk knock at the door, casting a brief glance to the living armors he had stationed near your room. Stone still as always.

After a brief moment, he heard your voice, telling him to come in.

Carefully he opened the door, and it was as if a weight was lifted off his chest just seeing you. The way you subtly perked up when seeing him, sitting up in your bed…

He tried not to let his pride get to him, how it was him that you were sitting up for.

‘One step at a time, Vlad.’

The scent of your blood though soon quickly caught his nose, and he felt himself stand straighter as he walked quickly to your side.

“Your injuries… did one re-open?” He was quick to ask, internally scolding himself when he felt the urge to have a taste.

For a Belmont, your blood was still such an intoxicating scent…

Sheepishly, you looked away from him after he arrived at your side.

“Ah… I fell on the way to the restroom. I accidentally pulled some stitches open, but I got the wound under control.”

If he had been a human, he would have sworn you were trying to give him a heart attack at this rate. How was it you were such a trouble magnet?

Gently, he leaned over you, his hands hovering over where your shirt was. Underneath, he could already smell the irritated wound and fresh blood.

His eyes met your own.

“May I?” He asked, desiring to see how bad it had gotten. His voice was soft and tender, not wishing to push you or make you uncomfortable.

You froze for a moment, and a glimmer of emotion passed in your eyes. However, it left as quick as it came, and you carefully pulled your arms up to give him access.

Even now, Dracula was still incredibly impressed with the trust you were giving him. If this had been any of your ancestors, or any hunter, really, he would no doubt be in a fight.

Gently, his cool hands brushed against your warm skin as he lifted your shirt upwards to see the bandaged wound. He pointedly ignored the shiver you have, no doubt his cold hands most likely the cause.

At least, that’s what he told himself, also ignoring how you tensed slightly. Or how he heard your pulse pick up as he got closer.

It was not the time to let his mind wander and theorize.

Dracula would give you credit, though. Your pain tolerance wasn’t anything to scoff at, and you were taking everything in stride, even now.

He removed the bandages with a gentle ease, and immediately internally stomped down the sudden hunger he felt.

The fresh scent of your blood still somehow managed to drive him crazy, even when he wasn’t starving.

To think he’d find a Belmont’s blood so appealing?

It took a bit of his will power to calm himself, before continuing to look at the wound. Pursing his lips, he let out a hum.

His hands held your midsection still as he observed the new damage, ignoring your sharp intake of air.

“Apologies…” He mumbled, knowing full and well his hands were most likely even colder the closer they were to your feverish flesh.

“No worries…” You breathed, your voice small. His eyes flickered up to your face, and your own were wide as you watched him. Still vigilant, even now. Cute.

Eyes back on your wound, he felt a bit of relief. Thankfully you hadn’t torn open as many stitches as he had feared, and you had cleaned the wound up well.

It seems getting rest and meals was helping you both physically, and mentally. You weren’t hanging on a thread, wrapping wounds with little regard to your life now.

Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Even if he was worried about how you thought of yourself and your health in general, you of all people would know how to properly wrap a wound when in good conditions to do so.

After a moment, he pressed the bandages back onto your injury, and stepped back.

“Despite several stitches being pulled, it could have been worse.”

You pull your shirt down, and smile sheepishly.

“That’s good. It didn’t look too bad, but I’m glad you agree.” You spoke, rubbing the back of your neck a bit nervously.

It seemed you were still on edge, though he didn’t mind too much.

He looked you over for a moment as you fixed your shirt. You really were looking better than when you first arrived. Even from when he saw you this morning, you seemed to be improving.

At least, he was definitely thankful you no longer looked like you were dead on your feet.

Clearing his throat for a moment, he nearly smirked at how you almost jumped. Most would have missed how your muscles tensed, though he decided to count the fact he wasn’t outright scaring you a plus.

“I have something for you.”

Immediately your interest was piqued.

How you subtly leaned towards him and tilted your head, you were curious.

“You do?”

He stepped back for a moment, before holding out his hand. In a flash of smoke and light, a bottle appeared in his hand.

As he held it out to you, your eyes widened as you gently took it from his grip.

“A potion? You really made some?”

Dracula crossed his arms a bit in pride as you looked over the bottle.

“Of course. You’ll find I am not fond of breaking promises, or going back on my word.”

You took a moment to look over the bottle you now held in your hands, almost disbelieving. Dracula felt a pang of something in his heart. Pity? Worry? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like how astounded you looked over the fact he would get you some basic potions.

“I do apologize in advance. Due to the fact your injuries were severe, I had this made as fast as possible. It won’t heal you completely, but it should heal the worst of your wounds.”

For a moment, you were silent, clearly thinking.

“If you are worried about it being poisoned-” he began, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“No! No, it’s fine. Sorry. I trust it isn’t poisoned.” You spoke. After another moment, you pulled the cork off the bottle, and debated if you should take a sip.

“However, I do wish to warn you about something.” Dracula said, speaking before you could drink it. He may as well tell you now, before you take a drink. No doubt you’d be upset if he told you after.

You froze, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes…?”

Dracula let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming up to his forehead just thinking about it.

“Someone has tried to tamper with one of the batches of potions I have commissioned to be made.”

Your eyes widened, flickering to the potion, but he held up a hand to try and calm you before you could panic.

“I tossed that batch out after testing it myself. I can assure you the potion you hold in your hand has been deemed clean by myself personally. That one you hold in your hand was not supposed to go to you today. It was a batch that was supposed to simmer for a few more days.”

“To become a stronger batch…” You murmured, and Dracula felt a small twinge of pride. He supposes it shouldn’t be a surprise you would know such things, given how often you probably used potions in general.

“So… Someone wanted me dead…?” You asked, still eyeing the bottle critically. Dracula’s face turned a bit more sour.

“Unfortunately so. I will not lie to you, having you as my guest has… ruffled some feathers. I’m currently investigating those I believe tried to lace the potion with poison.”

Bright eyes flickered to him, and he caught that look, one of near disbelief.

“Why? I don’t particularly blame them, I’m a hunter, after all…” You murmured once again, eyes glancing back to the bottle.

“Because you are my guest. I will not tolerate those who wish to go against my orders, and attempt to kill the company I deemed worthy to keep.”

Dracula wondered if you weren’t used to such thoughts, with the way he saw emotions flicker across your face, gone as quick as they came.

Summoning a chair from the side of the room, he sat down, placing his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin over his clasped hands.

“If you don’t wish to drink that potion, I will not force you. It will just take a longer period for you to fully recover. I will not blame you for doing so.”

After all, he just admitted someone tried to use a different batch to kill you. He wouldn’t blame you for being careful.

You seemed to think for a moment, and Dracula decided to keep speaking as you thought about it.

“I also wish to officially inform you that unrest is beginning to stir in the castle. However,” Dracula began, taking in your expression of slight alarm, “I once again wish to reiterate something. You are allowed to protect yourself. I will not vilify you if you defend yourself from an attack.”

It was the truth. He had means to see if it was self defense, or a planned attack. He doubted you would attack unprompted.

You look at him a bit confused.

“But… How would you know it was self defense? The monsters who want me dead could just lie as a group, right?”

Dracula felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards. You had clearly been thinking about this, though he could tell it was something that must have weighed on your mind.

Not so much you thinking you could get away with attacking his subordinate, rather, you were worried about being attacked and thinking ahead.

He felt his lips curl into a small, amused smirk.

“I have my ways of figuring out what happens throughout my castle without being present.”

It was through his close connection with Castlevania, really.

Thanks to his connection, he was able to loosely figure out just who had tampered with your potions. Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to get the two witches to admit it, with how weak willed they were.

His castle was now a few witches less. Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t all of them, he was sure. Dracula still had a bit of investigating to do. The two he disposed of were just the ones who admitted to it, and Dracula could tell more were involved. No doubt he would be busy later looking further into the matter.

Some certainly weren’t happy with him, but alas, that was what happened when you attempted to hurt those he was protecting.

You seemed a bit skeptical, or perhaps curious?

“Um… Is it through the power of Chaos you can?”

As soon as you asked it, a worried look appeared on your face.

“Uh, if that isn’t too personal of a question, I mean…?”

He almost wanted to laugh. You were trying to be respectful, unsure if that was too much information to ask for.

“Trying to figure out a way to one up your enemy, hm?” He asked, though his lips ticked upwards in a full grin, clearly teasing you. Dracula could tell that wasn’t what you meant.

“No! That’s not what I-! I didn’t- fuck, I mean-”

It was adorable how you sputtered, and tried to catch your words to apologize.

“Relax, I’m only teasing you. Yes, it’s partially through the power of Chaos. Though Castlevania itself is bound to my very soul. Not much gets past me, should the castle alert me about it.”

You instantly relaxed at his words, and seemed to perk up in interest.

Once again, your eyes flickered to the bottle in your hand.

“Is that how you found out the last potion was poisoned?”

Dracula hummed, leaning back in the chair.

“No. One of my Alchemists alerted me to the fact several witches were discussing how they were… unhappy about your presence. I decided to check on the potion early, even if it was finished. I simply had my castle assist me in finding out who had done it.”

Silence filled the room once more. It seemed you were unsure what you wanted to say next.

After a beat passed, you looked back at him.

“Thank you, then. For checking. And for giving this to me.”

Your voice was soft, as was your smile.

If Dracula still breathed, he just knows his breath would have caught in his throat.

That was a smile that was worth protecting.

After you thanked him, you brought the bottle to your lips, and began to drink down the potion.

The effect was almost immediate. Even if he couldn’t see most of your wounds, he could see how you changed.

You no longer favored one side, leaning oddly to the left. Nor did you hold your arm as close as before. In fact, your body seemed to relax even further, now that the worst of the injuries were finally repairing from the magic treatment.

When you finished the drink, you pulled the bottle away from your lips, a disgusted look on your face presumably due to the taste. You coughed for a moment, and shook your head a bit.

After gathering your bearings, you then looked back up to Dracula, and truly smiled.

For once, you looked happy. You looked alive.

Yes, Dracula thought. Pursuing a future where you two don’t have to fight, would be one worth aiming for, just to see you smile once more.

[nico-esoterica]

More about celeb sps!

"But what about the millions of other people manifesting them?" 🤔⭐

There's the perspective that they've successfully manifested them in their personal realities, but I'm an elitist. In every other reality, I believe I am the only person my man would ever want to be with, consider, or fathom as a partner. I am the best of the best. I am the only person to ever exist in his world he'd want to be with intimately. I don't care who he's been with. I'm the best lover, best romantic partner, most attractive person to exist in their world. I am always infinitely better. I am what dreams are made of. Billions of the most attractive and good men in the world would kill irl to be with me or even be in the same room with me. Women and other identities too!~

This is how you need to think. If you think anyone's manifesting them? No, they're not lol. Because they'd never do it successfully or have the confidence and conviction to maintain it. They're also not you. And they're weak bitches! I said what I said. I've never thought small in my entire life and I have unwavering confidence, self discipline, and belief in myself. I am self-obsessed and radiate power, magnetism, and sex appeal. I'm also the most beautiful person I've ever personally come across, alive or dead. In a room full of the most conventionally beautiful people, my sp would only have eyes for me. Even in an industry full of surgical beauties! Idgaf! Even if I wasn't gorgeous, my sp would still think I was! Now, let's discuss stalkers and other criminals and what makes you different:

You're always winning in your reality, even if that winning is you losing, lol. You're winning in the assumption that you can't have what you want or who you want. That's winning but just not in your favor.

Even if millions of people are casting love spells or manifesting your person, they will always fail because you've rendered them ineffective in your reality. Also, AGAIN, you are YOU! Someone can only 'take' your sp if you THINK it's possible that they can be taken! That's why you need to STAND THE FUCK UP! Would you wanna be with you? I would wanna be with me! My sp is LUCKY that I even give a fuck the way I do lmao! I also personally believe whoever you're manifesting is manifesting YOU back! That's how manifesting people works objectively if you look at stories of couples who've described how it feels on both ends.

I don't consider stalking to be something celebs want but may be what they expect due to their job and not thinking they're in control of their realities, etc. I also put obsessive fans in that category because their emotional investment makes them money lol. But as a celeb who wants to be genuinely loved as a human being, I do believe they're manifesting the right person for them and that spectrum of possibility will involve someone that's potentially a fan or was one due to the magnitude of their fame. But this person would truly love and appreciate them. That's the difference. When Hailey Bieber and Victoria Beckham were manifesting their men as fans, they wound up in healthy and happy relationships with them. Thriving, tbh.

But the typical 'fan' is usually someone with piss poor self esteem, puts their fave on a pedestal, and may think they have to force themselves on their fave to 'get them to like them' when that's just abuse and assault. That's due to poor self concept and probably due to having an unhealthy relationship with them bc of social alienation from Capitalism, untreated/misdiagnosed neurodivergence because of lack of money and access to quality healthcare, and a combination of factors where their fave is the only 'good' experience in their lives. You're always telling yourself a story. With your sp, celeb or not, it's the same thing.

These people don't believe that they can successfully 'be' with their fave without breaking the law or bypassing personal boundaries and that lack of self belief is because of bad self concept and personal self esteem. They don't think they would ever choose them without them needing to force it to happen. When you're manifesting like Hailey, Victoria, etc, you're putting yourself on the pedestal instead. You're believing that there's no way in hell that celeb sp WON'T want you for just existing. I don't know those women personally but it takes audacity and that audaciousness is a result of a strong self concept about themselves and what they're capable of. But it doesn't have to be all that.

You don't even have to like yourself to manifest a celeb sp, but most people don't tell themselves that they can just exist and the sp will find them and fall in love with them.

That's the difference between a stalker, saesang, and toxic person vs another person manifesting them. You'd think there's overlap but there's a distinct difference in mindset. You don't need to be in creepy group chats full of criminals exchanging stolen personal info or do any weird shit but people do most likely because that's the only way they think they'll get access to their sp. They're still insecure, lol.

That's why people commit crimes anyway and is the way our system is set up. They're still manifesting that fraudulent access but they rarely, if ever, land the full blown relationship where their sp wants them back. Their sp not wanting them back despite all the weird shit (bc people irl DO have relationships w/ toxic people) is proof that they DON'T think or believe this person wants them. Otherwise they'd think it was cute or something because they'd see them as the one and only exception. That rarely happens with celebs, even though I'm sure it does, but that not being the norm means those people manifesting celeb sps simply don't think they can do it deep down.

That's why you're one out of millions or a billion, honestly. Even if someone seems very confident, unless they have consistent commitment to their inner story like con artist Anna Delvey, for example, then they won't be successful.

Because that's all it takes with anything, sp or not. It's the story you're telling yourself. It doesn't have to feel real. You just need to not change it.

Like I said, the other girls are weak bitches. It just is what it is.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

i need an angst to fluff inumaki x reader fanfic based on the song 'daylight' by taylor swift ASAP (no rocky OR stayc OR newjeans).

"And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)"

LIKE ACTUALLY PLEASE 🙏

the song's basically about the struggles taylor went through in her past relationships and begins to doubt she'll ever find pure love until she finally meets the man that brightens her life and shows her what true love really is.

the reader could've went through an abusive relationship in the past and guarded herself up even after she met inumaki until she gets to know him better and opens her heart to him KFYDORNEFH. inumaki and the reader could have like sentimental moment together where the reader finally opens up about her past relationship that caused her to become the person she is now and inumaki could bring up his insecurities of his cursed speech and how it's affected his life dealing with bullying, unrequited love, etc.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏

summary: after an abusive relationship you don't believe you're ready to love again, but then Inumaki Toge entered your life like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds...

cw: abusive relationship, abusive ex, emotional abuse, mentions of verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, implied sa if you squint, self doubt, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, growing old together

word count: 1.6k

note: i'm so sorry this took so long! a lot of things happened irl, plus i really wanted to do this request justice! also a quick disclaimer: not all abusive relationships look the same! the abusive ex in this fic is basically a mix of my and my best friends exes, so it strongly reflects my, as well as her, own personal experiences! please don't read this if abusive past relationships trigger you in any way, shape or form. take care of yourselves, i love you all <3

listen to this while reading!

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You hadn’t exactly been the luckiest when it came to love. Your first relationship lasted all of a month, the two of you parting amicably after realizing you were better off as friends. Your second relationship had lasted a little longer, before fizzling out due to him moving away. 

But compared to your third and most recent relationship, all of your previous ones looked like fairy tales. At the time, you hadn’t realized how toxic he was due to his nature. There was nothing dramatic about the abuse, nothing like the obvious and exaggerated examples you saw in the media.

It had started small, but quickly escalated into manipulation and toxicity. Going into the relationship you were confident in yourself and your ability to set and maintain boundaries. But as time went by you found yourself being talked into doing things you weren’t comfortable with, or didn’t want to do. 

You tried to convince yourself that you had wanted it as much as he had at the moment, so it wasn’t his fault, and that going forwards you would be more firm. Then the emotional manipulation started.

He would treat you like you were nothing more than a shit stain on the sidewalk, call you names, accuse you of cheating and only using him for his body. But just as you hit your breaking point he would swoop in and love bomb you.

The vicious cycle continued, and when your friends told you it was unhealthy, and that you should break up with him, you told them that you couldn’t. That you loved him and he made you happy.

And it was true.

He would beat you down until you hit rock bottom, break you until you were numb, but during the moments when he doted on you and told you how much he loved you, the high his love gave you was like no other. Looking back on it you could see that it was manipulative and abusive, but at the time you lived for those moments.

Even at the end, you couldn’t help but love him as he spat names full of vitriol at you. You told him you loved him, that you would be a better partner, and were left heartbroken when he broke up with you. 

A couple of weeks passed, and after the heartbreak faded, your mind began to clear and you felt as if you were thinking rationally for the first time in years. Hindsight is always 20/20 and yours was no exception. Looking back, the red flags were clear, and you had no idea why you stayed with him for so long. 

It was probably because you refused to see him as anything other than a good person who loved you, and that scared you. Clearly you were a terrible judge of character, and if you wanted to avoid getting hurt again you couldn’t trust yourself.

If you couldn’t trust yourself, there was no way for you to trust others. So you went through life alone. At least, you went through life alone until you met him.

Inumaki came into your life like the ray of warm sunshine that caresses your face after the storm clouds dissipate. 

After struggling to find the motivation to go about your life for months, you had thrown yourself back into your schoolwork. So when Inumaki Toge was assigned to you as your partner for the paper you had to write, you pointedly ignored the fact that he was extremely attractive and got to work.

As the research paper progressed, the two of you became closer, and even started looking forwards to your meetings at your local cafe. He was struck by how kind and dedicated you were; how you didn’t look down on him for being unable to speak. It was really nice to be treated as an equal.

You were struck by how funny and caring he was, and just how much you were beginning to enjoy spending time with him. It was terrifying.

Just months ago you had promised yourself that you would never fall in love again, that you couldn’t trust yourself to not jump headfirst into another abusive relationship, but here you were, falling in love once again. And it wasn’t like a little crush or anything. You fell, and you fell hard.

He consumed your every waking thought, from his mischievous little smiles to his gorgeous purple eyes, to the kindness he showed your underclassmen. You found yourself hyper analyzing every one of your interactions with him, searching for any red flags, desperately hoping to find something that proved he wouldn’t be good for you.

Because at the end of the day, you weren’t just scared to get into a relationship for fear of another abusive partner. You also feared opening yourself up to love again and getting your heart broken again.

Every logical, rational part of you knew that it wasn’t a good idea, that you shouldn’t date again, but then again, every emotional, instinctual part of you screamed that something about Inumaki Toge was right.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

A month flew by, and the deadline for your paper came and went. Without ever speaking about it or formally agreeing to, the two of you continued to meet up, except now it was to hang out, not to work. Coffee dates, trips to the local museums and aquariums, exploring local small business restaurants, whatever you had the time and funds to do you did, enjoying the time spent savoring each other’s presence. 

It had taken time, and a lot of proof that he was nothing like your ex, but you had finally gotten to the point where you were ready to move on, to trust. To place your heart in the hands of another, even if it meant leaving you vulnerable again. And a big part of that was due to the gentle kindness and patience he showed you.

Nothing about the relationship the two of you shared was the stuff of romantic dramas, with their dramatic confessions, sweeping declarations of love, and passionate gestures. Instead your romance was quiet. It was easy. And most of all it was completely reciprocated. 

There was no defining moment where the two of you stepped across the line separating friends for lovers. It was more like the two of you were on a peaceful journey, only noticing days after that you crossed it. The line between friends and lover merely blurred, until one rainy day while the two of you were camped out in your bedroom the two of you decided you were “officially” dating.

But putting a label on it hadn’t changed anything. If anything, the label was only there so you could continue doing what you had been. And if that meant picturing a future that involved marriage and growing old with him, well that wasn’t anyone’s business, now was it?

And I can still see it all (In my mind) All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

Now, half a century later you sit on your porch, quietly rocking on a swing as you watch the sun rise, daylight slowly spilling across the sky. The glow of youth had long left your features, skin sagging under the weight of the joy in your smiles, joints and bones creaking from a lifetime of adventures. 

And sitting there on your porch, the swing creaking rhythmically as you sit beside the love of your life you think about your ex-boyfriend for the first time in decades. Looking back, you can’t even fathom how different your future was than you predicted.

Before you met Toge, you had resigned yourself to growing old alone, obviously having friends by your side, but going through life without a romantic partner. At that point in your life, you believed that love was more trouble than it was worth, that it only brought hurt and you would never find someone who would make you feel like the main character in a romance novel.

But then Toge came along, and it was nothing like the romances. It was soft, gradual; rather like the sunrise in front of you, slowly extending its syrupy warmth across the inky expanse of the morning sky. His love wasn’t dramatic or invasive, but it was comforting, warm, and all-consuming. His love filled you like the first sip of tea on a cold winter day, spreading across your chest and reaching into your limbs, chasing away the cold nip of the air.

His love was like daylight, spreading across the dawn sky, lighting up everything it touched bringing color and life to all. A gentle squeeze on your hand drew you out of your thoughts, and you turned to look at him.

His once bright silver hair had been reduced to a dull gray, and the crisp lines of his seal stretched and sagging across his cheeks. But his violet eyes were as bright as the day you met, and it seemed the love in them only grew daily. Clutching his liver spotted hand in your own, skin papery thin and liver spotted, you basked in the combined glow of your shared love and smiled.

“Hey Toge? I love you?”

He merely smiled and planted a loud kiss on your cheek, not needing to say anything in response.

After all, why would you need words when your love is as permanent and sure as the sun rising in the east each morning?

I once believed love would be (Black and white) But it's golden (Golden)

general taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon

jjk taglist: @m0k0k0 @starlightanyaaa

inumaki taglist: @stopshakingplz @hugsforjungwon

[dorkydegeneracy]

It's crazy that we were all tossing around these theories about how Eddie was going to get Chris back, and arguably one of the more obvious solutions, Eddie returning to El Paso all together to be with Chris, never crossed our minds.

Because let's be honest. IRL this isn't a terrible decision. It's actually quite a good one, considering Chris is seemingly thriving in Texas and all of his blood family is there (radio silence from Tia Pepa and Abuelita (didn't abuela move back to Texas, or is that fanon? The lines between fic and reality are Heavily blurred)). Uprooting Chris' life again would be unnecessarily cruel. Stability is of paramount importance right now after the tumultuous life Chris has had.

There are really only two things that make this idea nonsensical:

1) Eddie moving to El Paso is not going to fix his relationship with his son. He's doing it purely for himself because he is missing out on his son's most formative year. (See #2 for more insight on this.). But Chris doesn't need Eddie to move to El Paso permanently. He needs Eddie to come to terms with why he continues to make these reckless mistakes that affect Chris in a real way. Chris needs Eddie to stop trying to replace Shannon. Chris needs Eddie to move on and be happy so he can be an even better father. Which brings me to. . .

2(a)) Eddie believes that moving to El Paso is going to make him happy because Chris is there. But he is sorrily mistaken. The priest gave him the assignment to stop punishing himself and allow himself to feel joy. And he is choosing to move so that he can be happier by not missing Chris's milestone moments. He's going about the assignment the wrong way. Yes Chris should and does make him happy, but that's not the only thing that makes Eddie happy. It would be incredibly unhealthy if this was true. Eddie LOVES being a fire fighter. Eddie LOVES his fire fam* (more than he likes his parents). And. . .

2(b)) EDDIE LOVES BUCK. There are a million reasons why Eddie loves Buck. But one in particular was illuminated last episode that I don't think the show has ever teased at before.

Listen, I know we are all obsessed with Buck having his own crisis, but this was the most striking part of the entire scene for me. DO Y'ALL SEE THIS FACE? This is the face of a man who was afraid to let his "best friend" know that he was planning on moving to El Paso to be with his son because he knows that Buck is going through a tough time right now. He didn't want to add another stone to the pile. But Buck isn't a guest in Eddie's house, so he took a peak and ripped the band-aid off. And Buck had the nerve to be 1000% supportive of Eddie's decision. So Eddie makes that 👆🏾face because he CANNOT BELIEVE that Buck would be so selfless. He thinks it's crazy that somebody would unquestionably help him be happy in Buck's scenario.

Eddie, I'm just saying, what we all just saw is HUSBAND-like behavior from Buck. And I know you didn't see the whole thing, and you don't know this, but you have just flipped Buck's world upside down. Your man is dying on the inside. Because BUCK LOVES YOU. But he doesn't know that yet. And he doesn't want to pull you away from your son. Who is also his son. So yeah.

*NOTE: The fire fam is not the same as actual blood family at least not for Chris. I get it, Helena obviously does not have Eddie's interest at heart, which is why her and Ramon taking Chris for three months is cruel, but I think the show is trying to suggest that Chris is indeed thriving in El Paso where he is surrounded by his aunts, uncles, cousins and other family. Those bonds are unique and important. Even if Helena Diaz is conniving. The fire fam in my mind is more crucial for Eddie. Not that the fire fam aren't amazing and provide a comforting familial sense in LA, but. . . you get what I mean. It's just different. Especially since Eddie actually has a big family back home, not all of which he is maligned.

[scummy-writes]

Things I've learned about being in fandoms on tumblr

Sometimes when I am navigating fandom, I will have bouts of... depression? negative feelings? regarding it. I think a lot of people go through this, but in the areas of fandom I buzz around in, I don't see many people talking about ways to sort of re-center yourself and take care of yourself in an online space. I thought I would attempt to share some of my habits I try to follow when I hit one of these moods. So here are 14 of them covering various subjects I run into the most. They will not work for everyone, but I do encourage you to think a bit about each point and see if it would work for you.

Feel free to add some of your own, but I am looking for positive advice that is not meant to put down others in a harmful way. I would also like to preface that I've been in fandoms for over seven years, most of them smaller rather than huge, but a lot of this advice is centered around someone just trying to enjoy the space/enjoying it as a fan creator (writing fanfics in my case). The 'you' used in this is a general usage of the word 'you'.

-> It's good to celebrate milestones, whether its how many followers you have, works you've made in a year, or similar.

However... Don't let this become a competition or reasons to compare yourself to others. We're here to have fun and to celebrate us doing so- don't put completely unneeded and unnessacary competition on it. What's the point of that competition other than to make yourself feel bad or to belittle others? This extends further to notes - no number games. none. You can be proud of the numbers you have gotten, but curb all impulses to swing that in a negative way. The second that starts happening, talk to friends. talk to someone IRL. do something that isn't staring at your notifs, immediately. Even if its listening to silly things while washing the dishes- get out of your notifs tab!!! The numbers game isn't a game you have to be a part of, ever.

-> Don't put other bloggers on pedestals.

It's fine to be a fan of someone's work, and to be excited when they post or even talk to you and you're surprised by it. However, we're all just nerds together in a fandom- maybe don't put them up on a pedestal and hold their opinions/words as gospel rather than things you agree with. There's an unhealthy disconnect there for both parties, and can lead to unhealthy habits of a bad comparison game with one party not even knowing you're comparing yourself or others to them. And I promise that no one likes being pitted against others in those.

-> separating my main blog from my fandom blog has done wonders for me.

This one is a lot more of a 'me' thing that MIGHT be helpful towards others, but it's such a nice thing to have a 'normal' space where I don't have to worry too much about fandomisms but want to be online. I want to reblog other things that are not just fandom related and I don't want people from the fandom blog bothering me for. For the longest time I wasn't very upfront with my main blog purely because I wanted that separation, but for others to block me properly I put it up more bluntly.

I also think that this is good when you want to write about some things, but are nervous. In my example, I get nervous writing about my ocs. So what did I do? Made a sideblog for one, briefly mentioned it, and I post untagged drabbles at times when trying to explore her character. It's more practice on not caring about the note amount each post gets for me, and it makes me more at ease with things not getting any notes while exploring different subjects I don't usually write about.

-> Does everyone seem horrible, or are you just not in a good mood?

This is silly and maybe redundant for some, but it's good to keep a track of IRL verses Online. If IRL is weighing you down so much that you use online as an unhealthy habit (self destructive behaviors towards things you worked hard on, lashing out at friends for things out of their control, lashing out on other bloggers for inane things, focusing your bad mood on notes or fake popularity contests...) then try and figure out the big important things: Have you eaten, slept, drank enough water through the day, or are in pain/annoyance with something offline that you're not realizing? Is it one person online making you feel like this? Have you blocked them? Have you taken healthy breaks offline to reground yourself? When i am randomly bitter about the online world, this is typically my frustrations with smth IRL leaking out, and so I do something to help process that or to breathe through it. My personal go to is getting out of the house so I can listen to music, watch silly videos while putting together a simple craft I bought, or doing chores/playing games.

-> Is the fandom full of cliques, or are you witnessing friends just talking to each other?

I get it, it fucking sucks not being involved in a friend group. You know what makes that worse? By looking at other's friend groups bitterly and making up shit in your mind to justify it. The reality is this: people will be friends with a limited number of people, and frequently talk to them because that is who they are comfortable with.

You not being in that friend group does not mean there is anything wrong with you OR them. The honest truth is that it's hard to keep up with a ton of friends at once, and so people may not respond to your messages, or they might mean to but it gets lost in their hectic IRL, or they just don't mesh with you- and all of that is normal!

And... Really... It takes work to build up a friend group. You have to get out of your comfort zone and send the first few messages. You have to embrace the fact that it's possible a friendship won't pan out. It's natural, it's normal, and doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you or the other person. After trying and naturally just talking to people in the fandom, I promise that you will find a friend group of your own.

We are all socially awkward people trying to nervously talk to each other. Yes, even the people you follow that seem like 'everyone' likes them- they are nervous too. we're all just nerds here, remember that.

-> Understand that no one is obligated to do anything.

This ranges from so many things. Here is a list as short as I can manage it to get my point across: No one is obligated to comment, read, like, or reblog any posts. Any posts. No one is obligated to scour for new creatives in the fandom spaces and reblog their work. No one is obligated to tag their posts/creative adventures to your liking. No one is obligated to follow by your DNIs and BYFs. Obligation does not exist. Even your friends are not obligated to do any of this.

It is courtesy to do these things. Blogs will do their best to be supportive by nature, and to try and at least do some of this at any given time, but it's not a requirement. It's NICE to do so and encouraged, but the second you drill it into your head that no one, not even you, are obligated to do this, it's a bit easier to breathe and accept that no, it's a bit insane and difficult to read through 50 fanfics a week and comment a paragraph on all of them while also working on your own things and trying to manage 15 conversations while working 40 hrs a week and and and---

Instead, focus that energy on friends and yourself when you can and accept your own limitations.

-> have other fandoms you enjoy where you DON'T feel pressured to do ANYTHING.

Due to my hard fixation at usually one to two games at a time, I am usually only writing for those at a time- but I need other things to enjoy where I don't feel like I need to make something to post online. I don't feel that pressure from myself, i don't feel the need to try and engage with others. Just a quiet enjoyment for me.

-> If creating is really stressing you out and making you feel worse than better, reflect on the reasons this may be.

Are you hanging out with people who are regurgitating really bad beliefs regarding creation ("shame, you only got twenty notes, that's nothing", "wow fifty notes? that flopped.", "how did this person's shitty work get 30 more notes than me?"). Are you getting anons putting you down? Is your depression convincing you what you've made is worthless? Look at some of the points in this post regarding friends, blocking, and if you're neglecting your body's needs. If that still persists, there may be some self-reflection as to why things get to you so badly. Try to journal out the reasons why until you believe you hit one that is not your depression speaking.

An example: I would freak out about notes because I had friends that would talk around or to me in the examples listed in the previous paragraph. Cutting them off, focusing on friends who focused on the joys of creating, and focusing more on what *I* wanted to write rather than requests... I still get depressed at times but it's been so much more managable now with better support and feeling free creatively. Usually calling myself out at staring at notes helps me shake my head and move on now.

-> Blocking/Filtering is your friend, but maybe don't over do it.

Blocking seems vaguely controversial at times, but I do believe it's needed for a positive fandom experience. Outside of the obvious, the reasons I block people are typically related to how upset I am by something the person has done or said, even if it's related to fancreations. If it's something like them berating others for not believing their headcanon/fanon? Or grossly demonizing some character's mental illness? Or harassing people who dislike some characters and vice/versa? That's all a block for me.

I personally try not to overdo it and make educated decisions based on like, hey, is this just someone misunderstanding and not realizing how they're coming off? Is this someone who I am misreading their tone? Is this just a weird one-off behavior? Ok, then maybe no block button. But if seeing poor takes makes you angry for longer than, say, 20 mins? an hour? It's a week later and you're still all huffy about it and legit pissed? Maybe dig into that while also blocking the person for now.

The Filters aspect of this is similar, but it's a lighter version of blocking for me. Maybe I don't want to block this person but seeing them talk about bugs really stresses me out, so I look at how they tag those posts and filter it out for myself. Maybe I love their fandom blog but they're multi-fandom, so i will filter out a fandom I don't want to see them post about. That's it.

-> Don't be afraid to cut anon off, even if it's for a few weeks at a time.

I feel like those of us who take requests for fan creations are terrified of this a lot, but truly, taking breaks from the anon function should be encouraged. It is indeed a button for shy people, but there are assholes everywhere regardless. When they occupy your time too much or just annoy you, take away their ability to actually say anything to you.

For a creative, sometimes this can feel like the end of the world. But... you Can turn it back on later. I frequently shut it off during major life events, fanfics I am worried I might get weird anons about, when I'm in a randomly bad mood and don't think I can handle it. I Sometimes have it off for months at a time. You can cut it back on. But if anons make you anxious just imagining getting one right now? Flip that off for now. (also please utilize the block function for mean anons!!!)

-> turn those tumblr notifs OFF!!! (mobile) Additional: Turn your status OFF!!!

The only notifications I get on my phone from tumblr is when someone IM's me, and I've had it like this for years. I cannot imagine having my phone constantly going off with random tumblr notifications, I think I would have a bad spike in anxiety having that happen. It would make any negative feelings with notes/followers/number worse for me.

The online status is debatable, some people really don't have an issue with this, but I tend to feel pressured to respond to people asap if they see that my status is online and similar. Those people have not said anything to me regarding it, it's just my personal issue. So..I turn that status off. And it helps me feel better about answering in my own time.

-> Look at who you are communicating with.

Do your friends regularly dunk or mock people on the daily, over shit that is inane and petty? Are you a creative a bit nervous with your work because your friends are pretty rude with how they view other's works? Are you scared to like a character because your friend severely hates them/is attached to them to an unhealthy degree?

There are other subsets to this, but those are ones I find really troubling and try my best to avoid. I dont want to be friends with people who regularly mock others on the legit daily. I don't want to be friends with people who nitpick notes and use notes as a measure on how much worth someone has. I don't want to be friends with people who mock other's creative endeavors.

So... I don't! If I notice things are becoming a salt pit, I try to talk things out at first, but if its clear that's not gonna work, then it's outties for me. It's very true that everyone will salt over something eventually, but it's up to you to decide how severe it is with your friend circle, how it wears you down, and are they really people you want to hang around with if they just make you anxious or stressed all the time?

-> That vaguepost isn't about you.

Friend venting about someone who sounds oddly like you? Does your favorite blog mention something they dislike and you think you fit into that catagory- guess what. It's not about you!!

It's something I struggled with for a while, but eventually I came to terms with it by going "If they truly have an issue with me, they can talk to me one on one. Otherwise, i am assuming that this isn't about me" and gritting my teeth and forcing myself to repeat that until I feel at ease. Truthfully, I also just stopped hanging out with people who do this a ton in a harmful way, so my anxiety about this decreased. If it's an issue, friends should be willing to bring it up to you personally rather than make really meanspirited vagueposts.

-> A personal one I am putting at the end since I believe can easily turn bad, is... Stop looking in the fandom tags if they continiously bum you out.

I will be transparent, I've had bouts of running into a ton of 'why you should love/hate this character' posts over and over, posts that are random but use 50 different character tags, posts about how annoying my fave is, posts from/about bloggers I dislike, etc etc. After a while, I decided to just curate my feed via whoever I was following, and stop looking into tags as often. At most, I do it once every 1-3 months.

Yes, this does limit what all you can see, however... There's only so much information I can take in at once. If I follow people who reblog a ton of fandom content I love and it's different across the board, that's good enough for me and I don't feel negative looking at the tags sometimes.

[nishloves]

seventeen on your periods <3

a/n: these scenarios might or might not be inspired from my irl experiences lmfao, hope you like it as much as i liked writing it &lt;3

svt x f!reader // headcanons // fluff // m.list words: 1.3k warnings: slight cursing

choi seungcheol

did someone say that his baby was hurting???? fully prepared with blankets, hot packs and soup to help your cramps; talked you out from your unhealthy cravings (coffee and dairy presumably worsen your cramps); used to be a bit clueless in the starting but did his research so that he could help you out <3 tries to spend his days with you and regularly texts you to see if you need anything. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FEEL LIKE YOUR UTERUS IS COMING OFF?" calls 911.

yoon jeonghan

can see him teasing you for your foul mood and asking, are you on your period? on the days when you're just plainly... angry. he's eerily correct though (you usually get your periods in around 2-3 days after he quotes that hateful sentence), but is a sweet pie when you actually get them; he would take care of you, indulge in your cravings and cuddle you when you watch a series whether it be gore or the most slow burn shit you have ever seen <33

hong jisoo

he's so patient oh my god, the best one to have around to help your mood swings! he would patiently listen to your rant about how you tore the wrapper in a different way than you wanted to and then he would cheer you up??? like, oh god, marry me. he won't be clueless. at all. you're surprised that he knows so much about periods. "what do you mean coffee worsens cramps???" "yes baby, now put it down alright? I got dark chocolate for you." "you're the best<3"

wen junhui

boy makes you laugh so hard that you actually forget that you're on a period for a while lol. would cook and clean for you and gently kiss your forehead when you thank him for cooking so delicious meals; I can clearly see him calling you during shoots to ask if you need anything or if you're doing alright if he can't stay beside you (considering he travels a lot btw korea and china), would calm down your anger issues and it would almost seem like you both switched personalities. won't joke around too much because he doesn't wanna accidentally upset you, but he always and I mean always, does something so stupid that you end up cackling afterall.

kwon soonyoung

was clueless during the start despite having a sister; worked his way through research and observing you. you won't let him cook for you lmao, if you don't wanna cook you're ordering take out, but he's not cooking until he literally begs you to. but would gladly help you with other works, bringing groceries? buying sanitary pads and painkillers? stroke and play with your hair while you both cuddle together? all done. he doesn't do much but his presence calms you down, a lot. like really a lot. just him being near you is ibuprofen enough. "you sure you don't want me to do anything else?" "no... can you just hold me please?" "i will hold you for eternity <3"

jeon wonwoo

definitely tracks your periods, let's all your pre menstrual tantrums slide, will make you tea to calm down and educate you about periods, "apparently an average female spends nearly 10 years on her periods." feeds you food which helps relieve your period cramps. does every household chores if you're unable to do so, kisses your forehead amidst his work <3 oh also, would introduce you to cod/pubg where you can let go of your pent up anger (: "I WILL KILL YOU!" "you're doing great sweetheart."

lee jihoon

he's clueless, even more than hoshi. but he's smart so he caught up with it quite earlier than hoshi and you just didn't realise that he had zero and i mean ZERO idea about periods. like yeah he read about it in 8th grade but that's it, but would definitely be very attentive towards you and would spoil you with affection if that's what you desire. you just need to tell him what to do and he will do whatever you want. secretly buys your favorite food because your reactions are ten times more dramatic than normal and loves seeing you giggling because he did something nice. would get sad when you're not feeling your best though; can i do something to help uplift her mood? :(((

xu minghao

makes you green tea and asks you to meditate to calm your mood swings lmao. can see him trying his best to soothe you down by rubbing your back and playing with your hairs, gentle kisses on your cheeks as he urges you get up and take a hot shower and not act lazy. he's so prepared its almost scary than endearing. would also call you like three to five times while he's away... he would still not hesitate to calm down your delusions and force you back into reality from your sappy imagination. "i miss you :(" "i'm laying down right next to you." "i meant it figuratively!" "i miss my smart y/n too" "hey!!!!"

kim mingyu

be honest, you thought he was clueless right? he's not. not at all. he gets you hot towels to lightly soak your belly, gives you belly rubs, makes you soup, plays with your hair and massage your lower back to help your pain. you thought he was sweet? he's sweeter now! bam, you can't be mad at him anymore ahahahahaha. holds you close to him and runs his hand on your body; "I feel like shit gyu" "you're a pretty cute shit then"

lee seokmin

poor baby is clueless lmfao, you have to help him navigate through even basic stuff, definitely called you to ask your coochie's size because pads were available in different sizes. cooks you very delicious meals and fulfills all your cravings. your bad mood is not so bad anymore because he gave you his most radiant smile. his presence can heal you easily. "thought you felt sick?" "not now when you're here <3"

boo seungkwan

was sassing you out and then you started crying and then you revealed that you were on your periods and it all clicked. doesn't sass you, gossips! and gossips so much that you don't care about your cramps anymore! would sass other people to make you happy. takes care of you and regularly get you head pads for your aches, foot massages to make you happy <33 would definitely get sad when he sees you in pain tho :((

chwe hansol

man's chill as f and doesn't treat you any differently, while other members do tend to get a little cautious (more when you're bawling your eyes out after seeing a cat video), he won't treat you any different. he just kind of... adapts? you feel like shit? he does subtle things to make you feel good. you're emotional? hes there to be emotional WITH you. you want him to take care of you? no problem. he's there. always.

lee chan

please you can't not tell me that he was absolutely fucking clueless at first, was honestly scared when you lashed out on him for not picking up after himself and thought that you are always equally angry during your periods (who isn't lmao) he soon realised that you just have needs during that time and hormonal fluctuations just make you a little scary. would follow you like a puppy tho :( and carry out every single task obediently; would definitely wish to take away your pain. hes so sweet omg (would also ask your coochie's size)

[absolutehomosexuals]

Baldur's Gate 3 is known for its variety in romance options, allowing you to romance all six of your companions regardless of the player's sex/gender and including the possibility of a non-monogamous relationship with some of them.

While we do think it's an interesting idea in theory, the way bg3 implemented this feature could use some work, especially character-wise.

Something that could've been fun and unique turns, sadly, into a mildly uncomfortable experience if you stop to think about the implications.

While each of the relationships is consensual in theory, the developers chose the most ambiguous characters to develop these storylines with.

We've got Mr. "Oh, is it because we haven't had sex in a while?" former s*x sl*ve Astarion, who's known to drown his trauma in unhealthy coping mechanisms and probably feels guilty for "depriving" his partner of sex during act 2.

Former sharran Shadowheart, whose cult used to push young members to "experiment [with each other]" while ironically considering masturbation a sin.

Literally untouchable Karlach, who allows you to sleep with others for as long as her engine isn't fixed, because she "doesn't want to lose you" – which is obviously not consent and in a perfect world we wouldn't even need to explain that.

It's also worth specifying that the game never clarifies whether your arrangement is a polyamorous relationship (if you also romance Halsin) or an open relationship, but that's probably up to player discretion.

Why is it relevant, you may wonder?

We could argue the characters might be individually attracted to Halsin, which would be true in Shadowheart's case.

For an ex-sharran, an exclusive polyamorous relationship is definitely less on-the-nose than full blown relationship anarchy ; not that there's anything wrong with the latter, whether irl or in a fictional setting, but the case we're talking about is a delicate (and fictional) one.

She also doesn't bat an eye after she catches the MC with Mizora, which – regardless of whether their relationship was already open or not – is clearly disrespectful to their relationship.

Ethical non monogamy requires communication in order to be, well, ethical: sleeping with a demon (and arguably, an enemy to the party) without warning your partner would count as cheating in any universe.

She just gets mildly mad and lets it slide, which is not how you enforce boundaries in this kind of arrangement, leading us to think the cult's beliefs are unfortunately still rooted in her despite her conversion to Selûne.

And of course they would: undoing religious trauma is hard work, and bleaching your hair won't heal it overnight, regardless of what our dear Shadowheart might think.

^ Astarion has an identical reaction, if you wondering.

Many people take issue with this type of take, claming it paints Halsin as disrespectful of other people's relationships and consent.

We are absolutely not saying that: Halsin asks for explicit consent from both the MC and their partner, in order to honour their pre-existing relationship despite his own feelings, which is exactly how it should be.

People can consent to situations they're not emotionally ready to take on, whether they're not right for them in that specific moment of their life or at all.

Furthermore, we're not even necessarily talking about Halsin: the MC has other occasions to live out a non-monogamous arrangement with their partner, such as with the drow twins.

Oh and, speaking about the drow twins, we hope to god you don't think rolling a DC 25 persuasion check on Gale (who explicitly tells you he's monogamous if you try to involve Halsin in your relationship) to get him to sleep with prostitutes is okay.

I sincerely hope whoever romances Gale, perhaps interpreting his former relationship with Mystra as groom*ng (which is a whole other can of worms we're not going to dive into in this post), understands how fucked up and disgusting it is to roll that check on him.

And, funnily enough, the game doesn't even consider it r*pe by coercion! Which it clearly is, to anyone sane and allowed within three feet of schools.

In conclusion, some of the choices Larian made on the portrayal of ethical non-monogamy are questionable, and anyone who enjoys this kind of relationship irl should probably strive for better representation.

Of course we should appreciate that they tried, but the amount of brownie points they're getting isn't nearly as deserved as you might think.

[ambrosialdesire]

cacoëthes

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 reiner x fem!reader word count: 12.7k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping mention, gore/violence, minor character death mention, usage of the word "dog" in a derogatory/offensive/mocking sense, chasing (hide-and-seek kinda), misogyny, physical assault, suicidal ideations (reader talks about dying a lot), stockholm syndrome, heavy manipulation/guilt-tripping, p*rn w/ plot, noncon/dubcon, hatefucking, mean dom reiner at first, praise & degradation, hair-pulling, slapping, forced f & m oral sex, vaginal sex, sorta missionary, slight belly-bulge mention, doggy-style, breeding (mating press), choking (sexual and nonsexual), marking, virginity loss (both of you), overstimulation (both of you), edging, dacryphilia kinda, mind-break (reader is implied to kinda lose her mind), size kink, brief tit-sucking/breast play, reiner has a short refractory period bc i said so >:), kinda aot spoilers if you haven't watched it before, all characters are 18+ synopsis: everything has fallen apart by the seams even more. reiner knows everything and you have nothing else to lose. taking your chances, you escape his clutches by slipping through liberio's alleyways but there's only a handful of buildings that can hide you before he catches you. terrified isn't the only word to describe what you were feeling and you can't imagine what he'd do to you if he gets his hands on you. a/n: finally the whorish activities begin! thank you all sm for the support for this series and my other fics! i've also reached over 1k likes in this blog and wow, i literally can't believe that my writing got this much attention in roughly 6-8 months! ik i said that i would be doing a konig fic before posting this and a hell of a lot of kinktober prompts but a bunch of shit came up irl that made it nearly impossible to have time to myself and this blog. really sorry about that but life happens unfortunately. anyways, i really ended this series off with a bang (literally) and i hope the ending is somewhat good enough. i would like to thank my friend for getting me back into aot bc without them, i wouldn't have seen the final episode nor would have made this blog. i think 6th/7th grade me would've been so surprised but feel so complete knowing that aot reached its end in the anime. thank you all again for investing and reading the cacoëthes series!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

It's over.

Three years of meticulous and dedicated planning were all torn away by a single bullet. What were the chances of this happening? Why did you never consider that he would kill the old man like this? He was supposed to be completely knocked out. The dosage was supposed to be enough for you to escape.

Everything was supposed to go your way.

"H-how are you even... Wh... Why did y-you..." You gripped the jacket in the middle of your chest, the air weighing heavy with every frightened breath you took. A man was dead because of you. No... because of him.

Where did he even get a gun?!

Reiner stopped aiming the rifle towards you, standing up straight while letting the gun fall to his side. There was no hint of any exhaustion from the drugs except the fact that he was heaving slowly, most likely from running. His appearance was definitely disheveled, the rain pulling down at his clothes and short hair. In the twisted crevices in your mind, you would've found it just a tiny bit attractive.

Regardless of that, you should've never underestimated him in the first place. How could you forget that he graduated second overall in the 104th Training Corps right behind Mikasa, the most terrifyingly strongest woman that matched up right to Annie’s level. You barely even reached the top twenty when you graduated, let alone the top ten.

He said nothing but raised his hand, beckoning for you to come to him as if you were some kind of lost pet. Was he joking? You shook your head and stood your ground, strands of wet hair sticking onto your skin. There was no telling whether it was the rain that caused that or the blood. He murdered an old man — he was a Marleyan traitor sure, but he was still a human — just to keep you here.

"Y/N—"

"No!" You finally snapped, the wind carrying the words that you've held back for so long. "I'm not coming home with you! I'm never going back, I'd rather die than carrying your fucking spawn!"

"You don't mean that."

How delusional can he be? Can nothing get through that stupidly thick skull of his?

"I meant Every! Single! Word! I hate you Reiner. I've always hated you! For three years, I had to put up with all of your shit! Not because I was beginning to fall for you or that you made me realize that maybe something… something in Marley was worth staying for, but because I was trying to survive. I did everything in order to live through this torment that you forced me into. So no matter what you do, no matter what you say, no matter who you kill," Your fists were balled up so tightly, you were sure that it had cut through the skin of your palms.

"I'll never love you."

It felt like the largest weights of the world had finally lifted off your shoulders and it took all your might to finally look him in the eyes after your confession. He bore a face of devastation, his mouth parted open and eyes wide in a state of complete shock.

You grinned, partially because you were happy to finally say something that bruised his spirit. Now that he was frozen in place and his eyes were slightly glazed over, you had to hastily figure out the controls for the boat.

As you turned away to try and get into the control room, the sound of the rifle went off once more. What the hell did he shoot at? The whistle of the bullet neared and suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through your arm. You cried out in pain, almost stumbling onto the corpse below you. In an instant, you placed your hand over the fresh wound, your undivided attention now back onto him. The rifle was back up and full aimed, faint amounts of steam coming out of the end.

Reiner shot you.

Though you were quite a distance away, you could tell that something changed in him. This was not the same man that you've just screamed all the vile profanities at. You had to get away, now. There was no time to figure out the controls, not when he's now trudging towards you at an alarming rate. You got off, nearly colliding to the ground from the rock of the boat and the slickness of the rained docks.

"Y/N!" He screamed your name out and you could hear the rage laced behind it. If he caught you, you were a dead woman. You started running, as fast as your legs could carry you. In an endless blur, you went from the docks into the empty streets of Liberio.

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

You dashed left into an alleyway, almost stumbling and slipping on the smoothly cobbled streets, turning towards the farthest right that you were able to reach. Ducking down into a pile of soggy old boxes, you continue to grasp at your injured arm. You couldn't see the damage that was done but you could feel it, clenching your teeth as you ran your fingers across the wound.

You winced and cringed wordlessly as you tried to figure out how big it was and how deep the bullet went, feeling a good amount of your blood trickle down your fingers. There was no entry hole so he must've grazed you, but it was barely a miss in your opinion as it continued to gush out liquid at an alarming rate. You quickly glanced up at the storming sky, watching the lightning zip through the inky clouds before ripping a heaping chunk out of the end of your dress, timing it with the clashing clap of the thunder.

You bit down on the other part of the cloth as you tightly secured it around your wound. The effects of fatigue were finally starting to overtake you now that you had the chance to relax, the adrenaline within your veins weaning off bit by bit. With every breath you took, your lungs ached and burned unwillingly. Not to mention, your feet were definitely all cut up from scurrying around barefoot. You couldn't get tired here, not when you were running from a literal madman.

The wet stomps of boots neared and you stiffened up once more, hyper-focused on which direction it was going. It was unsettlingly still, the air suddenly feeling stuffy and murky as you held your hands against your mouth and nose. The situation felt exactly like the elevator in Trost, where groups of Titans were slowly closing in and all you could do was wait.

You tried to take in slow and steady breaths, but it was more difficult than you realized. There was a growing pressure on your chest that was making it completely strenuous in order to breathe properly, and to make matters worse, your heart was beating at an alarming rate. It had to be absurdly loud from the way you could hear it thump away at your eardrums.

"Where are you?" He trailed his voice off in a taunting manner, his breathing hard yet erratic. You could only imagine his eyes darting about in the dark, trying to pinpoint your exact location.

"I'm going to fucking find you and when I do—" The sound of a crate being kicked and smashed against the brick wall nearby made you flinch, your hands gripping onto your mouth harder as you began to shake in fear.

"Y/N, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, honest. I'm just... losing my temper. It's your fault y'know but I didn't mean to shoot you — well, I did, what else would stop you from running too far?" The more he spoke, the more nauseous you felt. Reiner really lost his goddamn mind.

The minutes felt like hours the more he stood there trying to figure out where you've wandered off to. You closed your eyes and started to pray, as if some God would be listening to someone like you. The sounds of shuffling and a frustrated growl slowly started to fade away from your proximity, and you let out a silent shaky exhale of relief.

You felt absolutely filthy. Your clothes were torn up, you were sitting in a dirty alleyway, and blood was all over you. It's a miracle that you were even still alive right now.

If you didn't move now, he'd double back to check the areas he originally skipped over. Peeking over the boxes, you slowly got up, trying to change your position along to the sound of the thunder and wind. You peered around the corners of the alleyway, not being able to see a few feet in front of you from the sudden appearance of fog. You could use it to your advantage. Reiner didn't know where you specifically were either; there was your second advantage.

In the same alleyway you were currently in, there were other various passageways. Despite being here for so long, you haven't really memorized the layout of the internment zone. Ugh, you should have done so in the first place but you didn't really create a plan B to your escape plan. It was all going swimmingly up until that moment.

Maybe there was a way that you could retrace your steps back to the boat but you ran mindlessly, just thinking about how to get as far away from him as possible. You couldn't really think, not when he had continuous months of training and you barely had any brush up of any of your skills.

You exhaled and started walking with your body snug against the wall at a brisk pace, taking a few look backs just in case. In your mind, you had to have hope. The kind of hope that you were able to get back to the fishing docks before he could find you. Liberio was a pretty large area so it could take him a while to locate you, unless he transforms and wrecks every building in sight. That was unlikely since this was his home, but him waking up from the drugs was also unlikely and yet it still happened.

Fate was against you and so was time. When morning comes, you'll have nowhere to hide and there was the possibility that Reiner would alert the militia that a threatening "rogue" Eldian was wandering the streets. All you could rely on was yourself and hopefully that could be all you needed.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Lost.

You were lost.

You thought that if you just kept wandering around, then you'd end up in a street that you'd recognize and use it to get to the docks, but there was jack shit. Everything looked the same: the windows, the walls, the streets. The fog was starting to get on your nerves as well, the rain was able to loosen up but the haze was still blocking most of your vision.

Were you stuck in hell?

The good thing was that you hadn't heard any boots anywhere nearby so you definitely had to be a safe distance away from Reiner. A warm dribble ran down your arm, causing you to halt. The laceration was still bleeding, the cloth now a darker shade of red than before. It was to the point where it was steadily dripping down your fingertips and onto the stones. If you died from blood loss before getting on the boat, it would be better than nothing.

"C'mon me. You've been through worse," You mumbled quietly to yourself as you tore another piece off from the dress, tying it over the soaked one. "You're almost there."

It had to be past midnight by now, time felt like it was working differently once you became lost. Like clockwork, you began moving once more. You had no other choice in the matter, any more hesitation and you'd get caught. Everything felt like it was at its complete limit than before but you had to push through, for your sake.

If you got out of here, you swore to be a better person. You'd be more hesitant, more calloused towards others. Back in Paradis, your kindness was the literal death of you. You held too much trust in others and look where it got you, married to an insane man who's been fucking up your life since day one when the breach occurred in Wall Maria. You were merely a puppet in the hands of Reiner and it wasn't fair.

When the Armored Titan ran through the Shiganshina District, the rubble that came from it pulverized your family. That marked the very moment where you became an orphan. A child to no one.

There were no final goodbyes, there was nothing. You didn't even get to see them brutally pass either. When you dashed home after the Colossal Titan kicked the wall in, you came upon the discovery that your house was completely crushed, fresh crimson splattered everywhere. Would that have made you feel better? Seeing them lose their lives right in front of you?

You don't even remember how you got on one of the escape boats, everything was a faded blur. As the boat sailed out of Shiganshina, you knew deep in your heart that if you had gotten home sooner from the market right before the Colossal Titan came, you would've died with them and that would be it.

You wouldn't have the unwavering decision to join the training corps the moment you became of age. You wouldn't have been matched up and sparring with Reiner for the first time just because Instructor Shadis wanted you to have a challenge. You wouldn't have been saved from him during the Trost disaster. You wouldn't have befriended both him and Bertolt afterwards, acting like the three of you were the bestest of friends. You wouldn't have been shipped off to Marley like a piece of precious stone that he had caught sight of. You wouldn't be in this complicated and hectic situation in the first place.

Placing a hand on your face, you realized that tears had started to wet your cheeks. When did you start crying? How long has it been since the last time you've cried this much? It was back when you had that fight with Porco, wasn’t it? He’d call you a crybaby if he saw you right now. Besides that, how long has it been since you've contemplated your past to the point where you started crying about it again? A soft hiccup left your lips and you sniffed, wiping the tears away with your hands.

You wondered if your parents would be proud of you for trying to escape the very person that took away their lives. Your older sister and brother could be cheering you on and that's why you're still standing despite the many things that happened to you. Afterall, they've always wanted the best for you. Your little brother would be telling you that if you gave up now, he'd take all of your favorite candies and toys and play without you. You wrapped your arms around you and sobbed, heavy tears dripping down your nose and jaw.

Reiner took all that pure love from you without even knowing and tried to replace it with a festering rot, something that he thinks is love. He betrayed you over and over again, misconstruing everything that you've done for him as the desires and pursuits of romance. Nothing in the world can redeem what he has done to you, he created too many shattered pieces.

As you finally looked up through your tear-blurred vision, the fog began to part to the point where you were able to see through it. You wiped your eyes, in disbelief in what you saw. It couldn't be, could it? Piled up boats. Ocean. The dock.

You… did it? You did it. You did it!

The soreness in your body felt suddenly a million times better as you ran forwards, the air in your lungs feeling even more fresher than before. Your eyes ran through the various ships, trying to find Mr. Kraus' as fast as you could. Adrenaline pumped through you when you spotted the lantern at the edge, almost cheering loudly in the night. You stepped slowly aboard, trying to ignore the fact that the captain was still lying dead on the deck.

Crouching down, you placed two fingers over his eyelids and shut them close. His body had long gone cold but you felt absolutely awful. At least he was with his son again.

Should you... bring him along for the ride? You'd probably dump the body once you were more at sea but it was only fair. He was able to give you this chance of escape and the most you could do for him now was to take him to a place where no one would bother him anymore.

You rummaged carefully through his pockets, finding a key located in his chest. There was a photo of his son and him connected to it, so you decided to remove it and tuck the picture back into his jacket pocket. "Thank you Mr. Kraus. For everything."

Entering the control room, you felt like a completely new woman. Under the darkness of the night, you struggled to locate where the key was supposed to be inserted. You've never operated machinery this complicated before or rather, any machinery. ODM gear and the kitchen appliances were the closest you’ve ever learned about that was a machine. Reiner never bought a car, he was probably worried that you'd use it to escape or because a woman wasn't able to drive one. They were pricey too, his warrior salary was pretty good but not good enough to buy one of them.

Fumbling around for a bit, you finally inserted it into something that felt like it was fit for a key and twisted, the instrument panel lighting up and the boat roaring to life. Letting out a light laugh of relief, your focus was now on how to make it go forwards. There were a bunch of levers and buttons, most of them not labeled or containing numbers that made your head spin. Well, there was this big red lever so it must be indicating that it was the forward—

A large arm wrapped around your throat behind you, utter horror and anguish shooting through your body as your thoughts were completely interrupted. They squeezed hard around your neck and pulled you back roughly, making you gag and involuntarily fall backwards towards the violator. You could only assume the worst on who it was.

Your nails dug deeply into his rigid muscle as you desperately tried to escape, your vision beginning to form dark spots from the lack of oxygen. No... no! This can't end here! You've gotten so fucking far, you're not about to lose now.

You reared your foot back into his knee, hearing him cry out in pain and loosen up around your neck. Dropping one arm from clawing apart the skin, you elbowed as hard as you could into his stomach. He didn't let go and you kept hitting, letting out a flurry of choked out curses at him until he finally released you. Falling to the ground, you grasped at your throat, sharply coughing up and heaving as you tried to breathe properly again.

"FUCK! You... You still got it." He coughed a few times, a grin forming on his face.

"It took me a whi... a while to find where you went, but then I saw the blood trail you left behind and saw... that you were heading back to the dock. Terrible decision to be honest." Reiner was out of breath too, probably because you beat the shit out of his stomach and chest trying to free yourself. Steam was rising off of him though so he'd be fine in a matter of minutes while you still struggled to get a good word in.

"But it's the end of the line, no more running. We're going home."

"I'm... I-I'm not going." You managed to blurt out before coughing again but you knew you couldn't move any longer, everything was starting to hurt again.

"Don't you get it? There's nothing for you in Paradis, you only have me." Reiner crouched to your level, resting his hand on your shoulder just like he did back when you were still soldiers. Why was he acting like he was still this merciful and kind knight? He was far from it.

"I'll carry you and clean you up, don't worry."

You spat on his face, watching the liquid dribble down his face as you scowled. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you fucking dog."

It was an abrupt pain.

He raised a hand and struck you, hard. Hard enough to almost make you black out from the sheer force. Hard enough to have the dark spots in your vision make its reappearance.

The side where he hit you made your ear ring and every inch of your cheek had a lingering sting. You could taste the hint of iron on your tongue as you turned your head back to look at him. He was infuriated, more so than when you tried poisoning him. Oh, so that's what pisses him off.

"Don't you fucking dare call me that."

You spat the blood out of your mouth, beginning to giggle like a fool.

"Why? Isn't that what you exactly are? Cause your dear Marleyan daddy didn't love your poor devil mommy enough to stay for either of you."

Reiner struck you again with the same amount of force and you started laughing aloud, feeling more blood trickle down and into your mouth. Maybe the blood loss was making you spiral out of control. Who cares? Everything was starting to fade and go all static-like so who cares what's coming out of your mouth right now.

You started to slump down to the ground unwillingly, the world feeling woozy and cold. Your burning limbs were on the brink of snapping off from moving too much this past evening that you could no longer support yourself. He stopped you from collapsing any further however, holding you against him as if he hadn't previously slapped the literal soul out of you.

If you died here, you'd die not being held by him. Weakly, you tried pushing yourself out of his arms but didn't budge an inch. He leaned close to your ear, bushing strands away from it. You weren't able to hear what he said, losing consciousness the minute he began to speak.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

You wished everything was still a dream. To no surprise, you awoke back at home on the bed, completely cleaned and patched up. You were no longer wearing the filthy dress and jacket, rather you were in a nightgown; not in your most provocative one luckily. It absolutely ached — even to just hardly shift around — so you didn't bother punishing yourself that much, only barely moving your head here and there.

The first thing you noticed after your eyes adjusted was the coverings of your injuries. Your arm gun wound was wrapped up in bandages and there were smaller dressings around your feet; damn, he really took care of you while you were still passed out. The next thing you noticed was how Reiner wasn't in the room, probably preoccupied with something. Right, he had to leave for another battle.... today? What time was it? What day was it?

You turned your head towards the closet, seeing that it was pried completely open, the hinges nearly torn off the wall. He probably hid the rifle in there for years and you've never noticed it, even when you were hiding something in there too. Everything was knocked over as if he was in a panic trying to find it and you weakly sat up to see the casualties of the items in there, your heart sinking down in your stomach as you saw the shoebox knocked over and the contents inside being completely empty. He knows, he had to.

At that moment, the door swung open and you winced trying to fall back down on the bed to pretend that you were still sleeping. It was pointless however, he already entered before you could close your eyes.

"You're awake. Morning— er... Good evening actually." From what you can barely see from the hallway light, Reiner had a bowl of soup in one hand and the journal — your journal — in the other. Can this get any worse?

"It's been four days—"

"Four?!" You shot up, wincing as your muscles pulled themselves taut. He settled the soup bowl down on the nightstand, turned on the lamp, and pushed you back down on the bed, hushing you like you were some kid. "Why are you still here then? Aren't you supposed to fight in another stupid self-war?"

"I told my superiors that you severely injured yourself to the point where you weren't able to move. I didn't tell them that you were trying to escape because they would've taken you away from me, luck is once again on your side." He lightly laughed as if it was some funny joke.

"Anyways, since you didn't have family here and my family refused to take care of you, I told them that I wanted to stay until you got better. After that, I'll do whatever they want me to do. You can call this an extended vacation." He explained and you wanted to throw yourself off of the building right now.

"Can't you just kill me already?" You groaned in anguish and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"No can do, I love you too much to do that."

"Well I don't love you."

"I know. I've been reading this little book of yours when I woke up from that trick of yours and stumbled across it," He shook it in his hands and opened it to a random page, your face contorting to panic. "Nearly three years of extensively written details about how much you hate me."

"Reiner—"

"Here's a passage from last year on July 5th: Reiner's downstairs right now so I'll make this quick. He asked me again about children, well not really asked, alluded to the fact that he wants them. There was some kids playing outside, kicking around a ball, and he said that he wished that we had a child to join them. I didn't say anything in reply. But I can't take it anymore, I have to get out of here. A child between us would be detrimental to my sanity, I couldn't bring myself to love it. Not when it's a part of him." His voice was cold as he read and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

He went on to read more pages, paragraphs of you talking about wanting to kill him, the failed methods you had planned, the whole plan between Mr. Kraus and you. Did you feel embarrassed that he finally found out that you were acting or humiliated that everything went wrong? You heard the noise of flipping pages and he cleared his throat.

"This was the final thing you wrote in this. I'll skip the beginning since it's not the main point I want you to hear." Your eyes widened and shot up, your hand darting painfully to grab the journal from him. He can read anything, anything but that excerpt. He stepped back and you fell off the bed with a heavy thump, a strangled out cry coming out of you. Your arms shook as you attempted to push yourself up, but he kicked you back down to the floor and placed a sturdy boot down on the middle of your back. You yelled out to him to stop — to stop reading the very secrets you kept from him — your voice starting to go hoarse.

"...If you, Reiner, find this when I'm long gone, know that I've always hated you. I've always been sickened by your touch and your kisses, I never meant any of those I love yous, and I've always wished you died horribly during the times you went off to those battles. I wanted to receive a letter or be told personally that you were killed in action, shot down by the cannons that were able to pierce through your armor." Reiner dug his heel into you, an agonizing shriek being pulled out of your beaten body.

"I'd weep, not of sadness but of joy because I would be finally be free from your clutches. Whatever you thought you taught me in order to be your perfect spouse, I was playing a role in order to survive this insanity of yours. I never loved you and I never will. Don't try to go back to Paradis to find me. You would have to bring back my dead body in order to bring me back to Marley." This was a complete and utter nightmare.

"I treated you to a life of safety, I took care of you when you were sick and injured. I didn't have sex with you because I wanted to respect your space. I fed you, clothed you, I did everything. I put you on a pedestal all because I love you." He dug deeper into your spine, your nails scraping into the wood.

"And this is what I get in return? An ungrateful little bitch who'd rather be ripped apart by Pure Titans than love me. A fucking whore that bats her eyes at a different man while calling the man she's married to a dog."

You gritted your teeth as hot tears poured down your face. "Yeah, that's right. I'd rather die horribly against a Titan if it meant that I'd never be with you. I'd fuck Porco if I could, I would do it behind your back if I wanted to too. Out of everyone you chose in Paradis, you married the one that was too much trouble. That's what Hoover said about me, right?"

His foot finally came off your back, letting you finally breathe, until he crouched down and pushed you up against the side of the bed, holding you there. Reiner was pissed beyond belief, teeth bared at you. "He did. He did and even if he was right, I didn't care because I thought I could change you."

"But you never were able to, you failed. Nothing you can do can change how I feel about you. But what can I expect—" Your narrowed eyes met with his, seeing the conflicted anger bubble in his brown irises. A small smug smirk grew on your face, your head tilting off to the side tauntingly.

"A dog will always be a dog."

A singular hand wrapped around your neck in a flash, the sheer force making you gag as he cut off your air flow once more. You fought back, trying to pull off his arm with both of your hands around his forearm. Small little sparks flickered off of him, fear melting into your expression. If you weren't imagining it, that would've meant that he was ready to turn. If you so much as put the smallest scratch on him, he'd transform. He'd kill everyone in the vicinity because of you.

" 'M s... s-sorry." You strangled out and he finally let you go, watching you fall back onto the ground. Your neck had to be bruised from getting violently choked all the damn time.

"If that's how you see me, fine. I'll just fuck you like one since that's all you see me as."

What?! Did you hear him right? That was literally the last thing you wanted! And maybe that's why he's resorting to it, the sick fucker.

The sound of a belt unbuckling caught your attention and you panicked, quickly pushing him away and attempted to retreat by crawling. Everything in your body still sorely burned but it was better than getting your virginity taken. He grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back, making you shriek in surprise. Before standing up, he placed you back in your original position, making you sit on the ground right in front of him with your head against the side of the mattress.

"I should've done this right from the start." Reiner sneered, pulling out his partially-hard dick from the confines of the dark uniform pants he wore. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, thighs and mouth clenching tightly as if they were suddenly glued together. On numerous awkward occasions and the night of the Porco incident, you've felt it up against you but never seen it like this; the only time you ever seen a dick was diagrams of it in class during the training corps.

But this monster!? No fucking way that thing of his would fit anywhere inside your body. It was stupidly thick, his hand loosely wrapped around the veiny shaft as he slowly stroked himself hard directly in front of you. The tip towards the midpart of his cock was slightly flushed a soft pink and when he tugged back the skin for you to see, the tip was actually a rosy color. You couldn't even bring yourself to describe how hefty his balls were as they rested on the outside of his pants.

Reiner's heart was thumping hard as he jerked himself right in front of your face, his cheeks burning up as your owlish eyes stared at it. Was it that fascinating? This was terribly embarrassing for him — he was still a virgin too and this was technically the first time he's done anything sexual in your conscious presence — but you've led him on for years, this was punishment for the cruel lies you've fed.

He let out a quiet, shaky breath when he showed you the tip, your curious eyes still observing him. God, the two of you should've done this way back in the honeymoon. Maybe this wasn't the way he wanted each other's first times to be, but he would be lying if your stubbornness wasn't completely making him hard right now.

Once it was completely at full mast, you were pretty sure it was bigger than the length of your face. This was a threat, a danger to your body.

"Open." You glared at him and shook your head in refusal, even going so far to put your hands over your mouth. Who the hell does he think he is? He scoffed, his free hand grabbing the hair at the back of your head and jerking it back roughly. Asshole.

"Open. Or else."

You rolled your eyes at him, removing one hand as if you were complying. Instead, you put your middle finger up and smugly smiled under your other hand. He frustratingly growled under his breath and pulled at your hair again, holding onto it this time around until your scalp began to sting. You started slapping and hitting at his thigh to make him stop, carefully trying to avoid touching it. If this went any longer, he'd probably sever your scalp from your skull. But he refused to let go, waiting until you took off your hand and replaced it with him.

"Alright! I'll fucking do it! Just stop!" Screaming into your hand, you finally unwillingly gave in after the pain got too much for you but hesitated to even lay a finger on it. He loosened his grip but still held onto your hair, lightly caressing it between his fingers.

He was still holding it in one hand so you put your hands on his thighs and nervously leaned in. Closing your eyes shut, you shakily placed the tip in between your lips. It was warmer than you thought, a sticky substance staining your lips as you began to pull away. Was that satisfying enough for him? Absolutely not. Unbeknownst to you, he had other plans, unexpectedly shoving his cock through and bottoming out completely.

Your eyes shot open as you gagged badly, trying to wiggle out of his grip and recoiling your head backwards against the mattress. Panic ran through your body as he refused to let go, only pushing in impossibly deeper down your throat. This wasn't meant to be in your mouth, much less shoved completely down your throat without care. You resorted to try and settle down, breathing through your nose in panicked bursts. If you threw up on him, he'd probably pull out but if he didn't, you'd choke on your own vomit.

An audible groan came out of him once everything was in and he clenched at your hair. Reiner partially felt sorry for doing this to you but he couldn't resist when he watched you basically give a cute little kiss on his tip. He tilted his head to the side, experimentally thrusting in short bursts and watching your reaction. The inside of your mouth was insanely hot and you kept vocally protesting, sending vibrations down and against his dick. You kept constantly moving, almost bobbing your head back and forth along with his light prodding, persistently trying to get him out. He felt your tongue stroking against the bottom of his shaft, a shiver going down his spine.

Your tear-stricken gaze looked up at him, inadvertently begging him to free you from this but he only felt himself become even more stiff. Shit, he could cum right there and now. It felt too good for him to take it out just because you were suffocating, you deserved all of this after all.

Tears began to fall down your cheeks as he kept his cock locked in, your jaw already aching from being pried open for so long. You tried biting down but the sheer thickness made it quite literally impossible. You didn't want to die suffocating on his dick, what a humiliating headstone that would be. Here lies Y/N Braun: Beloved daughter and wife, died being forced to appease her husband sexually since she wasn't able to escape Marley fast enough.

Reiner suddenly started to let out soft grunts and forcibly pushed you closer from the back of your head with both hands, your face flushed against his lower half. Something viscously warm went down your throat in inconsistent spurts, eyes widening in shock as you were forced to swallow the liquid. What the fuck, did he just—!?

Copious amounts of drool and still-warm cum spilled out as he finally pulled out, the fluids dribbling down your chin as you started coughing up a lung. The taste was unlike anything you had before, meshing from a dull salty to a bearable bittersweet flavor. To your horror, he was still hard, twitching right in front of you as pearl-like beads of white ran down his length. Weren't men supposed to go soft afterwards?

Reiner didn't say anything, only panting before crouching down to your level. You shot a glare at him as you rubbed your throat, heaving slowly. Unlike you, his large pupils were blown out with lustful possession and he dove in to kiss you, ignoring the fact that he was consuming his own fluids intermingled with your saliva.

You fought back, teeth hitting teeth. It only egged him on however, pushing you against the bedside as he continued to ravage your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip. An involuntary gasp slipped out and he pushed his tongue in, the muscle brushing against yours. You could barely breathe, completely overwhelmed with everything that was happening to you.

Large hands grabbed at your hips and pulled you closer to his lower half, your body twitching at the sudden movement. You went to shove him off while he was distracted sucking your face off, but he barely pulled away to let the two of you breathe. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes locked on each other as the two of you drew in intense, erratic breaths.

"Can Porco kiss you like that?"

You were rendered speechless, Reiner suddenly picking you up from the ground. You didn't fight him when he did, already exhausted and still shellshocked from what he had asked. He laid you down on your back but your legs still dangled off the bed, confusion forming in your expression. His figure shadowed over you, the lamp barely illuminating his features.

He thought you were still so pretty despite becoming a mess that he caused, your eyes still glimmering in uncertainty. Since you've graciously let him accidentally ejaculate in your mouth, he had to return the favor to you, even if he was still angry at you. Tonight was the night to do absolutely everything, even if you still hated him at the end. He'll change your feelings towards him no matter what, even if he reached the end of his Titan's inheritance.

He dropped down in front of you, lifting up one of your legs and started placing short kisses down your calf to your inner thigh. It was sorta ticklish, partially because of his stubble, until he started needily sucking and licking the skin. You bit down on your tongue, tired of giving any satisfaction of whether something he did was pleasurable to you. He won't win, not this time around.

He reached for your other leg as he dropped the other on his shoulder, and repeated his actions, biting down when he was close to your womanhood. You winced at the pain, trying to push his face away with your hand. But before you could, Reiner pulled away and you swore you saw your blood stained on his teeth before he licked it away.

"What are you—" You inhaled sharply as a finger tentatively prodded against your covered hole, face immediately erupting in heat.

"You're wet." Reiner bluntly stated as he withdrew it, a string of your fluids still attached. He was just as surprised as you were. He didn't even do anything to you yet, unless you liked getting your throat stuffed with every inch of him. His cock twitched impatiently underneath him, no longer drenched with your saliva and his cum.

"W-wait that can't be, I-I..." You fumbled around your words, utterly lost on what was happening to your body. You tried to sit up but he started to tug your nightgown upwards, alarms setting off in your ears. You couldn't be attracted to this, to him.

"Hold on. R-Reiner st... stop—" You were cut short when he pressed two of his fingers back onto the dampened cloth, slowly beginning to rub up and down. One hand shot up to your mouth, swallowing down any little moans that tried to escape. The pleasurable shivers from the last time he fondled you were back, a shudder going down your spine.

Reiner wanted more, almost ripping the fabric off. But he restrained himself, no matter how much his dick was begging to be touched or be inside of you. He pulled them off, weaving it through your legs before you could protest and enveloped his mouth in-between your slickened folds. He groaned heavily against you, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. You tasted so sweet, better than he had ever imagined in his mind. He began to lap up the liquids that continued to gush out with every stir of his tongue, your thighs squishing his head.

He could die a happy man now that he finally had a taste of you.

You shivered as his tongue teased around your hole, greedily licking up your arousal that continued to spill out. The hand against your mouth clenched into a fist and your fingers ached as they gripped the sheets underneath you tightly, head throwing back as he began to attentively suck on your hardened clit. Why the hell was he so good? It was impossible to think that he learned this from someone else.

Unconsciously, you pushed your hips more towards his face and bucked when he laid his tongue flat against you. Soft moans started to slip out along with your panting, the fuzzy pleasure getting to your head. His hands grabbed the meat of your thighs and forced you to stay open, his grip tightening if you tried to close them. This shouldn't feel so good, betrayal whispering in every cell of your brain.

"Reiner," A pathetic whimper of his name came out of your mouth before you could stop it. He looked up at you, still dragging his tongue from your entrance to the hardened nub. "Please, please stop, s-something doesn't feel right."

He ignored you per usual, as if anything you say now would change anything, but his eyes never left yours. There was a sort of pressure building up around your lower half and it was terrifying, you didn't know what was going to transpire. As if he knew what was happening, the pacing of his tongue quickened, your hand shooting up and grabbing his hair. The sensation was too much for you to handle. As you tried to tug him away from your pussy, he moaned against you, a shot of pleasure running through you.

You were close, he could tell from how much you desperately started to ride against his tongue, his nose nudging against your clit with every little flinch. The influx of juices that were leaking out started to even become more apparent. You couldn't hide it, you loved him pleasuring you. He would've been willing to do this for you whenever you asked, all you had to do was let him into your heart. As much as he wanted you to suffer, he's a kind man, he'll let you release in his mouth. Without hesitation, Reiner started to rub your clit with his fingers as he tongue-fucked your entrance, feeling your walls clench around the muscle.

Your involuntary moans became louder until your orgasm hit you fast and hard, your back arching as blinding white stars filled your vision. Your body shuddered and rode against his face, your hand accidentally gripping his hair too hard and pulling him close to your pussy. It felt like you were knocked dizzy as if he had struck you once more, panting heavily as you came down from that giddy high bit by bit. He finally pulled away but still was lazily rubbing your clit, your body quivering with every teasing rotation.

"You did so good baby, you're so good." Reiner quietly praised, placing a wet kiss on your thigh. You couldn't say anything in reply, still completely drained out of everything. He removed his fingers away and got up, your body lightly twitching from the loss of contact.

You had to watch him remove his shirt, heart skipping as you saw the ripples of muscle you've avoided to look at for years. God, you missed out on a lot. His chest was beefier than you expected, only feeling it against you through his hugs and the occasional times that you've accidentally touched them.

He pushed down his pants further, almost completely bare from what you were able to see. There was a trail of slightly dark blonde hair above the base of his dick, the wisps of it stopping below his belly button. The sound of thuds from his boots followed suit and were shoved aside with his foot. Terror began to claw out through the warm haze as he pulled you more to the edge by your hips and started to line his cock up to your entrance, the fat tip nearing your hole as he held onto one of your thighs to keep you open.

"W-Wait Reiner, it's not going to fit!" You begged, the realization finally hitting. You were going to get destroyed by him. If you finally got fucked, there was no going back. There was a chance that you were never going to be the same person ever again afterwards.

"I don't care, I'm fucking you whether or not it fits." He lowly growled, his personality doing a complete turnaround suddenly. You tried struggling, hands shooting up to his chest and pushing, digging your nails into his stupidly meaty pecs as he ignored you. Your legs were wildly kicking around in protest from a sudden shot of adrenaline, but the hand on your thigh had squeezed you to the point where you thought he would rip your flesh right off if you kept fighting him. There was no way out of this anymore, complete and utter hopelessness settling in the pit of your stomach as you finally gave into his desire.

He pushed the uncut tip in through your folds, a pained whine coming out of you as he continued to stretch you out. It burned as he slowly and completely sheathed himself in you, hot tears falling down your cheeks. He was simply too big for your poor body to handle, unused to anything being inside. You uncontrollably tightened around him, almost hyperventilating from the pain.

"Reiner it hurts, take it out please!" You cried out and tried to move off of it, only meeting with painful throbs in your gaped cunt. The hand that held you open went to your hip and kept you steady, still speared around his cock.

Reiner used his free hand and wiped your tears away, licking his thumb afterwards. Was that supposed to be some form of dull comfort? What a jerk, punishing you like this. A few more agonizing seconds went by and he experimentally rolled his hips against you, a gasp shooting out of you as you felt the tip briefly press against your cervix.

You started pleading with a mantra of his name, teary eyes inspecting his, searching for some sort of penitence. There was nothing, nothing but a burning fire of anger. It was your fault that it had gotten this far, the rage blinding him to go through this sort of tortuous action.

Maybe if you let him do you once before, he would've been satiated from the start.

He was holding himself back, feverish gummy walls clenching onto his cock like a vise. You were babbling like an idiot from the slightest movement, saying his name as if it was the only thing that was keeping you from going mad. He thought that it was cute how you started shortening his name to only Rei, he'd never heard that before.

"Did you forget how much you hate my guts? How much you'd rather die than get fucked by me, a dog?" Reiner finally spoke, taunting as he began to rub your clit, watching how your head rolled back into the messed up sheets in complete submission.

"Fuck. I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whimpered out a quick apology, the same build-up of pressure forming in the pit of your stomach. Why were you apologizing? You never felt the slightest bit of pity for this man before, but you'd do anything for him to get this thing out of you as soon as possible.

"Rei, I'm sorry. I really am. You're not — ah — you're not a dog. Y-you're not. T-take it out please, you're too big."

"Sorry doesn't fix what you said." He felt you clench up, pulling him in deeper. He started to pick up his pace, embarrassing squelching sounds of your sopping pussy becoming louder as he started to steadily pound into you. Reiner watched with every heavy thrust he made, your stomach would slightly bulge out. He almost laughed at the sight, he really is too big for you.

"Reiner—"

"Sorry doesn't fix what you wrote." You couldn't stop yourself from crying out as he ceaselessly bobbed back and forth, the stretch becoming less and less painful the more he fucked you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he hit a particular spot within you, core squeezing. He took notice from how your muscles tightened around him, beginning to angle himself to only hit that specific area, a towering pleasure enveloping your insides. This cursed man and his godforsaken attentiveness.

"Rei—"

You couldn't hold back your moans any longer, the constant stimulation on your clit and within your pussy was undeniably too good for your body to ignore.

"Sorry doesn't fix three years of lies." Reiner pushed himself in roughly, his lower half flushed against yours and you immediately fell apart, wanton moans following as you came on his cock in short spasms. His hand gripped your hip in an achingly rigid fashion as your walls fluttered, trying to milk him for all he's worth.

Disgust began to crawl in and you turned your head away from him as the euphoria fogged up your thoughts once more. He didn't stop despite you already finishing, short little whimpers escaping you as you felt his veiny shaft continuously bully your oversensitive walls. He leaned in and forced you to face him once more, kissing you hard but slow. Your arms wrapped around him suddenly, your hands clawing down into his back. He winced against your mouth and bit down on your lip in return, a painful cry slipping out as you pulled away for air.

Reiner dove back to kiss you, barely giving you any second to recuperate. Your moans muffled against his mouth as you came again without warning, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time as you unintentionally pulled his torso closer to yours with your arms. He let out a soft groan against your lips and you felt a burning warmth fill your insides up, devastation immediately filling your mind.

This was it. Everything that you've worked so hard for in order to prevent this scenario had crumbled to pieces. Was it really worth it to even try in the first place? You despised him, you hated his entire being so much.

You then realized that he hadn't pulled out, vaguely feeling that he was still hard but his pace going back to a slow rock. You were so exhausted and so sensitive, what more did he want out of you?

He could see that you were already getting weaker, slow and heavy breaths against his chest. Your pussy was still so warm and tight that his mouth nearly watered as he leisurely fucked you at a snail's pace. He needed more, needed more of you.

While still sheathed inside, Reiner lifted you up further into the middle of the bed and slowly turned you around, making you hold yourself up on your hands and knees. As much as your limbs burned and ached, every light movement he made within you had you twitch and gasp, grasping at the sheets beneath your palms. He carefully removed your nightgown, weaving it through your arms and head with little resistance and threw it somewhere in the room. You didn't try to hide your bare body from him anymore, flinching as you felt him lean over and lovingly kiss down from your nape to your back. For some reason, that pained you even more.

"You wanted a dog," Reiner's voice gruffly whispered into your ear, your eyes widening as his hips began to move away from yours. "So I'll give you a dog."

He completely pulled himself out of your pussy and sheathed it back in all at once, the thickness filling up your insides. You cried out in shock, almost barely noticing the fact that his inhumanely stiff cock was no longer hurting you but instead flooding your body with an undeniable pleasure. His hands gripped the side of your hips once more, setting a brutal pace that nearly had you start drooling.

With this new position that Reiner put you in, it felt like his cock was pushing impossibly deeper with every aggressive stroke and the oversensitivity had caused your gummy walls to keep squeezing along with his thrusts. Your arms were shaking even more, barely able to keep yourself up on your hands.

"Fuck baby, you're squeezing me so much." He groaned and from his tone, you knew he had the smuggest grin on his stupid face.

"Almost makes me think that you like getting fucked in this position." Reiner's warm body leaned against your back and one of his hands left your hip, wrapping itself around your throat and forcing you to make eye contact with him.

You were right — he was smiling like an idiot — a faint sheen of sweat laid on the skin of his face, small beads rolling down. From the lamp's light, you could see that he was flushed pink, similar to when he began to get alcohol into his system. Little did you know that he was pussy-drunk, obsessed in the way you squeezed down on his shaft with every thrust he did, trying so desperately to look like you weren't enjoying this when your body was saying otherwise.

"For someone that says that she hates me, you sure are taking me so well." He cooed, his teeth biting down on the corner of his lip.

"F-fuck you." You barely managed to say those words with his hand choking you but he finally let go, strands of hair falling into your face. Reiner chuckled to himself while placing his hand on the midst of your back, pushing you down until your chest was pressed against the bedding and your ass facing up.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Both of his hands resumed back onto the peaks of your hips and he started plunging his cock into you at an alarming rate. The unwavering pattern of wet slaps of skin-on-skin contact paired with the sounds of his heavy breathing and your short gasps started to make your head spin. Reiner's hands were squeezing your hips so tightly as he continued to ravage your drenched and dribbling hole, you were sure that his handprints left their mark behind.

It was animalistic and you could feel yourself slowly losing to the carnality of it all. In a matter of minutes without realizing it, you began to rock yourself back and forth to match up to his thrusts. Does it really matter anymore? Might as well enjoy it as much as you can.

"Hah— You wanna cum?" His hand slipped around, his fingers dawdling around your swollen clit, not quite putting pressure on it but enough to where it made you desperate.

You nodded quickly against the mattress and a sharp strike on your ass was given, your body jolting from the suddenness of it.

"Use your words." He teased and you swallowed your pride, tilting your head to the side.

"I wanna — ngh — I wanna c-cum." You mumbled quietly only to retrieve another strike to your ass, the flesh jiggling under his palm. His pace slowed back down, the pressure within you slowly fading away. No, no, no. You were almost there. You attempted to buck back on his cock in an urgent fashion but he held you still, frustration bubbling in your mind.

"Louder." His fingers traced over the welts and bruises on your skin, a shiver going down your spine. "Louder and I'll give you what you want."

You forgot that he was torturing you. This whole thing that he started was a punishment but the way his words and his light touches immediately went down to your cunt, you couldn't help but feel your body betray your mind. It felt too embarrassing to repeat until the fingers on your clit pressed down with more pressure and started to rapidly circle around the nub.

Why was he doing this? Part of you could care less, not when you could feel yourself getting close again. You moaned, grinding against his movements as if any apprehension that you once had before never existed in the first place. Close, you were getting so close once more and then he abruptly stopped, the pads of his fingertips slipping out from in-between your puffy lips.

You looked back at him with almost glassy eyes, a crushing disappointment bubbling in your throat. "W-what?! Why'd you stop?"

Reiner only smiled, as if he had done no harm. "What do you want again baby? I'm sorry, it slipped my mind."

Is... is he serious? No, he had to be joking. The cruel bastard was building you up, only to make you dissatisfied. Dissatisfied and wanting more. You bit the side of your tongue.

"I want you to make me cum." The familiar feeling of his hand hitting your ass again had your skin begin to throb, a pained cry escaping you. "P-Please."

"So polite are we?" You could feel the pads of his fingertips near your clit once more but his cock started to slip out of you, every slow inch of his veiny shaft sliding out of your walls left you breathless. He barely left the tip in you, mixed essences from the both of you beginning to slowly spill out and down your inner thighs. "But I didn't quite catch that."

From there, over and over, Reiner built you up towards your impending climax, only to pause when you were right about to burst. It was like he knew you were almost about to get there, as if he was some kind of prophet. His fingers were wet with slick and cum, and you were acutely aware of his cockhead tormentingly moving in and out of your hole with little to no movement.

Your body was trembling, not from the exhaustion anymore, and a complete haze of lust and desire sunk its claws deep into the crevices of your mind. How much longer would he play this game of his? You knew he was holding himself back, tormenting himself from the satisfaction he was seeking for the entire night. As his fingers slipped away from your swollen cunt for the umpteenth time in a row, all of a sudden, something inside you cracked.

"Reiner, please please I wanna cum. I-I need to cum. God, just fuck me already!" You cried out, grinding your lower half against his for any sort of stimulation in absolute delirium. Reiner felt your hand try to slip him back into you, but only resulting in his cock messily slipping through and clumsily bumping against your clit. You whined in mute anger but still rubbed yourself against the stiff shaft, making do with what you were given.

He was thrown off from how quickly you folded to his request, almost freezing at the sight. To see you in such an achingly frantic state was everything that he didn't know he needed. His poor, poor wife, maddened by the desire and pleasure. You missed out for years due to your pathetic vows to abstain from any sexual contact from him and now that you've gotten a taste, you became immediately addicted to the feeling. To him. How cruel it was for him to keep you away from his cock, his heart aching as tears begin to fall down your beautiful face. Oh how can he stay mad at you?

After all, he can never say no to his beloved wife.

As promised, he started putting more pressure as he rubbed your clit, sheathing his dick quickly inside of your hole. You've never felt such relief in your life, walls squeezing and welcoming his thickness in with every greedy plunge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk..." You mindlessly drawled out curses into the wrinkled sheets and he muttered jokingly about something about you being so foul-mouthed but who the hell cares? A smile grew on your face until you saw white stars, searingly coming undone once more around his shaft. You could feel his tip press against your cervix, your figure stiffening and jerking against him with every quick spasm. His heavy body leaned over against your back, mouth enveloping the crook of your neck and biting down as he came with you, hot spurts of cum filling up your womb even more.

Unlike the other three times you came this evening, this orgasm ripped through your body. You might as well have blacked out from the blinding ecstasy.

You could barely feel yourself be turned back around, eyes tiredly flickering over and looking at his face. You stared at him absently, mind slowly going back in time. There were times throughout your life from when you've known Reiner that you've thought that he was irrevocably handsome. Yes, you've once and had begun to always considered him as family as a soldier, but you couldn't fault yourself for looking at your friend — husband — as more than something from time to time when the two of you were younger.

He's always been there for you, had seen you at your worst moments and yet, yet... he was the one that stayed. When you've made numerous attempts at his life, when you've nearly died from a Titan and blood loss, when the two of you would get in trouble with the superiors in Paradis; over and over, Reiner would be there. No matter what, he's the constant in your life, be it by choice or not.

He was kissing down your neck, nipping at your skin, and leaving purple marks with every light kiss. His calloused hand brushed against one of your tits, palming and squeezing at the flesh before he dove in and began sucking at the hardened bud. Your breath hitched as you watched and felt him roll his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other one with his free hand.

Sucking your breasts seemed to leave him entranced, a heavy sigh leaving him as he started to grind himself against the area underneath you. In the weirdest way possible, it was almost memorizing watching him, softly moaning when he switched over to the other breast. This whole experience was making you crazy, maybe as insane as he is.

Reiner muttered something against your chest about milk coming in and how good the taste would be, quietly assessing your expression afterwards. There was a hint of indifference within your eyes but you couldn't muster up any more words to snap back to him, complete exhaustion weighing heavy on your slackened limbs. You could say the same about him, it seemed that he was barely running on anything as well but that damned determination in his eyes said otherwise.

You knew his goal. You knew that this wasn't the last time the two of you were going to do this until he reached it. Maybe even then, he wouldn't even stop there either. That's just who Reiner is, the stubborn man.

He reached over to brush the strands out of your sweaty face, the burning warmth of your cheeks connecting against his palms.

"I love you."

You didn't even realize that he had pulled out from before, but regardless of that, he still positioned himself above you to push his dick back in your dripping sore cunt again. His thighs had rested on top of yours and he began to push your legs back towards your chest, holding you open by his muscled arms. Though he towered over you, he positioned himself to face you, his hazel eyes lovingly staring down into yours.

"Say it back." He let out a quiet whimper as he pushed his sensitive cock back into you, your brain melting at the overstuffed feeling that it gave you once more. "Please."

The gentleness of the way he said it, even within your dazed mind, had your heart pounding.

"I love you." He stated again as he began to rut his thick cock into your used core. You could only breathlessly moan in response, feeling him even deeper than before. You've never realized how much burningly warm Reiner was when he's this close on top of you, his body almost swallowing yours. You watched as his face contorted in complete focus as he methodically rutted into you, his hefty balls slapping against your ass with every given thrust.

This was different, not like the other times in this long night. It was tender, cautious. It was as if he was afraid of breaking you, as if you were suddenly the most fragile thing in the world. For some unknown reason, this realization made your stomach flutter like nothing else before. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to your face.

The two of you stared at each other quietly, lips parted and steadily heaving. Without the fuel of your hatred, all you could think of was how lovely he looked like this, as if he belonged in this position above you.

You moved and pushed yourself upwards, willingly kissing him for the first time in years. You lost yourself to the feeling of his lips on yours, all the while as his cock continued to spear your hole. Unlike him for most of the night, he stiffened and stilled, hesitantly kissing you back in return. The confirmation that he desperately sought for years, this was more than enough for him. His thrusts picked back up and became more steadier in pace, taking his time in pleasing the two of you.

He pulled away from your swollen lips for air, his breath shuddering as your aching walls quivered around him. Your hands cupped his face, quietly begging him to give you one more orgasm. One more but you’re so spent and sensitive, unsure if you had another one in you. You had to, for him.

"C-cumming, 'm cum—!"

You wordlessly cried out from another body-wracking orgasm, legs wrapping around his waist tightly and pulling him in even deeper than humanly possible. Your body became so pliable underneath him and without skipping a beat, he began to slam himself harder into you, the squelch of his cock jutting into you becoming louder by the second. To impregnate you with his child, that would be his final parting gift to you when he gives up his Titan. He had to reach his goal, hell, he might've already from the first time he got into your pussy.

There was always a however. Even then when he unfortunately leaves you alone with his kid, what Reiner wanted the most in the entire world was to hear you say that you loved him. Not in the fake way that you did for the past three years, but as your true self. The one that he had completely exposed tonight and the one he fell in love with ever since that fateful sparring day.

"Please Y/N, say it back." He panted and you tiredly shook your head, biting at your bottom lip. "I need you to say it out loud."

"I... I-I can't. Reiner, I just ca— HMPH!" He quickly silenced you with another kiss, rejecting the notion.

Why? Why? Why? Why can't you? It didn't make sense nor did it settle well in his stomach. Of course there were things that you could never forgive him for, he was dangerously flawed for the most part but somehow, in some way, he wanted you to see him as redeeming. If you can't, then how can he live with the burden of everything he's done?

Reiner suddenly removed his lips from yours again, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed tightly shut as he worked towards his final orgasm. His movements were becoming more erratic until his lower half stilled and once more, you could feel his hot cum spill into your womb, occasionally rutting to push the liquid impossibly deeper. His grunts were broken and airy, as if he had been finally emptied of everything in him.

The two of you were quiet despite the heavy breathing that was unevenly shared. A few minutes later, he slowly started to slide his softened cock out of your achingly raw pussy.

You laid there, used and tired. Reiner didn't move from on top of you and you almost knocked out before small, warm splatters made contact against your chest. You reopened your eyes to see him crying over your body, his lip quivering and his body shaking.

"Why are you...?" You began with a hoarse voice, attempting to sit up.

"Five years."

"What?"

"I have five years left," For some reason, your blood ran cold and your heart sank down to your stomach. "It's a Titan inheritor thing. Whoever receives any of the Nine Titans has thirteen years to live."

Reiner looked at you, trying to wipe away his tears with a short laugh. "I know you won't forgive me, I wouldn't either. I'm just another devil that couldn't keep his hands or eyes to himself, and I'm a shameless traitor for bringing you here but Y/N..."

His hand reached over and caressed your cheek slowly, just like he did when he brought you over to Marley. "I really do love you. No matter what, my very heart and soul belongs to you. Do what you want to me but nothing — nothing — about how I feel towards you will ever change."

Tears of your own started to trail down your cheeks, your head shaking slowly. Why were you crying? Isn't that what you wanted? It's strange, feeling this new moderation towards him. No matter how much you pushed him away or attempted to kill him, he took the pain. Was it because he knew how little time he had left? Yet on the same side of the coin, was he lying in order for you to feel bad about his situation?

You don't know. For the first time, you've never felt so unsure of yourself. It should be final, you should've only felt complete hate for this man but...

"Say something, anything." Reiner put his hands on your shoulders, his grip tightening as he shakily spoke.

"Hit me, choke me, spit at me. I'm a selfish monster, I ruined everything for you."

Fear. You've seen such an expression on his face before, when you knocked him out with the pills and when he almost lost you to that Titan. Yet something about this face of his made you feel indifferent, guilty even. You realize now that it wasn't a suitable look for him.

"Yeah, you did ruin everything." You quietly replied, completely sitting yourself up and moving towards him cautiously.

"My home, my family, my dreams of becoming a proud soldier in the Survey Corps. All of those things, you took them away from me." Taking his head into your hands, you started to wipe the tears away from his face. He looked stunned as you began to slowly climb on top of him, your dripping pussy rubbing steadily against his partially-hard cock, belly half swollen with his cum.

"Maybe I still hate you for that Reiner and I'll spit on your grave when it comes to it, but there's one thing I can't deny." You airily giggled as you lined yourself up once his cock hardened.

"I love the way you fuck me."

His knuckles turned white as you lowered yourself down, completely sheathing him inside you. His face softened in pleasure as you began to ride him; ah yes, this is what you liked to see. Your legs were shaking like no other but the pleased smile you had on your face was unwavering.

"If you make me cum enough times, I might just say that I love you too."

Reiner's hands immediately latched onto your bruised hips, a similar grin growing on his face. He's got you right where he wanted you. You may think you had always had the upper hand till now, but he's not stupid. Getting you addicted to the feeling of his cock was the first step, next was you getting comfortable with the idea of having his kids. Well, you could already be halfway there from the way you were slamming your hips down into his.

He buried his face into your neck, his canines dragging against the marked skin as you bounced yourself on his length. Though what he said about his short lifespan was true, he'll spend it fucking you stupid, until you can really mean your 'I love you's'.

The devil he couldn't resist from the land of hell. You were his and he was yours.

Forever and more, till the end of time.

[canisxx]

So.. chat. I have a question for y'all.

I'm asking because, well... I really like this genre of uh.. horror? psychological horror? About all that stalking, kidnapping, manipulation and stockholm syndrome, yk.

Imo Sniper. He's the guy who would stare through the rifle scope and collect pictures. But too anxious to approach or talk, distancing as much as possible on purpose.

❗I know how to separate fiction from real life. I do NOT want any of this irl ,and I don't want anyone to romanticize this IN REAL LIFE. Fiction should stay fiction. ❗