#like 'how dare you be frustrated that the game is unfair'

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

this is like, kind of petty but it annoys me a bit when people say okuni got hate for no reason bc im relatively certain people only really got annoyed with her AFTER it became pretty clear that theyd gone and put 3 male npcs (and at the time it looked like there might have been 4) in her event in a year that had only had 3 male units released. people had already been getting angry with the previous event and jacques it really wasnt anything to do with her personally so much as it was pushback over the incredibly one sided catering to only one demographic that played the game. like yeah, not all of the ways that was then expressed was appropriate but when talking about it after the fact its kind of annoying to act like her criticism happened in a complete vacuum with no external factors

[ode2rin]

it has become an awful pattern of habit how much itoshi sae always shows up at your doorstep only when he wants to. 

“don’t go out with oliver.”

and here he was again, like a recurring relapse that happens every single time you thought you’re doing better. the kind that hits when you think you're finally making progress, that momentary flicker of doing better before it all crumbles.

and you were. you’re doing good, doing better, but god, does it hurt like hell when he pulls stunts like this.

it was a relentless tug-of-war, a game he played so unfairly, leaving you with no rules, no defenses. you were damn sick of it. 

“really?” the word escaped as a scoff, a blend of disbelief and irritation coating your voice. “you're showing up to my place at this hour just to say that?” 

a drawn-out exhale left sae's lips at your reaction, the scent of alcohol accompanying it—a scent foreign to the sae you'd known. was he drinking? itoshi sae doesn’t drink – or at least the sae you knew would never let a single drop of alcohol taint his flesh. 

“just don’t. he’ll hurt you.”

a bitter laugh escaped you, “you're one to talk about hurting people, aren't you?”

if you didn't know better, you'd mistake the look he shot you for something resembling an apology mixed with regret. but no, you knew that those eyes can never hold such, not for you, not for anyone.

“news flash, itoshi. you don’t have the right to decide who i can or cannot go out with.” 

“don’t i?” 

his challenge lingered in the air, a question not constrained by words but driven by conflicting wills, a daring meeting of gazes that had been evaded until now.

you're so fucking unfair, itoshi sae.

“leave,” you spat, your grip on the doorknob tightened, fingers almost digging into the cool metal. 

“don’t i, y/n? do i not have a right to you?”

“please, sae. just go,” you murmured, eyes squeezed shut, a trace of tears threatening to break free.

“— because you have all damn rights to me that it fucking terrifies me.” 

and there it was.

the vulnerability he so fiercely and stubbornly concealed, laid bare for you to witness. it slipped out like an admission, raw and unguarded.

sae's insides churned as your gaze bore into him, the intensity of it feeling like a searing heat that left him exposed, his thoughts laid bare. it was as if you were looking at him as if he had grown a second head, an incredulity mirrored in his own disbelief at what he had just blurted.

but it’s the truth, a truth etched not in alcohol-induced haze but in the sobering clarity that you, ever loving you, terrified him. 

“you– you terrify me," his words stumbled out, like he was admitting a secret he never meant to reveal. “you’re the first thought that comes to my mind, and the last one before i sleep. i feel you everywhere, your presence, your absence — it terrifies me, y/n.” 

he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration that echoed the inner chaos he couldn't quite contain. the sting of alcohol just added to the jumble of thoughts, like mixing a cocktail of emotions he wasn't prepared to deal with. 

sae had never been great with handling drinks, and here he was, wearing his heart on his sleeve, a little more vulnerable than he’d intended. 

after all, a body so foreign to alcohol can only handle so much.

and it's ironic how that also applies to sae's acceptance of your love – like a liquor he's not used to, but still very much would like a taste.

he knew he had absolutely no right to show up here; he had no right to stop you from going out with another man; he had no right to claim a part of you, not after he shattered your heart because he was afraid of his own.

he knew that, but itoshi sae is selfish. he wanted you, terrifyingly so. he hoped — prayed, even—no one will ever have you the same way he does. 

and he meant that in the most selfish way possible. because, time and time again, itoshi sae was selfish, even more so when it came to loving you.

“it terrifies me,” he carried on, a touch firmer this time, his gaze unyielding as it held yours, “how much you consume me, and it frightens me even more how much i would let you.”

“then just let me, you stupid asshole.” 

the words burst out of you, a declaration that felt like a leap of faith. your arms instinctively reached out, embracing him as if to underscore your determination. you had caught his confession like a lifeline, and now it was your turn to throw your heart into the mix.

“and you have all the damn rights to me too,” you murmured against his lips.

the truth is, he doesn't deserve you, not in the slightest. but god, you want him to— so bad. and after hearing what he said, you knew he wanted the same thing too.

you wrap your arms tighter around him, and it's like fitting together two missing pieces. you missed this, missed him. no amount of trying will ever relieve the longing. because truth be told, hearts aren't great at playing hide and seek; that much can be seen from the way you’re both holding on to each other.

“i'll love you slowly, until it's not scary, until you get used to it,” you whispered, forehead pressed against his.

in the quiet space between your whispered words, sae felt the world shift beneath his feet. 

love with you wasn't meant to be frightening. love with you wasn't meant to be all-consuming.

love with you, he realized, only needed to be exactly like this— your fingers against his nape, a smile curving your lips, and the assurance in your gaze that promised better times ahead.

“i’ll get used to it.” maybe the words came off wobbly, but he couldn’t care any less now; it was a promise.

“you better.” you let out a chuckle, genuine this time, and it took just one chuckle for sae to realize that everything will be just fine. 

[extra]:

“sae?”

you pull his attention, sensing his wakefulness from the lingering kisses he peppers on your skin. the same man who laid bare his heart to you was sprawled within your sheets, his breathing gentle against your neck.

though his lips stay sealed, the comforting squeeze of your hand relays that he was listening.

“where did you hear that i’m going out with oliver?”

a brief pause, followed by a scoff. way to ruin a moment, sae’s inner voice grumbles at the timing of your question. why bring up another guy's name now, especially when he's shirtless and right above you? the nerve.

“doesn’t matter.” he dismisses your question. 

yet, there's something oddly satisfying about riling up the usually composed sae, it’s one of your life’s greatest pleasures. and so, you press on, unable to resist the urge to tease. 

“come on, now. i want to know what made my cold and grumpy sae to show up at my door at 2 am, professing that i terrify him,” you pushed, meeting his irritated glare with an arched brow. “— and don’t give me that look. those were your words, not mine!”

tch. he clicks his tongue, fully aware you won't let him live down his confession. “got it from shidou. he told me right before asking me to drink with him.”

as those words escape sae’s lips, you burst into laughter, leaving him to wonder if he broke you with last night's late-night affection.

“what’s so funny?” he raises an eyebrow at your sudden outburst.

“shidou tricked you into drinking with him, love. i turned down oliver without a second thought. we didn't even get close to going on a date,” you playfully reveal, your grin growing. “i kind of mentioned that to shidou. we share gossip occasionally, you know.”

sae froze at what you said, and he didn’t need no damn mirror to see that he was turning red from the embarrassment and realization that he had been lured to drink.

“i’ll kill him.”

“and i’ll thank him.” may shidou get all the dopamine he so cunningly desires. 

note. i also don't know what this is so don't look at me now :P i'm throwing tomatoes at myself

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

1/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 2.2k

“Emma has ballet classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Natasha breathes nursing her mug steaming with whatever tea flavor she’s decided to drink this month. She avoids your gaze letting her eyes focus on the steam rising steadily from the cup. She sips waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” You sigh rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans. “I can take Wednesdays with Ryan if you can do Thursday nights with Emma and then we trade Tuesdays?” You suggest looking over to the woman on the other side of the counter.

“No, I have training with Steve on Thursday nights,” She declines.

“Since when?” You ask your eyebrow raised.

“Since forever.” She answers simply. “Besides you are much better at interacting with the other dance moms. Emma will want you there too.” She reminds you.

“Okay,” You say again. “What about carpool? How is that going to work if we’re in separate places? Do we keep them every other night? Switch off on weekends?”

“No, Emma’s finally gotten through her sleep regression we can’t change that now.” Natasha shakes her head. She decides she doesn’t want the tea anymore turning her back to empty it into the sink. She leans against it heavily with her arms folded gazing out of the casement window.

“Nat, we’ve been at this for an hour already,”

She turns to glare at you and if looks could kill you’d be dead.

It’s dark here in the kitchen beside the light illuminating from the stove. You’re both tired and utterly destroyed but you need to do this. You don’t want to put your children in court. Custody battles could get ugly and you want this to go right. Looking at Natasha and the frustrated expression she sports you can tell she’s tired of this too. You glance over to your bags packed and waiting for you to take them. For you to leave. You both agreed you wouldn’t stay during the night anymore only keeping up appearances for the children until you’re ready to tell them. Until Natasha is ready. She notices your looks clenching the edge of the counter.

“Have somewhere to be?”She raises a brow.

“What? No.” You roll your eyes. “I’m just wondering if we’re getting anywhere with this. If we’re doing the right thing.”

“If we’re doing the right thing?” She asks incredulously. “Only one of us has made this decision. Only one of us is working to break up this family.”

“Nat,” You warn. You really didn’t want to go there with her tonight. You can feel the splitting headache at the base of your neck. There’s tension there and you reach up with your right hand to massage the spot. You can practically feel the knots under your fingers.

“Don’t call me that,” She practically spits.

“Fine, fine.” You sigh again. “I’ll take whatever day you want. Just send me their schedules and I’ll try to keep up with it.”

“There’s no try, y/n.” Natasha scoffs. “Either you’re there or you’re not. It’s not so easy to just hop in and out of your children’s lives when you want.” She returns to a defensive stance looking at you challengingly. “Then again I forgot who raised you.”

How dare she? Your jaw clenches slightly as you try to rein in your emotions. Your father was a deadbeat dad who only spent time taking advantage of your love for too long. He would come and go as he pleased only bothering to spend time with you when he wanted to look like the father of the year. You were nothing like him. Nothing like him! As you look into those forest green eyes you can see the dare there. She wants you to say something back.

“I’m not playing into your games,” You shake your head. “There’s never a moment where I haven’t loved our children less than the day they were born. I would never.”

“And yet you’re spending more and more time at the office,” She tilts her head. “Your paperwork sees more of you than they do.”

“Natasha, that’s unfair.” You ball your fists on your side. “You know things at work have been hectic. They know that. I-I try to be there as much as I can. Besides, I distinctly remember you being gone for months at a time for missions when they were young. I don’t see you getting any awards either.”

“Hmm,” She hums. “Seems we both have something in common then.”

“What is this really about, Natasha?” You ask. “Because there’s not much left for us to say or for us to do.” You stand walking over to your bags. You slip your cell phone inside of the carry-on and turn back to her.

“Right, run away like the coward you are.” She mutters.

“What?” You’re taking steps closer to her this time. You don’t realize how close you are until she’s pressed against the counter. Your breaths are practically intermingled and this is the closest you’ve been in months you realize. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says nonchalantly. “It’s just you have a tendency to run away from your problems. You run when times get hard.”

“And you don’t?”

“Like I said we have a lot in common,” She stands a bit taller. “You don’t have to do this. Any of this I mean. If it gets hard for you. I can take Ryan and Emma and I’ll figure something out with their schedules. I’ll tell them something about you having to work or I don’t know. Just don’t play with their hearts.”

“Dammit, Natasha,” Your hand raises and you don’t miss the way she flinches. You’re not going to hit her. You would never. At that moment you feel like an idiot as you back away from her. “Jesus.” You breathe. “Nat, we can’t keep doing this. Pretending that we love each other. I mean in the beginning, things were so loving and so passionate. I’ve loved every minute of our life together but it’s just…. I…” you stumble to find your words.

“Who says I’m pretending?” She frowns.

“It’s not enough anymore for us to be holding on by a thread,” You drop your hands back to your sides. “It’s not enough for us to be two people in love anymore. That’s not how a marriage works.”

“Is that it? Or I am not enough?” She’s vulnerable at this moment looking at you. Her voice cracks just slightly and you feel your heartbreaking. You’re not heartless and you’re not a monster. You never wanted to make her feel this way. “Did you find someone else?” She asks suddenly.

“I’m not a cheater.” You reply. How could she possibly think she wasn’t enough? Natasha was everything. She’s always been everything. Your everything. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. That’s why you’re here and after 9 years of marriage and two children, you aren’t taking this lightly. You’ve sat on this for the better part of a year and you decided a divorce was better. You fought more in the past year. Spent more time apart. Kept yourself out of the house more and more. Anything to put some space between the two of you.

“You know that’s really hard to believe when you haven’t been present for a very long time,” Natasha says.

“What? Just because I’ve been away more doesn’t mean I would cheat?”Where would she ever get this idea?

“We haven’t had sex in almost two years,” Natasha points out. Damn! Has it really been that long? Surely you’ve been intimate more recently than that. There was that time a few months ago when you had her against the sink in one of the bathrooms at Tony and Pepper’s anniversary party. No. You’d gotten interrupted and forgotten all about it. “So if you’re not getting it from me you’re getting it from someone else. Just tell me instead of giving me the bullshit excuses you have been. Is it Cara from accounting? She’s sweet. Nice body. Lisa from HR? I bet she eats pussy well enough. ”

“Natasha, I am not a cheater.” Your voice raises and she immediately shushes you. If you wake the children this is going to turn into an even tougher conversation. In a hushed tone, “I can promise you, Natasha I have never cheated on you.”

“So tell me what it is,” Her tone is almost petulant and childlike. She’s frustrated and hurt. The next thing is for her to lash out and you’d much rather leave before she gets to that.

“Nat, I can’t because there’s not just one simple reason,” You try to force your mind to focus on the conversation in front of you. “We aren’t who we used to be. We fight more than we love. That’s not how a marriage should be. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for us.”

“And you made this decision all on your own,” Natasha’s voice wavers. Before you can speak again there’s a small voice coming from behind her.

“Mama?”

You both turn to see sleepy green eyes looking up at you.

Four-year-old Emma (four and a half according to her) looks between the both of you as she tries to figure out the situation in this room. She’s holding her favorite blue blanket, the one she’s had since she was a newborn, to her chest. She looks so small in her nightgown with her red hair messy as she trails over to Natasha. Her blanket drags against the ground as she walks. She raises her arms to be picked up and Natasha obliges her.

“What are you doing up, printsessa?” Natasha raises the girl onto her hip caressing her back and head as she rocks her gently.

“I heard yelling,” She pouts looking over to you through her thick lashes. She looks exactly like Natasha despite you having carried her. It’s something you both joked about after choosing her donor. Ryan looks more like you. He’s seven and apparently a much deeper sleeper. “Mommy, are you going somewhere?” Emma asks pointing her chubby fingers over to your door.

“Yeah,” You answer her.

“For how long this time?” She shoots another question.

You look to Natasha for help on how to answer but she simply looks away burying her face in Emma’s hair.

“For a little bit, Babygirl.” You try.

“But I don’t want you to go.” Emma’s pout deepens. “You have to stay and eat breakfast with me, and Mama, and Ryan.”

“Not this time, I can’t.” You say.

“Oh,” She looks down before looking up at you. “Well, when you get back can we have a sleepover in your and Mama’s bed? We haven’t done one of those in a long, long time?” Her voice is hopeful and you can tell she’s fighting her sleep again.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You can’t bring yourself to lie to her. You don’t want to be like him. Giving her false hope.

“Tell you what, Printsessa, you and Ryan can sleep with me tomorrow night.” Natasha bounces her on her hip. Emma’s eyes light up at the promise. You’re so grateful she’s taken the lead. She’s had to frequently these days. “Now you can sleep with me tonight too. Go upstairs and get warm and I’ll come and tuck you in.” She releases Emma from her hold and the girl slides down from her body. She begins to run to the stairs before stopping in her tracks. She turns to run and you kneel to catch her in your arms. She wraps her arms around your neck landing a wet kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, Mommy. Come back soon,” It’s a thing you and Natasha used to say whenever she was away on missions. Hearing your daughter utter those words brings tears to your eyes. In your peripheral, you can see Natasha is just as emotional as she wipes the tears away quickly before Emma can see.

“I will,” You manage to get out as you hold her in your arms for a few seconds. Finally, you let go and she takes off running presumably for your bedroom. You stay kneeling before rising to your full height. You reach out to Natasha to comfort her, you’re not really sure why, but you’re expecting her to pull away. She doesn’t. She allows you to pull her into your arms and she buries her face into your neck. You hold her as a sob rack her body. You dare a kiss to the side of her head and she pulls away from you as if she’s been burned.

She wraps her arms around herself defensively. She looks so small at this moment. With her black leggings and her oversized sweater.

“I’m broken, and I’m tired and it’s your fault so please leave.” She doesn’t wait for you to say anything else as she turns to follow the same path your daughter has taken. She trusts you enough to lock the door. As you look around the home you’ve built you can’t help but feel guilty. Everything you’ve built was crumbling and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

----> next part

[svp3rrn0va]

Wicked Games (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow & f!MC

Summary: MC recently ended a serious relationship with Garreth Weasley and she's in the anger stage. All she wants is to make him jealous. She approaches her friend Sebastian who she knows will be willing to help her with that. They succeed, but Sebastian gets a bit too carried away, but MC doesn't seem to mind...

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, creampie, revenge

Word Count: 4,083

For the last week, you found yourself lying awake at night wondering when Garreth would change his mind. You had been together for 8 months, and although one might argue that isn't much time, it felt like an eternity for you.

Your relationship with Garreth was the first that you felt was truly serious, and your feelings certainly reflected that. You had fallen in love -- or at least you thought you did. Whether or not you did, though, it didn't matter. You were still heartbroken.

But you were done with the tears. Especially because you knew Garreth hadn't shed any. He was the one who called it off, after all, and for no good reason. But you felt it coming for a while. He was becoming distant. You would ask if everything was alright, and he'd tell you it was, but you knew better.

Not a day has passed since he ended it that you've sat wondering what you did wrong, or what's wrong with you that suddenly made him disinterested. You didn't want that to happen, because no girl should diminish her self-worth over what a stupid boy thinks.

After all these negative thoughts, you wanted to get revenge on Garreth. How dare he make you feel this way about yourself? You didn't want to hurt him physically, of course, but he had hurt you mentally. Why not return the favor, or get a rise out of him at the very least?

There was only one thing you could think of doing to get back at him.

Make him jealous.

That's where Sebastian comes in. You've known Sebastian for years and considered him one of your best friends. He'd do anything for you. Sebastian's known around the castle for being extremely handsome, and you knew Garreth was threatened by him, but he'd never admit it.

Whenever Sebastian won in Crossed Wands, or made a good beater play in Quidditch, Garreth was always the first to scoff and ask 'So what?' while everyone else applauded and congratulated him. There was no competition, but clearly, Garreth took all of Sebastian's triumphs as personal attacks.

It was no surprise that Sebastian turned up mere minutes after you sent an owl telling him to meet you in the Undercroft.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He asked with concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine, well, I will be," you replied, sitting on the floor against one of the pillars. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"Of course, anything," he said, sitting across from you on the floor.

"I want you to help me make Garreth jealous." Sebastian laughed and you frowned. "I'm serious."

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Because I'm mad and hate him," you replied, crossing your arms.

"You don't hate him, you're just hurting right now, which is understandable."

"Sebastian I've been hating myself for days now because of him. It's unfair that I have to feel like this while he's not bothered at all."

Sebastian sighed and frowned.

"I know. I'm sorry. But are you sure you want to do this? What's the point? I think this will help you realize you're better off without him. You should work on moving on instead of getting revenge."

You knew Sebastian meant well, but you were getting frustrated at him being difficult for once. He normally didn't question you on things you wanted, and you didn't know why this time was different. You and him were both very stubborn and couldn't be swayed once you had your mind set on things, and this was one of those things.

"Sebastian, please..."

You blinked quickly at him, trying to give him puppy dog eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you grinned when you finally heard him sigh.

"Alright, if this will make you happy, I'll do it."

"Thank you, Seb."

You knew he would be easy to crack since you've spent a lot of time crying to him recently. He knew how upset you've been and he hated seeing you that way, so he was willing to do anything to make you feel better.

"How are you planning to do this?" He asked.

"There's a Slytherin-Gryffindor party on Saturday after the Quidditch game, regardless of who wins."

"Oh, right, forgot about that."

"I assume Garreth will be there since he never misses a party. Let's just go together and look like we're flirting with each other in front of him."

Sebastian nodded. "Alright. Sounds simple enough."

***

It was Saturday and the match just ended. As usual, Slytherin won. You threw Sebastian a thumbs-up as you skipped over to him. He returned an exhausted smile as he panted, sweat dripping from his hair. He always looked so handsome that way.

"I need a shower," he said once you reached him.

"That's fine, I can wait for you. He would definitely notice us turning up at the same time, anyway."

You waited outside the showers, watching the hippogriffs flying far off in the sky, lost in thought until Sebastian tapped you on the shoulder, all dressed up and ready to go.

He looked really good. He was wearing an all-black outfit. A black button-up shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. The wet hair enhanced the look as well. He looked classy.

"That's a good outfit," You say, eyeing him up and down.

"Thank you. Is it too formal? I don't want to be overdressed," he chuckled shyly.

"Not at all. It's a party, dress however you like."

"Good. I figured if I'm all dressed up it could irritate Garreth even more, assuming he's just going without his robe."

You smirked. "Well, I appreciate you going all out for me, considering you were unsure about all this."

"If I'm helping you then I want to do it to the best of my ability."

You squeezed his arm lovingly as we went down to the dungeons where the party was being held.

Once you arrived and entered the common room, almost instantly you made eye contact with Garreth, and his smile faded as soon as he noticed you standing next to Sebastian. He quickly turned to talk to his friends and pretended he was unbothered.

"Looks like it's working already," You said to Sebastian.

"Good. I'll go get us some drinks. Go find a spot near him."

You nodded and you split up. You slowly made your way towards him, acting aloof as if you weren't putting much thought into where you were wandering. You sat a few feet away from him on the sofa, and he was standing near the fireplace with his friends.

You tried to watch him from the corner of your eye to be discreet. You could see that he noticed you, which was good. You wanted to be in his direct line of sight. Thankfully he didn't move, which you worried that he would.

Sebastian returned with 2 glasses of fire whiskey moments later.

"I'm glad you found somewhere comfortable," he said, sitting beside you on the sofa.

You laughed, loud enough to get Garreth's attention. Sebastian gave you a strange look and began to laugh himself, since what he said wasn't funny at all.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting on the act, of course," You mumbled, squeezing his arm with a bright smile.

You kept your gaze on Sebastian, trying not to be too obvious. Sebastian took a few glances at Garreth, however.

"He looks annoyed," he said.

"That's great."

You grabbed the fire whiskey and took a couple large sips, wanting to get a buzz on so this would be even easier. Sebastian followed suit, taking some sips of his own drink. He winced as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down.

The night went on and you and Sebastian remained planted on the sofa, and Garreth by the fireplace. He kept glaring in your direction every time you laughed or spoke a bit too loud. He was clearly distracted in his conversation.

You both had finished your fire whiskey and you weren't drunk, but you were definitely buzzed at this point. You took some more daring approaches as the buzz grew, such as touching Sebastian's chin and ruffling his hair.

It seemed Sebastian was getting more daring, too, as he placed a hand on your thigh. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, but you quickly brushed it off and took a quick glance over at Garreth, making it look like you just happened to spot him by accident. His face was nearly as red as his hair.

"Alright, Sebastian, he looks mad enough. I think we're go-"

You were cut off by Sebastian planting his lips on yours.

What the fuck?

You lightly pushed him off and stared at him in shock. But all of a sudden, your mind was fuzzy. You nearly forgot why you were at the party with Sebastian in the first place. You didn't even care about wanting to make Garreth jealous anymore.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I don't know what came ov-"

You pulled him in for more, and he instantly melted into you. As soon as Sebastian kissed you the first time, that's all you wanted. His lips on yours. Your intentions were completely derailed, but you didn't care. This was amazing.

After a minute, you pulled away from Sebastian once again. When you looked over to the fireplace, Garreth was gone. He must've stormed off after the kiss.

You looked back at Sebastian, who stared at you with the same look of shock as you'd given him before. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, you grabbed his wrist and led him all the way to the Undercroft in silence.

"Look, I already told you, I'm really sorry," he pleaded as soon as the door shut behind you.

"Are you drunk?" You asked him.

"No. I'm buzzed, but I'm sober. Are you drunk?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"Why did you kiss me?" You asked suddenly.

"I don't know... I was trying to say I didn't know what came over me," he began to pace back and forth.

"I mean -- you didn't need to. He was already fuming just from us touching each other."

"Why are you interrogating me? You kissed me the second time."

You froze. He was right. You didn't even know if Garreth left after the first or second kiss.

"I-- I don't-"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," he mumbled.

"You what?"

"I wanted to."

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not drunk by any means, but maybe the alcohol made me a bit more brave. I wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you for years. Why do you think I always agree to do things for you, do things with you? Because I want every excuse to spend time with you. I was destroyed when you got with Garreth, and I was even more destroyed when I saw how heartbroken he made you. Each time you came and cried to me about how awful you felt, all I wanted to do was hold you, but I couldn't. I couldn't tell you how I felt while you were going through that. You told me how you must be ugly for him to lose interest so suddenly, or how you're not important enough. Truly, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and you are worth the world. I wanted to fucking kill Garreth when I saw how devastated you were. He made a mistake hurting you. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I needed to. Because I love you."

In an instant, your world changed. You remembered so many things at once. It explained why you wanted to kiss him back. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time you would see him. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time he would leave. You remembered the feeling in your stomach when you'd get into an argument and were unsure if he would ever forgive you.

You especially remembered the feeling in your stomach when he got a little too friendly with Nellie Oggspire. You realized that was the reason you even got with Garreth in the first place. You were trying to avoid your feelings for Sebastian. That day you made your first move on Garreth when you had no interest in him before that.

No one else made you feel the way Sebastian did... and for some reason, you tried repressing those feelings. Maybe out of fear that you would lose him? He was the only person who could truly make you laugh, and he was the only person who was willing to listen to everything you were going through.

"Can- can you say something?" Sebastian asked quietly.

"I- I love you, too."

"You do?"

You nodded. "I do. I love you, Sebastian. I always have."

In seconds, Sebastian closed the distance between you both, crashing his lips onto you once again. You instantly felt weak in the knees and you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt to keep yourself from falling over.

You were already attracted to him, but the taste of the fire whiskey on his lips made him even more intoxicating, and you wanted to taste it even more. He seemed to have read your mind as he slipped his tongue into your mouth at the slightest part of your lips.

You moaned into his mouth and he leaned down a bit, placing his hands on the back of your knees. You knew what he wanted you to do and you obliged, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He held onto you and brought you over to a desk you both used to study in the Undercroft.

He propped you up so you were sitting on the desk and he stood between your legs as he began to unbutton your blouse.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked.

The unmistakable throbbing in your core confirmed that you wanted nothing else but this. You nodded.

He continued to unbutton your blouse and gently placed it on the desk beside you once it was removed. He looked at your half-naked torso with a lick of his lips and softly traced his fingers down your arms, giving you goosebumps.

You turned around to give him access to the buttons on your corset, breathing a sigh of relief once it was fully unbuttoned. He slowly removed the corset as well, leaving your upper body fully exposed to him.

"Fucking beautiful, look at you," he growled.

You blushed at his praise.

Sebastian stepped closer to you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasped and arched your back towards him, gripping his hair in your fists. He sucked and licked on your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the next one.

He hadn't even been inside you yet and you couldn't deny that he was pleasuring you much better than Garreth ever had. You were absolutely desperate for him at this point. You spread your legs even further to let him know you were ready.

Sebastian got the memo, as he took his mouth off your breast and began to pull down your skirt. You wiggled your hips so it was easier for him to slide it off.

He stepped forward again to kiss you some more as he pressed his fingers against your clit, still covered by your underwear, but the pressure was enough to cause you to yelp and shake. The sound made him grin against your lips.

"Sensitive..." he whispered.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself upright as he began to rub circles on your clit, relishing in the feeling of the soaking wet fabric, knowing just how ready you were for him.

"How does that feel, honey? Does that feel good?" He asked, with his tone so deep his voice alone could've made you finish. You nodded, unable to form words as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"I'm glad. I want to taste you now, is that alright?"

You whimpered at the thought of his tongue on your pussy, and you craved it. "Yes, please, Seb..."

He smiled at you and began to pull down your underwear, and your clit pulsed in anticipation.

Your underwear joined the rest of your clothes in their spot on the desk, and Sebastian gently pushed your legs further apart, getting a good look at your sweet spot.

"I'm going to make you feel really good. I'll make you forget about Weasley," he said, running his hand down your thigh.

You almost went unconscious at how hot the sight of him getting on his knees in front of you was.

You fell back against the desk as soon as you felt Sebastian's tongue run across your slit. "Oh, fuck," you squeaked.

He chuckled deeply before flicking it once against your clit, and your legs flexed in response. He wrapped his arms around your thighs before going in, rapidly flicking his tongue against your nub, not worrying about how much he began to salivate.

You cried out his name and tugged on his hair, trying to pry him off due to how deep his tongue was pressed onto your clit and how sensitive it already was, but he wouldn't budge. In fact, he went in even more.

It felt so fucking good you practically couldn't breathe, and you couldn't sit up for longer than 5 seconds before falling back onto the desk again.

Sebastian shook his head back and forth like a madman, wanting to taste you like he hadn't eaten in days. You wanted to watch him as he ate you out, but your head was spinning in pure ecstasy. He knew just where to put his tongue, and Garreth was never good at eating you out. Sebastian knew exactly what he was doing.

You felt your orgasm coming already since your clit was so sensitive and needy. Sebastian knew it was coming as you closed your legs around his head, and he dug his fingers deeper into the skin of your thighs. It was over when he closed his lips around your nub and gently pulled on it. Instantly your pussy began to pulsate and you felt your juices spilling out onto the desk.

"Fuck me, Sebastian!" You cried.

Sebastian licked up every last drop of your juices, even tracing his finger on whatever dripped on the desk and sucking that off, too. Seeing his chin shine in the light from your cum was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

You spotted the raging boner in his trousers once he stood up and it made your mouth water. He wanted you so badly, and you him. You cupped his bulge and looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Please," you whine.

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, honey," he said softly, placing a finger to your chin. "This night is all about you. I want to please you tonight."

Fuck. He's perfect.

You bit your lip at him as you nodded in compliance, and that subtle act seemed to send him into a frenzy. He dove forward, biting and sucking at your neck as he ground against you. You reached up and began to unbutton his shirt but you only got the top few unbuttoned when he stopped you.

"No. That takes too long," he growled.

You froze for a moment until he started fumbling with his belt, and you realized he was just so desperate to be inside you that he didn't want to waste time undressing, and it had you throbbing all over again.

He removed his belt and unclasped the button of his trousers, pulling them down just enough along with his underwear for him to be exposed to you. You dripped at the sight of his beautiful cock, fully erect and stunningly girthy. He was going to stretch you out perfectly.

The tip of his penis was dark and shiny. You wanted to lick and suck on it like candy, but he didn't care about the foreplay on him. He just wanted to fuck you senseless, but you knew you'd have plenty of time to suck him off in the future. At this point you wanted him to do anything he wanted to you.

He gave his shaft a few more pumps as he stepped closer to you. Just by looking you could tell he likely wouldn't last long, as he was visibly pulsing and pre-cum was already dripping from the hole.

You hissed as he teased your slit by rubbing himself on it, and he leaned in to give you a soft, tender kiss.

"I love you," he whispered.

Before you even had time to reply, your words were cut off with a long groan as he pushed himself into you. Your vision went blurry as his thick cock stretched you out in all the best ways. You grabbed onto his sleeves so tightly you nearly ripped them.

Sebastian began his slow thrusts in and out of you, and he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to look into your eyes as he entered you as deeply as he could.

His thrusts were slow but aggressive, and you could feel his balls slapping against your skin every time he pushed in. You were somewhat glad he kept his shirt on, as this shirt made him look very broad and manly, and you loved to see him in it as he fucked you.

"You're so warm, you feel so good," he moaned.

He leaned down, pressing his head into your neck and you leaned further back against the desk. His thrusts began to speed up and you clenched your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him as much as you could.

Sebastian wrapped one arm around your back to stabilize you and planted a few more kisses to the crook of your neck. You shivered as he pressed his tongue against your flesh.

He groaned at how tightly your walls pressed around his length from you clenching around his waist. The wetness and warmth sent him over the edge and he knew he wouldn't be able to manage for much longer.

"I'm getting close, my love," he panted.

"Fuck me, Seb. Fill me up," you replied.

He became ravenous at those words, beginning to pound into you so quickly you could've gone numb from the waist down. You cried out as he fucked you senselessly, and he pressed his lips onto your nipple once again.

He licked circles around your nipple, and your body jerked upward as he gently pressed his teeth onto it. He moaned when you made a soft, animalistic grunt in response. Once he pulled away and caught sight of the way your tits bounced from him pounding into you, it was enough for him.

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna- fuck!"

You gasped and shook as you felt him throb inside of you, spilling everything he could into your pussy. The twitching of his cock along with the warmth filling your hole was enough to send you as well, and you wailed as your walls began to clench around him.

You fell back against the desk and he leaned over you. The two of you sat still for a moment, him still inside you, and you both panted until you came back to your senses. He gave you another loving kiss before pulling himself out.

"Oh Merlin," he chuckled. "I think I'll need another shower."

"I might need one, too," you replied.

He began to straighten himself out, rebuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling his trousers back up. Concern spread across his face when he noticed your serious expression.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine. But, am I awful for doing this so quickly?"

Sebastian sighed and came back over to you, cupping your face in his hands.

"You're not. You did nothing wrong, my love. He led you on for months before breaking up with you. He missed out. It's my turn to give you the love that you deserve. You hear me?"

You smiled and nodded at him, and he gave you another peck on the lips.

"I just hope he doesn't give me a hard time," you mumbled.

"He won't. Not anymore," he replied. "Or else he'll have to deal with me."

[daysofbeingnothing]

this is going to be a rant post mainly for me myself and i… but let’s go. i just watched the last episode of jack and joker yesterday and after i finished it i got on twitter to see everyone hating on jack (and basically everywhere else but mainly twitter and tiktok) which was definitely not what i was feeling and expecting. so it made me question, did we really watch the same thing ?

so why is everyone acting like joke was the only one suffering while jack was having the time of his life this episode ? as if jack had lots of other options to choose from but turned them all down for some reason because he enjoys working for the boss and to suffer. jack is not even a high school graduate. and with the only other jobs he could do, it would take him forever to save up the money needed for his grandma’s treatment but he needs the money as fast as possible. so to his own dismay and despair he agrees to do what boss asks him to do. i don’t know if you’ve noticed but like that whole speech about poor people being unable to dream, not having the privilege to have and make choices and being in complete hopelessness because they are only barely able to survive in the realities that they have to live in and cannot break free from all that simply, also included jack too ? like the guy literally was thriving and beaming the last episode and was the happiest he has ever been during the entire show because he thought he was finally free from his debt to boss and thus could go ahead and do what he really wanted to and achieve his dream. all for everything to come crashing down on him even harder than before and for reality to show him the middle finger. last episode he was full of life again and in this episode he couldn’t even picture a future for himself. that thing he said to joke about at least one of them making it out was basically him having already given up on himself and his own salvation. he no longer sees a way out for himself. the drawing he did was not him and grandma, it was definitely joke and grandma. because now his only dream is for the people he loves to be happy. and he has to basically succumb to boss’s every wish, hang around with this rich girl who has been obsessed with him for the past five years and perceives poor people like him as some sort of exotic animal species, has to push the person that he likes away so that he is not in danger and cannot even visit the grandmother that he is trying to keep alive because of how busy he is trying to juggle all these at once. he literally got abused by being choked, witnessed this extremely discomforting game of the underground criminal elite, was so distraught by what he experienced that he was giving bodily reactions, had to go around from place to place tagging along rose like some life size doll, became a shell of a person who is absolutely empty miserable and all alone, and all you are upset about are the words jack used to remove rose’s suspicions so that she doesn’t see joker as a potential rival and the ones he used to 'purposefully’ hurt joke to push him away so that the boss doesn’t harm him ? i mean rose literally got suspicious about jack and joker’s relationship based on a three second interaction like she is kinda obsessed. and boss directly threatened jack and demanded him to break his relationship off with joke. jack is acting in desperation because he is desperate. he is certainly not having a good time. and his situation is a direct showcase of just how difficult it is to escape the vicious cycle that the extremely unjust, unfair and rigged system holds poor and powerless people captives in. every time jack tries to break himself out and like he said, dares to have hope for himself, he just gets pulled back down even deeper. 

and i know that these types of episodes are a nightmare for shippers as when you expect and want your ship to get closer they instead go back to being even further apart and make you feel frustrated. and while i also understand some of the criticism about this episode, i seriously cannot understand the jack hate train at all. like my man has not had a good day since he was probably like ten, give him a break. and what upsets me the most is how this episode literally had one of the best speeches ever written about the struggles of lower class people and it got overshadowed and ignored completely. 

[shapard]

I was wondering if I could request something for Satan x reader? The reader is one of Stolas' best friends, and it's after the trial. She's been distant from Satan for a few days after the trial, then when he's not home, she just packs a suitcase and teleports out of Satan's home. He's obviously pissed and maybe confused.

Needed Me

Satan x Reader

Tw: This somehow turned a bit yonder at the end, Violence, Arguing, Angry Satan

back with a banger Ig!! This was such an amazing Idea thank you for the ask!!!! Enjoy💫

You watched it all unfold live on TV, your pulse pounding in your ears as you clutched your phone so tightly it felt like it might shatter. But oh, how you wished it wasn’t your phone in your grip—how you wished it was the neck of your oh-so-wonderful boyfriend, Satan. No wonder he didn’t want you at the trial. Satan, who usually parades you around like a trophy, basking in your presence as he flexes his power in that twisted, charming way you sometimes find disgustingly endearing.

But not today. Today, his absence of invitation made sense. And when you turned on the trial, the reason struck like a slap to your face. There, in the defendant’s dock, stood not just anyone but Blitzo—your best friend’s crush, their plaything, their goddamned obsession.

The shock left you breathless. Your chest tightened, your heartbeat erratic, as the scene on the screen blurred in and out of focus. And then, there he was—Stolas, trembling under the weight of judgments axe. Your anger toward Satan flared hot, searing your throat as you screamed at the unfairness of it all. He’d deliberately kept you away. Satan. That smug, manipulative bastard.

The trial was moving too fast, the words of the prosecution landing like sledgehammers. A death penalty. For crimes so heinous they barely sounded real. But the worst part? Some of the charges were fabricated—lies woven to condemn him. And Satan, your darling, devious boyfriend, didn’t even want to hear this Blitzo out.

The way Stolas’s powers and possessions were mercilessly torn from him—every ounce of his status, his dignity, ripped away. Even his daughter, stolen from him for a century, banished to a fate he couldn’t prevent. And all of this, simply because he dared to protect that imp, Blitzo.

How could he? How could he do this, knowing what Stolas meant to you? Yes, Stolas had made mistakes—terrible ones—but he was still your friend, your best friend. The memory of Satan’s silence in the face of these accusations only stoked your fury. And when Stolas’s powers were stripped from him, leaving him vulnerable and broken, you knew he needed you more than ever.

But the screen went black. And with it, your resolve turned cold and hard. The overwhelming tide of emotions—anger, betrayal, despair—threatened to consume you, and you needed an outlet. The kitchen called, its promise of mindless distraction your only escape as you awaited the return of your beloved Satan.

Your hands shook as you reached for something, anything, to dull the edge of your fury. But deep down, you knew nothing would temper the storm inside until you confronted him. Until you demanded answers. Until you made him feel the full force of your rage.

Hours passed before you heard the heavy creak of the kitchen door opening. There he was—your so-called man, Satan—walking in with that smug, self-assured grin plastered on his face. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, his arms reaching out for your waist in an attempt to pull you close. But you sidestepped him, leaving his hands to grasp at empty air.

He blinked, momentarily thrown off, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Bae?” he asked, confusion and amusement mingling in his tone. He tried again, stepping closer, but you dodged once more, the deliberate rejection unmistakable.

“C’mon, babe,” he sighed, frustration beginning to creep into his voice. “It’s been an exhausting day. Don’t play games with me right now.” His third attempt met the same cold evasion.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked, his voice soft but with an undeniable edge of irritation.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” you growled, your voice sharp enough to cut glass. You turned toward the door, heading for the exit, but Satan was hot on your heels.

“No, I don’t,” he snapped, his patience slipping. “Just tell me!”

You spun around, your fury igniting like a wildfire. “I saw it, Satan,” you hissed, the venom in your tone palpable.

His smirk faltered, replaced by a wince as you used his formal name. “What…?” His eyes widened as realization dawned. “Oh,” he muttered, raising his hands defensively. “Honey, listen, I apologize, but I had to—”

“You had to?” you snarled, your eyes blazing as you stepped closer. “You had to believe the lies that stupid Elsa Goita spewed? Embarrassing, Satan! Absolutely pathetic. And you—” your voice cracked, “you know damn well what Stolas means to me!”

Satan’s own frustration boiled over, and his voice dropped into a dangerous growl. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know what he means to you? I spared him, Y/n. I gave him the hundred-year sentence instead of eternal banishment, and you want to stand there and act like I did nothing? I could’ve stripped him of his title permanently. But I didn’t—because of you!”

You let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. And all because some snow demon lied to your face. You fell for it, Satan. He made you his puppet, and you danced for him. How could you be so blind?”

In a flash, Satan was in front of you, his towering presence suffocating. His eyes burned like embers, and the heat of his breath on your skin made you tremble. “Crime is crime, Y/n,” he roared, his voice low but seething with barely restrained rage. “I can’t ignore the law just because you’re friends with him! Stop being so naive!”

The air felt charged, your chest heaving as you searched for the right words. Then you asked the question you’d been dreading. “What if it were me in that dock, Satan? Would you have spared me?”

His silence was deafening. A long, drawn-out pause stretched between you, his eyes darting away for just a second too long. But that second was enough.

“Wow,” you whispered, a hollow laugh escaping as you tried to choke back the tears threatening to spill. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Y/n—” he began, his tone softening, but you held up a hand to stop him, your glare freezing him in place.

Without another word, you stormed out of the room, retreating to one of the guest quarters and slamming the door behind you.

Satan let out a long, weary sigh, running a clawed hand down his face. “She’ll be fine in the morning,” he muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

________

The next day crept in like a weight pressing on your chest. Satan was already in the dining hall, tapping impatient claws against the table as the minutes dragged into hours. Two hours, to be exact. His patience, already thin, was unraveling.

The moment he saw your maid enter the hall, his booming voice echoed off the marble walls. “You there!”

The maid flinched, nearly dropping the tray in her hands. “Y-Yes, my Lord?”

“Where’s Y/n?” he demanded, his tone sharp enough to slice through her nervous stammering.

“She’s in the guest room,” the maid whispered, her wide eyes avoiding his glare.

Satan raised an eyebrow. “Not hungry?” His voice softened with concern, though it only made the maid shrink further.

“She ate in the guest room, my Lord,” she replied quickly.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his concern quickly morphing into irritation. So, you were still ignoring him—for this?He stomped through the halls, his heavy footsteps rattling the air as he made his way to your temporary sanctuary.

Once at the door, he rapped against it with a force that made the wood groan. “Darling…” he called, his tone strained but still tender. No response. He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Sweetheart, open the door, or I’ll open it myself. Your choice.”

Moments later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. But before he could get a word in, you brushed past him like he didn’t exist. His clawed hand shot out to stop you, but you were already gone, disappearing down the hall without so much as a glance.

He exhaled sharply, stepping into the room you’d occupied. Chaos greeted him—furniture askew, items scattered across the floor. His eyes lingered on the mess, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. A buzzing in his pocket snapped him out of his thoughts.

His phone. Missed calls. Emails. His assistant’s increasingly frantic messages demanding his presence at yet another meeting with the sins. Satan growled low in his throat, biting his lip as he turned to leave. The faster this is over, the faster I can deal with her.

The halls felt eerily quiet in his absence. That silence wrapped around you like a suffocating fog, amplifying the pounding in your chest. You knew this was your chance—your only chance.

Heart racing, you bolted toward the shared room. Every step felt heavier than the last, but you didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate. Throwing open the door, you grabbed whatever you could carry—clothes, essentials, a few personal trinkets—and stuffed them into a bag. No second thoughts. No looking back.

By the time you reached the edge of the property, the weight of your decision began to settle in your chest, a dull ache mixing with the adrenaline. You crossed into the land of Lust, as far away from Wrath as you could manage on short notice.

Your phone was the next to go. You replaced it, changed your number, severing any remaining ties. It was drastic, maybe even reckless, but you couldn’t stay. Not after everything. You needed time, space, and maybe—just maybe—Satan needed to feel what it was like to lose you.

Your heart felt like it might break under the strain of your thoughts as you clutched a wad of cash in your hand. Booking a room in a cheap lover’s hotel—the only thing you could afford right now—felt like the lowest point you’d reached in a long time.

The room was exactly what you expected: dim lighting, peeling wallpaper, and walls so thin that the symphony of moans from the adjacent rooms was practically deafening. You cranked up the volume on your headphones, hoping to drown it all out, and collapsed onto the creaky bed.

Opening your bag, your eyes fell on a small photo tucked into a book—a picture of you and Stolas, both smiling in happier times. A pang of guilt and longing hit you hard. You couldn’t help but wonder: How is he holding up? Does he even have anyone left?

With a heavy sigh, you lay back, staring at the stained ceiling. The fight with Satan replayed in your mind on an endless loop, each word cutting deeper than the last. You’d meant it when you felt that you needed time, but the pain lingered. The betrayal, the disappointment, the silence that followed your question—it all lingered.

Your chest felt like it might burst under the weight of it all. For now, you just needed to close your eyes, to escape the noise—both external and internal. As your thoughts swirled into chaos, you pulled the thin, scratchy blanket over yourself, clinging to the faint hope that sleep might bring some semblance of peace.

________

Satan was furious—no, enraged. The kind of rage that seared through flesh and soul, unstoppable and all-consuming. Fire erupted from his mouth with every ragged breath, the inferno dancing across the room like a living beast. Flames licked at the walls, the ceiling, and the trembling bodies of the unlucky staff who couldn’t escape in time.

The first scream pierced the air, shrill and agonized, as the fire engulfed a maid near the door. Her skin bubbled and blistered, blackening as her body crumpled to the floor, flames hungrily devouring her. Another worker tried to flee, but Satan’s inferno had no mercy. It roared after them, swallowing their desperate cries. The acrid stench of burning flesh and hair filled the air, thick and choking.

Satan didn’t care. Not about the bodies collapsing in heaps of charred remains. Not about the assistant who had loyally served you, now writhing on the floor, their screams fading into a gurgling silence as the fire reduced them to ash.

None of it mattered.

You were gone.

He stood amidst the destruction, the heat of his own flames doing nothing to quench the ice-cold fury that burned inside him. His eyes, glowing embers of hatred, fixated on the empty space where your belongings once were. Your bag, your clothes, even the faint scent of you—gone. You hadn’t even left a note.

Everything around him was ablaze, but it wasn’t enough. His rage was volcanic, a molten tide that threatened to destroy everything in its path. The entire estate felt the wrath of their lord, the heat so intense it cracked stone and melted glass. Even those miles away felt the earth tremble beneath their feet and the blistering air that made it hard to breathe.

His claws dug into the scorched remains of your shared bedpost, splintering the wood to pieces as his chest heaved with fury. “You think you can leave me,” he growled, his voice low and guttural, reverberating like a death knell. “You think you can just walk away.”

The flames roared louder, echoing his rage, as he let out a guttural, primal scream that shook the very foundation of the halls. Sparks flew, embers rained down, and the air itself seemed to tremble under his fury.

Finally, he exhaled, his breath hot and toxic, like the hiss of a volcano before it erupts again. His glowing eyes narrowed, and a dark, predatory smile crept across his lips.

“I’ll find you,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr that promised nothing but destruction. “And when I do, I’ll bring you back. Even if I have to burn down every last thing you hold dear.”

The thought of you trembling, of your lips murmuring apologies, of your body back in his grasp—it was enough to temper his rage, to transform his fury into something far darker. A hunger. A need.

As the last of the staff’s screams faded into silence and the fire crackled softly in the aftermath of the carnage, Satan stood in the center of the devastation. His sharp claws dragged lazily across the stone wall, leaving scorch marks in their wake, as he imagined your face when you realized the mistake you’d made.

“Run all you like,” he murmured, his deep voice curling through the smoky air like a lover’s caress. “But you’ll come back to me. You’ll beg to come back to me.”

The room was still ablaze, but his smile—dark, wicked, and full of promise—was hotter than any fire.

And somewhere, miles away, as you tossed and turned in a restless sleep, a chill ran down your spine.

This is Intense, Idk how Y/n will survive this at this point.

💫

[jxsterr]

ghhghgb pre calamity zelink but zelda grows a quiet rebellious streak after her father forbids her from engaging with sheikah technology and link volunteers as her ‘grew up as a regular village boy so of course he’s a terrible influence’ sidekick so they sneak around and do all sorts of things kids their age do because they yearn to feel at least a little bit normal despite all the pressure on their shoulders. also because i’m still hung up on why the hell his royal cap was in her room

i’m a slowburn truther but hear me out

i’m talking about link soothing an upset and understandably frustrated zelda as she rants about how unfair being forbidden to engage in something she enjoys by suggesting they simply just sneak out and enjoy it anyway. by telling her that he knows the patrolling routines well enough from being around the other guards so often that he can evade them. that he’d take the brunt of it if they were ever caught and watches how stars burst in her eyes at the prospect. he tells her that if rhoam is willing to void her of any sort of hobbies, any kind of relief from the stresses of her duty that they will simply make it themselves

so they learn to sneak around. he takes her out late at night to marvel and prod at the inactive guardians, jotting down notes and making sketches of the mechanisms as he keeps watch for her. she sneaks into the guards quarters to see him whenever she’s been too caught up in prayers and duties for him to be around. he sneaks into her bedroom to sprawl out on her bed while she dishes the castle gossip idly or drags him into her study and miserably details her struggles at growing a silent princess herself. they essentially become each other’s source of respite

but you know what i eat up the most?? them having the thought that. damn. they’ll never get to experience what a lot of kids their age get to because of their positions and responsibilities. they’ll never get to experience proper physical affection from another person, or steal wine from the kitchens and deal with the consequences of being a little too overzealous with it, or even experience what it’s like to be kissed. they’re just two kids desperate to feel normal just for a little while

so they’re like fuck it. the world could genuinely end tomorrow so why not start ticking off the list. they’re two people stuck in a shitty situation against their own volition who’ve grown close because of it and trust each other with their lives. why not help each other live a little

so they do it. they let tentative fingers tangle themselves whenever they dare stand near, cuddle on zelda’s bed after a long day until they fall asleep by accident and have to figure out a gameplan to get him the hell out without being suspicious about it, steal a bottle of wine to take turns drinking from on the battlement between her room and her study and cough at how damn strong it is because they didn’t realise you had to sip it, and exchange lingering kisses behind the safety of her bedroom door because why not. they lose even when they’re playing good, so why not take a little bit of control of their lives and do something for them when the calamity could appear at literally any point. they may as well live every day like their last when there’s so much to lose and nothing to gain.

it doesn’t even matter if they catch feelings from any of it anyway because they can figure it out if they even get past ganon. nothing is for certain when her cursed powers refuse to answer her so what the hell does it matter. so what if it starts with kisses that only occur occasionally when they’ve stolen wine again and their hearts can’t seem to stay off their sleeves for long enough to realise just how close zelda is sat next to him. so what if they use it once while completely sober to reassure the other in a last ditch attempt to calm them down and it just kinda sticks. so what if it becomes a game of how many they can sneak in small fleeting moments where every second counts and they only just about avoid getting caught. it’s a little bit of fun and goddess knows they need something good for once

they’ll figure out what all of this means after everything—and that’s if there’s still anything to come back to

[lamemaster]

Subject of Faith

Pairing: Sauron x Human reader

Summary: It was not the cockiness of omnipotence, but a longing that lined your words. And Sauron knew that longing, for Ainur and Men shared it.

"Would you rather put all your faith in someone you can't see?"

"Like the music can't be seen and fragrance can't be held, faith is not a matter of seeing, it is subject to believing." Your answer frustrated Sauron.

A mere human dare talk back to him? A guard of the king of Numenor. A lowly guard whose entire life would be blink of an eye from Sauron.

Yet, Sauron could not stop speaking. Every passing second he poked at every aspect of your existence to find a weak spot. Anything that would quench his curiosity about you.

A distant part of his conscious warned him to restrain. To not reveal his plan and to play the part of a gullible repentant. He truly tried but failed.

You were nothing. A poor human who stood outside his cell for hours. A monotonous and taxing job. But no matter how hard Sauron tried he failed to find a crack.

"Don't you desire for an immortal life, likes of which is given to the elves?" He questioned you, settling back into the now familiar game of unravelling your mind. "How nice would it be to not leave your dear ones, to be with them forever and to not suffer the pain of old age."

You do not turn to face him. Your back does not relax at his honeyed words but you do answer him. You always do. You treat him with the fairness of any other being. Answering his questions while continuing your job. "Maybe it would be easy to accept the bliss of immortality and wish for a life I have never lived. However, how unfair would it be to dishonor a gift given by my creator. How can I a mere mortal know of his plans for me? I can only submit to the one who has given me the chance to see this world and hope for another mercy or another miracle to be revealed." Your voice rings loud in the desolate prison. "Furthermore, I really look forward to seeing my grandparents in whatever fate awaits me," the slight joy in your voice stuns Sauron.

It is not the cockiness of omnipotence but a longing that lines your words. And Sauron knows of that longing. Ainur and Men share it. A lingering remembrance of their true home. Elves, whose fate remains tied to Arda know little of it. A constant tug to overturn the world looking for that one place that promises some relief from the constant restlessness.

The same restlessness grows in Sauron's heart. After eons he finds himself thinking of not Utumno or Valinor but the Timeless Halls where he first came to be.

He resented you for doing that to him. He had heard imploring words of silver-tongued elven lords and forgiving speeches of the Valar who resided beyond seas, but none had bugged him like the simple words of the human who stood guarding him.

And so, the chained Maia rested his head on the cold unrelenting wall behind him. "I hope to see you the day you die. When death will look you in the eyes, I hope you manage to remain as sure as your sound right now."

Months later when Tar Mairon, the closest advisor of the king, finds himself in the same prison. His hands dipped in the warmth of your blood.

You lay on the cold ground that had once been the spot from where you answered his questions with your back facing him. In the past, he rarely saw your face but now as he looks at the peaceful look on your face he knows it to be you.

There is indeed no bitterness or fear in your death. It is acceptance that greets Sauron. Even in death you stay true to your words. Sauron marvels at the stubborn human who refuses to bow to him in life and death.

One day...one day he promises, you will meet again. That day he might force you to kneel or he might end up joining you. That day was too far but it would come after trials that awaited him.

In a twisted fate, he hopes in some salvation you await him. And when he finds you, he hopes to hear your voice and ask you questions that you reply to without a fail.

He will find you when he can't offer you the hoax of immortality or feed you falsehood of greed. You don't need that. You won't accept that.

So, Sauron awaits for his song's end. Maybe his end will guide him to you or some peaceful oblivion.

[ronearoundblindly]

Sneak Peek!

a Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader excerpt

Summary: Steve reaches his breaking point when you return to the field after severe injuries.

Warnings for a touch of the spice and a vicious/hot argument. WC ~550 *This work is not in final edits yet. All mistakes are my own.

“You’re not my superior officer, and if you think for one second I did anything wrong out there, go ahead and report me. From where I’m standing, I did the work, got cleared for duty, helped out the team, and stopped you from being shot in the head.”

“Fine," Steve shouts, arms crossed over his chest, "but quit acting like a selfish coward.”

“A what?”

“You heard me.”

“If you’re gonna throw a hissy fit every time I get a scratch—“

“THREE BULLETS IS NOT A SCRATCH.” He tries—he visibly, painfully tries—to keep his cool one last time. “You weren’t ready,” he concludes, judge, jury, and executioner all poured into one star-spangled package.

“Say’s who?” You’re stepping closer, getting in his face because this is bullshit and unfair. “Last time I checked, you’re not a doctor, and you should be thanking me for saving your ass—“

“It’s not your job to save me.”

“We have the same job, Steve! We are both perfectly capable of—“

“I know that,” he barks.

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to think I can’t handle myself." You push weakly at his chest like it's a game. "Maybe you need to walk it off, buddy.”

Oh shit. You’ve done it now.

“Walk it off?! WALK IT OFF?!”

Steve charges like a bull seeing red, crowding you against the far wall, a derisive finger pointed at your heart.

“You were injured. You didn’t make contact. You went dark for days, and you could have died. Alone. Out there. Who knows how long it would have taken us to find you. No—“ he cups your chin in a tight pinch “—you want to talk about a job? It’s protocol to check in. It’s common courtesy to let me know you’re alive, and it’s goddamn rude to ignore your own safety.”

There’s a deep line of frustration carved between his brows. His nostrils flair as he waits, daring you to refute him.

“Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Excuse me?”

Steve lets go of you, smacked away by your cutting tone.

“Oh, whatever, Rogers,” you taunt, rolling your eyes. “Play martyr all you want, but we both know you don’t have the authority to bench me.”

“Like hell I don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and throwing your arms above your head. He weaves your hands through the cargo net behind you. The loops are tight and complicated in seconds, he’s so fast.

You can’t wriggle away.

Steve roughly throws the zipper of your uniform down, letting the jacket hang open to show nothing but your sports bra.

“Let’s see how you like feeling paralyzed—“ he dexterously undoes your belt “—exposed—“ your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles “—and afraid.”

His last word thickens the air on the jet. 

How can this man launch you into unbridled lust in the space of two syllables? Who. Fucking. Cares. How.

Steve’s fingertips teasingly glide over the swell of your breasts, brush down your belly, and tick their way in a casual walk between your legs.

“Maybe I should leave you wondering how it’ll all play out, leave you wondering if I’ll ever touch you again, wondering if…”

“Yes,” you breathe.

a/n: Tentatively planning to have this done to post on Sunday since the original was a 'Sweet Sunday' ask. Per usual, don't quote me on that, but I got a huge chunk done today which was likely the hardest part. Thank you to all those who sent messages of support! I won't let you down 🫡

[Main Masterlist; Old Dog, New Tricks; Ko-Fi]

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[pixies-and-poets]

In which I dare to rant about Paper Mario

So there's this discourse going around twitter right now about Paper Mario being an AU and Paper Mario not being the "real" Mario and if ANY of the PM games happened in "the real Mario world" or have parallels, do the characters exist outside of the Paper World, etc etc

And all I can think is like, damn, how unfortunate is it that Intelligent Systems deciding to use a charming and timeless art style back on the N64 led to this. The idea to use 2D sprites on 3D backgrounds to create a storybook feel eventually spiraled into the series' ENTIRE IDENTITY. Gameplay does not unite the whole Paper Mario series, depth of story does not, shared characters do not, only the art style and the idea of 2D vs 3D.

And it's a shame because the first PM was a lovely fairy tale that clearly followed in the footsteps of SMRPG as an extrapolation of what the Mushroom Kingdom could be, and how Mario's world works. It was also my first Mario RPG and had tremendous influence on me. Friendly Koopas and Goombas, the Star Spirits, wishes. It was called Mario Story in Japan and the paper aspect mattered nothing to the actual narrative. And then TTYD got a little cheekier with the paper abilities (with them being a fourth-wall-wobbling joke tacked on to what was clearly supposed to still be a Mario Story). And then SPM, much as I love it, bases its entire hook around 2D/3D in a way that's hard to reconcile with Mario's "normal" existence. And by Sticker Star they just said screw it, reboot it, everyone is 100% aware they are made of paper and that's like the series' whole deal now. And it has stayed there ever since.

For the last three games, you can say maybe there's a "real" Bobby out there or a "real" Captain T. Ode but it's impossible for their plots to take place in a world divorced from the craft universe unless we substitute in a lot of body horror and viscera (and even then, what of the Things? Etc). And that's ok for these games, they work within their own context and can be fun for what they are. But it's now got people thinking the first three games fold into this same AU. And you can blame Paper Jam for this but the PM series did it to itself. PJ just clearly spelled out the dual reality that Sticker Star and its follow-ups obviously necessitated. And now the whole series has retroactively been wrapped up into this Paper Universe.

Look, I know "Mario lore" doesn't actually matter, and most RPG characters never show up again even in their own series, and as long as you enjoy each game in a vacuum that's what matters. But it's frustrating that we've reached a point where PM characters have to be the odd ones out who may or may not "actually exist" or have actually met the "real Mario". Mallow is definitely real, Cackletta is definitely real but Chuck Quizmo- WHOA SLAM THE BRAKES, IDK ABOUT THAT ONE CHIEF. Thankfully most people don't give a shit about this drudgery and it won't stop people from drawing Vivian and Geno interacting, because it's just fun and good.

But my point is, I don't think the people working on the first PM (and TTYD) really could have foreseen the series evolving into what it is today, and it's unfair to wipe out their lovely narratives and relegate them to some kind of side universe not worthy of The Real Super Mario(tm) [especially because, taken in sum total of characters and vignettes, TTYD is the greatest Mario narrative there has ever been IMO]. SPM, so strange in both its style and its entire concept, is in some kind of weird limbo where I don't even really care what people think of it anymore, just let me enjoy my game that makes me cry every time in peace lmao

I can't think of another example of a series where an arbitrary stylistic gimmick (not a gameplay or story gimmick but a STYLISTIC gimmick) consumes it and becomes its entire thematic identity. Can you? It's Flanderization on the scale of a franchise, not just a character. Closest is perhaps the Yoshi series, where Yoshi's Island had a childlike crayon look to stand out on the SNES and fit the theme of Baby Mario, which got expanded to Yoshi's Story being a storybook and now we have craft themed Yoshi games. But it's still not entirely the same thing because the gameplay has remained somewhat consistent, if getting rather easier.

Anyway peace and love I just want Johnny Jones and Cortez to hang out

[amodernpersephone]

ヒロインとアイドル (Heroine and Idol) English Translation

by Suzumi Hiyori (Honeyworks feat. かぴ)

Listen to the song here!

IMPORTANT NOTES: This is so weirdly written that it's actually hard to translate without various interpretations. I chose the less personal approach, because I perceive the song as Hiyori's honest criticism on the idol industry. If you don't like that, shoo or something, idc. The song is stupidly catchy though, I love it. Not a 1:1 TL, EN and JP aren't my second language, etc etc.

byoudou datte kiita no ni!

It was supposed to be fair game!

sumu sekai ga chigau geinoujin ganmen hensachi kurabe hekomu higoro kara egao wo furimaite riaru ka? feiku ka? damasaresou

Celebrities who live in a whole other world Taken at face value, no one can compare Charming them all with a smile everyday Is it real? Is it fake? It feels like a deception (sweat)

koi nante tabun dame darou ni sono kuse feromon tobashiten jan joshi no minna chikazukan de! kansen sasende yo acchi ike

Falling in love is probably not allowed Still, your addictive pheromones* you send them flying everywhere To every girl out there, stay as far as you can! Make sure not to catch the infection Get away from me!

zurui yo! zurui! zurusugiru!! horetemo sekinin torenai jan yabai yo! yabai! yabasugiru!! azatosa sunawachi "aidoru ryoku" shikatanai kedo... mitomezaru wo emasen ne

This can't be! That's cheating! It's dishonest and unfair!! You don't take responsibility for their feelings for you!! Too much! It's dangerous! So risky and insane!! Cunning is the "power of idols" Still, I can't help it... I need to accept this is how it is.

ochikondari mo suru geinoujin nakami wa futsuu no ningen kamo watashi ni wa suruu wo kimekomu no riaru ka? feiku ka? kore wa gachime

Celebrities who are sometimes depressed They're probably just a normal person inside Though I go unnoticed and ignored Is it real? Is it fake? This is getting serious (sweat)

watashi no sonzai mobu darou ni tama ni yasashii no sukoshi kyoufu wakattetemo terechau no zettai karakatteru acchi ike

To them, I'm just another one in the mob Sometimes, their kindness can be a little scary I know this, still, it's so embarrassing They're clearly such a tease! Get away from me!

sekoi yo! sekoi! sekosugiru!! sekinin toru ki mo nai kuse ni! tsuyoi yo! tsuyoi! tsuyosugiru!! keisan? sunawachi "aidoru ryoku" maji kuyashii kedo... minna to issho tokimeku jan///

That's sly! So petty! It's cheap and crafty!! You won't even take responsibility! So powerful! Too potent! It's fierce and strong!! Calculating...? is the "power of idols" It's so frustrating but... I'm just as excited as everyone else///

dare demo dekiru koto janai shi zettai doryoku shinai to da shi erabare shi ningen nan desho!? a"aaaaaa

This isn't something just anyone can do You need to put in the effort and hardwork You must be the chosen one!?** A~aaaaaaa

zurui yo! zurui! zurusugiru!! horetemo sekinin torenai jan yabai yo! yabai! yabasugiru!! azatosa sunawachi "aidoru ryoku" shikatanai kedo... mitomezaru wo emasen ne

This can't be! That's cheating! It's dishonest and unfair!! You don't take responsibility for their feelings for you! Too much! It's dangerous! So risky and insane!! Cunning is the "power of idols" Still, it can't be helped... I need to accept this is how it is.

* Don't ask me. She says pheromones right there.

** She's saying they're special lol

[utilitycaster]

Is it just me or are some of the more intense Imaudna folk…kind of mirroring Imogen’s over-defensiveness of Liliana? Or at least uncritically accepting Imogen’s assessment of her, without acknowledging her “bias”? (as we are now apparently calling the characters’ family - so K-pop of us)

I’m not saying she’s a terrible mother - she’s literary moving heaven and earth for Imogen [and herself] - but she’s helping bring about what could be an apocalyptic event, on the off-chance that it could relieve them of their powers.

And I get why people wanna ignore that in favor of Imogen reuniting with her Mom and building a relationship with her. But it’s frustrating when you remember that some of the people her Mom has fucked over include Kiki and the Ashari (not just Orym) and that she’s working with a guy that allowed Trent’s abuse of Caleb, who Beau has spent years working to take down, and we still don’t know what’s happened to those two.

Again - shades of gray, and we all love villains and complicated, messy women. But it’s quite the slice of cognitive dissonance to see fandom *really* pile on Fearne’s parents for abandoning her (especially when it was only six years as far as they knew), but even after she’s party to nearly murdering Kiki, we shouldn’t be assuming the worst of Liliana?

(Just read this back and…I don’t think some these Imaudna fans are actually Marisha fans)

I don't think it's mirroring Imogen, per se. Or rather, I think this is all part of the larger trend I've touched upon for some time: there are a segment of shippers with absolutely no empathy for or generosity towards anything that interferes with the ship. Ideally, they'd like to also support Imogen and Laudna as individuals; but even then the ship comes before the characters. As you said, they're not really Marisha - or Laudna - or for that matter Imogen or Laura fans. They're fans of them playing characters who are in a relationship together.

When Imogen was upset with Laudna for breaking the gnarlrock, there was a pretty prevalent attitude of "but it wasn't LAUDNA's fault, so why is Imogen upset, that's unfair" even though the rock is still broken and it happened when it was in Laudna's possession and, frankly, had Imogen not given the rock to Laudna, she'd still have it. In retrospect this has gotten even more wild, because since then, they've leaned very far into the negative effects Imogen experiences as a result of her powers as an argument as to why she's allowed to do whatever she wants, but at the time if you pointed out Imogen found relief from the rock and is justified in having an emotional response, you were met with screams of HOW DARE YOU BE MEAN TO LAUDNA. This hypocrisy is of course tied into the lack of empathy, because said lack of empathy rests on granting infinite grace to those who support or even merely recognize the ship, no matter their other actions (eg: Otohan), and dismissing the feelings of anyone else.

When Laudna died, it was a pretty common attitude among Imogen and Laudna shippers (I would say Laudna fans, but quite honestly almost every post grieving her was just as much about the ship as the character) that Orym would have been happy to have remained dead because he was a widower. This is a horrifying mentality to have - people's partners do die young, and most people choose to continue living - and was also notably untrue based on Liam's statements both in and out of game. You'll notice that "Orym doesn't want to die and felt like this was a massive failure" on 4SD never took off, but "Orym can't be objective" on 4SD has been blown to ludicrous proportions that show a stunning lack of understanding of like...basic human emotions and their role in decision-making. Because there's no consistency except The Ship.

When the party went to Whitestone, and Percy was in fact played as someone with very complicated and layered feelings about death and dying, and who was not going to change his developed principles for a stranger, he was lambasted. The fact that Delilah Briarwood is just as responsible for his trauma - repeatedly so, she was the architect of both his family's murder and the reason why Vecna achieved godhood, she's literally why his brother-in-law is dead, the Briarwoods have been responsible for two of Vex's deaths - was completely ignored. The fact that Vex and Pike were not spiting him in the end, but rather developed a mutually acceptable plan that permitted Laudna's resurrection with a contingency plan to kill her if Delilah returned led to some pretty harsh criticism of them as well.

FCG was pretty popular among the shippers for quite some time because he wanted everyone to get along and wanted Imogen and Laudna to make up after the gnarlrock fight (note: this is also true of Ashton and Orym, both of whom as discussed have since fallen from grace because they continued to exist as characters with their own thoughts and motivation) and had a lot in common with Imogen. However, a series of things occurred that led to their fall from grace among the shippers. The first was that FCG's coin is why Orym was resurrected instead of Laudna. The second is that Shared Dream was not, in fact, intended only to let Laudna go into Imogen's dreams, but rather allowed anyone in the party to go. The third is that FCG started to find a purpose beyond "help others no matter what," particularly after realizing they had a soul and were in fact a person, and specifically began exploring religion. Religion is unpopular with Imodna shippers particularly after 3x49 and Imogen's consideration of the Vanguard, but there's also definitely a mix of obvious ex-fundamentalists who never unpacked their feelings and instead just want all their fiction to validate their new beliefs. The fourth is that FCG/FRIDA "stole" the first canon relationship spot (which also confirmed that FCG was, in fact, shippable rather than some kind of robot eunuch with nothing better to do than push Imogen and Laudna together). And so you get some really fucked statements. Like, when I say I've seen "I hope someone makes that robot eat their stupid coin" that's not exaggeration; it's pretty much verbatim. That's not a post that a person who makes any attempt to understand experiences other than their own can make in earnest, but it does make sense from the perspective of someone who has decided Imogen and Laudna's relationship is the heart of the show and is angered that five other main PCs exist and have their own interests.

Ashton occupies a truly fascinating space, in that they're oddly popular, in part because their scenes with Laudna are genuinely unmissably fantastic scenes for Laudna. It's one of the only places where Laudna takes off the mask (though she's started to with Orym too). He also overlaps with a lot of what makes Imogen popular, except it's canon where Imogen's is subtext, or it's obviously more severe (Imogen's mom left? Ashton's an orphan. Imogen's had a few headaches? Ashton has chronic pain). So they hated when he pointed out he'd been abandoned by his friends in a way Laudna hadn't (also because Ashton and Laudna's conversation in 3x49 was just far more honest than Imogen and Laudna's, and because Laudna sought them out), but they like him when he's supportive of Laudna. They're constantly on the thinnest of ice because of this and because they're a genuinely compelling character, but because of that, might get in the way of what said shippers want, namely, a hundred episodes of Imogen and Laudna sipping tea at Zhudanna's and having a lovely time.

Following Imogen considering joining the Vanguard, Orym fell out of vogue despite his previous interactions with Imogen, because he very justifiably pointed out, as I've said, that the Ruby Vanguard killed his husband and his father-in-law (whom he saw as a father figure himself), and used a toxin that ensured they couldn't be brought back. I've talked about this a ton and so I'm not going to rehash every aspect, but the fact remains that while I like Imogen's choice to do this - conflict is fun! It makes sense for her character! - it's an incredibly insensitive thing to say. (It blows Ashton's statement about loneliness out of the water, for sure; incidentally, Ashton pointing out the more general hey girl they murder everyone who disagrees did NOT sit well with the hey let's harass everyone who disagrees crowd.) And when you mix it in with the god stuff discussed regarding FCG, Orym has become the periannath non grata of choice to the point of a similar response to the gnarlrock fight - if you sympathize with him, they see it as an attack not just on Imogen but on Laudna, for...not talking about Laudna as well. This has only gotten worse with Orym firmly committing to destroying the Vanguard, to the point that there are, generously speaking, misunderstandings or misrememberings of the text, and less generously speaking, outright lies. A notable one is that Laudna begins to tap into Delilah before Orym nods (Marisha's mention of the purplish hue is at 2:52:02 in episode 3x63; Orym's nod is at 3:01:42, a solid 9+ minutes later); he supports her decision, but he is not responsible for it.

Then there's the guests. Deanna was obviously made to ask Imogen about Laudna. She's here to ask them if they're married. She's here to encourage Imogen to follow her heart. She's definitely not here to have her own active and interesting love life and personal feelings about the gods (that conflict with Imogen's) and history and perspective. Oh she's...she's calling out Imogen's nonstop use of psychic powers? She's having a three-way with Chetney and Fearne? FRIDA is hooking up with FCG and admitted their anger about the gods was mostly due to projecting their personal anger about feeling powerless and having been awoken without their consent? Uhhhhhh Deni$e was obviously made to to ask Laudna about Imogen. She's definitely not here to be a connection to Dariax and have her own active and interesting love life and personal feelings about the gods. Wait, no, maybe Bor'Dor will ask about it? Uhhhhhh *flips coin but not in an FCG way* Laudna will *rolls dice* mentor Prism and this will...make this ship happen? Oh, won't these people with their own distinct personalities and motivations who keep having conversations with Orym and Ashton and each other stop doing that and just presume that a specific one of the four other people in Bells Hells they've never met and probably don't remember the names of is married to Laudna? Won't someone stop playing their character as a fully fleshed out person whose life is entirely unaffected by Laudna and Imogen's respective love lives? Oh and then Bor'Dor did ask about the relationship, and it was because it was a weakness and he was trying to infiltrate.

Quite literally? It goes as far as the gods! Why didn't they save Laudna? To which I'd say sure, let's explore what happens if they did! Let's follow this thread! Do they just save Laudna and maybe her family and no one else? Why Laudna? Does she get saved at the expense of some other dark-haired girl in Whitestone? Or perhaps they save everyone. Perhaps the De Rolos remain in power, and Campaign 1 doesn't fucking happen I guess, and Laudna grows up, and she lives out the rest of her life in Whitestone, and she's a woman in her 50s now - maybe even married, perhaps with children - and has never been to Marquet and wouldn't know or care about some random 20-something with purple hair. Like, what are you driving at here? Maybe the gods let Laudna die because that was the only way to bring her to Imogen. Ever think of that? (alternately: how do you know they didn't? What if Laudna's undead state has to do with Vecna? You didn't specify if it was the Primes or the Betrayers, or how she gets saved; she's still living after a hanging, which some might consider a miraculous gift. What if it was the Dawnfather acting through the Sun Tree? Can you describe what you want the gods to have done and where that puts us in 843 PD or do you just say shit hoping no one will ever poke at it?) When do the gods intervene? Do they make sure nothing bad ever happens to anyone? Are mortals just dolls the gods move around with no free will?

So anyway. I don't think these feelings about Liliana are based on mirroring Imogen's thought process. I do not think there is a level of consideration that Imogen and Laudna have motivations (motivations mean they can be something other than perfect flawless victims who found each other). It is simply "Imogen wants this, Laudna will validate anything she does, and so it's correct." The party line for anything else "fuck your trauma, fuck your dead family and dead loves, fuck your own hopes and dreams and goals: you exist only to fawn over two random-ass women. It doesn't matter if they are strangers to you. It doesn't matter if you've only met one of them. It doesn't matter how they act towards you. It doesn't matter if you're one of them, if you step out of line. This is your sole purpose, and if you fail, you're not a person to me." There's absolutely no thought put into the implications of anything they say beyond "it supports the ship, or, if not, it perpetuates the blameless, perfect and thus boring frozen state of the characters."

[some-star-trek-stories]

Why Not Me?

Lore was back, the Android who nearly destroyed the Enterprise was back in it...due to me. I wanted to fix him, to try to help him. He's been under my wing for the last week and he was restrained to my quarters only due to Picards suspicion.

Lore was watching your movements as you taught him how to play a game. Amazement was in his golden eyes."Wow," he mumbled. "Is this what humans like to waste time on?" Lore turned to look at me, his eyes filled with curiosity rather than the usual disgust.

"Not always Lore, I showed Data this and he liked it...thought you wouldn't."

Lore turned to you seemingly hurt. "Who said I didn't."

"You're not like Data, you have...moods."

Lore scoffed.

"Don't tell me, I'm too "perfect"." He put quotes around perfect.

You sighed tired of Lore complaining about being so perfect but he never ever told you the story. You turned to him with a stern look.

"Are you going to tell me the story or will you keep me guessing?"

Lore didn't reply for a moment before replying.

"When Dr Soong created me everyone ran with fear because I was so perfect...too perfect," his expression was filled with sadness, i felt bad for him.

He went on. "I could solve equations that would take the colonist years to figure out and I had emotion. I was perfect, the definition of it!" He began to get angry but it changed between the two

"...they were scared they demanded I leave and they sometimes...try to destroy me via water. Luckily it never effected me, Dr Soong than restarted and made Data...and they said Data was perfect. Data...perfect..." Lore suddenly stood up the chair making the chair fall  back and hit the floor creating a loud sound due to the metal chair making everyone turn to look at us. Oh he was pissed.

"That...robot was more perfect than me because he didn't have emotion!" Lore yelled pointing at the entrance of the room.

Lore after that statement put his hands down.

"They had the audacity to throw water on me! What was wrong with me! I had emotion so what?! I was too perfect!" Lore grew more frustrated.

"On top of that you even compliment him! "Oh Data, you're so sweet and kind" Lore mocked your voice. Even though you never directly said it you knew you've said something along those lines.

"You call him human but never me!" Lore was just mad now.

"He will never be human! I'm your best shot, can't you tell?!" Lore approached you and you tensed.

"That pathetic Android with no emotion will never love you, he cant even understand you the way I do!" This took me by surpise.

I had a giant crush on Data and even I couldn't explain it, I guess it was because he was so perfect but even without emotion he was sweet, kind, caring even without emotion.

I was flustered my cheeks burned like a candle with embarrassment.

Lore went closer to me still complaining about how unfair it all was. "You need to understand between duty and love, and with Data it's nothing but Duty to him."

Lore got down to my level where I still sat, he was on his knees his voice dropping to a whisper for me to hear only. "But with me, it could be love not duty. I wouldn’t put anything between us, not duty not emotion. We could be great together."

That was the only thing he said before his solid hands were holding my cheeks in place as he kissed me aggressively, passionate but nothing about it was sweet.  I truly didn't know what to do, I wanted to hold him for some reason to kiss him back.

My hands stayed where they were not even daring to grab at him or push him away...thinking about it now I wouldn't have pushed him away and it still confuses me, I mean Lore was Datas his evil twin who set the giant crystal entity on everyone out of anger and bitter...so why did I enjoy the kiss so much?

When we separated I was breathless. Lore stared deeply in my eyes, the only thing I saw in his were anger and bitterness and I guess you could say a hint of sadness.

"You're pathetic for even trying to love him!" Lore hissed before getting up and walking around the table to leave but he stopped to look at me.

"I do like that game." Lore then turned to leave after the remark.

[roxannarambles]

teal mask fixit-fic on the fly part 4

(Current story so far: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3)

The festival had been great fun so far, once you'd all managed to ditch Carmine. It was like any good festival should be; lots of bad fried food; lots of games that were rigged against the player but were cheap enough to try again and again and eventually earn silly prizes; and plenty of opportunity to just generally horse around and not worry about classes or other, weightier matters in life, at least for the evening. Arven was absolutely affronted by the fair food, clamining it to be a culinary crime, so you and Nemona made a point of buying the greasiest and worst snacks and treats so you could to eat them in front of him. Penny had worked out how they'd rigged one of the games--a basketball toss that Arven was annoyed he couldn't win-- and helped him win the next round. (Turns out the ball was intentionally over-inflated and the hoop was higher than regulation). Even Kieran seemed to eventually warm up to everyone and enjoy himself, showing you all one of his favorites of the festival, an informal contest that festival-goers had acting out the heoric feats of the Loyal Three while wearing their masks. After all that messing about, you all just wandered for a bit, enjoying the atmosphere and all the costumes.

Then Carmine caught up to the group again.

She was pretty annoyed, claiming you'd all ditched her; Kieran was quick to tell her that you'd all simply lost her in the crowds, and everyone backed him up on that point. She seemed unconvinced but dropped it, in favor of issuing a challenge to the Paldean students: She claimed none could beat her score at some game called Ogre Ousting and dared one of you to try.

It didn't surprise you at all that Nemona's eyes took on a competitive gleam and she stepped up to the plate to defend Naranja's honor.

"Sure, I'll give it a go!"

Carmine laughed in her face, saying,

"You? Oh, perfect. This should be fun to watch."

There was a heavy tone of sarcasm underlying her words, but Nemona just smiled at her, saying,

"Thanks! So, what are the rules?"

You listened as Carmine explained the game to her in as condescending a way as possible. It was starting to really grind your gears. This girl being snotty to you, you could handle that, but watching her treating Nemona that way was too much. When they'd finished talking and everyone started to walk to the seating that was meant for people observing the games, you reached out and grabbed Nemona's arm.

"Hold on a sec."

She looked at you curiously. You pulled a pokeball from your pocket and handed it to her.

"Here. Why don't you use Koraidon? Give that girl a taste of Paldean pride. I bet they've never had to contend with a pokemon like this before with their little berry game, would be fun to see their reactions."

Nemona's eyes widened a little, but then she shook her head, handing you the ball back.

"No, Koraidon is way faster than any Stantler. I don't want to have any unfair advantages!"

You frowned.

"I heard her explain the rules. Players are allowed to use any ride pokemon they want. It's not cheating."

"I know it's not cheating. But it still wouldn't be very sporting of me."

You sighed, frustrated. You adored Nemona's purehearted respect for competition, but for once it was making things difficult.

"Nemona, that girl isn't as nice as she seems. She was totally disrespecting you and, and . . . she doesn't deserve to be treated that nice, she deserves to be taken down a peg! Plus, she already has an unfair advantage over you. She's played this silly game her whole life, she knows it way better then you do."

Nemona smiled at you softly.

"I know. Thank you for looking out for me, Jules. But I did get the idea she doesn't like me all that much. I'm getting a lot better at noticing that kinda stuff. And I know she already has an advantage over me. But you don't have to worry. Win or lose, I'm gonna do my best and I'll make Paldea proud!"

You gazed at Nemona a moment, her eyes bright and determined.

Then you smiled and let out a sigh.

". . . okay, okay. You know I have complete faith in you, I know you'll do amazing regardless."

Nemona grinned.

"Damn right I will."

You laughed and the two of you went to join the others.

However, once Nemona was set up with the rental Stantler, she realized Carmine wasn't getting ready for the game.

"No, no, I'm not playing. I'm just watching. You have to beat my record, remember? I've already set the record." Carmine told her. Nemona considered that a moment.

"Well, that's boring!" she said.

"Why don't we make it a little more exciting for our friends to watch? We should both play the game at the same time. You have to defend your title right here, right now. Sound good?"

Carmine glared at her, protesting,

"That isn't fair! I shouldn't have to meet my record again, that's not how records work!"

Nemona cast her a curious look.

"You don't want to? I think it could be fun. Or are you worried you can't beat me?"

You smirked as Carmine's face flushed in anger and she growled,

"I could beat some clueless Paldean bug-catcher any time, day or night, with my hands tied behind my back!"

Nemona beamed at her.

"Great! So we're on?"

"Oh we're ON all right. Get your Stantler, I'll set up the second course."

It didn't take too long for them to prepare, and soon both girls were atop their Stantlers, in their respective positions, ready to roll. You and the others were seated in the bleachers, watching expectantly.

The referee called,

"On your marks . . . get set . . . GO!"

The two players were off like rockets, blasting through rows and rows of balloons.

"You can do it, Carmine!" Kieran called out tentatively to his sister.

"KICK HER ASS, NEMONA!" you shouted through cupped hands, startling Kieran. He seemed to think a moment and then stammered,

"Oh, I-I'm-- I'm sorry, I'm rooting for Carmine, but you know, I still like you all too, I just, um . . ."

You laughed and reassured him,

"It's fine. I don't mind, I get it."

"I'm rooting for Carmine too," Arven told Kieran. You shot Arven a glare.

"What? Kieran can but I can't?"

"Carmine's his sister, that just makes him a good brother. You however are being a traitor."

Arven huffed an annoyed noise.

"I am completely impartial," Penny declared, leaning back in her seat. Arven said,

"That just means you don't want to tick anyone off."

"Yeah? And how is that bad?"

"Shhhh, quiet guys, they're coming by to drop the berries off!"

Both girls had returned to the tables to drop off the berries they already had, their buckets laden heavy with the fruits. Then they were off again to gather more. You all spent the time trying to count the berries and estimate who was in the lead, as well as argue over tactics of blasting through the balloons and protecting the tables from Skwovets. The time limit was rapidly drawing to a close, and both girls seemed to be progressing at a very even pace. It was honestly imposible to tell who had the lead.

When the game was called, you all rushed down to the field to watch the referee tally the berry totals. It would come down to the final counts. Nemona stood there, stained in berry juice and beaming, looking tired but proud. You gave her a hug, not minding the berry juice and gushing,

"You did awesome, Nemona! It was your first time but you were running that course like you'd done it dozens of times already!"

She laughed,

"Thanks, Jules. It was really fun! A real adrenaline rush."

When you began to pull away from the hug, she paused to whisper to you,

"Y'wanna know my secret?"

You nodded eagerly. She murmured,

"While they were setting the second course up, I mighta spent the extra time wandering the course and studying it a bit. Thought it wouldn't hurt to be a bit prepared." She winked.

You gave her a proud smile.

"That's mi tesoro, always usin' her head."

"Y-you looked great out there, Carmine. I think you might have even beaten your old record," Kieran told his sister. She didn't acknowledge him, instead just standing there with a tense expression, watching like a hawk as the referee counted the berries one by one.

"He's right, you looked really in the zone out there, I was impressed!" Nemona told her sincerely. Carmine waved a hand and hissed,

"Quiet, I'm counting!"

Everyone fell into an awkward sort of silence as Carmine watched the referee finish tallying the berries. When he'd finally got through them all, he announced in a loud voice;

"Aaaaaand the winner of the Ogre Ousting for tonight . . . at a whopping 20,000 berries . . . isssss . . . ."

The dramatic pause apparently went on for too long, as Carmine snapped,

"Gah! Just tell us already!"

The man gestured to both girls.

"It's a dead tie! You both win!"

"WHAT?! That can't be right! Count it again!"

"I already counted it three times," the man said sternly,

"I take my job very seriously."

"Ugh, this is-- this is ridiculous," Carmine spat, clearly disgusted. Carefully, Nemona said,

"Don't feel bad, Carmine. I mean, we both won, you don't have to feel bad--"

Carmine snapped,

"We didn't both win! Two people winning means nobody won! We still have no clue who's better!"

Nemona frowned.

"Well, we know we're both really amazing at it? I think a tie is kinda neat--"

"Wait, I've got it!" Carmine interrupted, pulling some pokeballs from her fanny pack.

"If we can't settle this with Ogre Ousting, we'll just settle this with a pokemon battle!"

She looked at Nemona expectantly, full of confidance and defiance, as if incredibly pleased with her idea and eager to see Nemona's response.

Nemona was quiet a moment, and then a smile settled onto her pretty features. It was not one of her usual smiles; it was something much more subtle, something almost dangerous.

"A pokemon battle, huh?"

Nemona tossed you a glance and you could hardly hold back your grin and bite back your words, but decided it would be more fun to keep quiet. Nemona's eyes sparkled with mirth. Carmine glanced between you and Nemona, looking faintly confused. Nemona answered her lightly,

"I guess I could try it out! Promise you won't go easy on me, though. I don't wanna feel like I'm getting an undeserved victory or anything."

Carmine snorted.

"I can definitely promise you I won't go easy."

"Good."

You looked to Arven and Penny, smirking. Arven said hesitantly,

"Carmine, you miiiight wanna reconsi--"

"Hush, Arven, let them fight," you say to him mildly, putting a hand on his mouth to silence him. He swatted you away.

"Yeah, this could be fun to watch," Penny said, grinning.

Penny was right, the battle was incredibly fun to watch, but not in the way Carmine had been hoping.

[redemptioninterlude]

there's only alice, staring back, with that smile that slips into sudden solemness. empty, empty! blue eyes chilling! reiji wants a monster to play with because he couldn't dare STOMACH THE ONE that he has become! in the image of the father, the mother! what he paints is the picture, perfect, terror. and even alice can feel that her patience wears thin and glass brittle, but what does a vampire care for that in girls they're meant to break? "you really think you're that complicated, don't you?" the seriousness of it breaks, she's laughing with her smile behind a palm, her body curling warm at the center of her. "plans are plans are plans. plans aren't doing. and reiji, little master, don't you think you've treated yourself terribly unfair? unkind? overlooked, overdrawn! the one made to suffer the yolk of responsibility~ when, oh when, did you ever last dare to allow yourself to unshoulder that burden? or are you trying to chase after your father still? like a little boy... all these years, and you still measure yourself by the weight of how he looks at you." another giggle, mad, alice! "just kidding! gosh~ could you imagine?"

tongue clicking, something burns awful within her smile. beaming, just for him. "i like you, you know." a step closer, in shiny heels that click and clap against marble floors. this place like a mausoleum, echoing and wide, empty, of all things, especially care. but it doesn't have to be... gaze flickering upwards, lips curving so dangerous. "keeper, not keeper. WHO CARES FOR TITLES when you play the role, dutifully well? look at all the secrets you've kept, the violence you've committed, and all for them, for this, a name that means nothing, for a man that's treated you like you're worthless." words twist, a cruel knife within them as she steps closer, closer, a circling beast. her arms draping, casually adoring around him, because even if he were to push and throw her off, she knows she's prickled at something and dug beneath his skin, clawing, retching. playing at an unfair game with which he had hardly come equipped for, but reiji, she thinks, if far more clever than the lot, a master at all things but himself. so undisciplined... messy... she loves to see it. those gloves of his crunching with that perceptible frustration, an anxious note within a deadened body that thrills her so! oh reiji. reiji. arms holding him closer. "would you keep me instead?"

what a little flirt! but she wants that too, digging out the false promise of his righteousness, when really he hungers all the same, a beast shackled within the body of a man, playing pretend for... what? the idea of refinement? that he does GO MAD like the others do in that other family, how he defines it all by one's ability to exercise restraint, when he's really none within him. her smile there until she unwinds herself to sit, civil, within her seat, that she'll carefully eat, step by step, with impeccable manners put to the test in such a way that even he could find nothing to pick, pull, and tear into. pressing into the bruise shaped like a brother on his heart, one of so many, and he is the one who finds it the hardest to pull from shu. sleepy, worthless, isn't that how he sees him? not really. not in the heart, where alice sees the clearest, her smile a twisty thing.

he talks of his mother like it were nothing, like she doesn't see the scars on the three she's born. deduced some of the vile, twisted things she's done to her sons, and how she twists this all into a competition with whom there are no winners, no easy way through this. "so then. what does that mean. you only see your value in how you look? what a BORING ANSWER! i'm sure you don't really think that way, even if that shrew of a woman did." how he makes a move! his hand to fold over her own, knowing what he wants to say ; that she'd come for him if she hadn't been made to die first, a terrible deed done between the children that that woman had so gleefully abused. something tight moves within her throat that he'd see - her fingers opening, carding through his grasp. "... well. i suppose that i'm terribly glad that someone pushed her down and tore out her heart."

maybe it's the time she looks truly troubled. a terrible thought that shades her expression, turning her head for a moment because of how UNBECOMING it feels. closer, closer, he pulls her closer. making her look, because she knows it's right, and she doesn't turn away from it, because she's wanted to know, hasn't she? the rotting center of this house, of their terrible emotions that wreck them all. "are you going to tell me then? the things they all hide, that you hide too? who killed who, what betrayals have ruined things between you all? and perhaps what it is that the young master here wants for himself. you never say it, do you. what is it? after all this time, all these years, what does your wretched heart desire, reiji?"

- @dangaer

' the fact that you believe that you have gotten me figured out, none of that means you’ll get further than you are. ' ——— that is what he had warned her, all those nights ago, cruel in his tone yet already aware of the way he had already proven otherwise; something, someone like him an innate warning against something as gentle and pristine as the understanding of a human ( a fact that he had considered not to bother him, really; everything with a pulse will no undoubtedly come to meet their end despite it all ) yet still ... he finds himself daring to have faith, speculatively, as their meetings progress in whatever length of time it has been, that this one girl could be absolutely different, that alice will change more than just his bitter dreams, the diversionist towards his fathers prearranged signal. a bigoted idea, maybe, placing alice upon such a high pedestal, demanding the near-impossible from simply a human being all the less, channelling a deity from the face of a girl —— he will be the only one who will be punished if this all turns out incorrect, the iron on his tongue to remind him that mortals can only be mortals, no salvation / no damnation, and the risk of there being no answer on the edge of her tongue ( ' but had you not liked that best? the glory of receiving love despite the fingers you pressed down against her neck, your greatest weapon against her rabbit-hearted pulse ' he would, he does, he will; even if men like him were never taught how to earn it in turn. )

❛  i wonder. if anything, i suppose it wouldn't be too incorrect in calling it an 'idea'. that is, as they say, how often the best laid plans are made ... ❜ though, undoubtedly, he finds a great pleasure in discussing it like this —— with terse eyes and falsely timid lips, skidding across shattered glass he's deliberately begun to break, scatter between his feet, and oh, still, he's still feigning control over such a conversation, isn't he? ——— how did she get so close despite it? why does it feel as though it's his heart on a platter above every other short change story he begs to share? ——— and the responce is hidden, sudden: 'because you've never been the one in the spotlight, no matter how hard you've tried to be' for he has always been the spare, the faceless expression in a crowded city, the money behind a hired knife; refuted stares, confused expressions, he feels their rejection rather often; a jealous, reproachful man, destroying everything that midas' will touch with a sparkle in his eye and the taste of blood against his lips. ❛  before we begin, there is only one thing i wish to make clear. i am not my brothers keeper, nor do i ever wish to be. as long as what they achieve does not sully my plans, it really is none of my business. ❜

he watches her shifting figure, slender fingers cutting straight through the food resting upon his plate in a practiced sort of manner; such a cold statement, cruel, dismissive, and there was once a time that even he might have worried about it coming off as such, embarrassed to say such a thing about the one he hung out with the most, pushing to make it come across as rather friendly, but he no longer wishes to waste his time on those who won't in turn —— besides, that would be considered the sakamaki's worst kept secret, that reiji would care for shu, his worthless mess of a brother, that he keeps him for much more than simple obligation to his fathers well wishes in the long run. there is no need to fix what he hasn't broken, what shu destroyed; to even think about it would be pointless and he's certain even alice would know it.

❛  cordelia understood as well as anyone, there was no need to consider myself a threat my older brother was around. she found no problem in reminding me that, the constant times she would interrupt my studying in order to find suitable help for her heir. she fancied herself too important to associate with the likes of me ——— until i took on the features of karlheinz, that is. ❜ there's something pompous in the way he chooses to speak; she was wrong, he wishes to imply, just how could one get things so wrong? looks, looks, looks ... he can feel the way she stares back at him now, hot and burning in her wish to understand, quick to envelope her open hand with his own but unless alice suggests otherwise. ❛  —— ignorance is bliss, in this case. she was found dead before she ever seemed to have the chance. ❜ he's still the most well spoken when it comes to the taboo, expressive in experiences all two familial apart from his own; the final penance of a boy who once felt all but abandoned from the rest of this world.

❛  her sons experienced the brunt of it, but shu simply was just bullied for being beatrix' son in turn. he had a violin once, gifted to him by our father, and cordelia rushed to break it. of course, i was the sight of my brothers resentment ... but who would believe the younger brother, in that aspect? i had all but sworn my hatred for him the night before. ❜ nostalgia and disgust intertwined, contradicting tone uttered with every suggestion; his smile is twisted, arm shifting to pull her even closer. ❛  i'm sure you've heard it all from them, haven't you? opening the secrets of cordelia would be opening the secrets of us all. beatrix is far too intertwined with that woman's fate, so maybe she truly was the root of all evil. ❜ / @redemptioninterlude (cont'd for beta editing purposes!)

[finelinevogue]

for a love island blurb, let’s now see a jealous Harry 🤭

anon: pleasee i need jealous love island harry I NEEEED also im loving the series

how about a conversation between them about the luca kiss hm??

“Y/N can I talk to you?” Harry asked.

You nodded nervously whilst being surrounded by the other girls at the kitchen counter. People were snacking on crisps, whilst you were stood there with your water trying to forget about what had happened this evening.

Harry walked to the round sun bed that was tucked away under a palm tree. It was difficult to face him, knowing that another man had kissed you but you couldn’t help but just feel guilty.

He climbed onto the bed and you had to crawl, considering your heels would’ve punctured a hole in the sofa material.

Harry laid back against the cushions and out one of his hand behind his head, whilst the other stretched out to the side of him. His body language looked closed off and you weren’t sure whether this could be the end of you both. You felt so vulnerable, but you didn’t know whether you’d make it worse with your words.

Once you were sat next to him, sitting up and legs bent into your chest, you started to cry.

Your hands covered your mouth as tiny sobs tried to escape. It felt unfair to be crying, but that’s just how emotional you were and the thought of how bad you must’ve let Harry feel was making you mind spin crazy.

“Hey, woah, woah. What’s with the tears? Hey, c’mere you.” Harry spoke softly, with a tone of concern, before stretching out his arm to the side and pulling you into him.

You curled into his side and kept your knees to your chest, whilst your hands remained covering your face. The tears kept falling whilst Harry’s arms wrapped around your body and rubbed your skin gently.

“I-I’m s-sorry.” You sobbed, your heart physically hurting in your chest.

“What for, hmm?” He said softly, keeping his mouth close to your face so that the moment didn’t feel too exposed.

“Kissing Luca. God I cant believe I did this.” You remained crying, not having the confidence to see him. “I’m sorry H.”

Harry held you for a few more moments, letting you have your cry. He, of course, wanted to console you immediately but he needed you to calm down first. You were his main priority and getting you to regain a good breathe came above anything else.

“Can I see y’pretty face now?” Harry spoke softly, helping with how calm you were now becoming.

Your breathe had returned to normal and your tears had stopped. Luckily for you the mascara you were wearing was waterproof, so it didn’t damage your makeup too bad. It was even luckier for you that your makeup was light, because, as Harry likes to say, you are too “naturally pretty” to cover up your face with makeup.

“S-sorry.” You hiccuped, sitting up from laying on him. He kept you close with his hands still on your body, but he allowed you to sit up so he could talk directly to you.

“First off, stop apologising to me. I don’t need an apology from you, okay lovie? You haven’t done anything wrong— no, Y/N, stop. Look at me. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Bu-but the kiss—”

“Was in a game! It was a game of dares, Y/N/N. That’s it. Nothing more. Sure, i’m pissed at Luca for putting you in an uncomfortable position and making you upset, but that doesn’t mean i’m angry or frustrated with you. I just like you too much to see another guy kissing you.”

You nodded your head, fully understanding. “That’s what I felt like with you and Gemma.”

“Well then I guess we’re both jealous saps for each other, hey?” Harry said and it made you chuckle.

“Mhm.”

“Now c’mere. I want a cuddle.”