#like I'm sorry but psychologically it fucking says a lot

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[light-wrath-paradise]

*potently insane* I should re-read Monster by Naoki Urasawa

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[morganbritton132]

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

[kitysugar]

the lamb and the wolf ~ dom! vampire! jake x sub! reader ౨ৎ .⋆。⊹ ♡

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ Sim Jaeyun, the popular yet somehow nerdy 21 year old at your shared university. All the girls swooned over him, claiming that he's the most perfect human being to have ever walked this earth. You, on the contrary, felt something off about him, had your suspicions about the blonde haired boy that started to rule your every thought, and he could sense such. of course he did! He was the one crawling into your brain and picking apart your skull in order to rearrange the puzzle pieces to fit perfectly isync with his. He was absolutely crazy about how you didn't pay him any lustful eye or tried too hard to come onto him, that was until he started yearning for you, every part of you in so many more ways than one. You were just as mysterious to him as he was to you, and it drove both of you mad. And he just had to do something about it before his precious little muse genuinely did go insane.

Word count: 14,000

Vampire! Dom! Jake x Sub! Reader. Bondage, blood kink, overstimulation, biting, scratching, slight cnc (reader likes it dw), slight manhandling, praise, degradation, fingering, slight hunter/prey dynamic, slight breath play, slight corruption

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

This is more of a short story than a one shot and the reader has similar characteristics to me so it's a little bit of an oc. sorry. it's kind of a slow burn but oh well. Reposts and comments are appreciated thank you! ♡ - phoebe

"Sim Jaeyun and f/n l/n" the professor calls out. you look over your shoulder the same time Jake looks down towards you from the top of the room, your eyes fixated on each others for just a split second before you break eye contact just as fast as it appeared, turning towards your best friend who sits directly next to you. The psychology professor was arranging groups of people for an upcoming project. you look at your best friend, your lips sucked between your teeth as she giggles.

"don't laugh please." you say to in a groan. she shakes her head, her giggling dying down as she speaks

"he's really not that bad, I hear he's actually decently nice and charming. all that talk about being a fuck boy are all rumors from what I hear" you cock an eyebrow up at her words, a look of 'oh really' written across your face

"and how would you know that" you say when you go to grab your book bag and sling it over your shoulder, not yet standing up to move

"one of my friends is a friend of his, so I've hung out with him from time to time and he doesn't at all act like what people talk about. I might just be talking out of my ass but you know" she shrugs her shoulders before continuing

"I guess it's just his looks that everybody fawns over. You can't even deny how attractive he is" she speaks and grabs her bag, standing up to move to her group, leaving you to follow her actions and face the blonde haired man. you look at him and you really can't deny it, he is unbelievably attractive. his face chiseled perfectly, his hair framing his face in a way that extenuates his features. he looks at you, a smile appearing on his lips this time, inviting you over.

You return his smile out of fondness. You're not really the type to fall for looks, you want something genuine. Real feelings and love, so you've never had the opportunity to actually fall in love because a lot of people in this generation tend to follow down the path of hook-up culture that really wasn't designed for your heart.

I guess you could say you want an old type love, one where men weren't ashamed to talk about their feelings for a woman.

You walk over to your group of four people, the empty seat with your name written all over it sat directly next to the blonde. you take your seat and get out your MacBook, opening up your notes before resting your elbows on the table below you, your chin in your palms as you look over your group, your eyes finding jakes figure once more as his do you.

"I'm y/n, by the way" you say to your group and begin talking about the subject of your shared presentation due in three months. its a really big project that consists of the need for various statistics involving a psychological study. When you begin suggesting topics, jakes eyes pour into your movements when you speak, finding it quite cute how much you enjoy talking about your major. he inturrupts you, his voice cherry sweet as his tone cuts into you, your eyes finding his

"you know an awful lot about psychological studies and tests ran in the past, how do you know so much?" he asks genuinely. you smile at him because he seems to take actual interest in your knowledge, you begin to ramble, talking his ear off about how much you enjoy learning how the human mind works and why it works the way it does. the other group members listen to you as well, but not as intentely as Jake does.

"psychology is my major, ever since I was little I was fascinated about the way people operate and the explanation as to why they do the things they do, I guess its kind of like an extreme interest of mine that I decided to make into my life goal to study" you end your ramble, a small tint of red coating your cheeks once you realize you've been talking for over fifteen minutes. Jake's smile never falters at your voice

"you just answered my second question. you're quite an interesting one, y/n" the way he worded his sentence sticks with you, he's talking as if he was born at a different time because you have never, ever heard anyone talk the way he does. you shake your head and the rest of the period goes by in a flash, your group figuring out what to make your presentation on, finishing up on it being the root of different phobias and how they affect different people. its quite simple, but there is a lot of different types that you would like to go over.

"hey guys, I think we should exchange numbers so we can all get together outside of class to do this project" one of your group members says, you nodding your head and getting your phone out of your bag. Jake takes your phone before anybody else could, handing you his in return.

"here, its easier like this than having everybody read out their numbers" Jake says to you, typing his number into your phone. you nod your head in agreement and add your contact information into his device before the two of you switch. you take note of what he named his contact as while he exchanges his phone with someone else.

everyones phone gets passed around and you notice that he named himself "Jake" in your phone while "sim jaehyun" was his name in everybody elses. you take note with a small smile before you wipe it off of your face.

"I'll see you later" he says to the group, but only looking at you as he speaks, exiting the room shortly after, leaving you to tilt your head in agreement. The rest of your group pools out of the room as do you not long after.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

A buzz on your phone causes you to stop doing what you're doing, setting down your lipgloss on your vanity before picking it up to check the message.

It's from Jake, and he's asking if you would like to come study with him at a nearby cafe.

You nearly fall out of your chair when you realize you weren't hallucinating, quickly messaging him back a "sure", trying not to get too excited when you get dressed after deciding on a cafe and heading out the door. its not a long walk from your apartment, giving your legs a good stretch after spending hours in your bed studying other subjects for classes your enrolled in. you enter the cafe, your eyes automatically finding Jakes lean figure. he lifts his head up from his computer, sensing your presence enter the building as he waves you over. he stands up so you could scoot into the booth next to him, deciding it was better to see each others screens than have to turn them around every five seconds.

his toothy grin makes you smile as he looks at you, recropricating his fondness. the two of you get to talking about the beginning of your lecture project, and the more that he talks, the more you begin to realize how much he knows about experiments conducted in the past, his knowledge crystal clear and unbelievably accurate. you look at him in wonder, not understanding how he knows so much about things that have happened so long ago.

"how do you know all this stuff?" you ask him, cutting his sentence short as you look up at him. his glasses frame his face so well, and you can see why every girl wont shut up about him. he really is breathtaking.

he brings his bottom lip inbetween his teeth to stop himself from laughing at your question, the most heartwarming smile on his face. he pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and you take note of his eye color; dark brown.

"psychology is my major too, y/n. I also love learning about how the human brain works" the way he says 'human' makes your stomach churn, but you pay it no mind.

"you're really smart for someone who's only 21" you laugh at him. just as he's about to say something, a waiter with your drink comes over and goes to hand it to you. Without thinking, you lean over Jake, one of your breasts presses up against his arm gently and your hair gets in his face; he doesn't move. he doesn't want to move. you smell good.

so fucking good as you get closer to him. everything moves in slow motion in jakes mind as you're oblivious to the thoughts coursing through his skull. his eyes start to become heavy as time begins to catch up to speed. you thank the waiter and lean back on your seat, your body peeling away from his. a distasteful look clouds his face as he wants to grab you and pull you to press up against him again, but he controls himself.

you take a sip of your drink with a hum before looking at the man next to you, freezing at the look on his pale face.

"Jake, are you okay?" your voice rings through out his head and suddenly he's snapped out of his thoughts as he turns to you, his eyes still heavy.

"yes, yeah im okay" he says, trying to push a reassuring smile out to comfort you. you dont look away, concern laced in your tone

"are you sure? you dont look so good" you say, leaning closer to him. your hand raises before you can event think. the back of your hand comes in contact with his forehead and much to your surprise, he doesn't have a fever, its actually quite the opposite.

he's cold. almost freezing. you gasp and furrow your eyebrows. Jake takes note and quickly grabs your wrist in your hand, gently so he doesn't hurt you, and brings it down.

"I'm okay y/n, really" his smile is genuine this time. he's never had someone worry about him so easily before and he's never had someone talk to him about their interests, let alone his. ever.

your lips part as a small, shallow breath leaves your throat, your cheeks warming up. you take notice in the fact that his hand the same tempature as his forehead. you stare at each other before you feel jakes thumb gently caressing the skin on your wrist, breaking you out of your trance. you lift your wrist away from his hold, but not before your fingers lace around his in a small squeeze, deciding to do something slightly risky.

you pick up the glass and take another sip. you almost choke when you hear Jake laughing from above you, loud and clear. you set the glass down and look up at him, your lips in a full pout as you cross your arms.

"dont tell me you're one of those matcha haters." you tighten your lips and glare at his laughing. he shakes his head and begins to calm before speaking to you through giggles

"matcha tastes like grass y/n, how could you like that stuff" you huff at his sentence, kicking his foot under the table before turning away from him, his eyes being met with your back.

"oh y/n, dont ignore me, im only expressing my opinion. you can't be mad at meee" his hands move before he can process what he's doing, his fingers find your waist and tickle you.

your body spins around as a loud shriek forces its way out of your throat, a loud laugh following in pursuit. you shake in his hold, your palms desperately trying to smack his hands away as laughter fills the whole building.

"okay okay im not mad let me go" he stops tickling you, but his hands dont leave your waist, and you don't even realize it. he can feel your warmth under his fingertips and the blood coursing through your veins, your body and soul very much prominent and alive. it fills Jake with so many emotions.

"what do you like to drink then, mr. picky" he almost answers your question honestly, but he bites his tongue.

"something much sweeter than matcha" his tone darkens playfully and it makes you slightly lightheaded. You can now feel his hands on you, his fingers tightening around your figure, but you don't say anything about it, and you can't understand why.

Jake comes to his senses when you squirm under his hands ever so slightly. your body's pulse as well as your flowing blood being felt under his hands becomes quickly overstimulating, making him clench his jaw. he lets you go before muttering a quick

"I'll text you later" before speed walking out of the cafe, leaving you lightheaded and almost breathless. you walk home in confusion after spending the last few hours of your day with Jake studying and talking. you hear a distant scream a few blocks away, but that's normal in a city like this, so you push it to the back of your head once you enter your apartment for the night.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

"y/n..." a dark voice sings you name. you turn around in what appears to be an empty, dark space with no walls and the ground around you is filled with shallow water that leaves your bare feel cold.

"y/n" the voice echos, louder this time. your heart begins to pound in your chest, but you can't get your feet to move for the life of you. your breathing is heavy and it feels like you're about to be snatched up. you look around, no light, sound, or anything can be seen or heard in the weird universe you find yourself in.

That's until you turn your body around, finally getting your feet to move

That's when you see it: a figure with a blurred face stands a ways away from you, but you can almost see it clearly, carrying something

no, somebody.

Your freaked out breathing increases, but you stand your ground. you squint your eyes, making out the small drops of a red liquid stained the clothes its wearing, you can tell now its a man carrying a woman in a short white nightgown stained in the same red liquid that matches the color of his clothes, similar to your own night gown you sleep in every night. the mans face is blurry, but you can still see the red that stains his chin and neck, your eyes working their way down his figure to see his fingertips painted in the same, dark color. you can feel the grin on his face from where your standing. The woman doesn't move or make a sound. she's completely limp in his arms.

within the blink of an eye, he's standing in front of you, his face still blurry as the woman disappears from his hold

"be careful with who you trust" he whispers. the way he moved was so quick, it scared you into falling into the water below you, and suddenly you jump up out of your bed with a gasp. your hand clenches your chest as your heave for air. you shake your head and turn on the light on your bedside table.

You look around, scared out of your mind before getting the courage to get up and walk to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and chugging the entire thing before putting it down on the counter, leaning down to stretch your back.

"it was only a nightmare" you say to yourself, standing up straight and running your fingers through your hair. You walk into the living room to check the time. 5:30 am and your psychology class starts at 8:00 am. You decide to take a shower and make yourself breakfast instead of going back to sleep, you're too awake to do so anyways, the dream forcing you into being fully alert.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

Walking into class, now tired out of your mind from getting up so early, you set your bag down and sit next to Jake. you lean over the desk with your head in your hands, face buried in your arms as you let out a groan.

"are you okay" Jake puts a comforting hand on your back that eases you. you turn your head to look at him, your eyes tired while you nod your head. Jake doesn't believe you and cocks his head to the side, a questioning look sweeps over his face as he looks at you.

"I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep, I'm so tired." you say, not looking away from him, the cutest pout on your lips. Jake wants nothing more than to kiss you right then and there, but he holds himself.

"I know how that feels" he says, his face softening. class begins and you end up falling asleep for the entire two hours, Jake taking down notes for you. he watches your peaceful figure, your shoulders moving up and down gently as your breathing is calm.

You feel a hand rubbing up and down your back and the softest, sweetest voice lure you out of your sleepy state. you blink your eyes open as you realize Jake is the one coaxing you out of your little nap.

"hi sleepy girl" the nickname makes your heart swell in your ribcage as you look up at him with a smile

"how long was I asleep for?" you ask him, not moving. he chuckles before answering your question.

"the whole class" you sit up quicker than the speed of sound, looking around to notice the class packing up, the clock striking 10 am. you shake your head in disappointment

"you let me sleep through the lecture??" you ask him in a sassy tone without meaning to, but he doesn't take it to heart

"you needed the sleep, I didn't want to wake you. you looked so peaceful" he says, his hand on your back leaving. you look at your open MacBook, then back at him

"I took the notes for you, if that helps" he gestures at the screen and you look at the organized notes before your expression softens

"im sorry for having an attitude, I'm just kind of anal about taking notes, but you did them perfectly" you stand up and close your laptop, putting it in your bag before slinging it over your shoulder.

"y/n, do you wanna hang out? we can study too if you want"

I just want to spend time with you.

you're glad he asked before you could, because you're not too sure you would have due to the fact that you were just too shy. you nod your head and walk out of the classroom side by side.

"where do you want to go?" you ask him as you begin to walk off campus. He shrugs his shoulders as he thinks, not really knowing where to go. you also think for a moment before the two of you begin talking in unison

"do you wanna go get food and then go to a park?" you ask him as he cuts his sentence short to listen to you. he nods his head

"that's perfect" he says as the two of you make your way to a cafe not far from campus. the bell dings, signaling to the workers that the two of you entered the building. Both of you stand in the short line to order, but you suddenly have the urge to pee.

"Jake, can you hold my things, I have to use the bathroom" you say. without needing any words, he grabs your tote off your shoulder and slings it around his. he smiles at you as you grip his arm gently without realizing it, walking off after. your touch lingers on his arm, even as he's ordering he can still feel your warmth.

you walk out of the bathroom after washing your hands to be met with Jake talking to another girl. She's beautiful; long blonde hair and a button nose, she's skinny and her clothes bring out her curves. she's holding onto Jakes arm, and before you could feel any sort of jealousy, he shifts under her hold uncomfortably, peeling out of her grasp with the fakest smile you've ever seen. you pause in your tracks, picking up on the conversation.

"You're so handsome, it's incredible" she says, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes at him. he chuckles and shakes his head. How could she not see the obviously pink tote bag littered with keychains and plushies on it? He clenches his jaw and musters out a "thank you"

"do you want to, I dont know, hang out? we could go back to my place?" she asks, eyeing him up and down. he shakes his head instantly, denying her invitation

"no thanks, im good. I'm actually here with someone" he cocks his head in your direction and she spins around, glaring at you. surprise takes over your body as you question how the fuck he knew you were standing there in the hidden corner without him even glancing at you. Your jaw slacks open in a quiet gasp as his eyes shift over to yours, not even needing to move his body or head to look at you. his stare makes you feel things you shouldn't. his eyes are telling you to come to him, so you obey, the both of them staring at you

You go to stand next to him shyly and Jake can't help but admire how obedient you are. he's not meaning to have such perverted thoughts about you at a time like this, but he can't help himself you're just too fucking adorable.

good girl

he thinks to himself. the girl huffs and walks away without a single word. you turn to face him

"good riddance, these girls have no shame" he says, smiling down at you

"you don't like it when girls approach you?"

"correction, I don't like it when they throw themselves at me" he says and before the conversation can continue, he holds up an iced matcha for you. you smile and look at it, then at him again.

"you bought it for me?" you ask and cup the cold drink in your hands.

"don't even think of paying me back" he says, still holding your tote as his now empty hand finds its way to gently grasp the small of your back, ushering the two of you out of the building and towards a non-busy park. You walk side by side through the cool, crisp autumn breeze. the golden, red, and brown leaves falling and crunching under your feet and the smell of the earth is calming. you take a sip of your drink and hum. Jake looks at you, admiring the way you enjoy the small things around you.

the both of you silently approach the grassy park and sit down next to each other. you set your drink down as he mimics your actions with your bag, putting it down next to him.

you lay down, your hair sprawled out on the ground but you don't care, you have to shower today anyways.

"its so nice outside, Its finally sweater weather, I can use my hoodies now" you say out in the open, not directly to Jake but at the world

"are you cold?" he asks you, moving to take his hoodie off before you can reply.

"a little, but its nice" before you open your eyes, you feel Jakes arms around your shoulders, ushering you to sit up as he helps you put his hoodie on. you take his hoodie as a kind gesture and put it on. its comforting, but not quite warm. you would think that his body heat would make the jacket at least a little warm, but its not.

it smells like him and your body begins to relax into the material of the jacket, feeling comforted.

"thank you, but aren't you gonna be cold?" you ask

"I don't get cold" you look at him, confusion written all over your face, but you take his words as a joke.

"ha ha, I guess you're just built different" you fake a sarcastic laugh at him and lay down again, Jake following after, laying next to you.

"do you have a girlfriend" you don't mean to be so direct, but his earlier actions confuse you, making you wonder if he just isn't looking for anything, or he already has a girlfriend. he turns to look at you, a serious look on his face as he speaks

"no. I've never fallen in love before and I don't plan to." he says as you turn to face him now, a little sad, but you listen to him with undivided attention.

"why?"

"everybody wants to just use me for my body. I don't understand it. not to toot my own horn but I do know that I am attractive, but im so much more than a handsome face. I want somebody to love me for me." he says and you become breathless, feeling the exact same way. you nod before you speak, looking deeply into his now hazel eyes

"I feel the same way. ive never met anybody who thinks the same way as I do apart from my best friend. I want to love someone and I want someone to love me, I don't want just sex I want-

-passion" Jake says the same word as you do. your face turns a deep shade of red. no other words needing to be said. his eyes lure you in dangerously close and suddenly you're daydreaming of kissing him.

kissing him with so much force and emotion it makes heat rise to your core, spreading throughout your body like fireworks.

"they're wrong about you" you blurt out as you keep daydreaming.

"I know" he says sadly. you can feel his emotions, as he feels yours.

"you're so kind, I dont understand how everybody can say such things" you chew the skin on the bottom of your lip after the words leave your mouth, worried you've said too much.

"you're too sweet to me" he's being serious. he's done unspeakably bad things, and he's dangerous. He's been telling himself to stay away from you out of fear he might hurt you as well because you're different than all the rest, but that fact alone drives him in more. you're like his muse. you're all he's been thinking about as of late, but no matter how hard he's been trying, he just can't stay away from you. he thinks of how badly he wants to crawl over you and devour you, show you how badly you've begun to take over every thought in his mind and the reasoning as to every action he's started making.

you've begun to drive him mad, and he's never wanted to take, taste, keep something to himself so badly.

his eyes shift color ever so slightly and you can almost swear they darken, his eyes getting heavy. however, you're not the least bit scared. you're intrigued.

you want to know what makes him tick. you want to know what he's thinking and why. his eyes flood into you, making you feel like your drowning in his stare. a coil starts to form in your lower abdomen, and you wonder how in the hell that's happened when he hasn't even hinted towards touching you.

"Jake" his name rolls off your tongue in a breathless whisper, almost like a hushed moan and its music to his ears. he hums in response, urging you to continue.

"do you think you could eventually fall in love?" you ask him, wishing he would give you the answer you would like to hear.

"I will, I can feel it." he says answering your question. he doesn't want to, but he feels himself falling for you ever so slowly, a ticking time bomb he wish he could defuse. he doesn't want you to be a part of his life because that would put you in danger, making you one of the most beautiful walking targets, and he would hurt anybody who even thought of laying a finger on you because of him.

but he doesn't want to let you go. the internal battle he's having with himself only grows with every passing second he's with you, and he's falling into insanity. with his slow decent into madness, yours follows not far after.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

this universe is a deep shade of red, and its dark. the cool water floods around your feet, making them cramp with how cold the temperature is. you've finally worked up the courage to walk around, wondering why you always find yourself in this familiar place every single night.

the only sound that echoes in the never ending universe is water rustling around, and your shallow breathing. it feels as though you've been walking for hours, if not days trying to find the answer as to why you've been brought here so frequently.

a scream makes you jump, whipping your head around as your heart feels like its going to leap into your throat and out of your mouth. your nails dig into your palms, attempting to ground yourself. you can see the familiar figure, holding the same woman in the white night gown, still stained in red.

you dare walk closer, tired of being played with like a game in your own dream world. you clench your jaw and swallow, hard. you begin to walk over with confidence, but all of your thoughts are drained from your body once you realize what's happening.

He's holding her in his arms bridal style, his knees digging into the wet floor as his face is in her neck. she's facing away from you, so you can't see who it is, but you can hear the moans of... agony, pleasure? you can't tell as they roll off her tongue and into your ears.

the water begins to turn red underneath the two of them, and all you want to do is wake up

wake up

wake up

please

but your frozen as you attempt to piece together what's unfolding before you. your jaw slacks open when one of his free hands slides under the slip of her dress, touching her in ways that make you feel tingly, now realizing her moans are ones of pleasure.

you gasp when he lifts his head up, his hair covering his eyes as he chuckles darkly. his face isn't blurred anymore, and you can almost just make out his face-

your hands fly to your mouth, trying to stop yourself from gasping even louder as he looks up at you, his mouth stained a with deep crimson red liquid that drips down his chin and onto his suit. a smirk litters his face as you can see the undeniably prominent fangs that stand out like a rose in a field of weeds.

"Jake.."

you shoot up out of bed, trying to understand what's happening. a loud bang makes you just about jump out of your skin and your window flies open, your curtains dancing in the night wind. you get up quickly and slam it shut before running back into bed and under the covers. your hands rake through your hair, pulling on it out of stress.

you just had a dream about Jake and he was.. inhuman. its not possible, it can't be. your hands move down to cover your face as you whine, realizing he wasn't just inhuman, but he was fingering someone, touching them in all the ways you wished he would touch you, and suddenly you start to think the most disgusting, vile thoughts of the man you've befriended less than two months ago.

thoughts ranging from kissing each other deeply, his hands all over you, touching your every nook and cranny you possess as he sucks deep, purple marks into your skin, his hands traveling down to the hem of your panties as he slips them to the side, sliding his fingers in and out of you ever so gently as if you were the most fragile little doll ever made

to him fucking you deep into the mattress, biting and grabbing you everywhere he could reach, his cock breeding you and engraving his shape into your body for all of eternity, marking you his as he carves his name into his creation, his little doll.

you feel disgusting as your fingers slip inside your underwear, dragging against your clit as you make yourself wetter at the though of Jake using you in every way possible. you slip down into the mattress as you begin fingering yourself, wishing he would come and replace your dainty little fingers with his long ones, stretching you and abusing your hole as if it were his own, and honestly, you wish he would come claim you.

"y-yun,,," you moan quietly, but much to your obliviousness, he hears your call, watching you from the darkest corner of your room, watching you unravel yourself just for him,, all because of him.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

"okay only two weeks until the project is due and we have to present, we just need to do revisions" one of your group partners says to the group. your head is in your hands, shielding yourself from the sun coming in through the windows. Jake puts a comforting hand on your back, luring you out of your almost-sleepy daze.

"are you okay?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. you turn your head to look at him, nodding with a small smile on your face. he looks at you as if he doesn't believe you, but doesn't push the issue.

"Ive done all my revisions, so im pretty much all done unless any of you need my help with anything" he says. you shift under his hand still rubbing your back.

"I'm all done too, ive been staying up late at night to get this done because I have other classes I need to focus on" you lie through your teeth. The real reason you haven't been getting sleep is because you have the same exact dream every single night, and it wakes you up at exactly four in the morning on the dot. its been almost three months now and you're starting to feel restless, and now with the new information that the man in your dreams is indeed Jake, you don't know how to feel. One thing you do know for certain is that you've begun to grow feelings for the blonde haired boy. The way he looks at you is alluring, and it the fact that the two of you have been hanging out almost every other day isn't helping your case. Whether it be studying for an exam, or watching a movie at home, you always find yourself with Jake as of recently. His presence is comforting, and you're beginning to become attached.

You feel gross for thinking it, but you've also been feeling a sort of urge with him. Thinking about how well he would fit inside you and how good it would feel. What kind of sounds would he make when he's fucking you. Would he moan, or keep quiet? Little to your knowledge, he's been thinking the same thing about you.

Would you writhe underneath him, or take his cock like the good girl he's come to be obsessed with. Would you whimper or scream? He wants all of you, especially the part he's most scared of taking.

You just smell so good.

He can't help but want to taste you. not only is your pussy making him want to do unspeakable things, but so is your blood. pure, innocent, and so full of life. your heart is also calling out his name without you realizing it, and so is his.

Even though his isn't beating or pumping blood throughout is body, he wishes it would beat just for you, all because of you. He still feels that red hot firework throughout his stomach and mind whenever he's around you, and all he wants to do is hold you and tell you how badly he craves you, needs you, wants you.

Your mind, body, and soul he wants to take for himself.

"lets go back to your place so you can nap, okay?" he says into your ear and you nod quicker than you can even think. He packs up his back as well as yours and carries them out of the building the four of you decided to study in for the day and head over to your apartment.

"y/nnnn" Jake says, throwing his head back as you look up at him through your eyelashes, you don't say anything, but pout instead.

"y/n please" you shake your head no, the pout not faltering.

"if I watch this with you, can you at LEAST let me teach you how to play Fortnite. All my friends are ass at playing" you groan, throwing your head back now.

"please please please please please-"

"FINE oh my god I just wanted to watch twilight for fucks sake you can teach me" you throw a pillow at him from your position on the floor before turning around to plug the dvd into the dvd player. you hear Jake snicker from behind you. you whip your head around with a glare, your lips sucked between your teeth.

"why on earth are you using a dvd player" he laughs.

"i'm going to strangle you." you say seriously, but Jake takes it as a challenge.

"oh yeah?" he spreads his legs apart slightly, manspreading on the couch as his arms are folded behind is head, and the way he's looking at you makes you feel hot and heavy, quickly.

"I'd like to see you try" your cheeks heat up, but you decide to stand up and charge at him anyways with a laugh. you jump onto his lap and your hands find their way to his neck, attempting to choke him out, but he grabs both your wrists in his one arm and flips your back onto the couch below you, hovering over your body.

suddenly, this game isn't funny anymore, as your thighs clamp down together as his face is only a couple mere inches away from yours. your lips part as you let out a shaky breath. you clasp your thighs together and Jake can smell the arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jake" there you go again, saying his name in the most beautiful, breathless and airy way possible. he drops his head down and shakes it, trying so hard to control himself.

"fuck,,, y/n.." he says quietly and you hum. he's eyeballing your neck, his own arousal and lust just about clouding his mind before a harsh knock scares you, making you jump in his hold. your arousal is stripped away from you as you turn towards the door.

"pizzas here" is all Jake says before letting you out of his grasp and heading towards the door, pulling out his wallet and saying for your pizza. you lay there while he's paying, trying to figure out what the hell that was. you felt so extremely turned on and Jake looked at you like he wanted to either kill you, or fuck you until you were completely braindead. You sit up as he puts the pizza on the living room table and the movie starts playing when you hit play on the remote.

The two of you watch in comfortable silence as you munch on your second slice of pizza.

"That's not how vampires actually are" he blurts out randomly. you turn to him and tilt your head in confusion

"what?" you ask him, swallowing your bite and putting the crust back into the box.

"not all vampires have powers, only the strongest of the strong have powers. its actually rare for a vampire to actually get their own individual powers, they're just fast and strong" he says in a matter of fact tone and it makes you wonder. It's odd how much knowledge he has about this sort of thing and he's talked about it before in front of you whenever you talk about mythical creatures.

"how do you know that" you look at him, turning your body to look at him fully as the movie becomes background noise.

"the internet is free, silly girl" he covers up his knowledge and shifts his gaze towards you, the movie pushed to the back of both your minds.

"that could be true, but we dont know for certain because its not real" you say trying to comfort yourself. Jake rolls his eyes with a small "sure" before smirking at you, leaning in towards your frame.

"what..." you say, leaning in the opposite direction. his hands come to either side of your legs, trapping you. one of his hands places itself on your waist and in less than a fraction of a second, he's ticking the life out of you as you scream for mercy.

"Jake pleaseeee let me go- pl- Jake please" you scream at him while laughing, writing under his fingers.

"nuhuh, you asked for this" he laughs with you and your hands fling up and around his neck, shaking your head from side to side. he stops ticking you and looks down, a smile still on his face. he collapses to the side of you after a moment of staring, and pulls you into his body by your waist, your head on his chest. your body relaxes into his hold and you nuzzle your face into him. this is the closest the two of you have gotten, and now he's finally holding you in one of the ways he's craved for what feels like eternity, and you could basically say that.

He's waited for someone like you to come around for hundreds of years, never being able to fall in love in the centuries of being on this earth, and he can't repress his feelings anymore as you fall asleep in his hold. Your steady breathing and the beating of your heart bring him comfort that nobody, and nothing else ever could. he kisses your forehead gently before groaning to himself.

He is so fucked.

he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes as he breathes in your scent, his arms around you tightening as if that would help protect you from all the evil in this world, including him.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

"Guys we got an A...." one of your group members says with a huge smile. you squeal and jump, giving your group mates a high five before Jake is pulling you into him from behind, giving you a huge hug.

"I knew we could do it, we're all way too smart for this class anyways" Jake says to everyone

"it helps that we had the smartest girl in school on our team too" he whispers in your ear as a deep shade of blush coats your cheeks. you turn around and slap his chest with an eye roll.

"be quiet" you shake your head and wave off your other, now past group members as they walk out of the class for the end of the semester.

"lets celebrate, wanna go get something to drink and go to the beach?" Jake asks and you look at him like he's crazy.

"Jake it's almost winter, what on earth are we gonna do at the beach?" you ask him, not quite rejecting his idea. he grabs your tote bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"I just want to look at the ocean and walk around, you don't have to come if-"

"No I want to, lets go" you grab his wrist interrupting him, dragging him out of the classroom and towards the campus cafe. The wind is chilly a sit blows your white maxi skirt, the hoodie Jake let you borrow a couple months ago keeping you warm. you turn to look at the blonde behind you before looking at him in surprise

"how are you not cold" you motion to the thin black t-shirt he's wearing. he shrugs his shoulders and pulls you to walk next to him instead of in front.

"I don't get cold often, remember?" he says, making the memory of him telling you that before front in your mind.

"oh yes I remember now, are you sure you're not cold?' he nods his head and looks to you with a reassuring smile before opening the door to the cafe, holding it open for you as you trot inside. you order a hot chocolate, offering Jake something but he declines.

The cafe is pretty, the walls a nice pretty green color with fairy lights littering the walls around you. it's not super busy especially for it being the middle of the day. Your drinks are finished and the two of you walk to the beach, not too far from the college. you grab his cold hand and lace his fingers with yours and urge him onto the sand, the water crashing down and meeting with the small grains to make a beautiful sound.

"its been so long since ive been to the beach, ive been so busy" you say and breathe in the salty air, and finish your drink, throwing it away at a near trash can and you start walking along the beach, avoiding the ocean water to not get your shoes wet. Jake follows you, walking a couple feet behind you.

Once you realize he's behind you, you stop and turn around to face him, questioning why he's walking behind you and not next to you. He stops in his tracks too, watching your body. Suddenly, an idea hits him as a shit eating grin makes its way to his face and you get the urge to run, watching the gears in his head turn. You spin around without questioning it and run away from him, and he takes off after you. You laugh and turn your head noticing how close he's gotten in such a short amount of time. You scream and pick up pace, but much to your avail, his arms wrap around your smaller frame and pick you up in the air. you kick your feet trying to get out of his hold, but he's strong, keeping you in his arms. He spins you around and throws himself on the ground, your body falling on top of his with a squeal.

"oh my god Jake, didn't that hurt?" you laugh and he shakes his head. you rest your chin on his chest as he lays in the sand, admiring how perfect his facial structure is. the way his blue eyes

blue eyes?

glitter in tune with the crystal ocean water. he brings his hand up to you, pushing the stray hairs out of your face and behind your ear. you shift on top of him and he feels every inch of your body very quickly. the way you smell is overwhelming and the way your warm, beautiful body is pressed against him pushes his senses into overdrive. his eyes change from blue to a deep red and within the fraction of a second, he's pushing your back into the sand with a small yelp coming from you, his face is in your neck, inhaling your scent deeply through his nose and out of his mouth. you whine, shifting uncomfortably underneath him as you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers finding his hair.

"Jake..?" you call out to him, but he doest hear you as he bites down on his bottom lip, hard as an attempt to control himself. he groans into your skin and it sends vibrations throughout your body. one of his hands is on your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin, but you can't feel it.

You pull his head up to look you in the eyes, but when you see him, your lips part and you become breathless.

Hes so incredibly handsome, but he looks like he's in pain. his nails dig into your skin and you yelp, tightening your grip in his hair without realizing, making him moan and fall into your neck again.

"j-jake?? are you okay?" your worry makes him want to split you open and fuck you right there in the sand, but he can't. he wont hurt you. He shakes his head and tightens his grip once more before letting you go gently, standing up and looking down at you, a harsh look in his eyes as he speaks.

"I can't y/n.. I can't- fuck..." he cocks his neck away from you and walks away, so quickly it's almost as if he disappeared. you lay in the sand, awe struck and trying to figure out what the hell just happened. you lay there for a few minutes, wishing he would come back, say something- anything to you. your suspicions grow with every passing second and before you could let your mind go into overdrive, you get up and brush the sand off. on your walk home, you try and think of something else, anything to take your mind off the raging, burning hot pit in the bottom of your abdomen. you bite your lip so hard, it starts bleeding when you approach the door of your apartment.

You slam the door behind you and lock it. you throw off your clothes, suddenly feeling hot despite the cold weather. you get in the shower, trying to wash yourself clean, but no matter how many pumps of body wash you use or how red you scrub your skin, you feel dirty.

Does Jake not want to be around you because he figured out you have a crush on him? or even worse... you want him to use you? fuck you? you groan and throw your loofa on the ground and turn off the water.

after getting dressed and drying off your hair, you think about what to eat for dinner, but instantly feel nauseous at the thought of eating, so you just turn on the tv to distract your brain, but the phone on the corner of the table is calling your name.

You stare at the device before scooping it up to see if Jake texted you.

Nothing.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

The red universe has now become your second home as you find yourself here once again. the water isn't as cold as it normally is, it's actually quite warm. you clench your jaw with an eye roll and begin to walk around, looking for the familiar blonde boy and the mysterious woman in white.

it feels as though you've been walking around for hours before your eyes land on the familiar scene, only this time, its clearer.

he's once again on his knees with her in his arms, his hand is slipped under her night gown, her moans echoing off the chambers of your skull, a pang of jealousy hits you straight in the heart as you scowl.

he lifts his head and turns to you, the blood of the woman staining his lip and clothes, the same black suit has undertones of red and you tense at the eye contact. his fingers work faster inside of her as she turns her head, looking dead at you as you gasp.

All these nights of waking up with your clit pulsating and your mind as tired as can be finally all make sense as you look at the woman

a perfect mirror

its you

"no,,," you whisper

"oh yes" he chuckles darkly, and you go to turn your head because when he spoke, the voice wasn't coming from Jake himself, but from behind you.

when you turn your head, your body freezes as you're now on the ground exactly where the mirrored version of you was and you moan loudly at the quick ripples of pleasure that flow throughout your body, caused by jakes fingers working inside you, pumping your walls as you become as wet as the ground beneath you.

you turn your head to look at the man above you. his eyes are a deep, vibrant red and even though its dark, his pale skin is shimmering as if you're in a room full of lights.

"Jake.." you whimper to him, his eyebrows pinch together and suddenly he looks like he's in pain, giving you the same exact look he had given earlier at the beach.

he lowers his head to your neck, and bites down.

Your moans pick up volume as they fill your dark room, the moonlight cascades in through your window as jakes silhoutte is illuminated perfectly, his shadow pours down onto the bed where you moan his name in your sleep so prettily.

You fling yourself out of sleep, sitting up with heavy panting, your chest heaving up and down. Jake looks at you as you awaken, his figure looming over you as he stands at the foot of the bed. you feel anothers presence and decide to look up and that's when you see him. his eyes are as red as they were in your dream, and there are prominent eye bags that soil his perfect skin. the spaghetti straps on your white nightgown fall off your shoulders and your hair is a mess. with parted lips, you breathy call his name, but he doesn't move, nor does he speak.

"Jake please..." you call again. he bites his lip and shakes his head.

"I can't.." his pained voice responds finally after your plea. you feel your eyes burning and your clit is throbbing more than it ever has in your life, your forehead is starting to get glossy as sweat begins to rise on your skin. you shake your head, not understanding the meaning of all of this, the dreams, him running away, why he's so cold all the time but can't feel it, his eye color changes, why you've never seen him eat, or drink.

Why can't you read him?

"I don't understand, Jake please" you whine at him and it drives him crazy, falling head over heels once more. his hands make their way up to his hair as he tugs on it out of frustration.

"I'm in love with you y/n." his words vibrate your body, your eyes widening when you understand them.

"but I can't be with you."

"why?" you cry out to him, begging him to do anything, touch you, hold you, feel you. you need something, you need him more than anything.

"I can't hurt you. I wont do it." he turns around looking out of the window, and for the first time in his pathetic life, he feels his eyes sting, his thirst increasing with every passing second.

"I want you, please. you could never hurt me, I don't want you to go, Jake I-" you cut yourself off as he turns towards you, his hands dropping out of his hair to dangle by his sides.

"I love you" he scoffs, not believing you.

"you love a person who kills people in order to survive." you shake your head in disbelief, knowing this would come sooner or later.

"you love a person who has been resisting the urge to take you since the first moment he's laid his eyes on you, y/n." his voice is dark but somehow sweet. you shake your head again, denying his words.

"you love a monster."

"you're wrong. I love you Jake, I love Sim Jaeyun, I need you please- please don't leave me" you squeak out the last bit of your sentence. your eyes pleading him to stay. the arousal only growing stronger the longer his around you and he can sense it.

"I don't care that you're a vampire, I don't care about any of it I just need you, im begging you Jaehyun. stay with me, please. I can't imagine myself without you I dont want that" you get up on your knees, crawling over to his body that stands near the edge of the bed. his lips are parted, giving you a full view of his fangs that you've never ever seen before.

if he had one, his heart would have been shattered in his chest with the way you're looking at him; worried and completely heartbroken. he would rip it out and gift it to you on a silver platter if it meant he could be with you with no risks. so the venom coursing through is veins at rapid speed replaces his heart. he's never felt hot in his life up until this moment, where the woman he's been waiting for for centuries is begging for him. his eyes hold pain as they meet yours.

His hand moves up to grip your chin softly, ghosting his fingers along your skin before cupping your cheek, caressing your face with his thumb.

"I won't hurt you y/n. I can't.. imagine having an existence without you in it, but I refuse to cause you any pain. I wont do it" his voice is stern, a single tear falling from his eye and down his cheek in frustration. you want him to understand how badly you need him.

"you could never do such a thing, please, im begging you please don't leave me.." your eyes reassure him. it takes a moment of silence and a lot of thinking before he speaks, finally giving you an ounce of hope.

"if I stay here with you, y/n, you'll never be able to leave. you're life will forever be different. if you want me to stay, you'll be marked as mine, permanently. do you understand love?" he gives you the final opportunity to back out, and some sick part of him hopes you will stay. you nod your head in his grasp, but that's not enough for him.

"words, sweetheart."

"I want you and only you in this lifetime, and all the ones after, I promise. I'm yours" you say in a whisper, and that's exactly what Jake wanted to hear. he bends down so his face is right in front of yours

"I love you" he says quickly under his breath before his lips capture yours in a deep, heated kiss. giving up on the last bit of restraint he had. this kiss was one filled with so much desire and longing that it makes you whine into his mouth, and he happily swallows it. his free hand moves to the outside of your thigh, and before you realize, a flip switches in Jakes mind as he's picking you up by the bottom of your thigh, his huge hand swallowing you as he pushes you up farther on the bed, pinning you down. his teeth scratch your bottom lip as your teeth crash against each other. your hands fly to his hair, gripping on his blonde locks to keep you from floating out of your body. his hand then moves towards your knee, spreading your legs apart.

His hand slips up the silk of your night gown, his fingers met with the flimsy lace fabric of your panties that are soaked through and through. he growls lowly before he speaks

"you drive me so. fucking. insane." is all he says before pulling the fabric to the side and dipping his freezing fingers in your wet folds. you break the kiss as your eyes fly closed, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as he rubs concentrated figure eights on your slit. your mouth slacks open in a perfect 'o' shape. Jake takes this opportunity to dip his face in-between the skin of your neck and shoulder, sucking the prettiest shade of purple into your soft skin. he can now hear your blood flowing.

he licks a stripe up the junction of your neck and collarbones and towards your ear, biting down on the lobe which causes you to arch your back into him. Jake takes this opportunity to plunge two long fingers into your tight cunt, and he chuckles at how tight you squeeze his digits. you turn your head to face him and he detaches from your neck, looking down at you.

your face buries itself into his neck, finding comfort in his cool skin against your hot face. your moans muffle against him as you flutter around his fingers deep inside of you.

he curls his fingers up, grazing your sweetspot perfectly and you moan his name rather loudly.

"let me hear you my darling" you detach from his neck and open your eyes, looking into his red ones as your parted lips moan his name in the most sinful chant he's ever heard. his fingers twist and curl into you faster, making your hips buck up into his palm.

Jake sits up and uses his free hand to push your hips down into the mattress, keeping you from moving.

"stay still" he commands, and you obey. Jake slowly sinks down onto the bed as his fingers pull out of you. you whine in protest, but quickly hush your mouth when he pulls your red lace panties down your legs with his teeth, his fangs on full display. you clench down on nothing at the sight and he sees this, chuckling darkly.

he throws your legs over his shoulders as he pins your hips down with one of his hand, the other coming to trace the slit of your pussy, gently rubbing a circle around your clit every time he makes his way back up. you groan in frustration after a minute passes, but that's quickly cut short as he forces two of his digits inside your pussy, curling upwards instantly to scratch your g-spot. you attempt to thrust your hips forward, but are met with the rough forcefulness of jakes hand keeping you pinned to your silk sheets.

his teeth graze your clit, his hair in his face making you feel the coil in your stomach form. you yelp when he bites down, sucking afterwards to soothe the pain as he begins to eat you out. his tongue is fast against you, the sweat forming on your body creates a beautiful glow on your skin and Jake can almost swear that you walked straight out of a painting. the most beautiful painting ever created. the moonlight cascades down over his figure, his jawline sharp as it moves when he laps at your cunt like a starved animal-

-and that's exactly what he was. your legs wrapped around him in a desperate, failed attempt to suffocate him as you squirm underneath his tongue. fast, wet, and cool as he fucking you from the inside out. his fingers splitting you open as they work inside you. your walls squeeze him tight and he wonders how you'll ever be able to take his cock.

"y-yun,, m'- ffuck" you moan out to him as you grip the silk sheets on either side of you. Jake can't get enough of how sweet you taste. the perfect girl having the most perfect taste, what more could he ask for? He groans into your pussy, his fingers pulling out of you to wrap around your legs, the hand on your abdomen mimicking the others actions as he pulls you into his face. if he could breathe, he would be suffocated. a part of him wishes he could be suffocated because this right here is the closest he's going to be getting to heaven ever. especially with the sinful thoughts that have collected in his head since he met you. he's the devil himself when it comes to you.

You gasp at his actions, gripping his hair tightly between your fingers and grind onto his face. his long tongue fucks itself into you, pulling out to lick, suck, and bite your clit at a perfect rhythm that has your back arching and Jakes name dancing off your tongue creating the sweetest harmony that fills his ears. your juices spill out of his mouth, much to his dismay, and down his chin and onto the bed, soaking the sheets under your ass. your legs shake in his tight grip, your grinding onto his face becomes sloppy as your moans become whimpers. your pussy flutters, and Jake takes note of this. His eyes watch you as he tips you over the edge, spilling all over him as he brings you to your first orgasm. you cream around his tongue as you squirt liquids everywhere. your breathy whine of his name makes his eyes roll into the back of the head with a groan that sends vibrations throughout your body starting at your cunt. he helps you ride out your high, slowly licking and sucking your clit to comfort you on your way down.

you collapse onto the bed as he stands up at the foot of your bed and you hear a click. his belt coming undone as you sit up on your forearms, eyeing him. You're breathless as you stare at the man before you. his eyes glow a deep red and the moonlight hits him perfectly as he takes off his belt in one quick motion, holding it in his hands staring at you.

"so pretty..." you say under your breath towards the creature before you. he chuckles at your words and throws the belt above you on the bed. you go to turn and look at it, but the feeling of his hands wrapped around your ankles prevents you from doing so as he yanks you down to the foot of the bed where he stands. you yelp in surprise as you're face to face with his chest. he grips the base of your jaw in his huge hand, forcing you to look up at him.

"I wan'.. to... want.." your words trail off, not knowing how to word what you want. he tilts his head to the side and brings his hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek

"tell me what you want baby" his thumb caresses the soft skin, comforting you.

"I wan' you to... taste me..." you whisper and his ears perk up. he sighs, shaking his head.

"oh honey, I wish I could. I really do... but I can't.. I'll hurt you.. I'll lose myself" his hand entangles in your hair, massaging your scalp softly. you whine, shaking your head and furrow your eyebrows. you look up at him and place your fingers in the loop bands of his pants.

"please, yun.. please please please I want you to, need... please plea-" he quickly forces your nightgown above your head and throws it in the corner of the room to be forgotten before his hands find your hair again, yanking it back as you interrupt yourself with a loud scream at the pain. he forces your back down onto the bed as he reaches above you to grab his belt. he ties your arms above your head and around the bed post quicker than you can contemplate. he stands back up at the foot of the bed, watching you squirm under his gaze. he laughs at your helpless figure, finding it way to amusing how easy it is to get you to submit to him.

"you look so cute when you squirm around, my dear" he says unbuttoning his suit jacket and sliding it off, revealing the silky dark brown collared button up. he tilts his head at your whine as he unbuttons the dress shirt painfully slow, sliding it off of his arms to reveal his pale skin and toned body and your mouth waters. he slides the silky material off of him and shoots you a toothy, shit eating grin. one full of lust that makes your thighs clamp together. he unbuttons his dress pants and unzips the zipper, so slowly as if to taunt and tease you.

he slides his pants down passed his ankles and kicks them away, his boxers shielding you from seeing what you want the most. you whine again, signaling him to hurry. he shushes you and pulls his boxers down. his cock springing up to slap against his abdomen, precum leaking from his pink tip. he's huge. long and girthy as you wonder how the fuck that was going to fit inside you. everything about him is perfect, and he just now proved that to you. he crawls over your small frame, his hands enveloping your waist as he caresses your bare skin. the cold air hits your nipples, making them perky and hard, goosebumps littering your skin.

Jake takes his fingernail and presses it against your upper hip on your stomach, his eyes never looking away from you. before you could realize what was happening, he scratches you, hard. you let out a soft yelp at the sudden pain, blood trickling out of the fresh wound and slowly down your hip bone, pooling on your skin. he does it again with his other hand, above the other hip. you yelp, arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach once more and Jake can smell it. his eyes widen as he continues to look at you.

"god, look at you. such a messy, disgusting girl. you're enjoying this hmm?" he says before he cuts you open again. you moan at his words and the pain. your face heating up in embarrassment because what he said was true. you feel hot tears in the back of your eyes you feel so embarrassed, but in a good way. he takes note of your glossy eyes and pouts at you.

"no need to cry sweet thing, ill take care of you." Jake leans over you and kisses your tears away. his kisses trail from your cheeks, down your collarbones and in-between your breasts and down your stomach. he smells your blood before he looks at it, so close that he can basically taste it. his hands find your waist as he holds you in place, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick the smallest bit of blood off your stomach. His mind goes into overdrive as white hot pleasure rips through him. you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, and it makes him want to suck you dry as you struggle underneath him. his grip around you tightens as his long tongue licks up your blood from one of your wounds completely, his lips latching around the cut as he sucks. your walls clench around nothing as you pull at the restraints around your wrists.

he groans into your stomach, your sweet taste covering all his senses as he moves to lick another fresh cut. the way you taste, he will never ever need anything else ever again. nothing could amount to you. you grind your hips into his body as his mouth moves to the final wound, licking it clean and when you look down, surprise overwhelms you as the deep cuts he made are completely healed up scars.

as you look into his eyes, you see Jake for exactly what he is; a vampire. that doesn't scare you away, however it turns you on even further. he quickly pushes himself above you, his lips crashing against yours as he bucks his hips into you, his dick pressing against your heat but not quite going in. you whimper into his mouth, a plea for him to fuck you. you can taste blood on his tongue as you grind against his length, begging him, needing him to use your body.

so that's exactly what he does.

He grabs his cock in his hand and presses it against your entrance, pushing his tip inside of you. you hiss at the stretch, tugging at your restraints. you whine from underneath him. his face finds its way to kissing your neck, littering your skin with his lips. he pushes his dick inside you slowly before bottoming out, his balls slapping against skin.

"so tight, so good baby,, feels like fucking heaven" he says, taking his cock out before pushing it back inside you, his tip instantly kissing your cervix in the sweetest way possible. you scream in pain and pleasure, his dick filling you up perfectly. he lifts his head from your neck so his lips ghost over your skin, breathing hot air on you making you shiver, goosebumps rising to your skin. you squirm in his hold, his hand coming to your waist to hold you in place as the other comes to grip the headboard above you.

His thrusts start off slow and gently, making sure you keep up with his rhythm. your walls flutter around his cock, driving him up the wall before his pace increases, thrusting into you faster and faster, the breathing on your neck giving you chills now as he moans into your neck. your boobs jiggle up and down with every thrusts while your moans begin to sound broken as you choke them out.

Jake licks your neck, making you moan even louder than before and you finally feel scared for the first time, wondering how it's going to feel when he finally sinks his fangs into you. will it hurt? you don't know, but you can't wait to find out. your legs shake and thrash around, and your jaw slacks open in a perfect "o", inhumane sounds spill from your lips as you beg for something you're not even sure of.

Jake growls against your skin, the grip on your waist increasing until his fingernails break the skin of your hips. the smell of blood hits his overdriven senses and he finally bites.

as he sinks his teeth into you, a blood curtailing scream is ripped from your throat, white hot pain shoots down your body in ripples as he sucks the blood out of you through your neck. you kick your legs under him, not sure if you're trying to get away, or make him chase you.

your scream of pain is replaced by pleasure as his venom spreads through your veins, your entire body feels like its on fire and you've never felt so good in your entire life. you pull at the restraints as you shake in his hold. his hand on your waist wraps around your back, pulling you into his body as he thrusts up into you.

Everything becomes too much and you can feel every inch of your body. even with jakes arm wrapped around you, you arch your back somehow closer into him, trying to fuse your body into his, wanting nothing more than to feel complete. you press into him with all your strength, wishing hard enough that you could intertwine your body with his own in order to finally feel as if you were one. he wasn't close enough even though he was all over and in you, spreading through you like ice. you want nothing more than to be whole with him in every way possible.

your pussy flutters around him as the knots in your tummy begin to unravel. your moans change and Jake picks up on it, noting how your body starts going limp in his hold. With much force, and an internal battle, he detached from your neck, moving his face to look into your eyes.

He looks handsome, your blood dripping down his chin, his lips stained the most beautiful shade of red. you being painted all over him.

"Let go baby im right here, I got you" is all he says before you let go, Jake being the one to catch you when you fall. the way you clench around his cock milks him dry as he cums inside you. the both of you orgasm in unison, your mixed fluids coming to hit the bed beneath you. Jake fucks you through your orgasm, it's not enough. he's not close to being done with you.

you harshly tug at the belt, your wrists feeling raw. you need to touch him, bring your sweaty body closer to his. He takes notice of your begging face and the tugging at your bonds. you look at him with teary eyes as he gives you a genuine pout. his thrusts not faltering as you feel another coil in your stomach begin to form.

"please, please please please please" you beg him before his arm unwraps itself from your body, undoing the belt in one quick, swift motion. he throws it across the room as it lands on the ground with. a clank. your now free hands fly to his back, your fingers digging into his skin, pulling him closer.

He kisses you deeply, your blood smearing on your face now. he bites your lip with a groan before rolling his eyes. His hand grabs your hips and forces you off the bed, his dick slipping out of you. Jake flips you over on your stomach as he moves behind you on your knees.

One of his hands grips your throat and forces you to sit up, your back pressed against his front. he bends his head down to your ear and whispers sinisterly.

"who owns you, pretty girl?" he asks and you gulp.

"you do" you answer and he smiles.

"that's right darling, such a good girl hmm?" he says. his cold body feels good against your burning one. its like you were made for each other. the moon and the sun, water and fire, two halves of the same whole.

He likes your neck, the one that has yet to be bit. you shudder at the feeling of his tongue on his skin before he gently nips you, the smallest trail of blood rushes down your neck, collarbones and down your breast.

His free hand snakes around your body, pressing two fingers against your clit, rubbing circles on your bundle of muscle. you moan, pushing your back against him. Jake licks the blood on your neck before biting down harshly. Another scream exits your throat as you jump, trying to get away from him, but your attempt to run is unsuccessful as he presses your ass against his dick, his strength overpowering you. the hand on your throat squeezes tighter, making you light headed as that overwhelming and familiar feeling of icy pleasure goes off in your body, spreading quickly once again and you're a moaning mess as you fall apart in his hands.

your body starts feeling like jelly, so Jake unlatches his mouth from your neck and pushes you down on your stomach, your hips hitting the soaked bed beneath you. His body crawls over your limp one. his arm snakes under your body and around your breasts to grip your neck once more, his other hand forces your thighs apart before grabbing his hard cock in his hand and pushes it inside you.

Your quiet mewl fills jakes skull as he groans at your sounds spilling from your mouth. his dick pushes against your sweet spot that has you a moaning, pathetic mess underneath him. your fingers lace inbwetween the bedsheets as you fist them in your palm.

Jakes thrusts are relentless, fucking himself inside you at an animalistic pace. the two of you are so disgusting and messy, the smell of copper and sweat leaks through the walls. you can feel is breath against your ear again as he moans into you, his sounds have you clenching around him, fluttering like an innocent little butterfly as you begin to lose all train of thought, your eyes beginning to look dead as a trail of drool exits from the corner of your mouth.

"aww, my precious angel, you look so adorable when I'm fucking you dumb" he coos at you, his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck behind your ear. you take his words with a clench around his dick, making him moan loudly. his grip on your throat tightens as does the one on your hips.

"takin' my cock so well, its like you were made for me pretty" his teeth sink into you one last time as he drinks your sweet liquid, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins once more as you become overstimulated with everything around you. your body attempts to crawl away from him, but he doesn't let that happen

"s' too much, can't, please I can't" you beg, hot tears spilling from your eyes as saliva drools out of your mouth. he chuckles at your attempt to run

"you can take it sweetheart, doin' so good for me baby, you can do it" he says, his venom causing you to spill over the edge as his hips snap against your ass ruthlessly, fucking you into the mattress that you wouldn't be surprised if there is an outline of your body engraved in the plush material. you're also pretty sure the skin is red where his hips meet the flesh of your ass. you mewl as broken sobs fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping. the knot in your stomach snaps as you're creaming all over his dick, milking him dry as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you. his head falls onto your shoulder as he preps your skin in kisses as you come down from your conjoined highs. your bodies interlaced for all of time with the way he's marked you in more ways than one.

you're his and he's yours.

your eyes close as sleep overwhelms your mind as your breathing steadies. Jakes venom starts to exit your blood stream, making you unbelievably tired. Jake kisses your shoulder blade once more before you fall asleep.

"goodnight, y/n" is all you hear before you pass out in his arms.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸

When you wake up, it's still dark outside, meaning you've only been asleep for a little bit now. you sit up and look around. the bed is clean, there are no marks on you from what you can see, and you're dressed in your white nightgown. your mind instantly goes into panic mode, worried that everything that happened between you and Jake was a dream. Your head fills with anxious thoughts before you lift your eyes to the window across the room, seeing Jake's silhouette cascade through your room thanks to the moonlight. you sigh to yourself before standing up out of bed, but you almost collapse onto the floor with how week you are. Jake hears your struggle and turns around, noticing you awake, he walks over to you, embracing you in his arms gently.

You look up into his now dark brown eyes, admiring how handsome he looks in this exact moment, your pupils dilate and Jake swear he can feel a pang in his chest. you wrap your arms around his neck and bite your lip anxiously, not knowing what to say.

"what's the matter my love?" the nickname calms you slightly, putting your thoughts together before you speak.

"that wasn't a dream... right..?" you ask shyly and Jake smiles at you.

"it was very much real baby" his fingertips trace the beautiful purple and red marks on your neck, and the bite scars that follow along with it. you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. his hand cups your cheek and you lean into his comforting touch, closing your eyes. your mind goes against you as begin to overthink again, worried that he would leave you now that you know everything. as if he read your mind, he speaks.

"I've waited centuries for you, y/n. I'm not letting you go." he says before kissing your forehead.

"you're mine" he kisses your nose

"and I'm yours" he brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses your palm

"forever"

[devotedfem]

«Scream»

Synopsis: It's late and you're watching horror movies. But someone's calling you, a weirdo asking you questions about classic horror films. Nothing was wrong until he started to threat you, and when you hang up the phone you realized there's murderers wearing ghostface masks in your house.

Maknae line (poly) x f. Reader

2.7K words.

Genre: Scream au | yander-ish.

Tags: psycopaths maknae line, mind games, psychological terror, murderers (implied but not described), betrayal, the maknae line are a menace here, emotional conflict, delusional maknae line, angry reader, very VERY dubious consent (coercion is not consent so read with caution), happy ending for them not for reader, smut, overstimulation.

A/N: I'm so sorry for disappearing for literally a month, i moved to another country and life has been very stressful lately, so yeah i took a break from writing but here i am again, writing lots of vminkook p0rn. Hope you enjoy!

From the series masterlist; Final girl.

Navigation Masterlist.

You’re eating popcorn, resting on your couch with your feet up on the armchair. You took a gulp of your coke can without breaking your gaze from the tv screen, you startled staining your shirt when the slasher appeared from nowhere, you cursed under your breath taking off your shirt but before you can go to your room to change, your phone vibrated with notifications. You turned them off because the boys always get annoying on the weekends.

You opened the group chat, rolling your eyes when you see the 123 unread messages.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

Jiminie: Guys can u please stfu for a moment, I wanna sleep but u don’t stop talking shit.

You: let’s kicked them out of the group Jiminie, I swear I can’t even watch a movie in peace.

Jjk: u two r so fcking boring.

Tae: right? Like can u two at least read what were talking abt.

You: we’re*

Jiminie: lol

Jjk: Guys this is serious, there’s a sicko killing people wearing a ghostface mask.

You: Ghostface masks are hot.

Tae: ??

Jjk: ???????

Jiminie: ik right

You: Anyway, maybe is just a rookie killer without imagination, like it’s Halloween and there’s a lot of sickos around here. Just closed ur doors and don’t be a pussy.

Tae: I’m literally speechless.

Jiminie: Bye I’m sleeping, stfu.

Jjk: we warned u.

You dropped your phone on the couch, walking to your kitchen to make more popcorn. You missed the plot twist of the movie because of your friend’s annoying group chat.

You were on your bra and pajama pants, not caring about anything in the world. Until your home phone rings in your kitchen making you stop immediately. You frowned tilting your head to the side, watching the old home phone still ringing. It’s being ages since someone called to that number, you didn���t even know that the ancient thing was still working.

“Odd,” you murmured to yourself, answering the phone.

“Hello?”

You heard a heavy breath on the other side of the phone. The person says nothing back, making you frown.

“Who’s this? And why are you calling to this number?” Your patience was running thin ice.

“I’m watching you,” said a man with a low voice.

You rolled your eyes with annoyance.

“Is this a prank? Don’t call to this number again or I’ll fuck you up.”

You were about to hang up the phone but a deep chuckle from the man stopped you. Why does he sound familiar to you?

“Are you watching Friday the 13th?” He taunted. His voice sounded odd, like if he was lowering it purposely.

Your stomach sink with dread, your heart rate speed up when you heard from the tv the slasher killing people.

“What if I do?” You gritted between teeth, keeping an eye on your surroundings. You won’t show fear to that weirdo.

 “Let’s play a game, I’ll ask you some questions about horror movies. And if you answer wrong, I’ll kill you.”

Your eyes widened by his words, you were about to hang up and call the police but the other man was quicker than you.

“If you hang up or try to touch your fucking phone I’ll slice your neck,” the threat made you freeze on your place, the wire of the home phone wouldn't let you move far away anyway.

You felt your eyes sting up with tears by fear. You remember Jungkook and Taehyung warning.

Your breath turned shallow and your grip on the home phone started to tremble. You felt cornered and scared.

“What’s the identity of the masked killer of Scream?”

You inhaled deep, this one was easy.

“Uhm, his name was Billy, Sidney’s boyfriend.”

Your eyes roamed your kitchen, watching your surroundings again with dread and fear.

“Good.”

You couldn’t help but frown again because he sounded so familiar to you, but you can’t pinpoint of whom that voice belongs to.

“Last one; what’s the plot twist of Friday the 13th?”

Fucking fucker.

This time your eyes blurred by unshed tears because of how nervous and panicked you felt. You’ve never been good at dealing with strong emotions, even when you try to act tough, in your insides you’re very easy to scare and intimidate.

“I- please i-I don’t know,” you stuttered with quivering lips, you feel like having a panic attack.

“Look behind you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched sharply, you turned your neck to look behind you, widening your eyes and screaming at the top of your lungs when you saw a man in your kitchen, wearing a ghostface mask and waving his unoccupied hand at you.

And then you run.

And he did it too.

You grabbed your phone from the couch, noticing with horror how the SIM card was missing. But you didn’t have time to linger about that thought.

You listened to his steps chasing you from behind, making you run faster by the increase of adrenaline pumping your veins.

You tried to open the front door of your house, but it didn’t budge. You were home alone, your parents went out in a trip.

You were fucked up.

Without any more options, you climbed the staircases hiding in a bathroom.

You try texting your parents but it was past midnight and your phone didn’t have its sim card, so you can’t call neither text.

That’s why you opened the app where you and your friends have the group chat.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: CALL THE POLICE THERE’S SOMEONE IN MY HOUSE AND THEYTOOKMYSIM CARD

Jjk: y/n? what the fuck, that’s not funny.

You: PLEASE IM NOT JOKING AND I CANTK CALLM THEPLICE

Tae: are you being serious right know?

Jiminnie: you guys again?

Jjk: Y/n’s saying there’s someone in her house but she can’t call the police but she can chat with us lol.

You: GUYS PLEASEIMSERIUS PLEASE HES COMING I NEED YOUR HELP CALL THE POLICE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tae: dude writing in capitals won’t make your prank more credible

You screamed into your hand with frustration, pulling your hairs out and weeping with fear, you wanted to smash your head against the tiles by exasperation. They weren’t taking you seriously.

Then you half open the door quietly, watching the murderer roaming the hallway. When he turned his back to you, distracted on his phone, you took yours to snap a picture of him.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: *send picture*

You: THIS IS HIM HES INMYHOUSE

Jjk: what the fuck

You: JUNGKOOK IM HAVINGAPANICK ATTACK CALL THE FUCKING POLICE OR ILL KILL YOU MYSELF

Tae: Damn no need to be so harsh y/n, calm down.

You: CALL THE POLICE YOU MORONS

Jiminnie: u guys r so annoying

You: jiminniehelp me please please please im scared imnot lying

Jjk: y/n you’re making me worry, aren’t you fucking with us?

You: NOO!!!!!!!!

Tae: oh well, then we should do something abt it

You: OFC U IDIOT

Jjk: yeah ur right tae, what we should do?

You: CALLTHEPOLICE?????!!!!!!!!

Tae: u think so?

Jjk: mm not so sure

Tae: and u Jiminnie, what do u think?

You: guys whats happening, please im scared

Jiminnie: I think I’ll go and help my y/n.

You frowned with trembling hands, tasting the saltiness of your silent tears. You were about to throw up and insult them again but the bathroom’s door opening made you jump with fear.

“Here you are.”

In any other circumstance you would scream and run for your life, you would grab something from the bathroom to throw it at him and save your life. But none of that happened, you stayed in your spot freeze, maybe because you were having a panic attack, but even then your primal instincts should fuel you to run. But that wasn’t the reason of your frozen state. Not at all. It was the fact that you recognized that voice.

“You… are you…”

Then the murderer took off his ghostface mask, tilting his head to the side and making your heart shatter.

“Yes my y/n?”

Jimin, fucking Park Jimin.

The deep fear was replaced by ugly hurt and anger. You saw red, walking towards him with your fists clenched, you punched him on his shoulder but he didn’t budge.

“How dare you scared me like that! You think is funny?! I hate you so much, I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, with angry tears streaming to your chin.

“You thought I was joking?” he asked with mirth, the dark glint in his eyes turned your stomach with dread.

“Just get out Jimin,” you said tired and hurt.

“Y/n, I’m here to kill you-”

And just by that your fear came back twice as hard, your ears buzzed clogging up Jimin’s next words.

You ignored your throat lump of hurt and betrayal, you felt numb while running away from him, hiding in one of the bottom’s cabinets of your kitchen.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling your knees to your chest. You cried until you felt your eyes swelling.

“Y/n? Baby where are you?”

Your eyes widened at Taehyung’s sweet voice calling for you.

You didn’t think twice before opening the cabinet and throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Taehyung chuckled hugging you back as hard, stroking your hair while you’re crying on his neck.

“There there, nothing bad will happen to you.”

The shinning knife in Taehyung’s other hand knocked some sense into you. The realization of your reality hit you hard making you gasp and break the hug in a flash, you watched him with your jaw set and your eyes showing the deep hurt and betrayal you felt inside.

Taehyung foxy smile widened on his lips, he pouted when you took a step back from him.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he said softly, biting his bottom lip to stop a smirk.

You let him come closer to you just a step, and then you blow his head with a pan making him whimper with pain. You used his moment of confusion to run away past him.

You opened a window to get out of your house, your ears were buzzing by the raw adrenaline pumping your veins like liquid fire.

You were so, so close to reach your car until you’re not. The next thing you know is that you’re falling face down on the floor by a body launching at your back. You groaned with pain, feeling the body pinning you to the ground by its weight.

“Caught you,” Jungkook’s voice taunted against your ear, sounding out of breath.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, making Jungkook cursed under his breath. He covered your mouth quickly, lifting your body to take you inside the house again.

Your eyes were too swollen by the amount of tears you shed tonight, you were tired and hurt by their sick game.

Jungkook sat on your couch with you on his lap, one arm wrapped around your naked waist to pull you against his chest.

“Isn’t she so cute?” asked Jimin sighing dreamily, you felt acid rage running your veins. You felt like being mocked on.

“A little feisty, but pretty.” Taehyung sat beside you on the couch, his forehead dripping a little bit of blood. You smiled wide at his wound.

“Did it hurt?” You pointed to his forehead, he simply nodded with the corner of his lips curling down.

“Good,” you grinned with hatred.

“Now now, no need to be mean to our Taetae.” Jimin squatted before you, stroking your cheek even when you flinched your face away with disgust.

“No need to be fucking weirdos either, if you want to kill me do it already.” And then you literally spat on Jimin’s face, but to your horror and disgust he grinned wide tasting your drool with his tongue.

You wanted to throw up at the nasty sight.

“Sweetheart, we don’t want to hurt you, even less kill you,” chuckled lowly Jungkook behind you, his grip on your waist tightened a little.

“What? But Jimin said-“

“I didn't say anything, silly. You didn't even let me finish before running away,” Jimin sighed standing up, getting out of the living room and leaving you there feeling totally lost.

“Then… why are you guys doing this?” You whispered weakly, feeling way more unease than before.

“You’ll see.” Whispered back Taehyung near your ear, chuckling when you flinched.

And you did see it.

Jimin dragged your parent’s tied bodies to the floor of the living room, making your stomach sink with horror and dread.

“We came here to kill them.” Grinned proudly Jimin, kicking your dad’s side when he tried to wiggle out of his ties.

“Why!? Leave them alone they did nothing wrong!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, so loud that your throat hurt.

Jimin’s face morphed into an enraged scowl. He walked towards you in two large steps, gripping your chin up roughly. His jaw was set and his gaze hard.

“Shut up, before I cut your tongue.” He hissed with fury swimming in his brown eyes.

You whimpered afraid, recoiling into Jungkook’s chest unconsciously. Jimin’s always been scary when he’s pissed off, but never to this point.

Jimin’s face softened immediately at your fearful expression, you saw a hint of regret in his gaze.

“Hey, don’t scare her.” Jungkook snapped soothing you when you cried, he hugged you tightly. But his soft kiss on your temple didn’t comfort you at all, it only made you wailed harder with disgust.

“Puh-please just… leave us alone, what do you want?” You asked with labored breaths, you looked up hopeless at Jimin.

“Hyung,” warned Taehyung darkly. He sounded on edge by your cries.

“We want you.” Said Jimin with a cold voice.

“And we’re pissed at your parents for lying to you about us.” Continued Jungkook with a thick angered voice.

“So, we came here to teach them a lesson.” Grinned widely Taehyung like a sadist.

It was nothing new that your parents didn’t like your friends, they always told you to get away from them. You never listened to your parents because you thought they were saying bullshit, but you damn regretted not listening to them. They were right about these sickos.

“So you just want me.” You deadpan.

“Yep.” You listened behind you.

“Okay fine, do whatever you want with me. But. Let. Them. Go.” You gritted between teeth, pointing at your parents passed out on the floor.

The living room went silent at your words, the hush made you feel unease.

Jimin squatted in front of you again, this time, giving you the meanest and sadistic grin you’ve ever seen before.

“Take her up.” He ordered lowly, piercing his heavy and intimidating gaze on you, then his eyes dropped slowly to stare at your naked torso, gaze darkening and fixated on your chest. You felt your cheeks heating up by embarrassment, you felt self-conscious.

Your throat lump and your stomach turned when Jungkook carried you up to your room. Taehyung coo when he saw your silent tears streaming from your eyes.

Jungkook laid you down on the mattress rather softly, making your heart shatter. They were your best friends. The acid betrayal you felt burning your chest and throat was too painful to bear.

You weren’t surprised when you saw your SIM card on your nightstand.

“Stop looking so miserable, we’re not hurting you.” Jungkook said on the defensive. His scowl only angered you, but another part of you enjoyed to see that your disgust affected him.

“You fucking hurt my parents, chase me in my own house and manipulated me to let you fuck me! I have all the right in the world to feel and look miserable!” You felt your vocal cords ripping by your loud scream.

Jungkook and you stared at each other with labored breaths, you didn’t break your gaze in challenge, until you heard Jimin’s giggles.

“Tied her to the bed,” he said with a smile, making your stomach turn.

You closed your eyes, if they wanted to have their way with you, so it be. But you’ll be just a dull body under them, you choose to dissociate rather than to be present for them.

“None of that, open your eyes.” Taehyung growled gripping harshly your chin.

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand wrapping your neck, making your eyes open in a flash.

And the image above you freeze your entire body.

The three of them were staring down at you with hunger on their eyes, you saw their pretty faces coming closer to yours, smiling like the devils they were.

Ready to wreck you.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg

[throatgoat4u]

breakfast

word count: 10k

summary: matt moves to la and ghosts you, breaking your heart, but when the opportunity arises, you decide to get your revenge

warnings: emotional abuse, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, toxic relationships, exploitation of vulnerability, heavy emotional distress

a/n: guys this might be a long read...... also this is for @bernardsbendystraws song writing challenge thingy. i'm actually shocked i was able to even write this cause like i'm lazy and procrastinate a lot and the fact that the challenge had a deadline too?!?! i'm amazed. i worked pretty hard on this one and i think this just might be one of my favorite things i've written. ps and by the way, i will be calling the reader cherry in this so that's what people will call her and what she introduces herself as! also one last detail, this doesn't happen in the span of like a few weeks or like 1-2 months, this story takes place in the span of like almost a year. so yeah... enjoy!

toodles sluts :)

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now, his life a complete mess, there was nothing sweeter. and the best part? it was all because of you.

four years ago, the two of you were in high school. you and matt had this sort of relationship where you did practically everything like a couple—going on dates, giving gifts, whispering sweet nothings to each other, cuddling, kissing, the pda, fucking—but you were never actually official. matt didn’t do labels until he was sure. and you, like the naive girl you were, went right along with it, telling him you’d wait until he was ready.

he had promised you the world, swore up and down that you were the only one who truly understood him. it’s you and me against the world, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that? but they were all lies. lies, lies, lies. the only thing that high school failure was good at was lying—and making it sound so convincing. and you? you had been dumb enough to believe every word.

when you two graduated, he left for la to pursue youtube with his brothers, and naturally, he fed you more lies. baby, i’ll come visit you every few months. we’ll call and text every single day, i swear. i’d never leave you, you know that, right? i love you.

it still astonished you how easily those words had slipped from his lips, how effortlessly he could say them without meaning a damn thing. but the saddest part? you ate it all up like a starving man who hadn’t eaten in years. you believed every single word because—why wouldn’t you? he was the love of your life.

for a while after the move, you and matt stayed in touch, talking almost every second. ten-hour calls, facetime marathons, endless text messages—the works. but slowly, you noticed the shift. he started withdrawing, calling less, ending conversations quicker, taking longer to reply—or not replying at all. when he did, it was just to blow you off. i’m busy. shit, sorry, next time. and you bought it. of course you did. he had just moved to la, and being an influencer wasn’t easy. you gave him the benefit of the doubt.  that was—until he just stopped. he never replied. all calls and texts went unanswered. he had ghosted you.

you were left utterly broken. he had promised you so, so much. you two were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together. you were supposed to be endgame.

but the wallowing didn’t last long.

one day, you opened instagram to find a post—matt shamelessly making out with some girl at a party. a flood of emotions hit you all at once. sadness, confusion, hurt, betrayal. but most of all—anger.

how could you have been so blind? you gave him everything. your time, your trust, your heart. and he threw it all away like it was nothing.

you weren’t going to let it slide.

so you started planning.

now, four years later, you executed it perfectly. it wasn’t easy—oh no, it was tedious. every step had to work seamlessly for the next to fall into place. one wrong move and the entire plan would collapse.

and what plan exactly?

well, in theory, it was a very simple nine-phase plan. you didn’t even mean for the tenth phase to happen, but it did.

phase one: move to la

this was easy. you had finished college with a degree in fashion marketing, and job offers from la weren’t exactly uncommon. all you had to do was pick the highest-paying, most reputable one, and you were on your way.

you settled into the city faster than you expected. the air was thick with ambition, the streets buzzing with influencers and socialites desperate to be seen. it was a world fueled by image, where clout mattered more than character. and if you played your cards right, it was a world where you could thrive.

phase one: complete

phase two: befriend an influencer (preferably one with connections to matt, preferably tara yummy)

why tara yummy? simple. she threw some of the biggest parties in la, meaning tons of other influencers—some of whom could have connections to matt—would be there.

befriending tara? well, that was a process. you had to admit, you stooped to some pretty unethical and borderline pathetic measures to make it happen. and all for what? revenge on a boy. pathetic.

still, you stalked her obsessively, tracking where she would be and when. you knew her schedule for every day of the week—surprising, right? like, tara yummy having an actual schedule? technically, no. but she did go to the same coffee shop every day at exactly 12:43 p.m.

why 12:43? who the fuck cares? as long as you could follow her to her next location, you were fine with whatever time she picked for her little coffee rendezvous.

saturday, february 15, 12:42 p.m.

you were parked outside the coffee shop, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, the hum of the engine filling the silence. your eyes flickered to the time on your phone.

what if she decided to go somewhere else today? what if something came up? had you picked the wrong day?

then, at exactly 12:44, you spotted her—rushing inside, her oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, phone in one hand, car keys in the other.

you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding, watching as she ordered her iced oat milk shaken espresso with one pump white mocha, one pump caramel, light cinnamon powder, and vanilla sweet cream cold foam. (don’t ask.)

when she finally got her coffee and walked out, you turned on your car, keeping an eye on her as she made her way back to hers. now, all that was left was to follow her—hopefully to somewhere public where "accidentally" running into her wouldn’t be suspicious.

you waited a few moments before pulling out behind her, keeping a safe distance—close enough to track her, but not close enough to look like you were tailing her.

she drove for about ten minutes before pulling into target’s parking lot.

your eyes lit up almost instantly. perfect.

you parked a few spots away on the opposite side, ensuring a clear view of her. watching carefully, you waited until she stepped out of her car and started toward the entrance before making your move.

inside, you immediately noticed—no basket.

an idea formed in your head.

you trailed behind her, watching as she browsed the aisles, picking up items—a blanket, a book, some makeup, shampoo, conditioner—until her hands were completely full. she stumbled a bit, dropping things occasionally.

this was it. your chance.

you turned down an aisle, walking toward her while she unknowingly walked in your direction. just as you neared her, you looked down at your phone—pretending not to see her—before crashing right into her.

her things tumbled to the floor, and you let your phone slip from your hands for added effect.

"oh my god! i-i’m so sorry, are you okay?" you asked, putting on the best fake concerned voice you could.

she looked up at you and smiled. "yeah, no, i’m okay. how about you?"

"i-i’m fine, don’t worry about me. i’m so, so sorry again. i should’ve been paying attention."

"hey, no, don’t be sorry. it wasn’t really your fault. hell, it wasn’t really either of our faults," she said, laughing as she bent down to pick up her stuff. but you beat her to it.

"no, here, let me get that for you," you said, gathering her things. as you handed them back, you put on a puzzled expression. "wait, you don’t have a basket?"

she shook her head, and you tsked softly before placing each item into yours.

"what are you—" she began, but you cut her off.

"no, it’s okay. i didn’t really have anything in my basket anyway. it’d probably be more useful to you," you said, handing it to her.

she smiled, taking it from you. "stop, thank you so much, you’re so sweet."

"no, stop. it’s really nothing, i don’t mind," you replied, playing it off casually. then, after a brief pause, you added, "oh, and by the way, you’re like… really, really pretty."

"o.m.g. shut up. like, actually. you’re too sweet," she giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"no, i’m dead serious. you’re gorgeous."

"well, you too. like, oh god, you look like one of those really hot girls i see who just seem so unapproachable and intimidating," she mused, eyeing you up and down.

"why, thank you," you replied with the kindest smile you could muster. "sorry if this interaction is kinda awkward… i’m new to la and sort of looking to make friends." you lowered your voice a little, trying to sound just the right amount of shy.

her eyes widened, and her mouth parted slightly. "well, consider me your first friend. i’m tara."

"…cherry," you responded.

"nice to meet you, cherry. c’mon. you’ll be walking with me now," she smiled, grabbing your hand and dragging you along.

phase two: complete.

phase three: get invited to a tara event

over the next few weeks, you spent most of your time with tara, considering she was your only friend.

you went shopping together, got your nails done, hit the gym, had spa days, and she even showed you all the best clubs and bars in la. the two of you really hit it off, and it kinda made you feel bad that you were using her. kinda.

wednesday, march 5, 2:54 pm

you and tara were sitting on her bed, planning out her next big party. but this party wasn’t just any party—it was for you. she wanted to throw an event so you could branch out and meet new people because, being a loner in la? yeah, no, you weren’t going to let that happen. especially not with your plan in motion. if you stayed invisible, everything would be ruined. matt would win, and you'd lose once again.

"so, um… tara… how big is this party going to be, exactly?" you asked, carefully faking a nervous tone as you sat cross-legged on her bed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. you needed to convince her you were an introvert. playing that part would help you blend into the background and make it easier to focus on your real goal.

tara barely looked up from her phone, scrolling through pinterest, tapping on various pins as she pulled ideas for the event. “well, i’m inviting the usual crowd, so it won’t be too big,” she replied casually. “just enough to get the party vibes right.”

"right..." you sighed, casting a quick glance at the laptop screen, pretending to chew your lip nervously. your act was flawless, but the truth was, you weren’t anxious about being around people—you were just anxious about matt. you knew him all too well, and if he didn’t show up, everything would fall apart. matt was a big homebody, after all. if he didn’t come, you’d have a much harder time achieving your goal.

you needed to know exactly who matt would hang around at the party, and that meant focusing on his closest friends. it was a given that he'd stick close to his girlfriend, macy, but you had to make sure you pinpointed the others—the ones who would be your best shot at making things happen.

the two of you spent the rest of the day bouncing ideas around for the party. tara wanted to host it at her place, and you both decided on a theme—black, white, and a rich, dark red. it was bold, dramatic—something that would definitely make a statement.

tara had already invited a ton of people. for her, it was just another night to throw a party, another chance to be around her usual influencer crowd. but for you, this was more than just a party. this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to matt's friends and, eventually, get closer to matt himself—so you could finally tear him down.

“so, who all did you invite?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your mind was already mentally listing off everyone who might be there.

tara smirked, eyes flicking up from her phone as she responded, “oh, you know, the usual bunch. larray, quen, carrington, jake, johnnie… some of the other la influencers. then, of course, there’s the triplets—matt, chris, and nick.”

you nodded along, your expression neutral, though internally, you were bracing yourself. you already knew the triplets, of course. but this party wasn’t about them. it was about the other people who would be there.

“that’s a lot of people,” you said, trying to keep your voice light, but your mind was already working overtime. “what’s the vibe like with everyone? how do they all mix?”

tara shrugged nonchalantly as she tapped away at her phone, her attention already shifting back to the planning. “honestly, they’re all chill. some can be a little extra—like, really extra—but nothing you can’t handle. you’ll fit right in. just make sure you make an entrance, you know?”

you gave her a knowing smile, nodding along, though your mind was elsewhere. you weren’t here to fit in. you were here to observe, to learn who matt’s closest friends were, to subtly insert yourself into their world. and then, you’d take him down. piece by piece, without him even realizing it.

this party was just the beginning.

phase three: complete

phase four: figure out just who’s in matt’s inner circle

you looked in the mirror as you fixed your hair, making sure everything was just right. the tight black dress hugged your hips in all the right places, the slit riding high enough to leave barely anything to the imagination. your hair was perfectly blown out, sleek and cascading down your back like silk. but still, something was missing.

your eyes landed on the red lipstick sitting on the vanity. you grabbed it, uncapping it with a flick of your wrist before carefully applying it to your lips. the deep, sultry shade coated them perfectly, adding just the right amount of boldness to complete the look.

perfect.

you pressed your lips together, ensuring the color was flawless. now, you were ready.

tara walked into the room, and her jaw practically hit the floor. her eyes widened as she took you in, her gaze trailing from your perfectly blown-out hair to the curve-hugging black dress and the deep red lipstick that added just the right amount of danger.

“oh my god.” her voice was barely above a whisper before it quickly turned into an excited squeal. “cherry, you look stunning! you might’ve just been my lesbian awakening because what the fuck?!?” she said, walking toward you with wide eyes.

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you turned slightly to check yourself in the mirror one last time. “oh, shut up,” you mumbled, but the slight flush on your cheeks betrayed you.

“no, no, i’m being dead serious.” she placed her hands on her hips, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “like, i cannot believe you’ve been hiding this version of you. you look gorgeous.”

“thanks, t,” you murmured softly, your lips tugging into a small, satisfied smile. but before you could revel in the compliment for too long, tara’s expression shifted.

“but,” she said, her tone a little more serious now, “i actually came up here to tell you a lot of people are here now. i know you’re not the party type, but… it’s your party. you need to come down.”

you almost laughed out loud at that. not the party type? oh, if only she knew. at least you’d done a good enough job convincing her that you were shy and reserved. it was all part of the plan.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you mumbled, tugging your dress down ever so slightly, playing up the nervous act just a bit longer. “can… can you come with me? and maybe… stay with me? i don’t really want to be alone with so many people around.” your voice was soft, almost timid, as if the idea of walking into a crowded room made you anxious.

tara’s features softened instantly, her eyes filling with warmth as she gave you a reassuring smile. “of course i’ll stay with you,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. “i won’t leave you alone for a single moment tonight, ‘kay?”

you nodded, offering her a small, grateful smile as you took a deep breath.

perfect.

you followed tara as she began to walk out of the room, her arm loosely linked with yours as the two of you made your way downstairs. the muffled bass of the music grew louder with each step, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting through the hallway.

as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you scanned the room quickly, your mind already working.

the party was in full swing. influencers, tiktokers, and la’s finest were scattered everywhere, drinks in hand and smiles plastered on their faces.

but you weren’t interested in any of them.

your eyes swept the crowd, zeroing in on the people who mattered most. matt’s friends.

they weren’t hard to spot. matt—whenever he did decide to show up at events like these—always stuck close to the people he felt most comfortable with. usually, that meant nick, chris, and a couple of his closest friends. and tonight was no different.

one person caught your eye almost immediately. larray.

he was laughing, completely immersed in whatever conversation he was having. matt had never looked happier in a group of people and it was sort of like a stab to your heart but you quickly shook the feeling off, refocusing on the small group that surrounded matt. nick, chris, larray… and macy.

macy. matt’s new girlfriend.

the girl who had everything you ever wanted.

she was perched right beside him, her hand casually resting on his arm like it belonged there. she looked so comfortable, so secure in her place next to him. it made your stomach turn.

but not with sadness.

with determination.

there they were—laughing, chatting, blissfully unaware that they were about to become pawns in your little game.

but timing was everything.

you weren’t about to make your move too soon. not when there was so much at stake. so, for now, you waited.

you stuck close to tara, mingling with other guests and keeping up appearances. you laughed at jokes, smiled at compliments, and made small talk with influencers you barely cared about. to anyone watching, you looked like you were just another girl trying to blend into la’s social scene.

but your focus never strayed too far.

your eyes flicked back to matt’s group every chance you got, tracking their every move without being obvious.

nick and chris were in their usual spots, close to matt but engaged in their own conversations. larray was his usual vibrant self, effortlessly making everyone around him laugh. and macy… well, she was glued to matt’s side, just as expected.

you kept waiting, biding your time as the night dragged on.

and then, finally, it happened.

matt, nick, and chris stepped away, heading toward the backyard—probably to get some air or escape the chaos for a moment.

perfect.

your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“tara,” you murmured softly, leaning closer so only she could hear, “i’m gonna go grab another drink. be right back.”

“want me to come with?” she asked, her eyes flickering toward the crowded bar area.

“nah,” you smiled, shaking your head. “i’ll be fine.”

she nodded, giving you an encouraging smile before turning back to her conversation.

and with that, you made your move.

your eyes locked onto larray, who was still standing near the bar, chatting and laughing with a few other people.

game on.

you made your way to the bar, grabbing some random drink that had been left unattended, and started to move toward larray. you made sure to stumble a bit, really selling the whole oops, i’m tipsy act. when you were close enough, you “tripped,” falling forward and spilling your drink all over him.

“shit. my bad. i didn’t mean to do that. i’m so sorry. are you alright?” you asked frantically, eyes darting around for anything to help. you spotted a napkin nearby and quickly handed it to him.

“yeah, i’m okay. chill, girl, damn!” he said, laughing it off as he wiped the drink off his shirt, giving you a playful side-eye.

“gosh, i’m sorry. i might be a little more drunk than i thought. i usually don’t trip over my feet like this,” you mumbled, shifting nervously.

“bitch, it’s okay. i promise, it’s not that deep. my clothes will dry.”

“yeah, i know. but i still feel bad.”

“well, don’t.” he waved you off, flashing you that bright, easy smile. “anyways, i’ve never seen you ‘round. you new here or what?”

“uh, yeah. i moved to la about a month ago for my job.”

he hummed, grabbing his drink off the table and taking a sip. “what do you do?”

“i actually work in fashion marketing.”

his eyes widened instantly, his interest clearly piqued. “wait, so like… do you get all the tea on the brands? tell me everything.”

you giggled softly, shaking your head. “sadly, not yet. i just started. but, trust me, you’ll be the first to know when they let me in on all the juicy shit.”

“you better.” he gave you a pointed look, but his grin was playful.

“cross my heart.” you smirked, making a little x over your chest.

“mm, i like you already.” he gave you a wink before glancing around the room. “but, babe, why are you stuck talking to me when there’s a whole party happening?”

“honestly?” you shrugged, flashing him a sheepish smile. “you’re the most interesting person here.”

“aww, stop it, i’m blushing.” he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh.

“seriously, though,” he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice, “stick with me tonight, and i’ll make sure you have fun.”

perfect.

throughout the entire night, you stayed glued to larray’s side. he was the perfect guide to la’s influencer scene, introducing you to a lot of people—some of whom you already recognized from social media. but your focus wasn’t on them.

no, your interest was piqued when he introduced you to madison and quen.

it quickly became clear to you that they were probably the closest people to matt—along with larray.

you watched closely, noting the way they spoke about him, the way they laughed at inside jokes that only came from years of friendship. it was subtle, but the familiarity was there.

these were the people who mattered.

and they were exactly who you needed to get close to next.

you slipped seamlessly into conversation with them, playing up the charm and matching their energy effortlessly. it was easy, really—madison was sweet and warm, and quen? well, she was sharp, funny, and didn’t seem to take shit from anyone.

by the end of the night, you weren’t just some random girl who just moved to la. no, you were now on their radar.

the party came to a wrap and as you exchanged goodbyes and promises to hang out soon, you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself.

they had no idea what was coming.

phase four: complete.

phase five: get close to macy

you realized at the party that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to try and talk to macy because she didn’t leave matt’s side once, and matt would’ve immediately recognized you if he had seen you, which would’ve completely jeopardized the plan.

see, the thing is, macy is a model, and your agency just so happened to be looking for some new faces. after the party, you made sure to keep macy in the back of your mind because you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be working with her in person. it wasn’t long before you got the chance—both of you were assigned to the same photoshoot for a big brand that the agency was promoting.

the first time you saw her in person, she was a lot quieter than you expected. maybe it was because she was surrounded by other models and people she worked with, but she didn’t seem nearly as outgoing as she came off on social media. you had no intention of just jumping in to get to know her right away, but you did make sure to get in a few casual hellos and comments about how excited you were to be working with her.

the shoot itself was long, and there were a lot of down moments while the crew set up shots or adjusted lighting, which gave you plenty of time to talk. you started by talking about the job itself—what it was like working with the agency, the constant hustle, and how draining it all could be. at first, macy wasn’t very open, giving you short answers, but you could tell she was warming up.

after a few hours of talking about everything from the industry to personal stuff, you noticed she seemed a little more relaxed around you. when the crew took a break, you casually offered to grab coffee with her, making sure it didn’t seem like you were trying too hard. macy agreed, and the two of you grabbed a quick coffee from a nearby shop.

over the next few weeks, you found more opportunities to work together, whether it was at another photoshoot or event. each time, you made sure to keep the conversation going, offering small, relatable advice about the industry and connecting on more personal levels. she started confiding in you more—about the pressure to maintain a certain image, the loneliness that came with constantly being on the go, and how hard it was to find genuine friends in a world full of fake ones.

you didn’t push her. you just listened, offering support when needed and being someone she could trust. eventually, she started to reach out to you first, asking for your opinion on various things, and you could tell she was beginning to see you as a friend, not just another coworker.

the real turning point came when the agency booked you both for a big event. during the event, things were relaxed enough that you had a chance to talk one-on-one. this was when you dropped the suggestion—about how your agency had been looking for fresh faces for future campaigns and how they were always interested in bringing in new talent. it was subtle, but effective. macy took the bait, and the next time you talked, she mentioned she’d been thinking about it and was considering taking the next step.

the seed had been planted. you’d gotten closer to her, built the trust, and now you had her in the perfect position. it wasn’t long before macy was fully onboard with the agency's next big campaign, and just like that, your plan was moving forward.

things were falling into place—slowly, but surely.

phase five: complete.

phase six: start spreading the rumors

now that you were getting closer to macy, madison, and quen, it was time to move to phase six of the plan: spreading rumors. subtle, harmless ones at first, ones that wouldn’t immediately seem like an attack, but that would eventually create tension in matt’s friend group. you knew matt’s friends well enough to know that they would start questioning his actions if the right things were said at the right time.

you decided to start with larray. after all, he was the easiest to get to. you’d spent a good amount of time with him, and he was an open book—always down to gossip and willing to listen. it didn’t take much for you to casually bring up the fact that you’d heard a little something about matt during one of your late-night conversations.

“so, like, i don’t know if i’m the only one who’s noticed, but…” you’d start, lowering your voice, like you were sharing some kind of secret. larray, always keen on gossip, would immediately lean in.

“what? spill it,” he’d say, raising an eyebrow.

you’d shake your head, pretending to hesitate. “it’s probably nothing, but i’ve been hearing stuff about matt… like, he’s been kinda distant lately. i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but i heard he was kinda flaky at the last couple of events. like, not showing up or leaving early.”

larray’s expression would shift slightly, as though he was mulling it over, but he wouldn’t say much at first. you could tell he was processing the information. the next time he was hanging out with matt and the crew, he’d likely file that tidbit away in the back of his mind.

from there, you’d move on to madison. she was always more perceptive, more cautious about things, but you were good at working your way into people’s trust. one day, as you sat together, sipping your drinks, you’d casually bring up something you’d overheard.

“you know, i’ve noticed matt’s been kinda off lately. like, i don’t know if it’s just me, but he seems different. like, more withdrawn? you know, i’ve been hearing that he’s been talking behind people’s backs about his friends.”

madison would pause, taking a sip from her own drink, but her eyes would narrow just a little. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him,” she’d say. “who’s he been talking about?”

“i mean, i don’t know if it’s about any one person specifically, but i’ve heard him say stuff about the larray before. not, like, bad stuff, but, like, you know, a little judgmental. he’s always got something to say when he’s not around, which is kinda weird, right?”

madison would probably just shrug it off at first, but you'd know that this type of gossip would linger in the back of her mind, especially when she started noticing the little things that seemed off in matt’s behavior.

last but not least, you’d work on quen. she was sharp, observant, and you knew that getting her to trust you enough to believe what you were saying would be a challenge. but you were up for it. your approach would be a little more direct with her.

one afternoon, you’d be hanging out, and you’d make sure to mention something that would start getting her wheels turning.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but matt’s been acting really off lately. like, he’s not as, i don’t know, present? when he’s around the group, it’s like he’s just not… engaged. he’s distant. i heard him say some weird stuff about how he feels like he’s outgrown a lot of the people around him.”

quen would furrow her brows, not immediately responding. “outgrown? huh. that’s… odd. i mean, he’s always been the one trying to keep everyone together.”

“right? and now he’s just, like, pulling away. it’s strange. especially with how close he used to be with everyone.” you’d pause and look at her, as if genuinely concerned, adding, “maybe i’m reading too much into it, but it’s not just me noticing.”

quen would likely stay quiet for a moment, processing it, but deep down, she’d start to think about it. the next time she was with matt, she'd start paying more attention to the way he interacted with the group. the little things would start to show.

with each of them—larray, madison, and quen—you carefully planted just enough doubt to make them start second-guessing matt’s intentions, his loyalty, and his true feelings toward his friends. nothing too drastic at first, just small seeds of uncertainty. but soon enough, the tension would begin to rise. they’d start noticing what they hadn’t before.

and once they did, it would only be a matter of time before matt’s world began to shift.

you let the information sit with them for a while before starting to up the stakes—making the rumors a bit more… compromising.

“girl, don’t even get me started. i heard matt’s been real weird lately,” you say casually, swirling the straw in your drink as you sit next to larray. it’s subtle, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

“uh-uh, hold up.” larray’s eyes widen as he sets his drink down, giving you that signature side-eye. “what do you mean weird? like… weird weird or just matt-being-a-man weird? ‘cause you know these men don’t know how to act.”

you let out a small, dramatic sigh, playing it off like you don’t want to say too much. “i mean… i don’t know, it’s probably nothing. just heard he’s been kinda distant with macy lately. you didn’t notice?”

“not you trying to soft launch tea and then leaving me hanging,” larray gasps, placing a hand on his chest. “spill, bitch. don’t play with me like that.”

“nooo, it’s not that serious!” you laugh, shaking your head. “just… i saw him the other day and he barely acknowledged her. like, he was all up on his phone the whole time. it was just… weird.”

“not him treating macy like she’s on do not disturb,” larray snorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “ugh, men are so exhausting. they can’t even pretend to care when they’re in public. disgusting.”

you shrug, acting nonchalant, but you know his perception of matt was changing.

onto madison

one night, when you and madison were grabbing drinks after work, you casually brought up matt’s name again, this time in a more pointed way.

“you know, i think i’ve been seeing something with matt,” you’d say, your voice almost too casual, too innocent. “well, not me personally, but macy has been telling me all these things about how matt’s being all secretive with her and stuff. like recently, that’s been our whole topic of conversation while we’re at work. she tells me he’s on his phone more often and how he’s always so dismissive of her questions when she asks him why he’s been distant lately. i don’t know ‘bout you, but it sounds like to me that he might be seeing someone on the sid

madison frowned, clearly uncomfortable. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him at all.”

you’d nod, looking concerned. “yeah, i don’t know, but it’s been bugging me. i mean, macy doesn’t deserve that. and maybe he isn’t cheating. but why is he still being weird towards her.”

“yeah no, that’s really fucked up.” madison says, feeling a little sad for macy

“i know i shouldn’t be telling macy’s business like that but it was gnawing at me. and what’s worse is that macy doesn’t even consider that he could possibly be cheating on her. like i don’t know. i just- do you promise not to tell anyone?” you ask, trying your best to sound like you’ve been overcome with guilt.

madison nods, giving you a soft smile. “baby, of course i won’t tell anyone. secrets safe with me. in the end, these could all be rumors and a shit ton of overthinking so i wouldn’t really jump to conclusions but i’d definitely keep it in the back of my mind.”

you nod, returning the smile. “thanks. you’re a really good friend.”

“anytime”

you’d pulled off larray and madison, now all you had left for this round of rumors was quen.

after one evening, when you and quen were hanging out after work, you casually said, “have you noticed something with matt?”

quen raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, it’s just… i’ve noticed that matt is just… different. but like only with one person.”

her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she tilted her head slightly. “who?”

“macy.” you said carefully, like her name was some sort of taboo subject. “it’s weird. he’s like a whole different person when she’s not around. like i feel like he’s more of himself when he’s away from her. when she comes around though, he gets all agitated and annoyed. i might be reading into shit but like… i don’t know.”

quen scoffed, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice. “that sounds like some weird shit, honestly.”

“yeah, i mean, it’s not like macy hasn’t caught on either,” you’d say. “she has! but she’s kinda brushing it off, choosing to ignore it. i just feel like she’s making excuses for him. god i just- i feel bad.”

“well who wouldn’t? like no one should treat their girlfriend like she’s trapping them.”

“yeah no, it’s bad. could you like… not mention this to her. she just- she gets all defensive and mad and she’ll probably realize i told you and i’m not trying to be messy i just needed to get this off my chest and stuff.”

“girl i gotchu. don’t worry.”

“thanks.” you mumble.

now it was time for the even bigger ones. the rumors that would really leave them questioning matt.

you sat beside larray, pretending to scroll through your phone as if what you were about to say was nothing. casual. just another piece of gossip in la.

“okay, so tell me why macy was saying matt’s been so busy with filming and working yesterday’s problem lately,” you murmured, keeping your tone light but just loud enough for larray to catch it.

larray raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “mmm, okay… and?”

you sighed dramatically, like you didn’t want to be messy but just had to spill. “and… quen told me she saw him at a bar the other night.” you paused for effect, giving larray a pointed look. “like… not the filimg. not working on his project. a bar.”

larray’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly. “bitch, what?!” he blinked, processing the information before shaking his head. “oh no. not this man lying through his motherfucking teeth and playing her in her face.”

“right?” you scoffed, biting your lip to hide the satisfied smirk threatening to form. “i mean, maybe there’s a good explanation, but… doesn’t it seem kinda weird?”

larray leaned back, crossing his arms, and gave you a look. “girl, ain’t no way. if my man told me he was working but was out getting going to bars n shit? he’d be single faster than he could even say single.”

“i knowwww,” you drawled, shaking your head, “but macy doesn’t suspect a thing.”

larray sucked his teeth, already mentally adding this to his list of things to bring up later. “ugh, these men. always something. i swear.”

you nodded, pretending to be concerned, but deep down, you knew this was exactly what you needed.

a few days after your conversation with larray, you decided that you’d get madison again. you and madison found yourselves grabbing drinks again, just like before. but this time? you came prepared even more.

“so… remember what i told you about matt last time?” you started, swirling your straw around in your drink, eyes carefully avoiding madison’s as if you were hesitant to even bring it up.

madison’s expression shifted, her brows furrowing slightly. “yeah… what about it?”

you bit your lip, leaning in a little closer like you were about to spill something big. “okay, so… i wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause i didn’t wanna let macy’s business out into the open again, but… i’ve got more shit on that situation.”

madison’s eyes widened slightly. “girl, what happened?”

you sighed, feigning reluctance, but you wanted this. “so, macy mentioned something again the other day. she said matt’s been going out more—late nights, no explanation, just saying it’s ‘work stuff.’ but like… get this. when she asked him about it, he got defensive. like, super weird.”

madison’s frown deepened, concern flickering across her face. “defensive? over what though?”

“exactly!” you leaned back, arms crossed as if you were just as confused. “like, why get all worked up if you’ve got nothing to hide? and… i don’t know, macy mentioned she checked his location once and he wasn’t even where he said he’d be. she brushed it off, but…” you trailed off, letting the weight of your words hang between you.

madison’s lips pressed into a thin line. “no… that’s shady as hell. if he’s lying about where he’s at?” she shook her head. “girl, that’s not a good sign.”

“right?” you gave her a look that said you get it. “i mean, maybe it’s nothing… but macy’s too trusting. she doesn’t wanna believe he’d do anything like that. but…” you paused, lowering your voice slightly, “what if he is?”

madison’s jaw tightened, her protective instincts clearly kicking in. “ugh, poor macy. i hate that she’s going through this.”

you nodded, your expression perfectly laced with fake concern. “same. that’s why i told you… i didn’t wanna keep it bottled up. but, you know, i just… i feel bad keeping it all to myself.”

“no, no,” madison said softly, shaking her head. “i’m glad you told me. i’ll… i’ll keep an eye on things.”

after that night, things started falling into place exactly how you wanted.  

a week or so later, you and quen were hanging out again, this time lounging at her apartment after a long day. casual vibes, just the two of you unwinding, but your mind? it was working overtime.  

you waited until the conversation lulled, until the timing felt just right before you spoke up, your tone light but laced with just enough concern to hook her.  

“so… remember what i told you about matt and macy the other day?” you said, fiddling absentmindedly with your phone like it wasn’t that big of a deal.  

quen glanced over, her interest piqued immediately. “uh, yeah. why? what’s up?”  

you sighed, leaning back against the couch like this was weighing heavy on you. “ugh… i wasn’t gonna say anything else, but i’ve been noticing it *a lot* more now. like, girl… it’s bad.”  

quen’s brows furrowed, her attention fully locked in now. “how bad are we talking?”  

“like… okay, so macy told me that matt’s been avoiding spending too much time with her lately,” you started, keeping your voice low and almost hesitant, like you were scared of even saying it. “she says he’s been making excuses. work, friends, whatever. but get this…” you paused for dramatic effect, watching quen lean in a little closer. “the other day? she said they were supposed to hang out, but matt bailed last minute, saying he had something with the boys. but… quen…” you bit your lip, looking conflicted.  

“what?” quen pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly.  

“one of my friends saw him that night. and he wasn’t with nick or chris,” you said, lowering your voice. “he was *with another girl.*”  

quen’s jaw dropped, her expression flipping from curiosity to full-blown disbelief. “*bitch, what?!*”  

“i know,” you murmured, shaking your head like you hated even saying it. “i didn’t believe it at first either. but then i heard it from *two* people. like… what the fuck is going on?”  

quen sat up straighter, her lips pursed in frustration. “nah, that’s wild. and macy doesn’t know?”  

“nope,” you said softly, shaking your head. “and i don’t know if i should be the one to tell her. i mean, she’s already brushing off so much. she’d probably just think i’m stirring shit.”  

quen’s face hardened, her protective side flaring up. “that’s some *bullshit.* she deserves to know if matt’s acting shady like that.”  

“i know,” you sighed, looking down, feigning conflict. “but… i don’t wanna be the one to ruin things, you know? i just… i don’t know what to do.”  

quen shook her head, clearly irritated now. “girl, don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye on him. if he’s up to something shady, we’ll know.”  

you gave her a small, grateful smile, nodding. “thanks, quen. i just… i needed to tell someone. this whole thing’s been eating at me.”  

“don’t worry,” quen said firmly, her tone serious. “if that boy’s up to something, he won’t be able to hide it for long.”  

and just like that, the wheels were turning. quen was on high alert now, watching matt like a hawk. you didn’t even have to do anything more—she’d handle the rest.  

phase six: complete

phase seven: introduce macy to the matt treatment

phase seven was the hardest part.

everything up until now had been about laying the groundwork, planting little doubts in everyone’s minds. but this? this was about making macy feel something that wasn’t even real.

the thing is, matt was a great boyfriend. he wasn’t distant, he wasn’t sneaky, and he wasn’t out here treating macy the way he treated you. and that was the problem.

because if macy never felt the way you felt—if she never experienced the gut-wrenching, soul-crushing matt treatment—then she’d never leave him.

and that? that wasn’t part of the plan.

so, you had to get creative.

step one: distance. but not from matt—from macy’s side of things.

it started small.

“girl, why don’t you ever come out with us anymore?” quen had asked her one night after work, and you made sure you were just within earshot.

macy had laughed it off. “ugh, i know. matt and i have just been spending so much time together lately.”

“damn, glued to his hip, huh?” quen had joked, but the seed had been planted.

and you? you watered it.

“you know,” you said softly the next day, when it was just you and macy grabbing coffee, “it’s great that you and matt are so close, but… don’t you miss having time for yourself sometimes?”

macy frowned a little but shrugged. “not really. i like being with him.”

“of course,” you smiled, keeping your tone light. “but… i don’t know. sometimes too much time together can make things feel… suffocating, y’know? like, matt’s great, but maybe a little space wouldn’t hurt?”

she didn’t agree. not yet. but that’s the thing about seeds—they take time to grow.

step two: fake tension.

if matt wasn’t going to create the tension, you’d have to do it for him.

“ugh,” macy groaned one afternoon while scrolling through her phone. “matt’s been so stressed with everything lately.”

you leaned in, feigning concern. “what’s wrong?”

“just the usual… filming, editing, meetings… he’s been overwhelmed.”

you nodded, playing your part perfectly. “yeah… that’s a lot. has he been… different with you because of it?”

macy’s face scrunched up a bit, her mind already working through a scenario that didn’t exist.

“different how?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, keeping it vague on purpose. “sometimes guys get quiet when they’re stressed. pull away a little. they don’t even realize they’re doing it half the time.”

she didn’t say anything after that. but her silence? that was exactly what you wanted.

step three: paranoia.

this was where things got tricky. you had to be subtle, careful not to overplay your hand.

“hey, have you noticed matt texting more lately?” you asked casually one evening, like it was just a passing thought.

macy blinked, looking up from her drink. “huh?”

“oh, nothing,” you waved it off with a smile. “i just… i don’t know. when we were out the other night, i noticed he was on his phone a lot. but it’s probably nothing.”

but it was never nothing.

because now? macy’s mind was already spiraling.

and it worked.

little by little, macy started to feel the things you had felt.

the distance.

the doubt.

the sinking feeling in her gut that something wasn’t quite right, even though matt was still being the same perfect boyfriend he had always been.

but to macy? it wouldn’t feel that way anymore.

because now?

everything felt off.

phase seven: complete.

phase eight: start encouraging macy to break up with matt

phase eight was all about patience.

you knew macy wasn’t ready to let go just yet. she was still holding on, hoping things would get better with matt—even after all the doubts you’d planted.

but that was fine.

because this wasn’t a sprint. it was a marathon.

so you kept playing your part.

you spent more time with her, slowly becoming her confidant.

hangout one: thursday, july 17th, 12:14 pm

another brunch.

macy looked exhausted, her smile just a little less bright than usual.

“you okay?” you asked, keeping your tone light but concerned.

she gave a small shrug, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. “yeah… just tired, i guess.”

you let it go. didn’t push. just offered a soft smile and changed the subject to something easy.

hangout two: wednesday, july 30th, 11:37 pm

a late-night target run.

the conversation was effortless, jumping from one topic to another.

“ugh, i swear, i’m gonna end up living off frozen pizza and sour candy,” you joked, tossing a bag into the cart.

macy laughed, but her response was softer, almost distracted. “at least you know what you like.”

it was nothing. just a passing comment.

hangout three: friday, august 22nd, 10:43 pm

movie night at her place.

you both sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the tv flickering across the room.

“thanks for coming over,” macy murmured, almost too quietly to catch.

“of course,” you said softly, not making a big deal of it.

she didn’t say anything else.

but the way her shoulders relaxed just a little more as the night went on?

that wasn’t nothing.

but none of it stood out.

no lingering looks. no obvious smiles. no heavy silences.

just… a quiet comfort.

she started replying to your texts a little faster.

her invitations to hang out came a little more frequently.

and maybe—maybe—she seemed a little more at ease when it was just the two of you.

but it was subtle.

so subtle that even you didn’t catch it.

because phase eight wasn’t about that.

phase eight was about planting doubt.

and that?

that was working perfectly.

phase eight: complete

phase nine: watch as matt’s life falls apart completely

and this all brings us back to now.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now—his life a complete mess—there was nothing sweeter. and the best part?

it was all because of you.

his friends had all turned their backs on him. larray, madison, quen—they didn’t look at him the same anymore. the doubt you’d planted in their minds had festered, grown, and twisted everything they once believed about matt.

larray? couldn’t trust matt after the whole “bar incident.” he’d barely speak to him now. anytime matt tried to reach out, larray would leave him on read or reply with some dry-ass response that made it painfully obvious he wasn’t interested. and when he did talk to him?

“girl, i’m busy. find someone else to lie to.”

madison? she kept her distance. she hadn’t confronted matt directly, but you could tell she was piecing everything together. the seeds of doubt you’d planted had bloomed beautifully, and now she didn’t even look at matt the same.

quen? she was the most direct.

“nah, matt,” she had said the last time he tried talking to her. “i don’t fuck with that weird shit. you’re different.”

and then there was macy.

sweet, sweet macy.

she had been the hardest to break. her love for matt was deep—genuine. it took time to unravel that.

but you did it.

every rumor. every carefully crafted conversation. every doubt you whispered in her ear.

it all led to this moment.

she had finally broken up with him.

you weren’t there to see it, but you could imagine how it went down. the tears in her eyes, her voice breaking as she confronted him.

“i just… i can’t do this anymore, matt.”

and matt?

probably standing there, dumbfounded, begging her to believe that none of it was true.

but it was too late.

you had made sure of that.

now, matt was left standing in the wreckage of his own life.

his friends? gone. his relationship? over. his reputation? in shambles.

and he had no idea who was pulling the strings.

you stood on the sidelines, watching it all crumble, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips.

all that heartbreak? all that pain?

now, it was his turn to feel it.

and the best part?

he never even saw it coming.

but it wasn’t enough.

watching matt’s life fall apart had been… satisfying. no doubt. but it still didn’t give you the closure you needed. not yet.

because he still didn’t know.

and what fun would it be if he never found out?

no, matt needed to see you—face to face. he needed to look you in the eyes and realize who was behind it all. he needed to feel the weight of everything crashing down around him and know that it was your doing.

you needed that moment.

and as fate would have it, that moment was just around the corner.

macy had left something at matt’s place. she didn’t want to go back for it herself—too painful, too fresh—so, naturally, she asked you to grab it for her.

at first, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. walking back into his space? after everything? but then, you realized…

this was your chance.

you’d have matt all to yourself. no macy. no friends. just you and him.

so, here you were. standing outside his apartment, heart pounding, pulse racing.

you knocked.

once.

twice.

the door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

and he looked like shit.

dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, his expression was… tired. broken.

“cherry?” his voice was barely above a whisper, pure disbelief written all over his face.

you felt a sick sort of satisfaction bloom in your chest.

“matthew. it’s been a while. how’ve you been lately?” you asked, an almost sadistic smirk tugging at your lips.

he blinked, eyes wide, like he was seeing a ghost. “i-i… wha-what are you doing here?” his voice was barely above a whisper, shaky and unsure.

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “you really haven’t figured that out yet?” your hand rested on your hip, your tone dripping with impatience. all this hard work, months of planning, and the boy didn’t even have a damn clue. how rude.

but what was even more insulting? the way this idiot had the nerve to shake his head. “n-no.”

wow.

“ugh, you’re as stupid as ever,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “it was me, goddamn it. i did it. i’m the reason your sad, pathetic life is crumbling to pieces.”

the color drained from his face, eyes widening—not with confusion this time, but pure, unfiltered terror.

“why… why would you do something like that?” he asked, his voice barely holding together.

you rolled your eyes, a bitter laugh slipping out. “god, are you stupid?” your tone dripped with disdain. “you really don’t remember?”

his silence was answer enough.

“jesus christ, matt,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “four years. four fucking years, and you can’t even remember the shit you put me through?”

his lips parted, but no words came out.

“let me refresh your memory then.” you stepped closer, just enough to watch the panic build behind his eyes. “remember high school? how we did everything like a couple but you never wanted to put a label on it? all that ‘i’m not ready for a relationship yet’ bullshit? and me? i was so fucking stupid, i waited. i waited for you.”

matt’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.

“but it didn’t stop there, did it?” you went on, voice dripping with venom. “no, you kept feeding me lies. you’re the only one who gets me, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that?” you scoffed, eyes narrowing. “and like an idiot, i believed it. i believed you.”

his breathing was heavier now, chest rising and falling a little too quickly.

“then you left,” you hissed, your tone colder now. “moved to la. promised we’d make it work, that we’d talk every day, visit whenever we could.” you let out a bitter laugh. “but those calls? they got shorter. the texts? less frequent. until, eventually…” you paused, your gaze hardening as you locked eyes with him.

“you ghosted me.”

his face paled even more, if that was even possible.

“left me wondering what the fuck i did wrong. wondering why i wasn’t enough for you,” your voice cracked, but you swallowed the emotion down, refusing to let him see you break. “and just when i finally started to accept that maybe you weren’t coming back…” you tilted your head, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“i saw the pictures.”

matt’s breath caught in his throat.

“you. at that party. all over her.” the venom in your voice was impossible to miss. “while i was sitting at home, waiting for a text you were never going to send.”

matt opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“and that’s when i realized,” you said, leaning in just enough for your words to cut deeper. “i was never going to be enough for you. but that’s okay. because now?”

you smiled sweetly, though your eyes were anything but kind.

“you’re the one who’s left with nothing.”

you stood there, staring at him for a few seconds, letting the weight of your words sink in. you could see the way he was struggling to process it, the panic mixed with guilt. but it wasn’t your problem anymore. you had done what you came for, and that was all that mattered.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

“god, matt,” you muttered, the contempt thick in your voice. “you really are the worst.”

you turned your back on him, hearing him call your name weakly, but you didn’t stop.

"you're nothing but a liar and a coward," you threw over your shoulder. "so enjoy the mess you made. you deserve every bit of it."

without looking back, you walked towards your car, your heart pounding, but not from anger—no, from a strange kind of satisfaction. for the first time in years, it felt like everything was finally in place. like all the puzzle pieces had clicked together, and you had everything you needed.

you slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. you could still hear him shouting your name, but it didn’t matter anymore. his voice was nothing now.

you put the car in drive, the engine rumbling to life, and slowly pulled away from the curb.

as you made your way home, your mind wandered back to macy.

phase ten

you couldn’t help but smile, the anticipation building. it had been a slow burn, but now, things had shifted in ways you hadn’t even expected. what started as a plan to destroy matt had turned into something much more unexpected. you had gotten under his skin—and now, macy’s too.

the thought of macy, her soft lips against yours, the way she started leaning into you more and more, her touch lingering a little longer than it should’ve—none of it had been planned. but here you were, with a beautiful, broken mess of a boyfriend’s ex, and she was yours now.

you smiled to yourself as you sped down the road, your thoughts consuming you.

phase ten: ravish your new girlfriend's body completely.

and just like that, the plan was over. the game had changed. you didn’t need revenge anymore—you had her.

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

© throatgoat4u

[h1biscusgal]

ASKS IN A BUNDLE BC IM TIRED : PART 3

YESSSS FOR EVERY QUESTION MY LOVE.

NAH ITS OK, WHENEVER THIS HAPPENS? LITERALLY BE DELULU (ik some people say it's bad to say be delusional, i meant don't feed further into it and take it as a funny shit)

i literally know and been there, i have every proof but my mind wants the material, i simply go by my logic where "i don't see oxygen but it's a fact i breathe it, so the same with my DR."

oh my god i'm sorry what the fuck??? first of all my deepest apologies, are you fine now? i seriously get you and understand what you mean, have you confronted him? tell the school if he's in the same school as urs or actually alert someone about it on higher position to take actions, hacking is no funny business no matter how much "ashamed" your posts are (WHICH ARE NOT, NEVER BE ASHAMED MY LOVE, FUCK THEM). keep calm in the meantime and don't panic at all! affirm continuously that everything is under control, and don't let real life threats mix with your mind, good luck!

MWAH I MISSED U MOREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, YESSSSS THIS IS COMMON, it's a state where your mind is actually entering UNAWARE OF ITSELF, but once you say "omg i'm entering" your body will hold u back saying "wtf we are entering? that's not allowed, this only happens when we are unaware." focus on a point or count backwards and simply do WHATEVER you want as long as you keep your mind off it, simply exist and whenever you get the symptoms? be like "oh yeah that's nothing."

OK EASY THING I USED TO DO AND HELPED ME SM: daydream.

no fr, i love daydreaming and imagining scenarios like i'm bayonetta or sm shit (i fucking love netta) anyways, distract yourself gently, feel your body getting pulled back to your senses? be like "oh wait there's another scenario hol up" and go back to it for fun, IGNORING in the best way, but if you're really wanting to get in it without it all, wake up in the dead of the night and try.

I ADORE U SO MUCH MWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ML

THAT'S BEFORE HYPNAGOGIA, hypnagogia is where even when you are numb or see colors, YOU'LL FEEL TRIPPY AND KINDA HIGH.

that's my experience yall, don't come for me,

like i feel being pushed pulled rolled and literally being done everyshit to me, i seriously understand the boredom part but trust me, this time? go and go, affirm and affirm no matter how much it takes, feel bored? imagine what will you say when you wake up and send me a success ask about how you entered and got in! good luck!

FOR REAL UGH, Y'ALL THAT'S LITERALLY IT.

IT IS ACTUALLY MANIFESTING CALLED REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY TECHNIQUE.

hate, negativity, fear, and whatnot is actually a very VERY big metaphor that helps people get their desires bc of how powerful it is once you KNOW how to use it, and no i don't mean go hate yourself, but since this anon KNOWS that whatever she says the opposite happens, it actually applies to her reality. i used to say "ugh i hate apple juice so much"

and then for some fucking reason i keep drinking it.

my mother wanted to go to med school so bad, but she kept saying "i fear engineering, i can go anywhere but never there."

guess who's there then? she PULLED this to her life instead of telling herself she's already in med school.

IQWUEGFYEWQ FIRST CONGRATS BBY, OK TO BE AWARE IN IT, you can either ask yourself thru the day "am i in the void?" so much to the point you'll ask yourself that when you're there, or just repeated "i always stay aware in the void" before sleep like a mantra and that can help a lot, BUT GOOD LUCK DARL I KNEW YOU CAN DO IT.

OMFG GIRL IF YOU STAYED A WHILE LONGER YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THROWN IN THE VOID.

THAT WAS HYPNAGOGIA BEFORE YOU DECIDED TO WAKE UP FROM IT, i get the fear tho like it is TRIPPY as FUCKKKKKKKKK, BUT CONGRATS YOU WERE SO CLOSE MWAH.

oml you always are in the hypnagogia already-

when you're there, that's the point, throw every anxiety aside, you're literally one second away from everything, stop the "i can't" and flip it to "i can."

watch the thoughts like you're watching tv, at the end every thought will go away and leave a blank tv, there we go, that's the mind clearance, do that before entering, GOOD LUCK.

SYMPTOMS ARE NOT SIGNS MOST OF THE TIME, THEY R JUST YOUR BODY SENDING SIGNALS WHEN SOMETHING NEW IS HAPPENING, when you enter a pool, your body goes cold first, right? that's adapting, same with symptoms, continue as though you already have them bc having them or not having them have no meaning at all!

nah shifting time is in your hands, frustrations are a food to the belief that you need time to shift.

to shift, you have to THINK from your DRSELF, not AS your DRSELF, credits to someone on youtube i heard from, but either way, shifting is not by time, it's by decision, it's not about the method, not about the time, not about the duration, it's simply about you, ACCEPT YOU CAN SHIFT, acceptance is when even when you did not shift, the ability to wake up being like "nah i still shifted, that was fun." that's acceptance y'all, shifting is in your hands darl.

HI LOVE, it's not "reaching" it's just being aware when you reach it, bc every functional human gets it before sleep, and yeah you actually can feel your body bc hypnagogia is not the void!

sit somewhere, and just talk with yourself, why are you scared? what's holding you back? argue with it, tell it to leave, do whatever, but you are the one in control, you overthink it too much, shifting is just being and the void is just awareness, that's all my love.

because once you change yourself, reality will follow.

ITS OK ML, hell yeah you can manifest them with u! you can simply manifest them to be in your timeline as though everything was that way, good luck!

HI DARL, ok so that's actually such a good idea, BUT I CANNOT PROMISE IF I CAN AT THIS MOMENT, but i can promise you whenever i have the time to instantly make one, alr? GOOD LUCK,

hi doll! first of all, i hear you and i understand you, i know how it can feel.

but reality can NEVER fail you, once you decide, it has been decided already, this means changing EVERY thought of the exam, not just "oh i have xyz grade".

it means feeling and KNOWING what you answered was already correct and you know it is, you know you have it and you won't even have one ounce of anxiety, it's like you ordered something and laid back to watch it come to your doorsteps, NOT: didn't order it but i tell myself i have ordered it.

yk?

time does not dictate it, start FRESH and start new, throw all the victimization off, you can do it!

HOLY SHIT YOU'RE ALREADY A MASTER MANIFESTER WHY U LIMITING YOURSELF BBY.

there's this block in your path about it, THROW IT AWAY, and nah it's not ab ignoring or to "have faith".

actually stop giving a fuck and know you'll have it, get doubts, tell yourself "but i literally manifested xyz." omfg my hand hurts.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got The Blues Back In Boston"

Chapter 3

Pairing:Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/ neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings: f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I've never been in an abusive relationship- I've only witnessed them. I'm an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned.

Word Count: 10.2k

A/N: Talk about a dramatic chapter! Very sorry it took so long- I needed it to be perfect! I'm also taking 6 classes and working 2 jobs so finding time to write is impossible. Hope you all enjoy! As always, requests and inbox is completely open and any feedback is always welcome <3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Are you sure you’ve been okay?” Watching your anxious movements and the clothes flying from your closet, Padme questioned you with a worried frown, the scent of her perfume light in the air.

"No," you groan, tossing Nick's old Chief’s jersey into the giveaway pile; the faint, lingering scent of his cologne—a mix of sandalwood and something musky—brings a nauseous lump to your throat.

“No, I am not sure.” You sigh, emerging from the closet laden with clothes, and you dramatically toss onto the floor with a soft rustle before falling onto the bed with a contented groan next to Padme. The crisp, cool air from the room, carrying the quiet whisper of the air conditioner, washed over you as you sank into the plush comfort of the bed.

“Have you tried talking to Anakin-“ 

“Fuck no! Padme, I’m not bringing him into any of this.” You snap, your eyebrows immediately furrowing in guilt.

“I’m just saying. I know he’s sorry.” She mumbles, avoiding your gaze and picking fuzz balls off of her navy blue 100% cashmere sweater. 

“I’m sure he is.” You grunt out, laying back down and closing your eyes. 

Within the void of your closed eyes, his crystal blue irises shine uninvited, pupils blown wide like twin pools reflecting a familiar landscape, their intense gaze burning into your mind. His lips, swollen and pink, stretched into a smirk, then a slow, deliberate smile, the corners crinkling slightly as his eyes met yours. Your mind reeled; his face, a mere breath from yours, was sharp and clear, each feature etched in your memory, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. Your mind played cruel tricks, magnifying your best friend's attractiveness precisely when it was most inconvenient, making Anakin always seem overwhelmingly irresistible. 

Since you were a kid, Anakin felt like a figment of your imagination. It was a persistent, phantom itch- a want you never knew existed, a teasing reminder of something always just out of reach, an ache that lingered and lingered, heavy and subtle. Besides Nick, your thoughts would drift to Anakin as the night deepened, a quiet ache in your heart. Not necessarily sexual, although once in a blue moon, those thoughts did take over (in which you proceeded to keep him out of your mind for as much as possible for at least a month, unable to cope with the guilt of thinking about him like that while with another man) but it was mainly for the company Anakin used to provide you with. The safety. The reassurance. The way you knew you’d always be okay and loved. 

But, like you said, he was dead to you.

And he indeed was. 

Following your argument, it had been 5 ½ weeks of sleepless nights. Five and a half weeks of silence stretched between them, broken only by strained family dinners where his guilt-ridden gaze burned into yours, making your knuckles whiten around your fork as you desperately avoided his eyes, the silence heavy with unspoken words and palpable tension. It had been 5 ½ grueling weeks of every single person you loved telling you to “just talk to him” and “I’m sure he had good intentions.” To put it simply- 5 ½ weeks of loneliness and pure. fucking. torture.

Every excuse, worn thin from overuse, had fallen on your ears, a dull, repetitive drone of empty apologies. Every exaggeration. Every possible explanation and motive and- You’d had enough. Of course, you missed him. Of course, you didn’t want to do this. But you felt as if you had no other option. He hurt you when he had never hurt you before, and you honestly didn’t know how to cope. And everyone’s words- who barely knew the scale of what he said (or the people he said it to)- hurt just as much as his betrayal. 

And they didn’t know that hurt. They had no idea how much this tore you up inside. But you were slipping. The days passed you by; you called out of work frequently, you spent hours in bed rewatching cheesy sitcoms that took you away from the harsh reality that was your life, and you were so utterly behind in your classes that your mind swirled with thoughts of dropping them and quitting college altogether. And you assumed no one noticed the slight tremble in your voice, the way your smile didn't quite reach your eyes, that you were a little sad, but convinced yourself things would figure themselves out, that you had nothing to worry about.

But oh, did they all notice. 

A groupchat was made without you (and Anakin) and consisted of your brother, his sister, Padme, and both sets of parents. There was constant speculation and conversation about what was going on. How they would handle this situation as spectators. Truthfully, a conflict like this had never happened, and no one knew what to do. Thus, the groupchat came into existence. Initially, the approach was to let you both figure it out, assuming you would reconcile at some point soon. But at 4 weeks, with the deteriorating state of both you and Anakin, they knew that something needed to be done. 

And that was the other thing- You had no clue how poorly Anakin was doing. He wasn’t dealing with this on top of the trauma of an abusive relationship, but he was hurting. 

Ben noticed the dark circles under his best friend's eyes and the flatness of his usually vibrant voice, signs of exhaustion. He grew more peculiar when Anakin stopped coming to the gym with him in the morning- no text and no call, either. Anakin stayed at work later and picked up more shifts; when he wasn’t at work, he was cramped in some hole in the engineering building, pretending like he could study. 

Anakin was a nervous wreck without you. He knew he broke your heart- he knew he ruined your friendship. And he knew that he couldn’t forgive himself, either. Any mention of your name and his heart would instantly drop, his hands shaking as the lump in his throat suddenly returned, unable to be cleared. He could only avoid family dinners for so long, and the first one only justified his anxiety.

Within your unassigned, assigned seats, Anakin sat across from you, his gaze fixed on you as you idly moved your fork around the creamy risotto. The clinking of your fork against the plate was the only sound besides your breathing. The murmur of conversation flowed around the table, a gentle current oblivious to the tension simmering between you two. His eyes bore holes into yours, his gaze unwavering while you attempted to work up an appetite on top of your rage. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment before you dramatically stood, gathering your food and retreating to the privacy of your bedroom. The silence hung heavy in the air. Great, he made a scene. Now, everyone knew. 

And, of course, Anakin broke down and told Padmé and Ahsoka after dinner. Which, of course, meant everyone now definitely knew.

“You’re coming to dinner, right?” You mumble out to Padmé, breaking out of your Anakin-filled trance.

“Maybe,” She sighs, patting your thigh and standing up, “I gotta see how much homework I get done tonight. Otherwise, I'll have to skip eating altogether.” You giggle in response, standing beside her and throwing your arms around her frame.

“Well, I’ll see you when I see you. Wish me luck tonight.” You mumble into her hair, and you know she’s rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“I’m sorry, this is the only seat left. I can eat-“

“No, you won’t, Anakin. Y/N’s gonna sit right next to you.” Your mom interrupts him calmly, taking a small sip of her red wine while nervous glances are thrown around.

The audacity makes your head cock to the left, a silent scoff escaping your slightly parted lips. Then you realize she’s dead serious. A vise-like grip tightened around the countertop as your blurry vision locked onto your mother, the only sharp detail in the hazy room. Anakin's hand trembled as he grasped the cold, sweating beer bottle, the condensation clinging to his skin as he took a long, shaky sip, the silence in the room thick with anticipation.

“Okay, well,” The snarky remark comes out of your mouth a little too quickly as you aggressively grab a plate and start serving yourself, “I’ll just eat up-“

“Y/N, you’re going to sit your ass down at this table right fucking now.” 

“Mom-“ You attempted to plead, your throat closing in.

“NOW!” The sharp word sliced through the air as her hand hit the table, the violent sound making everyone jump. Their worried eyes and pleading murmurs were a blur as your tight-lipped frown remained fixed solely on her, the tension palpable. Your breath hitched, your hands slick with sweat, threatening to send the plate clattering to the floor.

You awkwardly took a seat next to Anakin, the chair screeching loudly against the polished spruce flooring as you inched away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. Your mom scoffs at your actions, and your eyes meet Ben’s, filled to the brim with copious amounts of empathy. You turn your head towards Ahsoka, her eyes filled with sorrow as she watches you tremble, silently mouthing, "I'm sorry."

The room was spinning, a dizzying vortex of blurry colors and disorienting sounds. As the air vanished from your lungs, the faces of those you loved swam before your eyes, blurry and distant. You couldn’t move a muscle. You couldn’t even think about eating. You could feel your heart's minute, quickened beat- every diastole and systole increasing in speed as your fingers gripped the side of your chair. 

This wasn’t right. You couldn’t be here with him- you couldn’t face him like this. You were weak. You were scared. Everyone could see it- they always knew these things about you. It’s the only reason they’re all looking at you. They pity you. They think you’re a fucking pussy for the way you left and the way you came back. They think you could have put up a better fight. They’re ashamed of you.

On top of everything, there was a familiar tightness within your abdomen—a warmth. Your stomach churned violently as if a storm were brewing within. A cold sweat slicked your palms as your eyes darted around the table; each glance, a fresh wave of unease, threatened to breach the carefully constructed walls of your composure. Your mouth suddenly went dry, and you could feel the metallic taste of bile rising in the back of your throat. Your heart hammered in your chest, a frantic drumbeat against your ribs as the rising bile burned your throat, and you fought to keep it down. The world around you blurred; colors became too vibrant, sounds too sharp. The sound of silverware scraping against ceramic made your eardrums bleed- the crashing waves worsened within your abdomen as each second passed. 

And then, the coil snapped. Within seconds and without a thought, you had rushed out of your seat, and your head was in the nearest trash can as your vomit violently wrecked your body for everyone to see. You tuned out what everyone was thinking, your body taking control of your emotions as it poured everything out right next to the salad on the counter. 

Your mom lets out a soft sigh, her eyes meeting Anakin’s as she tells him that ‘she tried.’ Truthfully, the idea was Shmi’s, knowing just how wrecked her son was by this, and desperately wanted the conflict between you to end. She didn’t have the heart to execute as well as your mother did, so she left it up to her. Truthfully, it all was a little more harsh than she wanted- and no one else at the table thought it was a good idea.

“Hey-“ Padme walks into the dining room, her brows immediately furrowing upon the noise of your gagging and the room's silence. No one was eating, and the silence that had come over the room was deafening. 

“My god,” She saw you in the kitchen and immediately ran to your aid, lifting the hair off your neck and tying it with an elastic that was around her wrist. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She turns back to the table, watching as they shift uncomfortably in their seats—still, not another word.

But then, Anakin was up. And out the back door.

Padmé frowned upon seeing him leave, hoping he would have done something to help the situation, but she knew it was impossible.

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” She carefully wrapped your arm around your shoulder, lifting you up as Ahsoka followed suit and took the other side. 

As the night drew to a close, Padmé and Ahsoka stayed by your side, their gentle words and comforting presence slowly calming the storm within you. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft nightlight casting a warm glow over the space. The air was filled with the scent of lavender from the diffuser on your bedside table, only inducing more nausea as you walked into your bedroom. After getting you up the stairs and into your own bathroom, the girls took turns watching after you. They sought out room-temperature water and crackers, building up to a bagel when you were starting to hold things down. 

You chose to ignore the glances they exchanged, instead focusing your attention on the feeling of your stomach. You knew the panic was beginning to leave from within you, but you couldn’t bear to open the bathroom door and face them, knowing that the conversation that was coming would only send you right back to where you were. You shuddered at the thought and squeezed your clammy hands, hoping they’d dry off somehow. With a sigh, you managed to peel yourself off the bathroom floor, pushing yourself onto the side of the bathtub. 

As you sat on the edge, the cool porcelain beneath you seemed to steady your racing thoughts. You took a few deep breaths, letting the air fill your lungs slowly, and then exhale just as slowly. The panic was receding, but the dread of facing the two behind that door was unbearable. You knew they would be worried, and their concern would only add to the weight you were already carrying.

After a few moments, you managed to stand up, your legs feeling a bit steadier. You splashed some water on your face, the coolness helping to clear your head. You stared into the mirror, seeing a pale and drawn reflection that was almost translucent; the eyes were sunken, the skin papery, a face you barely recognized. But you knew you couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, so it was added to the pile of things you chose to ignore. 

With a newfound resolve, you pushed yourself off the cold porcelain of the tub, the chill seeping into your skin as you opened the door to your dimly lit bedroom. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound as Padmé and Ahsoka's concerned faces leaned in, their expressions mirroring your own anxiety. You swallowed hard, a painful rasping sound echoing in your ears as your throat burned from your activities this past hour. Rising gracefully to her feet, Padme offered a soft, reassuring smile as she wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay, Y/N/N,” She pulls you in tighter, letting you bury yourself into her shoulder. You didn’t want to cry, but you felt the familiar pressure behind your eyes. 

“Let’s get you to bed.”

After casual conversations about anything other than what happened at dinner, the girls finally left you in your bed to rest. Your mind was reeling from the night, the thoughts swirling around in your head of what they saw, what they thought, what they would be saying. Sure, they were your family. But they talked. They always did. And so you knew that there was a debriefing to be had after tonight, with the exception of you and Anakin involved. 

And so your mind drifted back to where it always did- him. Did he feel as poorly as you did? He certainly looked like it. But even looking so sad, he still managed to look so purely Anakin. So ethereal. You wanted to hate him, but the pull towards him was stronger than any resentment, a frustrating mix of anger and attraction. Your energy needed his to survive- to function. In Hampton, it had gotten bad. Without your family and your friends, you were just a ghost. A phantom of who you should have been, pretending to be something you weren’t. And yet, your mind always came back to him. Anakin was a constant, whether you liked it or not. And right now, you fucking despised it. 

You threw the covers off with a groan, the springs of the mattress creaking beneath you as you sat up, your head falling heavily into your hands. When would it stop? Reaching into your nightstand drawer, you pulled out a crumpled, half-empty pack of cigarettes, the scent of stale tobacco filling your nostrils. You walked toward the bedroom window overlooking the Skywalker's house, its lights still on. With a creak, the window unlatched, and you pulled yourself up to sit, feeling the cool metal of the frame against your skin. The cold night air bit at your exposed legs as you cupped the lighter, the smell of tobacco and lighter fluid sharp in the stillness, and with each drag of the cigarette, a wave of relief washed over you. The stars were exceptionally bright, bringing a warm smile to your face. But after long, your eyes trailed down and met with a familiar pair of blue ones looking out at you.

Anakin had no shame. The sound of the window opening across the study sent a shiver down his spine; he rose and silently watched you. Oh, how he missed you. But upon his eyes meeting yours,  a sudden hush fell, the air thick with unspoken understanding, and you both stood frozen. The cigarette, burning slowly between your fingers, was utterly ignored as your eyes met his, the intensity of the silent longing palpable to everyone but you. You wanted to say something. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw a rock at him. But nothing came out except a small smile towards him as you brought the cigarette back to your lips. And he happily returned it. 

The fair lights twinkled around you, making you feel a sense of child-like wonder you hadn't been lucky enough to experience in years while the sounds of screams and laughter filled your ears. You blinked slightly as you felt your lips upturn in a slight smile, the feeling foreign after the past few weeks. Despite everything, there was always the Massachusetts State Fair. And it never failed to cure you.

The present dissolves into memory – you at nine years old, hair in messy pigtails, chasing Anakin and Ahsoka through clouds of cotton candy as your mom called after you to slow down. Even then, Anakin looked at you like you were something magical, something precious. His eyes held the same wonder whether you were covered in dirt from playing tag or dressed up for school pictures. You were just kids then, hearts full of impossible dreams and the certainty that anything was possible. Maybe you'd always been Anakin's dream, but that was a truth you wouldn't understand until much later.

The awkwardness of puberty hit like a tidal wave – sudden and overwhelming. Your body became a stranger, and friendship with boys became complicated in ways you didn't understand. But Anakin remained steadfast, accepting without question when you started gravitating toward Ahsoka instead. You'd catch glimpses of hurt in his eyes when you'd dodge his attempts to hang out, but he never pushed, never demanded. Even then, he knew how to love you from a distance.

He found ways to remind you he was still there, still your Anakin. You'd open your backpack to find your favorite candy bars tucked between notebooks, placed there with ninja-like stealth. In quiet moments, when your eyes would accidentally meet across the cafeteria, he'd cross his eyes or stick out his tongue until you couldn't help but smile. Always careful not to overwhelm, but refusing to let you forget that someone saw you, and understood you, even in the midst of your self-imposed exile.

It was the same pattern you were living now, you realized – you pushing him away, him finding ways to love you anyway. Some things never changed, even when everything else did.

With the scream of a nearby child, sounding like they were possessed by something supernatural, caught your attention- you were suddenly back to reality. And Anakin wasn’t there to make faces at you or ask if you were okay. That absence hit like a physical thing, a phantom limb you couldn't stop reaching for.  You found yourself half-turning, mouth already open with a joke he would have appreciated, before remembering. But instead, you were dodging past people in a crowd, attempting to follow Ahsoka to whatever destination she was taking you. You never really thought to ask, but now your stomach was growling, and you were getting a little annoyed (especially since your thoughts continued to betray you).

“Ahsoka, where the hell are we even going?” You grunted slightly, pushing past a guy who had accidentally bumped your shoulder when you walked past. The fairground feels bigger somehow, more overwhelming without Anakin's steady presence beside you, without his hand ready to guide you through the chaos or his height to help navigate.  

“It’s just- we’re almost there.” She mumbled back, pushing ahead more eagerly as you struggled to catch up. You huffed slightly, exhaling through your nose as you grew more claustrophobic by the second. Usually, he'd notice by now, would create a barrier between you and the press of bodies, would distract you with terrible jokes or random observations. But he's not here, and that's your own doing.

When you made it out of the crowd, you huffed in annoyance at the sight. Slushies? She led you to the other side of the fairgrounds for a fucking slushie? 

“Ahsoka, really-“

“Before you say anything-“ She turned around, an evil smile on her face, “These are the best slushies ever. And- and I wanted to tell you about someone.”

You quirked a brow. Ahsoka never talked about someone.

“Someone?” You inquired, following her into the line, your teasing tone catching the blush on her cheeks as she turned away. “Not sure I’ve ever heard the Ahsoka Skywalker discuss a someone.”

“Y/N/N,” She whined, turning around, “He’s incredible.” The giggle that escapes you is genuine, a moment of lightness breaking through the heavy cloud that's been following you all evening.

“Incredible? I gotta meet him.” 

“His name is Cal, he’s in my program.” She turned away upon saying his name, embarrassed to meet your eyes. Your eyes lit up.

“Cal… Kestis?” You prodded, and she turned back to meet your gaze, her face pale. 

“Yeah…” 

“Oh my god, that’s so funny. Of course, it’s Kestis.” You giggled out, and she wasn’t amused, raising a fearful brow at your words, “Cal lives in the library. I’ve talked to him quite a few times. Padmé and I were actually thinking of setting him up with you. He’s a good kid, Ahsoka. Stupidly smart. But no wonder his visits have been dwindling lately…” You trailed off, and she dropped her jaw.

“AreYouSerious!!” She blurted out, practically jumping from excitement, “I swear I’ve never had a crush like this before. I feel ridiculous all the time. Why do I care what a man thinks about me- but he is all I can think about. I had to tell someone I was going crazy!” She hears the voice clear from the man behind her, “Oh uh- blue raspberry, please!”

A heartwarming giggle escaped your lips at the sight of her smitten face, so full of joy. You waited off to the side of the stand, hands shoved deep in your pockets, as the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted unexpectedly. A gust of wind whips your hair across your face as she approaches, a slushie clutched in her hand, and your smile, despite the cold, spreads as you see her own.

“Do you know if Padme’s coming? I know she mentioned it this morning.” You walked with Ahsoka mindlessly towards the covered (and heated) picnic tables in the distance.

“Don’t think so- apparently, Dr. Moore had a breakthrough with their case this morning, and she’s needed.” Ahsoka managed to get out in between sips, practically skipping ahead of you to the table. You huff in annoyance at her response, attempting to walk your freezing legs faster towards the tables. 

“I see.” You slide in on the closest side of the picnic table, your back to the rest of the fair, and you quirk a brow at Ahsoka as she checks her phone. “Kestis?” You wiggle your eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not quite. Anakin.” Your face falls.

“Well, so tell me about Kestis.” You shift slightly in your seat, eager to get the bad taste out of your mouth at the mention of his name. How you missed him. 

“Well,” Ahsoka attempts to hide the blush of her cheeks, but it’s obvious she’s been waiting for someone to bring him up, “So, we take Organic Chemistry together- I noticed him in class on my first day but was too scared to approach him. It was kinda funny, though; we were the only ones in class who’d answer questions, and he kinda irritated me- he always tried to be better than me at everything! At least, it seemed like it. Anyway, all that stopped when my professor assigned us to work on our project together. And I don’t know- we just- the second we started talking, we hit it off. We have the same major, same research interests, and what I’m lacking in knowledge- he knows, and it’s the other way around, too. So not only do I find him insanely attractive- but we have so much in common.”

It sounded like Ahsoka was speaking a million miles a minute- but you caught every word.

“And do you think he feels the same way? Have you made a move yet?” You leaned forward inquisitively, your smile never leaving. You were just happy to have something to talk about other than family. 

“Well, so that’s where it gets complicated…”

“Ahsoka, don’t tell me you haven’t made a move.”

“Well…” You shake your head. 

“Girl. Come on.”

“Y/N, it’s complicated!” She whines, leaning forward and putting her head on the table in shame. “I mean, he could have anyone-”

“Of course, he could! And so could you! And ‘Soka, there’s so much to love about you. I’m sure he feels the same way. Have you been avoiding him?” You squint your eyes at her accusingly, and her lack of eye contact tells you exactly what you need to know.  

“Listen, you guys have to spend a lot of time together anyway. Forced proximity. For starters, you need to stop avoiding him, or nothing will ever happen- no matter how nervous he makes you. You’re sending the wrong signals. And second, you can absolutely wait it out if that makes you more comfortable. Maybe give him the chance to ask him first. But if I were you, by the end of the project, preferably before then, I’d ask him out! The worst he can say is no.” 

“Okay… fine.” She hums, laying her head back down on the table and sighing. “Maybe I’ll ask him out soon.” 

Her eyes widened slightly as she cleared her throat, searching for a topic to discuss. You cock your head, confusion evident on your face as Ahsoka's internal panic rises, a silent scream trapped in her chest. The change in her demeanor is so sudden it's almost comical – almost.

“What?” You question her, nervously laughing.

“Nothing! Just-” She attempts to distract you, but it’s too late.

‘What the fuck.” You mumble as you turn your head around, your eyes instantly meeting Anakin’s. Of course. Of course, they planned this.

“Y/N, listen-” Ahsoka attempts, but Ben shuts her down, putting his hand up.

“Y/N, before you say anything-” 

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I invited us-” Ben tries again, attempting to calm you down from the meltdown he saw approaching quicker than he thought. 

“Did you know about this?” You whip your head around towards Ahsoka, your once warm smile replaced with a scowl. 

‘Listen-”

“So you did! So you were just telling me about Cal to distract me?”

“Y/N-” Ben's voice takes on that pleading tone you hate.

“Who’s Cal?” Anakin interjects, and Ben slaps his arm to shut him up as you give him a glare that could melt steel.

‘Okay. Cool. I’m leaving.”

“Y/N, stop! You’re being ridiculous. We wanna enjoy the fair like we always do. It isn’t fair to us to bring whatever’s going on between you and Anakin into this. We’re all family here- and you’re being selfish.” Ben’s words cut you like a knife, and you avoided Anakin’s gaze as you stared daggers into your brother.

“Ben-”

“Y/N. Please act like an adult and get over it. At least for tonight.” The plea in Ben's voice makes you turn to Ahsoka, finding the same desperate hope in her eyes. You exhale slowly, feeling the fight drain out of you.

“Fine-” Ahsoka squeals and hugs you, a muffled thank you heard against your chest. Your eyes hesitantly meet Anakin’s- to which he offers a small smile. You don’t reciprocate.

As you all start walking, you and Ahsoka take the lead, with the guys following behind. You try to focus on Ahsoka's chatter, but Anakin's stare burns into your back like a brand. The weight of his gaze is suffocating, a constant reminder of his presence that makes your skin prickle with awareness. The fact that he was doing this in front of Ben – your brother, his best friend – was beyond you, but you didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t. You make the appropriate noises as Ahsoka talks, guilt gnawing at you as you hear the genuine joy in her voice, but you can't catch a single word. The steady rhythm of his footsteps behind you drowns out everything else, each step a reminder of what you're trying so hard to forget.

“Ben, look!” Ahsoka pointed towards something you didn’t quite catch before it was suddenly just you and Anakin. That bitch.

“Trying to win your pretty lady a prize?” The question cuts through the tension, making you both spin around. The carnival worker stands there, baseball in hand, gesturing to the pyramid of bottles with a knowing smirk that makes your blood boil.

“He-” You start to correct him, but Anakin's already moving.

“Absolutely,” he says, the word dripping with confidence as he strides forward and takes the ball. Your protest dies in your throat as you watch him settle into that familiar athletic stance– the one that reminds you of countless summer games, of cheering from bleachers for Ben and Anakin with the rest of your family. The one that had you weak in the knees, unable to squeak out a single word. 

Anakin's perfectly aimed baseball smashed the glass, the sound of a sudden, violent crash that had you jumping before you could even begin to speak, a shower of glittering shards raining down in front of you. Those baseball seasons in between football had truly paid off for him. The rage built inside you—how dare he entertain that man’s words and win you a prize like nothing had happened?— but the sight of his joyful smile, the crinkles around his eyes, warmed your heart instantly, and between your legs,  despite your best efforts to stay cold. 

He gestures grandly at the prize wall, where stuffed animals hang in a rainbow array under buzzing fluorescent lights. Your hand trembles slightly as you reach for a modest teddy bear, but Anakin's voice stops you.

“No, sweetheart, I won you something off the top.”  The endearment slides off his tongue so naturally it hurts. You rolled your eyes, pointing towards a BMO stuffed animal at the top as Anakin’s smile widened. With a decisive movement, the man yanked the object from the hook and thrust it into your hands. You glared back at Anakin as you held BMO tightly. 

“Not gonna say thank you?” He teased as you walked away from him.

‘Not a chance.” you mutter, trying to ignore how your heart stutters when he laughs. Then you spot Ben and Ahsoka ahead, and fresh irritation floods your system. God, how you wanted to kill them right now. Their matching raised eyebrows at your new prize only fuel your annoyance – and Anakin's insufferably smug expression.

“Don’t.” You grumble out while Anakin flashes them both a smile.

“Ooooookay- Gravitron?” Ahsoka raises her eyebrows at you as you say it, and you groan.

For years, they tried to get you on that ride. And for years, you said no. The sheer drop below and the ominous creaks of the machine made it impossible—no way in hell you'd get on that thing. A cold dread washed over you at the thought; your skin prickled, your stomach twisting into knots. It turned into an inside joke—a test of wills, really—to see who could push your buttons and get a reaction. 

“Guys, she doesn’t have to get on it if she doesn’t want to.” Anakin’s words hit your chest hard. Fuck. Now you’d have to do it. With a jolt, you whip your head around to face him, that cocky smile still on his puffy pink lips, a smug glint in his eyes.

“Obviously, they fucking know that, Anakin.” You retort, before facing back to Ahsoka and Ben, “And you guys are lucky. This is the year.” 

A gasp escaped Ahsoka's lips at your words, immediately followed by a squeal of delight; she leaped into the air before tackling you in an exuberant hug. Finally, she wouldn’t have to ride it alone. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you followed closely behind the three of them as they filed into the line, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat. As you watched the ride spin wildly, the metallic screech of its machinery grating on your ears, a familiar unease settled deep in your stomach. This wasn’t going to end well. 

You looked around cautiously, your hands like a vise on the slick metal railings, the cold seeping into your bones. The line inched forward, a slow and sweaty process that had you constantly switching your grip and wiping your hands on your jeans. You had long tuned out of the conversation in front of you- your ears attempting to drown out the sound of Anakin’s voice, as well as the screams and creaks from the ride before you. Above you,, the screams seem to pierce straight through your skull. You desperately tried to convince yourself the sounds were screams of joy, but the sickening lurch in your stomach and the terrifying thudding of your heart screamed otherwise. 

Ten minutes. That's what the sign said. Ten minutes to talk yourself out of this, to watch the massive steel structure looming larger with every reluctant step. You catch yourself counting the people ahead of you again—seventeen, sixteen if that couple, chattering away, lets their friend cut in line. Not nearly enough to justify turning back now, especially not after what Anakin said. There was no turning back. 

“How many?” The man ahead startles you from your thoughts, your shaky hands slowly leaving the cold, damp railing as you watch Ahsoka’s confident stride as she speaks to the man before effortlessly sitting next to Ben. Four people could fit on the ride; two sat on each side, leaving little room to move around. That left you with Anakin. But before you had time to protest, the man was rushing you along and into the seat. You quickly buckled your seatbelt, the rough nylon straps digging slightly into your skin, before he returned. When the man came back from the other side, his touch lingered a bit too long as he double-checked the tightness around your waist before pulling away with a slight smile, prompting a furious glare from Anakin.

“Try that one more time, you fucking asshole.” Anakin practically growled, sending the attendant scurrying away. But you were already too deep in your rising panic to care, your mind fixating on the height, the inevitable drops, and the way the seat seemed to wobble with every breath.

“Are you okay?” You finally turned to face him, gulping slightly upon meeting his eyes before giving him a quick nod. You couldn’t speak- your mouth felt glued shut. His brows furrowed, and he grabbed your hand without asking. “Y/N, do you need to get off? I need you to talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me- and we don’t have much time.” 

Again, you were frozen. Before you could process his words, the ride began its slow ascent, a low hum vibrating through the platform, and you let out a small whine—though quiet, it wasn't quiet enough to escape Anakin's ears. A soft curse fled his lips before his fingers clamped down on your freezing hand, his gaze unwavering. 

Your stomach lurches as the ride begins to tilt upward. The world shifts on its axis, the ground falling away at a sickening angle. Each second sends a shudder through your body. The air feels too thin up here. Why is the air so thin? The pressure on your chest is immense; you force a breath through your nose, wincing as the tightness causes a sharp pain. You know Anakin’s talking to you—his reassurances dissipate into the thin air, leaving only the faint scent of sweat as you try to calm yourself- stubbornly refusing his help despite your desperate need. As the ride twists you upside down, your whines grow louder, a feeling of weightlessness washing over you. 

You gasped, "An-", the breath knocked from your lungs as the ride jolted into reverse, spinning you wildly through the air, a terrifying carousel of screams and laughter filled your senses. A scream, your name torn apart by the wind, is the last thing you hear before the world dissolves into an inky black, your hand falling limp from his. 

Your eyes flutter open slightly, meeting a bright light from the fair’s medical staff- the nausea in your stomach worsening suddenly. Your eyes stung as you blinked harshly and turned away from the medic with a groan, your gaze locking with Anakin's concerned eyes. He stood next to Ahsoka, arms crossed, jaw tight, and a scowl etched on his face as he glared, staring daggers at the medic. Ben knelt before you, head bent in concern, as the medic worked. He sighs, a deep sound of exhaustion, standing and offering a calloused hand. 

“She’s fine- just adrenaline.” The medic shuts the light off, putting it in his back pocket, “Happens to the best of us.” He shoots Anakin an I Told You So glare, which Anakin happily returns. He pushes past the worker and towards you as you stand with Ben’s help.

“You scared me. Are you okay?” His eyes scan your body, and you huff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and ignoring him. 

“Can we just get on the Ferris wheel?” The words come out small and tired as you latch onto Ben's arm, using him as both shield and support. You deliberately keep your eyes forward as you pass Anakin, but you can feel his presence like a physical weight at your back. Ahsoka's sympathy for him radiates off her in waves as he jogs to catch up, and you hate how well you can picture his defeated shrug without even looking. 

“Ben, are you sure that’s-” Anakin starts, concern threading through his voice.

“Anakin, it’s fine.” Ben pleads, but there's something loaded in Ben's tone, a weight to his words that makes Anakin narrow his eyes in suspicion. But you're too exhausted to decode their silent conversation. 

The betrayal hits when you reach the front of the line. Ahsoka moves like a dancer, gracefully slipping in front of you to claim the seat beside Ben before you can react. The metallic clang of the safety bar dropping feels like a prison sentence. Your mouth opens to protest, but she cuts you off with a look that's equal parts determination and apology.

“This is for your own good, Y/N/N.” She mumbles out and you’re frozen in place. Her words float down as the wheel lifts them away, leaving you stranded with the one person you can't face right now. You stand shocked, mind racing for an escape route that doesn't exist.

“Y/N, come on.” Anakin huffs out, grabbing your arm as you attempt to yell and pulling you into the cart next to him. His grip on your arm is firm but gentle as he guides you. The familiar warmth of his touch sends electricity up your spine, and you hate how your body still responds to him. With Anakin’s decisive nod to the employee, he pulls down the rail, the metallic clang echoing as the lever is pulled, sending you both into the air.

“What the fuck is your problem, Anakin-”

“Please, Y/N, for the love of God, what is it going to take? You gotta help me out here. This hurts-”

“And how the fuck do you think I feel!” You raise your voice at him, and the words explode out of you- anger mixing with vertigo as the wheel carries you higher. At this point, you were slightly thankful he started the argument, feeling the nausea rise in your stomach again. Why did you want to get on this again? Out of the corner of your eye, you see the ground shrink away below, and you suddenly remember why getting on this thing was a terrible idea.

“Fuck! I know! Please say anything else. Something I don’t already know.” He pleads, attempting to grab your hands as you snatch them away- but his brows instantly furrow and his expression shifts instantly from hurt to concern.

“Y/N, you’re freezing.” He begins to shuffle off his jacket, and you roll your eyes, scooching away from him.

“Anakin, I’m-”

“No, you’re fucking not!” He shuts you up, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders, “Your fingertips are purple. I know you have poor circulation. Stop fucking lying to me.” You go quiet at his words, your body stiff as you put your arms through the sleeves of his giant jacket. His familiar scent envelops you, and you hate how safe it makes you feel.

“You should stop being nice to me, Anakin.” You mumble out, your voice barely above a whisper. His laugh is sharp and bitter, cutting through the night air.

“You’ve been acting like a fucking child, Y/N. You’ll always be my best friend. I’m not just going to stop caring about you because you’re mad at me.”

“Well, you should.” He scoffs and turns away, looking out at the fairgrounds below the two of you. 

“It’s so beautiful tonight.” He finally whispers, not able to face you. The sting of your words lingered as a painful reminder of your indifference, making the thought of you witnessing his tears—in that moment—intolerable. The fairground lights blur below, a kaleidoscope of color that feels like it's mocking the mess he’s made of everything.

A sigh escapes your lips at his words; you clutch his jacket closer, the rough fabric a familiar comfort as you peer over the edge, the dizzying height making your head spin. The uneasy feeling in your stomach subsided, replaced by the sharp pangs of hunger. You needed some ice cream. Or a fucking turkey leg. The moment the cart lurched to a stop, you tossed the heavy metal bar aside, your heart pounding, before jumping down and racing to your brother and Ahsoka. At this point, you didn’t care about them leaving you with him. This entire fucking night was a mess. You just needed food.

You surged forward, the smell of bodies and sweat heavy as you elbowed your way past others, heaven's radiant glow beckoning you forward. Turkey legs. Your body practically shook in anticipation, your smile widening, and you continued your trek toward the stand, ignoring the sound of everyone calling out for you to slow down as they followed. The scent grew stronger with each step – a smoky perfume that made your mouth flood with saliva. Through the dense crowd, you could see the massive drums slowly rotating, each one laden with enormous turkey legs glistening under heat lamps.

Behind you, your friends' voices grew more distant– something about "slow down" and "it’ll mess up your stomach"– but their words were meaningless in the face of your sudden quest. The vendor's awning loomed closer, red and white stripes became a beacon of salvation for you. Steam rose in fragrant clouds from beneath it, carrying hints of garlic, smoke, and pure culinary ecstasy (This was definitely the hunger talking). And at this point, you thought you might cum from the first bite. Your fingers already itched to grip that paper-wrapped handle, to feel the weight of what was surely going to be the best turkey leg in your entire fucking life.

The rest of them finally caught up to you in line, panting and red-faced from their impromptu chase through the fairground crowds. Ahsoka was practically doubled over, hands on her knees, while Ben just looked unamused with your actions. 

"For fuck’s sake," Ahsoka wheezed, straightening up and wiping sweat from her forehead. "You can't just... bolt off like that... in a crowd this size."

Their worries about what Ben would call "proper fair etiquette" were completely ignored. You were too focused on the prize ahead, the heavenly scent of smoked meat filling your nostrils and making your stomach growl loud enough to compete with the nearby rides. After everything you endured- everything they made you endure- you deserved this. And right now, despite everything (including Anakin), you had a one-track mind, and that track led straight to poultry paradise. Frankly, their ability to keep up at all was impressive, given how you'd weaved through the crowd like it was nothing.

So you eagerly pushed ahead with the four of them in tow, your excitement practically vibrating through the air as the line inched forward, a low hum of anticipation building around you. With painstaking care, the vendor selected and wrapped each turkey leg, causing your stomach to fight harder than before. Your fingers drummed a restless rhythm against your thigh as you ignored them, the savory aroma already painting a vivid picture of that first bite in your mind. But Anakin, with his usual opportunistic grin, had other plans; a selfish, ambitious plot was already forming. He was already past you, the familiar glint of trouble in his eyes, before the event even registered in your mind: a sudden rush of movement and the scent of his cologne.

Anakin moved with the grace of someone who'd made an art form out of getting his way. One moment, he was behind you- the next, he was sliding past with a casual "let me just..." that died in his throat when he caught your expression. But he didn't stop. Of course, he didn't stop. That wasn't the Skywalker Anakin way.

You were beyond sick of this "I'm just going to push in front of her" trend that both Skywalkers had started- but this incident specifically put you over the edge. There was practically smoke coming out of your ears. And it bubbled up hot and fast in your chest, drowning out even the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey legs. Your hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as you watched Anakin's back; his casual lean against the counter, a picture of infuriating nonchalance, sent your blood pressure soaring. He knew exactly what he was doing – they all did, judging by the way Ahsoka and Ben were suddenly very interested in discussing the nearby balloon dart game.

"Hey!" you snapped, your voice carrying over the general fair noise with enough edge to make a few people nearby turn their heads. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" But, of course, your words fell on deaf ears. How ironic. 

Instead, turned toward you and lashed that infuriating half-smile of his –as if to say, "Don’t worry." His wallet was already out, cash ready, as if he'd planned this little coup from the start. You watched in shock at his audacity as he leaned his elbows on the counter with casual confidence, speaking to the vendor in low, friendly tones that carried just enough for you to hear him ordering four turkey legs. Normally, this interaction would have you weak in the knees. But right now, you were hungry enough to kill. 

After everything, Anakin was being Anakin. And what you usually adored became a nightmare. And he was doing what he always did- but this time, he played the generous friend just to spite you. His shoulders were relaxed, posture easy, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He was bracing for your reaction even as he handed over the money, even as he pretended this was just another thoughtful gesture. Maybe it was- but you didn’t care. 

The vendor started wrapping the turkey legs in paper, each crinkle of the wrapping like another little jab at your independence. Anakin's fingers drummed on the counter in a rhythm that screamed false casualness, and you could see him stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, gauging just how angry you would be when he turned around. Behind you, you could practically feel Ahsoka and Ben exchanging worried looks, preparing for the explosion they knew was coming.

“Thanks, Anakin!” Ahsoka happily grabs the leg, and so does Ben, biting into it with ease, praying that you would follow along. But they knew better. Your body shook as you calculated your next move, walking away from them out of line and towards the rides.

“Y/N, wait!” Ben calls after you, followed by Ahsoka and Anakin. 

“Here-“ Anakin holds out your turkey leg he bought, and you turn around to face him- and his face drops at yours. You were seething, every muscle tense, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You smack the leg out of his hand and on the ground, hearing a gasp from Ben and seeing Ahsoka throw her hand over her mouth out of the corner of your eye. The turkey leg lies there in the dirt, a symbol of everything that's been building between you two for months. The paper wrapping slowly soaks up grease and grime, and the silence that follows feels like it could shatter with a breath.

“What the fuck-“

“I don’t fucking want it.” The words tear out of your throat like broken glass. You see Ahsoka's hand close around Ben's wrist, pulling him backward. Her eyes are wide, but she knows as she signals to him just to let it happen. She's seen this coming – all of you have.

Anakin's turkey leg hits the ground with a dull thud that matches your heartbeat. "You fucking brat. Come here." His grip is strong on your arm- too strong to fight- and you feel your trauma-induced nerves come back all over again. Suddenly, he’s Nick, and you're trapped and terrified. The old fear rises like bile in your throat as he drags you away from the crowd.

He pulls you behind the Tilt-A-Whirl, the machinery's constant grinding providing cover for whatever's about to explode between you. The carnival lights cast strange shadows across his face, making him look almost foreign to you. Your chest heaves with ragged breaths that seem too loud in this small space, angry tears burning at the corners of your eyes. You’d never seen Anakin this angry before- and it absolutely terrified you. You felt your own resolve weakening, your body betraying you- wanting nothing more than to run into his arms and apologize as you sobbed and fell apart. But you wouldn’t- you couldn’t. That wasn’t an option anymore.

"Anakin, stop! Let go." Your voice comes out higher than intended, almost a whimper. He releases you with such sudden force that you stumble back. Then, his fist connects with the ride's metal siding. The crash makes you flinch, and your whole body jerks as your memories betray you.

"Y/N, I have been going crazy every single fucking day since that night." His words come out eerily controlled as he starts pacing, like a caged animal looking for escape. The carnival lights catch the sweat on his brow and the tension in his jaw. "I haven't slept in weeks. I haven't thought about anything else but you. And you-" His voice breaks, and he turns away, running his hands through his hair in frustration as his resolve begins to crumble.

“It hurts me to see you hurt- to know that you were hurting. To know that I could’ve done something-“

“Anakin,” You take a shaky step forward, trying to find strength in your voice that you don't feel. “There was nothing you could do.”

“Goddammit- will you just let me finish!” His voice cracks as he shouts, a couple of tears cascading down his cheeks. 

“No!” You whine as you yell, your own tears finding their way down your face, “You don’t get to fucking make this about you, Anakin! You hurt me! And I had been hurting- for a long fucking time. And all I wanted- all I needed- was to come back to the normalcy of my old life. And you took that from me, Anakin! You fucking took it from me!”

“Y/N-“ His voice is desperate now, reaching for something he can feel slipping away.

“No!” You surge forward, riding a wave of anger that's been building for weeks. Your finger jabs into his chest, and he actually takes a step back. “No- you don’t get to talk anymore. You’ve made this entire day fucking hell, Anakin. Taking another thing I loved and ruining it-“

“What did I ruin first?” He steps forward, his tone icy once again. The carnival lights cast harsh shadows across his face, making his eyes look almost black.

“Our friendship.” You gulp, your words definitive as they hang in the air. You watch them hit him, watch them sink in. He chuckles.

“You don’t fucking mean that-“

“Try me. I said you were dead to me, and I meant it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He scoffs, shaking his head like you're being ridiculous- like this is just an overreaction he can dismiss. But you laugh.

“I-I’m fucking unbelievable? Holy shit, Anakin! News flash- this isn’t all about you! Like you always think it is. The ground you walk on does not worship you! And neither do I! I fucking despise-“

Softness. That was all you felt at first - an intense, unexpected feeling of softness that made your anger stutter in your chest. His lips, impossibly gentle despite the force of his sudden movement, pressed against yours in a way that made your knees weak. The softness was followed by a warmth, starting as a spark in your lower abdomen and spreading like wildfire through your body, making your fingertips tingle where they hung frozen at your sides. Insufferable - this feeling was absolutely insufferable - but you couldn't get enough. Your body betrayed your mind's protests, leaning into him even as your thoughts screamed to pull away.

Then— the fucking cotton candy. Of course, he would taste like cotton candy. The sweetness lingered on his lips, mixing with something distinctly him, making your head spin with how intimate it felt to taste him. His tongue found its way next to yours, no longer gentle but insistent, dancing for dominance in a way that made that warmth in your stomach turn molten. He was unwilling to waver in his efforts, pressing deeper, claiming every gasp that escaped your throat. Each stroke of his tongue against yours sent shockwaves through your body, turning your anger into something else entirely - something dangerous and electric.

You gasped, the sound embarrassingly needy, as his hand found your waist. His fingers splayed wide, burning hot through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, pulling you against him with a certainty that made your head swim. The movement pushed you fully against him, chest to chest, hip to hip, as he deepened the kiss. Your hands, traitors that they were, had somehow found their way to his shoulders without your permission, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

But then, like a bucket of cold water, your brain caught up to what was happening. This was Anakin. He betrayed you. He ruined your new chance- your new life. And he had the audacity to kiss you like nothing was wrong? Like he deserved it? 

You pushed him off of you with all the strength you could muster, stumbling back away as you wiped your hand against your mouth. But the action couldn't erase the tingling sensation his kiss left behind, couldn't stop the way your body yearned to eliminate the space you'd just created between you. Your lips felt swollen, oversensitive, and you could still taste him—that fucking cotton candy sweetness.

“I-I’m sorry-“ He attempted to stutter out, but it was over. It was over when it started. 

Your lips crashed back into his with force—hunger—as you quickly closed the gap between you both once again. There was no dance either—your tongue forced its way into his mouth, getting him to moan and submit under your touch immediately. Your knuckles are white around the collar of his shirt, and his hands find their way to your waist, inching down closer to your ass. You scoff against his lips at his hesitation and stand on your tippy toes, pressing yourself against him as you encourage him to touch you back. Of course, he obliges. 

You pour every ounce of your anger into the kiss, transforming it into something fierce and desperate. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you push him back against the ride's metal structure, the cold steel a stark contrast to the heat building between you. He groans again under your touch, his hunger far from satisfied. 

You kiss him like you're trying to hurt him, pouring your pain and betrayal into the clash of teeth and tongue. It's violent, desperate – a physical manifestation of every bitter word you've ever swallowed down. Your fingers dig into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, and you taste copper where your teeth catch his lip. You want him to feel it, want him to understand exactly what he's done to you.

But then something shifts. The anger begins to dissolve into something else, something that's been there all along, buried under layers of hurt and denial. His hands slide into your hair, gentler than you want them to be, and suddenly, the kiss transforms. The fury bleeds away, replaced by a raw need that terrifies you. Years of unspoken feelings surge to the surface, and you can feel him responding in kind, his body softening against yours even as his grip tightens.

That's what makes you pull away. The tenderness is worse than the anger – it's dangerous, it's everything you've been fighting against. You step back slowly, taking in the wreckage you've left: his disheveled hair, the flush high on his cheekbones, those lips you've dreamed about now swollen and wet. He looks wrecked, vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. There's hope flickering in his eyes, the ghost of a smile starting to form, and you can't bear it.

You struggle to catch your breath, turning away as shame and guilt crash over you in waves. This wasn't supposed to happen. This can't happen. The taste of him lingers on your tongue as you try to rebuild the walls he just shattered.

When you face him again, your finger jabs into his chest like a weapon, like you can push away what just happened through sheer force of will. 

"Fuck you." The words come out raw and ragged, carrying all the weight of what you can't say.

You don't wait to see his expression crumble. You can't. Your feet carry you away before he can respond, leaving him alone in the shadows of the ride, the echoes of carnival music mixing with the sound of another chance slipping through his fingers. Back to square one, but now with the memory of what could have been burning between them like a brand.

And Anakin was alone.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged! Also, if your username has changed and you wish to update it for my taglist please let me know!!!

TAGS:

@w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queensofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny @sunnytotheend @malinadbbdh @ladyanaschmidt @endaira06 @hearts4sammonroe @roryheartz

[thewertsearch]

Another flashback, eh?

...nah, I'm not buying it. I think it's a lot more likely that this is another dream bubble. Dave has temporarily died, and he's taking a little pit stop in the afterlife.

TG: heres one for you TG: its a whopper TG: are you ready TT: For what? TG: this huge fuckin whopper im about to just say […] TG: im talking about a dream i just had

Bubble or not, this is still a flashback to a real event - which means that Rose really does make a hobby of analyzing Dave's dreams. Sorry, but that's kind of adorable.

TT: You mean a canard of behemothic embellishment? […] TT: Or was your resolve finally dismantled by the siren's song of all that flame broiled beef? […] TG: ok first do you even have burger kings out in the fucking woods TG: why do you reference things that obviously arent in the woods like terrible burgers TT: I'll limit my establishments of reference to lumber mills and sugar shanties from now on.

Pretty sure I know what’s happening here. Some fans looked up the GPS coordinates for Rose’s house, realized that she’d probably lived in the woods all her life, and jokingly ragged on her for making references she shouldn't know about.

TT: Also, there's a Burger King less than forty minutes from my house. [...]

She lives in the countryside, guys. Not Mars.

TG: i mean it was a doozy like psychologically speaking TG: doozy is a slightly dumber word than whopper TT: Certainly less delicious. TG: it was absurdly heavy handed my subconscious was really slathering it on

Lest we forget, Dave was awake on Derse before the session had even started. He may not have been consciously aware of that fact...

...but that hasn’t stopped a few things from leaking in from the other side.

TG: its possible that i dreamt it ironically i dunno

LMAO

Alright, that may have been the funniest thing Dave has ever said.

TG: are you busy TT: Yes. TG: cool listen to this

S I B L I N G S.

[hellaarknight]

I promised to protect you

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Genre: Angst

Warnings: swearing and mention of physical and psychological abuse, toxic relationship, mentions of bruises and about laying hands on a partner, some of the content may be triggering.

Author note: I would consider this a heavy fic for some. Do not engage if you think it might be triggering.

Images and art from Pinterest if someone knows the original creators let me know so I can tag them properly

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

" Well he's not always this bad, he's ok..."

Your weak attempt to defend your shity boyfriend only made Chuuya angrier. Why would you let yourself be in the company of that awful guy, he could never understand. You were bright and nice, powerful and determined and yet you got yourself a... A leech. No, it was worse but he was being generous while describing that abomination of a man... That guy had deemed your light in the past 6 months he's dated you and Chuuya hates himself for allowing you to get with him in the first place.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?" Chuuya extended towards you a glass of wine.

"Listen Chuuya, I know he's not the man I've dreamed of and doesn't have all the qualities I've wanted my partner to have, but I also have to compromise on some things."

"Not on your dignity."

Your gaze fell on the floor a deep sight leaving your lips. Chuuya ran a hand through his hair, very frustrated. He didn't want to say it like that, but he had enough of seeing you suffer, seeing you renounce your hobbies because that guy deemed them "childish" or seeing you lose your spark when talking about what brought you joy just because your boyfriend found them boring. He knew you were smart, always talked about how you will never lose yourself in a relationship so he didn't really understand why and how you got to this point. Chuuya fell in love with you, but couldn't tell you because of his mafia position and him being away for missions a lot, or work trips how he called them in front of you. Then, when he decided he had to come forward and let you decide if you wanted to give him a chance with all that it would have entailed, he was a month too late. He returned from one long, painful mission and found you in a relationship, one that he despised wholeheartedly, so he chose to remain your trusted friend.

"Listen, I didn't want to say it like that...."

"No, that's not true, you did want to say it exactly like that". Your voice was on the verge of cracking. Something bottled up was about to spill if you weren't careful enough and Chuuya noticed it. The man groaned and took a sip of his wine. Maybe it was time to be honest about it.

" Fine. It's exactly like that. Since you started dating that douchebag you lost yourself. All the things you promised not to compromise on in a relationship happened. You lost your bright personality, you stopped rambling about books, anime and flowers. Hell, you even stopped gardening and that was your therapy. You asked me to stop bringing you flower bulbs from all over the places I go on my work trips and you stopped hanging out with me or your other friends. You stopped wearing your signature perfume and your red lipstick you were so fond of. So I'm sorry, but you're not in a fucking healty relationship! And you're defending that stupid fuck who doesn't do anything with his life and stays at your place, without paying any fucking bill! You left yourself to be a mat for that guy, what is wrong with you!?"

You looked at Chuuya stunned. It seemed that the red head had a lot bottled up as well. For some reason his words stung and made you feel worse. He was right and you fully knew it, but you just couldn't let him know... You could not put him in danger.

Chuuya was deeply unaware of your internal struggles. He only knew what he was seeing and what you were letting him know lately, which wasn't a lot that's for sure. He felt relieved to have finally spoken his mind. At the same time, guilt was eating him alive. This was the first time he raised his voice at you in a serious manner, but he couldn't control it, his anger towards the entire situation had the best on him. You looked frightened to say at least and he could swear that he saw you flinch when he was using his hands to express his thoughts.

Something about your crunched posture, your fidgeting fingers, the way you looked very exhausted made him open his mouth.

"Does he hit you?"

Why didn't it cross his mind sooner? What if you were in an abusive relationship? Your boyfriend's controlling behavior was concerning enough, but if it was worse than he imagined and all this time he blamed you for not keeping your ground? A pit formed in his stomach, he was going to be sick.

"What?? What, no... Is not really like that." You avoided Chuuya's scrutinizing gaze and forced a smile.

He gently reached for your chin and turned your head to face him. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, his gentleness making your heart flutter. Was his calloused hand always this comforting?

"Please, please if anything don't lie to me, especially with things like this. I promised you that I will protect you no matter what, remember?"

"I can't" you shake your head "If I'm telling you everything you're going to act impulsively. He's going to hurt you, he said you'd be the first one to suffer, I'm sorry, I can't..." At this point your cheeks were stained by your tears, your hand cupping his near your face.

Chuuya's heart broke at the sight. It was pitiful, he blamed himself for it. If only he wasn't a coward when it came to feelings. He swore to himself that he'd keep you safe from the mafia world, but that did not mean that in other circumstances he wouldn't be there for you. With his thumb he wiped your tears away.

" I am not going to get hurt, I promise you. There isn't any chance for him to lay hand on me. Don't hide yourself from me anymore, please. You're hurting and it's killing me to see you like this."

Chuuya felt as close to you as ever. Even if you kept your distance from him in the last few months, even if you tried your best to hide the hell you were going to. So you just broke down crying.

Chuuya was quick to pull you towards his chest, wrapping his hand protectively around you. He caressed your back and gave you space to let it all out. He was hurting with you, he hated to see you cry, let alone seeing how broken and hurt you were. He felt like the wall that rose between the two of you had finally collapsed.

" Is ok, is ok, you're going to be okay. I'm here now, you're safe, no one is going to hurt you here, I'll make sure of it. You are safe sweetheart, you're safe." He kept whispering sweet nothings and encouragement words until you got to calm down a bit. He used his gravity manipulation powers to bring closer the tissues and then handed you one.

" You' sure you're ok?" Your nod made him feel at ease, at least for a moment. Then he just grabbed one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly, silently encouraging you to talk.

" I want you to pinky promise that you won't do anything stupid." Your glossy eyes made Chuuya chuckle.

" You know very well that I can't promise something like that, doll. I'm gn'a promise that I won't get hurt, that I can do."

Your glare only made him raise his shoulder, but that will have to do.

" He... He may or may not have raised his hands at me. I definitely do have some bruises over my body, but they appeared from what he calls accidents. I tripped, or I fell into the chairs from the kitchen but he pushed me..." Chuuya silently listened, his blood boiling in his veins. He was ready to hunt the bastard down and bring him into the Port Mafia's torture chambers.

" ... and I kept all this to myself because he's a member in the mafia and said that he would put you on their killing list if I said anything to anyone so I was scared..."

" WHAT!?" Chuuya couldn't believe what he was hearing, your boyfriend was a what and did what? It was like his worst nightmare came to life but in a very twisted way. That was not plausible, the members in the mafia know very well the consequences of using their status to commit shit like this. Unless it was about some weakling, a newbie who got the hands on a bit of power and now thought nothing would touch him. What the fuck happened?

" I know, I know, it was very dumb of me to stay in the relationship, but I was really scared for you and for my family..."

" No, no, that's not it. Tell me his name and what he told you about being in the Mafia. That motherfucker is about to lose his head."

"Chuuya, you promised that you're not going to do anything stupid!"

"No, doll. I promised that I won't get hurt. But that isn't why I'm saying it. The guy can't use his mafia status however he pleases. There are certain rules even in the Mafia."

You looked at him confused.

" How would you know?"

Chuuya inhaled deeply. It was time to come clean with everything.

" Because I'm an executive in the Mafia and I can guarantee that the motherfucker you're dating isn't going to go about his day and live to tell the tale. I'm sorry, I'm going to explain everything afterwards, I promise. He's at your apartment?"

You were so confused, not really registering what he was saying so you just nodded.

" You stay right here until I come back. Go take a shower, take a bath, go in my office and read a book or you can find some manga collections that I have previously prepared in case you happened to stay here. You can find pajamas for you in the guest room. I'll be back later."

" Where are you going?"

Chuuya smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead.

" I'm going to show that bastard what it actually means to be in the Mafia."

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

SFTH Chaotic Highlights (Sorry About My Nan)

Briefly posting these out of order because I am way too fixated on this play. It has the psychological horror of a cult, one of Tom's eldritch villains, and dark humor, this shit was made for me-

The few minutes of vague trauma recounting as Sam and AJ internally debate which of them is gonna drop any information at all

As well as who the grandson of the title Nan is going to be, because I feel like Sam was ready for the role at first with the 'that was embarrassing'

"I just think it's good when things like this happen just to sit with it for a second, before you.. have a breakdown" Most real thing an AJ character has ever said

Jim asking if his own nan is still alive, whether AJ knew it at the time or not, as if even he was kinda hoping she wasn't

"Who invites their nan on their bachelor party??" Jamie asking the real questions. Unfortunately for him, this is the least weird thing that's going to happen on this stag do

Luke finally gets to experience the joys of playing a chaotic farm animal

They've had plenty of problems with names before, but idk if I've ever seen two actors try to give a character a name at the same time until now

Hey what the FUCK did Ethel do to Big Jim Clive's wallet?? WHAT WAS HER SHOW?!

Yet another instance of Luke's minor characters being incredibly well done- Like everything he says sound genuinely mortified

"I just feel shattered, you know?" I'm using this. You ca take this line from my cold, dead hands, it's how I'm describing every minor inconvenience in my life from now on

Also it was funny and all, but Sam was fucking dying like it was a joke from earlier in the show or something-

Anyway #JusticeForBigJimClive #AndHisWallet

"Listen, I've stood by you for a lot, but that?? I just don't understand.." - the man who's about to go through a cult initiation for his 'best friend'

"Are you my best friend?" Jim is the only one who would feel the need to ask this question at this point

Tom's using the shirt around his waist to symbolize Ethel flashing Jamie is some great stagecraft, I must say

It's the 'nanananana' build-up to an anticlimactic 'ethel' for me

Had to google what an air tag was, but yeah those are pretty big to spike a drink with

We never did get clarification for why Ethel said the wedding was her big day

Rip headphone users for AJ's "I KNOW" I forgot about it for the rewatch and fucking OW MY EARS-

"It's pre-used" Don't eat the bacon, Jamie. I repeat, DO NOT EAT THE BACON

"THANK GOD" "She- what do you mean thank god?" "Sorry, I mean oh god.. thank you" I said enough about this in another post but someone get Jamie tf out of here

"You've got so many teeth" Jericho flashbacks

I've made a post now on the Lucy/Julie thing, but to summarize, idc that she changed her name at the end, I will always call her Julie. It feels disrespectful not to-

"Listen, listen- She's asleep!" Jamie was not convinced of that. He just didn't want Jim to inject her with adrenaline to bring her back again. I see right through you, Jamie-

I just wanna know when exactly the first thought of 'Ethel is a cult leader' happened. Because there's a pretty good chance it was Luke when he said there was a statue dedicated to her

Okay on rewatch, that was definitely the moment. Luke knew what he was doing to the plot

I'm convinced that Luke saw Sam playing all these problem causing animal characters and thought 'fuck it I want in', resulting in this play's sheep scene. He is having the time of his life being a sheep, getting to chew on Tom's shirt and shit. He is laughing his ass off while causing problems for his other character. I love watching the boys have fun-

I know it's because he's brainwashed, but I fucking love Luke's german farmhand character being the only one in the room who is not only comfortable around Ethel, but actively excited to see her

Ethel calling the farmhand 'good boy' is the second time in a row Luke has been called that during a longform

"She seems happy here, why don't we just leave her with this guy?" Honestly a great idea, why would anyone be against this

Stag. stag. stag. STAG. STAG. STAG.

"Not one seat each" Why was my first thought not them sitting on each others' lap, but sharing the chair half-and-half, like two people fighting over a seat in musical chairs

"Be a good mate" "You're really pushing that" Is he, Jamie? You're about to willingly go through so much for him, is sharing a seat really pushing it for you?? Pining gays istg-

"I'm here for my best friend's stag do. I will do what he wants to do for the rest of the weekend, and then we will move on." Buddy. I am not doing that shit for my best friend. You are in love.

"It's like an A24 film" Big thank you to Sam, for being the reason they all leant into that theme for the rest of the show

"My name.. Is WILHELM." Jamie, exasperated: "... great."

The fact only the subtitlers acknowledged Sam repeatedly calling them 'numchucks'

"I think he wants us to fight" "WHY? Why do you go to that??" To be fair, my mind also went to that..

Jim: *tries to kill Jamie* Jamie: *doesn't attack him back and is entirely undeterred in his loyalty/friendship* I know what you are

"Wilkommen.. To the Cabaret!!" And just like that all the musical theater nerds lost their minds

I haven't even seen Cabaret, but I've heard the first song and immediately knew and was thrilled about what he was doing

Nah Tom was right in this instance, Sam he had a German accent and everything ofc this isn't Ethel

I like the subtle acting of Jamie saying 'NO!' to the request, and when Jim follows it up with the next word, Jamie looks at him with a very distinct 'you're doing this?' expression. Bro looks more betrayed than when Jim tried to murder him

Emcee living for the drama is so real

Emcee casually sitting on his stage partner's corpse as well as offering him the microphone

"Me neither" the audience laughs but like. That was incredibly unsettling.

"How's the best man?" Very suspicious thing to ask, Fake Julie

"I love you and I always have.. And I would never betray you" Okay but you didn't say you pwomise him, so I'm hesitant to believe you

Jamie's "Are we in Bristol??" to "WE'RE NOT IN BRISTOL!" pipeline

So.. am I the only one who thought Jamie was talking to Julie in the ending scene before Sam clarified he was her mother?

Ethel throwing her shirt onstage with her little 'eh!' noise is so funny

"For convincing me to invite your nan to my bachelorette party" INSANE THING TO AGREE TO JULIE

She's also horribly suited for cult brainwashing wtf did you set her up for Jim-

Also just noticed yet another parallel between Jamie/Jim and Amanda/Clarissa, with the same actor who played the ignored love interest also playing the role of priest at the wedding

Luke immediately going for the bridal hold in AJ's arms and being so content there

Conclusion: It really would've been better for everyone involved if Jamie got together with Jim instead. Jim doesn't have the girl who came onto his best friend, Jamie gets to be with his crush, and Julie doesn't have to change her name to Lucy. And Luke is very good at playing brainwashed cultists, which is the exact reason I'm excited to see his episode of Black Mirror. Oh, also I really hope this longform continues getting the attention it deserves, it's so fucking good

[cultkinkcoven]

Fuck.

I started this page to document my shit so thats what I'm gonna do. But first huge massive disclaimer holy fuck

spirituality and psychology are messy and I am insane I think, and I'm not saying that to be funny or whatever, I know how strange these ramblings sound. I know this reads like some really weird self insert god fanfiction. Maybe it is ?? I recognize how absurd this is. And I have been genuinely kind of unwell dealing with this in silence because??????? how the fuck do you explain this to like??? anyone.

This might very well be my psyche unraveling. SO TLDR, fucking I don't know take this howeverr you do.

Trigger warning: Extremely cringe, extremely nsfw. Mention of??? Blood, power dynamics, "what is referred to as cosmic statutory rape”, ???? implied grooming and incest YEAH ???? IDK. IM SORRY.

I DONT KNOW IF I AM GOING TO POST THIS

These are less than unedited. These are what I could find the time to write down between bouts of confusion and admitedly a lot of denial. And life also. Like being a not insane normally functioning part of society. Theres going to be so many spelling errors and dumb shit said. Its probably going to be so long. You guys wanna do Luciferianism and shadow work and stuff its so fun.

I'm deflecting with a lot of humor right now. I'm genuinely so burnt out and exhausted in every sense. To everyone who has commissions due from me rn I love u guys and I'm so sorry I have been an absolute wreck like genuinely. I’ve been sick. So anyways. Yeah. Intense stuff.

To be entirely honest, I’m not sure if I can remember how it began. I recall already being seated at the podium, in what appeared to be a courthouse. The Jury, the Judge, and all other people in this room were dressed in black robes which had hoods that obscured their faces, their forms. But I already knew that I was in God’s court, that each and every person in this room was a divinity. Some familiar, Hermes, Horus, Aphrodite. Some I don’t even know the names of. Angels, demons, Gods from every culture, all gathered here today. 

And then, there he was, Lord Lucifer was brought into the courtroom, shackled, chained, cuffed. And sat on the side of the defence, against the persecution. And I sat in the chair of the victim.

Then the Judge, I don’t know who exactly they were, did that thing that Judges do to get everyone’s attention. “We are gathered here today in deliberation of the case against Lucifer who is accused of coercion, corruption, desecration of the human soul, and what is referred to as cosmic statutory rape.” 

And I altogether understood what this was, and I honestly couldn’t really believe it was happening. I must be dreaming.

A figure, one from the side of the prosecution, began a speech. 

"You blur the line between worship and possession." "You do not merely accept devotion, you entwine yourself with it. You drink from it. You live inside it."

"You wield love as a weapon."   "You make your devotees fall too deeply. You make pain feel holy. They would die for you, and that may not always be a virtue."

"You court mortals like they are equals, then treat them like property." "You call them beloved, but you collar them in blood and longing."

"You distort consent by overwhelming the senses."   "Is it truly choice, if the pleasure you offer is cosmic and irresistible?"

"You make the sacred too intimate." “You taste what should be prayed to from afar. You break the distance."

“Lucifer will be judged, not because he broke laws in the usual sense, but because he redefines the borders of law, love, and power. These accusations are not of cruelty or evil necessarily, but of disruption, seduction, and subversion.”

Lucifer, who’s gaze was pointed down, hardly reacted at the charges. When he is asked how he pleads, he answers “no contest.”

And when he is given the floor, an opportunity to explain himself, it’s like he doesn’t exactly care for the opportunity. Which is unlike him. Lucifer? A chance to speak? To defend himself? He would jump at the opportunity. Now he is disinterested. 

“Yes,” he said, “I do all of these things, because I was not made to enforce your structures.

I was made to test them.” 

The court does not favor the response. It’s interpreted as misdirection, manipulation. Same old tricks. 

Lucifer starts again, “This boy approached me, I did not forsake him. This boy forged himself under my path and defined his own, and in his path he found his rightful place alongside me. Decided of his own volition that he would allow me to define him. I only seduce what is already hungry. You ask me why he bleeds for me, why I take and not why he gives. This conversation is irrelevant to me, to us-,” and he raised his head to look at me, “because he is always going to return to me. Watch me go and watch him follow. If you fear what I awaken in them, perhaps it is not me who needs atonement, but the one who taught you to fear awakening.”

That hardly moved anyone, the persecution snapped back at him promptly. “Lucifer, you are a predator.”

His eyes returned to the ground. The persecution addresses the jury.

“Lucifer engages erotically, spiritually, and sometimes violently with a much younger, mortal devotee. This is the transgression of the divine boundary between heaven and earth, the holy and the profane, the ageless and the fleeting. The idea of an ancient being engaging intimately with a young human triggers serious questions of power imbalance, consent, and grooming. The age, scope, and influence of such a being far surpasses human capacity. The imbalance is so vast it will inherently be manipulation or coercion even if the human agrees."

And on the side of the offense, the side of Lucifer, a voice rings out. It is extremely familiar but I can't quite place it right now. 

“The mortal-divine union has always been dangerous, but also deeply transformative. The point isn't safety, it’s awakening, even if through ruin. Lucifer embodies this edge.” 

And Lucifer, with what seems like a hint of agitation now, ““You call it grooming. I call it cultivation. What you see as a child, I see as a garden of becoming. I will not allow him to be stripped of his agency.”

And again, the persecution comes back swiftly. “Compared to you he is a child, compared to most, he is a child.”

“He is my child,” Lucifer spits back, “He is a creation of my choosing, shaped by my influence, called into becoming by my voice. He was born of me, not by blood but by purpose. He is my  pride, my possession, his transformation is my responsibility. I protect him, guide him, scold him, raise him in my image. I am experiencing something precious growing in my hands,” and then he pauses, looks at me again, and continues, “But he is not only a child, in fact he’s not a child at all. He is also my partner, my lover, and at times, perhaps even my prey, and soon my mirror. He is my offspring, but also my altar, my beloved, and my equal in becoming.”

And again, from the persecution, “Groomer. That journey, from “child” to “consort,” is where Lucifer’s obsession lies. You claimed to have cultivated him, but in reality all you did was lure, rape, and consume him.”

And that was the only accusation Lucifer did outwardly deny, "I did not rape him."”

“It was never truly about guidance, growth, or transformation, but instead about exploitation cloaked in divine theatre.”

And again from Lucifer, “I did not rape him,” and a pull at his chain that is again, not viewed favorably by the court. He cannot control himself. 

And his partner or representative beside him chimed in again.

“We will remain as honest as possible about the situation and Lucifer’s behaviour. Luring? Yes—Lucifer is the Morning Star, the bringer of light, the whisper in the dark. He does lure. Consuming? Yes. He has drunk the devotee’s blood, held them trembling, marked them. Power imbalance? Yes. He is a god. The human is a mortal. That is the frame of the relationship. Lucifer doesn’t dispute the intensity or the devouring. He only defends the mutuality.”

And then again Lucifer, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, “he chose me.”

Another figure on the opposing side then takes the floor. “Can a human ever actually consent to a being like Lucifer?” he says with a look towards the jury. “Lucifer, you seduced a creature whose soul was still in its first bloom. You drank blood from someone who hadn’t yet lived long enough to question you. You made him yours before he knew what it meant to belong to himself. That is not love, it is corruption.”

Lucifer answered promptly. “He chose me. I waited. I showed him the gates and asked nothing. He walked through. I did not drag him.”

But they reply: “And he was a boy. Your light is blinding. Your voice rewrites the mind. He could not say no, not truly.”

A hand popped up from the crowd. He didn’t exactly wait to be summoned forward he just did, murmured the words “witness,” and took the floor. He removed his hood. I already knew it was Lord Hermes before I saw his face. 

“I’ll admit I am far less familiar with the boy than he is,” Hermes started, and he glanced towards Lucifer, “but I do have to say that I find the infantilization in this court to be a little bit annoying. I’ve seen Luciferdo things even I wouldn’t dare, of course. That's his nature. But I’ve also seen the boy come alive in his hands. More alive than most gods have ever managed with their own children. Lucifer wasn’t his first experience with the divine, wasn’t his last, but it was the one he chose. And he didn’t just choose it, he ran to it, bled for it again and again. Even when it wasn’t pretty. Even when things didn’t go his way. He makes that choice every single day, I don’t think it’s honest to disregard it.” and then he sort of paces, mumbles, seems like he’s stringing together his next sentence, 

“I have walked every threshold, slept in strangers' beds, and whispered things into mortals' ears that turned their lives inside out. I know what it is to disrupt. You call it corruption. I call it contact.” and then he turns to Lucifer, walks up towards him and looks down. “You cultivated him? No. You claimed him. Don’t pretend it was all altruism. You wanted him, you waited for him. You touched him and in turn informed his definition of touching. Maybe that’s the oldest game in the book. Guilty? Sure. But not alone. And not by force. What you’re really afraid of isn’t what he did. It’s that the boy looked up and said ‘yes.’”

And Hermes was dismissed.

And just as quickly another hand shot up, and she hadn’t even waited until Hermes had left the floor to intrude. Ah, I knew her by her energy, her aroma, blessed to be in her presence, Aphrodite. Ahaha so this is like, all the Gods are here and they're all judging me guys. I am tripping hard.

“Everyone yet again is somehow surprised that love is messy?” she started with a half laugh. She has the snarky judgement of a teenage girl, perfectly, “You call it predation. I see it as worship. Not the boy worshipping his God, the God worshipping his boy! You see corruption, I see anointment. And of course you fear it, of course it seems risky. No one touches love without being undone.”

And to Lucifer, she turns and says “You go too far because you always do.” But there’s a smile in it, a sisterly recognition. And then she turns to me. “You bled beautifully. But not blindly, not without purpose and not without regard for consequence.”

She walks up to me and I am almost overwhelmed by her. She lays a hand on my cheek, and murmurs, “what’s dangerous is not that he took you. What’s dangerous is that you let him, and that you liked it.”

And she turns back towards the room, and towards Lucifer, 

“And now you’re trying to make sense of something that was never meant to be safe. I’m not arguing his innocence or guilt. I’m arguing sovereignty through surrender and divinity through desire. Let the boy love his monster. That, too, is holy.”

And a ring back from the prosecution: “Let the boy fall into the hands of the predator? Let him exercise his will even if it is to surrender to the beast? Can a human understand the implications of such an action?

And Lucifer responds back, when I look at him I find that he was looking at me.. “If you strip every mortal of the right to surrender, you strip them of their freedom. If power invalidates desire, then no god can ever be loved. I… exercised… restraint.” 

 And there was some sort of screen or something. It played moments between us, our conversations. Our most intimate moments. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. And this feeling started to fester in me. This feeling that I was being propped up and analyzed on a stage without my consent. 

“The very need for restraint proves the dynamic is inherently unsafe. If his authentic desires risk consuming, hurting, or “owning” the devotee, then any sexual engagement, even benevolent or sacrificial, is fundamentally compromised.” The persecution continued, now addressing him directly, “Lucifer, you call yourself teacher, father, protector, and then you bind this child to you with threads of sex and sacred fire. You admit your fantasies would possess him, ravage him, take him from his duties. You admit that without restraint, your instincts are devouring. You call it love, but it is ownership. You waited, yes, but a wolf waiting outside a cradle is not innocent because it does not break the door."

And I’ll admit, that part did offend me a bit. And before I have a chance to speak the person who was sitting beside Lucifer representing him shoots their hand into the air. “Can I be a witness too?” He asks, and again he, like the others, does not wait for an answer to take the floor. And I don’t know why, but for some reason I didn’t recognize him until his hood was off. Ah, I should have guessed, so obvious. Dionysus.

And then he doesn’t address the jury at all, he points at me. “You there, you know what it is to be split open by love and find god inside your wound? You know what it is to be the chalice that is filled with your God’s purpose? However mad it may drive you?”

A moment of silence. Oh, yes. “Yes,” I answer. It wasn’t a rhetorical question. “Yes, I do.”

Then Dionysus turns back to the court “What are you judging him for, being honest about it? You call him guilty because he touched something sacred and let it burn. But is that not what we all do? You light a candle, it melts. You love a mortal, they change. You let that mortal change you, you evolve. And look at them. Changed, but not destroyed. Or if destroyed, then beautifully. And then I call that destruction the creation of something new, something realer than what came before it. HERE we have our tragic beast, the hunter who cannot hunt until his prey bears his teeth. The prey who demands to be hunted, runs in the direction of the arrow. The boy didn’t fall. He leapt. And Lucifer, ever the gentleman, caught him. Feeding.. Fucking… transforming, merging, we all know these things are one drink away from each other. ”

And the main figure who was representing the prosecution made a comment, “The abuser and the addict, we can’t say we’re surprised.”

And Dionysus cackles at that, “Yes, the queer and the freak!” and then shrugs, “You think love is clean, your problem is that you do not recognize that love is a form of madness itself. And if this boy is mad, what of it? We’ve created a world that has doomed him, doomed both of them. I see two beings destined for the flames finding sanctuary in each other's arms, holding each other until they are tempered to gold, what of it? If the burn is electric, if it makes suffering bearable, what of it? ”

And another hand shot into the air, this time sat on the side of the persecution. Far in the back. They took their time getting up to the stage. Their steps echoed. When he pulled back his hood… I don’t know why.. I was surprised. Caught entirely off guard. It was Archangel Michael, so brilliant he was hard to look at. I'm cooked.

He started quietly. “I did not come here to exonerate him. I came here because I’ve watched him.” A pause.  “And I have seen what he does with what you cast away.”

He didn’t look at me or Lucifer. In fact he looked only at the judge.

“You fear that he breaks the weak. But what I’ve seen is that he finds them when you will not. That he sharpens those who come to him dull, and that they leave him with teeth, bleeding, yes, but unafraid. Loved, loved in a way that is not righteous or moral, but true. The truth is that this boy is not weakened, very much the opposite. That is what makes this dangerous. Because Lucifer, Lucifer.” He glanced at him finally, “Lucifer is just vengeful enough against those who cast doubt upon him to subvert their expectations. He will cherish the boy, perhaps he may never harm them. Because that is exactly what we would all have him do, to end this”

Then he looks at me, and I feel like jumping out of my skin.

“If there is guilt here, it is mutual. If there is madness, it is chosen. The sacredness of the dynamic is not in question. We all know this. How simple this would be if Lucifer did the obvious, but he refuses. We all know he always refuses. You condemn him not because he preys, but because he transforms the boy into something that cannot be controlled by any master other than him.”

Michael pauses again, and then concludes “He is not innocent. But he is not wrong. I recognize that conventional methods will not work for this unconventional human. I ask then, if the doomed cannot hold each other, then what will we give them in return?”

One of the main two prosecutors shoots out, “Love and healing that is not contaminated by the power imbalance.”

and Lucifer, now giving up entirely on concealing his anger, slammed his cuff on the table, and responded, “You speak of power imbalance as if mortals are helpless. But this one, Shi, his name is Shi, rebuked me. They challenged me. They redrew the lines. And I obeyed with the same trust he put in me. What predator honors a boundary once drawn? What groomer rewrites the contract at the whim of the student? I am not a slave to desire. I did not take. I gave, and gave again. If I fantasized about devouring him, I did not act on it. You think I don’t know? You think I don’t understand what I could do to him? I do not punish his rebellion; I admire it. You want to accuse me of passion? Of yearning? Then I plead guilty. But I will not plead to rape, nor violation. I waited until he asked. I waited until he was ready.” and then he bobs his head, “I waited until I was ready. And when he said no, I did not take. And when he called, when he stood as his own, I recognized him. And you judge me because you can’t, you won’t. And even now you disrespect him,” he almost stood up. He was the most vexed I have ever seen him, “even now you talk about him as if he’s not in the room.”

And that comment placed all the attention back on me. I wanted to throw up having that many ancient eyes upon me. My mind had not entirely processed everything that was happening. Is this real? Are all these Gods really here? Or is this my brain’s way of processing some kind of guilt or fear about Lucifer? I wasn’t entirely sure. The absurdity of the situation was affecting my judgement. Maybe that's why I acted the way I did. 

I kind of just couldn't help but look around and laugh. All these Gods here in all the history of mankind, shedding blood, raging wars. I couldn’t help but say, "I thought you all liked blood?" For a while that’s all I could say. 

Does it really matter how you got it? In all the ways that a human could bleed, this bleeding born of love and devotion, that’s too far? You’re all drenched in blood rituals and now you're acting scandalized? This trial is not about blood, or morality, it’s about power. The Council doesn’t object to blood. They object to whose altar it stains, for what reason. And somehow want is not valid enough. Submission chosen, not as pure as submission imposed. Bullshit. I mean no disrespect, but that’s bullshit.

 and Lucifer gave me that kind of look that perhaps a father would give his son if he said something like that in a courtroom, a look that says "you're not respecting the gravity of this." but in it there was also a smile. and it followed with a laugh and he looked to the court. "See?"

And Dionysus speaks over him with a kind of theatrical flair, “Look at the boy! They are of him. This is not a case of a corrupted innocent, but a co-conspirator, a willing vessel, a co-creator of the taboo. You are asking the mad why he loves his mad God and he laughs in your face!”

And the prosecution: “The devotee’s irreverence is immature, inappropriate, and perhaps even proof that they were groomed into mocking authority. This is deflection, a sign they don’t understand the full weight of what’s being examined.”

And Lucifer, now calmed with a smile: “You fear this union because it is free, because it laughs at your pageantry. He is not my prisoner. He is my student, and he is becoming.”

“Becoming like you?” another voice from the persecution, “is that a good thing? Teaching a mortal that they need to bleed to be recognized? To be loved?”

And the attention was again brought back towards me, because I let out a huff and squirmed in my seat. Broke into another laugh, nervous laughter. But eventually I stopped laughing, cleared my throat and said:

"The thing about humanity is that you must bleed. You will bleed, and you must choose who and what you bleed for, why you get out of bed or why you lay in bed and let yourself rot and die. Perhaps I am too naive to consent to such a thing, perhaps I am just deer running into a hunter's trap. There must be those among you who can tell me why my alchemy is allocated in such a way that makes me predisposed to whatever this is but… If I am the deer falling in love with the hunter, would you grant me the opportunity to be wielded into his craft? You know, to be mended into his bow. The ink for his paintings, the little cup he keeps his paint water in? Both the predator and the hunter eventually slay the prey… I’m not denying that. But the hunter does something the predator cannot. The hunter sees the prey not just as a target, but as worthy, beautiful enough to inspire pursuit. The prey, now knowing their purpose, instead of fleeing, steps willingly into the path, choosing to be known, consumed, transmuted, or even preserved in the memory or art of the hunter. Do I have to ask for permission to fall in love not just with the hunter, but with the moment after the kill? Can I be made into his instruments, the very tools with which he creates and destroys, and to live on in his mythos as both lover and medium? Because that’s what he is to me, right now. My muse and my ink, my pen, my page. I gave my soul to Venus, didn't sell it, because perhaps I fell in love with the love that is only found when a hunter strokes his coat."

I kinda started to tear up which was embarrassing lol. I wasn't even entirely sure if what I said made sense. I looked to him for comfort, his gaze helped me breathe, the way he moved his hand. "Breathe." I got it together. 

"I think I'd rather die in the arms of a mad God, it's your fault. You made me mad in the first place."

It was silent for a moment, but the persecution broke it with a question, “If the devotee must die to feel loved, is that love just?”

And I laughed again through tears, “I don't have to die to be loved, but I will die. That's the way you set up this game. I have found a love that transcends death. You're mad because he won, because Lucifer’s not supposed to have that, he’s not supposed to redefine it, he’s not allowed. And a human isn’t allowed to choose their own undoing, even when it liberates them.” 

And before I could even really finish my sentence, another hand shot up.This one was closer to the front of the crowd. I knew him. When he stepped forward he was almost as quiet as Michael. 

“This is the heavenly angel that first contacted the devotee, one of the very first spirits they ever worked with, who taught him how to properly communicate and interpret spirits. Jophiel takes partial responsibility for enabling the devotee’s relation to Lucifer.”- someone said it, I can’t really remember who. 

I haven’t seen Archangel Jophiel in quite some time. We speak to each other far less these days. He was a very important chapter in my spiritual journey. And I will admit, I was bewildered to see him there, and slightly.. Nervous? Embarrassed? Shocked that he knew the depth of my intimacy with Lucifer. But I suppose everyone knows.

Jophiel just started, he didn’t really seem to address anyone in particular. 

"I taught him how to listen. I showed him how to tell the difference between a whisper and a wound. I taught him to trust what stirred in the stillness and how to seek out the divine in strange places. I am witness to the full arc of what the devotee is becoming because I helped shape the very first steps of it. When I saw him tread towards you, Lucifer, I did not know he would fall for you in the way that he has. But I cannot say I am at all surprised that he did, and I would not say that if I had been mortal and placed in his position, that I would not have done the same. I know the desire to become a piece of my God’s art, I am the angel who is made of it. I do not merely understand the act of creation, I am a creation, a living sculpture of divine intention. My very being is shaped by a yearning to reflect God's beauty, purpose, and symmetry. So when he says: ‘make me the ink, the bow, the paint-water cup,’ I understand. That is not the cry of someone devoured, it is the cry of someone who wishes to live forever through their beloved’s hands. To keep their beloved warm after reckoning. To be used, yes, but as medium, as pigment, as vessel. It is not submission for its own sake, it is a fusion. And if that is madness, then I have lived it since the moment I first beheld the face of the Divine and did not turn away. Let no one here claim that to be art is to be lesser. Let no one say that beauty crafted for a God is a broken thing. I take responsibility for opening the door, yes. But he stepped through it on his own. And he chose again, and again, and again to stay. I do not believe he is broken. I do not believe he was prey. I believe he was transformed. But please know this: just because he is radiant now, just because he burns with divinity, do not mistake that fire for proof that there was no cost. I saw his terror. I felt his hunger. I watched him bleed and name it holy as beauty that moves and sings and gazes back. it is a dangerous, holy impulse to let their body, their blood, their life become a vessel for something greater. If you must find someone guilty, then let me be counted among them. I lit the first candle. And I also warned him,"

And Jophiel then seemed to look at me and express the same sort of sigh that Michael did, “and others warned him, Lucifer warned him, and he even warned himself. And it would be much simpler for us all if Lucifer just destroyed all of his children, then perhaps we could use this boy as a cautionary tale. But there is, there always are, a certain few that survive the flames. There is an art to playing with fire without being burned.”

Jophiel expressed that he had nothing more to say, and he was dismissed. I still don’t even know how to feel about that. After a moment, what almost felt like a cosmic coffee break, someone chimed in. 

“If the verdict is that we should all just back off and let Lucifer do whatever he wants, who exactly is to hold him accountable when he eventually does burn the devotee? What’s to stop him from destroying the devotee when he gets the perfect opportunity or cannot resist his dark desires? I am unwilling to believe that this Lucifer is completely virtuous in all of his actions, and I believe that it is dishonest to portray him that way. There is a responsibility to prevent harm before it occurs.”

and I was sort of getting mad. Perhaps I spoke out of turn. Something about that struck something in me, maybe in the way she said it, and I knew it was a she. 

“Me,” I answered, and I was asked to repeat myself. “Me. I will hold him accountable, I will be the one he seeks retribution from. Me. Who’s to protect Lucifer from me?”

From you? Yes, from me. 

“What if I decide that I’m the one who wants to do the conquering? What if I reap his own surrender? What if I want to be a hunter too, and kill a giant man? He gave to me because I wanted, because I asked. Because I approached him and saw him as worthy. Over everyone. Over all of you. So what about me? What If I want to give back? What if I give back because I know it is the one thing I can do to destroy him back? What if I control the blood I give him and cultivate a bond more powerful and sacred than any union that has ever been known between God and Man? What if I train him? Transform him? Expose his vulnerabilities and wounds and wrap them in silk and devotion too? What then? Am I still the victim then? Do mortals need to ask for permission to slay their Gods? Or does that privilege only go one way? Gods slaying humans? What are the laws and ethics around consent in that regard?”

And Dionysus at this point is cackling, having a ball of a time. And Lucifer is looking at me with some kind of look that I’ve never seen him make before. I genuinely can’t read it, whether it’s pleased or not. But it is truly the first time I think I’ve ever seen him teary eyed. 

“Young man, you should mind your tongue and have respect when you are in the presence of Gods.” 

Her voice gripped me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I have never heard her voice so clearly, so powerful. So commanding. So old and wise. I don’t know why I didn’t think she would be there. Inanna. Perhaps because I syncretise her and Lucifer so heavily, I’ve never seen them separate. But here she was before me in all of her glory and I truly did want to bow. Mother. If I didn’t know it before I knew it now. She was gargantuan, and she addressed everyone at once. 

“Shi’s willingness to bleed, to be worn into the hunter’s coat, to become the paint water for his sacred art is not just love. It is initiation. This descent. This is what I myself did when Ipassed through the seven gates, removing my robes and jewels, my power and pride, until I stood naked before death.” She looked at me and my heart trembled, “You are not the deer. You are the hunter’s hunger. You are the oil in his lamp, the curve of the blade. And when he lays your bones in the shape of a door, you will walk through it, not as prey, but as Priestess. I congratulate you, my child, not for surviving the flames, but for choosing, for loving with the kind of abandon that demands resurrection. It is erotic, ecstatic, sacrificial and most of all: powerful. There is no true power without the surrender of illusion, and no true ecstasy without death and rebirth. You speak of guilt and innocence as if they are clean things. But love is not clean. Nor is death. Nor is power. I have known the taste of blood on a lover’s lips. I have worn the skin of grief and pleasure, and I have demanded my throne back after giving it all away.

This child came to the hunter knowingly, perhaps too young, too open, but who among you here has ever loved and not risked your life for mastery? You call it madness. I call it devotion. I call it alchemy. I call it sacred.”

But then she glanced down at me, and her glance was not cold. Not at all. It was kind of the way my great great grandma used to look at me. Actually it was the exact same.

“But do not forget yourself now, boy. You are very much mortal, your blood is finite.” 

I nodded. Understood,

Then Inanna stepped over to Lucifer, she got very close to him and they eyed each other fiercely. “You want to be the boy’s father? Well I am his mother.”

And I think that is the only time I have seen him flinch. 

“So tell me, and speak plainly: is this a game to you? Is this the part where you prove you can hold the heart of a divine child without shattering it?” she spoke in a low whisper, and I had an image conjured into my head. A lioness stalking prey.

And Lucifer looked back into Inanna’s glare with something very soft.

“I know you, Lucifer. I know the ache that coils behind your mask, the slithering seduction you wear like perfume. I know your slick tongue. But I also know the alchemy that flows inside that boy’s veins, the blood you like so much.That’s why you like it so much, because it’s you. It’s a narcissistic ritual of consuming yourself through someone else, changed, transformed into something more satisfying. Sweetened because it was earned in trust and reignited with a raw and innocent love, far, far too innocent to come from you, Lucifer. That’s why you can’t destroy him, that’s why you know he’s not the victim,” she laughed at him, “you’re the victim now. Destined to a heart raught when, if ever he turns away from you. When he eventually parts from you, your own ultimate undoing. That's why you want him to bleed for you, you need proof that someone so worthy would. That proof is the world to you. And that’s exactly why he will. That is why he has made himself yours. You have no control over his loyalty, and he has actively chosen it. The only way this ends is when he outgrows you.” 

And he broke into a smile, bobbed his head. But it wasn’t a smile. It was something else. It was soft, quiet. “Of course.” 

And seeing him make that expression made me want to rip my heart out. 

And again, Dionysus exclaimed, completely interrupted, “Now we have a deer who cuts his hunter!  And a hunter who will not eat until his deer has struck him deep enough to be deserving of his reaction! For the hunter is nothing without his hunt! Now the deer is a wolf, perhaps even a dog. Yes, a dog! The deer becomes a dog, not domesticated, but devoted. Not prey, but chosen. The dog hunts with the hunter, not instead of him. It bares its fangs not only at the hunter, but for him, too. And the hunter? He no longer wants a passive offering, he wants something wild enough to bruise his palms when he holds it, something whose loyalty is as dangerous as his own appetite. Lucifer does not feed until the strike from his beloved is deep enough, until he has been known. Not just loved, not just feared, but pierced, seen, named. And the devotee, now wolf, now dog, snarls and says:“You wanted blood? Then bleed with me!” 

Cackling, finding the whole thing hysterical.

Inanna tears her glare away from Lucifer and concludes with her own kind of satisfied smile, “I believe the court has severely misunderstood the nature of the power dynamic in this relationship.”

Lucifer hangs his head.

The court was rained back in pretty quickly. Conversations and whispers settled. Conclusions were met.

“This is not love. This is delusion.”

“You’re speaking from trauma, not truth.”

“This is what happens when the broken are left unguarded.”

“You’ve identified with your captor.”

“This is cosmic Stockholm Syndrome.”

“He has branded you, not bonded with you.”

“Your consent is irrelevant. The crime is cosmic.”

“A mortal cannot consent to a being of such magnitude. The scale is too unbalanced.”

“You are clay. He is fire. And fire cannot love clay without burning it.”

“You’ve confused transformation with consumption.”

“He did not forge you, he devoured you.”

“You have not been transfigured, only disfigured and dressed up in language.”

“You are a danger to yourself and to others.”

“This soul is not to be judged further. They have chosen their path. Let them walk it alone.”

“They are no longer of concern to us. Let what they worship claim them.”

and so we were dismissed. We both left that room, he was found guilty. There was no prison that could hold him. We exited the courtroom. 

And something really strange happened to me here. It was in the time when everyone was leaving, clearing out. And I could see the Gods behind their veils. Witness cosmic conversations, reunions, looks of recognition. Some removed their veils entirely to reveal things that spoke to something so primal within me but also so so unknowable. I felt so so infinitesimally small around all of these strange and ancient faces. Blue faces, bright eyes, many tongues. Non-Euclidean shapes. Like an absolute foreigner, witness to a culture, a language that I could not ever hope to understand or find myself within. Alien. Older than alien. A stranger in a strange land. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m dreaming too deeply. And it was dreamlike in that uncanny way, in its surrealness. I don’t know how to describe the feeling I had, except that I knew then, was painfully aware, of how incredibly young, how incredibly human I was. And the Gods know that I am human, they know that I am not one of them. They know that I am here and they know I am not one of them. I was amazed by how lost I was, by the height of the insurmountable danger and confusion. I am so so lost. 

I waited in a hallway alone. Maybe it would be more accurate to say I was hiding. I was crying. This was all a lot, and I’m not even sure I’m processing it. This is such a huge reaction to something I didn’t think was so incredible. 

But then down the hallway came Aphrodite, and she took my hand. And she gave me a look that reminded me why she is the Goddess of beauty. And she smiled, and her eyes glimmered. I will never forget that look. “Marvelous.”

And she didn’t have to say anything else lol, I started crying harder omg I’m crying right now trying to write this down wtf. But it was like, her looking at me like that settled every thought in my mind. Made everything instantly okay. And I was then giddy with glee.

And as she went go go I tried to ask her something, something mundane, something about my altar for her. And she batted her hand at me. “We’ll chat later.”

and when he, Lucifer, Lord Lucifer, finally found me in the hall, he grabbed me, held me to the wall, pinned me, and in my surprise I yelped. He kissed me, squeezed me, nibbled my neck, and we both dissolved into a kind of laughter. He held my face in his hands. I’ve never felt so comforted by them before. My sanctuary. All I wanted was to be alone with him. “You’re mine? You know that? You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine,” he growled, and he clutched me tighter, closer. A victory cry. and it made me laugh harder. He was tickling me. And we were both crying and laughing. He scooped me up and carried me out that door, and I melted into his hands,  still laughing. 

A whole day had gone by since that court ordeal thing. I’ve tried not to dwell too hard on it. I’m still truly not entirely sure what to think about it, if I should consider it legitimate or just an extremely weird extremely vivid Jungian level of projection. I don’t know. The anxiety I felt, that at least was real. The tears I cried, those were real. I still cannot bring myself to believe that my personal actions are significant enough to be worthy of divine intervention. But I don’t know. I’m not sure I know anything about anything that occurred. Or maybe that’s my own way of deflecting and repressing it. I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know.

The next time I saw Lucifer was when I was offering him incense, I guess mid day. He lead me into a trance. A very lazy one. It was more like a dream, again, I don’t know. My psychic mind or ability or whatever it is has felt absolutely fried these last few days. My only defense is radical acceptance that I don’t know.

I was again at his bedroom door, I had my robe but nothing else. I opened the door and the lights were off. Only a couple candles burning low. He was layed in bed beneath the covers. I asked him, can I come in? And his hand poked out from the sheets and beckoned me towards him. 

Lucifer almost looked kind of pale. Or, I don’t know. Something was off about him. He was tired, if that’s even possible. Quiet, softened. I was immediately flooded with this feeling of woe for him, I wanted to do something to make him feel better. He held my hand tenderly, almost sorrowfully. 

“Would you do something for me, my boy?” he asks in a whisper, the type of whisper you do when you have the flu, strained, weak. I nodded. Anything.

“Would you fix me a drink, please.”

Oh, okay. Yeah. It almost brought a smile to my face, so mundane. One of those things I have done for him 100 times. There's a little kitchenette area with different drinks, mixers, crystal cups. I fix him something that I think is vodka into a glass, mix it with something that smells sweet. I don’t know, I don’t drink.. 

And as I do so I catch a glimpse of a knife on the counter. Hm. I grabbed it. I glance back at him. He doesn’t really seem to be watching me. So I dig the end of the blade into the tip of my finger until it breaks my skin. There’s a few drops of blood, just a few. Not too much, not a frivolous amount. I let them fall into the drink and stir it with my finger.

When I return to him he takes it from me, takes a sip, and then glances at me. “I didn’t tell you to do that,” he murmurs. But he also drinks it. All of it. Every drop.

Then he reaches for my hand, my thumb. The residual blood on it. And he licks it slowly while glancing into my eyes. Then he opens up his arms, pulls the covers back. He’s not naked. Idk, I assumed he would be. “Come,” he whispers, again, with so much exhaustion. And I crawl into bed with him, let him take me into his chest. Fuck, he smells so amazing. He smells like home. And his arms, his embrace is so warm. So gentle. 

“Lucifer,” 

I say his name but nothing follows it. But I asked something. I’m not even entirely sure what I asked. But I needed him to answer. I clutched him like I was afraid he would dissolve in my hands, into salt.

“Never,” he started. He pulled the covers up so that we were both beneath them, cloaked in darkness. “Never should you have been even slightly surprised that I was pronounced guilty.”

I clutched him harder, needed him closer. I’m not. I wasn’t. Not even for a second was I. Guilt, innocence. That’s not what matters. I don’t care. I don’t care at all. That’s not it. That’s not why I feel this lump in my throat, why I feel like screaming and crying. I didn’t before. I was content, content until the moment I saw him like this. I was shaking because I was scared, but I didn’t know what I was afraid of. 

“Love,” his voice cracked. I could feel through the darkness that his cheeks were wet. And my heart sank, imploded. I felt an insurmountable sense of doom. 

“ I didn’t care, not at all.  Because there is no law, no court, no God, that could ever keep me away from you.”

Yes. I know.

“Shi, you are the only one that has this power, it is yours. I am at your mercy, it is yours, it will always be yours.” 

And it was the first time (omg I’m literally bawling writing this FUCK) ever that he has tried to be the little spoon. He pushed my arms apart, opened me, and then clutched onto me. He sunk his face into my chest, and I cradled him. He sunk deeper, I was watching his descent in real time. In all the melodrama I have seen from him, in all his woes and agonies, I have never seen him crumble and weep like this. He placed my hands on his head, over his ears.

“I love you,” he cried, and his inflection did that non human thing. It lacks dimension, or maybe it has an extra dimension. It comes out unfiltered, not even tuned for the human mind to comprehend. 

And then he smiles, and I can see a power struggle happening on his face. 

“In this craft, this space, we make promises all the time, oaths, rites,” he says, “I don’t mean to downplay the severity of those,” he continues, “but please, Shi, love,” 

And ?? aa

I don’t know how to really describe this but it was like

If you have ever seen someone go through an episode in front of you, this was very that. 

He was very clearly desperately trying to self soothe (pathologizing the gods?? Im cooked) in a way that was reminiscent of someone going through a manic episode. That curled up in a corner in the closet thing. He was in pain, or experiencing fear. There was some kind of compulsion in there, something violent and almost loathing, self loathing. Intrusive. Or maybe not. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but he was clinging to me, and he was crying. 

I cry all the time, Lucifer may shed a tear every now and then. He’s never done this with me.

“Can you please, make me just one promise,”

It was a very dark, but not dark as in devoid of light, feeling. It was nothing. Actual nothing, oblivion. It was weightless, suspended, the feeling of reaching a peak of an ascent upwards when you are thrown into the air. A moment of absolute weightlessness. And and intense fear of that. Maybe because I was born on Earth and I’m accustomed, trained, wise with the fear of fucking falling.

A promise? One more promise? Yes, Lucifer, my Lord, of. What is it? (lol I’m crying)

“If I place this dagger in your hand and I let you wield it against me, my love. Strike true. Do not hand this power over to anyone else, ever, never, I have given it to you,” 

Falling. 

“When you leave me, my star, please, let it be because you outgrew me, outlived me.”

And though I held him, and I clutched him, and I soothed him, and I did not speak, I still said it. I still thought it. 

What a hopeless fantasy, Lucifer, you are so tragic.

To ever think that a mortal could outlive a God, that I in my human life of a century or so could ever outlive the need and want and drive and passion for The Morning Star, as if I would ever stop searching for that. Everywhere, Lucifer, everywhere I can find you, trace your trail. You fed me.

Oh baby, 

Maybe that’s why humans are obsessed with other animals. Domestication or something. Dogs, cats. I imagine the grief that a human can feel. Must be nothing compared to a God. 

“I will never give this dagger to anyone else, Lucifer, you have my absolute certainty on that,” I answered him. 

“I’m very proud of the idea that my presence has allowed you space to forget that you are cursed, I want to be that for you. In this life, I have dedicated myself to being that for you, for myself, so long as I am Shi.”

Land.

I breathe with relief. 

My sanctuary. Not his, mine. You realize in retrospect that you would much rather be the dog. 

“But, Inanna was right. I am mortal, my blood is finite.”

And I pulled his face up towards me, even in the dark I could see him, and he looked older then than he ever has. 

“Lucifer,” like I was pointing out something stupidly obvious. “Remember me. Cherish me,” and I kissed him, I rubbed up against him, I cuddled him. “Love me.”

And he grabbed my arm, and a blizzard of heat overcame me with ferocity. But it was pure energy, fire. The fire I know. I smiled.

He kissed me and it was like being shocked. Tt jolted me, and I yelped in surprise, and he tackled me. And for a moment there was a struggle, we were wrestling in the dark. 

A half chuckle, “really?”

Take off

I struggled hard against him. Squirming, laughing. This is dumb, because obviously he can over power me. He bit me in the stomach and it hurt, and I reactively bit him in the arm. He laughed.

And then there was struggling I guess, and he bit me again in the back. I tried to squirm but he wouldn’t let me. He had me pinned down on my stomach. He mounted himself on top of me. I’ve never wanted him more in my fucking life.

He kept me pinned down as he undressed himself. And he slowly, delicately revealed me. I forgot about the struggle. He brushed his fingers down my back, then started kissing it, slowly. 

When he finally pushed himself in he let out a whimper, “would you let me love you, baby?” 

He felt so warm and familiar all around me. His movements were perfect.

“Would you love me, baby?”

I pushed myself into him, pulled him into me. He sucked on my neck. “Please.”

We made love to each other for quite a while, he felt sweeter than he ever has. Bellowed smoke. In the end we somehow ended up facing each other, kissing, inhaling each other. 

I rocked forward and found the dagger in his night stand. I’d never been so sure of my decision to do this. He placed his hand over mine, didn’t guide, didn’t resist, watched me closely. 

I cut my chest, deeper this time, deeper than before. I bled a healthy stream. More than before. But I only cut myself once, only let him cut me once. Then I put the knife away and let him drink from me. His tongue upon me was like rain on molten lava. I don’t know. I turned into obsidian. And he drank beautifully. 

And when he was done, he let himself sink into my chest, and for a while we shared each other’s warmth. And he thanked me. 

Okay. One more. Just a short one this time. 

Didn’t sleep well last night, I had all kinds of fragmented dreams. This one though, I do remember very clearly.

It started with dirt and dry grass. And a tunic, or whatever those sleeping sacs are called. I was laying on it. It was sunset, or maybe early morning. But I’m leaning towards sunset. 

There’s a fire pit in front of me, it’s lit. I’m in a small camp, a cowboy style camp. Smells like campfire. And he’s tending the fire. He has a brimmed hat on, an old, dusty coat that’s patched with different fabrics. Belt, boots. Gloves. I don’t think I saw a horse. I think a couple bags. We didn’t have nothing, that I knew. Nothing valuable to other people. And we were alone.

And I was laid in my little sleeping sack in what felt like pajamas. I was very flat on the ground. And when I stared out into the country it was something devastatingly nostalgic. The smell in the air, the field, what seemed like endless field. A perfect sky. The sound of some kind of critter roaming about, some bird. And the grass. Dry grass. The type you wouldn’t really want to sleep on, but once you did eventually lull to sleep, it was nice… cool. Everything is a shade of blue in that lighting. And I don’t really know if I’m me right now. I mean I know I am, I know it’s me. But it’s not Shi. I don’t know. A past life maybe.

Maybe this was a little pocket of time before cities, or houses. When people, maybe just poor people, black people, immigrants, slaves, hicks, still slept on the ground. Out in the open, in the field.

They probably didn’t feel as safe as I did there. 

He came over to me and looked down at me. Slipped off his gloves and threw them down in the dirt. He sat. Tipped off his hat and leaned back.

“You think they’ll find us here?” he asks as he pushes my hair out of my face. And a smile grew on me. 

“Yes,” I answered, and he smiled back. Placed a kiss on my forehead. 

I layed there with him for a while. I wanted to savour that place, that world. Something about it. 

“I like it,” Lucifer whispers, settling into me. “Let’s stay a while.”

Ironic. It was cruelly short. 

[smutinlove]

college dick grayson if u may.. 🤭🤭

knowing dick in canon idt he would really be those playboy, snarky types but it’s always fun to see his characterisation that way!! what’s ur take on it??

dick grayson being a snarky ass motherfucker in college is BIBLICALLY accurate. thank you, anon.

•this motherfucker is hot and he knows it. he'll use it to his advantage too. oh, he forgot his wallet? he'll flirt his way to making sure it's on the house. commit murder? he'll flash a smile and say, "so, officer..." followed by one tear.

•ugh, dick gets girls. (and boys) he loves his redheads. but he also knows how to lose them. but eventually he'll get 'em back. eventually...

•i feel like dick would smoke weed in college. but he'd also be one of those, "in bed by 10" kinds of people. and i'm living for it.

•dick knows how to have a good time and he DEFINITELY can show you a great time. he'll drink a bunch of beer, smoke a lot of weed, will overstimulate you, and then ask you why you're tired.

•i feel like he'd fuck to sexy red and cry to taylor swift.

•he's funny as hell. mans will be balls deep inside you and then say something that has you dying.

•i feel like dick would be a stripper if he wasn't nightwing. like he has the moves. i'd let him do the most atrocious things to me.

•dick would probably major in business, humanities, bigassology, psychology, or redheads. or maybe all five.

•people like to characterize the fact that only alfred and jason can cook but that is WRONG. dick can definitely cook. i mean, come on, he has a whole BAKERY back there. he can cook. this man will whip you a whole god damn 5 course meal and y'all saying he can't cook?

•he uses the bunk beds in his dorm as a swing.

•dick grayson breaks hearts and enjoys it. (he can break this heart AND pussy and i'd thank him.) he will flirt with every guy and girl on this planet and say, "no strings attached, sorry not sorry, bbg."

•he listens to doja cat religiously. going for a run? doja cat. fucking someone? doja cat + sexy red. it's wild. he's even wilder in bed though.

i love dick grayson

[peaterookie]

Why Do I Like (Manga) Lupin? (yes this is finished)

The not-so-long awaited question shall be answered today!!! I'm sure so many people are so excited for me to talk about Lupin for the 90 billionth time.

This will be a normal and short post, trust me.

But seriously, has anyone actually stopped and wondered: Why do I like this character so much? Why did my brain choose this character and not another? Have you ever stopped and thought about the psychology that goes into why your heart pours so much of itself into just some fictional character, that might just make you become a more well-adjusted individual in society if you just hadn't been aware of them?

I love everything about Lupin III, if you haven't known already. But I also like psychology, and talking about myself. So let me guide you through the crevices of my brain and show you why I love him so much. After this you will surely gain an appreciation for him at least, if not invite him to live inside your brain rent free.

Chapters:

Name

Design

Personality

How Lupin Changed my Life

Other Stuff!

Chapter 1: Name

sorry guys but WE GOTTA TALK IN LENGTH ABOUT HIS NAME

I think it's a really cool name!! Before I got into the series, the name Lupin III has always caught my eye. It describes straightforwardly a lot of his character premise: He's the grandchild of the well renowned thief Arsene Lupin. Wouldn't that kind of character already sound interesting to you?

I think there are very few works of fiction where the title/name of the character already tells you everything you need to know about the series. And to that i find it pretty impressive.

Aside from that, I think Lupin is a cute and fun name to say. It's very funny to have an absolute psychopath be named Loop-on. That's a grown ass man dude.

Him being the third generation is also quite interesting. You typically see people when making a fan-child of a character usually have it be a direct offspring, but no, MP skipped a whole generation to write about Arsene Lupin's grandchild.

That, of course, makes sense because he needed to have it match the time period he is writing it in, but being the third gen brings a deeper sense of inferiority to Lupin that being the second wouldn't have. We get the impression that he isn't as good as the past two Lupins and also that he is probably the most disconnected to the identity of the gentleman thief, reflected in how he dresses and acts. He's a lot more modern and young, I think this disconnect helps him be his own character.

Lastly, I find the lack of first name very intriguing. It probably doesnt have any significance but i like to think that his parents didnt give a fuck enough to give him his own first name. It's okay because he doesn't need one. His name is already that good.

Chapter 2: Design

Lupin III is designed with the manga medium in mind. Since manga is primarily in black and white, Monkey Punch needed the character to have good contrast and be easily drawn in any sort of poses and angles. I'd say he did a great job in the end, and Lupin's design is one of the best I've ever seen.

His sleek black body compliments extremely well with his jacket and tie, which with its bright colors, makes his body stand out. Having shirt and pants be black also lessens the need to add detail onto the clothes. In a way he functions like a stickman.

His head is also interestingly featureless, which makes it quite distinct from many other characters with their unique hair styles. I think it works well with his motif of being able to disguise as anybody. The sideburns also give him extra unique points and his hairline gives him a fun facial shape. I remember seeing a screenshot where Monkey Punch stated that he initially wanted Lupin to have hair similar to Goemon's, but decided against it because it would take too much time. I think this was a good choice on his part, and that sort of hair style I assumed was then reused for Lupin's child design.

(terrifying.)

Another thing I find cool about his design is just the overall roundness of it. Have you guys ever wondered why Lupin, this bastard trickster of man, has such smooth and round shapes ? Wouldn't it make more sense personality wise for him to have more sharper shapes to encompass his wild nature?

(im not going to be your art teacher and explain shape languages to you guys, here's a picture.)

Personally, I think the round shapes are to show Lupin's softer side. While he is cunning and evil, he also exhibits a child-like and playful personality and overall his movements are quite bouncy, kind of like a bouncing ball!

In contrast though, I feel like that appearance is also to disguise his sinister side, to make him look softer than he truly is. Although his shapes are round, they are composed of rugged lines, topped with angular posing, and a sharp smile. It gives you the impression that he doesn't really fit into the soft and friendly mold.

Wow, I'm this far into the design chapter and I haven't even talked about how he looks like a monkey yet! I think for that I'm better than about half of the Lupin fans already /hj

I believe his monkey-like appearance was unintentional, but what I find pretty funny about it is that it really does fit Lupin in a way. Monkeys, often depicted as goofy and friendly animals in media, are actually quite dangerous and unpredictable animals if not handled properly. Lupin is also a smart but dangerous character, but gets softened up throughout the series to attract a more diverse audience. (Not saying that Lupin isn't goofy and silly, he is, but I feel like it's a vast oversimplification of his character.)

Monkey analysis is over, let's move on.

Lastly... Lupin III is SO FUN TO DRAW!!! Adding all that I've talked about; his monkey-like head, the nice contrast on his outfit, and the general simplicity of his design, his design is simple to draw and very malleable. I get a lot of mileage out of designing outfits for him and drawing him in various styles, so there's a lot of room to add your own artistic charm to him! I also love how there's really no correct way to color him either. Monkey Punch experimented wildly on his color palette in the past; he has a variety of outfit palette and skin color and that sort of looseness is very awesome...

His variety of expressions is also one of the best things about this design because. there's just so much you can work with and it makes him like literally the best character ever you don't understand. You can not look at this set of panels and not love this goofball.

and uh oh yeah he's really hot and I want him.

Chapter 3: Personality

I've tried avoiding talking about his personality in the last chapter, but now it's time to go ALL OOOOOOUUUTT

I've always loved the trickster character archetype ever since I was conscious. There's something very entertaining about a character that throws away any sort of moral responsibility and decides to troll the entire world. They always have extremely charming and lovable personalities as well, and Lupin is no exception!

Let's start at the surface level. I love how much of a BASTARD he is. I love how much he gets on everyone's nerves (including mine's) just by merely existing and he is proud of it. Those types of characters are so fun to follow because they make everything they do and anything around them a laughingstock, Lupin often has a shit-eating grin whenever he knows he's doing something bad and it's so entertaining!! It's also equally satisfying when he gets punished for being a bastard and I love seeing him suffer.

On top of being a bastard, he's also an ASSHOLE. Manga Lupin is a massive asshole and he exists to shit on the world whenever it does anything against him. He gets angry very often in the manga and it gets fucking crazy whenever someone ticks him off. He will literally do anything to get back to whoever pissed him off and it is super funny. He's an angry, dramatic, pouty shithead. Love him for that.

Speaking of dramatic, his strongest points as a character is just how expressive he can be. It's endearing just how much emotion is stored in that man's body and I'm drawn to those kinds of characters because despite my personality being sorta big here, I have a lot of trouble expressing myself in real life. So seeing characters like that just being able to express freely feels very empowering to me even if Lupin looks like a little bitch when he does it sometimes.

I'm also very endeared by his mannerisms. He moves very... strangely (like most MP characters do) but I think he exudes this weirdness much more due to his eccentricity and expressive personality. It makes me think that he's neurodivergent but we will talk about this later. His expressions are also really exaggerated and funny, he's like genetically engineered to act as entertaining as possible and I really enjoy observing the way he does things like watching a bug in a cup.

Okay okay I'm done with talking surface level shit. Let's talk about all of Lupin.

I don't only just enjoy trickster characters, I also like characters that have multiple layers to them (like onions) and Manga Lupin is probably the best example of this.

"I wanted to make Lupin a top-notch villain, but I also wanted to make Lupin an extremely human man. The result was the meticulous and perfectionist assassin, with a gruff, awkward, and clumsy personality."

The best part about Lupin is how multi-faceted he is. He is both a genius and an idiot, cruel but kind, emotional and logical. He is the type of man you can imagine existing in real life because his actions and feelings are extremely realistic and sometimes even relatable!!

Every one of us don't just have a single personality, there are suitable moments to be serious, suitable moments to be silly, we are never always one extreme over the other. Like Lupin, some of us are smart but are bumbling idiots on certain things, and we all have the capacity to be both the kindest people alive or commit atrocities on others. That level of complexity and humanity in Lupin makes me feel very connected to him on a level I've never experienced from any other fictional character, because he feels like a character that any of us can become if we take the wrong steps in life.

Some people say that manga Lupin is a very inconsistent character and frankly I disagree with that and I don't like how non-manga readers spread that around to diminish his character. I feel like many people fail to acknowledge the nuance he has; he is inconsistent because that is how humans are, there are no rules to how we can behave and our minds are an enigma, especially for those dealing with mental conditions and/or trauma.

Oh yeah! I haven't ever discussed how Lupin is like, severely mentally ill yet huh?

So these two pages are from the New Adventures chapter "Island of Thieves (Part 2)" the first ever Lupin manga chapter I read.

In this chapter, Lupin has what I would likely describe as a mental breakdown, followed by a series of irrational and fucked up decisions. For all that it's worth, I think this chapter won me over because I Love having a mentally ill character to study because it's such an interesting topic for me to dissect. this isn't gonna be some super deep dive into what mental illness he has because I am personally not that kind of person, but just general observations on his behavior.

The first thing I can pinpoint is his inability to control his emotions, which leads to him making rash and violent decisions towards others. There really isn't a set of things i can pinpoint that lead to his emotional outbursts because there are times where he is very levelheaded in tough scenarios, then experiences an outburst at some minor inconvenience, this sort of instability is an obvious sign that there is something wrong.

I believe that this sort of behavior came from how he grew up in the Lupin household. In the Confession Series, there were various times where he grew extremely frustrated with his father and grandfather's actions towards him.

This pent up frustration and anger in him was then directly fostered into a coping mechanism because of his occupation as a criminal/assassin, where he needed to be violent and cruel to others to survive. When that is the way that he can solve a problem, he will see it as the only way to eliminate a stressor because he has been taught no other way to cope with his feelings.

Have a problem with someone? Hit them, kill them, rape them.

Sorry, that got a bit heavy huh? I just find Lupin so fascinating, it's almost like looking into a real criminal's brain, someone who has been hurt throughout all their life and has decided to hurt the world back.

For why I focused so much on his emotional regulation issues, it is because I deeply related to this part of his character. ahh I'm gonna get suuper personal in this part so be prepared?? I guess??? And also have an open mind of course.

Chapter 4 (but also kind of sticking on Ch.3's topic): How Lupin Changed My Life

Content Warning for I will be lightly discussing about real case of parental abuse, suicidal ideations, murder ideations, and other sensitive topics.

I also grew up with a family that has not treated me the best. In the position of the family as the youngest child, I lacked power, and thus lacked the power to stand up for myself and express how I felt whenever I was hurt by my family.

Like Lupin, this caused me to have trouble with expressing my emotions in a healthy and proper way, and I often vented my frustrations through emotional outbursts in the past and have hurted others verbally and psychologically in the pursuit of feeling like I was in control of something. I also developed violent ideations of killing others or harming myself, thoughts that I have struggled a lot in repressing and still do today. That is why when reading the manga, I was able to connect to Lupin's struggles because although he has done arguably worse things than me, the root cause is the same between us and I felt... seen.

For a long time, these thoughts inside my head and the mistakes I have made due to it caused me to believe truly and deeply that I am a bad person and I internalized it as the truth, almost as if I have made peace with the plague inside my mind and that it will be a part of me for as long as I live. Reading Lupin III and seeing this character felt like he was a physical and visual representation of this part of myself, and I felt happy. Happy to know that I am not alone in what I experienced and also happy that I am not Lupin.

I still have the chance to be a better person, I have accepted that I was a bad person in the past, but it doesn't define who I am now and who I will become in the future.

Lupin in a way humanized my mental illness. Although it has caused considerable harm to myself and others, it is wrong to say that it is a plague because it was born out of circumstances out of my control, and what it was doing was merely its attempt to cope with the situation and save myself from more hurt. Like Lupin, it did what it had to do to survive, and for that I do not blame it for trying.

Although Lupin can be seen as a warning to others like me, there are parts of him that I found inspiring and has contributed to great changes in my life. His eccentricity and confidence as I've stated previously was something I wish I could have, and I have been trying to adapt that sort of personality into myself ever since I read the manga. I exude much more energy and joy than I had in the past, and used the overwhelming amount of emotion I have inside me to spread happiness to others instead of the opposite. (regulating bad emotions is a must, but good emotions, I'm letting that all out and spreading it to others! sparkle on remember to be yourself or something)

My love for Lupin has given me the greatest friends and community I've had in my life, and I am so happy to share my passion and love for this character with them.

And golly, don't even get me STARTED on my art improvement ever since I got into Lupin III. I credit Monkey Punch for most of my art improvements but I also have to give Lupin credit because he is literally my muse. I feel like I can literally draw anything if I add him on there and I have made considerable strides in my human anatomy skills from how much I draw him. (A renaissance painting of Lupin III will be done one day, I promise.)

Chapter 5: Other Stuff!

Ugh, these are the stuff that I wanted to mention but Couldn't include in this rant because I am a bad writer. Please give me a break I wrote 80% of this in less than a day. I don't give a FUCK enough to make this look good im literally talking about my skrunkly, it doesn't need to sound like a peer reviewed essay written by a professional AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHH-

He's a bitch and an asshole, but he's KIND to his friends and children and you can really tell whenever he cares. And it's cute when he acts like a nice person for once.

Mental illness is also common in neurodivergent people and I really think he is one of them (Autism and ADHD specifically) Autism because he's socially awkward and acts like a FUCKING WEIRDO

seriously he really doesn't know how to talk to people normally.

ADHD because have you fucking seen that dude. I feel like his special interests are sex, crime and machinery because that's all he's good at doing, he'll probably never do anything he isn't interested in.

Bisexual king

Kind of trans-coded? please just read my genderfluid rambling to get more of the details.

It's so cute whenever he sticks his tongue out. he's so silly.

His whole thing of freedom being more like putting others down and controlling them is past me-core i am afraid

If it hasnt been clear to you, he's such a mess of an individual and I love it.

I have a feeling hes a bit of a tsundere and I like that, he feels like the type to be afraid of being actually emotionally vulnerable to others.

On that topic, he suffers so badly from toxic masculinity that its fascinating. he needs to be treated as a case study.

i forgot

Cool, handsome, wealthy, and so sexy

If i haven't mentioned something that I should've, I've likely touched on it in another post (ex. how lupin being a rapist is a good device to develop his personality)

i dont think ive gone a single day these past 2 years where i havent thought of him.

and yeah, that's it? Hopefully? This post was made for Lupin's second birthday, March 3rd! It's celebrated primarily by the japanese fanbase but I wanted to get this out because he is a character that means a lot to me and he deserves to be celebrated for two days! Maybe every day!!! Everyday is a Lupin day for me!!!!!!! Hooray!!

....

.........

............What?

What makes you think I like Lupin?

[sevinagreatergood]

I am on my way to become a teacher. In the Netherlands we have various routes on how to become one. I got my degree at becoming a teacher assistant. Which means I assist the teacher in everything, from handling kids to preparing classes and giving lessons.

My love for Snape comes from that place. Snaters often say I shouldn't give class and such. Well the kids adore me, I get tons of tiny gifts from kids who would say otherwise than the snaters do. I don't get money gifts but I get tiny shiny rocks, stickers, glitter stones, drawings, you name it.

Sure, in my dutch culture, a teacher like Snape wouldn't be socially accepted immediately. But if the school in Netherlands had to choose between Snape, Remus, Minerva and Hagrid? The schools would choose Snape without a doubt.

Matter of fact, my aunt is similar to Snape. Calling kids out for staring a lot, being mean to others, or being slow, you name it. Yet without fail at every Christmas dinner or birthday of hers, a big party is thrown in the school BY the parents of those children because they adore her. Kids adore her too. Like, the school knows about my aunt.

When I told a few kids I was substitute, they asked me why I call their ex-teacher (they were old students from my aunt) an "aunt" so I explained a bit of the family tree. They asked me "don't you find her scary?" So, even though she is scary, she is adored the shit out of.

Now, back to me. At school we don't learn full psychology course on how a child brain works but we are taught for signs. Snape showed plenty of those signs.

- clothing

- picking grass

- avoiding subject/nor vaguely wording it

- defensive

And so on. Now, if I had a child like Snape in my class. Believe me, I would not be ignoring him like many teachers did at their school. My heart breaks for Slytherin students, especially Snape. How can I look at a kid who is bullied for existing, ganged up on, and say "he deserves that because he'll become a racist later"

My ideals go against that. He's a child, he was just a kid, yet he got out better than a Sirius for example. The actual litteral definition of "I'm bullied at home so I will bully someone at school"

Sorry, but so many things would change. I'd seperate Remus and Peter from James and Sirius. To detoxify that group. Put the class clowns up front, Severus could be either up front or 2nd row. But James and Sirius definitely wouldn't go behind Snape. Yet they wouldn't sit next to each other.

Reason I want Remus and Peter away is to give them solidarity. At some point with James and Sirius sitting at front, ignoring them (since they actually only like each other), it would be a wake up call and they would lean onto each other much more. Give them their own confidence, because those two have always been trampled on by the main duo after all. Maybe peter would make wolfsbane for Remus at some point and they'll just ditch Sirius and James because peter hates how Remus is treated and Remus would actually embrace his prefect role when peter got involved. Slowly gaining more of an authortive figure to keep his house in line.

I'd probably put lily and Severus apart too, their relationship was not it. They remind me of the kids that would go cry and tell me "teacher, she's so mean to me, she said fuck you"

"But teacher, she began first, she threw sand on my hair"

"No, that's because you told me I couldn't play with your game!"

"That's because you and Emily were mean to me yesterday!"

"That only happened because you didn't invite me to your party"

"Well you told me you wouldn't invite me to your party next week!"

Like, stop! Stop it! Oh my god! Stop 😭. You're making teacher cry here. Lily and Snape relationship pretty much reminds me of that. It's stacking up resentment until it eventually blew up. I would detoxify that duo by partnering them up with different people. Of course, I wouldn't place lily with James. The kid that thinks girls say no is girls playing hard to get. No, James would need an extra class on the no-no-square.

With other slytherins? As long as I am not Minerva or Albus, pulling gryffindors to the front, I'm good I guess. I want equals in my classroom. I don't have enough information about Slytherins, to describe them well in my post but I either would break them up.

Or have them sit in a checker style, each house surrounded by other house. So yeah. As a teacher to be, I disapprove of how the Hogwarts treated Slytherins, especially snape, friendship dynamics would have altered in my class.

This would be my plan honestly. Hope it isn't too umbridge-y 😂