#maybe cause it evokes all the same feelings

[pinkeoni]

idek where that s3 sleepover pic came from but. Will brings his teddy to every sleepover and none of his friends make fun of him for it and that’s canon. To me.

[mattsdolll]

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . friends with benefits? not really. was it casual when matt kissed you with no strings attached? was it casual when you were tangled in each others bedsheets every night without apprehension? was it casual when you were in love? and nobody even knew. angst with a happy ending !!, i tried to write this with as dramatic as possible cus😁 pls pretend the header matches the fic

"dream of us in a year , maybe we'd have an apartment"

2.1k words

enjoy🤍

you dreaded the day this would happen, it was bound to. you fell hard and fast. pathetically, you were infatuated by him. you stirred out of your unconsciousness, staring at the cracked ceiling paint, you were supposed to fix that months ago, he was supposed to fix it with you. that emptiness in your heart was something only he ever fulfilled. warm summer nights faded into grey snowy evenings, alone in your bed. you hated it, but you could never hate him.

his lips pressed into yours gently, his touch tender. he worked his way down to your neck, evoking a gasp from you. he had such a way of putting you in a lovesick daze, it was sickening. you watched the boy prod and push his lips into your flesh admiringly, you marveled at his features. he pulled his head out of your neck, staring down at you lovingly. he smiled sheepishly, causing you to chuckle. he always had this stupid smile on his face when he was with you, like a little kid at a toy shop. it didn't last long, though.

you scrolled through your messages, tears running down your cheeks as you re-read old texts from him.

9:43am. "I love you soo much, I hope you have the best day ever, can't wait to take you to the beach later, the ocean brings out your eyes a lot"

you threw your phone down on your bed, a teary mess. your mascara flooded from your clamped eyelashes, spilling down your cheeks. you couldn't take this heartbreak, it was killing you. that day, he brought you to the beach knowing how much you adored it. you played in the waves like you would do as a child. he brought out the best in you. he watched the sunset with you, he kissed you. your gaze was fixed upon the sky as you watched the sun slowly begin to set, the sky lit orange and pink. when the sun went down, he was looking at you. he tilted your jaw to face him and mouthed a soft "i love you" before connecting your lips. you kissed him back with just as much pressure.

you ended up making out under the sunset for ages, his hands firmly on your waist as he brought you on his lap. he didn't want sex, he didn't want anything, he just wanted to be with you, to hold you close. he loved you so deeply he couldn't even view you under a lustful gaze. that night he took you home, he washed your hair for you, brushed it out and made you dinner. did i mention it was casual? you felt sick to your stomach at the thought of it.

the same boy who used to wipe your tears when you cried, the same boy who comforted you when things were rough at home, was the same boy who drifted furthest from you. it was momentary, it wasn't healthy at the time. you weren't ready for a relationship, you didn't know how to love. he sat you down one night on your bed, explaining how he felt. the words still lingered in your thoughts, bleeding into your once fond memories of him.

"listen, i don't know what we are, okay? i like you, a lot. i don't wanna lose you sweet girl but i can't be all you have, you need to rely on other things to make you feel better, 's not healthy..i know its hard, but we need to take a break, find yourself, go out and see the world f'me, yeah? i'm gonna find you again, we just need to take things slower."

you hated to admit he was right. you both rushed things and fell too hard. you were too attached. the tears stung your eyes as you barely responded,

"i know, i know, i can't keep running to you for every little problem i just- things are really hard, i'm gonna get better, okay? promise you'll wait for me?"

"promise."

he promised.

he gave you one last long, emotional hug before cutting contact for months. months.

it had been nearly three months since you'd seen your favorite boy, the grief eating you alive. you wished you'd held that kiss a few seconds longer, held him a little tighter, loved him better. you had to get better, for yourself and for him. you held your phone shaky in your hands, the screen slippery from your tears that leaked from your eyes as you typed. he hadn't blocked you, how could he ever leave you? you typed out a rough paragraph, you felt pathetic. you hit send, sitting anxiously in your bed. it had been too long, you craved his touch. you saw the message say delivered, now you had to wait.

you had felt unwell for weeks, your apartment a mess, dishes crowding the kitchen sink whenever you found the energy to cook for yourself instead of ordering yet again another takeout. you were miserable, to say the least.

your phone lit up, vibrating repeatedly, you scrambled to pick it up, checking your notifications. you almost couldn't believe he'd replied. not that he had a reason not to, it was just nostalgic. you read the notification, a simple message illuminating your screen.

"i can come over in a half hour, is that okay?" you replied with a 'yes' and put the phone down. you instantly began anxiously pacing around your apartment. did he wait? does he still love me? am i good enough for him? the thoughts raced through your head, the only thing snapping you out of them was your doorbell ringing.

you didn't even care how you looked, or if you were in pajamas with messy hair. you nearly stumbled into the door, shakily twisting the gold colored door knob. you were met by his blue iris, his gaze gentle. his hair was a little messy, he clearly rushed out the house. his hair was cut slightly shorter, it framed his face a lot. you exhaled deeply as his arms flew around your waist into a soft embrace. you hugged him back, around his neck. he gently picked you up off the ground, squeezing you against his body. "oh, pretty i missed you."

you felt at peace, he provided a sense of solace that soothed your mind. you hadn't felt this comforted in months, gently holding him closer. matt didn't try to kiss you, touch you, or anything. he just went straight for a hug, it was all he needed and he knew it was the same for you. some would consider it toxic, how you'd called him after nearly half a year of no contact, but today you could barely even hold yourself together, you needed him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

matt knew you struggled with severe anxiety, worse than his. your brain would spiral and it would become unbearable to the point you couldn't even speak. he would sit you down, hold you in his embrace and soothe your thoughts. you couldn't go a day without having yet another flare up or panic attack, it only worsened when he left. you choked up slightly at the feel of his touch, he gently walked you to your room, still hugging you.

"look at you" he mumbled to himself, he didn't find your disheveled state unattractive or ugly, instead he found this side of you perfect. it was natural, it was human. he felt some sort of awe knowing that you only went to him in times like these, that you had created such a safe space with him, no matter what terms you were on. maybe you weren't together or sneaking into each other windows anymore, you never really were together, anyways. but there was still so much love. he sighed to himself, laying you down in bed and getting in next to you, wrapping an arm gently around your shoulder. it killed you that it wasn't skin to skin, cuddling, his head in your neck, but then again you couldn't expect that of him, right?

wrong.

he tugged you on top of his chest, snuggling into your neck since he knew you hated people touching your hair. he made sure to drape the blanket over you just the way you liked it. you gazed up at him. "why are you doing this for me? i don't get it" he chuckled. how could you? "you think i don't know how you are by now? i know you, pretty." pretty. that nickname was your favorite, it was your favorite because only he got to call you that. he stared at you lovingly, not with lust or desire, with pure adoration and innocence. he was the embodiment of gentleness.

"i left you, matt. i threw away everything we had." you choked out, tears instantly forming in your eyes. he wiped them instantly, shushing you. "shh,and i don't care, okay? that doesn't change how i feel about you, i know it was for the best..i forgive you, i'm not mad at you, you're allowed to feel, okay?" you nearly shattered then and there. after all this time, he still loved you despite everything. "i left you too, remember? it's not your fault i love you." he whispered, comforting your cries.

he placed a soft gentle kiss to the crown of your head. were you ready for this? were you "better"? you weren't sure, but you wanted his presence, his sweet touch. you desperately craved him. your love for matt ran deeper than the cells beneath your skin, you could never hate him, more so you had a particular illusion of hatred toward yourself.

a now familiar warmth filled your chest as he clasped your frame in his arms, he stroked his hands up and down your back as you erupted into a fit of sobs. nothing about this was casual to you nor him, you practically dated, just without a label. you only began calming down after nearly half an hour.

"you're okay, i'm sorry." he whispered. how was he sorry? he had nothing to be sorry for, it was your fault, you hated yourself for this very reason. matt didn't see you that way. he never perceived you the way the rest of the world did. he saw something special in you that not even you could see. "i hate that i let this drag on so long, i wish i never walked away." you whispered, a soft almost plea for him to forgive you. he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. you eased into his mouth, melting together. the kiss was much softer than anything you had before with him. no, he was never rough with you, he wouldn't dream of it, but something about this was so consolatory.

"you know what? fuck this, yeah? let's start over, you and me, pretty. we can forget everything and start again" he mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. you thought over what he said, honestly it wasn't a terrible idea. it was methodical, however you couldn't just forget everything, the smiles and laughs, the sobs and sorrows, every single second spent together with matt felt like an eternity. you put your thoughts aside, nodding your head. he didn't mean to forget, just to forgive and take a step forward.

"yeah? you wanna?" he beamed, giggling softly. oh how you missed that smile. you nodded once again, causing him to launch on top of you, smothering you in kisses.

"gosh pretty i missed you—missed this" he murmured against your flesh. you were one again, body and soul. you were filled by that familiar sense of relief, you missed him more. you laid tangled between the sheets for what felt like decades, just holding each other, talking. you loved him, things couldn't get more perfect.

or could they?

just a few months later, you found yourself in his bed. you had moved out of your shitty apartment, and into his small place near the beach. the air was crisp, salty. you crawled out of bed, making a cup of coffee, you could just be. you spent your days with matt, bathing in sunlight, your life was enliven.

you sat on the porch, watching the waves. matt scurried out of the house, eager to sit with you. he placed your drinks down—two glasses of wine. he snuggled up next to you, his head resting on your chest. you draped a shabby throw-over atop your bodies, leaning against him.

"so pretty, so so pretty" he mumbled softly, as you were staring out at the sunset before you, he was looking at you. you diverted your attention to him with a small smile, leaning down to press a small kiss to his wine stained lips.

just mere weeks ago you both would dream of times like these. you were finally happy.

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1 @bernardsgfs @sturnsxplr-25 @jetaimevous @aesthetixhoe @alyrasturnz @adorsturns @cvntytiger

[randomness-is-my-order]

the pjo show’s cinematography is so warm and homey and clever and detail-oriented so i wanna compile a few of my favourite still shots because why not??

^this one had me smiling so hard, not because it’s a particularly beautiful shot but the framing of the three is so well done. the focus is on sally who is talking to grover (both prominently in the front of the shot) while percy – who isn’t a part of the conversation but a listener of it – is still properly visible through the glass of the door and like??? i just think it’s a super cool way of having a passive character in the shot that i haven’t ever seen before, in a way that percy is both highlighted and still so clearly in the background that it doesn’t take away from the focus characters. also percy’s sweater matching the colours on the door is the cherry on top!!

^next is this one. it’s so perfectly angsty and though not complete, the symmetry is still eye-catching. it encapsulates the feeling percy must experience in that moment–him, amidst destruction, knowing he’s the cause but not knowing how or why. he looks all of twelve with his haphazard hoodie and almost forlorn look. he is not gloating, he is not cheerful. though he doesn’t know the gravity of his parentage, it’s almost like the show is telling us that his powers–which cause the door to break, too btw–will always be a source of isolation for percy. he is a force of nature, a destructive one most of the time, and the fact that he is just a child who is confused will never matter because this world doesn’t care for childhood but godhood alone.

idk, this shot just evokes a very unsettling kind of sadness for me. i think it’s beautifully framed.

^i absolutely love this one simply for the fact that the sheer struggle of the fight is so prominently visible. and yes, i cheated, this isn’t exactly a still shot but like an action sequence screenshot but whatever, it’s too good to not mention it here. the way percy is, honest to gods, bracing against the spear for his dear life, the evident and overwhelming rage on clarisse’s face, the blocking of the scene – it’s perfect. clarisse is not playing and percy is genuinely in danger and i love how this shot and the whole scene really sold us on that fact.

^ i just think it’s extremely cool that we can see the minotaur howling in pain, percy having his mouth wide open as if he’s letting out a yell as he goes to plunge the horn and that as percy does this act–killing the minotaur–which is surefire source of safeguarding himself and grover, something that will get him to camp, we can see thalia’s tree in the background. there is no reason percy had to make the kill here, with the chaos of the fight, so the fact that this is the spot and this is the shot as he kills the minotaur makes me think it’s deliberate. having thalia in the background is so impactful because again, percy could have met a similar fate in some other alternate universe but here, he wins and he survives.

^ do i even need to explain??? the shot is pretty and beautiful and almost magical. percy, alone with a tin of fire, burning blue food and talking to his mother. maybe one thing i can point out is that the sally-percy bond has been heavily indicated through glowing lights since the start. if you recall, the “you are not broken” speech by sally was given in front of the warm, glowing headlights of the car and percy’s face was illuminated by that warmth just the same way it is illuminated by the tin-fire in the forest.

^ first, this is too fucking gorgeous. second, percy is wearing his red jacket again and this dream happened after he reached camp so in my opinion, this dream was initially a comfortable imagining of percy’s mind and was then hijacked by kronos but i could be wrong since i don’t clearly remember how they manifested in the books originally. nevertheless, it’s a great detail to have him wear the red jacket because even if he may not have it with him anymore, it’s still clearly something he holds dear – and might associate sally’s memories with.

also, the fact that percy seems to have alot of scenes with fire might be because as someone who can control water, fire can never truly be a source of danger for him and therefore, he can find comfort in its warmth unhindered, always?

^ how could i not love this epic moment? the trident is perfect, big and blue and grand and majestic. half the screen is water, obviously. but what makes this good shot a great one is that there is literally no one else directly near percy except annabeth. the campers are all far away and in this shot itself only annabeth remains close to percy, though she is fittingly on the land, observing the scene before her. remember how i said percy’s legacy promises isolation but this shot tells me that despite that, percy will have someone who he can count on to be by his side (also cool that even in the bathroom, annabeth was technically still near him, even if she was, well, stalking him) and maybe this is my delusional ass talking, but annabeth being here is foreshadowing for me. i just think it’s a choice to have this epic revelation where they could easily have had percy standing alone in the middle of the lake but no, annabeth is also there and not only because she’s the one who led to that revelation but because she’s someone who isn’t intimidated by percy’s parentage and still can be beside him.

^ i adore this shot because 1) it shows us just how young and tiny percy is and 2) it tells us that maybe that door is so fucking huge because it’s being inclusive of centaurs and other giants of their world. also, symmetry strikes again!!! the colours are so well balanced, not bright and vibrant but on the pastel side that indicates an aged feel to them.

and lastly,

^ i just find it funny that a private academy like yancy has an official vehicle that looks as beat up and terribly malfunctioning as this. 😭 like this half van was so out of place i literally goggled at the screen when it first appeared.

okay, i’m done for now. i also really liked the faceless sally scene in the start paralleling medusa’s eventual beheading but i already made a post about it. this legitmately only covers about 10% of the shots i wanted to talk about but these might be my favourites. this was long af so if you read the whole thing, mad respect to you.

[cho-aaacho]

I looked at you, I thought it was love

Masterlist

Summary : "I talk as if I know all about love, and I act as if I'm going to cry, saying I was truthful back then and saying it hurts me too. I'm sorry."

Warning : Angst

"Satoru-kun..."

A weary sigh escapes, audible when that name is uttered. Satoru doesn't turn around; instead, he remains silent, sweating, as if weighed down by something.

After three years of his absence, you found yourself summoning the courage to meet with your ex-boyfriend. 

Though you hadn't planned on it, a single thought lingered in your mind: you should meet him. You wanted to explain everything and clarify your relationship with him.

"Satoru-kun?"

Your voice echoes, calling once again with a slightly emphasized tenderness, puzzled by Satoru's lack of response. He had never been like this before; he always cared about you and loved everything about you, making it clear that you were his. 

You could always feel the tenderness of his love, the smoothness of his lips on yours, the gentle kiss on your neck, and the way he hugged your presence within his warm body.

Also, there are the tranquil eyes that imprint the soul, the serene quartz that clouds your thoughts, and the soft strands that evoke memories, most of which you wish not to forget.

But when did he change into this? Maybe when that woman came into his life—his old friend, he claimed—the one who had been involved with him since high school.

You couldn't wrap your mind around how someone like him could betray you. Even though you heard it from others and denied it at first after seeing him embrace that woman gently, kiss her in public, and boldly announce her as his new girlfriend, everything around you seems to fall.

You both were still young at the time, you knew that very well. Such things often happen in young love.

Satoru inquires, "How did you find me?"

"Haibara-san mentioned your art gallery; it looks like I'm the only person you haven't informed about this," you respond.

As you tried to compose yourself, you noticed a faint smile on his face. It was the same smile you'd always seen, yet there was something different about Satoru's eyes...

...they seemed

empty.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't expect you to come here."

He seems to be trying to not care and hide the truth that he yearns for you, eagerly awaiting your return, longing for your sweet scent and the lovely endearments as in the old days. 

"It's been three years; how's your day, Satoru-kun? Are you still with her?"

"My day?" He chuckled. "Not as good as when you're around."

The void is engulfed in silence, hanging thick in the air as Satoru wrestles with his tears, battling to keep his emotions in check. A painful flashback hits him like a tidal wave when he sees you.

Looking back on it only fuels his frustration, leaving behind a pain that leaves no visible scars on his fragile heart. 

Why does everything feel so bad? So agonizing? Even the surroundings seem out of place and surreal.

Satoru asks softly. "Are you seeking revenge? By leaving me and going with him? That's what you want to tell me?"

You laugh amidst tears. "Look at yourself before speaking."

"Are you here because you're marrying someone else?" he asked. "I couldn't care less about that man, but why are you here to inflict such pain? Am I the one at fault? Tell me."

You bite your lower lip. "Well, you're the one who dumped me back then, aren't you? You chose her over me. Did you think I didn't know? For a long time, I held onto faith in you, but you shattered my trust. So why are you causing me more pain when I couldn't do the same to you?"

There's a pause, and you continue. "I'm sorry if my actions have caused you suffering; yes, I know, I can't forgive what you did. But I need to heal my heart now, and unfortunately, you're not the one to do that. I'm sorry if that sounds naive or perhaps cruel."

"I hope I still love you the way I loved you in the past, but unfortunately everything has changed. I don't want to lie to myself." You added and peeked at the wedding invitation on the table where your name and Geto Suguru's are on it.

Is it all right? All of this? Did you really want this? 

He stood up and reached out to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace, and hugging you from behind, keeping you by his side for a while. You could feel him crying, trying not to let himself be swept away by the sensation, and convincing himself that all of this was just a dream. 

He bit his lower lip, checking if it was a dream or reality, only to realize that he was hurting himself by doing so.

He leaned down, placed his chin on your shoulder, and whispered, "I'm not afraid of you leaving; I'm afraid you'll forget me. I don't want to die with us hating each other. Please, come back to me, I'm sorry."

He continues. "Could we still meet, even though the world we tread upon doesn't allow us to meet each other? Will you always be the love of my life?"

But why now? 

Why, after you've found another man who's willing to heal your heart? Why did this happen to you?

Was Satoru just acting? Or were all the things you saw in the past just illusions? How could Satoru act in such a way and make you feel at fault?

Was he trying to manipulate you?

You never know.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Learning Czech for my Arcane fics. Russian for the YOI fics. Spanish for the Voltron fics and French just cause. Call me Mr. Worldwide. In all seriousness, half the languages I’m learning are just because I’m tired of looking for shows with subtitles.

Hurt/Comfort, slight ooc, thinly veiled venting session

(Masterpost)

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

“Um, Councilman Talis?” Her meek voice echoed off the laboratory walls. It was a stormy afternoon. The crackling lighting illuminated the walls. The room was grand, dark and quiet. The door creaked behind as she approached the work bench. “C-Councilman…”

“He’s gone.” A voice cut through. She turned over to find the other scientist hunched over his desk.

“Oh, I was actually looking for you Mr.Viktor..sir…”

He did not look up. “Yes, what is it?”

“Um, Assistant (L/N) is still in the greenhouse. I’m heading home and I was hoping you could check on them at some point.”

That caught his attention. You had today off, that’s what you told him at least. Viktor sat up, bones cracking into place as he stretched. “Yes, thank you. I will go to them before I leave today.”

She sighed in relief, “Thank you so much! It’s been a stressful week for us all.”

“Did something happen at the hearing?” He asked before she could leave the room.

Worry built up in her silence. Concern in her voice she asked, “Were you not informed?”

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

It’s such a shitty day for rain. You spent the last five hours cleaning the greenhouse, taking notes on fungal growth and angrily writing sticky notes for your morning shift colleagues. Notes you didn’t have to write since you would most likely be back here to do more work anyway but, maybe the thought of you not coming in would evoke some sort of productive reaction.

Some called it unnecessary. But they weren't botanists. They didn’t work at Piltover Academy. They weren’t on the cornerstone of something revolutionary.

You were. Well, you were.

It was a bitter feeling to wash down but you did nonetheless. You pushed aside the negative thoughts when you heard footsteps coming towards you.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Viktor said.

You spared him a glance before going back to your sticky notes. “Funny, I was gonna say the same thing.”

He took a few steps, towering over your crouching body. He eyed the myriad of colorful notes lining each individual planter and pot. “Why didn’t you tell me you came in?”

“Did it matter? I thought I’d be done by now but of course! No one does their job but me around here.” Your dismissive tone didn’t do much to sway him. He still stood behind you, watching you work. “Who told you I was here?”

“That’s not important-”

“It was Reecee wasn’t it.” You groaned.

“It doesn’t matter who told me. You’re here and you're upset.” He stated.

You scoffed, “I am not.”

“(Y/N).”

Of course you couldn’t hide your destestion from one of Piltover’s Finest, much less your boyfriend.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged.

“Didn’t Reecee tell you?”

“She said you had a meeting.”

“A meeting?” You said with a disparaging smile. “I had the meeting today.”

Viktor was well aware of “the meeting”. You had spoken about it at length ever since you were students. This was your Hextech. Your years of studying and research to get this meeting. Yet here you were, hunched over little sprouts on a cold rainy day.

You had a pained smile as you turned to face Viktor. “They didn’t even care. Years. Years of testing soil in the Undercity to clean the air, and they didn’t. Even. Care.”

Your voice was shaking. Your smile was dropping. Tears built up in your eyes. You could hear the committee’s voice clear as day.

“It’s just not viable.”

“We don’t have a large enough…overview of the Undercity’s layout.”

“The experiment could damage the already established ecosystem.”

Like they gave a shit about the ecosystem. Like they gave a shit about the Undercity!

“I was so desperate that I even said you and Jayce would back me up! It didn’t matter. They didn’t care! You know who did get a meeting with the higher council?! Ian-fucking-Rottmeiser!” You launched the notepad against the greenhouse wall, the looser notes flying up in the air. Truthfully, Rottmeiser wasn’t undeserving. In fact he worked hard on his proposal to integrate more plant life into Piltover. But that was just it. Piltover. He wants to help Piltover. They all want to help Piltover. It’s always Piltover.

“So now I’m here, doing my job. Cause that’s all I’m good for I guess! Just another Lab Assistant.”

Viktor pulled you into his arms. Your hand bunched around his sweater as the tear overtook you.

“It’s okay miláčku,” Viktor’s soothing hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t understand…I worked so hard��why not me…” You cried. From the moment you were born you were unlucky. Anyone born in the Undercity was unlucky. Your father was unlucky and drank contaminated water. The rest of you survived until your mother died on the Bridge of Progress. That just left you, on the other side of the bridge, separated from your remaining family in Piltover. And you studied everyday. You made it into the Academy, you climbed the ranks. Not a day went by without you working towards your goal. To improve lives, to save people! You spent week after week with your siblings, collecting samples in the Undercity. Risking your lives, sneaking in and out of Piltover, all to this meeting. And they didn’t care.

“How am I supposed to face them again?! I failed Viktor! I’m a failure!”

Still Viktor held onto you. Painful wails left you until your throat was raw. You unclench your fist as you relax against him. Shoulders slouching in defeat and Viktor’s warm hand never leaving you.

You sighed with a tired rasp in your voice. “I just wanted to do something right. To know it was worth all I had lost. I should’ve stayed in the Undercity.”

“Miláčku, look at me.” Viktor’s soft hands cupped your face. He gently lifted your head, his thumb wiping stray tears away. “You are exactly where you need to be right now. You are not a waste.”

“I failed Viktor..”

“No you didn’t. You did what you set out to do. You won, they lost. And when Hextech helps advance organic life and biodiversity, they will all be looking up to you.” His reassuring smile helped ease the pain. No one in Piltover could truly understand you like Viktor did. No one in Piltover lived through what you did except for Viktor. From the day you two met you promised you would rise above whatever was thought of you.

“You would do that for me?” You cooed softly.

He pressed a soft kiss against your temple, “I can’t trust any other botanist but you.”

Viktor stayed close by as you closed up for the day. You begrudgingly agreed to taking the next two days off (which your boss suggested anyway). Mostly because that meant you got to keep Viktor with you for two days as well. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky on your departure down the wet streets of Piltover. After a crowded tram ride you both huddled inside of your apartment. You both melt into the soft couch cushions. Viktor’s head on your shoulder, his hand intertwined in yours, soft kisses pressed into your neck with sweet words in his native tongue. You felt your worries slip away as you nodded off. Viktor took notice and shifted your body to rest against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[akutasoda]

Hi, love your work!! I’m not part of the q nation, unfortunately😞 my dumb brain can’t brain when I’m trying to learn the q language no matter how hard I try…

can I request- Sunday angst where the reader gets in an accident and gets amnesia? Hurt/ no comfort if thats okay!

if you’re uncomfortable with that, don’t worry about it, I love everything you write anyways!!!! Mwah!!

lead me towards freedom, just for me to forget

synopsis - he loved you. let down all his walls, trust his emotions with you and yet, you can't even remember who he is.

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader gets amnesia, slight fluff, angst no comfort, religious imagery?, maybe ooc, wc - 811

a/n: not apart of the q nation? apologies, i cannot write your request /j the q language is not for everyone anon, but if you try hard enough you will get there!! but thank you!! <3

if someone had asked sunday if he ever saw himself in a relationship in the future, he probably would've scoffed at them.

sunday had no such time for those feelings. the bigger picture was much more important to him, granting robin's wish was his number one priority and he didn't want anything to stray him from fulfilling such goals. petty emotions that led to developing romantic relationships were useless to him - not that he even had anyone in his life that he'd ever dare see that way.

relationships only hurt people. they could cut deep into people, causing pain and heartbreak. even uglier emotions that made reality all that much more harsh to those on the receiving end. and that was a possibility that could happen to him.

if he ever found someone he could love romantically, they could see him at his lowest, at his weakest point. they could exploit that. use it against him, rip his heart out, crush it right in front of his very eyes and he wouldn't be able to do anything. he'd love them too much to fight back, they'd open the gates to more emotions that would make him weaker, more vulnerable.

but that was before he met you.

admittedly, when he first met you, he thought you were simply another lost soul that needed saving. the hand of the order to bless you and lead you towards a dream. a world that saved you from the harshness of current reality. and it was his duty to lead you, another sheep among the herd lead towards freedom of reality.

but you weren't a sheep. you were a wolf in sheep's clothing.

yet it remained the same, he wanted to guide you away from suffering and pain. even more so than the rest of the flock.

sunday still denied it. either he couldn't recognise the signs or he simply couldn't believe that such emotions were being evoked from him - the lines were very blurred. either way, it wasn't immediately recognisable to him, willingly or unwillingly. those feelings would only prove meaningless down the line.

but you were persistent. always there in his life. unwavering in your friendly attitude toward him, unrelenting in checking up on him and showing a genuine interest. sunday wanted to push you away. keep you at arm's length and stop you from getting closer than you were already - in his eyes, you were too close, to his emotions and to getting in the way of his goals.

however, somewhere down the line, he let you in. sunday stopped fighting to keep you away, slowly letting down all the guards and walls he had built up around himself. and now. he understood why people took that risk.

relationships could end horribly but they could blossom. they could be filled with hope and sappy feelings that if sunday ever caught himself thinking about, he might have been sick. loving you was sweet. it was like watching birds fly free, a cool breeze on a summer's day. it was refreshing, freeing even.

it felt weird. he'd never felt such emotions for a person before and yet he couldn't help but find his thoughts drifting to you like a lovesick fool. when sunday caught himself, he felt embarrassed. hiding his face behind his wings and trying to compose himself yet again - it wouldn't be the first time his thoughts drifted to you, nor would it be the last.

sunday could look back upon all the memories with you with a fondness that baffled him. they played over and over in his mind like the galaxy's sappiest film, one that was so saccharine that it was sickly. but sunday wouldn't have it any other way.

but sunday soon remembered just why he wanted to stay away.

the day he received the news was the day his world shattered. the harshness of reality he so desperately wanted to help people stray away from had befallen upon him and his feelings. the news of you “accident” caused him to freeze.

was this your reality? had he failed to protect you from the harrowing reality of life?

sunday dropped everything to see you. he needed to know the exact details of your condition, to know if you were okay. but looking back upon this decision, perhaps ignorance was bliss. not knowing would've been better than seeing you in this state.

it shattered him in two when the news of your amnesia was told to him. if only this was a dream. a really bad one at that, a nightmare if he would. he had failed you.

and as you stared at him in confusion, no hints of familiarity found in your gaze for him,

sunday could nearly cry.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 1

Home

WARNING: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood spoilers (seasons 1 and 2)

You: Huh!?!?!?!?

Oh yeah, it's time for a little mini-meta.

Okay, well, we're not going to get into the ENDING yet, but there's actually a lot going on in MHA that looks eerily familiar if you're an FMA fan. MHA itself is in many ways a referential work, and I don't think all of these parallels are coincidences (though surely some are).

Let's talk about the symbolism of the home.

My Hero Academia has three major examples of "home" that it highlights as symbols: those of the villains Tomura Shigaraki, Himiko Toga, and Touya Todoroki. The villains view their homes as symbols of oppression and pain. We know the home is seen as the image of all that oppression based on how various characters treat the houses themselves.

When Touya returned home after his miraculous survival, he found the home hadn't changed as a result of his death. The "scene" there always looks the same.

And when Endeavor tries to atone, Endeavor acknowledges that the "house" he raised his children in is full of bad memories to the extent that he decides to build his family a new home where they can live without him.

Touya's opportunity to demonstrate his feelings about his home arises with Himiko Toga. She returns to her abandoned childhood home out of curiosity and finds it full of hatred and derision, symbolizing her experiences there.

Touya does her a "kindness" by destroying the house.

Then he reveals that doing so, to him, is a way to get back at Endeavor--at the man who created Touya's own broken childhood home.

This scene in particular evokes the famous imagery of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood of the Elric Brothers burning down their own childhood home.

The act of destroying their own home is so important to them that Edward chooses to commemorate the date by engraving it inside his pocketwatch, "Don't Forget 3.Oct.11." To the brothers, this act is a symbol of their resolve--of their chosen path to atone for their sins and restore their bodies. There can be no going back home if there is no home to return to.

In other words, the purposeful destruction of one's home represents a threshold, a point of no return. By destroying their homes, the villains of MHA demonstrate their conviction for the paths they've chosen.

The problem is, there's another reason one might destroy their own home.

To run away. To hide. To forget.

Why does Himiko call Touya's act of destruction a kindness, even if Touya denies it? Because he has destroyed the largest reminder of the pain of her childhood.

The League of Villains seek to destroy the world because they were rejected by the world and wish to reject it back. Those homes were the world to them at one point, when they were children. To them, the world is just an extension of the suffering they experienced.

Tomura wants to destroy the world to justify his existence as a destroyer, but in reality he doesn't want to face the fact that he killed his family by accident.

The tragedy of his childhood was so traumatic he repressed the memory and only found his concrete motivation to destroy the world once he remembered his past in Deika City. As soon as he remembers that house, he wishes to destroy it again. It's already been destroyed, but the memory of it continues to hurt him long after. By destroying the world, maybe he can forget it again. Maybe the pain will make sense and he won't have to think about it anymore. Maybe he'll stop being a crying child deep down.

The villains seek to destroy their own origins, which is by nature a self-destructive cause. Paradoxically, they will end up destroyed in the end no matter if they succeed or fail in their goals. Either the world will be destroyed and they along with it, or they will die trying.

To save Tenko's heart, Izuku has to bring that memory of the house to the surface. He has to recontextualize it to validate Tenko as he is.

And the recontexualization is All For One.

By contextualizing Tenko's life as a product of All For One's machinations, it gives Tomura a new reason to destroy that memory and that house: to destroy All For One.

And with that comes a new justification for Tomura's existence.

The destruction of All For One.

[fiery-emblems]

Like a lot of people I sometimes ponder what my favorite characters might look like if they were allowed to grow older. I've been seeing a lot of good designs for older Soren specifically so of course I got to thinkin' about my own take!

Some notes on design process under the cut cause I think we should all share our thought process once in a while:

So, for this I didn't want to just want to go with "Soren, exactly the same but older". My thought was "if I was actually in charge of designing for a fire emblem game, one that takes place in a future Tellius perhaps and featuring this character as a guest (a la Tiki or the Awakening trio, which they should keep doing BTW) how would I go about doing that".

You have to think of course, about what the character is actually doing and what their role is. It seems pretty likely that after RD Soren is either traveling the world with Ike or wandering around (probably the former) so "traveler" was the theme. As far as the overall shape and the outer layer especially it seemed obvious to reference the dragons, who are also travelers:

I don't want to just straight up copy the look of the robes though for a couple of reasons. 1) that's boring and the idea here is for an updated visual style 2) I wanted to combine different elements to evoke a feeling of mixing cultures. I figure if this scenario takes place say, 80 years in the future or something, fashions will have moved forward and perhaps you would see elements of beorc and laguz fashions mixed together. Especially for Soren given what he is. So I went with an inner layer that looks more Victorian puffy sleeves (which you don't actually see a lot of in PoR or RD since the characters favor more stiff looking tunics, but they are there and I figured its the future and maybe Crimea has entered its puffy shirt era) with the outer layer looking more like what the dragons wear. 3) Staying with robes seems kind of stagnant. I imagine that a much older Soren who's lived a good life along side his love has probably chilled out a little bit. A little bit. 4) I think having more leg visible gives a more adult silhouette.

The other consideration is the hairstyle. As much as I love Soren being a carbon copy of Rajaion, it wouldn't be the most interesting design choice if I was the character designer of a game to just copy a past design 1 for 1. So I decided to just lengthen his hair a little bit and give it a look like its been blown around in the wind. Soren is the windy guy and I'm assuming he would be more chill here so why not let it be loose and free? This also helps avoid him just looking like Sephiran cause I see that a lot too lol.

Yes I also changed the shape of his brand. I've always been fascinated by the fact that it changed shape between games. I know it was likely just a design oversight but what if it changed because he isn't an adult yet and it changes more as he ages?

Lastly there's the why. Why would your fav show up as a guest character? What would he even do?? Well I think Soren could be really fun actually if we assume he went with Ike and that Ike kept Ragnell with him. I'm picturing a situation where Ike has lived out his natural life and died, leaving Soren to return to Tellius alone in order to tell Mist's family what happened (cause Ike just left without telling anyone anything lol), and to return Ragnell to them. Instead some conflict breaks out, you know how it is, and the more chilled out Soren is convinced to bestow the sword onto the new starry-eyed lord who reminds him of his beloved.

Oh yeah. I can see it now.

[my-mt-heart]

Why Explicit Caryl Canon Matters

Daryl and Carol (Caryl) fans make up a large portion of the spinoff's audience, and this audience wholeheartedly believes that Daryl and Carol are each other's only choice. It's in the writing. It's also reinforced by cast, crew, and EPs. For example, Norman has repeatedly said “If Daryl falls in love, it's forever."

There's a misconception that Carylers are a bunch of hysterical saps – fans who only want their ship "fucking under the stars" and only care about Daryl because of Carol, but that’s not true. In reality, Caryl fans are the deepest, most intuitive thinkers in the TWD community. To them, story matters. While they recognize and adore all of the subtext, they understand that it's supposed to lead to something worth the 13-year wait. They're expecting that major sense of relief and joy from watching explicit, undeniable, canon.

Explicit canon respects Carol's and Daryl's character development – individually and together. They started out way behind everybody else in life, convinced they weren't worthy of love. Daryl thought he was better off alone and Carol thought she was just a burden, but then they showed each other their true potential. Carol told Daryl he was a "man of honor" and Daryl taught Carol to have hope for a better future. They've struggled and suffered and strived to be good enough for each other. So, where's the payoff?

I understand not all fans want the same things, and maybe there's pressure to “keep everyone happy." Maybe it feels like a lose-lose situation. But from a marketing perspective, Caryl fans are a very reliable source of revenue for the show, so keeping them happy secures a reliable audience for future seasons of the show. They'll show up with their wallets out and their enthusiasm turned all the way up for Norman's and Melissa's nuanced performances. They'll create more fanart and other content. They'll make the show trend on Twitter constantly. Fans already adore Norman and Melissa, but explicit canon will amplify it further whereas keeping things ambiguous will cause a significant decline in viewership.

Ambiguity is the reason that the "I love you" scene in the flagship's finale got mixed reactions. For the fans who also struggle with their self-image, it was important to see Daryl and Carol overcome their own insecurities and finally "take whatever happiness they could get." But instead, many saw Carol's lighthearted "I love you too" and Daryl's departure as if they were both forfeiting what they always wanted. Daryl was submitting to his solitary nature again while Carol assumed she still owed a debt to her community and Daryl would be happier without her anyway. Both of them deserved a happy ending, or at least a piece of happiness to launch them into the next part of their journey. As far as many fans were concerned, neither of them got that.

That's why a lot of fans had a hard time watching S1 of the spinoff or opted out of watching all together. There were so many moments that teased the "possibility" of Daryl getting together with a younger, blonder woman nun while hints of Caryl's relationship were buried under more subtext. Keeping Daryl's feelings ambiguous just for the "fun" of shipbaiting cheapens Caryl's one-of-a-kind relationship, falsely indicating that their iconic beats can be recycled with someone else and still evoke the same passionate response from fans.

Ambiguity also perpetuates ageism and gives non-Caryl fans the excuse to say hurtful things to or about Melissa. Whether or not she's online to see it makes no difference because it still degrades her and it damages other women's perceptions of beauty and worth. Explicit canon on the other hand raises both Melissa and Norman up as two powerhouse actors utilizing their unparalleled chemistry to celebrate mature romances. It brings Daryl’s defining character traits to the forefront – the nurturing traits and the epic ones. It positions Daryl and Carol as equals, and it helps drown out the harmful comments against Melissa. 

Hopes for season 2 of the spinoff are high. Confirmation of Carol's and Daryl's romantic relationship in a way that needs no interpretation and no explanation from anyone offscreen is a dealbreaker. I know in terms of explicit canon, post-production can make all the difference, so it's crucial someone in a position of power pushes for canon that fully and unapologetically lives up to the fans' expectations, does right by the characters, and respects what Melissa wants.

[updownlately]

fighting it is hopeless (sinking in your ocean)

| alessia russo x reader

~~~

“It’s weird to think that you could leave at any time and I’d have no control…”

Your voice broke the comfortable silence that gently wrapped your living room, the weight of the words evoking a nearly-tangible rattle in the air. 

You were sprawled out on the couch with an earbud barely in, eyes not leaving the ceiling, holding your breath wondering whether you should continue or not. 

It was when you just barely heard the soft padding of footsteps, no doubt coming from the blonde you called yours, that you closed your eyes, heart wrenching thought of your vulnerability. 

Swallowing hard, scarcely managing to keep the growing lump in your throat at bay, you continued.

“Like I get that love can’t exist if I have control over all your actions and emotions ‘cause obviously that’s not how humans work…but still...” 

Your words trailed off just as you felt the seat near your legs sink with the weight of the your girlfriend.

The gentle hand that came to rest on your thigh had you opening your eyes, head rigid however, too afraid that the slightest eye-contact with the other girl would result in her seeing your soul, the windows of your eyes an easy read for the striker. 

Bringing a shaky hand up to grab the front collar of your her t-shirt that you were wearing and bringing it to your mouth, you bit down on the fabric, the tremor in your voice something you could already feel. 

Continuing, your voice came out muffled. 

“It’s weird you know? Like yeah we were friends and all before we started dating but since that first date you kind of just took me out of my world and put me in your orbit. You shot me into outer space, had me sucked a bye away yet so near to you and I haven’t been more glad yet more scared.” 

You knew you were rambling now, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury for the past few months, the insecurities you’d never shared, all tumbling out, and you could only be a bystander, almost watching from afar as your mouth and heart betrayed your brain.

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t terrify me. I feel like I’m sinking and flying at the same time, and I don’t know what to make of it…”

Words trailing off, restless silence enveloping you, you tensed your shoulders embarrassed at how open you were being, laying yourself bare without a thought.

The stillness in the air since your last uttered sentence was deafening, the silent roar sending a chill up your spine.

Running a hand over your face, your fingers rubbed into your eyelids before coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. Mind now racing, innumerable thoughts firing in the small space of your head, you cursed silently at yourself, wishing you’d never said anything. 

And when nearly a few minutes had passed, only the blood rushing in your ears to be heard, you decided that maybe you were an idiot after all, swearing at the old you that thought this would be a good idea. 

Moving to get up, gently tossing your phone and earbuds onto the other seat nearby, you barely made it onto your elbows, body in a half crunch position before a voice that wasn’t yours finally joined the conversation. 

“Hey, let me in…I care, I promise. I really do.” Alessia’s gentle but nervous voice filtered through your thoughts, the love pushing aside your insecurities and creating a clear path to your troubled mind. 

The quietness of the plead had you listening, your arms straightening out as you gently fell onto your back, bouncing against the soft cushion before resting on it. 

You inhaled a deep breath, holding it for three seconds just like your therapist told you to do whenever you felt anxious, before letting out a deep sigh and forcing yourself to relax your shoulders.

“I want to trust you- trust us, this relationship but sometimes it feels so hard…It’s worse because it’s not ‘cause of you but my mind is idiotic sometimes y’know?”

Alessia hummed in acknowledgement, not sure how to respond but desperately wanting to be there for you. 

Silence enveloping the room once more, you felt the couch shift once more, it creaking under the weight of the movement. 

Before you knew it, Alessia was squished beside you, laying on her side tightly in the minimal space between you and the back of the couch. 

Reaching her hand over to wrap around your waist, tugging your stiff body into her best she could, Alessia let out a breath, trying to relax, hoping it would have the domino effect on you. 

With how well the blonde knew you, nearly a year of dating not lost on her, the actions had the desired effect, tension slowly but surely leaving your body as you curled into the warmth beside you. 

The pair of you were so close, each rise and fall of either of your chests felt by the other, released puffs of air intermingling, you both bathing in the calmness brought by the other’s presence. 

And when Alessia began to speak, voice so soft, lips fluttering against the crown of your head, you swear she could cushion the most delicate of glassware.

“Whatever’s going on inside your head, I want you to know that I want you. For as long as you’ll have me, through the highs and the lows, I’m here to stay. I can’t even fathom the idea of leaving you if I’m honest.” 

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your hairline, Alessia paused for a slight second, lips lingering before she continued.

“I know me saying it once won’t do much so I’ll remind you as many times as I can for as long as I can, but know that with all of the trophies, cups, league titles and any other awards in this world, I wouldn’t mind not having a single one as long as I have you.”

Letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you keenly listened to the murmur of words, relief washing over you, chest loosening. 

Turning in Alessia’s hold, you faced the blonde, not meeting her eyes but instead burrowing your face into the crook of her neck.  

“I’m sorry…” Your voice came out muffled, the sheepish tone apparent. 

“Love...don’t be. We’ll get through this together. You just keep communicating to me like you are, yeah?” Nodding into Alessia’s shoulder, you felt your eyes dampen, the blonde’s understanding and care overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

Tucking your head further into her neck, you wrapped your arm around the striker, letting her love wash over you, a few tears falling as your heart bursted with love.

And as Alessia pulled you impossibly closer, you both let the evening pass, yellow hues turning red, and then purple, basking in each other’s embrace.

Allowing your love speak for itself, arms tightly wound around one other, you let yourself sink into the comfort of the embrace, aware that fighting it was hopeless.

Sucked up in the waves of her love, shot into outer space, you knew you were stranded but not alone, bound to fall deeper each day for the girl you loved, no insecurities of yours able to prevent your love from growing.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Meaningless vs. useful angst

Kiko is about to fucking rant.

Maybe I'm beating a dead horse, but I feel like this is something that people will relate to more than I realized before. Plus, as someone who is going through a lot of shit IRL, I completely understand the need to read some angst as an outlet. But the constant angst caused purely by the exact same issues over and over and over with zero growth over 100k+ word fics gets incredibly exhausting and sometimes it genuinely ruins my day because the angst didn't serve as a useful outlet; in the end, it actually just filled me with more grief.

In my (likely unpopular) opinion, these stories show a lack of depth and creativity in a writer. They give the impression that the writer doesn't know how to write conflict without falling back onto the exact same issues and tropes, and it just becomes a revolving door that will never have a satisfying end.

Meaningless angst leaves readers unsatisfied and empty. It provides characters that readers don't want to root for. It lacks proper character development and typically includes angst for the sake of angst, for the sake of piling the pain and anguish onto characters (and readers) until it's just more than anyone can take. It reaches a point where absolutely no ending will be satisfying for anyone. Eventually, characters are irredeemable and beyond saving.

Making your readers feel grief through your writing does not make you a good writer by default. Sometimes, it just means that you've written a shit ton of angst with no clear direction and it left your readers feeling unfulfilled and empty. Angst with no purpose beyond drawing a reaction from people isn't good writing, it's lazy and uncreative. Most of the time, it's used as a means to keep people hooked because they're compelled to read until there's a satisfying end, but the problem is that there won't be. Essentially, what you've done is you've opened a wound that will never be closed.

For angst to work, there has to be a clear goal and characters worth rooting for. We want them to make it through the angst because they're strong and compelling. But once you have characters making the exact same mistakes for the fifth or sixth time with no signs of growth or any attempts to learn, it becomes drawn out and meaningless. The issue with this kind of angst is that it doesn't drive us forward, it either takes us backward or keeps us stagnant. It leaves your readers unsatisfied, and it traps you in a cycle that feels absolutely hopeless. We start just wishing for the end no matter what that may be. We don't want them to keep going.

The purpose of angst is not just to cause pain. Angst is a rhetorical vehicle to reach a clear goal. Angst works when it has purpose beyond evoking strong reactions from readers. It works when it's necessary to move the story forward.

These are all reasons why, in my writing (Another Level, Physical Paradox, and even in Before I Love You), I've tried to make sure that angst has a clear meaning and purpose. In Another Level, our angst didn't last too long. It wasn't drawn out for no reason, and it had a clear result. Every time we had angst, we clearly saw the growth in Rinko and Gojo. In the end, it always worked toward strengthening their trust, not completely destroying it. The angst began because of 'realistic' reasons, not cheap plot twists that make you angry and leave you unfulfilled (I hope).

Anyway, that's my rant about angst because it seems like there are no stories that can balance the angst well enough to reach a satisfying conclusion.

[charlottecutepie]

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 5. Desire

Surprisingly, Wiliam behaved restrained, but inside him everything was on fire, he wanted to take you here and now, harshly and rudely, do things with you what he had long dreamed of all this time, but he knew perfectly well that if he snapped now, you'd be even more scared, cut with him all connections and will avoid him, and maybe even do something to yourself, because you're nothing but a little frightened lamb. A little creature who grew up alone, not needed by anyone, who didn't receive the proper amount of love and attention from her father. And that's why Afton thought he was the perfect source of all these feelings for you.

Perhaps, to some extent, he felt sorry you. However, his mind ignored such thoughts.

“William,” you spoke to him. “Is there no one at home?”

“Yes, Clara with kids left, I don't know where. She said she wouldn't be back until the morning.”

…

The Afton house is still same as it was before. Only coffee machine bought by the father of the family has changed. Although he earned a lot of money, little of it went to home improvement, Afton always invested only in the pizzeria, trying to make it as visible and attractive as possible.

It was also impossible to ignore the couch that was in the living room of the house. For you as a child, it was the most favourite object in Afton's house, you sat on it with Michael in the evenings and watched cartoons. When you had sleepovers with other kids, you hid under the covers because of Michael's scary stories. You often fell asleep on it late at night, without waiting for your mom, although she promised that she'd pick you up from the guests, but sometimes she never showed up because of scandals with her husband.

This couch evoked hundreds of emotions and nice memories.

But now, one more thing will be added to all these early memories: the way you lie on this couch under man who you saw as father, no matter how strange it sounds.

“You're so… beautiful,” he hovered over your body, his eyes running over it. “such delicate skin, like an angel's.” he took your hand, interlacing your fingers, kissing them. All thoughts in your head gathered into one big ball, you tried to analyze the situation somehow, but useless, because of his actions, you felt lost. William breathed out your name and greedily pressed his lips to your neck, showering it with light kisses.

You closed your eyes and turned your head to the side to give him more space, trying to relax, it seems you were succeeding. But unexpectedly for you, you felt him bite your neck.

“Oh!” bursted out of you, your free hand burrowed into his hair, trying to pull him away. “William, it hurts…” he looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, bunny,” he smiled warmly at you. “I’ll be gentle.” he moved closer, gently kissing you on the corner of your lips. You leaned forward, hoping that this innocent kiss would turn into something more, however, Afton had other plans, he grinned and straightened up. “So impatient.”

He unbuttoned first three buttons of his purple shirt, which was enough for you to see the strange scars covering his body. You couldn't help, interest took over and your hands tentatively touched the bare area of his body.

“Where are they from?” you asked softly, causing him to chuckle again.

“It doesn't matter now, sweetheart.” he loosened the belt of his pants, after which he kissed your neck again, this time he kept his promise: you felt his tongue licking little wound he made. William took you by the hips, moving your body closer to him. “Y/n, you want this, don't you?”

“I… uh, I don't know.”

There is silence in response. William could tease you and your body for hours, nibbling and kissing it, making you sigh languidly, but this night he wanted to satisfy you first. He wanted to make you dependent on him, so that you couldn't live a day without his touch, so that you took the initiative yourself, so that you were head over heels in love. Corrupt you. However, he didn't know you were already so dependent on him, you want him to love you like in fairy tales about princesses, you want him to give you all the love that you were deprived of as a child. You just wanted someone to save you from loneliness.

You felt something hard pressing against the inside of your thigh, but you didn't want to look at what it was because of your wild embarrassment. Afton took something out of his pants pockets.

“Here, I see you need it,” you saw him holding out his hand to you with some kind of strange round pill. Confused, you looked at him, waiting for some explanation. William only laughed and ran his finger over your lips, opening them. “Yeah, and here it is, good girl.” he said, pushing the pill deeper until, due to the urge to vomit, you grabbed his wrist. “I'm sorry, baby, I just don't have anything to wash down the pill with.”

“What is it?” you winced at the unpleasant taste.

“Tranquilizers so you don't get nervous. Actually, they're mine, but I can tell by the look on your face they'll be useful for you too.” his hands carefully, as if afraid to scare you even more, undid the clasp of the dress, lowering it from your shoulders down. Unable to contain your shyness, you tried to hold the fabric on your body until William looked at you, as if mentally saying “don't.” Then your grip loosened, there was nothing you could do but obey. “that's it, good girl.”

When he wanted to take off the dress completely, you still grabbed on it, not letting it slide off your hips.

“Princess, if you keep doing this, then we won't succeed.” William looked into your eyes, putting your hands behind your head. “I won't hurt you.”

You nodded, trying to lose yourself in your feelings again. It seemed to be easier with the help of a sedative. You didn't even notice how you were only in your underwear in front of him.

“Damn, you're incredible.” he threw the dress somewhere on the floor, kissing you on the cheek while his hands caressed your hips and waist. You bit your lip to stifle a groan. Fuck, no one has ever touched you like that, especially in places like this, and when William ran his hand along the inside of your thigh, inadvertently touching your crotch, you arched your back. “it felt good, didn't it?”

William repeated the movement, but now paying more attention to your clothed pussy. The excitement took over, forcing you to move your hips towards his movements. A shudder of desire went through your whole body, Afton saw it perfectly, he kissed your collarbone, going lower to your breasts.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I've been dreaming about this.” those words echoed in your head, but you didn't pay attention to it. “Honey, you're just so beautiful.” William ran his hands over your breasts, pinching your nipples hard with excitement.

“William…” you got the courage. He looked at you questioningly, damn, you hoped you said it so quietly that it would go unnoticed. “kiss me, please.”

He laughed. In a moment, his lips are on yours, like a predator. At that moment, you forgot absolutely everything, giving yourself completely to him. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his long fingers touching your pussy through your soaked panties. With one imperious movement, he pulls off the last piece of clothing, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“And now? Not so scary anymore?”

“I don't know what i feel…” you were in turmoil, all fears and thoughts disappeared, a wild desire came to replace, no, not of intimacy, not of sex. But his affectionate words and compliments, the way he touches you, his gentle kisses and hugs, the way he treats you.

His fingers gently touch your labia, slowly and smoothly they move in circular movements along clit, getting another moan from you. With his other hand, he holds your legs, preventing you from moving away and closing them.

“And now, honey?”

“It's weird, but…” you avoided his gaze. ”feels good…” you answered unsure. Smiling contentedly, he removed his fingers. You noticed that as soon as his hands left your body, his movements in relation to himself instantly changed: he roughly, jerkily took off his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his pants, pulling them down. It’s like he was controlling himself when touching you.

“Lick them.” Afton said in a commanding tone, running his fingers over your lips. It was terribly embarrassing for you, but you did as he said anyway. You watched his actions with a note of sweet and naive excitement, the way his fingers penetrated deeper and deeper, pressing on your tongue, again caused unpleasant sensations to vomit. “Sorry, but there's no other way, I don't have any lube.”

When he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, quite considering how wet they were, you felt uncomfortable, but probably if you tell him about it, he's unlikely to listen and stop. The only thing left to do was to lie under him like a doll and enjoy.

“You're an obedient girl, aren't you?” his fingers went back to your glistening pussy, caressing your needy clit. Your breathing stopped instantly.

“Yes…” you whimpered when you felt his fingers, wet with your own saliva and grease, smoothly, insanely slowly entering you. William is building up the pace, not too fast, but enough to make soft sweet moans come out of your mouth. “Daddy…” you drawled languidly, feeling your soft walls tighten around his long fingers.

“Yes, princess?” Afton kisses your neck while his free hand wraps around his cock that was already out of his trousers, hard and dripping with precum. “Tell daddy what you want.”

“Please, want more…” you whispered in his ear, this time trying to be as seductive and sexy as possible. William found it funny.

“You'll get more, baby,” his breath tickled your skin. “Daddy will make you feel good.” Afton pulled out his fingers, causing you to moan in disappointment, oh, how he enjoyed it, it felt like he was ready to cum just from your angelic voice.

William tilted his head, being between your legs. The whole picture made you dizzy, you glance at him in surprise, trying to predict what will happen next. William grins, seeing how your curiosity plays tricks on you when he gives your clit a tender kiss.

“Ohhh, daddy,” this word is so vulgar, it sounds completely indecent on your tongue, but right now you don't care, all that matters is William Afton and the wild need to be needed by someone, loved, appreciated. “Yeah…”

The release builds up with an unfamiliar, wildly pleasant feeling in the lower stomach, making you want to close your legs, but his hands continued to hold them apart. His tongue feels too good, slowly moving in circular movements over your cunt, paying more attention to your clit while two fingers slowly and smoothly fucks you, forcing you to switch from moans to sobs and soft screams.

William accelerates, his movements getting faster and rougher, but no less passionate, making you arch from pleasure. With one hand buried in his dark brown hair, you try to set the pace, but he can do fine without you, so it's useless, he's much more experienced. He explored you with his tongue until the trembling left your supple body. William could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. His free hand continued to jerk himself off with increasing movements, while he was eating you out.

You sighed desperately when Afton stopped stimulating you with his tongue, lifting his head and looking at your reaction, his fingers still inside.

“Do you want to cum for daddy?” he asks, you just nod quickly, wishing of putting an end to these sweet torments that drive you crazy. “No, I need you to say it, honey.”

“Yes, yes, yesss,” you say brokenly. “I…” an uncertain pause. “I want to cum, daddy, please!” oh, it was so humiliating, but what was more terrible that you liked it.

“Good girl.” William increased the intensity of his movements, hitting all right sweet spots of yours. You moaned loudly, feeling everything tense in your lower abdomen, which means an imminent orgasm. “do it, cum while I fuck your little pussy with my fingers.” William growled, his hand that was touching his own cock stopped, now squeezing your neck, pressing on the carotid artery, but hearing your wheezing, he his grip loosens.

Your moans, which are more like crying, turn into loud, piercing “oohs”, your head's spinning, your brain's melting, everything is like in a fog, you can't even see Afton's face. The long-awaited release is catching up with you. You cum, you cum so hard that you feel ecstasy running through your whole body, you feel that your breathing becomes ragged, and your pussy clenching on his fingers.

“Such a good girl,” because of orgasm, you don't even hear what he says, and you don't want to, you need time to regain your strength. “it's my turn now, baby.”

He takes his fingers out, brings them to his mouth and licks them, studying your reaction. William touches his member again, his heartbeat quickens, his eyes now closed, apparently he's thinking about something. Yes, he's definitely imagining something in his head.

“Tell me, do you love daddy?“ he asked, his voice hoarse from excitement. He isn't even looking at you.

“Yes,” you responses quietly. Taking advantage of the moment, you look at him in detail while he doesn't notice. Damn, how handsome he was, his long, such aristocratic fingers that played with the tip of his cock, rubbing cum along entire length, his slightly disheveled but insanely beautiful brown hair like milk chocolate, his sharp cheekbones, it was stupid to deny that he was unattractive. “I love daddy, I love you, William.” you didn't even fully understand what you were talking about. You was just saying what he wanted to hear.

He pumps his cock faster, you see how he shuddered, like saying your name or something else, you can't understand. But you catch yourself thinking that it's damn beautiful. If your mom found out what you were doing, she probably wouldn't be happy.

He cums on your stomach, with a loud groan, and then, breathing heavily, falls on the couch next to you, staring blankly at the ceiling. What is he thinking about? Is he even thinking now? You're lying obediently by his side, trying to figure out what just happened, but your brain doesn't want to think, your head is aching, your temples are throbbing. William turns to you, then looks at the crumpled dress on the floor, then back at you.

“Let's go to the shower, bunny, I'll help you wash up.”

…

The next morning came for you only closer to 12, when you were suddenly woken up by the sound of the door opening. It was Clara with Michael and Elizabeth. Confused, not even realizing that you were in their house, you jumped up from the couch.

“Michael, give Elizabeth that hoodie, you're not wearing it anyway.” woman's voice was heard somewhere in the hallway area, which means that she was nearby.

“Mom, these are my things, and just because I don't wear them doesn't mean that—”

Michael entered living room, but when he saw you, he froze in place.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he asked, a slight smile appearing on his face.

“Who are you talking to?” Clara’s voice sounded, but as soon as she appeared in the room, her emotions immediately changed. “Oh, hello, honey.” woman affectionately called your name, coming up to you and sitting down on the sofa. “Elizabeth, go say hello to Y/n!”

Girl immediately rushed over, you noticed a plush toy in her hands, it seems it was the same robot girl drawing of which Elizabeth recently showed you. She greeted you cheerfully, all you could do was say an awkward “hello” in response, still trying to remember how you even ended up here. Clara stroked your head, her gaze fixed on your face, on your tousled hair and lost expression. You knew that you had to say something in your own defense, why you were here.

“Sorry for such an oversight, I had some problems with my mom, and Mr. Afton told me to spend the night here.” you lied, and then mentally slapped yourself. Damn, this is so dumb. The Afton family knew that you had the best relationship with your mom and that you had never argued. You doubted how truth your words sounded, but judging by Clara's reaction, everyone believed you.

“Honey, I'm glad that you have somewhere to go, you know that we'll always welcome you with hugs,” she said tenderly, with maternal love. “You must be hungry. I'll go to the store and cook breakfast, what do you think?”

There was no point in lying further, you really needed something to eat, so you silently agreed.

Mrs. Afton went to the nearest grocery store, taking Elizabeth with her. You and Michael were left alone, you gradually began to remember what happened, and with the realization that you and Afton had something, you were overtaken by a sickening anxiety, causing your toes and hands to go numb and shake, and your heart to beat faster. You two were sitting on this damn couch watching TV, however, neither of you was interested in what the old screen was showing. You were sitting hugging your knees, wondering whose clothes you were wearing: they were of a child surely, with some kind of cartoon print, a t-shirt and, as it seems, Michael's pants. He didn't hesitate to look at you from head to toe, which slightly annoyed you.

“Michael, stop staring.” You hissed, tucking your face into your lap.

“I'm just trying to figure out,” he paused, thinking about something. “why are you wearing my dead brother's t-shirt?”

“What?”

“Well… I'm not accusing you of anything… it's just…” he scratched his head, clearly not knowing what to say to you. ”Okay, forget it. It's just my shit in my head.”

“Michael, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” you looked at him. Why did William choose his dead son's clothes out of all? “There must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

“It's nothing, y/n, you shouldn't worry so much about it.”

You looked at the TV, trying to come up with some kind of ridiculous excuse, but in vain. And how long can you lie?

“Speaking of my brother… today, Elizabeth, mom and I went to his grave.” Michael muttered, you knew perfectly well that this topic of conversation wasn't the best, because the he blamed himself enough for what happened. You decided that the best thing you can do now is just listen to him. “You know… it's already overgrown with grass. We had to work hard to get the grave back to normal. Oh, and there's also a lot of webs.”

You knew that only people who cared for Evan's gravestone were Clara and Michael. William, after his son's death, never visited grave, and even more so, didn't attend the funeral, citing the fact that he had a lot of work. And when Evan was in a coma, with minimal chance of survival, Michael came to him almost every day, crying and begging for forgiveness.

You knew that Michael was just a traumatized guy and it was useless to blame him for all this, he had already heard a lot about himself from his father, so you just moved closer to him when you noticed him dropping tears on the couch and hugged him.

Half an hour later, Mrs. Afton returned from the store. Michael wasn't in such good mood as before, but as soon as his mother crossed the threshold of their house, he seemed to put on a mask of happiness, meeting her and helping to carry bags into the kitchen.

For breakfast, which smoothly turned into lunch, Clara served macaroni and cheese and caesar salad. Your stomach, which hasn't received normal hot food for a long time, rejoiced and you ate all two portions in a few minutes. Elizabeth talked most of all at the table, telling you something about robots and toys again. Yes, once upon a time Michael, and Clara herself, told you that she took after her father. She's also interested in mechanics and loves animatronics.

Looking at this whole family, you felt guilty about yesterday. Probably, to some extent, you even hated yourself. Mrs. Afton, the nicest woman you've ever known, after your mom, of course. Michael is a devoted and faithful friend, as well as a caring brother, Elizabeth is just the sunshine of this family, cheerful, everyone's favorite. And William is a charming and likeable man who was ready to do anything for his family and work. At least that's how the family seemed to you in your head.

You're lost in your own thoughts, stopped listening to Elizabeth's babble. The damn guilt was eating you, making you sick of yourself. How could you do that? How dare you drag a married man, the head of the family, into bed, and then sit at the same table with his family, smiling innocently at everyone. What the fuck is wrong with you? Mrs. Afton will definitely find out, Michael will find out and Elizabeth will find out, and then you will become a disgrace to the whole town. You will become known as a little slut who seduced a married man. Not just a man, but William Afton himself.

“By the way, honey, did William tell you where he is?” Clara asked, and you squinted, trying to remember what Afton had told you before you dozed off.

“He said he was going to the pizzeria to work.” you said, it was true. Clara's face changed.

“What?” a rhetorical question. “he never worked on that day, he always had a day off exactly… today.”

Meanwhile, William was already at the pizzeria.

[im-657-mv]

your fantasy

yandere faerie lee taeyong

word count: 2129

Was this a dream? Your hazy mind had no clue. You were standing in the middle of the forest full of shades of the deepest of greens as the moon lit the area around you. It was so overwhelming the beauty of it all. It seemed so ethereal almost fake the way the branches swayed and the overall calmness it evoked from within.

Blue flowers were scattered around where you stood delicate and beautiful under the night sky. You bent down to get a closer look kneeling down to come face-to-face with the abnormal orchid. Never have you seen a flower of such color, the usual being a yellow or pink shade, but this was different. It was unusual in a pleasant intriguing way. In a way where all questions poking your mind vanquished within the gaze of the enchanting flower.

You didn't know where you were or even if you were on the same planet, yet you weren't afraid not the slightest. Maybe this was a dream of sorts one of mystery and temptation.

Standing up you looked around noticing a path. Those flowers again but this time they seemed to lead somewhere distant and far away. One by one they appeared further than your eye could see.

"Weird," You whispered deciding to absently follow their careful guidance. It didn't seem to matter where they were leading you all you wanted to do was to follow them.

Step by step you continued as they lead you away oblivious to the dense fog that arose from the ground encapturing your physique and hiding you from the rest of the world.

"Pretty flowers," You bent down and plucked one from the grass giving it a delicious sniff. Immediately a warm smile graced your face as your eyes closed shut. You really liked this dream…

Giggling you started to prance around chasing the flowers to their seemingly endless point. The wind breathed and laughed with you as the trees swayed and danced in your presence. Little lights of colors flew up beckoning you to follow them their with their auras breathing in union with your own.

Reds, pinks, greens, and purples all swarmed around you making your head spin and your feet dance thoughtlessly around as you chased them.

"Come…" They knowingly whispered making you giggle out loud in a state of oblivious bliss. Dancing around you bent up and down picking up more and more of the sensuous flowers that gathered up in your warm hands not forgetting to smell them and bask in the exhilaration.

But all of a sudden the flowers stopped in their tracks causing you to falter and trip over presumably nothing. With worried eyes, you tightly clutched your bouquet scared to even let a few of them go.

"Aren't the flowers so pretty?" A voice of velvet rang out in a purr. Your smile resumed on your face as you sat up inhaling the beautiful scent again delighted in the returning warm feeling gathering in your insides.

"Yes," You murmured too preoccupied with your task at hand. The stranger kneeled down in front of you admiring your smile and unknowing innocence.

"You know I've never met a human before." He whispered lightly leaning in closer to you. Looking up confused at his absurd statement you finally noticed the great big blue wings that shimmered against the moonlight.

"You're a-"

"A faerie." A knowing smile sneaked its way on his lips and deep down in the back of your mind, behind the fog, you knew this was dangerous. You had to-

"Why don't you smell some more flowers," He spoke out quickly plucking one from beside you, " the blue ones are my favorite." His eyes met yours as he shoved the flower against your face demanding you smell it. His eyes lit up flashing a shade of blue as you breathed in the flower and once again the fog took its place inside your mind ceasing all of your worries.

"Dance with me." You took his hand, his soft delicate cold hand that pulled you up with ease as he dragged you along willing to dance among the flowers and trees. A smile appeared on your face as you both moved back and forth not minding the silence nor the increasing presence of others arriving.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't want to but something was telling you to run away, but why? You giggled at the thought and continued in your magical waltz with the faerie as he twirled you around and round. Not once did his hands leave your body either taking seize of your hand or laying hold on your waist, but you didn't mind.

"Stay with me…" He whispered as he slowed the dancing to a halt while keeping you facing toward him. The faerie's wings fluttered in anticipation at your answer hoping it'll be the right one but you couldn't. Everything was a muddled mess the flowers, the forest, the faerie looming over you awaiting an answer.

But there it was again, that voice that whispered a warning. This time you would listen.

"I don't even know your name." The words tumbled out of your mouth while your face frowned into anxiety.

"Taeyong. My name is Taeyong." You looked up tracing his details with your eyes. He is so beautiful.

"My name is-,"

"Y/N." He whispered as his admiration grew alongside his expression. "I know," Taeyong smirked as the flash of blue moved across his eyes again.

"I think I should go home now, Taeyong." His wings jittered aggressively at your comment while his eyebrows furrowed together. Was it anger, confusion, or annoyance? Part of you wanted to know but the other half advised against it. The faerie may be enchanting but something was off about him. He wasn't like the faeries you read in story books.

A hand touched your face and you were reminded of your situation. Taeyong asked again for you to stay with him this time with a little more force to his words as his hand hooked onto your neck.

"I really think I should go home now…" Nervously you watched as he smiled wider than before.

"You are in my forest." He spoke louder as his other hand joined your neck. "You smelled my flowers. I know you'll like it here. So why don't you just say yes?" With a tilt of his head, he continued reminding you that you were most definitely in his land in his territory.

"We could live happily together. Dancing, talking… being in love. All of this until the end of time." A gut-wrenching wave of realization hit you as Taeyong spoke of his future intentions with you. You tried to move back but he just moved with you following your timid steps.

"I know what you want. I know your deepest desires, Y/N." He whispered moving his hands down along your arms down to your hands gripping them tightly as he intertwined them within his own.

"Don't you want to live in pure bliss forever? Don't you want to know what it's like to have everything you've ever wanted?"

"I want to go home Taeyong! I have a family and a life that doesn't include whatever crazy delusion this is!" Exasperated you breathed in calming yourself first, "Wake up, Y/N. Wake. Up." You closed your eyes tightly trying to wake up from whatever dream this was. It was fun at first but now it was getting frightening.

Taeyong's once calm demeanor suddenly flipped as he sneered at your comment. "You won't be able to escape me that easily," Emiting a low growl he quickly moved your hands closer to him as you struggled against him.

"Hear my words!" The sudden shout frightened you as you looked up finally noticing the others who have gathered around as they encircled you and Taeyong together. "I chose Y/N L/N as my mate, my only soulmate." The words shocked you as your efforts slowed in disbelief. You tried to grab his attention begging him with pleas of no's but he paid no mind to your pathetic cries.

"I promise to love, to hold, and to cherish my only chosen," With angry eyes, he moved your left hand to his chest as he pressed his own to yours. "May death fear our carnation. May time fear our uniting." With a slight jolt of energy, his hand began to emit a blinding light against your cheast that pricked your entire body. You tried to pull away fearfully but hissed in pain at the sad attempt. "Even the gods of the land will hear of our procreation and rejoice in absolution." A stinging pain filled your bones as your own hand started to light up too.

"You are going to stay with me, forever." Taeyong lowered his gaze to your own as you cried at the pain. The prickling sensation seemed to increase by the second as the light grew brighter and brighter.

"I told you," He heaved as his eyes became glossy, " you won't escape me that easily." Simaltaniusoly you both fell at the increase in pain that seemed to even affect Taeyong this time. Groans filled the forest as you writhed against Taeyong unable to move away from him. He too seemed to twist in agony too making him pull you closer flush against his chest and hand still pressed onto you.

Little by little you could hear the sounds of chanting growing louder as the force of nature swayed in symphony, in ultimate divine aggreance. You tried to make out the words using what little consciousness you had but failed leaving only a guttural of annoyance. Taeyong only seemed to grow more and more unsteady as his hand tangled itself in your hair letting out an erotic moan that sparked something inside you.

"No, no no no-" You mumbled as you grew hot at the feeling of his silken lips against your burning neck.

"I need you," He groaned as he lavished your neck causing you to moan the same erotic sound he made not too long ago. Taeyong continued to leach off your neck nipping, licking, and sucking every inch of it. Unwilling you fell into the trap of arousal influenced by his damned stimulation. Both of you were twitching in invigoration excited by the lust that filled the air all around.

Taeyong erratically moved to the side of your neck making sure to kiss it all around. "I'll love you forever," A deep inhale between the two of you arose as he devoured your aroma. A broken moan left your lips as he grazed his lips delicately this time, "Taeyong-", within an instant, his delicate touch was erased. A scream of pain erupted as you felt his teeth sink in harder as he clamped down on your neck not letting go. Tears fled your eyes faster before as blood trickled down your neck and around his fevered mouth.

You tried to push him off but he wouldn't budge. After a few seconds, he released you as you both came down from the high fervor, panting and completely out of breath. The chanting stopped and the force of nature calmed down together with you, it had to be over. Please be over.

"I'll find you Y/N." The faerie panted looking psychotic as blood dripped from his lips onto his neck and chest. "You'll always be mine." He whispered as he petted your head calming your frizzy hair and pulling you closer to his body.

Your eyesight began to blur as you started to drift off into sleep, "I'll love you Y/N," Taeyong whispered as he laid your head onto his shoulder hugging you tightly before everything faded to an empty abyss. "Until the end of time…"

-

You gasped and jerked awake feeling dizzy and sweaty as your mind started to wake back up. What kind of dream was that? Groaning you grasped your head feeling the worst headache coming on but as you did so you felt a sting all along the side of your neck. You stopped what you were doing immediately and slowed your breathing.

"No, no no…" You held your breath as you brought your hand slowly to your neck scared of what you might find. You touched it and almost let out a sob at the feeling. Dried blood with an open wound the size of a bite mark.

Looking around terrified at finding the faerie in the room your eyes caught sight of something else… a bouquet of blue flowers that were placed gently on your window seal.

A dreaded cry sounded as your hand flew to your mouth. It was real…

"It wasn't a dream…"

[agattthaa]

Warm

Paring: Anna/Lane

Word count:

Rating: T

Summary: Lane didn't know what brought her that sensation of warmth, the blanket covering her, the body heat of the woman on her side or the feelings that same woman evoked to her.

Tagging: @rc-catalog

It had clearly been a stupid idea to bring Anna along. 

 

The lecture that was supposed to belong to only herself, would now also belong to the other woman. 

 

But it was not like Lane had any other choice. She had to see the marking that someone left in that tree, and the general had strictly forbidden her to go until he had assigned a group to escort her. Obviously, Lane was caught trying to sneak out. 

 

But, to her own luck or lack of it, the one to catch her was Anna. 

 

After a short interrogation, the woman simply grabbed her coat and declared that she was going too. Obviously, Lane tried to stop her, but Anna didn’t listen to her, leaving the manor by the front door and climbing one of the snowmobiles and turning around to look at Lane with a wicked smile and waiting for her to join her on top of it. 

 

Maybe if she decrypted the book before the general found them, the lecture wouldn’t be that long. 

 

The two of them clearly would not have peace for an entire week. 

 

But she really had no other choice. She was sure that there was something else, some other important clue, hidden below that marked tree. She had to see it. Urgently. And the general had promised an escort group over 36 hours before, and still nothing. So, it was clear that he had his attention focused somewhere else and that Lane had no time to waste. 

 

Then she simply climbed the snowmobile, placing her hands on Anna’s waist and smiling to herself when the woman pulled her closer by the hands, making Lane hug her from behind before turning the vehicle on and starting to drive towards the marked spot. 

 

If they really didn’t want to cause that many suspicions or to have a smaller lecture, they surely shouldn’t have stolen an entire vehicle. But lately, since she was forbidden to do research on the mysterious pathogen, she has become more daring, sometimes almost challenging to the general’s authority. And who was Lane to stop her? 

 

If Anna wanted to tear that entire manor apart with her own hands, what else could Lane do besides picking up the glass shards before Anna could hurt herself? 

 

So if the microbiologist wanted to accompany her to the middle of nowhere to a probable scene of murder and then later listen to the longest yapping of this world, Lane would only hold her close while she could. Then, only the cold Siberian wind and snow and the tall, dark trees would be the witnesses of how easily Anna could sway Lane. Only they would be aware that she had become someone special to Lane. Only they would be aware that she had become Lane's weakness. 

 

With her quick thinking and adorable angry face, and with the loud laugh that only Lane could get out of her. 

 

Out of all the experiences that Lane could have, clearly being in love was the most defenseless one. Against everything she had been taught and everything she was led to believe, Lane had allowed someone to get close enough to turn all her defense walls into dust. 

 

Anna had sneaked inside Lane's space and heart like a serpent, sneaking behind the tall grass and only letting her presence be known when it was way too late for her prey to defend herself or to run away. Lane only noticed that Anna had completely wrapped herself in Lane's heart when it was way too late for anything to be done about it. 

 

And the surprising part is that she didn't want to do anything about it. Surprisingly, the knowledge that her heart laid completely bare into someone else's hand wasn't nearly as frightening as she once believed it would be. 

 

After everything, Anna was surprisingly soft and kind, and her happiness made Lane happy, and in hopeless moments, her mind traveled straight to Anna's laughter. And it wasn't something that she wanted to give up only because of her fears. Not now, not ever. Not Anna. 

 

Instead, she hugged the woman closer, closing her eyes and resting her head against Anna's shoulder, letting all her worries drift away as she felt the woman breathing against her cheek, and abruptly getting up when she felt the snowmobile suddenly stopping, still too far away from their destination. Her confusion ended when she saw that it had started snowing. 

 

They couldn't move forward, not while the weather stayed like this, so Anna parked the mobile against the closest tree she could find, climbed down the mobile, and sat on the bare cold ground, hugging herself close and smiling to Lane, who took out a blanket from her backpack, sat down on Anna's side, and threw the blacket over the two of them.

 

The microbiologist instantly curled herself against Lane, hugging her close by the waist and rubbing her noise against Lane's neck, letting out a small smile when Lane hugged her by the shoulder.

 

-You are so warm. 

 

-No, you are just freezing. Come closer. 

 

Anna was shamelessly to comply with Lane's wish, and due to their impossibly close proximity, they were merging into each other in a way that neither of them knew were one starter or the other ended. 

 

Anna held her by the waist, pulling closer and closer and closer, and Lane had no idea if what was warming her was the blacket, the body heat of the woman on her side, or the feelings that same woman evoked for her.

 

The microbiologist rubbed her nose against Lane's neck, her head slowly climbing up until her nose was rubbing against Lane's cheek. 

 

-Are you feeling less cold?

 

Anna pulled away to look into her eyes, the cold tinting her face red and her eyes looking deeply between Lane's eyes and lips. 

 

-I could feel warmer. 

 

Lane only felt Anna's hands grabbing her by the base of her neck before their lips finally united. Their cold noses rubbing against each other and their warm breaths merging into only one. 

 

One kiss should not be that powerful. One kiss should not be enough to make Lane want to do everything so that Anna still smiled against her lips on the next morning. One kiss should not be enough to make her want to belong completely to someone else. 

 

And still, it was.

 

When they parted, the air around them didn't feel as cold anymore, and their smiles mirrored each other's. The rare smile on Lane's lips only made Anna smile brighter. And they smiled brighter when their lips met again and again. 

 

And while they were in each other's arms, suddenly the world felt warmer.

[belit0]

Hii!! First of all, how are you? And how do you feel? I first wanted to thank you for doing such a beautiful blog. You truly have a talent to write and you write so well. I am always looking forward for any new posts of yours, i just love your blog so so much!!!!<333 I’m sorry i am so obsessed with your blog and how you write the Uchiha man so fine ans well. Can you maybe write about how Madara gets into an argument with his wife and it comes to the point where he hits her, (slapping or punching her because of his anger) he hits her so hard it causes a bruise on her skin. And how he will try to make it up for her and how he will react to it? Love you and your blog! 🩷

Helloooooo!! I just bought my first iPad ever, so I'm really happy about it!!! In my country, it is very difficult to get cases and accessories, so currently fighting for them🤣🙌🏻. I really appreciate your words and your presence, it genuinely makes me very happy to know people enjoy what I do and like my content.

Nothing to apologize for, I love that you obsess, and having someone to share my own Uchiha fixation with!!

With this request, I am revealing one of my biggest HCS about the Uchiha brothers: a violent authority figure, and all the traumas that come with it.

He is not proud, not at all. When his hand connects with her face it feels exactly like the first time his mother hit him.

(Y/N) falls to the ground from the force of the impact, and looks at him in disbelief. Her eyes are so wide they seem about to explode, and she holds the area where Madara struck her as a silent tear slides over her fingers. The woman seems unable to move, paralyzed, and the Uchiha feels life stop for a second.

Never in his life did he think of becoming what he hated so much, of adopting the same actions from the figure who took it upon herself to make his life a living hell as a child. Madara grew up traumatized by his mother's hands, the violence she imparted both verbally and physically, and tried to channel it all on him to protect his siblings.

When she finally passed away, he was left with lifelong scars, both bodily and psychologically, which he decided would help him to never become the horrible human being she was. For many years, he conducted his anger through war, the battlefield, and the death he carried on his hands every day.

With the new stage of peace, that ordeal was over, and so was his source of personal liberation. Sure, training with the Senju or his brother always brought significant physical relaxation, but no longer being able to attack with the intent to kill made the practice sessions seem like a joke.

Frustrated by his inability to release without killing, Madara lost that one important outlet for his anger, for venting his rage, and began to progressively accumulate it. Between dealing with a new village, his younger brother and the entire clan still reluctant to accept peace with the enemy, and leading an entire family, it didn't take long for him to explode in the worst possible way, and evoke all his childhood memories at once.

His body moved on its own, without him even analyzing what he was about to do, and (Y/N) had no time to react. 

They were arguing over genuine stupidity, the Uchiha not having washed the dishes he used for breakfast that morning because he had to rush off to a meeting, and his wife having to take care of it for him. (Y/N) had made it clear from the beginning of their relationship that she would not submit to being a housewife, to living for and by her husband, and that she would maintain her independence despite having Madara by her side.

How little tolerance she had for the one time he left something behind, only because he was in a hurry, got on his nerves, and he exploded thanks to all the accumulated problems he was carrying on his back. His open hand connected with (Y/N)'s cheek before he could figure out exactly what he was doing, and sent her straight to the ground with the force of the collision.

As he stared at his wife on the floor, he could only see himself as a child, tiny in the face of his batterer, small with no options and no way out. Circumstances managed to bring out the worst in him, what he thought he had overcome, and he had no tools to face such a scenario. He never believed he had any aspect of his mother in him, he promised himself never to be like her, and he had failed.

He felt dirty.

The Uchiha is speechless when seeing how his wife gets up and runs away, terrified by the cruel action of her man, and takes refuge in her brother-in-law's house. Madara can only listen, from the same place where he stood frozen after hitting her, as (Y/N) lunges against Izuna's front door, demanding between screams and tears to let her in.

Seconds later, and with a sepulchral silence in the air, the Uchiha senses how his younger brother walks into his home, a small and incredulous voice asking "What the fuck did you do, Madara?"

It has been years since he last cried, back when he thought he was about to lose the only immediate family he had left, that time when he held his Otouto close in his arms and prayed to the heavens and all their gods to let him live on.

Today, Madara surrenders to the ground again, falling to his knees and indulging in his anguish, reliving traumatic events in his mind like a movie he cannot pause. He has no words to explain, nor does he know what to say, and all he can do is allow the uncontrollable flow of his tears.

Izuna, perplexed, falls to the ground beside him, hugging him and knowing no questions need to be asked.

He himself was a victim of his mother, and his older brother protected him at every turn, taking all the beatings and holding back tears to look brave in front of his siblings. The younger Uchiha knows what this is all about, and he knows better than to say anything.

Engrossed in his journey into the past, he knows there is no way to help him at this point, and Izuna retreats without further ado.

Madara, on the other hand, lasts in the same position all night, completely blocked by his emotions and unable to regain control over his body. He has been subjected to all kinds of tortures, faced the greatest warriors, and dealt with unimaginable powers on the battlefield, but nothing compares to this.

The next day, he can do nothing but disappear from the face of the earth, isolate himself in the old Uchiha compound, lose track of time in his family's abandoned territory, and continue to punish himself for what he did. He returns home, to the house where he grew up amidst punishment and abuse, and walks through each room, mentally seeing the image of his mother above him, harshly beating him.

He will stay there as long as he thinks necessary, without eating, without drinking water, tormenting himself until he thinks he has purged all his ills.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

re: your last post -- I think Dune is like. it's a tragedy because it was always going to end this way but it didn't necessarily have to come to that end in the way that it did. but it did. and maybe it *would* have anyway. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Yeah yeah yeah I reblogged that post specifically for the uncertainty bit because like. Was it always gonna end this way? We don't know. Yes the characters are trapped by circumstances set in motion thousands of years before they were born, but they also make choices within those circumstances and if they'd made a different choice here or there maybe things would have been different.

I've talked other places about the idea of Dune as a double-edged tragedy, one that Paul is both victim and cause of. I think in the book in particular, it's very easy to take Paul's subjective feeling that he has no choice, that the jihad is coming no matter what he does, and accept that as the objective truth. I think there are some things in the book that reinforce this, particularly the fact that the war just kind of starts without his direct input at the end of the book. And I think people who have read further in the book series tend to look at some of the stuff that comes up later with Leto II and the Golden Path and project that backwards onto Dune and say well Paul really didn't have a choice after all because in 5,000 years you'll see this was the only way to save humanity. But the idea of the Golden Path isn't present in Dune and it's not clear Frank Herbert had even thought of it at that point.

The Villeneuve movies do a lot to emphasize Paul's agency and the idea that it was his conscious choices that led us to where we are at the end of the movie--including the final choice, which is to actively declare war with "lead them to paradise." And I think the possibility that it didn't have to turn out this way is like...intrinsic to that half of the tragedy. That's the half of the tragedy that Paul causes, by choosing to use these people that he was supposed to be in solidarity with to secure his own personal power. For that tragedy to hit, you kind of have to believe that it didn't have to be this way, that another outcome could have been possible.

Like, what would have happened if Paul had gone to the south with everyone else but not drunk the Water of Life and not gone all Lisan al-Gaib at the war council? Who knows! We only see the set of choices that get made. Because part of Paul's motivation is revenge for the murder of his family, he summons the Emperor to Arrakis to hash out his personal beef. Because the Emperor shows up, the Harkonnens alert the other Great Houses who send warships to Arrakis. Because the Great Houses refuse to accept Paul as Emperor and their armies are right fuckin there, Paul has "no choice" but to strike first and start the war he was trying to avoid.

If Paul hadn't been in charge and the Fremen had decided on their own that now was the time to unite and attack Arrakeen and overthrow the Harkonnens, would things have been different? If they won, they would still find themselves in the same geopolitical trap, where they have what every imperialist power wants and now that they have thrown off their current colonial masters all the other Great Houses are eyeing Arrakis like free real estate. Is it possible to navigate this situation without a ""friendly"" imperialist power on your side? This is like, the eternal postcolonial question, and how it could get answered in this fictional universe is only limited by one's political imagination.

So there's that. But at the same time the movies are really good at evoking this sense of doom in that...sometimes you are trapped by historical events so over-determined that there is no way out; you just have to figure out how to survive them. (Which, shall we say, feels relevant!) Sometimes you are a teenager who didn't sign up for any of this shit and you just happen to be living at this massive historical inflection point where literal millennia of Fuck Around turns into Find Out and the entire order of the Known Universe collapses and realigns, and the movies do a good job of capturing just how much that can fucking suck. And they do it in this way that's not excusing or justifying the awful things Paul ends up doing but still has compassion about the shit situation he's in. Something something men make history but not in circumstances of their own choosing and sometimes the circumstances are just gonna Get You. That's the tragedy that Paul is a victim of.

I am super super curious to see how this is all gonna play out in Dune Messiah. Because for a lot of the beginning of Messiah, Paul is very "woe is me there is simply nothing I can do about this galaxy-destroying war that I have unleashed, due to the power of my own myth it is out of my control." And reading the book, the whole time I was like is it though. Is it really Paul?? Those warships don't refuel themselves. Someone is giving the orders. Someone is writing the checks. And especially with Denis saying that Messiah will be about Paul trying to "save his soul," I cannot wait to see how these ideas play out.