#not just appearance wise but his personality too

[yanmuffins]

what if the dimension of batman vs vampires p&f reader and damian accidentally stumbles upon is vampire!reader dimension? oh, and they arrive after vampire!reader is killed and turned into a vampire

the drama if p&f reader looks the exact same as vampire!reader (honestly, i see them as two different people since p&f reader is the same age as Damian and vampire!reader seems to be dick's age), since bruce looks at them and can't quite remember If vampire!reader looked like this when they were little

they all looking at p&f reader and damian being kids and wondering If vampire!reader were like that at this age, but then realizing that they don't have memories of vampire!reader like that

the despair, the anxiety, the guilt they fell

Why didn't they noticed vampire!reader sooner? why didn't they acknowledged them? why why why why

now vampire!reader it's nowhere to be found, and they could be in danger (they are), hell, for all they know they could be dead! (they kinda are)

and p&f reader and damian slowly backing away as they watch these alternate versions of their family descend into madness

let's just hope that version of the batfam finds vampire!reader fast and don't become desperate enough to end up becoming yanderes for p&f reader too

context &. context.

interesting!!!

i think vampire! reader and p&f! reader are basically just different versions of the same person. p&f! reader is gender neutral so they could be whatever gender you want them to be, while vampire! reader is female. also, you are correct, vampire! reader is older. while p&f! reader is around a year older than damian and came to the manor after him (being around 10 when they came to the manor and 14 in the fic), vampire! reader is around 21-years-old, closer to jason in age, and came to the manor somwhere between dick leaving for the teen titans and bruce adopting jason.

so, yes, p&f! reader is not only younger, but was the last one to arrive at the manor in their reality, and they had a pretty good, healthy childhood before that. not to mention bruce already had damian, so the concept of a biological child wasn't entirely alien to him, and they already had their hands full with him. the familial bonds ate tight-knit, lives are too busy, bruce already has to deal with his exceptional children and since reader is so normal, they're kinda overlooked.

and although there are similarities in the way and reasons both readers are neglected, i think it's worse with vampire! reader. she's around 7 when she comes to the manor, the circumstances around it being extremely shady (it was a scandal), and she's there before anyone except dick, whom she has shallow interactions with. from then on comes jason and the following children, and she just has to watch her father (and older brother) make time for everyone but her.

anyway, appearence-wise, p&f! reader and vampire! essentially look the same, or at least extremely similiar. but here's the thing: vampire reader's bruce does remember what his daughter looked like when she was around p&f! reader's age. and that's what makes him crumble, because vampire! reader looked abstemious and somber from a yong age, which is a far cry from her younger, alternate-dimension version.

that fact hits him the hardest, but dick notices it too. his birdie looked like a mini-adult from the day she came to the manor, and seeing p&f! reader he just wishes he could have actually bothered to be there for her. jason notices it the most because he was the one closest to reader before joker killed him, as she was the only one in the manor around his age. the others, though?

they have no idea. mostly because they weren't there when vampire! reader was a kid, but there are some memories; of her welcoming them home, little acts of affection, trying to get close to them. and they took it for granted. they started noticing her lately, yeah, but as it seems it had been a bit too late.

vampire! au damian would feel kinda jealous of the sibling bond p&f! reader and damian share, it would stir conflict between the two damians which i think could be funny amidst the angst (if you ignore that they're both kinda terrified of this batfam spiraling). all in all, i think bruce thinks of how shit it is to have a child missing so he would make sure to help send both p&f! reader and damian home safely. he's got his own kid to take care of and good lord, that's going too big of a mess for him to even worry about the two intruders in his dimension.

[nekohime19]

Macaque study # S5

At last let's talk about the LMK S5 and Macaque portrayal in it! Took me so much time to edit this one but it's here!

So, to summarize what I said in the previous study of Macaque, after season 4 Macaque showcases a lot of redeeming qualities :

He stepped up to help even though he wasn't asked to, thus showcasing his care.

He admitted that the image of Wukong he was fueling, the one of an uncaring person only thriving for power, wasn't real. And showcased traces of yearning towards Wukong.

Both monkeys reached an understanding at the end of the season. Wukong even extended an olive branch in the form of a peach popsicle.

So if after season 3 Macaque's place within the group was still tentative, this time after season 4 he showed that he was willing to help even when nobody asked him to, thus cementing the tentative trust he forged at the end of season 3. Now, saying that he's buddy-buddy with the rest of the group isn't quite true. There is a distance between them that hasn't been addressed yet.

S5 ep 1

Macaque appears in the first half of the episode, narratively his appearance is here to highlight the season's main plot : MK's origins. He's here to introduce troubles. Essentially, he's doing groundwork for the rest of the season, encouraging the viewers to already question MK's origins.

Now story-wise I think his appearance is very interesting because it highlights the current state of his relationship with Wukong. While season 4 ended in a tentative offer of allyship, season 5 begins with an argument between the two monkeys, an argument they tried to avoid.

So, right after MK left, And Wukong fail to broach the subject of his monkey form, Macaque appears through Wukong's shadow :

Macaque : Well, that went well bud.

Wukong : Hugh, are you actually lurking here?

Macaque : Hey, this mountain has been my home just as long as yours.

This first section of the dialogue is relatively tame. Macaque is falling back on his habits which are : teasing/ taunting. Macaque is shown as smiling, relatively laid-back, while he nips at Wukong's unsuccessful attempt at talking (of course, the “that went well bud” is sarcastic, but it's not as bitter as we are used to concerning Macaque taunting). And the moment Wukong questions Macaque's presence on the mountain, Macaque answers with another quip.

It's also interesting to see that Macaque still considers the mountain as his home and lurks here despite having the freedom to go and explore the world. Of course, I do believe the writers are keeping him around for plot purposes BUT I also find it sweet that he cannot bring himself to leave the mountain. Perhaps, in some way he's scared to let go of the familiarity that the mountain offers. Macaque says that the mountain was his home just as long as Wukong's, considering that Wukong was born on the mountain, it's not far-fetched to think Macaque was born here too. If we follow this line of thinking, it means Macaque never truly left the mountain. So, in a way, Macaque's only experiences with the outside world have been : the brotherhood's wars, his death at Wukong's hand, and his time as a slave under LBD….So I can understand if he doesn't want to leave the mountain yet.

Now, after this first relatively tame section, things turn more serious.

Wukong : You found anything?

Macaque : no but with the Jade Emperor gone the celestial realms… Things aren't good. Wukong… the kid.

Wukong : I know.

Macaque : You need to talk to him.

Wukong : I know. But… He’s not ready.

Macaque : You mean you're not ready. You really are the worst mentor.

First, we learn that Macaque has been lurking around the celestial realms and probably shared his findings with Wukong more than once if Wukong is aware of his lurking. That in itself told us that they take their roles seriously, they're preparing themselves for future troubles, as they said they would at the end of season 4. At the same time, I find it interesting how Macaque is trying to push Wukong around.

He begins by highlighting the importance of talking to MK, especially since he just witnessed Wukong's unsuccessful attempt. But Wukong is dismissive. He answers with a succinct “I know” and turns away from Macaque, as if fleeing the conversation. Macaque notices his unwillingness and frowns, he insists again, and he fully turns towards Wukong. Once again, Wukong repeats himself, while still averting Macaque's gaze, giving the impression he's still fleeing, BUT then he meets Macaque gaze heads on at the end of his sentence : “He's not ready.” This shows that Wukong is sure of himself, he's not just fleeing, he has seen how MK avoids the conversation, the kid is truly not ready. Yet Macaque answers with a quip meant to push Wukong out of his comfort zone.

Yes, maybe the kid isn't ready. But maybe you're also not ready either.

Macaque knows how to make Wukong's react, he's trying to push him around. Yet when Macaque sees that Wukong is getting angry (cue Wukong growling) he drops his smile and attitude, because he doesn't want to fight Wukong, they have more important things to worry about.

Macaque : He needs–We need to know everything we can.

Wukong : He's just a kid. Can we just-

Macaque : He's not just a kid! Why him Wukong? Did you know about-when you chose him…

Wukong : No, I didn't know. It just felt…right.

Macaque : And that doesn't bother you!? This kid just happens to have all your powers, that is at the center of all these battles. And you never questioned why? None of us even knew he existed? How?

They're both obviously frustrated by the other, yet contrary to other seasons they try to not let this turn into a fight. When one of them feels like they're on the verge of snapping, they turn away and put some distance between themself and the other. Everytime they feel like exploding, they try to reign it in. In itself this is a huge improvement from their previous fights. They're really trying to not let this develop into a heated argument.

As we can see in those various shots, they always try to keep a distance between themselves, they're really trying to not let this turns into a fight :

At the same time, Macaque is trying to make Wukong realize that they cannot wait anymore. The question of MK's origins was always looming over their heads, but Wukong never looked into it. Macaque believes they cannot brush the matter aside anymore. That MK needs to know, that they need to know to be prepared. Macaque is a highly cautious individual, so character-wise it makes sense for him to have this need of preparation. He cannot let MK's origins remain a mystery, not when so many coincidences lead him to believe someone is pulling the strings.

But on the other hand, on what grounds can Macaque criticize Wukong's mentoring when he hasn’t been around for long? Macaque is right in his worry, but his way of broaching the subject with Wukong is not right, especially since he's very citisizing of the way Wukong handled the situation. Perhaps because his feelings for Wukong are still very much tainted by his previous hatred, he's very harsh with him. At the same time, if he's not harsh with Wukong, who will be?

In the end, despite their best efforts, the conversation turns into a fight.

Before leaving Macaque says :

Macaque : Look, that kid idolizes you, you're his literal hero and you just…

Wukong : I just what?

Macaque : He needs to know it's not all on him. You need to do better.

Macaque is very harsh and critical, and he's NOT the right person to say this, especially since he has no right to criticize Wukong on mentoring. But he's the only one that can currently push Wukong out of his comfort zone.

At the end of the episode, we see Macaque laying on the same tree that symbolized his friendship with Wukong in season 4 surrounded by monkeys.

First, how obsessed do you have to be to be laying on this particular tree? Macaque… really I have no words, how much of a simp are you? Seconds, the monkeys truly missed him 🥹. It's good that he's home, finally.

S5 ep 2

I found this episode particularly interesting for its duality, at the same time it shows Macaque closeness with Wukong yet it also highlights the distance between them (while also highlighting the distance between Macaque and the rest of the team).

Closness :

Macaque recognizes Li Jing’s spell before anyone else, showcasing how he was already familiar with it. Macaque is also the first to rush to Wukong.

In prison, one look is enough for Wukong to convey his plan to Macaque.

Still in prison, Wukong laughs at Macaque's joke concerning “MK lawyer bit".

During the fight against the celestial soldiers, both monkeys fight in harmony, defeating them together.

After leaving the celestial realm, Wukong explicitly says “I trust no one that isn't standing there right now.” Even Macaque is surprised by this affirmation, as he is standing here, meaning he is part of the people Wukong implicitly trusts.

Distance :

In prison, Macaque is standing in one corner while both MK and Wukong are sitting in the middle, thus creating a physical distance between them representative of the symbolical distance that is still present in their relationship. Moreover, as we can see in the shot, a chain is separating the three, furthermore highlighting the divide between the three characters.

Wukong and Macaque argue a lot. Even MK acknowledges the tension between the two. Wukong even says “Classic, I get all the punishment, you get to mop” which can be a reference to how he was constantly the one being punished (the mountain, the journey, the circlet) yet Macaque always acted like the one suffering. In response, Macaque says “Maybe going to jail wasn't on my agenda for tonight.”, which can be a reference to how Macaque is always getting dragged into Wukong's mess.

After landing, Macaque picks a fight with Wukong and both end up arguing once more. More precisely, Macaque calls out Wukong on his lack of substantial plan, doubting how whimsical, possibly not real rocks, could be seen as a great plan. Once again, Macaque is highly cautious.

This episode does a great job at showing us the chemistry/ the potential dynamic of Macaque and Wukong (their closeness) but still acknowledges the distance between them that cannot be totally breached yet.

At the same time, perhaps because Wukong acknowledges that he trusts Macaque, Macaque in turns decides to trust Wukong and MK. He sacrifices himself to Li Jin, thus buying time for the team to escape and go search for those (possibly not real) rocks, a plan he clearly didn't agree with minutes before.

It could also be a call back to Wukong sarcastic comments “Oh sure, cause normally you just rush to my rescue.” in season 4. Here, Macaque IS rushing to Wukong's rescue, both when he rushed to him when Li Jin threw the circlet at him, and now when he's sacrificing himself to buy time.

We can argue that Macaque never truly apologized to MK and the others, and I do think a verbal apology is still needed, but I don't think it's fair to brush aside his actions as “idiotic suicidal tendencies.” He helped save the world twice, and here he's yet again sacrificing himself. You cannot forget those actions, or brush them aside as bad writing, because you don't like their implications. Yes, Macaque never formally apologized, he still needs to, but saying he did nothing to gain the others’ trust is a bit much and quite uncalled for. For all it's worth, the others do trust him, Wukong trusts him, but that doesn't mean he's their best friend either. He's someone the others can depend on, now is he someone they like is still to be debated on (I do think MK likes him, Wukong too even if it's more complicated, but I don't think Pigsy likes him very much).

S5 ep 7

This episode is great because it does show us multiple things concerning Macaque. It further emphasizes this distance we have observed between Macaque and the others but also showcases how differently Macaque and Wukong process what happened between them.

After saving him from the memory eye, Macaque argues with Wukong (“Geez Wukong, kinda wasting my sacrifice here”). Furthermore, we can clearly see a physical distance, even more so a barrier, between them.

There is a pillar between them, a fracture of some sort that further highlights the divide they cannot mend yet. At the same time, we can notice how differently Macaque and Wukong react in this scene. Macaque is turned towards Wukong, his tail high, he's more annoyed than anything, he acts normally by picking a fight. Whereas Wukong is turning away, tail low, we could even spot tears in his eyes minutes before. He's withdrawn.

Clearly, those two processed Macaque's death differently. Macaque had time to come to terms with what happened to him. He lived through his vengeance arc, he processed the fight in more ways than one. But Wukong isn't the same. It's very likely that he repressed those memories, that he erased them from his mind (cue the numerous times he avoided the word death, instead referring to Macaque as “leaving” or “coming back”).

But this episode also showcases Macaque distance with the rest of the team.

When Macaque saves Pigsy, he does so in the background, by that I mean that he doesn't show himself in front of Pigsy. He stays in the back. Not willing to be on the same level. Moreover, when Sandy brings everyone into a hug, Macaque is at first not part of it, Sandy has to bring him into it, and even then Macaque looks greatly surprised and even confused by the gesture.

Clearly, Macaque is shown as withdrawn when it comes to the team. On numerous occasions throughout the season, he put himself in the back. Because he knows that even though they might trust him, it doesn't mean that they like him. Macaque might have redeemed himself, but it doesn't mean that his development is over, he gained the other's trust, but he'll have to go further to gain their affection. He's not suddenly everyone's best friend. As we can see, and we will keep seeing it, there is physical distance between him and others in each of his appearances.

S5 ep 8

There isn't too much to say about this episode, mainly because Macaque doesn't appear much. It does groundwork for the next episodes, with Macaque being able to free his hand of Xianglu power for a bit, informing us that Macaque powers are effective against him.

Also, Mei make one of the greatest joke :

MK : I'm very used to all our used to our enemies being just your recycled old enemies.

Mei : or like your ex best friends.

Also, not Xianglu acting like he was friend with Wukong when in JTTW he only appear on one chapter and Wukong kicks his butt cause he was scaring a village.

S5 ep 9/10

Ah, so much to say about those two episodes, 😌. The season ties up nicely everything we already observed about Macaque, mainly the physical distance we often noticed between him and the team throughout his numerous appearances.

I will adopt a more thematic approach to analyze those two episodes, instead of my usual chronological order, because I believe it is more relevant in this case.

Confrontation with MK

Macaque confrontation with MK is a great callback to the end of season 4, when Macaque encourages MK to walk his own path. Here, Macaque is trying to let MK know that he doesn't have to bear everything alone.

Macaque : this isn't the kind of things I meant when I told you to chose your own destiny!

MK : you don't understand if I don't do this everyone loses, everything get destroyed!

Macaque : You don't always have to be the hero! It doesn't alway need to be you!

MK : this is the only way

Macaque : You don't know that, you can't know that.

Macaque first sentence is a callback to season 4. Clearly, Macaque is trying to dissuade MK. Trying to let him see that he doesn't have to save everyone alone. It is something Macaque already mentionned at the beginning of the season, when he told Wukong to do better, he also told him that MK needed to know “that everything wasn't on him”. Maybe because he saw what happened with Wukong, what happened when someone decides to bear everything alone, he doesn't want the same things to happen to MK.

The “You don't always have to be the hero” is quite powerful in itself. Macaque always had some problems with heroes, but he did acknowledged how wrong his definition of heroes was in season 4. Here, Macaque tries to take MK's burden away, to let him see that he doesn't need to always sacrifice himself, but also he's trying to let MK see that he's not alone. I think it's very clever to let Macaque have this particular line. Especially since in season 3 MK was the one to show Macaque that heroes never abandon their friends, and thus that heroes aren't alone. Here, Macaque is trying to reenact in some ways what MK did in season 3 by trying to convince MK that he doesn't have to do everything alone, that he has people to depend on.

But of course, Macaque get interrupted before he can truly get through MK, 😭.

Closing the distance

Macaque distance with the other characters (and especially Wukong) was an underlying theme throughout the whole season, especially within the shots’ composition. As we already saw, Macaque was always withdrawn, he never truly fit in the frame, always cut off by either an external object (chains, pillars) or pushed to the background. And of course, the end of season 5 offer a tentative resolution of this story-line.

First, we have this very short scene, after Macaque is interrupted by Xianglu, he decides to give his all and free the other and himself at the cost of his strengh. Before doing this, he clearly say while glancing at Wukong :

Macaque : here goes nothing, make it count.

So Macaque is putting everything in Wukong's hands. He explicitly decides to put his trust on Wukong. This is a great improvement, especially when we consider how cautious Macaque usually is. Moreover, once Macaque free everyone he falls to the ground in a way that is very remiscinent of season 3, after the fight with the possessed Wukong. However, contrary to season 3 where Wukong walked over Macaque while not even glancing at him, this time Wukong reaches towards Macaque and asks if he's okay.

Macaque is the one who has to push him to leave. This is a great callback to make us realizes how much those two evolved compared to season 3 and how much things changed between them.

Morever, after MK leaps in the pillar and everything fades to white, each member of the team calls for MK but Macaque is the only one calling for Wukong. Probably because he knows that if MK was able to jump, it meant Wukong failed, and thus meant Wukong is probably crushed by guilt right now.

But truly, the gesture that ciment Macaque place is Wukong reaching towards him.

Once the pillar is on the verge of being destroyed, and everyone stands together to face what is probably their end, once again we can see that Macaque is in the background.

There is still a distance between him and the team. But this time the distance isn't ignored, instead someone reach towards Macaque, inviting him to stand together with the team, on the same level, and that someone is Wukong.

The fact that Wukong is the one who pulls Macaque at the forefront, who close off the distance between them, is a very powerful gesture. It is a sign of their healing, but also, symbolically, can represent how truly Wukong is the one that connect Macaque to the others. It is through Wukong that Macaque met the team, and thus Wukong has to be the one that close this distance we have observed throughout the season.

Unfortunately, as we all know, Xianglu (damn guy) will intefer before Macaque can take Wukong's hand. Symbolically, it can represents how difficult mending a relationship can be, and even if both parties reach out to each other, it doesn't mean that everything will be healed. Yet the attempt was made all the same. Wukong reached out to him, and Macaque reached back, this alone is proof that their relationship, even if rocky, is slowly healing.

It is proof that this distance, while not fully breached yet, is slowly being closed.

Macaque's powers

Those two episodes also gave us something really interesting to think about and that is Macaque's powers. Macaque's powers are admittedly the most mysterious of LMK and that is because his powers don’t come from JTTW. Indeed, it is never mentioned, in JTTW, that the Six-eared Macaque possess shadow powers. As such, Macaque's powers are an unknown factor to us that had never been truly explained.

Here, we finally have some lead on his powers, especially when they directly confront Xianglu's powers. Indeed, Macaque is the only one able to free himself from Xianglu's hold. Moreover, his shadows are very similar to what Xianglu's uses, the only exception being their colors.

Xianglu : Oh that was quite a trick. That power, who gave that to you? Who did you make a deal with?

Macaque : a deal?

Xianglu : ah, it doens't matter.

So that's very interesting. First if Xianglu is to be believed, his powers are not something he's born with but rather something he borrowed. However, Macaque doesn't seem to be aware of any deals whatsover, so either Macaque unknowingly made a deal or he doesn't need to make a deal. I'm more inclined to believe the second option.

First, Xianglu powers are linked to the chaos. And the end of the season confirm that Macaque's powers also stem from the same source with this particular shot :

What lead me to believe that Macaque didn't need to make any deal is because he has been tightly linked to Yin symbolism throughout the whole show.

Indeed, the Yin is linked with darkness, passivity (which was one of Macaque trait in the past, as in he prefered to avoid confrontations), the moon… But the Yin can also be tied to chaos. As such, perhaps Macaque doesn't need to make a deal because chaos is a part of who he is, it is in his nature, and thus he's born with it.

The idea of Macaque being linked to chaos could also explain a personal theory of mine. During the brief flashbacks of Wukong and Macaque fight, that we saw previously in this season, we could clearly hear Macaque laughing manically while Wukong was pleading for him to stop. Macaque sounded unhinged, precisely chaotic, perhaps because his powers, naturally linked to chaos, took over him in that moment.

So this ends Macaque study in season 5. As we saw, this season follows through what have been established in season 4 : Macaque gained the team’s trust but it doesn't mean there is no distance between them. In fact, it is only at the end of season 5 that an attempt at breaching this distance was made.

Macaque and Wukong relationship also greatly evolved from the first seasons. They still fight, but now they try to make a conscious effort of not letting it get messy. Moreover, Wukong actively reach towards Macaque at the end of the season.

As always, this is my interpretation of Macaque character and you are free to disagree, no hate. I do love Macaque so even if I try to be unbiased, I know my appreciation of the show will shine through no matter what I do.

Maybe if season 6 comes out and I am still into LMK, I will do another study of Macaque.

S1 / Previous

[neon-kazoo]

Two steps.

That’s how close Hero was to the door when it slammed shut behind them. They were frozen, staring in shock at the figure resting causally in a high-back chair.

Villain was settled right in the center of the room they had just entered.

The loud thud and the softer click of the lock is what finally snapped Hero out of their statuesque state. Unfortunately, by then, it was far too late to flee. That left ‘fight’ on the list of appropriate reactions to this situation, but Hero’s weapon felt like plastic cutlery in their hand.

Against him, it would never be enough.

They raised it anyway, hands trembling visibly as they pointed it towards the man with one leg crossed over the other.

“I’d drop that, if I were you,” he drawled, drumming his fingers over what appeared to be a remote and flicking his eyes up over the hero’s head.

Slowly, Hero tilted their head back, their gaze reluctantly shifting to the ceiling.

Their weapon slipped from their fingers, clattering to the ground like the toothpick it was.

“Kick it over there, if you wouldn’t mind,” Villain ordered, nodding to one side of the room.

Hero’s foot moved almost robotically and their weapon skittered across the floor.

“Great, now we can talk.”

Villain leaned forward, never taking his hand off that remote, fingers hovering ominously over the buttons.

“Talk,” the hero parroted numbly, standing stiff and swallowing hard.

Right. Because Hero had all their best conversations at laser-point.

A lazy smile spread across the villain’s face.

“Please, take a seat.”

Hero walked stiffly to the only other chair in the room, all-too aware or the whirring of the device in the ceiling that was locked onto their every move. They sat, perching uncomfortably on the edge of a deep cushion.

There was only one thing on their mind, and that was escape.

But there was no way out. Hero had studied the building blueprints long enough to know that this room had only the one exit and no windows. They were trapped deep in the interior of the abandoned science facility and could be killed at the press of a button.

A painful silence spread between them as Villain took in the definitively trapped hero.

“Well,” the villain chatted lightly, “I was beginning to think you’d be late.”

It was fairly hard to be late to something you didn’t know you were walking into, Hero thought—but wisely did not voice.

The villain inclined his head like he was awaiting a response, so the hero gave him one.

“What are you doing here?”

That did not appear to be the response he was looking for.

“Now Hero, is that any way to have a proper conversation?”

Said hero found themselves biting their tongue about the correlation between threat of death and breaking the cooperative principle. Their heart threatened to beat right out of their chest, like the organ itself knew any word they spoke might send them straight to the afterlife.

The villain tsked at the stony glare that was sent his way in lieu of a reply.

“You’re here, so I can pass on some helpful information,” he spoke and added smoothly, “I suggest being grateful.”

“Not to state the obvious here but,” they hesitated for only the briefest of moments before continuing, “why the hell would I believe you?”

“I present you with a gift, Hero. I do not take such a thing lightly,” he stated seriously. If he held any distaste for their choice of language, he held it at bay for the moment.

“And what am I going to do with this ‘information’?” The hero questioned. Confidence that didn’t feel entirely their own compelled them forward as they scoffed, “Take it to my grave? How generous of you.”

“Please. The Ray is purely for personal safety assurances.”

He gestured vaguely to the deathly contraption in the ceiling.

A giant super-powered laser did not seem to Hero like it would be included under the weapons of self defense category, but once again, they kept their mouth shut.

Perhaps their words had already doomed them, but perhaps the Villain had enough grace to ignore a certain number of inappropriate retorts, given the circumstances—fearing for their life and all.

“Right. So…” Hero took a moment to compose themselves before they continued carefully, “what kind of information?”

The villain grinned, showing all his teeth and revealing the maniacal glint in his eyes.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

[mad-hunts]

in response to the other's answer in regards to what jervis would prefer on his toast, jack simply nodded. he'd found himself at a loss for what else to say even though that was actually quite rare for him. maybe it was the idea that barton could be outside at that very moment, listening in, that made jack suddenly feel like a fog had rolled into his mind; making it so that he could protect himself without even knowing for sure that there was a threat in the first place.

barton didn't like talking about julien - he'd pretty much stowed away every single picture but one the family had with him in it, in fact. for it still hurt him too much to look at them. therefore, especially considering his father's history of not being able to regulate his moods well, jack might have to perform 'damage control' if that were the case. but crossing the bridge if he were to get there seemed to apply quite well here. so, the farceur chose to move on and it turned out to be wisely, too.

jervis did look very tense lying there with jack visibly appearing to want to curl up into himself and never come out. after going to the nearby trunk in the room, he opened it. this was done as a means to distract the both of them from succumbing to the weight of their own differing circumstances. though there was certainly a good cover reason for jack to, ❝ oh, wow. ahh... i almost forgot that its supposed to get down into the forties tonight so you might need this. its going to be cold, after all, ❞ it was also hitting sundown at that moment as well.

jack could tell by just looking through the crack in the curtains of the one window in the room. while gnawing on his bottom lip, he pulled out the plush blanket inside of the chest only to shake it out a bit. now, as jack tossed the blanket up just enough to cover jervis's body without touching him? something matilda told him a few years ago echoed in his mind during a conversation they had late at night: 'you know, i know you'd like nothing more than to get rid of all your feelings sometimes - but i hope you never change.'

jack just remembered looking up at the tent he was in that day of camping afterward, as he decided he should probably get to sleep. but it felt validating in a way he couldn't explain as well even now. because jack's first instinct upon seeing jervis was that he was struggling, so he should help him; though one could definitely say that sense of responsibility had made him suffer in the past. thank goodness sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils and exhaling could allow jack to quiet his mind then.

he tilted his head at the other's words and squinting his eyes, deep in thought. of course if jervis didn't believe in one, that was fine, but it appeared like he might. these sorts of concepts could trigger whole debates for a reason, however, as spirituality was something that jack affiliated himself with. but religion? he wasn't so sure, so he more than understood when jervis settled for saying his loved ones being at peace was simply something he wanted to believe in. with jack's sudden exit came the arrival of a much less benevolent figure, to say the least, and barton couldn't say he blamed jervis for seemingly somewhat disappointed that his son left.

jack was easy to get along with, and with just a little bit of time spent with him, he might just win someone over with his compassionate nature. barton knew this well along with the reality he had to learn other people's behaviors throughout the years to appear at least 'semi-normal.' how that was going for the doctor would often depend on who you asked, though. barton could only snort derisively at that, ❝ funny. just remember, you'd be in arkham right now if it weren't for me and my daughter. ❞ he pointed a sharpened nail in the direction of jervis as he proceeded into the room.

the same crack in the curtains jack had once looked through was soon closed with a quick 'swishing' motion. barton was personally raised with a very limited exposure to faith, as neither wesley nor winslow were particularly religious father figures. but barton could admire those who participate in it regardless of their level of involvement in it. though it could be used as a force of evil as much as it could be used for good, a lot of humanity existed in shades of gray.

so even if they were under the treat of suffering through something like eternal damnation after death... in barton's mind, it was only a matter of time before someone used a widespread thing like faith to their own advantage. and maybe this was bad of him but thinking about wesley being in such a place somewhat brought him a sense of twisted satisfaction; because at least barton would be getting a form of justice for every fearful moment wesley put him through that way. barton only blinked as his eyes trailed from jervis's face, to the teacup that jack had presumably brought him.

shockingly enough, all he felt when he discovered that marty's father was a powerful figure was an incredible amount of disbelief for a moment before it fizzled away. barton was used to things getting worse even if he couldn't have seen this coming. plus, he'd gotten frighteningly good at treating human lives like this police captain's more as obstacles than actual beings. it remained to be seen which one jervis was to barton. he squinted his eyes before standing up and ultimately finding out that, yeah, he had done that too quickly.

barton felt like he was green around the gills all over again, ❝ that is one way to put it, jervis. but don't worry. you just reminded me that, although we're going to have to get creative, there are ways of getting away with it. i'd say pinning his murder on someone else might be the best. ❞ he uttered after swallowing thickly, making a 'turn around' gesture with his finger towards the other. barton talking about murder as if it was light dinner conversation said everything that needed to be said about how he felt about their current predicament.

maybe it was because he was still feeling a lot of malaise, but no part of it bothered him in particular. the doctor was more worried about jervis becoming queasy because he accidentally saw the scars where he'd stitched on yves's arm to his own body, ❝ uhh, just in case you didn't get that, turn around. i'm going to change my shirt. ❞ once that was done, barton slipped his current bloodied one over his head only to replace it with the other. he slumped down in the chair to the table opposite of jervis and looked over the tarot cards laid out before him.

barton, too, knew how to interpret them. ❝ what were you two planning on doing with these? a 'past, present, and future' reading? because i can do it while my son's gone for you. ❞

Jervis gave the barest of shrugs as he glanced at Jack through his bangs, the quiet rhythm of their breathing, the slow drip of the IV, and the faint shifting of the cards against the tabletop the only sounds piercing the air. "Either one sounds perfectly agreeable. I defer to your good judgment." A ghost of a smile, pale and wan, tugged at his mouth for an infinitesimal moment.

Call it the lingering pangs of paternal instinct or projection, whatever you felt was most appropriate, but some flicker of warmth—worry mingling with concern—stirred within Jervis' breast; softening the veneer of exhaustion and discomfort that clothed him like a second skin. Like an invisible cancer that had latched onto him, draining his vitality—a slow-acting poison decades in the making; only this time, the source was external, a reflection of Jack's own unease radiating across the space between them.

Jervis drew in a shallow breath, feeling the tightness in his chest not as his own, but as if their nerves had blurred and grown entangled. He tried to focus, willing his own breath to steady, his hands to unclench. A low chuckle escaped Jervis' chapped lips at Jack's query. The medications in his IV coursed through him, cold and prickling, sending a frisson over his skin as goosebumps rose in response. And yet, somehow, it eased the deep ache within him, dulling the edges of both pain and nausea. He could feel the weight of his discomfort receding, just slightly, as though the medicine were smoothing his raw nerves; coaxing him toward a delicate, unfamiliar calm.

Not quite like ketamine.... not like the cozy, blithesome feeling that coursed through his veins with each dose. Even when most of his prior consumption of the drug hadn't been consensual—thick enough to cut his teeth on, it ensured small pockets of blissful ignorance hardening into a dissociative shell, like callus. (God bless those poor, ministering angels at Arkham... only a trace of spite and animosity there, rage bleeding with sorrow at how his autonomy and consent was completely ignored, snatched... one wrong move, and he was left cowering in a crumpled heap, or otherwise dead to the world... but now? Would the scales be tipped, if they managed to drag him back there? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer.) If Odysseus and his crew had been desperate to escape the Lotus Eaters only to stumble unwittingly into the clutches of Polyphemus, Jervis felt quite the opposite.

For better or worse, the ketamine had left him numb to everything.

The pain, the grief, the anguish that tore gouges in his heart and mind; lacerated his psyche to shreds, in conjunction with the ECT. Somehow, he compartmentalized it... gravitated to the cannabis as an alternative upon his discharge, once he'd regained his center of gravity and emerged from his self-immurement; the fractures left by his losses and lessons grinding him to the bone. Everything it cost him and what he'd earned in exchange. Simon. Arabella. His time in Ireland. Sylvie. The flood. Alice.

The lengths he had gone...

And so Jervis chuckled; the sound dry and hollow, barely touching his eyes. He met Jack’s gaze, his expression tightening as he mulled over the question, tasting the irony in it.

“An afterlife…” he murmured, his eyes drifting. Thoughts and memories broke the surface like apples bobbing in a bucket: Simon and Stephen putting aside their differences over the blessing at Passover; his and Arabella's quiet, but spirited discussions of Heaven and the saints and catechism, the differences between the Old and New Testaments as they strolled along the shoreline. Stories of the witch trials in Ireland, of John Calvin and his legacy in Scotland.

All the old beliefs he’d grown up with circled back and hit like a tidal wave, tied as much to memories of family as to the concept of religious faith itself, all its beauty and diverse forms, yet it left him feeling frigid now. For a little over three decades, he'd told himself that he could appreciate the mythology of it all, even found it strangely comforting at times, but belief? That had always been a different thing entirely.

Jervis' mind tugged him back to reality. He could sense Jack’s curiosity pressing at the edge of his own awareness, a secondary presence so strong it was almost rendered a physical form. "That's.... a complicated notion, from where I'm standing.” He let out a slow, careful breath; curled his fingers back around his necklace as he dissected the question. “But... yes. I'd like to think our loved ones are at peace."

He could map it all in a dozen lines, right down to his own lived experiences, the rules he tried so hard to follow, the ideals that always seemed to warp and fray. There was karma, consequence, perhaps even the lingering shadows of what people might call a curse. But the idea of any higher being calling the shots? It gnawed at him like an old wound. And so Jervis looked back at Jack, almost apologetic, the faint sting of an old ache flickering beneath his words.

He was spared from elaborating with Barton's sudden appearance; lurking on the threshold like a wraith. Poor Jack's confidence and ease withered like a hapless petunia caught in the dead of winter. A few quiet words of dismissal and a pat to the shoulder were all that heralded the reluctant, leery departure of his one potential ally in the wolf's den.

'As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.' Jervis sighed, slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, looked Barton in the eye; as well as he could, anyway, with the lingering gray spots and his missing glasses still impeding his line of sight. “Maybe we each make our own heaven—or our own hell.”

Perhaps that was petty or harsh of him to say out loud... though that was the truth of the matter. Jervis didn’t need religious belief to drive him, after all; he needed only his own peculiar code, that precarious balance between curiosity and cynicism, and the sense of duty he still felt for a daughter who had deserved something far more stable, more secure; safer than the patchwork life he had known. Whatever his flaws, his faults, some small part of him still respected the right to believe—what faith meant to others; its power to inspire, to build, to destroy. The cause and effect of human history, the double-edged promises of faith. And maybe that was the root of it: faith could be a tool, a guide, a balm.

But then the stark, often bitter truths he’d learned through survival would come rushing back. Besides, he reckoned, Barton likely wouldn't give a damn about any of his prior train of thought. In any case, on the topic of hell, Jervis never pictured the vast, cavernous expanse of fire and brimstone that Jonathan Edwards had once preached about in the summer of 1741. No. Hell always conjured up fevered images of a frozen lake in the deepest, darkest part of the center of the earth, untouched by light and warmth and life—the last of Dante Alighieri's nine circles.

'I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.'

He was torn from the thick mire of his thoughts, yanked back outside his mind as if caught in a sudden hurricane at Barton’s next revelation. Jervis shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then reached for the cup of tea Jack had brought him. The liquid within was a warm, golden amber—like sea glass he’d once collected as a child in Bermuda, or the bits Alice would gather along Gotham’s coastline on their rare visits when she was little.

How simple those days were...

"Well." Jervis' voice was completely flat, his brow creasing with incredulity and disgust. Barton’s outline weaved and blurred before his eyes like a will-o’-the-wisp. No more, no more… no room, no room. He felt completely hollow. "Trading one problem for another, are we?" His scarred knuckles bulged as his fingers curled around the delicate porcelain; his grip hard enough to produce a faint, foreboding crack.

He would weep, if he had anymore tears left to shed over their predicament. For Marty and his partner, for the trouble Jack and Matilda had been brought into by association… but none for himself or Barton. He wasn’t certain he was worthy of it; and Barton had no qualms over their actions, he’d freely admitted it at that bistro earlier. Jervis’ hands tingled, as if they were still covered by the bloodied gloves he wore when he dispatched the driver in order to retrieve Alice’s rabbit, wielding his hatpins on pure impulse; there was no premeditation involved, but there was no discounting how surgical his actions had been in their efficacy with each targeted nerve cluster and artery. He wasn’t indulging in self-pity, oh no… nothing so shallow or solipsistic. Not like that at all. Just a pure ant mill of growing dread and horror and regret, one that couldn’t be encompassed by words alone.

His teeth sought the gouges in the corner of his mouth from where he’d previously bit himself in the throes of his nightmares, worrying at the cuts till they began to sting anew.

‘Despair has its own calms.’

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Today on PCE Reads Winter Butterfly Again (spoilers if yaint read it) :

We know I’m a huge Style Girlie, and I’ve said before that this fic is the one that introduced me to Cryle as a ship. And I love both this Kyle and this Craig, but the destruction of long term relationships in this story is HEARTBREAKING!!! The nuance of Creek (Tweek’s character in general holy shit), the crumbling of Style and the broken trust that they try to make work after the fact, just GOD!!!

I love the slow wedge jwink drives between Stan and Kyle. The sweetness of their relationship beginning to unravel due to lost faith in each other, secrets, the emotional turmoil, the GUILT?!?

Kyle in the beginning of this story really spoke to me too. I stumbled across this fic for the first time when I was extremely depressed, never leaving my apartment, and throughout the past couple months of that phase of my life I’ve read it multiple times, seen myself in him. His melancholy throughout is so tangible dude, like I know I read a SHIT TON and this remains one of my favorite sp fics, even though my favorite pairing isn’t endgame lol

Yeah I’m a chronic rereader what else is new

[sluckythewizard]

FIIIINALLY almost nailed my designs for lizzie and caspian can i get a HEEEELLL YEAAH???? i think these two make a vvery cute duo and i cannt wait to see them again. i also hope they both get hurt reaaaallly really badly. togeter

[artinandwritin]

A sketchbook Siri and Nivvie!!! Like mom like son fr fr

[deadzonedenizen]

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN

RAMBLING ABOUT OCS: GIBBY EDITION

BASIC CONCEPT IDEA:

Before we start with the rambling, we first need to start with the JTTW character she is based on.

According to this article, there are four monkeys of havoc, Wukong and Macaque making up half of them. Horse Monkey will be a ramble for another time. Right now, we're putting our focus on the gibbon.

Lots of space-themes going on with this little guy. When I first read this bit, you know the first character that came into mind?

Now you know the reason behind Gibby's Halloween costume. So anyways, that collector inspiration already gave me a basic idea of what I wanted Gibby to be as a character. Bouncy little kid that has too much power for her own good.

Other inspirations for her character include Mebh from Wolfwalkers, Young Eda from The Owl House, Spinel from Steven Universe, and later on Kingsley from Yaelokre. The first two especially influenced Gibby's hair design, the third tracks with her ability to stretch her arms, and the last with a good chunk of her personality.

DESIGN:

Probably the first thing you'd notice from Gibby design-wise is her giant hair. I've decided to give her that hair to give her a sort of silhouette that resembles a shooting star. With Gibby herself, she is two lego heads tall. I mean- gibbons are already teeny, and especially the young by default, so of course Gibby's gonna be fun-sized.

With her color palette, I chose colors from the more pastel-y side to emphasize that childlike wonder that's basically associated with her. Fun fact, her hair is a reference to how she was born ;)

Her clothes, I wanted it to look like something you'd find a FFM monkey demon wearing, while still referencing Gibby's former job as the Jade Court's jester by adding what's basically a faded version of the Celestial Realm's signature turquoise and gold, and putting jester-like design bits like the little bells and mismatched colors. I also want the outfit to look like something she made herself.

NOTES FURTHER INTO DEVELOPMENT:

I can't really say too much without spoiling some bits of Ship In A Bottle, so I'll try to avoid anything that borders too close to that. Instead, I'll list each of the details from the JTTW Gibbon's description + how it's applied to Gibby.

'Seize the sun and moon'

Okay, so she can't literally manipulate celestial bodies all over the place. Instead, it's reflected on her flutes. Yes, Bell's flutes are actually hers, and are just meant to serve as Bell's training wheels with his powers. The flutes have a second form that resembles sunwheels (Though it would be appropriate to call the moon flute's wheel form a moonwheel).

Usually only one flute can be used in this form at a time. Which of the flutes can be used in its wheel form depends on whether it's day and night (moonwheel only for night, sunwheel only for day). The only time both can be used in their wheel forms is during an eclipse, or if the flutes are being used by two people. (Something I need to update in Ship In A Bottle 💀)

I haven't designed the wheel forms yet, but the sunwheel has its rays more emphasized, and the moonwheel's appearance depends on the moon's current phase. The sunwheel also resembles a suncatcher, while the moonwheel resembles a dreamcatcher with magpie feathers (for Ship In A Bottle readers, no you can't make oaths with them).

'Shorten a thousand mountains'

Ooooohhh boy, this is one of the more spoilery bits. All I need to say is...there was a reason they had to trap Gibby in the calabash. Gibby's abilities that aren't mentioned anywhere else here fall under this category. That's how you know these are her more...unstable abilities. Thankfully she'd need a good supply of power to source the energy needed for all of that. Otherwise it'd be really...disastrous. An ability I can safely mention without spoilers tho, is her ability to...literally shorten mountains. And by that, I mean cause chunks of land to break off from the ground and remain floating in air. A lot of floating islands can be contributed to her.

'Distinguish the auspicious from the inauspicious'

Or in Gibby terms, her gut feelings. AKA her intuition. There is a small legend about her, where if she appears in your dreams, it's a sign of that dream possibly foretelling a future event. So she's basically an omen, good or bad depending on the dream. Being a dream-hopper, she tends to be more attracted to dreams that likelier to be a sign about the future.

Another small legend basically makes her a wishing star-like figure. If you wish upon a star, you're inviting Gibby to visit your dream (dream, as in your wish in this context).

In the waking world, her gut feelings are a bit weaker. Simply put, the closer that specific event is to happening, the stronger her gut feeling is. For an event that could happen maybe a year into the future, Gibby would only get a slight gut feeling that she could easily just wave off. For an event that's a second from happening, Gibby gets literal vision flashes before they actually happen. This makes her a really good dodger, making her difficult to attack.

'Manipulate planets and stars'

Again she can't just play pinball with celestial bodies whenever she wanted (and believe me, she does). The planet bit is less referenced compared to the star bit (for a reason involving another oc).

Reading this far into my rambling, you already see a lot of star motifs with Gibby. Well another is her ability to manipulate stardust, which can put people to sleep if she's not careful. She generates stardust using her flutes, and the stardust is how she makes clones of herself, and even other people. The stardust can act like pixie dust too. Sprinkle a bit of it on something, and that's how you make that something float (remember the floating islands?). Yes, she can manipulate normal sand too.

Stars and other celestial bodies also make up a good chunk of how she can tell if her gut feelings are a false alarm or not, since the position of celestial bodies can predict someone's d*stiny in Chinese astrology.

Gibby as a celestial primate

Whereas Wukong is the sun and Macaque is the moon, Gibby is the stars. Whereas Wukong is the hero and Macaque is the warrior, Gibby is the jester. I like to think that there's this sort of duality when it comes to pairs of celestial primates.

Wukong represents the unchanging sun, and the fact that it never stops shining. You just can't help but notice him, but even dare to make eye contact, and you might mark yourself as an enemy.

Macaque represents the ever-changing moon, its different phases reflecting in how Macaque is better able to adjust to different situations. You don't always notice him. Sometimes he shines brightly with a dramatic display, and sometimes he's blended with the shadows of the night.

Gibby represents the playful stars. Her head is in the clouds and she's almost always literally floating. She embodies the whimsies of childhood, the curiosity of youth, and the world through the lens of a child.

So you already have a bit of a hint about down-to-earth Mandrill's character, hint hint nudge nudge ;)

Chat I wanna ramble about another oc who's name isn't Bell. Question tho, which one would you guys be interested in?

[fangwebs]

just as a reminder: my portrayal is canon-divergent and headcanon-laden. it's a combination of the comics and from ATSV. don't get me wrong, the recent adaptation has reignited my passion for the comics (I've been an avid fan as a kid ever since the original run from 1992-1994 and the subsequent volumes in the 2010s) -- but I love the new design and characterization they've given Miguel as of recent.

[ramyeonguksu]

More Hullevi! So for them I got 3, 12, 15, 19?

3: What about public displays of affection? Are they open about their relationship or do they prefer not to be? How many people know about it?

For the early parts of their relationship, Hubert and Hillevi are very secretive about their relationship. They do it mostly out of safety reasons because TWSITD has a horrible habit of bodysnatching and even if they're gone there's a chance that whoever really hates Edelgard and Hubert would do SOMETHING to the people they care about (something something hostage situations). Long answer short there's no PDA but Dorothea knows because She Can Tell, Edelgard knows only because she either forced Hubert to tell her or Dorothea gossiped to her, and Ferdinand knows only because Dorothea gossiped to him LMAO

I have a personal headcanon about Lysithea being grumpy about their relationship based on an RP I've had with a friend lmao (she thinks Hillevi deserves better than Hubert and feels like her being in a relationship would take her attention away from her (I headcanon Lysithea and Hillevi having a sisterly dynamic but it's based on RPs I've had))

Maybe down the years when Hubert and Hillevi settled down in a cottage in the countryside and people visit they'd be more open about their relationship but still PDA really isn't their thing in general

12: Do they ever want to have children, or do they prefer not to?

Hillevi is DEFINITELY frightened about having children mostly because she's worried she'll project how she was raised by her father onto her child, and Hubert would definitely worry about whether he'd be a good father or not (the man literally doubts that he would even be a good husband in his S Support with Byleth). I think if Hubert does have a child however he would at least not really force the Vestra lifestyle onto him and he would leave it to his child to decide whether they want to or not

BUT THEY STILL HAVE A KID ANYWAY BECAUSE I WANTED TO DESIGN ONE LMAO (Old drawings from years ago). His name is Raymond (Ray for short) and he is A Little Shit!

15: What kinds of holidays do they like to celebrate together?

Hubert pretends not to care about holidays but he would definitely plan something to make Hillevi happy because SHE FUCKING LOVE FESTIVALS BECAUSE FOOD!!! But they definitely wouldn't go out in the open and dance often if that makes sense (like I said above they're pretty reserved about their relationship)

On the holidays that involve gift-giving though you can bet they're at least giving each other something.

Both of them honestly give no shits about the Saints' birthdays though shdjkf

19: What kinds of quirks do they have that their partner likes?

I think Hubert would see a bit of Edelgard in Hillevi because of her stubbornness and would definitely appreciate that despite everything she's gone through Hillevi still insists on being her genuine self no matter how difficult it may be for her. In his eyes she's also annoyingly endearing lmao

Hillevi loves being able to banter with someone and Hubert is one of the best people for that. Even if she is the butt of his snide comments sometimes she really appreciates that she could have that kind of dialogue with him anyway. Keeps her mind and cynicism in check.

[fragmentedblade]

I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan

[muu-kun]

Speaking of fashion, I will eventually have the appropriate amount of time to dedicate myself to a proper attire headcanon post. For now, I only have examples for silhouettes pertaining to dresses gathered. Which at this point can ultimately be narrowed down in explanation as Muu holding preference for a bodice that does not require even just a modest breast size.

Although he does wear bralettes (which is not out of gender dysphoria or euphoria on any account actually. Instead, it is more so like a running joke with himself at this point due to the fact he's actually had an infatuation with wearing them since he was a sixteen year old boy that found a bra lying in the street) he doesn't do so with the intent of applying padding to them-- especially when considering the fact he has some minor gynaecomastia due to stubbornly persistent baby fat going on. He can deal with those, but he definitely doesn't want to even so much as imply he has "real breasts."

He also isn't one to gravitate towards those built around the necessity for breasts due to the fact that he does not wish for the attire adorning his body to appear as though something (or somethings) is missing. Which is also the given reason why even in his decision to wear what is considered women's underwear underneath the dresses similar to above, he does not engage in the act of tucking. Yes, that does come within treacherous territory per the fact that he is then advertising himself as a flamboyantly youthful individual with an occasionally visible (and not incredibly well endowed, mind you) genitalia outline in his attire. That's not even to mention the detectability of his disabilities on establishing conversation with him.

Beyond that, he's not too partial to much else. Length and material is otherwise irrelevant as long as he can freely move within it to accommodate an in-between active and sedentary lifestyle. He would also best appreciate those that are not overwhelming to the senses in one manner or another-- this includes itchiness, heaviness, lack of breathability, and so on. Textures usually aren't too worrisome to him, however, as he has been raiding the closet of his female friends (such as Hannah of @kannojo predominantly) for years, so by now he knows what he does and doesn't like with enough ease that even unexpectedly finding something is unappealing to him van be easily remedied without any fit.

The bottom line with all of this is while Muu strictly wears what is primarily marketed as women's clothing, he does not do so out of the desire to be a woman. In fact, he's asked that question within himself many times only to come up with the same conclusion each time: He is simply an aged up boy caught up in having to navigate too many things at once, therefore eccentricities intended to lighten his load have transpired. Being that 99% of abusers have been men throughout the years, and women his sanctuary from them, it became sensible at some point for him to cease one struggle for favor of mirroring his safety while he sources through another. Muu has no idea even how to be a person yet, let alone a gendered one.

That is also not to say he wishes to abolish entirely in favor of utilizing they/them pronouns. In fact, it still remains quite the opposite. At this time in his life, he's not looking to be othered more than he always has acquired for himself. Being gridlocked into a perpetual state of regression in his present has been isolating enough as is that he doesn't wish for more beyond that. It also has intriguingly been almost beneficial in keeping some of his identity centered, though, as being so interwoven with his inner teen provides connection with the perspective of character held back then.

When he was sixteen, he was very self assured in nearly all aspects in life until led to second guessing the bulk of them. Of those is one of which where he was well adamant that he was a boy with a preference for he/him pronouns to demonstrate that. And while he's been able to find appreciation for femininity that he'd have otherwise mocked in his youth, that is as far as it goes for the time being. Working beyond the semantics of that just isn't on the table at this time in his life.

Where he might go with it during Pride Month is still up to him, but, really, his focus is far more centered on fulfilling and answering other aspects of his person at this time. Generalized comfort and safety are of the utmost importance to his emotionally led manner of living. Once that is established, whether or not he opts for reintroducing what is considered men's attire back into his wardrobe is completely up in the air.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Masterpost

“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”

“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.

It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.

It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.

Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.

At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.

(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)

But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.

The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)

On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)

Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)

Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.

Part one

[adispit]

A Second Life

god x m! priest reader

Summary: Transmigrated into a new world with seemingly new beginnings, a strange god takes an interest in you.

Content warnings: very dark, non consensual touching and watching, dubcon (reader submits but isn’t really having a great time), barely any foreplay (very unrealistic), penetrative anal sex, belly bulge, size difference, overstimulation (?) if you squint, religious themes

note: Like half way through I realised the plot went off the rails but it was too late because I had already deleted a draft before this 😭 and I was gonna give up at that point so I don’t really like this 😞 but either wise, hope you enjoy and sorry for the wait!!

At first, you were thoroughly dismayed when you discovered you had been transmigrated into the world of the novel, Tyrant’s Intense Love. The night before, you had been engrossed in the romance novel that revolved around the familiar trope of a female and male lead overcoming numerous trials before finally falling in love. Unfortunately for you, you had transmigrated into a minor background character—one who was entirely inconsequential and had not appeared in a single chapter of the story. You inhabited the body of a priest devoted to Kallos, the god of light who presided over the continent. As part of the temple’s ranks, you were one of the numerous lowly priests responsible for prayer, fasting, and delivering sermons. Your duties were equally modest; you were tasked with dusting and maintaining the cleanliness of the temple. Before your transmigration, your life had been equally mundane. You were a corporate office worker who relied on far too many beers to handle the endless stream of projects your coworkers offloaded onto you. Enduring sleepless nights and relentless deadlines, your personal life was just as bleak and unfulfilling. The sole solace you found was in reading novels that transported you to fantastical romances you longed to experience.

With the simple goal of finding your true soulmate in this new life, you fervently declared your intent, only to quickly discover that such aspirations were impossible. As a priest of the Light Temple, you were required to maintain your chastity to demonstrate the purity of your devotion to the god of light. This seemed utterly absurd. After all, the renowned saintess from the novel had countless secret night rendezvous with the male lead, the crown prince, long before their relationship became official. It felt profoundly unjust and even scandalous, to say the least…. You couldn’t leave either as a priest of age in the temple, you weren’t allowed to leave. That was several years ago, back when you first transmigrated. You’ve somewhat come to terms with your fate and reality. Being a lowly priest isn’t so bad, after all. Despite the modest nature of your role and the boring nature of your duties, you have a roof over your head and food to eat, all provided by the temple. You weren’t one to complain. Given your timid and meek disposition, this role suited you well. There were no coworkers to harass or manipulate with office politics, and the absence of a demanding family was a relief. The life you led here wasn’t so bad. The body you had inhabited had belonged to an orphan adopted by the temple at a young age, and your name, like his, was (Name).

Kallos had grown weary of ruling over this world through countless cycles. Each millennium seemed as vexing as the last, with his creations remaining nothing more than soulless puppets, trapped in their predetermined fates. His sanity deteriorated further with each passing decade. Yet, something peculiar marked this cycle. He had observed a disturbance—a single priest possessed by a soul that clearly did not belong to this world. Though he could not pinpoint when he began to scrutinize you through his bronze mirror in the heavens, it had become a daily ritual for him to watch you. You were the lone human who exhibited a spark of life and vitality in this dull and monotonous world. It was so interesting to him, how a mere and fragile human, like you who exhibited little to no threat in the face of his divinity, had somewhat been a variable out of his control. A soul that wasn’t part of this world. As his sanity had been worn down through out centuries, what had been left was a sick obsession and interest in you as he saw you as a precious treasure, no, a plaything he had to have. He was a patient god, as given by his endurance through ages of rule. He would bide his time and wait to claim you.

Yes, he was patient, but he was also greedy. After a few years of watching you through the bronze mirror he once used to gaze upon the mortals, he felt he had waited long enough. With a sinister grin spreading across his face, he set his plans into motion.

Ironically, you never really had any faith in the god of light, Kallos, despite the fact that you were a priest, having to worship him. It was probably due to the fact you were from another world. You also didn’t have any of the light mana that priests and saints had, it was an ethereal power bestowed upon them as they entered the temple and led lives devoted to the god. Instead, your duties remained simple: cleaning the temple, dusting ancient artifacts, and tending to the garden, not that you didn’t like it. Not to mention, recently, you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that someone was constantly watching you, even though you were alone. You had brought this concern to your fellow priests, but their response was dismissive, insisting that no one would dare prey upon one of Kallos' children. Despite their reassurances, the sense of being observed persisted. However, your worries were the least of your concerns as you were selected to be one of the brides of Kallos in the temple. This unorthodox ritual never happened in the novel before and you had no idea how this happened. Hadn’t the novel gone a little off the rails? When you had questioned the elders why, they had replied with a harsh snap that you had been idling far too long in the temple and it was time to partake in your duties properly which just confused you further.

Now, you found yourself seated while Eli, one of the oracles, fussed with your hair. Having been in this world for some time, you had made a few friends, and Eli was among them. Despite her blindness, she was gifted with the ability to see the future, a paradoxical blessing given her condition. Eli was like a mother figure to you, often chiding you for overexerting yourself while working in the garden. Your workaholic tendencies had landed you in her clinic more times than you could count, and her concern for your well-being was a constant, caring presence in your life. Despite her typically vibrant and exuberant demeanor, she was unusually subdued today. In an attempt to lift her spirits, you said with a light-hearted tone, “Eli, it’s not like Kallos is going to choose someone like me—a humble priest who’s constantly laboring in the simple garden among all the stunning contenders. I mean, I’ve heard he has a penchant for…” Your voice faltered as the conversation grew uncomfortable, and you looked down, trailing off. Instead of her usual witty retort or playful response, she gazed blankly ahead with her pale, milky eyes.

Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over her. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her hands making your strands of untouched hair fall against your back, and spoke urgently, “(Name), listen to me! You’re in imminent dan—mmphm!!” Her words were abruptly cut off as if her mouth had been sealed. A bell rang, signaling the brides selected to enter the cathedral for the ritual. A servant firmly took your arm and guided you away from Eli, who sat silently, tears streaming down her face as she listlessly stared into space. As you were led down the grand corridor, the distant echoes of the bell grew fainter. The solemnity of the cathedral loomed ahead, its familiar grandeur both awe-inspiring and intimidating. You glanced back one last time, catching a fleeting glimpse of Eli's tear-streaked face and her desolate expression. The servant’s grip on your arm tightened, making it clear there was no turning back.

Entering the cathedral, you were greeted by the hushed whispers of the assembled crowd and the flickering light of countless candles. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation and formality. The brides, dressed in their opulent gowns, stood in a stately line, their faces a mixture of nervousness and resolve. You were dressed in a simple garb—a modest robe that seemed almost out of place amidst the grandeur. As you took your place among them, your thoughts were a whirl of confusion and dread. The urgency in Eli's voice and her silent plea echoed in your mind, making it hard to focus on the ceremony ahead.

As the final bell tolled, the grand doors of the cathedral swung closed, signaling the start of the ritual. The priests and priestesses, draped in elaborate garments, assumed their positions at the altar with precision and reverence. A solemn chant began, its rhythmic, hypnotic cadence filling the air.

You, along with the other brides, were directed to kneel before the altar. The heavy scent of incense mingled with the cool, echoing silence of the cathedral, creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The low, resonant hum of the priests’ chants, punctuated by the bishop’s otherworldly murmurs, enveloped the space.

A sudden, blinding light illuminated you, casting your figure in stark relief against the darkness. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the light intensified. Then, a loud, resonant voice cut through the reverent murmur: “I have chosen my bride.”

Shock overwhelmed you as a single thought raced through your mind: “Why!?” Yet, there was no time for questions as a surge of energy enveloped you. The grandeur of the cathedral began to dissolve, and the very fabric of reality shimmered and blurred. The chanting and murmurs of the crowd faded into a distant echo, replaced by a profound, ethereal silence. A radiant light, more brilliant than anything you had ever seen, surrounded you. The sensation was both soothing and overwhelming as if you were being lifted from the earth. The cathedral’s walls, the solemnity, and the weight of the ritual vanished, and you felt yourself ascending through a luminous expanse.

In an instant, you found yourself in a realm of breathtaking beauty. The sky above was a cascade of colors, shifting gently like a cosmic aurora. The air was filled with a sweet, harmonious melody, and the very ground beneath you seemed to sparkle with celestial light. The landscape was serene and otherworldly, with ethereal gardens and radiant structures floating in a tranquil sea of light.

Although beautiful, the celestial landscape seemed to radiate a certain sense of coldness and loneliness. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” a rich, magnetic voice remarked from behind you. Whipping around, you found yourself facing a man bathed in radiant light. His flowing white hair cascaded to his ankles, and his crimson eyes seemed to pierce right through you, exuding an intense, mesmerizing gaze. You had to admit that he was incredibly attractive, radiating an otherworldly charm and a palpable sense of power that left a profound impression on you. “Kallos?” you asked meekly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. (Name), my beloved bride. I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time, my dearest. Come, follow me into my humble abode.” He smiled with a captivating amusement, his lips curving into a knowing and irresistibly charming expression as he beckoned you to follow him. His intimate address was slightly intimidating, but you brushed off the feeling and stepped obediently behind him.

As you followed him, the grandeur of the palace unfolded before you. The corridors were lined with walls that shimmered with soft, golden light, and the air was filled with a gentle, harmonious melody that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the space.

Kallos led you through halls adorned with intricate, glowing patterns and serene, floating tapestries.

He guided you to a magnificent chamber, its design both luxurious and inviting. The room was bathed in a warm glow, with furnishings that seemed to float effortlessly in the air, their delicate forms illuminated by a soft, radiant light.

As you entered, Kallos turned to you, his gaze filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “This is where we will be,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst the splendor. “You must be hungry. Here, have a fruit.” Kallos extended a golden fruit towards you, its surface shimmering with a warm, radiant glow.

With your guard down, you bit into the fruit, its juices dripping down your chin as the sweetness burst in your mouth. Offering Kallos a shy smile, you quietly murmured your thanks.

A dark, gleaming look of delight flickered in his crimson eyes as he reached out, his touch both tender and assertive. His hand caressed your thigh before gripping it firmly, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of intensity and satisfaction. “(Name), you’re finally mine. I’ve waited too long.” His voice, now laced with a chilling intensity, contrasted sharply with his former gentleness. A dark, sinister smile played across his lips, revealing a side of him that was both unsettling and menacing.

Your eyes widened in terror as the reality of the danger you were in sank in, but it was too late. With inhumane strength, he held you firmly, his grip unyielding as he continued, his eyes burning with an ominous, predatory gleam. “I’ve watched over you for so long. Watching you sleep, how could you taunt me so when you didn’t wear shorts? I simply had to have a taste.” A sly smirk appeared on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of amusement as you flushed with red-hot embarrassment. The realization hit you with a jolt: those times you woke up with hand-shaped bruises all over your body had been his doing, and that unsettling feeling of being watched—he was behind it all.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, his voice dripping with malicious delight, “Did you enjoy my mark of ownership? And you’re simply adorable when you jump whenever I peer at you through the bronze mirror.” You sank into the mattress, cold dread gripping your heart. “W-what do you even want from me?” you managed to ask, summoning a burst of courage to meet his gaze. He laughed loudly at your response, the sound echoing with a mix of obsession and insanity. The light god, once revered by many for his kindness and generosity, now stood before you with an unsettling, unfettered look of infatuation. What he said next delivered the final blow. “I know you’re from another world. It both fascinates and frustrates me that someone like you, a mere mortal, is beyond my complete control. I simply had to have you. And now, you’re finally mine.” He gently cupped your face, his touch a jarring contrast to the harshness of his words. The shock of the situation settled in. You were paralyzed with the realization that there was no escape from a god’s grasp. The weight of his words and the power behind them left you feeling trapped and helpless, unable to flee from the divine being before you.

“What you ate,” Kallos said, his voice smooth and triumphant, “was no ordinary fruit. It binds you to this realm, a gift with a binding essence. With each bite, you became entwined with the very fabric of this heaven.”

He gently cupped your face, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “You cannot leave now. You are part of this world, as I intended. You’re mine, completely and irrevocably.” Overwhelmed by his words and the inescapable reality of your situation, you felt a profound sense of resignation wash over you. He was a god and you were a mere mortal. You saw no way out and accepted the unyielding truth of your confinement. You simply nodded, your shoulders slumping in defeat, as you gave up the struggle.

“As husband and wife, we must consummate our love.” Pushing you against your back, he pecked your cheek with barely disguised enthusiasm before hungrily tearing at your clothes. His hands tracing down your body to find your soft cock lying against your stomach. “You’re so…small.” The marvel in his tone as he fondled your dick stung at you as you protested with a small offended squeak. You trembled as his hand wrapped around your length. The size difference was nearly alarming, engulfing you completely. You gasped as the hand moved. His hand moved up and down, teasingly light as the sensations were although unfamiliar, felt too little, but enough to rile you up. Shame welled up in you as you internally willed yourself that it shouldn’t feel good.

No. No. No. No. It shouldn’t have felt good…but it did.

Your hips involuntarily thrusted into his warm grasp. “Does it feel good?” An arm wrapped around your stomach, pinning you to the god. “I-I don’t know!” You whimpered, hands clawing at the sheets as you felt your knees give out. Mischievously, he swiped his thumb over your leaking tip as you twitched at the sudden stimulation before coming with a force harder than you had ever experienced. A foreign finger eased into you as another followed immediately. You felt yourself stretched wide and shuddering from below, a throbbing burn filling your insides. “Please! Have mercy!” You pleaded, shivering with a pathetic cry.

Kallos released you and slowly crept up your body. “You want me to show you mercy?�� He asked with a smug expression plastered on his face. “Y-Yes.” You felt warm tears slip down your cheeks as you trembled in his grasp. “How can I show you mercy when you call out so sweetly for me?” He grunted, roughly gripping your legs apart as he towered before you. A blunt object pressed against your hole, bigger than his fingers, monstrous compared to your own cock. “Stop!”

“No.” Kallos replied resolutely, his hands both pinning your hands over your head. “I-it’s too big…” You stuttered weakly. “Don’t be silly, (Name). It’s not big.” Kallos peered down at you like a man possessed with hunger. “Y-you can’t-“

“I can. And I will.” The god rammed into you harshly, any of his former reservation and gentleness gone.

Throwing your head back, you soundlessly wheezed. You couldn’t breathe. It was too fast. You were too full. He pulled back his hips slightly before slamming his hips into you again. Kallos groaned, eyes shutting close. “So tight.” Your warm walls hugged his cock, squeezing and twitching as he continuously brushed against your prostrate. Keening, euphoria overtook you again as you stained your abdomen white. You sobbed, delirious as Kallos relentlessly delivered brutal thrusts with your cries echoing in the chamber. Your whole body rocked forward with the force of Kallos’ thrusts. Letting go of your arms, he gingerly shared a clumsy kiss with you, hot tongue entwining with yours. The kiss felt more like a bite consuming you, teeth knocking together as he ruthlessly bit at your lip. ‘Mhn..’ You whimpered, legs trembling when they were spread by Kallos’s muscular thighs.

The god seemed to be in a similarly pleasurable daze as he pointedly drilled into you, letting out a determined grunt as if his goal was fitting the entirety of his girth inside you.

Obscene squelches of his cock repeatedly driving into you was accompanied by the fervent slaps of skin against skin. Scrambling for anything to ground you, a pillow you tried to grab on was thrown randomly somewhere far in the room with a displeased tut. With nothing to ground you, you mewled as you found yourself limply holding on to the body that was pounding away at you. Any scratch or plea for him to stop only spurred Kallos on more, encouraging him further. The perpetual state of bliss had you growing taut, cum leaking out of your cock in pitiful drops. Your orgasm had him following after, Kallos plunging in so deep you swore you could feel him up in your stomach. Clamping up on the inhumane dick that was filling you up with hot seed, you stiffened as you were pulled into another filthy kiss that had you gasping for air.

“We’re not done, sweetheart.” Kallos exclaimed as he sat up, making sure his dick was buried in you as deep as possible, his hips opposite yours. Glancing down the obscene sight, your stomach which was slightly distended from the bulge that was his dick in you, waist littered with bruises from how hard he gripped onto you. You felt intense exhaustion wash over you as he began to rock his hips into yours again, despite the warmth of your bodies entangled together, cold despair doused your heart in cold water. Your breath caught in your throat, you knew that you were now trapped in a cold cage with this insane man, no. god. For the rest of eternity. Together.

note: so yeah, Kallos kinda saw you as a plaything at first that incited his desire because you’re something that is simply out of his control, something new but then it turns into a kinda sick “love” and obsession with you as he finds himself looking at you often than he notices.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[hannieehaee]

WANTED U

18 + / mdi

summary: everything about your relationship with minghao was perfect, leaving you with no complaints. except maybe in one area: minghao's stoic attitude during sex, making you entirely insecure about whether he wanted you as bad as you did him, or if he was maybe just too in love with you to let you down.

content: misunderstandings, established relationship, he's very very in love with reader, he's just a bit backwards, smut, afab reader, miscommunication (shocker), oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, dry humping, mentions of fingering, etc.

wc: 5.7k

a/n: based kind of maybe a lil bit on personal experience but 100% reimagined for fanfic purposes lmao

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

You were absolutely head over heels in love with your boyfriend. There was no way to fight it - not that you wanted to. It was as if his sole goal in life was to love you. He had even told you that before, claiming that his parents had been the greatest love story he had ever seen, and that he had wanted nothing more in life than to find a love like theirs. He'd said that his father had once told him, 'live to love, and love to live', advice which Minghao took to heart.

His father was a wise man when it came to love, even letting Minghao in on the secret that all his ambitions were driven by his love for his mother. Minghao had communicated their entire love story to you soon after meeting. You had only known each other for a short period of time before Minghao confessed to you, claiming that a friendship would not suffice for his heart, which had been taken by you upon your first meeting. He would've respected your decision if you had decided to remain friends, but was relieved to hear your enthusiastic agreement in becoming his girlfriend.

Being his girlfriend came with endless perks. For one, you got to be with the absolute love of your life; a man who was never shy to express his love to you through any means possible. He was also a successful idol, something that came with its troubles, but allowed you to see and support your boyfriend in all his passionate endeavors. He'd spend every free moment tending to you and showing you what it meant to be loved. There was no world in which you weren't completely enamored by the man.

You'd only been dating for four months by now. He had already introduced you to his friends and family, proudly letting them know that you'd be around for a long time, being completely certain that you were the love of his life. Sure, it might've been a bit soon, but the moment Minghao saw you, he knew you were the one. His certainty always made you a bit shy, a reaction which he'd kiss away by reassuring you that he'd never meet a love greater than yours. It was all perfect. You felt at home with his friends and family, quickly growing used to what would now be your forever family, as you also believed Minghao to be the one and only love you would ever come to know.

He showed you love through every means possible. He insisted on taking care of you financially, while also supporting your independent and professional endeavors. He took care of you emotionally, always lending an ear to listen to your problems and lips to soothe your worries. He'd constantly feed you with words of affirmation, almost as if he'd grow sick if he went a single day without you knowing how enamored he was. He'd make love to you ... and that was it on that matter.

Not to misunderstand, your sex life with Minghao was magnificent. There was no form of pleasure the man could not achieve to give you. He had you delirious with arousal with one single touch, making you beg even when he never demanded it from you. As many of his fans guessed, Minghao was just as experienced as he appeared. There was large variety of things he would entertain in the bedroom, never leaving you dissatisfied.

The issue laid in you, truly. Although you were always enthusiastic in the pleasure your boyfriend gave you, you weren't sure you could say it was the same for him. He would always shower you with endless praise and affection in every other circumstance, but while in the throes of passion the most you could really get out of him was a few muffled groans or one or two short-lived praises. You felt as if there was a imbalance in the pleasure you gave one another; almost as if he didn't want you as much as you did him.

You had recently realized that you were often the one to begin any sexual encounter, never having to beg for reciprocation, but also very rarely being enticed by the man himself. You almost felt embarrassed at the realization, having already been feeling a bit off at his lack of reactions towards you during the fact. Was he simply entertaining you out of pity? Did it not feel as good for him? Was he not into you physically as he was emotionally? You knew he always came when being intimate with you, always letting out a lone groan of your name when he finished. It was still hard to feel confident about your sex appeal when your boyfriend never gave you much to work with. You also felt a bit pathetic knowing he gave you the utmost pleasure while you seemingly gave him the barest minimum of it.

Talking to him about it was out of the question. You knew your boyfriend thrived off of healthy communication, but he hadn't mentioned any issues in your sex life, so you felt embarrassed to bring it up. Not only that, but you didn't want to come off as desperate or ungrateful. He was your best friend; the perfect boyfriend. You didn't want to open a can of worms that would have things go awry. So you decided to come up with a plan; maybe test your hypothesis.

Getting Minghao undressed and ready to fuck you was never too difficult. Just a few kisses and whispers asking him to please take care of you and he was ready to take charge. Currently you were in the middle of it, sitting on the couch as he kissed your neck, pulling breathy sighs out of you as you moaned his name, but received no reaction in return. You decided to act as usual, maybe gauge what got him going and what didn't. So far, he had spoken no words as he simply did what he knew you liked. He ran his hands through your body and kissed you deeply, drawing moans and whines out of you at the simplest of touches.

You felt a bit embarrassed, realizing how easy it was for him to get you going while it was the complete opposite for him. Now on the bed, he ground against you, still making no sound or any other indication of pleasure as he thrusted his hardness against you. You wondered how that felt for him. He was hard, so surely he was aroused, right? Shouldn't that equal some type of pleasurable reaction to the feeling? You weren't able to ponder on this for long, as he suddenly knelt next to bed, going straight to business against your heat.

"H-hao ... fuck!", you pulled at his hair, extremely sensitive to his touch as you usually were.

You couldn't help yourself in pulling at his hair, even grinding against his skilled tongue. You were completely lost to the bliss, moaning endlessly at the pleasure, unlike your boyfriend, whose only sounds were the slick of his tongue dragging against your pussy. If the tables were turned and Minghao was growing delirious on the feeling of your mouth on him, you'd be just as affected, getting off on the sound of his voice moaning out your name. So, you couldn't help but still feel disappointed at him eating you out with no further reaction.

However, the feeling of your orgasm overtook your disappointment, making you forget about any ill feelings and cumming against his tongue. What followed made you hollow out again, though.

He got up from his knelt position, nodding at you and asking a simple, "ready?" before undoing his pants and climbing on top of you, entering you immediately after putting on a condom.

You moaned and whined against his ear, scratching at his back at the pleasure; all things you usually did when he fucked you, but received no reaction in return. He'd give you the occasional muffled grunt, not even seeming like he was holding back, but more like he had nothing to give. It was a conflicting feeling. On one hand, you felt an insane amount of physical pleasure, but on the other, your emotions couldn't help but feel hurt by his lack of arousal towards you. Call you shallow, but you just wanted to feel like your boyfriend found you sexy, damnit!

"F-fuck, Hao! Gonna cum, don't stop. Shit!", it was easy for him to get you there, knowing all your weak spots by now. And it was just as easy for your body to take control of your mind, making you forget all worries as you came once again. He didn't take long to reach you, releasing into the condom with a grunt.

What made it worse was how sweet he was afterwards, calling you his beautiful girl and helping you clean up, only to cuddle you afterwards.

"You okay, my love? Felt good?"

Now, to any reasonable person, this would've been the perfect chance to speak up, maybe let him know about your concerns, but you just felt too pathetic. What were you supposed to do? Force your boyfriend to moan? Force him to give you the reactions you wanted rather than the ones that came naturally from him? You were supposed to accept him as he was, just like he did you. So, you responded with evasion.

"Yes, baby. Felt amazing. Love you."

You decided to go for a different approach this time.

Within the few months that you and Minghao had dated, you had really only spent a little under two months physically around each other. His job had a tendency of pulling him away from you for extended periods of time, so you were lucky if you ever got a whole week with him. This meant that the two of you would always try to make the best of the time you did get to spend together.

Within those two months of physical proximity, you two had a healthy sex life. You had sex for the first time only two weeks into the relationship, then proceeding to have it very regularly after that. Although, you were usually the one to initiate it.

In order to change things up, you decided to stop. You wanted to see how long it would take Minghao to approach you himself. Maybe gauge what it'd be like if you suddenly took it away. Would he react then? Would it feel better for him if you allowed a short period of time for things to mellow out?

The answer was no.

Only three days after your previous time having sex, he came home from dance practice, greeting you with a kiss. Except that instead of pulling away, he kept your lips connected, grabbing onto your waist to pull you close to him. Things went pretty much as usual after that. No words were exchanged (at least not from his side of things) as he undressed you and entered you while laying on the couch.

It was insanely pleasurable as per usual. His pace was slower than normal, and you heard a few more muffled grunts, which excited you like crazy.

"H-hao ..." you couldnt help but sigh as he angled himself perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you. You scratched at his back, arching your back against his chest.

He made no response, only going faster as he clearly realized your end was coming. He held you close to him, caressing your body tenderly despite the rapid movement of his hips. It was all perfect, sans the thing you wanted most; his lust for you. He cleaned you up afterwards, sheepishly apologizing for jumping you with no warning, giving you a quick peck as he said it. The conversation regarding sex ended there, with him expanding about his day and you yours. Had this been progress? You weren't sure.

Next attempt felt a bit pathetic.

You looked amazing. You needed no confirmation, you just knew it. You had bought a pretty lacy number, exactly in a style you knew your boyfriend would like. You hadn't had a chance so far to really dress up for him yet. So far, you had worn pretty panties and matching bras while being sexually active with him, but there had been no instance in which you really pulled out a whole set for him.

It felt a bit silly, resorting to perfectly trimmed lace in order to see if maybe your boyfriend would show some lust towards you. You even lit some candles, for god's sakes. This had to work, or else you'd feel like the biggest loser alive. You were a bit anxious, to be honest. You had never dressed up for a guy, but you'd heard it worked wonders in the bedroom. You knew the sex itself would be amazing, but you hoped that everything else also lived up to standard.

It wasn't long until you heard the keys unlock the door, which signaled that you should put into position. You had a matching silk robe, throwing it on as if to hide Hao's gift under a perfectly tied knot. He hadn't noticed you upon entering the room, having to do a double take to take notice of your pretty hair and makeup, way too fancy for an usual occasion.

"Love? W-what's with the look? You look beautiful," he approached you with a sweet smile, arms going directly to your waist

"Just wanted to do a little something for you, Hao. Do you like it?"

"Of course, angel. You look so pretty. Is there anything under the robe?", he lifted his eyebrow at you, hands playing with the knot.

"Find out?", you wanted to give him free rein, wanting to once more gauge his reaction. This was all for research purposes, after all.

"Oh ... Baby, you didn't have to do this ... You look gorgeous ..." he breathed out upon undoing the tie on the robe, immediately pushing it off as he ran his hands up and down your body. Yes, this was a good start. An amazing start, actually. He wanted you? That had been just your goal. His breathy sigh? God, that had you reeling.

He seemed to get distracted by the sight of your body being hugged by the expensive fabric, but eventually snapped out of it, shaking his head as if to get himself out of a trance. He kissed you after that, no longer paying any mind to the lingerie, nor to his previous reaction to you. He kissed and kissed you, same as he always did. Your moans against his lips fell to deaf ears, as he did not reciprocate with more moans of his own. You kissed him back, unable to not match his enthusiasm in making love to your lips.

What had just happened? You were going in the right track! He had suddenly just snapped himself out of it, basically willing the lust away. Had he wanted to hold back on purpose? Did you just need to incite him?

You let him kiss you for a while before gesturing for him to kiss down your neck, playing up your moans a bit and pushing your chest towards him. Eventually you placed his hands on your chest, now being a bit more direct.

"H-hao ... Do you like it? Did I do good?", okay, now you were a bit more embarrassed. You had never really delved into dirty talk with Minghao, much less submissive speech. There had never been a need since the man had no tendency to speak during sex at all - sans the times he'd check up on you. You hoped maybe he would react well to it.

"Yes, angel. You're perfect. Let me take care of you now, yeah?"

That was code for be quiet and let me get to business. Or at least that's how you took it. You were disheartened, but allowed him to continue, still enjoying his touch regardless of anything. You appreciated the compliments, but you did not feel sexy anymore. What you were feeling could better be described as childish and dejected. You felt like you'd shown a desperate side of yourself only to be met with nothing in return.

Your thoughts faded away the moment he began to drag his thigh between your legs, quickly drawing moans and cries of his name out of you. Was it that hard for him to do the same? What more did you need to do?

Logically, it didn't take him long to make you cum. You came in your lace panties, still earning a groan out of him upon feeling your cunt spasm against his bare thigh.

"Hmm, baby. Looked so pretty today ... Are you okay? Need me to clean you up?", he gave you a sweet kiss, running his hands up and down your sides in a caring manner.

"I'm fine, Hao, thank you. I, uh, what about you? Are you ... ?"

"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about it," he smiled at you despite the obvious boner concealed by his shorts, "Get changed, angel. You'll get sticky and cold."

And that was it once again. Your outfit had given you a favorable reaction, but it died off quicker than you expected. You were back to square one all over again.

You had one final plan. If this didn't give you answers, you weren't sure how to proceed from there.

What if you pulled a 'Minghao' on Minhhao? Would he react if you suddenly became stoic while in his arms? It felt disingenuous, and the mere thought honestly made you feel a little mean, but you had grown desperate by now. It had been months of amazing sex that you were sure was gratifying only to you.

Next time you and Minghao found yourselves in that mood, you decided to lay pliant in his arms; not react to his touches and movements the way you usually would.

It was weird, not letting him know how much you loved his touch. You kissed him back, even held him back too, but your mouth was silent, as was your body. He kissed down your neck, soft hands touching at every corner that usually had your eyes rolling back, but you persisted. There were no reactions out of you, only muffled groans just like his own. You felt some hesitance in his touches, sometimes pausing as he didn't get the desired effect from his actions. He didn't vocalize his concerns, however, only continuing his path as he fingered you. His lips never left your skin as he worked you through your first orgasm.

It had been a feat, truly. The feeling of his lips against your skin was enough to have you mewling for more. His fingers curling inside you usually had you whining his name, but this time the most you could allow yourself to muster was muffled or broken cries as he drew you to completion. Even then he didn't question you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion with the question trapped between his lips. He moved on to undo his pants, prepping you a bit before sliding inside you. He let out the lone moan he always did upon sliding through you, but made no further noise.

You were going insane, toes curling and body completely tense, trying your hardest not to react. It wasn't just the pleasure, but your intense feelings for the man. The way he felt against you and gave you all his love through his touch. You felt like crying at the thought. Which is what you did without realizing. You couldn't help yourself. The love you had for your boyfriend was indescribable, even if you had been dating for so little. He felt the same, which was something he'd always let you know on the tender nights you'd spend sleeping in each other's arms. Right now, though, you felt like shit. It was hard for you to even enjoy his touch, which was a new experience for you.

Minghao must've noticed your cries, which had been louder than you realized, instantly halting his movements and checking on you.

"Angel? My love, what's wrong? Are you hurt?", he pulled away completely, still keeping his arms at your sides in an attempt to soothe you, but pulling his still hard cock out of you.

The sudden lack of proximity only made you cry louder, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong, please. I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt you. Where does it hurt. How can I make it better?"

"Why- why don't you want me?", the question left your lips before you even realized, face heating up at your own words.

"What? Want you? What do you mean?"

There was still time to run it back, maybe make some type of excuse about why you'd been crying. But your emotions decided for you, not allowing your brain to formulate a lie before your mouth was opening again.

You took a quick breather, allowing yourself to catch your breath before responding. Minghao seemed to understand this, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner.

"I just ... I just don't understand. I love you, Minghao. I love you so much. I want you so much. Why don't you want me back? What do I need to do? I cant ... I can't keep doing this," you had stopped crying by then, but your emotions were still heightened.

"Love? I love you. What are you talking about? I'm in love with you, you know this. Please tell me what you mean? Tell me if you're hurt. I can't- I'd never want to hurt you."

He was now sitting right by you, your legs now closer while his hand came up to your cheek, wiping one of the last few tears remaining on your face. It made you feel like an asshole. He was being the amazing boyfriend you always knew him to be, reassuring you of bis affections while being worried for your wellbeing, not once stopping to care about himself. Meanwhile, you were crying because you wanted your boyfriend to feel lust for you. It was pathetic, really.

"I know you love me, Hao. You're the perfect boyfriend. I'm okay, I just ... fuck. I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry. I don't want you to worry about me, it's so stupid, I'm sorry, I-"

"Angel, please stop apologizing. Tell me what's wrong. You don't have to be embarrassed. I need to know what you're thinking so that we can talk through it, okay? I'd never judge you," he was sincere in his words, taking on a soft smile as he tried to welcome the idea of an open conversation about whatever was on your mind. It was now or never, you guessed.

You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "I feel like ... I feel like you don't want me."

"Want you how, angel?"

"I've tried everything Minghao. I've pursued you, I've let you pursue me, I've been loud, I've been quiet. Fuck, I even threw myself at you with stupid lingerie that you didn't even care about, but it never works. You don't want me, and it's driving me insane. I'm sorry, I know it's so stupid. I don't want to- I don't want to force anything on you or make you feel uncomfortable, but I feel so, fuck, I feel so pathetic. Like you have sex with me just to humor me. Like you're giving me something and I have nothing to show in return. I'm so- I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure what you were apologizing for. It was either the embarrassment or the warm gaze that wouldn't leave your own as you rambled.

"My love ... You think- you think I don't want you?"

"You don't have to humor me, Minghao, I already know. I've made peace with it, it's just .. tonight was too much. I tried to keep my emotions out of it, but it only made me break faster."

"Oh, angel," he closed the gap, pulling you even closer to him as he put his palms on your cheeks, drawing you closer while looking into your eyes, thumbs caressing the skin there, "I think I owe you an apology."

"No!", you grabbed onto his wrists, interrupting him before he could continue and separating yourself in the same breath, knowing you could never speak your mind while he held you so lovingly, "You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm sorry. I should've never tried to pressure you, I did this to myself, I-"

"I need you to let me talk, angel, please. I need to explain myself."

"Oh. I- okay. Continue."

"I adore you, my love. You know this. To think that you could ever think I don't want you breaks my heart. It's all my fault, I should've never done this, I- I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I don't ache for you the way you do me. I want you in ways I can't describe."

"But-"

"Let me finish," his hands were back on you, one caressing your cheek while the other ran up and down your arm in an almost sensual manner, "You think I don't think about you every passing moment? That you don't plague my thoughts every day? My beautiful girl ... You're the prettiest thing I've ever had. Holding you in my arms as you writhe under me is the biggest form of pleasure I've ever felt. You- you think-" he took a deep breath before continuing, "You think I don't think about you on my lonely nights away from your touch? That I don't touch myself thinking of you; your curves, your soft skin, the way you cry my name ..."

"H-hao ..." your breath was just as heavy as his by now, mouth dry as you heard him recite his one and every emotion towards you.

"You think you don't plague my mind at the most inopportune moments?", he continued despite your interruption, "I think of you every day. When I'm at practice, when I'm performing, fuck, I think of you when I'm having dinner with my parents. Your body invades my every thought. You beautiful, gorgeous thing. I ... I've had to hold back. Didn't want to scare you away with the impossible lust I feel for you. Every time you let me have you, I have to hold back. I can never fully have you. I don't know what it'd do to me. I've wanted you from the moment we met. I've wanted to explore every inch of your body and make you mine. But your pleasure is my main priority. Always. As long as you're satisfied, I could never ask for more. But to think you ever believed I didn't want ache for you every passing moment pains me. I ... I want to .. Can I show you? Will you let me show you how badly I need you?"

"Please .. Fuck, Hao, please, I-"

He moaned the moment he finally connected your lips, hands going crazy at the way he squeezed and caressed every inch he could reach. His moans against your lips did not halt as you whined desperately at his kiss, relishing in the speech he had just delivered to you. What you were feeling was beyond lust at this point. You felt something you had never before, having waited months for your boyfriend to finally want you the way you did him. You weren't sure if he was playing it up for you, but you didn't want it to stop regardless.

"My love," he finally disconnected your lips, "Going to give you everything. Everything I've been holding back, I- I don't even know where to start."

His eyes could not stay in one place, darting around every inch of your nude body. You had known Minghao to be attracted to you, it was something he expressed many times, but you had never seen the calm man so frantic before. His calm nature was completely gone.

"You can do anything you want, Hao. Just, please ..."

He shut you up with yet another kiss, laying you down on the bed in the process. He dragged his dick against your cunt, groaning at the feeling. You were still drenched from your ruined orgasm from earlier, and he was hard due to your prior interruption, so it wasn't difficult to get the two of you ready for each other.

"Wanna be in you so badly, but .. Fuck, you just feel so good like this angel," he was grabbing onto your thighs by now, lifting them up in order to angle himself just right to drag his cock right against your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face flushed. He was a broken version of himself, with his only purpose in mind being to bring the two of you the most pleasure imaginable. You felt like an idiot for never expressing your concerns to your boyfriend, not imagining that it'd end up so favorably for you. The pleasure you felt at his lack of self-control as he played with you couldn't compare to any previous time in which you'd made love.

He separated himself from you before either of you could come, muttering something along the lines of 'Wanna savor you, my love.' He still seemed frantic, not fully sure where he wanted to touch first or what part of you to enjoy at that moment. He went from kissing your chest to rubbing your pussy with his long fingers. He put you in all positions he could think of to kiss up and down your body, waxing poetic at you repeatedly as he sighed against your skin. The occasional times in which his cock would accidentally grace against you had you burning, wanting him inside you more than anything. Now that you knew he wanted you just as bad as you did him; now that he was fully yours.

"My beautiful girl ... Love you so much. The pleasure you bring me .. You have no idea. How could I ever let you think I didn't carry a torch for you night after night. Is this okay? Is it okay to want someone this badly? To ache for you day and night, only thinking of your touch?," he was finally facing you again, close enough to invade all your senses.

"Gonna have you now, okay, angel? Gonna show you how strongly I feel about you. How you make me lose all my inhibitions."

He entered you with no further warning, letting out the groan he always did, but this time his mouth would not stop running, moaning and sighing your name against your ear, letting you know how your cunt around him made him lose his mind.

"My most beautiful, girl ... fuck. Gonna break you ... I've held back for too long ... Need you every day," the way he was fucking you was nothing short of animalistic, with both his words and the slapping of your skin filling up the silence of the room.

"God, that day you showed up with that pretty set for me? Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not pin you against the wall and rip it off of you? Make you cry as you took all of me until every single drop of my cum was leaking from your cunt? The image has not left my mind for a single moment, angel. Can't think, shit ... Can't breathe without thinking of you," despite his insane dancer stamina, his breathing was becoming disheveled as he continued to piston into you.

You had thought that Minghao had already given you all types of pleasure throughout your relationship, but now that he had finally snapped you had truly reached heaven. And it seemed like it was the case for him too. He was unable to stop himself from telling you his every thought, with his emotions getting the best of him as he fucked into you almost animalistically. His fingers were bruising your thighs as he held you with all bis might; something you thought your soft and sweet Minghao was incapable of doing.

"Hao ... I need .. I'm gonna cum, Hao, please!"

"Yeah? Gonna let me have it, angel? Love when you cum for me. So soft and pretty, all for me. Cum, my love. Cum and I'll give you all of me in return."

The thought of his cum filling you up made you lose control, cumming as your back arched almost completely off the bed. You felt like you'd ascended, being given the most intense orgasm of your life, followed by a warm feeling inside you; the feeling of Minghao's essence penetrating you.

He almost fell on top of you as he finished, breath hot and heavy against your skin.

"My love? Are you okay? Was that too much?," it only took a few moments of silence for him to speak up, showing immediate concern for your limp and breathless state.

You had been more than okay, having never felt more loved and wanted in your life. From his words to his actions, Minghao had managed to make you realize how wrong you'd been all along. It wasn't that he didn't want you, but that he wanted you too much to hold back if given the chance to fully give himself to you. But now it was all out in the open. Now you could finally enjoy each other to the fullest extent.

"I'm okay, Hao. Thank you," you felt shy in the aftermath of it, now fully processing all the words of lust your boyfriend had whispered against your skin as he fucked you into the mattress. You had seen a side of Minghao you hadn't known existed.

"Are you sure? I didn't scare you off, did I?"

"Are you kidding? I've wanted you to do that for ages. I was going insane throwing myself at you!"

He chuckled, booping at your nose lovingly, "You were making my resolve break, my love. Wasn't sure how much longer I could go without going past my limit."

"Could've talked me through it at least once, you know. I wouldn't've objected," you humphed.

"How about I make up for it now, hmm? Let me clean you up in the shower?"

"Yeah? Gonna tell me how much you want me again?", you grinned against him.

"Yes, my angel. Every single day."

a/n: not proofread and i also had no idea how to end it my bad </3

[vanderlesbian]

dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.

dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.

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dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.

dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.

dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.

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