#so I think some things were cut to make the story less confusing

[monitorkernelaccess]

me when I see a post I disagree with on tumblr dot com but I don’t wanna reblog it because it’s really just someone expressing their opinion and it’s years old anyway

[ID: A version of the man at a party “they don’t know” meme. It reads:

“They don’t know Spectre in the movie was already a merger between the place that had no name, a purgatory-like place just outside of Ashland, and the town of Specter, a cute town Edward buys just for the hell of it, and also that the story of the witch is a merger of the old lady with the glass eye and Jenny Hill, the girl who lives in a swamp and acts strange and crazy and mysterious after Edward leaves her with a broken heart, so that’s why they’re the same person in the movie. And also that John August wrote the book to the musical too and Daniel Wallace approved of his adaptations for both movie and musical.” End ID]

[amirasainz]

Can you please do reader is Charles and Alexandra ex but they are obsessed with her and can’t believe she dumped them, they trying to get her back but she’s moved on. Maybe only if your comfortable do Charles and Alex dark?

Alright, so this is my first time writing something dark. I hope I did a good job. Pease keep in ind that this is just a story for entertainement and nothing about this is real.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

Part 2

In the grip of obsession

The room was spinning, a dull throb pulsing at the back of Y/N’s head. Her eyelids were heavy, her limbs weak and uncooperative. Darkness surrounded her, but as her senses slowly returned, she realized she wasn’t in the club anymore. She wasn’t anywhere familiar.

The cold, sterile scent of the room mingled with the faint smell of expensive cologne. Panic crept in as she tried to move, her body betraying her as her muscles refused to respond. Her wrists felt raw, tightly bound behind her back. She could feel soft silk pressed against her skin, but the comfort of the fabric was overshadowed by the hard chair beneath her.

Slowly, Y/N forced her eyes open, squinting against the dim light filtering in from a nearby window. Shadows danced across the room, but through the haze of confusion, one thing became terrifyingly clear—she was not alone.

"Finally awake, mon amour?" a voice broke the silence, soft but with an undercurrent of dangerous obsession.

Charles.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as her eyes darted around the room, finally landing on him. He stood by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the streetlights outside, his piercing eyes locked onto her. His usual boyish charm was gone, replaced by something darker, more unhinged.

"You shouldn’t have gone out," came another voice from the corner of the room, this one softer but no less menacing. Alexandra stepped into the light, her arms crossed as she studied Y/N like a predator watching its prey. "You knew better than that."

Y/N's mouth was dry, her throat burning as she tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged whisper, "W-what... What is this?"

Charles walked toward her, crouching in front of her chair. His face, usually so handsome and full of life, was twisted with something she could only describe as obsession. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care.

"This," he whispered, "is where you belong."

Her heart pounded in her chest as the realization set in. This wasn’t a nightmare she could wake up from. This was real.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N's voice was shaky, fear creeping into every word. She tugged at the ropes binding her hands, but they didn’t give.

"You broke up with us," Alexandra said coldly, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. "You thought you could just walk away? After everything we’ve been through? After all the hate you put up with for us?"

"That wasn’t your choice to make," Charles added, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to us, Y/N. You always did."

She shook her head, her vision still blurry, but the horror of the situation cut through the fog in her mind. "You’re insane... both of you."

Charles chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Maybe. But we don’t care anymore. We tried to let you go, we really did. But you’re everywhere, Y/N. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Every race, every podium, every fucking interview, it’s you. I can’t breathe without thinking about you."

"Neither can I," Alexandra said, her voice calmer but no less disturbing. "You broke us, Y/N. And now we’re just fixing what you broke."

"You can’t do this," Y/N gasped, her voice cracking with desperation. "Let me go, Charles. Alex, please..."

But they just stared at her, unmoved by her pleas.

"You went out clubbing, Y/N," Alexandra said, almost scolding. "Dressed like that, with those friends of yours. You’ve moved on, haven’t you?"

Y/N didn’t answer, too scared of what they’d do if she told the truth.

"You’re ours," Charles growled, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. His eyes blazed with possessiveness. "You always were, and you always will be. We were too nice before, letting you walk away like that. But not anymore."

Tears stung Y/N's eyes as she struggled against the restraints. Her wrists burned, her head pounded, and the overwhelming feeling of dread consumed her.

"I don’t love you anymore," she whispered, her voice trembling.

For a moment, the room fell silent. Charles' grip tightened painfully on her jaw, his knuckles white with tension. Alexandra's eyes flashed dangerously.

"You don’t mean that," Charles said, though his voice wavered. He was trying to convince himself as much as her. "You’re just upset. You’ll remember soon enough how good we were together. We made you happy, Y/N."

"You made me miserable," she spat, her voice gaining strength despite the terror gripping her. "I couldn’t even go online without people tearing me apart for being with you. And you did nothing. You let them do it. You cared more about your careers than about me."

Alexandra's face twisted with fury. "That’s not true! We loved you—we love you. Those people were jealous, that's all. They hated that you had what they wanted."

Y/N shook her head, refusing to be gaslighted by them. "No, you loved the idea of me. But I was never enough for you."

Charles stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. His hands raked through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "You don’t understand. You were everything to us! We just... we just didn’t know how to handle it then. But we do now."

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she saw the crazed determination in his eyes. They weren’t going to let her go. Not ever.

"You can’t keep me here," she said, trying to reason with them. "Someone will notice I’m missing. The team... my friends..."

Alexandra smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "We’ve taken care of that. Everyone thinks you left the club with some random guy. They'll believe whatever story we give them."

Y/N’s stomach churned. She hadn’t realized how carefully they had planned this.

"You won’t get away with this," she whispered, though even she wasn’t sure she believed it.

"Oh, but we already have," Charles said, stepping closer again, his hand cupping her cheek with a false tenderness. "You’ll see, Y/N. In time, you’ll remember how good we are together. We’ll make you love us again."

Her breath hitched as she saw the manic intensity in his eyes. There was no reasoning with them. They had crossed a line, one from which they could never return.

"You can fight it," Alexandra said softly, brushing her fingers down Y/N’s arm, "but you won’t win. We’re not going to hurt you, Y/N. We just... we just need you back." Alex gave forcefully gave her a kiss on the lips, while Charles sucked the skin of her neck between his teeth, leaving a hickey behind. And just like that, they left.

Y/N closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She was trapped, bound in more ways than one, and no one was coming to save her.

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

[tealfloyd]

THE PREFECT'S SHOW #1 — TRAVELLING WITH CROWLEY: 0/10

It's not often you go to holiday vacations with your teachers. While some may consider that possibility an interesting situation, you can't say the same for a certain masked headmage.

CONTENT: Crowley + Crewel (Platonic). They're trying to be good father figures; Crowley fails in the process. NUMBER OF WORDS: 1,5k.

“Fun fact,” you started, stirring the coffee you brought with you as you sat down, placing it on the table. “Heartslabyul students don't drink coffee because they have a rule against it. It's kind of like a forbidden drink, and if you consider the health risks, it's understandable. But this thing has been my lifesaver, and I'm no Heartslabyul student, so,” you continued sipping, “it's even better."

“What's up? Ramshackle Prefect here ready to tell the story about how my guardian almost left me behind at the airport during the holidays."

You took a large, final sip of your coffee before placing it aside, clearing your throat.

“To start, I want you to picture this: the holiday break is close, and the finals are over, resulting in happy students having the time of their life, including me. Now, ditch all that and replace it with overwhelming concern the moment Crowley asks for my assistance. Again."

“Headmage?” You asked, stepping inside Crowley's office, looking for his distintive figure everywhere. “Is something the matter?"

“Young MC," he abruptly said, causing you to jump in surprise as you turn to meet his gaze. You felt nervousness begin to creep up your spine upon inspecting his eyes, thinking the worst of scenarios due to how serious he was. Did Grim fail all the exams? Were you about to get expelled? Was he going to cut your allowance once more?

You definitely thought a lot of possibilities. None of them were good.

“You see. While finishing my plans for my upcoming vacations, I happened to encounter an extra-ticket I wasn't aware of, and what kind of headmaster would I be if not the one that makes sure his students are content with wonderful gifts?"

You tilted your head, confused at the implication. "I'm afraid I'm not following you."

"Dear Prefect," Crowley said, his flourished words becoming even more dramatic after your oblivious remark. "I'm inviting you to spend your holidays with me! Oh, how incredibly kind of me!"

Suspicion was the only thing that flooded you, one of the many reactions Crowley often caused in you when putting up questionable situations like these on the table. "You want me to accompany you on your vacations?" You asked, a million of possible scenarios running through your head. "Am I going to encounter some kind of mafia on your behalf—"

"I'd never do such a thing!"

"Asking the mafia for favors or send me off to pay your debt?"

"My, I'm only doing this because of my immense kindness!" He proclaimed, a huff leaving his lips upon seeing that you still hadn't given up on frowning. "Look. I'm aware that I may not have been the best of guardians, but I'm positive that this trip will bring none other than wonderful memories! So, what do you say?"

“I had my doubts," you fixed the camera briefly before continuing. “I think every person that has met Crowley would've had them. But it seemed genuine, so I said yes. However, the problem came after that."

"Absolutely not," Crewel remarked, his gloved hands graciously working on packing every single piece of attire he could find, not even stopping to acknowledge Crowley's proposal. "There's no way I'm letting you take MC to a different country, much less when I can't be there to watch over her."

"May I remind you that I'm perfectly able to care for MC? Why, if I'm perfectly suitable to be her father!" Crowley argued, his overdramatic words only causing Divus' vein to become more noticeable, his eye beginning to twitch.

"And may I remind you that the one who pays for her food and clothes is me?" Divus countered, trying to contain his frustration as to not damage the fragile dress he was preparing for an upcoming event. A gala that was going to be held on another country that featured his new winter designs, or so he told you. "If anything, I was going to invite her to spend her holidays with me."

"Totally inadmissible! The gentlemen code clearly stands up for the one who posed the invitation first."

"Well, I'm sure MC is going to agree with me," and right then and there, both of them turned to look at you at the same time, making you flinch in realization of what was about to come.

"Right?"

"I, uh..." You pondered for a moment, taking your time to think before sighing. "I think that I want to go with Crowley. Not because I favor him or something, but you have your gala, and I don't want to bother you. Plus, it'd be interesting if he stands for what he says."

Crewel sighed, walking a few long strides before standing right in front of you, a concerned expression on his features. "Are you completely sure? I won't have difficulties to take care of you if you do decide to come with me."

You smiled at him, reassuring his uneasiness. "I'm sure. You always told me that we mustn't judge before experiencing first, so I'm trying to abide by that."

"Oh, what an immensely great moment for a daughter and her kind father—"

"Stop that."

“Indeed. I trusted Crowley's invitation," you nodded, grimacing at the memory. "In my defense, I really thought it was going to be a chill vacation. Grim didn't complain much after I told him we were going to a tropical beach, given that he thought he was going to get a lot of free fish, and since Crewel had given Crowley his blessing—and a well-placed threat—all that was left was packaging and leaving."

"Let's focus on the leaving part."

“Are you sure we couldn't have just... I don't know, do something more humane than forcing him to sleep?" You asked Crowley, who was already in vacation mode, as you looked down at the cage Grim was in. For as kind as his invitation was, you surely didn't expect him to use his magic to put your little monster to sleep after he caused a fuss to not get put into "prison" (meaning, a cat cage); all this trouble just so he didn't have to pay for another ticket. Incredible.

"It's completely okay, Prefect! Little Grim will be more than elated once he sees that he hadn't had to withstand the horrors of turbulence," he responded, his apparently unharmful words to excuse himself enough to make you sigh.

"Whatever you say."

It took you both less than ten minutes to arrive to the waiting area, with you about to sit and relax before boarding time when Crowley spoke. "Prefect, can you be so kind to bring me some vittles? It's incredibly important to make sure to board with a full stomach."

"I don't know how factual that is, but okay," you nodded, leaving both Grim and your luggage (which wasn't much to begin with, at least compared to his much larger suitcase) on the chair next to him, walking to the nearest shop.

“Ten minutes." You brought a hand to your forehead, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you recalled the worst part of the story. "It took me ten minutes to grab everything that he and I might need, and apparently, in that short span of TEN MINUTES, an announcement went off informing everyone that our flight was boarding earlier."

"And guess what?"

Slamming your palm on the table, you raised your voice, filled with frustration. “Crowley had forgotten that I hadn't returned despite my belongings and Grim being in his hands! So, I was left alone in a crowded airport with no phone, no boarding ticket and no guardian, so, again, guess what I had to do."

“Excuse me," you politely called, drawing the attention of the woman sitting right at the information booth. “I would like to make an announcement, if possible. It's to call for my familiar; he got lost and I can't find him."

“Of course. Please make sure it's short." You thanked the lady, taking ahold of the intercom being handed to you before pressing the button.

“Dire Crowley. For the crime of leaving MC behind she is in the rightful obligation of telling Divus Crewel you abandoned her and thus, you're to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Thank you for your attention." After the announcement, you handed the communicator back to the information woman, smiling in response to her shocked expression. “Thank you very much."

“To be honest, I kept it classy. Not because I wanted to but because there were children around, but if it wasn't for them then I WOULD'VE TOLD HIM THAT HOW DOES HE DARE TO LEAVE ME BEHIND AT AN AIRPORT WITHOUT ANY MEANS OF COMMUNICATION AND WITH BARELY ENOUGH MONEY FOR A SANDWICH. YES, CROWLEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU, YOU ABSOLUTELY PIECE OF SH—"

Cue to your enraged self being cut off and replaced with a much more calmer one, playing with the edge of your cup.

“It was a hard day. Mostly because after he picked me up, I tripped and fell face-first on the floor. So, yeah, awesome day. I never had so much fun before."

"Crewel doesn't know this since I told him that I was having the time of my life. And, in contrast to what you may think after telling you all this, I did enjoy the rest of the trip; surprisingly enough, Crowley bought me an expensive souvenir as an "I'm sorry" gift." Grabbing a handmade figurine of a traditional character people in that island supposedly adored, you showcased it to the camera, pointing at a few, cheaply painted spots. "Yeah, he was probably scammed, but it's the thought that counts."

You placed it back on the table before returning your focus on the camera, a soft smile adorning your face.

“Well, the coffee is over, the story has been told and the time's up, so today's vlog has come to an end." And before disconnecting the camera, you made a peace sign. "Prefect out."

VIDEO OVER. WISH TO REPLAY?

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[hee0soo]

Don't be a Stranger - A S[e]oul Story -3-

Pairing — Kim Hongjoong x Foreigner!Reader

Summary — Hongjoong just had to use the little time he had while you were still around...

Genre — fluff

AU/Trope Info — Idol!Au, SliceofLifeAu

Wordcount — 1.2k

Warnings — none

Rating — sfw

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

The next time you found yourself standing in front of the new KQ Building was just as unplanned as the first time had been. This time however it was an official invitation by Hongjoong himself, which did not make you any less nervous then the first time.

No, it seemed that this time you actually felt even more nervous then before!

So dressed in a bucket hat, mask and sunglasses on your nose you walked up the stairs and through the door straight to the elevator.

It couldn’t be that bad seeing as you already had hundreds of messages on your phone to prove that you had yet to scare him away, yet your nerves stayed frazzled. You had gotten to know him a bit beyond the idol persona through them and he had managed to have you feel comfortable enough to share some things about yourself too. Not once had Hongjoong seemed like he was making fun of you for it, rather he had showed genuine interest in what you liked and what you didn’t. So no, him asking you to see you roughly 1,5 weeks later and with the end of your vacation looming over your head, it shouldn’t be that bad.

It was the last chance where he was able to with schedules slowly filling up again after having slowed for the time being and upon finding out when your flight back home was booked, Hongjoong had demanded to meet up at least once to hang out for a bit as he had said when he had asked if you were interested in seeing him again.

You were apprehensive at first, hanging out with one of your idols should be a dream come true in theory, yet in reality you weren’t so delulu to think that it would be as magical as tiktok edits of them made it out to be. But the selfie of a pouty Hongjoong you got after initially refusing had you melting on the spot.

So yes, americano and your favorite beverage and some snacks in hand you stepped out of the elevator and marched up to the entrance to ring the bell.

Just a moment later the face of Hongjoong appeared behind the milky glass door. You didn’t know why you had expected the woman from last time to be the one to let you in, but something about it being Hongjoong left you giddy inside.

“Annyeonghaseyo!” you chanted out joined by a shy bow and cringed at the way it sounded way to rehearsed. Hongjoong almost cooed at the spooked look on your face, immediately reaching for your arm to pull you back up as soon as you had lowered yourself.

“Ah, you don’t need to! I’m friend.” He spoke softly, his accent audible while speaking English. Pointing at the drink you held in your hands, he asked, “For me?” with bright eyes.

You nodded before handing it to him.

“Yes, I thought since you invited me, I could at least bring some snacks and coffee.”

“Thank you but you no need-“ he began and got promptly cut off.

“I wanted to, so take it or I’ll drink it!”

Pleased to see that you were comfortable enough to tease him, he took the coffee from your hands only answer in pout. “No, that’s mine!”

He skipped a few feet away down the hall, gesturing with his head for you to follow him.

The confused looks you both received from the secretary behind the desk went unnoticed, instead you followed his lead to where you guessed his studio was located.

Opening the door for you to step in first you walked in, taking a seat on the couch. Hongjoong himself sat down in his producing chair, taking a sip of his drink.

You spend the time talking about everything that came to your mind, both you and him bantering with each other like you have know the other for ages. There was no dull moment, no second of silence and not minute of thinking this was a mistake.

You could barely breath from laughing to much at his jokes and the snacks emptied gradually and suddenly it was 9 pm instead of 1 pm and Hongjoong had ordered food for both of you with some soju on the side.

The flavored alcohol had your face scrunching up because of the sweetness and Hongjoong straight up giggled in your face.

“You don’t like?” he hiccupped between laughter’s and you shook your head furiously coughing.

“Not this flavor at least!”

Handing you a bottle of water the rapper snickered at your expression.

“Thank you! And stop laughing!”

To be fair, he tried! It still took him several deep breaths to actually school his face into a calmer one. Not calm, but calmer. You could still see the amusement settling on his face as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Okay, okay! I calm now!” Another inhale. Another failed attempt.

“Yahh, don’t be mean!” you whined followed by a pouty smile.

“I’m not! I’m sorry!”

“No, you aren’t!”

“I am!”

A knock cut the banter off. Someone who you recognized as Eden walked in, a frown placed on his face when he understood that Hongjoong wasn’t alone in there. You tried to appear neutral to his presence yet polite when you greeted him quietly.

The man seemed to ignore your presence entirely as he addressed the leader of Ateez with a scowl.

“Are you planning on joining us today or…” he trailed off and Hongjoongs eyes widened at the implication of his words. “Ah, I forgot the session! I’m sorry hyung!”

“Just hurry this up and come when you are ready.”

Eden left.

Hongjoong looked at you, seemingly sorry for something you knew wasn’t his fault.

“I-“

“You have to get back to work again, it’s okay.” You smiled, reassuring him that it really was okay.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, please! I understand, I just glad that we had so much time together.”

Reaching forward to clean up the mess of snack bags and coffee cups, you got up; getting ready to leave with a heavy heart.

Hongjoong batted your hands away. Not wanting you to feel like he was throwing you out, he took the trash from your hands. “Let me-“

Your eyes met briefly and you wanted to scream at the soft look he gave you.

“Can I walk you the door?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

You took your stuff and followed him out. It seemed like he walked slower on purpose to draw out the moment of saying goodbye, trying the delay it as much as possible before wrapping his arms around you ever so carefully. It wasn’t different to when he had to pose for pictures with female idols, never quite touching you. Yet, it meant a lot.

“Don’t be stranger. I want keep talking with you…”

“I won’t.”

Taglist: @lelaleleb @roronoas-wife @vixensss @bakusatxuki

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@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 31: Free For All (I chose to interpret this as whatever I wanted to write, and so I chose innocence/corruption kink)

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤

| PAIRING(s):  Dave York x innocent!fem!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT:  7.1k | CONTENT: affectionate pervert catches feelings, dd/lg vibes sprinkled throughout, virginity loss, lots of firsts, inexperienced reader, religious trauma, feelings of shame/guilt/doubt, protective!Dave, he's still a smug asshole tho, soft dom daddy type shit, dacryphilia?, POV switching, sort of a loose time format in the progression of the story | SYNOPSIS: Your sense of identity finally fractures. Dave is there to help you learn who you really are.

"𝙱𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎; 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔, 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠. —　Ａｌｆｒｅｄ　Ｔｅｎｎｙｓｏｎ

“What if you’re– what do you do if you think you might not be a good person? I mean– how do you know if you’re a good person?”

You’d asked him this almost four months ago now. Trembling hands. Teeth gnawing at your pouty lips. Downturned eyes misted with tears. The irony of you asking him of all people about what makes someone good or not wasn’t lost on him. 

He wasn’t exactly the paragon of virtue given his extensive, murky past, but you didn’t know that. There seemed to be a lot of things you didn’t know. You were so unsure of yourself, having been practically sequestered by your religious zealot parents from being able to learn much of anything even if you wanted to.

 He’d answered truthfully that a lot of people had different ideas of what made somebody a good person, and there wasn’t really a clear-cut answer. Your face had drawn into even more of a confused, lost expression. Your entire life had been a black and white dichotomy of purity vs evil, dictated by some bullshit ancient text that the people screaming at you from the podium every Sunday probably didn’t even believe or adhere to themselves.

“I’m afraid I’m a bad person,” you’d admitted to him in a strained whisper.

He could tell you were genuinely afraid. Again, he was tactful but truthful in his response: from what he knew of you, he didn’t believe that you were a bad person, but it wasn’t really his or anyone else’s call to make. You’d nodded and appreciated his candor, but it didn’t stop you from crying.

He’d brought you into a pacifying embrace, softly stroking your back, and trying his damndest to not let you feel his cock quickly hardening. You were so helpless and sad and confused, and he knew he could be the anchor you so desperately sought. Something certain. Something unwavering to tether yourself to until you weren’t so scared of becoming your own person.

“I don’t care if you’re a good person or not.”

You’d blinked in silent confusion when he said it, not quite understanding how such a thing was possible.

“I mean it. I like when you’re around. I don’t care if you’re good or bad. I like you just how you are.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I do. And I think you like being around me, too.”

You’d nodded your head firmly at that, eyes flitting away in embarrassment to admit it. Your mouth parted so exquisitely when he’d gingerly gripped your chin to make you look at him again.

“Say it.”

“I like being around you,” you breathed. “You make things feel less confusing. It doesn’t–It doesn’t feel so scary all the time, if I’m with you.”

From then on he’d taken it slowly so as to not frighten you away. You needed him. You needed his help, his guidance. Despite being 22, your austere parents and strict upbringing had kept you from certain social and emotional milestones. You were crippled with the sort of self-doubt he’d expect in a freshman trying out for the varsity team.

You started lying to your parents about your whereabouts so you could see him more often. That was the first major hurdle to cross. The agony of being dishonest was something that truly unsettled you. Something seemed to click, though, when he’d told you that people should earn your trust and that it wasn’t something to just give away freely, even if they were your family.

He could see it in your eyes, the way they held his and danced, that you understood. Trust was to be earned and given – not demanded and taken. He left out the part of his thoughts about how maybe you shouldn’t trust him too much, either. 

You’d felt a magnetic pull to him – authoritative and sure of himself – from the moment you met. You were too scared to admit and act on all the thoughts you had about him. It was the same thoughts that had you lying awake at night in your childhood bedroom, sobbing and fearful of an eternity in hell for all the things you felt for him.

But then you’d see him again, and he was kind. He made you feel safe. He made your brain quiet in a way you’d never experienced. You didn’t feel scared to do or say the wrong thing constantly. You wished so badly that he could see you in the same way you saw him.

He never made passes at you. He saw you as some charity case, probably. You weren’t exactly knowledgeable about how to present yourself as a sexual person or if you even were one to begin with. 

The illustrations in the 70’s health textbook you’d rented from the library in eighth grade didn’t make you feel very much. It all looked confusing and strange. One passage even said it wasn’t expected for women to orgasm at the same rates men did. You certainly weren’t going to insert anything into yourself, and rubbing your palm against your clitoral hood like the book said felt overwhelming and like you were doing something bad. Your body felt like it belonged to someone else and you were violating it.

That same year you’d pecked a boy on the lips. Nothing. He’d told you that you were a bad kisser and left you to quietly cry over it. A few years later you tried again, knocking teeth with a different boy as you tried to mimic the tips in those teen girl magazines you read in a hurry at the grocery store, shoving it back onto the rack before your parents caught you reading such explicit things. Both times had left you wondering if you perhaps were meant for the nunnery. Maybe you weren’t even attracted to anybody. Maybe you should stop trying. Maybe your life was destined to be a sexless, holy sacrifice. 

Dave had obliterated all such suspicions. Your entire body felt like it was on fire the first time you were close to him. Your inhales were so heavy and short the first time he patted your bicep in a gesture of kindness that he’d asked if you were having trouble breathing.

When he found out you’d up and left your parents house, unable to take anymore of their suffocating judgment and rules, he tracked you down to the underfunded women and children’s shelter that you were staying at. You refused his offer of paying for you to stay somewhere, but you couldn’t hold out when he insisted your only other option was to come stay with him until you were back on your feet. While you knew it would never come down to him dragging you out of there, he still warned you he’d do it if he had to. Part of you considered resisting just to feel his big hands scoop you up and maneuver your body like a limp little doll.

It was beyond your wildest dreams that you would be staying under the same roof as him, even if you were in the bedroom down the hall. He’d been so stern with you but not in the way your parents always were. He wasn’t callous and lashing out because you were some massive failure. He was upset with you, sure, but it was because you hadn’t come to him first before running off to a rundown shelter without any real plan of what came next. He’d gone on and on about how it wasn’t safe and how you should’ve known better than to not reach out to him.

When you broke down in tears at having let him down so spectacularly, his face softened immediately. He consoled you, held you tight, until the tears dried up. Your body trembled from the stress of it all. That’s when he’d said your nickname for the first time: bunny.

“You’re shaking like a frightened little rabbit,” he’d noted. “My little frightened bunny. You don’t have to be scared anymore, bunny. You understand?”

You sniffed and nodded and burrowed deeper into his hold. He wasn’t mad at you. He wasn’t disappointed. He just cared about you a lot and wanted what was best for you. You followed his guidance like a lost little puppy, and it felt so good to have someone to trust with your life. He tucked you into bed every night, and you pouted when he closed the door. You didn’t want to be in here by yourself. You wanted to be in his room. With him. Together.

But you weren’t sure how to say those sorts of things or if the feelings even made sense. It felt like you didn’t know much of anything, but Dave was slowly changing that. Maybe one day he could help you with these confusing feelings, too.

He noticed how you squirmed on the couch, clearly distracted by something you wanted to say but couldn’t. It was something he’d been trying to work with you on. He was patient no matter how many times you stammered and stalled and chickened out of whatever it was you were trying to say. Sometimes it was as simple as saying what you wanted for dinner. Other times it was something else, something a little more intimate.

He saw the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Your body certainly responded to him even if you couldn’t vocalize it yet. You didn’t even understand the way you drove him crazy with your peaked nipples showing through a soft, loose t-shirt or the way your shorts rode up your pussy when you sat criss cross on the counter in the morning and watched him work.

He determined very quickly that he couldn’t just let you out of here. The world would chew you up and spit you out. It would ruin you and break you. Some other man would come along and take advantage of you. They wouldn’t treat you right, not like how he would treat you. You were safe here and moldable. He could help guide you into a different person, the kind of person you wanted to be but didn’t even know it yet.

“Something bothering you, bunny?”

Your eyes go wide like you’ve been caught red-handed. Your face was so easy to read he almost felt a little guilty using it to manage the conversation.

“No,” you lie.

He tilts his head and pins you with an unconvinced look. “There’s no need to lie. You can trust me, you know.”

As he predicted, you’re immediately apologetic and placating, assuring him that you do trust him. He lets you fester in the anxiety for a few beats before holding up a hand to signal you stop, which you do immediately.

“You’re alright. Don’t be nervous. You can tell me anything.”

You nibble on your lip and look down to your hands, picking at the dead skin along your fingernails.

“Stop picking at your skin and look at me when you speak,” he says firmly but not unkindly.

Your big round eyes slide up to meet his probing gaze. You hug your arms around yourself and sit up straighter. “Um. I just… I was… I’ve been getting scared at night,” you admit.

“Scared? You don’t have to be—”

“It feels scary to be alone in there,” you amend.

You do your best to meet his eye. He’d known for weeks now that you wanted to share his bed with him. As much as he liked the idea of your body slithering against his all night, it was the only time he had to keep a clear head. It was difficult at times to be patient with your personal growth. He didn’t want to rush things, and your ass rubbing against his morning wood wasn’t something he was sure he could resist.

“If it would help, I can stay with you after I tuck you in. Until you fall asleep,” he offers like he hadn’t already prepped for this exact scenario.

It’s obvious you hadn’t expected him to extend time together in the intimacy of your room, and he can’t help but mirror the big smile that brightens your entire face. Your mood is buoyant the entire day and through the evening, all the way through your nighttime routine. He sits on the side of the bed like he always does, looking down at your cozied body all snuggled inside the comforter. What he doesn’t expect is for you to ask for more.

“I’m kinda cold,” you say with weak conviction. “Do you think, um, that maybe you could, like, rub my arms really fast? You know, like, friction? To make me warmer?”

He sees right through the farce but wants to reward you for speaking up. “Of course,” he hums gently. He runs his hands on your biceps through the comforter in moderately paced passes and watches your face go a little lax, your eyes slightly hooded. He rubs up and down your legs for good measure and has to hold back a chuckle at the little sigh you let out. He really shouldn’t, but he presses a kiss to your forehead and cups your jaw.

“Better now? You warm, little bunny?” he coos.

You made a squeaky sort of yes sound, and he smiles warmly down at you.

Every night now he tucks you in, runs his hands over your body to “warm you up,” and gives you a little kiss on the forehead. He stays until you fall asleep, which is very difficult with how worked up you get from his hands being all over you, even if it’s through a plush comforter. After a whole week of it, you actually grow a little bit moody and agitated. Your body feels like static electricity and restless, like something needs to happen to help it calm down.

You have to apologize to Dave when you get short with him over not wanting to finish eating your strawberries. It makes between your legs feel even more warm and sticky when he informs you that you will be finishing your berries and hand feeds you each and every one until the bowl is empty. You take his fingers just inside your mouth on the last one, just to feel them and suckle the juice. His usually stoic face pinches for a split second, mouth dropping open a little.

You think you might start refusing berries more often if you got to feel his hands in your mouth again. 

It was bound to happen. Your soft knock on his bedroom door at two in the morning. The low whisper of his name until he acknowledged you. He taps his bedside light on and watches your eyes bug when you realize he’s shirtless.

“What’sa matter?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

Your long t-shirt dances across your bare thighs, no sleep shorts to be found. You fidget with your hands and move from foot to foot. “Can I please stay in here with you? Just for tonight? I won’t wake you up anymore. I just–I really need you, Dave.”

Your voice breaks on the last part, and he can’t send you back to your room like this, all agitated and nervous. He wordlessly lifts the blanket for you to join him, and you quickly crawl underneath it and whimper when he leans over you to turn out the light again.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers even though he already has a fairly good idea of what the “issue” is. When you don’t respond, he drives the conversation forward in a more pointed direction. “You wanna tell me why you aren’t wearing any sleep shorts?”

“I had to take them off,” you choke out.

“Your legs are gonna get col–”

He stops short when his hand grazes over your bare hip. You’re not wearing anything at all under your t-shirt.

“It was too tight down there. It was all achy, and I had to take everything off. It was so bad, Dave. It was hurting. I couldn’t stand it any longer,” you rush to explain, sounding on the verge of a genuine panic.

“You ever have that happen before?” he feels out.

“Yes,” you mumble quietly.

“And what did you do before to make it go away?”

“I.. had a pillow tucked in between, and… nothing happened. It sort of made it worse. Until it went away after a while.”

“Is that what you tried tonight? And it didn’t work?” he probes.

“I get it worse and worse since I’ve been here, Dave,” you sniffle. “It keeps happening, ever since you warm me up after tucking me in.”

“You poor thing,” he coos. “S’that why you’ve been taking so long to go to sleep?”

You make a pathetic little sound of affirmation and clutch at him. He angles his hips away so you can’t feel how hard this is making him.

“Well I think I know how to help, but I don’t want to scare you.”

“I need your help, Dave. Please.”

He’s grateful for the cover of darkness to obscure his wolfish grin. “Have you ever made yourself come before, bunny?”

You whimper and tell him no but that you’ve tried. How your mind gets filled with shame and eternal damnation and fear. How you’re ashamed that you can’t even help yourself, like you don’t even know your own body. How helpless you feel. He calms you down and explains how he’s here to help you. You thank him endlessly, little errant tears finally drying up.

“I’m gonna help you tonight, bunny, but we’ll need to discuss it in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

He turns your back to him and pulls you flush against his chest. You startle at the feeling of his hard cock nudging at the swell of your ass through his sweatpants.

“Dave,” you whisper, nearly hoarse with nerves and fright.

“You’re okay,” he reassures you. “That’s just something that happens when a man is around a beautiful woman.”

“I don’t— I’m not ready for—” You start to sound panicked. This wasn’t how he was going to fuck you for the first time. For your first time. He wanted to savor every step of this. No rushing. He wanted to take you apart piece by piece until your body responded to his every word, every movement. His perfect little thing.

“Ssshh, it’s okay. It’s gonna stay where it is, okay? You might feel it because you’re pressing against it, but it’s not coming out today, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe in a sigh of relief.

“You don’t ever have to be nervous with me, bunny. You don’t have to be scared anymore. Not here.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle.

He whispers in your ear every small touch before he does it so you’re not surprised. He taps the light on again so he can see your face when he makes you come for the first time. It doesn’t take long, just a few delicate circles against your soaked clit. You’re bucking and crying and trying to hold onto him as you experience it all for the first time. You thrash around until you’re facing him, and then you wrap your entire body around him and hold on for dear life.

He smiles against your temple, tells you how wonderful you did, how beautiful you are. He ignores his erection, so tight and hard that it’s painful, until you fall asleep. He takes care of it in the bathroom before slipping back into bed with you. There’s no going back now.

It was the best night of your life. It was the best sleep of your life. You woke up to Dave reading news articles on his phone, waiting patiently for you to wake up. Your body was clamped to his like you might float away if you didn’t hold on tight enough. He didn’t make you feel embarrassed about anything. He just asked how you were feeling and if you were feeling better, if he had helped you at all. You assured him he had and thanked him a million times over.

When you talked about what had happened, he asked that you always let him know if you were feeling like that so he could help you. So, you did. Every night for the next four nights. Then it happened during the day, just after breakfast on the couch. He was slower that time. More methodical. More watchful. Trying out new ways to help you.

“No, don’t think about it. Keep your eyes on me and focus on how it makes you feel,” he instructs with a firmness that had you complying within seconds.

His fingertips are wide and heavy on your tongue. Saliva is starting to pool and stick to his fingers. You grasp at his wrist with both hands to bridge the gap between your bodies.

“Good. That’s good. Keep going.”

You lift the tip of your tongue and let the heft of his fingers weigh it down. Without thinking, you gently suckle. Dave’s eyes grow dark and focused, and it makes you suckle again and harder.

“There you are,” he breathes. “Just focus right here – focus on me.”

You whine at the encouragement, eyes feeling heavy and fogged, and split his fingers with your tongue. Your mouth hangs open with the movement, and he takes the opportunity to slowly rub his fingers back and forth along your gums.

“You like the way I feel in your mouth, bunny?”

The double meaning is nearly lost on you, but your cheeks burn with the confusing need his ambiguous, suggestive question drowns you in. Your brows scrunch in concentration. You pull his fingers out of your mouth just enough to answer.

“I like you in my mouth,” you whisper. “It feels good. You feel good. You make me feel good.”

He hums a lazy acknowledgement, draws his fingers back together, and slides them back into your mouth on the span of your tongue. “Suck.”

You oblige with a tentative suction that grows stronger with a few pulls.

“Good. That’s so good, bunny. You’re such a good girl for me.”

I can be good for you echoes in a scream inside your head.

As if every thought is plastered onto your forehead, Dave coos, “I know you want to be so good for me, don’t you? I know you can be such a good girl just for me, isn’t that right?”

A crackly moan gets stuck in your throat as you mindlessly bob your head in agreement.

“I wanna see just how much you like it.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth until they release with a soft slurping pop. His hands are already pushing the hem of your nightgown up your thighs like some theater curtain rising to debut the show.

“I’m gonna give her a little kiss, okay?”

You don’t have time to process what he means before his hot mouth is pursed around your clit. You fall apart in record time, overwhelmed with how there was something else that could feel so good. He never stopped making you feel so good.

You can’t stop thinking about more. You worked up the nerve to ask Dave if there were books or websites you could use to learn about sex and intimacy. He always found you the perfect article and even read it to you. Everything was handpicked by him and explained without making you feel dumb. Just hearing him say the words aloud was enough to get you going. It was mostly information about what things were called or how exactly things worked, but he made it sensual nonetheless.

Dave snores softly next to you, but you’re wide awake. The electric pull to have him do more to you made it difficult to sleep last night. You’re not even sure how to ask for it. You’re not even sure what more means in the grand scheme of things. You just know that following his words and whims felt safe and warm and intoxicating. You want him to show you more. You want to be good for him again. He finally stirs awake, and you immediately pounce.

“I-I can’t – couldn’t really sleep last night. I- Can I be good for you again?”

A sleepy, self-satisfied smile creeps onto his features. “Of course, bunny. You’re always good for me.”

You exhale a deep breath that had been lodged in your chest. Every time he spoke felt like a warm blanket wrapping around you, making you snug and safe.

He rubs his eyes and sits up against the headboard. A funny expression crosses his face just before he asks if you want to “see him.” He tilts his head, motioning to his groin.

You gulp but tell him yes. It’s unnerving, but you’re already getting wet just seeing the outline of his cock against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Take it out,” he says softly.

You swallow hard again but tug his waistband down, flinching when the heft of him smacks against his stomach.

“Go on and give it a kiss,” he says, low and secret. Just something special between the two of you.

You eye his hard cock with hesitance, knowing full well that you were supposed to somehow fit this thing in your mouth eventually. It was oral sex – a “blowjob” according to the sites you and Dave had been looking at – but you weren’t sure how to do anything, even with your readings.

“Just a little kiss, bunny,” he encourages, holding it firmly at the base in his big hand that makes it look a little less imposing. “Just like how you had my fingers in your mouth. And look at me when you do it.”

You hold his eye as you sink down between his legs. He rubs the head across your soft lips and groans when the tip of your tongue sneaks out to taste it. It smells warm and masculine, so very much Dave. Something about that is comforting and makes you less nervous.

You kiss it like the first time you kissed his mouth. You try to remember how you intuitively suckled his fingers and replicate the movements. Seeing him experience pleasure because of something you were doing was like a drug. His breath hitched as you wrapped your lips around the head, and you wanted to hear that gorgeous sound on repeat until the end of time. You don’t get as long as you’d like, but he explains that you’re making him feel so good he worries he might come too soon.

You feel hot all over when he tells you to prop yourself up against the headboard and spread yourself open for him. You hold your pussy lips apart, just like he said, and watch him tug on his cock. You might be able to do that for him one day soon, you think. You study the movements so you can use them, too, like a cheat code. Your breath stills when he jerks his load all over your spread out pussy. The warm trickle of it drips down and splashes onto your thighs. It feels nice.

“C’mere,” he grunts the moment he’s done spilling all over you. 

He lays down again and hauls you over to sit on his belly, thighs hugging his torso. His cum smacks and sticks against his skin where your pussy is seated against him.

“Rub yourself on me,” he orders. 

He braces his hands on your hips and starts guiding you to rock back and forth. You rest your hands on top of his and try to follow his motion. The friction feels nice, something vulgar and sensuous about wriggling around with his cum plastered all over your privates.

“Lemme see you come, just like this,” he rasps.

You try and try, but you can’t bring yourself to climax. You’re growing more frustrated by the minute that you can’t come. You feel aroused. You want to come. Your brain is holding you hostage yet again. As usual, Dave takes notice of your internal struggles.

“Can’t get there on your own, hm?” he asks with a tone dripping in amusement and arrogance.

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed but mostly worked up.

“Aw, no? That’s what I’m here for. I’ll help you feel good, bunny. Just ask really nice for it, and I’ll make you feel good.”

“I need you to make me feel good,” you whine. “Please. I can’t do it. I need you to make me feel good, Dave. Please.” 

He keeps one hand on your hips and pushes for you to rock faster. His other hand snakes between your folds and plays with your clit.

“So good for me.”

You come undone, rocking yourself back and forth through the rhythmic spasm of your walls. You’re panting still when he swipes two fingers beneath your entrance and scoops up the mixture of fluids. He holds it in front of your face, and you think you know what he wants you to do. You suckle his fingers and swallow down the mixture. It’s bitter and tangy and earthy. Not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted, but the texture is strange. He repeats the act and tells you not to swallow. It’s thick on your tongue, your mouth flooded now. 

“Open your mouth.”

You aren’t sure why he’d want you to do that when he’s just filled your mouth, but you trust him.

“Wider. Let it drip out.”

You roll your tongue forward, sending your spit and mixed fluids over the edge of your lip and dripping down your chin and onto your chest. He watches you with a restrained fire and smears it across your chest. You buck at the sensation when he thumbs your nipple.

“So sensitive,” he says quietly, almost to himself.

“Sorry.”

His eyes flick up to yours at the shame laced apology. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re so good for me. You did everything so well for me, bunny.”

You smile shyly at the encouragement. He always knows just what to say.

He was practically toying with you now. Every little thing was new to you, and every little thing made you a pliant, responsive mess for him. You were eager in a way that made him feel young again. Your mood had improved significantly since you moved in with him. You didn’t say unkind things about yourself as frequently. You were learning how to ask for the things you wanted. You were speaking with confidence and holding your head a little higher.

You were over the moon at the most basic things, to the point that it almost aggravated him that you had been given so little before you met him. You deserved so many things. You looked beautiful at the special little dinner he’d arranged for your birthday. You cried over your gift – a small, unused corner of the house that he’d fashioned into a little makeshift library with two plush seats and a small table for coffees and teas and snack cakes.

You loved reading. Mostly classic romance novels, but some surprising choices as well, like murder mysteries and thrillers. You never got to read much of what you wanted to growing up, but those kinds of rules didn’t apply here. He listened to you relay the stories to him, holding back a laugh when you told him all about the scary hitman villain from your most recent read.

“And he’s-he’s, like, an assassin, you know? And, oh my gosh, I know he’s supposed to be bad and everything, but I think it’s so… I actually sort of like how he’s just so good at being bad, you know? He’s an expert in all kinds of stuff. That’s how he doesn’t get caught. It’s just, UGH. It’s so good! He sounds kinda handsome, too. From the description and all. Do you think they made it into a movie? Could we see if they made it into a movie, Dave? And watch it?”

He likes to think that if you knew the real him that you wouldn’t care if he was good or bad, either. Just like he didn’t care if you were good or bad. Although, you were most decidedly good through and through. He encouraged you to write. It was a good outlet for you, he thought. You weren’t even shy about reading your little stories to him. He thinks about your next birthday and having your stories bound by a professional bookshop.

You’re leaning over the counter reading again when he comes up behind you and curves his wide hands along the front of your thighs. He rests his head beside yours to keep your eyes straight ahead. You shiver and sigh when he rubs the folds of your pussy lips, one each between his middle and pointer fingers. He holds them while he wedges his fingers together, softly pinching your clit.

“Keep yourself up, bunny,” he purls.

He’s setting you up for failure. He knows your legs are already trembling. They’ll give way when you come, and he’ll be there to catch you and steady you. Your entire body shakes as you climax, and your balance slips just like he knew it would.

“Poor baby can’t even stand up once I get my hands on her,” he breathes in a laugh.

You shoot him a pouty look, and he can’t help but grin.

Another lazy, dreamy evening together. It was supposed to be bedtime, but then you’d started grinding on his thigh and things devolved from there. He holds you from behind and alternates between fucking you with his fingers and palm hitting your clit with small, quick pussy slaps. You buck and gasp, not entirely sure if you are enjoying it or not.

“What a messy little pussy,” he groans in your ear. “So wet I had to give it a little spanking.”

Your breath trembles when he starts talking. His words shut down your brain and put you into your body, hyper aware of every sensation. You swear you feel more arousal drool out of you.

“Yeah, I feel how much wetter this pretty cunt is getting just from being spanked.” He pulls his hand out and slaps your clit again, drawing a loud moan from you. He laughs under his breath at your reactivity.

He gives one harsh slap and immediately presses all four fingers flat against your clit and starts wiggling back and forth in a blur. You come hard and loud. 

He flips you on your back and spreads you open, rubbing his dick between your engorged lips.

“Fuck me,” he groans. “Look at these lips, all fat and wet from being spanked.” He presses them tight around his cock, and you whine at the overstimulation. He shushes you gently. “Be good for me. Be a good girl and let me fuck this puffy pussy.”

He thrusts lazily through the envelope of your swollen lips, pulling away at the very last second to spill all over your stomach. He feeds it to you, and you readily suck his fingers clean. He smiles when you open your mouth to show him you swallowed it all down.

The shame creeps up again after you use the bathroom and join Dave at the sink where you brush your teeth together every night. You’re quiet,  feeling conflicted about how you enjoyed him popping his hand against your privates and talking about them so crudely, almost like he was using your body solely for his own pleasure. You feel guilty and like you shouldn’t have enjoyed it. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” he notes.

Your eyes go wide. You were so lost in your thoughts you’d almost forgotten he was there. You shrug and brush your teeth for an excuse to stall. Even when you’re done you struggle to keep eye contact. “Was what happened earlier okay?”

He tenses, and you think he might misunderstand what you meant. Like maybe  you were upset about how he’d treated you.

“Did you feel uncomfortable with what I was doing? You wish I hadn’t done it?”

“No, it’s not that,” you insist. You chew your bottom lip and try to not let the waves of guilt consume you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” he demands, firm but not unkind. “And look at me when you answer.”

Your misted eyes find his, and his expression morphs into a softer, consoling expression. 

“Is it bad I liked it?” you ask, each word stumbling from your tongue.

“Is it bad you liked what?”

“When you… how you were .. touching me… sl-slapping it.. down there,” you practically whisper, feeling mortified and childish and unsure of yourself.

“Did it feel good?”

You nod.

“Then it’s not bad that you liked it.”

“But.. why did I… why did I like it?”

“You’re feeling ashamed because you liked it? You think you shouldn’t enjoy something like that?”

You sniff and nod. He pulls you close to him.

“When two people trust each other, there’s all sorts of ways you can explore and push boundaries. Sometimes you find a hard limit, and other times you find what you thought was the limit ended up being flexible and changeable.”

“What does that mean, though?”

He cups your face and tilts it back for you to fully look at him. “It means, bunny,” he says, steadfast and confident, “that you don’t have to accept what you thought were your limits. You’re free to learn and feel new things.”

“So why do I feel … why do I feel so guilty?”

“Because you’re unlearning all the lies you were told your entire life. That you should be ashamed about anything that makes you happy or makes you feel good.”

“Yeah…..” you concede.

He cradles your face and noses your forehead. “You’re experiencing all these new things with me. It’s good to learn what you like and what makes you feel good. I told you that’s what I’m here for. I’m here to take care of you, to make you feel good. To keep you safe and happy.”

You clear your throat and sniff away the emotion building up. “So I’m not a bad person for liking it?”

He smiles that lazy, arrogant way that makes your heart flutter. “No, bunny. You’re my good girl, remember? And good girls get to be nasty sometimes and get away with it. You can be bad when I let you, hm? You like when I let you be nasty, don’t you?”

Your cheeks burn with arousal and embarrassment. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“And you do such a good job being a nasty little slut for me.”

You gasp at the name, thighs rubbing together instinctively for reasons you still haven’t begun to understand.

He smirks at your reaction. “See, sweet girl? You know how much I like you being nasty for me. And it makes your little pussy all wet, doesn’t it?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pushes his hand between your legs and parts them so he can rub between your folds. He groans at the slick already pooling there. 

“I know what you need, bunny. I know how you need to be shown all the ways your body can feel good, and I care about you so much that I’m gonna do just that.”

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, eyes drifting closed at the feeling of his hand working you slowly.

“Thank you for what?” he fishes.

“Thank you for letting me be good for you and for being your... your nasty little slut.”

“Good girl,” he praises emphatically. “Now come for me.”

His fingers press hard against your nub and rub vigorously back and forth, and your orgasm barrels through your lower belly.

“It’s not gonna fit,” you worry. “It’s too big. It’s not gonna fit in me.”

He’d worked you open for the better part of half an hour, but you were still nervous.

“Sshh shh, I know, I know,” he soothes. “That’s why you have to learn to take it. You have to be such a good girl for me and learn how to take it.”

He braces himself above you, notching himself at your entrance, and breaches the opening. You moan and whine and claw at him to be closer to you. You hiss when he gets the head inside, and he pauses to let you adjust. Wet kisses all along your neck and collarbone. Whispers of praise and encouragement. You finally relax again, and he feeds a little more of his cock to you.

He makes it about halfway when you gasp and clench at the sting. He waits, ever patient and soothing. He’s waited this long to be your first. He can wait a few more moments while you attempt to accommodate the size of him. He watches your face contort as you struggle to take him in.

“Is-Is it in all the way yet?” you squeak.

“Just a few more inches,” he promises, not even trying to conceal his smirk.

You start to protest as to how that’s even possible, but he cuts you off with a deep kiss. The weight of him stretching and pushing against your walls burns and delights all the same, and you’re a whiny mess when he finally bottoms out. He fucks you slow, talking almost the whole way through. Never letting you get wrapped up in your own head. Never letting you forget that you’re his and he would never, ever let anything happen to you.

He stops when you ask him to. He starts again when you ask him to. He works your nipple between his teeth, your clit with his thumb, and sinks in and out of you in tandem. The feeling of coming on his cock is entirely different than his mouth or even his fingers. His name leaves your lips in a song of praise and reverence. You suck his thumb when he places it on your tongue, a comforting thing while he pistons into you a little harder, a little faster.

He’s invaded every part of you, every sense overwhelmed with him him him.

“You want me to make you all warm inside, bunny? Give her something to drink for her very first time?” he husks.

You nod, all dopey and fucked out, sucking his thumb harder and harder. You watch with half-lidded eyes as his mouth drops open, brows all furrowed, never losing tempo as his hips crash into you, finally stuttering as his release starts to flood your insides. He stays inside you even past when he’s gone soft. You don’t want to lose any part of him. Don’t want to be separated from him in any way.

He snuggles you close in bed, nuzzling your neck and ear. “My perfect little bunny. You did so well. Knew you’d do so well for me.”

“I always wanna be yours,” you say in a hush.

“You’ve been mine this whole time, bunny,” he chuckles. “Mine all mine.”

tagging people who previously expressed interest:

@guiltyasdave @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @bonezone44 @angiewatson

@for-a-longlongtime @drunk-and-capable @604to647 @beardedjoel @quinnnfabrgay-writes

@umnitsa @youmeand5bucks @toxicrecs @syd-djarin @mothandpidgeon

@indiegirlunited @sizzlingcloudmentality @ghotifishreads @bubble-pop-eclectic

[absolutebl]

hi!!! do you have favorite bl movies (maybe with happy endings too)?👀❤️

Top 10 BL Movies

(as of end of 2024, in no particular order)

My personal favorites will always have HEAs (or at least HFN). I don't love ambiguous endings and I hate sad ones. I'm going to include the Korean stuff that has been recut as movies, because I can.

1 Seven Days

Japan 2015

AKA Seven Days: Monday-Thursday AND Seven Days: Friday-Sunday

This is a cheat as it's 2 movies, but that's still less run time than your bog standard marvel tent pole these days, so it counts.

One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes. The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

2 Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine

AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? AKA Vending Machine Sabi Koi

Japan 2023

This movie is utterly adorable, impossibly awkward, and kinda old fashioned. About a cute nerdy little office worker (he's out!) who has a big'ol crush on the tall hulking vending machine guy. They fall in love. And that’s it. And it’s charming. There’s some first name eroticism (because Japan) and there's emphasis on communication (so not Japan) which turns this into an organically loving and talkative relationship. There’s a bit of an age gap and our office cutie may or may not have a muscles fetish (the hot bod, not the shellfish) because (if I’ve told you once I’ve told you 1 million times) Japan always goes kinky. And you know what, I loved it.

3 Restart After Come Back Home

AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de

Japan 2020

Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning.

4 His

Japan 2020

His is about being a grown adult and still struggling with coming out. It addresses the consequences choosing a life disingenuous to identity. Nagisa turns up on Shun’s doorstep with his precocious daughter in tow. This is a touch confusing to Shun since they were each others first love and Nagisa broke his heart. Shun has retreated from society, rejecting the world before it can reject him because without Nagisa he never had a reason to fight. Nagisa went the opposite, pretending to be something he was not, ending up with a daughter he adores and a wife who hates him. This movie is beautiful and the setting is unique and interesting but I'm not wild about the ending, it's HFN (happy for now). Honestly, I think I mostly liked this because I have a mad crush on Miyazawa Hio (Shun).

5 After Sundown

AKA Saengrawi

Thailand 2023

It's from Mandee and horror (neither really my thing), yet I liked it. It's oddly sweet and wholesome, for a ghost story. Phloeng and Rawee enter into an arranged marriage for confusing prophetic reasons. Twists of fate demand that they solve the mystery of a past that is haunting Phloeng's family and harming Rawee. Honestly, it makes no actual sense, but it's kinda historical, and very pretty, so I enjoyed it more than I should.

Korean BL that aired as shows but are cut together as movies & great

In some of these cases the movies are better than the originals, in some they are exactly the same.

6 Color Rush

2021

A unique paranormal twist elevates this classic high school drama into a pitch-perfect allegory for the queer coming out experience and one of the best BLs of all time (I will fight you on this).

7 Semantic Error

2022

The ultimate enemies to lovers, also the prettiest. Sexy older boy discovers pouty younger boy has outed him as a slacker, starts out bullying him, accidentally falls madly in love instead. Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks by doing a university BL with everything we expect from BL just done exactly right. Korea's signature quality executed perfectly with added bonus good story, great pacing, stunning visuals, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL.

8 To My Star

2021

Hwang Da Seul directing this show about a neurotic actor (actual puppy) who takes refuge with a grumpy chef resulting in sparks, cooking lessons, and LOVE! It’s is a touch quirky to get into, but utterly charming once it hits its stride. This is the ultimate grumpy/sunshine pairing plus the most appealing light-filled kitchen of our dreams. I adore this show so much. Limited use of BL tropes makes this feel more of a sweet contemporary gay romance between an actor plagued by scandal and the chef who accidentally adopts him, but the gentleness will appeal to fans of the BL genre.

9 Long Time No See

2017

This originally aired as a series but I have only ever seen it as a movie. So I'm counting it.

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes, and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blood (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the greatest hidden gems of the BL genre.

10 Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart

2020

Set in the music industry featuring a talented singer and the pianist who falls in love with him (and his music), this is subtle and achingly adorable. High production, low heat, short run, very tame, and Korea, so all the pretty. Slow burn and lots of pining.

(source)

[mariyekos]

So in the Visions of V Manga, when kid Vergil's attacked he specifically shouts "Demons?!" and is confused why they're there, wanting to warn Dante and Eva about it. Since he seems immediately certain about what his attackers are, this to me says that Vergil was already aware of the existence of demons even before the attack occurred. But in DMC3, when Cerberus asks Dante if he's human, Dante responds "Who knows? I'm not even sure myself" which implies to the point of pretty much outright stating he's not sure of his heritage and thus that he's part demon.

Do people think Eva/Sparda told Vergil and only Vergil about the existence of demons because of some sort of "older brother" responsibility? Or do you think Eva/Sparda told both Dante and Vergil that demons existed, but just didn't tell them (or only didn't tell Dante, which seems messed up and less likely) that they were half demon themselves? Why does kid Vergil not seem shocked that demons exist while teen Dante isn't even sure he's part demon himself? Retcon/inconsistency, or some combination of the above?

EDIT: Thank you to @/astronomiaa for mentioning the bit in Before the Nightmare! I'd forgotten about it. In BTN Dante mentions getting sword lessons from his father, but knowing very little about him otherwise, and not knowing (or even suspecting) that Sparda was a demon. These are the four main scenarios I see coming from that:

Neither kid knew demons existed because Sparda taught them to fight and that was it,

Dante didn't know demons existed while Vergil did, but neither suspected their dad was a demon,

Both kids knew demons existed but (at least Dante) didn't suspect their dad was a demon

Theoretical fourth where Dante knows nothing and Vergil knows everything (or at least that Sparda was a demon) which could've helped guide Vergil's research where Dante just kind of lived and ran, which would make sense but is also reeeeally questionable parenting because guys your kids can't be more than a few hours apart at absolute most stop shoving so much responsibility on the older one! He might only be older by a few minutes!!!! He's 8 (eight) (or younger depending on when they told him!!!)!!!!!! That's yoo young for you to decide he can shoulder that entire burden oh my god!!!!!

Again, since Vergil's doesn't have some sort of "what the hell are these things" moment I do want to say that at least he knew demons existed, but that's not a guarantee. It could just be a situation where a kis goes "of course monsters are real!" because it makes sense and they've read scary stories rather than one where said kid's parents actually sat him down to tell him monsters/demons were Real (And potentially Out To Get Them). But it would be really interesting if Sparda and Eva gave him more information than they did Dante, especially when you consider that means Dante might've watched his life be torn apart by creatures he didn't know existed until they destroyed everything he knew and loved.

Sources/Pics of what I'm referencing under the cut.

Visions of V:

DMC3:

EDIT: Before the Nightmare

The sepia/top picture is the newer version floating around the internet, while the bottom is the old translation.

[googleitlol]

Aaaah, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with all these asks, but I have to know this! How would Black Myth Wukong go with Dove in it, considering the story? Especially with what happened to the original Wukong and her potential interactions with the Destined One?

OOOOOOOH THIS ONE IS INTERESTING!! Also, don't ever apologise for giving me asks to answer, I love yapping so you're doing me a favour. Also I hope you know the vault of angst and depression you just opened

Ok so just letting you know, I have two different endings for PoM I may go with: a happy ending… and a less happy ending. Since I'm already feeling depressed, I'm gonna answer this as though the less happy ending is what happens. In it, Dove gains immortality (but for reasons I won't disclose yet) and is separated from everyone forever, including Wukong. He can't even try to save her because, well… spoilers.

I know the basics of the game lore so sorry if I get anything wrong/misunderstand anything, but this is how I think it'd go. Also, spoilers under the cut for Black Myth Wukong.

TW: Suicide

So from my understanding, the Destined One isn't technically Wukong, but he inherits his memories by the end of the game. With that in mind, I see this going similar to what I've seen of Wukong finding a reincarnated reader, but reversed.

Dove eventually escapes the place she is trapped in, but by the time she makes it back to Flower Fruit Mountain to find Sun Wukong… the worst has already happened. Erlang is the one who tells her how Sun Wukong ended his life, his final plan to free himself from the Heaven's grasp.

Before being separated, Dove had already learned some hard truths from Guan Yin about events concerning her past. Learning about what her master had been keeping secret from her, and then the relief of seeing her love again being crushed by the reality of his suicide, it breaks her. She had spent years fighting to get back to her Peaches, to the one that she could always depend on. He was with her when she learned about Guan Yin's secrets, they had to drag him away from her the day they were separated– it hits her then, the last moment she ever saw him was when he was in pain, clawing at demons that pulled him further away from her. The last she ever saw of those beautiful sunset eyes… they were filled in anguish and rage.

After learning of Sun Wukong's fate, Dove grows bitter and cold. She doesn't return to Potalaka Mountain– she can't stand to be in the presence of any of the deities anymore, not even the one who raised her. Who lied to her. Moksa checks in on her every now and then, from a distance, she won't talk to him either. It's a pitiful sight, how she becomes a shell of her former self. Dove cuts contact with nearly everyone and travels the road on her own, helping people where she can, but no task she does is ever enough to distract her from that emptiness that takes root inside. It's painful, and no matter how hard she tries, that pain won't go away.

Then, by chance, she comes across a monkey demon.

Confusion is the first word that comes to mind when describing her reaction to seeing the Destined One for the first time. Maybe her mind is just playing tricks on her again… but this doesn't feel like she's seeing things. He feels real. Dove has already gone through the emotional ups and downs of meeting a reincarnated loved one before, but this is different. It's different because it's Sun Wukong. There has never been another like him.

She does suppose the same holds true once she spends more time with the Destined One, he isn't like Sun Wukong. He's more… stoic. He doesn't say much, and compared to the talkative Monkey King, it's a little unnerving at first. Is this really the person she loves? It's a question she struggles with as she goes through the game with him, helping him. Travelling with the Destined One, it's almost reminiscent of the original journey. That's what Dove tells herself, anyway.

Whether or not it really is him, it's safe to say any reincarnated/reborn Monkey King would be falling for Dove pretty hard. I'm still figuring out how the Destined One would be around her at first, maybe he's a little put off by this strange immortal woman who decided to tag along with him. She's helpful, so he doesn't mind the company, but that doesn't stop him from wondering why she's with him. Maybe there's one night where she's helping him recover from a serious fight, probably scolding him for something reckless he did as she works her magic and all he can do is frown. Why does she care so much about him?

Whether he can understand her motives or not, he does appreciate it. Having another person to face these hardships with, someone who has his back through the toughest battles and his lowest moments, he's never had that before. Or maybe, it's just something he's missed. It's strange, how she is able to comfort him. Not just because of her tranquil power, it isn't necessarily her calming aura that puts his mind to rest… there's something deeper, something that tugs at his chest and pulls him to her. This longing to be near her.

He wants to know more, ask why she's so intent on helping him, but Dove is good at avoiding questions, she's constantly guarded around him. The Destined One likely wouldn't pry as much as Wukong would in this situation, but his curiosity still kills him inside. Instead of getting his answers from her, he starts finding the answers in his head, with educated guesses. Maybe Dove was just so awe-struck by his handsomeness that she decided to help him in any way she can, on the spot. He liked that theory 😏

As their journey continues, they do warm up to each other more. Maybe they pass through a village in the midst of a celebration and Dove manages to convince the Destined One to dance with her. Sun Wukong did the same for her all those years ago. Maybe one night after setting up camp for the night, the Destined One begins to comb through her hair, not thinking too much of it since it's normal for other monkeys to preen through one another's hair, it's a show of his affection.

Dove is usually so guarded, but in that moment her walls come crumbling down. She tries to push down her silent sobs, but it's difficult. Sun Wukong was the last person to go through her hair like this, and the simple action brings back so many fond memories. When he realises she's crying, he stops but she grabs his hand before he can fully pull away.

"Don't stop, please. It's okay, I'm… I'm okay."

Maybe he pulls her close after that, holding her in his arms as she does the same. There's so much pain in her heart, and all he wants is to take it away. The only question is, how?

By the end of the game where the Destined One gains all of Wukong's memories, so many of Dove's actions become clear to him. She can see in his eyes when he looks at her, a new hint recognition in his features as she realises who she really is, who she was to Sun Wukong.

Even by this point, Dove is conflicted over her feelings for the Destined One. She's come to love him throughout their journey, but is it the same love? Or is there some part of her brain convincing her it has to be the same, that this is the same man she fell in love with. Does she love this new Monkey King, or the memory he represents?

If one thing is for certain, the Destined One is confident in his feelings for her. Even before receiving those memories, he had been falling for Dove with every moment they spent together. If anything, these memories only make his love for her stronger, knowing what they've been through in a past life, how she stayed by him through this new journey because of their past.

…But he can't be sure whether she feels the same. Not when he still doesn't know if he is Sun Wukong, or just holds his memories now. It's something they'd have to work through and figure out together, but one thing is for certain. Dove doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

[bad268]

All I Ever Wanted (Logan Sargeant X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, Happy Valentine's Day! (Question tho, would anyone be interested if I started writing for James Harvey Blair? I love him and I've been thinking about it...)

Warnings: Mentions cruise ships and Titanic (italics are story fillers)

Pronouns: Second POV (you/your)

W.C. 1759

Summary: Wanted by Hunter Hayes

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Logs, I think you’re forgetting something,” You laughed, holding up his phone just before he left. You were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, spending some time together before he needed to head out for testing, and the day finally came when he needed to leave. He was running around the apartment like a chicken with his head cut off all because he asked for five more minutes. Well, five minutes turned into ten and before you knew it, he had an hour before his flight time. “You’d fall apart without me.”

“You’re right,” he laughed as he came back over to grab the phone and leaned over the back of the couch to give you a kiss before whispering, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I don’t know how you remember everything.”

“All in the job, I guess,” You joked as you pulled him back down, quickly giving him one last kiss before pushing him away. “Now go before James has my head for you not making your flight!”

~

This was a normal occurrence, but you would not change it for the world. Being able to help with even the most mundane things made you feel wanted, and that’s all Logan ever wanted. Having met in his karting days and got together during his F3 campaign, you were by his side through everything, and he needed you to know how much you mean to him.

~

”Can I get your help with this?” Logan asked as he walked into the Prema garage with his tablet. It was early on in your relationship, having gotten together only a few months prior, so this was technically your first race weekend as his significant other. Not that it really mattered, the crew treated you the same as always, but they did give you two more alone time than you remembered them giving. This allowed for Logan to have a little more freedom when it came to retreating into the backrooms at random times throughout the day. That came in handy for times like this as he showed you what he was struggling with on the tablet. “I can’t figure it out.

“It’s the track layout? What exactly do you need my help with?” You were genuinely confused. It was simply the layout of the track, nothing more nothing less. “I’d love to help, I just don’t understand the question.”

“Is this a right or left turn?” He asked in the same tone as he pointed at turn 3. You looked at the tablet and up at him a few times with wide eyes before answering him.

“Are you joking?” You asked in disbelief. If he was faking, you would not have known because even his eyes showed confusion toward the layout. You sighed, “It’s a long right-hander, Logs.”

“I know, but thanks for confirming,” he laughed, pulling you into his side as he kissed the crown of your head.

~

It became something the fans looked forward to. Especially during practice sessions because he was not always in the car and the cameras would always pan over to the two of you.

~

One day, in particular, it was raining. Typical Spa weather, but for once, the FIA made the right decision to delay the qualifying session due to the amount of rain. There were ever-growing puddles around the track, and it was not safe for them to go out and drive.

It was also cold, something you knew about Spa but clearly did not think the temperature would drop as drastically as it did when the rain started falling. That’s what the camera spotted when it panned over to the Williams garage. You and Logan were cuddled together under a tyre blanket as you two looked over the data from the practice session. 

“And here we have the crowd-favorite couple of Logan Sargeant and Y/n L/n,” Alex said over the live feed that was being broadcasted to all of the viewers. “Is that a tyre blanket around their shoulders?”

“I think it is,” Pietro Fittipaldi, who was guest starring in the commentary box, laughed. You looked away from the data momentarily, and you see the broadcast zooming in on you and Logan. You nudged his side and pointed at the screen, making him laugh and pull you closer to his side.  He gave you a small kiss on your lips, giving the viewers a show. You turned your head toward the camera afterward and smirked as you waved at it. Then, you turned your attention back to the screen just as it played on the screen and Pietro shouted, “We’ve been caught!”

~

Logan made it his mission to make you feel wanted. And he was willing to fight from the trenches against assholes online for you. He would do anything for you.

~

“What’s with that face?” Logan asked as he walked into the kitchen to grab a snack. It was during one of the brief breaks he had, so he decided to go back to your shared apartment. You were sitting at the counter, looking at your phone. Specifically, it was a recent post from the Williams Instagram that had a picture of you and Logan, and the comments on the post were not-so-nice at best. He leaned over your shoulder to see exactly what it was and immediately took your phone out of view. “What did I say about reading hate?”

“It’s hard not to when it’s everywhere,” you sighed, leaning back into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he leaned his head against your shoulder, looking at the side of your face.

“Well, you know who’s opinion matters? Not theirs. Who even are they?” Logan answered, trying to make you laugh. “Jealous, that’s what they are. You are pretty and get to travel the world. These guys are chronically online, so they have nothing on you.”

“You’re pretty too, y’know,” you chuckled halfheartedly, still trying to forget what was said in the comments. “But your pretty is deeper than the surface. Your personality is pretty.”

“Glad to know you find my personality pretty because yours is prettier,” Logan jokingly flirted as he placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder. “Those people have clearly never heard your collection of dad jokes.”

“Hey! They’re good and you know it!”

~

Eventually, he knew that he was ready for the next step. No-not adopting a dog. He was ready to propose. After long discussions with Oscar (because he is substantially more put together than Logan (jokes)), he knew the perfect ring and the perfect way to ask.

~

It was after the season, and you two were visiting his family in Miami. Despite living in a beach town with a lot of luxury ships, he and his family had never been on a cruise, so that was what you suggested when everyone was talking about plans for the holiday.

That’s where you found yourself during the break, on a huge cruise ship in the middle of the ocean with his family and a few of your closest friends. The itinerary included St. Kitts, St. Thomas, St. Martins, and, Logan’s favorite, the Bahamas. You both relaxed, you learned how to fish (and even got another infamous fish picture of Logan), and you all went snorkeling around a shipwreck together.

The entire trip, Logan tried his best to relax, but he always had the lingering thought of “hey, I have the ring in my pocket, and I need to propose at some point.” You could tell something was on his mind, but you chalked it up to him being nervous since it was his first cruise. It was not until the second to last night that he finally mustered up the courage.

You were standing at the back of the ship with Logan, watching the sunset. You were leaning against the railing as Logan stood behind you with his hands on your sides. 

“Wanna pretend we’re from the Titanic?” You joked, looking back at him as you put your arms out to the sides like Rose. 

“Can we not joke about being on a sinking ship while we are on a ship in the middle of the ocean?” He laughed nervously. 

“Ah, are you scared, Mr. I drive at over 200 kph for a living?” You teased, looking back out to the open ocean. Logan was about to make a comment, but someone moving to his side caught his attention. Kyle and Oscar were walking by them, ready to take pictures of the moment since Logan asked them to photograph the moment. “Woah, cat got your tongue for once? Usually, you have some sort of smartass remark.”

“Actually, I wanna tell you something,” He started off. You did not turn around, but you moved your arms from the railing to hold his hands as they wrapped around your torso. “All I ever wanted was to make you feel wanted.”

“You do an amazing job at that, Logs,” You chuckled, turning your head slightly to place a small kiss on his cheek. 

“You make me feel so loved, but I want to make you feel better. I want to be better than all of the fairy tales you grew up with and better than your best dreams. I want to call you mine, I want to hold your hand forever and never let you forget it. I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how wanted you are because, to me, you’ll always be wanted,” He spilled, lovingly as he slowly turned you around throughout the speech. You were too busy gazing into his eyes (and keeping the tears from falling) to notice the other two secretly recording and taking pictures of the moment. Especially when Logan finished off the speech by getting down on one knee and holding out the ring for you. “All I ever wanted was to be married to you. Will you do me the honors?”

“I never imagined feeling so loved and wanted in a relationship, but you are better than any of my wildest dreams,” You cried before realizing you never answered him. You prompted him to put the ring on your finger before whispering, “I would love to marry you, Logs.”

“They said yes!” He jumped up, picking you up in the process and turning you toward the (now visible) men with their phones out.

“Put me down!” You scratched, “I know I made Titanic jokes earlier, but I’m not really planning on being thrown overboard tonight.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[milliemuus]

Day THREE of toxicchaintober, this one was a little late!

The subject of today was Mask!

Look at em; happy lil famjam! Not everything seems so bleak since yesterday's story, eh?

Speaking of, why don't we continue where we left off?

READ UNDER THE CUT

Kieran woke up with a start.

"Uuaaghh—"

The oxygen that had long since been missing suddenly filled his throat and lungs, causing him to fling himself upward.

Alarmed, he began to survey the area, chest heaving as his eyes flitted around for the smallest sign of familiarity.

Trees. All he could see were trees.

The sky abovehead was a beautiful yellow-blue, birdsong filling his still ringing ears.

"What the....where am I?" He murmured, looking down at his own hands. The tips of his fingers were still pink as he remembered.

"What...happened last night?" He croaked. For some reason, his throat felt sore.

He took his hand, rubbing it over the soft skin of his neck to make sure everything was still intact.

"Everything is okay...maybe I just had some sort of major freakout last night..." The poor boy was severely confused, as if something in the air still lingered but it was beyond his mind's grasp. He grunted as he heaved himself upward, the effects of last night starting to seep deeper into his bones.

"Ughhh...what the...?" He slumped over, another groan erupted from him as the pain rippled through his weak muscles.

"I feel like a herd of Stantler just ran me over—"

As he slowly begun to wake up, it was as of his waking mind suddenly came to a stop. In the back of his mind, a voice from within began to whisper.

"But don't you feel great...?"

Once he heard this he jumped to attention, looking around the area to see if it had been someone nearby.

"Wh-Who was that?"

He blurted aloud, his voice echoing into empty air.

The morning fog of Kitakami began to roll in, swirling aeound his ankles. He tensed.

"Don't worry about who I am..." The voice hissed, only causing his fear to turn into a bit of frustration.

"Soon enough, you'll not even begin to even to acknowledge the voice in your head." It continued. Kieran shook his head, growling softly.

"Okay, this isn't funny. If you're some tourist in the distance trying to scare me, it isn't going to work— eh-?!" Without thinking, it was as if his body carried itself, his legs wobbling over a few feet away from where he had been standing. He felt his heart palpitate—something about this was clearly wrong.

"Do you believe me now?"

The voice echoed in his mind again. Kieran gritted his teeth, immediately trying to ruffle his hair in frustration. He couldn't even comprehend the situation, much less understand what the hell was happening to him.

"Rrrghh...okay! I believe you!" He yelled, his voice slightly echoing into the wood. At the same time, a growling from afar rumbled. He froze.

"Careful, boy. Make enough noise, and you'll awaken something fierce." The voice warned, Kieran still confused but at this point, the boy couldn't do anything but accept his fate. He rubbed his eyes, another groan escaping him.

"Good kid. Better to listen to me rather than against me, huh?" It kept speaking, hardly giving Kieran time to recuperate.

"Wouldn't wantcha gettin eaten by a pokémon as soon as you wak—"

Kieran ruffled his hair again, nails scraping his scalp in vigor.

"Rrrrhhhaaaahhh!!! Get out of my head!!!!" He howled, "This whole situation is starting to freak me out!!!"

Not only did he start to scratch his head, he began tugging at his headband. This only made the disembodied voice frustrated.

"Calm down!" It hissed "Have you never had a conscience before?!"

Kieran immediately stopped

"Conscience? Like...a consciousness?"

"Yes, exactly!" It responded, "The inner, coelescent being within you. Your instincts, your will to survive on this planet. It is your self-awareness interacting and understanding with things in your environment that help you fe—"

For some reason, this "consciousness" in Kieran's head only made his frustration louder, bubbling it up into a magmarizing burst of rage.

"THIS IS EVEN MORE CONFUSING! YOU'RE THROWING TOO MANY WORDS AT ME THAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" WIthout thinking, the rage he felt transferred from his mind and into his arm as he swung back, throwing a punch against the tree near him.

It didn't do as much damage, only shaking it slightly. Some bird pokémon chirped in alarm overhead, Kieran whining as the punch had obviously caused him some pain.

"Ow ow owww..." he grunted, withdrawing his arm to hold it against him. Why was he like this in the morning? Sure, he had come to understand that he was a lot more sensitive as soon as he woke up, but something just felt off.

As he rubbed his arm, that annoying voice only came back, as if to taunt him

"..Huh. Not as strong as I thought, but that'll do nicely, I guess."

Kieran sighed deeply in agitation, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, what do you want with me?" He grumbled. He didn't fully believe the whole "consciousness" shtick, but considering he woke up in the middle of the woods and in a fit of sudden rage, he ought to hear this coelescent being out. The being immediately responded

"What wouldn't I want?" It responded "I am simply here to keep you alive. It isn't my fault you ran away in a fit of rage and woke up in the middle of the woods at dawn." As it began insulting Kieran, he growled again. Before he could open his mouth, though, it interrupted him.

"I want you to take a good look around you."

It went silent, Kieran's head turning from side to side. Around him was nothing but trees and moss as far as the eye could see. His eyes darted upward, as if he was talking to something above him.

"It's just trees, trees and trees. Am I in Timeless Woods or something?" He asked mindlessly, as if he had already known the answer that was before him.

"Wow, you're much more perceptive than I thought," the voice responded "But yes. I wouldn't say you're far from home, but it's a good, long walk." Kieran blinked. It began to settle within him that maybe he should not be here, and maybe he should be at home, in his bed asleep. He began to feel a little awkward, looking around again.

"...What am I doing here?" He asked. He wasn't sure if he had asked before or not, but it didn't hurt to sort this situation out to the best of his ability.

"...What are you NOT doing here?" The being replied. Internally it panicked; it didn't want to give itself away. Kieran simply slumoed pver in defeat, head hanging low.

"...Aw man. You're supposed to be my consciousness and you can't even answer my question..." As Kieran sulked, the being within panicked. Was it supposed to be this annoying to inhabit a human body? It made an indescribable noise before responding once more.

"Look, kid. I'm not here to question the psychology behind why I can't help you out. I only know as much as you, and to put it simply you blanked out before I could stop you." It began to explain. It felt as if that would be a good argument.

"Besides, wouldn't the better question be if you can make it home before your grandparents find it oddly suspicious that their poor grandson had an episode and ran off into the night?"

At that question, Kieran's eyes widened in realization.

"Oh goodness, you're right!" He grabbed the sides of his head.

"If I don't get home soon, not only will they question me but so will Carmine!!!" He begun to panic. The being within sighed. This whole "possession" thing was harder than it thought. It was just a mere pokémon—did everything have to be this trivial?!

"Calm down. I'm sure she couldn't do more harm than you." It continued. "Just trust the process! Once we get there I'm sure you'll have a good and proper explanation..."

Kieran shook his head. "You're my consciousness, yet you don't even remember the wrath of my sister-?!" He panicked. It was totally not weird that he was talking to himself in the middle of Timeless Woods.

"Oh, please! What's scarier, the temporary wrath of a young adult who can't keep her feelings in check or a hormonal, teenage boy having an identity crisis that wandered off into the woods at midnight-?!" It challenged, "Get a grip on yourself and get on with it!"

At that thought, Kieran just slumoed over once again

"Aw man...I guess that checks out..." Kieran muttered in deafeat before sitting up again. "But I'm not done with interrogatin' you!"

...

It took a good while to get back to his grandparents' house. The sun had already rose over the horizon, the familiar, foggy mornings of Kitakami now disappearing in the sunlight. It wasn't often he got to experience mornings like this, always waking up when the sun was slightly over the horizon. If he wasn't in such a hurry, he would be able to stop and enjoy the wilderness.

...Then another realization struck. He hadn't finished those assignments with Millie.

Maybe he could turn over a new leaf with her and his annoying sister would leave them be! The sheer thought excited him, making him nearly forget that he could potentially get in trouble with said sister. Inside, the being couldn't get any less overwhelmed.

Could the kid make up his mind already-?!

A good ten minutes went by before Kieran passed over the bridge, his running becoming more of a jog as he ran into the town. As he stopped by the community center he slowed down, coming to a cantor.

"I wonder if Millie's already awake..." he murmured to himself."I wonder if...oh geez, I gotta get going if that's the case!"

He sped up again. Hypothetically, if Millie was already awake, then she'd have already headed to his house, looking for him!!!

With panic, he made a dash for it, running up the slope that led to his grandparents house.

As he neared the house, he could already hear the grating voice of Carmine. Oh great, so she was awake! That must mean his grandparents were, too! He was nearly out of breath as he ran through the front fence, nearly running into the familiar group of people that stood outside his house.

'Huh?' He thought, 'Why are they here?'

From the looks of it, his grandfather and Millie were standing with Carmine, having some sort of discussion. He slowed down near Millie, the grass that crunched below his shoes having alerted the three of them.

"Oh! Hey, Ki," Millie smiled, turning around to greet him. Kieran stiffened for a moment before greeting her.

"Oh! Uh...morning...!" He waved, before keeling over. He had been so caught up in thought, he had not noticed the burning within his muscles and lungs. He began to take a few breaths before his grandfather, Yukito, looked at him.

"You seem tired, son," he added "Where have you been all morning?"

Carmine also chipped in, "And this better be a really good excuse, Kiki."

As the familial pair looked at their youngest, Kieran began sweating bullets. What do I say...?

I have to come up with something....

"Uhhh..." He began to speak, his mind instantly getting stuck. The being within felt pity upon him.

Now Millie was staring at him with the utmost concern, her brows furrowed. Never had he felt so much pressure that was from his own doing.

Think, think, think!

It was then that he had finally conjured up something in that head of his, his eyes widening.

"I....went on a walk!" He sat up again, putting his hands on his hips. "Yeah, I missed the early mornings and wanted to stretch my muscles, so I got up before dawn and went on a walk!"

He beamed an awkward smile at the pair, all of them looking at each other as if they had been skeptical. His heart was pounding from the anticipation.

Yukito finally nodded, "Alright...but judt be careful next time, okay?"

The two other women nodded, Millie looking more concerned than Carmine, who just glared at him. Once he made eye-contact with Carmine, his hands went from resting on his hips to small fists.

As the four of them stood there awkwardly, Kieran noticed that both his sister and grandfather were especially tense. His eyes wandered over to Millie, who he realized was pretty shitty at hiding her nervousness.

Might as well save her from this awkwardness while I still can...

"Hey, Moonie," He piped up, Millie immediately looking over at him. "Moonie" was a nickname he had given her upon first hanging out with her.

One he hadn't let go of despite her discomfort. (He didn't seem to notice...)

"How about we get started on our assignments? We got like, one signboard left!" He smiled. He was trying to be as smooth as possible, Millie about to walk over to him before Carmine shot her a glare, to which she vaguely returned.

"It could just be me and you for a little while—"

Before he could finish, Carmine immediately interrupted him

"Not today, Kiki. Millie and I have places to be, and I need her help."

Kieran's heart dropped. Was she serious? Millie looked at Carmine, holding her finger up to respond before Carmine shot her down.

"And don't say you can go ahead and do the assignments! What I need you for is more important than some stupid assignment with Kiki!" Millie instantly sighed, to which Kiki coukd see the disappointment in her eyes. He grit his teeth, a flash if anger he had never felt before rose up within him.

"That isn't fair, Carmine!" He bursted "You have a partner of your own, and yet you go and take mine for some stupid errand!" He stomped his foot childishly, Millie shrinking away a little. She herself was all too familiar with this situation, yet she knew she could not get in-between them. Carmine growled, "Oh yeah? Well, your time with Millie isn't as important as mine, so why don't you go buzz off and go pester someone else?!" Her eyes were blazing, Kieran hinself now shrinking in discomfort. As he was trying to come up with a comeback, his consciousness grumbled.

"Geez, that's gotta sting..."

The humiliation he was feeling at the current moment couldn't be any greater. At his consciousness's comment, he growled

"Shut up..." It was supposed to be under his breath, not realizing he had been louder than usual. Carmine, who had thought she won the argument, whipped around immediately, her eyes darkening.

"What was that?" She asked flatly, her dark expression all the more serious. Kieran, realizing he had been louder than usual, looked around for a moment, sweating.

"Uhhhh...I mean—" He had to think of another excuse! "I flubbed! Err..."

All three of them now had his eyes on him. His face turned red. He had to make a quick getaway before the embarrassment killed him.

"Anyway, gotta go! I think I'm just going to go for another walk until you and Moonie are done!" He laughed nervously, turning around and rushing away away from the group.

He rushed over to the corner of the fence, out of their sight. He rested against it, letting out a silent puff of breath.

"What the hell was that-?!" The voice piped up again. Kieran grunted, trying to catch his breath.

"I dunno!" He cried softly, not wanting to cause anymore attention upon himself. "Papaw started talking, then Carmine...! And now Carmine is really taking Millie away from me!" He was making hand gestures as if his consciousness could see them.

"Man...why is it that whenever I'm happy, Carmine instantly swoops in and makes it about her...?" He whimpered, "I mean seriously! Moonie was my only friend and she goes and takes her away from me!"

As Kieran began ranting and gallavanting, there was a lot of things his consciousness could say about the situation. Moonie? Who the hell calls their friend Moonie?

It just kept its mouth shut on criticizing Kieran, appeasing the boy by agreeing with him.

"Yeahhh, your sister seems like a total buzzkill..."

The consciousness was half paying attention, its attention on the pair that was nearby still. Kieran's voice seemed to fade out, being replaced by their conversation:

"So, we found this mask," Carmine spoke, "And we wondered if you knew what it was?"

"My goodness! This is the Ogre's mask!" The raspy voice of Yukito exclaimed. This immediately caught its attention. It immediately tuned back into Kieran's ranting. It had to act fast; this was important.

"Shut it for a second." It snapped with urgency. Kieran was in shock for a moment, immediately taking offense to the command.

"Not you, too!" He whimpered, "Why is everyone hellbent on making me an enemy today—"

"Be quiet!" It's voice was louder in his head, cauaing Kieran to shrink. Before the boy could retort, it continued.

"I need you to zero in on their conversation. Be stealthy about it; I think you'll find out why they've been isolating you this way."

It was a fitting excuse. Kieran successfully met its demands, pressing his back against the wall. Focusing, the two could better hear what the three adults were talking about.

"It is extremely impressive the Ogre had dropped this," Yukito continued "You made the right choice in not telling Kieran."

Carmine frowned "Yeah. I feel really bad...he deserves to know, but like, if he found out the truth...."

The consciousness couldn't hear the rest, Kieran immediately piping up in a whisper.

"They're hiding from me-?! Just great! I mean come on, first you single me out, and now I understand why you're acting like I just killed your pet goldeen an—"

"Just shut it!" It cried desperately "We have to figure out what the hell they're talking about!"

Kieran rolled his eyes. "I dunno why YOU care. I mean come on, you yourself must be getting enjoyment out of my suffering!"

"No, you idiot," it snapped, "If we listen in on the conversation, we can...figure out the intel we need and get back at them! We need to find out the truth!"

Kieran shrugged, humming for a moment. "Ookay, but I don't know how it would help me..."

And so, the pair went back to listening.

Yukito began to explain how Kieran was a wise kid, that his intuition was very exceptional among the two siblings. However, Kieran was still young, and would rub the truth about the Ogre in their faces.

"If word got around that Ogerpon wasn't the villain of this story, not only would people look down upon him, but it would also be breaking a centuries-old tradition."

"Ogerpon isn't the evil one, and that's why I believe Kieran would get too excited at this idea and not be quiet about it." Yukito concluded. At this revalation, both girls gasped.

"You're joking!" Carmine exclaimed "So the Loyal Three aren't heroes?!"

Millie looked down at the mask, frowning. "Man, just when I wanted to tell Kieran about it. I understand, though."

Kieran grunted. "At least SHE thinks about me."

He had expected his consciousness to respond, but it stay quiet. Yukito continued,

"No matter what, you musn't tell Kieran about what we discussed. I can hold onto the mask while the two of you go fetch the crystal meeded to repair it." He explained. Carmine and Millie nodded.

"Alright! That shouldn't be too hard, right?" She looked over at Millie, who looked hesitant, but nodded.

"Uh- yeah- but aren't we supposed to not go to the Crystal Pool?" She asked "You told me outsiders weren't allowed-"

Carmine rolled her eyes.

"This is an exception, Mills! We have an Ogre to save!"

As the pair kept discussing their plans, Kieran felt furious. Why couldn't they trust him?! Sure, he was still younger than them, but that shouldn't be any different! And now, they're roping Millie into it! As he gripped the wall of the fence, he felt a sense of betrayal; why were they using Millie to do something he would have done with no questions asked?

His mind swam with so many thoughts. Befire they could get too deep, his consciousness piped up.

"Bad guys..." it grumbled "We'll show them bad guys."

Kieran noticed the tone shift. "Huh?"

It continued, "You know what, kid? I think you have a chance to prove yourself."

At that, Kieran looked around "I do?"

"Yeah! Just listen to me, and ask questions later!"

And with that, the two began to plot their way to victory. Deep within, his "consciousness" couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to gnab the masks for himself, being the richest person in the universe.

"Mammy and Pappy would be so proud~!"

.

.

.

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[spoiled-milk]

honkai star rail characters’ reaction to your tattoos [ft dan heng, welt, blade, kafka, gepard]

a/n: it's been four weeks of uni and i have pulled too many all nighters and consumed way too many energy drinks. i am running on no juice at the moment and i wrote this is like two sittings and it is very much not proof read

content warning: mentions of tattoos (duh), very out of character characters probably, shitty writing, sfw

word count: ~780 words

dan heng

neutral to your body tattoos and just see it as another part of you

i personally hc that he has at least one on his body and it’s on right shoulder (source: me i saw it in person in his bed)

doesn’t mean that every time you wear a tank top and your back is somewhat visible he can’t help but stare at you

it’s just fascinating to him. he wants to know if it has meaning to you or if you got it on a whim, if you were meticulous in picking every element represented or it’s just a collage of your favorite things. if the artwork on your back shows your lifetime story that words can’t describe

sometimes at night when the you’re giving him information to fill in the data bank and you fall asleep he’ll unconsciously hover his hand where your tattoo is and rub circles where it is

welt

welt sees your tattoos in pretty much the same way dan heng does, but he admired how the artwork on your body highlights your beauty

when you fall asleep on the couch filling out paperwork for both himeko and for the data bank, your tattoo is visible

as you snore on the red couches in the lobby of the express, welt can’t help but bring you a blanket and shift you into a position that won’t hurt your back in the morning

welt sits next to you book in hand while he watches you snooze away. eventually he too succumbs to slumber and he is seen sleeping next to you on the couch (no one is sure how the two of you manage to fit on one couch)

blade

he’s the first one and probably the only one to notice that your tattoo covers a scar

he won’t ask you about it (it’s not any of his business) but he would point it out in private

“you’ve got a scar there” he’d point at your tattoo and you’d play dumb “pfft… what scar?” then he points at the exact spot on your tattoo where ink covers scar tissue

freaks you out tbh you thought it was not that noticeable and blade senses your panic and reassures you it can’t be spotted that easily

he’s a little confused on why you would want to cover it and you tell him honestly. you don’t like it when people point it out while in public and you just found out easier to cover it up permanently without needing to always apply foundation

he feels bad for you but he’s got bandages on his hands so who is he to talk about covering up wounds

he has a new sense of closeness to you and vice versa. You sometimes catch him eyeing your tattoo and you ask him if he wants to get one too

he politely declines but if you wanted to get matching tattoos with him in a discreet spot, he won’t reject probably

kafka

i’m surprised that in that one light cone of kafka from forgotten hall she’s got none but that’s okay she’s still hot nevertheless

mommy kafka thinks your tattoos are hot probably so she deliberately buys you clothing that don’t cover the tattoo (backless dresses, sleeves less shirts, low rise jeans, shoulder less blouses)

she will be upset if you don’t wear the things she buys you

she probably thinks back tattoos are the sexiest and if you let her she would totally kiss your back just to make you squirm

loves water color style type tattoos the most, but whatever you have on you is hot to her

gepard

in one of gepard’s voice lines he mentions that he’s into gardening (hot hot hot) so i think if you had a tattoo of flowers he’d melt probably

if it’s on your shoulder or back and you show him? he will scream. he’s gonna scream, throw his jacket at you, then go into another room. he’s just a little baby you gotta cut him some slack

will admire your tattoos from afar but cannot look you in your eyes because he will go red in the face

if you ask him for his input for some flowers for a new tattoo idea that you have, will be honored that you asked him of all people

he would suggests lilies, amaryllises, morning glories, or bellflowers. don’t ask him why though he will not be able to tell you without blushing

he thinks all these flowers are gorgeous and he finds you gorgeous and if you incorporated some of these in your new tattoo he will be putty in your hands

he rarely gets to give out advice that’s not related to silvermane guard rules, regulations, and formalities so he’s secretly ecstatic

[saturnxlust]

HEYYY :P ik its been awhile my bad😔

Injured!Proxys+ben x Doctor! Reader

Tim Wright/ Masky

So this man is closed off, all of the proxys are😞

But hes not a idiot, he knows when his body has had enough and when he needs help

The only way you’d be able to help him is if its a severe wound or if your close with him

Im talking at least 2+ years of either dating or being friends..

Lucky you if you’ve made it this long!

Now actually helping him is difficult

Hes stubborn and doesnt like to admit hes in pain so when you stitch his sorry ass up or disinfect it, he winces but swears hes fine

Hes not fine

He also complains the entire time about how he could do it himself

Knowing full well he couldnt he just likes to be a pain in the ass

Brian Thomas/hoodie

Hes more lenient, he’ll let you help him even though we all know this man could do it himself

It wouldnt be good but as long as he isnt bleeding out he doesnt really care

Although hes the more lenient one hes still closed off and it takes atleast a year or more to be able to help him

The first time you actually clean up a wound he falls deeper in love

Its not covered in dried blood or anything!

Hes amazed at how gentle you were and found it cute if you were concerned about him

It gets to the point where he would make small bruises or cuts just to have you put a little bandaid on his finger or put pain cream on his bruise

He would totally make you kiss the bandages after, no matter how big or small😭

He has dinosaur bandaids and unicorn bandaids.

Toby Rogers

Oh boy buckle up

So he cant feel pain

Good luck☺️

He doesnt know hes hurt and most likely you wont either

If you somehow get him to wash his fuckass sweatshirt and seem to see a wound, he too, would be confused and surprised

He would find how concerned you were funny and laugh as you clean him up

If you yelled at him while he laughed he’d tell you to relax and that hes fine

Hes not fine

Like brian he would make small cuts and or bruises to have you patch him up

Back tracking a little, it would take a few months but not because hes closed off

He trusts you completely to not hurt him physically

It was just getting to see him without his sweatshirt on that was difficult

He keeps that thing on all the time no way your getting a peak at his scrawny ass unless you rip that sweatshirt off him or if you get…spicy.. with him..

Eyeless Jack

HAH

Good luck

He went to medical school

This man knows what hes doing

But like the others finds it funny that you want to help him

He doesnt need it but honestly

Hes too smart to get too badly injured, if he does it’s because he went awhile wothout eating and became reckless

I think that if he were to go more then a fee weeks without eating he would get reckless with how he got the kidneys

He wouldnt leave the victims alive and leave them in their bed naked with incisions on their stomach

When that happens he usually comes home with a bruise or scratches from the victims fighting back,

If you’ve gotten to the point that you know about that and accept it, not only will you be helping clean him up

You’d help clean his clothes up

Hes a clean guy dont get me wrong but after eating i think he would just need to sleep

And if your like me theres no way that 7’ tall demon is getting in my bed soaked in blood and possible guts ☺️

Jeffery Hodek

God i wish you luck if your with this man

He will let his wounds get infected for fun and he will enjoy it when you get upset (COUGH COUGH MOUTH CUTS COUGH)

He honestly couldnt care less and again, finds it amusing when you yell at him

Lets be honest his story is written awful so im gonna tweak it a litte

He did not get bleached, there was a explosion and some of his hair burnt off, it has since grown back a little but the burn scars are still there

So if you want to help him clean his mouth he’ll complain and tease you and taunt you but he’ll let you do it

..if you even want to after all that.😒

Benjamin Lawman

So he can’t actually get hurt…i mean unless hes like a zombie but he isnt, this guys a ghost

So i mean, unless he has some power to be human magically theres really nothing that can hurt him

Even you..

But you should find a way to hurt him, whether it be physical or emotional causr hes a jackass

And will make fun of you just to see you cry😒

Either bring up something from his past(he might get a little angry at that🥰) or threaten to throw him into a lake

You can’t actually throw him but..he..doesnt need to know that😇

[dotthings]

I have some thoughts about Cas after seeing Misha’s comment on why Cas wasn’t in TW so let me put these bullet points here:

* Many Cas fans latched onto “Cas helped” like it was the only rope thrown to us in a sea of Cas erasure because that’s what it was. If I’d had to believe for the past four years that Cas was trapped in The Empty I would have gone out of my mind and I was already out of my mind due to the various fails of the series finale. Not judging since I get the appeal of a rescue arc but did people really want Cas helpless in The Empty, limp, asleep, trapped in his own regrets for the past four years of realtime (also that’s not canonically how Cas went to The Empty, I’ll get to that). It sounds miserable

* Nobody said “Cas helped” was adequate, ftr. We said it was an info dump and it was the last ditch attempt to give us something after the covid regs/CW Network butchered the finale story and Misha’s part was cut. An info dump isn’t the best way to tell a story but is sometimes a necessity in TV storytelling because of external circumstances

* Cas had earned better from the story and pretty much all the Cas lane all knew it. I was bitter about it. But also it’s what was available as a clue to Cas’s fate. We had Bobby’s line and Dean’s smile as a lantern in the darkness

* If Cas was intended to still be in The Empty why in the og version was he at the bar with Dean if the intent was for him to be trapped in The Empty

* No shade at Misha. Just thinking it through. CMP doesn’t retcon. CMP fills in the blanks and recontextualizes

* one of the great things about 15.18 was Cas’s self actualization story and that when The Empty took him he was fulfilled. Not empty. Cas saved himself—The Empty would have no power over him beyond trying to whisk him away. That is canon. Cas’s self actualization also means something to many Cas fans. The inadequacies of 15.20 don’t make the messaging and implications of 15.18 (and the story leading up to it) less worthwhile and people are still allowed to find Cas’s story meaningful. Even if we’re relieved and happy a follow up is seemingly on the way finally

* The rescue is a great story idea, Misha was maybe just speculating at CCS, or wanted to make fans happy, but I’m not dismissing that perhaps it’s a hint about some revival plans and I feel all tingly

* It doesn’t have to be incompatible with Cas saves himself. Perhaps Cas redesigns Heaven from The Empty

* Reminder that Cas is a cosmically fearsome really stubborn self-realized BAMF who was taken fulfilled and can cancel out possibly even destroy or absorb and transform The Empty’s…energy. Reminder Cas and Rowena were paralleled characters, Rowena wound up as ruler of Hell, while Cas ———-abandoned to a question mark but gee what could it be *looks at Rowena*

* Let me float this scenario. Dean goes to save Cas…and finds Cas sitting on The Empty’s throne, having taken over and reformed the place. Dean’s just staring poleaxed with happiness to find Cas and because he expected Cas to be asleep. Cas, calmly, “Hello, Dean”

*I know some people have speculated about this already. And with whatever insight and power he gained maybe he could have redone Heaven remotely. Maybe Cas at the bar is after the “rescue” — maybe he needs Dean’s help to exit The Empty even if Cas overpowered it. Who wants to clown with me about Cas King of The Empty *honk honk*

* There’s also the question of missing time and pov for Dean between the moment of his death and his arrival in Heaven and what if Cas guided Dean’s soul—lost and confused—somehow but sticking a pin in that for now

Anyway it seems very very likely we are getting a follow up to 15.18 and Cas’s story that finally gives him his full due.

*HONK HONK*

And hearthands for Misha and Jensen both watching over Cas the way they did. Misha realized a cameo wasn’t adequate, Jensen agreed, wholeheartedly, Cas deserved a full follow up not just a cameo with no explanations or deeper story, we knew this already actually but it’s good having Misha on video summarizing it. (It’s possibly due to Harvey Dent that Misha only had time to do a cameo, btw. Not because no one thought Cas should have more screentime).

[darknessisafriend]

Commodus the whore of the Empress Part 4 Commodus x Reader

I never planned to make another part of this wonderful story but suddenly a few ideas popped up. So, I hope you will enjoy it! less smutty than the previous chapters but a lot of erotic tension there with a touch of angst ;)

For the newbies this is an imagine of a AU where Commodus falls from grace, you become Empress and he becomes your pleasure slave. However things are not so easy. (link to part 1, 2 ; 3 here)

Months passed as you kept enjoying your slave. Now people had forgotten the fallen emperor and only saw the slave, not even minding him as they crossed his path and perhaps that was a mistake, at least that’s what you had started thinking. Commodus was freely going around, sharing your bed every night, going unnoticed like any slaves except for his beauty, he was happy, it was obvious to you now, he had that peaceful air in his eyes, that discreet smile on his lips. It bothered you…he must have a plan in mind, something to run away, take back power even and you had to do something about it. You had to remind him who was in charge and what was his place.

“You asked to see me?” asked Commodus as he bowed his head at you as he always did. His face remained neutral as he felt a change in the atmosphere, he didn’t feel your warmth, he felt as if he was facing a wall.

“Indeed. I’ve realized we missed something truly important in your current status.” You announced, and nodded at a man he hadn’t noticed. The man was richly dressed and yet his hands were covered in dark smudges, coal perhaps, he was probably a blacksmith. Commodus widened his eyes as he saw that the man held an iron collar in his hands with a tag in the middle, like any slave collar of the Roman Empire; on it could be read: If I flee, return me to my master, Emperess Y/N.

He looked at you and then back at the collar and then at you again before dropping to his knees and deeply bowing “Thank you, my Empress.” He said fervently, earning a frown from you and the blacksmith, never you had heard of a slave thanking such gesture. “Don’t be absurd. Let’s see if I have you branded with a hot iron will make you thank me.” You spat a threat, believing he was exaggerating to obtain your favors. You even put your foot on his crotch, making him retain a hum of pleasure.

“Still…I would feel honored to be branded with your name.” he replied with the same passion. You eyed him, your heart beating faster both in frustration and flatter, like a young girl under the power of love. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand your ground, be harsh, a master and not a friend, so you cut short to the conversation.

“Enough. I have other matters to attend, go away.” You stated, waving at Commodus dismissively. You briefly made eye contact with him, you could read a certain confusion like a puppy who didn’t understand the situation and was simply begging for caresses.

The silence lasted for a few seconds as if he wanted to try to remain by your side like he usually did, ready to fulfill your every needs. But he soon understood you were being serious, you didn’t want his presence, maybe it was due to some political meeting, he thought. In that case his presence would be an insult to both parties.

The morning passed slowly; you had grown irritated on your way to the Senate. The absence of Commodus was cruelly felt; that man had managed to make himself indispensable to you and on purpose you thought; how could you have been so stupid as to let yourself being seduced by your worst enemy!? Let him share your bed? He could kill you anytime and he would surely attempt soon, once you would be blindly in love with him, perhaps after changing his political status.

A headache started splitting your skull as you listened to the incessant speeches of the senators. To the point you hadn’t noticed a presence, the clear eyes of Commodus watching you from the service corridor; he was worried. You disliked the senators as much he did, but he noticed something else was making thoughtful, upset. The slaves rarely entered the auditorium except to serve wine and a few necessities or wave a fan during high heat. However Commodus decided to enter, he had never done it since his fall, under your express order, most Senators had wished him dead and seeing him would feel like seeing a ghost threatening their lives.  Usually, you secretly granted him to accompany you to watch, today you hadn’t seen he had come as well.

He silently approached, ignoring the scandalized look of some politicians, others terrified of him. He was carrying a bowl of hot water infused with herbs and a piece of cloth inside to apply to your head and sooth the pain.

You didn’t notice his presence at first “No. The pleb wellbeing matters to me and the money we invest on that will be rewarded by their loyalty and economic growth of the south of the city.” You stated, glad most senators had gone silent. Well, until you noticed it wasn’t related to your words. You turned your head in the direction of their gazes and saw Commodus waiting obediently by your side, a bowl of warm water in his hands. All colors left your face at first, what was he doing in front of the Senate!? tending to you as if you were some weak poor thing!?

“What. Are. You. Doing here?” you gritted your teeth, your cheeks turning red from anger, your heart racing from stress. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you, expecting a proper response, wondering what’s the next mistake you would make, anything to discredit you. Commodus only seemed to realize now that prioritizing your wellbeing over politics was a mistake, he had put you in an uncomfortable position. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but no words came out, no he had to do better. He dropped the bowl which splashed water all over him and threw himself on the ground, as low as he could, his forehead on the cold marble of the Senate…who knew he would ever bow in that damn building. A senator scoffed at the sight, satisfied to see the arrogant Commodus reduced to this.

“Get that…away from this sacred auditorium.” You snarled angrily, your chest filled with anxiety, your emotions as conflicted as ever, how much you should express your anger? How much should you control yourself?

“What a nice entertainment. I have to admit I enjoy this sight more than his dead body.” Commented Falco, making other Senators laugh. The man that you didn’t trust had actually helped you in that moment, turning this situation into nothing but a funny pause between debates. Commodus ignored the humiliations, what mattered now was to sooth you and he had made things worse! He kept his eyes on the ground as he was dragged back to the service area, receiving a hard push against the wall, a warning to not overstep again…

On your way back to the palace in the afternoon, you sat in the Lectica, a palanquin just big enough for you and another person, who turned out to be Commodus in that moment. You were looking out, behind the thin cotton curtains, anything but the one sitting in front of you, despite the hours passing after the incident. Commodus gaze was locked on you, expecting “I merely wanted to relieve your headache.” He said at first, his words making you groan in response.

“You came to stand in front of the Senators, you, that fallen Emperor, showing care for me. You think of it as normal task as a slave but to their eyes it is defiance to them, it shows I give you too much importance, trust. How long before they start saying that you are my lover? That you are the one speaking in the shadows and I am merely the mouth repeating your words?” you spoke in a hushed tone, yet your anger could be felt, you felt vulnerable, being a leading woman in Rome was hard already, you didn’t need this. You raised your hand before Commodus could answer “I do not want any excuse or lies from you. Cease to annoy me, I am starting to regret keeping you alive already.” You muttered, not seeing how his sorry gaze had turn into hurt, his knuckles turning white. Why that change of attitude from you? What had bug had stung you? He swallowed down, remaining silent for the rest of the trip, his mind searching his memories to try to find the precise gesture, care or even word that would have displeased you.

Once you reached the palace, you walked fast, wanting to isolate yourself, your emotions were taking over your rationality and that was something you tried to avoid, especially when it involved yourself. Commodus followed, back inside the palace he didn’t have to hide and intended on obtaining answers.

“Your Highness is there something I did wrong to anger you?” he asked clearly, making you slow down your pace, not looking at him ‘Stop pretending that you care’ you thought.

“I know what you are. Cut the act, no need to pretend anymore.” You stated instead, stopping, your back to him, you had heard him come to a halt a few steps behind you, but closer than a slave, more intimate. There was a silence for a few seconds, as if he was trying to understand your words.

“Pretend? Empress I am not pretending, I have never been h-…”

“Oh please stop!” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes and clenching your jaw ‘Drop your mask Commodus…make me hate you, it will be easier’ you prayed in your mind. “But what did you think Commodus?! That I care about you? That I feel some sympathy for your cause?! Leave.” You spoke angrily, refusing to look at him, your gaze would betray your inner turmoil too much. You walked again intending to go away for good.

But he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks, the surprise gesture made you face him, revealing your teary eyes “Y/N aren’t you seeing you are becoming like me?! Paranoid and alone! That’s when you are becoming the weakest!” he exclaimed, he wanted to enlighten you, warn you of the danger. His expression softened the moment he saw your eyes, why were you on the verge of tears? You turned your head to gather yourself, then looking at him dead in the eyes, furious.

“You dare!” you yelled in front of slaves and guards, he had touched you, called you by your name, as equals. It was abnormal and the praetorians had instantly unsheathed their swords and approached, seizing him hard enough to make him let go of you, the pommel of the sword violently hitting his belly to make him kneel painfully. You panted, his gesture had scared you, and your ego was hit.

“I think I was too tender to my slave. Remind him of his status. 10 lashes.” You dropped under the emotion, anger, fear, pain mixing all together into an explosive adrenaline. Commodus face was livid as he was dragged to the stake reserved for corporal punishments et executions, a crowd of curious courtesans gathering to watch, the word of the flogging would the ears of all in few hours.

He panted as the rope around his wrists was tightly pulled, it was impossible for him to move. Except for a few beatings when he fell, he had never suffered any physical punishment, he was barely comprehending what was happening. He had only asked to understand what was happening to you, wanting to save you from the paranoia he had suffered, why did you punish him for it? You used to treat him with tolerance and kindness…had he been wrong from the start? Did he imagine things? Was he fooled by you just like he had been fooled by his father…? His trail of thoughts was cut short by the first hit of the whip, tearing away the air from his lungs, a surprised cry of pain escaping his mouth, followed by a groan as to try to recover but the second lash came already.

You watched the scene, conscious the Court was watching too, the Empress hurting the fallen emperor who had become a slave, showing to all he was indeed just a slave, nothing more to your eyes. Your fists were clenched, each crack of the whip resonating in your skull, your eyes filled with the bloody back of Commodus. You felt agony, dread, and power, your darkest self finding satisfaction while the other wanted to stop the slave master from accomplishing the task you had ordered.

Soon, Commodus grew quiet, too in pain to react, barely able to remain conscious, the reality of the situation had hit him way harder than the whip. You had ordered this. His legs gave up under his weight after the last hit.

Soon, the Court left, amused, satisfied by the sight and ready to spread word of the drama within the imperial palace. Only you remained and the slave master who joined you for the next orders. “Have the doctors treat his wounds, I want him back on his feet as soon as possible.” You hushed, the blood pumping in the ears of Commodus prevented him from hearing anything. The next thing he knew was that you were standing in front of him, one lash had split his lip open; you seized his jaw to look at him in the eyes.

You contained your surprise as you were met with an empty gaze clouded with pain, you had expected anger, fierceness. “You are only alive because I want to remind you how much you failed.” You spoke, your thumb erasing the blood trickling down his chin, and bring the drop to your lips, tasting him, wanting to provoke a reaction from him. “You belong to me Commodus, I have the right of life and death, of your pain and your pleasure…I had to do this. I hope you will understand later my decision. Sincerely.” You spoke, only for him to hear; he didn’t react, only looking at you in the eyes with an infinite air of betrayal. You leaned closer, kissing him roughly, tasting more of his blood which felt even more exquisite when a whimper died against your lips, despite everything Commodus was still yearning for your touch. You slowly parted, he was on the verge of passing out, his gaze even more filled with pain, yet you felt great pleasure in the power you had over him, he was indeed completely at your mercy, and you were the one in control, still. You grinned somehow reassure that you were still the master, that if you decided to fuck him right now, or to end his life, you could. However, his lips moved, pronouncing your name so weakly you couldn’t it. You saw his eyes still bore nothing else than pain and…devotion? doubt and guilt sprouted in your mind, was he right? Were you being touched by the same illness as his?

For the rest of the day Commodus laid in the infirmary, on his stomach, silent. The pain in his heart was stronger than the one of the torn flesh of his back. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, about you, and he hated it.

“One must be a fool to talk back to the Empress that way. Or desperate. And I believe you are not a fool.” Commented the doctor who took care of him, he had known him when he was Emperor and still treated him as such, never he had dared to call him by his name which is something Commodus regretted, that doctor was probably what he had the closest to a friend.

“I thought she cared about me, Galen…I thought we…” he murmured sadly, you hadn’t even let him explain himself.

“Just because a master appreciates the work of his slave doesn’t mean they care for the person behind it.” Replied Galen, looking at him with compassion. He was still seeing the young boy craving the approval of those he loved. Like a stray dog, wagging its tail when receiving a bone to chew after receiving a beating. “Listen, what I- your highness!” he interrupted himself standing up at your view and bowing in respect. He swallowed down, not knowing for how long you had stood there.

“How is he?” you asked, seeing Commodus’ hands clenching the bedsheets. You approached delicately laying your fingers on the sensitive and red skin of his back, goosebumps appearing at your contact, was it from anticipation? Pleasure?

“I would say that thankfully to the weakness of the slave master, the whip didn’t tear any muscle, mostly just the skin, deeply. He will need many weeks to recover fully, 6 weeks at least, the scars will remain forever. I apologize for not being able to do better and faster.” Bowed again Galen, probably the man didn’t know what to think of you, you had visited him very little after all. “He will be able to stand and do basic chores in about 3 days.” He added, hoping it was enough to satisfy you.

“It is fine. I do not need him for now.” You answer, your eyes detailing the body of your slave, you wanted to punish the slave master for hitting too low which ended up in scarring Commodus left butt cheek. Your fingers traced around it, slowly going up his back on the sensitive skin again but careful to avoid touching the deepest wounds. Your fingers ended up burying in his damp curls, Commodus was hiding his face in the crook of his arms, his breathing faster, you could feel his desire, his fear, or perhaps he was trembling of rage to have failed to betray you? you wanted to be sure of it “Commodus, look at me.” You commanded; your voice not as authoritative as you wished it to be. He unveiled his eyes, infinite sadness in them, confusion. “Talk freely.” You added, doubt stronger in your mind, you worried, had you done a terrible mistake?

“Your highness…I do not understand the sudden change in the way you treat me. Fine I overstepped earlier but I needed answers and I believe you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” He spoke first, his voice broken from the cries he let out during the flogging. “Yes, I hated you when you humiliated me with worse than an execution, turning me into a slave, all I wanted was to wait for the proper moment to kill you. Make you pay.” He admitted at first, but his easiness made you understand it was only a brief thought of his “When I did my best to serve you, earn your trust. I discovered something else…about myself.” He smiled bitterly as if he hated that part of him “I bloody enjoyed serving you. Receiving your orders, receiving a pat on the head when I did exceptionally good. I had to think of nothing but your satisfaction. I was alive, living in a palace, giving pleasure to a beautiful woman who offered me her protection…what a dream it turned out to be. Now, for no reason you take it all away. Was it all part of your plan? To give me an illusion of peace and happiness, to take it all away from me after, to watch me crumble...?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling. You were taken by surprise; you had expected him to admit he was planning treason but not the opposite. You found yourself unable to hold his gaze, you had to admit you had no more strength to face him.

“Thank you for your honesty, Commodus.” You articulated, turning you head which he took badly, his heart aching even more, you didn’t even grant him a look anymore, when he had been the most vulnerable, admitting how he felt. You quickly left the infirmary, practically running to your chambers. Once the doors closed, you leaned against it, a shaky breath escaping your mouth. You passed a hand over your face, your lower lip trembling as realization hit you, you had reacted excessively, paranoia had infected your mind…

In the middle of the night

The imperial palace was silent except for the cracking of the torches on the walls, the occasional wind on the light curtains, the yawning of a guard…

Commodus hadn’t fallen asleep for the whole time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about that last conversation with him, comforting his doubts that indeed you had just played him just like his father did. He clenched his jaw, the moon was high in the sky, it was time. He stood up with difficulty, his back ached and his skin irritated by the slightest movement. But he would take care of that later. First, he had to kill you.

He exited the infirmary, the half sleeping guards paid no attention to him, slaves go on and about freely at any time of the day to serve their masters and you had not instructed any restrictions for him. He walked with an assured step and went to your chambers. He quietly opened the doors, his movements precise, he was an excellent hunter after all. His heart skipped a beat as he didn’t find you asleep but sitting at your study, tired as you wrote under the candlelight.

Before you knew it, you felt a cold blade against your jugular, the exact same blade you hid under your pillow “I was wondering if you would come.” You said, knowing it was Commodus, it was to be expected after all, you thought it was well earned.

“Here I am.” He murmured, keeping the blade against your throat and coming to stand in front of you, making eye contact. He noticed your eyes were red but your breathing calm. He swallowed down, his eyes becoming wet “All I ever inspired in my life wasn’t to rule, but to be loved, appreciated for who I am. I would give away my freedom a thousand times, be humiliated every day as long as you loved me back.” He sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, he didn’t just enjoy being your slave, he had fallen in love with you. “I trusted you, I…you have no idea how happy I was when you ask me to sleep with you for the first time. I was being considered. Now I realize how disgusted how you must have felt, having to share your bed with me, the one who had humiliated you. How you moaned my name and spread your legs just to make me think I had to slightest importance to your eyes. Cruel but genius, I have to praise that.” He smiled bitterly, his body trembling with anger and pain.

“Commodus...there was no such plan-” you started but he pressed the blade harder against your throat, he didn’t want to have false hope again.

“Shut up!” he hushed angrily, a drop of blood trickling down your neck, the blade was sharp. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours, kissing you sweetly, almost like the kiss of Judas. You let him do, willing to face him, let him obtain vengeance. “I am going to kill you. But before that I have only one thing to ask, and if you have some honor, you will grant me this last wish.” He spoke softly, his tone on the edge of begging. It could make one wonder if Commodus was the one in control of the situation or you.

“Tell me. I wish to repay the wrong I cause you these past days.” You agreed truthfully, looking at him in the eyes, which Commodus seemed to hate even more.

“Why must you only look at me now? If you had the guts to look at me earlier, I wouldn’t be standing with a blade under your throat, I would be on my knees, begging you to forgive for whatever wrong I did to you.” He said fondly before pulling himself together. “I want you to be my master one last time. Order me around, be rough, make me take you, everything as you usually did. Make me feel as you seemed to care for me, only me.” He requested, firm and desiring. Once again you had been wrong, you had expected him to request that you make public excuses or such, but no, once again he only wanted you, only you.

You teared up as you nodded, flashing a brief smile, how much you regretted hurting him that way. He kept the dagger in his hand as you focused, taking a deep breath to get back in your role of Empress. “Well, aren’t you greeting your mistress Commodus?” you asked, containing your emotions as much as you could as you usually did. His eyes lit up, glad you were satisfying his last wish, he knelt, dagger in hand as he deeply bowed, his forehead hitting the floor.

“Forgive me Empress. This lowly slave was too stricken by your return and is happy.” He said fervently, kissing your feet and ankles. You smiled, retaining tears, you had messed up everything, that beautiful bond that you had built, perhaps the only person you could trust in the end. You put your hand on his hair, caressing the curls.

“Look at me.” You stated, making your hold of his hair stronger to lift his head, his pupils were dilated exquisitely, despite the fact that some of his wounds had reopened, bleeding on the white marble. “Good boy.” You praised and stood up, going closer to the bed, offering your back to him, if he decided to stab you right now, then so be it.

 He stood up, approaching you from behind, so close you could feel his breath on your neck and sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed down, finding yourself wishing something …different from usual “Undress me. Do it as if we were equals.” You ordered quietly, anticipation building in your belly as he didn’t act at first. Then, you felt his arms wrapping around you from behind, squeezing you, the blade in his hand pressing against your belly, making you tremble slightly. He did nothing but hug you, his lips tracing kisses along your jugular, licking the blood from the cut, sucking your skin.

“I will mark you tonight. I was always careful to hide our whereabouts. But tonight, all will know you bedded a slave, the former emperor.” He murmured in your ear, leaving red spots on your skin. The blade moved under the binding of your stola, cutting the expensive clothing and making the fabric slide along your naked body. His blade left a small cut on your belly, making you gasp and quickly turn around, slapping him. He didn’t stop you and instead smirked “You marked me with your whip. Can’t I mark you with my blade?” he asked, condescending.

“A slave doesn’t mark his master.” You replied, red with fluster.

“Not equal anymore? My apologize, my Empress, you get so confusing at times.” He answered with a sneer, even if his tone wasn’t sincere like his usual slave attitude, he was having fun in teasing you.

“Don’t question me. Make love to me.” You stated, not realizing the words you had picked. But it touched Commodus deeply and his attitude went back to a submitted one, wanting to savor your body one last time.

He made you lay on the bed, kissing each part of your body as he made his way on top of you, memorizing it. It could have been like this forever, yet you had ruined everything and yet he still struggled to understand why, he knew you hid something to him. And he would make you talk right before killing you. He kissed your breast, soft and round, his teeth lingering on your nipples as his hands parted your legs, settling his body between them. Galen would be mad at him for reopening his wounds but well, he would probably be executed for killing the Empress anyway. You detailed him, your nails slowly scratching the skin of his chest, then, you grabbed his chin, quickly pulling him closer, crashing your lips against his, another painful kiss. You gasped as he penetrated you with one push, your fingers burying in his hair, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper inside you. He grabbed hold of your legs, his hips giving rough pushes, he was venting, expressing all the passion and rage he held for you. One of your hands moved to his back, your fingertips on his wounds, making them bleed again, some crimson drops landing on your body.

“Argh…yes…highness!” his groan of pain strangled by moan of pleasure. His teeth biting your lower lip in return. That embrace was passionate, illegal…desperate. Yet, it was perhaps the most honest one you ever had, actions speaking more than words clumsily said.

The imperial bedroom was filled with pants, groans, gasps and moans, both inflicting pain and pleasure to each other. There was no tenderness, it was raw. And as fast as it started, it soon stopped. There had been no pause, nothing. And for long minutes, no words were spoken between the two of you, panting, his suffering body had collapsed on top of your, drenched in sweat. His head buried in your neck once again, he knew what he had to do but now he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to do it, besides you still had to talk…you sensed his hesitation and decided to break the ice, not to save your life but to rather to be honest at least whatever you died or not, things would be clear.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, your hand gently reaching to massage the back of his head “You were right, I great paranoid, just like you did before.” You said first, you could feel your heart beating faster against his as you were about to add something “I also...felt opposite emotions…I was furious at you for what you did to me and yet…I knew I had to do something to protect you.” You revealed, feeling him stiffen against your body. He lifted his head, a frown on his face, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of your words.

“What did I do to make you feel like this?” he asked, sincerely curious and touched. Could all of this had been a huge misunderstanding? or something else big enough to provoke her reaction? You took a deep breath, apprehensive of his reaction, your life and the future of the Empire would lie in his hands.

“The truth was I was terrified of…our relationship. Commodus, I am pregnant with your child.”

Thoughts? theories? next part? I'd be very happy if you comment, like or reblog ^^^love y'all

Commodus harem: @skaravile @weirdflecksbutok @lyoongx @stardancerluv @charlie-sisters @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @hopelessdisasterr @sparklygardenerlove @rosebloodstuffandthangss @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovebats @dreamingmaria @just-a-fucking-comedy @lady-carnival-stuff @sierraclegane @lemondedenimane @hvproductions @syvellsworld @papercut-paranoia @jokerflecker @five-miles-over @beatlebabe1996 @kfanniart @soulsfrostedheart18 @mayflower-gal

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi Nausicaa)) would you consider writing a story about reader bring James doctor after Montreal accident? Like he wakes up and thinks he’s dead cause she looked like an angel? But she is aware of who he is (and the booze and the groupies) so she refuses his advances as she thinks he’s just wants a new experience- smart, clean girl? And this goes on for a while until he kinda ruins it when he suggests to donate money to hospital if she goes out with him- that makes her feel like a prostitute? So next day he’s assigned a new doctor? But james throws a tantrum refuses to change bandages and take meds until she has to come to his room? And he convinces her that he’s got good intentions?

I hope you like it❤

Healing touch

When James Hetfield woke up for the first time, I wasn’t expecting him to speak. His injuries were severe, his body a patchwork of bruises and bandages. Frankly, I’d expected him to drift in and out of consciousness for at least a day or two. But of course, the man opened his eyes, blinked blearily at me, and said:  

“Am I dead?”  

I froze mid-chart. His voice was low, scratchy, and full of confusion. He squinted at me, his expression almost childlike.  

“Not quite,” I replied, keeping my tone light. “But you tried hard enough to get there.” 

 

He studied me for a long moment, his brow furrowing like he was trying to piece something together. Then he asked, “Are you an angel?”  

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Not even close,” I said, shaking my head.  

That was my first real conversation with James Hetfield.  

As a doctor, you hear things. The staff was buzzing the moment he came in. “Did you hear? Metallica’s frontman—James Hetfield—is here!” There were hushed whispers about the accident, about his reputation. Tales of his wild drinking, his fiery temper, the endless stream of women.  

I ignored it all. He was just another patient to me—a man who needed stitches, bandages, and someone to keep him alive. The rest? It didn’t matter.  

But James didn’t make it easy to keep things professional.  

He started with the harmless stuff, little comments while I checked his vitals or cleaned his wounds.  

“You’ve got magic hands,” he said once, wincing but grinning as I rewrapped his bandages.  

“Do they hurt less when you flatter me?” I shot back.  

“Worth a try.”  

It became a thing with him. Every shift, every check-up, there’d be a joke or a compliment.  

“You’re my favorite doctor,” he’d say.  

“I’m only your doctor,” I’d reply.

He’d just smile, like that was enough.  

I thought I had him figured out—a rock star used to getting his way, trying to charm me out of sheer boredom. But sometimes, I’d catch something unexpected—a quiet vulnerability in the way he’d ask questions about his recovery or thank the nurses when he thought no one was looking.  

It threw me off balance. Enough to make me curious, even if I didn’t want to admit it.  

It happened on an otherwise quiet afternoon. James was feeling better that day, his voice stronger, his humor sharper.  

“So,” he started casually as I adjusted the IV line. “How many times do I have to ask before you’ll say yes to dinner?” 

 

I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “James, I’m your doctor. It would be completely inappropriate.”  

“Okay,” he said, leaning back with a smirk. “What if I weren’t your patient? Hypothetically.”  

“You are.”  

He tilted his head, clearly undeterred. “What if I made a donation to the hospital? A big one. Like, massive. But only if you agree to go out with me.”  

I froze, the words hitting me like a slap. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. But no—he was sitting there, looking proud of himself, like he’d just solved a problem.  

“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice cold.  

“Yeah, why not? I’d be helping the hospital, and—”  

I cut him off, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”  

“What?”  

“You think you can just... buy me? Is that how this works in your world? Throw some money around and people fall at your feet?”

  

His face fell, the smugness replaced with genuine confusion. “No! That’s not what I meant—”  

“I don’t care what you meant,” I snapped, grabbing my clipboard. “I’m done here.”  

I didn’t wait for his response. I walked out of the room and straight to the nurse’s station, requesting an immediate reassignment. 

 

I thought that was the end of it. But the next day, I got called into the nurse’s lounge.  

“It’s Hetfield,” one of my colleagues said, exasperated. “He’s refusing everything—meds, bandage changes, even water. Says he won’t cooperate unless you talk to him.”  

I groaned. “Are you serious?”  

“Oh, completely. He’s throwing a tantrum. Honestly, I think he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”  

That was how I found myself standing outside his room, debating whether to walk in or just let him self-destruct. But professionalism won out. With a deep breath, I pushed open the door.  

“Really?” I said, crossing my arms as I stepped inside. “You’re holding your own recovery hostage?”  

He looked up at me, a sheepish expression on his face. “It got you to come back, didn’t it?”  

I sighed, resisting the urge to throw something at him. “What do you want, James?”  

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “To apologize,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t trying to... buy you or whatever. I just... I don’t know. I thought it was a good idea at the time.” 

I stared at him, unmoved. “That’s your apology?”  

He sat up straighter, wincing slightly. “Look, I’m not good at this, okay? I like you. I know you think I’m just some sleazy rock star trying to get another notch on his belt, but it’s not like that. You don’t treat me like some big deal. You call me on my crap. And I don’t want to screw this up.”  

His voice cracked on the last sentence, and something in me softened despite myself.  

It wasn’t an instant fix. I agreed to take him back as a patient, but I kept my guard up. He seemed to sense it, too, because he stopped trying so hard. Instead, he started showing me who he really was—a man who could be thoughtful, funny, and surprisingly kind.  

Over the next few weeks, as I watched him heal, I realized I’d misjudged him. He wasn’t perfect, but he was trying to be better. And that counted for something.  

______ 

Weeks after James was discharged, I found a package waiting for me at the hospital. Inside was a handwritten note and a single concert ticket.  

“Thank you for everything. No strings attached. -James”

I stared at the note, rereading the words over and over. It was such a simple gesture, yet it carried more weight than I wanted to admit. No flashy promises, no over-the-top declarations—just a quiet thank you. 

 

For days, I debated what to do. Part of me wanted to ignore it, shove the ticket in a drawer and pretend it didn’t exist. But another part, the part that lingered on his smile or the way he’d apologized so earnestly, wouldn’t let it go.  

By the end of my next shift, the ticket was still in my bag, tucked away but heavy with possibility. That evening, after I’d showered and changed, I reached for the phone. My fingers dialed the number he’d scrawled at the bottom of the note.   Finally, with a deep breath, I dialed.   It rang twice before I heard his voice. “Hello?”  

“Hi,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “It’s me. Your ‘favorite doctor.' 

There was a beat of silence, and then he laughed—warm and unguarded. “Hey, favorite doctor. Didn’t think I’d hear from you. How are you?”  

“I’m fine,” I said. “I just... I got your note.”  

“Oh,” he said, his voice dipping into something softer. “Right. I, uh... I wasn’t sure if you’d—”  

“I read it,” I interrupted, my lips curving into a small smile he couldn’t see. “And you know, James, I think you deserve a prize.” 

 

“A prize?” he repeated, clearly confused. “What kind of prize are we talking about here?”  

I took a breath, letting the moment stretch. “The kind where I say… I’d like to go. To your concert.”

  

The silence on the other end of the line felt like it stretched for miles, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake. But then his voice came back, almost breathless. 

 

“Are you serious?”  

“Yes,” I said, and then added with a teasing edge, “But just so we’re clear—no strings attached.”  

That laugh of his—it came fast and full of relief, like he’d been holding his breath. “No strings, huh?” he said, his tone lighter now, playful. “Okay, no strings. I’ll take it. You don’t know how much this means to me.” 

 

I could hear the emotion in his voice, and for a moment, it made my chest ache. I wasn’t sure what I was stepping into, or where it would lead, but for once, I wasn’t overthinking it.  

“Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. “You’d better put on a good show. I’m not easy to impress.”  

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice brighter now, filled with something close to joy. “I’ve got a feeling you’ll leave impressed.”  

As I hung up the phone, I stared at the ticket in my hand, the corner of it frayed where I’d fiddled with it. Against all odds, I smiled. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, this was worth the risk.