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rostekhorn · 14 hours ago

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“It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.” “I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.” Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment. “...no they don’t,” he said. “I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly. “That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

Oh my God, thank you.

So much of the criticism of the Republic that gets repeated in the prequel era, both in stories and by fans, focuses on "well the Republic is just too big," "it's just too bureaucratized," "it's just too centralized," and other generic whines taken from modern debates. And you just look at The Phantom Menace and it's like... what the hell universe have you been watching? The Republic isn't big or centralized or bureaucratized. The Republic barely exists! The Supreme Chancellor is basically the Mayor of Coruscant, powerful groups with their own private armies are free to maraud around the galaxy like warlords, and the fact that the Republic has no army means that even if they had been able to come together and condemn the invasion of Naboo, it's an open question what they could have done about it. The Republic in TPM is basically Afghanistan under Hamid Karzai, without the NATO occupation force.

The Republic, in fact, desperately needs to be a bigger and more centralized government. It's no wonder so many people were hungry for something like the Empire, and when the Rebel Alliance wins, the biggest needle it has to thread is ensuring that a government that's actually strong enough to enforce the law and slap down petty tyrants like the Trade Federation or the Hutts remains in place, while making sure that government is itself law-abiding and accountable to its people.

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

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violettwrites · 2 days ago

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the fall — daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys !! sorry i have been so mia recently, life has just been crazy and work is insane coming into the christmas season. my laptop is currently away for repairs so i wrote this on my phone — please bear with me if there’s any mistakes. im hoping to have that back soon !

if you enjoy this, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me

summary: daryl loses you during the start of the apocalypse, and then he finds you again.

( this can be read as just daryl dixon from season 1 OR apart of my trailer park!daryl series ! they both work together so it's completely up to you! )

word count: 2,110

warnings: swearing

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box

➵ rules

“(y/n)?!” daryl’s voice crackled over the phone as you stood in the emergency room, one hand pressed against your ear while the other held the phone to your other ear, trying to make sense of the words daryl was saying over the chaos of the building. the emergency department you worked in was teetering on the edge of an explosion— patients were pouring in, people were screaming, and you could hear ominous groans and growls coming from behind curtains.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!”

daryl’s voice sounded frantic through the static. you could picture him, sitting in the passenger seat of merle’s truck, hand gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles were probably white. you knew he was panicking, probably punching merle’s shoulder to drive faster, to get to you.

“daryl, i—” you started, but gunshots cut through your words. the loud crack of bullets echoed through the hallways. your heart raced as you whipped your head toward the sound, seeing military soldiers in riot gear filing into the hospital, trying to contain what they could.

“shit!” daryl’s voice shouted on the other end, hearing the gunfire through the phone. “what was that?! are you okay?!”

“i don’t know,” you spoke softly, but your voice remained panicked, ducking around a corner as you tried to figure out a way out of the hospital without getting caught in the crossfire. “the military’s here, dar. it’s bad, real bad.”

you could hear merle cursing in the background through the phone, his voice sharp with confusion and fear. he was probably just as pissed as daryl, not wanting to wait around.

“we’re comin’ for ya,” daryl said, his voice firm despite the panic you knew was coursing through him. “jus’ stay where you are.”

“no—” you shook your head, though it was pointless because he couldn’t see you. but you knew that staying in one place would only get you, or them, killed. “it’s not safe here. you need to go, daryl. get outta the city.”

daryl didn’t like how firm your voice was now, like you had accepted your fate. but he also knew you were strong, and you could hold yourself. it was everyone else he wasn’t comfortable with. “i’m not leavin’ without ya!” his words were clipped, but you could hear the desperation seeping through. “jus’ tell me where to find ya.”

“you swallowed hard, ducking down a hallway as more gunshots rang out behind you. “i’ll find you. just go!”

“not an option,” daryl growled, clearly getting more frustrated. “we’re comin’ to get ya.”

“daryl, i swear to god, just go!” you shouted, your voice shaking. you knew you had to make him leave. the city was falling apart, and if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

and then, the line went dead.

you stared at the phone for a second, frozen, before shoving it into your pocket. you couldn’t waste time standing there. you needed to survive. you needed to find a way back to him.

the months that followed were a blur. everything crumbled so fast— society, infrastructure, order. the infection spread quicker than anyone had anticipated, and soon, the world was unrecognisable. you’d managed to survive by keeping to the outskirts of the cities, staying on the move, scavenging what you could. it had been a battle to stay alive, but you never stopped thinking about getting back to daryl.

each day, you held onto the hope that he was still out there. that he, and merle, had made it. you had to believe he was still alive. it was the only thing that kept you going.

one day, after weeks of wandering, you had heard rumors from a group of survivors about a camp up near the quarry. a group had settled there, and something in your gut told you to go. you shoved what little you had into your bag and made your way towards the quarry, hoping against hope that daryl would be there.

daryl sat on the outskirts of the atlanta camp, absentmindedly sharpening his knife as he stared out into the treeline. his mind wasn’t on the task though. it hadn’t been for weeks. ever since the outbreak started, ever since he lost contact with you, he hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything.

merle was his usual self— bossy, loud, and always looking for trouble. but daryl? he was quieter these days, more withdrawn. every hunt he went on, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you, his eyes scanning every inch of the woods, hoping for a glimpse of you.

but every time, he came back empty handed.

he’d given up hope of hearing from you over the phone weeks ago, but he couldn’t give up the idea of finding you. you were out there somewhere— he just knew it.

“hey! you gonna sit there all damn day, or you gonna help me with this firewood?” merle’s voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to grit his teeth and ignore his older brother. he was tired of merle’s shit.

daryl stood up, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder without a word. he made his way towards the tree line, scanning the area out of habit. the camp wasn’t the safest; no walls, walkers always lurking, and the occasional survivor that would wander too close for comfort, but they had done a good job keeping it secure. for now.

just as he was about to head back, movement caught his eye. daryl squinted, grip tightening on the strap of his crossbow as a figure stumbled out of the woods. for a moment, he thought it was just another survior— a poor soul lost and scared like the rest of them. but then his heart skipped a beat.

it was you.

“(y/n)?” the words ripped out of him before he could stop it, and in an instant, he was running toward you, his legs carrying him faster than he thought was possible. you looked different— thinner, worn down, like you had walked through hell. but it didn’t matter. you were alive.

your eyes met his, and the world around you seemed to fall away. after weeks, months— you weren’t sure. but you had finally found him.

“daryl,” you breathed out, your voice weak but full of relief.

he didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, holding you tight. you could feel the rapid thump of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body grounding you in a way nothing else had since the world fell apart.

“i thought i lost ya,” daryl muttered, his voice rough and his breath warm against your neck.

you held him tighter, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt under his crossbow like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “i’m here,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “i’m here.”

for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other and letting the weight of the time split up crash down around you. all the fear, the uncertainty, the loss— it all seemed to fade in that moment.

when you finally pulled back, daryl kept his hands on your shoulders, like he needed to keep touching you to make sure you were real. his eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail.

“merle?” you asked softly, knowing daryl’s older brother never strayed far from his side.

“he’s back at camp,” his voice steadying. “still a pain in the ass.”

you let out a weak laugh, the sound foreign after so long without joy. “figures.”

“come on,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm as he started to lead you back toward the camp. “you need to get some rest.”

the camp was quiet as the two of you entered, the crackle of the campfire being the only sound besides the soft rustle of leaves. merle spotted you first, his eyes narrowing before recognition flashed across his face.

“well, i’ll be damned,” merle said, leaning back with a grin. “look who finally showed up.”

you met merle’s eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “good to see you too, merle.”

daryl guided you to a spot by the fire, his hand never leaving yours as if he couldn’t bear to let go. you settled beside him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. but for the first time in months, you felt safe. you were with daryl. that was all that mattered.

as the fire crackled in front of you, it’s orange glow casting flickering shadows on your face, you leaned back against a log and let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. the tension in your shoulders loosened ever so slightly, but the weight of everything you’d been through was still pressed on your chest. your eyes flickered to daryl beside you— his presence was grounding, familiar, something solid in a world that felt like quicksand.

he hadn’t let go of your hand, his rough fingers wrapped around yours as if he was afraid that if he did let go, you’d disappear again. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way this had all worn on him too. daryl wasn’t one to talk about feelings or admit when things hurt him, but you knew him better than that. the silence between you wasn’t awkward; it was full of unspoken understanding. you had both lost too much to let go of each other now.

merle started to wander off toward his tent, mumbling something about needing sleep. “you two lovebirds catch up,” he teased, but it was half-hearted. he wasn’t cruel like he used to be— at least not to you.

as soon as his brother disappeared into his tent, daryl finally spoke, his voice low, like he was afraid to break the moment. “how’d ya make it?” he didn’t ask out of disbelief, he knew you were tough, but it was out of curiosity, needing to fill in the blanks of your absence.

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, staring into the fire. the memories of being on your own flooded back; sleepless nights, close calls with walkers, finding shelter in abandoned houses, and the hunger that gnawed at your stomach daily. “i just kept moving,” you shrugged, your words so quiet they were almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire. “after that day at the hospital, i knew i couldn’t stay. i had no idea where i was going though, but i knew i had to keep going.”

daryl nodded, his eyes fixed on you, listening intently. he wasn’t the type to press you fore more details, but you could see the questions in his gaze. you gave him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. “i thought about you every day,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “it was the only thing that kept me going sometimes. knowing you were out there, somewhere.”

you watched as his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he processed your words. “i looked for ya,” he muttered, his voice rougher than before. “everywhere we went, i looked. really thought i lost ya.” the raw emotion in his voice made your heart twist. you reached out and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“you didn’t lose me. i’m right here.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. daryl’s hand found yours again, his grip firm, but this time it wasn’t just out of fear. it was something more— something unspoken but heavy between you.

“you gonna stick around now?” he asked, his voice quiter than before, almost hesitant. “stay with the group?”

you hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead yet. the idea of settling down in this camp, was both comforting and terrifying. you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you have to move, but you knew one thing for sure— you weren’t about to leave daryl again. “if you’ll have me,” you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

daryl gave you a quick, almost unnoticeable nod, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “ain’t goin’ anywhere without ya now,” he said gruffly, the tenderness in his words barely masked by his usual demeanour.

the firelight danced in his eyes, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. his presence was steady and warm beside you, and for the first time since the world had gone to shit, you allowed yourself to feel safe.

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vinvantae · 3 days ago

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✧⋄⋆ 𝐑𝐌 𝟏𝟏𝟔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 ⋆⋄✧

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: The last thing you were expecting when you opened up the door to your motel room was a beautiful stranger. Was Charles perfect timing? Or simply a distraction from the weight of the engagement ring lurking in the pocket of your jeans.

Warnings: cheating, angst, build up to smut but no smut - sexy nonetheless.

Word count: 6.7k

──── •✧• ────

The rain pattered against your windshield, the flickering warm light from the broken vacancy sign bouncing off of the droplets - your hands gripping the steering wheel as the engine purred softly, as you tried to decide your next move. It wouldn’t be long before someone, everyone, started looking for you, but you simply couldn’t drive any longer. So when you saw the sign Heartbreak Motel in the distance, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

But now you were in the parking lot, you just couldn’t get out of the car. Getting out meant that you were committing to leaving, committing to running away. It would be so much simpler to turn around, to go home. But the smart, sensible part of you was left behind, as soon as you had snuck out of your home in the middle of the night.

So, instead you finally climbed out of the car - pulling your hood over your head, and hauling your bag out of the back seat before dashing to the reception desk. You pushed through the door, the rain had soaked you through in the moments you were outside - and now you were desperate for a nice warm shower. The clerk behind the desk gave you a once over, clearly displeased that you’d got the floor wet - you gave him an apologetic smile before approaching.

“Room for one, please?” You smiled awkwardly, shivering where you stood. “I’ll take any size.”

For a second, you didn’t think he registered what you said - but before you could say another word he turned his back to you to grab a key. You took a moment to glance around the room, eyes settling on the framed photos of mountains - wondering to yourself if they were nearby. “Room 116. King-size bed, it's your lucky night.”

You gratefully accepted the key, before paying for the room and stepping across the space to treat yourself to a bag of M&Ms from the vending machine before venturing out to find your room, desperate to get out of your rain-logged socks.

You turned the key over in your hand a few times before heading out to find your room. “114… 115…ah!”

You wiggled your key in the lock, and pushed open the door - practically yelping in shock when a very tired looking man emerged from the bathroom. His eyes wide, dark hair still damp from what you assumed was a shower as the rest of his clothes looked dry. The corner of his mouth tugged up into a playful yet confused smile as you clutched your hand over your chest. “Uh, hi?”

“This is 116, right?” You frowned, looking at the number on the door. “You’re in my room.”

The stranger laughed playfully, grabbing a key from the side table. “No, you’re in my room.”

He cautiously held the key out to you so you could read the 116 engraved into the metal. You huffed and shot a glance over your shoulder at the rain still hammering down outside - you really didn’t want to go back to the reception desk. “Can you go find out if there’s another room spare?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was here first. So if anyone is getting a different room… it’s gonna be you.” He teased, gesturing to his belongings strewn around the room. “You can wait it out until the rain eases off, though.”

“Wow, so kind.” You grumbled, slumping into a chair. “...would you be offended if I took my shoes off? I think I’m gonna get trench foot if I stay in these wet socks for another second.”

The stranger shook his head. “Go for it.”

He watched as you fiddled with the laces of your shoes, the water making them harder to get off - you only had a small suitcase with you, unlike his large one currently resting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Your nail polish was chipped and your clothes were positively soaked through. “I’m Charles by the way… do you need a towel?”

You told him your name as you nodded for a towel, finally getting your socks and shoes off. It felt like you’d been standing in a puddle for days as you patted the bottom of your feet dry. The room was awkwardly silent, why wouldn’t it be? You and Charles were strangers, he didn’t owe you a small stay in the room let alone a conv-

“So, how long are you at the motel for?” His voice brought you out of your head, he was now perched on the edge of the bed. You couldn’t quite make out the shade of his eyes from the dim lights of the lamp he had on instead of the large one overhead but he looked at you intently.

“Not sure, it was kind of a last minute thing.” You shrugged, still shivering.

Charles studied you for a moment. “Please, feel free to reject my offer, but do you want a warm shower..?”

“...All my instincts are telling me not to, but I’m fucking freezing.” You laughed dryly. “Is there somewhere I can put my wet clothes?”

“Uhm, the closet has some hangers in it?”

You gave him an awkward thanks before fishing out something dry from the top of your suitcase and hiding yourself in the bathroom - head falling back against the door as you closed the door behind you. What the fuck are you doing? Are you seriously about to get naked and shower with a random man in the next room? But the feeling of your wet clothes clinging to your body was too much - so you bit the bullet and peeled your shirt over your head before turning to fight with the button of your jeans.

Before you took them off, you wiggled your fingers into the now too tight pocket and fished out a ring from your pocket, turning it in your palm for a second - it was beautiful, but it wasn’t you. Maybe that should’ve been your first sign; it was the wrong size, the metal was a colour you never wore and the gemstones were ones you would never choose for yourself, a representation of just how little he knew you. Of how little he paid attention. You honestly weren’t sure why it had taken you so long to click in your head that maybe this just wasn’t who you were supposed to be with.

But that didn’t stop how carefully you placed the ring on the side of the sink before yanking your jeans down your legs - the denim clinging uncomfortably to your skin. As you turned on the stream of water, you were pleasantly surprised to discover that the water was still warm, so after stripping off the last of your undergarments, you stepped under the stream - letting the water fall over your face.

Charles sat in the next room, perched on the edge of the bed - tapping his foot against the floor. He’d always considered himself a kind person, but not so kind he’d let a random stranger use his motel shower. But there was something about you, an instant magnetism - at first he thought it was just pity from the way the rain had soaked you through but he couldn’t deny how attracted he felt to you despite the awkwardness. His eyes flickered briefly to your suitcase, it was small, and now it was opened it looked very hastily packed - clothes bundled in without much of a care and loose toiletries had fallen a little out of the inside pockets.

He didn’t mean to be nosy, but he couldn’t help but ponder if you were just not great at packing or if there was something you’d run away from. Before he could muse any further, he heard the shower stop running - so he decided to try and be helpful and clear some of the hangers in the wardrobe for you to hang your wet clothes from - carefully folding away his clothes. He sat at the top of the bed and switched on the TV, so it didn’t look like he was just waiting for you to be done.

It was a few more minutes before you emerged in fresh clothes, towel in hand to dry your hair. “Is the hairdryer broken or am I just being stupid?”

Charles chuckled. “It’s broken. I asked at reception and they’d said they’d get it sorted out but… that was two days ago.”

“Okay, so you’ve already been here two days but they still somehow thought this room was free?” You laughed, hanging up your wet clothes in the wardrobe - your ring nestled in the pocket of your dry trousers. “That’s some serious fuck up.”

Both of you looked to the window as lightning cracked and thunder rumbled - the rain seemingly getting even heavier than before. “Doesn’t look like it’s getting any better… I’m not gonna make you go out in that.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “I really appreciate it, especially because I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“So could I, and you have stumbled right into my trap.” He wiggled his brows playfully and you giggled - there was something about him that made you feel so at ease. “You don’t have to just stand there y’know, the bed's nice and comfy.”

Charles was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t hesitate to join him, making yourself comfy propped up against the headboard. “What are we watching?”

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you - you learnt that Charles owned his own vintage jewellery company and was en route to meet a potential buyer but due to the storm that had rolled in that night - their flight had got cancelled but instead of heading all the way home, he decided to hang around until they showed up. His excuse being he liked the area but with nothing but a bar and a diner within walking distance, you weren’t sure you believed him. But with the secret you were hiding, you knew you were in no place to judge.

He was a good distraction, and when your head eventually hit the pillow - both of you finding your way beneath the covers, you could barely feel the press of the ring against your leg as you felt yourself get lost in the multitudes of colours in his eyes, his voice soft in comparison to the ever harshing sound of the rain battering against the window. You were waiting for him to kick you out, but as he rolled over just enough to flick off the light, you snuggled further under the sheets.

You could just about make out his features in the dark room, occasionally lit by the lighting flashing behind the curtain. He stretched his arms above his head before settling in, pulling the duvet up so he was practically tucked all the way in - you had to fight the urge to work your way into his arms, he just looked so cosy.

“Don’t kill me while I sleep?” You whispered.

“Only if you promise not to kill me.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

──── •✧• ────

You never slept well in new places - the bed was always too hard or too soft, it was too bright or too dark…. But this? You couldn’t recall a single night in your life where you’d woken up feeling so well rested, that every joint in your body felt like it actually worked. Charles still slept gently beside you, sheet shoved half way down his body - arm flung over the edge of the bed.

“Hey…” you whispered, giving him a gentle shake. “Charles… wake up.”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes before stretching his arms above his head. “My god, I slept like a baby… is everything okay?”

“Uhm, it stopped raining… I was gonna get up and leave but I didn’t want to just disappear without saying anything.” You smiled softly, eyes following Charles as he moved to sit up a little.

He watched as you shifted to get out of bed, padding softly over to the wardrobe to grab your formerly wet clothes. Part of him contemplated reaching out and pulling you back into bed with him - wrapping you up in his arms, but that was definitely too forward. So he decided to go a different route.

“Breakfast?”

“Sorry?”

His cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “There’s Uhm, a diner just down the road… they do pancakes and such. So, do you wanna go get some breakfast with me first? Y’know before…”

You watched as he gestured to your bags. “I’d really like that.”

The way his eyes lit up made your chest all warm and fuzzy - something you’d not felt in a long while. So you fished a fresh change of clothes from your suitcase and dipped back into the bathroom to change. Charles felt practically giddy with glee as he got up to change, he couldn’t believe his luck that the universe had seemingly dropped this beautiful, funny, smart person into his lap. You felt too good to be true.

And you were. You were currently looking around the bathroom for somewhere, anywhere to stash your engagement ring whilst you went to breakfast with the beautiful stranger waiting in the other room. In a moment of panic you end up just shoving it straight into your bra, you don't need to hide it for much longer - you’d have your own room by the end of the day. All that mattered right now was enjoying the fleeting time you knew you had left with Charles before your real life caught up to you.

You were being more selfish than you’d ever been, not only were you actively hiding from the man you promised to marry - but you were definitely giving Charles the wrong impression. You had noticed the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had traced over your exposed skin in your pyjamas.

“Ready to go?” You smiled at him as you emerged from the bathroom, Charles was sitting on the edge of the bed tying up his laces. “We can swing via reception on the way back.”

Charles pressed his lips into a line and nodded, standing up and grabbing his coat. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to get your own space, but part of him wanted to keep you in his company - and as the small of his hand ghosted the small of your back as the two of you left the room, he could practically feel the sparks. And the way your eyes sparkled as you looked up to thank him, he felt his heart skip a beat.

Who were you and why had the universe put you in his path? He hadn’t had a difficult life, in fact - he knew for a fact that he’d been beyond lucky. So what had he done to deserve this? He decided to just enjoy the moment and cautiously offer you his hand after locking the motel door behind him, unable to contain his smile when you didn’t even hesitate to wrap your hand around his - your skin warm against his. “...This is nice.”

“It is. There’s something about you that I can’t quite put my finger on” You admitted. “But I just feel so…”

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel the same, y’know.” Charles’s voice was soft as the two of you walked down towards the diner, the old 50s style building tucked away just behind the motel. “Ever since you opened your mouth there’s just something about you where I feel like I’ve known you for years. Are we a little crazy?”

You laughed. “Definitely. But right now all I want is a stack of pancakes.”

Charles pushed the door open for you, your ears being greeted by the sound of Elvis humming over the speakers of the jukebox. There weren't too many people here but enough where you didn’t feel like the two of you would be the centre of the staff’s attention. Charles led you into a booth by the window, surprising you by opting to slide onto the same side of the booth as you, his strong thigh pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

As the two of you browsed the menu, his arm draped across the back of the bench - fingertips tracing lightly against your shoulder as he commented about how weird some of the pancake toppings were. You allowed yourself to peek out of the corner of your eye to look up at him - but it was just his luck that he caught you, the corner of his mouth tugging into a playful smirk. “Like something you see, cheri?”

“I might, what about it?” You teased, propping your chin up on your hand - challenging him. The worst part? You didn’t even feel slightly guilty about it. The man you left behind not even crossing your mind as Charles’s warm hand came to rest on your thigh, brushing across the surface.

“You’re truly something else.” He purred, leaning in a little.

You should’ve made a move to stop him, but having him so close felt like the most normal thing in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as his nose brushed against yours - a warm woodsy scent resonated from his cologne, draping over you like a blanket. He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugged up into a smirk, all of the colours of his eyes seemed brighter and just as you let yours flutter to a close, ready to feel the press of his lips against your own-

“Hi guys! Welcome, what can I get you started on today?”

The two of you jumped back, cheeks heating up at the lady who was seemingly unaware she’d interrupted a moment. You practically stuttered out your order, Charles a little more smug that he’d had such an impact on you - his hand still comfortably in its position on your thigh, perhaps a little higher than before.

You shifted away a little after she left the table to go get your food, trying to slow your heartbeat but you hadn’t taken into account Charles’s determination. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your gaze up to meet his. “I think we were in the middle of something.”

The smile on your face as he leant in was anything but innocent - and as his lips finally meant yours, any reservations you had about crossing that with him were gone. The harmless flirting had turned into full on cheating on your fiancé, but the way his mouth moved against yours as he deepened the kiss? You just didn’t care.

His hand curved around your jaw when he finally pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes. “…it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you didn’t get your own room, y’know.”

“You sure? I don’t want to impose.” You couldn’t look away from him even if you tried, his eyes drew you in.

“Positive. I’m really enjoying getting to know you.” He admitted. “I don’t know what will happen when we leave this place but-“

You kissed him again to cut him off. “Let’s not think about that right now.”

His smile was sweet, not knowing your reason for why you didn’t want to think about it. About how once you leave you’d have to decide whether to break off your engagement or get married. Your fiancé wasn’t a bad man, and you did love him once upon a time… but the way Charles had made you feel in the last few hours was more exciting than anything he’d made you feel in months. But you’d gotten into this mess by being selfish - you should’ve left a long time ago, and you think he knew that hence why he proposed.

No one made you say yes.

And now, instead of being a single woman who was well within her right to make out with attractive strangers - you were betrothed. But you were too busy enjoying your time with Charles to care.

You didn’t deserve either of them.

The breakfast ended up being way nicer than you expected - and you loved listening to Charles talk about his life. Where he came from, how he’d lost his Dad, and how travelling across the country to find beautiful and unique jewellery pieces for clients was something that he loved to do - you weren’t sure if he noticed you were keeping a bit of a wall up when talking about your life, but if he did he didn’t say anything.

You laughed harder than you had in a long time when he told you his stories - a fond feeling in your chest when his eyes crinkled as he smiled. He listened to you intently when you spoke and you felt heard. Maybe he wouldn’t judge you if you told him the truth..?

No, it wasn’t worth the risk.

Instead you continued to let yourself indulge in Charles, swooning when he lent in to kiss you like it was the most normal thing in the world. The two of you talked for hours, making your way through several dishes the diner had to offer throughout the day - choking on a mouthful of milkshake when Charles made a filthy joke about the whipped cream on top. You stole his fries after claiming you didn’t want any on the side of your burger so he responded by dunking some directly in your shake.

The outside world was completely forgotten to you - people filtered in and out as the hours passed but it felt like there was no one but you, Charles and the poor waitress who kept having to come see if you wanted anything else from the menu. And after a final coffee, it was time to head back to the motel.

You knew sharing a room would be risky, you definitely needed to find a good spot to stash your ring - but as Charles gripped your hips and pushed you back against the now closed door of the motel room, his eyes darkened with lust - you knew that was a problem for later, right now - you just had to get the ring out of your bra before it fell on the floor and whatever filthy things Charles had planned for the two of you would be abruptly cut short.

“I’m just gonna freshen up first, okay? I’ve got burger breath.”

“Mhmm, sexy” he teased, kissing you again. “But whatever you need to get comfortable. I’ll wait.”

You giggled before dipping into the bathroom, with still no good place to hide your ring - you decided to go for the bold move and strip all of your clothes off, leaving you only in your underwear and hiding the ring back in your jeans pocket, no chance of it falling out unexpectedly now. You gave yourself a quick refresh before slowly emerging from the bathroom, leaning against the wall.

“…so, where were we?”

Charles growled from deep within his chest, reaching out as he sat up against the headboard. “Get yourself over here, right now.”

You sashayed across the room, making sure to exaggerate the swish of your hips before crawling up the bed until you were between his legs. You bit your lip and ran a hand up his chest. His eyes were blown with lust as they scanned your figure, before he reached out and gripped your hips - pulling you onto his lap.

“You’re insane…” He purred, nudging his nose against your jaw to tilt up your head - giving him access to the slope of your neck so he could press kisses into the soft expanse of your skin. His hand ghosted across your back. “May I?”

With a swift nod, he undid your bra - letting you reach forward to unbutton his shirt in turn. You ran your hands up his bare chest again before pressing a deep kiss to his lips, his large hands on your waist as you worked on the button of his jeans.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He moaned, his hands shifting to your ass so he could haul you as close as possible. “Tell me what you need, cheri.”

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear - you realised what a truly horrible person you were, and you hesitated. Charles’s brow furrowed, his hands quickly moving away.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His voice was soft, he grabbed his discarded shirt and draped it across your shoulders to cover you. “We don’t have to do this.”

You sighed softly, taking his jaw in your hand - brushing your thumb across his skin as his eyes flickered across your face, still thick with concern. “I want you, Charles… But, I’m not… I don’t deserve you.”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t you deserve me? Listen, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past… All I care about is us, right here, right now. Whatever it is you’re running from, take a break with me.”

Fuck.

You kissed him hard, holding his face in both hands - within an instant his hands were back on you, he shifted you both so you were beneath him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling back just enough to nudge your nose against his, your voice a low whisper. “Make me forget?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a devilish grin. “By the time I’m done with you..?”

He leant down until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear.

“All you’ll remember is my name.”

──── •✧• ────

The next few days were a blur of sex, laughter and deep conversations - studying every inch of Charles, memorising every detail before you knew it was all going to crash down. You weren’t naive, you knew Charles had started to notice how often you ignored phone calls - he never brought it up. But then he got a phone call of his own - his client was finally able to get his flight and the next day, he’d be on the move.

He hadn’t been able to tell you just yet - you’d dipped out of the room to grab some snacks for you both, so Charles decided to start packing up his things - your clothes and his had at some point merged into a pile. He grabbed a pair of trousers off of the floor, shaking your jeans out that had got tangled up with them before hearing a gentle thud. His brow furrowed as he glanced around the floor before he felt his heart stop.

A ring.

The lump in his throat was immovable as he reached down for it, the metal cold against his palm as he turned it in his palm. It was beautiful, expensive but it didn’t really seem like something you’d wear - fuck, that didn’t fucking matter - you had an engagement ring. You’d been promised to someone else before you even stepped into the room you now shared with Charles, before you’d spent time wrapped up in the sheets - crying out his name.

He knew you were running away from something, maybe even someone but not a man you’d said yes to spending the rest of your life with. He sat on the edge of the bed, just staring blankly at the wall - he had no one to blame but himself really. You were a stranger.

Except you weren’t - he’d poured his life and soul out for you, laid himself bare physically and emotionally for you… and you were engaged. The fantasy he’d created within the four walls of the motel room was exactly that, a fantasy. A lie.

You weren’t real.

“Hey, so they didn’t have the flavour crisps you wanted so I just got-”

“What’s his name?”

You frowned, placing the snacks on the nearby table. “I’m sorry?”

“Your fiancé. What’s his name?” He asked again, clenching his jaw - he couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you stood across the room.

You opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out - he let out a frustrated huff, finally standing from his spot on the bed. He took your wrist in his hand and pulled you towards him, pressing your ring into the palm of your hand - his eyes not leaving yours. “What. Is. His. Name?”

“Charl…”

“No.” His voice was sharp, nothing like anything you’d ever heard from him before. “Don’t… you don’t fucking get to do that.”

The tears were burning in your eyes, you placed the ring on the table - before placing your hands against his chest, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Charles, please… I… I never meant-”

“You never meant to what? Get caught? Use me to cheat on your fiancé? What?” He hissed, but made no move to remove your hands from his shirt. “This is fucked up.”

You let your forehead fall against his chest, Charles’s jaw clenched - he wanted to push you off but he wasn’t a violent person. So he took a deep breath and gently untangled your fingers from his clothes and took a step back.

“I…” You groaned and rubbed your eyes. “I know it was selfish to not tell you I was engaged, I was going to… there was just never a good time.”

“Never a good time?” He laughed dryly. “How about in the hours we stayed up talking? How about instead of letting me fuck your brains out on every surface in this hotel room? Oh wait, that’s what you meant when you said you didn’t deserve me, isn't it?”

“I don’t fucking deserve either of you, I’m a piece of shit.”

“You’ve got that right.” You shot him a look. “What? You think I’m gonna fucking fall for your little pity party? I told you things about me that I’ve never told anyone… And do you know what the worst part of all this is? I blame myself… I blame myself for believing that I deserved a fucking chance of happiness. Isn’t that sad?”

You stepped closer to him again, forcing him to look at you. “You do deserve happiness, Charles.”

“That’s not even the worst part… I got a call from my client, I was going to ask you to come with me.” He frowned. “There’s a beautiful 5 star hotel, overlooking the beach… all the cocktails you could want. Was going to spoil you… make love to you on the high thread count sheets, on the loungers by our private pool… in the hot tub…”

“Charl...” You felt breathless, but as you reached up to take his jaw, he caught your wrist in his hand - you swallowed deeply. The once bright colours of his eyes seemed dull as he looked at you now. “We could still-”

This time he didn’t look angry, just disappointed. “No we can’t. You need to pack your bags and go home… your family is worried about you, I’m sure he’s worried about you too.”

“I-I could call… clear everything up and then we-”

“There is no we anymore, I’m not even sure there ever was.” He sighed, moving away from you to start packing his bags up. “I think it’s best for us to be strangers again.”

You choked back a sob. “You don’t mean that, Charles… please.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Charles continued to move around the room, gathering his things - after one more feeble attempt to take his hand, he looked to you. The heartbreak on your face was almost enough for him to cave, to wrap you up in his arms and tell you it was all going to be okay…. But it wasn’t.

“You never told me his name.” His voice was soft, like there was no anger left for him to give.

“…Nathan.”

Charles nodded, zipping up his suitcase. “How come you ran?”

“Charles-“

“No, I want to know about the man who you cheated on… indulge me, won’t you?” He huffed. “I’m leaving either way, so you may as well just lay it all out on the table.”

A soft sigh left your lips as you sat on the edge of the bed, instead of sitting beside you - Charles opted to sit in one of the empty chairs. It almost felt like an interrogation.

You jumped as lightning cracked outside the window, thunder rumbling through the building - the weather mirroring that of the night you’d met but the circumstances were much different now. He was no longer a beautiful, kind stranger who’d let you shelter away from the storm - he was the man who you’d used for your own gain, who now looked at you with an unreadable expression.

“...I met Nathan through a friend.” You explained, playing with your fingers. “It wasn’t love at first sight, not for me anyway. He was always good to me, easy… safe. But, it never really felt like he knew me. Like, the ring is a prime example, none of it is anything I’d choose for myself… so, sorry, but I can’t ease your conscience, Nathan isn’t some nasty abusive man.”

“So, you ran away because you’re… bored? Do you know what you could’ve done? Broken up with him. Sounds like he deserves far better than you.”

His words were like a knife to the chest - each word twisted it deeper but he was absolutely right. “I know I should’ve… but… If I knew I was going to meet you then-“

“Oh don’t.” He scoffed, grabbing his jacket and standing up - hauling it over his shoulders. “You need to go home, tell Nathan what you did and let that man go find someone who actually fucking cares about him.”

You frowned. “I can’t make that decision for him.”

That stopped Charles in his tracks. “So you’re saying, if you tell him the truth and he forgives you… you’re gonna stay with him? After you were ready to leave him to travel with me?”

He watched as you shrugged so nonchalantly- he really didn’t know you at all. The woman he knew was sweet, funny… you were selfish, mean. Every word that left your mouth buried the woman he thought he knew deeper and deeper into the earth. You were willing to stay with a man you didn’t really love, for what? So you weren’t alone?

“What would happen when you inevitably got bored of me?” He questioned. “Would you run again? Would you go back to him?”

“I don’t think I’d get bored of you.”

Charles snorted. “Reassuring. Love isn’t supposed to be all excitement and fireworks 24/7… you can be in love but not have your heart racing. And I’m not saying what you have with Nathan is love, it very clearly isn’t - but if you’re always looking for the next exciting thing, you’re never going to stop and enjoy the moment you’re actually living in.”

“…I just don’t like the idea of being alone.”

He had to fight every urge he had to roll his eyes, even being in the same room with you was starting to exhaust him. “Well, you deserve to be.”

You finally snapped, there was only so much scolding you could take. “You know what? Fuck you. You don’t know shit about me…”

“So all of the stuff you told me was a lie, huh?” Charles taunted you, his words like venom. “Like all the stories about your family, your friends… Those were all lies too? Has anything that’s happened these last few days been real?!”

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. “Do you honestly think that this was something, Charles? It’s not even been a week.”

He took a step back, swallowing heavily - this time it was you who had the fire in them.

“You are delusional. Yes we had fun, yes we had a couple little chats but that doesn’t mean that any of this was real.” You spoke, voice thick with disgust.

Charles almost couldn’t believe the woman standing before him was the same woman who he’d spent the last few days with - you didn’t even look the same. Your kind eyes were full of hatred and every muscle seemed tense.

“You’re vicious.” His heart was pounding in his chest as he stared you down.

The laugh that escaped you had no humour in it. “Well, that’s what you get for putting your faith in someone you met less than a week ago. No one is ever going to be able to live up to your fantasies… you need to get down from whatever cloud you’re on and join us in the real world.”

“Get the fuck out.” He spat. “You can come get your shit when I’m gone.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go until then?”

“Anywhere but here.” He swung the door open, the rain crashing down - raindrops splashed into the room as lighting cracked once again.

You scoffed. “Ironic you’re trying to send me out into the weather that brought us together in the first place.”

“Let’s just say I’m fixing my mistake then and fuck off… I don’t care where you go but I’ll be gone when you get back.”

The two of you were in a stand-off, not a single part of you wanted to go out in that weather and there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted you to stay in here. You folded your arms across your chest and quirked a brow, challenging him to do something - you knew he was never going to physically throw you out. “Get out.”

“I’m not going out in that!” You snapped. “And close the fucking door, you’re getting wet.”

You felt smug as he huffed, closing the door. But before you could get another word in, he turned his back and started grabbing the last of his belongings - shoving them carelessly into his suitcase, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The look on your face slowly fell as he dipped into the bathroom - you’d call him out on his shit so why did you feel guilty? You were right. He didn't know shit about you - he was a stranger. But when his eyes finally met yours, for what felt like the final time, you couldn’t help but feel a tug in your chest- telling you to wrap your arms around him and swear you could fix this.

“...So this is it?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yep. And I know you don’t give a single shit about what I think, but I really do hope you turn your life around and get better - because I know there’s a good person somewhere in there.”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. “And I hope you find someone who treats you how you deserve… because I know you’re a good man.”

There wasn’t any particular response you were hoping for, but him leaving the room without another word definitely wasn’t it - not even slamming the door behind him, just shutting it with a simple click. Leaving you to stand alone in the middle of the room that once felt like a safe haven. As you glanced around, it truly felt like he had never been here - it was just a mess of your belongings strewn across the furniture and floor.

Feeling sorry for yourself, you decided there was nothing more you wanted right now than a stiff drink - and you remembered seeing a bar across the street. You scoured the room for something to throw over your head to protect you from the rain before spotting an umbrella in the corner - definitely not yours but clearly not important enough to Charles for him to take so you snagged it.

As the rain attempted to smack the umbrella from your hands, you jogged across the street and stepped into the bar. It was dimly lit, the light from the flickering hotel sign still visible as you slumped down onto a bar stool - ordering your usual. You fiddled with your ring, flipping it between your fingertips - maybe Charles was right, maybe going back and finally leaving Natahan would be good for you. You didn't love him, and maybe he deserved to find someone who could.

“Definitely not just a drizzle out there, huh?”

Your eyes flickered up from your drink at the sound of a spanish accent, a handsome man smiled softly at you. “Yeah, the wind nearly stole my umbrella from me.”

He chuckled softly. “Can I buy you another drink? I’m Carlos.”

After telling him your name and drink choice, you took a second to look back at your engagement ring - the good person Charles thought was in you was yet to rear her head, so with no shame at all - your ring once again disappeared into the pocket of your jeans and you turned back to Carlos with a smile.

Whilst Charles was model handsome, Carlos was like a Disney prince with thick dark hair, his deep brown eyes scanning over you as his lips curved into a playful smile. You propped your elbow up on the bar, resting your chin on your hand - practically fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“So, Carlos…” you purred, testing his name on your lips, and enjoying how it tasted. “You staying nearby?”

──── •✧• ────

If you saw me post this already but with Jenson… I decided I wanted to change it so no you didn’t

So whilst this collab ended up falling through I really liked what I wrote and wanted to share it with people so here you go! Thank you to @formulaforza and @silverstonesainz/ @singaporesainz for the idea and extra smooches to you Dani for beta reading it for me x

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc x you #leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #x reader #yes I already posted this #no you didn’t see it

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delulustateofmind · 2 days ago

Text

Leaving So Soon?

Yan!Suguru x Reader Drabble

TW: Semi-rough sex, Suguru (a warning in itself) though he didn't defect, mentions of murder/kidnapping, yan behaviors. Mentions of drinking. MDNI

WC: 1k

a/n: idk what came over me this morning. Jeez.

You had been the one to pull him from his darkest thoughts, guiding him away from choices he would have made without you. Killing all non-sorcerers—that would have been easy without you, wouldn’t it? But here you were, in his arms, binding him, keeping him grounded as he pressed his hips up into you. The soft cries and whimpers you let out, your face flushed and eyes glistening, only drove his obsession deeper. Each thrust was purposeful, as if to cement his claim on you.

As he moved inside you,rolling his hips upward, his mind spun back to the night you first met, the way you looked in that tiny black dress, unsteady on heels you could barely walk in. He rolled his hips, making sure you felt every inch of him pressing into those soft, sensitive walls, wanting to etch himself into every part of you. How dare you look at him like that? The same way you did a year ago when Shoko introduced you to him at that karaoke bar. He could tell you weren’t the party type—your eyes were too soft, too pure. You were the kind of girl you bring home, the kind of girl who should never be tainted by anyone else.

You were his good girl.

He remembered how you’d stumbled into his lap that night, laughing, looking up at him with such trust in your eyes. An awful decision, really. He’d watched you sip water from the glass he held to your lips, only for you to whine when Suguru took your cocktail away. But he had shushed your little protests, pulling you close, burying your face against his neck and cradling you softly. He hadn’t known you long, but that didn’t matter. You were his. And he’d make sure of it.

“You love me, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice soft yet laced with something far darker, as he looked up at you, his violet eyes intense, almost unhinged. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he rocked you down onto him, ensuring each movement struck that perfect, devastating spot. You could hardly hold back, eyes rolling as the pleasure built.

Then, his grip tightened, his hands stopping you from moving. “I asked you a question, baby,” he murmured, the sweetness in his tone undercut by an unmistakable edge. “Or did I fuck you dumb already?”

“S-Sugu… I love you,” you panted, voice weak and breathy. His fingers squeezed your cheeks, forcing you to look at him as he took your lips in a demanding, possessive kiss, tasting every corner of your mouth as if claiming it for himself.

“Then why,” he murmured, voice dangerously low, “did Shoko tell me something… interesting?” He pulled back, eyes narrowing before ramming his hips up, tearing a loud moan from your lips as you fell against him, body shaking from his sudden intensity.

“Sugu—” you cried out, but he only scowled, his face inches from yours.

“Don’t fucking ‘Sugu’ me,” he hissed, the words dripping with menace. His pace grew relentless, the harsh slap of skin on skin filling the room. “Shoko said you got some internship. In the States. Fuck you’re way too tight. That you’re leaving next week.”

You tried to squirm, but he held you tight, pressing your trembling form against his chest as he thrust through your climax, teeth bared as he felt you clench desperately around him. The intensity was unbearable, his strength overwhelming, leaving you breathless as you bit down on his shoulder, hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck—Sugu, I’m sorry! I was… I was going to tell you…” Your voice broke as he continued his unforgiving rhythm, every thrust a reminder of who you belonged to.

“Were you?” His voice was a deadly whisper, inky hair falling over his eyes as he looked at you with a dark, feral intensity. “Were you just going to walk out? Disappear like some worthless whore?” His tone was venomous, his anger palpable, though his hands cradled you as if you were something precious—and breakable. He angled you, slipping into a new position, rolling you to your side, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“You’re my good girl,” he murmured, almost soothingly, his tone now soft, possessive. “You wouldn’t leave me like that, would you? You know I need you. Only you.” His thrusts grew deeper, his grip on your thigh tight as he lifted your leg, pressing even further inside you. Tears fell from your eyes, the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain leaving you clinging to him, sobbing apologies as you begged him to forgive you.

“Don’t even think about leaving,” he growled, his voice a guttural whisper against your ear. “I’d do anything to keep you. You’re mine, you understand? Mine.” His hand slid up, gripping your face as he forced you to meet his gaze. “If you left, I’d kill everyone you cared about. One by one. Then I’d find you, keep you locked away, chained to my bed, barefoot and pregnant until you remember you can’t belong to anyone else.” His words were a feverish vow, every syllable laced with unrestrained possessiveness. His hips stuttered as he reached his peak, spilling himself deep inside you, marking you as his own. His breath was heavy, his body pressing down on yours as he held you there, his chest heaving as he rode through his release.

“So, what’s it going to be, princess?” he whispered, voice ragged but dangerous, laced with a thinly veiled threat. “That internship… or staying here, with me?”

Your voice was shaky, broken. “Y-you, Sugu… I’ll stay with you.”

A twisted smile curved his lips as he held you close, his voice a low, satisfied murmur. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Almost made me lose my mind, you know that? But that’s alright… I don’t mind going a little crazy if it’s for you.”

#jjk #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto blurb #yan!geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto x reader #geto smut #suguru smut #yandere suguru geto

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yanderefarm · 6 hours ago

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I need us pretending/threatening Emil with a divorce even after saying we wouldn’t 🙏🙏

this is a part 2 to this story

in your villain arc fr. i know if emil knew how you were manipulating him and playing him like a puppet he wouldn't even be mad he'd be like "thats hot wtf"

cw;; drugging, cheating, non-con (implied), abuse, manipulation

oh your poor husband, he's so pathetic and easy to break.

after your brutal breaking of his body with the cheating scandal you had been oh so generous to help him rebuild his all his lost favour. his ever loving husband who loved him past his worst flaws gave him a better reputation just by staying by his side. all he had to do was give into you, take you places, stop holding you at arms length like he was afraid of you running away and getting close to him at the same time. really all you wanted was more of his love and if that meant you had to break him down to nothing then you guess that's what you would do.

you walked into his office to find him surrounded by people, a familiar sight since his last scandal. you pushed past them to his desk, watching emil flinch away from your presence. you didn't need to yell and get angry this time, you knew exactly how to break him.

"i want a divorce."

you placed the newspaper on the desk to punctuate your sentence, the headline was a young noble woman's testimony of how the king had cornered her at the last royal banquet. another lie you had paid a pretty penny to get out there. you knew emil's head had been fuzzy since the last scandal, all it took was hiring a woman from a family desperate for money to force herself on him and then lie about it. he didn't even remember the night, he couldn't argue with you about it.

you heard his pathetic sob. that sound he would never usually make in front of anyone else. you turned back to see him still surrounded by his advisors and other noblemen but among their shocked faces you could see your husband had tears in his eyes.

"out." you ordered and they very quickly filed out leaving you two in a familiar position.

you walked back to the desk and stared down at him. your husband, already a broken and confused mess, hung his head like a kicked puppy dog so you couldn't see his eyes you could only hear him crying. you let out a heavy sigh.

"what am I supposed to do, emil? you clearly don't love me."

"that's not-"

"how many more women do i have to find out about before you admit it?"

"i don't remember that night... i don't think- i-"

a silence formed between you both only interrupted by his crying.

"i remember that night. i remember you left the party early to get some fresh air and you didn't come back."

he was shaking.

"..... if you had just talked to me we could have come to an agreement about concubines. if you didn't want to be with a man all you had to do was tell me. you don't have to keep humiliating me publicly and then lying about it."

"im not ly-"

you slammed your hands on the table making him flinch.

"you are. you're lying to me. you slept with the maid and then you lied about it and i forgave you. i forgave you because i thought you would learn your lesson."

"please... please punish me again please anything else... kill me, torture me, hate me, anything but leaving me..." he finally looked at you and you could see his pink eyes were cloudy and confused as tears dripped down his face.

".... that's pathetic emil. you want me to beat you but..." you forced your own tears along with your voice cracking. "you can't even say you love me."

emil tried to stand up, stumbling against the desk as his legs wobbled underneath him.

"don't leave me. please." his hand weakly grabbed your wrist

"do you love me?"

"yes."

"how am i supposed to trust that? how am i supposed to trust you? can you even say it? can you tell me you love me?"

"i...i...."

you ripped your hand away from him making him stumble again.

"I'm going to get the divorce papers ready. you're going to sign them."

you turned on your heel and left your husband sobbing in his office.

your plan to make the great emil landorr your mindbroken bitch was going along perfectly. it was going to be harder to drug him when you moved into the queen's palace but you were confident that the separation would drive him just as crazy.

#replies #yandere oc #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #yandere x reader #yandere king

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achilles-rage · 3 days ago

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thirteen crows: epilogue

summary: some insight on how they treat you weeks, and months later.

word count: 1.8k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: i wasn’t gonna post an epilogue to this, but i sort of liked the idea of looking at their dynamic months later, so i decided to write this short little drabble-type thing. enjoy<3

warnings: stockholm syndrome(??), controlling behaviour, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

three weeks later

You leave your boss’s office with tears in your eyes, keeping your head down as you walk to the kitchen to catch your breath so no one can see the sadness written across your face. You were barely in his office for 10 minutes, and he wasn’t that upset with you, but you’ve never been good with confrontation.

He had pulled you into his office before you started your shift and showed you some reviews that he found online about the Thirteen Crows that day. There were two reviews with your name specifically added, ranting about how bad your service was and how rude you were to them.

Your boss wasn’t necessarily mad; he knows that you usually have no problems with customers, but he was still rightfully worried about the reviews.

You try to finish your shift with a smile; desperate to not receive any more negative reviews about your service, but it’s difficult. Either Eddie or Buck has been by your side for the last few weeks; ever since you found out who they really were, and while they make butterflies erupt in your tummy sometimes, they also scare the hell out of you, which doesn’t help your nerves.

They told you they wouldn’t hurt you, not if you follow the rules, and you want to believe that, but you feel on edge every time you’re with them. Which is most of the time. You’re afraid to do anything; afraid that something you see as harmless will send them into a rage.

You also know that there’s no escaping them either. You know why they’re with you all the time outside of work; they won’t let you leave them.

When Buck finally picks you up from your shift, you stay silent in his passenger seat, eyes focused on the passing scenery as his thumb rubs gentle circles on your exposed thigh. Buck can sense your unease; it’s different than usual.

You tried to speak to Tara after your shift; she’s noticed the way you’ve shut down in the past few weeks, but you don’t talk to her. You don’t know how they find out, but they always know when you speak to anyone in a way that’s not just merely being friendly, and they do not like it.

“How was work, sweet girl?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. You blink a few times as you snap out of your daze, then look over at him, chewing on your lip. You don’t want to tell him about your boss and the reviews. God knows what he and Eddie would do.

They’ve continued killing, although they haven’t told you anything about it. They monitor your screen time, and everything else you do, so you don’t know the exact details. You’ve heard people talking about it at work, though, and you’re sure it’s more of the people they’ve met through work that have “deserved it.”

“Good. Long night.” you speak in a quiet tone, shrugging. His eyes dart from the road to you for a second, inspecting your face. His eyes narrow, like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he doesn’t push any further. You’re thankful for this, because you really do like your boss, even though your conversation with him has you on edge.

When you get back to Buck’s apartment, he helps you get ready for bed, and then you’re off to sleep, but not before his head is between your thighs yet again, desperately chasing the taste of your release.

The next morning, Eddie comes to pick you up and takes you to your apartment to pick up some more of your things, then brings you to his house for dinner. He sits at the dinner table while you prepare dinner, and when he, you, Buck, and Christopher sit down to eat, his smile is wide. He loves seeing you like this; his little family, finally complete.

You spend the night at Eddie’s house, your back pulled firmly against his chest, and while you’re not completely relaxed, you sleep soundly. You know Eddie wouldn’t dare do something with Christopher home, and these kinds of nights are the most relaxing for you.

six months later

You gasp softly when someone runs into your shoulder and makes you drop the can you’re holding. You turn quickly and look up to the man that’s run into you, and he looks down with an apologetic smile, raising his shoulders slightly.

You scramble to pick up the can and put it into your cart as he murmurs an apology, but you shut him down immediately.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t looking.” you tell him, although you know that he’s the one that ran into you. You’re so used to immediately backing down that it’s become second nature.

His eyes glance down at the dented can in your cart, and he licks his lips before he speaks again.

“You really shouldn’t buy that one; it can make you sick.” he tells you, stepping a little closer and ducking his head to speak in a quieter voice. With the gleam in his eye and his smile, you’re pretty sure he’s trying to flirt, even though the actual words don’t seem especially flirty.

You give him a smile as you feel your cheeks heating up. Of course you know that already, but this interaction surprised you, and you barely had time to think about your actions.

“Right. Thanks.” you tell him, trying to keep your body language disinterested. You know how Buck and Eddie would see this, and you don’t want anything to happen to this handsome stranger because they felt unnecessarily threatened.

You also don’t want them to take away your outings. They finally rewarded you with unsupervised time outside of the house to run errands, and it took months to finally gain their trust. You don’t want to do anything to ruin it now.

“I’m Will, by the way.” he says, seeming not to get the hint. You give him a tight-lipped smile and grip the handle of your cart, beginning to walk further down the aisle.

“I should really go.” you tell him, and while his brows furrow in confusion, he doesn’t try anything else. You let out a shaky breath once you’re out of the aisle, trying to stop the shaking in your hands as you create more distance between you and the man.

You don’t bother with the rest of the list. You’ve already gotten most of the items, and you don’t want to risk anything else happening.

You pay with the cash Eddie gave you before he dropped you off, and you make sure to keep the receipt and the change in a safe place until you can give it to him. They keep track of your finances, and ever since you lost your job, you have no choice but to rely on them completely.

When you get to his truck, you get right into the passenger seat and let Eddie put the groceries in the back. When he gets back in the driver's seat, he reaches across the centre console and pulls your head toward him, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss.

He sees your nervous expression when he pulls away, and he narrows his eyes as he keeps a hand on your cheek. He doesn’t have to prompt you though, as the words tumble from your lips before you can even think. It’s better to tell him than for him to find out later.

“There was this guy in there, he bumped into me. He apologized, tried to talk to me, but I walked away. I didn’t want to talk to him, I promise.” He smiles at your last sentence, tilting his head to the side as he looks into your wide eyes. They’ve trained you so well.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. You didn’t do anything wrong, did you?” he asks. His voice is soft, but there’s a hint of condescension as well.

You shake your head quickly, frowning, and he smiles wider. He rubs his thumb along your cheek, and you let out a small sigh, leaning into his gentle touch. You can’t help but relish in his soft touches; they’re the only ones you’ve really interacted with since you got fired from your job 4 months ago, and if it weren’t for them, you’re sure you’d be going stir crazy.

They leave you at Buck’s that night, all cuddled up in Buck’s bed with your favourite show on and promise they’ll be back soon. They give you sweet kisses and tender touches before they go, knowing that you won’t leave while they’re gone, not anymore. And when they come back, they know you won’t ask about the specks of blood on their clothes, or the glints in their eyes, even though you know about everything.

They’re always especially worked up when they get back from nights like this, and you’ve learned not to ask questions. They happen less often now that you’re with them all the time, but they still have this desire to go out, just the two of them, and have some of their own fun.

You know they’ve done something; you know it has to do with the man from the grocery store, and you know they won’t tell you a thing, which you’re thankful for. You thought you’d be more used to their actions after so long, but it still makes your stomach churn when you think about it.

You let them lay you down on Buck’s bed anyway, and although you hate knowing what they’ve just done, you like how much attention they pay to you when they get home. They’ve showered by the time they touch you, so you tell yourself that what they’ve done is gone. Their slate is clean, their actions are washed away; down the drain and never to be thought of again.

As they pay attention to your neck, and your pretty chest, and your plush tummy and thighs, they’re so glad they thought of their plan months ago. You’re completely dependent on them without your job, and that’s exactly how they want you.

It was easy to make those fake reviews; they knew that the original two weren’t enough, so they kept adding new ones until your boss had no choice. And although they knew you’d be upset about the harsh words, they also knew that they’d be able to make you feel better. You’d forget all about your shitty job when you’re completely taken care of by them, and they’ll make sure to give you anything you want as long as you keep being their sweet girl.

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glade-constellation · 2 days ago

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Okay, finally about to get all my thoughts down after yesterday’s episode. I’m going to start with Moon since he’s being the one most talked about.

This is going to be a long post, so I’ll put a cut here <3

Moon

A lot of people are hating on how Moon reacted to Sun’s current trauma. I agree that he is not handling the situation well. As much as I understand where he’s coming from, running from Sun is not going to help at all. Sun desperately needs his family with him right now. No one else may have considered Nexus daily anymore, but it was still clear that Sun cared. He basically had to kill his own brother. Not only that, he was made to feel as if he chose to kill his own brother. (There was no choice in the matter, it was physiological torture set up specifically to make Sun feel guilty for his actions. Sun may have threw the “fireball” but Dark was the one who forced him to.)

Anyways, back to Moon. I think what a lot of people are forgetting is that Moon also just lived through a trauma. He was kidnapped and tortured, almost killed before Ruin saved him. The only reason Ruin saved him, as Ruin explained himself, was because Ruin hated Dark and Nexus. It was not because he wanted to save Moon, it was because he wanted to thwart Dark and Nexus’ plans. When he’s finally on his way to getting out, he finds two of his brothers being tortured, and almost watched one of them die before he got there. (I think that’s why he started screaming when he did. He was buying time for Solar by directing Nexus’ attention at him.) He then watched Nexus die. He was not close to Nexus in any way, but watching anyone die in front of you is not great for your mental health.

After all this, Moon is then told he has to not only process his own trauma, but take on Sun’s trauma as well. Moon does want to help, but he is too overly burdened by his own problems and knows he wouldn’t be of any help. To make up of his guilt, he is coving up his own trauma response by saying he’s doing it for Sun. He very likely knows this isn’t going to help Sun emotionally, but he feels he can stop any farther trauma to Sun by stopping whatever’s causing it. It’s both genuinely feeling this is the only way he can help Sun, and feeling guilt over not being able to help him in the way that is currently needed.

Is that the best response? No. But is it a very Moon response? Yes. This is actually exactly how he used to fix problems. Moon should not have abused Sun in the way he did, and he still needs to apologize for that, but Moon genuinely thought in some of these instances that he was helping Sun. He is not an emotionally available person, so he cannot handle his own emotions on top of others. So he does the next best thing he can think of and tries to stop what’s causing the trauma. Moon has just as much trauma as Sun does, people just don’t tend to feel that way because he took out his emotions on Sun to process them. At least this time he’s not taking it out on Sun. At least he is trying to actually stop the problem.

All in all, Moon isn’t as in the wrong as everyone keeps saying. Yes, he definitely should go talk to Sun. Hell, even just sitting in the same room as Solar does all the talking would be a big help. Just showing that he is there for Sun. But then Moon would feel more guilty, because he wouldn’t see how he’s helping and would still want to go after Dark and Ruin. He may seem apathetic, but he genuinely is trying to fix the situation.

(Edit : I also think people are forgetting that Moon had absolutely no insight as to what the real situation was. Sun did not tell them he was forced to make a choice, he simply saw Nexus explode. He probably thinks Sun intentionally killed Nexus. He does not realize the true gravity of the situation like we do.)

Sun

Obviously, Sun is the most emotionally distressed over the situation. The entire time he was talking with Nexus, a few episodes before his death, Sun tried to say he didn’t care about Nexus. Nexus saw through the lies, he knew Sun for an entire year by this point. They used to be brothers, Nexus wasn’t going to believe Sun didn’t care because Sun never stopped caring. As much as Sun was hurt by Nexus, that was still his brother. It’s kind of similar to his feelings of Moon at the beginning of the show. Moon did some genuinely terrible things to him, but Sun still cared. The only reason this situation is any different is because Moon would sometimes try and show regret over his actions, and Nexus blatantly didn’t care.

Sun found out his brother was kidnapped, had to bargain with the enemy to try and get past another enemy, almost got caught in the crossfire of a deadly fight, and was then tortured by someone he used to call a brother. He was almost forced to watch Solar die purely as a revenge tactic to get back at him, and Sun would have felt it was his fault Solar died. The was only stopped by Moon rushing in to start fighting. Right when it looked like Nexus was about to kill everyone, Dark forced Sun into a rigged choice between killing his brothers. (Edit: It was Ruin’s device that killed Nexus. Sun had no part in physically killing him.)

Once again, really want people to understand that Sun did not kill Nexus. He was simply made to feel like he did. It’s psychological torture, make someone feel as if they are choosing a certain outcome when you are actually in control so that the person will be traumatized by “their own” actions. Dark was very in control of the situation. He very much knew who Sun was going to choose, but forced him into doing so in a way that would make Sun feel like it was his fault. Sun is in no way at fault for Nexus’ death. That is completely on Dark.

In the end, Sun is forced to watch his former brother, someone he still cares very deeply about, die a very violent and painful death. He is forced to think he is the one to cause it. He was already in high distress before hand from Moon’s kidnapping and attempted rescue. Now he is dealing with what is quite possibly his worst trauma yet. This forces him to shut down and dissociate from the problem.

Notice how Sun forces himself not to breakdown until he gets back to the house, and even then he goes to his own room and very quietly starts to cry. Even while he was in extreme emotional pain, he was trying to be considerate of the people around him. He didn’t want to force them to handle him while he was suffering, so he made his suffering as silent and unseen as he could. Because Sun never stops caring.

To say the least, Sun is in an unbearable amount of pain right now. It will be a very long road to recovery for him, if he ever recovers from this.

Solar

Solar seems to be the most level headed in the situation, which isn’t an odd thing. He will usually take on that role in these types of situations. He was also one of the first to say killing Nexus was their best option. He was probably the most prepared for this kind of outcome.

The thing is, as much as Solar might not like it, he is still an Eclipse. He still deals with his problems like most Eclipses do, though arguably better than others. He finds work to do, and he drowns himself in it to avoid his own feelings. Eclipses are kings of repression. Solar doesn’t want to acknowledge his own feelings, so he’s going to forget he even has them.

His current choice of work? Helping Sun. To him, Sun is obviously more hurt than he is, so his own emotions don’t matter. He feels Sun needs more help than him, so he’s not going to show any distress so that the others will focus on Sun and not him. If they focus on him, he will have to feel his feelings, and he doesn’t want that. He wants Sun better, because to him Sun obviously is the one more in need.

I think that’s one of the reasons he got so upset with Moon over the whole “go talk to Sun” situation. No one is helping Sun, and he’s confused on why no one is helping. Sun obviously needs it, why is everyone just leaving him alone? They need to go check on Sun, he’s obviously not okay right now. Why is no one helping Sun?

I thinks there’s a lot of factors at play here, besides just repression. I think is also somewhat projection and reliving trauma too. He basically lived the beginning of his life without help when he was in emotional distress. His Moon never cared about him, blamed him for Sun’s death, and constantly verbally and physically abused him. He was never allowed to grieve. Seeing Sun hurting like this and not getting help is reminding him of his own feelings in past situations where he never got help. He may not realize it, but it’s a possibility. Also, he still has the attachment to his own Sun. I don’t think he likes seeing any Sun (besides Dark) in any sort of pain.

Then there’s the last thing.

Solar had to kill his Moon.

This situation is striking way too close to home.

Solar is probably the only one who genuinely can feel empathy for Sun’s current situation. He’s the only one who knows what it feels like to “pull the trigger”. Nexus was also acting very similar to how Solar’s Moon used to act. And Solar never got any help when it happened. He didn’t even tell anyone, he covered it up and tried to forget. I think Lunar is the only one who knows about it, and Lunar never did anything about it. Solar was forced to go through nearly this exact situation, and he does not want to see Sun go through what he had to go through.

(On top of all this, Solar was very close to Nexus before his death. He’s not showing it, but he is very much hurt by what is happening. The only reason he is probably not in more distress is because he prepared for this being a possible outcome.)

Earth

To be completely honest, I have been way more focused on the others in this situation. Earth is also one of the easiest characters to read, as she verbally voices her feeling to everyone and has never really felt the need to hide them. We already know she’s upset by the situation, and is probably going to have some sort of mildly poor coping mechanism, but she is going to be the most emotionally okay out of everyone. Not because she is feeling okay, but because she’s the most in tune with her own feelings, and with how to properly handle those feelings.

I’m not saying she’s going to be perfectly okay over this. She is obviously still very hurt and troubled. I am also not trying to downplay her emotions. She is definitely going to need the others to help her. This portion isn’t short because I don’t like her, it’s just short because she is genuinely the best off in this situation. She knows how to find help when she needs it and, even better, she will ask for it.

Monty & Lunar

I’m sticking them together because I feel very similar ways about them.

I do not understand their reactions to the current situation.

Monty is more understandable. He was always closer to Moon than he was to Nexus. That much was very obvious. The moment Moon came back they got drunk and partied, and then feel right back into their old friendship. Monty was seemingly completely unaffected by Nexus’ change of heart. He very much only cares about themself and Earth.

The way he’s acting currently is not helping the situation. At all. It’s even worse than Moon’s reaction, in my opinion. Moon at least feels he is helping Sun. Monty is doing nothing. “Nexus is dead? Cool. Let’s hide this from Earth because it will hurt her and I can’t stand seeing that.” That is going to hurt Earth a lot worse in the long run if she was never told. She doesn’t like lies, even by omission. You already are hurting others by being apathetic, do not hurt Earth because seeing her hurt will hurt you. That’s fucked up.

Then there’s Lunar. I’ve already talked about my feelings on him, but I still cannot figure him out. He’s always been a very apathetic character when he’s not interested or running from emotional pain. But this? This feels almost malicious. He doesn’t seem to care. Usually when he is running, he’ll verbally tell everyone he knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s bad. But right now he is not saying anything. His is either dissociating from the problem to the point he is numb, or he is so genuinely unbothered that there isn’t any sort of care in his heart.

This doesn’t feel like Lunar. This has never been his reaction to anything before. We haven never seen this from him at this scale. It feels so violently out of character for someone who is very emotional and loud about it.

At this point, I am starting to wonder if the Star power is having a bigger effect on him than we think. We all know that the Astrals deal with apathy to most things. Even Castor and Pollux has said they don’t react to things like most people expect them to. They do not have the ability to care in a way the feels human. Since Lunar has been training to become an Astral, I’m starting to wonder if this will begin to mentally change him as well.

I am not saying that apathy is a bad thing to have. I am not saying Lunar is wrong to feel this way. I am simply saying it feels violently out of character, and is not helpful in the situation at all.

These two are currently being the least helpful in this situation. They do not care, and do not feel the need to soften their apathy and help the others. Lunar is actually the most unsympathetic out of the group, which is actually a stark contrast to how he usually is portrayed.

#🌟 Ten Talks #tsams #sams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #tsams moon #tsams sun #tsams solar #tsams earth #tsams lunar #tsams monty

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luvzshy · 3 days ago

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Taste of Obsession

Summary: After moving to the quiet town of Madre Linda for a fresh start, you didn’t expect to find yourself so captivated by Love Quinn, the enigmatic baker with an intensity that’s both thrilling and terrifying. As your connection deepens, Love’s charm gives way to possessiveness and jealousy, showing glimpses of a darkness that she keeps just beneath the surface. Her affection turns all-consuming, pulling you in even as every instinct screams at you to run. Will her love prove too dangerous to handle, or are you already in too deep to escape?

Word Count: ~2,500

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, possessiveness, psychological tension, implied stalking, and mild violence.

Madre Linda was the last place you thought you’d end up. After a few too many setbacks in the city, you craved a slower pace. The small California suburb, with its sprawling greenery and polished exteriors, seemed like the kind of place where things might finally settle down. That is, until you walked into A Fresh Tart on your first day, in desperate need of caffeine, and saw her.

Love Quinn had a presence that filled the room. She was beautiful, but not in a way that felt distant—she seemed both warm and untouchable, like she was part of the town’s fabric but had secrets she’d never tell. She moved behind the counter with an ease and elegance that made you feel like you’d stumbled onto something rare.

“New in town?” Her voice was smooth, light, with a smile that made your cheeks heat.

“Yeah, just got in yesterday,” you replied, a little nervous under her gaze.

“Well, welcome to Madre Linda,” she said, handing over a perfectly crafted latte with a little heart in the foam. “I think you’ll like it here.” Her eyes lingered, a moment too long, before she turned back to her work.

As the days turned into weeks, Love became a staple in your life. You’d find any excuse to visit A Fresh Tart, often spending your breaks there and savoring every minute of conversation. And the way she looked at you? It was like you were the only person in the room. You’d laugh at her jokes, share stories of your past, and, occasionally, she’d give you that look—that deep, knowing look that left a shiver down your spine.

But Love wasn’t just attentive; she was intense. Her gaze often flickered toward anyone who tried to catch your attention, and a low, simmering anger would cloud her otherwise gentle eyes if someone flirted with you. You told yourself you were overthinking things. But then came the night that changed everything.

You’d been invited to a small dinner party at Love’s home. Her brother, Forty, was out of town, so it was just the two of you. Her place was elegant, full of character—baked goods on the kitchen counter, plants thriving in every corner, and dim, warm lighting that made you feel like you’d stepped into a different world.

“So,” Love asked, her tone soft, as she poured you a glass of wine. “Have you met anyone…interesting around here?”

You chuckled, leaning back. “Not really. Just the people at work, and you, of course.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she seemed pleased, almost too pleased, with your answer. “Good,” she said, taking a sip of her wine and gazing at you over the rim of the glass. “I wouldn’t want you getting distracted by the wrong crowd.”

There was something dangerous about the way she said it—like it was both a promise and a warning. You brushed it off, telling yourself you were just misinterpreting her protective nature. But the next day, you found yourself second-guessing.

A friend from work, Mark, had invited you out for coffee, and you’d accepted, eager to make connections in the area. But when you arrived, Love was there, sitting in the corner, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. She didn’t say a word, but Mark seemed uncomfortable under her gaze, and after a few awkward minutes, he excused himself, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere else.

Once he was gone, Love approached, her smile tight. “I thought you’d be at A Fresh Tart today. I missed seeing you.”

You swallowed, your heartbeat quickening. “I—uh, just wanted to check out the area a bit. Didn’t mean to ditch you.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was intimate, bordering on possessive. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice low. “I just…care about you, that’s all. People here…they’re not always what they seem.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with an implication you didn’t dare address.

As the weeks passed, Love’s intensity only grew. She’d show up at your place unannounced with baked goods, her face lighting up when she saw you, as if she’d been counting down the minutes to be near you. She’d linger close, finding excuses to touch your arm, your shoulder, her fingers brushing yours whenever she handed you something. And you found yourself drawn to her too, in ways you hadn’t anticipated. She was magnetic, her touch lingering long after she’d gone, her laugh ringing in your ears even when you were alone.

But that night, everything changed.

It was late, and you were at your apartment, scrolling through your phone when a message came in. Love. You unlocked your screen and read her text: I can’t sleep. Mind if I come by?

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door, and when you opened it, she was there, her eyes bright with an energy that felt almost…dangerous.

You barely had time to greet her before she crossed the threshold, her arms winding around your neck as she pulled you into a deep, fervent kiss. It was overwhelming, the kind of kiss that stole your breath and left you dizzy, her hands tangled in your hair, her body pressing against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected.

When she pulled back, her eyes were wild, her lips swollen. “I’ve wanted this,” she whispered, her voice rough with emotion. “For so long.”

Her confession hung in the air, a declaration that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You wanted to say something, to slow things down, but before you could, she was kissing you again, her hands roaming your body as if she couldn’t get enough.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a warning bell rang, reminding you of the intensity that had drawn you to her and, perhaps, should have kept you away. But right now, under her touch, all you could feel was her—and the fact that, despite everything, you didn’t want her to stop.

In the days that followed, her possessiveness became all-consuming. She didn’t want you speaking to anyone else, and if someone showed even a hint of interest in you, Love’s eyes would darken, a shadow passing over her face that left you uneasy. She’d show up at your work, texting you constantly, even hinting at moving in together after only a few weeks.

And despite every alarm going off in your head, you found yourself sinking deeper into her world, unable to escape the pull she had over you. You were addicted to her intensity, her love, even if it came with darkness lurking in the edges of her affection.

One night, after an intense argument about your friend Mark—who you hadn’t even seen since Love had scared him off—she looked at you with a dangerous glint in her eye.

“You don’t understand how much I love you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I would do anything for you. Anything. And I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

There was something final in her words, a promise that chilled you to your core. She wasn’t just saying she loved you. She was saying that you were hers, bound to her in ways you might never escape.

And as she leaned in to kiss you, her touch gentle yet possessive, you realized that, somehow, you’d always known—she would do anything to keep you. Even if it meant destroying anyone who got in her way.

#love quinn wlw #love quinn angs #love quinn blurb #love quinn x fem!reader #love quinn x you #love quinn fic #love quinn fluff #love quinn x reader #wlw love #love quinn #wlw post #wlw blog #sapphic #lesbian #you

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howlsofbloodhounds · 3 days ago

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I was thinking about the possibility of Killer finding a young Papyrus in a destroyed AU and taking him under his wing and I was thinking of possible reasons why he would do this, you know?

While he's with Color, I feel like, in his mind, it would feel as almost the only option. Well, rescuing him that is, not taking care of him after. But, anyway, that's what Color would do and what Color would want him to do, and, while Killer is the type to test limits, he's also desperate for the approval of those he feels are in charge (which isn't exactly the case with Color, but their whole thing is rather complicated).

That said, I think while with Color the rescue is where their interactions would stop. Color would probably help him find someone more suited to take care of young Papyrus in the Omega Timeline, and Killer isn't the type to get attached so easily so he'd be happy to let go.

Now, while he's living under Nightmare is a different story.

Mostly because, under Nightmare, his directive is not to kill anyone. Dead people don't suffer after all. But also, a universe that is almost entirely empty is pointless for the God, so he may want to get rid of that one to free up some space.

So, imagine Killer sneaks this Papyrus into the castle behind Nightmare's back and, at first, it is entirely because my guy is following the Nightmare directive: no killing unless Nightmare specifically approves of it. Going behind Nightmare's back was less intentional and more of a result of Nightmare not caring/paying very little attention to someone as hopeful as Papyrus.

Once at the castle, keeping Papy hidden and protected feels like the only way to keep respecting the no killing directive, whether it's an extended Bad Sanses situation or not. 'Cause Nightmare would lose his mind if he found out that Killer is smuggling people behind his back and he has fits of violent rage when that happens. And he doesn't think when he's angry (and, of course, Killer's the one paying the consequences for whatever he ends up doing, so no thanks). And if Dust is there, having a Papyrus anywhere near him is just a bad idea.

It would also be interesting to see how exactly Killer goes about taking care of Papy. Because, to me, in his mind he would soon start to see Papy as just either one of his cats or one of his weapons who need routine maintenance and little else. Which would be a terrible existence for the poor guy, because I don't think that Killer would be the type to talk with those much...

That does feel like Stage 2’s mindset, yes. Especially when serving Nightmare. I feel like Killer be widely torn in all directions on what to do with Papyrus under Nightmare—his instincts, feelings, and orders all sending him mixed signals.

Feelings from Stage 1–the internal horror and impeding dread, the horrific guilt and shame, yet still the selfish desire for something familiar, to try and wash away some of his sins.

His orders from Nightmare not to kill, and yet his training from Chara dictating that he kill Papyrus. He training to be attuned to Chara’s needs and wants paired with the same lingering attachment he had with Chara making him feel compelled to care for the child and basically become a doormat—instinct to bend and mold himself to Papyrus’ will the exact same way he did with Chara.

The underlying fear and resentment of yet again finding himself at the whims of a damn child that fuels Stage 3. The constant reminders that isn’t just any child, or a Chara, but a Papyrus—his biggest enemy. The one he has to kill. Impending dread of what’ll happen if he keeps trying to resist, what’ll happen if he does give in.

I’d imagine taking care of a Papyrus under Nightmare will send his Stages into a whirlwind of conflicting desires—and he’d be torn between wanting to escape and hide away from it all, but knowing he has to be present, because who knows what’ll happen if he switches into another Stage.

He wouldn’t be able to attach himself to the kid in this environment, he’d actively keep himself distant and detached, would probably avoid trying to be in higher Stages around him—and as a result, the kiddo would likely feel like Killer isn’t really..all there? Aware? He may even feel dehumanized on some level, as if a robot is taking care of him than anything real—even if this robot is being very meticulous and isn’t hurting him. Yet.

Perhaps Papyrus would feel the need to tread carefully, but may also feel a sense of safety and being seen while with Killer—he always seems to know what he wants and what he needs before Papyrus himself does. But I’d imagine he’d very confused between the “good, sad” brother (Stage 1) and the “cold, robot” brother (Stage 2.)

He has all sorts of ideas of what could happen if the kid is caught—he knows because he’s often the one doing it all, with eyes watching his every move, body acting on autopilot. He won’t sugar coat it either—he’d make it very clear to Papyrus what is likely to happen to him if he is ever seen, caught, heard. If he doesn’t listen to and follow Killer’s orders.

But ultimately I don’t think Stage 1 would want Papyrus there. With Nightmare. Even if a part of him selfishly doesn’t want to part with him either.

He can’t afford attachments, he can’t afford having more responsibilities, more burdens and drains on resources—and he will also feel guilty for thinking of his little brother like that, but he doesn’t feel he can control those thoughts. To him, the second he brought this kid within reach of himself, he’s already sealed his fate.

Nightmare wouldn’t hurt or kill this child. He’d have Killer do it. And Killer could never think to say no when he’s “like that”—even when he hesitates, and something seems..off.

Papyrus will die, he thinks. Every other Papyrus has—usually by his own hands, as he watches from behind his eyes (st1) or from a 3rd person view (st2). But maybe some small part of him, a flickering light, would want to try. Keep the kid alive until a better option is available out of the castle—even if it means dumping the kid in some neutral AU with some clothes and weapons and coin. Becoming a little faint memory in the kid’s mind, or better yet, forgotten entirely. Finding him a better brother.

(Imagine Stage 1 giving little Papyrus tips on how to handle and behave around him when he’s “like that.” Something about how he won’t hurt Papyrus, not unless “the bad man tells him to,” and to stay safe he must hide away from the bad man.)

Things will likely be different in his Good Ending though, where he’s away from Nightmare and has Color’s support and help. I think it’s in this ending where Killer would have a harder time letting go. In all this new, Stage 1 wants to cling to something familiar. Something grounding. Even if it’s painful.

If Killer is ultimately able to maintain the care for the child, would probably differ based on interpretation, adequate care and support, and how far along he is in recovery.

But also..would he even be allowed to have a child? Given his history, if the Omega Timeline has something equivalent to the CPS or a foster system, would they have to evaluate him if he ever attempted to legally adopt the Papyrus? If he has to give the kid up anyway, would any adopted or fostering family even allow a known mass murdering terrorist visitation—supervised or not, rehabilitating or not?

Even if Killer ever wanted to become a parent or caretaker, he’d likely face heavy scrutiny and judgment during and after the whole thing. Maybe some brave souls would even try to step in and remove the kid themselves.

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digital-nova · 8 hours ago

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Manipulative whumpees

hear me out. whumpees who know that acting vulnerable and weak can earn them things. whumpees who exaggerate their injuries/illness in order to be taken care of.

maybe it starts when they escaped/were rescued from whumper. they haven’t been treated kindly in so long, and caretaker is just so gentle. they’re exactly what whumpee needs - kind, attentive, and would do anything for them. anything, whumpee realises, so long as they’re helpless and weak.

“i-i’m sorry, i’m just not up for it today. could you do it for me, please?”

“i don’t mean to be a burden, but…”

“are you sure? well, if you would rather do it for me…”

it started off with small things; asking for favours, being lazier than usual, just generally just being more demanding. until whumpee realises that they can’t stop.

maybe they’re desperate to keep the affection, refusing to let themselves recover to make sure caretaker is always worried about them. whumpee needs someone constantly reassuring and taking care of them - they can’t go back to how it was with whumper…

maybe whumpee wants to take advantage of caretaker. if they’re around to all the work, why bother getting better? they can just keep faking and let caretaker do everything. (queue carertaker-turned-whumpee and whumpee-turned-whumper)

would caretaker snap back? force whumpee to take ownership for their deliberate self sabotage and start using ‘tough love’ on them?

and how would whumpee react to this? would they just have to be more manipulative?

“i thought you cared about me?”

“i’m sorry, just don’t send me back there!”

“you’re no different to whumper.”

or would caretaker feel too guilty to say anything? after all, whumpee has been through so much. it wouldn’t be right for caretaker to deny them recovery, right?

does anyone else notice how whumpee is behaving? other members of the team, friends, etc? does somebody else have to call out their behaviour to caretaker? if so, how does caretaker react?

just

manipulative whumpees. there’s so many possibilities

#whump #writeblr #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #whump community #whump scenario

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tinytinyblogs · 16 hours ago

Text

It’s not how I think it is, right?

Yandere Skz paranoia drives them to ensure, in their own way, that you’ll never leave them.

Hyung line, Maknae line

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

It all happened so quickly for you, a sudden shift that felt both surprising and confusing. But for Han, it was different; for him, it stemmed from a deep-seated paranoia. It was as if an irrational thought crept up on him, one he couldn't shake. In an instant, he made a decision—he wouldn’t let you leave the bedroom, holding you close as if he needed to keep you within his sight at all times, watching over you as though his entire world depended on it. At first, you didn’t understand what was driving him. He didn’t explain why he was behaving this way, keeping you so close, clinging as if you’d slip away if he let go even a little. But slowly, his intentions became clearer as he whispered the same words over and over: “Don’t leave me for anyone else. You’re mine, forever.” As you began to piece things together, you tried to reassure him, to find the right words to break through his fears. It wasn’t easy; telling him that you would never do such a thing, that his nightmare would never come true, seemed almost impossible in the face of his unrelenting anxiety. He clung to you tightly, his arms wrapped around you as though he feared even a sliver of distance could make you disappear.

Every time you tried to convince him, to calm him, he only seemed to hold you tighter, his gaze filled with worry, his grip trembling with fear of the imagined loss. He would listen to your words and, for a moment, a tiny sliver of calm would wash over him. But it wouldn’t last long—soon, his worry would resurface, and he’d draw you even closer, needing that constant reassurance. Each time he found a moment of peace, it was fleeting. You could feel him wrestling with his own thoughts, battling the terror of losing you. The cycle would repeat: he’d hold you close, anxiety pulling him back under, but with every gentle reassurance, he’d find a small piece of comfort, inch by inch. He suddenly enveloped you in a tight hug, nearly squeezing the breath out of you as he held you close. “I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice muffled against your shoulder, his face buried as he took in your scent, as if grounding himself in your presence. “I’m sorry for those terrible thoughts,” he whispered, his voice tinged with both regret and vulnerability. “Just… promise me,” he pleaded.

Holding on a little tighter, as though that promise could finally quiet his fears. He paused, his embrace tightening around you, as though he could somehow fuse his very being with yours, make you inseparable. You could feel the intensity of his heartbeat against you, each beat mirroring his quiet desperation. His fingers gently trailed down your back, pulling you even closer as he leaned in, his face nestled by your ear. His voice dropped to a low, almost hypnotic whisper, every word slow and deliberate, each one heavy with meaning, creating a tension that filled the space between you. “That you never…” he began, pausing as if he were gathering the strength to say what he truly felt, his tone both soft and unyielding, carrying a depth of longing that sent a shiver down your spine. “… ever leave me.” The words hung in the air, laced with an intensity that was both tender and possessive. It was as though he was baring his soul in that single request, seeking a promise that could quiet the storm of fear within him, a vow that would anchor him to the certainty of your presence forever.

Felix

That day, Felix seemed different—distracted, almost lost in his thoughts as he wandered around. Every task he normally stayed on top of had been pushed aside, his usual focus replaced by something deeper and more intense. Finally, he found his way to you, his gaze unusually sharp and serious. Before you even had a chance to greet him or ask what was wrong, he reached out, grabbing your phone from your hand with a swift, almost desperate motion. Without a second glance, he tossed it somewhere across the room, not seeming to care about where it landed or if it might break. All he wanted, it seemed, was for the phone to be out of reach—out of sight—so that nothing could pull your attention away from him. Without giving you a moment to process, he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close and holding you so tightly you could hardly move. His weight pressed down, caging you beneath him as he looked down, his brows furrowed with frustration and something almost like hurt. “Why are you always on your phone?” he asked, his tone a blend of annoyance and vulnerability. “Am I invisible to you now?” The firmness of his hold surprised you, his grip so unyielding that you found yourself wincing.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling his hands on your arms, and a quiet whimper escaped your lips. “Lixie, it hurts,” you whispered, hoping he’d ease up, but he didn’t seem to notice or maybe just didn’t want to. His hands stayed right where they were, holding you as if he was afraid you might slip away at any second. He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes dark and searching, as if they could read every thought running through your mind. “Are you texting someone?” he murmured finally, the question sounding almost like an accusation. His voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge to it, something he was struggling to keep hidden. The rawness in his expression, the tightness in his jaw, made it clear that there was more behind his question than simple curiosity. “No… I’m just scrolling,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady under the weight of his gaze. “I’m not texting anyone.” You repeated the words softly, patiently, even as you felt the tension in the air. For a few moments, he stayed quiet, his eyes searching your face like he was trying to read something hidden in your expression.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed, a hint of relief breaking through the intensity in his gaze. “Alright…” he murmured, the frustration in his voice softening just a little. “Sorry for doubting you.” He pulled you a bit closer, and his grip loosened, though he didn’t let you go. Slowly, he buried his face back into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled closer, as if seeking comfort and reassurance in your presence. A quiet pause settled over you, his arms still wrapped firmly around you, his hold just a bit gentler now. But then he spoke again, his voice lower, with a rough edge that made you shiver. “Just… if I ever find out you’re texting anyone else…” he trailed off, his tone carrying a warning that felt both protective and possessive, a reminder of the intensity behind his actions. He didn’t finish the sentence, but his words hung heavily in the air, leaving you with no doubt about the depth of his feelings and the lengths he’d go to keep you close. The silence that followed felt thick and loaded with everything unspoken between you.

Seungmin

Seungmin was known for his cool-headedness, the way he analyzed every situation with a level-headed logic that kept him grounded. But today, there was an unusual intensity in his eyes, a quiet storm lurking beneath the calm surface. He moved closer to you, his presence steady yet unmistakably firm, as if making his way into your personal space was the only way to calm his own thoughts. After a moment, he spoke, his voice soft but edged with a hint of something deeper. “You’re still talking to that guy, right? The one who’s always acting a bit too friendly with you?” His words were measured, careful, but his eyes gave him away, dark and assessing as he watched you closely, waiting for the smallest flicker of reaction. He wasn’t just asking; he was searching, dissecting every inch of your body language, every twitch, every glance. You shook your head calmly, answering his question with simple honesty, and for a moment, he looked visibly relieved. His shoulders loosened, his jaw unclenched, and he let out a quiet breath. But then he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a subtle possessiveness, as if needing that reassurance to truly settle his mind.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, almost like he was speaking only to himself. “I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.” His eyes met yours, more intense than you’d ever seen them, and there was a hint of vulnerability mixed in with his seriousness. “It’s just… I don’t like the way he looks at you, or how he smiles. It bothers me,” he admitted, his gaze unwavering as if daring you to challenge him. “Stay away from him, alright? I don’t want to be the one who has to remind you who you belong to.” There was a warmth in his expression, a softness even, but beneath it lay something stronger—a quiet yet undeniable warning. His fingers tightened around yours slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know he was serious. And despite the gentleness of his words, there was a finality in them, a reminder that while he trusted you, he wouldn’t hesitate to remind anyone, including you, just how deep his feelings ran. After all, he’d put so much effort into building trust between you two, nurturing it carefully so that you felt secure with him.

He didn’t want to shatter that bond over something as fleeting as jealousy. Ending things over his insecurities was the last thing he wanted. Sure, he could’ve easily put that guy in his place, maybe with a well-placed jab to the nose, but he knew there were better ways to handle it. “Just… let me know when you need to go somewhere,” he said, his expression softening into a smile that was both adorable and a little mischievous. “Then we can go together—I want to spend more time with you.” His tone was casual, but there was an underlying warmth, as though he was trying to make it sound as normal as possible. But maybe it wasn’t just about spending more time together. Maybe he liked the idea of having you close, of keeping you within sight so he could observe everything and keep his mind at ease. Still, his smile, so genuine and bright, made it easy to agree without a second thought, as if his only real desire was to simply be near you.

Jeongin

Jeongin had been acting differently, a little withdrawn and unusually quiet. He kept his distance, his gaze a bit sharper than usual, as if caught in his own thoughts. Days went by, and he hadn’t been his usual bright self—no playful teasing, no warm touches or quick, mischievous glances. Instead, he seemed to be calculating something, perhaps needing time to calm himself down or to plan his next move. It was like he was working hard to find a way to make sure no one else would even think about getting close to you. When you finally asked him what was wrong, he looked up, as if your question had given him permission to speak his mind. His face softened, but a touch of vulnerability lingered in his gaze, his usual confidence tempered by something deeper. “You know,” he began slowly, his tone shy, almost hesitant, “I’ve had something weighing on me lately. It’s silly… but I can’t shake the feeling.” He paused, the faintest blush creeping into his cheeks as he tried to gather his words. “I keep wondering if… maybe someone’s getting close to you, if you’re giving them more of your attention than you give me.” He glanced at you,

his eyes never leaving your face, as though studying every little reaction. “And I keep thinking… maybe you care about them more.” His words hung in the air, and his shyness melted away slowly, shifting into something more resolute, his gaze sharpening as his fingers brushed your hand, grounding himself in that small connection. “But it’s not true, right?” he asked, his voice gaining confidence. “You love me,” he murmured, his tone soft yet insistent, his eyes now intent on yours. “You don’t have a choice either,” he added with a small smile, almost like he was reminding you of a fact he believed was written in stone. “We’re together forever, remember?” That smile widened, creeping across his face, but it wasn’t the innocent, playful one you knew so well. There was a hint of something deeper, a fierceness in it, as though he were stating a claim he would never let go of. “I just need you to stay close to me,” he said, his fingers tracing over yours. “I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they could be important to you.”

There was an intensity in his gaze now, a silent promise, as if he’d already decided he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. His voice softened, almost a whisper. “You’ll always stay with me, won’t you?” His question lingered, more of a quiet declaration than a request, a gentle yet firm reminder of the bond he’d carefully built with you and intended to protect, no matter what. "Why so quiet, hm?" he murmured, a teasing edge in his voice as he slowly inched closer to you. His gaze was locked onto yours, and you could feel a flutter of fear rise within you as your eyes widened under the intensity of his stare. You felt your breath hitch, eyes widening with a flicker of fear under his unbreaking stare. His voice dropped to a soft whisper as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing your ear. The way he spoke made your heart race, and you instinctively leaned back slightly, trying to process the moment. "Come on," he coaxed gently, his words carrying a weight that sent a shiver down your spine. "Say it. Tell me you’ll always be by my side." His eyes searched yours, filled with an intensity that made it difficult to look away.

🩷 @chaoticfaelle

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