#the only hard part is it's not so obvious if you've made a mistake

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i just started a new puzzle magazine this afternoon of 'suguru' something i hadn't tried before

i'm 25% of the way done with this

i've done almost 40 puzzles this afternoon/evening

would recommend suguru

[deathbxnny]

Arcane ladies with a apathetic(?) fem s/o

Not really apathetic but you'll get it

Reader is willing to do some really fucked up shit for them

Manipulation, genocide, torture and other extreme things (she would never do that on them)

And she doesn't even try to hide that she's capable to do it for them

It doesn't help that reader is pretty strong mentally and physically (physically strong enough to break bones like it's nothing)

Strange request? Maybe, but thank you for reading it even if you don't do it :) (sorry for the bad english)

Arcane women with a Fem!s/o that would do anything and everything for them. | Mel, Jinx, Caitlyn x Gn!Reader

I actually had a lot of fun writing this, so thank you for your request! And don't worry, I understood what you meant so your English is just fine!!<33

Content: Reader is unhinged and morally dark grey, established romantic relationships, murder, death, manipulation, wlw, sfw

Reader is asked to be afab with she/her pronouns.

((Not proofread))

The limit is the sky, as they say. And yours goes beyond any measurement possible.

Morals are a suggestion, a human philosophy you didn't bother to abide by, especially when it came to the safety of your partner. Death, lies, and deceit were your strong suit, the only thing you knew to be excellent in the wake of total emotionlessness.

The only thing you cared about was your girlfriend's well-being, and that was it.

You were more than content with this arrangement and didn't try hiding your devotion to her either. She should be proud to have a lover like you after all. No one else would put this much effort into her... and she knows that, right?

》MEL

Mel is torn between her position as a councilor and being your lover. On one hand, she knows that she shouldn't be condoning or pardoning your crimes, no matter how much she feels for you... but on the other hand, the touch and love starved part of her practically beams with excitement at the blood that drips from your hands in her name. To have someone care for her so deeply was certainly not the norm, and so, she often chooses to just loom away.

She'll let you do your thing as long as you try your best and keep it under wraps, since she still had a reputation to uphold and couldn't justify your actions in public for obvious reasons. You two never talk about what you've done otherwise, though, making it an "out of mind, out of sight" situation. This doesn't mean that she won't sometimes watch you go through your extreme training just to see your impressive strength in action.

The moral dilemma of loving you will most likely haunt her forever, but that doesn't mean much to her in the long run. Your love is irreplaceable.

》JINX

You two are the absolute dream team couple, to say the least. The desire and devotion you share for each other is naturally overridden by any morals. Not that either of you ever cared about them to begin with. You fill the streets with terror and chaos, determined to make everyone see the strength of your love... even when you always took it way farther than she did.

Jinx battled with her mental health all the time, the scratchy hallucinations screaming and yelling at her at every mistake. That's what made her appreciate you so much more than others, her heart pounding against her chest whenever you return with bloody hands and tell her the atrocities you've committed in her name. It made her happy to know that someone could be as equally as obsessed with her than she was with them.

She will never let you go for as long as she lives, always the one to tell you how grateful she was for everything and anything you did for her. She knows that no one will ever love her so much ever again if it isn't you doing it.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was very much horrified when she found out about everything you've done. You'd argue that this is simply your way of showing love to her, but she had a hard time accepting it. She didn't want you to torture and kill others for her. It wasn't the right thing to do, and nothing she said could make you see that, too. Death and carnage was all the same, if it was in the name of love after all.

Alas, Caitlyn, for some reason, still never turns you in for your crimes, despite her position as an Enforcer. In a way, she's kind of in denial over the whole thing, going as far as to excuse the bloody stains on your clothes or your late night outs that would result in many dead. It wasn't you, surely. Hell, even you outright telling her that it indeed was you wouldn't be enough for her. Ignoring the problem is a much easier strategy than trying to admit that your girlfriend is a terrible person.

And so, you two never speak of it outloud. Deep down, she knows that one day people will catch onto what you're doing and perhaps prosecute you at last... but with how powerful and strong you are, she doubted that that would happen any time soon.

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅰ (Regina George x Reader)

Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right?

✮✮✮

Light seeps through the blinds and birds start to make themselves known with their melodic chirps. Aggressive rustling can be heard from outside your door as you throw a mini tantrum on your, now ruffled up, sheets. Sleepless nights weren't new to you, but they don't get any less frustrating. You stare at the ceiling for a good 30 seconds before finally pushing yourself off your bed. Walking to turn off the air conditioning, you trip over god-knows what and fall flat on your face. The first day of junior year and you're already contemplating ending it all, on the floor of your dump of a bedroom, laying next to a-

"My mascara!", you exclaimed as you sat up. You lost that thing ages ago. You get up, taking the mascara with you and make your way into the bathroom. Becoming a junior wasn't anything you cared for. After sophomore year, the illusion of high school you created in your head had melted away, leaving behind a hollow teenage girl that just wanted to get it over and done with.

Putting away your mascara, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror. A bed-head ridden girl with deep eye bags, which only seem to become more obvious with each passing day, stares back at you. "God, I look horrific," you thought out loud. A habit, in hindsight, you needed to rid yourself of. Going through your morning routine, you think about the coming school year. 11th grade! Will this be the year you reinvent yourself? You could completely change yourself; The way you walk, talk, act, and dress!

...

Who are you kidding.

After successfully poking your eye with your eyeliner three times, you're done. You peak your head out your bathroom door, glancing at the cat-themed clock you've had since you were a baby. It's 8 am. Classes start at 8:15. Curses fall out of your mouth. Did time warp halfway through your routine or something? Running out of the bathroom you quickly change into your clothes, a worn out band T-shirt and black cargos. You can hear your mother cursing at you from downstairs as you make your way out your room. "You're going to be late on your first day, seriously?" Your mom deadpans as you reach the bottom of the stairs. "Whatever, mom, they don't even care."

Walking to school instead of letting your mother drive you was probably not the best idea, but you're too far from the house to care right now. You turn the final corner and arrive at your final location, North Shore High School. Approaching the doors, you can already make out two students face-mashing each other through the window.

✮✮✮

You've been a student at North Shore since freshman year, but anyone could mistake you for a new student, if they even noticed you that is. You pride yourself in being able to blend in with the crowd. This school was filled with losers, so you fit right in. They had already been assigned, so you made your way through the various cliques grouped up in the hallways and to your locker. As much as you hated this place, it's what you're used to. You'd have a hard time adjusting to a new high school, at least at this one you knew who to avoid. You don't even think about it anymore since you don't run into them much- nevermind. "Watch it, freak!"

Great, of anyone you could've bumped into, it's the queen bitch, Regina George. "Whatever." you mumbled and began to walk away when you were pulled back by your bag and shoved back into the lockers...hard. "This is the part where you apologize, Gerard Way." she spits at you while holding the straps of your backpack. A bit of black eyeliner and suddenly you're emo at this school. She was a couple inches taller than you, making it all the more embarrassing, looking up at her. Wriggling around proves unsuccessful. Is there a gym-bro buried beneath her layers of pink and pretty or something? Getting out of her grip doesn't seem like a possibility, so you begrudgingly mumble out a "Sorry..."

She stares at you for a few seconds too long.

"Uhm...can I go now?" You ask. "Yeah uh, sure, whatever." She finally lets you go and storms away towards her group of all-mighty "biatches", or "Plastics" as some (mainly Damien and Janis) call them.

So much for not being noticed.

✮✮✮

A/N: this is my first time writing, so any constructive criticism would be great! forgive any awkward wording or corny-ness. There are more chapters up on my wattpad and ao3, same username for both. @ziggyzolch

[moonsaver]

You're certain your professor hates you.

Dr. Ratio was by no means someone who would go easy on you. His unmatchable merit meant almost unreachable standards of discipline and wit, and that extended a rigorous course with a passing percentage of 3%

You and the very few classmates you've had all were aware about what was to come once you signed up for his classes. Continuous, strict teaching, constant supervision, problems so hard it took days to solve. The worst exams were the open book ones – they lasted days.

At some point, your classmates decided to study together as a strategy. All of you would collectively study like maniacs and it did end up with gratifying results.

At least, for everyone else. Except you.

No matter what you did, your grades plummeted more and more from the previous exams. And Dr. Ratio was no shy of calling you out on it, telling you with a looming stature to meet him after class, the strain in his voice already enough for your blood to run cold.

Somehow, however, everytime after class when you sat down with Dr. Ratio, he seemed agitated, but nothing more. Of course, he didn't go easy on you when it came to pointing out every detail of a mistake on your paper, and that was the worst part you had to tolerate. Afterwards.. he was alright. The condescending tone in his voice as he instructed you to read the reference materials wasn't exactly tolerable, but it was better than being called an idiot, a buffoon, a failure in every language he possibly knew.

Although, what would annoy you even more was your study sessions were confined more and more to his office hours. After a few more failing grades, he would extend the amount of time you'd have to sit across him in the suffocatingly silent, sterile room with only an expanse of books that you occasionally interacted with, and a few necessities.

Every time your hand stopped scribbling, or your eyes stopped scanning the text, he would tap the table with a finger, and ask, "done already?" And you'd immediately continue, replying with a meek, "no". Sometimes if you took a while longer to answer out of hesitance, his sharp gaze would snap to you, looking up from one of his thick books, his reading glasses perched lower so that his eyes peeked out from above the lens. That would be enough to snap you from your trance, and get back to writing frantically.

But the arrangement was fine. Until he started getting uncomfortably closer.

Sometimes, he decides watching your eyebrows furrow in frustration is much more entertaining of a pastime during his break to rest his eyes. His office chair creaks a bit as he leans forward, his elbows perched on the desk, resting his chin on intertwined fingers. This was arguably more intimidating to you – his gaze was unimaginably heavy. And you're sure he's aware of it too – his eyes watch the obvious trembling of the pen in your hands, and the tensing of your jaw, as the realisation he's observing you thoroughly flashes in your eyes.

If you weren't so exhausted after taking your leave,you would have at least had the energy to think he was.. enjoying your discomfort.

And things only got worse from there. Sometimes he decides getting up from his chair and looming intimidatingly from behind you is better. At times, he leans down, too close for comfort, his breathing hitting the shell of your ears as you feel his eyes scan your work, and you. Sometimes, a waft of his scent hits your nose. You're sure he can smell yours, too.

In this position, it only gets worse. His arm sometimes rests across your back and his hand hangs firmly on your shoulder, his other hand pointing out a mistake you've made, and moves your writing hand to the exact spot. His condescending voice practically reverberates through you, his warm breath mixing with the cool air around your ear, making you flinch if you're caught off guard. You can only hope his observant gaze didn't see it.

Unfortunately, as helpful as the after-class lessons are, it seems it's not successful enough to get you to pass his course.

At some point, you're in his office almost late in the evening, the entire vicinity is devoid of people, echoes of usually quiet machinery are heard in the hallway. You sit across from him, head hanging from shame, and dread. He sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, folding his legs.

He'll have to try.. other methods.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they see you're with someone new. 

AN: college! au and ex!dreamies by the way.

Mark Lee

It was a coincidence, Mark excuses. But he knows that fate was playing with him when he saw you enter the bar, holding hands with some guy. He couldn't help but to take another shot, eyes never leaving you until slowly, you turned around. Both were surprised when you two made eye contact, but it was you who avoided first when your boyfriend whispered something to you. You only gave him a smile, trying to ignore the piercing gaze from your ex. Mark watches as you laugh with someone new. Devastated, he could only take more shots than he could that night. 

Huang Renjun

The university was huge, and yet, you managed to cross paths with your ex-boyfriend. Renjun was surprised to see you walking along the hallway with someone's arms wrapped around your shoulders. He stopped, and so did you. You know that both of you ended the relationship with no bad feelings but Renjun still can't help but be hurt by the fact that you already have someone new. He could only give his congratulations to you and before you could say a word, he left hurriedly. 

Lee Jeno

The moment you walked to the bar with someone's arms wrapped around your waist, Jeno could only curse. It made the table tense. Everyone knows how hard it was for Jeno when you broke up with him, and although part of it was his mistake, he had a hard time moving on from you. So it was bad news that you're here. Jeno could only stare, taking shot after shot that he almost finished a bottle. And there's the part where the alcohol's controlling him. Even trying to approach you if it wasn't for his friends who stopped him, a scene would've happened that night. 

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan couldn't help but to stalk the guy's instagram profile when he saw you in the coffee shop with him. It was easy to find the guy since you two are still mutuals and right there, Haechan started mocking the guy. He couldn't believe that your standards went from him to this piece of trash. He was making comments out loud while he scrolls through the guy's instagram, convincing himself that he's way good-looking than the guy. 

Na Jaemin

Oh Jaemin would definitely cause a small scene when he sees you with someone new. It's going to be something like he'll corner you when you're not with your new boyfriend. Asking you how you've been and you were weirded tf out because isn't Jaemin the one who broke up with you? So the confrontation was a bit weird and yet you only told Jaemin what you feel and it's obvious that he's bitter that you have someone new. In the end, you told Jaemin to fuck off, leaving him there stunned. 

Zhong Chenle

It was a lovely scene. You were in the gazebo with your new boyfriend. He was tutoring you for an elective class that you both are taking. You were quick to understand the lecture and while tutoring you, you couldn't help but laugh because of his comments. What you didn't know was that Chenle was watching you. It's not like he want to, it was just a coincidence that he passed by that route. He couldn't help but feel bitter, he used to tutor you too. But it seems like you have someone new, so he evidently lets you be, walking away from the scene. 

Park Jisung

Jisung thought that he was okay. That he's already healed from his relationship with you. But his friends being jerks, shows him a post from you with someone new. You look happy and glowing, as if you're finally with the right person. All of his friends are teasing him, trying to convince him that they should fight the guy, and every typical thing a guy would say. Jisung brushes it off, trying to laugh it off, even though deep inside it hurts him so much. 

[hyun-xxe]

You're Mine, Silly! (Yandere!Jungkook x F!Reader) PART 1

Summary: You've only met him once at a fan meet. You were excited and happy since he was your bias. Thats how you saw him. However, Jungkook saw things differently.

warnings: none

PART 1

There he was, sitting down right in front of you. A part of you still couldn't believe that he was literally a foot away, smiling at you. The sparkle in his eyes bright and shiny, just like his smile.

You swore everything inside you melted away and no thought was left except for Jungkook.

"Hey there!" he waves, grabbing your hand in his, "What's your name beautiful?" he asks, rubbing your palm with his thumb.

It took everything in you not to pass out right in front of you so you mustered up the courage to speak. "Hi!! My name is Y/N! I'm so excited to finally meet you!" you smile brightly, jumping up and down.

"Excited you say?" he smirks, leaning closer, his cologne spreading up toward you, giving you a whiff of his scent. "What makes me so exciting to you?" he questions.

You pretend to think on it real hard when in reality it was so fucking obvious why. "Hmmmm well, I can't deny that you are my bias. You're such a talented singer, song writer, are funny, and so adorable."

His eyes softened as you rambled about things you like about him. With every word you said and the way you seemed so passionate about how you feel made him feel a certain way.

When you realized you were rambling, you felt your face become hot and you removed your hand from his hold. Embarrassment filled you as you scratched the back of your neck, "I'm sorry," you apologize, "I didn't mean to ramble off your ear." you laugh.

Your laugh was cute, something he would love to hear often.

"No, don't apologize." he says and reached over to, once again, hold your hand in his. "Please, don't feel embarrassed. It was cute."

With his free hand, he reached over and grabbed your album to sign. Jungkook did not want to let go of your soft hand. It felt nice in his, like it belonged there.

When you saw him sign it with a message to your name, you opened your mouth. "Can you also put Elijah?" you ask.

he quirked his eyebrow up, confused at your request but nevertheless wrote down the name, "Is he your brother?" Jungkook asked.

You shake your head, "He's my boyfriend! He was the one who bought my ticket actually!" you smiled, "He really wanted to come today, but there was an emergency at work."

Jungkook felt himself freeze. You have a boyfriend? What?

It didn't make any sense. How could you ramble on about how perfect Jungkook is and how adorable he is, only to now say you're in a relationship?

"Oh really?" he mumbled under his breath, trying to contain his cool. "You didn't mention him before."

"it slipped my mind because I was so excited to meet you guys. You and Jimin are his biases."

He didn't know how to feel. Certainly you were flirting with him, there was no doubt, but now you're saying you're with someone. It just didn't make any sense.

"I wish he could've made it." Jungkook says, knowing damn well he didn't mean it.

The bell rung, signaling that it was time to rotate. He didn't want you to go and hated how he only had five minutes to talk to you.

You picked up your album to move on, hoping he would let go of your other hand, but he didn't. In fact, it was as if he held it tighter. You tried releasing your hand, but it was firmly held in his.

Was this by mistake?

Looking to your right, you saw the others behind grow impatient as they looked your way. A lot of the other fans caught glimpse of Jungkook still holding your hand and looking at you with full eyes.

He wasn't letting go and it made you scared because you didn't want to get yelled at by staff and even get kicked out.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a staff make their way toward you and you tried your best to get your hand out, but to no avail. However, there was a savior that stepped in.

Jin placed his hand on Jungkook's shoulder, gaining the youngest's attention. "Uhm, are you okay, Jungkook?" he asked, looking between you both. "The bell rang almost a minute ago, let go of the poor ladies hand."

It took everything in Jungkook to not yell at his hyung, but he obeyed his orders.

"I'm sorry Y/N!" he said, eyes pleading with you, "I got lost in thought and didn't mean for this to happen!"

He was loud and everyone was looking, it made you feel hot with embarrassment, but seeing how he is right now made you feel bad for some reason. As if it was your fault.

"it's ok!" you say, moving in front of Jin, "No need to apologize."

After that, everything felt quick for you. Seeing other members made you happy and it was something you would never forget, especially with Jungkook. He didn't mean to hold your hand that long, so you didn't really think much of it. Besides, you mentioned your boyfriend and your love for Elijah will triumph over Jungkook any day.

However, it was the next day that made things go downhill. You woke up to your phone going off every second. it scared you, made you think a relative died and that your siblings or parents were trying to get ahold of you.

But when you opened your sister's messages, your eyes popped out.

sister: Go check Twitter right now!!

sister: Y/N, WAKE UP!!! THIS IS IMPORTANT!!

sister: if u dont wake up rn ill fucking drive over to your apartment and nuke your door down

You message her quickly, telling her that you're checking right now. Opening the app, it was the first thing that popped up.

WHO IS THE GIRL THAT CAPTURED JK'S HEART?

Was the first headline you saw. You prayed hard and deep that it was something totally different and did not involve you at all.

You clicked on the tweet and your heart dropped. It was clearly a picture of you at the fan meet. it was the moment when Jungkook held onto your hand tightly and didn't let go. Even now you can clearly see the soft look in his face as he stared at you.

How stupid were you for not realizing that fans could take things the wrong way and make it to what it really isn't!

You read the tweet and it made your blood boil.

I was at BTS' fan meet last night and what I saw made me gasp! When the bell rung for the fans to move onto the next member, there was a moment that made everyone shocked. Jungkook wouldn't let go of this girls hand! I don't know her name or who she is, but when I zoomed in, you can see the look in his eyes that he had for her! It was adorable and sweet! The way he held her hand made me swoon!

#BTS #whoIsTheGirl #Jungkook

You scrolled through other tweets, some of them confused, others shocked, a few of them were hate, but a lot of them were excited. It pissed you off. This wasn't Wattpad, this only should happen in cringe stories. You were dating the love of your life and this could seriously ruin things.

Going to Elijah's contact, you tried calling him twice, but he didn't pick up. You texted him asking if he was ok, but he just read your message.

Everything was going downhill so you grabbed your stuff and headed over to your boyfriends apartment.

Upon arriving, you knocked several times for him to answer because there was no way in hell you were leaving without explaining things. When he opened the door, you invited yourself in without asking.

"What are you doing?" he asks, closing and locking the door behind him, "whats wrong?"

You tilted your head, confused by his actions. Is he this mad that he looks so calm?

"I'm here to talk about whats happening on twitter and want to give you my side." you say.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Something on twitter? Care to elaborate?"

"Why are you acting confused? Aren't you angry? I tried texting and calling but you ignored them."

He laughed and walked up to you, giving your forehead and kiss, "I am sorry, honey. I was on the phone with my sister and was trying to calm her down from her first heartbreak. When I saw your text, my phone died."

Elijah then walked to the counter and showed his phone with the screen showing the black background and white apple icon, signifying that it was just turning on from it being dead.

You felt the worry ease just a little as you finally calmed down. "oh thank god." you whisper, placing your hand over your chest. "You scared me so much."

he chuckles and stands in front of you, "Whats happening though? Tell me."

So you told him everything, about how Jungkook kept holding your hand, fans took pictures, thought of something else, and now you're trending on Twitter. You showed him the tweets, pictures, and tags.

His eyes scanned each and every one of them, and after he smiled and chuckled. "Oh Y/N." he gives you a tight hug, "Did you think I was angry about this? That I believed it?"

You nodded your head in his chest.

"You're such a dork." he ruffles your hair, "I would've called your if anything, and besides this is not something you would do. You're loyal, and kind, and I trust you. It was a mistake and the fans fault for taking things the wrong way."

You felt like there was a heavy weight that was lifted from your shoulder. He understood and listened carefully to your words and it made you realize how lucky you are to have him as your boyfriend.

He tried his best to cheer you up, making you food and putting on your favorite show.

When you got the notification that Jungkook was live on Weverse, you and your boyfriend stopped what you were doing to watch it, hoping he would clear up any rumor.

"Hello," he says, waving at the camera. He waited for more people to come on and just kept staring at the lense. When enough people joined, he started talking more.

"'did you see what is trending on twitter?' Yeah, I have actually. She looks pretty in that picture." he says, smiling to himself.

You tilted your head, confused by his words. Shouldn't he shoot down the rumor now instead of fueling it by saying how pretty you are?

"You guys should know that she is just has pretty as her name. Everything about her is flawless." he laughs to himself and reads another comment "'are you guys dating?' I guess this is where I have to be honest and upfront with you guys."

You felt relieved that he was finally going to dispell the rumors between you both and you can finally be at peace from all of this.

"Yes, we are dating. We wanted to keep it on the down low and she wanted to surprise me at the event, but I guess my love for her got the best of me."

Your blood ran cold and your eyes widened. Did you hear him correctly? Was he being serious? You were hoping he said something else and you just needed to check your hearing?

You turned to your boyfriend and see that hes also wide eye, frozen in his place, and even shaking just a little.

"Please, army, im asking you guys to refrain from getting into her privacy. She is human after all, my love and my girl. It would mean the world to me if you showed kindness and love to our relationship."

Why is he doing this? You didn't understand why he was saying these things and what made him attached to you. "What the actual fuck!" you screamed out, throwing your phone.

"How long have we been dating?" he reads aloud, "Since five months already." Jungkook smiles, "I cant believe time has flown by so fast!" he chuckles. "Do the members like her? Of course they do! They're so protective over her, but not too much. After all, shes my girl."

You were sick to your stomach hearing him speak more. The realization dawned on you from last night and why he kept on holding your hand tight, even when you had to move on. Him being your bias sickened you as you realized who this man truly is.

To his fans, he was the kindest and sweetest person ever, his eyes fooled everyone, even you. But now this?

Seeing your boyfriend on the couch, not saying a word broke your heart.

"Please, tell me you don't believe him babe," your eyes started to get watered, "I never met him before last night."

He finally looked at you, swallowing his spit and shaking his head, "Babe, its ok, I believe you." he answeres, "But t-that man," he points at your phone, "Hes fucking crazy. Sick in the head for thinking that. What the hell!?"

You walked up to your boyfriend, giving him a tight hug. "Don't worry babe, I'm going to fix this. I promise."

You left later that night and when you got home, you emptied your purse and thats when you noticed the album you brought with you to the fan meet.

Opening it up, your eyes almost bulged out of your head when seeing his sick note you left you.

You're the most prettiest girl I've ever met with the prettiest name. Please, I want to see you soon. Take care!

Below that had a phone number on it with the words next to it being "Contact me anytime."

You were stupid and dumb, but this needed to be fixed once and for all. Picking up your phone and putting in that number, you waited for the caller to pick up.

It went to voicemail.

You knew this was stupid and it wouldn't work, so you placed down your phone and screamed into your pillow. He's messing up the relationship between you and your man for no reason.

How could a lovely time turn into your worse? Were you actually curs-

*RING!*

Suddenly, your phone lights up with the number you put in and you almost chocked on your spit.

Slowly reaching out, you picked it up and answered, waiting for the person to speak.

"Who is th-this?" you ask, swallowing a nervous spit.

"You called me, shouldn't I be the one asking?"

The voice sounded familiar, but you didn't want to assume that it was him, however you were built on frustration and you let it all out.

"I know this is you, Jungkook. I found the number you left in my album. You are a sick bastard for what you're doing!" You yelled, "What the fuck gave you the idea that we are dating? Why the fuck are you saying this when I've never met you in my entire life.

"Do you not understand that you're ruining my relationship that I have with my boyfriend!?" You yelled into the phone, a tear slipping down.

The line stayed quiet and it pissed you off even more. Even if it wasn't Jungkook on the line, it had to be someone close to him since he wrote this number down by heart.

"Oh, its nice hearing from you finally!" his voice rung out, almost too happy, "How have you been, love?"

You felt the anger rushing in all over again as you laughed, "Are you fucking kidding me!? Did you not hear what I said??"

"I did, yes. But why should that concern me?" he asks, seemingly not caring about the situation he created.

"Did you not care to consider the fact that you're ruining my life? People around me are calling me a whore, they think I left my boyfriend because I met you! Do you not get it?!"

He chuckles a bit, "Don't listen to them, their words should mean nothing. Besides, what do you want me to do about it?"

You froze in place as you were left dumb founded. Is this man serious? "Are you fucking kidding me!? I want you to fix this! We aren't dating and I have a boyfriend, Elijah is his name. Not Jungkook."

Jungkook was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up, "You know, I don't think your boyfriend would be happy with how you were fliritng with me at the event."

You laughed at his stupidity, almost close to hanging up and calling the cops even. "Flirting with you? How was I flirting with you!?"

"The things you said about me being adorbale, funny and all of that. Don't play stupid, its not cute. What would your boyfriend do when he hears the things you said about me?"

"You cannot be serious." you say, angry and confused, "That wasn't fliritng, Jungkook! I was genuonely complimenting you since you were my bias! You need to get out of delusional land!"

"Love, you expect me to go back online and tell the world that what I said isn't true?" he asked.

"Well, fucking obviously!" you screamed.

"Yeah, I can't do that. Besides, what would the fans think of me when I tell them that all that I said was a lie?" he says.

"Well everything was a lie! You created this mess!"

He sighs, "Y/N," you forgot he knew your name, "I'm not taking back my words. I genuinely like you and want something."

You pulled your hair in disbelief, "Jungkook, did you not hear me say that I have a boyfriend 50 times!? There is no us and will never be an us."

He was quiet and all you could hear was tapping. "If you're not going to say anything, I will."

"Love, do you know the power I have?" He asks, "I am a rich man, me and my members bring in 5 BILLION dollars every year. That being said, I have the power to do anything and that anything involves you. Army listens to what I say and eat it up, if I go online with tears in my eyes talking about how hear broken I am.... you can kiss your life and privacy goodbye."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "J-Jungkook, are you threatening me?" you asked, so shocked that you swear your heart stopped pounding.

"No, I would never. I'm just letting you know the consequences of what might happen." he says in a soft, degrading tone, "Listen, why don't we meet up and talk about this? Yeah? I'll send you an address first thing tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"No! I'm not going to meet you, are you crazy!?" you yell, gripping your phone tighter in your hands.

"I wonder how army will feel when they hear you say how 'fucking stupid' I am, and how delusional I am for simply being in love." he sighs, "I would hate for your reputation to plummet."

The feeling of your heart sinking is the worse feeling in the entire world. You were helpless and you didn't know what to do, this was completely out of your hands, he was in charge.

"W-why are you doing this to me?" you whisper, tears falling down, "what did I do?"

"Don't cry, my love." he whispers in a soothing tone, "Seeing you for the first time has made me helpless. I knew I needed you in my life. You are the most beautiful human I've ever laid eyes on. Lets talk more about this tomorrow, ok love?"

You didn't feel like talking more, so you stuttered out a yes before hanging up. This man is insane and you knew that if you made the smallest mistake, he has the power to ruin you and your family. What did you do to deserve this?

*PART 2 COMING UP SOON!*

[charliehoennam]

sweet stranger

A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading

Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

part two

"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.

You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.

The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.

You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.

Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.

Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.

Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.

After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.

The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.

The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.

Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.

You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.

Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.

The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.

It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.

"You must be Mr. Solomons."

"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."

His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.

"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."

"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.

Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.

Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.

"May I take your coat, love?"

"Yes, please."

You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavish decoration of the suite never fails to impress.

Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.

Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.

But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.

Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.

If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.

The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.

Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.

Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.

He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.

It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.

"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"

"Not often. Clouds the mind."

"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.

"Wine is my favorite."

"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."

Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.

You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.

After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.

You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.

No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.

As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"

"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."

It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.

"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."

With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.

"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.

The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.

You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.

"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."

Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.

"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."

He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.

You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.

A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.

"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."

He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.

You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.

"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.

"No, love. Just flesh."

"Fortunately."

Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.

Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.

"How is that, sir? More pressure?"

"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."

"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.

Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.

The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.

Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.

"Is this alright?" You whisper.

"More than alright."

"I can go lower if you'd like me to."

He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.

"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."

You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.

You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.

"Would you like me to touch you?"

You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.

You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.

Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.

As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.

The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.

"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.

He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.

"L-love, you feel so good."

You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.

"You're fucking beautiful, sir."

"Oh, you think so, yeah?"

You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.

"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.

He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.

"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"

His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.

"May I?"

You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.

His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.

"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.

The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.

You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.

Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.

The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.

"It's gonna be a long night."

[freimeka]

am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc

★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here

You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.

As you think of him.

That fucker.

Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.

You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.

You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.

Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.

Right?

You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.

"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."

You can't believe he's admitting it.

"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.

"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."

And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.

"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."

There's a moment of silence.

"I can help you with that."

You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.

He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.

Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.

He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.

"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?

"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."

Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.

"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.

"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."

He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.

"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."

"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."

"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.

"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.

Who are you to say no?

Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.

You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.

"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."

Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.

"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.

"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 31: Fitz's Showtime

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, hypnotic induction

Fitz wasn't one for making plans, normally trusting in his ability to wing his way through any situation life threw at him. That approach had worked well enough until it had ended up with him imprisoned in a vampires' auction house.

Over the past few days, he'd already suffered what was practically a fate worse than death: being left with nothing to do but stew in his own mind. His treacherous brain had helpfully supplied an exhaustive list of every mistake he'd made along the way to end up here, and all of the ways he could have avoided this fate now that it was too late.

But with his cell neighbors unresponsive -- and he didn't want to think too hard about how that might have come about -- there wasn't anything at all to occupy him apart from meals and sleep. The meals were surprisingly generous and varied, and Fitz supposed that if they really were vampires, they must be fattening him up the way you would a prized pig. Sleep was less generous, as the pitch blackness, complete silence, stiff cot, and vampire guards all conspired to make him uneasy.

So he had plenty of time to think of how he would approach it when Lily came for his mind. Now, he'd ended up in a plush, too-comfortable chair, facing down the vampire who'd captured him.

He wasn't even tied down. He'd been nothing but ingratiating towards the vampires the whole time he'd been here. Lily had made it beyond obvious that he wasn't going to escape through strength or speed, and on his first night, he personally witnessed an angry, cursing, struggling man being dragged away and coming back a hollow shell.

No, that sort of struggle was pointless. He could instead bide his time. Be friendly and charming. Hope that someone would let their guard down or give him a special privilege. He'd have an easier time of it and more opportunities to free himself. At least, that was the theory.

Of course, all of that was for naught if he were actually put deep under whatever mesmeric spell they were using to keep the other captives still and silent.

He knew very well now that Lily was capable of it. He also knew that simply resisting would not do -- little chance they would give up and let him go instead of trying over and over again until he was broken. No, the only thing to do would be to play along, pretend to be under her spell, and hope he could keep the spell from touching him in truth. The longest of long shots, but he didn't have a better idea.

"So I hear you've been on your best behavior," said Lily with a smug smile. "Joking around with the blood grader and everything."

Fitz lounged in the chair as though his existence weren't on the line. "I wouldn't dream of being rude to a man who calls my blood special grade A fancy."

"And here I worried you might be trouble. But it seems you do know your place, better than you think," said Lily. "That's why I have a proposition for you."

"If it's another five dollar bet, I'm going to have to respectfully pass on that."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she said, amused. "As I told you before, I'd like to sell you to a friend with deep pockets and a soft heart. I think he will appreciate you. The less you resist the conditioning, the more I can allow you to keep that wit of yours. That works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes, just peachy," he said. She couldn't possibly think he was daft enough to trust her a second time, not when she held all the cards.

"I know you don't believe me, but it's actually a great deal for you. You'd live in a mansion and have an easy life, all in exchange for just a bit of blood." Her words were honeyed, and Fitz could practically feel them worming their way into his mind. "You won't have to be Fitzwilliam de Hastings, disgraceful and useless third son of the de Hastings shipping conglomerate. You won't have to be Phantom Fitz, scraping and clawing for fame with your little magic tricks. You can just be Fitz. Loved. Wanted. Cherished."

If only any of that were true. If only it weren't just a trick to soften his mind and get him to accept a vampiric master, one who would "love" and "cherish" him the same way he might "cherish" a fine bottle of wine.

"As intriguing as all of that is, and as flattered as I am by those lovely descriptions of me, I'm going to have to decline your offer," he said with a tight smile.

Her own smile turned predatory. "You haven't really given me a chance to persuade you."

"I think I've heard --"

"Have you, though? Or have you been half paying attention while focused all on yourself?" she said, leaning in closer. "Here I am, my entire focus centered on you, and you aren't repaying the favor. Why don't you focus, Fitz? Why don't you relax?"

There was no doubt she was exerting her power this time. Fitz could feel the magnetic pull of it. This was it, this was showtime -- the moment he had to somehow convince her that he was being enthralled, without actually falling. He couldn't make it seem too sudden or she wouldn't buy it. What should he do? Should he be visibly affected by what she just did? But he'd hesitated and --

"You think too much," she said. "I'm going to need to stop that first. Slow and soothe your mind, make it so hard to think that you just give in and listen. Look where all your thinking and scheming has gotten you. Won't it feel so much nicer not to do that?"

He nodded, with a bit of hesitation, widening his eyes, playacting that her mesmerism was taking him down once more. Lily was good at luring a mark, but so was he. 

"Yes, isn't that easy?" she said, amused. "Just let my words soothe you so you can listen. It'll feel so good when those racing thoughts slow down. We both know it's inevitable, so why keep searching for an escape that won't come? Why not take the easy and pleasant path?"

"Because, as I told you before, I don't care to be a vampire's convenient lunch box," he said, making sure to slow his voice and lace it with doubt. The more she thought he was falling, the more careless she would be.

"It's so cute to watch your thoughts turn in your head. I can practically see them, dear. I can see that machinery working those threads of thought, weaving them together into plans and fears and witty little comments. I can see all the weaknesses in those gears, all the places where they can easily be slowed. Can you see it?"

"Hm?" he said, caught off guard, not sure how he should respond to that one. Did she suspect what he was up to? Of course she might, she might've mesmerized hundreds of people for all he knew, and he surely wasn't the first to think of pretending.

But that didn't mean she was always successful. Of course she claimed that she was. That was an important part of the confidence game; he would've done the same in her shoes. But for all he knew, her actual success rate was poor. Surely he wouldn't be the first to fool her. After all...

After all, he was...

Fitz blinked, trying to remember the end to that thought.

"...you don't even need to listen as your mind slowly drains of its cares and worries... so relaxed... so comfortable..."

He shook himself in mild alarm. She'd been talking this whole time and he'd zoned out thinking and hadn't kept up his act. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a convincingly dazed expression.

"How are you feeling, Fitz?" she asked.

"...Good," he said, an answer that seemed safe, as he wasn't quite sure how she expected him to feel. 

"Good," she repeated. "Isn't this nice? Having someone's full attention on you without having to fight to earn it? Isn't it nice to be so wanted?"

His brow furrowed. "Well..."

"That's how it's going to be from now on. No more fight for attention, no more fight for approval, no more fight for survival. You'll have your needs taken care of and overflowing praise to boot. Just like you crave, deep down."

Oh, she was good. Good enough to make his chest ache with the thought of what she was offering. If only...

"You're going to be the best thrall, Fitz. I've never seen anyone as delectable, handsome, and charming, with such an intoxicating scent. You'll have your vampire eating out of the palm of your hand -- literally, perhaps."

Fitz blinked slowly, wondering how he should react to keep up the game, trying to ignore the warm sensations he got from the praise, no matter how manipulative and insincere "Do you think that cheap flattery will work on --"

"Look at me," she said, hooking a finger under his chin and gazing straight into his eyes. "You can see it, can't you? A future of being cherished and loved?"

"I --"

"Imagine a vampire who wants you, one who wants so badly to drink deep of your blood that he practically worships the ground you walk on. He'll want you always by his side, his beloved prize, protected and treasured."

It wasn't hard to imagine. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about things like this on lonely, difficult nights. Something beyond sex and courtship. Intimacy. Comfort.

The kind of things that he hardly dared to think about for long, lest he feel their absence too keenly. The kind of things that were meant for those who had grown up wanted, who knew how to trust and let themselves fall in love. These delights weren't meant for the kind of person who wore a mask wherever he went and conned everyone he met.

"Just relax." She ran her fingers through his hair. "No more pain, no more struggle. No more struggle, now. No more struggle."

If any of this were true, it really wouldn't be so bad.

"No more struggle, no more fighting, no more resisting."

"I'm..." he mumbled. "I'm not..." He had to pretend that he was falling. He let his eyes blink so slowly.

"Oh, my dear, my Fitz, I know you aren't. You're doing such a good job right now."

His eyelids fluttered. "I am?"

"Yes, yes you are. You're doing such a good job. I told you, you're a natural. You're perfect."

He couldn't help but smile. That was good. She believed it was working.

"That's a good boy now. All you really want is approval, isn't it? For someone to see you and decide they're exactly what they need."

"Yeah..."

"You're going to have that, and all the praise and approval you could ever want," she said. "I promise."

He couldn't trust her, he remembered. This was all fake, just like every other time he'd been promised something. But he had to pretend that he believed. He was good at pretending. 

"That's right, you're good at pretending. You're doing such a good job pretending to go under for me, Fitz."

Fitz felt the relief wash over him. Thank goodness for that. He'd been so nervous about this the past few nights, trying to convince himself that he'd be just fine outsmarting a vampire and saving himself. 

Wait --

"It's okay!" Lily laughed. "It's okay, really. I know what you're up to. I expected that from you, of course. And I know what you fear. You fear being made mindless and docile like most of your cell-mates."

Fitz crushed down his panic. His plan wasn't working, his mind already felt hazy and sluggish from Lily's mesmerism, and now his worst nightmare might be about to come true. He'd spent so long escaping from a family where every little word and move was regimented, scrutinized, criticized, judged and punished. At least in those days he could escape into his head. Now, he'd be brought back to that place, with no recourse.

"...Yes, obviously, I fear that," he said, hating how vulnerable he sounded but not knowing what else to say. "Who wouldn't?"

"Who wouldn't?" she echoed. "But it doesn't matter, ultimately, because I've already given you a powerful hypnotic trigger the first time I had you in my thrall, and told you to forget it."

Adrenaline surged through him. "No, there's no way you --"

"Showtime, Fitz."

He only had one more brief moment to panic before his mind shut down entirely.

---

"...two, one, and wake. Come back to the land of the living now, Fitz."

He opened his eyes, feeling like he'd just awoken from a really refreshing nap. It took him a second to realize where he was and what had just happened to him, and all relaxation was immediately wiped out by his fear. Miss Lily had given him a hypnotic trigger, she must have erased his mind, he'd be nothing more than --

Except... he clearly wasn't.

"Confused?"

"You..." He wasn't really sure how to approach this. "You didn't wipe my mind, sir."

"Did you want me to?" she asked with a grin.

"No! Absolutely not, sir," he said. "But you had me -- you knocked me out --" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense the overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. Grateful that he still had an overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. "What did you do, sir?"

"I made you obedient to vampires. I removed your ability to escape. And I made you crave our feedings. Nothing more, nothing less."

Fitz stared. It couldn't be that simple. Not that he was thrilled about the changes, but he had expected much more and much worse. 

But he didn't feel different. He was still capable of thought. He was still nervous. He could still remember who he was.

"If that's all you were going to do, sir... why did you bother with all of your setup? Why not just mesmerize me the moment I walked in?"

"Because mesmerism is a performance, dear Fitz. I thought that you of all humans would understand that," she said. 

Fitz could feel his eyebrow twitch.

"There's magic involved, of course, or it wouldn't take so strongly, but magic alone doesn't make me so effective at molding perfect thralls. Cold reading, misdirection, distraction -- all of these are critical to what I do. I needed your original plan to fail before I truly conditioned you, and I needed to plant the seeds that a vampire might cherish and accept you. The results speak for themselves, don't you think?"

"I'm not even sure I can tell what the results are, sir."

"Precisely."

Fitz scowled. Was he really that obedient now? Did she actually make him "crave their feedings"? So he would just accept some bloodsucker gently tilting his head to expose his vulnerable neck... a wicked grin as sharp fangs grew closer... his mind growing hazy with pleasure...

"Oh, goddamn it, sir."

Miss Lily laughed. "Now do you see?"

It was a relief, in a way, that he could feel the results of the thrall now. That meant he could get a bead on what she'd done to him. "Yes, I'm afraid I do, sir -- hold on, you also made me call you 'sir', didn't you?"

"Any vampire. Yes. But you're allowed to say it as sarcastically as you want."

"Thank you for that most gracious allowance, sir."

"Oh, you're very welcome."

Part 30.5 >> Masterlist >> Part 32

Extras: Emily's Crayons Fitz in the Snow

Fitz's Volunteer Part One

Thank you for reading about Fitz.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[buckymorelikefuckme]

a pirate's life for me

pirate king wanda x fem reader

words: 2k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** thar be smut ahead!!!!! boot worship/riding, masturbation, mentions of flushed cheeks. if i missed anything pls let me know!

a/n: i'm on a roll today waow... this is NOT proofread btw but i hope you like it!! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo

part 1 ❀ part 3 ❀ part 4

Life aboard the Scarlet Pearl was unlike anything you imagined. You'd heard all the stories of the crew and their captain, of how they were ruthless and fearsome, in strength as well as in numbers. Yet, for as cunning as they were said to be, they were just as commendable.

Pirate King Maximoff and their crew were said to ravage their way through the richest cities and take as much as possible. The government did everything in their power to stop them, but the pirates were always five steps ahead. On top of that, weeks later after the pillaging, the lower class people were suddenly able to afford better meals, to keep the fires in their hearths going all night. They could finally afford to live comfortably.

There was no way for the government to question it without looking greedy or heartless, so to save the shame of having someone else take better care of their people, they kept quiet. They'd soon find that people who lived in better conditions were happier to do labor.

You'd admired Pirate King Wanda ever since.

Growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth made it so you never even had a moment to question where your next meal would come from, or if you'd freeze to death during winter. When you were young, you'd never thought to question it. As you grew older, however, it became more and more obvious to you that something was not right.

On the nights you'd sneak out of the Manor, dressed in one of your lady’s maids' old dresses and worn out boots, you'd head down to the pub and eavesdrop on the stories people would tell. It didn't take long to learn of the famous Pirate King, even less time to learn of how desperately the townspeople longed for them to show up here. You had no one to tell, but you wished the same.

So, the fateful night they finally arrived, you knew you had to join their crew and set sail with them. You couldn't bear another minute of being around people who looked down their nose at others who had less than they did.

Which leads you to the present, elbows resting on the ledge of the ship, reminiscing on the months that have passed since you arrived.

You'd been utterly shocked and embarrassed to find out the very pirate you so brazenly spoke to in the Manor was the Pirate King Maximoff herself. She'd had a good laugh about it, but ultimately didn't hold it against you. She didn't want anyone to know she was a woman, anyway. As much as it annoyed her to admit, people were more likely to be afraid of her if they thought she was a man. She always made sure those people regretted that, though.

The setting sun kisses your cheeks as you breathe in the salty air of the surrounding sea. You've worked hard to prove your worth, and you have the callouses to show for it. The crew were rightfully wary of you at first, but thankfully, it wasn't long before they welcomed you with open arms.

Pirate King Maximoff, while never rude or hateful, still kept somewhat of a distance from you, always watching you work from her place at the helm. Her chief mate, Natasha, is never far, ready and waiting for new orders to pass along. She was the hardest to crack, but you'd recently had a breakthrough that left you smiling in your bunk later that night.

The wind whips through your hair and you sigh. You couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else now.

“Shouldn't you be getting some grub with the rest of the crew?”

You spin around quickly, startled at her voice. Captain Maximoff stands a few feet away, her eyes calculating as they usually are. Her tan skin glows in the sunlight and you're reminded, once again, of how utterly… handsome she is.

“Captain,” you acknowledge with a tip of your head. “I… I just wanted to have a moment to myself first.”

“I see,” she replies, “then don't let me keep you.”

“No!”

She stops, turning to you with an eyebrow cocked. You hope the flush along your cheeks can pass as being under the sun for too long.

“I mean, um. You don't have to leave.”

She tilts her head, quiet for a moment as she reads your expression. She's very good at it. You'd learned that quickly.

Whatever she finds must be enough to convince her to stay, because a few seconds later she takes the spot beside you, clasping her hands behind her back as she stares into the water.

“Do you do this often?” she asks curiously.

You tear your eyes away from her profile and back to the horizon. “Sometimes,” you confess.

“What for?” she prods.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you say. “I guess to remind myself how small I am, how minuscule my existence is in this vast world. That what I’m doing and have done is right and for the betterment of others more important than I.”

The captain doesn't immediately reply, contemplating your words. When she does speak, it's quiet.

“You are important, though. You are not minuscule. What you have done is important, I cannot deny that, but you must know it is for your betterment as well.”

You turn your gaze to her, frowning. You find her already looking at you and her stare is hard, willing you to believe what she is saying.

“I would not have agreed to let you on my ship if I thought you were not a good person. You've more than paid your dues. I will not hear another self-deprecating word from you.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Captain.”

Her eyes flit back and forth between yours. Without a word, she grabs your wrist and begins walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow. You're smart enough not to question her.

She takes you to her quarters, and when she shuts the door behind you, the locking clicking into place with finality, your heart begins to race. She walks around you until she stands in front of you. You try to hold her stare, but soon find your eyes dropping to the hollow point of her neck.

You've longed to touch her golden skin for ages now, knowing you shouldn't, but unable to fight the desire. There have been times, fleeting moments, where you thought your Pirate King felt the same, thought you’d caught her looking at you with hunger rather than inquisitiveness. Like the way she's looking at you now.

Feeling bold, you raise your shaky hands to trace the exposed skin along her open collar.

“If you still feel you have debts to be repaid,” she starts, her hands coming up to your hips, “you may repay them directly to me.”

You finally meet her eyes again. Now, you wonder how you could have missed the yearning, the equal desire burning there. You grip her collar in your fists and pull her into a kiss. Like a dam being broken, the Captain presses closer into your body, now cupping your cheeks as she deepens the kiss, flicking her tongue along your bottom lip. You open for her with a gasp, groaning when she licks the roof of your mouth. Your head is spinning, eagerness turning the kiss sloppy, yet no less heated.

She begins moving backwards, tugging you with her as her lips trail down your neck, licking and sucking marks into the skin there that have you whining and begging for more. The back of her knees hit the edge of her bed and she falls easily onto it, taking you with her. She's got you on her lap, hands bunching up the skirts of your dress around your hips.

“I thought you were crazy for refusing to wear trousers on deck, but I must confess it's much better access this way,” she teases.

You smile, cheeks pinking. “I'd hoped you'd find me prettier than the others,” you admit.

“Trust me, from the moment I saw you, you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.”

You have to kiss her again for that, tongue sliding against hers in a way that has you shivering and throbbing for more. You pull away, shifting back until you can kneel on the floor in front of her, holding her heavy-lidded stare.

“May I try something I've thought about, night after night since joining your crew?” you ask.

She nods with an interested quirk to her brows. You pull one of her legs forward so her boot is easier to get to. Biting your lip, you lift your skirts and yourself, shuffling forward and hovering for just a moment. When you lower yourself to sit atop her well-worn leather boot, it's still warm from the summer sun.

You see when it registers with her, what you're doing. Miraculously, the unflappable Pirate King’s cheeks begin flushing as you slowly grind your wet core on her boot.

“Christ,” she whispers.

You moan, clutching her thigh, your hips rolling your clit into the firm pressure of the leather. It feels far better than you expected. You rest your cheek on her knee, panting hotly against her trousers as you continue riding her boot. Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You moan when you realize she's unbuttoned her trousers and stuff her hand down them. You can see the way she's circling her fingers and it makes you grind faster.

She moans above you and your eyes snap to hers. She pushes your hair out of your face, tugging on your bottom lip. You suck her thumb into your mouth and she curses, eyes going glassy as her concentration splits between rubbing her own clit, watching your lips around her thumb, and the way your hips roll sinfully.

“You're either an angel or the devil,” she decides.

You pull off her thumb to mutter, “I'm whoever you want me to be,” then suck it right back into your mouth.

“What if I said I wanted you to be mine?” she whispers.

You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them, sending her a pleading look as your hips pick up pace. Your pussy glides across her boot smoothly now, your wetness doing more than enough to help you along.

“Yeah? Wanna be the Pirate King’s kept woman? Want the rest of the crew to know you belong to me? I think you'd look even more stunning with my marks upon your beautiful neck.”

You can only nod, muffled moans slipping past her thumb in your mouth. Her hand quickens in her trousers and you stare, transfixed, your orgasm so close you can taste it.

“Come, my love. Come for me,” she pleads.

Your eyes roll back, the endearment going straight to your core. You grind harder, faster, until finally the building pleasure crests and swells and overwhelms you, coursing through your veins like wildfire. You moan and whimper, twitching as you ride out the high.

“You too,” you beg, breathless, pawing at her trousers until you can get your hand next to hers.

She cries out, then grits her teeth as your fingers help her reach climax. She throws her head back, mouth falling open on a silent moan as she comes, hips bucking into your hand.

“So beautiful, so handsome,” you praise and she groans, yanking your hand out of her trousers and tugging you back into her lap.

She kisses you fiercely, passion coating every second as the two of you come down. When you've both caught your breath, she kisses the tip of your nose, tipping both of you over to lie fully on the bed. She wipes her hand on her already soiled trousers, but you bite your lip, hesitating. Meeting her eyes once again, you lift your fingers, wet with her desire, to your mouth.

“A demon is what you are,” she accuses as you lick your fingers clean.

You smile. “You can't return me now. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid.”

She sighs dramatically. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“I may have a few ideas, my Captain,” you tease.

She pushes you onto your back, kissing away your giggles until they turn into gasping moans.

(The crew hoot and holler when they see you next, your neck littered with bites, and a proud Pirate King smirking at your side.)

[tswhiisftteedr]

Hair Prank! ☆ One Shot

☆Dorm Leader!Vil Schoenheit x Choatic!Pomfiore Student!Female!Reader:

After pulling a prank causing Vil’s appearance to change, you try to your best to run away from his now angered self. But isn’t hate and love two side of the same coin, at least passion wise…

Warnings: Making out, Graphic language, suggestive tones but nothing happens. Not proofread.

Note: This is based from this ask, also I’m sorry I didn’t know how to incorporate the clothing style into the fic, maybe I’ll rewrite it. Sorry again, but I hope you still like it! Mentions of Yuu but reader is not them.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It was your daily dance lesson after school with Vil as your instructor. Epel had skipped out on practice, making your strict instructor, even stricter than the usual due to his irritation. But his constant critique of your technique was getting on your nerves.

"You made a mistake again. We'll start from the beginning once more," Vil sighs as he walks over to the speaker. On his phone, he restarts the same song that you've been dancing to in your lessons.

Ever since being assigned to Pomefiore, your life had been but relaxing. Being the only official female student admitted this year, after the school board had decided to transition from an all-boys to a unisex school, you were sure to attract eyes, Vil’s included. In his mind he would’ve brought you by his side to unlock your potential, even if you’d have been assigned to another dorm. But goody him, as the dark mirror had chooses to put you in his care. But to you it was all a waste of time and energy, you already did skincare and took care of yourself, you truly needed him to interject. Well that was your opinion, but it was plain obvious that it wasn’t his.

Even when you had try to coax him into taking Yuu under his wing instead of yourself, bless her heart, he had shot down the idea right in front of her. Saying something along the line that she was too much of a potato to be able to shine the way he was sure he’ll make you do.

"Don’t even think about, don’t you dare try to leaving again," he turns to glare at you. You were so close to the exit... It's like he had eyes behind his head.

“Lisent Vil. hon’, darling.” You say to him with a faux kindness and sympathy “You’re really starting to piss me off.” You continue, but this time, with a tone of voice that actually carried your sentiments.

"Shut it!" Vil's face is full of disgust. He cannot stand how easily you dismiss his words as if they don't carry any weight at all.

"I don't care how hard it is or how much you despise dancing," he continues in a demanding voice, "You WILL become an ideal beauty or else..."

“Or what my ‘Queen’? Gonna make me dance on hot burning coal, maybe carve my face off and place it on Mannequin head so you can play dress up with it, or make me all old and wrinkly with one your potions as a punishment, yeah the third one seems more like your style. You pussy.” You say to him spitefully, following it with a snicker.

His eyes widen with anger as he steps closer to you, invading your personal space. "Do you have any idea what I'm capable of doing to you?"His tone is cold and threatening.

“Oh I don’t know, since you actually never do shit. You just talk and talk, you must really like the sound of your own voice, and not in the regular person type of way, no that’s not it, you like it and yourself in the narcissistic type a way, you probably get off on simply hearing the sound of your own voice or looking at your reflection.” You continue taunting him, with a snicker that is irritating the shit out of him.

Vil's anger boils over as he grabs your arm sharply and pulls you up against his body. "I warn you. Never, EVER insult my ego again. I'm done taking your attitude lightly. The next sentence you utter from your pathetic mouth had better be filled with an apology. Do you understand me, worm?"

As he says that you secretly take out a pouch full of powder out of your many pants pockets. ‘Cargo pants are the best’ you think to yourself. The powder was enchanted, it made the person it lands on, temporarily change hair colour, about 24 hours.

As he finishes, “I’m sorry Vil,” you tell him apologetically. But in the reality of things, gears wear turning in your mind. “I’m really sorry about this!” you shout at him, as you open the pouch and throw the contents of it on Vil.  The shock from the situation causes Vil to let you go, and you start booking it, running out of the room as fast as possible. “See ya later handsome!” You say teasingly, knowing he would be displeased with his current appearance.

Vil's eyes widen as his beautiful blonde locks turn a dark shade of purple. His face grows contorted in outrage as he screams, "Get back here!" without thinking of the fact you've probably already left.

Suddenly, his expression turns into one of disbelief and horror. Vil looks at himself in the mirror. His heart skips a beat as he takes in his new look. "... No," he says in a strained voice.

After leaving the dorm through the magic mirror, you head towards the Ramshackle to tell Yuu and Grim about what had transcended, and probably Epel too, that’s were he usually hides to skip out on Vil’s lessons.

Meanwhile, Vil is still looking at himself in the mirror with a shocked expression on his face. After what felt like hours, Vil finally begins to process what just happened. "I can't believe she did this to me."

Vil's mind races as his hands tremble slightly. He clenches his fists in anger as he thinks to himself, "That girl... that ungrateful, selfish little...!"

You were sat on a couch in the Ramshackle, retelling the events to Epel and Grim, Yuu wasn’t there, apparently she was with the Ignihyde dorm leader right now.

“And then he grabbed me, and I was like literally against him, body to body type of shit. He started going on about ‘Never’ insult his ego again and that the next words that came out of my mouth should be ones of apology.” I tell them, 

“So he at did you do next??” Epel asks, wondering if this story was headed where he anticipated it to go, after all he was the one who helped you craft the magic powder. 

“Well then I secretly pulled out the beautiful, hair color changing magic powder we crafted, I was all like ‘I’m sorry Vil’. After I opened the pouch the powder was in and threw it on him, with a ‘I’m sorry for this!’. The look of horror on his face was priceless.” You tell them with a victorious laugh.

Grim raises an eyebrow as he listens to your retelling of the event and lets out a sarcastic chuckle at your story. "You must've really struck a nerve." He turns to look at Epel and prompts him to respond to the story.

Epel nods eagerly. He looks excited as he waits for you to continue.

“After everything I ran away to come to you guys, but as I was leaving I could his screech in the distance lol”

Grim begins laughing heartily. "I bet you could hear him all the way from here, huh?"

In the distance, you could still hear Vil's shouts of anger. Grim and Epel continue to laugh at your hilarious prank.

But then you all simultaneously realized that it was impossible to hear his voice, since the magic mirror connecting each dorm to campus didn’t project noise for within the dorm. This meaning only one thing, Vil was here on campus and he was headings towards you…

The laughter quickly dies down as the three of you come to terms with the fact that Vil had just followed you here. Grim gets up to brace himself for a confrontation. "Well, it seems our little game has finally caught up to us," he says in a resigned tone.

A little bit earlier,

Vil was standing in front of a mirror, trying his best to hide his new appearance in a hood, in order not to attract too much attention(too bad the angered noise he was making did the opposite affect). He thinks back to the incident, a look of rage and embarrassment on his face. "That girl thinks that she can one-up me, does she?"

His face curls in anger, "She's going to pay for humiliating me!” he shouts to himself. Vil turns away from the mirror and quickly leaves the room to find you. He then heads towards the lounge of the dorm to pass through the mirror chamber and arrives campus, he guessed you probably wouldn’t have stayed on dorm site with the stunt you just pulled.

Now back to the present.

Vil is walking through campus, his mind full of thoughts ranging from fury and rage to confusion and disbelief. As he walks through the crowds, he tries his best to maintain a neutral or at least stern expression in order to not draw attention to himself.

Vil finally reaches the Ramshackle and he takes off his hood, deciding to face you and whoever was in there without hiding himself. Still, he is visibly pissed as he glares at the thought you.

You hear knocking. And you shush your to friends up, you’re now as quite as mouses.

There is a moment of silence as you hear Vil knock again on the door. His voice can be faintly heard, "Open the damn door, girl! I know you're in there!" The knocking then become more aggressive as he continues, "Come out here this instant!"

It felt like he was going to soon break the door down, so while he continue his knocking you sneakily left the ramshackle through a window at the back.

Vil grows even louder upon realizing that you aren't responding to his calls and knocks. He starts banging on the door in a fit of rage. "I know you’re in there! Come on out. Now!"

He decides that he had enough of the wait, and breaks the door down with magic not damage his manicure, he was still an actor and beauty influencer afterall.

But you was obliviously gone by then, Vil steps into the ramshackle, seeing his two classmates sitting before him. His eyes narrow as he searches the room for any signs of you. He looks at Grim and Epel with disdain and contempt in his eyes. "Where is she?" His voice is demanding.

“We don’t know.” They tell him at the same time.

Vil's eyes flicker with annoyance as the two of them blandly lie to him. "She can't have simply vanished off the face of the world." His tone is angry and condescending. He knows what they are doing and he knows that you are nearby, or at least that was what he thought in the moment. He walks right up to the two of them, his presence imposing itself as he gets closer.

But then Vil decided that it was a waste of time to talk to them, they were only going to back you up afterall, probably give him wrong information. So he decides to search around for you instead. As he snoops around, he sees that the back window was open, then he realized how that’s the way you made your escape.

By then you was already far away, in the mirror chamber, making your way to Savanaclaw to hideout.

As Vil paces around the ramshackle to collect his thoughts on where you could’ve gone and what to do now. He over hears Epel and Grim whispering to each other.

“So you think she made it there already?” Epel asks grim, “Yeah she probably at Savanaclaw by now.” Grim answers him.

What had happened was that, when Vil was still knocking you had whispered to them about your plan to go and hideout at the warmed temperature dorm, before you had made your escape.

Vil's eyes narrow as he watches Grim and Epel converse with each other. He has a strong suspicion of what they are talking about based on their demeanor. "She thinks she's funny. And these two idiots are helping her." Vil mumbles to himself.

He walks over to the window once more and looks outside to see if you is anywhere in sight. When he sees the empty space, his rage only grows in intensity. His face contorts into a bitter scowl as he clenchs his hands into fists.

By now you had a pack of candy in hand, trying to bribe Ruggie into letting you stay in his dorm for cover.

Vil walks back over to Grim and Epel after not being able to spot you anywhere.

He glares at both of them while trying his best to restrain his temper. "So, you decided to help her with her little prank? What a surprise you two were so happy to assist an ungrateful little girl in humiliating me."

Vil glares at the two of them one more time as he storms out of the ramshackle.

Meanwhile, you're still bribing Ruggie with candy. "Let me hide in your dorm, and I'll give you this candy." Your words are accompanied by an innocent smile.

By the time he had arrived to Savanaclaw, you were already well hidden in Ruggie’s room, more specifically, under his bed.

Vil searches all over the Savanaclaw dorm building, but he can't find any trace of you. "Where is she hiding? I KNOW she's around here somewhere!" Vil thinks, as his anger grows. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the dorm with gritted teeth.

Vil's eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenchs tightly as he sees Savanaclaw dorm leader, Leona Kingscholar lying down on a nice sofa, without a care in the world. He glares as his eyes narrow. "Have you seen a student named F/n L/n around here by any chance?"

“Why? Did your favourite doll go missing?” The lazy lion teases with his eyes still closed.

Vil rolls his eyes. His patience is worn thin by this point. The mere mention of that stupid nickname makes his blood boil. "This is no game Kingscholar. Have you seen her or not?!"

“Hm? I see, well I can tell you that i saw her talking to Ruggie about staying in his dorm about 15 minutes ago, though I don’t know if he actually accepted or not.” He tells him nonchalantly not wanting the angry dorm leader to pester him even more, rolls around ready to back to his nap.

Vil sighs with frustration. He knows he can't go into Ruggie's room to look without possibly getting into trouble. "Damn it all." Vil thinks. His tone is sarcastic and irritated as he responds. "Oh really? You think he let her in?"

“Don’t know, don’t care, maybe he did, but she had some candy on her person, and that guy sure loves free food.” Leona finishes, before falling back asleep.

‘Of course she would offer him candy. Something she’s not even supposed to have if she was properly following the meal plan I made for her! She really is an absolute menace.’ Vil thinks with a scoff, his tone dripping with cynicism.

Vils asks around for Ruggie’s dorm number as Leona already headed back to sleep before he could ask anymore questions.

As he arrives at the room Vil knocks on the door a bit sharply, making it clear that he is not happy to be outside of Ruggie's dorm in the first place.

It seems he's already lost a ton of patience and is becoming more agitated with each passing moment. His face is twisted into a scowl as he waits for someone to answer.

“Yes?” Ruggie asks as he slightly opens the door.

Vil's eyes narrow even more, it's not a good sign. His tone is tight and impatient as he responds. “I'm looking for someone. They were supposed to be here. Have you seen anyone by the name of f/n l/n?"

“Maybe, what’s in it for me if if tell you?” He says to him with his signature snicker.

Vil scoffs in annoyance, this situation was growing even more aggravating for him. He was used to being in the upper hand, being the one to call the shots. Now he's reduced to begging some low-life delinquent for information about someone that should be under his jurisdiction. Vil is NOT pleased. "Oh come on, will you stop with your nonsense already? This is serious business." He tries to coax him but Ruggie doesn’t budge.

Vil's anger grows stronger but he refrains himself from lashing out. ‘This insolent bastard. As if the information is wordly classified. What a selfish prick.’ Vil thinks. "Fine. What do you want?" His tone is tense, he's gritting his teeth as he asks him.

“Well, you got something tasty for me?” Ruggie inquires, after candy is great and all but it doesn’t have a long lasting effect for soothing hunger. So he would be opposed to selling you out if he got something better than the sweets you gave him, in exchange.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He's not the type to give in to someone else's childish demands. But he must admit that these demands are quite reasonable for someone like Ruggie. ‘Of course he wants sweets.’ Vil thinks. ‘I'll play his stupid game.’ "I suppose I could spare a small piece of candy or two. Would that be enough to get a straight answer from you?" He offers the hyena beastmen.

“One or two pieces? You got to better than that, afterall I got a full bag of them for my silence. Buying me dinner is bare minimum for what you’re asking.” Ruggie shoot down his proposal,

Vil's eyes narrow as he frowns. He can't believe this stupid bastard has the nerve to ask him for this much. But he's running out of options. Reluctantly, he nods his head in defeat. "Dinner. Alright, whatever you want. Just give me an answer already."

“Okay then!” He snickers once more. “You can look around my room for her, if you want, but that’s it.” He tells Vil.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He can't believe he has to stoop this low. He glances at Ruggie with disdain as he responds. "That is absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?"

“I don’t know what your talking about~” The hyena says, then heads out.

Vil's eyes twitch in annoyance as he searches the room for the slightest hint of your presence here. However, the room is in its usual state of messiness, making it impossible for a casual observer to find anything of value. Vil seems more agitated than before as he continues to look for you. He even opens the closet to look for you in there. He was about to head out until you accidentally made a noise.

Vil pauses mid search, hearing the noise he heard. He turns his head in your direction, instantly knowing that the little sound he heard was due to you. He glares at the location from where the sound came from. "I know you're under that bed little girl," he says, his tone sarcastic as he addresses you, his scowl only growing in intensity.

But you decide to play with him more, and stay quiet.

Vil steps forward, getting closer to the bed. He stands up and leans over it, looking under it. The scowl on his face is so intense, his expression is almost terrifying. He spots your body hiding under the bed and glaces down at you. "I know you're in there, so you can come out now. Or do you prefer me making that decision for you?" He asks and his tone is angry and condescending.

But even after being caugh, you don’t say anything or more for about 3 minutes, so Vil drags you out from under the bed by the ankles. An expression of satisfaction covers his face. He was getting tired of this game. Vil's eyes glare at you, his expression a mix of irritation and annoyance. The moment he has you in his grasp is when he finally speaks. "Now listen, I've had enough of this. You're coming with me."

“Whatever, you’re no fun” tell him, still messing with his temper.

"You think this is supposed to be fun? This was never meant to be entertaining. I just want to get the job done." Vil glares at you, his tone becoming even more agitated. "Now stop your pathetic whining and get moving."

As you were heading back to Pomefiore, you had decided to pull another stunt, by ‘pulling’ hood down. His new hair colour in plain view for all students to see. That pissed him off so he drag you to his room to scream your ear off…

Vil was already getting impatient, and your actions only made him even more irritated. The moment he gets you into his dorm, he locks the door behind you and starts glaring at you once again. His tone is stern and cold as he speaks to you. "Just what did you think you were doing? You think you're clever, but you're nothing but a nuisance."

“Chill out, it was just a joke.” You tell him, not taking him seriously at all.

Vil's eyes flicker in a mixture of frustration and rage as you talk back to him. He stares down at you, his eyes narrowing to narrow slits. He can't possibly find any aspect of you or your actions to be amusing at all, instead he feels only a deep loathing and hatred. His tone is harsh as he responds. "Oh you think this is some sort of joke? That you can just get away with messing with me like this"

“Yeah, pretty much.” You say nonchalantly.

Vil's fist tightens as he glares at you, a vein on his forehead is visibly twitching. His eyes are so intense that they seem like they can burn right through you. His tone is filled with cold and hatred, he's getting angrier by the second. His lips curl up in disgust as he responds. "Listen to me. You think you have been annoying enough, but trust me. I can make you suffer worse in a million ways. So I suggest you stop being such an irritating little girl and start behaving properly."

“God, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” You admit out of nowhere, looking up at him with mischief.

Vil stares down at you with sheer disgust and disbelief. He can't believe that you would actually tell him something so ridiculous, let alone at a time like this. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightly clenches. "Are you out of your mind? Just who do you think you're talking to?" his tone is harsh and condescending, his scowl is even more intense now.

“Duh, I’m taking to the hottest and sexiest man in all of Pomefiore.” You keep pushing.

Vil seems stunned by your ridiculous compliment, his eyes flicker with rage once again and he snarls at you. "Do you think you are actually seducing me? There is not a single thing about you that I find attractive or appealing. So if you have nothing of value to say, I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

“Please do so, I’d love to how this scenario could escalate into something more spicy~” You tell him.

Vil's eyes narrow as he raises an eyebrow. He can't believe how bold you have become now that you were in his room, behind locked doors. He glares at you in indignation, unable to hide his disdain for your actions. "That's it. I had enough. You want spicy? Than spicy it shall become"

Perhaps it was the want to put you in your place, perhaps it was it was the fact that Vil had been crushing on you for quite a while but didn’t confess because your antics, or perhaps it was just a spurt of the moment type of thing that cause Vil do to do what he did.

In one swift motion, Vil grabs you and pins you against the wall.

“Yeah, I like we’re this is going” You say not letting up the teasing.

Vil stares down at you with a fiery-glow in his eyes. His voice becomes smooth as his tone grows more intimate. One of his hands moves down your body to grab you by the waist, holding you close to him. "You really do know how to push my buttons, you little pest."

“It’s one my best traits”

Vil lets his thoughts go wild and allows himself to surrender to the rush of emotions that are overwhelming him right now. His facial expressions soften as his grip on you becomes a little bit looser, he's more relaxed now. His tone is almost as silky as his skin."Perhaps, that is one of your best traits. Perhaps, you are more than just some troublemaking little thing."

“So are y’a going to kiss me or just stare at my dazzling face.” You say with a wink.

Vil pauses for a moment. His eyes are darkening and his lips curl up in a slight smirk. He leans down until he can feel your breath on his skin. His voice is a husky whisper. "Oh, I'm definitely about to kiss you alright. But not because you requested it, but because I wanted to."

Vil's lips press themselves against yours with a lot of force, almost as if he can't wait to get a taste of you, and of course the emotions of anger you caused the man. His tongue quickly moves into your mouth and his hands wrap themselves around you in tight grips. His body is plastered against you, and every movement he makes is smooth like butter. His kisses are passionate and full of aggression, but somehow still very tender. He moans, his sounds being low and husky.

Vil pulls away, his breathing is heavy and he looks you deep in the eyes. The expression on his face is calm and tranquil now, his lips curling into a light smile."You know, you're not so bad after all. Your ability to get me so riled really is quite fascinating."

“Thanks! So are you still mad me my queen?” You inquire.

Vil laughs softly, his voice is almost a purr. A playful grin forms on his lips as he responds. "Mad? No, I don't think that's correct anymore. Irritated? Yes, very much so. After what you did earlier, it'll take a lot more than this to compensate for that."

“I guess I’ll get punished tomorrow, huh. But it doesn’t seem so bad of a though anymore.” You say to him all sweetly.

Vil smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He's starting to get used to your antics and is starting to respond with sarcasm. “Oh, you bet I'll have lots of fun with you tomorrow. I think I've found the right kind of punishment for you. And I'll make sure that I'm really thorough."

“Oh yes, I wonder what the big bad evil queen will do me as for punishment.” You say semi-seductively, it’s more to mess with him then anything else.

“Well starting with extra dance practice to make up for today sounds like a plan.” He states, shooting down any type of sensuality that might been a couple seconds prior.

“Oh come on!” You complained.

Thanks @bananaseq for requesting!

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[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Hello, everyone! Hope you're all doing well. I'm sorry for taking forever to update. There was moving and chaos and continued chaos that I will not be getting into, but I just wanted to thank everyone for their patience and support. It really means a lot to me that people actually enjoy my writing and my story.

With that being said, I hope this chapter is okay. I was having a hard time with it. For some reason when I'm writing it just feels like the words are so repetitive and boring. Hoping that isn't the case. Also, forgive me for any mistakes there may be. At some point when this story is all done I plan to edit things I may have missed going through the first time around. Enjoy!

Ps, my wifi kind of sucks so I couldn't view the gif I picked very well. Hope it's okay for all of you.

-Los Illuminados, 2004-

Chapter 21:

The relief you felt when you finally saw Ada as she hurried through the church gate was immense. The villagers had been circling the area, and were a little too close for your liking. You had, luckily, managed to keep yourself hidden.

“Ada!” You whisper-yelled, gaining her attention without the other villagers noticing. As she locked eyes with you, it was clear to you that you both were equally relieved to see each other.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” She studied your figure in search of any obvious injuries. Finding just slight scratches, she seemed satisfied enough with your current state.

“I'm fine. But I have some bad news.” A particularly loud shout from a villager nearby spooked you and made you walk further away, dragging Ada along by her arm.

“Relax, dear. I took some of the ones surrounding the area down. Only a few stragglers here and there, but they won't be any match for us.” She said calmly. It helped soothe your nerves for a moment, until you remembered the bad news you were trying to share. 

“What happened?” Ada asked. “What's the bad news? I assume it has something to do with Luis, considering he isn't here with us right now.” 

You sighed in defeat. “You're right. It is about Luis. He got jumped by the villagers just after I got here. I wanted to help, but there were just too many for me to even attempt to take down. He told me to wait for you to get here before we go after him. I'm sorry, Ada.”

She gently placed a hand on one of your own and squeezed it reassuringly. “Don't apologize. I don't blame you. I believe you when you say there were too many. I found out from Wesker that the heightened activity is likely due to the president's daughter being in town.” She explained. Your eyes widened.

“The president's daughter? They kidnapped her?” 

Ada nodded in confirmation. “They did. And not only that. We have a friend who happens to be in Los Iluminados as well.”

A friend? Confused, you asked her, “Who?”

“You don't want to guess?” She sarcastically responded. The playful attitude and the smirk upon her face would be endearing and entertaining, if you weren't so crunched for time.

“I doubt we have time for that.”

“Not like we have many friends, dear.”

You shrugged with a nod. “Good point. Has to be…” you rack your brain, going through all your danger prone friends. Could be Jill. But you highly doubted that. Last you heard from her, she was on a mission with Chris Redfield. That was only a couple of weeks ago. Claire? You didn't think so either. It's been awhile since you've kept tabs on her, but you couldn't think of any reason on why she would be here.

“Leon?” You guessed.

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner. First guess too. I'm impressed.” 

You hadn't seen Leon Kennedy since after Raccoon City, when you both had gone your own ways after he decided to risk asking the military for help. Since then, you and Ada had heard things about him here and there. How he now worked for the government as a sort of super soldier. Given his prior experience with his police training and the infected in the city, they decided he would be a valuable asset. Someone they just couldn't part with. 

This was all supposed to be top secret, but your girlfriend is Ada Wong. She could get whatever information she wanted.

“He must be here for the President's daughter.” 

“My thoughts exactly. I'm actually glad he is here. His presence provided a nice distraction to keep the townsfolk occupied while I made my way to the church.” She explained. Those gunshots must have been his then. Never the subtle one.

Speaking of gunshots. You and Ada both startled when you heard them once again, only this time the sound was closer.

Ada grabbed a hold of your waist with one arm and used the other to aim with her grappling hook. She hooked it to the church steeple and then you were both zipped up, landing on your feet with practiced precision.

She put away the grappling hook as the gunshots continued. “Sounds like he could use a little help.” Ada said, quickly jumping down to grab the rope to the church bell. You followed shortly after her and covered your ears in preparation of the noise.

Ada pulled the rope once and let it ring. Both of you watched as the townspeople made their way to the inside of the church. They acted as if they were in a trance. Or moths to a flame. From where you stood, Leon was just as confused by their behavior as you and Ada were.

“That's weird. How did you know that would happen?” You wondered.

Your girlfriend shrugged, “I didn't. I just figured the sudden noise would confuse them, giving him enough of a distraction to get out of there. Worked better than I thought it would.” She finished with a smirk. More of a confused, yet proud, smirk rather than amused. 

With all the villagers inside, you and Ada both went to return to the mission at hand. Just before you were fully out of earshot, you heard a comment that amused you greatly.

“Where did everyone go? Bingo?” Leon snarked.

You were so unprepared for it.

“HA!” The sudden cackle that lame comment got out of you was far too loud for your comfort. And Ada's, judging by her reaction. She covered your mouth with her hand to muffle the sound, giving you a stern glare. But her lips, too, twitched with amusement.

You watched as Leon looked around for the source of the noise, but quickly moved on after having no luck.

“Don't worry, Leon. First time's free.” Ada muttered. She removed her hand from your face after she deemed it safe enough to do so. “You could have blown our cover with your unworldly cackle, my love.” 

You huffed another quiet laugh. “Sorry. I just wasn't expecting it. I usually expect comments like that from you.” 

Your response to her gentle, and clearly not too serious, chastising made her smile as she grabbed a hold of your waist once more and zipped you both back down to the ground. She continued the conversation once you've both landed.

“As if you don't tend to also make inappropriately timed jokes during stressful situations. I admit, I am a little jealous that he got such a reaction out of you. Should I be worried?”

Her hand gently brushed some of your hair away from your face, before dropping it back down to her side. You blushed, shaking your head and snorting at her joke. 

She grinned again. “Clearly I shouldn't be. I doubt he could get such an adorable blush and a snort from you.”

Your blush deepened and you sighed. “Stop it.” 

“Why? I practically live for your reactions. Don't know how I ever survived all those years without your little huffs and sighs.” Her grin turned mischievous, knowing damn well what her flirty tone and words implied. 

And knowing that your blush will not go away because of it.

Evil. Ada Wong is beyond evil.

A sudden ring from the radio in Ada's possession interrupted your, admittedly, completely off track conversation. Ada frowned and answered the call.

“We just lost Luis's signal somewhere in the vicinity of the forest. Expect the worst.” 

You hear Wesker drawl, frowning at the implication. You hope Luis isn't dead. Your guilt at getting distracted just a few moments ago worsened at the thought. Now wasn't the time to play around.

“That's near Méndez, isn't it? He has a house there. Could be worth taking a look.” Ada suggested. You nodded in agreement when her eyes met yours in a silent question.

“Do it. I'll see what I can find from my end.” With that, Wesker hung up the call. Ada put the radio away with a sigh.

“Should have known this entire mission would be trouble. We should get going.”

“Agreed.” 

With that, you two went on with your mission, away from the church.

—

Clemente's Appeal

Master,

If you pay it some thought, it is unusual that Isidro let me go.

Ever since that beast in the black robe struck me with something, I have been feeling strange. I have started seeing things, having visions. The sky itself looks like that of another world. 

And then, that thing comes. Only now there are many. Hundreds.

Master, I beg you! Please! Is there a way to escape this horror?

“Find anything interesting?” The sudden voice broke your concentration. You jumped, startled, looking up from the letter in your hands to Ada. She was taking anything of interest or value from the room you were in. 

The room itself was creeping you out. The light fog on the floor, along with the candles and human skulls set almost casually in crates and tables, made you feel on edge. Or maybe it was just this village in general making you feel so on edge.

“A note about a beast in a black robe. I was thinking it might be the one that attacked us back at the castle.”

You paused, remembering the moment Ada covered you from the exploding substance that had, in turn, hit her. Just a couple drops, but enough to worry you after what the letter said. “You aren't seeing things, are you?”

“Seeing things?”

“You know, seeing things that aren't there. The note mentioned seeing multiple of the same beast in the black robe. And a weird sky. Did you see anything like that?” You asked, handing the note over for her to read.

She paused, avoiding eye contact with you as she took her sweet time reading the note you'd found. She can read much faster than that. Already you knew something was up.

Looking back at you, though still avoiding eye contact, she shook her head and smiled. That smile would fool anyone else into thinking everything was fine, but it didn't fool you.

“No. Haven't seen anything like that.” Her tone was off. Only slightly higher than usual. 

She's hiding something.

“You're lying, Ada.” She sighed in defeat, knowing there would be no convincing you otherwise. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Truthfully… I don't know. After you left is when the visions happened. My surroundings became distorted and that black robed thing multiplied in the middle of the fight before it disappeared.”

“So you didn't kill it?” 

“No. It left before I could.” Ada clarified.

“And have you seen anything weird since the fight?”

“Define weird? We're only completely surrounded by it.” She joked weakly, attempting in vain to lighten mood.

You frowned in disbelief. “Stop it. You know I don't joke when it comes to your wellbeing. Have you seen any visions of the creature since the fight?”

“No, I haven't.” She shook her head. “You know, it could have just been a one off thing.”

“Possibly.” You tiredly responded. You softened when Ada placed her hand on your shoulder, attempting to bring some sort of comfort. “Just tell me if you have any more visions.” 

“Yes ma'am.” You shoved her arm in response to her sarcastic salute. She smirked and put the letter away with her other belongings.

—

Ada eventually led you both out to the empty town center, where there appeared to be the charred remains of a man that was quite recently burnt at the stake. The sight gave you pause. 

“So, they're just burning people alive now? Is this a sacrificial offering to the Plaga or something?” You wondered out loud, not expecting an answer. Though, you still turned to face Ada when you didn't hear any comment from her. 

She was looking around frantically, a slight look of fear on her, normally stoic, face.

“Ada? Are you al-” Your question was interrupted by her gripping her head in pain, stumbling in place. You immediately bolted to her and held her steady by the arms. 

All too suddenly, she pushed you away and did a roundhouse kick to the air, as if something was behind her. She backed away in confusion when she realized nothing was there. “How…?”

“Ada. You're seeing it, aren't you? It's here.” You looked for it, turning around and making eye contact with the giant insectoid in the black robe behind you. 

“Help me out, dear, and point me to the real one.” Ada gasped, taking her gun out, ready to destroy the creature that was messing with her head.

So, with a shotgun in hand, that is exactly what you did. You did your best to help Ada differentiate between the visions and the real deal while simultaneously avoiding the attacks it sent your way. Especially avoiding any mysterious goo it attempted to shoot your way. You both didn't need to be seeing multiple.

Finally, your teamwork weakened the beast enough for one of you to take the shot. The subtle fury on Ada's features made you allow her to do the honors. Pistol in hand, she took the shot…

And missed. How did she miss it? Ada Wong doesn't miss. Your concern grew when she dropped the gun and stumbled once more, clutching her head in pain. 

Angry, you aimed the shotgun at the creature. You didn't even get the chance to pull the trigger before it slapped you with its enlarged claw, knocking you away from it. Your head ached as you crashed it with a painful slam to the ground, right next to the charred human remains. 

You groaned, blinking rapidly to clear your vision and watching as the black robed creature made its escape. Forcing yourself to your feet, you quickly ran over to check on Ada.

She picked up her dropped pistol with confusion clouding her features. And, though she would never admit it, you could tell she was scared. 

“What is wrong with me?” She muttered. She glanced up once she noticed your presence, backing a few paces away from you when you attempted to comfort her. “Stop. Keep some distance.”

That reaction from Ada surprised you. “Ada-”

“I don't want to hurt you.” She firmly stated. “Clearly I'm not in full control of myself. That thing stopped me from killing it somehow.”

You hummed, understanding her worries, but not wanting her to distance herself from you either. “I guess it does more than just show you things. But it's gone for now, Ada. You don't have to worry about hurting me.” 

Slowly, as to not make her back away, you walked forward and grabbed her hand that wasn't holding the pistol. Nothing bad happened. You held her hand in a tighter hold. “See? Nothing. You don't have to worry so much. We'll figure this out together, okay?”

She nodded. “We will. But first, we find Luis.”

[mossy-opal]

"Oh No."

Dabi x Reader Fluff

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Mentions of Smut (because I'm a whore), Swearing

Falling in love was hard. It was scary, feeling worried over someone who wasn't himself. Every time you'd leave to do something, he'd always trail close behind you to make sure you were safe.

He didn't like it.

Dabi was never someone who believed in love, he thought it was only a thing of movies and fairytales, that love was something fleeting, something that didn't last.

That was, until he met you.

You had this way about you, that made him feel things. You were smart, crafty even, and your laugh was something he loved listening to.

That's when he knew he was in trouble.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He fucked his feelings away.

He figured if he felt this way it was just because he wanted something from you. Of course, intimacy wasn't easy for him, but this wasn't intimacy, this was just two people fucking.

But when he looked down at you, and the way your face twisted in pleasure, he knew this was a massive mistake. Your breathy moans in his ear, the way you gripped at the sheets and clawed at his back. The way you whined and begged for him. This was not the right course of action.

But, that didn't stop him.

He knew he should've pulled back, he should've abandoned ship as soon as he felt these feelings, but he couldn't help it. He liked the way you made him feel when you sat next to him. He liked the way you made him feel when you'd defend him against the playful jabs the others would make. He liked the way you made him feel when you cuddled into him at night, while he was keeping your bed warm.

He was in way too deep to back out now.

•

•

•

He knew he was fucked when you were in pain, and he couldn't do much to help. All he did was sit with you, rubbing your back as you cried and whined in pain. Offering to use his heat to alleviate at least a little bit of that gnawing irritation. When you eventually fell asleep, exhausted, your head on his lap, your face stained with tears, he couldn't help but let it out.

"You ruined everything, you know... It was going so well before you came along and threw a wrench into my plans..."

He sighed, rubbing his hand down his face before he put his hand on your head, gently petting your hair.

"I don't know for sure... And I'm sure as shit you don't know... But I think I love you...."

He chuckled softly, but stopped when you adjusted slightly, curling in on yourself and whining in your sleep. Seemed like the pain was still bothering you...

"I really do love you, you idiot.... You really made me feel all that sappy shit I never wanted to feel... The worst part, is that I like it. You're a light in my life, you know... My little piece of heaven.... I don't want to let you go, or let you get hurt... Which is rich, 'cus we're fucking villains...."

He gently moved a strand of hair away from your face, before he let out a sigh.

"Fuck...."

•

•

•

The next day, he was more tense than usual. That much, anyone could see, and it worried you. But, nothing in your routine changed. You sat next to him, smiled at him, and acted as if he didn't spill his guts to you the night prior. Sure, you were asleep, but it had to be obvious, right?

It was late now, and you two were on your way back from a convenient store, when you stopped suddenly.

"Hey, Dabi, are you... Are you mad at me or something?"

He could almost laugh, because he knew he could never be mad at you.

"No."

"Okay.... You've just been really short with me today, and I was worried-"

"You worry too much. Let's get back, I'm sure all this walking isn't good for-"

"Dabi."

He stopped in his tracks, now a few feet ahead of you. He didn't turn back to look at you.

"What are we...?"

He didn't want to do this.

Not here, not now, not ever.

He was fine whispering his feelings into the night, but he didn't know how to actually tell them to you.

"Because I.... I really like you."

He lifted his head, turning back to you slightly. He still hadn't said anything. What could he say when his heart was clenching and his mind was blank, unable to process the pure euphoria he felt, knowing you felt the same?

"I know it's kinda stupid, falling for a villain, but... You're sweet to me. I like how you make me feel and... I'd like to be something to you, rather than just a body, y'know?"

You were looking at the ground beneath your feet, not even seeing how he turned back to you and swiftly walked up on you, pulling you into him. He was sure you weren't expecting this, and frankly neither was he.

But it was better to rip off the bandaid quickly, than to do it slow.

He never liked it slow anyway.

"You were never just a body to me."

He spoke softly, you could feel the rumble in his chest as he held you against him. You wanted to look at him, he could tell, but he couldn't look at you right now.

Not yet, anyway.

"I think... I think I knew when I first made you laugh... And it just got worse from there..."

He laughed, before he loosened his hold on you, looking down. Looking you in the eyes.

"I'm.... Scared... Because I don't want to lose you. I never want to hurt you or see you get hurt, and I'm scared as hell that someday it'll happen... And there's nothing I'll be able to do..."

You opened your mouth to talk, before he shook his head, looking down.

"I'm not done doll, just.... Just be patient...."

He took a shaky breath, and if he wasn't spilling his guts to you now, you'd be terrified he was in pain or something.

"I think I'm in love with you..."

He felt you jump, making him smile softly before looking you in the eyes again.

"I don't think- I know.

I'm in love with you.

You're my everything, and I never want to lose you. You make me feel things, and as corny as it sounds, I fucking love it. You're my little piece of heaven.... And you're mine..."

He put his forehead against yours, and he could see the stars reflected in your teary eyes. The smile on your face, he wanted to remember it forever.

When you kissed him, he felt like he was finally whole.

He had you, and he knew didn't need anything else.

Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabislittlebeaniebaby @malewifetouya @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @elias-fable @starstruck-flames @daniidil @223princess

[vasito-de-leche]

okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.3k words. self-harm implied You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.

thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it

either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.

Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way. 

And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.

The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?

He does.

On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.

You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.

Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?

Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.

All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.

He can't tear his eyes away.

Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.

That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.

"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."

His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.

You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.

"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."

But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?

"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."

The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.

He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.

His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.

"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."

Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?

Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.

He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.

That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.

Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.

"Wait, don't do that-!"

Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.

Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.

"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"

Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.

"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."

"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."

"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."

"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.

An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?

Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.

"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"

"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.

"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."

You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.

Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.

Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.

"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.

You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.

"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.

You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.

"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."

Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.

The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.

Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.

A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.

A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.

And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.

[batsplat]

i've noticed you refer to casey's 'mystery illness' and i was wondering, is that not his chronic fatigue? i wasn't following motogp back then but he's mentioned being previously misdiagnosed, so i assumed that the 'mystery illness' he suffered from in 2009 was the chronic fatigue he's since been diagnosed with.

ah, so there's a couple of reasons I use 'mystery illness' to denote it. the first is that it's not quite as straightforward as just labelling it 'chronic fatigue'. the second is that this was how the illness was referred to at the time, which I think is key for understanding how that year played out and how the entire episode was perceived. this is a sport that was horrendously ill-prepared to deal with an 'invisible' ailment that wasn't easy to diagnose, and the ambiguity and confusion are kinda central to the whole story. you've got ducati taking it upon themselves to spread inaccurate information about casey's health against his wishes, the muddled and irregular communication from his own camp, frenzied speculation in the press and from various pundits... if casey could have just clearly pointed to something, it would've made things a lot easier. but he couldn't - that's why it's a mystery illness

just to provide a basic timeline of how this went... casey started struggling around the time of mugello, but it became obvious to everyone else during catalunya. he was exhausted after the warm-up, slept for a couple of hours - and ended up fading badly in the race itself, struggling in the brutal heat that day and barely hanging onto third place. you can see it when you watch the race back (as we should all do regularly imo)... he's almost collapsing in parc fermé, gets a chair and medical attention before even making it to the podium, and he's barely upright during the podium celebrations. he just about makes it to the presser. he thought afterwards he'd recovered, maybe it was just a regular illness... but then he was struggling again during assen, depleted by the end of the race. in laguna, same story

it is at this point that ducati decide to issue a press release 'diagnosing' the problem:

except, you know. that wasn't actually casey's illness. and casey wasn't exactly thrilled with ducati's press release

so he's going through a lot of tests at this point, week after week, consulting a bunch of different experts, and they're coming up with all kinds of explanations - like, for instance, the idea that he'd been trying too hard to recover from a viral infection. but of course, this wasn't just an innocent mistake from ducati. it was part of a pattern of behaviour in them suggesting he just wasn't fit enough

now, obviously, even if this were true, it would still be blatantly unethical to spread around medical information about your rider a) without their consent, and b) that is also inaccurate

another thing to note about the donington race - this was a mixed conditions race where the ducati team were the only ones to take a gamble on wet tyres, basically... hoping it would rain enough to make it worth it. unsurprisingly, this did not go well and they were horrendously slow, they were heavily criticised for this choice, but casey explained it like this:

wishful thinking or calculated risk, this kind of thing helped make it obvious that this situation was unsustainable. in the run up to brno, reports started circulating that casey wasn't going to race. let's just check out the language that was used to describe this:

now, this may shock you to hear, but the sport of motogp in the year 2009 was not exactly at the height of sensitivity when discussing mental health issues. so a lot of the stuff you read from the time period, you kinda go 'well first of all, that wasn't actually the issue, but even if it had been the issue this would be a fucked up thing to say or even speculate about'. once this theory really started gaining traction, around the time when casey just kinda... up and disappeared from the world of motogp (without much in the way of open communication to the public)... well, that's when the discourse got increasingly ugly

there's a lot of stuff you could rattle through here, but let's just stick to a few key flashpoints. first off, this is what the beloved kevin schwantz, 1993 motogp champ and one of casey's favourite riders growing up, had to say:

as well as this:

obviously, he's entitled to his personal experiences in struggling with motivation when rainey retired - except he's using it to speculate about casey's situation, which is considerably less justifiable. and the other bits give you a feel for the common tone of the discourse at the time. the uncertainty over what casey's illness actually was, how little information anyone had to work with, the feeling that casey should just be competing - and the speculation that his problems were primarily or even solely 'in his head'. bringing up how casey wasn't fulfilling his contract, how it was a disappointment, how this might just be about resentment towards ducati...

when casey returned from the illness, he brought up schwantz pretty much unprompted in an interview:

in his autobiography, he adds the following:

Those comments really upset me and I lost a lot of respect for Kevin because of them. For him to say something like that was another example showing me that experience counts for nothing. The media often turn to former riders for an opinion, which would be a good thing if they stuck to what they know. Sadly, often their opinions are outdated and they don't know the half of it but talk endlessly as if they do. In this case, Kevin Schwantz knew nothing about my medical condition and shouldn't have commented on something he knew nothing about. For somebody who had been through a lot of tough times himself with injuries and such, you would think he might understand. It was disappointing but he wasn't the only one who had something to say. Everybody had their own opinions. A rider doesn't go from being ultra-competitive for two years and then just drop off the face of the earth because it's 'in his head'. It is absurd for anybody to even think that. If it was depression, lack of motivation or fear I would have said. People like Chaz and Leon believed in me because they'd known me for so many years and knew I wouldn't just switch off like that. But not many people stood by me through the uncertainty. Adri, Mum and Dad, Filippo, Livio, Chris Hillard, I could practically count them all on two hands. Even within my Ducati racing team, which only a year before had felt like family, there were doubters. I think a few of the guys believed me when I said something was physically wrong but others didn't. Some of the friendships I had grew stronger through all this, and some of the friendships disappeared. In a way that was a good thing. It gave me a better perspective of what racing meant to me and what people really thought of me, who I could trust.

(of course, casey did also separately have an undiagnosed anxiety disorder that even at time of writing his autobiography he didn't really understand, so some of this should be read with that context in mind. the key bit is the frustration he experienced as a result of knowing there was something physically amiss but having no answers at hand) (very much a topic for another time, but a lot of the discourse also ended up suggesting it had been valentino who had 'broken' casey and was responsible for this alleged psychological malaise. valentino didn't personally contribute to this narrative and stuck to wishing casey a swift recovery, but you also can't really leave this out when discussing either the illness or the rivalry as it was a big talking point at the time)

speaking of ducati... well, the main thing they were doing in casey's absence was attempting to hire jorge. which isn't an issue in and of itself, except they were willing to pay him a lot more than they were to casey and allegedly offering him number one status:

(the article also reports that dani was being touted as a possibility by ducati if they couldn't get jorge, or to have a direct switch between yamaha's jorge and ducati's nicky hayden, a plan which amusingly was said to have valentino's full support)

in casey's absence, the ducati/jorge thing progressed far enough that at one point it was being reported as basically a done deal. obviously, in the end it wasn't a done deal, and jorge ended up signing a one year extension with yamaha for 2010 (still hedging his bets, depending on how the situation with valentino played out) - but the damage was already done. here's how casey talks about it in his autobiography:

They'd told me when we signed a contract for 2009 and 2010 that they didn't have any more money for me, didn't have money for development but now suddenly they could afford to shell out like that for another rider? Considering what we had achieved together, I couldn't believe it. I felt I had been stabbed in the back by the people I trusted and who were supposed to trust me. I was blown away, and not in a good way.

also this charming comment from marlboro:

this all prompted retirement rumours, yamaha rumours, all kinds of rumours, and obviously in the end casey moved to honda a year later anyway. you have to say one side ended up rather better than the other from that divorce. when casey returned, he was immediately competitive, with a podium in estoril following two home races at phillip island and sepang. while the ducati's decline continued apace in 2010 and rumours continued to circulate that casey just wasn't the rider he once was, he was able to dispel them definitively with the aforementioned move to honda

one more thing though: what was the mystery illness? the problem if you just say it was misdiagnosed but was actually 'chronic fatigue' all along is in how it erases some important context. this was seen as a possibility at the time, and he had been diagnosed with chronic fatigue before, but was actually dismissed as the primary explanation for whatever reason. from casey's autobiography (published in 2013):

I had seen doctors about some tiredness back in Australia in 2006. They said I had chronic fatigue syndrome, which they put down to a combination of my diet and my busy schedule. But this time it was far more serious and it seemed that no matter what I tried to do to make myself better I only got worse. I started having more recovery drinks made up of milk and whey powder and my condition continued to deteriorate even more rapidly. I didn't suspect that what I was doing to help was causing even more problems.

and from an article from the time:

you know that last bit of the autobiography excerpt? where he mentions the recovery drinks were part of the problem? so, at the time casey believed the main problem was lactose intolerance

the thing is, a lot of more recent articles have said he was 'misdiagnosed' with lactose intolerance and I'm sure I may have used the phrase myself as a way of denoting 'there was clearly something else going on too'. but... I'm not sure that's entirely accurate? read this from his autobiography, and decide how you're convinced that it was a misdiagnosis:

Before going back to Australia for the next race at Phillip Island we decided to try lactose again, just to confirm that it definitely was the source of the problem. Within the next day or two I started losing my usual energy. In a way, this made us happy because I could finally confirm what the problem was. After that it was like a whole new world. For ten years it had seemed to me that a lot of food tasted the same and I could go a whole day without eating and not be hungry. Once I knew what the problem was and knew what to do everything started to smell and taste good. Even the amount I ate doubled! Adriana could see a huge difference almost straight away. And not just physically: 'I love cooking but any time I'd ever put anything on the table for Casey in the past, even though he was always polite, I could tell he wasn't enthusiastic about it. I was like, "I just cooked that for you!" Now he actually started to enjoy my cooking and that was one of the happiest days of my life.' For a while I didn't go near lactose at all but then we discovered Lacteeze tablets and with them I can pretty much eat anything I want. Adri makes tacos, creamy pasta sauce with vegies and traditional Slovakian dishes like svieckova, which is beef in a carrot sauce, and knedle bread. I could finally eat my favourite dessert - sticky date pudding with custard - without getting sick afterwards. I was always pretty skinny and even though I trained my backside off I never put any weight on. But now my body suddenly started filling out and I started to actually put weight on and gain some body fat, which I'd never had before.

I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure that's not how the placebo effect works

and then in 2019 it's framed like this:

and also:

plus when he's talking about it in that four hour long podcast interview thing, he kinda frames it as saying he'd continuously struggled with these physical issues but they didn't cause his actual retirement. to my reading, it seems that he's had some form of chronic fatigue for a long time, plus some of his issues may have been triggered by epstein-barr virus which he got during his career - but the specific severe problems he's describing in-depth in more recent interviews concern what he's been going through after his retirement

this is obviously quite a complicated medical history, and I wouldn't say it's 100% clear what exactly he was struggling with at what point of time. how do you accurately describe that? I'm not sure just calling it 'chronic fatigue' would be accurate, right? personally, I think 'mystery illness' works as a descriptor because a) this exact phrase was widely used in reporting at the time, and generally I'm trying to accurately describe events from the pov of that time, and b) because it gives you the key bit of information - that nobody knew what it was, including casey. it's just useful shorthand, really, not much more to it

[bozepomagaj]

How to train your dog.

College AU!Trigun (part 3)

Summary: a couple of days pass and you find out that your professor set you up with none other than Nai Saverem to work on a thesis. You, however, decide to make the most of this and finally confront him and show him who's the 'big dog' now with the help of your new friend, Vash.

A/N: I stalled this for far too long for too many reasons but here it finally is! This year is gonna be hectic as I have an undergraduate to do but I'll do my best to stay consistent this time and continue writing this. This one's a bit shorter than the last two parts but I hope that nonetheless people still enjoy it. Like always, criticism is appreciated.

CW: light swearing, mentions of being roofied/drugged

Word count: 1.8k

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

You thought everything was going to go smoothly. You thought that your plan was perfect: befriend Vash's friend group, get closer to Vash, and make Nai's life hell. Except, of course, you were never that lucky.

"Can't I just do this by myself?"

Obviously, he'd say that. As rude and brash as ever, however, you had manners so obviously you didn't talk back. Your professor leaned back in his chair sighing in annoyance. He was an older man and it was very clear he was not here to have a debate with you two.

„Listen, the event is in 2 weeks. The topic is very complex and detailed and I don't want you overworking yourself. I gave this assignment to you both because out of everyone here, you two are the only ones who look like their will to live hasn't evaporated yet and seem genuinely interested in what I'm talking about. Not only that but both of you have made some exceptional projects in the past. I need this to be perfect, it's gonna be representing the entire school.“

Open Door Days. The singlehandedly worst and best event every year. Your classes were shortened or simply canceled which was wonderful but then at the same time all the best students were chosen to do all kinds of different projects to „encourage young people to choose this major“.  And of course, you just so happened to be this ���best of the best“. This also meant that you'd have to be there, standing for a whopping 8 hours watching annoying high schoolers giggle at you as they eat all the snacks and don't even appreciate all the hard work you've put into these theses.

„Plus, what kind of impression would we leave on the younger generations if we didn't promote teamwork?“

Nai's annoyance was so terribly obvious and irritating. Couldn't he at the very least pretend to be fine with this out of respect?

„Right, my apologies. So the due date is in 2 weeks?“

„A little earlier. We need to submit it by Tuesday so try to get it done by Saturday so I can review it in case there are any mistakes. If you get stuck at any point just come to me and I'll help you out.“

You and Nai both silently nod. The professor hands you 2 large Encyclopedias on the probably largest and most complex topic: bacteriology. Nothing specific, just something from that field which just so happened to be so complex that you could spend at least a week picking which topic to do. In any case, this was a nightmare for both of you. You were responsible and you could get over this silly little grudge but Nai? Oh, he would never. To everyone, he was a force to be feared and reckoned with, terrifyingly intelligent, hard-working with an immaculate work ethic. He took care of his body like it was a sacred temple. Everything about this man oozed with pride and adoration. That was until you got to his shitty personality. At times it honestly felt like you were conversing with a child rather than a grown man. But it was too late to say anything now, with scoffs on both of your faces, you both exited the classroom and you immediately stepped in front of him so he didn't get a chance to run off.

„I need your number. Also, we'll be meeting up at your place cuz it's nicer.“

Quick and straightforward. You learned that this was the best way to make him even listen to you. He cocked his eyebrow and clicked his tongue, a habit he got recently and only did it when he was annoyed.

„Alright. But I expect you not to make a mess of my apartment.“

He handed you his phone and you entered his phone number into yours then entered yours into his. The moment you were done, he snatched the phone from your hands and walked off. You scoffed and yelled after him.

„I'm coming over at 4!“

Whether he heard you or not you really couldn't care less. Your entire walk home was ruined, all you could think about was him and his irritating face, his irritating attitude, his irritating... well, everything at this point. Once you were home all the frustration melted as your dear puppy jumped up on you excitedly. He was honestly a better friend than most humans. It's like he'd always know what you needed. Whether it be silence and some quiet time with his paw resting on your leg while he quietly pants or him dragging you out with his leash in his mouth, urging you to take him on a walk to forget about everything. The only thing was, he was young, healthy, strong, and very much untrained. Plus, as a border collie, he had the energy of not one but five horses. Sure, he was a great source of motivation but sometimes you just couldn't keep up with him. Times like these made you realize why your mom told you that it might be best to leave him at home with them where he could go out and play far more often. You glance over to your living room... ravaged living room, to be more specific. He seemed to have another one of his energy spurts and decided to redecorate everything. Plants on the floor, pillows everywhere, and a couple of pictures broken. You couldn't get mad at him because you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. Instead with a heavy sigh you send him to your room and go sit down at your computer. You spent some time looking up tutorials and blogs about how to train your dog but most of the time, it was about puppies or saying how the dog should've had prior training when they were younger. Which he didn't have. With a heavy sigh, you finally found a blog on which a young woman complains about having a rather large and active dog who wasn't trained prior and is now a total menace to her and everyone in her household. Huh. Seems like there were some people like you after all.

After spending some time looking through the comments, reading the replies of professionals or just random people who learned how to work with dogs you came to two conclusions:

There was still hope for you and there is still a chance that your big puppy could turn into the greatest boy ever with enough treats and reassurance and you won't have to pay concerning amounts of money for him to receive proper training and number two.

Nai was more similar to a dog than you thought.

You kept thinking about him since you were gonna have to meet him up in.... oh crap, less than an hour!? You decided that it was time to pack your stuff if you wanted to be on time. Unfortunately to you, the apartment he lived in was quite a bit away from yours so you needed to take a bus to there. The neighborhood wasn't unfamiliar to you because Meryl lived in the same apartment complex, her parents knew the couple who owned the place and decided to lower her rent slightly, while she got to live in a fancy apartment. Lucky.

As you wait for the tram (because you managed to miss the bus by a couple of seconds), your bus vibrates. You quickly take it out expecting it to be Meryl but instead, it's an unknown number. You make a face, thinking it is some kind of a scammer, but then again would a scammer really send you a message that says:

„Heard you're coming over :D“

You quickly type up, asking the mysterious person on the other line about their identity to which they immediately respond, almost like they were waiting.

„Did you not save my number? It's Vash :)“

Huh. It seems like you did forget to save his number. You finally see your tram pull up and you quickly jump on, trying to find your spot. Once seated, you start typing:

„yeah srry forgot about it lol“

„It's fine, but are you actually coming over?“

„on the tram rn so yeah, should be there soon“

„Great :D. I'll get some snacks ready.“

Oh, he was so nice. Just as nice as the last time you saw him. This means Nai is going to be positively fuming once he sees you two interact.

The ride to their neighborhood was quick, you played some music to pass the time and with a positive mindset, you skipped over to the apartment complex and walked in (you knew the passcode because Meryl gave it to you numerous times), walking up the stairs up to their apartment. After ringing the small bell you heard some commotion inside and rather than being greeted with Nai's scowl, you were greeted by a big hug from Vash.

„There you are! I already got worried you got lost or something.“

He ushered you to come in and now, that you saw the apartment during the day in all its glory, all you could say is that you were truly in awe. Beautifully decorated with lots of unique flowers and greenery you've never seen.

„Holy crap. I'm guessing you're the one that decorated this place? Cuz my God, it's gorgeous.“

„No, it was me. And since when are you on such good terms with my brother?“

Ah, the man on the hour was finally here. You spot him in the kitchen, a scowl on his face, and he clicks his tongue. Like always. You side-eye him and wait for his dear brother to enlighten him on the situation and the moment Vash opens his mouth, the biggest, most evil grin adorns your face.

„Nai, they're the ones who helped me out the other day. Y'know, when I almost got roofied? They were the ones who dragged me here. Honestly, I can't tell you how grateful I am to them.“

He looks over at you with the biggest smile in the world. Unlike you, he had pure intentions and wanted to show you how grateful he was all the while you were busy watching Nai's face contort, showing far more emotion than he ever has. He looks over to you and the moment he sees your shit-eating grin, it's like you could see the fumes coming out of his ears.

„Well... seems like I misjudged you then. Sorry.“

Sure, he whispered it, sure, you could barely hear him say anything but boy did it feel good to have THE Nai Saverem apologizing to you. And just like one of the commenters on the blog said:

„in order to train your dog properly, you first need to assert dominance and show them that you are confident.“

And it seemed like it was finally time to train this dog properly.