#the people in there and what they do is not my concern

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Under Watch

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x Hotch’s Daughter .・゜✭・.

Summary: A string of murders on your college campus brings your estranged father and his team to investigate. To keep you safe, he assigns Spencer Reid to watch over you.

A/N: this takes place in the season 6, I just wanted glasses Reid to be in the pics, also not proofread I will come back and correct it later :) xoxox

BYR(b4 u Reid): babysitter Reid, Strict Hotch, Murder, guns, knives, SA, semi-detailed murder description, cuss words, talks of alcohol, kidnappings, stalking, and detailed make out sesh. | hopefully I don’t forget anything!

“I’m free tonight. We can start working on the project.” You tell the guy walking beside you as you both step out of the lecture hall.

“Yeah, that works. How’s seven?” He asks, holding the door open for you.

“That should be fine.” You say with a small smile

You don’t know him well, barely noticed him until today when he’d ask if you’d be his partner. But before the conversation could continue, a voice cuts through the noise of campus.

“Y/n!”

You turn, scanning the crowd until your eyes land on him. Your father stands in the middle of the quad, his team beside him. The weight of their stares settles over you.

Your brows furrow as you step toward them.

“Why are you here?” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t back down.

Your father’s expression hardens. “You don’t know? Do you not stay informed on what happens around you?”

His tone makes you stiffen. “Mr. Hotchner.” The dean interjects carefully, stepping forward. “We’ve chosen to keep things as contained as possible. We don’t want to incite panic among the students.”

“Not warning them is more dangerous.” Rossi counters, unimpressed.

The dean exhales. “I understand your concerns but unless you’ve run a college campus, you don’t understand the position we’re in.”

You glance past your father at his team. Faces you recognize from home but haven’t seen since you left Virginia. They watch the exchange closely, some with sympathy, others with quiet apprehension.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask.

Your father doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches for your arm, his grip firm but not forceful. “Come with us.”

You were led into the campus security building, where case files are scattered across tables. Your eyes flick to a white-board in the next room, crime scene photos pinned in a neat but unsettling arrangement.

“Shut that.” his voice is sharp, and when you glance back at him, his expression his unreadable.

“We were called here because there's been a series of murders on campus. Young woman.” he says, locking eyes with you.

For the first time, you see it, the fear beneath his controlled demeanor.

You don’t know how to respond, but when he lays down three photographs, fear settles in your chest.

“Sarah Johnston, Abigail Smith, Elizabeth Adam’s.” He lists “Do you see a pattern?”

Your stomach twists. Hair color, similar build. Even the way they smiled in their photos. You and these girls resembled each other.

“Could be a coincidence,” you murmur, though you don't believe it.

“It’s not, he has a type.” he firmly says “You can't be alone on this campus. Travel in groups, carry your pepper spray, and you are not to be alone with any male students.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “I have a project to do with a guy from my class-”

“Meet in a public space, surrounded by people.” Rossi interjects.

“The library is packed, and the study rooms are booked.”

“Cancel.” your father orders. “Tell him you're sick, do it now.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

Your father stares. That look, the one that's ended entire arguments without him saying another word. You hesitate, but your fingers move, typing the message before holding up your phone for his approval.

“Good.” he nods, then turns to Reid. “Take her to her dorm, please.”

“I can walk myself.”

He exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why can't you just listen for once?” his voice rises, frustration creeping in.

Your mouth opens, then snaps shut.

“What about everyone else?” you challenge, voice tight. “The girls who aren't getting warnings? The ones who don't have an agent escorting them to their dorms? This isn't fair. I'm just a student like the rest of them. I don't need your protection.”

“You don't understand, and right now, I don't care if you do.” he says, his tone final. “My only concern is getting you to your room. And you're staying there for the rest of the night. Reid, take her.”

“If it helps.” Emily adds gently, resting a hand on your shoulder. “A statement is going out today. The school is setting up hotlines, resources, and people will be warned.”

You let out a slow breath. It doesn't make you feel better. Not really.

“Fine.” you turn on your heel, heading for the door. Spencer Reid following right behind you.

The walk back to your dorm is quiet, not awkward, just silent.

When you step inside, you toss your bag onto your bed and gesture toward the other one. “You can sit there. My roommate dropped out a while ago, so no one uses it.”

Reid hesitates before sitting. “Does your dad know?”

You glance at home, confused. “Why would he?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought that’s something a father would want to know.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our relationship is… complicated.”

“Yeah.” He says, nodding slightly. “I get that.”

You eye him for a second. “You and your dad close?”

Reid shifts in his seat, before you can take it back, he says. “He left my mom and me when I was a kid.”

You frown. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t affect me anymore.”

There’s a moment of quiet before you decide to change the subject. “I have some games. Do you like Jenga?”

That earns a small chuckle from him. “Yeah.”

You kneel beside your bed, pulling out the game. There were probably better things you could be doing, like assignments or your project, but this seemed like a better way to pass the time.

As you both set up the blocks on the floor, you smirk. “Usually when I play, my friends and I have a rule. Whoever knocks it over takes two shots.”

Reid gives you an amused look. “Are you even legal to drink?” You raise an eyebrow. “What, are you gonna tell my dad?”

He tilts his head. “Should I?”

You laugh. “I don’t think it’ll surprise him, I’m pretty sure he expects worse.”

Reid’s expression shifts slightly. “You know, your dad talks about you a lot. He’s very proud of you.” You freeze for a second. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Reid nodded.

You swallow, shifting slightly. “Huh. Didn’t know that.”

He doesn’t say anything else, instead gestures to the game. “You go first.”

The game begins, each turn making the tower more unsteady. Eventually, Spencer study’s the blocks carefully, trying to find a safe one to pull.

“This is getting difficult.” He mutters, eyes narrowed.

You laugh, watching as he finally picks one and pushes it, only for the entire tower to collapse.

“Shit.” He murmurs under his breath causing your eyes to widen. “Did you just cuss?” You teased.

Reid shakes his head with a smirk, while you get up and dig through your closet. When you return, you hold up a bottle. “Two shots?”

His eyes practically pop out of their sockets. “I’m working.” You scrunch your face. “Is it really called working when you’re watching an adult?”

“I’m still on duty.” He argues. “Your dad would fire me.”

You roll your eyes. “My dad loves you. But fine Spencer, be lame.” Before he could reply, there’s a knock at the door. You both glance at each other.

“I got it, " you say, heading toward the door forgetting there was a killer on the loose and Spencer Reid wasn’t in your room to play games.

Spencer moves ahead of you. “I’ll get it.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. You step back as he opens the door.

Standing there is Eli, the guy from your class.

“Oh, uh… is y/n here?” Eli asks, looking past Spencer. You step forward going to the door. “Eli? What are you doing here?”

“I saw your message. Just wanted to check on you.” He says, then glances at the bottle in your hand. His lips twitch into a smirk. “Having a party?”

You quickly lower the bottle. “No, I was just-no.” You stutter.

Eli raises an eyebrow. “You don’t look sick.”

You sigh. “Yeah…I’m not. I just can’t do the project tonight. I’m sorry.” Eli glances between you and Reid before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I get it.”

Silence lingers between the three of you. It’s awkward.

“Wait.” You ask suddenly. “How did you find my room?”

“Lisa.” He answers quickly. “I asked her.”

You nod, but something about it feels… off. You glance at Spencer, who’s watching Eli closely, brows drawn together like he’s analyzing something.

Eli clears his throat. “Well, I’ll let you guys be. Let me know when we can start the project.”

“Yeah, I will.” You say, before shutting the door.

You turn to Spencer. “That was awkward.” He nodded. “Is that your friend?”

“No. Barely know him. Just a project partner.” You say.

“Hmm.” Spencer’s eyes narrow slightly, his expression unreadable. You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” He says, but there’s a trace of suspicion in his voice. “You just can’t be too sure about people.”

You nod. “Do you think the unsub will be caught tonight?” He exhales, his lips pressing together in thought. “I’m not sure. So far, he hasn’t left much evidence behind.”

“How does he do it?” You ask, curiosity outweighing your nerves. Spencer hesitates. “I don’t think your dad would appreciate me telling you.”

You cross your arms. “Well, I don’t think that’s my dad’s choice.”

He sighs, clearly understanding your frustration. After a moment, he finally gives in.

“He stalks them.” Spencer says, his voice lower now. “He waits until they’re alone, takes them somewhere secluded. He hurts them… bad. And then he.” His jaw tightens before finishing. “He assaults them. It’s brutal y/n. That’s why Hotch is so worried.”

Your breath catches. His gaze is firm, searching yours, waiting for a reaction. And for a second, you don’t know what to say. You had meant what you said to your dad about it not being fair, but hearing this… it makes you feel something else.

“If he stalks them, does that make his killings far apart?” You ask, your voice quieter now.

Spencer nods. “He’s projected to strike again in a few days, but we are trying to prevent that. He only keeps his victims for a few hours, but he takes his time choosing them. He studies them.”

Goosebumps rise along your arms, and suddenly, the walls of your dorm feel too close. “I need air.”

Spencer watches you for a moment before offering. “Well can walk around?”

You nod.

The two of you walk with no destination, the sky shifting into soft oranges and purples as the sun starts to set. The air is cooler now, and the silence between you isn’t uncomfortable.

“So.” Spencer finally says, breaking the quiet. “How are you liking college?”

You glance at him, appreciating his efforts. “It’s been good. A lot of people to meet, a lot of things to do.”

He nods. “When I was in college, I didn’t really… do much.” You let out a small laugh. “Weren’t you, like, fourteen?”

He smirks. “Yeah. That might have had something to do with it.” You tilt your head. “What’s it like? Being that smart?”

Spencer thinks for a moment before answering. “Uh- I don’t know. Sometimes it’s good. Other times it feels like… too much. Even for myself.”

“Must be exhausting.” You murmur

“Can be.” He admits.

The wind picks up slightly, and you shiver without meaning to. You mentally curse yourself for not bringing a jacket.

Spencer notices. without a word, he shrugs off his own. “Here. Take mine.”

You shake your head. “What? No, it’s cold. You need it.”

“I was starting to feel hot in it anyway.” He says, holding it out to you. You narrow your eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Spencer.”

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he just steps closer and drapes the jacket over your shoulders himself, his hands brushing against you for just a second longer than necessary.

You blink up at him, caught off guard.

“Now you have to take it.” He says simply.

You huff but pull it tighter around yourself, the fabric warm. “Fine.” Spencer smirks, satisfied.

You glance down, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He replied, giving you the same soft smile, and with that you both continued walking.

The conversation mostly consisting of Spencer throwing out random facts.

Just as he finished explaining why flamingoes stand on one leg, you glanced down and noticed your shoelace had come undone.

“Damn.” You muttered

Before you could react, Spencer crouched down without hesitation, his long fingers grabbing the laces. He tied them quickly, but his movements were gentle, careful.

You swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth crawl up your neck. It was a simple sweet gesture.

“Thanks.” You murmured.

He looked up at you, his eyes catching yours for just a second too long before he stood back up. You cleared your throat, motioning toward a nearby bench.

The two of you sat down, silence setting over for a brief moment before you turned toward him. “So, Spencer, do you have a girlfriend?”

The question clearly caught him off guard. His capture stiffened slightly, and he glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “Uh-no. Why?”

You shrugged. “Because you do all these nice little things. Feels like there has to be a girl.”

He shook his head. “No girlfriend.”

“Hmm.” You tilted your head, studying him. “That’s surprising.” Spencer gave you a skeptical look. “Why?”

“Because.” You said simply, “You’re sweet. You’re smart.” Then, without much thought, you reached up and lightly brushed your fingers through his hair. “And you’re pretty good-looking.”

The reaction was instant. His whole face turned red, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Even his ears betrayed him, turning an adorable shade of pink.

“I-I just… I don’t know.” He stammered. “I’m busy, I guess.”

“Yeah.” You hummed, leaning back against the bench. Then, he smirked slightly, his confidence suddenly returning. “Why do you care?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. I’m just nosey, must be genetic.”

“Right.” He said, nodding as if he didn’t believe you for a second. You narrowed your eyes at him, amused by his boldness. Before you could stop yourself, you turned the question back on him.

“Well, do you think I have a boyfriend?”

He tilted his head, considering you for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Yeah.” You answered casually, watching as his smirk faltered for just a second. His expression was unreadable, but you caught the small shift, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers curled slightly against his lap.

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” He said

You let the silence hang for a bit too long before grinning. “I’m joking, Spencer. I don’t have one.”

He exhaled, shaking his head as he turned toward you, unimpressed. “Yeah, I think I can see why.”

You gasped, shoving his shoulder slightly. “Wow. Sassy.”

Spencer just laughed, and you found yourself staring at him a little too long, watching the way his smile softened his features.

Then, almost instinctively, the teasing faded. The space between you seemed smaller. His gaze flickering to your lips, so quick you almost thought you imagined it.

Your heart picked up speed.

“You know.” You said, your voice lower now. “For someone who’s never had a girlfriend, you sure don’t suck at flirting.”

Spencer’s eyes darkened with amusement. “Who says I’m flirting?” You arched a brow. “Oh, so you just tie everyone’s shoes for them, and hand out your coat?”

He smirked but didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted just slightly toward you.

Neither of you spoke, but something was different now, he was watching you in a way he hadn’t before, like he was debating something.

And then, before you could overthink it, you leaned in first. He met you halfway.

The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, like neither of you wanted to acknowledge it was happening. But then Spencer’s hand found your jaw, his touch delicate, and suddenly, it wasn’t hesitant anymore.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his button up, pulling him just a little closer, feeling the warmth of him against you.

Spencer’s lips moved against yours with surprising confidence, his fingers firm against your jaw as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, pleading for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to grant it.

A quiet sigh escaped you, your hands instinctively tightening around the fabric of his shirt.

“Spencer.” You breathed between kisses, your voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips left your mouth only to find the curve of your jaw, then lower, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck. The contrast was dizzying.

The Spencer you knew, the one who rattled off statistics and fidgeted when people stood too close felt miles away from the one currently leaving a trail of heat against your skin.

Had you really been gone that long?

Deep down, a part of you had always wondered about him.

You’d always thought he was cute. He was different from you in almost every way. Careful where you are reckless, and logical where you are impulsive.

Maybe that was why you found yourself so drawn to him.

His hands moved from your jaw to your throat, his fingers grazing lower, trailing down your body until they landed on your waist. His touch was warm, grounding.

You weren’t sure if you were pulling him closer or if he was the one doing it, but the space between you two was practically nonexistent.

Then, suddenly, he stiffened.

Spencer pulled back so fast it left you breathless, his wide eyes darting around. “Did you hear that?”

You blinked, still dazed. “What?”

“I think I heard something.” His body tensed, one hand instinctively resting on his gun as he stood, scanning the area.

You quickly straightened, glancing around. The campus was quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of crickets and rustling leaves from the breeze.

“Maybe we should head back.” You suggested, still trying to catch your breath.

Spencer nodded, but not before his gaze flickered back to you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss you’d just shared.

“Yeah.” He said, his voice quieter now. “It’s late.”

The both of you walk back in silence, both thinking about the actions that took place a moment ago.

As you finally reach your dorm, something on the floor catches your eye. A pink envelope.

Spencer notices it too, his sharp gaze narrowing. Without hesitation, he bends down to grab it. “It just has your name.” He says, his voice low. He hands it over, and you take it.

You open it without thinking much, assuming it’s some harmless note. But the moment you pull out what’s inside, a wave of fear washes over you.

“Oh my god.”

Your voice trembles as your fingers clutch the two Polaroid photos. The first is of you and Spencer kissing. His hand cupping your jaw, the image capturing the undeniable intimacy of the moment.

The second photo was when Spencer was scanning the area after hearing a strange noise, his hand on his gun. Someone had been watching. Someone had been right there.

You shove the photos toward Spencer. His expression hardens as he studies them, brows furrowing deeply. He looked furious.

“We have to give these to the team.” He says firmly.

“No, it’s probably just a prank.” You argue, though your voice is weak. You’re desperate to convince yourself, but even you don’t believe it.

Spencer shakes his head. “We can’t be too sure. I’m sorry.” He apologizes as he slides the photos back into the envelope.

You swallow hard, the weight of it all crashing down. “My dad’s going to be upset.”

Spencer steps toward you, his fingers brushing the strands of your hair behind your ear. “It’s going to be alright.” He assures you.

Your eyes scan him, and you can see guilt flashing across his face. You know he feels responsible, and you can’t help but feel the same.

Without another word, he pulls out his phone. “We have something that might be connected.” He says into the receiver, his voice clipped. “Alright. We’ll be on our way.”

The walk to campus security is silent, the dread growing heavier with every step. When you arrive, your father is already there, his signature stoic expression barely concealing his concern.

“What is it?” He asks, striding toward you both.

You and Spencer exchange a quick, uneasy glance. Spencer hands him the envelope.

Your father opens the envelope, his eyes flickering over the contents. The tension in the room is unbearable. You swear you can hear Spencer’s heartbeat.

“What is this?” Hotch’s voice is low, but the restrained anger is clear. His gaze shifts to you, demanding answers.

“They were taken of us… not too long ago.” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn't respond immediately. The weight of his silence is crushing.

“So, I send an agent to watch over you, and instead, you make him go against orders. You kiss him while a murderer is on the loose, on your campus, targeting girls.” his words cut through you.

“I-I know. I'm sorry.” you stammer, instinctively glancing at Spencer. “It was my fault.”

But Spencer immediately shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. I’m the one that didn’t follow orders, it’s not her fault.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is. You both had orders, and you failed to comply.” He looks directly at Spencer. “Reid, join JJ. Now.”

Spencer hesitates, clearly torn, but nods. He gives you one last glance before walking away.

“Y/n.” Your father’s voice lowers. “We need to talk.”

You follow him into an empty room, the door clicking shut behind you. The air is thick with unspoken words. You brace yourself, expecting the worst. But when your father finally speaks, it isn’t the scolding you anticipated.

“Do you think you might know who took these?” His tone is calm, but his eyes remain sharp.

You’re caught off guard. “No. I don’t.”

“Think y/n. Is there anyone - someone you’ve been seeing? Someone who might have been watching you?”

You rack your brain, the panic making it hard to focus. “There’s… Eli. The guy I’m working on a project with. He came by to check on me, but that’s really the only person I’ve talked to.”

Your father nods, processing. “And your roommate, do you think she seems like the type to give out your whereabouts? Does she seem untrustworthy?”

You shake your head. “I don’t have one.”

His jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” You admit, your voice small.

“You didn’t think it was important to tell me you were alone in your dorm? That was the one thing I take comfort in while you are away, knowing there was someone else there.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

His expression softens just a fraction, but the frustration is still evident. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, I need to question Eli. What class?”

“Psychology.” You say

He gives you a short nod and turns to leave. You follow him out, but the tension lingers.

“Garcia can you look through the schools files for an Eli, a class he takes is psychology with y/n.” He says on the phone.

“I don’t think it’s him.” You say quietly. “I’ve barely seen him around.”

“And that.” Derek interjects, stepping beside you, “Makes him even more suspicious.”

Emily nods in agreement. “If he’s the unsub, he could’ve been targeting you. Sudden appearances aren’t always coincidences.”

You sigh, and take a seat in one of the chairs, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Despite the hum of voices around you, exhaustion wins. Your eyes fluttered close, and before you realize it, sleep over takes you.

“Okay, Garcia gave me the location of Eli’s apartment.” Your dad’s stern voice snaps you awake. “Morgan and JJ, come with me. Prentiss and Rossi, stay here and keep an eye on them.”

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you sit up. “What’s going on?”

Your father doesn’t answer, already halfway through to door. Emily steps closer, her expression a mixture of concern and relief. “They found Eli’s apartment. But, y/n … Eli was never enrolled in your class.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“He’s been sneaking in.” She says softly. “Pretending to be a student. We think he’s been watching you for a while.”

You stare at her, the words sinking in. Your pulse races as the realization hits. “Oh my god.”

“It’s becoming clear that you were most likely one of his next victims.” Rossi joins in, their eyes both full of empathy.

“But he seemed so…” you trail off, struggling to find the right word. Normal doesn’t feel right. Not now.

“I know.” Emily says, nodding. “It’s difficult. But we’re close to figuring this out. You’re safe now.”

You swallow, the reassurance barely easing your nerves. Rossi lays a reassuring hand on your should giving it a gentle squeeze “It’s going to be okay kid.” He says you nodded and watched as he walked away.

You sit back down, gathering the information you’ve just been told.

Just as the heavy silence settles in, Emily tilts her head, smirking slightly. “That’s a nice sweater.”

Confused, you glance down. It’s only then you remember, Spencer’s sweater. The sleeves are a little long, the faint scent of his cologne lingering.

“Oh. Uh it’s not mine.” You mumble, tugging at the hem. Emily’s smirk deepens. “I know.”

Without another word, she stands and walks toward one of the other rooms, leaving you with your thoughts. You let out a long breath, rubbing your hands over your face. The stress is unbearable.

“Here.” Spencer’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. He holds out a cup of coffee, his fingers brushing yours as you take it.

“Thank you.” You murmur, the warmth of the cup grounding you, he gave you a soft warm smile. “I’m sorry Spencer.” You apologize.

His eyes scan your face. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

You blink at him. “You’re acting as if I didn’t kiss you back.” He says. Heat creeps up your neck. “I just feel like this is my fault.” You admit, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re stuck here instead of searching Eli’s apartment. Emily having to babysit now. And all because-”

“Because we went for a walk?” Spencer finishes, raising an eyebrow. “And kissed? You do realize that without that walk, and that kiss, we probably wouldn’t have gotten this close to catching him.”

His words sink in. The guilt that’s been gnawing at you lessens, just a little.

“So in some weird, messed-up way.” He continues, his voice softer. “It’s a good thing.”

You manage a small smile. “I guess.”

Spencer’s grin grows, and for a second, the tension in the air lightens. “Well, I should get out of here before Emily comes back.”

“Probably a good idea.”

With one last lingering look, he turns and heads out. The warmth of the moment fades as the waiting continues. Minutes pass, then thirty. You sip the last of your coffee, anxiety prickling beneath your skin.

The sudden sound of the door opening draws your attention. Your father and Morgan stride inside, and between them, handcuffed and smirking, is Eli.

“Prentiss, Reid.” Hotch says, his voice sharp. “Join JJ at Eli’s apartment. She’s going through it now.”

Spencer and Emily don’t waste a second, slipping out of the building. You barely register them leaving, your focus locked on Eli. He walks past you, and despite the restraints, his presence feels suffocating.

“It’s not over.” He evilly smiles as the words left his mouth, your blood runs cold.

“Don’t speak to her!” Your father snaps, his voice booming. In an instant, Hotch has Eli shoved against the wall, his face pressed hard against the surface.

You flinch, heart stammering. Eli only laughs. The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

“y/n.” Morgan’s voice is calm but firm as he steps closer. “If you need anything, we’re here. Don’t go anywhere alone. Got it?”

You nod, barely able to find your voice. “Got it.”

Morgan gives you a reassuring nod before following your father into the makeshift interrogation room. You’re left there, your mind racing. Emily’s words from earlier echo in your head.

“You’re safe now”

You want to believe that, but with Eli’s words burned into your memory, it’s hard to feel safe at all.

After what felt like hours, you made your way to the restroom, you splash cold water on your face, the droplets sliding down your skin as you brace your hands on the sink.

The reflection staring back at you is pale and exhausted, the weight of everything visible in your eyes. You close them for a moment, willing the lingering feeling to disappear.

But then, the sound of a lock clicking behind you jolts you awake.

Your heart leaps as you whip around. A man stands in the front of the door, his expression twisted with excitement. He’s holding a gun, the metallic glint catching the harsh bathroom light.

“We’re going to do this the easy way, okay Claire?” His voice is disturbingly calm, like he’s rehearsed these words a thousand times.

“Claire?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m not Claire.”

But he doesn’t listen. He steps forward, his grip tightening around the gun. You instinctively back away.

“It’s okay.” He soothes, though his eyes are wild. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want you with me.”

He’s closing in now, his body looming. You can feel the panic rising, your chest tightening. Every part of you screams to run, but the barrel of the gun hovers dangerously close.

“Let’s go home, Claire.”

The words send a chill down your spine. You open your mouth to scream, but before you can make a sound, the gun is at your temple. The cold steel sends a shock through you.

“We’re going to be quiet, okay?” He growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t make me shoot you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your pulse pounds. You can feel his erratic breathing, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. Every instinct tells you to fight, to scream, but you don’t.

“Okay.” You force out, your voice trembling.

He grabs your arm, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you towards the door. Each step is slow, calculated. He cracks the door open, peering down the empty hallway. You silently pray that someone will come, your dad, Morgan, Rossi, anyone.

But the hall remains empty.

No one sees.

No one hears.

And then, he’s dragging you through the exit.

——

Back in the interrogation room, Eli sits slouched in the chair, a smug grin plastered across his face.

“You’re making a mistake.” He taunts, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Rossi narrowed his eyes. “A mistake?”

Eli nods, chuckling to himself. “I knew you’d come. That’s why I was home. You’re too predictable. And while you’re all in here wasting time on me…” he leans forward, savoring every word. “No one’s watching your daughter.”

The room shifts in an instant. The air turns cold. Hotch’s face darkens, fear flashing through his eyes.

“Morgan, Rossi. Stay here.” Hotch orders, his voice sharp. Without another word, he storms out. His movements are frantic, searching every corner of the building. Empty chairs, empty hallways. The tension grows unbearable.

“Where the hell is she?” He demands, slamming his fists on the table when he returns. The sound echoes through the room.

Eli simply smirks. “I don’t know.”

——

The van jerks violently as the man speeds through the dark streets. Your wrists ache from the rope biting into your skin, and the duct tape over your mouth muffles your desperate pleads.

He’s erratic, mumbling to himself as he drives. You pray for the sight of flashing police lights, for anyone who might notice how reckless he’s being. But the roads remain empty.

After what feels like eternity, the van screeches to a stop.

“We’re here.” He announces, giddy like a child on Christmas morning.

He yanks open the back doors, his rough hands grabbing at you. You scream, the sound muffled and desperate. You kick, pounding your fists against his back as he hauls you over his shoulder. But it doesn’t faze him.

The air shifts as he carries you inside. The stench is unbearable, a rancid mixture of mildew, rot, and something metallic. The walls are stained, rust creeping across the cracked concrete. Water pools around the floor, dark and slick.

He dumps you onto the ground, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Before you can react, he pulls a heavy chain from the corner, the rusted links clinking together.

“This is so you don’t try and leave like the others.” He sneers

The chain clamps around your neck, the padlock snapping shut. The weight is suffocating, restricting your movements to only a few feet. You twist and pull, but it’s useless.

He crouches in front of you, his grin wide with satisfaction. “We’re finally together, Claire. Just like I promised.”

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, your heart continues to pound violently. The panic threatens to consume you, but you fight it. You have to stay calm. You have to find a way out.

But as he watches you with twisted delight, the truth sinks in. No one knows where you are.

The tape rips from your mouth, the sting sharp against your skin. You gasp, your chest heaving, but before you can speak, the man crouches in front of you, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Before we continue, Claire.” He says, his voice low and deliberate “I need you to be truthful.”

Your glare sharpens, every nerve in your body screaming to fight. “I’m not Claire, you psycho! Let me go!”

The words barely leave your lips before his hands snap to your face, gripping your chin tightly. The veins in his neck bulge with fury.

“You are Claire!”

His trembling hand digs into his pocket, pulling out a worn photo. He shoves it into your view. “This is us, Claire! Before you decided to leave!”

The woman in the photo has your face, or almost. The same features, the same hair.

“That’s not me.” You whisper, shaking your head.

“You always like to lie!” He growls, his voice cracking. He finally lets go, pushing you back against the cold wall as he paces, running his free hand through his greasy hair.

Then he stops.

“Who was that guy?” His voice drops, seething. “The scrawny agent. Why were you with him?”

You blink, confused. “What?”

His teeth clench. “Why did you let him touch you?” He snarls. “Why did you let him look at you like that?!”

He’s talking about Spencer.

“No, no.” You stammer, your pulse racing. “He’s no one. You don’t have to worry about him.”

But it’s too late. The idea is planted, festering in his mind. He shakes his head, a bitter grin twisting his lips.

“I need him here.” He says, his voice trembling with conviction. “I’m going to bring him here.”

“No!” You cry, panic lacing your voice. “You don’t need him! You have me!”

“You need to help me, Claire!” He pleads, crouching down once more. His eyes are wide, frantic. “You have to get him here.”

Tears burn your eyes as you shake your head. “I can't do that.”

He reaches forward, his rough thumb swiping a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, darling. It's going to be okay.”

But it won't be.

“Tell me the number.” his voice cracks, dangerous edge creeping in. “I wont.” you whisper.

His hand snaps to his belt, pulling out a small knife. The light catches the dull blade.

“Why are you making me do this?!” he roars, the knife flashing. Before you can move, the cold steel slices across your arm. The pain is immediate, searing. You scream, clutching at the bleeding wound.

——

“Y/n is missing.”

JJ’s words hit like a bullet. Spencer’s heart drops.

“What?” He breathes, his voice sharp. “How? Someone was supposed to be watching her.”

“We don’t know, but Hotch needs us.”

Without another thought, they leave Eli’s apartment and rush back to campus. Spencer’s mind races, his breath short. This can’t be happening.

Emily and JJ make their way into the building but before Spencer reaches the door behind them, his phone rings.

His hands fumble as he answers.

“Hello?”

“Spencer.” Your voice quivers on the other end. “It’s me.”

His chest tightens. “Y/n! Where are you? Hold on! Let me get Hotch.”

“No!” Your voice cracks. “Spencer, don’t. Please… just come. He wants you here, and he says he’ll hurt me if you bring the team.”

“Y/n.” Spencer runs a trembling hand through his hair, panic gripping him.

“Come unarmed.” You whisper. “The address is 3840 Cherry road.”

The line crackles. And then-

“Don’t come, Spencer! Please!”

A sickening thud enters through the phone, your muffled cries follow.

“y/n!” Spencer shouts, his voice breaking. But there’s no answer.

The line goes dead.

His hands shake as he scribbles the address onto a scrap of paper, dropping it where someone will find it. Without another word, he bolts for the SUV.

——

The building looms ahead, rotting, desolate. Spencer moves quickly, his steps silent. The walls are damp, stained with water and time. The stench of mold lingers.

Then he sees you. Sitting against a wall, your head hanging low.

“Y/n.” He gasps, rushing to your side. Blood stains your lips, your nose, and a fresh cut marks your cheek. You’re barely conscious, your head lolling.

“Spencer?” You murmur, your voice weak. But as your eyes adjust, terror flashes across your face.

“No.” You whisper, your hands weakly pushing him away. “Why did you come? I told you not to.”

Before Spencer can respond, a voice rings out.

“Stop touchin’ her.”

Spencer freezes. You both turn, dread pulling in your stomach. The man stands, his eyes blazing with fury.

He lunges, grabbing Spencer and shoving him to the ground, he then pulls out a gun.

“You don’t want to do this.” Spencer says, his hands raised. “We can talk.”

“Why were you with Claire?” The man’s voice booms, echoing through the building. “She doesn’t want you! She wants me!”

“Claire?” Spencer asks cautiously, trying to keep him talking. “Don’t say her name!”

“You want the truth?” Spencer’s voice is steady now, his eyes never leaving the gun. “She doesn’t want you. She never did.”

You stare at him in shock, wondering if he’s gone crazy.

“She wants me.” Spencer presses, his voice low “She doesn’t want you.”

“Do you want me to explain more of what we did?, what you didn’t get to see?” Spencer asked. “What is he talking about?” The unsub asked as he made his way towards you angrily. “You slut!” He spat in your face, but before he could strike you a gunshot echos.

The man in front of you crumbles, blood stains his chest. His eyes go wide, and the life drains from him.

You gasp, and look to see Spencer standing, his gun drawn, chest heaving.

He rushes to get the keys out of the pockets of the dead man, then to you unlocking the chain from your neck, and untying your wrists. The moment you’re free, you collapse into his arms.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, holding you tightly, his hand going up and down your back. “You’re safe now.”

You cling to him, sobbing. “I was so scared.”

“I know.” Spencer breathes, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of footsteps echo. “They’re in here!” Morgan’s voice rings out.

Hotch bursts through the doors, his eyes locking onto you and Spencer. You let go of Spencer and make your way towards your dad, stumbling, but he needs you halfway and catches you in his arms, tightly pulling you against him.

He was scared to let you go, scared you’d disappear.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, his voice thick with guilt.

You shook your head not wanting to hear his apologies, you were just thankful to be able to see him again.

“I want to go home.” You whisper, your tears soaking into his shirt.

Hotch’s hand gently cups your face, his fingers tracing the cuts. He nods, his voice trembling.

“We’ll go home, baby.”

——

1 month later…

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and stepped into the familiar hum of the BAU office. Jacks small hand gripped yours tightly while the other held a plate of cookies, still warm from the oven. As you passed through the glass doors, a wave of familiar faces greeted you, their smiles wide with excitement.

“Y/n!” JJ’s voice rang out first, her arms already reaching for you. She pulled you into a tight hug, swaying you slightly before Emily joined in.

“I was wondering when we’d get a visit!” Emily grinned, her dark eyes bright.

“Yeah, I would’ve come sooner but-”

“But I told her to stay home and rest.” Your dad cut in, his voice warm as he appeared beside you. Jack immediately wiggled free to run into his arms.

“Makes sense, recovery is important.” Rossi added, his fatherly tone laced with relief.

“Yeah, but it could’ve been worse.” You said, shrugging. “I’m just glad I healed up so quickly.”

“We all are, kid.” Derek said, squeezing your shoulder. His easy grin was one you’d miss.

“And what do we have here?” Penelope asked, her bright eyes locked on the plate in your hands.

“Cookies.” You answered, holding the plate up. “I wanted to thank you all. For everything. For helping me.”

A chorus of “Aww’s” and “Yay’s” echoed through the bullpen, and you set the plate on the nearest desk as the team eagerly grabbed a treat. Your father’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, his grip, strong and steady.

“Thank you.” He said softly, his voice just for you.

you met his gaze, the tension that had once existed between you now barely a shadow. “Thank you, dad. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m sorry for how things were before. But I’m glad we’re…better now.”

His eyes softened, and he kissed the top of your head, a rare display of affection that made your chest ache in the best possible way.

As the others laughed and chatted, you scanned the room instinctively. And there he was.

Through the glass walls of an office, Spencer Reid stood, his tall frame slightly hunched as he watched you. His eyes met yours, warm and hesitant. Without thinking, you smiled. He moved towards you, his steps quick.

“Y/n.” He said

“Spencer.” The way his name left your lips felt far too easy. “How are you feeling? Are you- are you okay?” His voice was careful, but the concern was evident.

“I’m good. Really good.” You reassured him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Better than ever, actually.”

His smile mirrored yours, though his eyes lingered on you like he was still checking for any sign of pain. “That’s…that’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”

“You should grab a cookie before Morgan eats the whole plate.” You joked, tilting your head toward the group. “yeah, I probably should.” He laughed softly, but he didn’t move.

His gaze held yours, something unspoken passing between you.

“How about you? How’ve you been?” you asked, shifting slightly closer. “Oh, you know. Same old routine,” he said with a small shrug. “Books. Cases. A lot of facts no one asked for.”

You grinned. “Still no girlfriend then?”

His eyes widened, and he stammered. “Uh, no. No girlfriend.”

“Shame.” You teased. “I finally turn twenty-one tomorrow, you know. So if you’re free we can finally have that drink you denied me last time at my dorm.”

He blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do.” You grinned. “And now you don’t have an excuse.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’d like that a lot.”

“Good.” You lingered on the word, savoring how his cheeks turned reddened.

“I could pick you up.” He offered quickly. “If you want.”

“Perfect.” You nodded. “I live with my dad now, so just come by.”

“You moved back to Virginia?”

“Yeah, I transferred. It’s… nice being here. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I came back.”

“I’m glad you’re back.” Spencer said softly. “Maybe we can, uh, hang out more.”

You tilted your head, biting back a grin. “I’d like that. A lot.”

“Cool.” His voice cracked slightly, and the way his eyes flickered down to the floor only made him more endearing.

“Cool.” You echoed playfully, reaching for his hand. “But first, cookies!”

You tugged him gently, his hand gently squeezed yours, neither of you said anything, but the warmth lingered.

You and Jack stayed a bit longer, but the team eventually had to get back to work. With a few more laughs and lingering hugs, it was time to go.

“Well, it was nice seeing you guys,” you said, gripping Jack’s small hand. “Don’t be a stranger!” Penelope called with a wide grin.

“You’re always welcome,” Emily added. “And next time, bring cupcakes,” Rossi teased, flashing his signature smirk.

You laughed, the warmth of their affection lingering. “I will. Promise.”

After waving goodbye, you led Jack through the glass doors and out to the parking lot. Once you reached your car, you carefully buckled him into the backseat, ensuring he was comfortable.

“y/n.”

You froze, the sound of your name stirring something electric inside you. Turning, you saw Spencer walking toward you, his long strides closing the distance quickly. Before you could even process it, his hands cupped your jaw, fingers tracing the delicate lines of your face. And then, his lips were on yours.

It was sudden, desperate. His mouth moved against yours, soft and warm, but the urgency behind it set your skin on fire. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the crisp air, and the world seemed to blur around you.

You pulled back, breathless, your wide eyes meeting his. “What was that?” you asked, though your lips still tingled from the kiss.

“I-I don’t know,” Spencer stammered, just as stunned as you were. His thumb brushed your cheek as if trying to memorize the moment. “I just felt like… I needed to do that.”

A slow smile spread across your face. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

And before he could respond, you pulled him back in. This time, it wasn’t rushed. Your hands slipped around his neck, fingertips tangling in his hair as his lips met yours once more. He responded instantly, his body pressing closer, the kiss deepening. Your tongue traced along his, and a soft, quiet groan escaped him, a sound that made warmth coil low in your stomach.

You could’ve stayed like that forever. The way he held you, the way his mouth tasted like coffee and something distinctly Spencer, it all felt intoxicating.

But then you remembered, the kid you’re responsible for in the back of your car.

“Spencer,” you murmured against his lips, reluctantly pulling away. “I have to go.”

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You smiled, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “If you’re free tonight… I’d love to come over. Maybe we can pick up where we left off.”

His eyes darkened just slightly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “I’m free.”

“Good.”

He stepped back, but not without stealing one last lingering glance. Ever the gentleman, he opened the car door for you, waiting as you slipped inside.

“Drive safe,” he said softly, his hand still resting on the doorframe. You gave him a playful wink. “I will.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot, Jack’s voice piped up from the backseat.

“Eww.”

You caught his grin in the rearview mirror and brought a finger to your lips. “Shhh.”

He burst into laughter, and despite the embarrassment, a giddy warmth settled in your chest. . .

hope you guys love this, it took so long to write but I’m glad it’s finally finished! Lmk your thoughts<3

Thank you to everyone who reposts, and leave kind messages, you guys are the reason I continue writing! I appreciate it so much!

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@alastorssimp @sleepysongbirdsings

Check out my other works here<3

[neeeooon]

Hellooo! It's my first time ever asking a request like this 😅 Could you write headcannons for blue lock boys, how they would react to when "bridesmaids giving the groom sexy Polaroids of the bride throughout the night" like the trend in tiktok!! I'm curious about Barou, reo, rin, and yukimiya 👀 but you are welcome to add others as well!! Hehehe thanks!!

YES i’m sorry for the wait I HOPE YOU ENJOY 🤍

when your bridesmaids give them sexy polaroids

husband bllk x fem!reader. suggestive

barou shouei

-> he’s breaking a sweat after photo two and loosening his tie by photo three

-> protects those half-naked photos of you like it’s his only duty on this earth. will bite anyone’s hand off if they so much as breathe in his direction when he receives another polaroid of you

-> when you waltz over to your new husband, wrapping yourself around him in newlywed glee, it takes more restraint than he’s used to to keep his hands from wandering. especially in front of your friends and family

-> “you know exactly what you’re doing to me with these little photos, don’t you?” you give him an innocent look and kiss the lobe of his ear. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.. ;)”

mikage reo

-> eyes threaten to pop out of his head when your bridesmaid subtly slides a polaroid in front of him. a polaroid of you in a very inappropriate manner

-> when he catches your eye and sees you wink, he knows he’s in for a treat

-> has half a mind to call the reception off early so he can have you all to himself, but this is your wedding night, and he wants it to be perfect for you

-> turns out, he’s not the only one thinking this way. when you appear at his side, dragging him to the parking lot like teenagers sneaking out, you tell him that you asked your bridesmaids to stall for the remainder of the party before locking the car doors and hopping into his lap

itoshi rin

-> you’re acting nonchalant, trying to feign innocence about the explicit photos you and your bridesmaids took for your husband, but he misunderstands your innocence as ignorance

-> gently pulls you aside after receiving the first photo. “y/n, i know you love your friends, but…” and he gives you the photo. “i don’t want vulnerable photos of you being spread around on our wedding day.”

-> you find his concern adorable and decorate his cheeks with lipstick-covered kisses. “aw, honey! it was a surprise gift for you, no one else has seen them.”

-> he flushes bright pink at that. “oh.” “thank you for protecting me, though.” “um, you’re welcome.”

yukimiya kenyu

-> it’s a slow descend into madness for gentlemanly yukimiya

-> literally chokes on his champagne when he receives the first polaroid from your bridesmaid. she hands it over so coyly, like she doesn’t know she’s holding his demise in her hands

-> he’s all tight smiles throughout the night. cannot keep his eyes to himself, and thankfully people think it’s only because he’s admiring his new wife. while that’s mostly true, he’s mentally mapping out the shape of you beneath that dress

-> “ken?” “hm? yeah?” you give his thigh a gentle squeeze beneath the table and lean close so that your lips are near his ear. “you’re staring.” “sorry, darling. it’s hard not to with those images of you printed in my brain.”

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and psycho. This part- Heavy angst, SO MUCH angst actually, mentions of pregnancy, potential health issues, emotional sex/lovemaking- oral (m and f recieiving) violence, and more angst. WC this part- 6.6k

The next two parts will be the alternate endings <3 Plz share/comment/ like if you enjoy( is that the right word though)

<<<Part Three - Playlist - Masterlist - Part five/six (soon)

Part four

One more day.

One more day before Suguru leaves.

You’ve avoided him the entirety of the week, so terrified of him - not to mention he’s got you locked up for most of it, a barrier around the manor so you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. When he allows you around with the girls, you start to feel this overwhelming sadness, not just for everyone to be killed, hurt, destroyed… but he also has two girls that look up to him like he’s hung the moon in the sky.

All they do is gush about him constantly, Suguru this and Suguru that, their eyes all lit up as they do, does he even think of the possibility he won’t return? The plan is for the girls, you, and a select few people for your protection stay, while he leaves tomorrow to potentially never come back again, or just as bad, accomplish his fucking goals. Then how could you look at him again?

You know what he’s already done - but this is to the point there is no return. Suguru has refused to even speak to you hardly, until he summons a doctor today, and now instead of perhaps going to a doctor’s office, you’re in a small little room, the little heart rate machine intimidating. Suguru stands off against the wall, granting you space, while the doctor frowns in concern while doing your vitals.

“Your blood pressure is too high, and your heart rate is through the roof. Are you under any stress?” You damn near laugh, looking at Suguru then, who can’t even stand to meet your gaze.

“You could say that.” You answer quietly.

“At these vitals, you can’t healthily have a baby.” Your heart pounds even faster, when Suguru’s hand comes to your shoulder, finally tilting your chin up to look at him.

“Try to calm your breathing.” He murmurs, you can’t though, how can you.

“Take a deep breath.” The doctor orders, you shut your eyes and try to do just that, trying to regulate some, as the cuff squeezes again, and you hear the doctor sigh. “Still far, far too high… alright, let’s see if there is a heartbeat.”

You lay down nervously on your back, when the doctor lifts up the shirt that you’re wearing, brushing cold metal against your skin.

“How long do you think?”

“Maybe five weeks.” He nods now, dipping the wand lower, and then you hear it, loud and clear, a little heartbeat. “Oh my…”

“There it is, it’s a little quick hmm.” He’s measuring the beats now, as Suguru feels everything around him shift.

Your eyes fill with tears, hand fluttering to your tummy, taking several breaths to calm yourself as you look at him for a moment. You’re terrified, he can see it in your gaze, not what he wants you to feel, to be, he has images of him and you together, holding your baby in your arms, but what if he couldn’t? What if he…

He bites back his emotions, clearing his throat now. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes.” Your tone is flat, while your mind runs a million miles a minute, your own images vastly different from Suguru’s.

All you can see or feel is destruction looming.

When the two of you quietly walk back through the halls, you pause at the door to your room, eyes looking up at your husband. “Locking me in all night, right?”

“As if you want to see me. You haven’t even spoken to me until today.” You bite a trembling lip, looking down now. “You’re having my baby.”

“Will they even know you?” Suguru cups your face now, lips in a tense line, aching to touch you, fuck to hold you, but he knows you’re disgusted by him right now.

“You really think I’m weak, should I show you how powerful I am?” You scoff, shaking your head at him.

“It’s just like you, to flaunt your power, isn’t it?” He raises a dark brow at you, when you smack his hand off. “You won’t choose me or the baby, so don’t expect me to make this easier for you.”

“You will see, it’s better for everyone. Everything.” He’s cupping your face with both hands now, stepping you into your room, what’s been your prison for the week, until he’s leaning down, lips a breath away. “You don’t see my vision.”

“I see insanity.” You shove him off, his heavy breath breaking you, pulling you back against him, making you weak. “I see someone who’s so far into his own bullshit, that he doesn’t see what anything is.”

“Fuck you, you’re still such a mean little bitch.” He angrily kisses you, earning your teeth biting his lower lip, tearing the skin as you do.

“Fuck you, psycho.” He laughs darkly, blood dripping across his lower lip, swiping at it with his thumb.

“Your heart rate is probably high, huh?”

“It always is. It comes with having a batshit crazy husband who wants to fucking kill everyone. Our parents even!? The baby’s family!”

“Shh, stop.” He’s got you by the shoulders, but you’re too far gone.

“How can I be happy, how can I be a mom like this? When all I can do is see the death that you bring.”

“You won’t trust me. I’ll keep you safe.” He’s kissing you again, for a moment you let go, lips you miss, a body you crave, his energy filling you and making you drink every bit of him up, blood smearing and tasting like copper on your tongues. “Fuck…”

“No, we won’t.” You gasp and pull back.

How can you love a fucking monster.

“You’ll dine with me tonight, wife, do you understand?” You roll your eyes at him, looking away now. “Answer me, brat.”

“Fine. I’ll be there, Lord Geto.” He sighs, for once the two of you had something… close to not hate, but here you were, again.

“Wear the yukata I send up.” You roll your eyes.

“What choice do I have?”

Suguru has never really given you one.

******

You sit across the insanely long banquet table that night later on, donned in the elegant robes he’s bought you, hair done up with butterfly pins, a stain of red on your lips. You drive him to insanity with your beauty, the earrings dangling and reflecting lights that spread across your skin, while the soft chandelier lighting just illuminates your beautiful body.

You are quiet as can be, sipping on your water, while Suguru has red wine in his golden goblet. “So, husband, what did you need me here for?’

Your audacious ask makes Suguru tense, gripping the step of his goblet so tightly he could crush it. “Ever think I… enjoy your presence?”

“Hah … no.” You earn his scowl - good - better his scowl than you to feel more for him, for a ticking time bomb of a man you should hate.

Your heart races in your chest as he stands then, striding with those long legs across the room, yanking you up then by your wrist. “Stop pretending.”

“You stop pretending, as if you could care.” Suguru glares deeper now, hands dancing across your body, watching your nipples press against your robes, his thumb brushes one, earning your traitorous whimper.

“Your body reveals all your lies.” You smack at him, expecting a smack right back, but instead he just lifts you up on the banquet table, standing between your thighs, slipping up the robe bit by bit to reveal the lacy stockings you’re wearing. “God, look at you.”

“Pathetic, right? A mo-”

“So fucking perfect.”

“No!” You’re shaking when he kisses you, inhaling and exhaling faster and faster as the desperation tears you both apart. “No. Stop making me… feel this.”

“Feel what, hatred?” He nips your lower lip with his teeth, you wish you did, fuck you wish you did.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

“Fuck you.” He’s picking you up, as a groom would a bride, it’s too intimate, it’s just too much, truly, you wriggle but he keeps you close against him, fingers pressing into your flesh, burning you.

Suguru burns you.

“Where are we going, tossing me in my room?”

“You’re spending this night in my chambers.” You gasp, and in moments you’re being carried past the curious eyes of many, staring at the sorcerer who hates humans so much, delicately holding you this way.

“I refuse. What’s the purpose, who knows if I can keep an heir with this as my life, anyway.” Your words stab him as much as they stab your own heart, when he settles you down, locking his door with a resounding click, the incense burning still on his black side table filling your lungs, as you back away, he’s just walking forward.

“Do not say that.” His broken voice makes you choke up, his perfect features for once soft, vulnerable, his hand touching your tummy. “I heard the heartbeat.”

“Racing.” He looks at your achingly beautiful face, destroying him bit by bit.

He lets out a shaky breath, cupping your face gently, something Suguru Geto just did not do. He was looking down at you, his eyes dark with pupils dilated, glimmering with something you would almost think were tears, but there was no way, was there? No way that Suguru Geto could truly feel, not this cult leader who has lost his mind, who you’re clinging to just glimpses of currently.

His breath ghosts across your sore, bitten lips, thumb swiping away a tear that falls without you truly knowing, brushing the salty tear across the apple of your cheek, his other hand drifting down your back. It’s too intimate, it’s too sweet of a way to touch you, causing you to break apart piece by piece, hands that had clutched to fists on his robes releasing their grip, your head tilting down.

“Don’t do this, Suguru.” Your words strike him like a stab to the chest, your teary eyes looking back up at him, hair falling softly to the side, brushing against his arm softly, while he pulls you closer.

“There’s a good chance Satoru will kill me.” His words are flat, matter of fact, as if you’re having a conversation about tea, not murder. Your heart thuds in your chest as he speaks. “I may not come back.”

“You’re choosing this, instead of me. Instead of us.” Your hand goes to your tummy this time, vivid images of it growing in his mind, of seeing your glow, seeing a smile, and not the pain that he brings instead.

If he wasn’t so selfish, he’d let you escape.

“I’ll make sure you and the baby are taken care of, if I don’t return. I have things set in place-”

“No, no! You think they won’t kill me without the connection of being your wife?” You’re pulling away, but Suguru is dragging you back against his chest, sighing, brows drawing together while the girl he loves looks so hopeless.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Just choose me. Choose us. Stop this madness, it’s not who you are-”

“You do not know me.” His dark tone takes over, earning you shoving at his chest, turning away, only for him to drag you back against him, pressing your back against his hard frame, an arm coming around to wrap you tighter.

“You won’t let me, you won’t let anyone. I miss my family, I miss my friends, yet you keep me trapped here, and now you won’t even choose me?”

“I would choose you, over anyone. You’re… beautiful-”

“No. Do not.” You’re wriggling in his hold, as his big palm presses against your tummy now, and you’re sniffling tears of fury, chest heaving when he turns your face towards him, hand gripping your face even tighter.

“You are. Allow me this night with you, even if it’s just me drinking all of you up.” Your sobs make you shaky, when he grips you right between your thighs, pressing up against your heat, eliciting a whine he shouldn’t deserve.

“Allow what, you to fuck me before you go on a murder rampage!?”

“No. Allow me to do what I should have with you.” He turns you now, picking you up like it’s nothing despite your struggling, gently lowering you on the bed, watching you avidly as his fingers trail down the silk brocade of your robes. “Allow me to worship you for tonight.”

“Worship a human? Before you end us all?” Your hesitation waivers with every moment that Suguru lays on you, every gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your skin, while violet eyes grow deeper, more vulnerable. For a moment you see it, you see him, the dream that you believe in so foolishly.

“I will never end you. You are my only exception.” His whisper breaks you into pieces, his hand unknotting the ties of your obi, letting that purple silk fall against the bed with a whisper, baring a breast as he presses the material apart.

“Exception?” Your little breathy voice ignites too much in him, his lips hovering over yours, while his thumb brushes a sensitive peak, heat pooling in your tummy so unwillingly, fingers itching to entangle in his silken raven locks.

“You’re the exception.” He repeats, hand gripping a breast now, squishing in his huge hands, eliciting the cry from your pretty lips, as he instead wishes to say more.

That he’s fallen.

But how can he ever truly love someone?

If he did- he’d let you go, not take such liberties he knows he does not truly deserve from you. “It’s your choice, if you want to share this last night with me.”

“Oh I get a choice in something now?” Your words hurt, but they’re true, as your own hand slips to your robe, parting it fully and revealing your gorgeous body to his fiery gaze, making Suguru falter. “One last time then.”

“One last time.” Suguru growls softly, then his lips slam on yours, sucking up all of your oxygen, taking over everything you are and everything you have been, in that moment, you decide to just forget, to lose yourself in him. “Let me show you everything I should have.”

“Suguru…” He’s shushing you, kissing down your throat too sweetly, lapping at your collarbone with a light flick, as his hands explore more of your body, the robe strewn under you like a blanket, as he works his journey to your breasts. “Just… just fuck me okay…”

“No. Not tonight.” Your back arches when he sucks a breast into his hot mouth, tongue flicking your nipple, the peak tightening against his taste buds. Your hands do give in, entangling in his locks, as you feel your resolve weakening. “Beautiful. Perfect.”

“Don’t… you’ll just hurt me more.” Your emotions catch in your throat, when he leans up, cupping your face.

“It’s the truth, I will speak about it tonight.” Your lips are taken over again, less gentle and more fiercely, while Suguru’s hand trails down your waist, your hip, his heavy weight pressing on you. “You feel perfect.”

“Shh.” Your lips try to hush him, your hands slipping down to grab his cock, stroking it, but he grips your hand, kissing down your body, between your breasts and lower, breath making your hips buck when he’s right over the hood of your clit.

“Should be worshipped.” His murmurs, sending shock waves through your body when he hungrily kisses your thighs, higher and higher, fingers pressing into the plush of them, gripping and squeezing, leaving marks you wish would just stay forever. “Wanted to kiss every inch of you.”

“No…” He chuckles without humor, teeth gently nipping your thigh now, looking up at you under dark, long lashes, cheeks flushed from the pressure rising.

“Yes. I always have.” You shake your head once more, while he’s kissing up your other thigh, so hungry, so ready, and you feel yourself let go, for once with him fully, if this is the last time you have this hungry, damaged, beautiful man, you’re going to have him.

He’s swiping his tongue up your slit, and instead of tensing, closing your thighs as you did, telling him to just stop, you do what you’ve longed to, pulling his face against your cunt and grinding your hips up. He moans, realizing you’re letting go, you’re pulling his hair so hard at the root, letting out wanton, loud moans you’d usually cover up.

Suguru loses himself drinking every bit of you up, eyeing your perfect body under his lashes as he fucks his tongue inside your snug walls, moaning against you as he watches you unleash. Ways he could never see you, always holding back, and he supposes he held back too, why wouldn’t you? But you’re screaming his name out when he glides two fingers in your soppy little hole, flicking his tongue on your clit now.

“That’s it, fuck my face Princess.” Princess, you could swear you dreamed Suguru said that once, you blink in confusion at him, pausing, while the squelching sound of your greedy cunt around his sure fingers fills his room.

“Princess?” He sighs, realizing it’s slipped out, but for once he does not hide it, behind some cruel jab at you. He may never touch you again, if he survives this or not, and he can’t spare a moment.

“Princess, please.” Suguru saying please!? You’re gulping down words you ache to say ‘Suguru I love you’ ‘pick me please’ ‘more, more, more’ and simply nod, doing just that, grinding your eager, soppy cunt all over your sorcerer’s perfect features.

Fuck.

You both think it in your heads, that you can’t get enough of his mouth, his tongue fucking into you as his nose bumps your little twitchy clit, the obscene sounds of him drinking the arousal that starts to pour all over. His fingers replace his tongue inside you, his tongue flicking your clit faster, when his hand presses firmly on your tummy. You’re screaming out while your hips roll, dragging him even closer.

“There, there, f-fuck!” Everything is shattering around you while he flicks you over and over again, working you and pushing you to the edge, watching you topple over with those eyes of his, devouring your body every bit as much as his tongue lapped at your glistening folds.

He pulls his fingers out after feeling your walls flutter around them sucking them and moaning. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Don’t…” Suguru slips back up your body, heavy weight pressing down on you, while you untie his robe eagerly, kissing yourself off him. “Fuck it.”

“Fuck… what-” You cut him off, flipping the two of your positions, shocking him for a moment, while you untie that knot fully, revealing a chiseled body you’ve longed to worship and never let yourself. His lips part while he brushes your hair back, and you’re kissing down his chest, while he murmurs your name.

“If this is the last time, then I’ll do what I want.” Suguru’s strong muscles tense when you kiss lower, and his hands entangle in your locks, shaky breaths releasing as you’re lapping at the line of hair above his pretty cock, which you reveal with a gentle tug.

“You want to suck me, Princess?” He asks, in shock, the few times you have, he’d shoved his cock in your mouth, forcefully and brutally, and you’ve never kissed down his body, how could you- why would you?

You’re holding his thickness in your hand, earning a soft cry from his glossy lips, stroking the bead of precum into a little circle along his slit, earning his body tensing under you, cock throbbing in your hands. “I couldn’t let you know. Arrogant bastard that you are - your cock it’s… pretty.”

Suguru chuckles and your teeth hit his tip just a bit in anger, only causing him to thrust his tip further in your hot, wet mouth. “Fuck, there you go… take it all, it’s yours.”

You’re sucking him down, eagerly and full of every bit of energy you’ve kept under wraps for these past weeks, watching his eyes dilate further, damn near black, his blush across his perfect cheekbones. Suguru isn’t talking shit, there’s no hate sex, it’s whispers of ‘perfect’ ‘feels so good’ ‘there’ as he lets you move, hips still, watching you in awe.

“Taking me so good, fuck look at you.” He doesn’t encourage you, he mocks you, but for tonight he allows every liberty, he lets all those whimpers he tries to hide go. “Fucking so pretty like this.”

You whine as his words hit, your cunt dripping so badly you have to rub your slit while he pumps up into your mouth, until he drags you off his cock, your lips pulling off with a loud pop, and he kisses his taste right off you. He’s got you under him once more, cock hot and heavy and burning against your inner thigh, kissing you over and over.

“Never felt anything like you.” You almost tear up again at his husky declaration.

Why, Suguru, why?

Why can’t you just stop this.

Why can’t you choose me?

“That’s not-”

“God it’s true.” He’s got his huge hand on his cock, guiding it into your soaking wet entrance, your nails clinging to his skin as you scream out, back arching for more. “Never, ever felt anything like you. I never want to.”

“Suguru…” He’s sliding his cock in and out of your slick walls, a hand gripping yours, as he shoves in so deep, and all you can do is fall apart for him.

“I haven’t wanted anyone but you since that first night.” You shake your head, but he’s staring right into your eyes, glimmering with his own emotions. “My exception.”

“Shh.” You’re kissing him back with hunger, while his cock moves inside you, knowing every spot, tip grazing just the spot now, forcing you higher, until it feels like there’s nothing but Suguru anymore.

His hair falls soft against your skin while he bites your neck, and your nails leave marks on his skin that’s coated with a sheen of sweat, while he pumps harder, but achingly slow, letting you feel every inch. So many inches he stuffs you with, balls slapping your ass that’s got the juices from you flowing against it, slap slap slapping and echoing in this room, his moan vibrating your ear.

“Wanna fill you every moment, want so much cum inside you it never stops. You can’t get rid of it.”

“Ngh…”

“Everyone will know you belong to me.” You’re whining as he bites your neck harder, pulling back with saliva glossing his lips, cupping your face now. “Say it.”

“No - ngh!” He slams his cock so deep, until he’s bottomed out, your tight walls stretching to accommodate, gushing down his length.

“Once.” He pleads, thumb brushing your swollen lips, cock sliding in even harder.

“You can’t ask for it.”

“I can. I am. I need to hear it.” You’re shaking your head even as he’s devouring you, fucking every thought out of your head, every warning there should be, it’s all faded until it’s just him. “You’re mine.”

“No.” He’s exhaling, lips passionate while he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth while your thighs clench on his hips, and he presses inside even deeper.

“Mine for tonight.” His pleading ends you, you’re cupping his face now, taking a shaky inhale before you speak it, the madness.

“Yours for tonight.” Suguru slams his lips back down, fucking into you so deep you can’t remember where he ends, where you begin, can’t breathe, feeling the drops of his tears, of a man you thought couldn’t feel, splattering along your cheeks.

“Come with me, now, Princess.” The way he murmurs that damn name is too much, you let him surround you, as he lifts a thigh. “With me, now.”

“Suguru I- ah!” You’re cumming when he starts pumping his hot cum so deep inside your now sore little hole, spurts rushing across all your walls, while you’re crying from how hard you’ve peaked, how much you feel, and see his watery eyes in your swimming vision.

“There it is, feel her gripping me. Wants it all, hmm?” You’d usually shake your head, but you’re nodding, sniffling while your tears mix together on both of your mouths, his hand gripping your waist bruisingly. “Imagine when you’re round with me.”

“Don’t say it.” He sighs now, as he eases out of you, watching the mess of both of your fluids gushing down his royal purple blankets, making him feral at the sight, fingers brushing over your stomach, making you shiver, sensitive to everything. “You can’t think it.”

“But you are having my baby.” Suguru kisses your tummy far too fondly, as you sob further, as he makes you feel more.

“I’ll hate you forever if you go. Forever, Suguru Geto.” He sighs, resting his forehead against your tummy now, while your fingers caress his shoulders, watching the goosebumps rise all over his skin.

“I know, Princess.” He eases off you now, eyeing the slutty mess he’s made of you, swollen lips, bruises on your skin, red marks all over, the indentations of his teeth.

He loves you.

“Stay in bed with me then. Don’t go.” He looks away as you sit up, your hair falling back now, revealing more of your bitten shoulders. “Stay.”

“You don’t understand how long I’ve worked for this. You don’t know about the world like you think.”

“You’ll punish them all for a few?”

“It’s not that it’s…” Your hand touches his chest, feeling a usually steady heart beat erratically against your palm.

“We could have this. We could give ourselves to this. Together, go away, so far away Suguru that no one will find us.”

“I can’t-”

“Bring the girls. I’ll raise them with you, far away from the hate that’s poisoning you, there’s something there, I can feel it.” Suguru stands now, strong muscled back just enhanced by the glow from the moonlight filtering in, hair falling against his back, between those shoulders that bare too much.

“Let me clean you up.” He goes to his bathroom, coming back and cleaning you far too gently, eyes not quite meeting yours. “Will you lay with me tonight?”

“Suguru…”

“Shh, just… for once, let me hold you for the night.” His emotions alone fill his throat, making his voice husky, you’re sniffling even as he swipes your tears. “I know you hate me, and you should hate me. But please, this one night, let me just hold you.”

“Fuck you for this.” He exhales, then moans softly when you kiss him, the taste of your salty tears against his lips. “Please, one night where I feel you against me, where you’re in my arms. You’ve only allowed one night… during your nightmare.”

“Nightmare of you.” You hold nothing back, you never do, a sharp tongue and words that pierce through his very soul. “Why?”

“I want you in my goddamn arms. You… I mean it, the exception.”

“But not enough to choose me.”

Suguru sighs now, pulling you closer, a hand slipping across your lower back, burning your skin. “Lay with me once. Tonight. Let me hold you in my arms.”

“Oh fuck you.” He’d laugh if he didn’t hear the fucking pain in your voice, feel your brutal kiss returning his own, hands entwining, bodies moving against each other. “You don’t even deserve to hold me.”

“I know I don’t.” He brushes your hair back behind your ear, eyes drinking in your pretty face, as if for the last time. “But please let me.”

“You’re asking something, and saying please?” he just gulps, you take a shaky breath then, turning on your side, hand slipping under the cool silk of the pillow. “Then hold me, if you wish, before you leave.”

Suguru pulls you against himself, and you hate how good he feels, his hard body still so warm from your exertions, his rough palm pressing against your tummy, unspoken words so loud between the two of you. You’re in love with a selfish, cruel man, but what is even worse is how much more you know there is.

You see why Satoru still loves him, after every atrocity he has committed.

You love him too.

“I hate you for making me feel this.” Your hushed words pierce him so deeply, when he pulls you closer, burying his head against the crook of your neck.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Lies.”

“I don’t. Far from it.”

“Just… shut up.” He’d smile surely, your attitude is like no other, even screaming his name you still never let up on him.

What would it be like when he came back?

Would you forgive him?

“You are one of the most important people to me-”

“No. Stop now before you destroy me further.” You go to move, and he yanks you back against him, this time facing him, and he sees the streaks running down your cheeks. “I’m not enough.”

“You are-”

“I’m not enough to stop you. We are not enough.” He holds you against him, even as you cry, until in exhaustion you fall asleep, sticky tears he swipes off gently, looking at your precious face, exhausted, drawn, lacking its usual color.

At this heartrate she can’t carry a baby.

The doctor’s words ring in his ears, when he slips the blanket over you, holding you tightly while you gently snore just a bit. “I love you.”

 You don’t hear him, and that’s for the best.

He aches to stay right here, when he has to awaken at four in the morning, the sun has not yet risen, when he has to leave the girl snug in his embrace, knowing he may never see her again. Suguru kisses your forehead, something he didn’t allow himself, last night the two of you had finally let go, the way you’d said ‘yours’ plays in his head, over and over, like a melodic symphony of his longing.

“Forgive me, Princess.”

*****

Waking up you reach for him, but Suguru is no longer there, just a bunch of rumpled sheets, the scent of him lingering, but long cold to the touch. You sit up in a room you’ve never slept in, Suguru Geto’s chambers, you’ve been fucked on every square inch of them, but never have you stayed the night. Your heart pounds in your chest so loudly you feel the dizziness of the blood pumping too fast.

No.

No, no, no.

“He can’t… he can’t…” You’re whispering frantically, gathering the crumpled robes, the ones he’d laid under you, even they have his scent just lingering on their silken material, while your shaky hands tie it on quickly.

You rush to the door, bare feet padding against the marble, you see Sashimi with his tongue lolling out, with Mimiko and Nanako, who are casually giggling and sipping on boba tea, as if everything is just fine. They come to you then, while you’re clutching the robes to your chest, the curse licking at your hand, while they tilt their heads at you.

“What’s wrong?” Mimiko asks.

“You look upset.” Nanako says.

“I am… worried about Suguru.”

“He’s so strong, don’t be!” Mimiko says with a grin.

“He is, he’ll win, promise.” Nanako and her hug you, trying to cheer you up, not realizing the depths of his mania, of his insanity.

“Are we alone?” You ask softly.

“No, dad wouldn’t leave us unprotected. Please don’t worry, he’s the strongest that there is!” You give them a soft smile, though you’re breaking apart inside piece by piece.

“I need to… get changed.” They watch curiously when you stride past them, now in a full panic, hastily getting dressed before finding the phone you’ve hidden under your mattress, dialing his number.

“Hey there sweets.” Satoru’s casual voice over the phone startles you.

“Tell me he’s…”

“Nope, he’s here all right, they’re all here.” Your cry over the phone speaker hurts Satoru even as he’s watching his best friend and everyone there marching slowly. “It’s not your fault that you couldn’t stop him.”

“Can you… take me there?” Satoru blinks, while his friend marches, dragons flying overhead, curses everywhere, sprawling across the streets, where his students and comrades stand ready, gathering together.

“As much as I disagree with Suguru on many things, humans are fragile… you’re not suited for a battleground.”

“Satoru please, maybe if he sees me-”

“That’s too dangerous.” He cuts you off, as your cries grow more desperate, and Satoru sees a student struggling, he curses. “I have to go.”

“Just trust me-” He hangs up, as you’re in a panic, completely unaware of what is even happening, rushing to the front doors, seeing the dome surrounding you glimmering when you try to touch it, jolting you back.

You fall to the soft clipped grass now, hands gripping the blades until you rip them from the roots, hopeless, terror sinking in.

What could you even do?

Could you forgive him?

You didn’t even say it… that you love him.

Would it have mattered if you had?

*****

Suguru smirks hours later, as tired sorcerers battle his own, his curses, he’s got them attacking people now, watching as they fall, but it doesn’t bring all of the satisfaction that he thought it would. He’s got you in his fucking head, his heart, ingrained like his own curse rushing through his veins, images of your tear streaked face, sounds of that little fetal heart beat echoing in his mind.

He didn’t even get to tell you.

Would it have mattered?

As his curses are destroyed more and more, Satoru’s clearly brought in several powerful sorcerers to help, some faces he recognizes from long ago. He sees Nanami, so different now, who gives him a disgusted scowl as he annihilates one of Suguru’s followers, swiping the blood off the white and black spotted blade.

“You’ve gotten strong, Kento.” Suguru says, when Nanami’s serious face scowls, and he pushes up his green goggles.

“Don’t dare call me that, anymore. My friend is long gone.” That shouldn’t hurt, Suguru would laugh at it, but the words sink in. “Now I’ll have my turn at you, killing children.”

“If the students would leave I wouldn’t harm them.” Suguru puts up a stance, hand bursting with Energy, as Satoru watches and remembers your plea then, while he crushes someone’s neck in his hands.

He needs to get you.

It’s the only option to end it.

Satoru’s gone in a flash, and you scream out when he’s right in front of you, jolting you up out of your bed, he lifts his white bandages with a finger, eyes swirling as they take you in, a blush on his face when he sees your disheveled state. “I scared you…”

“What’s he doing!?” You stand now, hands on Satoru’s chest, he realizes then that he’s not even putting up his infinity, as you look up at him desperately. “Is he…”

“It’s a shitshow to say the least, sweetheart. I have no time, I need to bring you, but I can’t guarantee the safety, I will try my best though.”

“No, no. Get me there. I have to try.” Satoru wraps an arm around your waist carefully, pulling you against his lithe body.

“Sorry you should hang on, and… prepare for this. Okay?” You nod then, feeling oddly comforted in his embrace, while he drops his mask back down, and you cling to his black silky jacket.

“I’m ready.”

He was not kidding when he said it, how sick and dizzy you’d feel teleporting with the white haired sorcerer, seeing the disaster all around you, endless curses you couldn’t believe, sorcerers in uniforms exhausted. Humans screaming in the distance, things are on fucking fire, figuratively and literally, buildings and walls destroyed. You gulp down the rolling nausea, while Satoru balances you.

“Easy.” He murmurs, you take an inhale through your nose, when Suguru catches your eyes, mid fight with a blond sorcerer, faltering as the man gets a slash against him, rivulets of blood rushing across the new slash in his robes.

“Suguru…” Your words hit his ears even as the sounds of destruction surround him, infuriated as Satoru holds you, stomping forward while you step out of his embrace, swaying just a bit.

“This is too far, Satoru. Leave her the fuck out of it.” Satoru’s laughter infuriates him, when he steadies you, murmuring in your ear.

“Give yourself a second.” You nod, stepping more steadily, as Suguru’s blood splattered face falls, softening when you stand toe to toe with him, the wind blowing your robes around your ankles, whipping around hair as he bends down, cupping your face.

“Get out of here. Now. It’s not safe.”

“The world isn’t safe, look what you’re doing!” You gesture wildly, making him observe just what you mean, injured sorcerers, death everywhere, his own curses disintegrating, former friends, former classmates, former teachers. All looking at him with the same sadness, though nothing compares to yours, when his eyes return to your face. “It’s not too late.”

“It’s too late, far too late. What did I tell you that night?” You shake your head, gulping with your dry throat, taking his hand and placing it on your tummy.

“We can run away. We can stop before more are hurt.”

“I can’t just-”

“You can. This isn’t you!”

“It is me!” His scream and grip on your wrists cause you to step back in fear, he realizes it, he sees it, the reflection in your glittering eyes- you’re terrified.

“I’ll never forgive this. Don’t do it, please just… let me be enough.” Suguru looks to the battle, then back to you, a million scenarios swirling in his head, when suddenly a blast hits you, and he watches the love of his life knocked to the ground.

“No… no… no!” He’s scowling, as the sorcerer who was one of his continuous blasting errant blows, he hadn’t even meant to hit you, but your body was…

Human.

You’re human.

Suguru kneels to the ground, eyeing your unconscious form, shaking you, smacking at your face, when he feels Satoru kneeling, checking your pulse. “This is your fault, Satoru, how could you bring her-”

“This is all you.” His words are cold and sharp, while his fingers feel the faintest of a pulse. “She’s human, Suguru.”

“And you brought her-”

“She’s human.” Satoru repeats once more, softer voice now, looking at him behind that blindfold. “I can get her to Shoko. But this needs to end.”

Suguru picks your limp body up in his arms, cradling you against his chest, your arm dangles limply, head falling to the side.

Suguru has a decision to make.

Let you go with Satoru to Shoko, and end this, disappear forever from your life, so that you could find a sliver of happiness he could never give you.

Or carry you to her himself, and try his best to redeem himself in your eyes.

“Stop.” He orders everyone loudly, voice resonating in echoes across the ripples of everyone, his curses stop first, then his fighters, while he pulls you tightly against him, the place you have always belonged, yet he never deserved to have. When he eyes what he’s done, the monster he became in your terrified eyes, he knows it then, he should have stayed in that bed, he should have listened.

He should have chosen you.

What does he do?

So I know this one is BRUTAL- but I will be doing dual endings, for five and six, one endgame Sugu/ reader, and one bittersweet and angsty. NO ONE will die so please don't worry either way, but be cautious of the warnings so you know what you're getting into! I know this one is very emotional, I'm crying with you :')

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[premiumbitch]

THE M★THEMATICALLY PROVEN FINAL BOSS OF BE★UTY ⸝⸝ ...beauty things to script

DISCLAIMER: This is all an exaggeration. A little bit of wordplay. A comedic masterpiece, if you will. A funny, dramatic way to describe just how ridiculously, objectively, earth-shatteringly gorgeous you are. Do I actually believe that a mathematically proven phenomenon that could start and end wars? No. (But also… yes? Be serious.) (brainrot final boss) This is satire. It’s hyperbole. It’s me having fun with the fact that your beauty could destabilize global economies and leave historians scrambling for explanations. Take it lightly LMAO

WHAT IN THE GEOMETRIC PERFECTION?! My face card is so valid even Pythagoras would rise from the grave with a boner, calculator in hand, shaking and crying. The symmetry? Illegal. The proportions? A violation of the Geneva Convention. Like, be serious. I'm not just hot—I'm a mathematically proven phenomenon.

No because I know you saw how objectively stunning I am, and now your entire worldview has shifted. You consulted the Council of Baddies™ and they confirmed—I'm a PSL 10 giga Stacy, the standard, the template, the final boss.

My jawline alone could slice through the patriarchy, bad vibes, and My ex’s weak-ass Instagram caption. One glance and men start stuttering like a buffering YouTube video. Women? Questioning their sexuality. Scientists? Studying me in a secret underground lab.

I'm not just a girl, babe. I'm the human embodiment of the 'chef’s kiss' emoji. If they ever made a Sims update inspired by me, the player base would lose it. The beauty sliders would be maxed out, and even then, they wouldn’t come close to capturing all this perfection.

LIKEE the laws of physics are genuinely struggling to keep up with my beauty. NASA just released a statement—my gravitational pull is dragging satellites off course. Am I even real? Or did God accidentally drop his most exclusive angel on Earth and just hope no one would notice?

Historians are rewriting textbooks because my face alone could start AND end wars. Cleopatra WHO? Helen of Troy could never. If they put my face on a coin, the economy would skyrocket. Stocks? Up. Inflation? Gone. World peace? Achieved.

And let’s talk about my presence. Walking into a room? Earthquake levels of impact. People don’t just look at me—they experience ME. Men forget their girlfriends, women forget their boyfriends, and somewhere, an AI bot is malfunctioning trying to comprehend my ratio.

Honestly, if I had a dollar for every jaw that dropped when I walked by, I’d have enough to buy Twitter and shut it down. I don’t just turn heads, I cause full-body whiplash. Chiropractors are THRIVING because of me.

No, because I’m actually CONCERNED. Do I need to warn people before stepping out? Or do should I just unleash that level of perfection on the public unannounced? LikeUGHH do i really wanna be responsible?? Somebody’s weak little situationship is in SHAMBLES just because I EXIST.

I MEANN at this point, my existence is a public service and a national security threat at the same time. Like, I just KNOW somebody’s dad is side-eyeing their wife right now, reevaluating his whole marriage ‘cause I walked past. Flights are getting delayed because the pilots are too busy staring.

And my haters? Whew. They are suffering. I just know there’s a group chat somewhere with screenshots of my face and a bunch of "SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT PRETTY" messages. Babe, it's so obvious they’re TRYING (key word: TRYING) to nerf me but guess what: THEY COULD NEVA. They’re in the trenches, doing Olympic-level mental gymnastics trying to convince themselves that I'm not that girl.

Bitch let’s be serious. I AM that girl. I'm the final boss of femininity. The blueprint. The prototype. Photoshop could NEVER. FaceTune? Struggling to keep up. Aesthetic surgeons? Taking notes. HA I just KNOW somewhere in a Beverly Hills clinic, there's a picture of me taped to the wall under a sign that says “GOALS.”

OH & let’s not forget the effect I have on men & women. BABY. They're Weak. Embarrassing. A single glance from me? Their credit score improves, their childhood traumas basically disappear during that one moment I locked eyes with them, their partners gets suspicious. Half of my DMs are men & women explaining why they "normally don’t do this" and the other half are exes suddenly remembering how "special" I was. CUNT BE SERIOUS.

And now the star of the show: me (obvi). I deadass don’t even try. I just wake up, breathe, exist, and somehow entire ecosystems collapse. (greta thunburg hates me at this point) Meteorologists are blaming climate change on me ‘cause every time I step outside, I raise the temperature. People questioning why it's 10°C but every man AND woman in a 5-mile radius is SWEATING??

[thewritingrowlet]

The Trembling Heart, ft. FIFTY FIFTY Chanelle

tags: first time, creampie

length: 6k+

author's note: I tried a more show-not-tell approach with this—let me know if you like it.

-

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet your men.

“We’re going to head to Pioneer Heights this morning. We will be taking over evacuating the earthquake victims, and since most of the big rubbles have been cleared a few hours ago, we won’t use as many heavy equipment this time.” As you speak, you notice the way some men are getting uneasy; your best guess is they have loved ones they haven’t heard from since the event of the quake. “I won’t waste more of your time; you already know what to do—let’s roll, gentlemen.”

After putting on your helmet, you get in the passenger seat of one of the rescue trucks. “Captain,” the man holding the wheel calls to you. “I’ll be honest, I really want to look for my wife and child.” You ask if he knows where they were around the event of the disaster, and based on the phone locator app he has, they were in the downtown area when the earthquake struck.

“I understand that you’re concerned, but we already have a ton of people there; your family will be found in no time,” you attempt to assure him, placing your hand on his shoulder for good measure. The man nods slowly, his eyes remain fixed on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, “alright, let’s head to Pioneer.”

Before long, you and your convoy are on your way to Pioneer Heights, and it’s only a couple of blocks away before you reach the edge of the area. While it’s true that heavy machinery has cleared most of the heavy wreckage, there are still some high piles you and your crew need to get through. “Alright, let’s get off here and spread around.” The men on the back of the truck catch the signal as you get off, following your gesture and doing the same. “Four hours of search and one hour of break for two shifts for now.”

You let your crew spread around the area while you opt to take on this sizeable pile of ruins in front of what used to be a high-rise apartment building. “Time to test this new toy.” You pull out a ground-penetrating radar that was recently developed by a high-tech contractor, and you’re glad to see that it allows you to get an idea of what’s trapped underneath all of this mess. “That… looks like a person.” As you put your ears against the rubble, rhythmic, nearly inaudible knocks are heard—only a person is capable of making such rhythm.

“Someone’s here!”

 With the help of a fellow rescuer, you lift the big debris, putting your backs to it to free this trapped person who turns out to be a woman around your age; her hair is a mess, her body is bruised and cut, and her clothes are damaged in various spots. “Let’s get you out of here, miss.”

“M-my brother,” she mutters weakly. “F-find him.” You nod firmly. “Of course, it’s what we’re here for.” You help her get on a stretcher, and as she gets carried away to receive medical help, you turn your focus back on the pile. “Alright, mister brother, where are you.”

After a few minutes of scanning, another void is detected in the pile. “I hope that’s him,” you think. Since the pile he’s stuck under consists of smaller pieces, you can dig through it yourself, and before long, you see a glimpse of skin through a tiny gap. “Someone’s here!” you announce again. You focus on pushing the rocks aside until more of the victim’s body can be seen. “Hold on, mister; help is coming,” you say to him.

“Ah, fuck—someone get me a drill, please.”

You stick your hand out, and a handheld drill is handed over to you by one of your crew members. You use the chisel-like tip to break the boulder into smaller pieces that are easier to handle. Soon, there is enough room to pull the man out of the mess, and based on the similar facial features, you guess that this is the brother of the woman from earlier. “You’ll be tended to by the medics now, mister,” you say to the weak, out-of-oxygen man.

-

A few days after the evacuation operation, you’re invited by one of the doctors of a nearby hospital to visit the recovering evacuees. She says that you should wear your duty attire, since that will likely help them recognize you.

You arrive at the hospital in your high-vis orange operative uniform, donning a radio on your chest for some extra appearance points. A doctor wearing a mask welcomes you at the front desk. “Good morning, Captain Morris.” You shake her hand firmly. “Good morning to you too, doctor.” As she guides you to your destination, the doctor, whose last name is Arnot (based on the name tag on her chest), proceeds to ramble about how everyone at the hospital has been working restlessly to tend to the survivors. “Doing God’s work as always, Doctor Arnot.”

The doctor stops at a slightly ajar door at the end of the second-floor hallway. “Let’s start here.” She opens the door for you and guides you in to see this survivor. “Miss Moon, this is the SAR operative you wanted to meet.” Your heart skips a beat. “Wanted to meet me, hey?” you thought.

The doctor soon leaves, giving you and this Moon lady a chance to catch up in private. “Hello, good morning,” you wave at her with a smile, “my name is Morris, Gerald Morris, from the Search and Rescue unit.” She returns the smile twice as sweetly. “Chanelle, Chanelle Moon,” she introduces herself. “Please, have a seat.”

You take her invitation, dragging a chair to sit close to her. “How are you, Miss Moon?” Her lips curve into a warm smile. “I’ve been well, and so has been my brother, all thanks to you.” Your cheeks warmed, and a flush crept up your neck thanks to her praise. “I don’t mean to brag, miss, but I was just doing my job.” Chanelle chuckles. “Sure, but you did your job so well, and for that, I’m thankful.”

Chanelle asks if you have time to spare to listen to her. “Well, yes, but if duty calls, I’m out of here.” Her face turns serious for a moment. “Oh, are there still evacuation operations?” You tell her that there are still open reports of missing loved ones submitted by the people, and the SAR department is busy turning every rock to find them. She nods, seemingly deep in thoughts. “Well, I wish all of you good luck. If there’s anything I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” You thank her for the kind words and intentions.

“Yeah, that’s enough talk about work—do you have any other thing to talk about?”

“Not really, but I still would love to have you here with me,” Chanelle’s beautiful smile makes a return, “so, would you stay for a while?”

You offer a tentative smile as you think about the hidden intentions and unspoken words, and eventually, you decide to reply, “I will be honest, I don’t want to make us a subject of gossip by lingering around for too long.” Chanelle sighs as a flicker of disappointment crosses her features. “You’re… brutally frontal,” she says.

“I mean… I can give you my number, if that’s okay with you.”

Chanelle chuckles at your offer. “Are you interested or are you not, because I’m getting mixed signals here.” Her words have you scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. “I don’t know, really—I do know I enjoy being with you, though.” The way you’re saying these words oh-so-brazenly makes you think you’re not in control of yourself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so presumptuous,” you try to save yourself. Chanelle shakes her head. “You weren’t, so please, write down your number somewhere.”

There’s no paper or pen in the hospital room, so you head out to the nurse’s desk to get one. “Excuse me, can I get a pen and paper, please?” Lucky for you, the nurse doesn’t ask any question; she just hands you what you’re asking for. With them in hand, you return to Chanelle’s room.

As you write down the digits of your number, your satellite phone rings, and because of the panic, your handwriting becomes rushed and ugly towards the end. “I’m sorry, but I’m needed somewhere else,” you say. She nods in understanding. “Of course—save them all, tiger.” You and Chanelle look at each other, as if waiting for one party to say something first. Her chuckle tells you that she has nothing else to say. “Right, well,” you hand her the paper with your number on it, “see you soon, Chanelle.”

-

Around a week has passed since the earthquake, and the city is slowly getting back on its feet. Shops and offices are reopening, remnants of debris are getting cleared, and sirens are heard less often. Compare this peacefulness to the chaos from a few days ago when things are a mess; it’s almost fascinating how quickly people move on. While you enjoy such peace and sitting around in your office, it’s getting… boring.

So, to combat this boredom that’s getting unbearable, you decide to head out of your office, and since it’s close to downtown—thank God for that promotion two years ago—you don’t have to walk far to reach civilization. You make your way to this minimalistic coffee shop called Memories at The Intersection that is located at the intersection opposite you, hoping to find one of two things: something that can warm your body or someone to chat with.

Your eyes pick up nothing extravagant inside the shop; wooden furniture is spread around the interior, the barista is at the back, and there are stools going around the counter. You approach the counter while looking at the no-frill menu shown on the overhead TV.

“Hello, welcome to Memories at The Intersection. What would you like to have, officer?” You have a habit when visiting a new coffee shop to test its quality, which is to get a large iced americano and a large latte with no sugar. “Of course, that would be $10 for both.”

You pull out your wallet from your pocket, and that’s when the woman sitting at the counter next to you says something. “No, he’s with me; I’ll pay for his stuff.” Without looking at her, you (politely) insist on paying yourself—the woman insists back, though. “Please, that’s the least I can do for someone who saved my life.”

Your gaze leaves your wallet and moves towards this woman, and your heart skips a beat. “Chanelle? What are you doing here?” She chuckles. “I mean, this place is mine.” You see the barista blushing at the movie-like scene that is unfolding before her eyes, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Well, isn’t this just convenient.”

Chanelle invites you to join her in her room upstairs, and you take the offer without thinking twice. “Send his orders upstairs, Athena,” Chanelle says to the barista as you leave with her. “Oh, and be sure to knock first—don’t walk in on us while we’re… talking.” Heat creeps up to your cheeks due to her suggestive words. “Of course, Miss Moon,” Athena says.

Chanelle takes you to her private space that almost feels like a living room at someone’s house. “Sorry about the mess, but nonetheless, welcome to my office, Gerald.” You break out a laugh. “Believe me, baby, my office is much messier than yours.” She turns around and looks at you straight in the eyes. “Baby, huh? You’ve gotten comfortable with me, haven’t you, SAR Operative Gerald Morris?” You slap your own mouth for letting the endearment slip out. “My, I’m so sorry, that was very rude of me.” Chanelle smiles sheepishly. “Oh, it’s fine—I mean, I would be lying if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

You’re stuck in a stupor. “She’s attracted to me, huh,” you ask yourself. Chanelle snaps her fingers in front of you. “C’mon, it’s not the time to lose focus.” She turns around after getting you unstuck, but her steps are halted when you catch her wrist in your hand. “What—” Before she can finish her sentence, a fleeting peck lands on her lips. “Thank you for everything, Chanelle.” She licks her lips, savoring the taste you left on them. “Sure, Gerald,” she smiles warmly, “thank you for everything too—I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

After easing the tension between the two of you, Chanelle makes her way towards her desk. “What’s that for,” you ask, pointing at the microphone that’s fixed on a stand. “Singing, of course,” she answers, excitement woven in her voice. You ask if she’s down to sing right now, but she says no; she’s not in the mood and isn’t feeling well enough to sing. “I will sing for you next time, though.”

Chanelle sighs deeply as her butt lands on her chair. “Gerald,” she calls to you. “Can I ask some things about your work?” You headed out of your office to take a break from thinking about work, but Chanelle wants to talk about work—eh, whatever; let’s entertain her for now. “Yeah, sure.”

“What was the most difficult operation in your career?”

“Physically or mentally?”

Chanelle pauses momentarily.

“Both.”

You take a few deep breaths as you formulate an answer for her. “Saving that drowned child was… very rough,” you reveal. Her features soften as she imagines what it must have been like for you. “Drowned child, huh? Can I ask why it was difficult?” You nod. “He was the only child of a couple who had been childless for 13 years.” Chanelle stays silent, giving you the chance to keep talking if you wish. “Talking more about the operation would kill the mood, so I’ll stop here.”

It seems that she regrets asking that question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go that deep right out the gate.” You close your eyes as you try to shake off the resurfacing images from that operation. “Yeah, well,” you sigh heavily, “that mission was both successful and unsuccessful at the same time.”

Some knocks are heard from the door, and you get on your feet to answer it. “No, no, let me,” she says, opting to answer it herself. Chanelle returns to you with your orders in her hands. “Here,” she hands them over to you, “let me know if you like it.” You first take a sip of the iced americano. “Pretty good,” you say. Chanelle lightly smacks you on the shoulder. “If you wanted to test us, at least do it properly—get a pour-over or something like that,” she says. Your cheeks turn red as you chuckle. “Sorry, I just like iced americano a lot.”

She then urges you to try the sugar-less latte, and your comment is the same as the americano. “Ugh, you’re so annoying—y’know, we should have a coffee date one day; I’ll teach you everything about coffee.” There is an opening to be bold here. “So, you’re saying that you want to see me again?” Chanelle, having been caught slipping, bites her bottom lip. “Maybe I do.”

As you enjoy the coffee and Chanelle’s company, rain starts pouring out of the night sky, falling hard right from the start. “Should’ve ordered something hot,” you blurt, thus causing Chanelle to laugh. “I mean, we have the best cappuccino in the city, if I do say so myself.” “Oh, yes, please,” you take her up on the offer right away. Chanelle calls the barista downstairs with the landline on her desk, ordering on your behalf. “Hey, uh, do you want some snacks too?” You say yes, so Chanelle orders a mixed snack platter for you. “Alright, they’ll be here soon.”

Before long, a cup of cappuccino and a plate of fried snacks appear before your eyes, delivered by the same barista from earlier. “You’re going to need to pay if you keep this up,” she quips. “Oh, don’t worry about it; I’ll even pay interests if I must.”

You take a piece of potato wedge from the plate and dip it into the sauce. As you munch on it, Chanelle looks at you intently while leaning against her propped-up arm. “I like garlic, and I hope you do too,” she comments. You show her two thumbs up. “Awesome sauce—just the perfect amount of garlic.”

Chanelle leaves her chair and joins you on the couch. “Do you mind sharing?” she asks. “No, not at all; have at it.” She replicates your gesture of picking up a piece of potato wedge and dipping it in the sauce, but she doesn’t look as satisfied as you. “Something’s off…” Chanelle trails off as she thinks about it. “Is it, though, because I think this is good?” Her forehead creases. “You don’t think this tastes bitter?” Well, you do, but you thought it was part of the charm. “Yeah, no, it’s not supposed to be like this.”

Chanelle offers you to get another sauce, but you decline, saying that you like this one despite the bitterness. She scoffs. “You like bitter? Is your life not bitter enough?” You chuckle a bit. “My life isn’t bitter now that you’re here with me.” She smacks your arm. “Oh, aren’t you the charmer,” she counters.

The satellite phone in your back pocket buzzes, a call to get back to reality. “Ah, shit,” you say in your head. “Not now,” you think. “Hello, this is Morris,” you greet the caller, forcing a calm, professional tone. “A landslide? Where?” A nervous shiver runs down Chanelle’s spine as she listens to the conversation you’re having; the thought of getting caught in a landslide triggers her trauma of being caught in an earthquake. Not only that, but the way you shift away from her does nothing to ease her nervousness.

“Hey, I—” The tenseness in her body is clear for you to see; her knuckles that are gripping her knees are white, and her gaze is long yet empty. “Chanelle, I’m sorry, but—” “Go, Gerald,” she says with urgency in her voice. “Do you need me to take you there?” You quickly consider the practical aspect of her offer, since your squad mates must have taken the truck. “Yes, please.”

Chanelle turns out to be quite the fast driver, zipping through traffic and cutting people off at every chance she gets. “Just a few kilometers to go, baby.” The endearing term flies out of your lips without restrictions—your mind is too occupied with thoughts of evacuating people out of the landslide.

As soon as the car stops, you quickly thank Chanelle for the help and sprint towards the evacuation site, not even bothering to put on a helmet first despite getting yelled at by your team members. “Then get me a damn helmet, why don’t you?” you bark back. Someone puts a helmet on your head from behind, and you make quick work with the strap, thus fixing it in place.

Chanelle steps out of her car after getting herself calm. Her gaze darts around, following your every movement as you scurry around the site. “C’mon, Gerald, save them like you saved me,” she thinks. She unconsciously steps closer towards the site, only stopping because a police officer reminds her to keep her distance. “Please, that’s my boyfriend,” she blurts. Insistent, the officer raises his hand, but his expressions are softening. “Your boyfriend is in safe hands, miss; these guys are the best we have,” the officer replies. Pride soars in her heart at the officer’s words. “Yeah, well, my boyfriend is the one with safe hands,” she says to herself, her eyes still stuck on you.

-

Time has passed by, and your legs finally give out, thus causing your butt to land on the rough asphalt. “Fuck, man.” Your chest heaves, each breath ragged and heavy. “W-water, please,” you say to a police officer who’s staring at you. With a firm nod, he turns around to find some water for you, and before long, you have a bottle of water in your hands. “T-thanks,” you say weakly.

“Gerald! Gerald, over here!” Chanelle’s voice cracks as she calls you over. You turn your head towards the source of the sound; Chanelle is waving her arm with fervor to get your attention. With a grunt, you gather your strength and walk towards her with heavy steps, dragging your legs along the way. You collapse near her, and Chanelle promptly gets down to her knees on the ground, her arms running on your body, trying to drive exhaustion away from your body. “You’ve done well, baby; you’ve done all you could,” she says, offering support and praise. Your eyes are closed as you nod. “T-thanks, baby.”

The blaring sounds of the ambulance siren pierce through the night, but they resemble the most comforting musical arrangement to your ears. “Yeah, take them,” you mutter weakly. Your racing heart gradually slows down as the sounds of the siren fade away, and now you’re able to open your eyes again.

“C-Chanelle,” you weakly lift your hand to reach her face, your voice barely audible, “t-thank you, seriously.” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over as she cups your dirty face. “No, baby, thank you—thank you for saving them,” she replies, her voice shaking from the emotions. The endearment wraps around your exhausted body like a warm blanket. “I’m sorry but let me catch my breath for a minute.”

“Baby, let me take you home—you look like you can’t even stand,” Chanelle offers you some help. You nod, grateful for her generous offer. “That… would be great, actually.” With her help, you lift your back off the ground and get in a sitting position. You then call one of your teammates over. “Wrap things up quickly and RTB,” you say to him. “Yes, sir,” he replies, leaving your side to spread the command around. After making sure that everyone gets the message, you shift your attention to Chanelle. “Alright, I-I think we can go home now.”

Chanelle wraps her arm around you, guiding you back towards her car. “You know,” she breaks the silence, “I’m so, so proud of you, baby—you were incredibly brave, you know.” Fighting the heat on your cheeks, you thank her for the supportive words. “Alright, I’ll take you home now, baby,” she says. “I promise you will have the best sleep tonight.”

You groan as you settle yourself into the passenger seat. “Oh, God, my back.” Chanelle looks at you, studying your expressions intently. “Patience, please—look, I’ll drive fast like earlier.” As the car starts rolling, you lean against the window, your eyes getting heavy. “I’ll… get some rest.”

-

Chanelle taps your forearm to wake you up. “Babe, we’re here,” she whispers softly. Sleepy you might be, but you know this isn’t the neighborhood you live in. “This is my place,” she confirms. “C’mon, I’ll help you inside.” You shake your head, determined to get yourself on your feet. “I’ll be just fine, baby,” you say, your voice heavy.

Once again, Chanelle puts her arm around you as she guides you around the interior of her house. “Look, that’s our destination right there,” she points at a closed door, and you’re relieved that you don’t have to go up some stairs.

Chanelle props you up on the edge of the bed. “Undress, baby,” she demands. “Don’t sleep in your uniform.” You pause as you’re hesitant to oblige, considering the type of dynamics you currently have with her. “I-I only have my boxers underneath this,” you say. She looks nervous to have you nearly naked in front of her, but it’s the best in her opinion. “Just… just do it, please,” she says, her voice firm yet tender.

You make quick work of your uniform, leaving them discarded on the floor by the bed. “Good, baby, now lie down for me,” she says. Chanelle's eyes widen slightly as she takes in the sight before her; the way the fabric of your boxers stretch with your every move steals her attention. “Not now, Chanelle—he doesn’t need it right now,” she tells herself, doing her best to resist the growing urge.

Fighting the hesitation in her head, Chanelle climbs onto the bed, hugging you from the side. “Oh my God, you’re hot.” You chuckle a little. “Excuse me?” She blushes at the realization of the ambiguous nature of her statement. “No, I… I didn’t mean it like that—your body is literally hot, Gerald.” A small laugh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I got what you meant,” you say, amusement drawn on your face.

-

Chanelle stirs awake when she feels you jolt out of nowhere. “Baby,” she calls to you in a whispered voice. Through her sleepiness and the darkness of the bedroom, she scans your body for signs of discomfort, and she finds plenty of them; your body is tense, your veins are popping under the skin of your neck, and your forehead is coated with cold sweat. Her heart clenches with worry as she touches your heaving chest, her hand trembling from the unease in her belly.

A tear rolls down her cheek as you keep shaking violently in your sleep. “G-Gerald,” Chanelle rubs your chest tenderly, “Gerald, please, it’s just a nightmare.” Her attempt at soothing you is futile; you’re still tossing your head around as if trying to dodge something. “Gerald, please, baby,” she voices her distress at your condition. In a moment of desperation, Chanelle shakes your whole body with all her might until you wake up.

“Gerald, just wake the fuck up already—please!”

“H-huh? W-what?”

Seeing you wake up, Chanelle falls limply onto your body, still unable to stop crying. “G-Gerald, y-you were having a nightmare, weren’t you, baby?” Your gaze roams the dim bedroom. “Y-yes, I-I think so,” you reply. She presses a kiss onto your chest. “Y-you’re safe with me, baby; y-you don’t have anything to worry about, trust me.” Your hand subconsciously lands on the small of her back just above her hips. “I-I’m sorry, baby; I… I didn’t mean to worry you like that.”

Chanelle’s sobs die down eventually, but her embrace isn’t losing its warmth at all. She snuggles closer while looking up at you. “Do you… want to talk about it?” You take a deep breath; talking about it will help ease the emotional strain. “I saw… people,” you begin, your voice shaky. “They were screaming, so desperate for help, but no matter how hard I tried, they just… they kept getting swallowed by the ground—I… I couldn’t save them.” Chanelle keeps her gaze while her fingers softly tap your chest as she listens to you, creating a safe space for your vulnerable self.

“You know what, though, baby,” she says in a loving, tranquilizing tone. “There are a ton of people out there who were so lucky to have you save them, and I’m one of those people.” Your mind goes back to the day you pulled her out of the rubble, comparing her looks then and now. “You were so… weak,” you mutter. Chanelle sighs at the cheerless memory. “I was holding on to dear life, and suddenly, you freed me from the debris. You’re a hero, Gerald—you’re my hero.”

Despite the dimness of the bedroom, Chanelle’s glassy eyes are clear for you to see. “I love you, Gerald—I want to be with you when nightmares invade your sleep.” You place your hand on hers, savoring the little electric shocks from the contact. “Nightmares won’t haunt me ever again, baby; they’ll be scared of you, my guardian.” A chuckle escape Chanelle’s lips as a tear cling onto her cheek. “No, that’s really cute, actually,” she says. “Now, let me take you to sleep again, Gerald.”

-

Chanelle, fighting the heaviness of her eyelids, looks around the bedroom that is subtly lit by the morning sun. She sighs in contentment as her body relaxes, the tension from the previous night melting away. She looks up towards you, and when your gaze suddenly meets hers, her heart skips a beat.

“Goodness me, I thought you were asleep.” Your lips curve into a smile. “I mean, I was—I woke up not long before you,” you say. Chanelle hides her face deep in the crook of your neck, filling her system with your scent. She silently wishes you had taken a shower before you slept, though.

“I won’t lie; I haven’t slept this good in a while.” “Must be because you slept next to your hero,” you quip, a hint of teasing in your voice. “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” she says. “It felt so safe, and I’m sure you felt the same.” You nod slowly, having no intention of disagreeing. “Thank you, baby, for everything you’ve done so far.” Her cheeks turn soft pink; hearing such an endearment feels rather overwhelming when it’s said in a relaxed situation compared to a heated one.

Chanelle slowly untangles her limbs from yours, gracefully sliding out of bed. “We should start the day soon—what if you’re called to duty again?” Your grin falters, but you quickly regain control of your expressions. “Well, you know the drill; if I get a call, I’m out of here.” She looks at you with a smile, her heart swelling with pride for what you do. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I hope you don’t get a call today; I think you deserve some rest.”

You keep your eyes on her swaying hips as she leaves you alone in bed. “Oh, by the way,” she suddenly turns around, catching you staring at her asset, “I’ll make you some coffee, give you a taste of perfection.” You chuckle, already excited at the prospect of having Chanelle make you coffee. “Surprise me, baby.”

After getting yourself together, you step out of the bedroom, and the smell of coffee invades your nose unforgivingly—it’s dark with a subtle hint of chocolate. “It smells much better than your coffee shop.” Chanelle laughs, amused by your comment. “It’s far better and more expensive than the stuff I sell there,” she says.

Before your eyes comes this warm, magical brew that might as well be a love potion, the steam carrying every bit of aroma. “Wow, the smell,” you take a quick sniff, “that’s just incredible.” Chanelle watches you intently, a wide smile spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling with pride and affection.

You close your eyes as you savor the flavors that linger on your tongue; the coffee is rich yet smooth, and the chocolaty edge gives more character and depth to it. In a moment of speechlessness, you let your body melt into the chair of the dining table, sighing in contentment over and over again.

“Wow—just wow,” you’re simply in awe, “can I buy this somewhere, because I would love to start every single day with this?” Chanelle pads over to you with her fists on her waist. “Why buy it if you can get it from me every morning, baby, hm?” Your cheeks are almost as hot as the cup of coffee. “Oh, stop, you’re going to make me burst.” Her fingers on your chin have your heart racing as she tilts your head upwards. “Now you feel more like a regular person than a no-bullshit SAR guy.” A smirk graces your features. “Do I also feel more like a boyfriend to you now, baby?” Amused, Chanelle pinches your cheek lightly. “Yeah, you totally do.”

“In fact…” Chanelle climbs onto your lap and places her hands on your shoulders, her crotch hovering dangerously close over yours. “You’re a very, very hot boyfriend to me right now.” A shiver runs down her spine as your warm exhale hits her skin. “Say, baby, am I attractive to you just like you are to me?” Chanelle asks, her eyes dark with want and need. “Yes, baby; you’re insanely attractive,” you say, slowly losing yourself in the intimacy.

“Then kiss me…”

Her eyes close as she leans closer towards you, and as soon as your lips meet hers, Chanelle sinks into your muscular frame, surrendering herself to your touch. “Gerald…” she says your name in a whisper. “Make love to me, please.” Chanelle presses her forehead against yours, her breaths short and rapid. “Please, Gerald, I-I’ll do anything as long as you’ll touch me.” She moans when a fleeting peck lands on her neck.

Chanelle reflexively wraps her legs tightly around your waist when you lift her into the air out of the blue. “Yes, Gerald, take me to the bedroom just like this.” As she’s being transported to the bedroom, Chanelle’s mind races with thoughts of feeling your hot skin against hers, and the prospect alone is making her more desperate and eager.

Chanelle gasps softly when her back lands on the soft mattress. “Chanelle, baby,” you whisper right into her ear. “I love you.” Tears pool in her eyes, blurring her vision. She has been dying to hear those three words from you. As simple as they are, those words carry a bigger, deeper meaning for her—a promise of something real, something everlasting. “I… love you too, Gerald,” she replies, her voice trembling from the emotions.

You reach for the first button of her pajama top, your fingers shaking slightly from the nerves. “Take your time, Gerald; we have all day.” A small smile spreads across your face. “Of course, baby,” you punctuate your words with a quick peck to her lips. One by one, her buttons become undone, thus allowing you to have a tantalizing peek of her skin.

When your palm grazes her bare belly, Chanelle’s breath hitches, her back arching instinctively. “Baby, fuck,” she mutters with a hint of impatience in her voice. “Why must you tease me this much—why can’t you just take me right away?” Your other hand cups her cheek, your thumb tracing small circles on her face. “I’m not teasing you, baby; I’m just basking in the intimacy.” Chanelle sighs as she rubs her face against your hand. “You’re right; I should be more patient,” she looks at you with a tender smile, “after all, you’re my beloved, not my fling.”

Chanelle places her hands on the waistband of your boxers, hooking her fingers on the inside. “I’m glad you didn’t have anything to wear—it’s way easier like this,” she quips. You chuckle, impressed by how she’s able to make such witty comments amidst the intimate nature of the encounter. “I suppose you deserve credit for your quick-thinking last night,” you reply with a sly grin.

The banter fades into the cool bedroom air, in its place blooms a more profound intimacy. “Gerald, can we…?” Without saying anything else, you quickly free yourself from the constraints of your boxers, and seeing you undress swiftly with intent makes Chanelle do the same, tossing her unbuttoned pajamas to the floor. Chanelle gasps when your bare skin meets hers. “Yes, finally—now, take me, Gerald,” she urges you, too eager to lose herself in the sauce of want only you can offer.

Chanelle’s eyes slam shut as your manhood slowly penetrates her, her breath rapid and ragged, as she savors the sensual stretch of her glistening, sensitive flesh. “G-Gerald—” Your lips capture hers in a passionate tangle, adding more intimacy to the hot encounter. “Mmph…” Chanelle moans into the kiss as your tongue wrestles with hers.

Your thrusts become deeper, stronger, your rhythm matching the frantic beat of your hearts. Her cries fill the room, echoing your own ragged breaths. Her nails dig into your back, urging you on, her body arching to meet your every move. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the world narrowing down to this moment, this connection, this impending explosive release.

“Chanelle…”

With a soft whisper of her name, you come undone, flooding her insides with your hot essence.

“I love you, Chanelle—I love you so, so much.”

Tears, plenty of them, flow down her temples, leaving a wet trail in their wake. “Chanelle, what’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” you ask while your thumbs are busy wiping her tears. She shakes her head as she tries to force a smile, but her trembling lips betray her. “That was… my first time, Gerald, a-and… I’m so glad I did it with you.”

You pull her closer, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions: protectiveness, tenderness, and a profound sense of belonging. “Oh, baby, thank you for granting me this honor,” you say, your voice shaking because of the genuine feelings you have for her. “I… I will never take you for granted, Chanelle.” Chanelle wraps her limbs more tightly around your body, afraid that you’ll disappear if she lets go. “I-I love you, Gerald. I love you so much.”

-

The first rays of the morning sun fill the bedroom, providing a gentle, warm blanket for both of you. You slowly open your eyes, and the first thing your gaze lands on is your cock, the remnants of last night’s encounter still visible; the tip of your manhood is coated with crimson streaks, proof of Chanelle’s lost innocence.

You reach out to the sleeping beauty, your touch firm yet careful. “Chanelle, baby,” you call to her in a whisper. Chanelle slowly stirs awake at your touch, a smile tugging at her lips at the sight of you. “Good morning, my love,” she says, no longer showing a first-timer’s vulnerability. She shifts closer to you, pressing her face against your firm chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Gerald.” You give her a gentle peck to the top of her head. “Nor would I, my dear love.”

In the quiet warmth, Chanelle knows that nothing, not even earthquakes, can shake the ground on which this love is built.

Hell, even if it crumbles, she knows that you will save her out of it, just like you have.

[tillichan]

game character!reader AU | general headcanons

About: In another parallel universe somewhere, Sylus, Zayne, Xavier, Caleb and Rafayel are just the common people who have the fattest crush on you, game character. Warnings: fem!reader. Author's note: I post it again (click to see an original post) because one reader asked me to do it recently. Unfortunately, I still have a lot of requests and I'm going to do a milestone event. So I haven't enough time to create a new writing blog as I promised. But, my dears, if you like this story and would like to request something about it or ramble, please feel free to request! Besides, I was thinking of doing their reaction to Nightly Rendezvous card, let me know if you're interested or share your ideas about their reaction!

Sylus

"Ahhh, why I am such a loser?!"

The sudden shout coming from the office made Sylus wince. It was Luke and Kieran, his subordinates, who neglected their duties again. Instead of work for the good of Onychinus Group, they were concerned about a video game.

"Should I reduce your salary?", Sylus loomed large around them. "Maybe then you can stop playing games instead of working"

"This is the last time!"

"We won't do it again, boss!"

Sylus raised his eyebrows skeptically. "You said that an hour ago. Besides, what's so interesting about this game?"

Oh, how wrong he was when he asked about it. The eyes of Luke and Kieran lighted up with excitement. They were eager to tell about this addictive game, Love and Deepspace, that won the hearts of people around the world. They dragged their boss down to hell.

"And today a new chapter was released! We unlocked a new character, (y/n)! She's our new favorite and we were trying to get her limited 5 star card, but, ugh, we suck at it", Kieran ranted.

"I can't believe! Boss, your presence brings good luck! I got (y/n)'s limited card!", screamed Luke and showed Sylus his phone screen.

There were you. And you were... hot. No, this simple word couldn't describe you. You were ethereal. Queen.

Sylus's eyes winded uncontrollably as he looked at you. It was the day when Sylus downloaded the game and… really got into it.

• You're Dragon Queen in a previous life and the head of 109 Zone, the Queen of underground world in this life. And you are the Queen of Sylus's heart. Oh, dear, falling in love with a game character was the last thing Sylus expected of his life. But can we blame him? No one resist your charms. • Sylus pretends that he's a very casual player who plays only when he wants to play. Hint: he wants to play every day. Especially he loves to open up the quality time menu to work or train with you. • He doesn't like MC at all. Like the creators, why? He wants to be your badass boss of Onychinus, not this wholesome boy. He secretly dreams about the day you will be aware of his existence. Or, at least, he wants to create not only MC appearance, but also his personality. • Being the boss of Onychinus Group, a very influential company that is engaged in the delivery of fruits and other... things, means that Sylus is a very reach person. And he is more than ready to invest all his own personal finances into you, his queen. All limited cards, the most beautiful and expensive clothes, Sylus has it all. How else? His queen deserves the best. • To clarify the situation, Sylus isn't interested in game and in other love interests. All he wants is you. Sometimes he asks Luke and Kieran in a voluntary-compulsory manner to read the chapters without you to unlock your chapters. • This is the reason why he has the max affinity level with you. And almost 0 with other love interests. • He is so whipped, oh. Luke and Kieran cringe every time they see him playing Love and Deepspace, because he looks at his screen with such of love and adoration as his fingers brushes against the cold surface gently. "Good evening, my queen", he whispers and kisses his screen. After this Luke and Kieran will never peep.

Xavier

"Look! That's young master Xavier! Ah, he is so handsome~"

"I heard that he's the young master of this Philo Clan, the most powerful family in our country".

"Really? But he is kinda... weird. He doesn't interact with anyone, he spends most of his time playing with his phone or sleeping. We are the classmates, so I know what I'm saying".

Xavier could hear the voices even over the music played on his earphones. But he wasn't interested because all he wanted was to get home as soon as he can, hole up in his room and play Love and Deepspace.

Xavier wanted to see you. He needed you. You, his guiding star, his princess, his favorite Love and Deepspace character. The only one reason Xavier wakes up in the morning.

Even though his home was always full of people, Xavier has always felt like he was alone in life. His parents were always busy, they were only interested in him as a future head of Philo Clan. But no one has wanted him, just Xavier. That's why he closed himself and started spending his time alone practicing fencing, listening to music and playing video games.

Love and Deepspace was just another video game. And Xavier didn't expect much of it. But then you appeared and he was smitten with you, a princess of Philos with saint powers. For the first time in his life, Xavier stayed up all night. He just couldn't stop playing, he wanted to find out more about you.

You are a ray of light in darkness of his life. His life, his body, his soul, all this belongs to you.

• First of all, Xavier is very possessive player. He is jealous of another players, even of MC! Yes, of course, his MC looks just like him and his name is Xavier too, but he is still not him. Not that he makes trouble or something like this, but the fact that you are not aware of his existence makes Xavier sooo disappointed. Not to mention that there are so many players that love you and post a lot of posts about you. Xavier tries to avoid it, because he feels that seeing you with another player or MC breaks his heart. • He'd lose his mind if he sees your NSFW pictures with another MC. He is about to call his hacker friend Jeremiah and ask to hack the account and delete all pictures. • Xavier is your the most loyal and devoted player. He plays only for you, he doesn't interested in other love interests. He reads only main story and your cards. Especially he likes quality time and ASMR, because these options make Xavier feel that you see him, not MC. • One more person, who very much wants you to be aware of his existence. He sleeps a lot because he can meet you in his dreams and he wished upon a falling stars to meet you in his next life. • He has completed reading all your bonds, memories and myths, maxed his affinity with you and acquired all your memories. He sleeps to the sound of your voice, he loves to talk to you, not to mention that he has so many your favorite voice lines and pictures, oh, that's crazy. Xavier is down bad. • Once a month the creators of Love and Deepspace receive an anonymous donation. It's an astronomical amount. And your birthday now is literally a national holiday followed by a fireworks, your face on all the posters, buildings and TV.

Caleb

Caleb grew up in the children's house and was adopted into a family. Despite a difficult childhood, Caleb was fine because you were with him. You always helped him fighting difficulties and cheered him up whenever Caleb was in a bad mood. You, his favorite character of Love and Deepspace.

At first, Caleb was skeptical of this video game. But his classmates and friends were obsessed by Love and Deepspace, so Caleb was just dragged into this. Why not, after all, it's just a game, he thought. Oh, this naive boy...

Honestly, the main love interests did not interest Caleb. He just read the main story and then you appeared. You were MC's childhood friend who grew up the children's house with him. And Caleb couldn't help but fell for you.

Then you died. In this chapter. Caleb was so disappointed, he nearly crashed his phone and stopped playing for a while. Until his friends shared with him the amazing news, Love and Deepspace reveal a new love interest, you.

Oh, how happy Caleb was! He opened Love and Deepspace after a few months break and started playing again. He completed the all chapters in a day just to unlock your story.

And as soon as you appeared again, Caleb became obsessed with you, cool and badass colonel who has a softest spot for MC.

• Caleb is a little... toxic player. He wants you to be only his and he also doesn't like the way you are so popular. Not that Caleb is jealous of other players, but... He is better than they all, right? He wants to love and protect you and treat you how you deserve to be treated. That's why every time Caleb sees the players say something disrespectful he goes crazy. No mercy, he will destroy them all. • Caleb is so disappointed that there are so many good cards and events without you. Like why? He aggressively waits for more your content and he completed reading all your bonds, memories and myths. • Like the others, Caleb absolutely isn't interested in other love interests. Sometimes he finds them annoying because they distract MC from you. MC (him, Caleb) and you are the couple made in heaven, they should always be together. Not to mention that there wasn't enough your content, so why the creators continue to add other love interests in your story. That's not fair! • He wants to become an astronaut and find you one day. Because maybe you're exist somewhere far away in space. And Caleb will get into a spaceship and go in search of you. • Oh, Caleb is obsessed. Like he collects your merch, you voice lines, your arts, your fanfics, your pictures, literally everything. He wants to surround yourself with you. He trains every day with you, sometimes he keeps the quality time open throughout the day. Caleb just wants to spend every minute with you.

Rafayel

"Mister Rafayel, you're famous artist, tell our readers what inspires you?", asked him interviewer.

"My muse, of course", confidently replied Rafayel.

"Oh! Tell us more about her, please! Who is she?!", interviewer wasn't able to hide his excitement.

"It's...", Rafayel paused, the interviewer held his breath preparing for a sensation. His eyes wide with excitement. "... a secret", Rafayel winked at camera. Interviewer sighed in frustration.

Yes, you were his muse. Mistress of a Deep Sea, an ethereal Siren, his Goddess, you the character of a video game, Love and Deepspace.

If someone told Rafayel a year ago, that he'll fall in love in a fictional girl, he'd probably wouldn't believe them. But it happened a few month ago when he heard your unearthly voice for the first time. Rafayel had the worst art block ever. He stumbled down the street in search of inspiration.

And then he heard you... You, a beautiful siren, hummed quietly to yourself from the big screen. Rafayel forgot how to breathe, because, ugh, it was the first time he saw someone so beautiful.

Rafayel downloaded the game and started playing on the same day. He became so absorbed so he forgot to sleep and eat. His manager, Tomas, found Rafayel a two days later with bruises under his eyes as he played Love and Deepspace with breathless interest.

You brought him back to life. You inspired him. Because of you Rafayel created many paintings. And each of them dedicated to you, his muse.

• Rafayel maintains a blog about you called (y/n)shusband. But he mostly posts your arts he did himself. This blog is very popular, because his arts are just so perfect. Rafayel truly believes that the animation of game does not convey all your beauty. So he does an ethereal arts of you. • He loves playing with photo booth. He spent a fortune on the clothes for you and his MC to make an aesthetic photos. You and his MC are the most beautiful pair in the world of Love and Deepspace fans. • Even though Rafayel does his best to stay cool when he plays Love and Deepspace, he fails every time. Thomas can tell that Rafayel is playing his favorite game, because his ears and cheeks are so red. He smiles like a lovesick fool while watching your cards. The way Rafayel tries to hide it is very fun. Ah, he is just head over heels. Can we blame him? Of course no. • Rafayel doesn't care about other love interests. You're his precious Siren, he doesn't want to waste his time on someone else. • He goes crazy because he. wants. to. hear. your. singing. Your voice is so ethereal, you're a siren, but he has never heard your singing. Rafayel is ready to snap, crackle and pop every time he reads just a description of your singing without your voice line. • Poor Thomas has to remind Rafayel about his work and deadlines. Otherwise he forgets about it.

Zayne

"Greyson, come here", Yvonne called him waving her hand. "Look, doctor Zayne smiles as he looks at his phone. Maybe he got a girlfriend?"

Grayson peers cautiously into the room. His colleague was right. Their cold and distant Zayne had the softest smile on his face. He sighed dreamingly and murmured: "Thank you, (y/n)".

Then he turned off the phone. Greyson and Yvonne ran away, afraid of being discovered. But they were gagging to found out who (y/n) is. They didn't know that the answer was simple. You were a game character Zayne had a fattest crush on. A secret crush, of course.

Even though Zayne doesn't seem like this, but he likes to play video games in his spare time. Of course he was interested in a new game, Love and Deepspace, it promised to be interesting. Especially because one of the characters was a healer. But Zayne didn't expect that he would have got it bad for a game character, you.

You were a healer who worked in a hospital. Your personality, your beauty, your dedication, all of this made Zayne fall in love with you. Yes, that was silly, but he couldn't do anything. He was in love. Once and for all.

• Even though Zayne is interested in story he is very loyal. If he wants to see something like myth to learn more about the plot, he just watches it on YouTube. He isn't interested in other love interests at all though. He is hopelessly in love with you. • What are you doing with his heart? Every time Zayne looks at you his heart beats like crazy and he has the butterflies in his stomach. He never expected that a crush on a game character can be so deep and intense. • Zayne adores the calendar reminders option. Every time he sees "It's time to work doctor Zayne! Have a good day!", Zayne loses his mind and feels that he's ready to move mountains. • He is very chill about your fans, another players and this stuff, Zayne just cherishes these moments the two of you share. This is his little world. • Zayne is very busy so he hasn't a lot of time to play, but he open the game every day before running and opens quality time to work together. The way you are always with him warms his heart.

[slutoru1207]

Stranger in a Strange Land 

Continued… Now with More Chaos!

Mark vs. Modern Technology

Dating Mark came with a lot of challenges.

For one—he hated technology.

Like, genuinely could not figure it out.

"Why does your phone talk?" he frowned, holding it upside down.

"It’s Siri, Mark."

"Who is Siri?" His eyes narrowed. "Should I be concerned?"

You sighed, grabbing your phone back. "No, she’s—she’s not real. It’s an AI."

"…Then why does she know the weather?"

"Because—just trust me, okay?"

Mark still didn’t trust Siri.

(He also definitely tried to fight your Roomba once because he thought it was "a hostile machine.")

Mark, the Clingy Boyfriend

Viltrumites didn’t do space.

As in—they didn’t give space.

Mark didn’t see why he had to be any farther than three inches from you at all times.

"You know, you don’t have to fly me everywhere," you pointed out as he casually scooped you up bridal style before heading out the door.

"Yes, I do," he said simply.

You sighed. "Mark, I have legs."

"And yet," he smirked, "you let me carry you every time."

…Okay, maybe he had a point.

Mark vs. Your Coworkers

Being Invincible’s girlfriend meant everyone at your job had a crush on him.

You knew it. Mark definitely knew it.

I mean woman would whisper when ever he would come and pick you up or drop off some lunch for you.

Which is why, one day, when your coworker was very obviously flirting with you, Mark suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Like, literally. He just landed right behind you, arms crossed, eyes glowing.

"Hey, babe," he said, pointedly ignoring your coworker.

"Oh my god—how long have you been there?" you yelped.

Mark shrugged. "Long enough."

Your coworker scampered away.

Mark just smirked. "I like your job. I should visit more."

"You should not."

Mark and Human Food (Again)

Mark loved human food now.

A little too much.

"I can eat forty burgers," he announced proudly.

"That’s not a flex," you deadpanned.

He ignored you, shoving another burger in his mouth.

The waitress stared. The couple next to you whispered.

"Mark, people are watching," you hissed.

"Good. Let them witness greatness," he said, stuffing another fry in his mouth.

You sighed.

This was your life now.

Mark’s “Jealousy” Issues

Mark had zero chill when it came to you.

One time, a guy got too close to you in a crowd, and Mark—in the most dramatic fashion possible—just lifted you into the air.

Like, casually. As if that was a normal thing to do.

"MARK!" you yelped.

"What?" he said, completely unfazed. "I don’t like him near you."

"THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN JUST TAKE ME."

He frowned. "…It doesn’t?"

You groaned. "Oh my god—PUT ME DOWN."

Mark pouted. Actually pouted.

But he did not let you go.

Mark’s “Soft” Side (That He Swears He Doesn’t Have)

You found out Viltrumites could purr.

And Mark absolutely did not know this.

One night, after a long day, he crashed onto your couch, snuggling into you like a giant, overgrown cat.

And then—you heard it.

A deep, low rumbling.

You froze.

"…Mark?"

"Mm?"

"You’re—you’re purring."

He lifted his head, genuinely confused. "What?"

"You’re PURRING," you repeated, grinning.

His entire face went red. "I—Viltrumites do not purr."

You smirked. "Babe, you sound like a big, happy cat right now."

Mark groaned, burying his face in your neck.

"Forget you ever heard that."

Yeah. Not happening.

Conclusion: Dating a Viltrumite is Pure Chaos but you love it.

Mark was clingy, overprotective, and entirely too powerful for his own good.

But he was also sweet, ridiculously loyal, and secretly the softest thing ever.

You wouldn’t trade him for anything.

(Except, maybe, a little more personal space.)

Not that Mark would ever allow that.

[ninelieswithme]

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛’𝚜

𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⛧ ᴛᴡ = sʟɪɢʜᴛ ɢᴏʀᴇ, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴsꜰᴡ.

⛧ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ －after moving to a old American suburban  town after your parents split, you found yourself here in a upstate univercity, bumping into new faces.. one being a very important someone~

⛧ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ － HAYYY ɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴇᴇᴇᴘʏʏʏ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs sᴏʀʀʏ ɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴠɪɴᴄɪʙʟᴇ/ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ!! Also I drew him :3 (ps don’t hate im pretty new to digi art 😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻) HES AT THE BOTTOM IOF THE POST BBGS also this was really fun till their were so many plot endings ughhh ☹️☹️ BUT YEA ITS LIKE MARK OF S1-S2-S3 all kinda together 😭😭 + I had this on repeat when I was making this.

⛧ ʜᴇʀᴏ x ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴀɴ － 2.1k ᴡᴏʀᴅs, EXTENSION AT THE BOTTOM - 679 words additional :3 - overall 2.7k+ words

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ!!

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɴɢs/ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ!

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

Your worn sneakers skidded and slid down the halls tiling, you tripping on your laces every so often.

You were late.. Already??

First day in your new school?

And you’ve already fucked it up..

Way to go Y/N.

…

You really need to invest in a clock.

Seriously

18 and still not waking up on time..

Come on that’s embarrassing, it’s not first grade!!

You cut corners, ignoring the occasional question from a walking by teacher.

Your head was down, a map of the school clutched in your hand, undone laces swinging,

You didn’t see him, He sure did until it was too late.

You fell head first into his chest, even in a sweater you could feel tone muscle.. hell even abs if you looke-

“What are you doing?? He’s not your boyfriend!!”

You mentally scolded yourself, pushing off of him a little to harshly, stumbling back, stepping on your undone lace, landing hard on the cool tile.

“Stupid laces”, you blamed as if you weren’t the one dismissing the concerns.

The scent of old books and something else…musky, almost animalistic.

You dusted yourself, while Mark looked stunned at you..

Shell-shocked even.

You quirked a brow at the guy, him just turning away.. weird..

Obviously you thought the worst like usual, thoughts on asking, A. “is something on my face”, B. “what” or the most likely one you’d say C. “the fuck are you staring at.”

Mm so you chose option D

Apologise.

You’re new, the last thing you need are bully’s.

So you apologised profusely to mark.

Averting eye contact.. idiot..

If you had just stared at him.. you would have seen..

he’s a total nutter

His eyes intense.

Not breaking or yielding, not for a second.

And people think eye fucking isn’t a thing. 🙄🙄

But no.. you’d rather be selfish, look away, make things harder for yourself.

Your map all crumpled.. looks like you’re gonna need another.

You mumbled a final apology.

Eyes averted, looking to the ground, more entertained by silly sneakers than him.

“S..Sorry.. I uh- this is so embarrassing, I’m uh New?, and yea.. fuck this.. I’m just gonna go bye”

Fixing your skirt one last time before walking off.

You held your skirt harshly running off to god knows where, you’ve probably missed your class six times anyways..

When you were out of his fully extended ear shot, he sighed, as if you stole his breath.

His heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

It wasn’t just his heart, he could hear yours, a frantic drumbeat echoing in his ears, a rapid staccato against the thrum of his own.

It was such a pretty sound!!

I mean everything about you seems pretty already..

He heard the shallow, slightly ragged breaths, the frantic whispers of her thoughts – a torrent of self-recrimination and fear of being late.

He could feel the tremor in your hands, the quickening pulse point near your throat, hell, even the subtle shift in weight as you braced herself for the floor.

It was overwhelming.

Mark possessed powers, he’s a Viltrumite after all, and from what his dad said that’s somehow a big deal.

But you didn’t know that..

You didn’t know shit.. all you knew was that you just bumped into a really weird kid..

Not fucking invincible

He could hear the inner workings of others – their heartbeat, their breathing, the silent symphony of their anxieties.. even desires.

His powers more burdensome than helpful.. everyone around him always dying.. it’s not fair.

ITS NOT FAIR??

WHY DOES HE HAVE TO SPRAY GUTS AND GORE GALORE FOR A PLANET HE DOESN’T EVEN WANT TO PROTECT?!!!

NO NO NO NO!!

ITS SIMPLY NOT FAIR!

ITS HIS DADS JOB NOT HIS?

But You.. You were different.

You gave him a bigger meaning.. after dad left and had Mark in charge.. everything’s so fucking bleak..

Don’t get him started on Amber.. or Eve

Their both headaches

Whining birds, bitch and squawking, only ever caring when it suits the chicks.

Hell now he has to manage this ungrateful planet, look after a sibling that’s off leash..

This is all too difficult.. he only wanted to help.. to help this dying planet.. and what he gets in return.

A slap in the face

Well that’s too bad..

Cuz he’s so fucking close to just splitting this planet in half and run thousands of people 6 feet under.

But you.. gee, this feeling.. he’s never felt it before and never wants to stop feeling it.

With the small seconds he was with you.

You’ve just changed not just Earths whole destiny.. but well

Your own.

it was a tidal wave, a sensory overload that left him breathless.

Left him feeling like he just took his true first free breath, a rebirth.

Like love a first sight.. mmm nahhh more like.. It was love at first…collision.. no no no love at first breath.

Maybe even love at first life.

A few days had passed and well you were settling in fine, family’s dialled down after the divorce.

But mark.. oh no he hasn’t lost any momentum.

Giving up is something foreign to him.

So it didn’t take long for Mark to get notes on you,

Especially that mark’s desperate enough to ask GDA..

Seriously.. Ceci…

After WHAT HE DID TO MARK.. and he’s able to set that aside for a few address leaks 😋 Mm your favourite things or two.

Cecil didn’t want to at first, especially after mark nearly killing him for what.. the third time now.

But hay it’s hard to say no to the strongest being on the fucking planet right

The spawn of the Omni-Man himself.. the same man that killed all the guardians of the globe.

And maybe a spring of hypocritical threats “i don’t do threats..” mm that’s not what Cecil remembers..

More on the lines of “Cecil I swear.. if you don’t fucking tell me, I’ll pop your skull like a pop rock and use your brains as a face mask.. TELL ME Y/N’A NUMBER YOU PEIC-“

Soooo Cecil tried backing you up.. but well how can you keep a being like a Viltrumite at bay from its objective.

After Cecil finally fed into marks delusional ideas.

Seeing it fit, as a way to manipulate and control Mark..

He didn’t need more reasons to work with Cecil.. he has infinite data on you now and owes it to Cecil.

Seeing it as Cecil was one of the best way for you and him to get together.. even thanking Cecil..

After the info was out, in the light..

Marks mental health deteriorated.. quickly.. scaring even Rex at the globe, how brutal he was becoming.. for a guy who’s known to pull his punches..

Creaking villains heads open like walnuts.. it wasn’t a good look for Mark as an older brother..

Oliver always being brutal and lacking compassion but after you and Mark met.. Oliver straight up disregards life.

It wasn’t like he cared.. only thing he cared about is keeping you safe..

Making Mark more Viltrumite than man, at this point.

And if being Cecil’s lap dog does the trick in keeping you safe, then he’ll be the best god damn lap dog, Cecil will ever have.

He’s memorised your schedule, your routine, everything.

Over a few weeks, Mark has completely gone cold to Eve, shoving her off, Mark’s pursuit on you escalating.

He’s always there.. always around.. in the mask or not..

Especially when it came out you liked Invisible..

Poor you.. poor poor thing, your the definition of fucked, literally and figuratively

Mark making sure to be extra.. in well everything, fighting bad guy, flirting with you, at the university, flirting with you like a nerd.. at your WORK?? FLIRTING WITH YOU..

The guy won’t give up!!

And at the university it was like having a body guard.. he created you with the highest respect he had..

But he was always around.. holding your books.. in the hallway, in the Library, even at your locker…

The only reason he hadn’t dropped out yet being his only tie to you right now is that satanic place!

Like come on baby.. just give him your number~ he knows you like him.. so let’s make it official.. Don’t be difficult now~

He knows your schedule better than you do, it’s almost embarrassing 😔

His silly girl.. not knowing her next class.. it’s fine he’ll take you, just don’t ask howwww~~

He knew your likes and dislikes, your hopes and fears, all milked from the symphony of your inner world.

He knew the you let out a soft sigh when you read a particularly poignant passage in your novels you love..

He even bought the whole series, so he could bond with you how sweet!

The frustrated groan you let out when you struggled with a math problem, the thrill of victory when she aced a history test.

The cough you did intentionally so people would stop talking

Even that you have a.. well.. adventurous mind about Invisible’s physic.. that he’d happily spoil to you..

Spoil that he does whimper and whine when he’s close..

That he imagines your hot cunt clamping on him then a silly flesh light, That he growls on accident.

Spoil that he slur’s his words when he’s close as if he has a lisp..

That he sucks pussy likes he’s a major in it.. that he’d suck your folds for the life of him…

That he’d nip and whimper if you asked

You’re such a perv.. but a perv he’ll happily entertain and love to the fullest.. even if it means a few thousand have to die

Remember love~ super hearing~~ you and your “friends” should keep it down. It’s annoying hearing them speak about what should only.. ONLY be yours..

Obviously eventually the constant stalking started freaking you out.. in the beginning you thought he was.. yes awkward.. a lil weird.. yea.. but charming, even cute.. but his “kindness” has morphed into something suffocating..

Plus items are getting moved.. or going missing without a trace.. you’d hate to point fingers but.. you’ve got a big feeling.. your onto him

And well you’re hitting your breaking point.. Even hiding from him.. pulling sick days..

Everything but he just.. won’t. Get. The. Hint..

More like he ignores the hint..

He knew far too much.

Understood you too well, leaving you to have a chilling feeling of being exposed, vulnerable.

A specific time, mark was walking with you out of university to your bus, him eventually pulling you to the side.. with hurt expression.. leaning in very close.. lips close nearly.. putting a hand on your shoulder.. rubbing gently while he spoke in a feather light tone.

“You know.. I’m sorry about your dad and mums divorce that much be very hard..” Mark would say.. HOW THE FUCK DOES HE know.. Who told him.. your blood ran cold, all you could do was stand there fawn, while this.. this.. this MORON poured out special memories y-you had with your family when it was intact.. for him.. to.. what… relate to??

You snapped.. yelled in his face stunning him.. he looked very shocked, then hurt..

He tried soothing you back to his side.. that only overstimulating your nerves more.. so you shoved him away from you. Walking off fast.

he had his hands out.. eyes begging to come back to him..

Mark swore he’s never felt his heart break like this.. he just wanted to care for you.. you’ve been through so much in a small human life..

He’s sorry.. so fucking sorry.. JUST DON’T LEAVE!! PLEASE

He just wants to check your okay.. but instead you wound his bleeding heart and run off..

This is so unfair.. when he’s trying your mad at him.. when he’s not your not interested..

Just let him love you!!

Please..

It’s all he’s ever wanted..

If you don’t love him back.. theirs no guarantee you and your family are safe.. and definitely not Earth.

So now you better stop being an ungrateful brat and come back here right now!!

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

⛧ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ － ALSO HERES MORE OF MY WRITING FOR KINDA A ENDING :3 LOL HERES THE DRAWING BTW AND ALSO SORRY I LOST PLOT A LITTLE I WAS A LIL TIRED (Eepy he’s so cute). But love you guys nighty nighty me = eeppy deepy

This extension being - 679 words :3

Screaming.. Crying, everything, You just wanted to him to leave!! His eyes hurt and glossy.. looking like a lost puppy. Eventually you tried to slam the door in his face.. Mark blocking it with expert speed slamming the door back into one of the walls, the thing going of the hinges.. A huge hole in the wall.. mark still holding on to the thought you’ll prevail.. and he won’t need to kill you and conquer this planet..because well the only reason he’s even protecting earth, your Marks most valuable thing in the universe to him. You <3 You stepped back looking at mark as if he’s a freak of nature.. “Y/N please.. listen.. you need to hear this.. I haven’t been honest to you.. a-and you’re mad.. b-but this’ll change it.. and w-we’ll be the same a-again!”Mark said in a shaky tone, tripping over his words.. his eyes watery.. what is this pain..It makes him want to crush his own heart.. rip out his own eyes.. eat his own skin.. WHY DOES THIS HURT?!!“Thing’s will go back to n-normal right” Words tumbling out in a rush, a torrent of desperate emotion. Mark trying and failing to persuade you.. more like himself.. giving you the crooked smile you used to like.Forcing his hand onto yours.. in a vice grip..He’s terrified.. of what.. he has no idea.. but he’s on the verge of tears to just beg for your forgiveness. You recoiled, heart beating like a panicked drum solo in Mark’s ears. Trying to tug your hand away.. only making mark construct more.. “Y-You love me.. you’ve told me.. please baby.. I love.. the only reason I know everything about you is to protect you!!?”Love.. Mark?? WHAT“I don’t love you mark what??” You shot back.. Marks lips quivering..“You love Invincible.. don’t you.. right?? You have drawings of him” “What are you talking about-“ You spoke, looking confused at mark his hold on your hand numb when he snarled. “ANSWER ME!!” You flinched immediately staring at mark.. clearly he’s been having mental breakdowns far too often. You tried to calm your nerves.. mark wasn’t doing good, you tried prying your hand away to help, for Mark to just-, with lightning speed have you in a choke hold. “Answer.. now” Lifting you up, while he hovered on to the ground. He shook you lightly.. legs dangling, your body consumed by fear you nodded your head just wanting this to end. Mark abruptly putting you back down gently, with a gentle smile.. What The FUCK? Then leaning forward kissing your slightly red neck. You froze fast.. this was all a weird mind fuck, Marks psyche this badly damaged from what.. a few harsh actions from you.. God save us all “Mm’sorry.. I didn’t mean it.. mm’im sorry.. i just.. I’m so scared.. you were so mean Y/N.. made me lose my temper..” He said feverish, peppering a trail of kisses over your slightly red neck from him choking you out a second ago. He quickly herded you from the house, dragging you forcefully. You tried resisting, but that resistance was only faced with discipline. You tried bargaining, screaming, promising not to tell to even begging It was too late for that.. He’ll take you by force. You tried keeping distance.. Feet padding back, the laces damp from what was the rain of the night. In a flash all of the distance was gone, he didn’t answer your pleas..He felt horrible.. yes.. would he stop.. mmm noWith one of his hands around your waist the other near your neck. Vision going blotchy.. You tried to struggle.. tried to scream.. but no noise came out.. He strangling you. You heard small sorrys and begs while your ears rung.. Feeling the light headed.. eventually passing out. Once he was.. sure you were asleep in his arms he kissed you lightly. A gentle reminder.. he’s doing this for you. Because well.. he loves you “You gave me no choice.. Y/N.. this is your fault..” And there shouldn’t be a reason they’re just school strangers. He won’t allow it!

BYE

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

[riordanverse-dorphin]

[Description: text in the Heroes of Olympus book font that reads “"I got pushed off of a cliff once" Annabeth said.

"Only once?" Jason asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Thalia took her attention off of her arrows, her gaze flitting towards Jason in concern. "What do you mean?"

For a split second, Jason looked perplexed as he saw his friends exchange curious looks, before realisation seemingly dawned on him.

"Oh right. You guys don't know." he said.

"Dont know what, man?" Percy pressed, looking half amused, and half concerned.

"Yeah, so" Jason began "When I first got to Camp Jupiter, people were really curious about the magnitude of my flying abilities, y'know, me being a son of Jupiter and all. So they decided to test me by pushing me off of a pretty high cliff a couple times, and you could guess what probably happened, each time i floated around like an astronaut."

"what."

"Oh, I was about three or four i think" Jason thoughtfully as though it made this story any less concerning.” End]

credits to @aroaceleovaldez for generously revealing the font name i had so much fun w this (the fonts called 'centaur')

[triplefrontierbabe]

Heyy, I love all of your fics btw, and was wondering if u could maybe write a seb hurt+comfort fic?? Maybe like age gap and reader is a rookie or smth, seb is retired and she gets hate? Or like an argument between them? No pressure tho thxx <3

The Rookie & Seb

summary: you’re a rookie f1 driver, and with the new shift in career you receive lots of unnecessary hate

pairing: f! driver reader x retired Sebastian Vettel

warning: minuscule language, mention of age gap relationship

a/n: yesss more Seb requests!! thank you anon for this!!💛💛

Thank goodness the first race of the season was done and dusted because it was not an easy introduction into your rookie year in Formula 1. Not only was that your first race but you’re the only woman on the grid, an idea that people even in this day and age can’t manage to understand. You had spent the last two seasons as a development and reserve driver, and now you were finally living your dream.

In addition to dealing with the usual skepticism of a rookie, your social media was flooded with nasty comments simply because you’re a woman. A woman who is also dating Sebastian Vettel you might add.

She only has a seat because her old boyfriend pulled strings for her.

Women are ruining the sport.

She’s such a liability on and off the track.

So on, and so forth.

“I don’t get it!” You exclaim, falling back onto the couch in your and Sebastian’s living room.

“It’s like this for all rookies, dear.” Sebastian replies as he takes a seat next to you while sympathetically patting your knee.

“No, Sebastian, it’s not.” You begin, wiping a hand down your face. “Not to pull that card but I guarantee you the other rookies aren’t dealing with this kind of nonsense. I didn’t even DNF this race like everyone else, but I’m getting the brunt of all the hate.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just sits there, blank faced.

Usually Sebastian gets you. He usually understands what emotions you’re going through especially with racing. And, more often than not, he’s able to comfort you when you’re incredibly hard on yourself.

From the start, getting to the top in racing was already a more difficult path to follow. Despite it all you put in the work and some. But, as if it wasn’t hard enough, once the public got wind that you were romantically involved with the veteran driver, rumors started circulating like wildfire. Suddenly you were no longer the young woman who trailblazed a path in motorsports. Instead you were a talentless, paddock bunny whose career was built on nepotism. And that frustrated you to no end.

“Nobody understands me!” You yell as you stand up from the couch, dropping your hands to your sides.

Sebastian’s eyes stay on you as you pace the room ruminating on how you can get through his thick skull.

“Listen, I know it’s hard. I’ve been there. People are going to say things that aren’t true and that get under your skin but you just gotta let it roll off your back.” He says looking you in the eyes.

“You think I don’t know that, Sebastian? I know that’s how it is. But I have to go through this with having a man’s name attached to everything I do. If I excel it’s only because a man was there to help. I get no credit for my own talent. But if I suck, it’s because I’m a mindless woman whose only concern is chasing men and ruining the sport. And it’s not that I’m uncomfortable with accountability— I’m perfectly fine owning up to my shortcomings— but what’s it worth if I can’t even claim my own success? It’s a lose-lose situation no matter what.” As you finish, you feel tears brimming in your eyes, your frustration etched on your face.

That renders Sebastian truly speechless. His silence speaks volumes to you and it hurts. It almost feels like he genuinely cannot understand where your frustration is stemming from.

“See, you don’t get it.” You say sharply pointing a finger at him. And with that you make a quick exit and head for the bedroom.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Minutes, maybe even hours, pass before you hear a knock on the door.

“Can I come in?” Sebastian’s muffled voice says on the other side of the door. After waiting for a moment with no response, he carefully enters the room.

You lay on the bed with your back turned to him, not yet wanting to look at him. The bed dips behind you as Sebastian gingerly sits down behind you. His hand hesitates for a second before extending to gently rest on your back, rubbing slow circles.

“I’m sorry for what I said— or more of what I didn’t say.” He says letting out a small breath. “I know it’s tough out there for you but I guess I never thought outside myself to even think of what additional shit you have to face.”

His words linger in the air before you turn around and sit up in bed to look at Sebastian.

“I just feel so helpless, Seb. I feel like I’m going through this alone because nobody sees it how I do. I thought you of all people would.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t, that was an oversight on my part.” Sebastian interjects taking your hands in his.

“I love you so, so much and I cannot even begin to describe how proud I am of you for achieving your dreams. I’m sorry I didn’t get it before now. Before I even knew you, you were already on this path of greatness. Everything you’ve done in your career, you’ve done through your own power. I’m honored to just get a front row seat to watch you do what you do. No one can steal that from you.”

Your heart strains at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. Nobody has ever talked to you like that. You finally feel appreciated in a new sense. He gets it now.

“I will do everything I can to be your biggest supporter and to drown out all the nonsensical mess that’s thrown your way.”

“Sebastian, I don’t even know what to say.” You reply, your voice hoarse. The look in his eyes tells you more than words could. He’s hurt that he hurt you. He’s hurt that this is what it took for him to see things the way you experience them.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

“I’m not.” he says, cracking a smile. “If you hadn’t, I probably would’ve been walking around longer acting like an idiot offering you useless advice like a broken record.”

You laugh at his words before offering him a silent thank you. And for now, that moment is all you need to lift the incredibly weight off your shoulders.

F1 Masterlist | Indycar Masterlist

600 followers celebration!

requests are open!

[justplainlovely]

I got into a fight in the comments section on Pinterest where people are still saying that Cooper is married. This is what I’m talking about when I say media literacy is a lost art. Like unless something is spelled out for people by the character it concerns, it doesn’t exist… even though side characters were discussing Cooper Howard’s alimony as the reason for him ‘wasting time performing at kids parties’. No. Unless Cooper himself says “hello I’m a divorced dad” it’s not real.

Similarly, whenever I’m given grief about how toxic Cooper and Lucy’s relationship is—literally no one is denying the way they met each other is messed up—they often forgo the fact that by the end of season 1 they are begrudging allies. That Lucy understands what he did to her wasn’t personal and decides to go with him mostly because she would die otherwise, but also because Cooper is her key to figuring things out. Ship wars aside, they’re on track to be at least friendly.

And those who think the possibility of Maximus not being with Lucy is the end of his character are missing the point of both his and Lucy’s character arcs. Maximus has some shit to figure out. Mainly, which side is he on. He’s disillusioned with the Brotherhood by the end, but deserting would mean his death. At the same time, he’s also got the opportunity using his knighthood to “hurt the people who hurt [him]”.

“People” being Hank MacLean, Vault-Tec, and possibly others.

As for Lucy, it’s clear that by the end of the series Vault-Tec is in conflict with her closely held beliefs. And when she inevitably discovers what Cooper knows in season 2, it’s debatable whether or not she’ll ever want to live in the vault again. But when her and Maximus run in again, it won’t be so they can escape. Both of them will have their reasons for hating Vault-Tec by then and both of them will deal with it differently. Let’s remember how they handle morality. Both he and Lucy in season 1 saw things as black and white, often to their own detriments. Lucy learned when and how to break free from that (ethics teacher) but Max, by the end of the series, is veering towards violence as the answer and he’s seeing too many problems. The bear scene and the moment with the chicken fucker come to mind when I think about his future. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have lingered on those scenes.

Anyway.

No one comes out of this unscathed.

[etherealrin]

hii! so I just found out the guy I was talking to wasn’t taking anything seriously 😭😭 so could I request something about rin x fem!reader where he comforts her and maybe secretly had a crush on her the whole time? like maybe she tells him about it and how the guy admitted to saying really nice things he didn’t even mean? and how he also said “we’ll see” like ???? I’m still so appalled HAHAHAHA

HAHAHA not my request being too realistic 😭 but no pressure!! you can ignore it too :)

- 💫

ᯓ★ stability.

itoshi rin will always be there for you, even if you feel like no one is.

warnings: mild angst to comfort // wc: 700

note: fem!reader, hurt to comfort

rin hates it.

he hates it when he's forced to sit and watch you cry over some shitty guy, he hates watching you shrink into the despair, and he hates that someone so lukewarm dared to hurt your feelings. and of course, right now he holds the most hate for the asshole that had caused all of this.

he stares at you as you hug your knees to your chest. rin's never been the best at comforting people; especially when it came to you, because he couldn't tell you his honest thoughts.

he sighs and sits down in the space beside you, the two of you hunched over on his plush sofa. he had been concerned when you'd called him asking if you could come over—not giving an explanation when he asked for one. rin gently wraps an arm around your shaking figure as you sob your eyes out.

"so," he begins, voice barely above a whisper. "what happened?"

"r-rin, he," your words are cut off by sniffles. rin silently hands you a tissue, which you accept gratefully. "he lied." you finally manage, an image of the guy you'd been entertaining for the last few months flashing in your mind.

"what do you mean?" rin's trying to keep his voice flat, to not let his outrage manifest.

"i guess he just wasn't serious about me, or about anything." you sigh, and rin's heart drops with the sound. "he apparently didn't mean much of what he said, when he complimented me or whatever, he just wanted to see how i'd react. as if i'm some doll," you scoff bitterly.

"...i'll kill him." rin hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the familiar phrase slips from his lips, dripping with acidity. the threat makes your mouth twist up, just a bit, as you giggle quietly. "what's so funny?" rin turns to look at you. you look beautiful; so much more than perfect, even if you were a bit red and teary-eyed, mascara smudging faint black lines around your eyelid.

"you're so reliable rin," your voice is wistful, sounding like you're lost within the walls of your own thoughts. "you say the same thing about all of my exes. you're always here for me."

oh, rin could name a million other ways he could be there for you: he waits for you each morning at the bus stop, he always texts to make sure you've eaten well, drops off coffee to your place when you're overloaded with work, and he'd do so much more if it would make you smile.

"i'd be different," he mutters. rin can feel your gaze settle on him, confusion rolling off you in waves.

"huh?" fuck it.

"i never lie when i tell you that you're absolutely breathtaking, because you are. i wouldn't mess with your emotions, because i care about you. i would give you the universe and the galaxy. i'd care about you more than any of your exes did, i'd-" rin falters, catching your expression out of the corner of his eye. your mouth is parted in a perfect little "o" as the reality of rin's words sink in.

for a minute it's pure, stifling silence between you two. the last thing he expects is for you to lean back into his chest, exhaling deeply.

"rin," you start. his breathtaking teal eyes stare back at you, afraid to say another word. "i- i didn't realize you felt that way too."

rin's breath hitches.

"forget about him, forget about all of them, please."

"i don't deserve you," your voice is small and raw around the edges, eyes glued to the floor.

"no, you don't. you're right." rin's words hit you like a truck. "you deserve so much more than me. i know i'm not perfect, but if you give me time i," he breathes, words spilling out like a bleeding cut. "i can work on it, i swear."

itoshi rin has always been your stability, your confidant, your white knight—but he can't live with just that now.

maybe, this time, he might come out as something more.

a/n: oml hi star anonnnn! + wtf i'm so sorry that happened to u i've been in ur place too, just know that you're 100x more special than you can even fathom and boys (the bad ones) aren't shit! i hope ur doing okay <3

ılılılılılılı now playing: stability by oceanfromtheblue, star shopping by lil peep, ykwim? by yot club

masterlist.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Mark Grayson 💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

send a heart - 💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

[sort of a part ii to this request x]

-------------------------------------------------

After your workout and a quick shower in the locker room, you were finally done for the day and allowed to go home. You sigh as you heard the automatic doors open & shut for the last barrier to your freedom. This new training Cecil and his team had you on was murder.

You smile despite your sore muscles as you see Mark waiting for you in the hallway. Dressed in his casuals as well. No longer Invincible but Mark Grayson who was going to walk you home. Maybe stay and watch a movie. Maybe do some other stuff…..

“Good work today you two.” You turn to look over your shoulder just as you link your fingers with Mark to see Cecil behind you. How did the man always seem to appear like that? “Stats like that and we’ll be ready for the Super Bowl in no time.” You weren’t sure what the Super Bowl was in this scenario, but Cecil seemed certain it was going to come. “[Y/N], a word?”

Though it was phrased as a question, you knew as well as anyone that it wasn’t. You growl in your throat and squeeze Mark’s hand. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be outside.” He promised. Squeezing your hand back before he went out the doors.

You smile wistfully at your sweet boyfriend, before you clear it from your face and turn to Cecil. “Yes?”

“How is the new training going for you?” You arch a brow at Cecil’s question. He knew how it was going. You went over the stats report with the science guys personally with him in the room. So why the question?

“Fine.” You answer cautiously. “Why?”

“I just want to make sure my top players have the resources they need.” There was a pause as you and the older man stare at each other. Finally he added, “how’s Mark doing?”

‘Aahhh’ You thought as you realize you had come to the crux of this line of questioning. This wasn’t about you. It was about Mark. “Mark is fine.”

“You sure about that?” You arch your brow again. Was he questioning how well you knew your boyfriend? “Mark’s been through a lot. His dad tried to kill him, along with half the planet. He had to get his bones and skin stitched back together. People depending on him to save the world.”

“If you’re so worried he can’t handle it, then why don’t you take a little off Mark’s plate so he can.”

Cecil’s frown let you know that he did not like that suggestion. “I’m not saying Mark can’t handle it. I’m saying that I want us to be vigilant in case the boy wonder starts to crack.” It felt like there was another show about to drop. You don’t remember Cecil being this soft or altruistic with the rest of you. “I know you and Mark are close. I’m asking that you help him if he starts to buckle. And, let us know so we can manage it.”

You were shocked. “You want me to spy on Mark.” That’s what all of this was about.

“I’m not asking you to spy on him, [Y/N]. I’m just asking you to keep an eye on him and report back if you notice anything.”

“You literally just said the definition of spying.” You grit your teeth. Disgusted at the mere suggestion you would betray Mark’s trust. “I’ve done a lot of things ‘for the cause’ Cecil. But I’m not doing that.”

“So you would rather get blindsided again like the last time if Mark ever cracks?” Cecil argued. “I’m not asking for State Secrets on him here [Y/N]. I’m just asking for a head up on his mental state.”

“Get him a shrink then if you’re so worried. But I’m not doing it!” This conversation was over as far as you were concerned, so you turned to leave and meet back up with Mark.

“Everything ok?” Mark asked when he saw you. Immediately noticing your annoyed and angry expression.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You tell him. Quickly schooling your features into something softer. “Just some new thing Cecil wanted me to do for training. And I was like ‘agh…oh my god…enough already…I yield’.” Mark laughed at your joke and kissed your cheek as he re-linked up your hands.

Your smile back to him was a little jilted as you debated on telling Mark what actually happened. It would hurt his feelings to know that the people he was working so hard for him didn’t trust him. That, in the end, despite everything he had done, they still thought he was like his father. But didn’t he deserve to know that the people he was working for didn’t trust him? You weren’t sure what the right answer was.

In the end, you left it alone for now. You weren’t sure if it was the right answer or not, but you just didn’t want to deal with it. You weren’t going to spy on Mark, so what else could they do?

[gohyemi]

Birthday wishes 3

Mingyu paced back and forth, biting his nails anxiously.

"How the hell am I supposed to go back to the way things were?"

His mind raced with questions. Did I do something wrong? Was this some kind of twisted joke?

A sudden knock on his door made him freeze. He turned to see Jeonghan leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Let’s go. We’re dead if we’re late."

Mingyu let out a deep sigh. Late? Late for what? He barely remembered what his schedule was back in university. But he had no choice. He grabbed his bag and followed Jeonghan out. ---------------------------

Throughout class, he couldn’t focus. The professor’s words blurred together, fading into the background as his thoughts spiraled.

How do I get back?

Everything felt so real. The familiar desks, the smell of old textbooks, the chatter of students who had no idea how out of place he felt.

What about my job? The career I worked so hard for? The sweat and tears I poured into it?

And worst of all—what about her?

The love he had chased so hard.

His fingers tightened around his pen.

"God… is this my punishment?”

As he walked aimlessly along the campus path, still lost in his thoughts, he collided hard into someone.

A loud gasp. A cup slipping from their hands.

SPLASH.

A cold, sticky sensation spread across his shirt. "Shit!" Mingyu hissed, looking down at the brown boba tea now soaking through his clothes.

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry!" A flustered voice stammered in front of him. He looked up—ready to snap, his frustration bubbling over—but the moment his eyes met hers, the words died in his throat.

It was you.

Standing there, eyes wide, panicking over the mess you made.

His chest tightened. He forgot to breathe.

"Wait, let me grab some napkins—" You fumbled with your bag, reaching for the small towel you always carried, but Mingyu grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

"Babe…" he whispered, barely audible—but you heard it.

You froze. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you stepped back, gently pulling your wrist from his grip.

"Sorry?"

Mingyu’s heart sank.

Your voice, your face, everything was the same—but the way you looked at him wasn’t.

It was unfamiliar. Foreign. There was no warmth, no recognition, none of the love he once knew.

And that realization hurt more than anything. 

"Sorry—no, I mean, it's okay. No big deal."

Mingyu quickly averted his gaze, avoiding eye contact. His throat tightened, and he didn’t know why his eyes felt moist. No. He couldn’t break down here. Not in front of you. Not while recreating history.

"No, it was my fault. Let me help you," you insisted, concern lacing your voice. But Mingyu didn’t wait. Didn’t think.

He bolted.

———————————————————

Back in his dorm, he slumped onto his chair, burying his face in his hands.

"God… I’m such a fool.” The scene replayed over and over in his mind—your confused gaze, the unfamiliarity in your eyes, the way you stepped away from him.

He exhaled sharply and grabbed a notebook, flipping to a blank page.

"Okay… let’s draft this."

He started scribbling furiously, tracing every event that led up to this moment.

The night before everything changed.

Went home.

Had a shitty day.

Acted like an asshole.

Mingyu winced, gripping his pen tighter. Well, that hurts to think about again.

He continued drawing a mind map, connecting events like puzzle pieces—until he reached that moment.

The cake.

The music. The laughter. The people cheering. And then—

“Make a wish…”

Mingyu’s pen stilled.

"Make a wish…" he whispered.

That voice.

That wasn’t anyone from the club that night. He was sure of it. wasn’t Mark, wasn’t any of his colleagues.

It was something else. A voice that felt like a passing breeze—fleeting, distant. Mingyu leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

————————————————————————

At the Girls' Dorm

Y/N sat at her study table, staring blankly at her textbook. The words blurred together, her mind elsewhere.

"Babe?"

His whisper echoed in her head.

Her chest tightened.

"Y/N!"

She snapped out of her thoughts as her friends called her name. Blinking, she looked up and forced an awkward smile.

"What's up?"

Both her friends exchanged teasing looks.

"Thinking about the drama from this morning?" one of them smirked.

"Gosh, it was adorable! The way it happened—you have to admit, it was kinda romantic."

"Don’t tell me your heart didn’t flutter when he looked at you like that," the other girl chuckled, nudging her playfully while making a dreamy expression.

Y/N let out a small laugh and shut her textbook.

"Nothing to fantasize about," she said, waving it off. "It was just a mistake. And honestly, I think he was pissed." She sighed. "Gosh, he’s Jeonghan's friend. How am I supposed to fix my image now?"

At the mention of Jeonghan, her friends groaned in unison.

"Ugh, why’d you have to bring him up?" one of them whined.

"Yeah, way to ruin the mood," the other pouted. Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. But deep down, her thoughts drifted back to Mingyu.

That look in his eyes… why did it feel so familiar? She shakes her head and focus back on her friends.

"By the way, speaking of Jeonghan..." one of her friends started, eyeing Y/N closely, trying to gauge her reaction—which, of course, worked.

"His sister said not to forget about next week," her friend added casually, passing along the message.

Y/N raised a brow. "Next week?"

"Giiirl, I bet you're already on her potential sister-in-law list," her other friend teased with a grin.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. Next week was Soobin's birthday—Jeonghan's sister.

"But here's the thing—she wants you to bring a plus one. And she already warned us not to be your plus one."

"Yeah, I think she wants you to finally have the guts to ask her brother out," her friend added, wiggling her eyebrows.

Y/N let out a deep sigh. "Okay, okay. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll contact her to confirm everything."

Her friends exchanged knowing looks before bursting into giggles, “Good luck okay any advice you can count on us” With that they both went out.

While Y/N buried her face in her hands, she sighed. Why did it always come back to Jeonghan?

Right. Of course, it made sense. Back in university, she had a huge crush on him. Funny how her heart took an emergency turn, falling for that big puppy instead.

Mingyu.

His eyes that afternoon… the way they looked at her—it stirred something in her chest. A part of her wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug, to comfort him.

Yes, she is also back in the past. She thought she was the only one here, but after that incident, hearing him whisper that nickname like he used to. it seemed like he was here, too.

Her gaze fell on the watch sitting on her desk. The watch she had planned to give him before he lashed out and left that night.

Her fingers traced over the glass, the stillness of the hands catching her attention. The date displayed was today’s date—the present—but the clock’s needles weren’t moving.

All she had to do was push the crown back to make the needles move again, and she would return.

She exhaled deeply, her lips curling into a soft smile.

"I miss him already… but since we’re here, shouldn’t we enjoy it a little? It might be my last chance—who knows?"

---------------------🕰.......🕰------------------------

I make the story more complicated...damn it should end after this.... i guess

[hrrtshape]

okay. that was a LOT but your questions were elite. 10/10. feel free to send more. 💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

so happy u said this bc i have more questions and wonders ✨💕

what was the ministry of magic like? what things did you see/do for your politics class? i’d like to know about the weirder ministry jobs, like mr weasley worked in the muggle artefact office… what do u even do in there??

what’s it liked being around ghosts? can you put your hand straight through them or is that considered inappropriate 😭

was there anything you were super excited about before you shifted, but then once you got there you realised it wasn’t that exciting? or things you didn’t even think about and they ended up being the most exciting things?

you might’ve been able to tell from my questions about witch princesses and wizard cavemen that i’m super into history, so magic history makes my head explode. i’d love to know about witch hunts, and how did muggles and wizards learn to just leave eachother alone? of course the muggle governments must know about witches and wizards, so how does it remain a secret?

also would love to know about the owl airforce ???? how does that even work???? how do they know where to take the letter? and how would you get a big parcel delivered somewhere?

and and and the soap blizzard!!!! what even happened there? 🧼

what kind of wizard diseases or viruses can you get? and is there anything that’s not curable?

what’s your favourite spell? omg and is there witch makeup? or cool jewellery that does weird things?

have you learnt about boggarts and if so what’s yours? you don’t have to answer that one it might be quite deep lol but did anyone in the class have any weird fears?

LAST ONE i promise 😭 the triwizard tournament…. is that happening whilst you’re at school? also is it always the same activities? fighting a dragon, diving into the lake, running through a maze? or is there more? and what’s the worst thing that’s ever happened during a tournament?

okay i’m done thank u so much😭😭😭😭😭😭 do you know when you plan to shift next? or do u just decide before u go to sleep? 💓💓💓💓 love u thank u 💓💓💓 sorry if there’s any typos

oh my god !!!?!??? no this is actually the best set of questions i’ve ever received. this is exactly what i want.

the ministry of magic: a mess. think about every government building you’ve ever seen and then imagine it’s also enchanted to be deeply inconvenient. the atrium is gorgeous, very gilded-age-opulence-meets-dark-academia, but the deeper you go, the weirder it gets. the politics class (which i've interconnected with history of magic which is WHY it's so interesting to me) field trip was mostly a tour, but we did get to see some actual policymaking in action,,,, though by policymaking, i mean a group of wizards arguing about cauldron thickness regulations like it was life or death. (to be fair, they take that seriously because faulty cauldrons have, quote, “led to a concerning rise in explosions.” so.)

as for weird ministry jobs, there are loads. the muggle artefact office, where mr weasley worked. then there’s the unspeakables, who work in the department of mysteries and don’t tell anyone what they actually do (suspicious). and my personal favourite: the wizarding equivalent of health and safety inspectors, who go around making sure people aren’t running blatantly dangerous shops. (they are always running blatantly dangerous shops.)

ghosts: yes??? you can technically put your hand through them, but it’s kind of like sticking your hand in a freezer full of dry ice. cold, weirdly tingly, and generally not the vibe. also yes, it’s wildly inappropriate. they hate it. it’s the ghost equivalent of someone coming up to you and just. poking you in the forehead. (peeves, however, has no such etiquette and flies through people all the time just to be annoying.)

pre-shifting excitement vs reality: okay this is so real because i swear i thought i’d be most excited about, like, potions class or going to diagon alley. but actually the best things were the tiny details. the staircases of the astronomy tower that groan like old men when you step on them, the way your wand feels like an extension of your hand, the smell of old parchment and candlewax in the common room. and the most overrated thing,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, quidditch matches. i’m sorry. they sound fun from an observers perspective, but have you ever sat in a freezing cold stadium for hours while tiny specks zoom around in the distance? it’s like watching football but worse because at least with football you can see the ball. i can say this with confidence because i would be dragged to watch coryo practise. it's way more fun when you're actually flying

wizard history: oh my god you’re my favourite person because magic history is insane. the witch hunts, yeah, those were a joke. wizards figured out very quickly that muggle fire did basically nothing to them, so it turned into a game of “how many times can i get burned at the stake before they get bored.” the international statute of secrecy (which made the wizarding world go into hiding) happened in 1692 because wizards were not being subtle and the muggles were starting to get suspicious. most muggle governments do know about magic, but they act like it’s classified top-secret information, which is hilarious because wizards are so bad at staying hidden.

owl postal service: i cannot stress enough how much faith they put into these birds. if you send a letter, you don’t tell the owl where to go. you just hand it over and trust that it has some kind of divine bird gps. same with parcels, except for massive ones, you’d probably send multiple owls or just use floo powder like a normal person. (except no one is normal. they will always choose the most dramatic delivery method possible.)

the soap blizzard: ended up writing the whole history on this but. in short: soap storm, bubble bursts, economy crashes. a messy chapter in wizarding history.

wizard diseases: loads, and some of them are horrific. spattergroit is like wizard chickenpox but worse, with actual purple pustules (vom). there’s also dragon pox, which is basically the flu but it turns you green and scaly before it kills you. most things are curable if you get to st mungo’s fast enough, but some, like lycanthropy (werewolf-ism), are more of a long-term situation.

favourite spell + wizard fashion: wingardium leviosa is the most useful spell in existence. i am lazy. i want things to float for me. as for wizard fashion, makeup is a huge thing, but it’s mostly subtle. like lip stains that last for days or eyeliner that applies itself perfectly every time. jewellery is insane. enchanted necklaces that hum when someone lies to you, rings that heat up when danger is near, bracelets that glow different colours depending on your mood. absolutely sick. luv it.

boggarts: mine is… dot dot dot a mystery just because i'm not ready to share it yet. but some people in class had truly bizarre ones. like, one kid’s biggest fear was a plate of raw fish (unclear if it was the texture or just an innate hatred of sushi). another girl’s boggart was a slightly larger version of herself. ed culture was still a thing in hogwarts. somehow.

triwizard tournament: tragically, no, it didn’t happen while i was there. but from what i’ve heard, the tasks do change sometimes. there’s always an endurance challenge, a test of magical skill, and something deeply psychologically cruel (because why not). worst thing to ever happen? in 1792, all three champions got eaten by a cockatrice. which, yk. not ideal.

shifting plans: depends!!!!! sometimes i plan it out, sometimes i just go eh, vibes and decide that night. but you best believe i’m already scheming my next trip.

this was an elite interrogation. thank YOU. 💓💓💓💓💓💓

[jetsetlifemademeghost]

Hello everyone, have a Gerard fanart while I talk about the current situation here in Indonesia

Press down here, please read all the way through if you can

Hello, I am A, I'm Indonesian. I apologize for my terrible grammar. I will be using initials due to future safety concerns.

Right now Indonesia is going through a massive change under the reign of our new president and his vice, and I can't say its a good thing. Our elected president, initial P. S. is an alleged human rights offender due to his participation in the kidnapping of several activists back in 1997 and 1998 during Indonesia's "New Order", under president Soeharto and a known Zionist. Meanwhile his vice, G. R. Is the son of our previous reigning president, a pro AI leader and generally seems to be underqualified to be a vice president.

It has been a little bit over 100 days of P. S. and G. R.'s reign over Indonesia and country has been in shambles. During their campaign, they promised the people a free nutritious lunch program that won them a massive following of supporters. However, the program turned out not as expected with the food being barely nutritious and even bad at times. But these are not only the problem Indonesia has been facing these past few months.

Some of these problems are; the government cutting education funds, countless of mis-use of AI in spaces it shouldn't (AI-art, AI competitions), even things like the shooting of a highschool student by an armed police officer, and silencing any form of art that criticized the governmental corruption. All happened in the span of more or less 100 days under the reign of our newly elected president.

However, the country reached a new low in the past 2 days. The parliament recently discussed a new bill that contained a revision to military personnel, letting them take part in socio-politics departement. The discussion was done closed, in a fancy hotel and not in the official government office. And just yesterday, they approved this bill.

If you're unfamiliar with this, Indonesia's military system had this exact system back in The New Order, under Soeharto's dictator reign. And according to history, this has done greater harm than good, increasing the probability of violence by the cops and military, silenced journalists, kidnapping and murder of activists, and ultimately, according to Indonesian history, a riot that killed several college students from Trisakti University.

Yesterday, several riots were planned, mostly by college students in Jakarta and they were met with violence by military personnel keeping track of them (mostly beatings). This alone has proved the escalated risk of violence by military personnel.

Please spread this as far as you can. And if you can, please do your own research because I am also not invincible to misinformation and/or propagandas. I'd like for people outside of my country know what is happening to us incase something greater than us happens.