#them interacting would be priceless

[bbyboybucket]

actors on actors except it’s supes on supes. And the first characters I’d stick in a room together is Homelander and John Walker

[roaringroa]

today i met up with my high school friend group for the first time in 3 years (i had seen all but one individually or in smaller groups ocasionally at parties or something in the last year but never all of them together and never somewhere just us where we could really talk) and we spent  hours talking and laughing and remembering but also catching each other up in our current life events and just having an overall great time and like man life really is worth living

[livyamel]

THIS FRIEND GROUP IS EVERYTHING??

This took me too long 😭 I wished in the epilogue we got a group photo with everyone…but we didn’t, unless there’s a secret I don’t know about. Anyway enjoy ✨��️

[descendant-of-the-crane]

I think that Akira and Sanjing would have the ultimate friendship and it had better happen in a future book

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail

gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)

Thinking about your rich boyfriend…

Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough. 

Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking. 

Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.

Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.

Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets. 

It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.

Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do. 

Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.

Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality. 

But you’re not joking… 

You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?

You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide. 

Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…

Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that. 

Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.

Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.

He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything. 

Anything you want, it’s yours.

But he owns you.

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Rin

HxH – Illumi

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 700

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. this is just a short prologue to show how things end (yay happy endings!), but the two have a lot of trauma to go through before they reach endgame. i love kinich's character and design so i'm excited for this! interaction is highly appreciated :)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

Kinich thinks he’s loved you since forever.

He has no way of proving that, of course; those years are long gone, and even if he had the opportunity to ask, he’s not sure his younger self would have a comprehensible answer. He can only see now that he’s come so far, when the memories are too murky to make sense of but the warmth remains—when he thinks of your smile and feels something akin to the weightlessness of grappling and flying through the trees.

He says “forever” because he really has no idea when it started—the realization came far after the feeling. He’d been before school age when he met you for the first time, and it’s been over a decade since then.

“Kinich!”

Your call interrupts his thoughts, and his gaze is drawn skyward—you’re standing somewhere far above him, on one of the walkways lining the cliffs of the Scions of the Canopy. You’re waving so wildly and ridiculously that it almost makes him smile.

“Are you coming down?” he calls through cupped hands, well-acquainted with this kind of long-distance communication. Sound tends to echo well between the cliffs here, and he’s sure you heard him when you offer an enthusiastic thumbs-up in return. 

“Yup! I bought a few things, so I was hoping you could help me carry them home!”

Kinich rolls his eyes teasingly. “Somehow I doubt that you have enough Mora left to afford my services.”

You pout in reply. Ajaw decides to appear then, a malicious puff of smoke over Kinich’s shoulder. “Of course not! You better not be making fun of me, letting some mortal treat you like a servant! The Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, won’t take this kind of disrespect—”

Ignoring his wordy introduction, you call down to Kinich again. “I’m coming down! Think fast!”

“—Don’t make me lau—wait, what?!”

Even Ajaw yelps in surprise as you take a running leap off the walkway, freefalling fast down the plane of the cliff. If he were any younger, Kinich might’ve had a heart attack. But you’ve been pushing your luck with him for years, and it comes as instinct when Kinich grapples up, deftly catching you in his arms with a light ‘oof’.

You’re holding a few boxes in your arms, he notices, and you smile. 

“I bought some Puff Pops for us to share later. I was thinking we can do some climbing, or there’s this cave I’ve been meaning to explore.”

His heart does a sort of flip that cannot be attributed to the way you fly through the sky. It’s all so much: the sensation of your warmth pressed against him, the scent of the wind rushing past, and the laughter of his tribe members below. Their eyes shine as they watch the two of you pass above them, chuckling at the familiar sight. 

And really, he can’t remember ever being this happy. When he thinks of how much it took to reach this point, the heartbreak and trauma aren’t the first things to come to mind. Instead, it’s you. The way you held him, the way you cried for him, the way you chased him. Always laughing, always in love.

Too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice your curious stare for a moment. You poke at his cheek, and he startles, nearly dropping you both.

“Is something wrong?” you ask shyly, suddenly self-conscious of the box in your hands. “We don’t have to do any of that. Really, if you have a high-value job or something, I understand.”

Ajaw decides to butt-in again, reddened with rage. “Yes, all of that sucks! I mean, seriously, don’t you have anything better to do—”

“No, it’s great,” Kinich murmurs in reply, flicking Ajaw away with a strong hand—the Saurian’s roar dissipates with the wind. He holds you tighter against his chest. There’s nothing worth more to him than you. “That all sounds really, really amazing.”

As the two of you burst through the trees, laughing the whole way, he thinks that it doesn’t really matter when he started to love you. All that matters is that he doesn’t stop.

Kinich thinks he’ll love you forever.

[nothomegal]

"Flashing warnings"

Pyramid Head x GN Reader

Summary: you've been with the executioner for quite some time, enough for you to have your own special bond. You were his, and that fact alone was enough for the whole Silent Hill to avoid you, well aware of what they'll find out if they mess around. However, this little rule is unknown for any unfortunate newcomers that get trapped in this cursed town, and today you've met one of these newcomers... One would think, seeing monsters avoiding you like fire should be enough proof to do the same, but... Eh, some people are way too stubborn and blind.

Warnings: typical violence and gore, (Y/N) getting mistreated by meanies >:(

Word count: 2.9k

(Y/N) been sitting on this old matress for quite some time, they've already tried any possible sitting position yet non made the book they're reading more interesting.

Pyramid Head, or how they began to call him, 'Pyra', left to hunt and punish whatever soul putrid enough to get his attention. He's been gone a good amount of hours and they haven't heard a single sound of his in the distance, no metal scraping against the concrete at the distance or any screams of agony from his victim, nothing. How many hours it been? Three? Five? It's tough to tell, specially when this town knows no day/night cycles and it's always foggy. Even though they're not sure how long it been, they can tell it's the longest Pyra's been gone.

They switch into a laying position as they begin to think about what to do now. They could totaly go out and take a walk if they wanted, but they're concerned they'll end up bumping into the people Pyra is hunting. No, they won't get punished but they don't want to witness a literal slaughter neither, and whenever something (literaly anything) dares to interact with (Y/N), the pyramid headed beast seems to go wild of fury.

This is some very serious issolation, but (Y/N) became fine with it and Pyra is not as bad of a company as he initialy was. Feel him close to them, his big palm resting against their body as a reminder that he's there, the random noises that come out his helmet whenever he seems content or wants to get their attention... To be honest, these little things became more than enough at this point, and it's not like they've used to be the most social butterfly anyways. And even if they were... Well, arguing with Pyra is useless, he never budges, and if (Y/N) starts to get unreasonable or the argument goes nowhere, he simply brushes his togue across their face, purpously waiting for the moment their open their mouth. And ta-da! Argument solved since (Y/N) is too shocked and flustered to continue and Pyra simply let's out a deep and amused rumble.

(Y/N) chuckles to themselves at this memory, when it happened the first time the face they made was probably priceless, and the way Pyra allowed them to hide their face in his chest so the shame goes away... Sigh, they hope he returns soon.

The hairs on the back of their neck stood up when they began to hear the sound of numerous people run and hurriedly yellsomething to each other. (Y/N) of course panics a bit, and to avoid any possible interaction with the group of people they sneak into the corner of the room near the door, so if anyone of the group peeks inside they won't notice (Y/N) right away. It also seems like the people are running away from something, something that is not Pyra because of the lack of known bulky footsteps and scraping sounds.

Unfortunately, their little plan went town the drain when the group of around five man bursted through the old door and attempted to close it, while the creature outside of it was desperately slaming itself against the wooden surface. (Y/N) turned completely still as they shrunk in their place, internally hoping that due to the intense moment these people wouln't notice then and would simply brush off their form as some inanimate object.

Unfortunately, one of the men did noticed them.

—"Hey Dave, there's another one hidin' over he-"—

The man couldn't finish the sentence as the creature from the other side managed to burst through the door, throwing the men on the ground in the process. Some of them stumble back, others pull out their weapons and point at the creature, who resulted to be a monster known as ‘Slurper’, take a guess why it's called that. Not the most difficult creature to deal with but definitely the trickiest, it’s very fast and definitely can handle or dodge some shots and hits from the group.

The monster crawls inside of the room, it’s elongated face making some slurping noises as drool and blood drips from its mouth. But the beast suddenly freezes mid-step, and very slowly and subtly turns it’s head towards (Y/N), making the men look at them as well. The monster suddenly lets out a whine, similar to that of a dog, and practically runs away at high speed, completely terrified.

The group stare at the door in shock, their mouth gaping a bit. (Y/N) remains stiff, their knees pressed to their chest as they think what to do now. The answer comes when one of the man, who seems to be the leader, stands up and starts walking towards them, his expression indescifrable, but his gaze definitely holding malice.

So (Y/N) jumps to their feet as fast as they could and make a run through the doorway and down the hallway. They can hear the group yell something as they chase them, their voices angry and irritated, which only motivated them to keep running since it’s now clear that these people weren’t kind at all.

Things turn significantly worse when they get grabbed by the back of their clothes and then tackled down on the floor, the impact was rough and quite painful which made (Y/N) release a pained whine. The man above them grabs a good chunk of their hair and presses their head agains the dirty and cold floor as he looks at them.

—“The fuck was that? How did you do it?!”— he exclaims strictly, his tone demanding.

—“D-Did what?… S-Scaring the- the monster th-thing?”— you nervously reply, your voice a bit shaky. —“I-It’s not really me, it’s the being tha-that ‘owns’ me.”—

(Y/N) knew they sound like they’re crazy, like they’re out of their mind, but it’s the best way they can explain their unusual situation. It is true, the executioner practically owns them, he has the power to claim and to keep them with him, to keep anyone and anything away from something his, to keep them eternally by his side, his and no one else's.

As expected, the man on top of them only scrunched his face with confusion and disgust, definitely thinking that (Y/N) is just another crazy ex-resident of this hellish town.

—“Yeah… Right.”— he slowly says.

—“Mathew, do you still have the tape? Bring it.”—

A clear sound of a duct tape being unwrapped made them shiver, uh-oh, they’re in a big-time problem. They attempt to wiggle out and keep running, but the man above them slams their head agains the floor.

—“Keep it still bitch, we just want to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.”— he grumbles angrily and slams your head again.

(Y/N) could feel blood start dripping from their nose. Being forced to calm down since these men clearly aren't fooling around and are not afraid to hurt them if they need, they relax and allow another one to tape their wrists together behind their back, as well as their ankles.

—“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, the executioner will not have mercy…”— you comment, not even bothering to elaborate, knowing that these people are dead meat already.

—“Pff, executioner. If you’re of his property, then why were you in that room just chillin’ all by yourself?”— another man asks.

—“Because he can allow himself to do it, and because any smart creature knows to not fuck around me because of what they’ll found out.”— you say, your tone a bit sassier by the end.

—“Any smart creature, huh?”— the man that was on top of you suddenly grabs you by the throat. —“In my understanding, a smart creature will learn to shut the fuck up, I could easily cut your tongue off right now if I wanted but not sure if that will affect whatever effect you have on the monsters, so I'll give you one last chance to remain quiet, understood? You farm animal.”—

The grip on (Y/N)‘s throat was tight and it was hard to breathe, the male’s eyes were dark and cold, no hesitation in them as he said these threats, definetely not the first time he makes them. Believing his words, (Y/N) nods hurriedly as the lack of oxygen began to affect them. The man grins and let go of them roughly, basically throwing their body on the floor.

—“Aight, who’s going to carry their ass?”—

The men discuss for a short moment, until agreeing that the biggest one of them should do it. Ones everything was sorted out and (Y/N) was being manhandled in his grasp, the group resumed their walking.

The men were shocked, some of them even got smug, at the way the creatures avoided them now. What’s that? A monster does have guts to attack? A single sound or movement from (Y/N) was enough to set the creature from fight into flight. Each time something run away, the men would laugh and cackle loudly, clearly feeling like they've beat the system and are some sort of untouchable beings.

Silly bastards, they don’t know what awaits them.

It’s unclear how long they’ve been roaming around, but it was long enough for the group to get lost, again, and decide to take a rest. The man carrying (Y/N) carelessly (throws) puts them on the ground, face first, as the rest settle down as well. Non of the five bothered to talk or acknowledge (Y/N), though sometimes they would throw some random questions at them, but of course they'd never been able to finish the answer since one of the five would end up rudly interrupting them.

At some point (Y/N) began to ignore them, aware that they're nothing but a gag to these people. The youngest of the group seemed a bit pissed at being ignored, so he stands up and walks towards (Y/N)'s lying form, who was still paying no mind, and out of nowhere kicks them hard on their stomach, making the air inside of them leave in a violent exhale.

—"You talk and look at us when we speak to you."—

They say nothing, still trying to regain their breath. The man above them sighs and rolls his eyes before crouching down and grabbing them by their hair, to posteriorly pull them to their knees.

—"Listen sugar, just because you scare away the crap that lives here, it means shit to us. You're fuckin' helpless and at our mercy, so you do and act as told and when is told, understood?"—

Before (Y/N) could do anything, a sudden deafening roar resonated through the whole building and from an unknown direction. The noise similar to some huge unknown beast fiercely howling through something metallic. A shiver of anticipation ran through (Y/N)’s spine, Pyra must’ve found their drops of blood and figured out what happened, and now he’s on his way to take them back.

The other five noticeably tensed up and frantically looked around, as if trying to locate the creature through the walls...

Walls.

(Y/N)'s gaze was already focused on one of he walls, knowing that their lover would't waste his time in searching for an entrance. The man, who's still holding them by their hair, slowly drags his gaze to the same wall.

—"Guys..."— he says uneasily.

—"Yes, we heard that too, dumbass."— one of the other four hisses back.

—"No, guys, get away from the fuckin- "—

A loud crashing sound resonated behind the mentioned surface, followed by the well known heavy footsteps and scraping of metal. The other four quickly get behind the fifth and (Y/N), who was currently having the brightest grin on their face, relieved that he came for them.

—"{The fuck was that?!}"— one of the males yells half whispers to you.

—"That?"— you let a little hum as you close your eyes and look away so the dust doesn't get directly into your face. —"That is the reason why everything in here avoids me."— you say with the calmest tone possible.

—"Wha- "—

Another loud crash and a huge wave of dust cut off his question completely. While the dust was still on the air, the previous heavy footsteps were quickly approaching, making the floor shake with each step. When the men saw the silhouette of this massive unknown creature they paniced, since it showed no hits of stopping, quite the opposite actually. The one, that been holding (Y/N), pushes them roughly forward without thinking, actin on some desperate instinct.

—"Here! Take them instead!"—

The five were ready to run, but got stopped by their own shock when the monster reached out and caught (Y/N) before they fall on the ground. It was still hard to see what exactly the beast did, due to the still thick layer of dust, but the sudden loud and deep metallic growl that the beast let out was enough for them to defrost and set into running. They don't get too far though, since their legs get suddenly caught and tangled into a bunch of rusty wires and thorns coming out of the floor, whick held them still and cut their soft flesh with the mildest movement.

A small chill jolted through (Y/N) at the sight of the mysterious thorns. They knew it was Pyra's doing, he rarely used that hability of his and they learned that he only uses it when he's trully pissed. And he wasn't just that, he was livid. The sight of bruises on (Y/N)'s neck from the previous grab really railed the monster up, just how dares that filty mortal touch and mark something his? Only he has the privilege to touch (Y/N), to hold them, to look at them, to hear their voice and all the things they say in that calm and sweet tone they always use when they're happy... Just how dare they attempt to take all of this away from him? The executioner.

The monster tears the tape off (Y/N)'s wrists and ankles before putting them down, his movements a bit rough due his agitation yet he did his best to keep it under control.

He then rises to his full height, sword in hand, and slowly walks towards the group. The closer he got, the more desperate the man acted, pulling their legs out of the sharp wire-mess just for it to tangle around their limb even tighter.

The beast's first target was the youngest one, the one who had the guts to hold (Y/N) by their hair and threaten them, Pyra really didn't like that one.

The male has no time to even inhale to start begging, as the monster simply cuts him in half with his sword. (Y/N) of course didn't want to see the gore that is about to happen, so they carefuly and quietly leave the room through the hole their beast of a man made durning his enrance. The last thing they've seen before leaving was Pyra practically tearing one of the man up apart like paper, going specially slow to inflict even more pain.

(Y/N) is unsure how long it took Pyra to finish them, they simply remained sitted on the floor with their legs pressed against their chest and covering their ears to silence the screams and the wet gory sounds of muscles and bones breaking. They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly pulled up by a pair of large arms and is pressed agains a broad torso. Pyra held (Y/N) in this posessive embrace for quite a while, the mildes movement from them would make the beast growl and press them even closer.

(Y/N) however, still attempted to soothe their lover by gently nuzzling agains his chest and rub it with their hand.

—"I am so sorry..."— you apologize, though you both knew it wasn't really your fault. —"I was just hanging out in that room we've been before, and... And these people entered there while running away from another beast, and- "—

They couldn't finish the explanation since Pyra suddenly shoved their face further into his chest, muffing the rest of their little rant. The action, which embarassed (Y/N) a bit, also made them understand that their lover doesn't need any excuses or explanations, he's content to have them back and unharmed. They sigh softly and eventually relax in his grasp and going practically rag doll, in response and after some time, Pyra's body also relaxed a bit, yet his grip on (Y/N) remained strong and firm like iron, refusing to let go.

—"Pyra."— you manage to move yout head just enough to say it.

A low grumble resonated from his helmet and chest, though it didn't sound hostile, more like his version of 'hhmm?'.

—"I love you, thank you for being around."— you say honestly, as you move just enough to reach his neck area and kiss the little skin exposed between his clothes and helmet.

The little sweet gesture was answered with a low purr as Pyra's large hands roam around their body for a bit, caressing and feeling each curve through their clothes. The touches weren't suggestive surprisingly, which meant that this affection was genuine and not the product of his monstrous lust towards them.

They both stay like this for a while longer, (Y/N) saying and whispering things in a soft tone that Pyra absolutely adored to hear, and he kept holding them against himself, pawing their body time to time just to feel them more. Their warmth, their pulse, their breathing...

To feel them.

To feel them being all H̸̫̥͙̮͍̮͋͑Ḯ̴͓̦̻͈̜͍̇̃͋͠S̴͖̘̍̓̉̑.

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp Prompt #29

Okay! I have seen plenty of prompts on both tumblr and Ao3 to think of one of biggest misunderstandings that I could think of for Dc x Dp.

Amity Park being mistaken for a base camp for training child soldiers.

Because think of it!

Mr. Lancer's class all going to Gotham and being unphased by everything that was happening. In fact, some of them seemed even excited at the possibility of interacting with a rogue or possibly fighting them. And teacher did nothing but give them light warnings about causing too much trouble.

Of course it was thought to be big talk from outsiders who didn't know how dangerous Gotham truly was. Once they dealt with their first villain, they'd see how much trouble they really were in for.

But the thing was, they didn't.

Oh, they dealt with a criminal alright. It was the Penguin. He held up one of the museums the class was touring for some priceless item that he wanted.

Of course, Penguin thought that the group of newcomers were going to cow under the sight of the criminal and his goons. But standing there, he immediately found out of wrong he was.

The group didn't look scared. No. They looked excited at the sight of him and his goons.

A few of the teens were brimming with excitement at the sight of the criminal, though a few did look a bit disappointed. Not afraid-disappointed! He heard a few whispers of how upset that "the Joker wasn't the one to show" or "how they expected someone else to show up". Those words were enough to make his blood boil.

You know what? Screw these kids! He was going to show them that The Penguin wasn't someone you just go around and make fun of. So, he orders a few goons to put the kids in their place. Confident that once they were thrown around a bit, they'd know what kind of trouble they're in for when they come to Gotham.

But they. Don't. Get. Scared!

Not even a little bit. Not even a small flinch. He swore that he saw a few of them yawn! If the threat of roughening up wasn't going to do anything, then some action would definitely was. A goon thought this as they reached out to try and grab one of the students. Unfortunately, that student he grabbed was Valerie Gray, and she didn't take well to some stranger trying to grab her like that. Well, one shoulder throw lead to a brawl between gangsters and a bunch a teens that were touring around. And, to the horror of both the Penguin and all Gothamites watching, the teens won. All goons were seen on the floor either groaning or unconscious, the teens above them looking satisfied with their work, and their teacher on the sidelines looking irritated of the whole thing. Thankfully, the police arrived not too soon after that to arrest the goons and the penguins themselves; leaving all Gothamites confused about what just happened.

And it didn't stop there.

All over Gotham, both civilians and rogues alike would experience the oddity that would be the Amity bunch.

A barista witnessed Paulina stop a robbery with a well practiced kick in her high heels, all while the girl muttered about her morning coffee before going back to her order like nothing happened.

An old woman was saved from a mugging by a group of jocks. Though seeing as one stopped it by grabbing the mugger by the scruff of his neck, she supposed that the blond was the only one that she needed. And multiple civilians all over Gotham took note of a black haired and blue eyed kid that walked around with a goth girl and a boy with a red beanie. If he wasn't mistaken as a Wayne kid, he was causing havoc that had him on the news either way. Already the kid was caught fighting the Joker twice on purpose! As if he didn't seem crazy enough.

Strength, not scared by any of the rogues, even openly fighting the rouges? This class was continuing to grow on the "do not mess with" the longer they're in Gotham with everything they do.

And if you were to ask their teacher, he would simply sigh and say "There's so much he could do to control those hellions." It wasn't long before the Wayne family caught onto their arrival, and became immediately suspicious. A group of teens with abilities like that and fighting both rogues and goons as if they were nothing wasn't a mere coincidence. And from a place called Amity Park that's supposed to be the most "Haunted Place on Earth", there's no way something fishy going on.

Bruce, Tim, and Damian are the first to believe that they are all child soldiers of some sort. The youngest pointing out that Danny was one possibly meant to infiltrate their family for an unknown reason. The rest of the family are still cautious, but still don't know what they are here for.

Now they just had to get close enough to find out the reason the class was really here without setting off any alarms the possible assassins could have.

But they didn't take account the total weirdness they might face in infiltrating the class.

[mrsparrasblog]

Makarov x John Price daughter pt.3.

Pt.1. Pt. 2 PT.4

Tw: Stockholm Syndrom, Daddy issues, smut

You were already two weeks here; you couldn’t believe that it had been so long since you got kidnapped in this kind of life. You didn’t see Vlad often, and you slowly craved his contact. You were lonely; the only human things near you were your scary Russian bulky guards.

They didn’t communicate with you, touch you, or even look at you. Maybe because it would be a death sentence for them to even touch you. You were Vlad's property, and everyone knew it.

Only you didn’t know about the power you actually had. Well, you couldn’t leave because you would get killed by the guards or put in the basement. But if you were only a bit smarter, you would have realized that the guards didn’t have permission to kill you; only shots in your legs were allowed, where they could be healed. Why would Makarov want his beautiful future wife dead?

You wondered why your dad hadn't saved you already. Aunt Kate always told you about an elite team he leads that saves hostages all the time, but why not you? Why were you still here, and with every following day, your hope was reduced to finally nothing? He won't save you.

--------------------

On day 22, you finally crumbled. You were so desperate for human interactions that you searched for Makarov. You tried to ask your guards, but of course, they didn’t answer. You were asking yourself if it was because of the lack of English or because they just wanted to ignore you. Either way, you needed to find him on your own.

After a bit of wandering, you reached his office; at least this was the room that smelled the most of his rich, scented cologne. When you entered the room, the hardwood tiles cracked under your weight, and why were you sweating so much? He wouldn’t kill you, right? He would have already done it if he wanted to.

"Oh, got bored, Princess? “

You walked inside, and you almost forgot how unbelievably attractive he was, even more now with his priceless suit. You had a thing for men in suits, but for your kidnapper, really, were you so desperate? Obvious yes.

You noticed a man was completely beaten up; blood streamed from his face; he hadn’t got many fingers left; he looked horrifying overall; some of Vlad's men stood beside him; he was as bloody as the man on the chair, but it wasn’t his blood. You were fucking afraid looking over Vlad with your big teary eyes.

���Shh Princess, come sit on my lap,“ you obeyed, sitting down on his lap, ruining his perfect suit with wrinkles. He traced down his fingers alongside the thin dress you chose today—his unbelievable selection for you. His hard-on was pressing against your perfectly shaped ass, making you wonder if he had one because you sat down on his lap or because a man was tortured in front of him; he was fucking crazy.

His delicate fingers traced down the hem of your dress up to your soft thighs. “I see you like the lingerie I got you,“ he smirked as if you had any choice anyway; all of your clothing was basically his; it was his mercy that you’re still alive. His hand slowly wandered to the lacy fabric of your panties, finding them wet to your embarrassment.

You pushed your thighs together; you couldn’t let him touch you. There, he kidnapped you. What would your dad think about you? And especially not in front of a poor tortured man. You didn’t know what he did, but maybe he wasn’t innocent; maybe he deserved it. Vlad always had his reasons. Stop. You can't justify his acts. What’s wrong with you? You asked yourself all over again. Why did you have a small blink of sympathy for him?

He pushed your thighs apart. „Open up, Princess; there is no need to be shy." You thought it would be better to listen to him

„Если ты посмотришь на нее, я убью тебя.“ He said it in Russian, and the guard only nodded, continuing to torture the man in front of you. He ripped off the straps of your summer dress, revealing to you what you knew all over again - He wouldn’t be a gentle lover, not in the slightest.

Your breasts were now fully exposed, just as your thong was ripped apart.

It had something strange about you being completely exposed on top of him, and he sat there still wearing his expensive suit. The guard didn’t look at you for a second, which made you feel at ease, at least.

Vlad cupped your breasts, roughly playing with your nipples, pinching them hard, only making you shudder under his touch. „Mhm,“ you moaned, getting embarrassed at the same time. How do you get so easily flustered?

„Извините за отвлечение, мой питомец требует моего внимания“ (Im sorry for the disturbance, my pet needed attention) he said to the tortured man and continued to ask him questions, but not for a second he left his thick palms from your sensitive hard nipples.

The wetness between your thighs only becomes more evident with each second, while your resistance and embarrassment became less. Your slick flowered down from your thighs, making a big mess on his expensive suit pants. "So eager, Princess ?“

You could only moan as a reaction to not being able to talk properly, but he didn’t start to rub your pleading clit. God, he was probably the kind of guy who wanted to make you beg for his touch, but you had enough dignity to not beg, but you hadn’t got enough dignity to not start to rub your throbbing cunt against his thigh.

He noticed it and flexed his thigh, so you felt more pressure while he continued to pinch your nipples. His lips occasionally brushed your neck, leaving small kisses and, more importantly, bites on your neck, showing everyone that you were his property.

„God, Vlad, please,“ you whined as you rubbed yourself harder against him, his thighs hitting your clit all over again, making you wince and squeal.

With a firm grip, he kept you in your place. Your whimpers only fueled his desire towards you; his erect cock was pressing hard against you, begging to finally be in his rightful place.

He glanced down at the mess you made, your juices staining the expensive fabric of the suit. His grin turned into a smirk as he realized that you were indeed the perfect plaything for him. You may not be as powerful as him or psychotic, but you were naughty enough to satisfy his sick desires. He thought about how to reward your brazen display later. Maybe he would try for the first time to eat a woman out; he never knew the appeal, but with you, he wanted you to feel pleasure. He was fucking proud of how he made you squirm just with his leg; he occasionally shook his leg, making you clit whine in happiness.

The tortured man dared to look at your cunt and before you even realized what was happening, Vlad spoke in a cruel voice to him, „Ублюдок, почему ты смотрел на мою жену?“ (Bastard, why did you look at my wife?) He gestured to the guard and told him something in Russian. You didn’t notice it; you were too caught up in almost bringing yourself to release.

The guard took some kind of trinket and poured it into the eyes of the tortured man. The man screamed in shock, and you scrunched, afraid like a dear, hugging Vlad for comfort. The person you were most afraid of was the one you searched comfort for; it was so twisted. „Shh, princess, turn around. I'll protect you like your dad couldn't.“

You turned around now, sitting with your face towards him. From your beautiful eyes fell tears, and he flicked them away with his tongue. The desire to kiss him in search of comfort was so high. „Thank you, Vlad.“

He only nodded, and you tried your best to blend out the sounds of the tortured man. Vlad's hand slowly went down on you, trying to calm you down, and it worked. Like a love-drunk girl, you pressed yourself harder against his fingers, who drew circles around your clit making you shake so desperately. “ Oh god, Vlad.“

„Such a good girl for me, so eager for her Daddy’s enemy,“ he grinned wickedly as he slowly put two of his delicate fingers in your pleading hole, making you squirm again. He started to scissor his fingers lazily inside of you, still fully concentrated on getting the answers out of the man. You asked yourself how he could still be so calm while you were a whimpering mess.

The bulge of his cock pressed against your ass, giving you even more pleasure than his hands already did to you. He started to search for that spongy spot in your gummy walls, a spot many men had missed before, but he immediately found it, making you scream in pleasure, and he only chuckled darkly at your needy responses.

„Mhm, so close, Vlad.“

For a second, you were afraid that he would deny you the satisfaction of an orgasm, but he added a third finger, fingering you against your sweet spot while holding you still, so you couldn't escape the pleasure.

„Cum for me, Pet,“ and you did. With a final pump of his fingers, you reached the most intense orgasm of your life. Coating his suit with your juices, he let you ride out your orgasm.

He pulled out his fingers after you calmed down and licked his fingers clean, letting out a growl as he tasted your delicious taste. Vlad gave you his dress shirt so you could walk back to your room in dignity. As he removed his dress shirt, you couldn’t stop staring at his exposed chest; it was filled with tattoos, and you wanted to scratch down and kiss every inch of it.

„Like what you see, моя жена?“ (My wife)

„Yes“

„You will see it often enough, and now go. I have a business to do.“

———————————————

In the following days, you felt guilty for allowing it and confused. You should have been afraid of him, but he never hunted you. Okay, he kidnapped you, but still, he didn't beat you or torture you. That's nice, right?

He walked inside your room a few weeks later.

„моя жена“

„What does that mean?“

„Not important, princess, I got you something.“

„I have more than enough material things, Vlad.“

„It's not material; I know how much you loved your study as a midwife; I brought you the best private teacher; when you’re bored, you can continue; and a Russian teacher is necessary for you to learn Russian.“

You couldn’t believe it. Your dad didn’t even support you when he wasn’t even around, and Vlad just bought a private teacher for you. „That's the nicest thing someone ever did for me.“

———���——————————————

Learning Russian was hard, but you managed better than you thought, getting better and better every day, much to the liking of Vlad. He always praised you for something you yearned your whole life for.

„моя жена, you deserve a reward. What do you want?“

„You already gave me so much,“ you said, blindly forgetting that he did in fact not do everything for you; you hadn’t been at your work for 4 months now, the place you loved, and you hadn’t seen your dad, and you still yearned so much for him; you loved him after all more than anything. If a therapist had looked at you, he would have noticed how, in your heart, you were still a little kid fighting for the approval of your dad, and since you didn’t get it, you searched for it from another man, and you got it from Vlad. And he would tell you you had the biggest case of Stockholm syndrome he ever witnessed, but you weren’t a therapist.

„No everything for my моя жена“

„I want to dance ballet again.“

„Perfect, I'll get you the best teacher in Russia."

——————————————————-

And he did. Another month passed, and you became better than you ever were before, enjoying the time dancing so much. You told Vlad how your dad hadn’t seen one of your Ballet performances and how it always made you sad since he was at the fencing events of Tina.

Needless to say, the next day, a tutu was placed in your room, and you were performing Clara from The Nutcracker in front of him. You cried after the performance, and he praised you for how elegant his wife was. You noticed yourself referring to him slowly as your husband. Every day you forget more and more that you weren’t free; in your mind, you were free.

After the performance, you spend the whole night in his room, thanking him for being so nice to you.

—————————————————-

One time he wasn’t returning home for five days. You were panting and afraid. You locked yourself in your room, not leaving it for a second, only to open the door for your food and drink order from your servants. You noticed the sting in your heart. What if he found someone better? What if he left you? What if someone killed him?

After the 5 Day, he came back blood-covered, and without a word, you cleaned him up with a gesture he never allowed someone else. He was vulnerable around you, and this was the first time you stayed with him, only cuddling him and making out with him, something neither of you believed could ever happen.

———————————————————

After the accident, he told the guards that you had full permission to command them, and you felt easier when he left. The power felt nice at first until you met the man who got your Vlad so bloody, and you ordered the guards to kill him.

Now blood covered your innocent fingers; you killed for him; you were a monster; you sobbed for hours before Vlad came in; he was disgusted at your weakness but somehow intrigued at the same time you killed for him, something that meant so much for the emotionless men.

————————————————————

9 months

„Vlad, is my dad dead?“ You asked him. How could he care so little that he didn’t save his daughter? You thought, but he loved you. Maybe he died on deployment.

„No, моя жена, he isn't dead; he just - its hard, but he doesn’t want to fight to get you back,“ he said with a sorry expression. His eyes got you so manipulated that you believed him, oblivious to the fact that your dad and his team burned the world down to find you. They didn’t act anymore on rules; your father left a kill count in the nine months bigger than in his 20 years in the army. But how could you know?

That day you cried in his arms for hours, and he listened to your rambling, and you knew Vlad would never leave you. He is about you, and you shouldn’t resent him; he treats you better than anyone else in your life.

——————————————————-

„Why do I need to wear this dress, Vlad?“ You asked while you wore a dress in the price range of a house in London. It was sewn for you and filled with little gemstones; it suited you, and you never felt more beautiful before.

„We are going out.“

„Outside ?“ You couldn’t believe it; you weren’t in the real world for over a year, only in the mansion and the garden.

„Yes, I show you Moscow.“

You were so happy, and Moscow was indeed the most beautiful place on earth. You knew now that you were 100% free; he left you alone. You could have run away, but you didn't. You were there.

To your surprise, he fell on his knees in front of you, a gesture he never did before; it was weakness, and he had no weakness well besides you; you were his only weakness, and this would stay this way.

„Princess, we have been together for over a year now. Would you give me the honor to become my wife?“

A year ago, you would have said no, but now you want to be his wife, so you nod and start to cry.

He finally had what he wanted: revenge on John Price, a queen of his empire and soon an heir

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce

[prettyfastcars]

you're wrong but you're so much fun | Lewis x Reader

Summary: With your mom and his dad dating, of course you would be spending Christmas and New Year under the same roof as Lewis. As annoying as your ‘stepbrother’ was, you often found yourself unable to resist his charm. But enough is enough you decided, you were done with him acting like he was superior. So you found yourself a guy to casually date for a little while, to distract you, but also to help you win whatever game was going on between you and Lewis. And the latter was not happy at all when he found out about the other man in your life. 

Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, jealous!lewis, bondage, mild degrading kink, dom!reader

a/n: if you want, you can read part 1 and part 2 !! Also, I’ll see you after new years now, bye bye <3

“Who were you on the phone with last night?” 

You weren’t even done filling your plate up at the breakfast table when Lewis hit you with the accusatory tone. 

Both your parents were in the cabin this morning. Maybe the kitchen if they hadn’t moved since you last saw them just minutes ago. You could hear faint whispers of their voices and laughter, so chances were that they could still hear you and Lewis. 

However, since it was just you and Lewis at the table, of course he would resort to being mean and a bully for no reason. 

“A friend.” You replied, “Why?” 

Lewis sighed, “Because your bedroom is right next to mine and I can’t sleep if you’re giggling all night.” He sounded like the brat you thought he was. 

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll giggle quietly from now on.” You paused for a moment then added, “Although I don’t remember you minding me being loud that night when you comforted me during the thunderstorm, or the other day when you were giving me fashion advice in my bathroom.” 

He glared at you. “Shut your mouth.” 

You smirked at him. Even threw in a little wink. 

— 

Lewis ignored you the whole day. But that was until your mom suddenly asked you at lunch, “Hey honey, when can we meet that boy you told me about?” 

The silence which followed was heavy. 

You answered, “I don’t see why you need to meet him,” You said, purposely ignoring the confused look from Lewis, “We’re not seriously dating, it’s just… you know? A casual, temporary thing.” You ended by shoving food in your mouth. 

Lewis cleared his voice and tried to act as natural, calm and not confused as he asked, “Where did you meet this boy?” 

“Online,” You answered, and gave him a few details he didn’t ask for. “He’s staying at a nearby cabin with his friends so we’ve just been casually talking.” You added, “We have plans to meet up soon but our schedules just aren’t aligning.” 

You locked eyes with Lewis after that. You could hear your mother saying how it would be a good idea to invite the boy over when you would be having a bonfire soon, but you barely paid attention. The look on Lewis’ face, the realisation that he did not in fact control everything you do was priceless. 

You had the upperhand in this game for once, and you loved it. 

The two of you didn’t interact much after that. But you could feel Lewis’ eyes on you the whole time you were around each other. For some reason, even when you were in different corners of a room, he would still glare at you. 

Neither of you ended up even remotely close to one another that night. Which was good because he was getting on your nerves with all that staring. 

However, the following night, Lewis walked into your room all ready to piss you off some more. Maybe even to remind you that you can’t just be messing around with some random boy. But then he froze the moment he entered your room and shut the door behind him. 

There you were, standing in front of the full-length mirror next to your bed, wearing nothing but dark green, lacy underwear, and a matching excuse of a bra. See-through all of it, looking like it was some sizes too small for the amount of skin that was on display. 

But that wasn’t what bothered him. No. What bothered him was that you had your phone in your hand. He also noticed the polaroid camera on the bed. 

He saw red for a brief moment. His brain short-circuited. Fuck. 

Meanwhile you were the opposite of ashamed or embarrassed when you saw him. Having him in your room at this time, wearing nothing but his usual grey sweatpants, meant that your parents were out with their friends. 

Which means Lewis probably thought he was gonna act like he owns and controls you again. But you were ready this time. You’d had enough. 

“Oh hello there.” You said, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just walk in on you basically taking nudes. You refused to seem inferior to him anymore. He wanted to play this game? Fine, but you were determined to win this round. 

Lewis finally blinked, breaking out of whatever reverie he was in, and said, “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You turned to face him, confidently. He tried to avoid looking at you but then he gave in. Eyes roaming all over your body. You shivered for a moment, physically feeling his stare. But then you refused to let him win again. 

“You really should knock before coming into a lady’s room, Lewis.” You spoke with fake defencelessness. “Now look, you’ve caught me all vulnerable.” You pouted a little, knowing you were pissing him off. 

“You–,” He stopped talking and sighed, shaking his head. He looked at you, then at the phone in your hand, then at the polaroid camera and the photographs on the bed. “Stop this shit, alright? Else I’m gonna tell your mom.” 

You chuckled. He sounded like a kid. “Oh Lewis,” You cooed, “I’m a grown woman with a job, who earns her own money.” You stated, “If I want to take pictures of myself in lingerie that I bought, I don’t see why anyone, least of all you, should have a problem with that.” 

Lewis finally moved away from the door, stepping further into your space. Getting gradually closer to you he said, “Right.” He admitted. “I don’t have a problem with you taking pictures of yourself, but…” He leaned closer, you stood your ground even if seeing his broad shoulders, big muscles, tattoos made part of you want to roll over and offer yourself like a soft puppy for him to play with. “Who the fuck are these pictures being sent to?” 

You gave him a smug look, “That’s none of your–,” 

He cut you off by grabbing you by the throat and pulled you closer, squeezing just a little. You’d be lying if you said your body didn’t instantly react to that. You felt the need to clench your thighs together. 

“Oh I think it is.” He spoke calmly even though there was a fiery jealousy in his pretty brown eyes. “You think I haven't noticed?” He questioned. “Texting all the time, smiling at your phone, even using your phone at the dinner table.” He listed all that he had noted. “You’re gonna stop talking to that guy.” 

You scoffed, even though he had a hand wrapped around your throat, you sassed, “You can’t tell me what to do, big bro.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Can’t I?” 

You persisted, “No.” You whispered, “I am done letting you boss me around.” You caught the slight frown on his handsome face. Gods… why did he have to be so handsome? 

“Is that so, little sis?” He teased, pushing you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed. “You’re gonna talk back, now? Hmm? You’re gonna argue with big brother?”

That mocking tone of his was pissing you off. And he was much stronger than you so the only way you could overpower him would be if you caught him off guard. You moved when he least expected it. You twisted the two of you around and pushed him down onto the bed instead. 

Lewis frowned when he fell on his back on your bed. He went to get up but you were already straddling him at that point so he couldn’t get up. He didn’t want to either. This was new, he had never had you be on top of him before. 

You wrapped your hands around his ridiculously muscular, attractive neck this time, pinning him down onto the bed. Lewis was partially confused but partially turned on. You could feel it. The erection in his pants pressing up against you. 

You stared down at him, ignoring the way his hands felt free to touch and rub and caress your skin. Ignoring how good it felt, you said, “I’m done letting you treat me like I’m some petulant little girl you need to keep in check.” 

He smirked, “Well you’re acting like one right now.” He said, grabbing onto your hips, “Just let me–,” 

You cut him off, “You talk too much, you know that? And your hands wander too much as well.” You thought about it for a moment, then came up with a plan. Glaring down at Lewis you said, “Stay put.” You warned as you went to get off of him. But seeing his smirk and knowing he would try to get the upper hand again, you had no choice but to grab his hand and guide it in between your legs. 

Lewis frowned, mumbled a quiet “Fuck…” when he felt your warmth, your wetness. All for him. His fingers felt free to feel around down there. You let him, for now. 

“I said, stay put.” You repeated. “Be a good boy, and only then can you keep playing with this. You hear me?” You whispered, smirking at the look on his face. He was surprised of course, but he was into it. 

So he rolled his eyes and dropped back down onto your bed. Folding his muscular hands behind his head, he waited. You got off the bed but then stood and admired his physique for a moment. 

Golden skin. Tattoos on display. Braids untied. Muscles bulging from places you didn’t know the human body had muscles… Lewis of course didn’t mind your ogling. He loved the attention. 

You forced yourself to move upon seeing the smug look on his face. Who does he think he is? A handsome man with the body of a Greek god, that's who. 

You rummaged around your drawers until you found what you’d been looking for. And when you brought it over to your bed, Lewis began chuckling. 

“Aww what are you gonna do with that? Tie me up with a pretty bow?” He taunted, looking at the white ribbon strips in your hands. 

You smirked. “Did you know I know how to do shibari ties? You’re lucky there’s no actual rope around.” Lewis’ smile dropped when you climbed on top of him again. You chuckled, “Scared, big bro?” You teased. 

For once, he didn’t fight back. Mostly because he was also lowkey excited to see where this was going. 

You moved up his body, straddling his chest as you grabbed his wrists and tied them together with the white ribbons. Once secured, Lewis let out a breathless chuckle when you then went to tie his wrists to the metal headboard. “You’re insane,” He commented. “You really think I can’t get out of that?” 

“I’d like to see you try.” You scoffed, confident in your skills. “The ties are strong, but if you struggle too much, the silk ribbon will surely burn your skin. We don’t want that, do we?” 

Lewis glared at you, soft lips parted as he breathed slightly more heavily. 

You even added a little bow to complete the look. “There,” You said, satisfied with how strong the ties were. Not tight, but definitely locked. “You wanna see how it looks?” You grabbed the polaroid camera which was on the bed and took a picture. The photograph came out and you waved it around, blowing on it. Taking your sweet time and ignoring the gorgeous man under you. “That’ll take a while to develop, but trust me, you’ve never looked better.” You winked at him. 

“You’re gonna regret this, little sis.” He whispered dangerously, hissing in pleasure as you dragged your nails lightly up and down his exposed torso. Tracing his abs and his tattoos with the tip of your finger. Running your hands all over his chest. “Damn you.” He spoke through gritted teeth as you dug your nails in his sides playfully. 

You reached down to lower his sweatpants, and as you did, his cock stood proud and tall. Already leaking at the tip and you had barely touched him yet.

“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Walking into my room whenever you feel like it, with that pretty face and sinful body…” You leaned down to kiss that compass tattoo in the middle of his chest. 

He let out a breathy laugh, “So you do think I’m pretty.” 

You looked up and glared at him. “Don’t make me gag you to shut you up, Lewis.” You warned. 

He smirked, scoffing. “Yeah right.” 

Part of you wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“You know what? I don’t wanna hear you talk.” You got off of him and quickly took your underwear off before straddling him again. His cock remained hard, untouched and leaking. Looking irresistible. But you needed him to shut up first so you balled up the dark green material and shoved it into his mouth. 

Lewis laughed as you did, fully prepared to spit it back out. But that was until you grabbed the remaining ribbons and tied it around his head, keeping the balled up thong inside his mouth as you tied yet another bow at the front of his now gagged mouth. 

You picked up the polaroid camera again and took another picture of him. “Smile,” You taunted, capturing him tied up with white bows and gagged. “So pretty,” You murmured as you put both camera and photograph aside. 

He looked up at you with unrestrained lust in his warm eyes. He wasn’t fighting back as hard as you had imagined he would, you noticed. 

You smiled triumphantly as you rolled your hips against him, feeling his hard cock against your wet inner thighs. “Oh fuck…” You whispered, smiling when you heard his muffled groan. You could feel that familiar tingle in between your legs. And you were ready to just fuck him but, you wanted to mess with him first. 

You gave him a soft kiss on the bow right on top of his mouth, he struggled against the knots at his wrists, but you ignored him and reached down to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned, closing his eyes and thrusting up into your fist. 

You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin leisurely, not rushing even though he was squirming under you, his moans and groans muffled. 

“You see how nice it is, when you shut the fuck up and stop being mean to me?” You teased, biting down on his neck while your hand moved up and down his dripping cock. You liked the sounds of his muffled moans. He was somehow more vocal now that he was gagged. 

Lewis groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just took whatever you gave him.

At one point you checked in with him, asking, “Does anything hurt?” You pointed at his tied wrist and mouth. He glared at you with annoyance and desire in his eyes and silently shook his head. “Good,” You gave him another soft kiss on the nose before continuing. 

You released his cock, kissing down his body and bringing your mouth closer to where he desperately needed you. You smirked when you felt him squirm even more when you kissed him on his hip bones and all over his lower abdomen. 

You heard him groan, a muffled “Please…” escaping his mouth. 

You giggled at the sound of that, “Oh what’s that? Was that a ‘please’?” You watched him for a moment. Watched how he rolled his eyes at you, thrusting his hips up just trying to get you to touch him. “You’re learning your manners already, I see.” 

Then without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. Slowly. Lewis’ loud, muffled moans filled the room. You sucked on his tip, your tongue teasing him as you felt your body tingling with need too.

You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, as he tilted his head back. He looked even more ravishing, completely at your mercy for a change. It made you feel powerful. 

He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to make him come just yet. You licked his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Lewis moaned, his voice muffled still, making him sound needy and desperate. 

You dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily, causing him to thrust his hips up. You were driving him crazy and you loved it. 

Lewis moaned even louder the moment you pulled your mouth away, lifted up and sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him making him groan. Your walls clenched around him, making both of you let out guttural moans. 

You leaned in and kissed his closed eyelids, cupping his face in your hands as you slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him deep inside you. “Fuck… why do you have to feel so good, huh?” You chuckled when he tried to pull against the white ribbon strips, but all in vain. “Guess I did successfully tie you up with a bow, didn’t I?” 

You heard a rare whine from him. He sounded so vulnerable, and desperate that it made you speed up as you rode his cock. Your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. You watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness. 

“Not so cocky now, are you?” You teased. “Beg for it, come on.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth, lips hovering above the white bow. “Oh what? You can’t?” You laughed, “You can’t even beg, can you?”

Lewis groaned louder. His desperation was quite clear. And he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your pace. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.

Soon, Lewis was just a moaning mess under you. Cock throbbing inside you, moans muffled, his hands just gave up trying to break free from your ties. But fuck he was a vision… 

Lewis got loud, growling as you teased him, riding his cock perfectly. There was nothing else he could focus on in that moment. 

You eventually gave in. “Are you ready to come for me?” You asked, looking deep into his eyes. His pleading stare told you he was. “Go on then, come inside me, big bro.” 

He was so close anyway that he came right after. His moans begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast as you came as well, clenching around him violently. 

You caught your breath for a minute, then quickly untied his hands and pulled the thong from his mouth. You leaned in to kiss him, slow and gentle this time. “You did so good,” You murmured against his soft lips. “Who knew you’d be such a good boy the moment you’re tied up?” 

Lewis kissed you back lazily. Quiet, for once. He didn’t have a sassy reply this time. His hands hesitated to wander this time, only barely brushing against your thighs. 

You kissed his warm, damp chest, murmuring, “If you want us to keep doing this, you’re gonna stop being mean all the time, alright?” You looked up to see him watching you with a strangely calm look on his face. 

“Fine,” He muttered, like it was an inconvenience to him. 

You scoffed, “Look at you pretending you didn’t like being tied up.” He avoided your eyes immediately and you couldn’t help but laugh. But then you remembered… 

Straddling him once more, you reached for the polaroid photographs. “Aww,” You cooed, showing them to him, “Look how pretty you look, white bows and all.” 

Lewis just groaned and shoved you aside. You laughed as you landed beside him on your bed. You expected him to get up and walk out of your room but he stayed put. Processing, maybe. 

“Here,” You handed the polaroids to him as you tangled your legs with his upon turning on your side to look at him, “Keep them.” 

Lewis reluctantly took them then sighed and said, “I hate you.” 

You checked the mental scoreboard and there it was, a first win for you. “I know you don’t.” You winked at him. 

[stardustedseas]

I’m rereading your ford x reader stuff and just imagining fidds having to deal with his lovesick roommate

ohhhhhhhhhhh this is so silly delicious chefs kiss

ive been swamped in college and life shit so I havnt really wrote anything but this is too good to not instantly brain rot over

ford would be So annoying, fiddleford is this close to getting a new roomate at times ToT he isnt sure whats worse, pre-relationship or in-relationship ford, both come with their own unique annoyances ajwokwjdh pre relationship is nights spent awake because stanford will just mumble to himself non stop about how beautiful and wonderful you are but how you two shouldnt get in a relationship rn but youre just so <333 but there are too many negative factors to concider with your ages and being in school still but the way your eyes light up like the sun when your excited makes his heart beat out of his chest but-

fidds feels like he is watching the worlds most annoying interactive romance movie.

he def tries to pep talk ford into just asking you out, the worst that could happen is you say no, so just go for it!!!! cough its for slightly selfish reasons fidds is so sick of The Rambles cough

when you two do start dating, the all night rambles to himself slow down a lot but instead its replaced by too many burnt dinners, stripped screws and pens so chewed on they explode ink all over to be concidered a win, all because the lovesick fool cant stop thinking about you and ends up getting so lost in thought he fucks something up by not paying attention. now, fiddleford is very glad you two are finally together and so in love! but! good god! someone save him from this madness

and when you two have a fight? it doesnt matter if ford is right and youre wrong, he may not wake up the next morning because fiddleford suffocated him in his sleep because he is So Fucking Annoying. fidds knows more about yalls relationship than hed like and has spent way too long listening to ford rant and rave about whats going on, what you two started fighting over and how he is absolutely right but you refuse to see it. yes this is more important than sleep, mcgucket 🙄 just do like he does and drink a pot of coffee its fine, now listen to how this argument went but worded slightly different

it can be very funny at times tho, hes pretty sure ford is about to start giggling kicking his feet and twirling his hair when you come over LMAO and how absolutely flustered the usually very well put together young man gets when you even just give him a small kiss on the cheek? priceless

fiddleford really is happy you two have eachother tho, before and after you start dating, its nice seeing his best friend find a person as great as you. you make him so happy and bring him out of his shell more than fidds has really ever seen, while he does still spend too much time holed up studying or working on something or other, he does seem to go out more, take better care of his hygiene and even eat more proper meals, especially if you make them. you bring out a side of ford that not many ppl get to see and if he's being honest, it more than makes up for all the annoying shit fidds has went through because of you lmfaoo

[lovelynim]

All's fair in love and war

Honkai Star Rail - Aventurine x Caelus

A/N: This time I'm happy to post an official commission for none other than @eliankrios himself. Thanks for being such a kind customer and for your patience and understanding!!! I hope you like it!

Summary: Countering Aventurine's luck takes more than just skill, but if you're going to play dirty, you shouldn't let yourself get caught...

Word count: 2975 words

Caelus was ticklish - a fact that Aventurine happened to discover by accident, but one that he was particularly interested in. 

The problem, however, resided in the fact that there wasn’t a way to test it by himself. Aventurine had met Caelus not long ago during his business trip in Penacony and his interactions with the mr. Stellaron were limited to a few flirts or really-well-intended gifts. Tickle him was not an option - at least, not until now.

“W-what?” Caelus gasped, nearly choking on the SoulGlad - which Aventurine bought him - and smiling shyly, looking at the man next to him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No,” Aventurine chuckled charmingly, resting his head on his hand. “I’m just curious about it, my friend, and I decided to make a move. Maybe 20.000 will do, then?” He smirked, loving the flustered face on the other guy’s face. This was a bold move, but Caelus didn’t push him away so… there could be a chance. And who better than Aventurine in taking risks?

“I-I’m not talking about money,” Caelus mumbled, placing the bottle down on the counter. “You can’t… buy your way into tickling me, that would be weird,” he explained, surprised at the words that were coming out of his mouth. Caelus never expected to use them in the same sentence, but here he was.

“Hmm, would it?” Aventurine looked away, pretending to think about it. Of course he expected Caelus to refuse such an offer - he wasn’t really the prude kind of guy, but being offered money in exchange for getting tickled would set anyone off. “I apologize then, friend. Could there be another way?”

“Another… way? Of tickling me?” Caelus’s upper lip twitched slightly, only finding this situation more and more confusing. No one ever needed… a way. It would be just him fooling around his friends and it happened. And Aventurine was his friend. Why couldn’t he just do it… normally? “I…”

Aventurine chuckled again, sitting upright before finishing his drink, placing the cup over a couple of bills. “Hahah, your face is priceless. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to weird you out. Forge-”

“Wait,” Caelus said, with a hint of excitement in his voice. His eyes sparkled, as if he just had an idea. 

Aventurine arched his eyebrow, tilting his glasses a bit and looking over them to meet Caelus’s eyes. “Hm? Do you want another drink, my friend?”

“No, not that,” Caelus chuckled, shaking his head, “you can tickle-”

A gasp left Aventurine’s mouth, unable to hide the content he felt by hearing those words. “Oh, really? Hahah, why did you change your mind, my-”

Just as he was about to reach for Caelus, he moved his hands around and grabbed Aventurine’s wrist instead. The confidence in his smirk sent a shiver down Aventurine’s eyes - he knew that kind of expression. It was the kind of expression people made when betting all the chips in their hands. The blonde felt his heart skip a beat and looked down to Caelus’s hand tightly holding his wrist.

“If,” Caelus added, “you can beat me in a game.”

“...oh,” Aventurine couldn’t deny he was impressed. When did Caelus get so bold? Not that he disliked it or anything, but it certainly did something to the chemistry of his brain. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Caelus nodded, letting go of Aventurine’s hand and resting his own over his hips. “But! If you can’t, then I will tickle you instead.”

This was getting interesting. To think Caelus would deny his money for a game… “If you want to play, my friend, then I'm more than happy to be your opponent, but I will need you to state the terms more clearly,” Aventurine mused, sitting back down and crossing one knee over the other, “I can’t join a game if I don’t know the rules, after all.”

“Hmm… just one round,” Caelus explained, gazing into the distance as he tried to think. He was slowly starting to regret just suggesting it without thinking twice. “A-and the winner gets to… tickle the other for as long as he wants. Sounds good, no?”

“Hahah, it does, my friend,” Aventurine laughed, amused. He was thinking of a couple of minutes for that amount of money, but Caelus’s offer proved to be even better. “Still, one question remains: what game are we playing? Poker? Roulette? Baccarat?”

Caelus's eyes widened. He should’ve really thought about it before.

He had nearly zero experience in that kind of game - he just came in contact with it recently thanks to Aventurine, who always managed to sneak a round or two while they hung out together. Still, those times were enough for him to know that Aventurine was incredibly lucky and never - or, at least, rarely - lost.

If they were to play something like that, Caelus knew he didn’t stand a chance. He needed to turn the tides in his favor. Unless…

“Poker. A round of poker will do, right?”

“Mhm,” Aventurine nodded, taking off his glasses, “I think I have a spare game in my room. Would you accompany me, my friend? We can play there and… let the victor enjoy his prize there as well, away from the curious eyes, hm?”

“S-sounds good,” Caelus chirped, hoping his plan would work out…

…

How?

Aventurine looked at the cards in his hands and at the ones Caelus just showed him. It didn’t make sense, he could swear Caelus was bluffing just now and-

“W-woah, beginners’ luck! Hahah,” Caelus giggled brightly, letting himself fall back in Aventurine’s bed, enjoying the comfort of the soft mattress. “I could swear I was going to lose that, you looked so scary!”

“B-but…” Aventurine muttered, slowly taking off his glasses and double checking the cards: an ace, a king, a queen, a jack and a ten. Royal Flush. A perfect victory for mr. Stellaron. “H-how did you get this hand?!”

“Hm?” Caelus muttered, lifting his body and supporting it on his elbows as he looked at the blonde. “I was just lucky, I guess.” He moved his shoulders slightly, shrugging at it. Aventurine pressed his lips shut, his hands clenching at the bedsheets.

He couldn’t believe that outcome. Was Caelus actually an experienced player all this time? Did he fail to notice something? Just as Aventurine was about to start to overthink, his eyes caught a glimpse of Caelus throwing the cards away, shoving them off the bed.

“Cae-”

“So,” the guy positioned himself between Aventurine’s legs, resting his hands over his knees. His face, inches apart from the blonde’s, had a smirk instead of his friendly smile playing on his lips. “Do I get to enjoy my prize now?”

Aventurine widened his eyes in realization. “W-well, I- hngh!”

A strangled squeal left his mouth before he could voice any concern. Aventurine quickly eyed Caelus’s hands squeezing his legs, just above his knee caps. His touch felt almost electric, the sensation running from where Caelus’s fingers touched him straight up to his brain.

Aventurine jerked his legs, throwing himself back in a vain attempt to escape the other man’s touch. Caelus seemed amused and, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to pay the price for losing their bet, he would be flustered by the sight. 

“Oh, so you are ticklish!” Caelus cheered, crawling a little closer to Aventurine and cornering him against the soft mountain of pillows behind his back. “I wasn’t so sure about it because of how quickly you agreed to play.”

“C-Caelus, wait a sec- aAHAH!” An uncharming, loud cackle echoed around the bedroom when Caelus grabbed Aventurine by his waist, pulling the blonde a little closer. “I-I wahahant another- ahAHAh, r-round!”

“No happening,” Caelus smirked, his fingers slowly picking up the pace and starting to wiggle against Aventurine’s sides, fiddling with the thin, delicate fabric of Aventurine’s shirt. 

Caelus’s touch was curious, fitting for someone who was treating that moment as some sort of experiment. The idea of Aventurine being ticklish didn’t really cross his mind until the man himself inquired about it.

Beginning to dig into Aventurine’s lower sides, Caelus couldn’t help but let out small gasps of surprise when the other’s reaction exceeded his expectations. “Heheh, is Churin a little ticklish right heeeere? ~” He cooed, his hands taking turns between poking and clawing, covering all the extent from Aventurine’s hips to his lowest set of ribs with gentle, playful tickles.

And, for the Amber Lord, how much it tickled. Barely seconds having his body touched like that were enough to make Aventurine’s facade crumble. Added to the tickling, the teasing made his cheeks flush, contrasting the color of his golden hair. “S-slohohow dahAHAHAWN!!” He whined, gritting his teeth while hoping it would help him control his reactions.

But it didn’t.

Each poke and each stroke sent a new wave of that funny feeling - not exactly pain nor pleasure, but something that made his stomach swirl with butterflies and his head spin, leaving Aventurine laughing and euphoric.

Caelus, who had already made himself comfortable in Aventurine’s lap by that time, was also surprised, yet amused. Maybe it was thanks to the drinks the blonde had earlier, but tickling Aventurine was rather… easy. Not because of how ticklish he was, but there was almost… no resistance. “Churin,” Caelus cooed, almost pouting as if he was disappointed, “why are you not fighting back? Do you just want me to keep tickling you that bad? ~”

 Of course, the only answer he could get out of Aventurine at that point was him shaking his head frantically. Still, if he would dare to speak the truth, maybe he wouldn’t deny the accusation so promptly. “C-CahAHAhaelus!! W-wahahait a sec- ahAHa, s-second!” He pleaded, struggling to keep up with the energetic pace of the other’s hands, that seemed to flee from one spot to the other.

In a moment, Caelus was pinching Aventurine’s waist, making his legs kick out in reflex and throw any remaining cards off the mattress. Then, if he tried to reach for those nimble hands and stop them, they would quickly move to his stomach, poking around his navel in a way that made Aventurine whine in his laughter.

If Aventurine, after that, tried to suck in his stomach and curl up to defend his poor, ticklish body, Caelus’s hands would climb up his ribs, clawing at them and playing them as some sort of loud, but - according to Caelus - somehow cute, instrument. Of course, trying to stop his hands there would inevitably end with Caelus tickling Aventurine’s underarms, prodding and vibrating his fingers into that soft spot and making the blonde literally shriek, turning his cheeks even redder.

All this was happening too fast, cycling over and over before Aventurine could get used to any of that.

“AHAhahah, p-plehehease!” Aventurine laughed, weakly tapping at the back of Caelus’s arms, “I c-cahan’t breheh- eheh, breathe!” He gasped, feeling small tears of mirth clinging onto his lashes and hanging on the corner of his eyes. 

Aeons, why did he even agree with such terms in the first place?

Maybe because he was blinded by the confidence in his trust and didn’t properly consider the negative outcome - which was clearly proving itself to be more than he could handle. Maybe he, indeed, allowed the alcohol to get the best of him and his rational side ended up left in reality.

Or, last but not least, his crush for Caelus made him stupid enough to think he would be able to handle getting tickled. After all, besides him, Caelus was also smiling, laughing and even trying to tease him with that silly nickname he came up with during one of the nights they hung out.

Well, whatever it may be, the fact was that Aventurine was also ticklish. Perhaps even more than Caelus. And letting himself simply get tickled like that… definitely wasn’t the best of his ideas.

“What’s wrong, Chu~ rin~?” Caelus mumbled, finally showing the blonde some mercy and, instead of restlessly ravaging his torso, changing his hands’ motion to just some light squeezing on Aventurine’s sides. “Does it tickle a lot?”

“I-it dohohohes!” He groaned, his rest resting tiredly against the pillows. His cheeks were already feeling a tad sore and Aventurine couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. “C-Cahahaelus, you- hnngh, ah! C-c’mohohon!” 

“No no no,” Caelus teased with a grin, not letting Aventurine get too comfortable as he shifted his focus back to his ribs. “I won the bet fair and square! And I want to tickle you more!”

He sounded like a spoiled brat acting like that - not that Aventurine didn’t enjoy spoiling him rotten whenever they went shopping, but this request in particular was just too hard to attend! “J-just- ahAHaha, just a breheheak! You can t-tihihickle m- ahAhAHA, I wahAhahasn’t done tahahalking!”

Caelus stuck his tongue out while grinning cheekily, moving his hands to tickle Aventurine under his arms again. The terms were clear, there was no room for negotiating breaks or things like that now. Caelus was having just too much fun with this new fancy squeaky toy to consider a break.

Whether or not it was possible to die inside a dream, Aventurine felt like he was going to find out the answer really soon if he didn’t get Caelus to stop. His limbs, already weakened, couldn't do much against the restless fingers roaming and tickling his body, making his head spin - probably because of the lack of air.

Then, with what seemed to be one last desperate attempt of saving himself, Aventurine tugged at Caelus’s jacket, pulling him with all the strength he had left. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do after that, but as long as it gave him a break, it should be enough.

What followed, whoever, seemed to be another episode of Aventurine’s luck saving his skin. As Caelus planted his hands against the bedpost to avoid crashing into Aventurine, something slipped out of his sleeve. Judging by mr. Stellaron’s desperate expression, that was…

“...a-a card?” Aventurine mumbled, holding the card between his fingers. 

“W-what?!” Caelus squeaked, nervous and not-suspicious-at-all. “H-how did it end up there? Hahah…”

Aventurine smirked and a chuckle escaped his lips. He tossed the card aside and couldn’t help but to laugh a little louder. “Ah, my friend… you never fail to amaze me, do you?”

Cheating.

Right, how did he not think about something like that earlier? It probably happened when he was too distracted by Caelus’s clumsy and cute card shuffling tricks to notice that the cards that “accidentally” fell off the bed didn’t return to the stack.

When Aventurine sighed, done laughing at the picture that just formed inside his head, he looked up to meet Caelus’s gaze, filled with anxiety and fear. “S-so… you’re not mad?”

“Of course not, my friend,” Aventurine smiled, cupping one of Caelus’s cheeks. “Remember? ‘Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back when you see fit. Exploitation and treachery are simply tools of the trade’... and so is cheating, I suppose.”

Caelus sighed in relief, making the mistake to already jump to the conclusion that his actions wouldn’t have consequences. Of course, he was wrong.

Aventurine moved his hands down, from Caelus’s cheek to his shoulder, and pushed the guy back, making him fall back-first in the mattress. “But, my friend, you forgot that I don’t make deals that don’t pay off.”

“C-Churin, wait a sehEHEHCOND!” Caelus cackled, quickly shooting his arms down and pressing them against his body when Aventurine tickled his armpits. “AHAHA- I’M SOHOHORRY!” 

“Hm? What for?” Aventurine tilted his head, faking a confused expression as he savored both the taste of revenge and sound of Caelus’s laughter, along with the feeling of having him giggling under his touch. “I need you to elaborate, my friend, loud and clear. What are you sorry for?”

“F-For cheheheating! AhAHAah, C-Chuhuhurin!” Caelus squealed, his voice cracking slightly when Aventurine’s other hand began to target his waist, making him trash and giggle like a little kid.

Unlike Caelus, Aventurine wasn’t so energetic or nimble when it came to tickling. Instead, he was going to spot after spot, making sure to put them through some extensive testing and enjoying how each of them made Caelus laugh differently.

Tickling Caelus under his arms would make him cackle loudly and, sometimes, even make his laughter go quiet. Down to his ribs and side, Caelus’s reactions were less extreme, but it was still so easy to get him laughing and squirming around - it also made him look the cutest in Aventurine’s opinion.

His favorite one, so far, were his thighs. As Aventurine sat on top of Caelus’s knees, his hands could claw and pinch at every inch of Caelus’s thighs. Tickling him there was surprisingly fun since he would try to reach for Aventurine's hands, only to fall back in a fit of laughter when he noticed he couldn’t reach them. Of course, it was also the perfect chance to tease and touch him there.

While putting all his body through a test, Aventurine also managed to squeeze a couple secrets out of Caelus, getting to know even more than he first planned to. “Sigh, so you planned cheating in our game from the very beginning, my friend?”

“Y-yehehes!” Caelus cried out softly, giggling tiredly as Aventurine’s thumbs dug deep into the sides of his legs. “B-but thahahahat’s all! I prohoHOhomise!”

“My, ‘that’s all’? Of course it is, it’s everything we did today, my friend. And you were cheating the whole game!” Aventurine feigned an offended tone, sneaking one hand under Caelus’s leg to pinch the back of his thigh while the other pinched his knee cap. “Since you’re so eager about my games, maybe it’s time for you to learn how we deal with cheaters in the casino ~”

[totalswag]

Hi you! I was thinking about actress!y/n is in a ceremony and Drew is filming of obx s4, they're both so busy in their film industry, that they miss each other terribly that they kept contacting in messages and calls,

(especially him, who is very proud of her, who would like to be by her side even if she tells him to keep working on the set of obx, that she wouldn't want to disturb him. Like they both put up with each other so much they love each other)

that they haven't had time to talk to each other much, they want to meet up face to face again for once, so she decides to visit him as a little surprise to see him again in Charleston

surprise visit on set — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank for the request lovie! i have a few requests that i will work on or currently working on. all the love you guys have been showing me lately is absolutely amazing, i couldn't thank you lovies anymore. halfway to 1k too!!!

summary surprising drew on set after months of not seeing each other.

warnings cuteness thats all

masterlist

Being in a relationship where you both act and are continuously busy filming is difficult, but there is always time and space to see one other when you take a break from filming.

Drew and you began dating in 2021, after he completed season two of his show, Outer Banks. You met through mutual friends at a gathering and hit it off right away.

Outer Banks season four is presently in production, which means Drew is in Charleston filming. It's been about two months since you last saw each other, and you miss each other a lot.

You were on the red carpet on the premiere of your new movie. As you went through the crowd, cameras flashed and captured every moment. In the back of your head, you couldn't stop thinking about Drew and how much you miss him.

A young woman called your name where interviews stood infront of cameras waiting for you and your cast mates to interact. You smile with a kind wave, walking over.

“Miss, Y/N, "I must say you look absolutely stunning tonight in this dress you're wearing," she says, praising you from top to bottom.

"Thank you so much; it means a lot to me, and I'm glad I chose to wear this dress tonight," you giggle, smoothing your hands over your sides.

The interviewer asks you a few questions on both the film and your character. You were grateful to be asked these questions because you had worked so hard on set.

"Before we part ways, noticed your boyfriend, Drew Starkey, is filming season four for Outer Banks. How is that going, do you know?" She asks politely.

"We haven't seen each other in a while, but we text every day," you place the front strands behind your ear, "he said everything is going well on set and he can't wait for fans to see," you explain, smiling before saying goodbye.

You just hopped on a plane to Charleston to surprise Drew. You secretly organized this trip because you miss Drew and want to spend time with him. You can't wait to be in his arms again.

With all of your free time, you decided to pay Drew a visit and meet the rest of the cast, whom you consider friends as well.

When the plane landed, you walked down the stairs to find Maddie, Madison, and Carlacia waiting for you beside the car, holding two posters designed specifically for you. You took out your phone and started recording them as you came closer.

"Finally back with my hot bitches," you exclaim, extending your arms for a group hug.

"How long has it been since we saw you last?" Madison asks, "I don't know, but it's been too long," and then grabs your suitcase and places it in the trunk with your other belongings.

Everyone knows about you coming except for Drew. The look on his face will be priceless and unforgettable. Knowing you, you might cry.

A few hours go by, you left early with the girls to set since they are filming their scenes first. You were able to hid in Drew's trailer on the couch in the corner where he won't see you when he enters.

Drew's reaction was clearly visible on your phone. Hearing his voice get closer filled your tummy with butterflies. Taking a deep breath as you heard the doorknob turn.

"What time do you want me to get back on set again?" You hear him say this while the door is still open and you have no view of him.

"Okay, that sounds good; I'm going to take a quick nap," he says before entering his trailer.

His figure enters the trailer and turns right, with his back to you. When he turns around, all he sees is the love of his life in the corner, wearing the most beautiful smile that makes him fall harder each time. He can't believe you're standing in front of him now.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming right now and you're a vision," Drew blurts out, placing both hands over his head to digest what's going on in his mind.

"Don't think I'm a vision baby," you giggle, getting off the couch, "so are you gonna give me a kiss or stand there handsome?" You make amusing gestures. 

"Oh I'ma kiss you alright," he quickly responds, taking you in his arms, lifting you up with his arms; you wrap your legs around his waist.

You two remain like this for a full minute, taking up the sensation of being together. You place kisses all over Drew's face, making him giggle.

"I've missed you so much; seeing you now and seeing your beautiful face in person makes me so happy. Drew expresses himself meaningfully: "I fucking love you so much baby."

The tears come down your face, Drew's quickly to wipe them.

"I can't explain the emotions I'm feeling right now, but to sum it up, being in your arms again, hearing your voice, touching you, makes me want to not leave you."

Drew helped you get to your feet and led you to the couch. You inform him you have a surprise trip planned; he assumed you wouldn't see each other until next month. Drew gave you an update on how filming has gone, etc.

The past four days has been wonderful. You went onto set, met up with the crew and cast, beach, shopping, drinking, went out to dinner, etc.

Talked about the movie premiere and how your movie turned out after you watched it.

It's a lovely night in Charleston. The sun had just set, which was breathtaking from the view at dinner. Drew and you were strolling out of a restaurant holding hands, laughing at each other's jokes.

"Oh my gosh is that Y/N and Drew?" A faint voice from across the street causes you both to turn your heads at the same time, filled with curiosity.

"I suppose I am dreaming right now. I love you two so much and you've helped me so much, I can't thank you enough," the young girl confesses, struggling to fight back tears, "my name is Skylar."

Your heart warmed at Skylar's sweet comments. You and Drew instantly drew her into a group hug. Skylar wept with happiness. 

"Thank you for your love and support. We're both glad we could support you through your difficult periods in life, and we hope you'll keep fighting. Would you want a picture? Drew speaks with genuine sincerity, holding her hand and maintaining her composure.

After talking for a time, you took a few photos with Skyalr before going your separate ways. More fans have approached you two since your arrival. It's always good to meet supporters.

"How about we grab ourselves snacks from the gas station for a movie night and cuddle all night then possibly have a little fun" Drew implies with a hint a flirtatious about the having fun part.

You let a yelp when he squeezed your sides, leaning back against his body.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me" you shrug, smiling.

Drew sighs and wraps his arms around your neck, "I'm glad you took the time to come here. I missed you so much and am finally able to be with you. I'm extremely proud of all of your hard work and your new movie. "I love you, baby."

"I love you more my sweet boy, best thing that's ever happen to me."

my taglist!

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[kanmom51]

Came here for a bitch rant

Because I could and because I wanted to.

I'm going to say this.

Now that the cat is out of the bag, now that we all know that JM and JK are enlisting together, going to be joint at the hip during their 18 months of military service, all I want to say is:

I friggin' told you so!!!

Yes.

I did.

I told you they are ok.

I told you not to worry, that nothing has changed between them.

I told you so.

But if you still don't believe me, please explain how these 2 young men managed to secure an enlistment together, as in going through the whole service side by side. And correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I know this is a first time this is done with an idol.

Only the two of them.

None of the other, as the ot7s will butt in to say, super close members.

If it's about either of their stability, safety, mental health (and not about how close they are and need each other), how is it that out of all of the members it's ALWAYS the two of them? How is it that RM isn't the one to go with JK? How is it not Tae or Hobi with JM (the best friend and 'soulmate' - yes, I did that)? But it's not, is it? Because it's about JM needing to be with JK and JK needing to be with JM. Period.

And if you don't see that, if you don't understand that, well, yeah, I guess either you are purposefully evading it (will talk about that one) or are just plain %$^&*.

Also, have to say this as well.

Now that we know that not seeing them over the past months together meant absolutely nothing about their relationship. This whole process and getting this approved, it takes time. If they haven't been wanting this for a long time and if they still at present didn't want this, well folks, it wouldn't be happening. They want this. They NEED this. And let me tell you something (been a lot of that going around today), knowing this is happening, them being together through this all, with the plus of Jin being around for the first 6 months, means that as far as they are concerned, I will definitely be sleeping well at night. Of course I would rather none of them had to go to the military, but this, my friends, is what we can call maximizing the best of a shit situation. I can sleep well at night knowing JM will be safe (we all worried about his safety, let's be honest) and JK, well, the thought of him without JM by his side. His anchor, his safe place, his catalyst, yeah. I was worried. And now I actually have a smile on my face. Kind of had it ever since I heard this was happening. Every single time I thought about their enlistment over the past few days and everytime I will after they enlist. They are together!!!

THEY ARE TOGETHER!!!

Yes folks, you heard this from RM.

Thank you oh wise leader for letting us know those two share a bed. Can you please shout it out for the ones sitting in the back?

Oops. Sorry. I forgot.

But seriously, the way the two were flustered at the end. Priceless.

So yeah, I guess that was my bratty way of telling off "oh ye of little faith"...

Will this change things up in the fandom?

Well, do you really want to get me started on that one? Not sure you do. I guess I'll suggest you brace yourself for this one...

I will start by saying that my daughters are convinced. I mean, they have kind of been getting there over the past year with JK's lives and behaviour and their interactions when we got them. But this, well yeah, this is GIGANTIC. And if you don't see it, or won't see it, then it's a you problem, not a them problem.

I'm 100% sure there will be those that continue to ot7-fy their relationship. And don't get me wrong here, I'm an ot7 gal all the way. Love all 7 of them to bits. But whoever does not and will not see that JM and JK, their connection, their relationship is just different, well they have an issue. And they will continue with this. Because for many of them to admit that JK and JM are closer with each other than with any other member, to admit that they are even the best of friends, is super problematic. Admitting that throws them straight into the boiling water. Admitting that means seeing it all. Seeing everything (the physical and emotional and sexual behaviours between the two). And doing that means two things. First, admitting that the two are together together, as in a couple, as in actually have sex with each other (to the homophobes among them that is a big no no). Second, to those who have this need to glorify the 7, and not understand that within those 7 are seven human beings with relationship that are not equal to one another. JK and Tae's relationship is unlike JK's with Hobi or JK's with RM and so forth. But more so, having a couple in the mix in their minds is possibly the beginning of the end, which is damn stupid, cause these two have been together for years now and are more ot7 than any claimed ot7 out there (you know, those claiming to be ot7 who constantly ignore or overlook Jikook interactions or for the matter of it, overlook JM, period). So, I kind of predict that won't be changing.

The spin-masters (TKKs, Yoonmin's etc.), well, they will keep on spinning. But not because they don't see it. No. But because they do!! And they need these stories and theories and plain ass stupidities to try and explain it away. The fun part about this one is seeing how every single time their story gets blown up to smithereens by facts, much of the time coming from the members themselves, but also from Bighit or others.

So, to sum it up, nothing is going to change, lol.

Well, maybe, just maybe, some of the reasonable ones out there, those that don't have their feet planted roots deep in the ground, those that do have the ability of critical thinking, they might just see it for what it is.

And if they don't well, wait till those two's travel show comes out, cause from what I'm seeing (from them - depends how it's going to be edited, but then again, how much can you edit out?), it's going to be wild.

Anyways, I do think I'll be back to post about the live, but in any case, will use this opportunity to wish all four of them a safe enlistment. May their basic training go by as fast and as easy as possible (it's going to be so cold...), and may these 18 months go by as fast as possible, but how ever fast or slow they go, I hope they keep safe and can be as happy as possible while serving their country.

I, for one, can't wait for them to come out on the other side.

See your hectic asses for Festa 2025.

[yanderepalace]

Could I request some Korekiyo Shinguji (from DRV3) headcanons, if you're free? ty! <33

Yandere!Korekiyo General headcanons

warnings: stalking, manipulation

a/n: this is extremely late but hope you enjoy!

Korekiyo, first appeared unassuming. Charming, polite, articulate, what could you have possibly expected?

You were a fascinating specimen in his eyes, someone he could just watch for hours.

Soon as his fixation on you increased, he began to insert himself in your life more and more. He’d appear out of nowhere during private conversations to offer his opinion.

As well, he began to give you very extravagant gifts, expensive ancient artifacts, priceless delicate jewelry he insisted you wear immediately.

Wherever you went, Korekiyo was there to offer his “guidance”, Influencing any decision you make. He’d always seem to know exactly where you are at any given time.

Korekiyo has a private notebook dedicated to you, your interests, history, medical records, every interaction you’ve ever had with him, documented verbatim, including detailed drawings of you.

Korekiyo had build a shrine of your “artifacts”. He’s very meticulous with the things he collects, such as a strand of your hair stored in a locket, handwritten notes, even your favorite book that went missing. He took great pleasure in keeping your shrine clean as can be and arranged the items in his correct order every morning.

The more you hung around Korekiyo, the more his mask slipped, he’d occasionally let slip unsolicited facts about you slip out that he had no way of possibly knowing.

While he kept his calm and collected persona around others, while alone with you he grew possessive. He would try to convince you with his articulate words giving you an unwanted lecture to stay away from the others, giving you reasons they were no good.

Behind his composed demeanor you soon began to realize the intensity that lay beneath. The weight of his gaze as it followed you, studying you, anticipating your every move always one step ahead of any possible attempt to get away from him.

The more you resisted, Korekiyo’s behavior became subtly more erratic. You could feel his palpable animosity filling the room whenever you would ignore him for someone else.

When he finally got you attention, he would press you for details about your interactions with anyone else.

He always had a way for talking your ear off about various interesting cultural topics and ancient traditions, but over time you noticed them taking a darker, more sinister nuance. He’d explain in great detail about beliefs of ancient human sacrifice and rituals of eternal union with such an undertone in his voice that made unsettled you.

To outsiders, Korekiyo maintained his charming facade, skillfully hiding the depth of his depravity. It was only in private where you would experience the true depth of his limerance and suffocating possession.

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟑]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.6k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, cursing, mentions of abuse/alcoholism, character death and graphic descriptions of death, mentions of vomit

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. this one is... a lot. take heed of the warnings/let me know if there's something i forgot to tag! i might've missed some errors because it's late so i will fix in the morning, otherwise please enjoy! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢

When the meadows grow full and lush, Kinich awaits your reappearance.

The winter had been long—with his crops iced over, he’d had to rely on hunting to survive. His mother’s absence had taken a heavy toll on his family (though he uses the word loosely), and his father somehow finds more time to drink his life away. Now the sole homemaker, Kinich finds himself as his father’s newfound punching bag as well.

He discovers that he has a talent for patching wounds and bruises.

Some days, the man awakens in the dead of night, freshly sober—Kinich can hear him crying his mother’s name in the dark. He doesn’t know whether to take that as regret, or simply loneliness.

They don’t talk. They never really did, but the silence grows quickly, curling and weaving and winding like vines through the house, until Kinich can feel it wrapping his throat shut. Days and weeks go by without him talking to anyone at all.

Still, he moves on.

The ice finally melts, and he welcomes the sight of animals returning from hibernation, despite how they nip at his garden. New life sprouts from the ground, and it’s only a matter of time before you appear in the forest again as well.

This time, you’re touting a burlap bag of Quenepa Berries, and you offer him one as he approaches.

“They’re sweeter at this time of year,” you comment, before popping one of the fruits into your mouth. He accepts and does the same—this batch is fattened and sweet, he thinks as the juice dribbles down his chin. You must have an eye for a good harvest.

“You came back,” is all he replies, as a greeting.

An incredulous expression crosses your face, almost judgmental—you hold the bag of berries away from him as teasing punishment. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

He reaches over you, quick as a fox, catching one of the fruits in his fingers. 

“Don’t know.”

There’s no way to tell you about his mother’s disappearance, at least not one that he’s confident about. After all, he feels there’s no logic in informing you anyway—there’s no solution that you could potentially offer, and it’s not as though it affects you. But it’s the thought of that, and the lasting image of her footsteps, that had instilled this fear within him.

The fear that you would never return.

But you’re here, he soothes himself, another berry in your outstretched palm. He takes it, just as your voice rings out again.

“So, do your parents not like girls?”

The skin of the fruit catches in his throat at your question, and he lets out a series of wet coughs—you pat his back, eyes wide with concern. It takes a few moments for him to return to his senses.

“What are you talking about?” he splutters, uncharacteristically flustered.

You don’t seem to notice, too absorbed in picking through your bag—you prefer the lightest blue berries, the ones that are still slightly unripe. Perhaps you enjoy the tartness they offer.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “It just seems like you don’t want your parents to see me.”

And there’s no easy way to explain his situation, so he doesn’t. Instead, he hums, watching the birds soar by overhead. His heart vaguely tugs with jealousy at the sight of them.

“It’s not that. My parents just…don’t like people hanging around our house. That’s why we moved out of the village.”

Not a total lie, he reasons—the financial issues were the root cause, but his father had also grown tired of neighbors attempting to intervene in his parents’ endless disputes. It had given him hope, for a time, that someone might be able to remedy the situation. 

But that hope was quickly snuffed out.

“Makes sense,” you say, tracing shapes in the dirt with your foot. You draw a heart, a smiley face, and then something that looks like a defective Yumkasaurus. “Your dad is the mean one, right?”

You’re still not quite educated on social faux-pas at your age, and Kinich almost chokes again.

“What?”

Something rustles in the bushes nearby—an animal scared away by the sudden loudness of his voice.

“He always used to yell at me when I’d come around to leave you things,” you explain, overwhelmingly casual. “Smelled like that stuff that us kids aren’t allowed to go near in the market.”

Kinich vaguely remembers hearing his parents argue about something like that, but all the fighting tends to blur together after a time. He’s not sure how to reply to that, or what you might think if he did.

So he doesn’t.

He asks you about your winter instead, a topic change that you welcome eagerly. You tell him about the village, the white-topped roofs and the way the Yumkasauri would redden and sneeze, whelps hiding in their mother’s wings. You tell him about how you tried ice skating on the frozen river, recounting how many times you fell flat on your face. The thought makes him smile faintly.

He’s almost surprised by how enthusiastic you are about it—you’d told him before about your parents’ death in the cold season. He wonders how you seem to move past it all.

You turn your attention back to him, curious. “What about you? What happened during your winter?”

There’s a lot he could say, but none of it feels right, every word sticking to his tongue, stubborn. 

“The winter felt really long,” he finally says, mostly to himself, chewing thoughtfully.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “It did. But it’s not so bad, I think.”

He hums. “Really?”

You shrug. “Spring always comes again anyway.”

/

On Kinich’s seventh birthday, you knock at his door in the evening.

The November air is crisp, but not yet chilling. After all, the nation of Pyro tends to run warm until the very depths of winter. It’s for that reason that the fireplace still lies darkened and empty, and that the kitchen window is still open a crack.

The sound shocks him at first—it’s been a long time since anyone has visited at all, so much so that the dull thump is unfamiliar. Wilder animals tend to come out when the sun sets, so he tries to finish up his farming and hunting beforehand—at this time, he’s usually preparing some sort of meal for the next day.

He glances at the source of the noise, then at his father, slumped over the kitchen table, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. The man will likely be asleep until the early morning anyway.

So Kinich pads to the door, pulling it open just a crack, and it’s your eye that peers back at him, curious.

Another inch, and then the rest of you is revealed to him—you’re holding a neatly wrapped box in your hands, an innocent smile spread across your lips.

His first words come out in a hiss.

“What are you doing here?”

He thinks he’s been quite clear about your need to return to the village by this time, for many reasons. It’s growing dark, a time where animals and humans alike grow more dangerous, and his father tends to be home. The man has a talent of putting Kinich in the worst moods, and he’d rather not spread that to you.

“It’s your birthday,” you greet, as an explanation, shrugging like it’s all so obvious. Kinich tilts his head.

“So?”

“So, we’re celebrating! I spent the whole day baking this cake with Chief Wayna’s help.”

Kinich steps outside, quietly letting the door shut behind him. The sunset sky is burning away at this time, pinks and reds fading into black and blue. The stars will be out soon. 

“It’s nighttime,” he says, crossing his arms.

You nod vigorously, undeterred. “Yup! All so you can see the candles better. It looks so much cooler when it’s dark.”

It’s a ridiculous statement to someone like him, and Kinich is once again reminded how different the two of you are. His sense of logic doesn’t seem to align with your enduring enthusiasm. Still, he likes the fire that you have about you, and has no interest in snuffing it out, so he merely sighs and leads you away from the front door.

Once you’re a bit away, the house still in view, he looks to you again.

“So, what is it about candles?”

Without a reply, you turn away from him, fiddling with various things—he hears a match being lit, sees the faint light reflect from behind you—and then you’re facing him again, proudly holding out the cake.

There’s seven brightly colored candles sticking out from the top. The candlelight illuminates your face with a soft glow, a cheeky smile spreading across your lips.

“It looks good, right?”

Kinich peers down at the treat—it does look good, with the expensive kind of frosting that he used to look at longingly in the market. He hasn’t had something this sweet, this luxurious, in a long time, or maybe ever. When he glances back up, you’re staring up at him expectantly—he shrinks back from the pressure.

“What is it?” he asks, feeling self-conscious. You point to the candles.

“You have to blow it out.”

Vaguely, he thinks back on when he used to live in the village. He’s seen people hold birthday parties before (though he can’t say he’d ever been invited), but he’s not sure he’s heard of this tradition. Birthday celebrations weren’t something his family could ever afford anyway, or maybe they just didn’t care to.

Kinich realizes he doesn’t even know when his parents’ birthdays are.

But you’re still watching him, so he pushes that thought aside. Instead, he leans over and gently blows out the candles in three small puffs of breath.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” You cheer, tilting the cake toward him. “I hope you made a wish!”

You’d forgotten to mention that before he blew out the candles, he thinks to himself, but he’s in no position to argue with your good will anyway. So he nods, silently making a wish after the fact.

“Alright, the best part is eating it,” you whisper conspiratorially, like you’re sharing a life-shattering secret. “And Elder Leik says it’s bad to have sugar before bed, but I think it’s okay just this once—”

“Kinich!”

That voice—

His heart freezes in his chest. Your face morphs in confusion, and then he’s grasping at your arm and yanking, hiding you behind him—you’re not much smaller than him, though, so it’s a futile effort. At the force, the cake slips out of your grip, smashing uselessly into the grass.

Kinich has half a mind to apologize, but he can’t—instead, he holds you tighter.

“Kinich?” A hoarse voice echoes in the dark. “Where the hell are you?” 

“I’m here. I was just taking a walk,” he replies. His voice shakes at the edges of each syllable—he hopes his father doesn’t notice. 

Something crunches in the distance; it’s the sound of grass underfoot. His father is coming this way, Kinich realizes in a panic. He glances back to your fearful eyes, clutching at the back of his thin t-shirt, and his chest burns with the desire to protect.

It’s too dim to see the man until he’s a few feet in front of you—he’s dressed in a tattered shirt and loose pants, feet dragging through the grass. His eyes narrow when he gets close enough, brows knitting together.

His gaze zeroes in on you, venomous. “It’s you again.”

The collar of Kinich’s shirt grows taut against his throat as you pull against him, afraid. He squeezes at your arm once, a comfort.

“You damn orphans, got nothing better to do? Just fucking around on my property, I should throw you off this goddamn cliff! Not like you got anyone to miss you.”

Kinich grits his teeth. “Leave her alone.”

His father laughs, a grating sound like nails on a chalkboard, then belches. The smell of cheap alcohol filters through the air, even from a distance.

“Go do something useful then. Too many useless people in this world, ha! Just like your damn mother.”

The mention makes the blood ice over in Kinich’s veins, a sharp frost crawling up his spine. Your grip loosens just a hair, likely in confusion, but the detail barely reaches his mind.

“You know where she is?”

The image of his mother’s footsteps in the newly fallen snow had never left his mind—he sees it in his nightmares, trapped and crawling in an endless frozen landscape, alone. He thinks of her when he farms, when he weaves, when he’s forced to eat another Grainfruit.

He thinks of her always, maybe, in the back of his mind.

And his father does too, maybe, based on the way his whole body seems to tighten with anger at the question. He doesn’t reply, at least not verbally.

You watch, horrified. Even as his father’s eyes glow with rage, even as he drunkenly hobbles toward you both, hands outstretched.

(Kinich blankly notes that they form the shape of his own neck.)

The man isn’t too coordinated, especially with the alcohol coursing through his veins—he stumbles a few times on the way, the grass seeming to curl around his ankles, slowing him down. Perhaps it’s the land’s way of protecting him, Kinich thinks. 

He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him. “Come on!”

Kinich runs, wind whipping at his face, the way he always does when his father gets this way. He takes you through the backyard, toward the forest, where his father might lose sight of you both and give up the chase. He knows the paths there and knows them well—the shadows of the trees will protect you both.

But the man is picking up speed behind you, roaring about what he’ll do once he catches you.

“Kinich,” you wheeze. You’d already been semi-exhausted by your trek here, and certainly not expecting a sprint like this.

“I know,” he pants back. “Just a little more.”

You’re trying your hardest, he knows.

But he’s faster than you, and you stumble, lagging behind.

“Kinich!”

His father lunges, fingers barely grasping at the leg of your pants. A shriek erupts from your throat as you tumble to the ground in a twisted pile, and Kinich cries out with you, just as the cliff seems to rumble beneath his feet. 

It happens in slow motion. 

Kinich’s father meets his son’s gaze, enraged, then afraid. Terrified, just as he feels his legs dangle over the edge of the cliff, just as the weight of your smaller body pushes his torso over. Shocked, just as the rest of you starts to come down with him. 

Your screams echo off the darkened mountain. 

Kinich weighs his options—it doesn’t take long—and then leaps forward. His chest smacks painfully into the dirt, but he manages to grab your wrist just as you slip down the cliff.

“Kinich!” 

His father is screaming his name, and so are you, pleading, begging for his help. And you’re still in his grasp, but you’re slipping, and his father is reaching for him, and if he could just grab him with his other hand, he could maybe pull you both up, but—

Kinich’s gaze meets your tear-filled eyes.

So he grits his teeth, clawing at the dirt, and with his other hand, he grabs—

You.

He doesn’t have time to catch his father’s expression—he doesn’t think he’d want to see it anyway—before he’s hauling you up, yanking you into his arms until you’re both collapsing into the grass. The crown of your skull clashes with his chin harshly.

His father is still bellowing curses, not that you seem to hear it over the sound of your screams and cries. But Kinich hears it, somehow, floating above the chaos and agony in your voice.

“It’s your fucking fault! This is all your fault!”

His eyes flutter shut as the voice fades away, and then grows silent.

It’s too quiet.

Even the crickets seem to censor themselves, hiding from the entire ordeal. Kinich releases his hold on you, rolling onto his stomach, then onto his knees. The grass seems to waver under his stare, rippling and oscillating until it feels like the entire world is quivering beneath him.

He barely registers that you’re struggling to pull yourself upright behind him.

You turn away from Kinich’s hunched form to vomit in the grass, overwhelmed by it all. A corpse lies at the foot of the cliff now, one that could’ve just as easily been you. One that might have actually been your fault. The thought makes you vomit again. 

After a few more dry heaves, Kinich’s hand rubs at your back, the other gently easing your hair away from your mouth. You look over your shoulder at him, eyes filled with tears and nose dripping with snot. 

“Kinich,” you sob, trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was too slow, and he—he fell. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I know he wasn’t—I don’t—but that was your—your father—”

He takes you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him—really look at him. His expression seems the same as always, but you know the difference. You note the quivering at the edge of his lips, the light sheen at the corners of his eyes. It disappears as quickly as you notice it, flattening under a disposition of stone.

“I weighed the value between you,” he says, gaze meeting your glassy stare. Your heart flutters. “And I chose you.”

And for a bit, you pretend that you can’t hear the thick lump in his throat, or the way his nose scrunches to keep the tears from slipping. Instead, you take his hand, struggling to your feet.

Kinich gives you a once-over—your pant leg is tattered now, a long strip of fabric ripped from the bottom. A flash of crimson peeks from under the remaining cloth.

Thin lines of blood bloom over the joint there, slowly running down the length of your leg.

“You’re bleeding,” he rasps, assessing the extent of your wound. It’s not deep—a skinned knee at most, which he’s grateful for. He’s treated much worse on his own body.

There’s so much to do, he thinks, pushing through the foggy haze permeating his mind. He has to retrieve his father’s body. He has to treat your wound. With his father gone, he needs to make a plan for his own survival.

It’s not as if his father ever really helped out anyway, but the thought of being truly, totally alone is harrowing. It takes another minute for him to remember that you’re still standing at his side.

“Go back to the house,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “Wait for me in the kitchen—”

“No!” You blurt, looking surprised despite yourself. Kinich jolts, meeting your eyes. “You’re going to get his body, right?”

After a moment of hesitation, he nods solemnly.

Kinich has looked down these cliffs many times; he knows the sheer height of them. There’s absolutely no chance that his father’s body is in any sort of good shape at the bottom. The thought makes bile rise in his throat.

You swallow. “So let’s go.”

The fear is reflected in the way your hands shake, but your shoulders straighten and you reach for him, slotting your fingers together. It’s the most bravery that you can manage, at least right now. Kinich accepts it gratefully.

Making your way down the cliff is treacherous with the little light you have. You don’t speak, barely even breathe. The stars lay watchful above, winking and illuminating your way. 

Even with your hand in his, Kinich glances back occasionally, ensuring you’re still with him—you always are, still sniffling and scrubbing at your eyes. 

It’s hard for you, and it’s obvious; he has to catch you several times when your foot slips off the stone, but you’re still with him. You’re still with him, he thinks. Kinich repeats it to himself a few times, letting it anchor him as he struggles down the rocks.

His father’s body is stiff by the time you reach it.

You’re too afraid to look at first, meekly standing behind him. It takes a few minutes before you work up the courage to peek over his shoulder, one hand over your mouth. Kinich isn’t sure whether to pray, or cry, or leave it all behind—for a few minutes, he doesn’t do anything at all.

The body is mangled, as he’d expected. You don’t dare to look at it again; you pace about the area, trying to keep your wits about you. 

Everything about it is too familiar. He sees himself in the corpse, the blond hair fanned around the head like a halo, the golden eyes forever stuck in a faraway stare. The grappling hook that he always kept on his person.

His father. A half of him. His flesh and blood.

And he’d let him go.

Kinich feels for his own heartbeat over his shirt, fisting at the cloth there.

You are still alive, it whispers.

So he calls your name, soft. You peek at him through the darkness.

“We have to bring it back,” he murmurs.

And you, despite it all, despite the terror that licks hot up your neck, simply nod.

“Okay.”

As the two of you drag the corpse back toward the house, fingertips sticky with blood that freezes in the passing wind, Kinich realizes it—

This is the coldest November he’s ever experienced.