#there aren't many questions bc i couldn't think of many

[freddyfazbears-kinhelp]

can ii have some cassiidyvictim (cc cassidy/vengeful spiriit) timeline questions for a fictive? relatted to charlie/puppett and susiie/fnaf 1 chhica (the aniimatronics are there ttoo, you ccan include themm if you wwant) stickking around in ucn wwith me. (liike, they didnt move on sso that they coulld help me wiith Hiim. and ii dont know wwhy.) ivve just been thhinking about thatt so thought iid ask.

iif that doesntt make sense ii can give you mmore stuff.

thankss :>

posted! i also posted some other similar questions a while ago, here, if you want to look at those! tell me if you want anything different! :)

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.

sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.

you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.

"what?"

"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.

"my house and back. i can't look nice?"

"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.

"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.

"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.

"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.

"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."

sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"

"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.

your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.

she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.

school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.

you home today? i wanna see you.

you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.

"she's tucked in."

your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.

"hello? you good?"

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.

"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."

"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.

"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.

"stay. i wanna talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.

"that's none of your business."

"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"

"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."

sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."

you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"

"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."

"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.

you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"

it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.

"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.

"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."

"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."

you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."

thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.

"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"

shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.

"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"

you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."

"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.

"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.

"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.

his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.

he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.

"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.

your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[forsworned]

⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋbumblin fool ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ i'm just writing whatever comes to mind at this point, bc i think it's fun to write about how tf 141 would react to a female being on their squad, even if its a bit delusional lol more so on my part but oooohhh welll

꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

Simon's gaze was locked onto her and her lips split into a grin, so clearly dazed and wanting to giggle at his awful attempt at trying to test if she had been concussed from the fall she had just taken moments ago. Fortunately, Simon was able to scoop her up after her head smashed against the pavement, lucky to not have split her skull open but not lucky enough to not have a small knot on her right temple.

"You serious?" She giggled, swaying a bit to the side but he held her still. He couldn't help the annoyed huff that slipped from his lips, but there was a glimmer of amusement behind his eyes. His eye black that had been smeared against his eyes hours ago was now faded from the rain that had drenched them. Even in her allegedly concussed state she read Simon like a book. Always wanting to know all his ticks so she could push the right buttons, usually working in her favor more than her detriment. However, she really couldn't speak for her other teammates.

"Yes, 'm bloody serious. Now answer the question." It was almost playful the way he responded to her. Not wanting to give too much away, but also not wanting to be too rough around the edges for her. God knows he didn't want another go around of the same tears and pouty lips until he had to muster up the pluck to apologize.

Kyle, Johnny and Price couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding in front of them. Luckily the incident had happened on their way back from the bar and not in the middle of a mission. Her usual state of bumbling around, and tripping over thin air was a rather large contrast to how tactful and agile she was on the field. She tapped her chin for a moment with that giddy smile. "Hmm, four?"

Simon glanced between her cute and incompetent expression and his two fingers and then back to her. Kyle was the first to burst out into laughter.

"Bloody hell." Simon groaned as the others chuckled.

"Got ye a concussion, don't y'lassie?" Johnny brushed the hair out of her eyes and she smiled sweetly up at him.

"Bumblin' fool." Simon shook his head.

"Jus a clumsy duck off th'field, aren't ya?" Price grinned, as he softly pinched her cheek. She licked her lips as she wriggled into his touch, feeling the rough pads of his fingers tickle her soft skin. A girly mirth errupting from her and she cowered away playfully from him. A wry grin on Simon's face as he observed the interaction and held her steady once more.

"Well, she's definitely concussed." Kyle laughed again, playing with a strand of her hair. She hummed in content.

"Y'think that's somethin' to be happy about?" Simon's vexation bubbling to the surface at her lack of concern and at his teammate's lack of intiative. All of them at her side, cooing at her in her wobbly and whimisical state and more than ready to take care of her. He pinched the bridge of nose. No wonder she was so giddy.

[takumifujiwarastan]

"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

[echobx]

Twin Flame 2 - pervy!bsf!JJ × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n is indecisive about what she wants and tries to blame JJ

word count: 2.3k

warnings: bratty!reader, angsty feels for JJ, miscommunication ig, lying (to the pogues), smut, talk of mutual masturbation, p in v (unprotected), backshots, orgasm denial

author's note: as promised here's part 2 and bc I couldn't fit all of what I needed in here, I'm gonna do a 3rd one on top... what can I say, I'm a sucker for this man

series masterlist ♡ part 1

   Exchanging used underwear in secrecy. That's the best way you could describe the “situation” you had with JJ. 

   You hadn't really managed to do much that first day, not wanting to get caught by your friends and having to explain it all. Maybe you were both more scared of their judgment for how you two acted than for breaking the rules. They were stupid rules anyway, not holding up any weight anymore after the group finally consisted of two couples, Kiara and whatever it was that JJ and you would maybe, possibly, potentially become. 

   You weren't sure if you wanted more than just hanging out that ended with his fingers up your cunt and yours wrapped around his dick. An occasional make out session if needed, but you weren't picky about it. 

   It wasn't the classic get up. No secret love, at least you told yourself that, because you didn't even know what love was supposed to feel like, never having felt it. You just knew that kissing JJ made your head spin, and you felt nauseous afterward. But not in a sick way, not like when you did after drinking one too many stale beers. No, it was more like your stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and the feeling could only be remedied by his touch, by the feel of his lips pressed against you. 

   There were silent boundaries that JJ wasn't about to cross without asking first, either, but he was also too afraid to pose the question. He looked at you with wonder, more so now than ever before, and maybe that’s why it was so difficult. Before the “agreement” he could make jokes about you sucking him off instead of paying for your weed. Or him going down on you for a pack of cold ones. 

   However, that ease had shifted drastically with the moment you had pulled him into the spare room that day. From then on his whole body was only craving one thing, to hear you try to stay quiet for him and to feel your soft touch around his cock; to watch you watch him as he licked his fingers, cleaning off the last drops of your cum; and maybe even more so, to watch you do the same with him. 

   Head and hand were close enough alphabetically for him already, so it didn't make sense to him why he had such a hard time asking for more from you, and granting it in return. 

   “My parents aren't home this weekend,” you told him while getting dressed, pulling your skirt up but leaving your slip lying damp on his bed. 

   “Is that an invitation?” JJ cocked his brow, and you tilted your head to the side. 

   “Sometimes I think you’re scared of coming inside.” The double entendre didn't get lost on him. 

   “I just mean, we've never done that, is all,” he shrugged. 

   “You've been in my room more times than I can count.” 

   “Not like that,” he shook his head two times, exhaling loudly before getting up and picking up a fresh pair of underwear to put on. 

   “Maybe if you had asked earlier,” you shrugged. 

   “Are we still just talking about the room?” 

   “I don't know, JJ, are we?” you huffed, picking up your purse and walking out on him. 

   Your demeanor had become increasingly harder to read for him, and your growing usage of quips and sarcasm, as well as words he had to look up, wasn't helping either. He knew it was just who you are, not your intention to confuse him more. Yet it didn't help much. 

   The next day, he tried his best to not gaze at you, instead keeping his eyes pinned to the ground to not get lost again. He got lost more and more these days. Thinking about letting you ride him, fucking your throat, bending you over; you name it, he thought of it. He went to sleep thinking about you with a growing semi that wouldn't die down unless you took care of it, and woke up with a boner that grew increasingly more painful. To him, it seemed like the only options would be to just be able to fuck you awake or fall asleep with your tight cunt wrapped around him. 

   “How do you ask someone to go down on you?” your voice ripped him out of his thoughts, but he refused to look at you still. 

   “Why? You got someone new?” Kie poked your shoulder, a cheeky grin on her face, and you smiled politely, keeping the facade. 

   “I wouldn't call it that, we're just hooking up- Well, not so much that either,” you sighed and suddenly all your friends had their ears perked, all but one. 

   “Sounds confusing,” Sarah huffed, her legs draped over John B’s on the couch. 

   “I don't know if it is my fault for not suggesting it or his for not wanting to, I guess,” you roll your eyes. 

   “Maybe he doesn't know how to ask either?” JJ noted, looking up for just a second to see them all look at him for a short moment. 

   “What are you and this guy doing?” Kie inquired. 

   “All we do is make out and then get each other off. We've not even fucked yet, and I'm really starting to question if he just thinks I'm ugly or something. Or maybe I'm just so shit at hand jobs that he doesn't even want to do more,” you complained, and this time JJ stared you down as if you had just announced that you ran over a bunch of toddlers. Maybe even worse, he knew he could find some fucked up excuse for why you would need to run over babies. That was just normal, though, everyone was down bad for their best friend. 

   “Maybe you should tell him that, instead of us,” he hissed, pissed at just the thought that you could think yourself to be not enough to grant the pleasures he wanted to give you, no matter how scared he was. 

   “JJ’s right, for once,” Pope spoke up, oblivious to the tension between the two of you. “Open and clear communication always works out.” 

   “Since when are you such an expert on sex?” JJ huffed, which landed him a kick against the knee by Kiara, and a glare from Cleo, who was playing with her knife. It wasn't a smart move on his end, but he had other things to worry about. 

   “I don't think he knows English as much as he should,” you sighed, finally looking away from JJ, who gulped at the insult.

   John B leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Don't tell me you're fucking that Italian exchange student.” 

   “What? No. That's not what I meant. And he's so not my type either,” you felt affront to the suggestion. “Also, way out of my league, that one, even if I was interested.”

   “Not fucked up enough for you?” JJ quipped, and you shot him a glare. 

   “Apparently, I like mine dumb,” you hit him back. The tension grew worse with the second, and you knew the only way to get rid of it was to let him ruin you, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction. 

   “Okay, well, just talk to the guy. And if he doesn't wanna go down on you, let alone refuse to fuck you, drop his balls in a boiling pot of water and then drop him,” Cleo suggested and Kiara agreed with her. 

   “Yeah, and give me his address, so I can put chili powder in all his underwear.”

   The discussion died down after that, but JJ yet again refused to look at you, but this time not because he was too infatuated with you. He was angry, sad, hurt, confused. His chest felt narrower than usual, as if he was having an anxiety attack, but worse. And every time your voice nestled itself in his ear, it got worse, to a point where he pushed his chair back and stomped inside without losing another word. 

   However, you didn't think much of it, knowing how quick tempered he was it would also not be the best idea to meet him inside. 

   When you got home, your parents were already asleep. You got ready, taking a shower and putting your hair up before lying down to sleep. 

   At last your quiet was disturbed by your window being pushed open and the sound of heavy boots on hardwood flooring filled the room. 

   “I’m trying to sleep,” you murmured. 

   “I don't care,” JJ growled right next to your face. “Get up!” 

   “What's your problem?” you hissed at him while sitting up, the tiny nightgown you were wearing made his pants grow impossibly tighter.

   “You're a real bitch. Not saying shit to me and then spilling it all to them? Making me look even worse than I already do? Making fun of me?” JJ was seething, and the fact that you didn't show remorse made it worse. 

   “You don't know what you want!” you yell silently, not wanting to wake your parents. 

   “Has it ever crossed your fucking mind that I'm trying to be respectful here?” You were honestly too stunned to speak. After all, this had only started because he really wasn't respectful, at all. “Don't you think I would've fucked you any way possible by now if it was my choice? Don't you think that it tears me apart on the inside to try and not fuck this up by being me?” 

   “Oh yeah?” you huffed, and he ran his hand over his face, nodding. “JJ, I don't want you to not be you. Why would I want that? If I wanted to keep on masturbating for the rest of my fucking life, I wouldn't have fucking proposed this arrangement.” 

   “Oh-” the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Well… you know… so…”

   “Not so good with English, just like I said,” you shook your head and his hand shot out to hold you by your throat, not restricting air, but not letting you move either. 

   “You're such a fucking brat, do you know that?” He dipped his head and forced a harsh kiss on your lips. Your hands came up to his pants, fumbling to open the belt and button before he shoved you to lie on your bed. 

   “You wanted me to come by? Expected it?” He sounded dangerous like that, but you liked it, like knowing that he wouldn't actually hurt you, but just play it enough to please you. Or, just enough to “fix your attitude.” 

   “I don't know what you mean,” you said sweetly as he took off his clothes. 

   “That thing you're wearing,” he pointed at the mesh fabric. “Can see all through that. Not something you put on usually.” 

   “Are you complaining about it?” You didn't quite understand what he was getting at. 

   “Hmmm… no. Take it off anyway,” he ordered, and you did. 

   No matter how much he wanted to touch you, feel the round of your tits in his palms, squeeze them, twist your nipples and suck on them, he refrained. He wanted to punish you for playing with him, more. 

   “Lie down,” he pointed at the length of the bed, and you placed yourself on it, head in the pillows, but he shook his head no. “Face down.”

   First you thought about protesting, but you decided against it, turning around and pressing your head into your pillow while your ass was up in the air, the same way your ex had preferred. 

   JJ smacked your ass, and you winced, the sound being smothered by your pillow. 

   “My parents,” you reminded him quickly, and he chuckled. 

   “You better keep quiet then.” 

   JJ didn't really know what he was doing, he only knew that he needed to do it properly and in a way that would have you begging for more, just for him to deny it then. It was a sick plan by an even sicker man. He didn't praise you, didn't talk to you. Kept comments to himself, like the fact that you were so incredibly wet for him, although he hadn't really done anything to you yet. Or when he pushed inside you for the first time and groaned at how tight you were, the perfect fit for him. 

   His first thrust was torturously slow. He wanted to feel you out, every miniscule part of your insides, and imprint it in his mind. How you whined and begged for him to move faster, and to touch you, anything really. 

   “This is just for me, princess, remember?” he taunted after lying down on top of you, nestled deep in your guts. His hands, one on your neck pushing you down, the other under you, pushing against your stomach to make it even tighter for him. Slow deep thrusts did the trick, but as soon as he felt you get closer, pussy starting to flutter around him, he got up and changed his technique. Going faster, nearly coming already, but he paced himself. 

   “JJ, please. Fuck, please,” you begged as you neared the second attempt. 

   “What? Do you want my cum that badly, baby?” he rasped, and you nodded into the pillow. 

   “Need you.” 

   What you hadn't expected was for him to pull out almost completely, starting to jerk himself off while his throbbing tip was still inside you. 

   “JJ, please,” you were close to tears, needing your release as much as air to breathe, and yet he denied you. 

   “Want my cum, baby?” he smirked like the devil, not that you could've seen by the way he pushed you down.

   “Give it to me, please, J,” you whined pathetically.

   As soon as the words had left you, he pushed inside again, spilling himself into your guts and groaning loudly while his dick twitched, and he fucked his seed deeper into you. 

   Maybe you should've felt more used after, but you understood why he had done it. What you didn't understand was that he left as soon as he was done, only a quick, “I hope you're on something,” before vanishing into the night and leaving you behind. 

read part 3 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

umm how dark are u willing to go? I'm thinking abt turning to a life of prostitution and the ghoul being your first ever client and he's not very gentle about it, (plus you're scared bc he's a ghoul ffs) in fact he's very smug bc he's the first client, probably buys you for the night :) mwah xoxo

Working Girl

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Sex Worker Female Reader

Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: smut (18+), sex for pay, rough sex, knife play, cannibalistic threats (he's joking...kinda), spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, rope play, dacryphilia, face and throat fucking, cum facial, some dubcon elements, soft-ish ending (I cannot help myself).

Notes: My answer to that question is "darker than this", anon. I suppose I should probably put together some sort of "wills-and-wonts" pinned post, though, honestly, there aren't many of the latter. With smut and romance content, I think it's important to keep an open mind and broaden your horizons. We are cool with sex work and sex workers in this house, by the way.

I had to let this one stew a bit to decide what direction I wanted to go with it. I'm obsessed with the idea of Cooper menacing around in New Vegas, so I hope you're alright with that. I am also obsessed with the outfits the sex workers outside the casinos wear. I went a little crazy with the length on this one, but I'm super happy with how it turned out. Hope you like it! XOXO

The uniform you'd been given for your new job was absolutely humiliating.

Sure, you looked...nice. They'd fed you, for once you'd had plenty of water, got the first chance to bathe that you'd had in weeks, maybe months. You'd even been able to wash your hair, a rare, rare thing that still had you trying to smell the silky strands as they blew by your face. Initially, you'd felt quite confident, actually; the cropped top even had sleeves, the tight black skirt and heels making your legs look quite nice, even if they were uncomfortable to walk and stand in.

However, your confidence had diminished a bit when they'd given you the black leather collar to wear around your neck, reducing to basically zero when you actually stepped outside to begin your work.

Okay, you had technically done this before, traded sex for medicine or repair work or a place to stay. Honestly, at this point, you thought you'd had more sex for trade than sex for pleasure, the latter hard to come by for someone as picky about actual dating as you. But it felt like one thing to have someone offer it in the moment, when you were truly desperate and a spur-of-the-moment decision was distastefully easy to make. This, standing along the New Vegas Strip and advertising yourself for it, felt like another. A late evening breeze blew across the road, stirring up some dust and making you shiver.

If you were honest with yourself, you got off easy. You weren't sure what the guys and girls with the chains around their bodies and their nipples exposed had done, right or wrong, to earn that uniform, but you weren't eager to find out.

There was a man across the way, leaning against the wall in the shadows outside the tram station, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his hand. You couldn't see his face, obscured by a dingy, wide-brimmed cowboy hat, his figure hidden as well by a long, dark duster that was incredibly ratty at the ends. He'd been there a while; you weren't sure how long, but you were fairly certain he'd been checking you out. His smokes were lasting an awfully long time.

You'd been told that oftentimes johns were too nervous to initiate the transaction themselves, that you needed to be fun and flirty and try to hook them in yourself if you wanted any business. It didn't help that you, too, were nervous to initiate, but you wanted this to work out, at least for now, and no one else had been interested so far.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you looking to party?" you called out to him, waving as playfully as possible.

That got him, the burning red cherry at the end of his smoke glowing brightly for a few seconds before he tossed it to the ground, exhaling a big cloud of smoke as he stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

"Handsome, huh? It's been a hot, hot minute since anyone called me that, darlin'." he drawled, his voice actually quite nice. His footsteps gave off a funny little jingle you couldn't place, and you calmly took him in as he approached. But then he came close enough that you could see his face, see the pits and the sunken eye sockets and the gaping hole in the middle of his face where a nose was supposed to be.

A ghoul. Holy shit, he was a ghoul.

Now, you didn't have anything against ghouls, per se, not like some people certainly seemed to. You didn't like the idea of anyone being barred from towns and outposts or harassed just because of what they were, to no fault of their own. You still gave pause at the idea of sleeping with one. Couldn't it make you sick? Didn't some ghouls eat people? Or was that just the feral ones? No, that was stupid. There were people who ate people in this world. Of course a ghoul could possibly eat you.

"Busy the rest of the night?" he asked as if it were automatically the response he'd receive.

You tried your best to giggle playfully, desperate to no longer have to stand outside and solicit for a while, even if it meant your first trick was a doozy.

"Not if you've got the caps." you replied, clenching your shaking hands behind your back.

"Oh, I've got 'em, sweetheart. So." he asked, looking you blatantly up and down. "Are we gonna party or what?"

The two of you made your way into the casino, the bright lights throwing intriguing shadows across your new friend's gaunt face. You left him at the front desk and told him where could meet you after he relinquished all of his weapons, including the big gun strapped to his back. You'd be happy to see that go.

After you left him, you went to the back to check in and described the john you were going back with. When you said he was a ghoul, you expected some sort of reaction or concern, but all the older woman behind the counter did was produce a Rad-X from a half-empty bottle and push it across the counter at you along with a room key.

"Room three. He paid for the night." she said flatly, barely looking your way. "You're gonna wanna take that now, not later."

You picked it up and turned to walk towards the back rooms where the dates happened. You were a little floored he'd paid for that much time; you'd been anticipating an hour, maybe two. But all night? Did turning into a ghoul give you some sort of super stamina? Or did he have other plans for you?

As you passed by the doorway to the gambling floor, you could see him still standing at the counter emptying his pockets.

Just how many weapons did one person need?

Hesitating a moment, you waited to catch his eye, holding up your hand and flashing him three fingers. He gave you a slight nod, and you continued on, unlocking the third door down the adjacent, isolated hall. The rooms weren't much but the basics; a dingy but functional bed, a chair and side table with a jug of water and a few glasses in the corner. A lamp with a stained shade. A clock to keep track of the time. That was about it. You poured yourself a small glass of water from the jug and swallowed the Rad-X down, a bitter taste coating the inside of your mouth. Pulling a face, you took a fidgety seat at the foot of the bed to wait for your companion for the night to arrive, leaving your uncomfortable heels on.

Don't take off the shoes before the john gets in there, you'd been told. Some guys like to take everything off themselves.

You were pulled from your ruminations by the sound of the door creaking open, making you startle ever-so-slightly as he entered.

The people at the front desk had almost certainly offered to take his hat and coat, but it seemed he had declined. Maybe he had some particular personal attachment to them, you thought as he shucked the dirty duster, hanging it by the door. The hat remained on as he turned and appraised you, sitting straight on the bed, your hands daintily in your lap. He still wore a few layers, but you took comfort in knowing that he'd had his pockets emptied. They'd let him keep the lasso he'd been wearing, though, and you eyed it cautiously as it hung from his hip.

The ghoul didn't say anything to you as he crossed the room, pouring himself a tall glass of water and sitting in the chair, drinking it down as he stared at you. That sent you squirming ever so slightly, uncertain of how you were supposed to react.

"So, how long have you been in town?" you asked, eager to fill the silence. He didn't answer for an unsettlingly long time, finishing the first glass of water and pouring another.

"Long enough. Just blowing through." he replied, brim over his eyes and glass over his mouth.

"Ah." you responded, unsure what else to say to that. Things were quiet again for a long time, several minutes passing as you watched him dig an inhaler out of his pocket and take a long drag. You weren't sure what it was; you'd recognize a Jet container. Lots of people used it.

"I was surprised you wanted me for the whole night." you confessed.

"That right?" he responded. "Not in this line of work long, eh?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess." you replied, taken aback by that. "It's just that all night's a long time."

You were trying to make your voice as sweet and seductive as possible, despite the tingle of worry creeping up your spine.

"It sure is." he replied, a glint in his eye that you couldn't read. It frightened you a little, but you told yourself you were overreacting. Another few minutes passed by, another puff of the inhaler, before he raised his hand, still wearing those thick gloves, and beckoned you over. You stood, somewhat shakily walked over to stand in front of him as he sat reclined in the chair, and waited for him to direct you.

"Alright," he said, voice calm as ever as he suddenly produced a long, slender blade from...somewhere. "let's get that outfit off."

This, of course, sent you screaming, turning quickly to flee towards the door. However, he quickly appeared behind you, a hand moving to cover your mouth with one of those filthy gloves as he yanked you back into his chest, making you stumble in those awful shoes. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you.

"Jesus Christ." he said, mild annoyance in his tone as he held you almost effortlessly with the one arm. "If you're already screamin' like this when we ain't even had any fun, maybe you ain't cut out for this, baby doll. Never seen a knife before?"

Your hollering choked down into a little cry as the strange-smelling glove muffled you, as you took in what he said. You desperately didn't want to fuck up this job on your literal first night, didn't want to lose a chance to have some stability, a roof over your head. But you couldn't stop the way your brain screamed at you to run. He brought the blade back up to your eye level, turning it to and fro, as if to show it off to you, the small silver blade glinting dangerously in the lamplight.

"You aren't supposed to have that." you whimpered between his fingers, trembling.

"Lotsa people do things they aren't supposed to in this world." was his reply as he slid the blade directly between your breasts, slicing through the crop top from hem to collar. You swore you felt the blade swipe your skin, and it made you gasp in fear, but when you looked, the skin was untouched.

His hands made quick work of the button and zipper of your skirt, dropping it around you feet and leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear and your uncomfortable shoes, your heart clamoring in your rib cage.

Looking you up and down once more, he stepped back and took in the whole scene before slinking back down into the chair in the corner, his hands moving down to undo his own belt and fly. He paused, however, to invite you forward again, urging you to close the few foot distance between you. You moved as instructed, still shaken as you stood a foot or so in front of him.

"Kneel."

Carefully, you lowered yourself down onto the scuffed old floor, cool against your bare knees as you looked up at him.

From this angle, it was much easier to see his whole face, including his eyes, and they were gorgeous. You hadn't noticed before, between the nerves and the hat, that they were like pools of dark honey. They distracted you so much that you missed him actually tugging his cock free. When you looked down at it, you were pleasantly surprised at how normal it looked, save for the radiation-roughened texture of the skin. Save for that, all the normal parts were there in normal quantities. You let out a very soft sigh of relief.

"Well, go on." he said, brandishing the thing at you like a weapon. "If you're gonna be a whore, you gotta act like one."

You could feel yourself pouting at his statement, and you hated it, hated the way his words rang through your brain, but you felt some ease at finally getting into something you had experience with, at least. Promptly crawling forward the last foot or so, you let yourself sit a tad more comfortably, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

"Uh-uh." he corrected, stopping you in your tracks. "If you're any good at it, you shouldn't need your hands."

This gave you some pause, scanning him over as your palms came to rest on the bit of exposed chair between his legs. Slowly, you leaned forward and dragged your tongue along the underside of his erection, sending it twitching at the contact. The man sitting before you hummed in approval, fully reclining against the back of the chair to watch you closely as you cocked your head somewhat awkwardly to allow your lips to wrap around the tip. He tasted differently than you were accustomed to, you thought as you began to let your head bob up and down on the first few inches of him, your tongue running along the leaking slit; there was an almost metallic aftertaste to him, like licking a cap.

"There you go." he praised lowly as you slid down to take as much of him as you comfortably could, his right hand coming to softly fist in your hair. The movement made you vaguely suspicious, and rightly so, as a few moments later, his other hand joined the first, and together they held your head in place, his hips pistoning up to fuck your face. You tolerated it well, only gagging at the last few thrusts when it seemed he was trying to push deeper and deeper. When you did, the sensation made him pull your head back, his saliva-coated cock laying against his leather-clad stomach as he appraised you, his eyes largely obscured again, drool all over your lips and chin.

"Let's move over to the bed, shall we?" he said, already standing by the time he finished.

Awkwardly, you attempted to right yourself out of your kneeling posture, but before you could even try, he stooped and grabbed you around the waist, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing. He was so strong and it made you blush as an indignant sound left you.

"Hey!" you let out before you could stop yourself. You weren't supposed to complain, but it felt like he was almost antagonizing you.

"Allow me." he replied, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

He dropped you down back onto the foot of the bed rather unceremoniously, your hair falling in your face and eyes; when you moved it away again, the switchblade was back in his hand, and you screamed again, unable to stop yourself.

"Keep it comin', sweetheart. I doubt anyone's rushing in here to help you. Honestly, I think they'd respond quicker if you quit screamin' for too long." he said, mocking.

"Quit scaring me and I'll quit screaming!" you shot back, righting yourself so that you were at least properly sitting upright.

"Boy, you sure do love to run that filthy little cocksucking mouth of yours, don'tcha?" he sneered, grabbing your hair again and yanking you close. "Pretty sure I'm payin' you to put out, not to bitch."

The blade traced back down your cleavage to dig into the waistband of your black bra, quickly slicing through it as well and sending your breasts popping out, the now damaged garment hanging uselessly from your arms. The ghoul insistently urged you down onto your back by your hair, and you followed, your legs dangling over the foot of the bed past your knee. For a moment, he simply looked at you.

"Open your mouth." he demanded, leaning over you.

You did as you were told, the command not unusual, but then he puckered his lips and let a rather large gob of spit fall onto your tongue, sending you gagging and scrambling to sit up.

"Nope. Swallow it." he said, maintaining that painful grip against your scalp, keeping you on your back. "You need to remember where your place is right about now, girlie."

Incensed, you hesitated a moment before forcing yourself to do as he told you. Your face was burning bright red with humiliation. He was still leaning over you, bringing the sharp edge close to your skin again. You steeled yourself, calling his bluff despite how dangerous that felt, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, challenging him as he traced the point across your flesh.

"Such pretty, smooth skin." he muttered, watching your reaction closely. "Looks good enough to slice a piece off and eat..."

As he spoke, he let the sharpened edge dig fully into the side of your breast, and you let out a whimper, your stomach rolling at the feeling, at his words. You were certain he was about to really hurt you.

However, he stopped after a moment, pulling the thing away to reveal nothing more than a thin red dash the length of the blade. A kitten scratch. A joke. You looked to him rather incredulously, and he rolled his eyes, folding the edge back into its handle, showing you that it was fully closed before tossing it across the room, landing with a thud in the chair.

"Since you're so afraid of it." he taunted, putting his hands on your hips to flip you onto your stomach. "Hands and knees. Face down."

A frustrated huff escaped you at this newest little jape as you pulled yourself up into the proper position, watching him out of the corner of your eye, your face buried in the musty mattress. It was hard to focus your vision like this, but you watched him move up towards the head of the bed until you couldn't see him anymore. There was a sound you couldn't put your finger on, quick and quiet, but by the time you could even hazard a guess at what it was, he'd seized your right arm by the wrist and was wrapping the rope he'd been carrying around it, finishing it off with a knot. This was enough for you to risk a quick glimpse in his direction, only to see that he'd used the lasso to tie your arm to the head of the bed. Your heart raced as he gave the knot at the headboard a yank before disappearing behind you, tugging your collar loose and dropping it on the floor.

He left the heels on.

"It's funny that these fancy casinos think all these dirtbags and desert rats'll come in here and just give up every weapon they have willingly. That's not how things work out there, and it's still not how they work in here, no matter how much they pretend it is." he mused, his voice making it seem almost as if he were talking to himself and not you. His still-gloved hand petted at the round globe of your ass.

Now you were annoyed. Why was he fucking with you like this?

"Are you a dirtbag or a desert rat?" you muttered into the sheets, jumping when he suddenly grabbed you by your hair again in response, holding you tight in his grip as he forced you to look at him.

"I'm the first thing, darlin'. It'll be good for you to learn the difference." he said, actually smirking at you, at the pained look on your face as the feeling once more burned in your scalp, one of his hands slowly moving up the back of your thigh to stroke your mound over your underwear. Quickly, he pushed them aside, his longest finger tracing up and down your embarrassingly wet slit, and you bit your lips hard to muffle the moan you wanted to let out.

Soon, he was working that finger inside you, then another, and another, all in quick succession; this wasn't about making you feel good, it was about making sure you could take him properly. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against your bare ass cheek, leaking and throbbing. He was eager, no matter how cool and calm he seemed to be.

"Spread your legs more." he mumbled, knee pushing at your right leg to "help" you open yourself wider for him. You did as much as possible, feeling like you could fall at any moment. However, you tensed again when you felt the tip of him slip through your folds, collecting some of the wetness there before sliding down to press at your entrance. You held your breath.

It burned when he pushed inside, though whether that was because of the rough texture of his skin or because you weren't completely prepared, you didn't know. He didn't give you much time to adjust to his size, simply bracing one knee against the mattress as he began to fuck you. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, his blunt cock head slamming painfully against your cervix.

At one point, he shifted himself higher over you, seeking a way to be deeper inside. The change in angle caused the slick head of his cock to slip out of you for a moment, pressing against your taut asshole for just a split second, but it was enough to make you panic, squirming wildly beneath him. Pure fear shot up your spine. He only laughed sardonically, tugging your hair to make you look over your shoulder at him.

"You're lucky I ain't real mean, sweetheart." he murmured, slamming his cock back into your leaking, sore cunt. The way it hit hard against your already tender cervix made you whimper, but you were glad he didn't do what you'd thought he was gonna do. It was upsetting you that you weren't more upset, frankly. The whole thing made you wanna be sick, especially the part where you were insanely close to orgasm suddenly.

"The funniest part of all this is that you're still gettin' off on it." he called you out as if he could read your mind.

You desperately shook your head, silent tears beginning to run down your cheeks and tickle onto your chin. You weren't enjoying this, weren't enjoying the rough way he was using you. You certainly weren't enjoying those strangely captivating eyes pinning you as he held you down.

"Please." he scolded. "It's one thing to be a whore. It's another thing to be a liar."

That actually managed to draw an embarrassing little sniffle from you; not his taunts, but the fact that you were fluttering so enthusiastically around him at his words. The man on top of you tilted his head again at this, watching you teeter on the edge of something terribly amazing.

"Poor pretty thing." he cooed with fake sympathy, rubbing away an errant tear with his thumb. Your neck ached at the angle he was holding it at. "Open."

You obeyed, and he spat in your mouth again. It actually didn't have much taste, and you swallowed with no complaint, your brain foggy from the rough way he was fucking you. The feeling of humiliation was still there, creeping hot up your back, but it also made you clench hard around him.

"Fuck." he snarled, suddenly pulling back from you, standing beside the bed again, one hand jerking himself as he grabbed you up onto your knees once more, his fist in your hair as he rubbed and slapped his throbbing cock against your face.

"Open your fuckin' mouth." he growled, pushing himself as far back down your throat as he could go as soon as you did, both hands cupping the back of your head as he skull-fucked you with wild abandon. Your hands braced on his hips, your efforts to blunt his thrusts futile. You gagged and choked and drooled as he used your throat; embarrassingly, one of your hands appeared on your swollen, aching clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he began to throb.

"Shit, girlie, you're gonna make me cum." he panted, pulling himself back from you, leaving you sputtering for air as he resumed rubbing his cockhead on your lips and cheeks. His eyes were burning into yours. "Better keep your mouth closed."

You clenched your lips between your teeth just as the first jet of his release hit your cheek, much thicker and hotter than you'd anticipated, another and then another, seemingly an endless amount covering your entire lower face, dribbling from your lips and chin as he groaned and growled his way through it. Your hand was still rubbing furiously between your legs, and he must've noticed, slipping his fingers down in place of yours and rubbing those same circles, his rough touch just what you needed to fall over the edge as well, moaning loudly as your whole body seized.

Everything was eerily quiet and calm as you both let your breathing settle, one hand supporting his weight against the wall by the head of the bed for a moment, his eyes hidden by the hat once more. Surprisingly, he undid the knot at the headboard, then the one around your wrist, tossing the rope down onto the floor next to the bed as he went rummaging around in his pockets. You noticed that he was tucked back away into his pants. Suddenly, a dingy handkerchief was pressed into your palm; it took you a moment to realize that he intended for you to clean the mess from your face with it.

You set to it, the incredibly thick, almost gelatinous substance difficult to wipe away with the thin square of cloth, but you managed to make it happen. Mostly. As you tidied yourself, he pulled the inhaler from one pocket and a rumpled pack of cigarettes from another, taking a puff and jamming a cig between his thin, cracked lips. He paused to hold the pack out to you, and you shook your head.

"You can take a break, kid. We've got all night." he said, lighting the smoke and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You supposed he was right; you were absolutely exhausted physically after that whole ordeal, and it was his time. If he was alright with you resting some, you'd rest some. Carefully, you crawled up and laid your head on one of the pillows, your side against his back as he sat there, smoking and righting his clothes. In the back of your head, a little bug nagged at you.

"How did you know?" you asked, voice almost timid.

"Hmm?" he replied, his focus seemingly on re-winding the lasso.

"How did you know that, uh, tonight's my first night on the job?"

This got him to turn to you, a mischievous, but not unkind gleam in his gaze.

"I watched you for a while. Just got off the tram when you came outside, wanted a smoke. Noticed you. Couldn't not notice you. You looked like a nervous little bunny out there, just waitin' for a hawk to come and snatch you up."

"So you decided to be the hawk?"

"Yep."

You were both quiet again at this, the perfectly coiled rope now sitting near your feet. Outside, you could hear the clinking of glasses, the drunken laughter of gamblers and bar patrons. Your eyelids were so heavy.

You'd sort of assumed that you would want to cry yourself to sleep after what you'd been through, between the roller coaster of emotions and the general humiliation of it all; oddly enough, you didn't. Instead, you drifted off into a brief, fitful rest, dreaming of disgusting leather gloves and radiation-pillaged skin.

-

The Strip at twilight was quite the sight, the neon and bright colors washed mute by the early morning hues. It would be nice to stop and admire if you weren't so desperate to get out of town.

As much as you were loathe to admit it, the ghoul you'd been with the night before was right; you absolutely weren't cut out for this. You'd hated every single second of trying to entice people to pay you for sex, the way people had looked and leered at you as they'd gone by. Besides, your employers gave you the impression that they didn't have your best interest at heart. They also gave you the creeps.

And if anyone in the future wanted to go further than he had, you now knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't learned some things about yourself.

An unidentifiable feeling passed over you as you thought of him.

You'd awoken, shocked you'd managed to sleep at all, with quite the start, eyes frantically jumping to the clock to find that only about half an hour had passed. To your genuine surprise, the ghoul was gone, several hours still left in the time he'd paid for. The jug of water on the table was empty. You'd waited dutifully, naked on the bed, for the remainder of his time slot. You'd even kept the heels on. At first, you'd wondered if he'd maybe gone to the bar for a drink. But after another hour passed, you were fairly certain he wasn't coming back. Despite yourself, you were strangely disappointed.

At the end of his paid time, the end of your shift, you checked back in at the desk, collected your pay, and immediately went upstairs to collect your things.

Your meager possessions were few enough to fit into a little drawstring; you'd cast a quick glimpse at the destroyed shirt the man had cut off of you, crumpled on the floor with the rest of your uniform after you'd changed back into your dingy street clothes, before tucking it away into the bag. You weren't sure why. After that, you'd tucked the bag up inside your jacket, calmly walked outside for a "smoke", and kept walking until you made it outside the walls of Freeside, feeling like there were eyes on you the whole way. It was only once you were past the border of the junk fences that you allowed yourself to pause and take a shaky breath.

"You made the right choice." came a familiar drawl from behind you.

The voice startled you, already on edge as you worried about being followed from the casino, sending you freezing in the middle of the decaying road. Through the dusty haze, you could make out his hat and coat, emerging from behind a barricade of concrete, smoke in hand. The big gun was back in its place, slung loosely across his broad shoulders.

"You scared me." you hissed, your hand resting on your flying heart.

He tilted his head at you, those hauntingly beautiful eyes scanning you. He gave a shrug, which was very apparently not an apology.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"I dunno." you confessed flatly, trying your best to not fidget in place. "Not here."

He took a long, long drag off of his smoke before dropping it into the dirt, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot before looking up at you underneath the brim of that accursed hat. Everything felt very familiar, all of the sudden. Another transaction waiting to happen.

"Quite the coincidence. I'm also headed 'not here'." he replied, quietly assessing you as he leaned against the barricade, lighting another cig.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, considering some things. But eventually, you replied, tone teasing:

"Looking for some company, are you?"

He smirked at you, smoldering cigarette hanging loosely between those vicious teeth.

"Sure am. Interested?"

You crossed the rest of the way over to him, standing close. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you once more.

"If you've got the caps, handsome."

[retlasute]

hiiiii i love your writing and i've been binging turbinio these last few days completely in love with the main character and something came to my mind while i was reading. Maybe it's a pretty specific request, so you can just do headcanons and i'll be happy 

so, i was thinking while reading Turbinio, that i really see myself in mc because i love collecting and keeping things from the trips i make and if i were on the steel ball run my ass would surely lose bc of all the useless luggage and i was thinking of asking you to write a gyro/johnny headcanons with a reader who is always collecting stones, shells, bones and other useless things along the way 

HAAAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA BECAUSE I WOULD ALSO DO EXACTLY THE SAME THING

Also sorry for the delay in writing your request, I was doing something that wasn't important enough to remember what it was 😭 but I've been thinking about your idea all this time and I hope you like it! ❤️

Headcanons - Reader who keeps strange/inutile/creepy things she finds along the way

◍ Gyro Zeppeli

He honestly doesn't know why he asked you to ride with them.

And every day he begins to question himself more about it.

Surely his impatient ass is always complaining about the constant stops.

''For God's sake, that's a dead beetle, (Y/N)''

And of course, at first you had absolutely no right to opine in anything, as Gyro quickly dismissed it by saying that all you do is put rocks in your bag.

He obviously didn't think twice when Johnny said he saw Diego eating rocks.

''Nyo-ho-ho! (Y/N), did you let him steal your bag?''

How could you explain to that man that a bag of shells was lighter than a teddy bear, and that feathers could adorn your horse?

He didn't really care.

But some days he needed someone to complain about, and Johnny was a saint who rarely did anything stupid enough to divert Gyro's attention from your hobbies.

You also tried your best not to slow them down significantly, but sometimes you couldn't ignore a ring conveniently lost on the sidewalk or an arrowhead in the desert.

Honestly, you don't understand why they haven't abandoned you yet either.

Perhaps it wasn't really that annoying, just unusual.

Sometimes, when you found a knife lost on the ground or a half-buried mirror, Gyro would steal it for him.

Over time, he got used to it and the collector jokes wore off.

He also started to always stop without you asking when he saw something shiny on the ground.

''Huh? Aren't you going to pick that up?''

''It's a shard of glass, Gyro.''

''So what? I've seen you pick up more useless things.''

At a certain point in the race, when you had no more space to carry larger things like lizard skulls or big shells, you simply hung them on your horse.

''You know, if I saw your horse on the road at night, I'd shit my pants.''

That's what he said when you decorated your horse's mane with small squirrel bones, attaching the skull by the jaw in a braid.

And then he goes back to wondering why on earth he asked you to ride with them.

But in the end it's not that bad.

He realized this when he found himself keeping a cool stone to give you later.

Stupid Zeppeli, putting stupid stones in his pocket to give to you.

Even stupider Zeppeli, when he offered you a space in his bag to carry your things, since your luggage was already full.

The stupidest Zeppeli, when he let you decorate Valkyrie with feathers

He's adorable, although you'd never be able to admit it.

✰ Johnny Joestar

Johnny never complained, although at first he agreed with Gyro that it was unnecessary to make so many stops to pick up junk.

But when you found a bird skull and tied it around your neck as a necklace, he became afraid of you.

Being afraid of you, he would never think of complaining about anything.

It was strange and creepy, that's all he thought.

But he liked the shiny stones, although he couldn't remember the names of most of them.

He also thought your feathered horse was pretty, although he was still totally against making braids with squirrel skulls.

''Have you always liked to collect things like that?''

''Ever since I was a kid, I guess.''

''What a strange hobby for a child.''

But he still found it, deep down, quite interesting and strangely attractive.

''What are you going to do with it? It's just an old bone.''

He remembers hearing somewhere that there's no beauty without strangeness, and he thought it was quite appropriate for you.

It wasn't long before he gave you a mother-of-pearl shell.

But sometimes Gyro's bad mood was contagious, and he would try to be kinder than his friend to ask you to hurry up or ignore something.

''I know you like this, but don't get distracted, we're in a race.''

But any “pretty please” was enough for him to give in.

''Right… if it's so important, I guess we can wait.''

He would absolutely never carry a skull in his luggage like Gyro would be willing to.

Instead, he would buy an extra bag in the nearest town for you to carry more things.

"I'm sure we could get the equivalent of this race's prize money just by selling your stuff, (Y/N).''

He's certainly cut his finger with a shark's tooth when he tried to get something from your bag.

Because he's more inattentive to such things, he constantly ends up leaving you behind because he doesn't realize you've stopped to pick something up.

''Hey, Johnny, look what I found!''

He's sure it's going to be some dead animal, so he always has to take a deep breath and prepare himself psychologically whenever he hears that sentence.

''Oh, a rock?''

''It's not just a rock, Johnny. It's a citrine!''

''It's very pretty.''

''Pretty? That's it?''

''What can I say? It's a yellow stone. But you've already shown me ten others just like it.''

''Ah, well… you're right.''

''But it's quite beautiful, you have a sharp eye for finding pretty things.''

He wouldn't show more emotion than that even if you showed him a diamond.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.

i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together

AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️

i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader

warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha

Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.

— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.

— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.

— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.

— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.

— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.

You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.

— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.

— Hmmm. And?

— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.

Now Apollo understood but played dumb.

— I don’t know.

You tapped his thigh with your foot.

— Of course you do.

And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.

— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.

— Well, I suppose.

His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.

— Have you fallen in love recently?

That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.

— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.

— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.

You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.

In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.

You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.

Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.

You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.

The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting.

The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.

You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.

He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.

— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.

— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.

You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.

— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.

— Maybe Nico is scared.

— Does he think Will isn’t?

You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.

— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.

— I don’t know, but I can think of something.

Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.

Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.

—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.

— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?

Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.

— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.

Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.

The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.

— No. From me to you…

[junekissed]

happy ending

member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)

you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 

after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.

you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.

what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?

you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.

with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.

maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.

what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.

from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.

you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.

but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 

you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.

but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.

you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.

“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”

“yeah,” he answers shortly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”

“not hungry.”

“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”

he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”

you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.

an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.

you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.

“i— excuse me?”

“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.

you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”

he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”

you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”

“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”

his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.

he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”

you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”

“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”

“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”

he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”

he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”

and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.

you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?

jun has never just… walked out like that.

his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.

say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?

minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.

there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?

so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?

despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?

it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.

will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.

the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.

after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.

you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.

it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.

you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.

tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.

you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 

instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.

as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 

and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.

you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 

he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 

every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.

when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.

and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.

it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.

“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.

“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”

you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.

you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.

it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.

across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.

why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.

not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.

jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.

he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.

he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.

“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”

with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.

in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.

he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 

he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.

he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.

with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.

he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.

the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.

but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.

he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.

he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 

a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.

he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—

his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 

gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.

this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?

he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.

he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.

there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.

immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.

he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 

that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.

he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.

“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.

“is she there?” he asks anxiously.

“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”

“wait,” jun adds quickly.

the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”

"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—

“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.

jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”

he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”

you don’t reply, so he continues.

“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”

“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.

“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.

“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”

“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”

you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"

“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”

“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.

“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.

“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”

“i will.”

he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.

"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"of course. let me know when you're ready."

half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.

reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.

seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.

"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."

"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."

he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."

the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.

you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."

you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.

"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.

you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 

he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."

"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.

he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.

after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."

you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"

jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."

"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.

now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."

you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.

he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 

"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."

"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."

you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.

"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.

"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.

"you're pregnant?"

you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."

he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.

"well, i was, last night."

"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"

you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."

he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."

"i said it's fine, jun."

"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."

"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."

"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 

you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."

"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.

"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."

"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"

"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."

"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."

you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 

after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."

before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."

"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."

"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."

you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.

"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.

from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.

"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 

"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."

he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."

"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."

he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"

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[tragedry]

hi ry, can you tell us what your fave ashler moment is and why 👀😳

i have a lot anon... like a lot™

so narrowing it down to a single ashler moment is pretty difficult.. but if i had to pick a particular moment that i can't stop thinking about lately, it would have to be this:

EPISODE 57-58 (LET THE ASHLER META POST BEGIN)

idt anyone ever talks about how much ashlyn actually cares about tyler.

we've seen them bicker (like an old married couple) so many times in the webtoon, but this is the kind of moment where you stop and realize that ashlyn and tyler are close. and that they actually trust and care about each other. like a lot.

in chapter 57, during their video call, we get a glimpse of their interaction and it's honestly such an eye opener.

bc we see tyler volunteering to be left behind (out of his need to keep everyone safe and to not be a burden), and ashlyn immediately shoots that offer down with a hard "AND I SAID WE AREN'T GOING TO DO THAT" indicating that they have already had this conversation before, and further emphasizing that she has no plans of leaving him behind. (which not only highlights how they literally bicker like an old married couple, but also how unlikely it is to believe that these two could ever hate each other, so anyone who thinks ashler are trying to slit each other's throat definitely need to re read the source material bc ash would rather eat rocks than leave tyler behind)

(and i love how she even goes out of her way to get mad at him for making light of his current situation. like we can really see how seriously ash took his situation to heart and that no amount of tyler making like of his situation to appease her, could ever make her forget what happened-- which honestly goes to show how: 1.) ashlyn cares about him. and 2.) tyler feels the need to elevate that guilt from her in any way he can.)

i also adore her refusal to leave him behind and how her insistence to stick to their plan goes on for the next two panels or so, not to mention the fact that she literally berates him for his recklessness after waking up from the hospital.

Ashlyn: Not to mention, the stroke from shock could've killed you!

Tyler: Fine, fine, whatever. Stop yelling.

look at his expression from their lil exchange, i love how resigned he is to her nagging LMAO

but going back to my point, the fact that ash goes on to emphasize her point truly highlights the fact that she does not want him to die, making her concern for his well-being quite obvious!

AND THEN WE GET TO CHAPTER 58!!

MAN THERE'S SO MUCH TO SAY!!

(tw for blood up ahead!!)

FIRST OF ALL,

ASHLYN FINDS HIM FIRST.

in a very dangerous, life-threatening, high stakes situation--where every second counts--where tyler's life is literally hanging on by a thread, ashlyn finds him.

she finds him and immediately eliminates the immediate threat to tyler's life.

and that all happens in the blink of an eye,,, well it's probably more than that, but the way these two scenes are drawn is meant to emphasize two things: ashlyn's ability to find tyler and her ability/efficiency to dispose of a phantom in order to protect those she cares for!

and i just love how her expression immediately shifts from concern (upon taking care of the immediate threat) to downright terrified (as soon as she realizes the state tyler is in)

she couldn't even bear to finish her question, and it breaks my heart to see such a haunted look on her face. she is literally faced with the sight of tyler impaled to a tree and loosing far too much blood, and it must have been such a juxtapose to the last time she had seen him (in the hospital, whole and unhurt) that it's no wonder ash literally freezes for a moment here, only for tyler's blood to drip on her cheek.

TALK ABOUT TRAUMA.

i would also like to point out that she came rushing to his aid alone.

with the way aiden and the rest of the group seemed to be looking for her, we can all concluded that ashlyn had been the only one to hear tyler's scream and immediately started running to find him, probably at the expense of leaving the rest of the group in her desperation to get to tyler in time.

and while the rest of the group is obviously taking in the brand new trauma of seeing their friend (brother in tay's case) literally dying in front of them, ash has already recovered enough (or at least has steeled herself enough to find move and focus on the important task at hand)

and it's so important for me to note how she doesn't berate the rest for freezing up.

but she also doesn't coddle them, opting to let them process and handle the situation on their own as she takes in the biggest responsibly (and burden) of climbing up the tree in order to sedate tyler.

literally cannot get over this moment, the slight tremble of ashlyn's hand, the way her voice remains steady as she promises to get him down, followed by tyler's soft "... okay."

(he's obviously in a lot of pain, and talking was probably the least of the things he should be doing, and yet he still felt compelled to answer her)

and can we just talk about the way she was able to hold herself together up until she was able to get down, but immediately had a full body tremble right after.

my poor girl....

chapter 58 truly is one of the darkest moments between ashler (aside from the season finale and the fourth episode following it, which i'll explain in a bit)

i say 'darkest' in the sense that tyler's near death is the manifestation of ashlyn's biggest fear: failing the people she cares about.

her breakdown during episode 52 had been a culmination of having to not only survive but lead her friends to safety from monsters actively trying to kill them every night.

but the tipping point had been failing to stop tyler's fall, followed by having to make the difficult decision of leaving him behind in order to save the rest of her friends, immediately followed by having to see tyler convulsing as soon as they wake up from their trip to the phantom dimension.

could you imagine how horrific the scene is in ashlyn's pov, having to see tyler (someone who normally has a large presence, and easily towers over most of their group) literally looking so helpless in mike's arms?

the realization of ty's fragility, at the fact that all of them are just kids who were thrown into a world fulls of horrific creatures trying to kill them, and having no one else to rely on.. and being shouldered with the responsibility of being the leader...

ashlyn took tyler's hospitalizations (his fall) as a personal blow. a failure that practically leads her to breaking down.

and she had carried that guilt with her, and even when ty had reassured her later on (which is honestly such a good ashler moment btw, feel free to read my thoughts abt it here) it's not something she can easily let go of...

i honestly think that ashlyn still carries the guilt with her--a part of herself still remains haunted by tyler's fall, and she took it as a personal blow.

which leads us back to episode 57-58! where we get to see her practically coddle tyler in episode 57 in her own way (ie scolding him for his self-sacrificing nature and for his recklessness despite the extent of his injury)

and in episode 58, how she had been the first one to find him and was the one to save him (from the phantom) as well as lead the team from extracting him out of the tree.

now that ashlyn has experienced the grief and guilt of failing tyler once, she took it upon herself to make sure it never happens again.

and that's why this particular sequence of events haunts my narrative to this very day, and why ashler has such a chokehold on me.

the idea that ashlyn's protectiveness of tyler stems from her own guilt of failure, along with her growing bond and friendship with him, paired with tyler's trust and growing fondness of her.

(which i've already pointed out before here and here)

all of this to say that ashler is a very compelling ship, with depths and moments that aren't as glaringly obvious, and yet the way in which their relationship has grown and developed throughout the webtoon is irrefutable and becoming increasingly obvious through each episode, especially when you actually take the time to read and check the source material.

anyway, that's the end of my very long ashler meta regarding ep 57-58 (crazy how this isn't even tackling the entirety of the webtoon, but i'll get to that when i have the time to compile each and every moment of theirs and analyze it)

i had a lot of fun talking about them, and i appreciate all the asks y'all are sending me (it's the perfect excuse for me to keep yapping LMAO)

ending this meta with: live, laugh, love ashler ❤️❤️

[ermdotorg]

tmr head canons bc i have so many little thoughts and nothing to do with them.

newt taught himself how to braid/twist 4A, 4B, and 4C hair to help out frypan and alby (and any other gladers with those hair types.)

frypan threw a request into the box asking for a girl greenie at some point and when teresa showed up he was sure it was his fault.

minho (quietly) sings when he's running alone, (even though he doesn't know any songs— think marshall from himym and how he sings everything he does.)

gally snores so loud that it keeps everyone awake so he sleeps alone by the bloodhouse (they can still hear him)

newt and alby talked about thomas and all his questions that night when he first came up in the box, but newt was far less annoyed than alby was.

when teresa showed up she hung around with clint and the med-jacks because she knew she wanted to help people or whatever, and clint got SUPER bothered whenever she'd correct something he did. and she did it a lot.

chuck scared alby while he was in the bathroom one time (he didnt know it was alby) and got only bread and water for dinner. he did it again the next day and hid in newts room in the homestead for half the day before someone found him.

newt bitterly cleans alby's room every few days.

if thomas were to have spent more time in the glade that little corner of the deadheads would've become his and newts spot. they'd leave blankets there and everything.

the gladers didn't know how to spell their names when they first came up so they'd misspell it on the wall then have to cross it out and retry, making it look like they're dead to the greenies who aren't all that observant.

in the safe haven (yk the one where newt is alive and well) newt and thomas always sleep within a few feet of one another so they can decipher what's real when when they wake up from nightmares, (both their nightmares usually consist of losing each other)

in the safe haven minho wakes up really early and runs because it's the only thing that feels right to him.

gosh i have so many of these but i'm done for now— i love all the little glader babies so much my god why couldn't they just be happy together.

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 6: Escape

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

IMPORTANT NOTE: the taglist is getting too long for me to manage, so this will be the last post that I will have a taglist for. i appreciate all the support!!! just be sure to check my blog for future updates. if you aren't on the taglist but asked to be here, either i missed you or tumblr won't let me @ you also, we are nearing the end! I think this is gonna have 8 parts. thank you for your support!!!!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

konig's promise of taking you away at any moment you asked him weighed on you for weeks. the more you grew attached to him, the harder it was to hide your relations with him. you couldn't exactly go on proper dates in his cold, dark room in the castle basement. he couldn't take you on picnics, take you on carriage rides, or anything that any normal couple would do. you weren't a normal couple. you were a princess, and he an executioner. you two were never supposed to even speak with one another.

the one thing, the one romantic thing that you could do in his room, was dance with him. konig didn't know how to dance. he only knew the dance of an axe over the chopping block and how to sharpen its edges with stone. he was hesitant at first, but loved how close to you he could be. he was quite clumsy, and he'd frequently step on your toes every now and then. but each time he did it, you smiled.

"it's okay, konig. you'll get the hang of it," you'd say as you smiled up at him sweetly. he would quietly nod and furrow his brow in concentration as he danced with you.

his hand would be so gently laid on your waist, and his large hand on your shoulder grounded you and kept you in the moment. it didn't matter what mean thing your sisters had said to you, or the fact that you couldn't care less about your provincial duties. when you were with konig, when he was touching you, you were there, and that was all you knew.

but his hood always remained on. you asked him, once, if you could see his face, and all he answered with was a quiet "no" and you never broached the subject again.

...

"konig," you said to him after you two had danced and then made love. truly, made love. it was so soft, and he pressed so many kisses on your neck and boobs and back. konig always grew a little soft after you two danced.

"ja, liebe?" he asked as he gently stroked your hair.

"do...do you think we could...leave, soon?" you whispered as you gently balled up your fist.

his hand stopped in your hair for a moment, but he quickly resumed his gentle caresses. he breathed deeply. "it's as i said. say the word, and we go."

"i...i want to go soon, konig. i don't know where. just far from here."

"how soon?" he asked.

"next week," you said before he could even finish his question. this had been on your mind for so long. konig changed you, the night he asked what you would do if you weren't a princess. you'd been fantasizing about having your own cottage with him, being able to garden and tend to your animals everyday while he was a blacksmith, maybe, or a mercenary. the cathedral ceilings and polished dinner plates of your castle no longer appealed to you.

konig kept caressing your hair. "and how far?"

you gulped. "could we...leave the country? just go to a neighboring one. right near the border."

konig thought for a moment. "ja, we can. i know of a village just beyond the mountains. you will like it. i will build a house for you."

you smiled against his bare chest. "i'll build it with you, konig."

he shook his head gently as he squeezed you. "nein. i will build a house for you, by myself."

"if you insist," you said as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "a house for us, konig. us."

konig was silent for a little while. you were growing worried, but he finally replied. "a house for us, meine Engel. i will build a house for us."

"i've already begun to stow away some of my savings," you whispered as if you feared the stone walls had ears. "we will be set for life."

"do not worry about that, Engel," konig said confidently. "i will take care of you."

"i know you will," you said gently. "but you'll be giving up your profession for me. i want to repay you in anyway that i can."

"there is no need for that," he said quietly as he held you closer. "you are worth more to me than all the riches in the world."

your heart fluttered as you closed your eyes and relaxed against him. your cheeks grew warm and you smiled.

"i love you, konig," you whispered as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. once you processed what you just said, your eyes shot open, but your face stayed glued to his chest so that he couldn't see. you held your breath.

"and I love you, meine schatz," he said as he gently pressed a kiss to your head through his hood. you looked up at him with gleaming eyes, and he lifted his hood up slightly to kiss you.

you made love again that night. the words that had lingered in silence for so long had finally been spoken. he put you in missionary, focused entirely on your face as he filled you so gently yet so fully. his hard, smooth cock dragged slowly along your slick walls, and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you.

"i will do anything for you, Engel," he rasped into your ear as he filled you. "i will take care of you."

"konig!" you moaned. you looked up at him, cock-drunk and in love. "i'm yours. i'm yours." a few tears escaped your eyes.

you kissed him again, and your fate with him was sealed.

...

a few days had passed since that night. the day you and konig were planning to run away was quickly approaching. you had packed a few things in a spare backpack, including the trinkets he gave you through the course of your relationship. you hid the gold entitled to you interspersed through socks and underwear in your backpack. you looked out the window of your bedroom out over the castle grounds, and felt resolved. you were ready to leave this life behind, and just be. with konig.

you got dressed in your room as normal, and made your way down to the banquet hall for breakfast. but when you reached the banquet hall, you found three of your sisters shouting to your parents. your other sisters sat as still as statues at the dining table. all heads turned towards you as you stepped in.

"what's going on?" you asked nervously.

"you harlot!" one of your sisters exclaimed. your mother and father looked like they had seen a ghost. you looked around, and the room was spinning.

"you've been sleeping with the executioner!" another sister yelled as she held up a black executioner's hood. that was one of konig's gifts to you, and you thought it would be kept it safe in your bedside table.

"you went in my room!?" you yelled.

"guards! get the executioner at once!" your father yelled. time began to move slowly. your sisters were screaming, the guards' metal armor clinked and clacked as they ran down to search for the executioner, your mother hugged you tightly in fear. but all you could think, the one thing that managed to keep you grounded in the ensuing chaos, was konig.

you thrashed out of your mother's embrace and ran faster than you ever had in your life to find him. the guards could run, but not as fast as you in their armor. you ran to the only place he would be at this time in the morning.

you burst through the castle doors and ran, panting, up to konig, who was sharpening his axe in the blacksmith's hut. he looked up at you happily at first, but his expression changed when he saw the tears flowing from your eyes.

"konig! konig! they know! they know!" you yelled as you panted. konig looked over you and saw half a dozen guards running towards him with swords drawn.

you looked up at him, your eyes wet and puffy, your dress wrinkled and heels broken.

"come," he said as he picked you up in one motion. you yelped, but held onto him as he ran towards the stables. the alarm bell was ringing in the castle as all guards now saw the executioner running off carrying a princess towards the only escape. your siblings and parents watched from the great porch with horrified expressions.

"i'm so sorry konig," you cried into his shoulder as he ran.

"shh, shh," he soothed between breaths. "i told you i would take care of you, didn't i?"

you nodded and gently squeezed him. you finally reached the stables, which had been unattended momentarily during the chase, and konig threw you on top of the biggest horse before putting on its bridle and getting on in front of you. there was no time to put on a saddle.

"hold on, Engel!" he yelled before smacking the reins against the horse's neck. you held onto his hard, tree-like torso as he kicked the horse with his heels, and it shot off through the stables. the guards that had made it to the stable doors were swept back as your horse sprinted through.

you looked behind and saw that there were now three mounted guards following you. "konig!"

he spurred the horse on faster, but the main castle grounds gate was already closed. "hold on, this will be bumpy!" konig yelled. he sharply turned the horse around and you flew over the castle grounds as he guided the horse towards the hidden exit behind the grounds, past the gardens. the guards' horses were fast, but no match for the bestial horse konig had chosen.

you buried your face in his back as the wind whipped by you and the ground rolled under your feet like waves. the alarm bells sounded louder over the grounds as panic rose, echoing against the stone walls of the castle, and screaming could be heard from servants out in the fields as you passed.

your horse jumped over the hedge at the edge of the grounds, the guards far behind, and you fled with konig through uncharted wilderness with nothing but the clothes on your backs.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hiiii first of all, i really loveeeeee how you write donna and reader's relationship dynamic in your fics. i'm honestly hooked. if you don't mind, can you write g!p donna having a corruption kink and wanting to be reader's first time? :) it doesn't have to have a dark theme or anything of that sort, just donna getting turned on bcs of how young and innocent her maid is and wanting to defile her. you can fill out the rest.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for you support!!!! And thank you for your request too!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Innocence

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, Donna's POV, Donna being Donna

Word count: 7,883

Summary: I just wanna know if she is as innocent as she seems to be...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Did I ask for a maid? Why did you come?” I asked through Angie.

“Oh, well, I don’t know, really, I just…” she said, hesitating, avoiding looking at my face. I couldn’t blame her.

When my eternal solitude was interrupted by the presence of a young girl, I must confess that I thought about getting rid of her. No one had come to my property in years. I thought I had made it clear that I don’t want to be disturbed.

“I just…” I insisted, not wasting time with the puppet. I found her presence annoying, but for some reason, I had no qualms about speaking with my own voice. Her gaze shifted even further and her hands moved nervously in her lap.

I will never tire of seeing a frightened person tremble. You could say I was beginning to enjoy it. The girl drank from the glass of water I offered her, surely searching for the right answer to my abstract question. It was impossible for her to know if I needed a nosy girl to be my maid. Nobody knew me and I preferred it that way.

Hearing me speak threw her off, but, taking a breath, she did one of the things that led me to accept her in my house, a smile, a sincere, innocent one, lighting up her face, bright eyes devoid of malice, with that light a so young girl still retained. There weren't many like her in the village, there weren't smiles like that one anywhere.

“To be honest, I was thinking of going to the castle and asking for a job there, but I don't know, at the last moment, I decided to try with you.”

“Why?” I asked abruptly. Of course, of course, a girl like her had her place in my sister's clutches. That status made that visit much more interesting. Why me and not Alcina?

“Well, I... I couldn't explain it,” she said in a lower tone, shifting nervously in her chair.

“Try,” I said softly, trying to remain calm under her nervous gaze.

“I prefer calm,” she whispered, her voice cracking with nerves, but with sincere eyes.

I laughed involuntarily, shaking my head. Calm? Please…

“What makes you think I'm calmer than my sister?”  I asked, with an unexpectedly amused tone, noticing how the nerves were beginning to rise through my body as well.

“Intuition,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, with a calm face, which no longer showed that initial nervousness.

I shook my head again.

“You don't know me,” I whispered in a dark voice, much more like me. “Aren't you too young to be a maid?” I asked, with that doubt assailing me since I saw her appear at the door.

“I'm 18 years old,” she said, with a tone that betrayed a certain annoyance at my question.

“You’re still too young,” I affirmed, gesturing to Angie to climb onto my lap, to help me to control my nerves, to control my whish to send her out of my property. I was always an impulsive woman and on that occasion I tried to prevent it.

“Age is not important. Since I was very young I have learned to cook, to do the laundry, to clean...”she said, listing what she believed to be her virtues.

She had been mentioned talking about her beautiful eyes, the beauty of her face.

“You seem very sure of yourself,” I commented, studying her gestures, looking for an answer to the question that each of the unfortunate people who dared to bother me should ask themselves: What am I doing here?

“Not really,” she said in a low voice, in a faint whisper. Well, the conversation seemed to be getting interesting.

“I see,” I murmured, nodding. “I think you are very bold to show up on my property unannounced and demand a job that I did not ask for.”

“Boldness is not among my virtues, my lady,” she said in a frightened tone, with her hands shaking, destabilizing her falsely elegant posture.

“Is it among your flaws then?” I asked in the same soft, but hurried tone.

“It depends on what you consider a flaw,” she murmured, lowering her head and looking away.

“Maybe flaw isn't the right word,” I said, getting up from my chair, taking advantage of that moment of weakness to rise above her as what I am, a Lord, a dangerous one. “But it could be a very obvious lack of judgment on your part.”

“Well, I'm still alive,” she said, with that desperate tone of those who beg in church for the end of their misery. It seemed like that, a plea, but I couldn't help but read a certain challenge in her words.

“Yet,” I whispered, clasping my hands in front of my body, wanting to intimidate her. I couldn't tell if I succeeded or not.

“Are my options to die or work for you?” she asked, following me with her gaze, with those bright eyes... And beautiful...

“Which one do you prefer?”  I asked in a mocking tone, starting to get tired of that conversation.

“I don’t consider myself reckless, my lady,” she said, clearing her throat.

Oh, yes, you were.

She could have caught me at a bad time, she could have ceased to exist if I weren’t so…

“What is reckless to you? Dying or serving me?” I asked scathingly, intensifying my attack on her fragile subconscious. A girl as young as her should be running out of my house. She didn’t.

“I guess I won’t know if you don’t hire me,” she replied just as scathingly. Well, that was news.

Most villagers were stupid, living only to pray, work, and reproduce. Their minds were weak, easily controlled. This girl seemed different. Surely that was what caught my attention. Yes, that was surely it.

“Well, let's get this over with,” I said tiredly, bringing my visibly trembling hand to the cloth that always covered my ugly face, letting her see it as a last concession to that strange girl. She would run away, and she would die. “What do you think now? Do you still want to work for me?”

“Yes, my lady,” she said with a low voice, not showing any sign of disturbance, looking me straight in the face.

Nothing, not a tremor, not an involuntary spasm, not a grimace of disgust, nothing.

I was petrified by the sincerity that my words conveyed. No, I didn't need a maid but... Well, it wouldn't hurt to have someone hanging around the house, cleaning it... Someone who, for once, wasn't afraid of me.

“You'll stay in the guest room, upstairs,” I murmured, ashamed of my failure, of not being able to scare that innocent young girl. She smiled, nodding triumphantly. Either she was the stupidest girl in the village, or she was the best actress. Neither my face nor my threats seemed to have any effect on her.

“Thank you, my lady, you won’t regret it, my lady,” she said enthusiastically, making an elegant curtsey and finally disappearing from my sight.

I sighed, clutching my black veil in my hands, soaking it with the nervous sweat emanating from them. I looked at Angie, and she looked back at me, tilting her head like a poor puppy.

“What?” I asked the doll, who seemed to question me about something.

“You like her,” the doll hummed. I shook my head, with a nervous smile.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” I murmured, sighing after that strange conversation.

“You forget that I can read your mind,” the doll continued to insist and I will go with a fiery eye. Angie just laughed.

“She's a child,” I said, sitting back in my chair, denying to myself what that shameless part of my conscience was making me see.

It could be an illusion, the feeling that time had passed in just a blink of an eye, but little by little, I got used to this new life, one in which solitude was increasingly difficult to find.

Everywhere I went, there was (Y/N), doing whatever, with that smile that lit up when she saw me pass by. I ignored her for a while, thus showing my defeat in that dialectical battle that she won. It may not have been true, that her words were not stronger than mine. Maybe her beauty was the true winner of that dark afternoon.

I tried to continue with my boring life despite the presence of those bright eyes, those kind, helpful words, that elegant way of serving me and not lowering her gaze. She was a girl who only wanted to raise her two little brothers. It seemed like too much kindness for a place like this.

My words were scarce, but my thoughts were not. Every gesture, every word, every song she hummed while doing her chores was like a soothing balm for me.

Without wanting to, I found myself looking for her, knowing where she was at every moment, and pretending that I had to go there for some reason. Pride and silence were the two words that accompanied me, a fleeting glance that coincided with yours, that was our only contact.

But rather than admit my weakness for that girl, I preferred to remain calm, to stop chasing her in my thoughts, in my dreams. An obsession that I didn’t want suddenly appeared when, one afternoon, I was able to contemplate why she caught my attention.

“Oh, Lady Beneviento, would you like me to make you some tea?” she asked when I came up from my workshop. Embarrassed for not having been able to concentrate on my dolls, I walked past her, shaking my head, pretending to look for a book with which to stop my stupid thoughts, thoughts about her.

“No,” I answered dryly. She nodded and returned to her constant battle against the dust of the mansion.

A sigh escaped her lips, as if she was also fed up with that absurd wall I put between us. It was protection, not fear, I couldn't be afraid of a stupid mortal like her.

If only you hadn't done that...

Overwhelmed by the heat caused by fighting the dust I myself had accumulated due to my laziness for years, (Y/N) made an unexpected movement, one that caught my attention, forcing my gaze to rise from that boring book.

Silky, shiny hair fell down her shoulders. Her delicate hands combed it. I had never seen, or read anything similar, such a shiny mane, hands that seemed so fragile... At that moment I realized that Angie was right, but I refused to think that I had hired her for that reason.

Seeing that silky mane, I began to feel worse, to notice each and every one of her features. Eyes, nose, mouth, lips. Everything seemed fragile, and untouchable. Her pale skin always stood out through the sleeves of her dress. Not a defect, not a scar, not a mark.

It was as if someone had taken that little doll out of its packaging, as if it had never left that protective box.

At what point did I start comparing her to my dolls? No, not even they were so perfect, so devoid of defects, devoid of the marks that life leaves on them.

The non-existent relationship between us began to fade at the same time as my common sense did. I couldn't deny that I thought about her all the time, with or without light. I couldn't avoid talking to her so that voice, also soft, also lacking the vulgarity of the other villagers, would reach my ears.

She was like a captive specimen, one worthy of study, a bright light that refused to penetrate the darkness of her world, or my world. Finally, I ended up surrendering to the truth of my feelings. I liked (Y/N) and I saw no reason to continue denying it, but I did see a reason to slowly get closer to her.

“Where are you going, Donna?” Angie asked me, walking down the halls next to me. I rolled my eyes at the unbearable harassment of my doll, of myself.

 I had already admitted it. I admitted I liked her. I didn't have to be harassed all the time by that deranged part of my mind.

“To the kitchen,” I murmured, walking faster to lose sight of the puppet.

“Oh, to see our friend, huh?” the doll mocked, making me turn slowly, pressing my lips together.

I didn't answer, I simply continued on my way, the path of the sounds that came from the darkness of the basement.

Once again that melody, once again her soft humming entered my ears to soften my spirit.

“My lady,” (Y/N) said when she saw me enter. Her dress, once again rolled up, let me see on her skin the lack of details, the purity that transmitted the brightness of her paleness.

“(Y/N),” I answered, passing behind her, looking at that shiny hair gathered in a vulgar bun, preventing me from contemplating all its beauty.

“I was making some cakes for dessert,” she explained, with the purity of her hands now covered in flour.

My head then began to wonder what it would be like to sully that innocence with my caresses, a thought that I quickly removed from my mind, shaking my head slightly.

“You haven't put enough yeast,” I said with a frown, distracting my lust with another of my passions, cooking. She looked at me and then at that crumpled mass.

“Oh, maybe,” she said in a casual tone, searching for that object in the kitchen cupboards.

I, smiling at the sight of such erratic behavior, lacking in malice or fear, opened a cupboard, taking out the precious ingredient.

“Wow, it was there…” she said, with a gesture of embarrassment, reaching out her hand to take it, a hand that I pulled back jokingly. Since when did I feel like joking?

“You should focus on your work, you seem a bit distracted,” I said, I still don't know why. She smiled, finally taking the package.

“Yes, I… I'm sorry,” she said in a low voice, as if accepting a reprimand that wasn't such.

“It was a joke,” I said sighing, finding myself with serious difficulties for human relationships, something that shouldn't surprise me.

“Oh,” she sighed, confused, just like me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, wanting to forget that little awkward moment. I will never learn.

“Well, I have everything in control but…” she murmured, looking at that disastrous dough.

“Then I'm leaving,” I said, angrily.

Is this how I would react to her rejection? I was afraid to think about it.

“No, please, I mean, I could use a little help,” she corrected, grabbing my wrist. The heat of her touch penetrated my dress, freezing my breathing. It was a warm, comforting touch.

I nodded, pretending reluctance. She was still my maid, I couldn't think she was my friend or something, if I couldn't do it, how could I get to…? No, basta.

Together, we made the dough for those cakes again. The silence seemed tense, but it was calmed by her smiles. I returned them, without speaking, without saying anything, filling my hands with flour just like her, staining my skin just like her.

“You said you knew how to cook,” I commented amused, seeing the girl's confusion as she continued adding ingredients to the dough.

“I think I've proven it,” she said in that same cheerful tone, arching her eyebrows. I smiled, shaking my head. “But, I was never good at baking.”

“Why do you make cakes then?” I asked, standing behind her, helping her knead. That absurd conversation had made me forget where I was, how close I was to her fruity perfume, how much I could focus on her body, touch it...

“For you, my lady, Angie told me you liked them,” she murmured, nervous for some reason, maybe because of my uncomfortable proximity, maybe because of the fear of being fired for not meeting my expectations. What nonsense.

“Angie says a lot of things, huh?” I said, lowering my tone, speaking unintentionally too close to her ear, taking her hands, those soft hands that I had not had the pleasure of caressing, but that I had imagined every night.

A shy laugh escaped from her lips, letting herself be carried away by my touch, by my hands on hers. She sighed uneasily but relaxed at the same time. Maybe my sudden closeness made her uncomfortable. Maybe that blush on her cheeks had nothing to do with me.

“You see? Try to make gentle movements…” I sighed with the indelible smile that her presence conveyed to me, that closeness, her fruity smell, the untouchable softness of her hands.

I wondered if anyone had been lucky enough to caress that skin before me. A feeling of anger ran through my body at the thought that it could be like that.

“You have to let it rest,” I whispered again, with a soft tone, perhaps too soft. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had suddenly pulled away from my hold.

I was never careful with what I did. I never knew how to be careful. I just wanted not to scare her, to make her want to stay a little longer, just a little longer.

“Okay,” she said, letting the air out of her lungs, but without moving from that position, without letting my hands move away from hers. “Di, dinner is almost ready.”

“Good,” I said, doing what she didn't dare to do, moving away from her captivating presence, slowly leaving the kitchen, imagining over and over how many hands had done what I had, how many stupid people had come to walk that soft path of her skin

Doubt plagued me, jealousy began to cloud my mind, the judgment I had left. I was always possessive, firm in keeping what I considered mine. But, in the case that (Y/N) was mine, an unlikely case, how could I claim my property for a path that others had walked? I couldn't do it.

I'd have to get to know her better.

“Are you expecting visitors, my lady?” the young woman asked, coming up from the basement with dinner, looking curiously at the table I had set, a table with two glasses, two plates, four pieces of cutlery.

It wasn't a declaration of intent, but rather a sign of gratitude for not abandoning me, for not running away that day. Or so I wanted it to seem.

“No, (Y/N)” I said in my dry voice, one that reaffirmed the non-existent power I had over her. With a movement of my arm, I indicated for her to sit down. She looked at me strangely, surely with many questions and no clear answers.

“My lady, I...” she stammered, leaving dinner on the table, clueless, confused by that offer. Please, it wasn't so difficult to know what I intended, at least what I wanted to intend.

“You can have dinner in your room if you prefer,” I said in a tone that betrayed a certain fury, a certain fear of that rejection, one that you wouldn't even know you were doing.

“Do you want me to have dinner with you?” she asked even more confused, with that shy smile relaxing me, letting me know that it didn't seem like a bad idea to her.

“Yes,” I answered looking at her quickly, lighting a candle in the center of the table, keeping my true intentions far away.

“Fine,” she said, nodding, with the smile of unconsciousness complementing her beauty. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Donna,” I said, sitting down once her body was in front of mine, which was accommodated in that strange situation for her.

“Donna,” she repeated, confused by that informal way I wanted her to treat me. I didn't want to be her boss. I didn't want her to be my maid. If using my name was the closest thing to having her close, so be it.

“Come on, you're not working anymore, I don't need you to treat me like that,” I said amused, with a look that was perhaps too shameless, pouring some wine into her glass, which she looked at with distrust.

The dinner went by calmly, silently. I didn't say anything. I didn't dare to ask all those questions that clouded my mind, to take off the weight of thinking who could have been lucky enough to kiss her skin, to have those lips close, to walk the virgin path of her body, if it was that way.

“I thought you would ask me to go out tonight,” I commented, breaking the silence, increasingly uncomfortable. “Today is the harvest festival.”

“Oh, yes, well...” she murmured, lowering her gaze, as if something I had said had offended her. I couldn't believe I was that clumsy. “I don't feel like it very much.”

“Don’t you? Why is that?” I asked, controlling the abruptness of my voice. I was still not exactly charismatic. She simply smiled, sipping some of the wine I poured her.

A dark part of my mind wondered what would happen if she drank a bit more. I released those thoughts as soon as her posture relaxed, ready to talk.

“I don’t really like hanging out with my friends,” she said in a dry, somewhat sad tone. I frowned in curiosity. Maybe I could answer that question I had been asking myself, fantasizing about it for a while.

“Why?” I asked again, with the patience that betrayed my dark intentions. I just hoped that (Y/N) was as innocent as she seemed.

“Well, I… Well, guys are…” she commented, hesitating whether to bring up that topic, that topic I was so hoping for. “Annoying, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” I said, pretending ignorance, pretending I didn’t know what she wanted to tell me.

“They’re always… Thinking about the same thing,” she said amused, blushing from the wine, or from embarrassment, I didn’t know. “Waiting for any opportunity to… Well, to…”

“Don't you have a boyfriend?” I asked, regretting it instantly. That dark part of my disturbed mind was starting to lose control and I, I allowed it.

“What? No,” she said, blinking in confusion, smiling uncomfortably.

I was making her uncomfortable and I… I didn't feel guilty, my gaze darkened.

“Do my questions make you uncomfortable?” I asked with a dark voice, studying her gestures, looking for the lie in that innocent smile.

“No, my la… Donna,” she said, not quite sure of her answer, looking down at her empty plate. The poor thing must have been thinking about the best way to escape. “I just haven't found the right person.”

Right for what?

“I'm convinced there's a huge line of guys waiting for you to choose them, you're beautiful,” I said whispering, pretending to be an accomplice, a friend, one who wanted to help her. I wasn't. I was her shadow, her worst enemy at that moment, she just didn't know it.

“Thank you,” she murmured, confirming that her blush wasn't due to the alcohol.

Interesting

“But I'm not interested in... Boys,” she said in a sigh, her hands shaking with fear, perhaps frightened by what that implied.

“I'm not surprised, you're an intelligent girl,” I said, amused, smiling sinisterly behind my glass of wine. The smile on my face must have given her some clue of my clumsy attempt to court her, but I was still clumsy.

“I don't think so, I just don't want to waste my life next to a brainless idiot, like almost everyone in the village do,” she explained, more relaxed, more uninhibited. She seemed more and more comfortable in my presence, but it was probably just my imagination.

“You're nervous,” I said, glancing at her trembling hand, one that contradicted the feeling of closeness expressed by her smile. “Do I make you nervous?”

She shook her head, her eyes moving away from mine, avoiding my gaze.

“No, I'm just embarrassed to talk about these things,” she said, taking a breath, grabbing her hand so it would stop shaking. “Everyone in the village thinks I'm stupid for... Well, for waiting for true love.”

“Waiting?” I asked curiously, surprised by that delicacy, by that childish thought of finding a love like the one in books. I confess that I also dreamed about that once. Maybe we had things in common.

“Yes, well, it's silly. I just want to be in love,” she said with a melancholic tone, with a fleeting look that quickly went back down to the table.

“I'm sure you'll feel that way someday,” I said, downplaying it, wanting to see that innocent smile again, but wondering why she avoided my gaze so much, why her hands kept shaking.

“Maybe I’m feeling that way right now,” she murmured, making me frown. I barely understood her, or I didn't want to-

“What did you say?” my abruptness scared her again. I saw how she bit her lip. I saw how her body moved unconsciously in the chair.

“I, I should go to sleep...” she stammered nervously, getting up from the chair, something that my instincts prevented making me got up quickly, grabbing her shoulder.

“Are you in love?” I asked, gaining shameless courage, approaching her ear. She trembled, her skin burning with shame, that skin I knew had not been defiled by unknown hands, only by mine.

“I don’t know,” she said with a broken voice, letting me get a little closer, my fingers running over her skin, tickling her.

I smiled, sensing a small victory, the successful approach I had towards her body. She smiled at me and moved away, it seemed like she was going to say something, but no words came out of her mouth, not a sound, only her steps walking towards the stairs expressed her nervousness for an unknown reason, which I wanted to know.

That night I couldn’t sleep. My head was spinning about my discoveries. To think that this young, beautiful, good girl had feelings for me was crazy, I couldn’t accept it, despite the obsession I felt for her.

But there was something, a revelation camouflaged in her words, in her gestures, one that made me sigh, that made my body tense. No, she had not been corrupted by the pleasures of the flesh. She was a doll that still remained in the window, waiting for someone to take her. Could I be that someone? Just thinking about it drove me crazy.

The days continued passing, and my approaches caused a small shock in the young woman. Always nervous, always trembling when my words reached her ear, when my hands went down her waist in a loving way, in an innocent way, innocent like her.

But not even her receptivity to my impudence could make me take the desired step, that my thoughts would stop being thoughts, and become reality. Maybe she thought I was stalking her, that I was playing with her.

But, if that were the case, wouldn't she have fled already? I didn't stop her, I didn't want to. If her mind was thinking about me, I couldn't stop it, manipulate it. Maybe I was making things too complicated.

One morning, like any other, I was working on my dolls, isolated from the world and from her, distracted by the smell of fresh paint, by the clothes on that porcelain so impure compared to her skin.

Imagining, daydreaming was always one of my favorite hobbies. When I met (Y/N) I couldn't help but do it more often. I imagined her smile, her hands, her hair dancing to the sound of soft music while my hands rested on her hips, on her skin, while exploring every hum of her purity.

None of that was enough when I finally knew what her touch felt like, how soft her glowing skin really was, her small, thin body, her tender gaze, the youth and innocence that her smile expressed.

But there was something else, something that prevented me from concentrating that morning. That visible innocence was also a real one. Her childish longing for true love had pushed her into solitude, into voluntary abstinence. I don't know why I wanted to know. Now I couldn't get it out of my head.

What would it be like to be the first to navigate her waters? To corrupt, to love, none of that could get out of my head. To take something pure, something innocent, and deform it in my hands, deform it to make her mine, so there would be no one else where no one had been. It was too exciting for someone like me.

“Cazzo…”  I cursed, dropping the brush, which trembled in my hand.

Those impure visions of her body being defiled by me were too unbearable. I couldn't concentrate, my mind wandered through her legs, her skin, her hair. I imagined holding that shiny mane while I finished off her innocence, while the moans took away her kind words and her dreams of remaining intact before knowing true love.

It wasn't the first time my body reacted to the stimuli of my mind, but that day maybe it was too much. I saved those moments for the nights, for when the light didn't illuminate my lust. Thinking about her, day after day, hour after hour, had made me become a sinful being, a being who wanted to take the light of her innocence with her, hoping to illuminate my own darkness.

I looked to one side, to the other. There was no one, no one who could interrupt the desires of my body. It was not the time, it was not the place, but it was her. Like an unbearable desire, one that asked again and again to be fulfilled, my own body surrendered to those images that my mind formed.

Wanting to end those thoughts, I thought it would be a good idea to give free rein to my needs, to focus my attention on my favorite doll and not on that impure porcelain. Slowly, I caressed my erection over the dress. A shiver ran through my body as I did so.

It was not my hand, it was hers, it was those soft hands covered in flour that touched my body, it was that vision of innocence broken by my caresses, that mark of power and position that meant being the first.

Not wanting to make me wait, I put my hand inside my dress, releasing the pressure between my legs, imagining her in a thousand and one ways, looking at her face of pleasure where it wasn't, imagining her moans even though I'd never heard them.

I didn't want to rush, but I didn't want to wait either. Just thinking that my hands could be hers made me almost force myself to moan while I discreetly masturbated. Nothing, neither her youth nor her kindness made me stop. I wanted to continue, I wanted to imagine what it would be like to make love to a girl like her, a girl without bad thoughts, feeling only the pleasure the image of true love formed in her mind.

I murmured her name several times. I pretended with my soft movements a desired intrusion, a conquest of a virgin territory, planting my flag on her summit, taking her to the top, making her not want anyone else to do it.

The end was near, I could feel it. My movements stopped being soft, my hand moved quickly and my body was agonizing to be released. The sound of the workshop door startled me, bringing me back to my dolls, away from the image of her naked and desecrated body, desecrated by me…

“Donna? Can I come in?” It wasn't my imagination, it wasn't my murky thoughts.

It was her voice echoing off the basement walls. Sweating, I wiped my forehead and put my shame back in its place, not knowing if I wanted to scream, or smile when I knew it was her.

“Of, of course,” I said trembling, closing my eye so my excitement would relax, so my lust wouldn't corrupt her voice.

She entered slowly, carrying a plate in her hands, with a triumphant smile, approaching me.

 No, don't get so close, I'll end up losing control…

“Look, the cakes are ready,” she said gracefully, coming closer irremediably, showing me a plate full of those steaming sweets. I looked at her and smiled nervously, something she noticed right away, relaxing her expression. “Are you okay? You’re sweating…”

Her brow furrowed as she noticed my agitated expression and she ran a soft hand over my forehead, checking my temperature. I hoped I wouldn’t give myself away.

“You’re really hot,” she commented. “Are you feeling sick? Are you having a crisis?”

My breathing sighed unpleasantly. I wish she hadn’t had to deal with my psychoses, I wish she hadn’t had to. After all, I’m not okay in the head, and I’m ashamed that she knows it.

“I’m, I’m okay,” I said nervously, moving her hand away from my face, something I didn’t think through. Her touch was still soothing, comforting. “They smell good,” I said, faking a smile, reaching out to grab one of those steaming cakes.

Maybe that way I’d stop thinking about biting you.

“Wait, wait, they just came out of the oven,” she said, stopping my hand with a soft blow, making me step back with a somewhat dark look, one I couldn't avoid when someone dared to contradict me. “Let me do it.”

With those soft, pure hands, (Y/N) took one of the pastries, blowing on it with those addictive lips, before bringing her hand closer to me so I could take a bite. I don't think I even knew where I wanted to take a bite, and it was better that way.

My mouth was filled with the sweetness of the cream, which, accompanied by her bright and expectant eyes, formed a mess in my head, bringing back those images that I shamefully pushed aside when she appeared to bother me in my lust.

The sweet taste, just as I thought her lips were, the soft touch of butter, how I imagined her bare skin would feel to my touch. That whole innocent moment turned into something unbearable, erotic.

“How is it? Is it good?” she asked, fidgeting nervously, waiting for my answer, which was taking too long to arrive.

I, tired of imagining, tired of not knowing how to read her mind, of not being able to cross that ocean that separated me from her feelings, stood up, savoring that sweet cream, imagining things I don’t regret.

Under her confused gaze, I acted, taking the plate of cakes from her, leaving it on the table where I pretended to work on my dolls. My mischievous hands traveled to her face, trapping it between them, not letting it escape.

I pulled slowly, but agitatedly, with my breathing rising and falling in my chest. I didn’t think about it, I did not even stop to look at her face. I simply let myself go, crashing my lips against hers, savoring that sweetness that I so longed for.

(Y/N) remained motionless, my mouth devouring hers, but she did nothing. Maybe I had gone completely crazy, but I didn't want to stop anymore. Her lips were the best of ambrosias, especially knowing that mine were the first.

“It's delicious,” I whispered in her ear, running my hand through her hair, releasing that ridiculous bun, the one that hid the beauty of her shiny hair. Her gaze dropped to my lips, her mouth half open thinking what to say to my unbridled attitude.

She looked at me for a moment, before closing those bright eyes and throwing herself at my lips, surprising me, making me sway on the spot.

What did that kiss mean? I didn't know, nor did I want to know. I just wanted to continue, to continue enjoying that fruity sweetness.

“Donna, I...” she murmured, moving away from my hungry lips, from my desire caressing her skin. She seemed hesitant, but she made no effort to move away.

“Stai zitto,” I said, abruptly, with that dark voice that said there was nothing that could stop me, not when I was so close to defiling the paradise that was your body.

“Please, I just, I just want to know if…” she insisted, putting both hands on my chest so my kisses would leave her alone, something that made me groan. She had to be mine. I had to be the first.

“You want this, don't you?” I asked with false confidence, seeing in her beautiful eyes a veiled approval. She lowered her gaze, relaxing her hands on my chest, slowly lowering them, investigating the unknown corners of her innocence.

“I just want to know if you love me as much as I do, if I can give myself my heart without you breaking it after… Breaking me,” she murmured, with a tear running down her face. I picked it up, removed that symbol of sadness from her perfect, pure face, one that would stop being so as soon as her stupid doubts allowed me to.

“I don't intend to break you,” I said, caressing her cheek, lifting her chin so her eyes looked at me, so my chest could feel that pang of pleasure looking at her gaze. “I just want to make you mine.”

“Are you doing it because you want to? Do you love me too? I need to know, Donna, please,” she insisted, pushing my hand away.

Love, I hadn't stopped to think about that. My obsession and my lust had been stronger, hiding deep in my soul that innocent, noble feeling, that feeling of love, of being in love. There would only be one way to know it, breaking that innocence that, against all odds, I was in love with.

“I do it because I want to, and because I love you,” I said, sure of my feelings.

Confused feelings, ones I hadn't thought about. Her smile returned to her perfect face, her hands wandered around my waist. My kisses clouded her doubts again. The hungry gasps of my desire silenced her possible protests. A girl like (Y/N), innocent, pure, was being seduced by the face of evil, by a monster like me, pretending to take what was so precious to her. No declarations of love, no nice words. None of that was enough reason for my body to stop asking me to take hers.

With a sudden movement, I took her in my arms, moving all those impure dolls out of the way from the table. Now she was my doll, one that would no longer be prettier than porcelain, one that would no longer be a new doll, she would be my doll, only mine.

“Please, be gentle,” she asked when my hands went up the path of her virgin legs, along those paths that I walked, those places where no one had ever been.

A part of me took pity on her trembling body, forcing me to nod with a sigh. I said nothing else, she said nothing else.

My lips, my tongue, dominated her skin, marking her in an incessant, dominant way. She was mine, she always would be. I would be the first and the last to desecrate the perfect shine of her skin, of her lips.

My hands were thinking otherwise, reaching that silent goal that I imagined every night, that wetness that I never thought I would feel in someone as pure as her. She was mine. She would be mine. That wetness my fingers felt only made me close my eye, moaning for the most intense feeling in life, anticipation.

Now I feel that I could have done more, that I could have loved that girl as she deserved and not as an object to break, to paint with the brush of my lust. At that moment I didn't think about it. There was only one thing I wanted, and that was her, it was her body.

After caressing her wetness, moving my fingers around her clit, I decided that playtime was over, that it had to be done before something stopped her from continuing. But there was still an obstacle to avoid, something that she might not imagine, despite having lived with me for so long.

The pressure on my underwear was released by my hand, thus displaying my shameful desire for that purity between her legs, a wet, reddish, hot purity. She moaned, just as I imagined she did, shyly. I wondered if she had ever touched herself. That made me more nervous, studying those mischievous eyes that went down between my legs.

“You're not surprised,” I murmured, confused for not seeing an ounce of fear or disgust in her features. My fingers continued to work on her folds while my other hand massaged my trembling erection, upset for not having been able to free itself as it would have wanted. Nonsense, that was much better, the moment that was about to come, was much better.

(Y/N) shook her head, an expression of terror forming in her eyes.

“It is going to hurt?” she asked, watching my hand playing with my body, calming that anxiety to break that purity.

I didn't know what to say. I figured there was no need to lie. Even if the truth made her want to run away, I wasn't going to allow it, not when I was that close.

“Maybe,” I answered passively, moving a little closer, making my body match hers, my shaft impregnated with her wetness.

I could see a confused expression on her face, eyes closed, squeezed to resist any temptation to leave. My conscience attacked me again, just when the tip was already bordering her entrance. I sighed, bringing my hand to her cheek, forcing her eyes to look at me.

“If you really want it, you'll have to hold on,” I said, perhaps being the opposite of what I wanted to be for her. I didn't want to be a predator, an evil woman. I wasn't forcing her, she loved me.

“It's okay... Just, just hold my hand,” she murmured, playing with my now free hand, looking at me with fear, but also with desire. I couldn't help but smile when I could see that lust in her eyes, that lust she felt for the first time, with me.

Gentleness was not something I could use on that occasion. I didn't want to cause her pain, I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. Corrupting her purity wasn't easy, but it was something I wanted.

As my erection began to sink into her depths, I could feel her hiss of pain, the movements of her body wanting to escape the intruder. I did as she asked, hold her, comfort her while my mind felt an unimaginable relief. It had been me. I took her innocence, something I would never get back.

“Does it hurt, tesoro?” I asked, slowly adjusting myself, repressing the moans I felt as I felt her walls stretch when I entered her completely. (Y/N) nodded, squeezing her eyes shut, relieved by my soft caresses.

The sensation drove me crazy, it was much better than anything I had experienced before. That tightness, that shy and embarrassing wetness, that intense embrace with which my erection felt hugged, pressed…

There was nothing better, there could be nothing better. Once, I could only experience that tight embrace once. I did not deny myself the pleasure, I stopped caring about her pain, one that would soon disappear, that was already doing so, something I could see from her increasingly relaxed expressions.

“I'm going to move, okay?” I said, not as a question, but as a threat, a statement that would be fulfilled, whether her wanted it or not.

She, surprisingly, nodded, letting a moan escape from her lips that was less shy, something that made me smile, something that made the pleasure I already felt intensify.

My hips moved slowly, sliding inside her body, conquering that lonely place, that place that no one had reached. I was the one doing it, I was the one moaning when I was inside her body, when I felt her innocent walls stop being innocent, holding me tightly and preventing me from moving as fast as I wanted.

“Donna,” she moaned, letting my hand go, a hand she had previously held tightly. I continued with my movements, covering her virgin body with lust, enjoying the sensations that being inside of her caused me. “I, I feel… It feels… Good…”

Those words only served to embolden my hips, to make my moans more intense. I closed my eye, the only way to not get carried away too much. I was defiling her, I wanted to enjoy it, not let the rush take away the pleasure in the same way that I took away her innocence.

I couldn't be completely sure, but her movements also accompanied mine, as if a part of her, long hidden, had come out at that moment, had covered her sweet thoughts with a dark, wet, sticky lust.

A gasp left her lips, her whole body tensed, succumbing to my movements, to my gentle, but firm thrusts, to the caresses of my hands on her body. I noticed it, I noticed how her walls danced with my shaft, how they gripped it mercilessly, preventing me from moving, leaving me a moment to enjoy her first orgasm, the one I caused, and that only I would cause.

I moved, giving myself a moment to enjoy her first orgasm, the one I caused, and that only I would cause.

With her relaxed body and her gaze begging for more, I stopped being so subtle, I let my body, the dark side of my head to take control. The gasps replaced the soft moans. The sound of her wetness being defiling reached my ears like a signal, like the soft melody that announces an apotheotic end.

With one last thrust, at last, I released myself, I did it inside of you, without asking you, I didn't want to hear a protest, a complaint, I wanted it to be like that, to remain inside of her. I wanted my wetness would slide down your legs, I wanted that feeling of making you mine to be so intense, to be indelible for your body.

“Donna,” (Y/N) said when my breathing relaxed, when I stopped looking at my seed slipping out of her body. I couldn't say how long I was contemplating the masterpiece of my desire, what I caused in her innocence.

“Mm,” I murmured, smiling tenderly, grateful for this opportunity she had offered me. “Do you regret this?” I asked a nervously, not knowing how to interpret her look.

She shook her head and I sighed in relief. I didn't want to be a monster. I just wanted your innocence, your soul, your heart.

“No, I…” she stammered, crawling out of my now soft shaft with an obscene sound. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I answered, unsure of what those words meant to her.

“You are my true love.”

[cuntylouis]

what i don’t get is if armand loved louis lol i mean,i guess he did but i really don’t know and assad on sdcc iirc kinda said he didn’t he just wanted what louis had to offer or something like that. also many people say armand is actually all about lestat so idk,if he is,i hope louis really didn’t love him so much bc damn the guy gaslighted him and made him a prisoner while pining for lestat??? crazy shit if so and so unfair to louis. i really don’t know why nobody questions armand side,the guy orchestrated a public humiliation,almost killed him and killed his daughter but somehow is louis’s love into question but not armand’s 🤔

I think him loving Louis and wanting him for what he had to offer aren't mutually exclusive. It comes down to Armand being a selfish creature with this greedy emptiness that can never be filled. Armand is strongly drawn to Louis who's so full of life and emotion because he hopes Louis could complete him and bring him alive, but instead he ends up snuffing out all that life in Louis. Even in healthy passionate romantic relationships people often feel like the other person completes them and their life and gives them something invaluable, and what makes it different from unhealthy/abusive relationships is that you still see your partner as a full person on their own and respect their needs that could be different from yours. Armand constantly prioritizes his own needs in his relationship with Louis, it's all about Louis filling the role and purpose Armand wants. I think Armand does love Louis but that empty despair inside him rules his existence and ultimately everything, even his love for Louis and for some few other people, has to serve that emptiness.

That's actually an interesting point about how Louis' love for Armand is often questioned but Armand's love for Louis rarely is. I think Louis is much more loving and forgiving than people give him credit for. Throughout the show we constantly see him express kindness and forgiveness toward both Armand and other characters, often more than they give to him. I think in 2.05 that's particularly clear where after Louis and Armand's fight and Louis' subsequent suicide attempt, Louis is the one apologizing and trying to connect with Armand and be kind to him, whereas Armand is cold and angry and intentionally hurts Louis physically and emotionally. In the beginning of their relationship Louis forgives Armand for trying to kill him, their relationship is arguably already ruined from that moment because of Armand betraying him like that, but he still forgives him. He gives Armand so many chances, and when Claudia tells about Armand's threats he still wants to give him a benefit of doubt. Even in Dubai he's deeply upset when he realizes Armand has messed up with his memory and you can see from his face that a part of him still wants to believe Armand when he says he didn't do it or did it with Louis' permission. Even though Armand says he couldn't trust Louis' love to last that long, Louis is actually remarkably loyal despite Armand not really deserving it and it's Armand who isn't giving Louis that trust and loyalty back.

Wrt people who say Armand is just all about Lestat they're usually book fans who watch the show through those lenses. In the books Lestat is the center of the universe and Louis mostly just a stick figure. In the show Lestat and Armand (and other characters like Daniel) are likely to perceive their relationships in the context of their relationship with Louis

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Shiva General Hcs (Record of Ragnarok)

A/n: Normal schnormal human reader. Shiva is a meanie but is very affectionate. I also have only watched the anime, so I'm only making bout 6-??? Assumptions and making the gods win bc eh plot reasons. Also platonic relationship with his wives ✌ 257 words I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS GOODBYE. Failing as a writer 💀

CW: Half-proof read (Yeah yoikes but this gets real long after rereading it a thousand times over) Kidnapping, forced affection, forced marriage, isolation, neglect, and Shiva being an arse-hole but a lover boy 🤦 (??? Weirdly enough)

I also just learned that the reason why Shivas first wife isn't known is bc Paravati is the reincarnation of Sati (Shivas first wife) after she died. So technically only 3 living wives in total. (Plz correct or educate me on Hinduism if you can!)

The more you know 💁🏻

Why he truly added you to his column of lovers is a question you may never have answered.

By the naked gods eye, you were nothing special really. Just another dead human in the heavens who is also spectating the final battles.

The afterlife isn't so bad once you've been in it for enough. Valhalla can be peaceful and honestly perfect at times when gods aren't feuding.

Once you heard the gods were holding an important final battle that would determine mankind's fate, it shocked you. Would that also determine human souls in Valhalla? What if the humans were to win? (As blasphemous as that sounded)

The ideal afterlife was supposed to be free of stress, anxiety, pain, emotional distress, and so on, but no. Of course it would never be like that. That's only wishful human thinking.

If there were no potential penalty for badmouthing high status idles, you'd say that the gods were worse than humans when it comes to ego.

Now, Shiva doesn't believe in love at first sight. The stories involving all four his wives have been a adventurous and treaded journey. He does not fall so quickly for such average beings.

But he's seen you before in the arena. Beyond the sea of humans, you stand with only yourself. You chose your seat in a secluded area and paid full attention.

As much as you seemed to isolate yourself from other souls, your eyes burn a similar passion for chaos and a strange fascination for the situation.

It caught him off guard for a second. Strange isn't it? Unlike all of these other ignorant ruffians, you enjoy a good lesson. You're not here just for the fighting and trembling anticipation that comes with the final results. You wanna observe things in educated fashion.

It's cute in a way. A lowly human soul so fixated on the final battle. If you get lucky, (his definition of lucky) he might recognize recognize you later.

Low and behold, he did. Your presence so quiet, yet so mesmerizing. Not interested in anything other than yourself and these sequence of events... How could you not be as entranced by him as he passes by? Yes a sparing surprised glance is earned, but you continue your path. How could he make you turn his way as he does for you?

Shiva will not take you so quickly. He does have a place in the arena, so he can't risk the chance of you not being in his 24/7 supervision for the first week or so. (Plus the soul threatening fight too but yk)

Though he will approach you! Somewhat teasing you in a way. Your fearful face and neck craned upwards while he is hovering over you excites Shiva. A burning dwells in his core, and you make him shiver.

It's only small talk and "hinting" at certain things to come, but it's not too forward.

"Hey, it's you! The lonely human! Yeah I know you. I could feel your eyes from across the arena y'know. For a weak soul, you really like this sort of thing huh?"

During his fight, not only did Rudra and the many people cheering for him motivate him to win, but also did your presence! The crowd is a blurry swarm of colors and movements alike, but he could practically feel your eyes on him.

He knew you couldn't stay away for long. I mean, how could you? Shiva is just perfect for you, and you've basically said you wanted to marry him based on your reaction to his fight.

While he takes his time healing his arms and various wounds, he keeps up with the battle scores and your whereabouts.

He's the god of destruction, and is very resourceful when he needs to be. His free time is filled with researching you on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and sometimes Saturday when his wives are busy.

By the time the gods win, Shiva has healed up pretty good thanks with the help of medical attention and the abilities of his wives.

He talks about you to his wives pretty often, and they don't mind. As long as it's what Shiva wants, then it's okay with them! Three of them has been okay so far, what's one more? The more to love right?

You're shocked with the results of the final battle. Of course this was the obvious end, but it was nice to have hope for humanity for once. People came together regardless of religion, and now all of living human kind is being erased

It seems the gods didn't care about human souls the had pre-existed in Valhalla, so you were safe for now.

Or so you thought.

You sat in your humble home, taking in the day you just had. The next thing you know, you're being forcefully taken out by a strong force.

Shiva tries to go easy on you, but you're just so damn cute, it kills him! He's super energetic and doting.

"Oh Y/n, you're so adorable. Ack, hey! Fightin now huh? I thought you saw my bout. What are you being stupid for?"

Marries you immediately. Only gives you the most enchanting and personal experience a soul could ask for.

The honeymoon is one like you've never experienced. Shiva has married four times. He knows how these things work. (Take that as you will, I don't write nsfw lmfaooo)

Shiva is painfully aware of how weak humans are compared to the average god, so he tries to not smother you too much. (AKA not smooching you once or twice every minute or so)

He really finds humans interesting, so he pokes and prods about in your personal space all the time. Privacy? Bodily autonomy? What's that?

Let's you roam free in his quarters but only let's you speak to his family and trusted ones. Rudra also finds this interesting. Shiva has fallen for a human soul? Now that's crazy talk!

Shiva would never want you to feel inferior to his wives just because they're powerful gods and you're not. You're his human. There's no one else who deserves you more than him!

But seriously, he loves learning about the ways of humans. The couple of humans who had attempted the final battle were spectacular and fought pretty damn hard, so he often wonders what others do.

"C'mon I know you're not that tired yet. The humans I've met have taken this kind of thing well before... What? Seriously can't keep up? *Sigh* Fine, get over here."

Things like modern technology isn't uncommon in Valhalla, so he'd most definitely want to know about your online life too.

Shiva is more of an active guy, so he isn't on his phone a lot. That doesn't mean he isn't inexperienced though.

He is also big on affectionate touch. Everywhere you go, he's holding some part of you. One arm around your waist and another on the top of your head.

Will MANHANDLE YOU like no tomorrow. Wherever he turns, you turn. Even when you're in the middle of reading something, or working on an arts and crafts project, he does not care. When he needs you, he will have you.

You're in front of something he needs to get to? Legit picks you up and places you aside. One the most embarrassing things to ever happen with him. You especially hate it when it's in front of his wives. They playfully laugh, giggle, and tease you for being so, as they say, cute.

They adore you. You're like another sibling to them. They also dote on you and have you help around a lot as it substitutes as hang outs.

They fight over you. A lot.

Durga is the one who takes you out a lot for physical activities. She is very ambitious and encouraging.

"Yeah, You finally got it Y/n! Whoo, you're badass compared to me."

Butters you up way too much despite the bold faced truth.

Unfortunately is the one who enforces Shiva's rules for you the hardest.

Kali is so charismatic and can be the most fun if you're rebellious. Despite her soft appearance, she is CHAOTIC. Although she stays loyal to Shiva, she doesn't mind breaking a few small rules here and there to have some fun.

She's the one who gets you in the most danger and trouble.

Shiva is VERY strict with you despite all of the freedoms he's allowed you. You're human, fragile mentally and physically. So when you are caught with Kali, he can't help but lecture the both of you.

Kali has been with him for a long time, so she takes the blame for herself. She knows she can persuade him if she tries hard enough.

Partavi is so kind and gentle. You two usually spend time inside and just casually hanging out. Cooking, learning about Hinduism, house keeping, keeping your mental and spiritual state in check, and all sorts of calming things.

Kali and Durga literally ought to tear each other apart when fighting for You attention. Partavi has to keep them in check so Shiva doesn't have to step in himself.

Complying with this new afterlife will grant you a very happy eternity and a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome.

You're surrounded by riches and loving powerful gods who want nothing more than to see you joyful. Who wouldn't want that?

Well, not you... You've lived your life! Yeah it may have been cut off short by quite a bit, but all you want to do is to finally be at peace. That shit was way more than enough. You really did not need any more issues.

Being strangely unaffected by the wipe out of Earth's humanity was just the height of it, but being kidnapped by one of the succeeding gods of the final battle was plain horrifying.

Refusing Shiva's wives affections isn't too bad in itself, but moving away from him is unacceptable.

Keeping to yourself in their shared room, not speaking to any one of them, refusing to accept their gifts and invitations, not looking after your health, pushing Shiva away when he tries to get close, and worst of all, saying you wish to not be with him.

Shiva is an emotionally driven guy, so you disobeying only displeased him further. Punishment is in order no?

Shiva won't beat you into submission, but he will intimidate and deprive you. Since you want to be so ungrateful, then maybe you should be on your own for a while huh?

You're literally thrown into a cold room with no windows and are left there for who knows how long. No one to check on you. Nothing to hinder your obvious chosen solitude. No food. No water. No one to pity you. Just the thought of sun rising and setting outside of your silent enclosure.

You hate it. You thought being alone was in every way better than being with them, but you realize that you don't like being lonely.

You despise the churning acidic bubbling in your stomach. The way your chapped lips stick together. No matter the silks and fabrics in the room, you never feel quite warm enough yet.

By the time they finally open the door, letting light pour into your room once more, you're running into whoever's arms is there.

You want- no, you need to feel something. To know that you're free of that confinement. To be free of your one and only being. Shiva's familiar warm blood pulsing through his body confirmed it.

Shiva of course, is pleased by this development. Humans will fight like hell, but will succumb one way or another.

"You miss me that much Y/n? Finally learned your lesson? Hehaha, I knew you could do it."

But if you had tried to escape? Oh hoho you are in for one big ride.

Shiva is infuriated. His rage is unlike any other. When he is hit with a hard pang of anger, all sense disappear and the only thing he can think about is how terrible the heat of emotions feel.

He is only ever at your side, so you being able to slip away can be so very rare. You won't be roaming outside his territory for very long as it would only last a couple of moments.

Was the sunlight hitting your form willing for once worth it? Was the rushing adrenaline of possibly achieving personal autonomy again worth it? The gleeful smile and feeling of heavy panting as you ran out gave you a sick, twisted feeling pleasure.

As Shiva topples you to the ground, his weight and arms hit you like a truck. If you were still alive, you'd say your soul was knocked out of you.

Too infuriated to even speak of his disappointments, he dislocates your shoulder. Your scream of agony echos throughout the secluded area, but it doesn't reach anyone.

You're taken back in for a full nights punishment. What made you think you'd be able to outrun Shiva? A final battle champion. The god of destruction. One who destroys, creates and rebuilds the world anew again.

The most damage you'll receive is some fractured bones, but nothing too bad. None of your skeletal structure is sticking out, but you can sure as hell feel the shattering.

You are of course treated. Shiva feels little sympathy for your injuries, but he does pity that sad pout you adorn in your medical clothing.

"Sorry Y/n. I was only trying to protect you, but it seemed like you couldn't understand that. I still love you so very much, so please forgive me."

This guy is the ultimate love bomber smh

Paravati, Kali and Durga don't like when you get so harshly punished like that, but they know it's what must be done.

If you ever actually get out for longer than expected, (which is mighty fucking impressive) those three will be on the hunt for you with no stop until you are found again.

And even if you had somehow gotten away, where would you go in Valhalla? God, you can't go to Zeus for help. He would laugh in your face and hand you off to Shiva like every other "lost belonging". Any other god would do the same.

Maybe Buddha could help? Then again, just because he fought for humanity doesn't mean he's your friend. Especially because it would be him against another god.

You can't return to your old home. It's where they had taken you from in the first place.

Other godly territory can be scary. Many myths and legends you might not know of, lowly salty gods may attack you, the social separation between humans and gods, and not to mention the people who inhabit the land there themselves.

Shiva would probably put a missing souls report out there for bounty if he had gotten desperate anyway.

So perhaps it's best to just, leave things as they are. Just to avoid trouble you know? Yeah, trouble.

[martian-astro10]

we were studying about schizotypal personality disorder, and it's so weird, cuz they went "If you like spending time alone you have this" "if your ideas are different from others you have this" like, BE SO FOR REAL RIGHT NOW. It's literally a big money making pharmaceutical thingy and nobody can convince me otherwise. This is how they create this herd mentality, and I hate how nobody questions it, like nobody finds it weird?? It's literally not a disorder. There are a lot of mental disorders but this is not it, atp, they're just creating new things that don't even exist. Create new things, diagnose people with it and give them placebo medicines, great idea, isn't it?

I honestly hate hate hate how people don't use their brains, like if allopathy was so advanced and so great then why haven't they managed to find a cure for endometriosis. why have they not been able to create a birth control without side effects. why is it that they haven't been able to find a cure for thyroid? they give you a medicine for it and then you just have to keep on taking it for your entire life or they recommend removing your thyroid. why is it that their every solution consists of taking out the body part that has the problem instead of healing it??

It's annoying how people just believe stuff without ever questioning it. There are so many disorders that aren't even disorders. so many women are diagnosed with BPD despite them not actually having it. I do believe in vaccinations, and autism and adhd but I also don't believe in a lot of other stuff, it really doesn't make sense to me. I know so many girls who have such severe period pains despite not having pcos or endometriosis and the doctors just go "oh well, it's normal", like no the fuck, it's not. You shouldn't be having period cramps to the point where you are unable to do daily activities, and the fact that doctors just normalize it is absolutely baffling to me. the worst part is that the girls don't seem to give a shit about their body either, like, they have period pains and immediately swallow a BC pill, like your body is trying to tell you something, the severe cramps are an indication of a more serious underlying issue and you're just suppressing it. I started the discussion from god knows where, I don't even know how I reached this point, I'm just so pissed about everything. Also, stop taking Birth control as a method of contraception. They stop ovulation in a lot of cases, it's a very important process of the female body, stopping it is literally not healthy, GOSH. if your man refuses to wear condoms, throw the whole fucking man away, he doesn't care about you. there are many condoms made of good material that do not cause itching in the vagina, and lastly please educate yourselves. I'm not telling you to learn everything from google but rather telling you to study traditional medicine, I studied ayurveda and chinese medicine and have been able to solve every problem with it. You can believe me or choose not to, It's not like I can force somebody to do something, give it a try atleast. it will take longer to solve the problem, but that's because it actually "heals" instead of numbing the pain, and healing always takes time. Other than that..........what can I say.

my anger has subsided, reading this dsm pisses me off so much. almost all the disorders are most likely to be more common in women, I seriously wonder why..............Homosexuality was categorised as a mental health disorder once......lobotomy was considered to be normal......these fuckers also used to think that babies couldn't feel pain, so they used to perform surgeries without Anesthesia on them........this kind of thing never happened in ancient india........I refuse to believe anything that these idiots say

It's a "pseudoscience" ofc it is, anything that provides a solution and doesn't require a person to become a life long patient so you can extort money from them is a pseudoscience, dickheads.