#this was supposed to be a fanfiction by now however life got in the way big time

[mishervellous]

Gallavich Week 2023 Day Six (Shakespeare)

@gallavichthings

“And when they're complete, I swear to thee—we shall fly beyond this isle—the corners of the world our mere prologue. I'll seek to make thy happiness so great that e'en the name of liberty's forgot. What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?”

“Yes.”

inspired by this wonderful life is strange scene and with a special sorryistillhavetofinishwritingthis thank you my accomplice @creepkinginc 💙

[skull-fvcker]

Morality

❥ Yandere! Arcane Viktor x Gender Neutral! Reader

A/N: cross-posted from my ao3. Old fanfiction from 2021, written way before season two. Thought I might as well post it here—the final episode broke me, by the way.

Summary: Years worth of obsession and fantasy obfuscated his once comprehensible brain. But it felt as if this was a crucial transition. Viktor is convinced he is a good man, but his actions are speaking otherwise against his morality.

Warnings: 7204 words, MDNI, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, viktor is delusional, yandere viktor by the way, dubious consent(he coerces you), unhealthy and one-sided relationship, gender-neutral pronouns used for reader, no usage of y/n, gentle sex, set in season 1

In all honesty, Viktor did not know how it started or when it got out of hand. It started as a simple fascination and he had treated it as such. Nothing was wrong with that, he was a man of science after all. It was in his nature to feel drawn to things that he did not quite understand. Many years have passed since that day. Before his strange obsession came into his life. Honestly, now that he was alone to think about it, had it ever come into his life at all? Or, by some force of nature, he had forced it into his own life? The ever-changing flow of time halted the very moment Viktor had initially realised that he had more than a problem on his hands.

Viktor thought of himself as a man with morals. He was not the best person, yes, there are plenty of others that shone brighter than he did, but he found his value in his work and ethics. That being said, nothing about him was right. His work had been clogged for year's now; the chaotic office space merely setting as a permanent indication that he had slipped too far this time. Above all else, he had guaranteed himself that his work came foremost, give or take a few instances in which it did not. This case was different, however. A disturbing accomplishment that, when asked initially, he wrote off his findings as evidence, or even lack thereof. Whether or not he was believed, was foreign to even him.

Directly adjacent to his cluttered working place—being neat had long passed his troubled brain, hadn't it?— lie his crutch, sat in such a way that it may fall at any minute. Viktor paid it no mind, at least not at first, but looking over his notes and the observations that he had written down, an idea popped up within what was left of a comprehensive state of mind. Of course, how could he have been so oblivious to forget such a thing, it was written clear as day in these scattered notes. His nimble, cold fingers grasped at the end of his crutch and he tugged it over and dug it into the floor while it enabled him to stand.

Viktor's book laid sloppily in his hand, page open in clear view. "Yes," he breathed, "I suppose this will do." He closed the withered book and shoved it between his left arm and clothed side. Periodically, an opportunity was difficult to come by. He had to do the best with what he had been given, though an itch in his brain told him that: why settle for fine, when you can go beyond?

The aforementioned person that he mentioned, the obsession - the two had never even met before, Hell, Viktor was certain it never even knew of his existence. It was ostensibly a normal upper city citizen with no strange qualities, nothing special about its behaviours nor its personality. It was normal. But it made him feel bizarre inside. He could effortlessly correlate it to that of an over-easy egg slowly cooking within a skillet until the yoke bursts for seemingly no reason and tarnishes the taste of the egg entirely. Just like that, it was ruining him. Granted, neither of them seemed to be eggs, but he believed the metaphor to fit rather well. Humanity always seemed to be so fickle, so easily swayed and broken. Just like an egg.

No matter the weakened disposition he had, nor the lingering scent of death he had become accustomed to, nothing prepared Viktor for the way his certain obsession made him feel. He was intelligent enough to not let these be known, oh, how he would hate the way that Jayce would assume the worst of his sentiments. Would he? Jayce had changed rather strikingly since the first day the two had met. Nevertheless, Viktor never seemed to be the man for love, much less protection of those around him.

Moreover, he was sure that with such dehumanising language and behaviour, nobody would hear his side of the matter. After all, calling the object of your affection an "it," and "thing," definitely does not look good for your compassion. Still, it gave him a reason to humanise his behaviour—if his obsession is not seen as equal, then what's the issue, exactly? To be blunt, it served no purpose other than to make him feel better since not a soul knew of this but him.

Sure, it did not occur to him that he would have strayed this far, but sometimes you have to do what you can to keep someone safe. He was in no state to protect someone on his own, he knew this far too well, he could never protect anyone with this sickly, frail body of his. That is why kidnapping was an absolute must. Reminiscing of the past did no good but to open up older wounds that set themselves up for failure, but the first day they had formally met was an exhilarating experience.

When they had seen him, there was a quizzical expression plastered on their face, and they even confused him for a council member of all things—never attentive, he presumed—but upon realising who he was, Viktor found himself met with immediate scepticism. Viktor could not fault them, it was something he knew all too well, though, maybe he should have saved his anguish for another day. The way their warmer hand held onto his own when he reached out to shake it. Their hand was soft, softer than his at least, and much less calloused. Smaller. Yet, their fingers did not hold the appearance of his own; on the contrary, they looked healthy. Healthier than him.

Of course, with someone who seemed to not have any imperfection, how was Viktor not supposed to fall for them, much less become intrigued with their very existence at that point? Humans were so fickle, he knew very well with how his body had grown to become sicker, but they seemed so robust, so self-sufficient. It was just like any other person, nothing too special but it stood out to him and that was what mattered.

It hurt him, really it did, to see them gawk at him with betrayal, to seem so frightened of someone who wasn't even strong, to begin with, but love came with sacrifice and even if he couldn't help everyone, then he would try to help them the best that he could.

Viktor revolted and fought against his rationality, he really did, he tried his absolute best to make sense of both his actions and what he had done. Within the months, he had thoroughly convinced himself that it was for the greater good, for the safety of his obsession; to keep them isolated from others. It was not the healthiest choice, he would acknowledge at the time, but now he may argue that it was the only thing he could have done upon meeting them formally. He just could not let them go.

Months had passed since that day, but it was fun to reminisce sometimes. Besides, it was even better that, when he had the time, they were someone in which he could spoil with every day. Yes, Viktor took things slow and always was sure to leave them be, yet give them company, but watching them stare at him with a look that he could hardly even decipher anymore, left him breathless. And he didn't even know why.

That very thing forced him into the very dilemma that he is in now. Standing in front of a locked door with a flawlessly crafted key lying in his tremoring hand. It was from excitement, he knew it was. It was like this was his own secret sanctuary where he hid his most precious desire and treasure, his perfect obsession that wept behind locked doors. It was the same every day, no matter how long he would stare.

The door opened with a slight rasp, the only other noise being a stifled sob and the sound of scuffing against the floor, then the buoyancy of bedsprings. His stiff body staggered against the sturdy cane, his hunched over body barely allowing the light to pool in around the walls of the door frame. Every day seemed no closer to his objective. He didn't even know how he had done this. Years worth of obsession and fantasy obfuscated his once comprehensible brain. But it felt as if this was a crucial transition.

Viktor is convinced he is a good man, but his actions are speaking otherwise against his morality.

"Good morning, dear. Have you slept well?" The sounds of chains screamed in his ears when he spoke. All these years and his lover still has not gotten used to their living state. "Ehh... I have already assured you. Good behaviour is rewarded, please understand that this is an absolute must to keep you safe." They were terrified. Of him. Isolation was a punishment and he could never help but feel dreadful about them being punished for things out of their control.

"When can I go home?" was the concern they always pleaded with whenever they saw him. Viktor tried to not let it get under his skin, really he did, but the knowledge that they did not want to be with him weighed heavy on his mind. He loved them, they had to recognize. Their eyes were so passive; it reminded him of when he had first seen the mutation, Rio, when he was a young boy. Curiosity, distress; panic. They just did not understand this yet.

Perhaps all the days that he merely sat there and stared at them with a desolate expression thoroughly destroyed the way they would perceive him, or how he would blatantly ignore their tantrums and screaming, tapping his fingers along the edge of his crutch like a patient father waiting for their child to calm down. Of course, Viktor never mistreated them. The most he did was further isolate them, which explained the absolutely pitiful state that they were in right now.

Reluctance to accept the changing future will result in the fear of what's to come. He understands it's different from what they were used to. But one must adapt to their surroundings and become accustomed. Viktor has already sacrificed so much for them; when was it their turn to return the favour? The ever-changing future is something he will never know for certain.

Viktor sighed, watching them press their body against the nook of the room where their bed had been so delicately placed. The bedsheets had been sent into a state of disrepair, and certain pillows seemed more shapely than the rest. From clutching them too tightly, he inferred. It was adorable.

"This is your home," It was no wonder that they attempted to squeeze themselves farther against the wall when he staggered closer. "I don't have any food this time, I'm afraid," he stood right at the side of their mattress, directly in front of trembling form, his eyes fixated on the plate that sat adjacent to the bed, at least a few days old now. "Though, I'm glad that you, ehm, were able to finish your last meal. Good job." A sigh escaped him after the carefully placed praise fell from his lips and, upon staring hastily at them, he recalled the fear blending within their wide eyes. "However," he found himself fumbling over his words, "I know that you've been a little, eh... downcast, as of late so I have decided that I am going to offer you something that I'm sure you would love," he paused, almost reluctant to reach forward and stroke the hair behind their ear. Hesitant to touch them lovingly.

This situation was a troublesome one, of course, it would be, but he was not a fool in the matter. He read up on numerous articles simply so he can keep things safe for them — falling for one's captor, he had thought about it, yet the turmoil often sets in when he realises that they hadn't developed such a thing just yet. Had he not been too kind? Perhaps, it was the chains around their body? Particular disorders of the mind were so hard to force into existence; was that such a terrible thing to wish for? They looked as if they served more as a pet than anything else, honestly. But that's love, this is just his love. Viktor was well aware that a plethora of things regarding both he and his health weren't precisely right, particularly in concerns to other people. Honestly, staring at them in such a miserable state made him feel almost remorseful.

They must feel so trapped, not to mention secluded, after all, he was never able to spend as much time with them as he would have preferred. He wondered, did they feel imprisoned in their own body, too? Probably not in the way that he did, but it was a suspicion that lingered in his mind. He set his hand on the side of their face unexpectedly, and they jolted back. Granted, he was certain that his hand was freezing. But, Hell, it appeared as if they had almost whimpered at his touch. Still, he had never done anything to harm them, he's only keeping them safe. The images of the mutation Rio sitting in a tank of fluids that he knew all too well now, the thought of it being kept alive despite its pleas not to. Such lengths are just an experiment to preserve life. He understood, now. Not in the way that he should have, but he did.

Maybe that was how they felt. Like a trapped animal, frightened and alone. But they have him, they may not want him, but he is there.

Viktor's knees buckled as they pressed against the edge of the mattress, gently hoisting one after the other to get closer to the horrified individual hiding from his affection, which was already something which he never exhibited frequently.

"I want you to understand," he ran his thumb along their cheek with feathery soft touches, "I know you still don't understand why I'm doing this, or why you're here but rest assured that it's all out of genuine love." When you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission. "Alone. You're lonely and you're scared. I know how you feel. But you're special," their eyes met Viktor's for but an instant and it sent shock waves down his spine. Don't ask permission. "You're special to me, and that is what truly matters at this moment." They were about to cry. Correction, they were sobbing. And it was all his fault. Emotional turmoil mixed with the trauma enforced within them made this happen - because of Viktor.

And despite it all, Viktor could not help but feel proud of his accomplishments.

"Please," their name rolled off of his tongue like a loose screw in his brain, though more akin to a prayer. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, please." Their disobedience irritated him and sent his nostrils flaring, but he didn't allow that to show outwardly. They were already so skittish, why would he threaten them further? "Mm, I will reiterate it as many times as you desire: good behaviour is rewarded. If... If you're good—for me—then, and only then, will I allow you to go outside." His words set off a fire in their brain, he could tell how their breathing unexpectedly halted and they went completely tight-lipped. Was that all it took for them to settle down? An effortlessly broken promise?

Right, they were at their wit's end, weren't they? Their emotions override their rationality. The sunlight would be good for their health, after all. Quite frankly, the thought was unsettling, Viktor didn't want them out of his sight, but if it would make them satisfied then he could make configurations for such a thing. Though, he would have to be cautious to not allow anyone to see them. What if they tried to... escape, in a sense? It was dangerous, he would have to think about it thoroughly.

"Do you mean it?" They said, suddenly. Their head was raised aloft and their wide eyes stared directly at him. "If I'm good... I'll be able to go outside? It's—" A sharp inhale. "It's been months," they were optimistic. Why was it so unbearable to see them so miserable?

For all but a juncture, Viktor felt himself at a loss for words. There was no telling whether or not he would be able to keep that promise, but he could try. They just need to learn to embrace change and adapt, maybe they will forget about it in due time. "I mean it," he said without thought, "you have my word." Did they, truly? You should not make promises that you are incapable of keeping, but just this once, the way their expression lit up and how the tears fell from their eyes, made Viktor feel as if he had done something right this entire time. Without a single word, his hand slowly lowered from their warm cheek, his gangly fingers running alongside the edges of the collar that adorned their flawless neck.

In pursuit of great, we failed to do good.

How would Viktor feel if someone had done this to him? It was a rhetorical question; nobody cared for him enough to go to such drastic lengths to proclaim their love. Therefore, this couldn't have been an unfair thing for him to do. "We must adapt to change," he spoke softly as his fingers danced around their trembling jaw. "You must adapt to change." His voice dropped an octave, gaze falling back onto their face. He had adapted to this change flawlessly fine, it was them that had to figure out how to. They were ultimate perfection in his eyes—there was just one, little issue...

"What are you doing?" Their voice quivered. Viktor's hand slipped down to their collarbones, pinching against the soft fleshy prison.

"Ahm, eh, I am... feeling you, merely. Nothing more," their breath hitched at his actions. "Unless you want me to do more?" An unexpected whimper came from them, in which he did not know if it was good or not, but knowing them, it emanated from apprehension. "I love you, you know that. I would never force you to do something. Think of it as a friendly suggestion," Viktor's blunt fingernails found themselves becoming caught on the neckline of their shirt. "So, will you let me?" There was a pause between them. Most importantly, the air seemed to grow still. Tension so thick that you could slice it in half with a knife.

They shifted but didn't give Viktor a clear yes or no. In all honesty, they seemed to be dismissing him altogether. He could feel their body heat begin to amplify, a telltale indication of both their embarrassment and if he dares say desire. A relatively foolish notion, he was well aware, however, that did not mean anything in his mind, not in the current time. The future could come later, and his life may pass him by. But the future does not exist, does it? Not until you make it so. If he didn't take satisfaction in the opportunity that he had right now, then it may never come up again.

Nevertheless, he took the chance and leaned forward, inch by inch until his face had pressed into what was seen within the crook of their neck. Their skin was soft, warm; pulsating. "I am obsessed with you," both of his hands set themselves upon their shoulders, thumbs clutching against the blade of their clavicles. "I am, truly. My devotion, my love, my obsession for you—that will be the only thing that will never change no matter the year to come. You may push me away all that you desire, but I will come back to you. I love you." His chapped lips pressed in between their jawline and neck, a chaste kiss that he allowed to linger on their skin. They didn't even bother pushing him away. They had the strength to, yet abstained.

We failed to do good.

"Understand my efforts," his voice was barely above a whisper, "you must have seen them. Make sense of my love for you." His grip on their shoulders tightened, but he knew it would never be enough to harm them. It wasn't as if he wanted to injure them in the first place, either. However, it was short-lived, and Viktor's hands fell from their shoulders to their bound wrists, and straight down to their tremoring hands. "I have always wanted to do more with you—to be what most would consider a "couple" yet you keep pushing me away." During his rambling, Viktor heard them mumble something under their breath. "Could you repeat that?"

"I said I'm sorry," they whispered. For the first time, it seemed that they were apologising to him so sincerely, maybe with actual suspicions that something may transpire if they were to not apologise. It was startling, but a chance to hear their voice was satisfactory for Viktor. There was a lingering breath that he could feel tickle the back of his neck, coupled together with their heaving chest. They were scared.

We have to make it right.

Viktor felt his heart hammer against his rib cage, a knot forming in his throat bitterly. This clammy feeling in his chest was unneeded. "Well," he spoke with a sharp exhale, "do you know what would make me forgive you?" As if he hadn't already forgiven them, to begin with. Upon feeling them nod slowly, Viktor pulled away from them and hurried his hands from their own, to their neck. His touches were faint, but loving. Held a certain edge to them, hinted at with a distinct emotion. "I'm very sure you're aware of what I'm getting at," his breathing picked up, just as theirs did, and for a few instants, it seemed that theirs was in sync with his own. To his surprise, they shifted and nodded in agreement, but did not vocalise it.

Anxiously, Viktor proceeded to slowly creep his body forward, even closer to them than he was before. He felt his heart thumping against his rib cage, the wind being knocked from his lungs as he shakily exhaled. Viktor was not the type of man for sex, he never had the time to do it; but when it came to his little obsession, why not indulge? Their consent was dubious at best, but at this point, any hint of acceptance was promising enough for him. He struggled to rationalise his thinking but instead was only met with a cluttered mess within his brain. Viktor couldn't concentrate on anything other than them at this moment. It was just the two of them, and that was all that truly carried weight to him.

His kisses against their skin were light, virtually non-existent, but the genuine love that he harboured for them persisted despite their shuddering breathing; despite their apprehension. Viktor's lips pressed against their tender jawline until he finally met the edges of their lips. His hands were twitching, cupping the sides of their face with his thumbs caressing the skin underneath their eyes. This would be their first kiss together. Would they reciprocate it? He sure hopes that they would in some way, they don't seem to have any reasoning as to why they wouldn't. He pulled back momentarily to stare at them, only to notice that they weren't looking at him at all. That would be okay.

"You're mine," he breathed as he pressed his lips against their own once again. Viktor felt as if his chapped, thin lips were being engulfed by theirs—though, theirs were equally as chapped as he were. He made a mental note to up their water intake. The kiss did not quite feel the way that he visualized it to feel—he thought it would have felt more romantic in a sense. Moreover, he would have believed that they wouldn't be chained to the wall in such an intimate instant. But, good behaviour is rewarded. This was temporary, they knew that, as did he. Just as the kiss was about to end, he felt them lean into it and press their lips into his own. That, above everything else, made him feel like the blessedest man in all of Piltover. Of Zaun, anywhere.

"I love you more than anything," confessed Viktor as he pulled away from their lips. "I'm glad that you're mine." And he meant it.

Their breath hitched just as it constantly did when he touched them. Maybe it was the fact that his hands were gradually examining their body, tilting across every crevice, from where their midsection concave whenever they'd instinctively suck it in out of humiliation, to the quiver of the skin around their navel when his fingers ran along the sensitive region. Viktor's hands were underneath their shirt, his wiry fingers eagerly squeezing the skin. They squeaked at first, his hands were frigid after all but eventually unwound though not peeking at him. Viktor wished that they would look at him like a person rather than an oddity.

The hem of their trousers huddled against their hips, hiding away the most intimate part of their body that only Viktor was allowed to see. For a moment, he looked into their eyes for the right to go ahead, but upon being avoided, Viktor merely yanked them down with enthusiasm pulsing through his veins. His thumbs pressed between their navel and hipbones, in an almost comforting gesture. But it wasn't as if they cared in the long run, however, he could hear their hitching breath. Through dirty-minded thoughts, Viktor's right hand loomed above their sex while his other clasped against their hipbone for support. He was actually doing this—something that he had just as much as dreamed of for years.

"Please," their whiny voice startled his thoughts. "Just... be gentle with me," they didn't seem to be in the mood to fight him at all. That's good. Viktor was sure he had neither the strength nor the energy to deal with it.

His thumb pressed against the sensitive nub below, threatening a gasp from them. "I'll never hurt you," he rubbed their hip in synchronisation with his sensual touches against their sex. "I promise, I will do what I can to make you feel pleasured." His breathing picked up as arousal trickled down his spine like that of the emotions that he loathed. "I want... to see the inside of you. All of you," he spoke aloud, a hint of longing in his tone which he had shoved back this entire time. He wanted them to comprehend his love to its full potential.

Viktor's face pressed against the crook of their neck once again, shifting his hips as he closed his eyes. They were making noises, now, their chained wrists clicking against the harsh metals as they lifted their hands to dig into his back. Secretly, he had hoped that they would call his name. He knew that they knew it. They've spoken it countless times before. Granted, it was always in a fit of rage or hysteria which followed, "I hate you," and, "You ruined my life." But they knew his name at the very least.

Moreover, they were unravelling at the seams. They liked this just as much as Viktor did. They loved him, they had to. Lust and love were on a thin line, so closely drawn together yet had such distinct differences. Could the same be said about obsession? Maybe so, but that did not mean much by this point.

"I love you," he breathed into their neck, his warm breath no doubt sending shivers down his spine or so he hoped. "You feel so soft, so pretty..." His fingers toyed with their sex, jerking in sporadic movements which caused their hips to buck against him, further spurring him on. "Do you like it when I touch you like this? Like I—" his breath hitched when their hands clenched the fabric of his vest, "Like I own you?" For once, they actually agreed with him.

"Y-yes," they let out a pitiful, rueful whine more akin to someone who was used to this sort of thing. But that was inane. They belonged to him. "It feels—It feels really good, I..." Their hips were rolling now, eagerly trying to accept his love rather than pushing it away like they always had been. They were accepting change. They were adapting. "Jus—just like that, please, Viktor—"

And at that moment, time seemed to halt.

They said his name, not out of pure spite or anger, not from him doing something they did not like, but in pleasure. The pleasure that he was inflicting on them. "You're doing such a good job, So good for me," it came out as more of a wheeze than praise, though there was a hint of worship hidden within it. "Are you going to come soon? I want you to come undone because of me. I love you," his lips returned their place at their neck, his crooked teeth nibbling onto their soft skin, further forcing out a reaction from them. Just from their responses and noises alone, Viktor felt as if he was going to come any second now instead, and he hadn't even touched himself. All he could feel was his dick beginning to strain against his dress pants.

It was getting so hot and stuffy, surely he should take off his vest and dress shirt soon. The things that they did to him were things that he didn't even expect. The love he harboured, the desire he held—they were his weak spot. This precious creature. Viktor felt his breathing pick up as he pulled his teeth away from their neck, their delicate skin caught between his incisors.

Once more, slowly, his fingers gently danced around their sex, forcing himself to concentrate and try to block out the absolutely lovely noises that they were emitting. The noises, be as they may, were provided to him involuntarily, he attempting to reject the wail of pleasure that came from them. The squelchy sound of their fluid pooling around his fingers met his ears, giving a sick taste of satisfaction. His left hand clenched their skin a little too tightly for even his standards, the wiry fingers of his right hand working against him, deliberately circulating apart and snapping concurrently, a shudder running down his spine at the howl they made along with the response their body offered. Devoiding much of a thought, Viktor pulled his left hand away from their hipbone, dragging the appendage straight to the front of his dress pants, fumbling with both the zipper and hem in an attempt to pull it away from his groin.

"Oh," he heaved as he pulled away, ignoring the whimper that came from his lover in front of him. They wanted this. They needed this. Needed him. "Would you mind if I tried..." The words died in his mouth as soon as they came out, his left hand hovering above his concealed groin. Surely, they would say yes? They seemed a bit dazed, though perhaps it was his fault for not allowing them the relief that they were so close to acquiring. "I want to... feel you. I may not last very long," he fished his dick out of his boxers, feeling his face heat up to the point where he was sure it was red. "Do you want to?"

They made eye contact with him this time. The humanity, the want, the greed and the fear shone in their eyes brightly, but nothing could cover the telltale signs of love and lust. Viktor already knew the answer, they didn't even have to answer him, he already knew what it was going to be by their reaction alone. This was the key to their heart.

Now, at first, Viktor would not lie when he said that it made him feel a bit shy, or nervous—the thought of them seeing such an intimate part of his body, one of which he knows can be heavily judged based on size, was nervewracking to him. But the lack of disgust in their eyes—or maybe it was hidden between a thick cloud of lust—made him believe otherwise. They liked what they saw, and hopefully, nothing would change the way that they saw him. Their approval is what he strives for. However, that does not exactly matter with how far things have gotten. How many times has he repeated that phrase in his head?

The silence was deafening, but it was enough for Viktor to shuffle forward and shift his weight onto his somewhat good leg, swallowing the rising lump in his throat as he used his free hand to pull down their trousers. After this, he would be sure to give things a thorough wash. "Can you come closer?" He asked as he pulled his hand away. Please come closer.

He hadn't expected them to listen to him, nor to actually push themselves off the wall just to get closer to him, but, at the same time, he was not complaining. "Good job," he praised, his hands returning to place on their hips. Their skin felt so warm, but Viktor could still feel the reluctance radiating off of their perfect form. Now, this was just a question of whether or not he should go through with It. If he should finish claiming them.

The rattling chains served as a constant reminder for them to not fall out of line, and Viktor was sure that they did not want to do such a thing, especially not so close to salvation at this point. Steadily, Viktor felt their thighs wrap around his hips, and though the pressure and their weight being shifted onto him were agonising, he tried to force his way through it. The way that he could feel the tip of his dick press against them—that was like pure ecstasy. He never thought the day would come when they would grind into his lap so sensually, and act as if they had never tormented him for years to come.

"God," there was a slight plea laced within his velvet tone, "I need to be inside of you. Please," as much as Viktor loved them, he could never trust them to be the one providing. Not with how their behaviour had exhibited... less than desirable traits. "Will you allow me? We could finally become one in a sense. I just want to feel your insides around me, I want to feel your body heat against me." Whether or not they found pleasure in Viktor's begging, they offered him a response anyway:

"Shut up," was what they said. "Go ahead."

And with that, Viktor found himself slowly pushing their body down into the mattress, further ruining the bedspread and sheets that weren't even properly fixed in the first place. They still seemed reluctant, as their tone even harboured a certain edge to it, but hell, Viktor could not fault them. He feels nervous, too, of course, he does. Pulling down their trousers fully to their calves, he felt a knot grow within his throat. The thought of someone else doing this to them caused bile and jealousy to rise within his empty stomach, curling and screaming in the back of his mind, yet he pushed it aside in favour of much kinder thoughts.

A part of him wished to be able to twist and manipulate this circumstance, but he knew he didn't want to do such a thing - Viktor wanted nothing more than for them to just become wholly his and only his until death would take hold of them both. And even then, that would not split them apart nor dwindle his love for them. "I'm going to..." There was a brief pause, embarrassment etched across his face, "Er, make love to you," he spoke aloud, though it was more as if he was convincing himself that he was going to, rather than informing them.

There was little to no resistance when Viktor pressed himself inside, but it was such a foreign feeling that he could not help but whimper at the sensation. They were warm on the inside, and not the mention that their body would occasionally clench around his dick. His golden eyes gaped at their face, eyeing the expressions that they would make, all the way until the hilt of his dick finally pressed against their pelvic area. This was embarrassing.

Shamelessly, Viktor pulled back his hips, only to snap them forward with a moan. He tried his best to keep quiet, however, with the way that they started breathing heavily with their knees pressed up against the sides of his thighs, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. They were perfect, they felt perfect - on the inside, the outside, no matter. He hunched his body over their own, using the strength in his arms—what was left of it, anyway—to keep himself up. Viktor had no clue how long he would last, nor how his body would allow him to continue. But with how it felt, he hoped it would be long enough.

"You—you're... You're big," they suddenly confessed, a slight whimper escaping with the moan that left them. Fuck, they sounded so adorable like that. "Don't... Stop, please—"

A shiver ran down Viktor's spine at the blatant praise that fell from their lips shamelessly, it seemed so heinous, almost as if they were trying to get him going. "Ah..." Keep talking. "You, ah—you think so?" He panted as his hips snapped forward once, then twice. Was he drooling? Shit, he was drooling. "You feel so good on the in—the inside. So warm, so inviting. I would never... want to stop," a particularly loud moan escaped him, which seemed to be a hybrid of both a moan and wheeze. His lover didn't seem to notice nor care, however.

Why would they ever want to leave when they have such luxury in their life? Here they were, underneath Viktor with their eyes clenched tightly, hands balled up in fists as strings of moans escaped their bitten lips. They looked gorgeous like that. It even made Viktor feel powerful to know that he was able to make them feel such a way. Nearly impossible, he thought, if they weren't tied up and reluctant to accept him, they might have tried something devious and that would have ruined every single thing that Viktor had planned. Still, they're accepting his love.

His rhythm wasn't exactly straight nor following any set beat. Viktor felt as if his movements were sloppy and skewed, choppy thrusts and shuddering muscles that he was surprised had lasted this long. He could feel himself growing close, but he couldn't allow himself to unless they had, first. They mattered more than anything else.

"D... Darling," he nearly cried out, "I love you so much—" One of their hands threw itself behind Viktor's head, tangling their fingers within his messy locks of dark hair, gently tugging him forward. A shock ran down his spine at the gesture.

"I know," they breathed, "I know you do." Were they feeding into his delusion and leaving him to feel as if they felt the same, or did they genuinely love him at this moment? The way their eyes slowly peeked open was complete bliss for him, the irises that stared directly into his own with blown-out pupils—love.

He felt his sloppy movements speeding up, all while his body became sore from the extended movements, and all while this happened he felt the drool collect on the edge of his lips, dripping down his chin to their shirt, wetting the wrinkled fabrics. It didn't matter how ruined it would get, Viktor made a mental note to give them an even better shirt. Nevertheless, a knot coiled itself within his gut, curling around his navel and shooting a cramp up his spine in an almost pleasurable manner.

His bottom lip caught itself in between his incisors, muffling a forthcoming moan. "Are you—" a choked moan. "Are you clos—close? Please—" There was borderline whimpering in tone and he could not help but feel embarrassed for it, but the trembling person below made him feel a little better about his childish worries. They nodded without speaking, staring at him through thick eyelashes. They were gorgeous.

Viktor smiled, and it met his eyes. "So am I."

It was blissful, for him, at least—everything seemed perfect and in order as Viktor's right hand clasped around the side of their waist, squeezing the soft, malleable flesh: pliant. His breathing picked up, as did theirs, but he was determined to stretch this out for as long as he allowed himself to. As he closed his eyes tightly, Viktor felt his thumb dig into the dip between their stomach and hip bone, causing a red indentation on the soft skin. Through his pleasure, he could hear the loud sound of their moans below, as well as the sound of skin slapping against the skin; the squelch of genetic fluids mixed. Viktor's eyebrows furrowed together at the sound, his head falling against their chest, forehead pressed directly above their heart. Their clavicle, he presumed. They felt so good, he didn't want to stop, but he was so close.

"Viktor—" they cried out, suddenly, "I'm g—going—" there was a loud, rueful cry, followed by a high-pitched whimper. He could feel them clench around his dick, and then they had come. This sent him over the edge. Viktor lifted his head weakly and pressed his lips against their own, his saliva smearing all over their mouth and cheeks. He moaned into their mouth, pressing his hips forward one more time as his hand clenched their skin, surely hard enough to leave a bruise. He emptied inside of them, the muscles in his thighs twitching and convulsing, his dick soon going limp thereafter.

For a moment, Viktor caught his breath, chest heaving with laboured breaths. Tears pricked his vision when he opened his eyes, and the slobber dripped from his lips. His legs felt as if they were stuck in mud, but how did they feel? As he lifted himself, Viktor stared down at the person below him, completely covered in the afterglow. I came inside, that was an accident, he thought, but they looked so cute like that.

Much like before, Viktor felt a knot form in the middle of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing with each calculated swallow and breath.

Viktor felt breathless, but he felt as if that was to be expected. He stared down below at the barely visible person he had claimed just a few moments prior; his vision betraying him. He rests his forehead against theirs, a promise of devotion. "What can I do to make you love me?"

"Let me go," they whispered in a soft croon.

"You know I cannot afford to do that. You're mine."

[vegan-peppermint]

Your Boyfriend's Bed

Pairing: Hoodie x Masky'sGF!Reader

Fandom: Marble Hornets

Genre: Smut MDNI

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cheating, creampie, rough sx, P in V

Summary: Your boyfriend is a B, but his best friend's there to take your side.

Author's Note: After a three-year hiatus, I finally found the inspiration to write again—thanks to this incredible fanfiction. It sparked something in me. I can’t recommend it enough, so please show the creator some love. Their work is the reason I’m writing again after all this time. This fic is inspired by their masterpiece, so I highly encourage you to check it out first!

________________________________

More often than not, you were a collateral victim in your boyfriend and his friend’s fights. Tim and Brian were too close for your liking, they had a great co-dependency going on way before you came in the picture. If Brain was in a bad mood, so was Tim. If you got in a fight with Tim, Brian was giving you the silent treatment as well as taking sides without hesitation.

It was more than you bargained for, not realising getting Tim as a boyfriend meant taking responsibility for his grown-ass best friend as well. But you managed. With each month that passed in your relationship it was getting easier for you, to the point it was almost natural to consider them both in every action you took. 

Weirdly enough, you so much preferred for them to be mad at you instead of at each other. Whenever their balance wavered they started acting batshit crazy. Tim confessed some details about their ‘alternative’ life after- what, a year in you relationship? 

You didn’t fully grasp what he meant by their “alter egos” or their nighttime escapades, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to. You had your suspicions, of course. You weren’t blind. But as long as they didn’t outright spell it out for you, you could continue living in blissful ignorance. It was easier that way, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it.

But today—today was different. Today, things had escalated to an entirely new level.

Tim was screaming at Brian, who was cloaked in that damned creepy hood that made him look so unsettling. Tim's anger seemed to grow by the second, and when “Hoodie” (as you suppose you should call him now) refused to react, it only fueled Tim’s rage.

You tried to calm him down, talk to him or something- anything.

A strained, guttural laugh escaped Tim, trembling with anger. He started explining to you how you do not even begin to understand what has happened, how you should just shut up and not get involved- his voice full with disdain, every sentence designed to belittle and assert his supposed superiority. 

Now you are not the one to get angry easily, but this time- this time something in you snapped. You were done being talked down to, done being made feel small or pathetic for just wanting some peace.

“No wonder he would not bother to have your back when you act like such a prick.”

“Oh, just shut up you bit-,” his words faltered as he caught himself mid-sentence, swallowing the insult faster than a politician trying to cover his tracks.

You cannot recreate what was spoken after that word for word, just that all hell broke loose. It was no longer a fight between Tim and Brian- no, it wasn’t just them anymore. It was you and Hoodie against Tim. You were screaming and throwing your every angry complaint you had been holding in for far too long. And Hoodie- Hoodie of all people- was backing your every word, every statement. However, Hoodie’s remark is what really sealed and shipped Tim’s whole spirit.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so frustrated with her boyfriend in my life, Masky. Can only imagine you’re lacking in some aspects.”

The words hit harder than anything you had said. They were cold, calculated, and aimed straight at the core of Tim’s pride. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a moment, Tim stood there, trembling with the weight of the accusation. His face twisted in disbelief, but the damage had already been done.

What followed between the two of them was pure madness. Shouting, shoving, items flying off shelves—everything seemed to spin out of control. Pushing, pulling, voices rising higher and higher, until the tension reached a breaking point. Tim’s eyes flickered with something darker, something unstable, before he turned to grab his mask and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls.

Well, this has happened this morning. You realise you could’ve done things differently, not taking sides or waiting for their fight to end before starting your own. That was your mistake. But leaving you hurt and angry with only Hoodie to comfort you was his.

________________________________

You were on all fours on your boyfriends bed, face buried in his pillows. Hoodie’s gloved hand pushed down on your back arching it more- your ass rising higher. 

Your clothes were littering the floor from the doorway to the edge of the bed, the cold air tickling your bare skin. Your eyes landed on the wardrobe’s mirror showing your helpless reflection with Hoodie’s tall frame behind you. He was completely dressed from his boots to the black mask that covered his face- he was glacial. 

His left hand- formerly on your back-  grabbed your hip harshly. He dragged the other painfully slow across your side- from ass, to waist and finally around your breast. You whimpered at the harsh feeling of his gloves palming your tits. 

“So sensitive…” he sighed. The nub was hardening against his touch making it easier for him to pinch or gently twist your nipple. 

You inhaled sharply trying to steady yourself but being met with Tim’s smell wasn’t helping. “H-Hodie...” you whined. 

His hands left your body and you heard his pants zipper opening. You tried to push yourself on your forearms, an instinct to turn around and see what you were dealing with, but before you could make a move a firm grip grabbed at the back of your neck. The sharp tug sent shivers down your spine as Hoodie yanked your head back. With a swift flick of his wrist, he let go of your nape only to have his fingers dart into your hair. His grip was certain and precise. “You’re way to eager to get on another man’s cock.” Your face was shoved once again back into the mattress. 

He was watching you excitedly as he brushed his tip across your folds- a groan escaping his lips when he felt how wet you already were. There was something primal about knowing you belonged to someone else yet he got to claim you as his right now. 

“Be quiet now,” he instructed sliding his cock inside you. You tried your best, you swore you did but he was so- big. Your eyes rolled upwards and your fingers gripped tightly at the sheets as you tried your best not to scream. His cock pressed deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you in ways you did not even imagine possible. “You moan like a whore,” he growled with a final push. You felt your face blushing in shame- he talked to you in ways you would've never allowed your boyfriend, but on his lips those words felt so natural; almost like praises.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, the sound gentle but insistent. You were already panting and crying just by the size of him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him being balls deep inside your aching cunt but your whines wouldn’t stop. He leaned over you, the rough material of his clothes scratching your soft skin. His hand reached to the side of your face, you thought he wanted to wipe away the tears that were sliding down your cheeks. He chuckled, his hand covering your mouth instead. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, sweetheart.” 

________________________________

“Fuck, fuck- fuck! Feels so- Agh!~” 

You were screaming so fucking loudly. Your head was bumping to the ruthless rhythm of Hoodie’s thrusts. His fingers left red marks all over your ass, your hips- he was tugging at your body merciless, squeezing and scratching every inch of skin he could find. 

With trembling hands you tried your best to hold onto the bed frame as Hoodie was rutting into you from behind. His balls were hitting your swollen clit so hard- again and again and- “Am so close- so close, so close!”  Jaw was hanging open, you were gasping for air. 

“Fucking whore,” Hoodie sighed grabbing your neck with one hand, the other searching for your open mouth. “Bet he never fucked you this good, eh?” He gave a sinister chuckle as he shoved his fingers down your throat. You followed his cruel pull falling back on his torso. He was squeezing at the sides of you neck reminding you how little and vulnerable you are right now, “You only breath right now- scream and cry- you only feel this good because I allow you to.”

You whine taking him even deeper, his cock slaming your walls faster. His fingers explored your mouth pressing down your tongue, his grip thightend. 

“I could snap your neck right now, you know?”

You cry out loud in desperation, surrenedring control to him completely. Your eyes shut in anticipation, every muscle in you tightens-

“Say who you really belong to, who fucks you like a bitch in heat,” he snarls. “Say my name.”

And you do. Over and over again you do as your gummy walls squeeze around his length unbearably thight, waves of pleasure wash all over you. Hoodie’s hands allow you to gasp for air just for a second as they move under your arms grabbing you by the shoulders. His sudden body weight pushed you on your belly, fucking you deeper into the matress. His thrusts grow sloppy and desparate with no regard towards you- he was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“I’ll pump you so full of cum, MY cum-” Muffled sounds rose from deep in his chest, you were able to hear his clenched teeth through the sharp breaths he took. “Breed you so good you’ll be ruined- Fuck-” he whimpered. “Ruined for Tim,” his thrusts are brutal and harsh and- so goddamn overwhelming. 

His cum shots in hot strings, his member twitching inside your ruined cunt. His hands pull you closer and hips push further trying to get as deep as possible- deeper than Tim at least. 

You felt bad for comparing but the way he feels on top of you, in you- he fucked you in ways your boyfriend never could. When you tried to shift he grabbed a fistful of your hair forcing your head back. With lazy motions he started fucking his cum deeper.

“I didn’t tell you you could fucking move yet.”

//

This is my first fic since, what- 2021? Wow. Crazy.

I'll keep on writing my usual content as well, but creepypastas and gore-y stuff has always been something I wanted to write but never felt confident enough before. Anyways, feel free to request or send me any message, I came back from my hiatus! Never thought I'd say that lol.

[shuenkio]

Mid Night w'you | Ksn. 🌜

Paring: Innocent!Sunoo X Male!reader | Genre: Sg Smut.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

Synopsis: Sunoo was waking up in the middle of the night feeling overwhelmed by the sudden heat, so he asked you for a lil help.

Cw: mentioned of cum, masturbate, overstimulated, curse Mdni.

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: I'm back with Sun's work after a while, I mean I'm kinda sucky at writing this genre a bit suar don't be mad at it :') / also tell me which member you wanna see next.

You know that, your boyfriend, Sunoo was a bright person, sweet as sugar, a gentleman and never had any bad background before, he was just perfect. However, in the life of a human, as a man he was pretty innocent even if he was already an adult, you know what we trying to say.

Sometimes he was a pain and oblivious that, doing it with alone times is nothing to be ashamed of, your body do need relaxation too such as a good release. You did bring up this topic a few times too that, nothing to be embarrassed off, while he said he was fine, shrugged it off didn't care of it that much. So you just go along with the flow, not everyone is enjoying themselves doing alone time.

However, during the middle night as you and him, have gone to sleep. Sunoo was seen waking up, feeling uneasy, flashing and heat surrounded all over his body in every part especially 'that'. Why did his dick is so hard like a rock right now, damn it. To say that, he didn't know how to make it dead down and back to normal. Usually Sunoo would just pee it out when his bladder said so, but this was different. He feel nothing to pee, his balls are tight together, the base of his dick twitching and throbbing hard to point it actually painfully hurt.

He didn't want to wake you up from your sleep just for this personal issues to be solve, it kinda make him even more ashamed and embarrassed. Yet he got no choice, as Sunoo pull over to see once again under his pant, it wet? Why did his tip leaking wet and what are all these, he don't understand. Yeah they said everybody had a wet dream when they hit puberty, for Sunoo, he don't really care about it that much, at this point, he don't even know what c u m is. Innocent, really innocent.

He left with no choice, the more he try to resist, the more his dick hurting him more and more, that feeling when it just hitting, and needed to get it done asap. Shaking you gently, as you slowly open your eyes to see what's wrong, He finally explain.

Sunoo expected that you'd be hate him for waking you up this late, just for his dick never dead down or to find solution for him? Instead, you yawn. You know someday, man will always be man, and so are you and this was a countless time that you have to deal with it, and today it turn out to be your innocent boyfriend, this is going to take a while.

"M/n— i-im sorry, but how am i suppose to make it stop hard" He asked. His face are all redden like a fine wine, clenching tight on the bed sheet because he was shy, to deal with this with you helping. On the other hand, you didn't say anything as you remove the blanket away from the views and asked him.

"Sun, remove your pant. And underwear you need it" you state, finally half awake as you command him to do as you told. Shamelessly, he did remove everything and was left with bare butt and his dick, able to breathing for once. His expression is readable, he could actually fainted from all of these moments alone.

"N-now what should we do next?" Sunoo asked, he was still leaking with pre cum and it soaked his shaft already, well this was his first time for a while, gonna be a bit sensitive.

"So... It kinda late, we can't do something that need much energy so, can you uh jerk it off?" Explain what he should do, his face began to grow even redder, he was supposed to what? Fap his own dick? Naur way, he don't even know how to do it.

"I need to what? B.. but i don't know how!" Claiming he can't do it, explain the big picture that he can't do it for himself, which in the end you did have to help him, everything.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you Sun, but let me tell you first, it gonna be sensitive yeah?" Informing your boyfriend, he know that it would be so he agree even if he know he's gonna squirm under your touch, not to mention, everybody first time, its a hella crazy experience.

You crawl closer beside him, as you slowly wrapped your palm and finger around his dick. Just by doing that, he's already gone twitching non stop, the sensation are slowly making him swallow hard already.

But to stop it, he must need to do it, nothing to be afraid of.

You looking at him for consent that you'll be moving, when he catch your eyes he gently nod, as his brows strain together, feeling the heavy heat absorbing him once again.

As you moving your hand up and down in a slow pace, Sunoo was shaking. His thighs is so sensitive to your touch, with the wave of first stage pleasure wash over him. But why does he feel good? What's this feeling. Continue to jerk him off by the increase speed in every step, he can't help but to cover his mouth by the pleasure. The sound that he make only was whimpering, only to make him even more turn on.

Little by little, the slow pace turn into a fast one. The foreskin on his tip moving up and down nonstop with the help of your hand. The balls are swinging by the rhymes of your move that make Sunoo rolling his eyes over, almost can't hold himself back down. The more you go, the more his breath start to hitch, along with the high pitch sound he make, groaning, feeling like he was about to seen heaven in any moment.

"S-SHIT m/n i want to pee, i n-need to pee right now! Nvgahh ah"

"Piss it out Sun, don't hold back it not a pee~"

In another few more strokes, a wave of ecstasy hit him, as Sunoo feel like his body is begging for to be release the white liquid that he had seen back in those day. He was trembling and indeed squirming just like he predicted, his tips is twitching as it giving signal once last time before a big load of cum shooting out on the bed, a very heavy one. Sunoo's body couldn't endure such pleasure before, the sensation running wild in his vein, and that's when he pass out, on the spot. He's probably seen heaven before he pass out right now.

You chuckle at your boyfriend who is a sensitive guy, before lay back down next to him, leave the dirty sheet for a while.

"How does it feel ma luv?" You asked, seeking for the attention and how does he feel like to be able to masturbate.

Yet Sunoo was still catching his breath, he can't bare himself to touch his sensitive spot, why does it feel so pleasurable that he can't even endure it yet he feel so good?

He must try... For another time in a while he thought, again soon.

"It feel so... Good just like you said, M/n...it actually overwhelmed with- it sensitive good"

"I know you would, everybody did, you don't have to be shy, unless it for everybody and not me ok? Now go to rest, you look like you're about to dead, so sensitive so cute hehe"

"Thanks you, M/n"

Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

Crd to all the owners of pics and dividers.

Ps; I didn't use the grammar checker so a lot of words might be incorrect.

[badkitty3000]

Weak

Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Weak:

I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.

I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.

I have failed miserably.

She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.

How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.

I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.

I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.

And, fuck, I am weak.

That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.

I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.

She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.

Weak.

Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.

All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.

Then morning comes and the spell is broken.

Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.

I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.

It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.

So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.

I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.

A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.

She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.

Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.

With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?

It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.

I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.

Fuck. I hate this guy.

In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.

If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.

My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.

Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.

I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.

Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.

That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.

And, buddy…I got bad news for you.

The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.

When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.

As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.

I take out my phone and type out a quick text.

Enjoying yourself?

I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.

Immensely, thank you

Not able to resist, I counter with:

Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert

She holds in a smile as she responds back.

Too bad you’re not going to find out

Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now

I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.

And why would I be thinking that?

Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want

I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.

Fuck you

She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.

As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.

Fuck, I’m an asshole.

I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.

I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.

She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.

“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.

 “Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.

“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.

I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”

There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.

“No,” she whispers.

As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.

Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.

I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”

As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.

My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.

“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.

I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.

I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.

“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.

“No!” she cries out.

“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”

Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.

“No,” she breathes out. “No.”

“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.

I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”

“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”

“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.

She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.

I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.

Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.

It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.

She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.

Fuck.

I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.

When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.

“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.

She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.

“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.

I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.

“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”

I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.

“You are, though. I mean it.”

She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.

We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.

We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.

There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.

I want to be with you.

I want to be yours.

I want you to be mine and mine alone.

I want to stay.

But I am weak, and so I don’t.

She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.

When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.

The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.

There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.

As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.

I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.

I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.

Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.

My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.

Everyone has a weakness.   

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader) Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 1: A Glimpse in the Shadows

__________________

Silence. Toby walked through the woods leaves crunching under his feet. He was looking at the floor, looking at the little bugs scuttle through the leaves. Tobias Roger’s was a quiet man. At least today he was. He paused watching a bug crawl under a leaf. It had been a couple weeks since he arrived in the town of Ravenwood in Maine.

Masky and Hoodie were not to come to this mission. So it was just Tobias by himself today…and everyday for the year he supposed. This mission should take some time. A whole year old solitude? Slender should know better then to leave the unstable Proxy alone. He didn’t wanna seem like pussy though. He took it. The job that is.

Though for the past couple weeks he’s been plagued by this dream. Sometimes it was a nice dream, other times he woke up crying. The dream is stupid. Too stupid to even write in his journal. It’s about a princess who sits and talks with him. Sometimes he pushes her on a swing, sometimes he eats her cooking for a picnic, it’s always in the woods though. He’s heard tales of the fae and such, maybe that’s what she is? It just feels so real. He just sits there and talks, even about problems he has in his waking life and she always manages to make him feel better. He wonders if maybe he’s developing a new disorder and she’s a figment that will manifest herself eventually.

Toby’s face snaps to the side when he hears a noise, much like singing. Singing? In the woods? What is this? A Disney movie? Toby shuffles to the tree line. Toby’s face scrunches up when he sees her, the girl practically skipping through the path in the woods, ignoring how it pretty much ending a couple yards back. She had to know that right. She was wearing and dress, once he recognized but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Having nothing better to do, Toby took a seat and watched her pass, fingers pulling up the grass as he fiddled with it.

Her dress flowed around her perfectly. Her black shoes kicking up dirt. She had to be around the same age as him, but the way she was acting was a bit childish to say the least. Toby thought about running from the brush and burying a hatchet in his skull, hearing her scream, and look up at him in her final moments, the dark red ruining her dress forever. ‘Pretty girl.’ He thought giving a grin. ‘Wonder how long it takes for anyone to notice she’s missing. Will anyone come looking for her? Prince Charming perhaps?’ If this was a fairytale, he wondered what role that would make him. Certainly not the hero.

Tobias wasn’t the hero in anyone’s story. Not even his own. Especially not hers. However Tobias didn’t kill for no reason. He’s seen the stories online. The fanfiction they write, but he also sees what some of the public thinks of him. He wasn’t any hero. Though sometimes he liked to google his own name he found interesting things. From old articles to art, to fanfiction of him rescuing forgotten and abused like him. Bring them with him. Toby wondered if he would have felt that way if he wasn’t involved in the debacle. Would he wish the slenderman take him too? Would he leave his window open and still draw the proxy symbol on his wrists in hopes he would be rescued?

Must be horrible to realize that the faceless man wouldn’t ever show up. He was picky. The girl was looking at something on a tree now, some sort of bird. She was delighted when it came closer. “Bitch has never se-seen a bird b-before” No but seriously what was her deal? She’s in the woods…alone…in a dress…playing with birds. How does she know someone like him won’t come up and…lift that pretty dress? Toby thought about shoving her up against the tree, teasing her a bit. He shook the thought away. Gross. You shouldn’t think that way about random girls in the woods. Wow that’s a sentence. Random girl in the woods…he looked her over again. He really could kill her here.

Toby got up, gripping his hatchet. She was so unsuspecting. He was literally feet from her. Him! A killer! A proxy! She wasn’t even sensing his presence. It was like watching a suspecting deer through a sniper scope.

Suddenly Toby threw the hatchet, and it catch the girl in the throat, her eyes widened, blood pouring from her neck as the bird flew from her finger, and she collapsed to the ground. Jerking as her eyes wildly searched the sky. As if asking why this had happened? Why her? Who would come to look for her rotting corpse?

Toby blinked, coming back to reality, the girl was throwing bird feed on the ground so they would gather around her. It was a boring scene really. Except for her. How can someone be so dumb? In the woods all alone…feeding the birds…it was kinda…it was kinda cute. Toby stopped picking the grass and watched. How sweet. He wanted to go up and say something. Something mean for some reason.

‘Those birds don’t even like you. They just like that you’re giving them food’ He wanted to say. Yeah. What did she think she was special? That she was some sort of princess of the forest? Who the fuck did she think she was? Waltzing in her all happy, feeding he birds. After this she’s probably gonna go home and eat a hot dinner…with family that probably actually likes her and doesn’t kill people for a living. Probably go and do whatever she wants tomorrow too because she doesn’t have a faceless man pulling her along like a puppet.

If only those kids who left their windows open and drew things on their hands knew what it was like: The life of a proxy. Sure he saved Toby but if Toby could just do it again he wouldn’t go with him. Toby would just burn and die. End of story. The girl seemed to finish. She stood. She left.

Only cause Toby let her.

‘Yeah.’ He told himself. ‘Only cause I let her!’ He started picking at his nails, feeling a little frustrated. Ignored even. How could she not know he was right here? Whatever. He started to bite his nails, and knew he went too far when he tasted blood. Oops. He wiped it on his dirty jeans.

…

Toby quickly made his way through the trees silently, wondering if he could catch up with her, and he did! She had stopped to feed a bunny. Who weirdly enough didn’t seem that scared of her. The bunny nuzzled her hand and she laughed. Her laughter, soft and sweet like birdsong, drifted through the air, making his heart pound in a way that felt almost… painful. Toby didn’t deserve to hear it, but he stayed hidden among the trees, selfishly drinking it in.

He knew he recognized the sound from somewhere, and now that he was getting a good look at her (e/c) eyes and sweet smile everything clicked.

The princess! From his dreams! The one he saves all the time and talks to. He actually almost stood to call out to her before he realized that he was being unreasonable. They probably just looked similar! That girl was just a figment of his mind he can’t just talk to every girl that looks like her.

⦻

After the next few weeks Toby watched. When he finished the mission he needed for that day, he would quickly dash to her house. She was a simple girl with a simple routine. Tobias loved simple really. His life was anything but. She walks the same path everyday it turns out, just to sit at that rickety old bench. He also picked up on some of her mannerisms. Like how when she’s happy she tends to skip and lean on the balls of her feet, almost like a bird about to take flight, but hesitant to do so? If that makes sense. When she’s stressed or frustrated she walks flat but not just flat it’s almost like slap to the floor. When she sad she tends to mess with her hair a lot. A nervous habit he supposed. She also hums or sings to herself a lot. It sounds…wonderful.

Toby has heard plenty of nice voices before but her voice…it wasn’t just nice or beautiful it was almost…haunting. Like it was something he wasn’t even supposed to be hearing in the first place. As if she was calling to creatures that didn’t exist in this worldly plane. It made his head buzz. In a weird way.

Anyway, he was happy for her carefree nature because it made it incredibly easy to follow from day to day. She never saw him, not really. Sometimes, she’d pause, her head tilting as if she sensed something—or someone—just out of view. But Toby was good at hiding, blending into the shadows like smoke, his eyes never leaving her.

Sometimes, when he was feeling brave, he’d clean himself up, and slap a bandage over the gaping hole in face, he’d even run an old brush through his hair, and wash it, he’d wash his clothes, and head out into town where she was. He would walk past where she was, his head down, their arms just barely brushing, it made Toby’s skin tingle with excitement. Sometimes when she was with her friends, he’d stand nearby and stare if they were distracted enough.

One time, he slipped up. He was doing his usual routine. She was at the arcade with her friend. A male friend but from observation Tobias knew they were nothing more than that. Toby loved the arcade…used to go all the time before the incident.

…

Toby watched as she encouraged her friend ‘Moon’ to win her a prize at the claw game. (Who names their fucking kid that by the way? ‘Moon’ it’s gotta be a nickname right?) That’s when it happened…right there.

Through the glass, through the moving claw, through the people passing through, she looked up once, then a second..very briefly, she locked eyes with him. For the briefest of moments, her gaze brushed his, a spark of recognition flaring in her eyes before it faded. She didn’t know him, not yet—but he could feel the connection, thrumming beneath his skin like a secret waiting to be told. Toby felt his face burn. ‘Moon’ cheered and held up a stuffed animal. “I GOT ONE! (Y/N), I GOT ONE!” (Y/n)….Tobys eyes glazed over.

That was the first time she had even actually seen him. He was watching her again the next day in the forest, she made her way back to that bench she liked so much…he was thinking about cleaning it for her. It was sunny day today, hot one would say. Tobias couldn’t tell. He can’t feel pain, he also can’t feel temperature. Seeing her in the sundress not only made his heart pound, but reminded him to remove his jacket. Masky wasn’t here to rudely yank it off in reminder so he had to be careful not to overheat. Someone would have called the scene beautiful. Sunlight peeking through the trees, leaves fluttered in the wind, bird sung at the new day.

Tobias, hidden away, felt detached from it all. Like all the dark spots of the forest floor were only meant for him. While she deserved to stay in the sunshine…The forest was alive with warmth and light, but all Toby could focus on was her—how she glided through the golden beams, her hands brushing the leaves like they belonged to her. His world had shrunk to the size of her silhouette.

His fingers curled, digging into the bark of the tree as she tilted her head back to laugh at something he couldn’t hear. He wanted to be closer—to hear it, to see her smile up close—but he stayed rooted in place, afraid of what might happen if he dared to step into the light.

He stood, like a frozen statue, waiting, watching…longing…needing. It felt like a need. Like when he needed to drink or eat. When was the last time he ate again? He remembered (Y/n) had french toast for breakfast and spaghetti for dinner last night while she watched her shows and played…sims? (Honestly the things she was doing in that game would be considered questionable but he wasn’t too worried about that while he watched her giggle….and trap random men in her basement it seems.) Just as he came to the conclusion that his last meal was two days ago he saw her stand to leave, slipping away as the wind picked up, slipping the the ribbon out of her hair without realizing it.

As soon as you were out of sight Toby dashed into the clearing, tripping over a root as he did and taking a tumble and grabbing the ribbon into his fist. He laid in the leaves as he looked at it, clutched in his fist, the sun shining down on him as he grinned widely. The fresh baby blue contrasting against his pale gray skin. It’s a sign. A sign of the secret bond between she doesn’t realize they share. Yeah…maybe she dropped it on purpose. Or maybe whatever fucked up force that ruined Toby’s life was trying to gift him something.

Either way it was his now.

And so were you.

(If you guys could comment or just interact that be great I’d love to hear feedback or just parts you liked 🩷🎀 Helps me keep writing if you want another chapter Thank you darlings)

Edit: New chapter coming out Friday, September 27th for those who are interested.

[mirandasidefics]

Its more as if why Rhysand and Azriel behaves in a certain hostile way and passive aggressive towards reader. Especially Rhysand is so short tempered and quick to be angered when it comes to reader because he's scared he might lose everything he earned due to him suspecting reader of being smth

I think I had answered a similar question to this previously here, but I can expand or clarify in this post.

Rhysand:

Rhysand's actions regarding Reader are 99% driven by fear. He fully believes that she is in Prythian for a reason and was very likely brought to their world by a higher power. This is based on the fact that time and time again she has failed to demonstrate any capability to use magic and has showed no signs of having magical power.

This is a frightening notion for someone like Rhysand. He finally has everything he wanted in life and suddenly there's all these fucking people showing up in his court that aren't supposed to be there.

Bryce arrived by accident! And after she arrived she tells Rhysand that, oh by the way, the beings that used to enslave the Fae are wanting to come back to conquer your world again. Thus, they are very likely going to kill you (which would then in turn mean the death of his mate because of that asinine mutual death agreement they made in ACOWAR), the death of his son who's his only heir, and the enslavement and/or death of the rest of his loved ones. Rhysand recognizes that he is at risk of losing EVERYTHING now that people from other worlds have the ability to randomly arrive.

Those from Midgard are working on a plan to take out the Asteri before the Asteri find a way to return to Prythian. So, he offers them aid and doesn't pick a fight because they could just allow the Asteri right through the portal(s) and its on sight for all involved and likely ends with the destruction of Prythian as they know it.

The same cannot be said for Reader. For all Rhysand knows there is a stronger more formidable foe waiting for the right chance to strike because of Reader's presence. Therefore, she is the only target that Rhysand can take his fear fueled emotions out on. To his knowledge there is no reasonable explanation for Reader being there (even if he recognizes that the reason has just not yet been revealed).

Unfortunately, his frustrations and fear end up transferring over to Prythian's "on world" problems such as Beron and the Autumn Court, Tamlin and the Spring Court, and Koschei. So, he also starts blaming Reader's presence/existence for those issues having not yet been resolved. She effectively becomes the scape goat for EVERYTHING.

Does any of this make his actions right or justified? Hell no. Does it make for an interesting narrative that is not exactly the standard for how Rhys is portrayed in fanfiction. I'll let all of you be the judge. I will say that there is room for growth regarding his and Reader's dynamic, which may or may not include Rhys getting his ass handed to him by certain individuals.

Azriel:

Azriel does not hate nor dislike Reader to any extent. He was following orders when he interrogated Reader because that is part of his job as Spy Master. He didn't like having to torture her, especially when it became apparent that she knew absolutely nothing about how she got there.

He is, however, frustrated at the situation. He feels a pull towards her but cannot for the life of himself figure out what that is. This results in Azriel becoming jealous of Reader's relationship with Lucien and Ruhn. He sees how she has sought them out for comfort so easily and wishes that he could provide the same. He has convinced himself that he wants to make up for the pain he initially caused her. So, there are times when his jealousy unfortunately makes him be an asshole towards her via snide comments.

Reader has pointed out this behavior and explained what the differences and barriers are to them becoming close in the same capacity she is with the other males. Azriel is trying to be more mindful of her trauma that is directly in correlation to him and his actions early on in their shared history. He is also learning to adjust his behaviors and the way he interacts with her to ensure that she does start to feel safe and respected when in his company.

I personally feel that when it comes to matters of the heart, Azriel's personality and intelligence go out the window entirely. He is a different person from the calculating and intimidating spy master and mindful and courteous friend we all know he is capable of being in canon. His self-loathing and feelings of being unworthy take center stage and he becomes his own worst enemy. (I could write a whole post about how this is most apparent in his interactions with Mor and Elain, but I won't).

TL:DR- Rhysand's behaviors are based on fear. Azriel's behaviors are based on jealousy.

I hope that answers your question and provides some clarity on Reader's dynamics with Rhysand and Azriel.

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 1

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 1 of 7. 4291 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack. Minor spoilers for Flight of Icarus.

Authors Note:  Hi there! I'm Dom, occasional dabbler in fanfiction. I started writing this story on June 29th, 2024. Roughly 30k in total parts later, and I'm unleashing her piece by piece 😂 This has been a true labor of love, and I hope someone out there enjoys reading it even a fraction of as much as I enjoyed writing it. Steddie forever.

Eddie Munson wakes up on a Monday morning immediately concerned by the amount of sunlight coming into his bedroom. 

Scrambling to sit up, his bleary eyes fell on the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock that had definitely reset at some point in the night, and was now mocking him with what was no doubt a wildly inaccurate time.

Filled with dread, he snatches up his wrist watch that's sat in front of it, peering into the little face before he screams, “Fuck!” Launching himself from his bed a moment later, cursing his luck.

He is so late.

He’s got a mere nineteen minutes before he’s supposed to be in the office with his nightmare boss’s morning coffee and protein box, or all hell will break loose. 

And with as many soul-crushing years as he’s poured into this job, he’s determined not to lose it over breakfast.

Desperate to save his own ass, he gets ready in record time, rushing out of the door with his work clothes in disarray as he speeds down the busy city street.

He’s cutting it way too close - but he’s hopeful he can make it - right up until he’s forced to skid to a stop as he breaches the front door of the Starbucks. 

A long line looms in front of him, the morning rush in full swing by this point of the morning, and his face falls at the sight.

However, before his devastation can fully settle in, he hears the call of “Eddie!” A hand behind the counter shooting up as a voice shouts out. “Your usual!” 

Tammy, a barista who’s been serving (and flirting with) him every day for as long as he can remember, smiles brightly as he jumps the line, handing him off two coffee cups in a carrier, along with a bag containing his boss’s breakfast order.

“Oh shit! You literally saved my life! Thank you so much Tammy!” Eddie drops a fifty on the counter from his emergency cash as he goes. The barista titters behind one of her hands at him, pushing a lock of tousled hair behind her ear as he bolts for the office.

He makes it to his building a few minutes later, just barely catching the elevator. Once it shuts behind him, Eddie promptly folds in half, chest heaving, practically wheezing to catch his breath.

Cursing himself for not being in better shape, he dismisses his coworker’s alarmed looks and manages to compose himself by the time he reaches his floor. Rushing out as his coworker Sam shouts “You’re cutting it close!” at him. 

“I know! I know!” Eddie’s replying, in such a hurry to get to his desk that he doesn’t account for the slow reflexes of the mailroom employee who’s come up to make his morning delivery. 

The two promptly crash into each other, one of the cups of coffee a casualty of their collision.

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaims. The hot liquid is now clinging to his button-down, and he can vaguely see the shape of the death of his career aspirations in the stain starting to form.

“Sorry!” The mailman sheepishly says, looking uselessly for something to clean it with before Eddie waves him off, muttering about how he was equally to blame.

Even so. Lamenting his no good, terrible, very bad, morning, he rushes to his coworkers cubicle, saying in lieu of greeting to him, “I need the shirt off your back, literally.” 

Patrick, it seems, could not care any less, looking disdainfully at Eddie’s ruined button down. “You’re kidding, right?” 

Eddie doesn’t have time for this. He resorts to bribery. “Red Hot Chili Peppers. This Friday. Two tickets and company VIP passes for your shirt. You have five seconds to decide.��� Glances at the clock and starts to count down. “Five, four-“

“Deal.” Patrick mutters before popping the buttons of his shirt, and shrugging it off. Eddie does the same, giving him the stained shirt and donning the clean one as he starts to hear small pinging sounds throughout the office, notifications going from desktop to desktop. 

Just as Eddie is buttoning the last of the buttons, pulling his long hair from where it had gotten stuck in one of them from his haste, he dives into his chair, reading the chat that pops up from @Samantha.Stone that reads, HBIC incoming! 

The rest of the office reacts to her message accordingly. High heels are slipped on in place of comfortable flats, pocket mirrors are pulled out to make sure eyeliner is just so and that there’s no incriminating spinach in between teeth. Casual magazines are shoved away and spreadsheets pulled up - rosaries are clutched tight and prayed with. Like it’ll help.

At Sam’s warning, Eddie takes his place outside of the glass doors to his boss’s office. Righting himself, he straightens out his clothing and fixes his hair, holding out the coffee cup that was supposed to be his in one hand and the plastic breakfast box in the other.

Lo and behold, moments later, just as Sam had forewarned, the demon himself appears. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

With his perfect untouchable hair and pristine suit, his discerning hazel eyes are locked in on his phone, not even noticing the fake smile Eddie puts on as he approaches, his walk brisk and evenly measured as Eddie chirps. “Morning boss! You have a half an hour until your conference call.” 

Steve doesn’t even look up from his phone as he nods in disinterest, leaving Eddie with the task of handing him the hot coffee and breakfast all while taking his bag from him, without dropping anything. 

“Yes I know.” He replies dryly. 

“Staff meeting at 9.” Eddie continues, as he walks into the office behind him, Steve settling into his large leather chair. 

“Did you call… um…” Steve groans, spinning said chair to face the desk, “Uh, what’s her name? The one with the ugly hands?” He snaps his fingers repeatedly as if that will speed the answer along. 

“Yes.” Eddie offers. Knowing who he means, nodding as he passes him a stack of papers. 

Steve goes into it immediately, flipping post-its and thumbing through pages. Eddie continues, “Yes, I did call her. I told her your thoughts about her client's new album and the deadline for getting the finalizations to the sound engineers.” 

Steve hands some of the papers back to him, straightening the remainders as Eddie goes on about the tasks on the agenda for today. “Also, your immigration lawyer called. He said it’s imperative that you-” Eddie’s words come to a stop when Steve raises his hand.

“Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets.” Steve pauses in his work, a bit of smugness to his tone as he adds. “Oh, and get a hold of PR, have them start drafting a press release. The little songbird my colleagues so generously called ‘unattainable’ is now performing at the Grammys.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in awe. No matter how much of a terror his boss was, he was impressive in his own right, “Wow. Nicely done.” He compliments.

Steve scoffs, turning in his chair to his computer screen, all confidence and bitchiness as he replies. “If I want your praise, I will ask for it.” 

Eddie takes the words as a dismissal. Steve wasn’t going to ever actually ask him for praise. Eddie’s praise didn’t mean shit to someone like Steve.

So he goes, and as he does so, Steve moves to drink his coffee, pausing when he notices something unusual on his cup.

He clears his throat to catch his subordinate’s attention and Eddie stops walking, pausing in the doorway.

“Who is— who is Tammy Thompson? And why does she want me to call her?” Steve’s eyebrows are raised as he turns the coffee cup to show the side where it says, Call me! Above a phone number, signed enthusiastically by said Tammy Thompson, with a sharpie heart.

Eddie pales at the sight. Floundering as he timidly explains. “Well… that was originally my cup.” 

Steve looks down at the cup with scorn, voice dull. “And I’m drinking your coffee why?” 

Eddie is grappling. “Because your coffee spilled.”

Steve takes a sip, and after doing so, his tone becomes accusatory. “So, you drink lavender oat milk lattes?” He asks. 

“I do.” Eddie nods. 

Steve smirks at him then, “Is that a coincidence?” 

“Incredibly, it is.” The phone rings, and Eddie feels a small semblance of security that he can keep his job a little while longer as he crosses the room to answer it, “I mean, I wouldn’t possibly drink the same coffee you drink just in case yours spilled. That would be pathetic.” Eddie chuckles, voice laced with sarcasm as he picks up the phone. 

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” Eddie greets. 

“Hey, Munson. It’s Hargrove.” Eddie hears as he spares a glance at Steve - who's already found something else to scrutinize if his back being to him with his fingers clicking away at the keyboard is any indication. 

“Hey, Mr. Hargrove.” Eddie responds, his words causing Steve to turn around abruptly, with a wicked smile that immediately unsettles him.

“Just confirming Steve and I are still on for our 8:10, this morning. He emailed me about it last night.” 

Eddie looks at Steve with a confused expression, answering reflexively although he had no prior knowledge of this meeting. “Actually, we’re headed to your office right now.” He puts the phone down when Billy’s line goes dead. 

“Why are we headed to Hargrove’s office?” He questions Steve, who gives him a dry look in response that Eddie interprets as ‘What’s it to you? You do as I say.’

A fair point if he’s being honest. And, rather than wait for an answer that won’t come, Eddie rushes ahead of Steve, beating him out of the door with a second to spare as he gets to his keyboard, working quickly to send a message office wide. 

@Edward_Munson: *is typing…*

Dings sound as his message goes out.

HE’S ON THE MOVE!

The notification spreads, alerting the whole floor as they all scramble to pretend to be working just as Steve comes strutting out of his office. 

Eddie follows him at a quick pace, trying to ignore his brain playing the imperial march after them as he takes advantage of this rare moment where Steve has nothing in front of him to ask, “Have you listened to my demo yet?” 

“Uh, I listened to the first few songs.” Steve responds, surprised, before the cool expression comes back, “I wasn’t that impressed.” 

Eddie sighs, disappointment stinging as he bites his lip, “Can I say something?” 

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “No.” 

Eddie persists, “I know my music, okay? There’s an album here. A good one - the kind of album you used to produce.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Uh, wrong. Also, don’t ever imply that I don’t still produce good albums, and, for what it’s worth, I do think you order the same coffee as me, just in case you spill. Which is, in fact, pathetic.” 

“Or impressive.” Eddie counters weakly. 

“It’d be impressive if you didn’t spill it in the first place.” As they approach the office they're aiming for, he reminds Eddie, “Now remember, you’re just a prop in here.” 

“Won’t say a word.” Eddie mutters, and follows Steve inside as he waltzes right up to their coworkers desk, the other man barely looking up to acknowledge him.

Ouch. Eddie knows Steve won’t take that lightly…and his stomach becomes unsettled by the display of testosterone he knows he’s about to witness.

They get right to it. 

“Our fearless leader, and his right hand man.” William “Billy” Hargrove jeers, still without pausing whatever it is he’s doing on his laptop. “So nice of you to visit my office.”

“Ah.” The side of Steve’s mouth quirks up in a smile, eyeing his office furniture. “Nice desk. Is it new?” 

“It is. Handcrafted. No one does artisanship like the Italians.” Billy replies without looking up. 

His statement, in their present company, could have easily been misconstrued as flattery - but Eddie knows better. Billy Hargrove doesn’t care enough to appeal to Steve, and so if he’s saying it, he must truly believe it.

Not that it would have worked anyways. Steve takes in his answer as he laments with a small sigh, mumbling “So true.” Like the fact of it is tragic, before he leads right into his next thought, with no hesitation or sympathy, declaring, “Billy, I am letting you go.”

Hargrove looks up from his computer then - eyes wide with disbelief, and even Eddie - who thought he knew Steve well - is looking at Steve with barely contained shock. 

“Excuse me?” Billy repeats, glancing at Eddie who expertly avoids his eyes as he closes the door in order to stop anyone from listening in on their conversation. 

Billy looks back at their boss as Steve goes on. “I asked you over a dozen times to get the performer I wanted for the Grammys, and you didn’t do it. You didn’t even try, did you?” 

“T-They’re unattainable-“ the other man stammers.

“And yet just this morning, I attained them.” Steve replied. Clicking his tongue in disappointment. 

“But…” Billy starts. 

Steve smiles sarcastically, nodding, “I know. I know. Celebrities can be a little scary. For you. That’s okay.” He placates. 

Moving across the office as he makes the other man an offer. “Now, I will give you two months to find another job, and then you can tell everyone that you resigned, okay?” 

Satisfied with his own generosity, Steve turns toward Eddie, motioning for him to open the door. They both walk out of the office hastily. 

Once they’re out of ear shot, his boss’ eyes shift to Eddie, walking at his side. “What's his 20?” Steve whispers at him, making Eddie look back for him. 

Behind them, Billy’s pacing in his office like a caged animal, pulling at his hair. “He’s moving. He has crazy eyes.” Eddie whispers back as he tries to match Steve’s steps. 

Steve frowns deeply, still whispering. “Don’t do it, Billy. Don’t do it.”

But it happens. Moments later, Billy charges out of the office screaming. “You son of a bitch!” The exclamation followed by collective gasping from onlookers. 

Steve and Eddie stop walking, both of them turning to Billy even as the pitying look settles across Steve’s face.

“You can’t fire me!” Billy yells. “You don’t think I can see what you’re doing here? Setting me up so you can get rid of me and make yourself look like a hero to the board!” Billy points, “Because you are threatened by me!” 

Steve's face changes then - pity turning to amusement as he breaks out in a playful smile in answer to Billy continuing on his rant, “You are a monster.” 

“Billy, stop.” Steve says, that smile being redirected as he looks reassuringly to the other employees that have started to watch the commotion. Ever the picture of ease, even as Billy hurls insults at him.

Billy goes on. “Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think that you can treat all of us like your own personal slaves.” Billy moves closer. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you’ll have on your deathbed?”

He’s near enough to them now that Eddie can see split flying, the assistant flinching as he snarls “Nothing and no one.” 

But while Eddie winces at his words, Steve just lets out a sympathetic noise, moving closer until the two men are toe to toe, his answering voice honey sweet. 

“Listen carefully, Billy. I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. No.” Billy glances around the office in arrogant disbelief, as if aid will be found there.

Steve continues. “I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do in your office.” Billy’s eyes widen as Steve goes on. “And if you say another word, Eddie here is going to have you thrown out on your ass, okay?” 

Billy opens his mouth to object, but Steve continues, “Another word. Another word and you’re out of here with an armed escort. Eddie will film it with his camera phone, and put it online. Is that what you want?” 

Billy gives the two of them murderous glares, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Didn’t think so.” When he’s satisfied, Steve finally turns his back on them, walking down the hall. 

Eddie is glued to him like his shadow as Steve instructs him flatly, “Have the interns take his desk and move it to my office.” 

“Will do.” Eddie replies. 

“Also, I need you around this weekend to help review his clients.” He adds, Eddie stumbling to a stop.

“This weekend?” He repeats in surprise.

“You have a problem with that?” Steve glares. 

Eddie stutters, “No. I - Just - it’s  my uncle’s 65th birthday so I was gonna go home and-'' Steve waves a hand dismissively, clearly having been rhetorical in his asking as he heads into his office, not even listening to what Eddie’s saying as he stutters through promising to cancel and be available to Steve. 

Then Eddie deflates.

He hasn’t made it home for a birthday since Wayne’s 60th - back before he started this godforsaken job. And now he has to tell him that he’ll be missing another.

He knows Wayne will understand. He always does. But it doesn’t change the fact that Eddie works for the devil. 

The old man tells him as much on a call around lunch, suggesting, as he always does, that he quit if it’s making him miserable.

Eddie launches into his usual defense, until he sees Steve approaching, and then he’s changing his tone, using his customer service voice dismissively - feigning aiding a client - before quickly getting off the call.

“That your family?” Steve asks bitterly. No misapprehension on his end. Not even for a moment.

Eddie puts the phone on the receiver. Doesn’t lie. “Yes.”

“They tell you to quit?” He presses.

“Every single day.” Eddie replies, and then without missing a beat, picks up the phone as it rings. “Mr. Harrington’s office.” He greets, eyes still on Steve. His loyal devotee.

A woman’s voice on the other end of the phone overshadows Steve’s gloom as she tells him. “Hello, this is the office of Mr. Holloway. He’d like to speak to Mr. Harrington in his office as soon as possible, please.” 

“Oh. Okay. All right.” The two hang up.

“Holloway wants to see you upstairs immediately.” He tells Steve.

Steve groans in reply, “Fine. Come and get me in ten minutes with an excuse. We’ve got a lot to do.” 

Steve repeats it as he walks away, like Eddie is an idiot, despite him not failing him once in years. “Ten minutes.” 

“Okay.” Eddie answers, trying not to look at Steve’s ass as he heads to the elevators. And failing spectacularly, as he always does.

While he’s gone, Eddie stares at the clock as it ticks to the next minute. After five, he heads upstairs. He whispers a quick hello to Nicole, Mr. Holloway’s secretary, before hesitating outside of the office to the company president, waiting to interrupt down to the minute. 

Once it has been ten minutes exactly, he knocks, the voices inside halting before Mr. Holloway, is yelling for him to come in.

He pokes his head inside, still holding the door open, only to find the both men in pause, Steve turning his head at him, as Mr. Holloway sees who it is, his expression mildly perturbed. 

“We’re in a meeting.” He says in a clipped tone, but Eddie is infinitely more afraid of displeasing Steve than someone who at least must have a shred of human understanding in him.

He musters his most charming smile, “Sorry to interrupt.” Rattling off his excuse, he notes how Steve’s whole body seems to unload some of its usual tension, his whole demeanor changing. 

Steve’s looking at him with relief, and Eddie is put off by it, by the way Steve catches his eye as he mouths “Come here,” when Eddie is done speaking, his head jerking forward for Eddie to come in. 

Eddie obeys immediately, coming over from where he was standing at the door, walking slowly to Steve’s side as he watches Tom watch the two of them. 

Steve turns back to Mr. Holloway, “Tom I understand… I understand the predicament that we are in.” 

“And—” Steve spares him another look. “And…there’s…well, I mean…There’s something that you should know.” Steve clears his throat, building to this information as he looks at Eddie.

Then Steve declares, “We’re getting married.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “Who’s getting married?” He whispers, his incredulous question said loud enough for only him to hear. Steve smiles at him, the dazzling version he reserves for clients. But not Eddie. Never Eddie. 

“You and I, sweetheart. We’re getting married.” He nearly whispers back. Like it wasn’t news to them both.

Steve nods as if he has further settled into this idea, looking back to their boss as he repeats. “We’re getting married. Eddie and I.” 

Then Steve gives him a familiar look - one that has always meant ‘Do this or I’ll fire you.’

Eddie suddenly finds that he can’t nod fast enough. “Yes! Yes!” 

He looks back at Mr. Holloway as well as he confirms, “We are getting married.” The words feel clunky in his mouth.

And maybe it’s a joke, a misunderstanding, a test of loyalty that surely he’s going to pass?

Only the company president hesitates at his confirmation, addressing Steve as he asks in slight amusement but wholehearted confusion. “Isn’t he… your secretary?” 

“Executive assistant.” Eddie butts in to clarify, like it makes any difference at all. 

Steve laughs heartily, going for the kill. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries. Would it, Tom?” 

Tom gives him a wry sort of ‘you-got-me-there’ smile when he mentions it - Steve bringing to recall a similar event transpiring with his (third?) wife.

“So, yeah…The truth is, you know, Eddie and I. We’re…we are uh, just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love, but we did. All those late nights at the office, the music…” Steve squeezes Eddie’s arm then and continues, “I tried to fight it, and well, you can’t fight a love like this.” 

Tom actually looks satisfied and Steve clears his throat. “So… Are we good - with this? Are you happy? Because we are happy.” Steve gestures to the two of them, “So happy.” 

Tom smiles, voice soft. “Steve. It’s terrific.” He raises his hand, displaying his own wedding ring. “Just make it legal. Mmm?” 

“Of course! We uh, we need to get ourselves to the immigration office, huh? Straighten this whole mess out.” Steve chuckles, bidding him goodbye before the two head back to their own floor, Eddie’s thoughts a whirlwind.

Eddie tries to follow Steve’s fast footsteps. They’re not even on their floor yet, and the news has already spread. 

Computers ding with notifications, sounding off behind them as they go, the entire office looking at the two of them, unable to hold their whispers until they pass. Patrick snickers at him, making lewd gestures as he passes, his shirt stained with coffee.

Eddie wordlessly follows Steve into his office, closing the door behind him, and watches as his boss exhales a sigh, sitting on his desk and looking at Eddie expectantly - like they were here for a planned meeting and not like he didn’t just announce their engagement.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Reminds himself of why he works here. With this sociopath. Then he tells said sociopath, “I don’t understand what’s happening.” 

“This is for you too.” Steve replies, as though it’s all so simple. 

“Do explain.” Eddie deadpans.

“I was going to be deported, and they were going to give Billy my job.” Steve says, like it makes all the senses in the world.

“So, naturally, I would have to marry you.” Eddie gapes, tone as sarcastic as possible.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve is being sarcastic now too, “Were you saving yourself for someone special?” 

Eddie is mildly offended at what Steve is implying. “I’d like to think so. Plus, you know, it’s illegal.” 

Steve chuckles, “They’re looking for terrorists, not for music producers.” 

“Steve.” Eddie grits out, hoping his voice is coming out firm. 

“Yes?” Steve answers nonchalantly, like they’re just having another conversation about his job performance. 

“I’m not going to marry you.” Eddie insists. 

“Sure you are.” Steve snaps back, “Because if you don’t marry me, your dreams of touching people’s lives with your lyrical prowess are dead.” 

Eddie’s jaw actually drops. Steve bulldozes ahead and breaks it down for him. “Billy is going to fire you the second I’m gone. Guaranteed. Which leaves you unemployed and connectionless in the music industry, begging producers to listen to some no-name’s track. That means that all the time that we spent together - all the lattes, all the canceled dates, all the midnight Excedrin runs, were all for nothing, and you can kiss being any kind of a musician goodbye.”

He continues, as though all hope is not lost. “But don’t worry, after the required allotment of time, we’ll get a quickie divorce, and you’ll be done with me. But until then, like it or not, you are mine. Okay?” 

He’s his.

The phone rings from Eddie’s desk. Steve gestures pointedly out the door, “Phone’s ringing.” 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself other than exit the office and pick it up.

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” He says robotically.

Series Masterlist

Next Part: Part 2

[iiotic]

The burnt memories | Human Alastor oneshot

Human Alastor x Fem reader - one shot

summary: Moving in your hometown was awfully hard for you, staying with you mother you needed to find a job. However you were devastated after you got robbed and humiliated in the process. You remembered your childhood bestfriend but you can't seem to remember his name..

wc: 3k

tw: murder, kidnapping, stalking, Period-Typical racism, Period-Typical sexism, gore, bad English, this is extremely old, short one shot, Angst, childhood friends to strangers, the plot is happening rlly fast, ooc?, not proffread

a/n: originally this was suppose to be a fanfiction but since I really really not enjoy writing for hazbin hotel as I used to I turned it into an oneshot since I don't like my work go to waste. The plot is going rlly fast couse this was suppose to be a fanfiction y'all with a happy little ending where you'd end up with Alastor but I decided to change it a bit.

Moving in your hometown was awfully hard for you. The feeling of nostalgia washed over you, as you saw the forest that you used to play in, when you were a kid. The trees have grown, indeed. You walked up to the old entry, that you and your friend created. It was extremely hard to expose the hidden and abandoned path for two small children. It took hours! However when you two finally succeeded, you had to go home since it was already late and you had to eat dinner.

You truly cherished the memories that you shared with your close ones here. You remembered every story like it happened yesterday. You were a bit shocked to see the path fully exposed. Back in the old days, it was only a little hole that only children could fit it. Half of you was happy, knowing that you won't have to crawl and struggle through the hole that didn't exist anymore. However the other half of you was disappointed, 'cause your hard work got wasted.

Deciding to take a scroll through the forest, you followed the familiar path. Noticing how half of the forest turned into an hunting area, you weren't surprised at all. The hunting season was just around the corner and you were not happy about that. You moved into your old household as your father decided to leave your mother alone. She needed your help and you provided it as you loved your mother dearly. He, himself found a better house in a wealthier area. Unfortunately for you, your house was very close to the once so familiar forest. When you were little everything looked so big and magical but now? The magic had dissapered from the once fairy tale space.

Turning around on your heel, you faced with an abandoned playground. Kids, including you, used to play here a lot. You were shocked when you saw it in its terrible state. The slide dirty with mud and weird black substances, rotted and once more, everything was terribly rotted. After a while of thinking, you began to understand why this place went abandonment. Really, whose idea it was to put a playground inside of a forest?

Continuing your scroll, you began to remember your old childhood friend. What was his name? You couldn't remember. You didn't believe that you forgot such an important thing. His whole face was a blur, yet you still remembered that charming smile of his. Somehow he always managed to make you smile and laugh. You started wondering if he is still as funny as he was in the past. Wait.. Does he still live here? Does he still remember you? You hoped that the answer to both of these questions were positive.

By the time you came back home it was already dark. Walking in, you greeted your mother, apologising for taking so long. She just brushed it off saying that "you don't have to spend all of your life in this house." Chuckling a bit you mentally agreed with her.

Looking around, your eyes were met with your luggage that you did not unpack yet. A sigh escaped your lips as you made your way over to your belongings. The truth is that you were too exhausted to unpack them, however you knew that they just wouldn't unpack themselfs.

Walking into your old room, that holds so much lovely memories from your childhood, you noticed a newspaper on the floor. April 11th, 1929, yesterdays date. Your mother must have opened the window in your room, and the newspaper must have flew it way in here. Dropping your belongings, you just noticed the cold temperature in the room. Freezing even. Closing the window you picked up yesterday's newspaper to look at it.

The axeman of New Orleans attacked again!

There's an axeman going around? How didn't you know that there's a murderer in the place where you grew up in? Anxious, you decided to sit down on your bed and read the rest of the article.

Time flew by and you grew more and more disappointed of the news you just read. No wonder father moved out you thought leaving the newspaper on your nightstand and rubbed your eyes. Tommorow will be a hard day and you knew that. The luggages didn't unpack themself yet so you had to finally do it. Wanting to forget about the informations that you acknowledged you moved to your belongings and started unpacking.

There wasn't really a lot of things there; just some clothes, hygiene stuff, basic writing supplies and some of your most important things that you could never get rid of.

9 pm. That was the time on the clock when you finished unpacking. Exhausted you rolled in your bed, not even thinking of changing into your pijamas. Your mind started to thrift to the events that happened today. The memories of your childhood were truly worthy being in an museum.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, your mind decided to remind you of him, once again. Wait.. What if he was killed my the axeman? You truly hoped that it wasn't true. You thought that maybe, just maybe you two could get the chance to catch up. However the promise.. You had no idea why didn't he keep the promise. Before you could think more about it, your eyes closed by themself.

"Tag, You're it! " You giggled before running deeper into the forest. You heard footsteps mixing with your own behind you, signalling that he was chasing you. Turning, and making an unexpected turn, you failed to notice how your dress got all muddy. You had no idea that you would get scolded after you'd came back home by your mother.

You laugh, as you turned around to see that you successfully lost your friend. Hiding in a bush that slightly tore your dress, you waited for him to give up or to just walk by so you could scare him.

"Boo!"

You screamed as, to your suprise, your friend found you. "not fun.." You mumbled as he helped you get up. "You cheated!"

"I didn't!" He argued, giggling a bit at your indignation. "You're just too easy to catch."

"No i am not!" You gasped in annoyance.

Your argument went on and on, you accusing him of cheating and him defending himself as he told you that he just creeped behind. Before you knew it your legs were leading the way to your houses.

Soon enough it was time to say your goodbyes as you both were standing beside your homes.

"Despite everything, I enjoyed hanging out with you today, ..." Your younger self confessed to him. Wait, him? You clearly heard you say his name. Why couldn't you remember it? Why couldn't you remember his name.

Before you knew it, you were dragged to a pitch black hole. You wanted to scream, but for some reasons you couldn't manage to utter anything.You turned around as you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Nothing was there. You gasped when something dragged you by your legs, finally screaming to let you go.

You jumped out of your bed, sweating in a middle of the night. You could hear the birds chipp as the rain continued to pour rather aggressively.

It was just a nightmare.

"I still don't understand why you have to leave so early, pumpkin?" Your mother asked worringly, her eyes showed that she isn't very sure of what you're trying to do.

"The sooner, the better!" You declared with determination. You were confident with what you're trying to do, hoping that you will find a job in an maximum week. "Can't waste any time, love you, bye!!" You yelled, closing the door behind you. You didn't need any negative energy around you.

Walking down the alley, you turned around to go to the busier side of the town. Head up high, heels clicking with every step you took, your eyes scanning all of the shops that were near you. However there was one that caught your attention..

Stepping in the boutique, you noticed how clean and neat it was. All of the newest dresses, coats and jewelry displayed for customers eyes. You could get used to it..

Walking up the counter, you rang a little bell on it. You jumped as your heard a sudden voice behind you.

"Good morning dear, do you need any help?" An older woman asked you, moving to face you behind the counter. You could tell that she was in her 50s.

"um.." You looked at her, still startled, not knowing what to say. You thought that you would have some time to think about it. She looked at you with a confused look and you took it as a signal to finally say something.

"I was wondering if you need help. I mean if you need help with the job.. around the boutique." You finally uttered. Fixing your clothes and straightening your posture to look presentable. Her umber eyes staring into your determined ones.

"I apologize sweetie, but i'm not looking for any workers at the moment" Her mode shifted a bit when she saw your sad look. You were disappointed, even though you knew that you won't get a job at your first try.

"That's fine, do you by any chance know someone or an shop that is short on staff?" You asked, with hope in your eyes.

"Unfortunately." she looked down and started searching for something behind the counter. "However i could contact you if I'll acknowledge any in the area? I know how it is looking for a job these days." Before you could think about what she said, the woman asked you for your name. Giving you her number; in case you wanted to contact her, after writing your own name down on an another card.

"Thank you so much ma'am." You thanked her after introducing yourself. "It means a lot to me."

"Oh! No need to be so formal. Call me Louise." You gave the woman a kind smile, before repeating her name and saying your goodbye.

You had plenty of time left, it was only nine am, and now you were questioning yourself why'd you leave this early. Pheraps your mother was right, after all. Eyeing all of the buildings around you, you decided to go to a florist next.

Before you could take another step a young boy stopped you.

"Miss, would you like to buy a newspaper? They're only 15 cents each!" You looked at him, at the newspaper that he was holding and back at him. Pheraps it would be useful. You could tell that the little bit was struggling, wanting to earn some money. So were you.

"of course, little one."

He smiled widely at your response waiting for you to find your money. You handed him the 15 cents shortly after, in exchange, earning today's newspaper. Before you could thank him, he already run off. Confused you looked back at the newspaper you were holding, about to read it.

Wait a second..

That's yesterday's newspaper! This little boy tricked you. These kids these days.. You sighed, not having the strength to run after him, continuing your way to the flower shop.

Soon enough you arrived at your destination, the bell rang as you stepped into the shop.

Looking around you were fascinated with the interior, everything looked so pretty that you couldn't get enough of it. The different types of flowers; Roses, Tulips, hibiscus..

And Oof!

"I'm so sorry mr.. I was in the way." You apologized as you bumped into a rather tall stranger. His skin was in the shade of caramel and his hair just slightly darker. He looked at you almost out of pity, is he making fun of you?

"No need to apologize, clearly I wasn't looking where I was heading as well." He calmly explained, fixing his coat from any dust that could get on it. "If I may ask your name, dear?"

You quickly introduced yourself, putting your head up for him to shake it, to your dismay he didn't even touch you.

"Well what a lovely name for such a lovely lady like yourself! My name? Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you."

"Alastor? Did I know someone names Alastor?" You thought but quickly recovered. As flawless as this conversation was going you had to continue your journey. Excusing yourself from the gentleman you began asking for a job once again.

"Woman. What makes you think that this is a job for a woman?" The man behind the lada laughed at you, shooing you out of his establishment. "A woman could never handle a job as tough as this one."

You wanted to cry, you truly did. This was the 6th building you visited today, all of them didn't need help and it was already getting dark. Devastated you left the store, not wanting to get even more humiliated. Your next stop? Your house. You thought about how dissapointed your mother must be in you, you'd can't want to look her in the eyes.

As you were walking, step by step by your childhood forest you heard some bushes rustling behind you, now you felt like you were getting watched. Paranoid you turned on your heel to look behind you.. No ones there. You let a sigh of relief, but before you could turn around you felt yourself getting sleepy..

Dark.

That's what you saw, everything dark and even darker. You squinted your eyes after opening them to not get blinded by the light. After you got used to it, you looked at your surroundings..

Basement, you were in a basement? How did you end up here, you don't remember. Your head hurts like hell and your mind 8s spinning. Trying to get up you failed miserably and only hurt yourself by the chains you were chained up to. "what..?" You thought.

"And that I am dizzy with a dame like you." You heard a familiar voice behind you, wanting to turn around but couldn't as you were chained up. "don't worry I'll make it quick for my lady."

Opening your mouth to speak, to whisper, to scream.. You realized you couldn't do any of those, your mouth stuffed with something.

"You're probably wondering where are you? who am i? what is this man gonna do to me? aren't you? Well.." The sound of loud metal could be heard in the entire basement as he hit you with a metal pipe on the head. You were quickly losing blood, a stray of blood coming from the insides of your head, from your nose, from your mouth. Before you passed out you did that you heard his last words to you or rather to himself..

"I don't need any disturbance in my life, I don't need love its a distraction."

ALASTOR MASTERLIST

[atmajolish]

obey me as fanfiction tropes lucifer - meet the family

you don't know why you have never met his family, just that every time the topic comes up he does his best to avoid it. at this point you think he might be the head of a mafia and simply doesn't want to involve you in the 'family business'. it's a surprise when he suddenly invites you to join a dinner with his family and when you go you realise that you got it all wrong. it's not that his family is all serious and involved in the mafia, it's that they are so chaotic it's hard to keep up. even for lucifer.

mammon - bodyguard au

being famous is only fun when your life and privacy isn't threatened by a stalker, hence why your manager decided to get you a bodyguard. you aren't quite sure how mammon is supposed to protect you, considering he seems to be easily distracted and like he hates spending time with you as he seems to think you are just like any other famous person, ready to abandon your morals the moment it suits you. but when he saves your life you're forced to reevaluate your opinion of him. maybe you can make him rethink his opinion on you as well.

leviathan - friends to lovers

you and levi have known each other since forever. you went to the same elementary school and when you saw that levi seemed to like the same cartoon you did, you just had to befriend him! several years down the line you are now in university while levi is making his main income via streaming. it feels hard to connect the same way you used to with how different your lives are these days, but you refuse to give this friendship up. the fact that you might see levi as more than a friend has nothing to do with that.

satan - coffee shop (cat café)

working as a barista in a cat café sounded like a fun way to work in theory. in practice you don't make a lot of coffee, but spend your time cleaning up after the cats. the fact that this guy keeps coming in without ordering anything and just watches the cats for at least an hour before leaving. you're sure it's against the rules, but you don't want to be the one to confront him. you don't get paid for that after all. however, he must have noticed you staring at him because he is coming over and how did you get to the point where he is telling you cat facts?

asmodeus - fake dating

you're unsure how you ended up owing a favour to mammon out of all people, but he's cashing it in right now. apparently his brother has troubles getting rid of an admirer and you're the only possible person who would agree to fake date him and keep shut about it. which is why you and asmo are now sitting in his living room deciding to come up with a way on how you fell in love. it would be so easy if your traitorous heart would just stop fluttering every time he reaches out to hold your hand in public.

beelzebub - soulmate au

sharing the taste with your soulmate sounds good in theory. of course you had to get unlucky with it as your soulmate seems to eat almost constantly and have no limits as to what exactly they eat. you've tasted multiple inedible things and at this point you're concerned for your soulmates health because there are probably repercussions for eating paper. when you see your lab partner trying to eat some of the chemicals you're working with it doesn't take you long to put two and two together. you can't even be mad for all the things you were forced to taste because beel is just cute enough to get away with it.

belphegor - roommates

you are used to your roommate falling asleep in the weirdest spots and it's a miracle he doesn't wake up with severe neck and back pain every day. however when he starts sleeping in your room because 'he likes the company' you need to start rethinking some of your feelings. when you ask him why he doesn't just sleep in his own bed, you only get a sigh and belphie tells you that it's no use sleeping there, because you aren't there. maybe belphie had already figured his feelings out long before you.

diavolo - arranged marriage

being in an arranged marriage was made out to be a lot worse than it actually was. at least in your case. you've known diavolo since you were kids and the both of you had always known it would come to this at one point. still, the thought of possibly ruling a kingdom at his side was a bit daunting. it's when he reassures you that he will handle it and plans out several shenanigans just to distract you from the pressure, that you think maybe you can fall in love with him.

barbatos - time loop

you've been forced to repeat the same day over and over again every time you die and no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to figure out who your killer is. you're sure it's always the same person and they should be the only who is also aware of the time loop, but detective work has never been your strength. it's when a friend of a friend mentions something you said several time loops ago that cold horror washes over you. you never expected barbatos, the guy you sorta had a crush on to be your murderer.

simeon - elementary school teacher

teachers aren't supposed to have favorite students, but it's hard to not like luke just a bit more than the rest. if only because he's the one that listens to you most of the time. what you don't expect is that his dad is also exactly your type, so you really can't help but stare for a bit when simeon first walks in for the parent-teacher conference. what you also don't expect is simeon giving you his number since luke will move to a different school soon. when you ask what the number is for, he hides a smile before telling you it's his way of asking you out.

solomon - reincarnation

you don't know how often you have died and been reborn again. it's been a lot of times. the thing is, you have the easy part. the dying and the reincarnating. your lover solomon has the hard part as he is unable to die and has to live without you until your soul has come back to earth. your memories fade a little more each time you come back and you don't know how long you will be able to keep remembering him, nor how long he will keep on waiting for you.

mephistoteles - enemies to lovers

there are many things you could say about mephistoteles, however it would always be that you kinda hate him. he's stuck up, rich, and can't look past his own nose. you know he thinks about you just as badly so every single time you two see each other you only exchange glares and maybe a few insults if either of you is in a particular bad mood. it's when you're forced to work together for a project that you are forced to see him in a new light, no matter how much you hate that there is more to him than the image you have in your head.

raphael - secret agents

working with raphael has always been easy. he listens well and he can easily kill and get out without much issue. it's only problematic that he refuses to accept any help whatsoever from you, insisting it's easier if he just does it alone. normally you should be happy about that, it means less work for you, but something about it just irks you. it's when a mission goes south that the two of you finally have a heart to heart and realise that working together might be easier than it seems.

thirteen - hitman/target

there's been a hitman trailing after you for a while now. there have been too many freak accidents near you for them to be just accidents. it's when you enter your apartment and see said hitman casually lounging on your couch, eating your snacks, watching your tv. you definitely didn't think she'd be this pretty. her complaining about how you keep avoiding her traps and take out all of the fun of job, reminds you that she is sent to kill you though. it sure is a surprise when she decides to take her time and instead pose as your roommate for the time being and with every day it gets just a bit harder to distinguish whether she still wants to kill you or there is actually more to your relationship.

[mixu]

Hi, hope you are doing well. )

I am curious to know your impressions, anecdotes, experience of being a veteran SNS shipper. How was your experience with Naruto fandom? Has it changed? It would be great if you could talk about it.

Hi! I hope you’re doing well too. I barely receive any asks, so I’m excited.

Ah, my experiences and anecdotes being in the fandom, especially as a SNS shipper (does it count as shipping if they’re canon?) … It’s more than half of my life (I feel like I’m talking to my grandchildren) so this could get long.

I’ve been part of the fandom for 17 years, but it’s just recently that I’ve gotten to interact more with other fans both pro and anti sns. This mainly for three reasons:

Time period

When I entered the fandom internet and social media weren’t what they are today (that’s how old I am). I barely had access to internet for school and quickly read the new manga chapter before having to disconnect.

Location

Younger people don’t realize this but the globalization of manga and anime are quite recent. Now you can find merchandise even at the supermarket and a great catalogue of series is at your disposal with minimal effort. And being an “otaku” in the 2000’s was begging to be bullied at least in my country, so I preferred to keep my interests to myself.

My personality

I’m not the most social of people.

Thus, in the beginning, the fandom was nonexistent to me. It was just me, what Kishi wrote and my thoughts.

Little by little I got to interact with other people who were mainly shônen fans, and never read outside of that demographic, so there was no chance they would recognize a “non-pure shônen” even if it hit them in the face. There was not much to discuss aside from who would beat who, and I wouldn’t have been able to articulate it back then anyway, but my guts knew there was something different about Naruto. More than met the eye.

I next met a different part of the fandom in the form of fanart and fanfiction, but at that time it never crossed my mind that people would cling to those non-canon portrayals with their life. I would say most of these fans are avid consumers from other demographics that got attracted because something (the romance or the potential gayness) caught their eye, but are only interested in how to bend the characters to fit their vision. I know fanfiction and fanart are supposed to be self-indulgent, I enjoy it and write it even, but I’ve mostly managed to separate from the real thing. Not many discussions about the story as a whole (please keep in mind we were all teenagers back then).

So, none of those previous fan groups seemed to understand what I couldn’t put into words, and for the longest time, because my understanding of Naruto and Sasuke’s story was mostly instinctual, I had to go along with it. I let myself be gaslighted into believing my thoughts were just a byproduct of my fujoshi tendencies (I guess it could be right to call me fujoshi, but never due to Naruto).

After a quite long break, not just from Naruto but from manga and anime in general, I came into contact with the more educated part of the fandom in tumblr, and I finally got to put into words what was behind Naruto and Sasuke’s dynamic thanks to all of the great analysis that I found. I got vindicated and felt like I could finally live in peace but it was short lived.

When I met all the crazy antis, oh boy, I understood why ignorance is bliss.

That being said, there are indeed a bunch of obstacles between the fandom and understanding the true significance of Naruto’s story. However, not all of them are due to lack of knowledge when it comes to narrative devices and storytelling tools. I’m far from proficient in that topic and I can confidently say I got it.

Discarding those who will perpetually live in denial due to bigotry, homophobia, lack of an open mind, cultural differences, etc, and after much pondering elicited by this post of yours, I’ve come to the conclusion that the shônen label holds way more power than I originally thought. Or better say, all that shônen represents functions as the most effective reality filter.

Because Naruto was labeled as shônen:

The dudebros who only care about the power escalation won’t understand even if they are not homophobic because they came for the blattles and cool powers, nothing else matters.

The lost shôjo readers who force nh and ss into focus and think they can bend the “romance” to cater to their taste because a shonen writer would drop the ball with something as delicate. “Let Kishimoto draw his battles, we will fix the deficient love story because we know how true romance it’s supposed to look like. We wouldn’t be interfering with the hero’s story, anyway.”

All the while ignoring they are dragging a bunch of toxic tropes with them. They don’t see their pairings as failures because shôjo also has its good share of toxicity and abuse.

The fujoshi and fundashi who despite coming after the gayness, still miss the point because they do not care about the story so long as two hot men are kissing or fucking or whatever. They don’t actually believe in sns because most of their pairings are ships for fun, anything can be shipped, (pencil-senpai and sharpener-kun) so they see Naruto as a love story only under their terms but never in canon.

Then we have people that read a wider range but fail to look at the story as anything else than one written for male teenagers. Got shôjo for romance seinen and josei for more maturity, so shônen is meant for an easy quick snack.

Some of my friends, that I consider very intelligent people, way more versed in storytelling and narrative and whatnot than me, who are definitely not bigots or homophobic, still miss the point because they weren’t looking for it. They realized only after I pointed it out (I even made a ppt presentation, but that’s another story).

As for the people who understand from the beginning:

There’s of course those with the knowledge to dissect the story, and who can consciously ignore the restrictions of the labels.

Yet another group (I consider myself part of this one) that manage to bypass the rules only guided by instinct, but kept second-guessing themselves until they met someone from the previous group.

Then there’s my mother, bless her, who watches anime and loves her romances, but knows shit about manga demographics and wonders how the fuck Naruto and Sasuke gave birth to Boruto because in her eyes that little piece of shit has to be their son.

So once again, it all comes back to Kishimoto and his decision sell his soul to Jump. Was it all for fame or money? Was he too hopeful and naïve? Was it all a cruel prank?

What happened to mangakas like Tezuka? That man knew no limits.

That’s it for my thoughts on and interactions with the fandom. I think I leave my evolution as a sns stan for later if you’re interested in it.

[bomberqueen17]

crabwise

I have been goddamned useless this week. I have a sort of schedule this summer where I"m at the farm three weeks and then home one, more or less, and in that one week I'm meant to get all my random shit done, but i have done none of the things I was supposed to this week and I'm going to be in trouble before the end of the month when I don't actually renew my driver's license or go to the dentist or eye doctor or any of those things. But. You know. Well.

I have spent much of this week listening to Patrick O'Brian audiobooks, which I had meant to save for car rides but they have these cliffhangers, see, and if I just-- so mostly i'm listening to them while sewing or cleaning but sometimes I'm just sitting there listening to them, which is a sinful waste of time. but. There is so little joy in this world let me have this.

This is why i don't read very much, incidentally; I am like an addict, and I only want to read and don't want to do anything else in my life, and I'd managed for a while to substitute writing for reading, which is equally absorbing but at least I can tell myself it's productive. Which is sort of a toxic way to consider it, but there it is.

Anyway I've made desultory progress on a bunch of shit this week but the one thing I *have* achieved is that I have assembled an entire novel treatment for a fanfiction literally nobody really needs, about Tom Pullings and the character variously referred to as either James or William Mowett depending which book you consult. (I think his name is really meant to be James and then he got slightly confused with William Babbington, the other midshipman.) Anyway I just think they're cute, and Tom Pullings is absolutely a black Lab, just 100% earnest, anxious, diffident shy morose guilt, except occasionally when someone offers to take him for a walk (or promote him), when he's just this radiant being, and on the occasions when he is allowed to pursue a groundhog (or, y'know, a ship action) when he is suffused with joyful, savage ferocity. But most of the time he is a little apologetic for existing and is anxiously trying to hold everything together at all times for everyone and blaming himself if it isn't perfect. And I want to chew on him like a squeak toy.

However I also used this to bribe myself into actually editing chapter 2 of Not A Crest, which is now actually perfectly postable, and I now know how to progress in that story, so perhaps I will actually have something to post at the end of this week. We'll see.

Hence the title of this post, I feel like I've been scuttling sideways by accident into any kind of forward progress in my life but at least I'm moving.

[puzzleemerald]

Please don't reblog!

I had to compress/scale down this beautiful piece so much in Clip Studio to make it fit Tumblr's 20 MB demands, hnnnnnng—

Coughs in complete absolute professionalism

The first of my OCs have officially had their links posted on my pinned Master Post! This is one of them: my beautiful, beloved, and tragic Inuyasha OC Amaterasu. This is a piece of art I commissioned earlier in 2023 from the lovely ItsNattie, from whom I've been commissioning art of many kinds for over a decade now! It's a massive poster-esque piece for Amaterasu's FanFic I've been slowly working on (it's one of uh... many... I have a draftaholic problem), and, if you hadn't guessed, she's a Sesshōmaru pairing!

That said, I consider an OC's FanFic version and their RP versions to be entirely separate for the sake of exploring ✨ infinite possibilities! ✨ So, while Amaterasu is paired with Sesshōmaru in her FanFiction, that doesn't mean I'll only allow Sesshōmaru RPers to exclusively pair with her romantically. I like to leave that up to vibes. If I feel like she's got chemistry with someone, you bet your zeros and ones I'm gonna ship it!

With that out of the way, allow me a moment to wax poetic about the weight and meaning behind this gorgeous piece of art to end the post.

Ahem.

TW: Death

Amaterasu is a character who, in essence, is supposed to be the sun goddess herself—the name isn't just for show. However, through the circumstances of her story, she's been sealed in a mortal body, and much of her power is diminished throughout the series. Like everyone else, she's out for Naraku's head. However, she ends up encountering Sesshōmaru. At first, they seem as if they'll kill each other. The reason is pretty straightforward. Sesshōmaru is an Inu Daiyōkai and the Lord of the West while Amaterasu is the Head Kami and Ruler of Takamagahara. Their very existences challenge each other and, by nature, they feel an instinctive loathing of the other.

However, due to their equally calm dispositions, instead of a fight, they have an interogation a conversation instead. Sesshōmaru questions who she is, and Amaterasu does the same. Jaken gives a fussy introduction on his Lord's behalf, and Amaterasu gives her name... before promptly telling them both to turn around so she can get out of the spring she was bathing in when Sesshōmaru sniffed out her divine aura.

They end up having several more encounters with each other, but Amaterasu has far more interactions with Inuyasha's party initially. At least until Rin comes into the picture. Then, she travels strictly with Sesshōmaru under the pretense of protecting Rin from him. Over time, the two become more tolerant of one another until they start checking over their shoulder to ensure the other is still there, using each other as a leaning post at night or entrusting the other with safeguarding Rin, Jaken, and A-Un when the other leaves for one reason or another. It borders that fine line of respect and affection; Sesshōmaru is aloof and apathetic, while Amaterasu unabashedly loves life and is compassionate. She learns through him that not all yōkai are out to kill humanity, and he finds a new warmth in life with her presence. Like winter in the face of spring, they need each other to complete a cycle or, in this case, each other. By "The Final Act," they are pressing their palms together to be sure the other is okay, staring each other in the eyes and covering each other in a fight.

However, I call Amaterasu a tragic OC for a reason. In the end, once Naraku is slain, Amaterasu's seal is undone, and her mortal body slowly breaks down. Without the seal, her power returns to her in total, and its too immense to be contained in such a shell. A kami of her magnitude cannot sustain a shape on the mortal plane. With what few hours they have left, she asks to return to the place they first met—the spring surrounded by sakura trees—which Sesshōmaru indulges. Flying her there in his arms with Rin and Jaken riding his mokomoko-sama. There, she has her farewells to each of them, praising Jaken's loyalty and courage despite his stature and weakness, telling Rin that she will watch her as she becomes a lady with the utmost warmth and character, and telling Sesshōmaru that he has changed her. That she can never be the same person she was before, but she wishes that she could, if only to relive it all. Because it was the happiest time of her life.

Under the shining sunrise, Amaterasu promises that, so long as their feelings remain unchanging, she will find a way to meet him there again. Every time he feels the sun's light and traces its beams, it will be her smiling and touching his hand, praying for him to live.

Finally, as her body crumbles into glowing flowers, they share a first and last kiss... until all that's touching his lips are cherry blossoms that fall through his arms to the ground of the clearing... blooming wildly with flowers and other foliage and surrounded by onlooking wildlife.

Thus, the feudal fairy tale of two tragic loves from completely opposite realms of existence concludes in the only way it ever could.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in June 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #51 |  ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🩷 Teach me how to love by @perfectdagger

(E, 70k, one night stand) The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

🩷 My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence

(NR, 35k, small town au) Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

🩷 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16

(E, 30k, songfic) It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

🩷 Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 29k, thief au) Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rogue ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

🩷 Every Lover's Got A Little Dagger In Their Hand by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 22k, enemies to lovers) Does the attraction between two complete opposites really exist, or is it just a myth?

🩷 It Will Always Be You by @phdmama

(E, 15k, older Larry) If you had told Louis Tomlinson a year ago that he would be celebrating his birthday by kissing the man who is the love of his life on a Church Street park bench in Burlington VT as the snow drifted softly down, he would have told you that you were extremely imaginative. 

🩷 You Light Up the Path by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 12k, mermaid au) Louis Tomlinson left his home in Doncaster as a young man with the intent of making enough money to send it back home to his family and support them however he could. Harry, or so he likes to be called, is the myth and legend himself known as the Staithes Mermaid. 

🩷 The Revelation by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 8k, cult au) Harry feels his edges start to unravel. He can’t find where he ends and where Louis begins.  Part 3 of The Risen

🩷 Lacy Little Secret by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(E, 6k, bachelor party) Harry learned a very valuable lesson that day: always check to make sure it’s the right car before getting in.

🩷 the embers are new by @nouies

(NR, 3k, fantasy) Louis is a dragon vet whose life is changed after a long trip.

🩷 DIY Orgasm by red_PANdaaa28 / @red-pandaaa

(E, 3k, Grindr) Harry takes artsy nudes, Louis receives one and they both get to come.

🩷 Next in Line by @jaerie

(E, 3k, a/b/o)  It wasn’t fair that nobody was doing anything about such behaviour. Harry couldn’t ban all alphas from his shows, but he could make omega only sections.

🩷 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt

(G, 3k, vampire au) Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one.

🩷 The Early Show by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 2k, uni radio show) The thing about Harry is that Louis has never been sure if he doesn’t like hybrids, or if he doesn’t like Louis. Either way, it’s unfortunate that they apparently are both equally late.

🩷 Ahead in the Count by @kingsofeverything

(E, 2k, baseball au) Louis’s been a catcher in the minor leagues for more than a decade and he’s never known a pitcher to touch his junk more often than he touches the baseball.

🩷 I Hear the Wind, It's Whispering My Name by Anonymous

(M, 2k, ghost fic) She’d also allowed herself to think of the woman every time she had a bit of me time over the next week. But then the woman had returned.

🩷 Imagination into Reality by @tommokat

(E, 1k, girl direction) It’s more than just physical, it’s years and years of attraction and pining and something that tastes like love. 

🩷 All This Time by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, flower shop au) Louis Tomlinson had been best friends with flower shop owner Gemma Styles for years. It wasn't until she suggested he date her alpha brother that he ever thought of Harry that way. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

—Rare Pairs—

🩷 Pageant Material by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 6k, Zayn/Louis) the Zouis teen beauty pageant AU.

🩷 Cool Kids Never Have The Time by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(T, 6k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn auditions to join a band and makes a bad first impression on their bassist.

🩷 you wanna be on top? by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 6k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn’s experience as a contestant on America’s Next Top Model left her more than a little traumatized. She thinks she knows what to expect when she lets herself be talked into making an appearance on the show a couple of years later. Louis manages to surprise her.

[xoxopandapanda]

Inukag Week 2023: Day 2: Possession

@inukag-week

Day 1  Day 2  Day 3  Day 4  Day 5  Day 6  Day 7

AO3

Fanfiction

It wasn’t until Kagome had met and spent a lot of time with Inuyasha that she realized how lucky she was growing up. Sure, she had known she had a good homelife, a loving family, and a future to look forward to.

Inuyasha had nothing but the clothes on his back and the chips on his shoulder.

The first time Inuyasha curled up and fell asleep on her bed, Kagome wanted to let him stay there forever. He seemed to just melt into the soft comforter, his face relaxing off the harshness that normally sat there. He seemed to just be a normal teenage boy in that moment, rather than the harsh and difficult half-demon he was when he was awake.

If Kagome could have given him that peace for the rest of his life, she would have in a heartbeat.

But as with everything, it came to an end that he was sleeping peacefully and quietly on that bed and the real world came knocking and demanded they return to the quest that engulfed their every moment.

The desire to give him everything didn’t disappear with the morning sun, however.

At some point, Inuyasha had become very comfortable with seizing anything and everything of hers and using to his own means. Sleeping bag? Now his for sitting on when camping outside until she made him get off for her to sleep. Books? A source of entertainment (sometimes kindling) for when he wanted to annoy her. Clothes? Those worked great for drying off or wiping sweat off his face, even if they were still on her body and he was just flat out rubbing his forehead on her. Shoes? Ah, perfect for throwing at the crows that gathered on Kaede’s roof. Fifty-fifty if he got them down without her having to ask him.

Kagome found herself specifically looking for things they could share. He had a favorite pair of chopsticks that once were hers, so she got another set. His long hair required softer elastic band on hair ties, so she got scrunchies and clips for them to use when bathing. He preferred open-mouth water bottles to straws, so she got rid of her original one to get a big one they could share.

There was a time when she would have been mortified at the thought of sharing every single thing in her life, but just like how Inuyasha had melded into her bed that night, they blended together.

What was hers was his, and vice versa.

It was so natural after a while, that not even having it pointed out to them would cause them to blush or deny it.

“Less to carry if we share more.” Kagome had said once to Kaede as Inuyasha chugged the entirety of the very large water jug. “It just makes sense.”

Shippo had all of his own things, so it perhaps didn’t actually make sense. She carried a special water bottle, utensils, pillow, soap, crayons, and just about anything else for the little boy. It was the same for Miroku and Sango, who each had their own designated items in her pack.

It was just Inuyasha that she shared everything with.

Soon physical possessions weren’t just the only thing the two teens shared. Inuyasha started to share her successes at school and joined in on studying with her, despite not finding much use for it. It helped her a lot to have another person to talk to, even if it was just grunting red clad boy who knew nothing about theoretical math.

Miroku had tried to help her study, and he was great for history and religious topics, however laying on her stomach next to a lounging half-demon seemed to be the best way for her to work through math equations.

Tapping his shoulder, Kagome commanded his attention to her homework. “Is that a three or eight?” The dim lighting from the fire prevented her from being able to fully make it out. She could if she scooted closer, but it was more convenient to take advantage of Inuyasha’s better eyesight. He drew an eight in the air with his finger.

“To the power of eight?!” Kagome collapsed onto her arm in exasperation. “How am I supposed to figure that out?”

“Write it out.” Inuyasha had no idea what a power of eight was, but he knew what he was supposed to say when the numbers came out. Mama Higurashi had taught him.

Sighing loudly, Kagome rearranged herself onto her elbows and started writing out the equation. Inuyasha felt a surge of pride at being helpful to her, even if he had no idea how it all worked. He didn’t quite get why she was so certain she needed school, but if it was important to her, it was important to him to.

After all, they shared everything.

Including hopes and dreams, he realized one day when in a heated spat with Miroku over Kagome. He had pressed about their future together, insinuating that they should just hurry up and get married. He and Sango had to wait after all, until the curse was lifted, but no such restrictions were on Kagome and Inuyasha.

Inuyasha had huffed and snarled out, “She wants to go to high school. It’s important to her to graduate.”

Miroku had a blank look cross his face. “What does that mean, exactly?” the monk asked.

Inuyasha felt a sense of embarrassment overcome him. He didn’t know exactly what it meant to graduate. “It means…” he scrambled for words. “…she’s finished her school.”

“What’s next for her?”

Inuyasha wanted to strangle the man walking alongside him to fetch water for Kaede. “She wants to finish school and…” his jaw worked hard as he processed if he wanted to tell Miroku what he knew or what. For some reason, the thought that it might deter further questions. “Have a career and raise dogs. Maybe get married but that’s not important to her.”

Miroku nodded as if he understood. Clearly, he did not. “What is a career?”

“Something you do until you’re old.” Souta’s basic explanation was all he knew of the topic.

“Like being a priestess?” Miroku’s eyes wandered over to look at Inuyasha’s profile. It was bright red.

Inuyasha huffed loudly. Miroku took that as a yes, so he continued to prod. “What’s this about dogs?”

“Dogs are her favorite animal and she wants to have a bunch when she’s older.” Inuyasha answered without thinking. “It’s not common to have a lot of dogs, but with the shrine grounds, she can, so she wants to rescue them from living on the street or bad homes.”

Miroku paused for a moment, calculating his next question. “Like how she rescued you?”

Inuyasha stopped walking suddenly, causing the monk to get just a few paces ahead. Miroku tried to gauge if he had gone a step too far. Inuyasha seemed frozen eyes straight ahead for what felt like forever, and Miroku was just about to tell Inuyasha to forget his comment and change topics when Inuyasha spoke.

“Yeah.”

Miroku finally turned his body to look at his friend and see a softness cross his features. He started walking again forward, quietly whispering, “Except this time, we’re going to do the rescuing together.”

Because, after all, they shared far more than just possessions.

[patchofgrey]

Head Cannons One-Shot:

Nejiten Headcannon explanations: part one Nejiten Fanfictions by me: ffdotnet | A03

Headcannons: There was no way Hiashi didn’t pick up on his nephew having a crush and Neji confided in Hinata about his feelings on Tenten. Tenten’s family has done business with the Hyugas for years prior to her birth.

She wasn’t a Hyuga, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed into the Hyuga estate. When they had become gennin, Team Gai was given the task to get to know each other on a personal level. For Tenten, the boys had met her older brother and parents. To the group’s surprise, Tenten’s mother was not from Konoha. Rather, her mother’s side was in the Land of Rivers, specifically Takumi Village. Both of her parents were shinobi, her father specializing in weaponry and even handled the family business of weapons crafting and trading. For Lee, his mother gave a very warm welcome, she was a civilian and loved her son very much. When Tenten and Neji visited their home, she was very quick to greet them with hugs and snacks. When it came to Neji, he had settled on only having his teammates interact with his step-mother. His father had remarried to a civilian after the sudden death of his mother, two years after Neji was born. His step-mother was a lovely woman and found Rock Lee in particular very interesting. When the prodigy had introduced her to Tenten, she immediately noticed the air surrounding her step-son and his female teammate; it made her smile.

 As the two of them became closer friends, Neji would handle business with his mother at the main estate and tell Tenten to meet him there so they could train or hang out afterwards. Shizukana Hyuga had mentioned to her brother in law the fascination she had with his female teammate; encouraging him to meet her. 

Tenten had already met Hiashi Hyuga as a child. Her father’s business extended to transactions with the Hyugas, however she was not formally introduced to the Lord. Whenever she would come to the estate with her father, she would give a very formal-yet quick greeting before being whisked away to be entertained by a Hyuga maid. One day, she got her chance to. Neji had informed his step-mother that he would be leaving the estate early in order to train for the chunnin exams with Tenten. Hiashi stopped him and told him to bring his teammate inside to formally meet him. When questioned, Hiashi simply stated that he was curious as to who this teammate was that he was always out training with. Begrudgingly, Neji complied. 

“Wait…what?” Tenten blinked. “Why now?”

Neji rolled his eyes. “I am not sure. Honestly, it was my mother’s idea.”

“But, Lord Hiashi knows my father. Why does he need to know me specifically?”

“Let’s just make this quick. I don’t want to be here longer than I am supposed to be.” the Hyuga groaned. “He loves to make my life difficult.”

Tenten pursed her lips together and followed her teammate into the estate. The Hyuga relatives looked at her in curiosity as she walked behind Neji, their stares obvious and heavy. Neji kept his gaze sharp as she noticed his relatives looking at her, sending a dirty look back at them which caused various reactions. When they had reached the main tea room, the Hyuga gennin let out a loud sigh and turned to her.

“It’ll be just a few minutes. Then, we leave.” he said flatly.

The bunhead nodded and whipped her palms on her navy pants. She was a bit nervous, mostly because she was in her shinobi gear and about to meet the head of the most prestigious families of the Land of Fire. Tenten wondered how her father felt when first meeting Lord Hiashi. Neji had only mentioned that his uncle was a pain to deal with and was doing nothing to handle the rift between the main and branch families. The bunhead would avoid provoking such subjects with him, but if he needed to vent, she would listen. Neji was grateful for that; being able to have someone to listen to him and share his thoughts with without judgment. 

The two stood before Lord Hiashi. The older Hyuga was sitting at the tea table with Neji’s step-mother and two younger Hyuga’s whom Tenten has not met before. One looked to be about her age and held a very soft expression as she looked at her. Hiashi’s eyebrows shot to his forehead upon seeing the bunhead.

“Uncle,” Neji cleared his throat. “This is my teammate, Tenten Hua.”

“Yes,” Hiashi mused. “Your father and I do business.”

Tenten bowed respectfully. Shizukana offered Tenten a sweet smile and gestured for them to join them for tea. Neji shook his head stating he wanted to get to training and didn’t want to spend more time here than necessary. Tenten pursed her lips together, surprised at how rude he was being. Yes, he thought poorly of the main branch, but he did not have to brush off his step mother. But even if he did, it took a very sharp side glance from Shizukana to get Neji’s eyes wide and his spine straight. After a second, he gestured to Tenten to sit first. The bunhead complied and sat awkwardly next to the honey-blonde civilian. 

“These are my daughters,” Hiashi gestured to the two young girls next to him. “Hinata is a year under you. And this is her younger sister Hanabi.”

Hinata smiled at the bunhead and nodded, having already been acquainted with the older kunoichi during the chunnin exams. Hanabi sat quietly, and only tilted her head at the guest before her. 

“Tenten-dear, how are your parents? I haven’t seen your mother in a while.” Shizukana asked after a moment.

“They’re well. My dad is in the Land of Rivers right now handling some business.” Tenten replied. “My mom is on a mission for the next week or so.”

Neji’s step-mother hummed and offered the younger girl any lodging or assistance if she needed it. 

“I’m sure my Neji wouldn’t mind if you stayed with us until they returned. You can take the spare bedroom, right dear?” Shizukana looked to her step son.

The prodigy glanced at his mother, but nodded hesitantly. Why would she offer? He thought. Tenten doesn’t need assistance. Tenten didn’t need to stay with them, she was fine on her own, especially since her brother was also home for the moment, getting over an injury. It was the bunhead’s way of nicely implying that she could handle herself and her brother. Hiashi hummed and sipped at his tea, listening as his sister in law prompted her step son into making sure that his teammate was well taken care of. What peaked his interest was that his nephew was just agreeing with his step mother and not firing back any sarcastic remarks. Instead, the Lord caught Neji half smiling as his teammate continued to converse with the blonde. 

“Tenten, you must visit us more! Stop by the house just to say hello with your mother sometime so I can listen to all your adventures. Neji only tells me some things, and I can never get any full details from him.” 

The Hua chuckled apprehensively; Neji’s step mom was quite the outgoing person and loved having the bunhead around for company. Her Hyuga teammate would always mention that Shizukana would ask about her, and invite her over ever since they had met.

“Mother, Tenten is a very busy person-”

“Yes, busy training with you. Which means that she has to put up with your various moods. Tell me, dear. Is my son driving you up the wall yet?”

“Mother, please-”

Tenten held her hands up. Neji had approached her to train for the exams. He was her friend and was happy to help. The prodigy was never rude or attempted to belittle her. In honesty, she was actually surprised that he had asked her specifically since her specialty was weaponry and taijutsu. 

“We make great partners,” the bunhead looked to her teammate. “Well, I think we do.”

Neji nodded without hesitation. His face softened as Tenten offered him a bright smile. Shizukana looked at her brother in law and gestured to the pair next to her. Hiashi was now seeing what she had mentioned to him; the softness in his face. His nephew had made a close friend. It was uncertain how much Tenten knew about the Hyuga clan, or what issues they had; his guess was that Neji had no problems talking to her about it. He watched as they chatted between each other, the bunhead showing how comfortable she was around his nephew. This teammate was bright, and made his nephew feel some level of comfort he has not seen before.

Since then, Tenten had been to the Hyuga estate a number of times since the chunnin exams. Neji had begun training formally under his uncle which left Tenten on her own. To remedy this, the Hyuga would invite her to the estate to spectate, or even partake in training with him if his uncle was caught up with his Hyuga duties. At this time, Neji and Hinata had also begun training under Hiashi. Tenten would sit and watch as Hiashi would instruct his daughter and nephew in their gentle fist drills. During their breaks, Neji would sit with her and his cousin and chat about anything and everything. Hiashi would watch as his nephew would smile and give the bunhead his undivided attention. At one point, Hiashi asked to see how the Hua would engage in training with the branch member. The Lord had conjured up some clones and observed as they worked together. Neji had shared more information than he thought to his female teammate; she was covering his byakugan’s blindspot. They had combined attacks and their flow was flexible as they attacked and defended against his clones. Tenten had perfect aim and his nephew was able to pick up on her change in motion almost instantly; they were a singular unit. When the clones had disappeared, the pair stood smiling at each other breathlessly. Hiashi had invited Tenten back to the estate the following morning.

Tenten watched as Neji and Hinata sparred. She hummed to herself and allowed for her fingers to rub against her scrolls, waiting to see if she would be joining in today. She didn’t notice the Hyuga lord had taken a spot next to her to watch. Neji’s speed was no match for Hinata as he quickly delivered his jabs. Her amber eyes were quick enough to track his movements with ease; the perks of training under Maito Gai was the ability to develop such a necessary skill. 

“You have brought your scrolls, today.” 

Her head snapped to the side and immediately bowed to the Hyuga Lord. “Yes, I wasn’t sure if I was training with Neji today or not…”

Hiashi offered a half smile as he watched the bunhead turn back to watch her teammate. The bunhead held her breath as Hinata’s body was flung backwards, Neji’s force was organic and held much power. Tenten felt a bit bad for Hinata since Neji was on a completely different level than her. She had formed a bit of a friendship with the Hyuga heiress, having been frequenting the Hyuga estate recently. Hinata was very sweet and very soft spoken. Tenten found her to be very cute and found her personality to be the opposite to Neji. And yet, Neji had adjusted his behavior which surprised Tenten; he was trying to be a protector for his cousin as demanded by his role as a branch member. He felt guilty for how he treated her and wanted to make things right. The bunhead was proud of her teammate for that, atoning in a way that only he could. 

“Let us finish for the morning, Hinata.” Neji announced.

The younger Hyuga nodded and they approached the Lord and the weapons specialist, sweaty and heavily breathing. Neji walked up to Tenten almost instantly, offering a small smile as they chatted quietly about his increase in speed.  Hiashi watched as the pair spoke to each other, each maintaining full eye contact and his nephew’s lips remaining in a content upwards curve. Hinata noticed this as well, and excused herself into the conversation.

“Will you be joining us today, Tenten?” she asked as wiped her face and neck with a towel.

“Well-”

“I asked her here,” Lord Hiashi cut in. “To take a look at the armory we have.”

Tenten’s eyes grew wide with excitement. She was not allowed into the armory as a young child while her father did business. The Lord gestured her to follow him, leaving the two Hyuga cousins. Neji watched as Tenten walked away with his uncle.

“Big Brother,” Hinata spoke softly. “Why are you staring at Tenten?”

Neji pursed his lips together and didn’t look at her. Instead, he sat himself on the wooden deck and reached for his water bottle. 

“Do you like her?” she asked.

“She is my best friend, Hinata. Of course I like her.” he replied flatly.

Hinata shook her head. That’s not what she meant and he knew it. They sat quietly for a moment before she turned to him and asked what he liked about her. Neji’s cheeks turned pink as he glanced at her. Tenten was always there for him even when he thought he didn’t need anyone. She was always cheering him on, and yet keeping him in check at the same time. The bunhead was trustworthy, and genuinely cared about him and what ran through his mind. In a way, Tenten was like a caretaker for himself and even Lee. He was a bit unsure how to pay her back for her kindness besides buying her things that she liked like sweets or something she would find interesting if he was sent on missions without her. 

“You are very kind to Tenten, brother.” Hinata hummed. 

“I have decided,” he looked at the sky. “To be responsible for her happiness.”

The Hyuga heiress looked at him with wide-eyes. He wanted to make sure that Tenten had no cloudy days and would be there for her just as she was for him. It was the least he could do. In a way, he supposed it was thanks to her that he was able to hold himself in such high regard, even after his defeat against Naruto. It took Naruto to make him open his eyes and see that he was in control of his own destiny. Part of him also knew that Tenten had been trying to tell him the same way over the years, and he was grateful for her doting on him as well as Naruto for (literally) knocking some sense into him. Neji let out a breath and peered into his water bottle. When Tenten had come to see him after his loss, the first thing he was greeted with was her smile; a smile he decided to take responsibility for keeping in her face. Seeing her happiness made his chest warm.

“Brother, it seems you really do care for Tenten.” Hinata mused. “Have you told her this?”

“Have you told Naruto that you’re madly in love with him yet?” he shot back looking directly into her matching ivory eyes.

Hinata’s face fell instantly into a deep red tint. She gave a yelp at his response with the obvious answer; no, she did not. Neji let out a laugh and shook his head. That was his answer as well. 

“Speaking of Tenten,” Neji’s eyebrows furrowed. “I do not understand why uncle keeps inviting her. What interest has he taken in her?”

“If I am going to guess,” Hinata replied, her blush calming down. “I think father is being nice because she is the daughter of his business partner…but also your friend.”

“It’s not his business to get into my personal relationships.” 

The Hyuga princess let out a chuckle at this, encouraging him to ask Lord HIashi himself when he got the chance if he were that curious. Tenten’s presence did not make him uneasy in the slightest, it was his uncle’s insistence of having her around that made him wonder if there was something he was trying to get out of it. Hinata didn’t think her father had any ill intentions, in fact she was also curious as to why her father had invited Tenten onto Hyuga grounds so often. She wouldn’t be surprised if her father also noticed Neji’s affections towards his teammate and was trying to figure out how to approach this situation.

When Tenten and Lord Hiashi returned, the bunhead was very excited to tell Neji about how lovely the assortment of weapons were and how she remembers her father crafting the majority of them himself. Seeing the finished product in storage was exciting for her. The Hyuga prodigy offered to walk Tenten home, as they were finished training for the morning and he knew she had other plans with her own family after lunch. The bunhead shrugged, accepting his offer and thanked Hiashi once more.

“Nephew, a word before you leave.” Hiashi said. “Hinata, why don’t you walk Tenten to the front gates for now.”

Hinata nodded and stood. She smiled at Tenten before doing just that. The Lord waited until the girls turned a corner before addressing his nephew.

“I have a question for you, Neji.” 

The prodigy cocked an eyebrow at his uncle. “Alright.”

“What kind of bond are you expecting to get out of your teammate?” the older Hyuga asked rather pointedly.

Neji hummed, unsure as to why he was asking him such a question. The Lord had taken the time to get to know the young lady, she had mentioned that she was rather close to Neji and that she would notice the effort he was putting into their friendship as well as the growth he had made. Hiashi found her affections to his nephew to be genuine and was curious as to how the prodigy felt about his current relationship with her.

“Uncle,” Neji’s cheeks sprouted a faint pink. “She is my best friend and my partner. Why are you inquiring about such a thing?”

“You care for her.” Hiashi hummed. “Your bond with her holds quite strong. Be careful with it, for it can be severed very easily, nephew. But, it can grow if you nurture it properly.”

Neji watched as his uncle gestured in the direction of where his cousin and teammate went before turning on his heel and walking away. The young Hyuga pondered on his uncle's words for a moment before making his way to the front gates where the girls were waiting.