#while many of the physical plots are different

[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: charles leclerc !!

DEAREST READER. hello there! while waiting for the two-week break to end, i needed a little f1 headcanon/scenario to heal me from the famine. anyway, here’s for the leclerc fans out there! it’s funny that i’m posting his first when i actually finished oscar’s first 😂 i hope you’ll enjoy~ for more drivers, you can see my masterlist at the end of the post !

CONTENT WARNINGS. no warnings. just a heads-up that i am an 18+ blog and i prefer only adults visit my profile page. if you’re a minor, you can still read this work since it’s sfw. so, i hope everyone out there is being honest with themselves. oh, probably my fucked up english grammar because why do i care it’s pure vibes !

WORD COUNT. 998 words (ugh, so close to 1k) !

I debated with this idea, but after some time, I decided that mutual pining suits Charles Leclerc better. There is so much potential for slow-burn and comedy. It’s the kind of story where there’s already an established sense of familiarity between you and Charles, one that has existed for as long as either of you can remember. But it has never crossed into anything as intimate as being ‘lovers’. Sure, both your groups of friends always comment about how the two of you argue like a married couple and suggest you should just make it official already, but you and Charles dodge these accusations as swiftly as an F1 driver dodging a collision course.

While you and Charles may eye-roll or stick your tongue out at the sight of each other, both of you secretly wish for something more. Yet, neither dares to make a move, fearing the loss of the bond binding you and him. The platonic relationship between you and him feels comfortable, and disrupting that would seem like the foolish move of the century. So, to preserve it, you’re quick to ignore your feelings, and he does the same. As a result, pent-up, endearing emotions often spill out in the form of silly banter and subtle jealousy. The sneaky glances across the room and the lame lies told when either of you got caught staring seem endless. This routine is no different to playing a song on repeat: it’s the only thing that you’re both fixated on, apparently. At this point, provoking each other just to see what kind of reaction the other can elicit can be considered a love language. You think he’s just being annoying as usual, while he thinks you’re unbearably nosy–and it doesn’t help that he has heard of the ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ meme and he has used it against you every single time you are about to start an argument with him.

Charles Leclerc, despite being a multiple Grand Prix winner and has earned himself many titles–The Prince of Ferrari, The King of Monza, The Sun of Maranello, The Predestined–he still can’t officially call himself ‘your boyfriend’. It’s pathetic and it pisses him off. Currently one of the best drivers on the F1 grid, he has placed himself among legendary rivals, and yet, he can’t seem to place himself on the same bed as yours. Although his fame attracts the attention of high-profile celebrities and influencers, Charles has his thoughts and eyes only on you, even when he is currently surrounded by them. You, on the other hand, love to torture yourself by watching him sitting and talking with glamorous models–or just pretty women in general. He says it’s an occupational hazard, but the way you see it–or rather, feel it–it is more of an emotional hazard to you. But you’re not just going to sit around and drink your sorrows away. No. You’re going to greet and chat with his driver friends … but him.

His eyes narrow dangerously whenever he sees you hanging out with another man, even with his fellow F1 driver friends. But he starts losing his cool when he sees one of them initiate physical contact with you. While you’re giving them your best smile and laughter, Charles is already plotting how to commit a massacre on the next circuit. When you notice that he’s beginning to space out, you decide to approach him, incoming snide remarks already up your sleeve to torment Ferrari’s golden boy.

‘So,’ you start, taking the long-awaited empty seat beside him, ‘is she going to be your next in-chi-dent? Or just another pit stop?’

‘What? I’m the most charming guy in the room. I can’t help if all the ladies want a piece of me.’

‘Oh, please.’ You roll your eyes, ‘you’re about as charming as a stalled-out engine on a race day.’ You add, taking a sip of your drink.

A grin spreads across Charles’ thin lips as he leans closer to you–his chin barely above your shoulder. ‘Is that so? Funny, because I thought I’m just like Ferrari–impossible to resist.’

You try to repress the blush that is beginning to creep up your cheeks by staring at him dead in the eyes. ‘Well, since you are a Ferrari, then I guess I’m the safety car. Always having to slow you down when you get too full of yourself.’

The slight shock on Charles’ face gives you immense satisfaction, and you don’t try to hide it. But he is also quick to gain composure.

‘Or maybe, you’re just the chequered flag I’ve been racing toward all along ...’ He said, but his words seem to trail off in the wind.

It catches you off guard, and you stare at him with a questioning look, only to see Charles’ green eyes gazing at you tenderly. Oh, you hate it so much when he looks at you like that.

‘Nice try.’ You quickly cover your raging emotions with a smirk. ‘But you’re still stuck in the pits.’

• ───────────────────────────•

[ SONGS FOR THIS TROPE: Taylor Swift – Dress ✦ Sabrina Carpenter – Nonsense ✦ Arctic Monkeys – I Wanna Be Yours ✦ Gracie Abrams – Feels Like ✦ Lana Del Rey – Say Yes To Heaven ✦ Ariana Grande — goodnight n go ]

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

[inwinterhell]

As a female athlete myself, I just want to quickly appreciate how George R.R Martin writes his women who fight. It’s never, “she wanted to be a warrior so she worked harder than everyone and eventually she could beat all the boys.” He actually gives his characters strengths and weaknesses—as well as cultural ties to fighting— and he makes these traits enhance the already existing plot lines these characters follow. The mental game is also always just as important, if not more, than the physical game, which I’ve found is true in sports and probably much more true in actual life-threatening situations.

Arya is a small child. She’s nine, she’s skinny; she would probably never excel at being a knight, so instead she learns a different type of fighting. She’ll never overpower anyone, but she can be quick and sneaky and use her left hand which most people don’t know how to fight against. Also, I would argue that Syrio’s teachings about “looking with your eyes” were far more important to her than the physical part of water dancing. Most of the time she isn’t using her skills to directly fight people, but to run away, to spy on people, to catch food and survive. Syrio is her friend, Needle is Jon Snow’s smile, etc. Arya learning how to use her stature to her advantage is part of a greater connection to her identity and the people who helped her.

Brienne is stronger than most men, but she faces constant misogyny because of that (which is all too realistic). She constantly faces internal battles with her own self-image and harassment wherever she goes. She gets taught to use men’s pride and anger to her advantage:

“Old Ser Goodwin was long in his grave, yet she could hear him whispering in her ear. Men will always underestimate you, he said, and their pride will make them want to vanquish you quickly, lest it be said that a woman tried them sorely. Let them spend their strength in furious attacks, whilst you conserve your own. Wait and watch, girl, wait and watch (AFFC Brienne 7)”

Finally, “no chance, and no choice” is her most memorable line for a reason. It’s not her martial prowess that makes her a great character; it’s her bravery and honor.

Cultural ties are also so important to the reasons many women in the series fight. Asha is Balon’s last remaining child when all her brothers are dead and gone. Of course she knows how to fight and sail. Her tension with Theon is less about her showing off and more about her proving how much she actually knows her people while he doesn’t (of course that isn’t Theon’s fault but that’s a whole other post). The Mormont women learned to fight because they historically had to fight off invaders; the Sand snakes’ skills show their connection to Oberyn, etc.

Anyway I just love how George uses fighting to enhance his characters’ personalities and not define them. None of them are physically or mentally infallible, and none are exempt from misogyny. They just learned to do something that empowers and protects them despite society’s expectations. George’s writing of women is definitely not perfect, but this is something I really appreciate.

[thesummerstorms]

I feel like there's a solid group of fans (in all fandoms) who forget that there ARE differences between fanfiction and traditional publishing.

Transformative work is great about allowing you to explore secondary POVs and characters who aren't the focus of a text.

But traditionally published books are by their nature more constrained in their format. The physical nature of books + the publishing system means they only have so many pages. And those pages need to serve the central narrative of a story.

It can be fun to puzzle out 'man but what about the implications of x'? or 'oh, I feel like there's a connection between A and B, that's fun to think about!' or 'okay, but from Character M's point of view this is so tragic, even though they literally only exist in three scenes'. That's why transformative work is transformative, and for me, it's the fun part of fandom!

But what that doesn't mean is that the author is being mean or cowardly for not exploring those things in the source text. An author's focus has to be ultimately on the story THEY want to tell, and what makes that narrative or those themes work.

They do not have the luxury of including every digression your brain might have fun exploring, and it doesn't make them bad authors if their narrative focus isn't the one you would have personally chosen.

"But such and such character was robbed! They only appeared in x scenes and then-"

Okay, but did the scenes they were in serve their purpose? Did we get a sense of how they meaningfully impacted other characters, the plot, or the themes while still having a sense of personhood?

You can critique whether or not an author was successful in using their characters for story purposes or whether they successfully communicated their underlying message or whether the author unintentionally/intentionally included a bias that weakens their writing.

But an author not chosing to spotlight your particular minor character favorite does not make them a "coward" or bad at their craft.

[bueckers]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

part two. a/n | hiii! new blog but not new to wbb or writing, i’m infact true to this! masterlist & blog introduction soon but i thought i’d get a fic out first (this is lowkey long but bare with me).

summary: in which the pleasure elicits a confession.

warning(s): smut with plot! fingering, fear of being caught, praising, pet names, scissoring, some angst at the end, angst at the end, idk paige is absolutely obsessed with you..

pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader

You hadn’t particularly expected yourself to get sexually involved with the star athlete of UConn, but it kinda just happened.

You’d met Paige Bueckers through Azzi Fudd during yours and hers junior year. Hitting it off with her and the team was no problem. You got along with everyone and it was one of the many qualities that could be admired, but Paige found a sense of comfort with you.

During the start of her recovery, she found it hard to go back to going out like she used to. But the one night she’d decided to make an appearance for the first time since tearing her ACL, she met you and it changed everything. You had morals that changed her perspective, a bright smile that lured her in, and confidence that wasn’t too cocky to be deemed unattractive. You were everything.

From hangouts with the group to study sessions and finally hanging out alone, you found yourselves entirely comfortable with one another. So much so that the team had gotten so used to seeing you together, that they asked where the other was when you were by yourself.

One night when Paige had decided to stay over at your dorm, you’d been wrapped up in a conversation about relationships and the complexity that came with them. You both had similar ideas just like you did on nearly everything. Paige not being able to really commit to anybody with her busy schedule, and you just simply not being into dating. It never went well for you. The last girl fucked up and if there was one thing you always got sick of, it was waiting for people to change.

An idea sparked your mind, and just like always, you spoke it. It was a suggestion that would possibly change your dynamic forever, but as Paige watched the words slip out of your mouth and your eyes dart between her lips and eyes; something you always did but it seemed different this time, she couldn’t say no. It felt like a bad idea. She really liked you and wasn’t sure where that would lead the two of you, but she would’ve taken any part of you she could get her hands on.

Now, a little less than a year later, it was safe to say your dynamic had changed. Completely. Paige was at the highest point in her career, her popularity only expanding just everyday. Your casual sex continued, but the more intimate you got, the more Paige found it hard to deny the feelings she felt for you. She distanced herself. You didn’t talk the way you used to and surely didn’t hangout the way you used to, because those hangouts always turned into more.

You missed Paige. You had her but you didn’t have her, and although you knew what your suggestion would bring, you still couldn’t pinpoint why she couldn’t open up to you anymore. Why she avoided conversing with you alone. It was an abrupt change from the comfortability she’d showed when everything first started, exploring each other in ways past imagination because that’s what the agreement was for. But everything changed so quickly, and Paige found more meaning in the words she whispered while reaching her high, more meaning in the flirty jokes, and more meaning in your lingering gazes. She over-analyzed everything, and it was fucking driving her crazy.

Nobody knew. You couldn’t even fix your lips to tell Azzi how you’d been hooking up with her best friend. You were sure everyone had an idea though; paige could hide a lot of things physically but the glint in her eyes when she looked at you was undeniable, and although KK and a few others had pointed it out jokingly, you two brushed it off like it was nothing.

Currently, you’d been sitting at a table with some of the team members at the bar. It had been getting late despite you only being on your second drink and not feeling a bit of it, engrossed in a conversation with Aubrey about all kinds of things. Sometimes you wished you were a lightweight.

A few minutes later, Paige slid onto the stool next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge her. You hadn’t talked to her in a little bit over a week, and finally decided that if she wanted to play the distant game, you would too. She seemed a little tipsy to you, her continuous movements you caught in the corner of your eye proving so. You could admit she looked good when she first walked in. She must’ve worn braids to practice or something because her wavy locks had been flowing over her broad shoulders, a look she knew you fell weak to.

Your attention averted at the sound of Azzi’s voice. “I’m heading out!” She announced loud enough for her friends to hear. They bid her with goodbyes as you began to gather your things, stopping at the feeling of Paige’s hand creeping up on your thigh. She turned to you, a look on your face that you could’ve mistakened for a slight pout.

“I wanna take you home,” was as all she said, and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. You understood her words, but found it hard to comprehend as her thumb began stroking the crease dangerously close to your center.

Regaining composure, you cleared your throat. “‘S okay. I rode with Az, she can take me home,” You replied almost sharply. You didn’t question her silence over the past week, not in the mood to cause a scene; just responded like everything was normal, yet one thing you could never hide was an attitude.

As you turned to get up, content with the few words exchanged, Paige twirled your stool back around to her with her opposite hand, stopping you. “I wanna take you home,” She stated again, her voice low but firm. You knew Azzi had been stalling as she waited for you, so as you locked eyes with Paige’s piercing blue hues, you knew what you had to do. What felt right but so wrong.

Averting your gaze, you whipped your head to Azzi’s direction, immediately catching her eye and jerking your head to the side slightly to indicate that Paige would be taking care of you (in more ways than one). She gave you a knowing look, causing you to roll your eyes and spin back around to Paige. She had her suspicions, but they weren’t confirmed so it didn’t matter.

As soon as you did so, Paige easily stepped down from the barstool, grabbing your hand so she could help you down, a bigger challenge for your height. “We’re heading out too,” She stated simply, and the crew eyed your exchange, little chuckles escaping their lips. The entire group had their conspiracies about you two, simply because they’d never seen Paige act like this around any other girl.

Saying your goodbyes, you hadn’t realized Paige’s hand still interlocked with yours as she looked around the bar, seemingly antsy and ready to go as you said goodbye to her teammates. As you dragged her out, she glanced down at your hands, quick to pull them apart and cover it up by reaching to slip her lanyard out of her pocket, the ringing of the keys interrupting the silence.

You only stared at her a second longer before sighing, licking your lips as you crossed your arms. Your position didn’t falter the entire way there, and the walk from the campus bar to Paige’s dorm felt like ages.

“Is there a reason for that lil’ attitude you got?” Paige chirped, the two of you barely making it through the door as she walked in before you, her back turned as she flung her keys to the counter. You scrunched your face up as you shut the door behind you, your arms finally uncrossed.

“What are you talking about?” You asked in fake oblivion. You were aware of the sharpness in your tone when you first replied to her. Your demeanor the whole walk here even.

Paige only chuckled, turning around swiftly as she leaned against the island. “Heard it there too,” she said, pointing out the way you’d responded. “I do something?”

It was your turn to chuckle, audibly shocked that she had the nerve to even ask such a thing. “How’d you decide that tonight was the perfect night to have sex with me again after ignoring me for a week?” You ask rhetorically, a smile on your face. You wanted to punch the stupid smirk off of hers. She was too cocky for her own good, and you knew your words would only ignite that trait.

“If you wanted me sooner you could’ve hit me up, you know this,” She replied, her arms now crossed over her chest as her tongue swarmed her mouth. She was amused.

You scoffed, walking closer as you spoke which was something you tended to do when you were upset. You got in people’s faces. “That’s not the point, Paige.” You stuttered out, looking for the right words. Only Paige could make your normally nimble-minded self stutter at such a comeback.

Her eyes scanned your face. “Then what is the point, ma?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden pet name. This girl knew you in and out and she was using it to her advantage. It hurt, but you blamed yourself.

You stopped in front of her, trying not to let her looks get the best of you as you bit down on your lip. “You’ve been distant,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze as you stared at the ground. You felt pathetic— something you’d only felt a few days out of the year. It was rare. “And I hate it.” You finally emphasized, peering up at Paige who seemed to have lost any of her previous confidence at your words.

Her lips were plump and parted as she stared at you. It was enough to know you’d noticed and that you cared, but she didn’t want to address it, she wanted to kiss you. In one swift motion, she dropped her arms to their respective places, like a default and they knew where to go: one gripping your waist like her life depended on it, and the other cupping your face like she was being handed something she was told to take care of.

Your body trembled as you softened underneath her, your lips automatically moving against hers as you used all your pent-up emotions to keep up with her. You’d forgotten all about your said attitude and the way Paige had totally dismissed the conversation, but right now, it was the last thing you cared about.

Her tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a whine from you at the quickness that made Paige’s knees buck. She loved to hear you. She loved any sound you made. You made her weak.

“Can never get e-fucking-nough of you,” she breathed out, the comment more to herself. It was words like these that made you question how casual your hooking up was. She got so poetic and warm in the world of sex with you, and you loved it. It didn’t matter if she was praising or belittling you because you would eat it up every damn time.

Your hands roam through the waves of her hair, finding a spot that you comfortably grip and tug, the motion causing Paige’s lips to part from yours as her head tilted back slightly. You brought your lips down to her jaw, peppering kisses down the line and to her neck as you held her by her hair, Paige smiling above you. It always started like this— a constant fight for dominance that Paige always won. It was why she’d been smiling so hard.

It didn’t take long for you to find that good spot of hers, her smile instantly becoming a face of pure satisfaction as you sucked a light hickey onto her neck within seconds. You never did that because you knew Paige would only have to cover it up, but it felt right.

As Paige’s hands hooked under your legs and hoisted you up, you yelped, following the gesture with a giggly laugh that Paige couldn’t help but crack a smile at. She missed you. “Tired of standing,” she mumbled, carrying you to her bedroom. During the short way there, your lips had found her face again, never getting enough of all of the places you could leave a wet, sensual peck.

Setting you down at the edge of the bed, Paige turned around so she could shut and lock the door. She slid her UConn sweatshirt off in the process, pivoting back to you as you sat there in all your glory, laid back on your elbows. Paige immediately got to work, pulling off your pants as she hovered over you, her bottom lip sitting snug in between her teeth.

Glancing up at her, you immediately wanted her closer as she took them off painfully slow, and as soon as she was done throwing them into a corner of her room, she didn’t have any time to fully turn her head before you were pulling her into you, kissing her eagerly for the second time that night.

Her hands roamed beneath your engulfed bodies as her mind already knew where everything was without having to look. If there was one thing she learned from having sex with you, it was your body. She knew it as if it were a topic she’d studied for hours. Her fingers glided over your clothed cunt, causing your body to squirm at the unexpected touch.

She smiled into the kiss at your reaction and the feeling of your wetness, her body falling next to you as she propped herself up with her elbow. She pushed the fabric to the side with two fingers, her lips continually moving against yours as she circled your clit. Without warning, she pushed her two middle fingers into you. You never needed much foreplay because of how wet you got so easily, but that was a gift only Paige received.

You instantly pulled away from the blonde at the feeling, your head glancing down to her moving fingers as your mouth fell agape. Paige’s hooded eyes stared at the side of your face as your head eventually settled back onto her leaned arm with a gasp. She licked her lips, looking at the way her fingers moved in and out of you so effortlessly. “Look, baby. Doin’ so good for me.” She praised, your moans sounding like music to her ears as your eyes fluttered shut.

Suddenly, she curled her fingers, eliciting a loud, pornographic moan from the depths of your throat. “I told you to look,” she stated firmly. You opened your eyes slowly but surely as Paige lifted her arm underneath you so your head was at an elevated angle to see the bottom half of your body, and you swore you would come simply at the sight and Paige’s strength that had been showcased from her holding you. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she cooed. Another praise. Paige never cursed, but when she got in bed with you, it was inevitable.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” you told her, and although your mind had been completely fucked out, you were still good at picking out the things Paige got weak about, which realistically would be everything, including when you called her baby.

Her breathing picked up, the room becoming hot. “Yeah? Can’t wait any longer?” Paige questioned, and you automatically shook your head through moans, turning to look at Paige who had her eyes locked on you. She took a snapshot of you with her eyes, a picture she would frame in the Louvre if given the chance.

“N-no. Can’t wai— fuck!” You came undone on Paige’s fingers with a loud groan as her pace quickened inside of you, your juices coating her fingers. She couldn’t revert her gaze from your glistening cunt and the way it reflected on her slender hands, getting an urge to taste you, yet she held off.

Your chest heaved as she slowed down, a noise being made as she slipped out of you. You laid back once more despite the fact that Paige’s arm must’ve fallen asleep by now, watching through half-shut eyes as her fingers came into view. She shoved them into your mouth, her lips parting as she tilted her head slightly and watched you lick your own slick.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, nearly drooling as you grabbed her hand with your own, pushing her digits further into your mouth. You indulged at your own pace, peering up at her, knowing the thrill it would give her. Your tongue slid between the two fingers, working its way to slurp everything off. Finally, Paige had enough.

She forced her fingers out of your mouth, sliding out with a pop because of how tight you’d wrapped around them. She got up and made her way around the bed, settling with her back against the headboard. You followed her there with a crawl, laying in between her slightly spread legs as you leaned into kiss her. As your lips moved, you felt the urge for more, pulling away abruptly. Catching your breath, Paige couldn’t control her own as she looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She breathed out, her hands still cupping your cheeks.

You looked down, your head moving in between her cupped hands. “Too many clothes.” You panted, prompting a smile from Paige who was quick to lift her hips up, your bottom halves crashing for a moment as she slipped her sweatpants off, throwing them off the side of the bed. You followed suit with your shirt, leaving you in a lacy, purple bra that made your tits look fucking phenomenal.

Paige leaned back against the headboard, taking in the sight as you sat up before her, teasingly running your hand up the strap of your bra while you looked down. You knew what you were doing, purple is Paige’s favorite color. Eventually, you brought both hands to the clasp in the back, finally glancing at Paige who seemed to be stuck in a daze. You smirked slightly, not tearing your eyes away from her as your tits fell from its holder, and Paige was ready to dive into you.

“C’mere.” Her voice was husk as she whispered for you to come closer, and you obeyed, crawling back to your previous position between her legs with a smirk. Thinking Paige was going to kiss you once more, you brought your lips closer to her, but she dipped her head to your collarbone, her mouth immediately getting to work as you moaned softly, bringing your hand up to play with her hair.

She began sucking, and you swore you started to feel dizzy. You glanced down at the pink-ish mark forming on your skin above the place she’d now been getting to work on, making you a bit confused in the mist of your heavy breathing before you glanced down at the spot on Paige’s neck that had now been a dark purple color. You didn’t think she’d noticed, but obliviously she had. Paige knew it wouldn’t be a good look to her friends, but she didn’t care. It was fair game and she couldn’t resist you.

She then moved down, beginning to fondle with your breasts. She massaged one with one hand, attaching her lips to the other, her tongue swarming your nipple. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered, bringing your hand around to tuck her hair behind her ear, getting a good sight of her. How pretty she looked beneath you like this was all you could think about.

A few moments later, she pulled her lips away, seemingly content with the work she’d done. She hastily pulled her boxers down afterwards, you following eagerly with your soaked panties, the same ones Paige hadn’t even bothered to pull down when fingering you. Just as the two of you tangled your legs together, your beating cunts an inch away from igniting the longing pleasure, the jingle of keys and distinct chatter interrupted the moment, making you whip your head around towards the door.

You could make out the voices of Amari and Ice, realizing they must’ve left a little bit after you and Paige. The walls were too thin for this.

Without notice, Paige pressed her bottom half into you, making you moan out. She was quick to cover your mouth before you could yourself, your eyebrows furrowing through pleasure and fear of being caught. “You know I love hearin’ you but you’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby, okay?” she whispered, making you nod. Although the chances of being caught were high because of the unlocked door, the warmth of Paige’s clit hitting yours over and over was enough to make you forget about all of that.

You moved against her in a way Paige thought was painfully slow, a bead of sweat already forming at the top of her head as you both couldn’t tear your eyes away from where your bodies interlocked. She brought you down to her face, peppering soft kisses to your lips as you could barely build up the strength to kiss her back, all of it going into the way you moved.

Through low curses and pants, you finally mustered the strength to move your hand to Paige’s cunt, her reaction resulting in her dropping the hand previously over your mouth, her bones feeble. “Shit, keep going,” Paige murmured, her words enough to make you speed up your motions. Your hips bucked back and forth on her, whining as you tried to get as much as friction as possible.

Paige’s hands shot down to your waist, gripping them as she admired the way her fingers molded into your skin. They trailed down to your ass, her head tilting to the side a bit so she could get a good view of the way you looked from behind. She couldn’t quite fathom how you looked good in every position.

Dazed and breathless, you both felt your high bubbling within you as you continuously moved, the sound and smell of sex filling the room. “Paige, I’mmm.. fu— almost..” you could barely get any words out, but the blonde could make out what you were trying to say as she pushed her hips up further, getting any resistance she could.

“I’m right with you, fuck,” Paige dragged her words out, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to hold off a little longer, but she physically couldn’t. Her stamina was a bit better than yours overall because she was an athlete, but tonight she wasn’t holding off.

You leaned down to rest your head in the nape of Paige’s neck, the slightly new angle pushing you both over the edge. You felt intoxicated as you came undone, Paige’s center never giving the throbbing a rest as she came right with you like she’d promised. “Sh-shit.” Paige’s voice had gotten high for the first time that night. “I love you so fuckin’ much, fuck.” Paige admitted, her words rushed out. You only panted, bringing your head up to rest against her forehead as your chests heaved and you both stopped moving. Paige opened her eyes at your touch, only being able to stare into your eyes for so long— caught in a different universe as your lips hovered over hers.

Still breathless, Paige managed to wrap her arms around you and set you down next to her, your wet, sweaty body hitting her sheets. Coming down from the sacred high and finally having room to think, you’d only just then comprehended what Paige had said, knitting your eyebrows slightly from next to her. You turned your head, realizing she had managed to hoist herself up and put her clothes back on, grabbing scattered pieces of clothing in the process. Your scattered pieces of clothing.

You propped yourself up on both elbows, her comforter covering your chest. You realized that if anyone were to walk in right now, there would be no hiding the fact that you’d indeed just fucked— your mascara smudged, your hair an absolute mess. You cleared your throat, indicating you were back in the right state of mind and Paige’s body shook. Her back was turned to you, but she could already feel the tension heavy in the room.

Paige had never, not once said those three words to you. And with the way she was acting, you could tell it wasn’t one of her heat-of-the-moment sayings. She’d meant it. “Paige—“ she cut you off before you could address it.

“You should go. It’s late.” Despite her attempts to shake you off, Paige knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t get the last word with you. She might’ve been too full of herself, but you were one quick-witted individual.

You chuckled from behind her, an attempt to hide the actual hurt in your tone. “You’re serious?” you asked, although you knew she was. Your eyes were widened and you couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing before literally kicking you out.

She turned around and effortlessly tossed your clothes onto the bed, the garments landing right in front of you. She didn’t have to say anything. You could fucking feel it. You didn’t have the energy to put up a fight or an argument because it simply did not seem like she cared enough for it. Her words would only hurt you more. You’d known and learned this girl through and through and you would’ve never thought she’d do such a thing. You normally stayed the night, took a shower together, or even just stayed in each other’s warmth until having to tend to something. But tonight, she’d dropped a bomb and resulted in acting like an asshole.

You had a slight frown on your face as you hastily gathered your things, your clothes sloppily thrown on your body like you were sneaking out from a one-night-stand. You tucked your hair behind your ears as you put your shoes on, ignoring the unreadable expression on Paige’s face as her eyes shot daggers into you. Why weren’t you saying anything back? Why weren’t you shouting the most cruel things in her face? She felt like she’d deserved some backlash for what she just did, yet you seemed more hurt and eager to get out of her room than angry.

Without a second glance at the blonde, you rushed out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind you which elicited a slight jump from Paige. Waltzing across the living room, you almost didn’t catch the widened eyes of Amari and Ice in the kitchen. You didn’t care that their speculations had been confirmed, because it was shut down now. Despite being the only girl Paige had been fucking for months on end, she treated you like just another fling tonight, and you were hurt. You were hurt because you loved her too and she didn’t care enough to say it again.

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 18/10/2024 Max Verstappen - Mutual Masturbation

Plot: You and Max too tired to actually do anything, decide that mutual masturbation is the way to go after a tricky race weekend.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, 18+ Minors DNI

You and Max were a very clingy couple, it was rarer to see you not at a race weekend than to see you at one. You were always there supporting Max and cheering him on, and for the most part you guys had loads of energy interacting with fans and being helpful to the team.

However triple-headers normally took it out of you both, especially ones where it was far travel in between and maybe some time zone difference.

But you always supported Max.

You were there though his highest highs and his lowest lows and that just so happened to be today. A very low low. It was Max worst performance in his career. There wasn’t great communication, the car didn’t feel right and Max had struggled the whole race, not moving up any places from his Qualifying Result of P11.

He’d gotten no points, and ended up behind Yuki Tsunoda who’d defended from him brilliantly for the entire race.

When Max came out, after driving the car for 2 hours and all of the media commitments and team jobs he had to conduct afterwards you both got on his private jet pretty done with the day.

You got home to Monaco, and you were both really silent which was kinda rare for Max. Despite what most people think this man can talk for hours, especially to you when you are such a good listening and love the sound of his husky and burnt sort of voice when he spoke both English and Dutch.

You guys had a routine that was never changed no matter how tired you guys were once you got back from a race weekend.

Step one: Get the cases into the house.

Step two Part A: Max separates clean from dirty into piles

Step two Part B: You take the shoes and toiletries and dish them out to where they need to go.

Step three Part A: Max puts a wash on

Step three Part B: You take the clean clothes up and hang them in the wardrobe or fold into draws.

Step four Part A: Max hoovers, Jimmy and Sassy, and then your British Shorthair Lila have all been there moulting in the summer heat.

Step four Part B: You wash out the cat bowls and place down new food

Step five: Make dinner together

And that was how you always did it. You always each took those chores and got on with them. Usually you spoke to each other across the apartment while you were doing it but this time a comfortable silence was with you apart from the cat interruptions every now and then.

After that you guys let the dishes in the sink before alternating showering and getting ready for bed. You both climbed into the fresh bed with the nice sheets rather than the hotel sheets that regardless of the hotel rating always seemed to make you feel kind of odd.

Usually at this stage Max would turn on a film before fucking you into the bed, you clutching into the pillow that your face is smushed against while he thrusts in and out of you deeply.

But tonight with how silent the pair of you were it was obvious neither of you had the energy to fully commit to that.

“Schatz…” he says softly and you look away from the film he’d just put on opposite you bed, a classic you’d watched many times that was sort of just background noise.

“Mmmmmm? What is it?” You smile at him kindly, pulling the quilt up around you some more.

“Well, I just thought that maybe we could relieve some tension” he says still just as softly, a quiet hint to his voice. You almost groan not having the energy to get in top and ride him, which usually happened after these race weekends as his legs, back and arms were physically just as tired as his mind was.

“Argh baby not tonight … I know usually I’m more energetic but I can’t tonight” you say looking at him with a guilty look and he turns away with a flushed and embarrassed look on his face.

“Oh- okay” he says nodding and tucking the cover over him.

You guys sit and watch the film, you lean into him his arm loosely coming behind you as you naturally pulls yourself in closer to him. After the day of silence it was nice just embracing one another in bed.

“Hey I’m sorry I just have no energy tonight it’s not you” you say reaching out to hold his hand that’s above the blanket but knock against something hard causing him to moan out.

You lightly pull the covers away seeing him rock solid underneath. He tries to pull the covers back up, but your grip is strong.

“Max baby why didn’t you say” you try to stifle your laugh.

“Because your not in the mood and we’re both too tired” he sighs pressing his legs together and trying to alleviate the growing need down low.

“How about something else baby, it won’t take up too much energy from either of us” you whisper helping him pull his boxers down seeing his whole dick spring up and slap his bear stomach. He moans as the cold air hits him and you use your hand going up and down.

“Ah ah ah” he moans.

“Now you take over baby” you say and he does taking himself in his hand. Your hand goes into your underwear teasing your clit the way you knew you liked. Your fingers rub against that nub and you moan.

“Fuck Max” you moan and look to your left to look at him only to see him already looking at you. His eyes travel from your eyes down to where your fingers enter your dripping wet core.

You reach out a hand as you hear the fapping sound that Max is making with his fist tightening around his length and going quicker the more you moan.

“So pretty Schatz, fuck lemme see pull them panties off” he groans and you do as your told pulling them off and chucking them to the end of the bed. You spread your legs show Max your fingers thrusting in and out, a scissoring motion as you feel the spongey wall. You free hand reaches out gripping Max thighs as your mouth drops open, you repeating his name as you can feel the coil build up further and further.

His free hand reaches down and starts to rub circles on your clit as he tightens his grip on his own dick going faster than before.

“Fuck Schatz, such a good idea” he moans as before you know it he’s cumming, the stream hitting his lower stomach as his hips lightly lurch up. You cum shortly after him, the release making you relax back into the pillows.

“I think that should be our new go too” he groans, taking tissue from the bedside table cleaning himself up.

“When we’re tired?” You ask with a nod.

“Whenever, that was really hot” he smiles before pulling you into a kiss.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Villains vs. Antagonists (Guide For Writers)

Hey there, fellow writers and wonderful members of the writeblr community! 📚✍️ It's Rin here and...

Today, we're diving into a topic that's close to many writers' hearts: villains and antagonists. These characters often steal the show, driving our plots forward and giving our heroes something to push against. But here's the thing – while these terms are often used interchangeably, they're not quite the same. So, let's unpack this, shall we?

First things first, let's break down the difference between a villain and an antagonist. It's a distinction that can really elevate your storytelling game!

An antagonist is simply a character (or force) that opposes your protagonist. They're the obstacle, the challenge, the thing standing in the way of your main character achieving their goal. Here's the kicker: an antagonist doesn't have to be evil. They could be a rival love interest, a stern parent, or even nature itself.

A villain, on the other hand, is a specific type of antagonist. They're the bad guy, the evildoer, the character with malicious intent. All villains are antagonists, but not all antagonists are villains. Mind-blowing, right?

Let's look at some examples to make this clearer:

In "Romeo and Juliet," the feuding families are antagonists, but they're not villains. They oppose the protagonists' desire to be together, but they're not evil.

In "Harry Potter," Voldemort is both an antagonist and a villain. He opposes Harry (making him an antagonist) and he's also evil (making him a villain).

In "Cast Away," the island and the challenges of survival are the antagonists. There's no villain in sight!

Now that we've got that sorted, let's dive deeper into how to create these characters and use them effectively in your writing.

Creating Antagonists:

Define their opposition: What specifically does your antagonist do to oppose your protagonist? This could be physical, emotional, or ideological opposition.

Give them a reason: Why are they standing in your protagonist's way? Even if it's not justified, there should be a reason that makes sense to the antagonist.

Make them strong: Your antagonist should be a worthy opponent. They need to pose a real challenge to your protagonist to keep things interesting.

Consider their perspective: Remember, your antagonist is the hero of their own story. Try writing a scene from their point of view to understand them better.

Create contrast: Your antagonist should in some way contrast with your protagonist. This could be in values, methods, or personality.

Creating Villains:

Establish their evil: What makes your villain "bad"? Is it their actions, their beliefs, or both?

Develop their backstory: How did they become evil? A compelling villain often has a tragic or twisted history.

Give them dimensions: Pure evil can be boring. Give your villain some complexity – maybe they love their cat or have a soft spot for classical music.

Create a strong motivation: What drives your villain? Greed? Revenge? A twisted sense of justice? The stronger and more relatable the motivation, the more compelling your villain will be.

Make them smart: Your villain should be clever enough to pose a real threat. They should be able to anticipate and counter your protagonist's moves.

Now, let's talk about how to use these characters in different genres. Because let's face it, a villain in a romance novel is going to look very different from one in a fantasy epic!

In Romance: Antagonists in romance are often rivals for the affection of the love interest, or perhaps societal norms or family expectations standing in the way of true love. Villains are less common, but when they appear, they might be abusive exes or manipulative friends trying to sabotage the relationship.

Tip: In romance, make sure your antagonist's motivations are clear and relatable. We should understand why they're opposing the main relationship, even if we don't agree with their methods.

In Fantasy: Fantasy is ripe for both antagonists and villains. You might have a Dark Lord seeking to conquer the world (classic villain) or a rival magic user competing for the same goal as your protagonist (antagonist).

Tip: In fantasy, world-building is key. Make sure your antagonist or villain fits logically into the world you've created. Their powers, motivations, and methods should all make sense within the rules of your fantasy realm.

In Mystery/Thriller: In these genres, your antagonist is often the perpetrator of the crime your protagonist is trying to solve. They might not be evil (maybe they committed a crime of passion), or they could be a full-fledged villain if their crimes are particularly heinous.

Tip: In mysteries, your antagonist needs to be clever enough to challenge your detective protagonist. Leave subtle clues about their identity or motives, but make sure they're smart enough to almost get away with it.

In Literary Fiction: Here, antagonists are often more abstract. They might be societal expectations, personal flaws, or even time itself. Villains in the traditional sense are less common, but morally grey characters who oppose the protagonist are frequent.

Tip: In literary fiction, focus on the nuances of your antagonist. They should be as complex and flawed as your protagonist, with their own rich inner life.

In Sci-Fi: Science fiction offers a wide range of possibilities for antagonists and villains. You might have alien invaders, oppressive governments, or even well-meaning scientists whose creations have gone awry.

Tip: In sci-fi, make sure your antagonist or villain is consistent with the technological and social aspects of your imagined world. Their methods and motivations should make sense within the context of your sci-fi setting.

Now, let's dive into some tips to make your antagonists and villains the best they can be in your novel:

Make them believable: Whether you're writing a mustache-twirling villain or a morally grey antagonist, their actions and motivations should make sense within the context of your story and their character.

Give them a personal connection to the protagonist: The conflict becomes much more engaging when it's personal. Maybe your antagonist and protagonist used to be friends, or they're fighting over the same goal.

Show their impact: Don't just tell us your antagonist is a threat – show us the consequences of their actions. Let us see how they affect your protagonist and the world of your story.

Give them wins: Your antagonist or villain should have some successes along the way. If they're always failing, they won't seem like a credible threat.

Humanize them: Even if you're writing a truly evil villain, give them some humanizing traits. Maybe they have a pet they dote on, or a tragic backstory that explains (but doesn't excuse) their actions.

Make them adaptable: A good antagonist doesn't stick to one plan. When the protagonist foils them, they should be able to come up with new strategies.

Give them their own character arc: Your antagonist or villain should grow and change throughout the story, just like your protagonist does.

Use them to highlight your protagonist's strengths and weaknesses: Your antagonist should challenge your protagonist in ways that force them to grow and change.

Consider their presentation: How do other characters react to your antagonist? How do they present themselves to the world versus who they really are?

Don't forget about henchmen: If you're writing a villain, consider giving them some underlings. This can add depth to their character and provide more challenges for your protagonist.

Remember, whether you're crafting a dastardly villain or a complex antagonist, these characters are crucial to your story. They're the ones who push your protagonist to grow, who raise the stakes, and who often drive the plot forward.

But here's a gentle reminder: while it's important to make your antagonists and villains compelling, be mindful of the impact your writing might have. If you're dealing with heavy themes or traumatic events, handle them with care and sensitivity.

Now, I know we've covered a lot of ground here, and you might be feeling a bit overwhelmed. That's okay! Writing complex characters is a skill that develops over time. Don't be afraid to experiment, to try different approaches, and to revise and refine your antagonists and villains as you go.

One exercise I find helpful is to write a short story from your antagonist's or villain's point of view. This can help you understand their motivations better and ensure they feel like real, three-dimensional characters.

Another tip: watch movies or read books in your genre and pay special attention to how they handle antagonists and villains. What works well? What doesn't? How can you apply these lessons to your own writing?

Remember, there's no one "right" way to create these characters. What matters is that they serve your story and engage your readers. Trust your instincts, and don't be afraid to push boundaries or subvert expectations.

As you work on your antagonists and villains, keep in mind that they're not just there to make life difficult for your protagonist. They're an integral part of your story's ecosystem. They shape the plot, influence character development, and often reflect themes or ideas you're exploring in your work.

And remember, writing is a journey. Your first draft of an antagonist or villain might not be perfect, and that's okay. The beauty of writing is in the revision, in the gradual sculpting of characters until they leap off the page.

Lastly, don't forget to have fun with it! Creating antagonists and villains can be some of the most enjoyable parts of writing. Let your imagination run wild, explore the darker sides of human nature, and see where your characters take you.

I hope this deep dive into antagonists and villains has been helpful and inspiring. Remember, you've got this! Your unique voice and perspective will bring these characters to life in ways no one else can.

Happy writing! 📝💖 - Rin. T

Before you go, why not join us at The Write Right Society? We're a supportive Tumblr community where writers lift each other up. Whether you're a newbie or a pro, we'd love to have you! Share your work, get feedback, and connect with fellow wordsmiths, writers and aspiring authors. 

[elbiotipo]

also, while we are at it

"my dragon flies because it's magic xdxddxdxd"

fine, acceptable, it's magic. Okay. Even as a biologist I'm willing to give it a pass. God knows that in my space opera project I've went "mumble mumble convergent evolution mumble" for some of my earth-like aliens. The shape is kinda believeable and original, you chose some cool features, it's fine, no need for the whole phylogenetic tree.

Now, why is it magic? what does it mean it is magic?

Were dragons created by a god? are they manifestations of nature? why are dragons, especifically, magic and not say, crocodiles?

Is it a species with physical presence and a life cycle, or are they magical beings? how many dragons are there, how important they are to your world? are they worshipped, feared, venerated, just some kind of weird megafauna but otherwise unremarkable? what do they eat, how much?

If it's a sentient dragon from a physical species, as most modern fiction seems to assume (you'd be surprised that in most medieval works they were mostly mindless beasts or demons, dragons as noble creatures are very much a modern invention in the West) how do they think? How do they act differently from smaller, less powerful, shorter lived species? Do they have their own gods, their own rituals, their own beliefs? Are they lonely beings or are they able, or interested, to form part of society, or even have their own societies?

What's the cultural role of a dragon in the world you're making? What do your characters think when they hear the word 'dragon'? What do they know about dragons, when your hero goes and finds one, what are their conceptions of it? Can they fight it? How? Why?

Notice that most of my questions aren't stupid UNREALISTIC! CINEMASINS DING!, but things that actually affect your characters, setting and plot. Don't like to write a ethnographical paper about dragons? do it anyways or I'll shoot you, don't, but if you're introducing an element to your story, even if you're using stock fantasy elements like dragons, you will benefit A LOT from thinking how they fit into your story.

And even in settings were "it's magic" is acceptable as an answer, or more *surreal* or comedic stories where things happen without too much logic, a dragon is still a symbol. What does your dragon mean in your story? "oh, a magical dragon". Fine. Why is there a dragon on your story? Don't have a whole herpetology paper, because this is just a romance? Okay, can you spare me a couple lines to tell me what does a dragon mean in your world? That too, is yuri worldbuilding.

[zipquips]

i've also totally lost the plot on going to bed on time

god it's only day two of class and i feel so so so so very behind

[lineli225]

Tomura Shigaraki 's abuse and neglect under All for One

I've decided to make this post due to the fact AFO's abuse towards Tomura is often ignored and even denied, so I'll be bringing a collection of scenes that prove he was being severally neglected during the 15 years he lived with AFO

1- Malnourishment and Underweight

At the beginning of the story Tomura used to be very skinny, his spine visible, very accentuated collar bones.

We can't see if his ribcages are exposed too since he's always dressed, but we can tell he is abnormally skinny and thin.

Some theorize AFO's purposefully keeps him in this state so he's more weak and frail similar to Yoichi. Or so it adds to his tiredness and numbness.

He's also been shown randomly struggling before (it could've been the aftershock of Stain attack, i don't know)

2- Lack of hygiene

He literally lives in pure filth, trash bags, old soda cans, paper, boxes, packages of food that seems ordered other than homemade, it lingers all over his floor, he is clearly a hoarder

It's completely different of the kept and clean bar, and now before you say "That's Tomura's responsibility, he's an adult he should clean it himself!" just think for a minute, if you had a son, that you see as your heir, and bets on their future so much,If you truly cared about them and saw they felt into a hoarder mindset, wouldn't you at least help?

Why not even Kurogiri cleans if Tomura was being cared by him? This clearly is intentional neglect, specially to keep his mood constantly down.

3 - His teeth

Tomura canonically has crooked teeth (compare his teeth to the other's in the jump festa art), cavities or at least what looks like plaques or dirt all over his teeth.

For someone raised by someone as filthy rich as AFO, he should've had access to dental care

4- Shaggy hair

His hair looks un-brushed, shaggy and dirty, which had no reason for before MVA when he became homeless, so why even at the start? How long has he taken a bath or a shower?

Look at the blatant difference in this scene after he showered at the PLF mansion

5- Unkept, ragged and broken nails

despite his hands also being very skinny, his nails are also all rough and broken Now, I know Tomura isn't a kid to have someone cut his nails for him, but this implies he was never teached how to take care for himself.

Besides of course his clear symptoms of depression and suicidal idealism, which, are very obvious, All for One IS neglecting Tomura by keeping him in that state /knowing/ he isn't being capable of taking care of himself.

6- His bedroom

First of all: No windows

Second, notice how empty it used to be, he had nothing but a bed and a desk, but right as he committed his first murder he started to receive toys, AFO is lovebombing and manipulating him to kill more

7- The obvious neglect to his pain

Notice how every time Tomura panics or is even wounded, he is just ignored and left on the floor bleeding out, puking or writhing.

Which uh- it isn't normal to watch your kid writhe in the floor while smiling and monologuing

8- 24/7 Surveillance and lack of privacy

There are cameras everywhere, AFO spends most of the time watching Tomura, even in his own bedroom, and even talks to him, Tomura probably hasn't had any privacy ever since he was 5

Which is a sign of abuse and control

His entire childhood from 5 to 20 is often relatable for people who grew in cult like environments, and homeschooled children who grew under controlling parents, despite the abuse not being as "obvious" since AFO never directly physically hurt him, the neglect and psychological torture is still there, that and more all the manipulation, gaslighting and grooming (think of Mother Gothel from Tangled as an example of this type of abuser)

By the way, talking about it

9- Gaslighting

"but wasn't /you/ who desired my power?"

The entire body possession plot is a clear evidence AFO never saw Tomura as anything other than a toy to play with, the same way he saw Yoichi, but so many people say the possession was a retcon because "early afo cleared saw him as his heir, he even said it's all for him!"

Well, argue with the literal "he's the next me", while he is.... weirdly caressing the screen while he watches his kid with no privacy- 100% creep behavior

10- AFO's bizzare behavior towards Tomura

The way All for One's hands are often shown caressing him or encasing him somehow, which yeah, it's part of the symbology of Tomura's character (hands that can both hurt and save)

But knowing AFO represents /hurt/ and, you know, i'ts kinda weird to caress the kid you kidnaped off the streets like that-

Cuz yes! Picking kids from the street even if they are orphan is illegal!! You should take them to a police station instead :D

Tomura was KIDNAPED by AFO, not saved.

11- Proof Tomura doesn't /feel/ saved

During his fight against Bakugou, when he sees him being helped, besides being "broken" he starts to spiral on "why no one saved me even before i was broken?"

The visual including the granny that ignored him on the streets

AFO broke him.

He recurrently thinks back to when he was on the streets, even though he was already traumatized, and had already killed his family, he still had /hope/ he ADMITS he believes he could've been different if it wasn't for AFO

If AFO had truly saved him,he wouldn't think like this

12- AFO gifting Tomura the corpses of his family to intentionally keep him nauseated, uncomfortable and traumatized, so he never heals

Besides their weird placements- On a kid. the gangster's hands being in his chest...

13-AFO's intentional desire for Tomura's discomfort

If this entire thread didn't make it obvious already, All for One benefits of Tomura's tiredness, ill feelings, nausea, depression and suicidal mindset, and over all physical and psychological discomfort

This ensures he's submissive to his manipulations and orders, keep him feeling hatred and anger due to constant overwhelming feelings and makes it harder for him to think of why AFO does all of it at all.

I could go even deeper than this about it, but i've reached thread limit and am lazy, so I hope you enjoyed this thread!

Thank you for reading

[zara-renata]

How you learned to stop worrying and embrace Sylus Qin | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary: Sylus reveals his latest little plot and makes you an offer that you ultimately can't refuse. More lying around talking in different beds with Sylus Qin.

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV We've moved past the enemies part of enemies to friends to lovers, now we're into slow-burn friends-to-lovers territory This story contains: as the summary says, lying around and talking in a bed, and then not on a bed, boundary crossing typical of Sylus, which means you ultimately consent but he still should have talked to you first, but in his defense he pulled this bullshit before your Q&A with him, an mc with self esteem issues, sexual tension, profanity, mentions of being physically and mentally unwell.

As you lie on your side with Sylus in his sprawling, unlikely greenhouse, feeling his heart beating steadily under your hand and his soft breath against your chest, you’re tempted to stay like this for as long as he'll allow. To just call in sick and rest here until he gets bored and kicks you out. In this pocket of space-time that is just yours, shared with the person who is quickly becoming your most favorite creature in the universe. But you’re responsible. And needed. You can’t leave your team in a lurch, especially if Xavier is still away on one of his secretive little forays to who-knows-where, doing who-knows-what.

You sigh and can’t help yourself as you lean in a little and breathe in the scent of Sylus’s soft hair. Warmth, and that faint undercurrent of oranges that you now know comes from his shower products. Bright and tart. Just like him.

“You can use my shampoo, if you like it so much,” he murmurs, shifting a little until his cheek is resting against your chest over your heart. His stubble is a cat’s tongue along your skin above the edge of your tank top.

“How generous,” you smile, hating the idea that you need to get up and somehow get home. You have no idea what time it is, or even what day it is at this point. You think Sunday, maybe?

“Why so surprised? You should know at least that much about me, by now,” he grumbles.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. How could I forget, with your insistence on sharing so many things with me, even if such things were unasked for, or even dare I say, unwanted.”

“I like to anticipate your needs,” he says smugly. “And sometimes you don’t even know what you want until it's given it to you.”

“Yes, like blood in my foyer, feathers in my bed, and intense embarrassment during your business meetings.”

He lifts his head and looks up into your face. “What about an earring that you stopped wearing?” he asks, eyes shifting to the now empty piercing in the same ear in which you wore his ruby for a little while, before you thought he was dreaming about someone else.

You hate thinking about it, now. You had changed his name in your phone, and taken the ruby stud out of your ear and left it hidden in a bathroom drawer. It seems so silly, and petty now. A sad little attempt at controlling something in your life, when you couldn’t control your feelings, or his. As if by removing evidence of his gift, you could remove the sting of rejection. You don’t know how to answer him, because you don’t want to explain why you stopped wearing it. It doesn’t matter now. Now he’s your friend, and he has promised not to hurt you again in the ways that matter. So what, if he has romantic feelings for someone else? Him, here with you now—that’s enough for you, for now.

“And the pistol I engraved for you. You were strapped with it tonight, but you haven’t used it since I gave it to you.”

This, you don’t want to talk about either. The gun he gave you is beautiful. But you still can’t stand the sound of a gunshot so loud in your ears. It’s also probably illegal, and not something you can use during your official hunter duties if it’s unregistered or modified against regulations. You look away, letting your gaze wander to the plants spreading beyond the tiled clearing where you lie in the swinging garden bed, as if in some fairy tale or cheesy romance novel.

“How do you get all these plants to grow, since the N109 Zone doesn’t experience sunlight? The torches along the paths can’t be enough to sustain this much vegetation,” you ask, hoping he’ll let his current line of questioning die.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his stare on your face. “When I’m not here, there are grow lamps programmed to activate in an imitation of the day-night cycle of the natural habitat of the plants in this part of the greenhouse. I deactivate the system when I come in here, because the lights… are not pleasant for me.” He pauses and squeezes your hand. “There are smaller partitions within the main greenhouse to accommodate the plants that can’t handle the level of light, heat and humidity out here. Spend some time exploring, if you’re curious about this area of the base.”

You wonder if you’ll have the time anytime soon, to come back and take him up on his offer. Now that you know—to a certain extent—what was going on in his head during the first few days you spent in his base, and now that he has promised that he won’t ever pull that bullshit again, you are willing to try to see if you can be in his house without being on the verge of a heart attack. It’s only fair, if you’re going to be friends, that you visit him instead of him always having to come into Linkon City, with its bright sunshine and his wanted posters plastered in every administrative building. Even if they don’t feature his stupidly handsome face. Maybe spending time here, in this place that is so different from the rest of the sprawling house, would be a good start. But you have no idea when you’ll be able to make it back here again.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer, someday.” You fall quiet, and the only sounds are the water rippling from the soft flow of the fountain and the call of birds high up in the foliage.

Just as you think you’ve successfully derailed Sylus’s line of questioning, he picks it up again. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, you can just say so.” He sits up on his elbow so that he can lean over you and your hand falls away from his heart, but it’s still shackled to his wrist by the evol linkage. His hand falls with yours. “But if you’d like to tell me, and just don’t know how to say the words, we can play a game.”

You tense. “What kind of game?”

“The kind where I ask you specific questions, and if I ask them in a way that makes you feel like you can answer, then I win.”

“And what do you win?” You’re intrigued, despite yourself. You notice the tie keeping his dark, silk pants tied around his waist has loosened a little. Without thinking, you reach out and gently pull one of the ends between your fingers, just to have something to do with your hand. Your knuckles brush against his firm abdomen, and the soft silver hair there. His muscles underneath your touch shudder and contract as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“As enjoyable as that might be, that’s not what I want to win from this game,” he says softly, covering your hand in his and guiding it away from the waistband of his pants.

Realizing what it just looked like you were implying, you try to jerk your hand out of his like it’s on fire, but he holds it tightly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, that’s not what I—”

“I’m not interested in hearing apologies from you.” His eyes search yours. “Ever.”

All you can do is stare at him, because once again, you feel like he’s trying to tell you something in code and you just don’t have the key to decipher it. “But what if I do something that hurts you?”

“You will never be able to hurt me in a way that warrants an apology.” You open your mouth to protest, but he continues. “If you’re that worried about it, let’s make a deal. If I ever want to hear you say sorry, I’ll ask you for it.”

You feel like he just steamrolled you and normally you'd keep bickering with him, but you honestly do not have the capacity to spar with him on this point tonight. So you just nod.

He deigns to accept your agreement with a little haughty sniff, as if he can’t believe he had to review with you how invincible he is to anything you could do to him. “And to answer your original question, I win your honest answer,” he says, running his thumb along the back of your hand—you’re starting to wonder if such contact is to soothe you, or himself. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, still embarrassed despite his reassurance and trying to remember what the hell you were even talking about before you groped his clothing. “And if you don’t manage to ask the right questions?”

“Then you don’t have to answer, and can keep your secrets until you’re ready to play again.”

“This is not a very interesting game for you,” you groan, rolling away from him, but he keeps hold of your hand, so your arm is now pulled awkwardly behind you as you face away from him. He can keep the damn thing.

“That’s rather bold of you, kitten. Even you don’t get to decide what’s interesting to me.”

You look over your shoulder at him and scowl.

“Oh, I’ll keep going to keep that look on your face,” he taunts. “What, are you mad that only I get to decide what I find interesting?”

You roll back over so he can’t collect his reward from your face, and he just laughs softly behind you.

Do you want to talk about the earring? No. You’re going to help him win over his crush, and then you’ll keep the little ruby in the same way you’ll keep these memories of him: cherished, safe, and hidden in a drawer for when you want to remind yourself that you were able to live this dream, for a little while.

But you don’t want him to think you don’t appreciate the earring, or the gun. “Fine. I’ll play this guessing game with you. But not right now, please. I’m so tired, and I need to get going.”

“How about you stay with me instead.” It’s phrased like a question, but his tone sounds like a command.

“What? I can’t. I told you, I have to work. Do you think I could borrow one of your vehicles to get back home tonight?” You look longingly at the plants through the gauzy drapes, not looking forward to a cold, dark drive home.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“Like what day it is? Yeah, I think that’s just one of many things I’m forgetting.”

In response, he just leisurely lifts your linked wrists. 

You roll over yet again, facing him, and groan.

“Make that noise again,” he teases, lightly cuffing your wrist with his thumb and forefinger.

You ignore him. “Fuck, we really need to figure out how to sever the link at will, instead of just… waiting to fall asleep. Which seems to be the only thing that releases the damn thing.”

“Do we?” He pulls your hand up so he can rest his full lips against your knuckles.

You absolutely refuse to let him distract you this time. This is your job. This is your life. “Don’t you find it inconvenient every single time this happens? Surely there are better things you want to do.” 

“Are there?” he murmurs into your skin.

“Take this seriously, please!”

“Am I not?”

You have the urge to kick him off the bed, but with the linkage, you’d just go over the edge with him. Normally you might be that petty and willing to take the hit, but tonight you’re exhausted. What you need to do is focus on a solution. First, gathering intel. “What time is it? What day is it, even?”

Sylus sighs and lowers your linked hands to his pants pocket and slips his own hand inside, leaving your palm with nowhere to go but on his hip. You refuse to think about the solid warmth underneath the cool fabric, and how easy it would be to keep sliding your hand further down, and everything you would be able to feel along the way.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and you’re released from the torture. “It’s five in the morning. And it’s Sunday.”

You let out a breath of relief. It’s not in the middle of Sunday night like you feared. You must not have slept that long, before you woke up in Sylus’s bed. “Great, then all we have to do is take a nap, or I guess you just have to go to sleep as usual, and I’ll nap again. Then when the link is gone, can I borrow a vehicle to get back to Amnesia? I need to get my bike back.”

“What’s the rush?” Sylus asks, apparently uninterested in your efficient plan to get your life back on track before you head back to work. He scoots closer to you again, resting his head on the pile of pillows, linked wrist pulled up between the two of you near his face.

“There’s stuff I have to prep for, before a long work week. Laundry. Groceries. Watering the plants.”

“How are you going to work with your feet injured?”

You flex your toes, and yeah, your feet sting from the cuts, but you’ve worked through much worse injuries. The key is just to keep the bandages clean and regularly changed. “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”

Sylus sighs again. “You really shouldn’t be working if you’re injured at all, kitten.”

“It’s really fine.”

“It’s really not.”

You’re starting to get annoyed. “Okay, I appreciate that you’re trying to express your concern for me, but it’s not up to you whether or not I’m fit for work. It’s up to my boss. And she’s fine with me working like this too.” You try to soften your voice, because despite your irritation, you can recognize that he’s trying to look out for you. And unlike this guy, you’re nice. “So thank you, really. But it’s my fault I’m hurt in the first place, and I’ll deal with it.”

“Mmm, must suck being wrong not just once, but three times in the span of ten minutes,” he rewards your attempted kindness with a taunt. 

You again resist the urge to kick him off the bed, because you’re trying to be fucking nice here. You narrow your eyes instead. “Oh, I didn’t know I was in the presence of ye mighty, all-knowing master of truth,” you snark.

“Oh?” he perks up. “I like the sound of that. Does this ‘Master’ title also come with your obedience?” He sounds way too pleased at the thought.

Okay, that’s enough being nice. You draw up your knee and plant one leg on the bed while grabbing his forearm with your linked hand. You roll, jerking him with you fast enough that his momentum causes his body to roll on top of yours—for a moment, you experience what it’s like to have the full weight of his big body pressing you into the mattress, and it’s so overwhelming good that you almost pause to savor it, but you’re a fucking professional. You keep the momentum going by thrusting with your hips into a bridge and send him sailing over the edge of the bed. As he goes, you roll with him but plant one knee into the mattress to halt yourself before going over the edge. He ends up dumped over the side of the bed on his ass with a grunt, but you’re starfished on your stomach on the bed with just your linked arm hanging over the edge of the mattress. For a moment you’re worried about how hard the tiles are, and that you might have just hurt him, but then you picture his thick ass and reassure yourself that all that cake must have cushioned the fall. He’ll live. Right? Okay, now you want to pull him up and pat his butt… to soothe any pain, not because you just want to able to touch his—

Suddenly you’re yanked by your wrist from your position on the bed with a yelp, and despite scrabbling with your free hand to prevent your descent, you’re suddenly ungraciously sprawled across Sylus’s big chest, your legs straddling his lap as he sits supporting himself with his unlinked hand behind him.

You plant your hands on his chest and push yourself up, trying desperately not to squeeze his huge pecs like your hands are aching to do.

He looks at you smugly, but there is a pink flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. It must be because of how warm it is in here. “I’ll take that as a no,” he smiles, clearly pleased with himself for having dragged you down with him.

“That’s a no,” you scowl, pretending that you are completely unfazed by this position, by his big warm… lap underneath you, his soft skin and chest hair under your hands, his face so close to yours. This is an everyday experience for you. Straddling a big, half-naked, handsome warlord with your robe open, falling off your shoulders, pooling around the both of you.

You need to focus. You’re so focused right now. On getting home, not his big half-hard dick between your thighs. FUCK.

“I need to go home.” You breathe very slowly. Because you’re calm. You’re a block of ice. You will not melt into him. You will not think about why he is apparently afflicted with a partial boner. He seems untroubled by it, so you refuse to acknowledge it, even to yourself.

“You need to stay with me,” he counters, despite the scowl you’re still giving him. “Are you not even going to ask me what else you’re wrong about tonight?” he asks, tilting his head. His silky hair falls across his forehead.

You close your eyes. You’re focused. You’re learning that if you don’t answer Sylus’s questions the first time, he will simply keep asking until you do. You’re an ice sculpture. Ice sculptures are immovable, poised and out of reach. They don’t squirm in their friend’s lap, just to see if there will be a a bigger reaction—

“What else am I wrong about, Sylus?” you ask, eyes still closed against the dream spread out underneath you.

“Look at me,” the dream says. For some reason, you don’t hesitate and obey his command. His pupils are large in the low light of the torch-lit greenhouse, so his eyes are like the color of the most heady wine. “It’s my fault that you’re hurt, not yours. And technically, it’s up to Dr. Iceman to decide whether you’re fit to work or not, not your captain.”

Now, you do actually freeze, everything else forgotten. “Dr… Iceman?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that only you can assign silly nicknames to people,” Sylus lifts his hand and taps you on the forehead, bringing your wrist up with his.

“What do you mean, it’s up to Zayne to decide whether I’m fit for work?” You suddenly have a very, very bad feeling.

He narrows his wine-dark eyes. “Zayne, is it? Not Dr. Li?” 

You just stare at him. It’s his turn to answer questions, now. 

“I noticed that you also have him listed as ‘Zayne’ in your phone,” he says as if he’s bored while admitting that he’s been nosing around in your phone again. “And what I mean is just what I said. It’s not your captain, but your primary care physician who signs your fitness for duty certificates. If ‘Zayne’ refuses to certify you as fit, you don’t have to go to work.” He emphasizes Zayne’s name, as if to underline what he thinks of you calling your childhood friend and doctor by his first name instead of his title. And what he thinks doesn’t sound entirely approving. Well tough shit, if you don’t get to determine what he finds interesting, he doesn’t get to judge what you call your friends. Even if Zayne doesn’t seem to think of you as friends anymore, you will always care for him and the little boy you knew all those years ago.

“Zayne hasn’t refused to sign any of my health certificates since he became my doctor, so I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.” Thinking about Zayne, and how he treats you with such long-suffering coldness now, you suddenly don’t want to be on Sylus’s lap anymore. You sit back, letting your hand fall away from his chest. He breathes in sharply, and grabs your wrist to force you to sit still.

“Although he has failed in this regard up until now,” he says, voice dripping in disdain. “That’s no longer true, as of last night.”

You don’t need Sylus to hold you in place to keep you still now. Ice water courses through your veins.

“What the fuck does that mean, Sylus? This isn’t funny.”

He narrows his eyes at your cold tone. “Does it look like I’m laughing?”

“No, which is why you’re going to explain, right now, what the fuck you've done.”

“Your doctor has agreed that you should go on indefinite medical leave. Your captain has been informed, and agreed. As of tomorrow, you’re on sick leave until you're actually fit for duty again.”

You just stare at him. Mind empty, breath stopped, shoulders tensed to your ears.

“And it looks like you could really use it right about now.” Sylus gifts you with one of his subtle smiles and lets his hands drift up your shoulders, your shackled wrist going with his. He gently urges you to relax them by pressing down. “Stay with me, instead of going home tonight.”

“You don’t get to make this type of decision for me. How did you even pull this off? This is my job. This is my life. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You can’t seem to resist his gentle, firm press against your shoulders, despite how rigid you currently feel. You're a piano wire garrotte strung too tight, caught in a block of ice.

“It’s not your life, sweetheart,” he cups your shoulders in his big palms, stroking his thumbs along your skin. “It’s your calling, but it’s not your entire life. And again, you don’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Explain how this happened, Sylus.” You’re basically pleading with him, hoping that you’re wrong about what you now are almost certain he has done.

“You’ve already texted your doctor asking for medical leave.”

You flinch. “What?”

“And you should probably get your hearing checked while you’re on medical leave,” Sylus muses.

“Sylus!”

“Yes, the jewel in the crown of my heart?”

“What do you mean, I texted Zayne?” Your voice is strangely high in your ears.

“Exactly that. You texted him. While you were sleeping last night. You’re really a great multitasker, I’m impressed.” He widens his eyes as if to emphasize his admiration.

“You can’t do things like this, Sylus!” You put your uncuffed hand back on his chest and push, just a little, almost futilely. You don’t want to hurt him. You’re shocked that he crossed such a huge boundary before you woke up. He’s crossed so many boundaries before, but has never interfered with your work. Even so, you don’t want to cause him pain.

He lifts a hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek in his big, warm palm. “I can do things like this. I already showed you when I was at your place that I can do things like this. And I did this because your calling is going to fucking kill you if you don’t take the time to recover, physically and emotionally, before you return to it. I did this, because you won't do it for yourself.”

“This wasn’t your call to make.” You’re an iceberg, adrift, thinking about an indefinite stretch of time before you, with nothing to do, just you alone with your thoughts. Because you know that you can’t undo whatever he has done. If Zayne has already agreed, and Jenna has been notified, what possible explanation can you give for showing up to work tomorrow that doesn't sound insane?

“It was a text, not a call,” the pedantic ass corrects you. “And sure, let's say it wasn't my call to make, for the sake of argument. But it is your doctor’s. And he fully supports you taking extended medical leave. It’s a good thing I asked him, because it’s clear from the way he almost didn’t believe that it was you asking that you’d never do this for yourself,” he says, shamelessly indignant that Zayne correctly didn’t initially believe that it was you making the request over text. 

“And he was right,” you bite out. “It wasn’t me asking.”  Despite your helpless anger at what he has done, you let yourself lean into his touch, lifting your hand to circle his wrist and just resting your cheek in his hand. “Why did you do this, when I wasn’t even injured yet? I was still asleep. My feet were fine. I was fine.”

“No matter how many times you repeat that, it isn’t going to suddenly be true.” He murmurs, seeming to sense your pliability. He pulls the arm you’re holding towards himself, as if he knows you’ll go with it, and his hand falls away from your cheek. Instead, he’s now encircling you, holding you against his chest with his free arm. “You haven’t been fine for a long time, sweetheart. It’s time for you to admit that.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the warm scent of his skin. Something about the way he smells is so calming, despite how distraught you are at the weeks yawning ahead of you now, an abyss of time and memories you’ve barely been able to claw at the precipice of for all these long months.

“Have you not used the gun I gave you because the noise of a gunshot triggers flashbacks of the bombing?” he suddenly asks, holding you even tighter, caging you against him in case you try to pull away.

You stiffen, but instead of pulling away, you turn your head and bury your face in his neck. You can’t answer. He asked the perfect question—all you have to do is say yes. You want to say yes. You don’t want him to think you’re ungrateful for his beautiful gift, but the words won’t come. But you agreed to play this game. He asked the perfect question to allow you to easily answer.

You clench your teeth and nod, just a little.

“I win,” he gloats softly, smiling into your hair. “Thank you.”

You still can’t say anything, but you feel a strange sense of relief, like pulling off a bandage and seeing that the wound underneath has been healing nicely when you were afraid it might have been infected.

“You made a deal with me tonight. If you don’t want something from me, you promised to honestly tell me. I did this before we had that conversation, but you can still say no. I’m not going to keep you captive here, and force you to take time to focus on recovering from everything you’ve gone through this year.” He runs his fingers up and down your back, warm even through the cool silk of your robe. “But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to stay here with me and just take a break? That you don’t want to take advantage of the medical leave to let your feet heal, and to spend some time away from the stress and risks of your everyday life? You can think of it as a well-deserved vacation.”

You lift your head, straightening a little to look into his earnest face. “You would want me to stay here?”

"Oh, my kitten's hearing is actually fine," he laughs softly. “I thought I made that clear, with the three times I asked you to stay with me.”

Once again, you’re struck by how little you understand this man, even after your long talk tonight. You know he doesn’t hate you now. That he has no intention to hurt you again. He seems to even like you, as a person, and not just as someone who will be useful as an ally someday, or as a guinea pig for trying out romantic gestures. Your mind drifts to your shampoo and conditioner in his shower, and that brief flash of hope that he may care for you as more than a tool. As a person. You remember in the shower, wondering if he may care for you as maybe more than just... you can't let your mind go there. But you can't help but think of him caressing your skin with his thumb, and wondering if he gained reassurance from it too. He told you to ask questions when you have them. So you do. “But why?”

His gaze drifts from your eyes, to your mouth. Then he looks away, seeming to leisurely take in the wild life all around you, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m never bored when you’re around,” he says, the picture of casual.  He returns to looking at you, his lovely eyes searching yours.

Of course. You weren’t hoping for any other answer. That sudden weight in your stomach—it isn’t disappointment. You’re amusing, a sideshow: come one, come all, behold the strange deadly jester! You’re useful when maintained properly. That’s why he keeps showing up to spend time with you, and why he’d want you wandering around his base for weeks at a time. Your mind drifts back to Luke and Kieran showing you the psychology book about people who can have everything they want. How they enjoy a challenge. You’re just friends, after all. He’s just asking a friend in need to relax at his place, and in return he will get some amusement from it. Maybe he views you as a sniper rifle with broken components. A little side project, a fixer-upper. He probably has all sorts of people drifting around the place to satisfy his whims and need for entertainment. Not that you’ve ever seen anyone at the base besides Luke and Kieran, but you spent most of your time here previously in a locked room. What do you know? “You’re in that dire need of entertainment?”

“Not when you’re around,” he tugs gently on a lock of your hair. “So, will you accept my gift of a surprise holiday and stay with me?” 

You just stare at him, trying to sift through your feelings. Do you want to take a break, in a place far removed from your silent apartment, from your deadly job? Not that the N109 Zone isn’t deadly, but… Sylus will be close, and there will likely be other people in and out to give you some measure of relief from the thoughts in your head. Even though he’s inviting you to stay in a place you just tried desperately to escape, a place which still gives you anxiety when you think too hard about it. But this time will be different, right? He says he wants you here. As far as you can tell, he doesn’t want anything else from you besides dodgy dating advice, and for you to be around to entertain him once in a while when he isn’t preoccupied with business. The place is huge. He said he has a gym. And this greenhouse… you can spend all the time you want in here. Weren't you just thinking how nice it would be, if you could stay here until he tires of you, in your own little pocket universe of frozen time? There are worse ways to spend a convalescent leave. Your mind returns to the most appealing part—Sylus will be close.   

Apparently you’re taking too long to answer, because he tugs on your hair a little again. “Yes? No?—” you bring your hands up and cover his mouth before he can say “Maybe so,” because he apparently has limited lines at his disposal for being a little shit and you don’t want to hear this particular line from him again right now. He lifts an eyebrow, and suddenly you feel his warm tongue sliding wetly up your palm.

All at once you’re very aware, again, of how you’re sitting in his lap, with all of his bulk underneath you. That the soft warm skin and fur of his chest is under your forearms as you hold your hands to his plush lips. The feel of his tongue along your skin sends a jolt through you that takes you by such surprise that you rock against him with your hips, once, without even realizing that your body has simply moved on its own to get what it suddenly desperately wants. His tongue disappears from your palm but his breath hitches and he makes a low sound, deep in his throat.

You freeze and stare into his eyes. You don’t dare move, your palm still pressed against his full lips. You think you see a pink flush creeping up his cheeks beyond your hands, but again, it’s probably just because it’s so warm in the greenhouse.

This is just a dream, you tell yourself. His arm around you. This beautiful place, filled with thriving, living things. His hard warmth underneath you. He’s offering you a dream, for a little while. He’s inviting you into his world, as he invited you into sleep before, to help you rest, to refill your empty tank. Every weapon needs maintenance. Every tool has a breaking point if overused. You know, deep down, that he’s right about you not being fine. Maybe if you let him lull you into this dream for a little while, when you wake up you’ll be able to bear returning to the cold solitude of your useful life. You can hold the memory of this dream close to you, to warm you through the long years after he flies so far ahead of you that you’re unable to catch him. When whoever he loves begins flying by his side.

The thought of turning down his offer, and driving away from him right now, is suddenly excruciating. It won’t hurt anyone, taking a little bit of the comfort he so easily offers for yourself, right? His future lover won’t have to know about the tool he stored in his home, amidst all the other weapons in his arsenal, for just a little while. You’ll stay out of everyone’s way—no one will notice you here, and no one will notice when you’re gone.

You don’t think you deserve it, but you decide to be selfish. Just this once. The only person who will be hurt in the end is you. You’ll indulge in this little dream, just for a little while.

Suddenly you feel the slick of his tongue in your hand again. “Ith thith your anther?” Sylus asks from behind your palm. You careen back into the awareness of your body. You jerk your hands away and scramble off of him, landing on your ass on the pretty, colorful tiles.

As you go, you realize he isn’t coming with you. You look down at your wrist—the evol linkage has dissolved.

Sylus sits in the same position, leisurely sitting on the tiles next to the garden bed. He rubs his wrist with his other hand thoughtfully. “Is this your answer?” he repeats.

You take a deep breath. “Yes.” Just for a little while. You’ll take a little break. You’ll live the dream of going on dates with Sylus. Of being welcome in his house. Of not having to fight, every single day, just to survive. And since this is all just a dream anyway, you'll indulge in some of the things you'd never allow yourself while awake. You'll allow yourself the dream that each date is real. That each caress from his rough hands is meant for you, and only you. When he does finally get bored with you, you’ll go, and you’ll be grateful for the memories, each a little jewel that you'll tuck away in a safe place, to be taken out and admired when you're missing him and this bright, impossible dream the most.

"Why do you look so sad, if it's a yes?"

You try to steel your expression. "Sad? I'm not sad. Just—tired." That's not a complete lie. But Sylus shakes his head and gracefully gets to his feet. He offers you his hand. You just stare at it.

"New rule. You can lie to everyone else in your life, but not to me." He beckons you with his hand.

"Oh, I have to follow rules, but you don't?" You flick your gaze disdainfully from his hand to his face.

"My rules are always sensible. And I told you, give me a list of rules that make sense, and I'll follow them. I'm still waiting, for both the list, and for your hand." He motions with his hand again, this time impatiently. You just lean back, with all the time in the world now.

"Are you sad because you made the questionable fashion decision of leaving your ruby earring at home?"

The unexpected question startles a laugh out of you. "Yeah, Sylus. That's why I'm sad," you lie again. But your heart feels a little lighter at his obvious attempt to make you smile. You finally give in and take his offered hand, pulling yourself to your feet. The pain in your feet distracts you from any lingering pain in your chest. He must catch your wince, because you're swept into his arms again.

"Take mine," he says, turning his head to show you the stud that is still in his ear. You've been so distracted tonight that you didn't clock that he was still wearing it. "Until we retrieve yours from your home." He carries you back through the greenhouse, galoshes that he slipped back into before leaving the clearing crunching on the winding slate path.

You wonder why he's so insistent that you wear it, but also strangely touched that he is. "Okay. But I'm not taking that thing out of your ear while you're carrying me. And you really, really don't need to carry me until my feet are fully healed. This is one of those times I'm telling you no, I honestly don't need this from you. Okay?"

His only response is to hold you tighter and turn his head back towards you so he can run his nose briefly along your temple. "Fine," he says. "Starting tomorrow. For now, let's get some sleep. It's been a long night, and if you're going to be here with me, you need to align your sleep schedule with mine."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. Efficient. Simple. With the utmost confidence. The essence of Sylus Qin.

"Okay," you sigh, relaxing into his arms. You'll take what he is offering, a gift to yourself, for just for a little while. You relish in the strength in his arms, the safety of his heartbeat against your body, the peace of having everything already decided without you having to do a thing. Just for a little while.

"Welcome to my world now, kitten," he says, his voice a purr of satisfaction, with a finality that sounds like a door slamming shut and the handle falling off, rolling leisurely, useless on the floor.

***

end notes: I promise that now that I've finished the exhaustive setup of addressing Sylus's main chapter in-game bullshit and the change of venue from Linkon City to the N109 Zone, more action will start happening! We have a tank! Sylus has a swimming pool and an armory! We will be getting a black card! We have a birthday party to attend! There are dates that must go sideways!

[fleurhcss]

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝? – Han x FEM Reader!

cw : guitarist and singer, rockstar, semi public sex, concert, bfwb to lovers, little bit crazy, perm han, love your thighs

sw : choke kink, biting, oral (both), piv, unprotected sex, humping, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names, MDNI.

wc : 6.600 words

synopsis : You and Jisung have been friends since primary school. A unique friendship. He had a special personality, quirky, a bit manic in some ways. Whereas you were always shy and kept to yourself. You always supported him, even in his budding career as a rock star. You loved the way he held the stage. Unfortunately, this job deprived him of many of life's pleasures, such as sex. One day he made a suggestion which, despite your initial embarrassment, you did not refuse. You were also sexually frustrated because you had never found a man who met your standards. And Jisung was the perfect man. So you began to be best friends with benefits. One day he will start his performance with a new look that will drive you crazy and this will result in a long and hot sex session.

a/n : this is the third fic that I wrote here and I'm so happy to see that a lot of you really liked this plot so after some waitings here for you the full story !!! 🎀 Hope u enjoy this, let's see in the next one !!! 🤍🤍🥰I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

MASTERLIST

[ HARD SMUT ]

You and Jisung have always been best friends. You met him in primary school when you were just two kids. You still remember the afternoons you spent together eating snacks and helping him with his homework. He was truly a child full of surprises and talents, he could do anything and you followed him everywhere because you loved him. Jisung was a part of you, you shared everything with him. You were two completely different personalities: you were kind, calm, shy and quiet, and he was quirky, eccentric, talkative, who loved to be the centre of attention and show off his talents, but you knew that deep down he was a kind-hearted person, despite some of his peculiar behaviour that you could sometimes not understand. Jisung really was a personality in his own right. He was unique, and that was what made this friendship unique. No one was like Han Jisung. Like your best friend. And no one would ever be. Never. You were a part of each other and had made a promise to each other. Over time, even your different passions and paths had failed to separate you. You had a job that reflected your personality, a simple bartender and photographer, while he, with a brilliant personality, had become a big shot in music. A wonderful rock star. A lifestyle that perfectly reflected his: free, flamboyant, unique. Han Jisung was simply the rock itself.

Unfortunately, however, our duties often and willingly take us away from what is pleasurable. And indeed it did. Because of the time you spent between the café and the photo studio, you could rarely go out at night to find a man to take to bed. And the frustration was high; you felt the physical need to get laid like never before. To get rid of all the stress weighing on your shoulders. Jisung's situation was no different. With his life as a musician, between studio work and concerts scattered around the country or even on tour, he never had time to relax and indulge in his manly pleasures. He had always been a bit of a playboy in his high school days, you well remember him taking advantage of every party to get into bed with some girl. It was amazing how the next day he would tell you everything in detail and you would tease him about his performance in bed. He was so sweet and convincing when he told you about his talents in bed.

However, when he started to devote himself to music, everything changed. No more tales of strange performances in bed. On the contrary, he would tell you how frustrating it was not to be able to take anyone to bed because of lack of time and fame. If he was caught, he would surely end up in the middle of a scandal, and he was determined to avoid that. He hated having to apologise for indulging his pleasures. Also because you were aware of your best friend's strange habits in bed.

Yes, because Han Jisung loved to play strange bed games with anyone who came along. You were in eighth grade when he first told you about one of his crazy nights at a party. He had left bite marks all over the girl's body and had fucked her in a position that you weren't sure you fully understood when he described it to you. Even less did you think it was normal to prepare the girl with the neck of a wine bottle. But that was Jisung, as special in bed as he was in real life.

Sometimes you were afraid of what she might do when you were not around. He was a strange personality and you loved that about him.

Every once in a while, before he went off to the studio for rehearsals or the release of a new album, he would drop by to tell you about the latest happenings over a good cup of coffee. He remembered how you take it from your high school days and loved to bring you breakfast every morning and tell you about the previous day. It gave you the feeling that nothing had changed over the years. You and Jisung were still the same kids in primary school, fighting over which stickers to put under the desk to make it your own.

You loved this side of your friendship, you felt more and more connected to him in every way, it was as if the longer you went on, the more nothing changed. It warmed your heart and you were grateful. You followed him to every concert in the country, leaving the café under the leadership of your clique of friends. Occasionally you took the opportunity to travel and see his concerts around the world, and when you couldn't join him, he would call you and you would stay up all night. He would always send you videos of where he was going, full performances just for you. You were his privileged fan and he loved it all.

Whenever he came back from tour, you would find him at your door with two beers and two pizzas, ready to spend the next two days with you, telling you about his colourful life away from home while on tour. And you smiled broadly when he told you of his madness and when he held you close to him after months of not feeling the contact of your body and the scent of your skin, which he loved madly. You remember how many times he told you how much he loved your perfume, whether it was some new scent you had bought or the simple smell of your skin after a hot winter shower.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of having a Han Jisung as your friend, as your best friend. It was like having a holiday home all to yourself, only in this case the holiday was for life and nothing could change that fate. Not even his crazy ideas about you, or those strange illuminations he had at night, telling you to follow him through the streets at four in the morning, or to play in the playground.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was so strange to think about how you had ended up in that situation with Jisung. Him naked at your side, caressing your skin with his lips.

One day, you remember exactly when and how it happened, you were eating a good kebab, he was complaining about how frustrating his life was since he could no longer take anyone to bed with him. You were about to choke on your beer when the idea came out of his mouth. "Yes, we could help each other! You give me pleasure and I give you pleasure. It's a fair deal, see? So I can show you my talents, you who have heard so much about them for so long," he said excitedly, clapping his hands. Do you remember how you looked at him in shock, your cheeks almost burning? You almost didn't choke on your salad. You were embarrassed, you didn't think your best friend could think such things, with you too. With you. Did Jisung really want to fuck you? You were a bit afraid that it would ruin your friendship. But on the other hand I felt he was right, you were the only one he could go with and he was the only one you had time to spend with. It was an offer with merit, and in the end quite tempting. You were shy, but at the same time you didn't want to turn down the offer, after all Jisung was your best friend, what could go wrong that it wouldn't work out? after all, no man reflected your standards and Han Jisung was really the perfect man. Muscular body, slim waist and long legs. Strong arms, a beautiful face with a predatory look. Jisung was simply ethereal.

"Jisung, are you sure about what you are asking me?" you asked, still a little incredulous. "Of course, Princess. I trust no one but you, and among other things, your body is wonderful, you have gorgeous thighs, I would love to stick my face in them." He whispered in your ear, making you blush. You hadn't expected him to be like that. This boy was a constant surprise. He bit your neck, then took a sip of beer and blinked at you. He was going to drive you crazy, you were more than sure. No one could make you like him, it was amazing the power he had over you.

You sighed and looked at him, "All right, I'm in, but don't get any strange ideas Han". You continued to eat as a huge grin appeared on his face.

And when you saw him grinning, you knew it was over for you.

That's how you ended up where you were now, in Han Jisung's arms, naked in his bed. Secretly, perhaps not so secretly, you loved the way he drew strange patterns on your skin, the way he kissed you and branded your breasts. You were always at his mercy. You caressed his warm stomach skin as he almost massaged your shoulder with his eyes closed. You felt him move underneath you to reach for the water and take a sip before he kissed your hair and began to slide his hand down to your bottom, cupping it in his hands and letting out a giggle. He was amazing, that boy, he would never change.

He ran a hand up your back, cupping your neck from behind and letting the back of your neck tilt back, biting your lower lip and pulling it towards him as he massaged your buttocks. You loved the little touches he would give you after a long session of sex. Also because he had worn you out enough that night. You knew how crazy he was in bed, he always proved it to you, and this time he had only confirmed the theory. He had chosen to eat you, laying you on your stomach on the mattress and taking your legs, wrapping them around his neck as he teased your hole with two fingers. You loved it when he pulled at your pussy lips with his teeth, it drove you crazy the way he squeezed as if he wanted to pull them away from you. "What are you thinking about?" He distracted you from your thoughts, you giggled as you thought about him and what you had done in bed just before. "About you and your extraordinary sexual performance," you laughed and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. He patted your bottom as he burst out laughing and covered his face, then rubbed it and rested on his elbows. His chest was full of your marks, as were your breasts. He had enjoyed branding you that night.

"I have a concert tomorrow, are you coming? I will be wearing a new look and there will be a new song on the set list, I hope you like it, Princess." He smiled and then slipped under the covers and catapulted himself over your body, laughing and kissing your stomach. "Of course I'll come, Jisung. I could never miss a concert of yours. I'm curious too. What are you going to do? Will you come back with blue hair like in high school?" you scoffed. He knew how much you had loved that high school period; blue hair had been your favourite look.

He smiled and jumped out from under the covers, towering over your body, your naked intimacies colliding and making you moan. It was literally driving you crazy. "No, something sexier, I have a performance in store that will blow your mind and you will be in the VIP station with backstage access. I need my princess to recharge, in fact I'm feeling very tired right now, I need a healthy recharge." He grinned. And that sneer could only mean one thing with Han Jisung. Another round. This guy really never got tired when you went to bed. "You really are a lost cause, Han," you said, stroking his hair as he rested his chin on your belly. "And you adore me so much." He laughed, then reached between your legs and began to bite your thighs. He loved your thighs and told you so every time you fucked.

"You have no idea how much I love the taste of your skin under my lips." He whispered, still licking away traces of his cum that were present along your thighs. Another thing you loved about fucking was the fact that you were both clean, no protection and on the pill. So he would release inside you and you loved the feeling of the heat spreading inside you.

He kissed your intimacy and began to slowly run his tongue over it as he cupped your thighs. He took a bite and began to penetrate you with his tongue. He may have given you heaven on a silver platter. He squeezed your buttocks and continued to move his tongue inside you, nimbly moving his hot muscle which, on contact with your already hot walls, seemed to plunge into the hidden, fiery caves of the pleasure circle. He broke away to get some air and took the opportunity to bite one thigh and continue to leave marks all over it, again not stopping there but continuing up the thigh as well. "You cannot understand the desire I have for you. You are delicious. My favourite dessert." He slid two fingers together with his tongue to spread you as wide as possible, even though you were not tight because of the act he had already performed earlier; it wasn't your first time together but he wanted you to be not only comfortable but as pleasurable as possible. He didn't mind giving you pleasure vicariously, especially as he knew how much you enjoyed his actions. He began to move his fingers inside your opening, almost simulating the same movements as his tongue, only the latter went much deeper. From two fingers he went to three and he was sure that he had uncovered your sensitive spot because you moaned. And that could only make Jisung competitive. He started to hit that spot while he used his tongue to lubricate it, after all, no one forbid you to come several times in one night.

The more he looked at your naked body, the more Jisung blinked with eyes filled with lust. Caught in a burning passion that could only be stopped by satisfying it, the boy held your thighs tightly and pushed himself into you for the umpteenth time, almost exhausting you. So he was surprised when he saw you rise, but without a word he let you go to see how far you would go. And so he eased you down, laying on the back of your bed that had accommodated you until then, before moaning hoarsely as he fully felt your tight walls welcoming his member from head to toe, "Holy shit baby...you are so tight, how is it possible that I just fucked you."

He placed his veiny hands on your tight waist to help you move as uncontrollable moans and gasps escaped from both your lips. You were about to reach the climax, but it was too soon for him to stop this inexplicable pleasure; he would have gone on indefinitely just to hold you and fuck you. He smiled mischievously as he watched you gain confidence and begin to jump on his member faster and faster. You grabbed his neck, pulling his hair back, and he made you tighten your grip, looking at you with piercing eyes. "Don't be afraid to hurt me Mummy - do whatever you want to me. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy." He whispered convincingly as he moved closer to your ear before relaxing under your captivating touch. You loved having that effect on him. To see when you were fucking tired after long sessions without having to see him squeeze you into strange positions. Jisung was enchanting in everything he did, which drove you crazy.... You felt completely at his mercy.

You groaned when you felt him bite your shoulder and turned around to see the teeth marks on your shoulder.

He giggled in amusement and took your chin in one hand and kissed you hard while holding your side with the other, helping you to move faster and faster.

You grinned to yourself, especially when you saw how helpless Jisung was against your touch. "Please make me cum, you're so good, fuck Princess" he moaned into your ear.

Your tongues intertwined as you sought each other out. You sucked on the older man's as you rose and fell on his intimacy. You loved the feel of his hands gripping between your waist and buttocks; it was a sensation that went to your head. "Do you want to come? Who am I not to please you, baby?" You smiled amiably, but with a hint of mockery, not because you wanted to tease him, but because you wanted to provoke him further. You wrapped your hands around the young man's neck and pressed your now joined bodies closer together. You continued to thrust until you tightened around the young man's length and poured yourself onto him. But it was not over there, he had not yet come and you had regained your strength to finish there. You had to give him his endurance for the performance. You continued to move quickly on his member until you were close to his ear. "Why don't you fuck me, hard, use me, cum inside me". You were provoking him. And who was Han Jisung to deny you that? You pulled away and licked the line that connected the beginning of his jaw to his chin. You loved provoking him, it was his favourite part. Especially to see his reaction.

He took you by the neck and pulled you closer to his face, barely laughing at your words. "Oh, but baby doll, we're not done yet." As he spoke, he had brought his free hand to your intimacy to collect some of your moisture, which he immediately brought to his mouth, not taking his eyes off you for a moment, wanting to enjoy your expression as you realised he was tasting you. And that drove you crazy. You loved the look Jisung always reserved for you. He licked his fingers and then looked at you with a mocking grin, determined to take what was coming to him. His member ached from how hard it was and he didn't want to waste any more time, "Do you want me to use you, baby doll, mh? Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered lasciviously in your ear before grabbing your waist again with both hands, squeezing you and holding you still as he had you lie back against the mattress and began to thrust hard and fast on your sensitive spot again. The uneven rhythm allowed Jisung to enjoy your screams as he picked up the pace after a short pause. It was like music to his ears, so much so that he soon found himself moaning along with you. "Fuck baby you are so tight. How I love this feeling." He whispered into your ear. You were crazy about this Jisung. You worshipped him. "Mh...fuck Jisung faster please, I could come again at any moment..."

The last thrusts were harder than the others, he poured himself completely into you, moaning your name in the climax, followed by you, now exhausted.

"You have no idea what I have in store for you tomorrow baby, it will be the most memorable fuck of your entire life. Even the walls will fucking know your name." He laughed, then bit your thigh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It had been a tough day at work, you hadn't heard from your best friend and you were sure he was getting ready for the concert that would be this night. In fact, you had already planned your outfit for the evening: a black sheath dress over the thigh with a braid on the chest, a leather jacket and your beloved black knee-high boots. You had also thought of a make-up that would drive Jisung crazy and bring out the colours of your skin.

As soon as you got home, it didn't take you more than two minutes to catapult yourself into the shower and wash up. You were ready in no time, and when you looked in the mirror for the first time in months, you felt really pretty. Beautiful, in fact.

You were really curious about what Jisung had in store for you that night. He had been teasing you until he left your house the day before. He had said that he was going to change his look and you were sure that he was going to do something to his hair as it was the first thing that usually he would change. But you were also very curious about the song he was going to perform in preview this night, as it had not yet been released on any platform. You were sure he would come up with something sexy, as he usually did when he came up with these sudden things. You giggled to yourself. As you grabbed your last things and left the house, you had a smile on your face, happy and curious to see this new side of Jisung. You didn't even need a note, because by now your best friend's security and staff knew you well, not least because you had been caught making out in his dressing room a couple of times and Jisung had been forced to reveal everything to his manager, who had teased him about being desperate. You remember laughing at the look on Jisung's face at that moment.

It had been a tough day at work, you hadn't heard from your best friend and you were sure he was getting ready for the concert that would be this night. In fact, you had already planned your outfit for the evening: a black sheath dress over the thigh with a braid on the chest, a leather jacket and your beloved black knee-high boots. You had also thought of a make-up that would drive Jisung crazy and bring out the colours of your skin.

As soon as you got home, it didn't take you more than two minutes to catapult yourself into the shower and wash up. You were ready in no time, and when you looked in the mirror for the first time in months, you felt really pretty. Beautiful, in fact.

You were really curious about what Jisung had in store for you that night. He had been teasing you until he left your house the day before. He had said that he was going to change his look and you were sure that he was going to do something to his hair as it was the first thing that usually he would change. But you were also very curious about the song he was going to perform in preview this night, as it had not yet been released on any platform. You were sure he would come up with something sexy, as he usually did when he came up with these sudden things. You giggled to yourself. As you grabbed your last things and left the house, you had a smile on your face, happy and curious to see this new side of Jisung. You didn't even need a note, because by now your best friend's security and staff knew you well, not least because you had been caught making out in his dressing room a couple of times and Jisung had been forced to reveal everything to his manager, who had teased him about being desperate. You remember laughing at the look on Jisung's face at that moment.

When you arrived at the entrance to the park where the concert was to take place that night, you were greeted by the staff who escorted you to your reserved seat in the VIP box. Whenever Jisung gave a concert, you felt important just because you were accompanied by his bodyguards. You usually visited him before each concert, but this time you didn't want to spoil the surprise. You wanted to discover his much-vaunted new look at the same time as the performance. You bit your lower lip when the announcer started talking about Jisung and the concert as an introduction, and tugged at your lip fur when the first VCR started. Jisung was truly breathtaking; you had never seen a boy with such refined beauty. He had such delicate and sweet features, but at the same time he was so masculine. Every time you looked at him, you were amazed that his petite body was so well defined and muscular. He was just spectacular. Maybe he was the only guy you would want to fuck no matter who your best friend was. Jisung was the kind of guy you thought was perfect just the way he was. You wondered what he would be like as a boyfriend. But perhaps your mind began to fantasize too much about a hypothetical and almost unlikely relationship with him.

When Jisung appeared a few minutes later and greeted everyone with a big smile, the staff almost had to bring you a glass of water to get you back. It was his usual winking look, that look that drove you crazy, especially when he stuck out his tongue and raised his eyebrows. But it was not that that had particularly impressed you. It was the long-awaited "new look" he had to show off. Her hair was permed, it wasn't quite curly, but he'd waved it to set off his face. It was simply stunning. He wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black trousers that dangerously bandaged his toned legs, and his beloved ankle black boots. Not to mention the inexhaustible amount of jewellery he always wore. You could even see his gleaming nose and lip piercings from under the stage.

His eyes caught yours and he winked, and for the first time you actually blushed under his amused gaze. He licked his lips and craned his neck, then approached the microphone. "I want to dedicate this song to someone special. It's new, you've never heard it before, and I want to give you a sneak preview. It's called 'Don't Say'," he finished, picking up his electric guitar and starting to sing. Your lips were open, Jisung made you tremble when he sang, he was really born to be on stage. He had the air of a rock star. His movements, his voice. He was magnificent. You started to feel hot when he threw his knees over the edge of the stage to start a guitar solo. How crazy he made you when he played, he really made your head spin. With that tongue stuck between his teeth, that defiant look. And then that hair, that curly hair falling down over his face, it really drove you crazy. You felt that night that you could have let that boy do anything to you.

You imagined what it would be like to pull his hair like that, to have those curls trapped between your fingers, your fingers trapped in those curls. You bit your lower lip so hard that you felt blood coming out from too much force. You imagined Jisung on top of you, fucking you so hard that you went crazy, arching your back and rolling your eyes. He was the only one who could make you feel like that. You knew that. You had had enough experiences in your life and Jisung, your best friend, had been the best. Now you understood and mostly believed what he told you about his performance in bed, because you had experienced it yourself on your skin, on your body. Jisung could do it, and that drove you crazy. You would have wanted him all to yourself, all the time. Not just for simple fucks, although they weren't that at all. He would take care of you afterwards, spend time with you. You weren't just a one-night stand. Or just a one-night stand friend. Jisung was in love with you, and if you had only understood the way he looked at you, you would have realised it much sooner. He adored you so much. But just seeing him on stage with that erotic look on his face as he smoothly ran his fingers over the guitar strings made you realise how attractive he was even when he was doing normal things. You were crazy about him, and you realised it just by watching him play.

When he unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt during his speech, leaving only two, you squeezed your thighs because you were soaking wet. You were sure that Jisung would tease you even more if he saw you in that state. That was typical of him. He loved to see you under him, moaning and trembling at his touch. Well, how could you not when he reserved that feline look for you. Normally Jisung had such big eyes that he looked like Bambi, you always called him "Squirrel Boy" because of his cheeks or "Bambi Boy" because of his eyes. But when you were under him and he was fucking you, his look was that of a hungry panther who would not be easily sated by you. You were very sure of that. Also, because when you were in bed, the rounds were always three or two, you remember how he once lasted until dawn. It was one of your best fucks.

You returned the look he had reserved for you for a few moments, and you quickly realised that he wanted to take you backstage with him after the concert. You were a little scared after what happened last time, when you were caught. You thought he was a bit of an exhibitionist. Also because it was to be expected, given his personality.

His manager came to see you in person, rolling her eyes; she knew exactly what was coming, and maybe you did too. Jisung was a lost cause. You bit your lower lip again and made yourself comfortable on the small sofa in his dressing room while the manager asked for the door. "Please be discreet, don't make too much noise." She giggled, sending a trail of blush down your cheeks. You looked around and waited for your best friend to arrive, probably stuck at the meet and greet taking pictures with fans. All the more reason for you to be quiet. Or at least you were the one who had to keep a certain voice tone. Every time you fucked the morning after, you had to drink one of those hot herbal teas with honey. And that had always made Jisung sneer and boosted his ego.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

About half an hour after you arrived in his dressing room, the elder's slender, toned figure peeked through the door, his neck craned to one side with his customary wink. He watched you as he finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled back his semi-curly hair.

He approached you slowly, as if to support the pace of a panther, as if to seduce you. It was an erotic vision. His unbuttoned shirt revealed his toned tan chest, the two nipple piercings reflected in the room as he licked his lips, playing with the piercing in them. You tightened your legs and lost your breath and he noticed it well. "So I see you enjoyed the show quite a bit, very much so my new look, did you?" He laughed as he spread your legs with one knee and rubbed it against your wet cunt. You were unable to respond, as if the cat had really eaten your tongue. In this case, the cat was him. "I can see that you enjoyed it very much. Look at you, princess, all wet just for me." He whispered on your lips and then began a ravenous kiss. He wanted to devour you and you gladly let him.

"You don't know how much, Jisung," you rested your head on the back of the sofa you were sitting on. "Oh, well, I really do notice it, Princess. But you have to be quiet until we reach my apartment, let me tease you a little now," he grinned and then lowered himself between your legs and began to take long bites of your thighs. He loved your thighs, he had told you so many times since you had become what you were at this moment: best friends with benefits. It seemed almost strange to say, but it was true. Although you thought of Jisung as something more than just friends. Who knows what he thought.

Your hands began to ruffle his hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck, noting how remarkably well his hair actually grew and how extremely beautiful it made him look. As he left marks and brands on your inner thigh, his curls wrapped around your fingers, you rolled them around your index finger and bit your lower lip. Jisung droves you crazy. When he stood up, you looked down at him, feeling his gaze go straight into your veins and especially between your legs, as the fabric of your panties was now completely wet. But he took advantage of this detail. Yes, he lowered his trousers and you thought he was going to fuck your mouth, but in fact he pulled out his already erect cock and spread your legs even wider and began to rub the length between your covered and wet folds. Now it was hard to hold back your moans. And to help you, he covered your mouth with his hand. His movements were fluid as he trapped his lip between your walls, simulating a fuck. "You're so wet princess, all for me. So warm. God, if only I could fuck you right now." He moaned as he pushed the tip between your pussy covered by the wet fabric of your panties. "MphfJis...I'm...about...to...come!" You said disjointedly because of his hand.

He took your chin with the hand that was covering your mouth and opened your mouth with two fingers, playing with your tongue as he fucked your walls again. "Me too baby, open your mouth." He said and began to fuck your mouth as his thumb made room under your panties and began to move quickly over your clit. This made you roll your eyes back and moan in a way that made his cock jerk. He was driving you crazy. This was going to be the best fuck of your life and you were sure of it.

After several thrusts he poured into the warm walls of your throat and you into your panties and onto his thumb. You almost bit his cock. "You did great baby." He said, leaving your lips to swallow and clean up the cum that dripped down your chin. You did, licking it off as he licked his thumb and lowered himself between your thighs to lick off your humour and rip off your panties. "We won't be needing these anymore." He laughed and threw them into the trash. You almost screamed, you were still very sensitive down there. "You're crazy Han Jisung, you know they can hear us," you said, biting your lip. "Let them hear baby, you are mine and only I can fuck you like this." He whispered in your ear and then pulled you towards him. "Come on, let's go. We have a long night ahead of us Princess." He said, slapping your thighs and pulling on his jacket without putting his shirt back on.

He dragged you with him and left the room, shouting to his manager that he was going home. You were open-mouthed; you had never seen him so eager to fuck you. When you reached the car, all he did was squeeze your thigh as he stepped on the accelerator. Your legs were close together and the fact that you were not wearing panties allowed your vaginal lips to rub between them and wet the seat of Jisung's car. Perhaps a little too much, as the older man noticed and put his hand between your labia and began to rub them. "Jisung, please, I am too sensitive..." you begged him, but that did not stop him, for it only brought another grin to his face.

"Princess, that is not even the beginning."

Indeed he was right, for as soon as you arrived at the elder's house you were immediately thrown into bed and stripped of all your clothes. And now you found yourself naked beneath the still covered body of your best friend. And as he rubbed his covered knee over your naked intimacy, he began to undress until he too was naked in front of your eyes. He lowered himself onto your breasts and began to bite and suck on them, especially your sensitive nipples. Your legs were tight around his waist so that his erect intimacy rubbed against your already sensitive and wet cunt. In fact, as he bit your skin from your neck to your collarbone and your tits, you felt the tip of his cock pushing and rubbing between your walls. "I can feel you so fucking wet for me." He moaned into your ear as you gasped out unconnected words, including his name. "Jisung please fuck me, I can't stand it anymore."

"As you wish my princess." He sneered and then grabbed you by the throat, squeezing you almost to the point of suffocation, and thrust into you, immediately beginning to move with a force you did not believe he had. You moaned like never before and it drove you mad. The way he slapped and rubbed his cock between your walls. His hands slid gently over your hips, massaging and squeezing. It was wonderful, the feeling of your walls around him, around his member, the warmth that only your body could have given him. You squeezed again until his intimacy touched perhaps your inner and weakest part. His lips roamed over your bare skin, lingering here and there to leave marks, bites, kisses. Now and then he focused on your nipples, tormenting them, biting carefully, pulling with his teeth and then sucking. Again. His hands also came to cupping your buttocks, spreading them, massaging them, so to your hips and thighs. Then he began to give you more precise, powerful, almost violent thrusts . "You are fucking magnificent." He whispered in your ear, then bit your earlobe and went back to kissing that bare skin, long since unbleached. He was hungry, you were his favourite dish, his delicacy. If he could, he would have fed on your perfect body all the time.

At that moment, all you could think about was Jisung and how he made you feel by fucking you. For a moment you could not understand where you were. Your mind was clouded with bliss, heat enveloped your whole body like a thick cloud. You couldn't help but melt into the arms of the boy whose name you couldn't stop saying, thrust after thrust.

You dug your nails into the flesh of his arms that blocked your breath, seeking support as you felt your body slowly melt with pleasure, almost too overwhelming to bear. You clung to his lips; it was hard to pull away. You grinned mischievously and rested your hand on the boy's, enticing him to tighten his grip on your neck. You tried to get closer and closer to his body, this pathetic closeness was not enough for you, you wanted more, you felt the need to become one with him. You rested your forehead on his and began to move your pelvis against his.

He pulled away from your body, tightening his grip around your neck as you continued to moan his name. You were sure the older man's neighbours had heard all the times you had screamed his name. But you wanted more and more, you were greedy for his cock, you couldn't get enough of it and you just wanted to feel his hot cum dripping down your thighs. You were addicted to his cock. It was pleasurable to feel the sensation of his nails gripping your flesh, branding it and making it his. Your walls also tightened around his member from the stimulation and God, God only knows how much pleasure Jisung felt at that moment. You began to thrust more and more with your pelvis, helping him with the thrusts. The older man took both of your legs and decided to bring them to your chest so that he could thrust more accurately. To say that you had both become a moaning mess seemed a fairly obvious thing to say, as that had been the case. He lay down by your side, not getting out of you, now you were lying on your side, your legs against his chest as he fucked you, holding you tight from the waist as he knocked the air out of you. "Fuck you are so warm and tight even though I fucked you yesterday. You always welcome me so well, mhh, baby like this, hold me like this," he whispered in a hoarse, almost lazy moan in contrast to the thrusts he was giving you. By now your brain had been disconnected.

"I fucking want you all to myself forever. You are only mine, no one can ever fuck you like I can." He pushed even deeper. "I'm yours Jisung, you're the only man for me." you moaned as you grabbed his hair with one hand, the hair that had driven you crazy all night long, and pulled it, and with the other grabbed your clit, stimulating it. "And you, my only woman," he growled, then moved your hand away and began to move his fingers quickly to facilitate your orgasm.

"Princess... Mhh I'm about to fucking cum," he moaned into your ear and then gave precise strokes inside you. "Mhh ... Jis ... m...e to...oh ..." you cried out, only to come in warm spurts onto his hand and he cums into you. But he did not come out of you, rather he overpowered you and resumed his thrusts, overstimulating you as he rode out his orgasm. "Fuck your walls always so warm and welcoming to me, let's rock all night baby." He growled.

And so you fucked until dawn, rocking all night long.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @skzswife @weareapackofstrays @h0n3yj4y @ilychee08 @minnieprincess85 @palindrome969 @chartrucewhore @luvyev @jisunglyricist @notevenheretbh1 @chillichillicrabcrab23 @redstayrosie @hyunjinslefttoe @xxstrayland 🥰

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[star-suh]

Make You Mine

Lee Donghyuck x Male Reader

cw: sub top haechan, power bottom reader, mentions of blood, sacrifice, marking, bareback, multiple rounds, nipple play, breeding, spit swallowing, slapping, rough sex, feminization, hair pulling, spanking,

an: inspired by madison beer's make you mine mv and the movie jennifer's body.

yn has always been the outcast at the university, the mean boys of his class always bullied him, throwing away his things in the trash or even to the point of physical violence. in that group of bullies is haechan, yn’s crush, but he doesn’t do anything to stop his friends for harming him. he’s that typical angel like face boy who claims he’s a good one but it’s just a farce, a mask he puts on when others are around. “i love you but i hate you” yn regrets every night recalling the memories of his crush. one night while walking towards his house from the convenience store yn is abducted by some guys that put a clothe with some liquid on his mouth. he tried to scream for help but not a single sound came from his mouth, they then put him inside a black van.

he then wakes up tied to a tree surrounded by candles and a big pentagram, “what the hell” he says while feeling dizzy, “what’s happening?”. “oh hey he is awake” one of the guys tell to the others and that’s when yn realizes that the guys that kidnapped him were his bullies and in between them is haechan, “are you scared, little lamb?” one of them asks. “w-what?..” yn starts to get desperate, the tight ropes burning on his skin, “let me go.. this .. this isn’t f-funny” he starts to panic and yell for help. “shush” one of them put his index finger on yn’s mouth, “we need you come on, don’t let us down”, “need me for what?”goosebumps take over his body, the fear intensified when one of them pulls out a dagger, “you see we want money, cars, the chicks but none of that would come to us if we keep being like this, studying doesn’t take you nowhere” he points the dagger towards yn “unless you have someone that can move his influences for you to get something so.. we choose the easy way” he licks the dagger and immediately afterwards he stabs yn “a deal with the devil, we just needed a virgin so you were the perfect choice” he pulls out the object and as if it was a fountain blood splashed everywhere, some of it even falling on haechan’s shoes. each one took turns to stab yn, he was trying to tell them something but he couldn’t, the pain was unbearable. they basically showered in his blood but not forgetting to place 5 cups full of his blood on each point of the pentagram. once again, as always yn felt disappointed in haechan as he died slowly, he was just there watching how his friends were having the time of his life killing an innocent…

next day in class the gang of bullies were acting as if nothing happened but haechan was the only one feeling preoccupied, the guilt was eating him. the door opens and what they saw made their skin crawl in fear, it was yn but not the same shy outcast yn, he was.. hot?. his hair was styled differently leaving his forehead uncovered, his clothes weren’t baggy anymore they were tight, leaving nothing to the imagination, it also showed them he was hiding a big ass down there, “that’s a big cake” one of the bullies murmured despite feeling fear. yn saw them and smiled at them, leaving them with their mouths open.

wanting to know what happened to him, who was supposed to be bug’s food by now, the gang of bullies decided to have a one night stand with him and get as many answers as possible out of him. something yn has already thought about so it made it easier for him to plot a revenge against them.

the next few weeks each one of the bullies disappeared ’’’’mysteriously’’’’, their bodies were found near the forest or in old abandoned houses. the first and only theory by now is that they were attacked by some wild animal due to their ripped bodies by what it seems are claws and razor sharp fangs, so all the town decided to hunt these so called monster, not knowing the real one was among them. haechan suspected from yn because the only ones dying were the ones who took part in that ritual, and he was the next and last one of the gang. he avoided yn all he could, he even sleeps with a gun next to his bed now, how did he got it? no one cares. one day he decided to follow yn after classes to try to confirm his suspicions. yn was moving further and further away from the city and into the abandoned houses where one of his friends was found. haechan enters the same house yn entered and carefully to not make any sound he pulls the gun out and points it at anything that made a sound. his hands were shaking, fear taking over his body, “hey haechan” yn abruptly greeted him, making him shoot at him, “be careful with that, stupid” yn said with some anger in his tone.

“i know you’re the one behind that killing spree” he blurted out, “you’re supposed to be dead” he yells at yn “what are you?”.

“i’m yn silly. well… a better version of him actually” the calmness of his voice sending shivers down haechan’s spine “thanks to those bastards you used to call friends” he laughs “they did something good in their life at least” he walks towards haechan, “stop or i’ll shoot” he says desperately. yn storms towards haechan putting the cold metal of the gun right at his chest “i dare you to do it, but would you be able to?” his iris turning white and his pupil into a slit like when a feline is chasing a prey “thought so” haechan can feel the disappointment in his voice “you’re just a pussy haechannie” he takes a deep breath and yells “you’ve never been able to do something on your own” slapping haechan’s hand making him throw the gun away. haechan falls to the floor and crawls away from yn “what the fuck are you?” he asks once again, yn crouches down and starts to walk sensually in all fours, chasing haechan “you’re stupid ass friends offered me in sacrifice thinking i was a virgin but i wasn’t” haechan’s back hits against a wall and yn corners him, his face now on the side of haechan’s “you shouldn’t assume other’s sexual life, channie” he whispers.

haechan felt mesmerized, was he wrong for liking this side of yn?, maybe this is his punishment for not doing anything to stop his friends bullying yn. he was ready to be ripped into pieces to death but instead he felt kisses?, yn’s lips latched against his neck already leaving hickeys on it. “w-what” he moaned, “all this foreplay made me so horny haechannie” yn admits putting his hand on haechan’s growing bulge, “it wasn’t a foreplay dumb bitch i was trying to kill you” yn talks back. “seeing you trying to act all manly fuckkkk… my ass is itching for you and your friend here looks like he wants it too” he grabs the bulge hard drawing a loud moan out of the other’s mouth…

“you’re being such a good boy channie” yn spoke while riding haechan’s rock hard cock, “hmm?” haechan asks, his face buried in between yn’s chest sucking his nipples, “yeah” yn reassures. haechan also grabs yn’s dick and put it against his toned abs so he can rub it there while he rides, “those abs are making my dick feel so good channie, i wanna paint them in white”, “please” he begs already falling into submission.

“be a fucking man and pound me hard” yn demands slapping haechan’s cheek, haechan’s pace grow faster and faster, his dick reaching parts no one has ever reached before “yes yes right there! fuhh..” he lets out all the air, feeling haechan brushing his prostate. “fuck i’m gonna cum” haechan cries, emptying his load inside yn, after he rode his high he tries to pull out but yn clenches his hole hard with a superhuman strength, not letting the other’s dick to go away “we’re not done here” he licks his lips “demon pussy isn’t satisfied by just one load”.

yn rides once again haechan while spitting inside his mouth and haechan swallows it with no complaints, he was so ass drunk that the only thing that crosses his mind is to satisfy yn’s needs. “uff, yeahh… i’m gonna milk you dry channie” yn plays with his nipples and then with haechan’s, “give me your next load” he sits hard and faster and on top of that he grips again with that superhuman strength he apparently possess now overwhelming haechan in the process who couldn’t take it anymore and just lets out his sperm inside him once again. the next hours yn kept milking him until not even pre-cum came out of him, some times haechan tries to take control by pulling yn’s hair or spanking him until his ass is bright red but somehow yn always manages to take back the control and made him writhe and cry in pleasure. their hair sticking on their foreheads due to the sweat, the beads of it rolling down their bodies, especially on haechan’s abs they’re so perfect that yn could pass a whole day licking them non-stop. for the last load haechan fucked yn in a roast chicken position so he can have an easy access to his cum-filled hole. his thrusts churned the sperm inside and also caused some delicious gushy wet sounds, “yeahh keep filling this pussy up, use your own cum as lube” he pouts. after some final nasty words the last load from haechan’s balls were deposited on yn’s cumdump hole and after a kiss haechan falls tired on top of yn’s body.

haechan’s life has been spared by yn but in return he has to find new victims or at least a way to suppress yn’s hunger for human flesh and also let him use him as his human dildo, something that he didn’t mind because the sex was good and his dick feels amazing inside yn’s warm demon pussy.

[trainsinanime]

I'm not sure I have anything interesting to say about it, but I am very intrigued by the way The Locked Tomb portrays cavaliers, necromancers and lyctorhood as relationships.

First of all, Necromancer+Cavalier is a metaphor for marriage, that's obvious table stakes. It's explicitly non-romantic (or should be, anyway, in the way the society there has constructed it), but it is intense, highly devoted, starts with a vow, goes "til death do us part" ("one flesh, one end").

In the series Cavalier and Necromancer are a form of gender roles, and they map incredibly well onto the most stereotypical gender roles we have in our society. The Cavalier has stereotypical masculine traits: The fighter, the protector, up on the front lines, physically active. The Necromancer has stereotypical feminine traits: Weak, frail, but whatever the necromantic equivalent of nurturing is, with power over death and life. In the mythology and "gender roles" of the nine houses, necromancy is sort of not quite but still a bit equivalent to "the mystical power of women to bring forth life". And yes, this is all very conservative and cishet-normative and so on.

Of course the books then immediately, from moment one, subvert this on at least three different layers.

The first layer is that the feminine-coded Necromancer is the head of the deadly family in the society, and the masculine-coded Cavalier is the support, the disposable one.

The other layer is that the book distributes the roles of Necromancer and Cavalier basically randomly across the actual genders of the characters. There are male necromancers, female cavaliers, plenty of same-sex pairings and so on.

But the biggest and most important inversion is that when we first meet the nine houses, ten thousand years after a cow-murdering Twitch streamer destroyed the world, nobody actually follows that role assignment to the letter. All the different houses have very different ideas of how Necromancer and Cavalier works in practice.

For example, Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn are just straight-up married. Their work relationship is romantic, and while that's considered a bit weird by their society, it makes it clear that it can go on like this.

We are actually told that there was something going on in the second house, too, where Judith fell in love with Marta, but there she was gently rebuked and they were just friends instead.

Over in the sixth, Camilla and Palamedes have the inversion of boy necromancer and girl cavalier, but most importantly they have their own very QPR style of relationship that is unique to them and does not fit into either our society's traditional idea of romantic relationship, nor their society's traditional idea of what Necromancer and Cavalier should be like.

The seventh house leans into the frail necromancer/strong protector idea the most, except for [spoilers for the final third of Gideon].

The eighth house leans fully into the idea that the relationship is one-sided, that the cavalier is disposable, and jumps straight off the deep end by making the cavalier genetically bred to be nothing more than a power source.

The third house I've left out so far because, dear god, what even is going on there?

And finally, of course, the ninth, who are technically, strictly speaking, if we're following the metaphor to its logical end, doing a "fake married to lovers" plot.

So with that out of the way, let's look at Lyctorhood. Lyctorhood is fundamentally the final test, the final form of the Necromancer/Cavalier relationship as embedded in that society: The Cavalier has completely dissolved in the marriage, making their "spouse" all-powerful, but ending their own existence. That's the standard of the society as presented to the characters when they discover it, and all of them very quickly have their own ideas about it..

Most characters we know from Canaan House don't actually get that far (and to be fair, I think many of them would not have anything that interesting to say about it), but the ones who do are interesting:

Ianthe is physically repulsed by the idea of healthy relationships, so she has no problem eating Babs for power.

Gideon and Harrow are deeply in love, deeply devoted to each other, and deeply dysfunctional in their own ways, and Harrow manages to find a way to continue a dysfunctional horrible situationship with massive communication issues into Lyctorhood.

Cam and Pal find a different thing entirely, still recognisable as a take on Lyctorhood but also not at all. Instead of one absorbing the other, they fuse into a single new person together, but also in some ways dying in the process.

And it turns out even the older lyctors may not have worked quite as originally designed, with Pyrrha Dve still hanging around in Gideon the First and then finding her own way in Nona the Ninth. Throughout Nona it becomes obvious what was hinted at throughout most of Harrow: Lyctorhood is really just one of many ways for two people to become one. It is not the purest and best form of "one flesh, one end", just the best Johnny Boy could think of. Left to their own devices, we see people left and right figure out new ways to be together as one regardless of what society and God thinks of them.

This is really a key question of the book series: What does it mean for two people to become one? Well, it's up to them, and listening to what God has to say about it is probably not the best way to go. It'll make you end up like Ianthe. Do you want to be Ianthe? Actually don't answer that.

[howtofightwrite]

For a character that virtually can’t die and regenerates in order to keep living, how do you make action interesting? Emphasize they still feel pain, why they’re doing it?

I'm actually going to step back a bit from this question first, and complement it. This is a very honest question, and something most writers who include violence in their work, should really think about. Even if you don't think you have characters like this, you do.

Now, I'm going to dunk on Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw for a moment. Ages ago (I think it was in one of his Resistance reviews), Yahtzee described, “threatening to blow up the world,” as the laziest form of raising the stakes. Because, “hey, I live on a world.” He's mostly correct. Threatening your protagonist's life is even lazier. In the vast majority of cases, your audience knows you won't go through with it. That you won't kill off your protagonists.

With that in mind, when you decide your protagonist is completely immortal, that changes less about how you write them than you might expect. The biggest difference is simply that they're directly aware of their plot armor, rather than them engaging in faux indecision based on their perceived mortality. Again, this is something that every writer who uses violence should think about, at least a bit. It is natural for a character to fear for their life, and have reservations about risking their life, but making the part where your character's lives are on the line isn't automatically suspenseful. In a lot of cases (consciously or not), your audience will call your bluff, when you threaten to kill off a major character.

If you think back to major character deaths where something drops them without warning, part of what makes those scenes work is the lack of (apparent) setup. The writer didn't spend pages teasing you with the idea, they just went for the throat and ended that character on the spot. This is more respectful of your audience, because you're not telling them, “well, I might kill this character, or I might not.”

To be clear, I'm not saying that there's no place for teasing your audience with a character's impending demise, just pointing out that in a lot of cases, this won't generate the kind of suspense you'd hope for.

So, to get back on topic, how do you make it interesting? Remember that while this character can't die, the same is not true for the characters around them. Depending on the tone you're going for, you could create an absolutely brutal crucible effect, where everyone around your immortal gets burned off, sooner or later. Whether that's literal, or figurative, is up to you. Even if your character can't die, watching people they care about suffer and die is going to have an effect on them.

You probably don't need to draw special attention to the physical pain they experience, but you do want to be aware of it. Especially in the context of how pain affects the victim's behavior. Beyond that, there is probably an element of pain being far more annoying to the immortal than it would be to a normal person. They know it's not telling them anything meaningful, but it is distracting.

Long-term, both of these can easily result in personality shifts. And, legitimately, this is a scenario where a character may be immortal, but they would still experience significant changes over time, and with the growing emotional pain, could have very adverse effects on your personality. This does have some very real, “live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” potential. How many friends can you lose before you stop caring? How many funerals can you attend before you start taking the phrase, “you're either part of the solution or part of the problem,” a little too far? How many times can you pick yourself up off the pavement a blood-covered alleyway, surrounded by corpses, before you start to forget what made you human in the first place?

And, that's not the only option. The simplest answer for maintaining tension when one of your characters is immortal is keeping your eye on what they're trying to accomplish. Keep track of their objectives, because I guarantee they can fail those. Even just keeping their own nature concealed from the mortal world is probably fairly important, because of the idea that men in hazmat suits will drag them away to some research lab and poke them until they figure out how to replicate their immortality, is a classic (and potentially plausible) threat. (Bonus points, if you're wanting to loop in something like the medieval inquisitions, or some other secret societies that could pose this kind of a threat.)

So, what do you do? To dig out an old cliché threat, “there are fates worse than death,” and it's probably worth exploring them. This also opens up new possibilities for threats. Finally, it's worth remembering that immortality does not guarantee success. If your character is hoping for that, it might be time to give them a very harsh lesson.

-Starke

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[writingwithfolklore]

Monsters and Creatures

              I love a good monster—who doesn’t? Monsters can be easy antagonists in survival, horror, fantasy (or really any genre) to pose a threat to characters and incite conflict to keep the plot plotting. So how do we create a believable monster? The key is in consideration of the creature’s biology.

Before we get into it, I have an important point:

1. Yes, make them monstrous—but don’t vilify human features

One trend I really hate right now is analog horror using “fake humans” as dangerous, horrible monsters. While I love a doppelganger, what this genre has unfortunately really leaned into is using physical deformations and other natural human features to distinguish between the “good, safe” people and the “bad, dangerous” people.

I’m sure you can see why that’s not okay. Good, loveable, safe, kind and real people have physical deformities, and by only portraying them as evil or monsters in media, these tropes perpetuate harmful thinking towards disability and deformities. Media has never really made progress in being rid of this stereotype, and unfortunately it seems we’re going in the complete opposite direction we should be.

Don’t vilify normal human features. Please.

Okay onto the actual creation:

2. What, how, and how often do they eat?

Likely the first thing you’ll consider when creating a monster, and usually what determines if they’re a threat to humans or relatively harmless.

Is your creature a carnivore, omnivore, or herbivore?

How much do they have to eat? Don’t be fooled by bigger=more, hummingbirds have to eat up to 3x their body weight in food per day because they burn calories, and lions can use one hunt to sustain them for several days.

How do they consume food? Do they have sharp teeth, or tear apart with their claws first? If they’re an omnivore, they need flat, strong molars for breaking down plants as well as sharp front teeth for meat. Do they consume via mouth, tube, or other appendage?

Determine their usual diet when there are no human characters around to hunt.

How do they hunt? Do they have the ability to "clever girl" their prey? What do they use to their advantage in their environment?

2. Where do they live?

Were they grown in a lab? If so, where were the scientists intending to put them, or what were they built for?

Are they supposed to blend in with their surroundings or others of their species? (Think many types of fish, or zebras) Or are they made to stand out (such as brightly coloured fish that are poisonous)

A creature who lives in a green, lush forest that gets heavy rain often is going to look a lot different than one who lives in the desert. Consider how they’d be built to survive their environment and climate.

3. What are their social instincts?

Do they have pack instincts? Or are they solo?

If they do have pack instincts, will they bond with humans? Or other creatures of different species?

What do they do with their young or family?

How do they find a mate to reproduce?

What do they do if they come across another of their species? Or an animal of another species?

4. What do they use to defend themselves?

Are they poisonous to their predators? Do they have a hard shell or quick reflexes?

Consider what might pose a threat to them in their environment, and what they’ve developed to defend themselves against that threat.

If they are the apex predator, consider what they have that makes them so effective in their environment.

5. What are their vulnerabilities?

Or another way to put it--how can they be killed?

Do they bleed? Is chocolate or another food poisonous to them?

Do you need a specific weapon or technique to harm them?

Anything I missed?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

could you do a yandere demon mitsuri or shinobu with a demon slayer darling

Demon Slayer Reader in Reverse AU | Yandere KNY

In this alternate universe the hashira are the equivalents of the Upper Moons. Unbelievably strong, incredibly devious, and just as responsible for innumerable deaths as their creator. You on the other hand are like Tanjiro Kamado, a demon slayer dutifully following the orders of Muzan as he’s determined to finally stop the rampant killing that those demons do. But there’s something special about you. Something that the demons just can’t deny. That has them persistently chasing you their greater their connection to their beloved creator. Maybe it’s the blood of their kin, or your kissable lips, or the curses you mutter as your sword doesn’t slice through their necks. Either way they are down-bad:

Mitsuri Kanroji

Turned after being rejected for her strength and differences

Now she uses them to eat scores of humans particularly the most bland people she can find

Can you believe just how few people she actually loves?

Too few people are special because of their differences or physical traits

Which means she’s happily devour all those who don’t which is a lot

She of course claims it’s love at first sight when she sees you

It really can be something as simple as a colorful hanafuda or being deaf

Anything unique to you makes her weak in her knees

“You’re making me so happy just to have met you! I love you!”

So busy fawning over you, she barely misses your swing

Stronger than others she only falls for you deeper

In her twisted mind the blood of Ubuyashiki makes beautiful people of his divine choice even more beautiful 

Thus her mission when fighting you is to turn you

So she can have your beauty be eternal

“Don’t avoid me for long my Love! I’m going to make you perfect soon!’

The biggest challenge other than her flexibility, the cherry blossom flooded air, and her insane physical strength is her beau

Rarely does the Demon Moon of Love leave without the Demon Moon of Snakes in tow

And while for your first meetings he definitely is not trying to keep you alive for the change

After he get’s to know you and a nice talk that involves lot’s of dying lower rank demon slayers they’ll both be on the same page

Which will spell absolute doom for you as the conniving duo is not going to bother being upfront 

They’ll scheme

They’ll plot 

Hold your tsugoko or friends from up high as they take advantage of your heightened emotions

“I want to love you forever and ever and ever. And no one is going to stop me! Not even you”

Shinobu Kocho

She was turned along with her sister who Ubuyashiki saved after she fell ill

For years prior she had devoted herself to science, to medicine only for it to fail her at every turn 

Only when she incorporated the great Ubuyashiki’s blood into her creations does she find proper results good results

And she is praised with having so many willing addicted meals and servants to offer as she produces her remedies for masses

Interacting with prey so often gives her a better way to hide and know about the demon slayer’s actions

And amateur slayers that come into her shop swords drawn are usually bullied by the surrounding towns folk

All to be beaten up and kicked out of the town becoming easy pickings at that point

She thought she’d do the same to you

By the way you walked she could sense your power and her mortal end coming closer

But you didn’t attack

Surrounded by many of her loyal customers you ask that she try the contents of a vial to tell what it is

Since it’s suspicious to the people you offer to drink it, another villager drinks it

“You’re the greatest medic in this region. Won’t you tell me what it is and where to find it?”

It’s Wisteria

Potent and poisonous wisteria 

Here shinobu is faced with a choice

Attack you ruin her reputation and have to deal with a mob

Or…

drink it and writhe revealing her demon form to be attacked by the mob

“You think you’re a cunning little butterfly don’t you. Flashing your poisonous colors at me. You aren’t aware of the hunger you’ve aroused in me!”

She wasn’t happy as a human with the limits she had

So she doesn’t choose any of those options opting to kill everyone 

You block the attack finding out it’s a feint for her to run away 

Run away with a snarl that she hasn’t shown for hundreds of years

How dare you!? 

Ruining her perfect system 

When she reports to the Ubuyashiki compound by night she’s got her head down low while reporting 

As expected she was chewed out not only by The Ubuyashiki but the Upper Moons as well 

And there is one person she blames above all for her shame

“That despicable little demon slayer!! I’m going to make them pay!”

Her hatred for you becomes a widely welcomed truth among the other demons

Hanging your whereabouts above her head 

As she snaps at them like a snarling dog

But her hatred is not simply that

She wants to own you 

To hold your face as she successfully demonstrates her mass attack absorbing all within the vicinity 

To clip your pretty little wings and delight in your forbidden flavor for as long as possible

When one of her colleagues theonesheclaimsshehatesthemost pressures her she’s rambling to him about how she’d never want to actually kill you nor turn you completely into a demon like she

“They’re not good enough for Master…but it’d be a shame for such a beautiful butterfly to die so quickly.”

So she’ll turn to science

Once again using her expertise to craft some serum that she plans to keep you attached to for the rest of your not-so mortal life

She’ll use her own blood measuring and testing how little is needed to give you the best parts of being a demon

She knows the clock is ticking as your life goes on

So she’ll be excited to track you down, learning as much as she can about you

Almost as much fun as she’ll enjoy making simple humans that remind her of you as test subjects

She’d even be willing to get help from one of the Upper Moons with her hunt for you

“I hope your ready for a change, butterfly! There’s nothing I can’t do without his blood.”