#MY WHOLE BODY IS BURNING GODDAMMIT

[killer-blowmybrain]

Mmnnn gng h hh hbbgb bgbgbb ttthggfgrfd m myboddyy my body BURNNNSSSSSS SAAAAGAGGAAGFGSGHHHHHHFFHFH

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - seven, finale mafia! charles leclerc x wife! reader ( angst -> fluff ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.

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THE SHARP STING of Max’s grip on your arm felt secondary to the roaring in your ears, your mind a whirlwind of panic, grief, and fury.

Your body moved on instinct, twisting in his grasp, yanking yourself free with a strength fueled by desperation. You stumbled back, breath ragged, before you spun and bolted toward the glass doors.

Your hand flew to your holster as you ran, pulling out your gun in one smooth motion. Without thinking, you raised it and fired. The gunshot rang through the room, but the bullet only left a faint smudge against the glass. It was bulletproof.

Your stomach twisted with panic as the realization hit you. Of course it was. You had ordered for it to be reinforced, to be bullet proof. You were the one who had insisted on the security measures. How could you be so stupid?

A sigh sounded from behind you, almost amused.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Max’s voice was infuriatingly calm.

You didn’t answer, fumbling for the door handle instead. Your fingers trembled as you wrenched it open, just about to bolt outside, but Max was faster.

His arm snaked around your waist, yanking you backward with ease. You struggled, clawing at his grip, but it was useless. He was stronger, more composed, while your panic was consuming you.

“No, no, no—let me go!” Your voice cracked as you thrashed against him, your eyes darting to where Charles had fallen.

You had to get to him.

You needed to get to him.

Your breath hitched, coming in short, sharp gasps as the walls seemed to close in around you. Your lungs felt tight, your vision tunneling. Everything blurred into flashes of movement—Max’s hands, the blood outside, the reflection of your own horror-stricken face in the glass.

Your knees buckled.

Max’s grip loosened, shifting from restraint to something softer. His palm smoothed over your hair, a quiet hush leaving his lips as he tried to steady you. “Breathe, schatje,” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Just breathe.”

His touch should have burned. His concern should have been meaningless. But your body was betraying you, collapsing into his hold as if he were your only tether to reality. Your hands curled into his jacket, struggling for air, your mind screaming at you to move, to fight, to—

The weight of the gun in your hand grounded you.

With whatever strength you had left, you lifted your arm, pressing the barrel firmly against Max’s chest.

“Back. Off.”

Max gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as he stared you down, unflinching.

You didn’t hesitate. You turned the gun, aiming past his shoulder, and fired.

The vase behind him shattered on impact, shards of glass exploding across the floor.

Max didn’t even flinch. His lips pressed together, something dark flickering behind his blue eyes.

Then, his composure cracked.

“Why are you fighting me?” he snapped, stepping closer, forcing you back a step. His presence was suffocating, overwhelming. “I could give you everything, Yn! Charles already failed to protect you. You think he’s the better choice? You think he can keep you safe when he couldn’t even save himself?”

Your grip on the gun tightened. “I don’t need to be saved, Max. I need to be free to make my own damn choices!”

He let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Then choose me!” His voice was raw now, anger laced with something desperate. “I love you, goddammit! I’ve always loved you—”

“You don’t love me,” you spat, eyes burning with fresh tears. “You’re obsessed. With me. With the idea of us. With what we could have been. But you don’t love me—”

Max cut you off the only way he knew how.

His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your words with a kiss so fierce, so consuming, it left you breathless.

But you didn’t melt into it. You didn’t.

Instead, you shoved him away, scrambling back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand like his touch was poison. Your fingers trembled as you lifted your gun again, this time pressing it firmly against his head.

Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “We both know you won’t do it,” he muttered.

Your jaw clenched. “You know me well enough to know that I hate guns. But maybe, just maybe—” Your voice cracked, tears spilling down your cheeks as you pressed the barrel harder against his skull. “Maybe I’ll give myself a free pass.”

Max raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Just to return the favour,” Your breath shuddered. “Because you shot my husband.”

For a moment, he laughed. A low, humorless chuckle.

Then—

BANG.

Max’s body jerked violently as the bullet tore through his right hip.

He let out a sharp, pained grunt, staggering back as his hand clutched at the wound, blood soaking through his pants. His face contorted with shock, then anger, then something else—something almost impressed.

But you didn’t stay to see what else he had to say.

You turned and ran.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you burst into the next room, your feet skidding against the floor as you found Charles.

He was on the ground, slumped against the wall, his white shirt stained crimson, but—

He was breathing.

Your knees hit the floor beside him, hands immediately pressing down on his chest to stop the bleeding.

“Charles,” you gasped, your vision blurring. “Stay with me. Stay with me.”

A weak chuckle rasped past his lips. “Merde, you’re loud.”

You let out a half-sob, half-laugh, shaking your head as you fought to keep the pressure firm. “Don’t joke right now, Charles. You were shot—”

He exhaled, his free hand reaching up to brush your hair back from your face. “And yet, I’m still here,” he murmured, a lazy sile playing at his lips. His thumb stroked your cheek. “I must be lucky.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I thought I lost you.”

His fingers curled weakly around your wrist. “I’d never leave you, mon amour. Don’t worry, I’ll live.”

Your heart clenches, a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you.

Then—because only Charles could do this in the middle of bleeding out—he looked up at you, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You know,” he rasped, “I was so close to death . . . and I’ve never tasted my wife’s cooking.”

Your brows furrowed. “Charles, what—”

His lips curled into a teasing smirk. “I’m just saying. A near-death experience should at least get me a homemade meal.”

A breathless laugh bubbled past your lips.

He was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

And yet, as you looked at him—alive, breathing, yours—you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

THE MEN WORKED in silence, their quiet efficiency doing little to erase the chaos that had unfolded. The house was a wreck—shattered glass glinting under the dim lights, streaks of blood smeared across the floors, and, most notably, a passed-out Max Verstappen sprawled across your living room like some ridiculous war prize.

Outside, beneath the vast stretch of midnight sky, Charles lay with his head in your lap, his freshly stitched wound stark against his pale skin. You hadn’t moved him from where he’d fallen in the grass—too shaken to let go, too afraid to lift your hands from the proof that he was still here, still breathing.

His eyes were half-lidded, weighed down with exhaustion, but his lips curled into that infuriatingly familiar smirk. "You know, mon amour, the least you could do is handle things for me, considering I was shot."

You scoffed, threading your fingers through his hair, letting them linger just a little too long to sell your irritation. "Right, because getting yourself shot was such an ordeal."

"It was," he murmured, tilting his head into your touch like a spoiled cat. "I had to take a bullet, fall dramatically, make sure you were sufficiently distressed... Très difficile."

You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, your free hand moved instinctively, waving one of the men over. You whispered instructions, giving orders in Charles's place, and he hummed in amusement as you did. Even half-conscious and bleeding, he found a way to be entertained.

Eventually, the villa emptied, the weight of the night settling over you both like a heavy quilt. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth mixing with the lingering tang of blood. Somewhere in the distance, the world carried on—frogs croaking, waves rolling in, the faint hum of cicadas. Above you, the stars stretched wide and endless, like silent witnesses to the wreckage of the evening.

Your fingers never stopped moving, tracing slow circles against his scalp. Charles let out a quiet sigh, a sound of deep, aching contentment, as if this moment—just you, just him—was enough to wash away the pain.

Then—

BONG.

The sharp, eerie toll of the grandfather clock cut through the stillness.

You both jolted like startled children, eyes snapping toward the house. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then, Charles groaned.

"That stupid clock—"

Laughter bubbled up before you could stop it, light and breathless, and then Charles's followed—low and raw in his chest. It was absurd, all of it. The blood, the bodies, the sheer ridiculousness of getting spooked by an old clock after everything that had happened.

You wiped at your eyes, giggling. "Scared of the clock now?"

Charles huffed, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. "I don’t like surprises, ma belle."

You leaned down, brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat, your words murmured against his skin. "This is no surprise, Charles. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

The clock struck again.

And again.

Twelve times in total.

Midnight.

Your laughter faded, but the warmth lingered as you gazed down at him. Charles met your eyes, the teasing edge in his expression softening into something quieter, something deeper. Slowly, he reached up, fingers ghosting along your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, your own hand finding his jaw.

And then, you kissed.

Midnight. The stars. And you.

[storyofyourlife-withavengers]

“Stop Looking at me Like That”

[ Bucky Barnes x Reader ]

The gas hits you first.

One second you're kicking open a rusted HYDRA lab door, and the next, a hiss of pressure and a cloud of shimmering pink bursts in your face like a perfume bomb.

You stagger back coughing, nine tails flaring in defense. “Shit, gas!”

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice is sharp and urgent, footsteps pounding toward you. “Are you—”

“Don't come closer!” you snap, holding one hand up while the other grips the wall.

Too late.

You catch his scent as soon as he rounds the corner. Gunmetal, pine, a whisper of sweat and something darkly sweet like aged whiskey. Your knees nearly buckle. Your mouth goes dry. Your body heats like a live wire plugged into a storm.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“What?” He’s beside you now, scanning for injuries. “Are you hit?”

“Worse.” You groan, sliding down to sit on the cold tile. “I’ve been dosed.”

“With what?”

You suck in a ragged breath. “Aphrodisiac gas.”

Bucky just stares at you. “I’m sorry, what?”

“HYDRA’s getting real creative with their chem warfare lately.”

He blinks. “You sure?”

You lift your face, already flushed, sweat beading at your temple. “Does it look like I’m lying?”

Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, golden glow humming faintly at the tips of your ears and tails. You shift, thighs pressing together.

Bucky makes a strangled noise and takes a step back. “Okay. Alright. Um. Is there an antidote?”

“Nope.” You pant, dragging in a slow inhale. “Just gotta wait for it to metabolize. A few hours.”

“Hours?!”

You nod, fanning your collar. “And it’s getting worse. My whole body’s vibrating. I can smell you.”

Bucky swallows hard. “Okay, just stay calm. We’ve dealt with worse than this. You’re a mystical fox goddess or whatever. Meditate or something.”

“You think I haven’t tried?!” Your voice cracks, almost a whimper. “It’s in my blood. Every part of me is screaming for contact.”

His hands hover awkwardly near you, unsure whether to help or run. “Okay, you just need space. I’ll call for evac.”

“You’ll leave me here?!”

“I—! No! I just—”

You lurch forward suddenly, face pressing into his chest, and he yelps.

“Don’t move,” you whisper against his sternum. “You smell like safety and sex and steel. I hate it.”

“Please stop talking.”

You slide lower until you’re curled at his knees, forehead pressed against his thigh. Bucky looks skyward like he’s praying for lightning to strike him down.

“Y/N,” he grits. “You said not to let you charm me.”

“I’m not charming you. This is not on purpose. Do you think I want to sound like a horny anime character?!”

He grabs your shoulders and carefully peels you off. “You’re burning up.”

“No kidding.”

“Okay. Deep breaths. Just sit.”

You try. Really. You do.

But when he crouches beside you to check your pulse, the sheer heat of his proximity makes your whole body thrum.

“I hate how good you smell,” you whisper, dazed. “I’d lick your jaw clean if you let me.”

He freezes. “Y/N.”

“I’m being honest.”

“Be less honest.”

You lean forward, eyes glowing faint gold now. “You have no idea how loud your aura is right now. It’s like drowning in you.”

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to consume me.”

“I do.”

“Goddammit!”

He stumbles to his feet and bolts across the room like you’re radioactive. You dissolve into delirious laughter, then hiss through your teeth when another wave of heat rolls through your veins.

You shed your jacket, shivering despite the sweat. “I am going to combust.”

“Just, just breathe,” Bucky mutters, pacing. “Meditate. Think cold thoughts.”

“Like what? Your attitude?”

He glares.

You grin, teeth sharp. “Come on, Barnes. I know you get flustered.”

“I do not!”

“You’re redder than the Widow’s ledger right now.”

“Shut up.”

You sigh and slump back against the wall, fanning yourself with one tail. “This would be so much easier if I didn’t have a crush on you.”

Silence.

You realize what you said.

Bucky does too.

“What?”

You clap both hands over your mouth. “I didn’t mean—! That was supposed to stay in my head!”

He stares like you’ve grown a tenth tail. “You have a crush on me?”

You groan. “I was going to tell you in a normal setting, not while hallucinating pheromones and fighting the urge to crawl into your lap!”

He opens his mouth.

Closes it.

Opens it again.

Then: “Well, now I definitely can’t kiss you.”

“Were you planning to?!”

“No!”

You’re both silent for a long moment.

Then you burst into laughter, and for a split second, he smiles.

Eventually, the worst of the heat fades. Slow, like molasses leaving your bloodstream. Your breathing evens. Your heart rate settles.

You barely notice that Bucky is still next to you, cross-legged, one gloved hand slowly stroking a trembling tail.

You crack an eye open. “That helps.”

“I figured.” He’s not looking at you, just watching the floor. “You always quiet down when someone pets them.”

“I knew you liked them.”

“I hate that I like them.”

You smile, soft now. “You stayed.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave you like that.”

You lean your head on his shoulder.

He stiffens.

Then, slowly, relaxes.

“You still delirious?” he mutters.

“No.”

“So you remember all that?”

“Mhm.”

“Great.”

You grin. “Still not going to kiss me?”

His ears go red.

“I hate you,” he says, voice soft.

You hum, tails wrapping lazily around him. “Liar.”

See my Fox Tales Masterlist

[brittle-doughie]

Random ass skits for fun (A prequel from that skit of reforming Scorn!Y/n Cookie for funsies)

Eternal Sugar: Darling do you see this drawing? This red all over you is your badness meter. It's unusually high for a holder of compassion like you

Scorn!Y/n: (scowls at the drawing) That can't be right… 

Scorn!Y/n: (Immediately gets a red crayon and colors the whole page in red) IT SHOULD HIGHER HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Eternal Sugar: … (Face palms)

Burning Spice: (Holds burning phone) My phone is on fire

Scorn!Y/n: (Watching netflix) Oopsies~

Burning Spice: (Warrior camps on fire, followed by screams and panic of the spice swarm desperately trying to burn out the flames) My warriors are on FIRE!

Scorn!Y/n: (Playing a video game) Oopsies~

Burning Spice: (Capsaicin Cookie losing control of his spice overlord powers, now wreaking havoc in the camp) My SON is on FIRE!!

Scorn!Y/n: (Eating beascuits) Oopsies~

Burning Spice: (Sees the last remains of his (wife-) Friend’s image in body pillow form burning) MY BENEVOLENT BUTTER BODY PILLOW IS ON FIRE!!!

Scorn!Y/n: (Shrugging without care) Oopsies~

Burning Spice: (The whole fucking camp and temple is on fire) EVERYTHING I LOVE IS ON FIRE!!!!!!

Scorn!Y/n: (Grins from the destruction) Oopsies~

Burning Spice: (grabs Scorn!Y/n in the collar, shaking them in frustration) WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!?!

Shadow Milk: Hello Y/n Cookie, I Shadow Milk Cookie has arrived to cure your boredom!

Scorn!Y/n: (sighs) Goddammit I was enjoying my peace and quiet, go on tell me the joke…

Shadow Milk: (Clears his voice) Ahem! Ahem! Knock knock love!

Scorn!Y/n: ‘sigh’ who’s there?

Shadow Milk: Doo ya!

Scorn!Y/n: Doo ya who?

Shadow Milk: (kneels down as if he’s pulling out a ring but are actually flowers that read ‘wanna date?’) Doo ya want to be my girlfriend!?! :D? 

Scorn!Y/n: (Gives him a glare of disgust) Do ya wanna fuck off?

Shadow Milk: (deflates from sadness) I- ok :(

Cloud Haetae: Would you? Kick me down the stairs for 4,000,000 golden coins or- 

Scorn!Y/n: (Kicks the dog down the stairs without remorse)

Cloud Haetae: AHHHHHHHH!!! (Sounds of pain and horror gradually fading away as they descend down the stairs)

Mystic Flour: Y/n Cookie, have you seen Cloud Haetae cookie? I was waiting for them to arrive, but they haven't for the past 20 minutes…

Scorn!Y/n: No idea, by the way do you have 4 million golden coins?

Mystic Flour: First off this is a temple Y/n cookie, and second why do you need so much coins for?

Scorn!Y/n: …Nothing…

Scorn!Y/n: (Minding their own business, drinking green tea on the burnt remains of their treehouse) Finally peace and quiet…

Silent Salt: (Throws rocks at the window)

Scorn!Y/n: (Ignores it) Peace and quiet

Silent Salt: (Throwing Rocks but a little harder)

Scorn!Y/n: (Failing on ignoring it) PEACE AND QUIET…

Silent Salt: (Throwing Rocks so hard you wonder how strong Y/n cookie’s glass is)

Scorn!Y/n: tch (Opens window) WHAT DO YOU WANT!?!

Silent Salt: !!! (Prepares guitar, they have been practicing with Eternal Sugar on serenading someone) ahem… I-

Scorn!Y/n: (Immediately throws a fucking boulder at Silent Salt, crushing them Tom and Jerry style) LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE CREEP!!!

The edge is strong with this one.

[hauwtie]

trapped

i began to sob in my hands as the light plastic stick falls to the ground. my hands shake, my whole body does. how can this happen to me? actually, i know how. matter of fact, the how was standing right in front of me holding the test, with a gleeful beam on his face. i want to believe that this is just some sort of sick joke. that there's a couple of cheap cameras and some of his gang tucked away out of sight. no, this is all real. this is my life, my downfall.

my chest begins to burn and my head spins. all i hear is him, his voice. those god awful hyena-like chuckles. i lift my head up and he immediately catches my glare. he throws me the most worrisome and sincere face he can manage.

“baby,” he says, laced in poisonous honey, “baby what's wrong?”

i want to scream as he crouches down to me. as his big, warm embrace takes me and guides me to the very bed that i made the worst mistake of my life on. he knows what's wrong.

he pulls me into his arms, rests my head against his chest, and starts to attempt and lull me to peace. and, he succeeds. i didn't exactly find tranquility, but i cried until my eyes ran dry, body went numb, and mind went blank. what was i supposed to do? fight him? demand he fixes it? that won't do anything, so i bawled my heart out. for a long, long time. there would be pauses when i'd get bursts of anger and scream and cuss him out.

goddammit! or u fucking asshole!!

“i hate you!”, i shout, hitting him on the chest.

no matter how much i yelled or cussed at him, no matter how many times i beat on his chest or how many things i threw at him, he would always end up pulling me back into his gentle hold, kiss my head and all. i don't understand. i lean up from him a bit and stare him in his eyes. my gaze is no longer filled with animosity and rage but curiosity, and tad bit of agony. the tiny smirk and what appeared to be genuine care would have earned a spark, or maybe even a few tears, if i wasn’t so emotionally drained. i took a deep, trembling breath while i assay his face.

“why?”, i ask so lightly it almost sounded like a shudder.

his eyebrows furrow together. it's almost as if he's actually confused.

“baby, what do you mean ‘why’?” he chuckles softly, readjusting his arm around me.

i'd scoff if i could. he can't seriously be trying to bullshit with me, not right now.

“why me?” i lean into him a bit more.

he exhales quickly through his nose, almost as if he's trying to stifle a laugh.

“i love you so much,” he threw his head back, “and you don't even realize it.”

there it was.

enough to make me feel something again.

i scoff, “if you loved me, you wouldn't of done this to me.”

he raises his head as i scowl at him over my shoulder. he scoots back a bit, putting space in between us.

“done what?” he asks a pinch too playfully.

he's slowly losing his facade. soon enough he'll retreat back to his old controlling bastard self, and i'll actually have to argue. i’ll break, i always do with him. he likes it when i lose. it's his favorite game.

i shake my head, ”for fucks sake…”

he gently holds my jaw, ”darling, baby,” he pulls me closer to his face, “what did i do?”

i feel my stomach knot and throat clump from all the words i try to swallow. dear God, we haven't even started yelling at each other and i'm already breaking, no! i take a deep breath and close my eyes. in and out. i open my eyes to see his stupid, stupid, stupid face.

i open my mouth to speak but no sound follows. shit, shit, shit, shit. and then, he laughs. the fucker laughs like it's the funniest damn thing he's ever seen. something about this feels off, he wasn't this patient before. isn't he gonna snap and try and guilt trip me? what's going on?

i ponder for what feels like hours but it's only seconds until it finally hits me.

my lip quivers and tears begin to fall, “baby, please tell me this is a joke.” the distress from my eyes flows heavier as more and more panic sinks in. “y-you’re just kidding right?”

my breath hitches as he scoots back, closing in on me.

i laugh desperately in denial.

“haha, you got me. now where's the hidden camera??” i attempt to joke as my voice breaks and is ready to give out.

he dips his head at me a bit, looking at me as if i am the one doing something wrong. my mind races. what do i do? why now?

“baby,” he says sweetly caressing my right cheek, “breath”

my breaths were erratic and short, much like my thoughts. i want out. i want to leave. i want this to stop.

he pulls me closer and gives me a soft kiss on the forehead. a long kiss. long enough for me to start having another crying fit.

i wail and sniffle as he would hold me close, rocking me in his arms and listening. it got to the point that he just placed me in his lap and let me cry against his chest as he scrolled on his phone.

i lift my head from his chest and lay the side of my face against him. i cried all i could. eyes empty. the noise from his phone cut off as he turned it off and placed it to the side.

he sighs, “do you feel better?”

i don't want to answer that question. i don't want to speak, but i do.

“i-i can’t be a mother..”

[yparkwrites]

MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF

Pairing: Detective Jake x Female reader (Y/N)

Content warnings: explicit content (smut), blood, murder, killing and more to be added

Word count: 27.6k

Synopsis: Jake is a known detective, as they transfered the case to his unit of a serial killer, Y/n a police rookie will arrive to find the truth about her brother's death and unbeknownst to them, the serial killer has been with them from the start.

Publish date: January 6, 2025

Son of the mob P.SH FF Completed

MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF COMPLETED

Notes: I'm sorry it took me a long time to put this up on tumblr, I got sick and was on bed rest for almost the whole month of february and I'm still trying to get as much as rest as I can, the whole book is published on wattpad, just click MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF COMPLETED to read it.

© 2025 Y. PARK WRITES. All Rights Reserved.

tags: @strxwbloody @dreamiestay @fancypeacepersona @heeaxvhhoon @jakeswife @evjirvninvitnvrnvirivn @candypopinluv

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

1

Y/n groaned in her sleep as the bell in Jake’s apartment kept ringing. “Who the fuck is it in the middle of the night?” Y/n spoke, getting up from the bed carefully as she wore Jake’s shirt before going out of the room to get the door that keeps ringing. 

Opening the door a girl probably in her 20s was outside the door. 

“Who are you?” Y/n asked, looking at the girl confused.

“I’m Sera, Jake’s girlfriend.” She replied, introducing herself smiling at Y/n. 

“Baby why did you leave me alone in the bed,” Jake whined, back hugging Y/n with his eyes closed, not aware of the situation. Opening his eyes, he looked at the girl in front of her who’s fuming in anger. Y/n tried removing his arms from her waist but he tightened his grip on her. 

“Jake let go,” Y/n spoke in a warning tone.

“What the fuck are you doing here Sera?” Jake asked, annoyed by Sera’s presence. 

“I should be the one asking that, what the fuck is this girl doing inside your apartment, wearing your shirt while you’re only in your boxers?” Sera asked, anger laced her voice. 

Jake finally let Y/n go who ran inside his room, and locked it. 

“We fucking broke up,” Jake said, gritting his teeth. 

“Over a text,” Sera argued. 

“That was a year ago, you fucking cheated on me remember? And now you’re creating a misunderstanding between me and my girlfriend.” He argued back.

“Jake, I never broke up with you, how can you cheat on me,” Sera said, tears pooling her eyes.

“You’re fucking crazy, I broke up with you a year ago, now fucking leave before I call the cops on you oh wait my girlfriend is an officer, I can ask her to arrest you.” Jake argued as Sera left the place stomping her feet defeated. 

Jake sighed, not knowing how to face Y/n. Jake knocked on their now shared room.

“Y/n open up, let me explain.” Jake pleaded. “If you don’t open this door, I’m gonna fucking break it,” Jake said. 

Hearing the door lock clicked open he didn’t wait anytime to open the door and take Y/n in his embrace. 

“That’s my ex baby,” Jake said, sitting down at the edge of the bed as he put Y/n in his lap, leaving kisses on her forehead. 

“She said she’s your girlfriend.” Y/n argued. 

“Look at me, we broke up a year ago, I mean I did, over a text when I found out she was cheating on me with someone else,” Jake said, holding her cheeks with his hands making her look at him.

“I love you,” Y/n mumbled.

“Baby, I’d let the world burn for you.” Jake replied, as he pulled her with him inside the blanket, making sure she went back to sleep. Jake rubbed her back, until they both drifted to dreamland again. 

2

“Goddammit, I swear to god if I catch this serial killer, I’m gonna kill him myself!” Heeseung exclaimed as their department got busy. Phones ringing here and there, new information of dead bodies being found being reported every 5 minutes.

“Damn, he went on no killing for a week and now he went on a killing spree,” Sunoo added on Heeseung’s statement. 

“Damn it, I only had 3 hrs of sleep, what the fuck is going on!?” Riki asked, arriving at their busy department. 

“The serial killer went on a killing spree, there’s already 5 reports of dead bodies found.” Jungwon responded as he continued to type on his computer. 

“We’re here!” Y/n exclaimed as she entered with Jake and Sunghoon. “What’s the update?” She asked.

“5 dead bodies confirmed,” Jungwon replied, still busy typing on his computer. Y/n glanced over at Sunghoon who has a big smirk on his face. 

“We have 2 more dead bodies, damn it!” Heeseung exclaimed. “Jake and Y/n go to the hospital and check the bodies, Jungwon stays here with Sunoo and answers the calls, Riki you’re coming with me at the scenes. And update me on other reports.” Heeseung ordered. 

“What about me?” Sunghoon asked. 

“Try to look for witnesses, Sunoo and Jungwon can give you info on that.” Heeseung replied before quickly leaving with Riki following behind him.

“Let’s go,” Y/n told Jake as she dragged him with her. 

Y/n and Jake went inside the car as quickly as they could. Y/n started the engine. 

“The fuck is wrong with Sunghoon?” Y/n asked as she focused her eyes on the road. 

“That’s what you called revenge,” Jake responded. 

“He went on a killing spree! And how did he even know that they’re all criminals!?” Y/n exclaimed, her eyes still focused on the road.

“Sunghoon prepares everything beforehand, and once I heal it’s my turn,” Jake replied.

Y/n diverted her attention on Jake who’s busy smirking to himself. 

“What if you get caught?” Y/n asked.

“I won’t, unless you tell on me,” Jake replied, chuckling.

Y/n just looked at him annoyed as she went back to focus on the road to arrive at the hospital as fast as they could. 

3

The hospital is also busy, there are reporters everywhere. Arriving at the hospital, Y/n and Jake entered.

“Wait, aren’t you Mr. Detective?” One of the reporters asked loudly, making everyone divert their attention to us.

“Mr. Detective, please tell us about the gun attack the other day,” one of the reporters said.

“Excuse me but we’re on duty and we don’t have time to answer any of those stupid questions, now if you’ll excuse us,” Y/n blurted, clearly annoyed by the situation. As they tried to leave, one of the reporters asked again, “Wait, you’re Officer Park’s little sister, please tell us about the attack,” one of the reporters stated loudly again, the reporters now surrounding them.

“Ouch!” Jake exclaimed, one of the reporters accidentally hitting his still healing wound on his shoulder.

“I SAID WE’RE ON FUCKING WORK! GODDAMMIT!” Y/n yelled at them, starting to push everyone out of their way as she pulled Jake with her. 

“Damn this reporter, can’t they mind their own business instead of meddling with our lives,” Y/n spoke. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad,” Jake said.

“Not now Jake, or I won’t let you touch me for a month,” Y/n said. 

“Oh come on, I was just joking, chill a little bit,” Jake replied.

4

“The serial killer went on a killing spree today,” Mr. Lazio said, eating breakfast with his son and Mr. Kim. 

“The serial killer only takes down criminals whose charges were dropped. We can actually use him to be our gunman,” Mr. Kim suggested. 

“If you can find him, we’ll hire him right son,” Mr. Lazio declared, glancing at his son. 

“I don’t care about him, I told you what I want,” his son replied, glaring at him.

“Son, I would’ve brought her here, but she’s a threat to us, she knows way too much.” Mr. Lazio argued.

“I want Park Y/n! She’s fucking mine!” His son yelled, banging his hand on the table.

“Jay Lazio, calm down, she’s already taken by none other than Mr. Detective, Sim Jaeyun,” Mr. Lazio said.

“Then kill him,” Jay replied, before leaving. 

CHAPTER 11

1

It’s been a month since the serial killer went on a killing spree and since that night happened, more dead bodies had been found, and their department became very busy. 

“Damn this serial killer, how can this serial killer be this smart?” Jungwon asked himself, as he continued to type his report to submit to their academy. “And I hate to say it, but it’s very quiet,” he added.

“Oh you did not,” Riki said, gritting his teeth and just then their phone started ringing with the arrival of Y/n inside their department. 

“That word is ban here Jungwon,” Y/n said, taking a seat in her chair not forgetting to greet Riki, who hasn’t talked to her since he arrived from his vacation. 

“Y/n, you go to the crime scene, Riki and Sunoo in the hospital and Jungwon stays here with me.” Heeseung, their chief, ordered. 

“Damn, I’ve never gone to the crime scene alone.” Y/n said, grabbing her car keys. 

“You could’ve sent me with Y/n, you know,” Jungwon said, staring at Heeseung who’s busy writing another report of the dead body found near an abandoned alley. 

“I can’t, you both are rookies, I’ll get in trouble.” Heeseung replied, still focusing on his report.

“Won’t you get more in trouble for sending a rookie alone, at the crime scene,” Jungwon said as Heeseung diverted his attention to him before cursing to himself. 

“Fuck, you should’ve started with that,” Heeseung retorted before making a phone call. 

“Oh by the way, I haven’t seen Mr. Lee for weeks now, what happened to him?” Jungwon asked.

“He’s just busy,” Heeseung responded.

“But shouldn’t he be working here with us,” Jungwon replied back.

“He’s a general, he has other works too,” Heeseung argued. “And besides, whenever he’s here, Y/n always fights with him, and if he finds out that Y/n filed to open Jay’s case, he’s gonna go nuts.” He added.

“I feel bad for Y/n though, imagine having to get through that type of pain, losing her parents at such a young age, then suddenly after turning 18 she just suddenly lost her only family.” Jungwon stated. 

“What do you know about Jay?” Heeseung suddenly asked, taking Jungwon off guard. 

“What do you mean what do I know about him?” Jungwon replied nervously.

“I don’t know, you’ve known Y/n for more than 2 years, maybe she told you something,” Heeseung replied.

“She won’t even tell me why she wanted to become a police officer, and you’re asking me what I know about her brother,” Jungwon replied back, chuckling nervously. 

Heeseung studied Jungwon's face for a moment before returning his attention to his report. "Just make sure you keep an eye on Y/n. She's been through a lot, and this case is getting to her."

Jungwon nodded, his mind racing with thoughts about Y/n and Jay. He had never seen Y/n as vulnerable as she had been since the serial killings started. And while she never spoke much about her brother, Jungwon could see the pain in her eyes whenever his name was mentioned.

2

Meanwhile, Y/n was driving to the crime scene, trying to push away the nagging feeling of unease. She had always been determined and strong, but something about this case felt different. She pulled up to the taped-off area, her stomach knotting at the sight of the flashing lights and bustling officers.

As she got out of her car, an officer approached her. "Officer Y/n, I'm Officer Kim. We've secured the scene, but it's not pretty."

Y/n nodded, taking a deep breath before following him to the body. The victim was a young woman, her lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. Y/n felt a pang of sadness but steeled herself. She had a job to do.

"Any witnesses?" she asked, pulling out her notebook.

"Just a couple of people who found the body. They're pretty shaken up," Officer Kim replied.

Y/n sighed, looking around for any clues the killer might have left behind. "Alright, I'll start with the witnesses. Keep the area secure and make sure the forensics team has everything they need."

Back at the department, Jungwon was restless. He hated being stuck behind a desk while Y/n was out there, facing the dangers of the crime scene alone. He glanced over at Heeseung, who was still engrossed in his report.

"Chief, is there anything else I can do? Maybe go through the files again or help with the analysis?" Jungwon asked.

Heeseung looked up, thinking for a moment. "Actually, yes. Why don't you dig into the victim profiles again? See if you can find any connections we might have missed. And keep your phone on in case Y/n needs backup."

Jungwon nodded, feeling a sense of purpose as he dived into the files. He meticulously went through each victim's background, looking for any patterns or links that could help them catch the killer.

Hours passed, and the department was a hive of activity. Riki and Sunoo returned from the hospital, their faces grim. "The latest victim's family is devastated. They said she had no enemies, no reason for anyone to target her," Sunoo reported.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This killer is a ghost. No clear motive, no connections. It's like they're picking victims at random."

Just then, Jungwon's phone buzzed. It was Y/n. "Jungwon, I’m coming back, something’s wrong with this case."

“What did you find Y/n?” Heeseung asked, as soon as she arrived at their department. 

“If we go through all the files again, all of them are connected except this one,” Y/n stated.

“What do you mean?” Jungwon asked, skimming through all the files again, what could he possibly have missed while going through it again.

“What is it Y/n? Sunoo asked. 

“This victim was strangled to death, not stabbed, she also is clean, no crimes committed, compared to the other victims, they’re all criminals except her,” Y/n explained.

“So you’re telling us right now, that there’s another serial killer on the loose?” Heeseung asked.

“No, this isn’t a serial killer, this is another murder case, not related to the serial killer.” Y/n replied. 

3

Y/n arrived at Jake’s apartment, tired with the new case they’re dealing with.

“You arrived,” Jake said, coming out from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. “You okay?” He asked, pulling Y/n closer to him, kissing her forehead.

“You were with me last night, did Sunghoon go on killing last night?” Y/n asked, almost whispering.

“What? No, Sunghoon isn’t even in the country, why what happened?” Jake asked, sitting down at the edge of the bed, pulling Y/n on his lap.

“They found a dead body, near an abandoned alley,” Y/n replied. 

“I was with you last night, whole night, I didn’t leave,” Jake assured her.

“I know, the body they found today, she was strangled to death and there are no motives for someone to do that to her.” Y/n explained.

“Ok, tomorrow, I’ll be with you and help with what I can help with for now, let me have you.” Jake replied, before pulling Y/n into a heated kiss.

“I fucking miss you,” Jake said in between their kiss, his hand traveling in between her legs, cupping her clothed area.

“Jake,” Y/n moaned in his mouth, making him groan and deepened the kiss more. 

Pulling away from their kiss, Jake started undressing Y/n, pushing her down the mattress and pulling her at the edge of the bed before taking off the towel on his waist. 

“Wanna see your face when I c*m in this p***y,” Jake said, giving her c**t a tight slap before he started to kiss her again hungrily, his fingers sliding inside her folds, making her moan. 

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer towards him as they continued to kiss each other hungrily, his fingers ramming in and out of her. 

“Fucking wet,” Jake groaned, not wasting more time and pushing his length inside Y/n. Jake groaned feeling her tight walls around him. He started moving his hips, his c**k ramming in and out of her, making Y/n a moaning mess. 

“God, keep going,” Y/n moaned, digging her nails on his shoulders, making him groan. Jake placed her legs on his shoulders as he increased his pace and the depth of his thrusts, too sensitive Y/n clenched around him. 

“God, stop clenching baby,” Jake said, bending forward to capture her lips in a heated kiss as he continued to ram in and out of her, hitting her spot from every thrust. Swallowing Y/n’s whines and moans with the kiss, Jake smirked in their kiss, his free hand moving on her cl*t rubbing her. Breaking the kiss, Y/n threw her head back into the mattress and moaned loudly.

“Jake! Fuck!” Y/n moaned, her head thrown back from the pleasure, her hand holding on his back, leaving marks as her nails dug into his skin. 

“OH! FUCK! JAKE!” Y/n screamed as she felt him abusing her spot. 

“God baby,” Jake groaned, holding her waist, keeping her in place as he kept thrusting in and out of her, bringing his hand on her stomach, he can feel the bulge created in her lower abdomen. 

“Fuck!” Jake cursed as he continued to thrust harshly and deepened it. 

“Fuck c*m with me,” Jake groaned, coming with Y/n with a few more thrusts, filling her up. 

Jake pulled Y/n up, carrying her to the bathroom to clean her up. “Damn, I’m hard again,” Jake groaned as Y/n slapped his arms playfully. 

4

The following morning, Y/n woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing. Groggy, she reached for it and saw Jungwon's name flashing on the screen.

"Jungwon, what is it?" she asked, trying to clear the sleep from her voice.

"Y/n, we've got a lead. Heeseung wants everyone at the department ASAP," Jungwon's urgent tone snapped her fully awake.

"We’ll be there in twenty," she replied, quickly ending the call.

Jake stirred beside her. "What's going on?" he mumbled, eyes half-open.

"Jungwon says they have a lead. We have to go," Y/n explained, hurriedly getting dressed.

Jake got up immediately as he started getting dressed hurriedly. 

As soon as they arrived at the scene the atmosphere was very tense. Everyone has a serious expression on their face. 

"We've got a witness who saw someone leaving the scene of the latest murder," Heeseung began. "They're currently at the station for questioning. Jake, I want you to talk to them."

Jake nodded, grabbing his notebook and heading to the interrogation room with Y/n following behind him. Inside, a young man sat nervously, fidgeting with his hands. Y/n and Jake took a seat across from him, offering a reassuring smile.

"Hi, I'm Detective Sim. Can you tell me what you saw?" he asked gently.

The man, who introduced himself as Minho, took a deep breath. "I was walking home late last night when I saw a man in dark clothes running away from the alley. He looked... frantic, like he was in a hurry to get away."

"Did you see his face?" Jake pressed.

Minho shook his head. "No, it was too dark. But he was tall and he has a tattoo on his right hand, it’s almost like it’s glowing."

Jake noted the details, his mind working to connect the dots. "Did you notice anything else? Any distinguishing features or anything unusual?"

Minho thought for a moment. "He dropped something as he ran. I didn't get a good look, but it might have been a piece of jewelry. It glittered under the streetlight."

Y/n and Jake thanked Minho for his help and left the room, her mind racing. Jake immediately relayed the information to Heeseung and the team. "We need to check the area for any dropped items. If it's jewelry, it could lead us to the killer."

Heeseung nodded, already making calls to organize a search team. "Good work, everyone. This could be the break we need."

As the team prepared to head out, Jungwon approached Y/n. "I'll come with you to the crime scene. We need all hands on deck."

Together, they drove to the alley where the body had been found. The area was cordoned off, and officers were already combing the scene for evidence. Y/n and Jungwon joined the search, meticulously examining every inch of the alley.

"Over here!" an officer called out, holding up a small, glittering object.

Y/n and Jungwon rushed over. The officer handed them a delicate silver bracelet, partially covered in dirt. Y/n inspected it closely, her eyes widening. 

“Y/n what’s wrong?” Sunoo asked.

“The bracelet has name engraved in it, Jay Lazio,” 

CHAPTER 12

1

“Now who the hell is Jay Lazio?” Riki asked, as they all entered the meeting room. “Do we even have a record of that name?” He added. 

“I’ve never heard of that name, but good news is the general won’t be joining us,” Heeseung replied, looking over at Y/n as he said those last words. 

“It’s about time,” Y/n whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, making everyone chuckle at her reaction. 

“So, we don’t have a record of Jay Lazio, but we do have a record of the family Lazio, we can start from and work our way up until we find that name,” Heeseung said. 

“Who are they?” Sunoo asked, as he never heard of that family name before. 

“They are a dangerous family, they aren’t actually from here, they’re italians until Italy found out about them and they flew here so they can hide which they successfully did, 5 years after entering the country, all departments were informed about them, and this department saw a member of that family that’s why we have a record, they did a lot of drug smugglings, murders, threats and all the bad things that exist in this world,” Y/n replied, everyone looking at her.

“How did you know that, you weren’t here nor were you alive when it all started,” Riki asserted. 

“It was the last job my brother took, and I think Jay Lazio is the same Jay we know.” Y/n replied.

“That’s impossible Y/n, Jay died years ago,” Riki argued. 

“Then tell me why his coffin is empty,” Y/n voiced out.

“What?” Jungwon asked. 

“The coffin they buried it’s empty, there are no remains, and I know for sure that worms don't eat human bones.” Y/n stated everyone was looking at her. 

“And how would you know that?” Heeseung asked.

“I got his grave excavated about a year ago,” Y/n responded. 

“They’re opening Jay’s case next week, and I hope you know what you’re gonna have to deal with,” Heeseung informed them, looking at Y/n.

“I can deal with the general, and I hope you’re not as bad as him because if you are, I’ll make sure you lose everything,” Y/n replied.

2

“Damn, why is this case so long,” Sunoo complained, putting his head on his desk. 

Their department started working early in the afternoon but it’s almost midnight and there’s still no sign of Jay Lazio’s name on the files.

“It’s almost 12 am and we haven’t found anything about Jay Lazio,” Riki said, as he gave everyone their coffee.

Their department decided they’re taking turns on who’s buying coffee every 2 hours to keep them awake from their shift. It became quiet after they were handed their coffee, not until the phone started ringing. 

“Now what?” Jungwon complained, clearly tired from working since 12 pm. 

“Everyone up, we got an emergency call,” Heeseung yelled, standing up from his seat before sprinting to his car with the other officers following behind him. 

Their department arrived at the scene with an ambulance following behind them, searching the area they found a girl shivering in fear. 

“Hi, I’m Lee Heeseung, the chief. May I know your name?” Heeseung asked while Y/n, Jake and Jungwon watched him interrogate the girl that made the emergency call, as for Sunoo and Riki they’re busy looking around the area. 

“Where are you going?” Jake asked Y/n holding her arm as he noticed her going to walk away. 

“I’m just gonna take a look around and see if I can find anything,” Y/n replied.

“Fine but stay close,” Jake told her, letting her arm go carefully, watching her take a look around the area.

As Y/n takes a look around the area, she noticed someone standing from afar, watching her.

“Hello, is anyone there?” Y/n called out, approaching the dark alley, not caring about the danger around there. “Is anyone there?” Y/n called out a bit louder. “If someone is here stop messing around, this is a police matter, come out now or else there will be repercussions,” Y/n said.

“And what are the repercussions,” someone asked from behind her. Turning around she couldn’t see well because of the darkness, but she spotted a shadow.

“Who are you? Come out now,” Y/n said. “Damn it,” Y/n cursed, opening the flashlight of her phone to see better, as soon as her eyes landed on that figure her eyes widened and before she could say something someone covered her mouth and everything turned black for her.

3

“So you’re telling us she went to look around and after that she disappeared?” Jungwon asked Jake, who has been looking around worriedly trying to find Y/n.

“We’ll find her Jake, come on let’s go at the station, it’s late,” Heeseung said, trying to convince Jake into going back to the station.

“No, I won’t go back without her,” Jake said, walking away from them calling out Y/n’s name. 

“Y/N!” Jungwon yelled around the area helping Jake find Y/n.

“Y/N BABY! DAMN IT! COME OUT NOW! IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Jake yelled tears started streaming down his cheeks, he kept yelling until he reached the dark alley. Wiping his tears he turned on the flashlight of his phone and his eyes widened. 

“Oh my god! Y/n!” Jake yelled as he found Y/n lying on the cold floor of the dark alley. “Y/n,” Jake uttered, taking Y/n in his arms before running and screaming to get an ambulance.

“What happened?” Heeseung asked as soon as they arrived at the hospital.

“I don’t know, I found her lying down on the cold concrete,” Jake responded, while waiting for the doctors to come out. 

And just as Sunoo was about to say something the doctors came out. 

“Is she okay?” Jake asked.

“She’s fine, she’s conscious, a little bit disoriented but she’s okay now, if you may excuse me,” the doctor informed them and Jake didn’t wait any second and barged inside Y/n’s room.

“Y/n,” Jake said as he ran to her to hug her tightly. “I told you not to wander far from us,” Jake said, scolding Y/n. “Tell me what happened,” Jake said, pulling away from the hug as he held her hand in his. 

“I saw him,” Y/n said, her eyes teary.

“Saw who?” Heeseung asked.

“Jay,” Y/n replied.

“Jay?” Riki asked, confused.

“I saw him with my own eyes, he was there, at the dark alley, watching us,” Y/n stated, tears started falling down from her eyes.

“Okay, calm down, look at me, tell me exactly what happened,” Jake told Y/n holding her face with his hands to make her look at him in his eyes.

“When I was looking around I saw a figure watching from afar it was on the dark alley and I went near it, but it was gone, I walked further the alley and asked who it was and someone, someone spoke from behind me, when I turned around I couldn’t see him well it was dark, but when I turned on my flashlight I saw him, but then someone covered my mouth then everything went dark, I saw Jay, I saw my brother he’s alive,” Y/n explained her tears cascading on her cheeks.

“Ok, there was a CCTV camera around the area. We'll see what we can find, for now rest, Jake, come with me,” Heeseung said.

“No, no, you don’t believe me, I saw him with my eyes, you have to believe me, I’m not crazy, I saw Jay, please,” Y/n said.

“Baby, calm down, I believe you, rest for now I have to talk to Heeseung,” Jake said before giving her lips a short peck.

“I’m not lying,” Y/n whispered.

“I know, I believe you,” Jake responded, lying her down the hospital bed before motioning Jungwon and the others to watch Y/n for a little while.

When Jake came out of the room he found Heeseung in the hall.

“Y/n needs to take a break with this case, it’s getting to her way too much,” Heeseung said.

“I know,” Jake replied, sighing.

“I believe Y/n, we’ll obtain the CCTV footage tomorrow morning,” Heeseung told Jake, patting his back.

“You believe she saw her brother?” Jake asked.

“I do, I saw him flee the scene. He came from the dark alley, I thought I was seeing things but Y/n said she saw him too,” Heeseung replied. “And Eunyeok was paid by Lazio, and I think you should know that, he knows something we don't, so this case is only for us, make sure not to mention it,” he added.

“What?” Jake asked.

“I don’t think it’s the time to explain it, but I will explain everything to you and Y/n soon now go back inside and take care of her, and send Riki out we’ll guard here.” Heeseung replied to him.

[notacatdown]

Comments to lgief rewatch ep. 4

@fairytaehl

I wrote my comments as a post so I can format it for easier readability, and the reblog was locked for your post.

"which is nuts because why the fuck are you a demon catcher? "

He's a demon hunter because this is what Mu Yao wants. The drama hand-waves away the hardship and pain that comes with being a demon hunter.

In the novel, its clear that he doesn't want Mu Yao to be in a profession where she gets hurt and might die, but this is what she wants to do, so he can only support her despite the physical cost. He is often badly injured and comes close to dying in order to save strangers because he doesn't want to disappoint Mu Yao. It's Miaomiao that says while she finds it admirable that Mu Yao and Liu Fuyi are altruistic saviors, it's fine that he doesn't want to sacrifice himself to save strangers. He's not wrong for feeling that way. That she also feels this way.

"i know hes in the wrong. i know it was his fault and he had bad intentions, and his words in response to her were also not very kind. but… placating her and telling her he doesn't like arguing with her, that sister knows best, just because he cant deal with hearing her say these hurtful things anymore, and he cant handle it if his sister has such a negative view of him, all while hes trying to smile. its genuinely hurting him internally, as we see in a moment. "if you think it was me, then it was me." it was basically you, and it makes me frustrated to see him so upset over his own doing. i feel bad but i dont. hes trying so hard not to cry, but goddammit, you had this coming you bastard."

I love how you phrase it! I thought their conversation was so, so good. That Mu Yao is being too harsh, but Mu Sheng did do something wrong, and they both know it. Their complicated, messy relationship is so interesting, and I wish we saw more of it.

"crushing the flower in front of her and smirking as he does so… sir. please have mercy. a silent "this is what i do to fresh, pretty flowers" a.k.a. Her."

"crossing your arms across your chest is a physical tell for defensiveness and closing off yourself to the conversation~"

Your observation skills are so good! You catch so many little details. I love all the body gestures and movements that Esther and Ding Yuxi do in the drama. I wonder how much was improvised vs part of the script.

"i wont lie, this whole bit about how she knows about the ledger and letting it slide confused me"

Agree, and I thought it was weird he doesn't ask her why she wants to burn the Mu's ancestral map. 

In the novel, it's because she read the original work and she has nightmares about it after she transmigrates (I don't think this is shown in the drama), so she knows what he's going to do. BUT, she doesn't directly confront him about it. Unlike in the drama, she's very cautious and tries her best to not reveal any information that Lin Yu wouldn't know in front of Mu Sheng.

"ok, i need to ask, anyone understand these heart lake things?"

My guess is they're supposed to visually reflect the change in his emotional state. For example, in ep 18's script.

"△ The lotus in Mu Sheng’s heart lake suddenly turned completely black, leaving only half of the petals still red.

Demonized Mu Sheng: (Chaotic electronic music) I want... to kill him."

"the one where she throws him off entirely by acting all obsessed had him pause as to why she was going to such lengths to lie, and what her goal was. yes, he wanted to get her out because he doesnt like her at all, but that was so nefarious-seeming that he just… walked away. also, it was weird."

On one hand, I thought that scene was hilarious. Its my favorite scene in the drama, and I'm entertained enough to not think too deeply about it. This scene doesn't exist in the novel, but there are ones where he reacts similar-ish if you want an explanation.

In the novel, she constantly seeks him out to increase his favorability % and shows concern and for one reason or another will end up hugging him, and this leads to him letting her off each time. It's easy to see that he's touch-starved and longs for affection. Once he likes her even just as a friend, he can easily be bribed to look the other way with hugs or agree to her requests.

On the other hand, I think it would make way more sense if the drama followed the novel's scene order and had them playing 5-in-a-row games all night early on, and we heard his thoughts so the audience knows why this marks a shift in how he views Miaomiao.

How this is the first time he's learning something that's not for Mu Yao's interests, how he's been pretending to be bad at Go (and his skills as a demon hunter) to get Mu Yao's attention, etc. Its easy to see that he and Mu Yao haven't outgrown their relationship dynamic from their childhood, which was fine then, but has become an unhealthy codependency as adults.

If that happened before Miaomiao's fake confession scene, his response to it would feel less weird.

---

Some random thoughts after reading your post. We eventually find out that Mu Sheng has always known that the Resentful Woman is hiding inside Mu Yao, so what was his long-term plan? Instead of letting her know so they can work together to get rid of the Resentful Woman, he's deciding that he knows what's best for her. And, this isn't a problem that can go away if he hides it. The Resentful Woman will only grow stronger and be harder to defeat. So frustrating.

This is like Guo Xiu unilaterally making the decision to tamper with the villagers' memories. He's playing god, and there's no consequences to him other than his guilt. The script's narrative pushes the idea that this is for their own good and he makes up it up to them with his building talisman, but all he's really done is rob them of seven years. It's extra bad because the median lifespan for people in ancient times is low.

These villagers can't emotionally move on. In practical matters, this is an ancient world, and it would be harder for women if their husbands die and they don't remarry. The author set the novel to take place in a fantasy version of the Tang Dynasty, where it was fine for women to remarry. Had Guo Xiu been honest with them or just done nothing so they know people are disappearing, they could have chosen to move away from this dangerous place.

Maybe, some villagers would choose to throw their lives away to look for their loved ones, but that's their choice.

---

Your recap and the timing of your screenshots for their expressions are so good, especially Mu Yao and Mu Sheng's conversations at the beginning of the episode!

[soupedepates]

New Year's Eve part.4

4th part to the story written with @corneille-but-not-the-author and @hel-phoenyx

Oli belongs to @thal-ent , Tyr and Fenrir to @hel-phoenyx , Sigi, Amandine and Kaizarz to @corneille-but-not-the-author

I leave Oli to go after Tyr. Fuck. FUCK. My whole body is trembling. My stomach is twisting, and I can feel my insides twitch. I want to puke. On that fucking guy. On that stupid, hateful, son of a bitch of Fenrir. Never liked him before. Good job dude, now I hate you with every fiber or my body.

Tyrfing for the love of me go out of the bathroom or I'm breaking the door. Not even kidding.

Thanks GOD he's coming out. I thought he might have fallen in a pisshole.

"Tyr, let's have a smoke." And because he doesn't react, I take his arm and say louder: "Tyrfing. I need a cigarette. You come with me."

Fuck. Even my voice is trembling. And he is too shaken to protest, I guess. Fuck. I don't smoke that much. He neither. We go outside the bar, light up the cigarette. Someone's going to die. I am in the mood for murder. A long, gruesome murder, with blood and gore. In which I can bury my hands on the warm, bloody mess of flesh I've done.

But no.

Snap back to reality and you're not cold because you're too enraged to realise you left your coat inside. And it's freezing here.

"Tyr."

He doesn't answer.

"Tyr, goddammit, look at me." His blue, his beautiful blue eyes turn to me. "You won't let that fucker get to your head, right?!"

"...Domhildr, I..."

He thinks for a moment before taking a long puff and swallowing the smoke.

"You don't have to justify yourself if you like a guy, you know", he says simply. "I just would've liked to know... not like that, you kn-"

"For FUCK'S SAKE TYR! THAT'S NOT THE FUCKING POINT!" I yell, tears starting to blur my vision. "Listen. Listen closely. I am not smart, but I can read your behaviour, y'know?! Kiss me now because I know you want it bad. Kiss me. Because I also want it so fucking bad because I love you, idiot! My heart is so fucking big that yeah, I love romantically multiple people AND YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! So kiss me. Now. On the lips. You want it and I want it."

He doesn't answer. He fucking doesn't answer and I'm tearing up like a teenage girl. The worst that could've happened is his silence, and it is deafening.

"If you don't love me then at least say it to my face", I spit as I try to wipe my face. "I'll never be a woman in your eyes anyway, I'm just a poor little thing you have to protect, ain't I? Why am I even trying."

I go back inside to fetch my jacket and pay my tab, without a word for Oli. Fuck. My cheeks burn from tears and humiliation. Fuck everything. Fuck the world. Fuck you Tyr.

Fuck you Fenrir.

The sole culprit of this mess.

Despair quickly morphs into hatred. A dark, blind, biting hatred that holds my throat. I need to buy pastries.

You attack me?

I am retaliating.

And I am ruthless.

You know what's worse than being a POC in the police? Being a gay POC in the police. And clearly Fenrir, to be such a parasite for Tyr - HELL HE LOST HIS HAND BECAUSE OF YOU - you have to have a crush on him.

And I know how some cops treated me after I disclosed that I sometimes sleep with women.

That's nasty and I'll have remorse but that's a future me problem. A not-angry-anymore me problem.

***

I arrive to the police station with my bag full of croissants and pains au chocolat. My face must've said it all, some of the police who are accustomed to my bubbly demeanour ask immediately "what is going on Domhildr, did something happened?".

So I start giving away the pastries. Even Amandine comes to check on me, or perhaps she's just here to fetch a delicacy. And... I burst into tears.

I choke on my sobs.

Someone brings me a glass of water. I can't even stand. I...

"That man, t-that man Fenrir, h-he..." I try to swallow my tears. I fail miserably. I am shaking from all my limbs. "I don't know... I don't know why! B-but he is so o-o-obsessed with my man he... he says I'm flirting with another just to make us, I... I don't know... am... I am-I am so lost and..." I can't even breathe properly. I can't see in front of me. Fuck. And in front of cops. What am I becoming, heh. A slut crying for shit in the middle of the only legal fascist militia.

I just want to hide in Sigi someone's arms.

"What is going on here?" a stern voice asks. "Why is she doing her melodrama here?"

I uselessly wipe my tears, but my view clears up enough to recognize the commissar Walpurgis, displeased with my rather loud presence. I hand him my kraft bag in a pathetic attempt to gain sympathy.

"You want a croissant?"

"Get out", he sighs tiredly.

I sniff as I drag my feet and my bag outside, not wanting any trouble. I just fall on the ground next to the station.

Fuck.

I think I avenged myself, but fuck.

Fenrir messed with the wrong girl. Just... now I feel dirty. Disgusting. It's not fair. It's horrible. I am horrible. That's why they don't love me, why they hate me.

I am ugly. Gross. Mean. Shitty. A whore. Useless. Stupid. Horrible.

I am a bad person.

I am the worst.

I am the worst.

Fuck hatred. Guilt devours me now.

Fuck the world.

Fuck me in particular.

I should kill myself.

***

"What are you doing here, outside? You're going to catch a cold."

That's the voice of warmth. Sigismund. He kneels before me. He must've been patrolling before.

"You look like you've been crying... why don't you want to come inside?"

"Can't", I murmure. "Already caused a commotion and the commissar told me to get out."

"What happened?"

"I'm a bad person", I say, crying again.

"No, no you're not... what happened?"

"T-this man... this man, Fenrir, he said to Tyr, my dear friend Tyr, stuff about y-you and I and it hurt Tyr and I got hurt so I wanted to get back at him but I started to have a meltdown at the desk and I said things and now I am just a bad person and I deserve to die and that's why you don't love me because you're so good and so wonderful and..."

"Domhildr. You're spiralling. Here. Hold my hand and breathe with me, ok?"

I nod and do as I'm told.

"Good girl. You're doing really good", he gently praises. "I'm proud of you, you're doing so good right now..."

"...Do you want to get pizza tonight?" I desperately quietly propose.

"I..."

"After your shift... Please, Sigi..."

"Fine... But please, don't stay in the cold for too long, okay?"

***

The place is nothing fancy but the food is good.

And I am in good company.

Oli is blowing up my phone but that's fine if it was an emergency they would have called.

I hold Sigismund's hand under the table. My heart beats so fast. Like when I read over Tyr's shoulder. Like when Kaizarz ruffled my hair. Like when I can put my head on Oli's shoulder.

I am fucking in love like a fucking idiot, and that feels so good.

I love being in love because they are all so wonderful.

They will never love me because I am a bad person, but at least I can dream. There's no way Sigismund would love me, he who is so virtuous. Same for Kaizarz, who is so kind-hearted. Same for Tyr, who is so smart. Same for Oli, who is so sweet. But in my dreams...

"I'm so happy you agreed to come", I smile. "Fuck, I'll cry again, I'm the worst, sorry..."

"I am happy to be here to, you know", he replies. "But I have to admit... I don't like the fact your meltdown will have repercussions on my colleague. I believe you meant no harm, but it has done so and... what has made you so upset?"

"This man is a parasite. Sabotaging every relationship Tyr has. And he attacked you. My blood just boiled and welp..."

He sighs, letting go of my hand.

"That's between your friend and him, you shouldn't have intervened... And I can defend myself, you know."

"I am sorry", I say lowering my gaze.

"I'm not the person to apologise too, Domhildr... I get where you're coming from, but still, you went too far. Even if it was unwillingly."

Aaaaaand I feel terrible again. I deserve it.

"I can't stand to see that people I love being hurt or badmouthed. You know? And you know how I feel about you. Can't stand that."

"Not an excuse, Domi", he smiles sadly. "But I'll take it."

He looks through the window for a second.

"It's getting dark. I will take you home, okay?"

My eyes sparkle.

"That sounds wonderful."

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 38 Dream a Dream of Murder

I'm so sorry for making another rant post ;; I really don't like making them, I hope this episode can make up for it

I will yeet a huggico at you quite violently

Be prepared for him to crash through your window

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

After a grocery fiasco, the Oxymorons head back to the apartment. Little Logico is so tired. He plops on the couch, and goes to bed right away. A curious Irratino decides to see what he could be dreaming of…

The first thing Logico can see when he enters the alternate reality is a dead stick figure - obviously. He then sees Director Dusty, placing the figure to look just right.

DUSTY: ALL RIGHT HE’S GONNA SOLVE THE MURDER NOW. EVERYBODY IN THEIR PLACE! AND… ACTION!

Logico blinks in confusion and Dusty teleports elsewhere, surprised at the body. He bumps into Irratino.

IRRATINO: Gico hi… Do you want to know what my favorite flavor is?

Logico has many dreams about Irratino, most of which involving doing T H I N G S with him. But right now, he’s concerned about the eye on his shirt blinking at him. And while he’s distracted…

GAINSBORO: You took the bookie!

He squashes him flat with his wings! Logico is sure he’s dead… but when he comes to, he’s flat against the sky as if it’s a wall. He was squished 2-dimensional!

LOGICO: OHHH, GODDAMMIT! HOW AM I GOING TO SOLVE A MURDER LIKE THIS??

He crawls across the wall of Coffee’s Shop - maybe he can help! 

COFFEE: Deductive Logico, wow!

The shop is on fire! Stuck to the wall, Logico is burning alive. But the other lifeless suspects sitting around don’t notice or care! Once he escapes through a window and runs across the ground (literally), he finds his lord and savior the Deduction College. But it’s not what it seems - inside is completely monochrome, a set from one of his old movies!! There’s no one else around but a voice…

VOICE: Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder.

Logico looks up - the voice is coming from a 2D piano, which then falls on his head! 

He wakes up in Heaven, which is conveniently located just above his apartment. Many Gainsboros fly around in the sky above, as a bright glowing angel Irratino appears before him. The literal goat lord throws ghost pepper flakes into the air as Logico lays back and bathes in them - a representation of his fiery passion for doing T H I N G S with Irratino. 

Back in reality, Irratino slaps himself to snap out of it, because he really doesn’t want to see any more of this dream. He tries to shake Logico awake to tell him who did the fake murder, but he just giggles and turns around.

Back in the dream, Logico manages to figure it out on his own - it was Dusty, who staged the whole thing to try to kill him! 

DUSTY: GOD DAMN! I WAS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Logico, while finally 3-dimensional again, has fallen into a dark void with only the Big Red Book staring at him. He opens it nervously - there’s an exam inside! One he couldn’t study for, because of the MURDER… Chancellor Tuscany appears behind him!

TUSCANY: I expected better, from my OWN, DEDUCTIVE LOGICO…

Logico lets out a wail, then wakes up. Irratino has fallen asleep next to the couch. But he’s whimpering, and tears are pouring out of his eyes. 

Logico slowly sits down next to him. When Irratino moves, Logico sees deep, brutal wounds on Irratino’s chest. They must have been from a long time ago. But what? 

Irratino continues to twitch and shake as Logico slowly reaches out his hand, but then jerks it back. What happened to him??

A giant thunderclap forces Tino awake and blasts Logico backwards. Irratino runs to the window in a panic.

IRRATINO: Logico! I think a tornado is coming… and there’s also a murder! LOGICO: I THINK THE TORNADO IS MORE IMPORTANT!

The end!

again apologies ily <3

I'm sad but I'll try to get over it

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[catttttyfandom]

Goddammit, I wrote a whole long comment about your jayvik fic and only when it was done noticed it was one of those that didn't allow comments...but I don't want it to go to waste so here you go! Sorry about a lot of quotes...

"He needs to say this. He needs to know. He shakes his head as if to force the words out."

I love this! Very in-character for Viktor! It's not natural and little awkward for him to talk about feelings but the writing isn't that!

“Viktor nods, losing himself in those bright golden eyes, amix with worry and resolve. The same ones he could have lost all that time ago, at the edge of the world with crazed potential of a brighter future hanging in the balance.” Losing himself quietly in Jayce's eyes..! 👏

“Viktor unconsciously lets out a breath of relief as he relaxes in the hold, which is now edging on awkwardly too long for his usual comfort, and yet not long enough for his nerves to untangle. “Okay Talis, don’t go too soft on me,” He chuckles, tapping lightly on the broad of Jayce’s back. “Any more weight on these bones of mine and I’ll take you down with me.” Snapping Jayce back to reality and prying his hands off the lighter man’s body.” Viktor relaxing only when Jayce says he will burn the letter and isn't edging too long for Viktor's usual comfort but yearning for it this whole fic (i love it). The little joke of Viktor falling over if Jayce leans closer into the hug is so sweet and Jayce snapping back to reality after getting lost in hugging Viktor is a thing that actually happens in show canon, I love it so much! :'D And gasp they're at the part of their relationship where Viktor calls him Talis, now I wonder would there be a sequel where that address changes to Jayce. x)

Hello!!! That's so odd you should be able to leave a comment! First of all thank you so much for your support and analysis on my fic!!! I didn't expect to receive such love haha <3

For Viktor saying "Talis", he does say Jayce's first name often, its more of a reminder of social standards and formalities of Piltover. Saying his last name is a more formal way of snapping Jayce back to reality, gently reminding him that hey, there are boundaries. (boundaries that they both want to cross mind you, but from their perspective, shouldn't)

I don't have a plan for a sequel as honestly, I don't really know where I would go from how it ends! It was just a think piece and my want to give more love to Jayce and his internal struggles!! But hey.. maybe I'll write another fic one day

[bluebird-writing]

👾 WHAT IS UP WITH THE MIIS (I question, calmly)

Not much really, I started this fic in 2021 in the throes of my Miitopia hyperfixation and then never finished it.

I’m just gonna post the whole thing since it’s so short

For context, there is a dark lord who steals people’s faces

CW: mild body horror

It never hit Vas how awful it felt to lose one’s face until she lost her own face.

At first, there was a tingling sensation that quickly turned into a burning sensation as her face was ripped off her body, her being split in two. She was now two entities, both of which she was painfully aware of.

She could still feel the sensations of her physical body. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the firm floor beneath her feet, and the metal of her wand in her hand. But she was blind and mute, unable to see and unable to speak, to once again curse the being that had done this to her and countless others. So she just stood in place and clutched her mage’s wand and hoped her body would remain safe.

Her face, through which she could see and speak from, was another story. The Dark Lord Athlios, who she could only hear for right now and the one responsible for Vas’s current state, was pulling her face back towards him, making some sort of awful pun about faces. Through her disembodied eyes she could see her three teammates down below, looking on in disbelief as their leader’s face floated in front of them.

Their leader. Vas was supposed to be their leader, yet she foolishly let this happen to her. She should have seen it coming. After all, Athlios had already stolen the faces of all her friends. It was natural he eventually stole hers. But yet the event was still unexpected and oddly embarrassing. She was supposed to be the put-together one, goddammit!

Since her face and her brain were disconnected, Vas wasn’t entirely sure how she was able to speak. Scientifically, it shouldn’t be possible, but Vas had learned that here in Miitopia, sometimes it was better to leave some questions unanswered. But she was able to speak, and in her bewildered state, she was only able to cry out one measly word.

“Help!”

“Give it back,” Irene threatened the Dark Lord, pointing her staff at him. The staff glinted in the dim lighting of the castle, provided only by the firelight emitting from both the chandeliers and the volcanic landscape outside. Athlios’ villainous laughter filled the stone chamber.

“I don’t think I will. In fact, I think I need another one.”

Before Irene could say another word, her face separated from her body and flew through the air, hovering right next to Vas’s. Irene’s body, now faceless, stood next to Vas’s body, clutching her staff in the same manner Vas clutched her wand. Athlios did another evil laugh.

“Let’s see you guys FACE this!”

Vas felt her face being pulled backwards, before colliding with something. An imp. There was another brief tingling sensation as her face settled on the creature’s head, and Vas felt her consciousness merge with that of the imp’s. She could feel its body as if it were her own, and she felt its thoughts and emotions. The imp mostly just felt rage towards Vas, Irene, and their two remaining teammates. After all, the Dark Lord’s imps were made specifically to try and destroy them, after all.

The imp started to attack, striking Drac, the team’s vampire-turned-chef, into the chest with its pitchfork. Vas couldn’t control the actions of the imp, she quickly realized, she was just along for the ride. When the imp turned back to take its place on the right side of the Dark Lord, Vas saw another imp on the left side of Athlios, this one with the face of Irene. Her face looked scared, the same emotion Vas was feeling, yet hers also had a hint of acceptance on it. Which made sense, Vas thought, seeing as this is now the second time Irene’s had her face stolen and tacked to one of Athlios’ entities. The first time it had happened, her face had been attached to Cerberus, along with the faces of Drac and Loup. The same trio that had come along with Vas for this fight.

[tobiasdrake]

We have a ship. We have a mission. And I am focused.

Focused on faffing about.

Whole island just for a fishing pond. Seems unnecessary given that fish also live in the....

Wait, we can't fish in the ocean. I guess fish don't live in the ocean. You do need a pond for it. Huh.

There aren't any fish in this fishing pond.

...this might not be a fishing pond.

I hope I'm not doing a sacrilege right now. This. Might. Be something important that I'm desecrating with my ignorance.

We should probably lea--

FUCK YEAH SWIMMIN' HOLE

Okay, now we should leave.

I'm noticing a bunch of these under the water. What clearly looks like the timey-wimey panels we use to ruin people's sleep schedules. Wonder what that's about.

This must be Mesa Island. If you crane your neck upwards, you can see the barrier Moraine was talking about.

Pretty sure that's the head of Mesa's tossy giant too. Moraine mentioned the Fleshmancer Acolytes put him to sleep, but he looks decapitated to me. Unless the rest of his body is. Like. Inside the mountain.

Mm. That's a possibility. I'll keep an open mind.

The barrier looks even more impressive from out there. It's pretty even. I almost don't wanna pop it. But if we don't, then the Fleshmancer wins.

Wait a second. Are we....

Oh hey! It's Mirth! Our new village is a hop, skip, and a jump away from the epicenter of darkness, from which death and destruction will wash across the world.

I'm sure that's fine.

Hey guys, what's up? Something really cool down there?

Is it a party? I bet it's a party.

This island has a volcano. But more importantly, a fishing pond.

I don't need to resupply on fish. I just have a compulsive need to catch one of every fish.

Alright team, we are here at... some volcano. Because it looked neat.

I am very good at prioritizing. I'm glad we unanimously elected me Headmistress.

We make camp here and then, in the morning, we begin our perilous but rewarding delve into the mysteries of this completely ordinary geographic feature. Get a good rest, everyone. We'll need all of our strength for--

There is no cave.

...

Great work everyone. Especially you, Serai. Mission completed in record time.

COME DOWN

SHARE YOUR MYSTERIES WITH ME YOU AERODYNAMIC BASTARD

No, Zale, we cannot leave yet. I think it's working. Just. Another hour or two. To see if anything changes. Can you not smell the mystery in the air? It smells like intrigue and burnt shellfi--

Oh goddammit, I thought we swabbed this deck already. YOLANDE! WHO'S SUPPOSED TO BE ON SWABBING DUTY? ...it's not me, is it?

Our home village. Which is completely inaccessible by any means other than the Forbidden Cavern and doesn't even have a port. Nothing but sheer cliff drops.

It was a wry observation when we were leaving. But now it's an infuriating geographic feature.

Joke's on them, though. There's a secret cave down at sea level where Garl, Zale, and I used to plan our raft adventure.

Unfortunately, I have no idea how to navigate to that cave from the outside. Vespertine probably wouldn't fit inside of it either. So I remain screwed. Giant's gonna be our only option.

Weirdass prison village.

Brisk's looking better and it's partly thanks to the Molekin. Nice to see a more positive side to their community. I mainly know them from bullying a neurodivergent kid so it's nice to see there's some good in them too.

Oh sweet. Will I be allowed to fight in it? For money? I like money. And I'm really good at fighting. I'm looking forward to this. The new Brisk will be even better than it was bef--

We should have let you burn.

Not the city. You, specifically.

This is such a weird and unsafe way to travel.

It's nice to come back to Mooncradle. See the people. Pick up Rainbow Conches. Play some Wheels. All the things I wasn't old enough to do as a kid.

It's also nice to see we've finally got some variety to our crops. Guess the blue melon guy finally got fired, and some proper agriculturalists were put in charge of food production.

:')This is where I learned the joys of stealing everything that isn't nailed down from a community. Old times.

ASCENSION! To what is now effectively my kingdom.

The place should be pretty well abandoned now that Moraine's gone. We should have a look around and see if there's anything of value to--

Why are the servants still here.

Moraine was already planning on quitting forever when he came to Mirth. Did he leave all-a y'all up here to rake the cobblestones forever? The lift works via Solstice Magic.

...come to think of it, how did Garl operate the lift when he brought us that gallon jug of cookies? Huh.

At long last, it's time to find out what the fuck this is. I've been curious about it since we left Mooncradle, especially since we've seen so many other doors like this too.

It's a puzzle chamber. I mean, that makes sense. Puzzle looks simple enough. Paint the pattern but with the caveat of Ice Block sliding mechanics. Piece of cake.

Ooo, combo skill.

Gonna be honest, I'm a bit disappointed. After all that time wondering and Moraine hyping it up, I was expecting a bit more than "Slide the block and unlock a new attack".

Though we've apparently opened one of the locks on that thing. Pretty sure I saw that in the misty waterfalls during the climb up. Looks important. Probably has a super duper attack inside of it.

Well, this was fun but it's time to get back to--

HOLY SHIT A DOCK

I don't have to trek back to the other island!

Whew. It's a good thing I keep the Vespertine in a Poke Ball when it's not in use, or this wouldn't make any sense at all.

[noitstaylor]

when his razor-sharp teeth sank into the tender curve of her neck, a white-hot jolt seared through her veins, blazing past the fleeting glare of paparazzi flashes, the online shitstorm simmering in the corners of her mind, the hissed, clawing guesses of who branded her skin, who fucked her ‘til her thoughts melted into static. no more whispered secret—not with that hickey flaring on her throat, a wet, technicolor roar of possession, pulsing like a neon sign flickering in the dark. nobody’s fucking business, yet his mark throbbed there, loud and unapologetic, a scarlet badge she wore with pride. goddammit, she swallowed every filthy, dripping second of it like it was her last meal on earth, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as the heat of it sank into her bones. her fingers slithered up, coiling tight around his neck, nails sinking deep into his flesh, leaving crescent moons as she yanked hard on those thick, inky tufts of black hair. the strands caught between her knuckles, tugging with a satisfying resistance that made her smirk. his hands—those wicked, relentless hands—danced over her breasts, flicking her aching nipples ‘til they burned a furious red, jutting out perkier, practically howling for more, the sting of his touch sending shivers rippling down her spine. her own greedy fingers latched onto the other one, kneading the soft, spilling flesh, savoring how it squished and yielded under her grip, warm and heavy like dough begging to be molded.

then—rip—the fabric split under his godlike hands, a jagged snarl of sound that buzzed through her bones like a live wire sparking against her nerves. his tongue, slick and blistering, crashed against her bare skin, swirling over the swollen curve of her breast, leaving a trail of wet heat that made her gasp. she broke apart, a panting, sopping wreck, her chest heaving as the air thickened with her own ragged breaths. her hands abandoned those quivering tits, diving down, frantic and trembling, to her soaked, throbbing pussy, fingers slipping through the slick, sticky mess she’d already made, coating her skin in her own desperate need. “yeah?” she rasped, voice thick and gravelly, knowing she was a chaotic, dripping disaster next to his chiseled perfection but reveling in how he consumed her anyway, like she was his personal feast. “bet my tits taste like pure fucking sin in that gorgeous mouth.”

thank fuck for the couch beside her—when his fingers plunged into her, deep and unyielding, she nearly blacked out, her vision sparking white, then fading to a hazy blur. the relentless pump of his hand, slick and punishing, drove into her with a rhythm that rattled her core, each thrust a slick, wet sound that filled the room. it wasn’t even the half of it; his voice, laced with smug, cocky venom, hit her like a Molotov cocktail, igniting every nerve until she was trembling. she could barely string a thought together, let alone words, but she moaned back, ragged and desperate, “fuck yes—all for you,” each syllable tripping over a whimper as her head lolled against his shoulder, back plastered to his chest, her body a limp, quivering offering. she meant every word—she’d be his filthy little plaything, his pliable fuck-doll, bent and pumped however he damn well pleased, her skin flushed with the thrill of being used. “no one else owns me like this,” she gasped, the truth spilling out raw and jagged, her pulse hammering under his grip, a wild drumbeat against his fingers.

his free hand slid up her throat, fingers wrapping tight, and a sick, twisted smirk curled her lips, her breath hitching at the pressure. her own hand chased his, locking it there, craving that chokehold, that delicious crush of control pressing into her windpipe ‘til her head swam with the edge of it. she nodded, his mouth grazing her earlobe, teeth tugging ‘til the sensation yanked a thread straight to her core, her whole body clenching, a tight coil ready to snap. her nipples stood like bullets now, rock-hard and hypersensitive, her fingers still kneading them into perfect, needy peaks, pinching just hard enough to sting, the pain blooming into pleasure that made her hiss. “fucking yes, daddy—anything you want,” she snarled, her voice a cocktail of defiance and worship, daring him to push her further, to break her wide open ‘til she was nothing but his.

but when he flipped the script, sinking onto the couch beneath her, she knew the power was hers to gloat over, even in submission. his hands, usually gripping a microphone stand like a rock god commanding a crowd, stood stiff and pinned, her fingers clamping them together so he couldn’t budge, her nails digging into his wrists. she ground her naked, sweat-slick body into his, feeling his gorgeous cock fill her up, thick and unyielding, stretching her ‘til it felt like it lodged in her belly, a heavy, delicious weight that made her groan. he guided her hips, controlled her rhythm, treated her like a bucking mechanical bull—drop a quarter in, and she’d ride ‘til the gears smoked, her thighs burning with the effort. she synched with his touch, hips spinning in frantic circles and sharp juts, her tits—still glistening with his spit, streaked with slobber stains—jiggling right in his face, taunting him with their bounce. “do i taste good, baby?” she purred, a moaning giggle bubbling up as she watched, in slow-motion haze, his tongue drag up her chest, lapping at the salty sheen of her sweat, claiming every inch with a hunger that made her dizzy.

then came the command—sharp and sudden. one second she was riding him into oblivion, the next he was ordering her to kneel. she didn’t hesitate, didn’t need a reason—pleasing him was wired into her now, her body a live wire of need sparking at his every whim. she cried out, a sharp yelp of pleasure, as his hand cracked against her arse, the wet slap echoing through the living room, a lewd symphony bouncing off the walls, the sound ringing in her ears. her skin stung, a hot, blooming red spreading under his palm, the heat sinking deep, and she fucking loved it, the pulse of it driving her wild. trembling but eager, she slid off him, crouching on the floor, the plush carpet soft under her knees but destined to be ruined by the sticky flood of her cum, a glistening pool she could already feel forming beneath her.

her arse tilted up, high and proud, offering him the perfect view—toned cheeks taut and glistening with sweat, a canvas begging for his ruin, quivering with anticipation. she felt it first—the fumbling nudge of his cock, thick and impatient, slick with their mess as it prodded against her, teasing her tight, puckered hole. her breath hitched, anticipation coiling tight in her gut, a knot of heat and nerves as he searched for the right angle, the chaos of their earlier frenzy making everything slippery and wild. then—oh fuck—he found it. the blunt head pressed against her, and she braced herself, fingers digging into the carpet, nails catching on the fibers, her knuckles whitening. the stretch came slow at first, a burning ache that made her hiss through clenched teeth, her body resisting the intrusion even as she craved it, every muscle tensing. he pushed harder, and she felt every inch of him breach her, the thick, unrelenting slide forcing her open, her arse clenching reflexively around him, a vise grip that sent a shiver up her spine.

her breath came in shallow, ragged bursts as he sank deeper, the pressure building, filling her in a way that made her head spin, her vision blurring at the edges. she could feel the heat of him, the pulsing weight, stretching her wider than she thought possible, her body yielding inch by torturous inch, the burn morphing into something darker, something filthy and exquisite. her arse hugged him tight, every movement amplifying the friction, the slick drag of his cock as he started to pump—slow at first, then harder, relentless, each thrust a wet, obscene sound that made her toes curl. she rocked back into it, chasing the intensity, the carpet chafing her knees raw as she arched her spine, offering more of herself, her skin prickling with sweat and goosebumps. her fingers slid back to her pussy, frantic and sloppy, rubbing circles over her clit, the dual sensation pushing her to the edge of sanity, her moans loud and unhinged.

sweat dripped down her back, pooling in the dip of her spine, her skin flushed and sticky, the air thick with the musk of sex, heavy and intoxicating. her arse ached, a dull, pulsing soreness that only fueled her hunger, the lewd squelch of his thrusts mingling with her gasps, her voice raw and feral. she could feel every ridge, every vein of him carving into her, claiming her in the most depraved way, the stretch so deep it felt like he was rewriting her insides. “fuck, yes, daddy—wreck me,” she groaned, her fingers digging harder into her clit, her other hand clawing at the carpet as her tits swayed with each brutal thrust, nipples grazing the air, hypersensitive and screaming for touch.

the room spun, her senses drowning in the overload—his scent, sharp and masculine, the wet heat of their bodies colliding, the obscene stretch of her arse as he pounded into her, unrelenting, a rhythm that shook her to her core. her thighs quaked, muscles straining, her cum slicking the carpet beneath her, a puddle of her own making, warm and slick against her knees. she was his—his whore, his toy, his everything—and the thought alone sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her, her pussy clenching around nothing as her arse took the brunt of his desire, the fullness overwhelming. “more—fucking give me more,” she begged, half-snarling, half-pleading, her voice cracking as she pushed back harder, desperate to feel him ruin her completely, to mark her inside and out ‘til she couldn’t walk straight, her body a trembling, dripping testament to his claim.

her head dropped, forehead brushing the carpet, the fibers rough against her skin as she surrendered fully, her body a live wire of sensation—burning, stretching, dripping, breaking. the hickey on her neck pulsed in time with her racing heart, a twin claim to the one he was carving into her now, and she fucking loved it, loved how he owned every trembling, filthy inch of her, from the sweat-soaked roots of her hair to the tips of her curling toes. “all yours, daddy—all fucking yours,” she whimpered, the words dissolving into a moan as she teetered on the edge, ready to shatter under his hands, his cock, his everything, her mind blanking out in a haze of raw, unfiltered need.

zayn fucking lived for this. the way she came undone beneath him, her body a living instrument strung tight with desire, every sound she made spilling into the air like a song only he got to hear. she wasn’t just moaning—she was singing, each ragged note laced with pure, unfiltered need, the kind that burrowed into his bones and set him on fucking fire. his fingers flexed, kneading the soft weight of her tits, rougher this time, dragging a strangled cry from her throat. perfect. he watched her writhe beneath him, every shudder, every arch of her back fueling something dark and greedy inside him. the way she fucking reacted to him—it was addictive. a high he’d chase until she was nothing but a trembling mess, begging for more. “fuck, baby—listen to you,” he rasped, voice thick with possession, with a hunger that bordered on feral. his thumbs rolled over her stiffened nipples, slow at first, teasing, before he pinched—hard enough to send a sharp, electric jolt through her, hard enough to make her cry out. “you sound so fucking good. you even realize how loud you are? how desperate?” her hips snapped up, chasing friction, chasing him, and he let her grind against his thigh for just a second before pulling back, making her earn it. her breath hitched—frustrated, aching—and that only made him harder. she was always so fucking confident, always in control, but right now? right now, she was losing herself, unraveling beneath him, and he wanted more. his mouth found her throat, lips grazing over her pulse, feeling it hammer against his tongue before he sucked a deep, dark mark into her skin. his. no one else’s. his fucking name should be carved into her bones by the time he was done. he pulled back just enough to admire his work—red, raw, impossible to miss—before meeting her gaze, his dark eyes glinting with a challenge.

zayn felt like he was losing his mind. every inch of her—flushed, breathless, writhing beneath him—was a fucking masterpiece of chaos and carnality, a work of art he wanted to ruin with his hands, his mouth, his fucking name carved into her skin. he swore he could taste the sin in the air, thick and electric, the raw heat of her burning through his veins like fire. he could feel the way her body responded, how her cunt pulsed against nothing, desperate and aching. his hands—his hands, not theirs, never theirs—moved with greedy, unrelenting purpose, gripping, owning, marking. and then? then he tore the fucking bra apart like it was nothing. like it wasn’t some delicate, expensive little thing meant to be preserved. he didn’t give a shit. all he cared about was getting to her—bare, vulnerable, his. the snap of fabric breaking under his grip sent a thrill up his spine, primal and possessive, and when she arched for him, offering herself up like a goddamn prayer, he answered without hesitation. his tongue flicked over her nipple—slow, teasing, savoring the way she gasped. he smirked against her skin before dragging his mouth across to the other, wet heat following the path of his need. “so fucking perfect,” he muttered, voice wrecked and worshipful, his teeth grazing sensitive flesh before he sucked—deep, hard, possessive. his hands tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to remind her who she belonged to, who she wanted to be seen with.

he let out a low, dark chuckle, the sound reverberating through his chest like a growl, pure and fucking male, as his fingers pressed harder against the soaked fabric clinging to her. his cock twitched at her words, the raw filth of them rolling off her tongue like a damn invocation, an invitation to something wicked. “fucking hell, baby,” he rasped, dragging his teeth over her nipple one last time before lifting his head, eyes burning into hers. “you say that like i won’t make you.” his hand slid lower, fingers curling around the damp lace, tugging, teasing, before with one sharp motion, he yanked it aside. his knuckles brushed her drenched heat, and she gasped, thighs trembling. “you’re dripping,” he murmured, voice full of smug, lazy satisfaction, his touch featherlight, teasing, infuriating. “all this for me?” her breath hitched, eyes flashing with challenge, but before she could throw something sharp and reckless back at him, he plunged two fingers deep into her slick, pulsing heat. the sound she made was downright obscene—half a moan, half a whimper, head snapping back against the couch, thighs spreading wider as she rolled against his hand, desperate for more. he gave it to her, curling his fingers just right, hitting that devastating spot deep inside, making her legs shake. his free hand slid up her throat, not squeezing, just resting there, his thumb grazing her jaw as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “you wanna act like a bitch in heat, baby?” he murmured, lips brushing hers, teasing, taunting. “then fucking beg for it.”

she thought she had him, thought she’d won the second her mouth wrapped around his cock—wet, hungry, taking him down like she needed him to breathe. and fuck, for a second, it almost worked. almost. his head tipped back, jaw clenched, breath ripping from his throat in a ragged exhale as her tongue flicked over the sensitive underside, teasing, torturing. but she forgot one thing—he never gave up control so easily. his fingers plunged into her, and just like that, she was his. he felt the way her body jolted, every muscle tensing as he stretched her open, his touch sinking into her slick, tight heat. her thighs quivered, hips grinding instinctively, chasing more, and he smirked—because fuck, he had her exactly where he wanted. she might’ve started this game, but he was finishing it. his free hand drifted up, brushing over her breast just as she rolled it in her own palm, nails scraping against flushed skin. the sight of her doing it, completely wrecked, losing herself for him, sent a vicious thrill up his spine. his cock twitched on her tongue, and she glanced up, catching the look in his eyes—the sharp, dark gleam of a man who knew he owned every breathy moan spilling from her lips. she nearly pulled away, her body jerking, overwhelmed, but he didn’t let her. no, he kept her there, fingers curling inside her, pushing deeper, coaxing another broken sound from her throat. then she lunged—desperate—mouth crashing into his, all tongue and heat, like she was trying to steal control back. their kiss was wild, filthy, a battle neither wanted to lose, but he could feel it, feel her breaking apart in his hands. zayn let out a low moan, his fingers continuing to work her relentlessly as she practically writhed in his lap. he loved it when she talked like a dirty little girl, even if it was hard for her to admit it. and he couldn't deny the satisfaction that came from her words, from knowing that she'd do anything he wanted at that moment, if only to keep him right where he was. with his chest heaving, he leaned in close to bite her earlobe, his words murmured so only she could hear them. "is that what you want, baby? to be my little plaything, to let me do whatever i want with you?"

zayn watched her move with a mix of admiration and lust, his gaze roaming over her as she settled over him. her name escaped his lips on a breathy gasp, "taylor—" he tried to sit up, tried to get a hand on her hip, but she was too quick, pinning his wrists to the couch cushion on either side of his head. there wasn't an inch of space between them, and he knew that was exactly how she wanted it. zayn's fingers curled into the sofa cushions, his breath hitching as she rolled her hips, taking him deeper and deeper. it was all he could do to keep himself from bucking up into her, to let her set the pace. he'd never seen her like this, so wild and untamed, and it only heightened the tension building in his gut. his hands were suddenly on her, gripping tightly to her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh and guiding her, urging her to go faster, deeper. he couldn't believe the sound of her, the way her moans filled the air, how completely she'd lost control. it was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed, and he was powerless to resist. he leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweat dripping down her chest. he wanted to taste every inch of her, to be surrounded by her in every way possible.

his hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he slammed into her, meeting each of her downward thrusts with an upward surge of his own. He could feel the tension coiling in his belly, the pressure building to an unbearable crescendo. her nails raked down his chest, leaving stinging trails in their wake, only serving to fuel his desperation. he leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep as he swallowed her cries of pleasure. her body was a vice around him, squeezing and milking his cock with every thrust, driving him closer and closer to the edge. he tore his mouth away, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he pounded into her relentlessly. he could feel her tightening around him."fuck, taylor,"he growled against her skin, his voice strained and desperate. zayn's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her flush against him. he leaned back, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. his eyes, dark and intense, raked over her body, taking in the sight of her flushed skin and disheveled hair. he reached up, wrapping a hand around her throat and applying gentle pressure. "turn around," he commanded, his voice low and rough."get on your hands and knees." when she hesitated, he gave her ass a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the room. "now, taylor," he growled, his other hand coming down on her buttock again, harder this time. "don't make me ask twice."

[herofics]

Could you do a scenario where Hawks’s S/O dies. How would he react. How would this effect his life or relationships with other people?

Oohohoo this is a very good ask, at least in my opinion. I’ve got this post about Hawks' s/o dying but it's very different. I love angst so this was nice to write, I basically just read the first sentence and forgot your additional questions but oh well

After you were found dead, Hawks didn’t seem to be affected. He still did his job after recovering at the hospital from the burns he’d gotten while fighting Dabi. Everyone around him knew that you had been killed in retaliation for the part he played in the hospital raid and the attack on the Paranormal Liberation Front. Burnt to death, the rumor was.

Endeavor, Jeanist, everyone around him kept asking him if he was alright. He assured them he was focusing on his job, and keeping it together. Endeavor was especially apologetic, but Hawks assured him he had no reason to feel like any of it was his fault.

And at first Hawks tried to convince himself he was fine, that it didn’t affect him beyond the incredible amount of self hatred he was feeling. He didn’t even notice the little reckless decisions he was making. He didn’t notice how reckless he was being when capturing villains. He didn’t notice the bruises, cuts and injuries that were starting to pile up. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. He had no doubt in his mind that he deserved everything that was coming to him.

One night, about a week after your body had been discovered, he found himself heading to your place. He didn’t fight it, he just let his feet take him to your apartment. The key you’d given him felt cold and heavy in his hand as he opened the front door. He stepped in and flicked on the lights to your living room.

The room looked so normal, like you had just left for work and would return any time now. Your tablet was on the coffee table with a pen and some paper you’d doodled on. You’d drawn feathers, hearts and some other small things. Hawks had to suppress a sob that was about to escape his lips, he had to turn away. If you knew what loving him was going to get you, you wouldn’t surely have never associated with him.

He walked into the kitchen next. Your favorite tea cup was still in the sink, waiting to be washed. You always left it there on your busy mornings, and he’d washed it more times than he could count. So he did it again, he was sure you wouldn’t want it to remain dirty in the sink. He washed the cup, dried it and placed it in the cabinet where you always kept it. His fingers lingered on the cup for a moment, before he closed the cabinet door.

Next he headed to your bedroom, or at least he tried to. He grabbed the door handle, but he couldn’t bring himself to open the door, because he knew you wouldn’t be there.

He marched out of the apartment and slammed the door shut after himself. He walked to the nearest liquor store and bought the biggest bottle of vodka they had. After he got out of the store, he gulped down one fourth of the bottle. Hawks never was much of a drinker, and he was most definitely a lightweight, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to numb the pain with something, and the alcohol seemed like a good option.

“Goddammit” he muttered as he tottered his way back to your apartment.

The alcohol was going to his head, fast. He hadn’t eaten anything the whole day so that didn’t really help the situation either.

Hawks cursed again when he dropped the keys in front of your door. He picked them back up and fumbled with them for a good while, before he got the key into the lock. When he did, he hesitated for a moment. Did he really want to go back in there, into that empty apartment? He wasn’t sure but he did it anyway, he had to at least turn off the lights he’d forgotten on. You always lectured him when he left the lights on when leaving.

Hawks stepped back into the apartment, but he didn’t flick the lights off, he just stood there. He took another sip of the vodka and walked back to your bedroom door. This time he opened the door, slowly. He flicked on the lights there too and stepped inside. Your bed was unmade, and your pajamas were on the floor next to the bed. Your ever growing collection of empty cups was sitting on your table.

Everything was like it always had been, you just weren’t there. The cups were on your table, the table was full of all the little things you liked to collect. The clothes that weren’t dirty enough for the hamper were piled up on a chair next to your table. Everything was the same, but at the same time, nothing was. There was no warmth in any of it anymore, there was no life left.

Hawks sat down on your bed, placing the bottle of vodka on your nightstand. He grabbed your night shirt from the floor and pressed it against his face, taking in the faint scent that was left on it from you wearing it.

He could feel himself tearing up.

“Damn” he muttered.

The alcohol didn’t seem to be of any help in numbing the pain he was feeling. He just sobbed into your shirt as he fell apart. This was all that was left of you. Your possessions, the things you loved, the things you found to be fun and that brought you joy, and now it was all just a painful reminder of what he’d lost. He laid down on the bed, clutching your shirt to his chest and sobbing inconsolably. 

Even though Hawks couldn’t feel it now, you had left him something he would never lose. You had left him love, you had left him joy and memories, good and bad ones, but memories all the same. Even though he was in so much pain he couldn’t even think of any of that right now, he would eventually remember what it felt like to love and to be loved. That’s what you’d left him. Love, always love, and some day when he was ready, he would remember that.

[englass]

Hnnng I only realised he had a tail when I was admiring the new skin, and then I was graced with this post a few days later, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since.

I’m a sucker for a character’s tail subconsciously giving away their inner most feelings and wants, latching onto that which they know they cannot hold and should not crave; a gentle, kindly farewell thwarted by the pleading entrapment of a tail worming about your calf, words at odds with actions, selfless duty contrasted by selfish desire, silent yearning a loud declaration —

Urg, and the shedding… the patient reassurances that this okay, this is not beneath you or taking up your time, you want to help him, you want to treat and reward him with the same care and dedication that he bestows upon yourself and all others that cross his path, from those that seek benediction from the blood and suffering carved into the alter of his body, his sacrifices acts of loving service to saint and sinner alike.

If he will allow you, if he is comfortable with you handling this easily missed and near hidden part of himself, then let your tending to it be your act of service toward him. Let your careful touch ease at least one of the many burdens he shoulders upon his back. May your delicate caress be a salve to the scars he cannot heal, a succour to the burns of inflicted duty.

Perhaps I’m way off in my brief characterisation but goddammit I just want this man to be happy and safe and whole and have his devotion reciprocated tenfold after the shit he’s been through. Let his tail curl up upon thy lap, feel the muscles flex upon thy thigh, and stroke it softly with a damp, tepid rag as it sneaks and constricts about thy waist. Let me sit him down and look after hiiiiim

Salvador fic where his reptilian tail plays more of a feature.

Fascinated by it tbh. Is it as scarred as the rest of his body? Or, since most reptiles shed, is it the one place free of scars? Is it entirely unharmed, a blank canvas? Or if you lean close enough, do you see the faded soft skin discolored between the scales? Has he ever taken from that part of him, ever pried scaled flesh from bone as he does human flesh from the rest of his body?

Catching salvador unaware one day when you reach for his tail. The once beautiful scales are dull, foggy with a layer that cracks like shattered glass. He hasn't been taking care of himself lately -- he forgets, he always does, so busy looking after others -- that he didn't realize it was peeling.

[minniebike]

car troubles | w. afton

x gn reader!

cw: nsfw, older man/younger reader, teehee

> when your car breaks down, who better to help than your nextdoor neighbor, your dads best friend.

“C’mon, seriously!?”

You turn the key in the ignition once again. The car rumbles a few times before it dies, and you groan in frustration, throwing your head back into the seat. “Goddammit.” And here you were, too broke to get your car fixed. With your college student budget, there was no way you could afford it.

Lucky for you, you have your father to help you out whenever you need it.

You exit your car and start up the steps into your house. Your dad didn’t notice you when you came back into the house, his back to you, too engrossed in whatever it was that was on tv and the beer can in his hand to notice you.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey kiddo. Thought you were going out.” He took a drink from his beer.

Yeah, about that… you hesitate a moment. You didn’t want to annoy him.

“Uh, well, my car won’t start…”

He grunts at that. He takes another swig from his can before he sets it down onto the coffee table. “Alright, let’s go take a look at it. Just give me a moment.”

You sigh, relieved. “Okay.”

Your dad grabs his tools from the kitchen cabinet and the two of you head back outside. It’s blistering, causing sweat to bead at your forehead the moment you step out into the heat. You swipe at your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Go knock on William’s door and see if he can help us out, won’t you?” You dad set the toolbag on the concrete beside your car. Your face heated up at the mention of his name, in spite of the sweltering heat. Your body felt like it was on fire. You really didn’t want to go ask him. Whenever he was around, you got nervous. Your palms get sweaty, your chest would tighten. You would feel your heart skip a beat. Although, by now you have learned to hide most of the physical side effects. At least, you thought.

“W-why can’t you do it?” You huffed, red in the face. You would do anything to avoid going over to William’s. You crossed your arms in protest.

“Just do what I tell you goddammit.” Your dad grunted at you as he popped the hood of your car.

You inwardly groaned. “Alright. Fine.”

You reluctantly cross the lawn into the Afton’s yard and knocked on the door. It takes a few moments, and you were ready to leave, hoping perhaps he just wasn’t home. After all, he had a whole diner to run.

But then the door opens, and your heart sinks in your chest. You eye him up and down, your face burning impossibly hotter. He had on a pair of faded blue wranglers but, oh god damn.

He was shirtless. Of course he was. You were convinced god was against you in this moment.

At his age, he had a bit of a dad bod, but was slender in the waist. Symmetrical scars spanned across his torso and strong arms. They were odd, but you never asked. His brown hair was messy and out of place, bangs hanging over his forehead.

“Ah, y/n. What a surprise to see you here.” He smiles at you and leans against the doorframe. The sound of your name always sounded sweet like honey. “Are you home for the summer?”

You hold his gaze for a moment, your mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “Uh… yeah.” You shuffled on your feet. A droplet of sweat rolled down your back. “My… car won’t start. Dad asked me to come get you.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. But no problem.” He smiles warmly. “Let me grab some shoes, love.” He pushes himself off the doorframe, and dips back into his house for a brief moment, before returning. Still didn’t bother to put a shirt on. you didn’t blame him though, it was sweltering out there. But it would’ve helped your wandering mind out a lot.

His hand lingers on your shoulder as he leads you off the porch. Your body tensed, although thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice. Or, you hoped he didn’t.

“How’re things, John?” William asks, and your dad raises his head. They exchange a brief but firm handshake. As William’s hand falls back to his side, the one resting on your shoulder dips to the small of your back.

“Welp, I’m alive,” your dad laughs. “Kid’s car won’t start. I’m thinking it’s the alternator. Mind taking a look at it for me?” William’s eyes seem to drift towards you a moment, giving you a look that makes you shiver.

William nods, happy to help. His large hand left your back as he went to take a look at your car. You stand by your dad, rubbing anxiously at your sweaty arms, trying so desperately not to stare at William. He was leaned over your car’s front, both hands rested on the raised hood. A few moments go by, silently waiting for William’s diagnosis before he finally shuts the hood of the car.

“It does seem to be an issue with the alternator. I would recommend getting it replaced. It would be cheaper to buy a new one yourself.” He leans a hand on the hood of your car.

“Well,” your dad starts, “‘spose I can take a trip to the store.” He nudges you gently.

“You stay here with William. I’ll be back soon.”

You look up to the sky, as to say seriously? As your dad leaves, you take a glance at William. You’ve never been left alone with him before. But when your eyes land on him, you realize he’s already looking at you, with a hard stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in place.

“It’s quite hot out here. Why don’t we head inside until he gets back.” Once again, his hand lands ever so softly on your back and he begins to lead you towards your house.

“Wait, m-my house?”

His hand lowers, dancing along your spine before stopping at the small of your back. “Why not?”

You don’t argue further. After all, you realize you have no reason not to invite him into your house. So you allow him to lead you reluctantly, until you’re standing within your own air conditioned home. It makes the sweat coating your body feel cold. You suppressed a shiver.

“So, how is school going?” He asks. He lowers his hand off of your back, and you feel your body relax. “Enjoying your first year of university?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer quickly. You cast your gaze downwards, as if to avoid his grey-eyed stare. He falls silent, and for a moment, you’re afraid that maybe you said something wrong.

Did you?

He hums. A deep sound that rumbles in his chest and makes your breath hitch in your throat. “Sir, hm? Can’t say I’ve ever heard you call me that before.” He steps closer. You stumble back, but he catches you with a tight grip to your forearm.

He pulls you closer to him. Where he lets his gaze linger a bit too long on your smaller form, like he was sizing you up. Finally, he brings your hand up to his lips, where he puckers his lips and presses soft kisses to each individual finger, keeping eye contact with you. You shudder, he grins against your knuckles, loving the effect he has on you.

“I-I'm… sorry?”

“No, no,” he stops you. You feel his other hand touch your chin and lift your head to force you to meet his eyes. You swallow the forming lump in your throat. “Say it again, love.”

“W…what?”

“I said,” his deep, aged voice turns stern, pulling you ever closer until you stood skin-to-skin, his free hand sliding around your torso. “Say it again.”

“I… s-sir?”

Something sparked in his eyes. He swoops down, and suddenly his lips are on yours. You inhale sharply into the kiss, unsure of what to do with yourself. His hand that was on your chin slides to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you impossibly closer into him.

It was a desperate kiss; one steeped in passion that ignited a fire deep in your belly.

And so you find yourself giving into him, leaning into a kiss that, until now, you’ve only ever dreamed of while alone in your room late at night, desperately chasing your high. He expertly parts your lips, and then his tongue was deep in your mouth, his hands grabbing at every inch of you they could get ahold of. Your hands gripped helplessly at his arms.

“W-william-” you pull away, breathless from his kiss.

“Hm?” He sucks his head down into the crook of your neck. He sucks, licks, and bites at your throat, pulling helpless gasps and whines from your throat.

“M-my dad will be home soon.” Not that you wanted him to stop. But what would your father say if he saw you like this with his best friend? Your neighbor and not to mention, a much older man.

“Hmm… then we better make this quick then, yeah?”

What happened next was a blur to you. You find yourself in the comfort of your own bedroom, sprawled out under him on the mattress. He hovers over you and makes quick work of your clothes, hurriedly pulling your pants down your legs and your shirt over your head. Your clothes joined each other on the floor until you were bare to him, chest heaving breathlessly.

He kisses you again, lips hot and heavy against your own. You reach down to unbutton his own pants, and he swats your hand away with a chuckle.

“Quite impatient,” he says, as if he weren’t just as desperate as you were. “You have to tell me what you waaant~” He teases, His hand reaches down to his button.

“William,” you whine. Your face flushes with embarrassment. “Please?”

“Please what, darling?” Oh, how you wish you could wipe the smug look off of his face. “You want my cock inside of you, don’t you? Poor thing.” He faux pouts at you, brushing a thumb across your bottom lip. He tugs on your lip, as if to coax the words from your mouth. “Go on. Say it.”

“I… I want it, sir,” you mewl at him, “I-I want your cock inside me.”

The button comes undone. He pulls his pants and briefs down his hips and his dick springs free, hard and glistening with pre.

God, how long have you wanted this?

He settles between your legs and he scans your nude body, he looked ravenous. William pumps his cock in his fist a few times, smirking at your not so subtle gaze fixed on his cock, and brings the head to your aching cunt, where he teases the head up and down your slick folds. You didn’t even realize just how wet you were until you heard it as he coated himself in your slick. it made your face heat up in embarrassment.

“Please-”

“Please what?”

“Please sir,” you comply, begging him, “please put it in.”

“As you wish, my dear.” He grins at you, and slowly he begins pushing himself inside.

You gasp. It’s an intrusion that’s mildly uncomfortable at worst, yet makes your toes curl with pleasure, and your head go all fuzzy.

He bottoms out inside of you and you can’t help but notice just how full you feel. You moan as he rocks his hips a few times, shallowly against you.

And then he was moving, pulling all the way out before he was ramming into you. He raises your legs, pushing them back against your chest.

His hips crash into you over and over. You whimper and moan, grasping helplessly at his arms and tears well in your eyes. A series of growls and grunts leave his lips, his grip on your legs almost bruising.

“Fuck,” he curses, the word said between grit teeth. He presses his weight into you, pressing you deep into your mattress and pounds his cock into you. It makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, and pulls sinful cries of his name from your lips over and over.

He angles his hips slightly upward, and suddenly you were seeing stars. “Oh god!” You cry, your blunt nails digging crescents into his scarred arms.

“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “cry for me.”

And you do. You cry until your toes curl and moans turn into high pitched “ohs”, and then you were cumming, cumming so hard your breaths turned ragged and your chest tightened enough to make you dizzy.

He mutters something else, totally incomprehensible to you as he fucks you through your high. He raises your legs, laying them across his shoulders. He leans into you, hammering into your cunt with a vice grip on your hips.

“William,” you moan again, clawing at his arm as a thrust hits your cervix.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” William tucks his head into the crook of your neck and his hand reaches for your throat where it rests lazily. His hips stutter a few times, and he buries his cock into you with a breathless moan of his own. He stays there, spilling his seed into you. He milks himself dry before he pulls out of you to watch the cum trickle out of your cunt, mesmerized.

“What a mess.” He tuts at you. A drags a finger up your folds, collecting his seed into his finger and shoves it back inside of you. You give a tired moan at that, thoroughly worn out.

The two of you laid together a moment, simply basking in the afterglow of sex. He leans down, pressing an adoring kiss to your forehead. He rubs your hips, soothing the spots which were sure to bruise by tomorrow. “You did so good for me, love.”

“Y/n? William?” You heard your father call from the living room. Dread settled over your shoulders.

“Fuck.”

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