#especially with a heavy and sensitive topic like that

[imgonnaeatyouhyugosugitmoto]

“I wanna see it, wanna feel your love…”

-Love Taste, Moe Shop

Art by the lovely: @ alyysah._ AKA Waza on Tiktok!

Reverse Crowe Headcanons

Okay so we know that Reverse Crowe is basically the yandere in the AU and obviously emo lmao. Reverse Crowe will also be referred to as R! Crowe and Reverse Sol as R! Sol for Convenience fyi! Sol or “normal” Sol is mentioned here to.

⚠️Sensitive Topic Warning: Murder, Violence, Suggestive topics. You have been warned

—————————————————————

Headcanons🐦‍⬛

If the friendgroup is the same where its; Britney, Jessie, Deryl and Geo then maybe they’d be emo or just the same (just a thought), If his friendgroup is the same as his “Normal” group then he would be the random emo looking kid they adopted but they’d still get along, though R! Crowe would be paranoid that his friends also like you and if so, he would NOT spare them.

If Reverse Crowe was friends with Hyugo you can imagine he’s gets annoyed with Hyugo like Sol does, but it’s also a possibility that R! Crowe is more calm compared to Sol

You can imagine Reverse Crowe being a more calm and calculated Yandere who’s obsessed with you, rather than a irrational one like Sol. For example in the “No Witnesses Ending” You wouldn’t even discover the body in the shed. R! Crowe would have likely killed R! Sol in a more remote place. And He definitely used R! Sol’s phone to text his friends and you that he was “moving away” (obviously he’s dead). R! Crowe would be better at hiding his tracks and hiding his aggression.

R! Crowe would also be very obsessed with you but he can hide it better than Sol. Obviously he stalks you! He’s just inconspicuous about it…

He would definitely use a Crowbar instead of an Axe, yk since his name is “Crowe”. And when he eventually murders R! Sol he beats his head in with the Crowbar, but no decapitation atleast! (Tbh a head getting bashed in is still quite disturbing)

R! Crowe would dispose of bodies in the Ocean in trashbags (Dexter Type shi) since it’s less suspicious compared to burying a body. (I doubt Sol disposes of them himself He probably has Hyugo do it)

Even though R! Crowe’s nickname is Crowe the reason behind it in this case is that he prefers it because Jericho doesn’t fit the vibe and Crows (the birds) are cool (he just wants to aurafarm)

Definitely wears Guyliner and dark eyeshadow

(Heavy Headcanon) but you can imagine that he uses silver loc jewlery in his hair especially on his braid

Seems like the type to wear a lot of silver jewlery, such as leather bracelets and silver necklaces. ALSO! Silver Studded Belts!!!

He is a natural hair color person, and doesn’t dye his hair not even bleaching either

Gives off CD Collection of really niche emobands

(Personal Headcanon) but he seems like the kind of guy to go to punk shows/hardcore shows basically small emo (ahhh) concerts.

Would still be a nepo baby since regular is hinted to be welloff/rich but an emo rich kid who hides the fact that he has money

Has definitely been called a “poser atleast once on campus

Has Vertical Nipple Piercings

Also Imagine R!Crowe with a anti-eyebrow piercing

Seems like a knife collector. Not the Kitchen ones, the very fancy butterfly ones. He’d also know how to do the fancy tricks and spinning with them too so he can impress you.

I also see R! Crowe as a more consensual Yandere (like Ren from 14 days with you)

He has definitely snuck into your apartment but instead of getting all freaky with you, he’s probably cuddling you or sniffing you. Atleast he’s not rubbing his dick all over you (unlike a certain guy named Sol).

He’s creepy but not freaky (haha)

Actually I lied he’s probably masturbating to you but more so in private instead of a bathroom stall on campus.

When he draws you, his artstyle would be closer to Realism but I can also see him making abstract art of you like Picasso (yes quite contrasting art styles)

Definitely prefers graphite and ink as his art medium but he also know how to work with pastels

I would like to think R! Crowe similar to Crowe enjoys holding your hand (similar to how seaotters do it, I saw this in a comment section)

Speaking of Animals R! Crowe would like seaotters just like Crowe. There wouldn’t be any swapping where R! Crowe likes horses and R! Sol likes seaotters. Some characteristics would stay the same/similar sorta… (Crowe and seaotters is confirmed on Fantasia Tumblr, along with other TKATB characters)

R! Crowe is definitely not as friendly or popular as his counterpart. He would also not be on student council. Though R! Crowe could be in some sort of campus club, maybe the music club or art club

Speaking of Campus Clubs, R! Crowe would show up to meetings whenever he feels like it and usually goes alone, maybe he’d bring a friend with him… But he would prefer to ask you, only if you don’t mind!

If you and R! Crowe are at the dating point you and him have atleast done a mall date.

R! Crowe has money dw! He’ll spoil you!

At the mall, you and him have definitely gone into a hot topic or spencers. Bonus Points if you’re also into alternative fashion.

Random but R! Crowe definitely has a studded phone case

I think R! Crowe would call you “Pumpkin” just like how Sol does but I can also see him calling you a different pet name maybe “Sapphire” for example “my Sapphire” or something. Why Sapphire? Well…because his eyes are Sapphire Blue (idk the discourse with this)

OR R! Crowe wouldn’t use nicknames at all, it depends on how you feel about it. Likely he would ask you about it during a hangout.

R! Crowe is paitient about courting you, he waits and he doesn’t mind because he knows he can get rid of potential threats with ease.

As stated before R! Crowe isn’t irrational as Sol, he’s plotting on you and is smart about it.

If R! Crowe played an instrument he’d play Bass (just a feeling)

He’s probably gotten bullied before but doesn’t care and finds it a waste of time especially if it stops him from seeing you. Rather than getting beatup he just walks away. Non-Reactive and is able to get out of bad situations.

Similar to Crowe he doesn’t mind fighting for you, and would gladly get beat for you. Only for you though.

The manipulative type of Yandere. R! Crowe is Cunning. Has definitely gaslit you before but it’s not like you would know any better. He can lie like nothing plus he’s always Calm, or atleast is Calm in front of you.

R! Crowe is care about your opinion more than anything. He does not want to give off a bad impression of himself to you.

—————————————————————

Excuse any writing errors. This may be my longest one! Let me know if you have any ideas especially with the nickname one. Also I appreciate the support I’ve been getting on my last posts tysm! Ygs are perverts/degenerates but twin…I plan on writing (normal) Crowe headcanons and also actual fanfiction in the future. Funfact I’m mutuals with the artist I mentioned hehe 😈

[blackbackedjackal]

Hey Jackal sincere question, is the quad all black werewolf thing something you don't like others in general doing because of its black trauma symbolism, or is it mostly just in this context with this dog person? Just curious!

It was with Dog specifically since we were collaborating. June’s Gévaudan form in her narrative is a representation of Black trauma and is a concept I came up with for Strawberry Moon. With us collaborating, I wasn't comfortable with the narrative inconsistency of using the visuals outside of that. Essentially in that image you had a white woman in a sexy pose infront of a woc that was drawn with a narrative representation of Black trauma, and that was what I was taking issue with.

Not to mention, Lacey had already been compared to June multiple times at this point since Dog and Ependa copied her design and tried to deny it. This felt like she was testing my boundaries with how much copying she could get away with and in one of the worst ways.

[estrellum]

Genuine live reaction to the current event story

[rotagnus]

advice for your specific situation---<3

hi babies!! i hope all of you are doing okay. you can ask this about any situation you want, i'll try to be general, but there may be some more specific messages littered along the way.

this is a bit of a heavy reading and it deals with certain topics, so as always, be wary!

pile 1.

you guys are absolutely hopeless for some reason. shot down multiple times, it's hard to keep your head up, but your relentless hope is the only thing that's gotten you through tough times in the past, so you keep your head up even though you're crawling. there's a lot of disharmony in matters of the heart; a lot of you could have been very naive towards some problem of an emotional nature, and you may be feeling as if your heart is shattered, or perhaps tender. you are curious about the world, and have an innate belief in the goodness of people even though you keep getting backstabbed over and over again. you've probably asked for a sign recently; a sign to keep your hope, to keep your heart open regardless of the troubles you've experienced. you should look inwards; stop focusing on the minute details of the physical world. you probably have problems with self-sabotage and causing yourself to be in pain, take that as you may. it's hard to not fall back into old patterns, to keep your head up, especially when you've convinced yourself that the ending to this situation is bad. the answer is, you must keep your hope. you must, you must, you must. it is the right thing to do. you will be victorious, in the end, my bleeding heart. that phrase describes you very well. sensitive, emotional, but you prize those aspects of yourself. continue to do so. nurture yourself. you worry about other people, about their problems, but the truth is that you must focus on your faith.

a lot of you seem to have lost your belief in something, going through a dark phase. many are already on a journey to self-discovery, but you feel like you've taken a major step back. you may see other people getting what they want in life, people who are further behind you, and you ask God, why not me? truth is, you have a deep desire to grow. all these people you worry about chose the easy way out and will have a lot of problems to unpack later on in their life. you have your guardian angel to support you, you have many, many pillars of support. soon, everything will clear up, and you will see the answer. don't force yourself to choose an ending before it's time.

a cycle is ending for you. you must let this dark phase come over you. a lot of you might get your period soon or perhaps experience some stormy weather, going through the winter of this ending phase. for this situation to bloom, you must set out boundaries and lay out the ground-flooring for the next cycle to come. what do you want out of your life, darling? not what your parents want, what your friends want, what was laid out in front of you. a lot of you want to be seen. i think you'll get that, but only when you allow yourself to be. this new cycle will bring truths; truths you avoid. it'll bring your true self to the light, and you'll feel belly-up. i think this will be a focal point in your life, for it will either be a cycle you have to keep relearning, or you will finally accept that you must be yourself, authentically. this situation is entirely dependent on you, and how you face these adversities.

pile 2.

you guys are convinced you know everything, through and through. you are on hell of an assumption-maker, my friend. you guys are also givers. you guys are extremely self-aware of your duality, yet you beat yourself up for doing anything out of the extremely high morals you've set for yourself. some of you are guilty about a certain situation; God is telling me that you must forgive yourself. forgive yourself. you can't always be pure and good. your goodness comes from your ability to forgive, and your ability to grow. a lot of you are discovering patterns in your life and patterns in your thinking, which in itself is a very hard process, so i applaud you for that. you've got skeletons in your closet, and they're all coming out, and you're convincing yourself that you are a terrible person because you've gone through shit. FALSE!!! a lot of those things were out of your control. relax, baby. a lot of you are feeling as if this situation is hopeless. partially, some of you felt like everything was going well; it was going great, in fact, and recently something destroyed this perfect world that you had. it may have collided with your new, fresh belief in good things. you are tired of growing through pain. i think a lot of you are pretending that self-love isn't part of the journey. honey baby, you must love yourself very deeply before you can throw yourself onto a sword. yes, life has risks; but a lot of you seem to self-sacrifice yourself to the point that you are marred with nothing but scars and bruises. you view yourself as dirty. you need to develop better self-love and self-respect instead of letting people walk all over you.

your hard work isn't going unacknowledged. you need to set up the basic infrastructure for your life before you can start adding players to the game. you have a pure heart, and sometimes, what the heart wants...isn't necessarily what the heart needs, or deserves. you need to accept that. what you think is perfect for you, may not be perfect for you. also, it may be a better thing to keep a stone-face for a while, to people who you are not very close with. do not tell them your good experiences; people can be jealous, and share your sweet things with sweet people. i feel as though you will get what you want when you grow as a person; you can't start a habit for 10 days and decide that it's all permanent on the 10th day. it takes time. it takes lessons. you asked to be strong, for growth, and this is what you get.

10 is very significant for you guys, i am hearing. OOOUUU girl okay okay. i see. so my deck has hearts instead of swords, and two of hearts fell out, as well as the magician. i think that the magician represents the universe while the two of hearts represent you and someone else, or something else. a lot of you seek perfection with this other subject; you want everything to be orchestrated on YOUR timing. this won't happen! the magician is orchestrating things to happen on divine timing. you can't rush things; right now, focus on making sure that you're the version of yourself you want to be in order to get this blessing. things move on their own timing, with the chariot; you are simply a passenger in this moving vehicle, you cannot tell the driver to go faster. look out of the window and observe the beautiful landscape instead of rushing. the car ain't gonna go faster anyways LOL. 333 is significant, too. change is coming. your intuition is on point; a lot of you already know what you must do for this situation. the lovers fell out again; i think that this may be about romantic love, for some of you. you guys have a lot of dead things you're burying, and you're not done yet; when you'll finish this cycle, you'll get what you want. sailor song may be significant for some of you; i like the way you kiss me by artemas, too. enjoy this journey.

pile 3.

you guys are lost on what to do and where to go. you feel like you've finished a certain cycle in your life, but now you're at a cross-roads, and your heart, soul, body, and mind, all want different things. which do you follow? i feel like a lot of you may have gone ghost on some people; frozen in action is what i'm hearing. maybe you stopped telling people about things in your life, because people from the past wonder about you. it's important for you not to fall into past patterns, dear. a lot of you are very deep feelers, very deep thinkers, and you see people for who they are; their bads, their goods, you understand it is all part of being human. the truth is that people can be both good and bad simultaneously while not deserving a role in your life. it's your movie, baby, and you don't need to have everyone as a star in it. you're such a sweet thing, and you deserve sweetness in your life. a lot of you may be growing closer to your friends, and i advise that you hang-out with them, or talk. you grew up either very alone, or with a very close-knit group of people, forged out of pains and sufferings. you're a realist, and you have a very straight view of the world, not allowing yourself to see it as something extremely optimistic, as pile 1 does. when you do, it makes you overwhelmed; it feels as if your heart has multiplied, beating in so many rhythms it confuses you. you're reminiscing on people, specifically; you, my love, have a deep love for humanity. a commitment to bettering the world is very significant here. you've distanced yourself from society, in a way, but you still want people to bloom. you are wise beyond your years.

but that doesn't mean that you have to be so strong all the time. it's alright to break down and cry. you don't have to be the parent, you don't have to carry all this weight on your shoulders. i promise you, the universe/God will listen to all your burdens. cry. speak to whatever you have faith in. cry again. i feel like a lot of you just need to blurt out whatever you're feeling so you can understand what you feel. whisper at night, write it down in a journal, speak to the stars, speak to a person. you are so treasured. a lot of you feel like you have to perform for others. everyone's always watching you, watching you, for a stumble. you MUST let go. stop caring what others think. they ain't gonna like you if they ain't like you already. their opinions don't matter. you have a voice that could start wars, and the right people will stand behind you and not betray you. there are still good people out there, and for your situation, YOU MUST UNDERSTAND IT IS NOT ALWAYS GOOD TO BE BY YOURSELF. being alone is good, for self-reflection...being alone because you're scared of opening up is bad. you see people as weapons, weapons of love and pain--look at them as people. honey, you are so wise, but sometimes, simplicity is the answer.

a lot of you have to be strong right now. everyone's watching you--you're the star of the show, to God, to higher beings, to the people in your life. be confident; you are in this beautiful role for a reason! dance, be yourself. people's feelings will reveal themselves, if you feel as if there are liars or untruthful people in your life, a lot of the things you're worrying about will reveal themselves to you. you just have to accept your beauty and work on your self-love. a lot of you doubt your own self, and you have an awkward perception of yourself as a person. kick yourself out of this state, and look at yourself, baby, you're the whole bag of cookies and MORE!! you're a damn deal! you're gorgeous, beautiful, smart! read those affirmations. do the work. you'll be a-okay, honey!

[linkons-most-wanted]

Sylus, Intimacy, and Desire: An Essay

Inspired by this excellent video essay on Zayne's intimacy and a few comments asking for a similar analysis of Sylus, I wanted to share a few of my thoughts!

I actually think that Sylus and Zayne are great to contrast to each other on this topic because they each make relatively overt bids for physical intimacy but in very different ways.

While Zayne is outwardly restrained, where that restraint causes his hidden internal desires to intensify to the point of no longer being controllable, Sylus is outwardly flirtatious/assertive, but then actually very comfortable managing/controlling his desires.

Sylus's character demonstrates that when desire is embraced and expected, and appropriately indulged, it can be confidently controlled and regulated. It can seem paradoxical at first--that the most "forward" character is also the one most interested in specific, verbal consent--but I'd argue it's spot on in terms of psychology.

Sylus knows and accepts his desires

In Midnight Stealth, he says, "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle. Especially when it thinks it can escape from me." There's clearly a sensual/sexual element to this, and it points directly at kink, where power and power exchance are tantamount.

More on power exchange in a second, but what I want to emphasize here is that Sylus is very comfortable with what's considered to be a very "dark" desire. (Dark romance girlies, sound off.)

Contrast this to Zayne, who feels very conflicted about even very normative, expected desires and emotions.

Sylus has a lot of reason to be very comfortable with his desires, regardless of their nature, due to his powers as a dragon. He's able to pull out others' hidden desires, so of course he knows his own. As we see in Beyond Cloudfall, the types of desire he respects are when people are true to their hearts--ie honest with themselves and others about what they truly want, even/especially when others consider those desires to be dark/deviant. MC is the only person he's met who's honest in this way and truly follows her heart.

Power exchange

We get many signs that Sylus is very interested in power exchange, such as the entirety of No Defense Zone where he taunts MC to "tame" him, and the recurring theme of "taming" and "winning his heart" that's made especially clear in Final Farewell (the Abyssal Chaos Commission) dialogue. In Night of Secrecy, when MC indicates she wants control, he says he can't give it to her--"At least, not yet."

He is actively looking the relationship to get to a point where he feels safe giving full control to MC.

Conversely, when it comes to being dominant, he doesn't value dominance for dominance's sake--he's constatly talking about how boring "weak prey" is. What is attractive to him about MC, and when she submits to him, is specifically that she's strong and powerful, specifically that she trusts him with herself. If she didn't have power to give up, power that he respected, he simply wouldn't be interested.

Delightfully, in the AU of Innocent Birdcage, we get a version of Sylus who is similarly comfortable with his desires, so we get an even more overt demonsration of bondage kink. Even when not frenzied, he's tugging that thread of power exchange, reminding MC that he's dangerous while simultaneously smitten with her courage.

Sylus gets off on more than just sex

What is so interesting to me about Sylus's portrayal is that he's very flirtatious, very forward, and very sensual--but with relatively very few on-screen/-page kisses. We get very sexually charged moments with face touching, hands (MY GOD THE HANDS), etc, but the tension is rarely diffused.

We see Sylus's physical sensitivity especially in Lost Oasis, No Defense Zone, and Innocent Birdcage. Part of why we see these sensual moments not devolve abruptly into heavy petting, like we do with Zayne, is that Sylus is not in a hurry. We see this in Night of Secrecy too--MC has to get quite forward for him to finally "give in" (though he never really loses control).

Sylus enjoys the waiting. Unlike Zayne, who sees his restraint as a matter of life and death, to Sylus, it's a game. He enjoys seeing how much teasing he can take (No Defense Zone) and putting MC in situations where he doesn't know how she'll respond ("Sylus and Tartarus are in your hands...").

Given their history in Beyond Cloudfall, things like forehead kisses are just as precious to Sylus as other more overtly sexual types of affection. Sylus is willing to accept affection and sensation in any form MC is willing to provide it, while also enjoying a bit of power play. So, touching her face, grabbing her chin, throwing her around a bit--gestures which become more affectionate and more accepted by MC over time, but still retain their value to him.

He's a young dragon

One of my absolute favorite moments in Beyond Cloudfall is when MC says, "You're a young dragon, aren't you?" It humanizes Sylus in this really profound way, reminding us that he's still figuring certain things out as he goes.

Given that he's a creature very in-touch with his instincts and desires, you're not going to get a typical virginal trope. He's certainly not naive to the mechanics--and you can certainly imagine he'd be aware of all kinds of sexual desires thanks to his draconic powers.

But, MC is still the one to introduce him to the concept of a forehead kiss. We see him be bold and flirtatious in Bloodnight Blaze, confirming that he's well in-touch with those desires, but he seems to value the tender moments equally, if not moreso.

There is this sense in his character of wanting to explore things with MC, of wanting to learn with her, to grow together. There's an openness and receptivity to his character in that way. Unlike Zayne, he may not have all that many specific ideas of what he wants to do to/with MC--he wants to experience that intimacy with her having equal agency and initiative.

He wants to be wanted

I posted recently about the close-up shot of Sylus's eye in Night of Secrecy, where we're shown very clearly that he's not using his power to manipulate desire.

Given that Sylus has always been percieved as a dangerous, violent creature by everyone except a select few, to be seen in a tender way is unfamiliar and vulnerable.

He wants to experience her desire in its raw, un-tampered-with state. He wants to know what she truly wants, and does not want to create a scenario where he's in some way manipulating or coercing her desire, whether using his eye or otherwise. Her genuine desire is more precious and appealing to him than mere sex.

As much as I am begggingggg for more Sylus make-out cards, I think moments like we see in Magnum Opus are far more precious to him.

A very strong piece of supporting evidence here is what he says in Approaching Dusk when MC asks how she can get him to willingly stay in her trap. He tells her that she should ask him for things, show her vulnerable side, and make him feel as though she relies on him. That is much more seductive to Sylus than physical pleasure.

What consent means to Sylus

I think the idea of getting consent can be construed in a "cover your ass" way, as in, "well, you have to do this or you're doing something wrong" so it's a "good guy" thing to do.

But, one of the things to be found within responsible kink is a much more profound appreciation for consent. To pull on the themes above, consent isn't just a box to check; it communicates genuine, vulnerable desire. It also affirms that the power exchange is wanted on both sides.

When Sylus asks for consent, he's saying, "You have power in this scenario. Are you willing to give it to me?"

It's the very fact that she can and would say 'no' that makes her 'yes' so very intoxicating and appealing to him. Even in Long Awaited Revelry, he's giving her options. It's her own greed/desire that makes her agree to his terms--not her lack of alternatives. She doesn't actually have to get the Aether Core, but she wants it enough to take risks.

Night of Secrecy

Let's dig deeper into some key dialogue in Night of Secrecy:

MC: “I told you that a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”  Sylus: “Oh… so you want control… Unfortunately… I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.” His warm hands scorch my skin and slide up my back unhindered, settling firmly on my waist. When gripping a gun, they’re cold and unyielding, but when they touch me, they become tender and warm. And now they’re a weapon of their own, teasing and tormenting me. Sylus: “…Don’t run.” MC: “You’re… so annoying…” SYlus: “I won’t deny it. I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy… And I won’t be leaving until this greed is completely satisfied. Ah, I misspoke. Greed can never be satisfied… But you can temporarily soothe it.” He takes my hand and places it against his chest. His voice is slow and earnest as he asks the question once more… Sylus: “Say it again. Kitten, do you want it?”  My eyes linger on his, and our heart rates sync up.  I lean down over him, running my fingers through his sweat-damp hair.  MC: “This is my answer.”

In "And now they’re a weapon of their own, teasing and tormenting me," we see more of this indulgence in power play and power exchange. You can easily imagine Sylus challenging himself to see how slowly he can go, to focus more on MC. Him saying "Don't run" can be interpreted as MC trying to get out of his grip--not to escape him, but to accelerate the intimacy, to escape the "teasing and tormenting".

Sylus's "greed" includes taking things slowly. It includes build-up and power-play. It includes spurring on MC's own desires.

We get this really lovely back-to-back of "I won’t be leaving until this greed is completely satisfied" to “Say it again. Kitten, do you want it?” 

He is greedy... for her genuine consent. He wants her to want it.

I think "I won’t be leaving until this greed is completely satisfied" is best understood as Sylus being clear to MC that he wants her too. Neither this, nor “I’m hoping ‘yes’ is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore” can be construed as him pushing boundaries because MC has already explicitly invited him into that territory. I interpret the hand that she puts up to stop him as her wanting to be "on top", not as her wanting to stop or slow down, and Sylus's remarks as specifically, verbally affirming his desire for her.

Even him saying "Greed can never be satisfied…" indicates that his everyday baseline is wanting her in this way, and he's very comfortable with those desires and how to keep them in check.

Desire without entitlement

At no point does Sylus ever behave as if he's entitled to MC's affection, physical or otherwise. He always desires her, but does not have specific expectations of her. He's always asking, "so what will you do?" The fact that he doesn't know the answer is what makes the question so compelling to him.

If he wanted sex, he could get it--he's powerful enough and persuasive enough. Which makes that conquest irrelevant and boring to him. What is far, far more interesting is co-discovering MC's true desires with her, just like they did in Beyond Cloudfall.

Repression and regulation

In the way that Zayne's character represents repressed desire, Sylus's character represents regulated desire.

His desires are accepted and known, not rejected and bottled up. Thus, he's able to approach regulation in a playful way, appreciating the challenge that it provides and finding ways to express his affection and sate his desires that don't put pressure on MC.

It is because he is comfortable with his sexuality that it's able to be secondary to his primary desires with MC.

In conclusion

So, as much as I want more kiss cards for them, the writers are cooking. There's a specific point they want to make, and I think they're making it beautifully. I am constantly delighted by the complexity and nuance that the writers bring to Sylus's character.

I'm hopeful that as we see Sylus's and MC's relationship deepen, we'll see MC gain more confidence to initiate, which will then translate to more on-page and on-screen intimate moments.

And until then... there's always fanfic. 😅

[princesseilish]

QUITE LIFE

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: readers sensitive, no mentions of y/n? Billie is in love

Synopsis: in an interview things dive deep into billie’s wife who she mainly talks about but never shows

The studio was calm, the air filled with the faint hum of production equipment. Billie sat in the spotlight, her blue eyes shadowed with something unspoken, though her posture remained steady. The interviewer, a seasoned journalist known for navigating both the light and heavy topics with grace, leaned forward, voice warm but curious.

“Billie, you’ve always been vocal about mental health, authenticity, and protecting your space, but I have to ask—your engagement and wedding, both of which you managed to keep incredibly private, came as a surprise to many. Why did you decide to keep something so personal away from the public eye?”

Billie tilted her head back slightly, as if searching for words on the ceiling, her lips pressing together before a quiet exhale escaped her. “Because she’s my world,” she said softly, her voice cracking just enough to betray her emotion.

The interviewer didn’t interrupt.

Billie’s hand rose to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping momentarily to her lap. “Look, I’ve been in this industry long enough to know how it works,” she started. “And I know what happens when people think they’re entitled to every piece of you. I signed up for this; she didn’t. And I’ve seen what the world can do to someone who isn’t prepared for that kind of… attention, especially someone as sensitive as her.”

A faint, almost wistful smile curved her lips. “She’s not built for it. Like, she can’t even handle the car radio being too loud without constantly feeling overwhelmed.” Billie let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “I used to tease her about it—how her world is so quiet, so calm. But now I see how much better that is. She’s taught me to appreciate that quiet.”

The room seemed heavier now, Billie’s words painting vivid images of the love she carried for her wife. The interviewer hesitated before speaking, sensing the depth of what Billie was sharing. “It sounds like you’re very protective of her.”

“I am,” Billie said without hesitation, her voice firm but tender. “She saved me. And I don’t mean in some cheesy, fairytale way—I mean she literally saved me. She loved me when I couldn’t even look in the mirror. When I was at my lowest, when I felt like I was drowning and dragging everyone down with me, she stayed. She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Her voice broke slightly, and she swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather herself. “I don’t think people realize how terrifying it is to be loved like that. It’s… humbling. And it makes you want to do everything, anything, to deserve it.”

The interviewer’s voice softened. “Do you feel like you deserve it now?”

Billie’s laugh was quiet, almost self-deprecating. “I’m trying,” she admitted. “But I know one thing for sure: I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. The thought of her being overwhelmed, of people shoving cameras in her face or saying cruel things about her online—it would break her. And if that happened, it’d be my fault for not shielding her from it.”

The interviewer nodded, her eyes glistening. “That’s a lot of love, Billie.”

“It is,” Billie agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But she’s worth it. Every single bit of it.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics after that, but Billie’s words hung in the air, raw and heavy with emotion. Fans who watched the interview would later flood social media with their admiration for her vulnerability, but in that moment, Billie wasn’t thinking about the audience or the cameras.

She was thinking about her wife—her quiet, sensitive wife who was probably curled up on the couch at home, reading a book or humming softly to herself.

And she meant it. Protecting her wife wasn’t just a choice—it was a promise, one she’d keep for the rest of her life.

[rottenbologna]

The machine in Barcelona colours

Pairings ♤ Ex! Alexia Putellas x reader

Genre ♤ angst

Warnings ♤ This fic talks about heavy topics such as self-harm, poor mental health, and excessive alcohol consumption. Please don't read if you're sensitive to these things.

“I don't think this is working anymore.” The words came out like a sigh of relief. There wasn't any cheating, no major fight or betrayal. Just what felt like a huge burden being let go of.

“Ok” You didn't scream, you didn't ask why, and you didn’t cry. You just accepted the decision Alexia made without a fuss and to say the older woman was surprised was an understatement.

It's been weeks in the making between the endless games with little to no rest Alexia felt like your relationship was just another thing that was weighing down her plate. She was prepared for whatever version of anger you would throw at her but the way you stared at her your eyes void of any emotion was unsettling. She would have much preferred you lashed out at her cause your calm made her feel uneasy.

“Is that all?” Alexia scoffed lightly.

“What did you expect? that we cuddle? You're the one that's had enough so can you please leave?” You open the door for Alexia. she had no choice but to walk out and you closed the door softly behind her. She waited for any signs of muffled crying or screaming but all she got was the continued unsettling calm.

From that day on back at barça it was business as usual. It's like you became a machine in barça clothes. You were clinical and precise. You passed with an accuracy your teammates hadn't seen before, timed tackles to a key and even scored goals with surgical precision they didn't expect from a center back. But they weren't blind the locker room noticed the spark that was gone.

“You ok English?” Patri asked one day before training, choosing to be the brave one to brace your unusual calm.

“Sure.” you replied flatly tying your laces even tighter not once looking up at the young midfielder.

The answer had become a popular one. No one on the team can remember the last time you'd even said a full sentence. But they left it alone at the command of Pere who was just soaking in the glory of your recent performance and Alexia the team advocate didn't seem bothered by your behavior so they figured it was better to leave well enough alone.

Alexia did noticed and she was bothered. She watched as the y/n she knew died the day she made her choice now replaced with this one. In meetings, on the pitch and even walking past each in the hallway it looked like you'd traded your soul in exchange for not falling apart.

The worst part was the silence between you and Alexia. Even on the pitch you refused to acknowledge her unless you absolutely had no choice and every now and then the older woman wonders if she maybe made a mistake. You never gave her the chance to find out either. You weren't cruel, just gone protected by buried emotions and a steel wall.

But at night when you were alone you'd sit on the balcony where you sat most nights with Alexia talking about everything and nothing all at once. You'd remember how she'd laughed and it would echo in and mix with the sounds of the buzzing city below.

The memories would take you away to the what ifs until you were up all night into the mornings where you'd turn those memories off just to lace up your boots and head to the locker room not once meeting anyone's eyes.

In your mind love and feelings were useless emotions. They didn't win you trophies so you kept them in a cage. Gone were the day's where you'd crack a joke in the tunnel where everyone was lined up to calm their nerves before big games or the one that would offer comfort after tough losses. The goals kept coming, the tackles and even assists on the pitch you were silent, effective and ruthless. You became a well oiled football machine

No one tried to come close even Jana who you regarded as a younger sister. Not even Alexia. Especially not Alexia. But even machines have points when they break. That's when you reach for things that didn't ask questions or think that you'd change.

First it was because you couldn't sleep because of memories of you and Alexia tormented you.A few sleeping pills nothing too major just something to take the edge off. Nothing major

But as games kept piling up and the pain started to break through the ground from where you worked so hard to bury it you needed something to quiet the buzzing in your head and the ache in your heart. The pills weren't enough so you added alcohol. Just a little drink after games or training until a little drink turned into a bottle or two.

You still showed up to training and games. Gave your all and repeated the cycle. Coaches noticed the effects quickly. The drop in your weight, slower reactions to the ball and the bruises that didn't heal but you quickly dismissed it as stress from the buildup of games. No one pushed too hard because even at your worst you were still winning games.

The team watched you deteriorate but still didn't approach you in fear of the dead look in your eyes. They were too afraid of confirming what they already knew cause many weren't sure what to do after they confirmed the truth or if you even would accept that truth and get help.

“Y/n what's happening to you?” Alexia asked beyond concern at this point pulling you away from prying ears. You didn’t answer though, just looked straight ahead and walked away.

The finals against Arsenal you walked in pale and trembling but the team and medical staff's concern fell on deaf ears as Pere believed you'd bring the trophy back to barça and put you in the starting lineup.

You stumbled around until the final whistle came and signaled Barcelona's defeat. You didn’t have time to process the loss or the sobs of your teammates because the world around you started to spin, the cheers, cries of joy and sadness all blended into one.

Before you know it your body finally gave up and collapsed in the field. Your teammates weren't the first to react wrapped up in their disappointment. It was your former teammate Mariona who was coming to offer comfort that noticed the way your body racked with shakes, your eyes rolled back as you foamed from the mouth.

“Ayuda!” Mariona's voice gets lost in the celebrations as she drops to her knees, turning your seizing body on your side.

“Alexia por favor.” The Spaniard is in full panic now hoping someone would hear her. Alexia's ear caught it barely and her head snapped in your direction quickly, fear and horror overtook her body.

“amor, y/n no no no” Alexia ran to your side gently slapping your cheeks hoping to snap you out of it.

“Someone get a fucking medic out here now.” Katie's voice boomed across the pitch when she noticed her teammate and the Barcelona captain on their knees in fear.

By the time paramedics were on the pitch your body had stopped moving, your eyes closed looking at the most peaceful your team had seen you in a while and while the paramedics couldn't pronounce you they knew the truth. You were gone.

While they loaded your body into the ambulance Alexia kicked and screamed apologies fighting against patris and ingrid's grip. No ears that heard it was the right one because it was said too late.

[mrsknowitallll]

Come Hell Or High Water

Sammie “Preacher boy” x Black Plus Size Reader

Summary - What was supposed to be a night full of fun, a night filled with passion turns into something else entirely, something that’ll change the trajectory of both your lives forever.

Warning: Child abuse and neglect, smut, murder, foul language, violence

A/N - This one is a little bit heavy with some sensitive topics. If any of the things mentioned above trigger you I highly recommend skipping this fic, I have more in my masterlist pinned on my page that are much lighter. Hope you guys enjoy! I just loveeee me some Sammie. 🤭

You sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from your brow as you finished sweeping up the kitchen.

Your father was away visiting some relatives up north for a few days so you had the place to yourself for a while but that didn't mean that the work ever stopped.

"Keep up with the land and keep my god damn house clean, if I come back to some mess we gone have a problem you hea?" He grabbed onto the back of your neck roughly.

"Yes papa." You stiffened in his hold, nodding as best as you could.

But the weekend was just around the corner and after the week you had, you just wanted to relax a bit, take some of the edge off.

When you heard about the opening of Club Juke you just had to attend. Word spread that they were gonna have great food, top notch music and some and the world’s finest liquor, you’d be a fool to miss out. You weren't quite old enough to drink but you were old enough to get in and that's all that mattered to you.

You put on your best dress, a silk number that was a deep shade of red, it hugged your curves real nice, your ass especially.

You wrapped a matching shawl around your shoulders and slipped on your heels.

You grabbed your purse as you headed for the door, but not before looking at yourself one last time in your small kitchen mirror.

"Aren't you a little young to be here miss?" Cornbread questioned as you stepped near the entrance.

"I'm old enough and my money just as good as everyone else’s” You waved a few coins around, a few dollars you saved from babysitting.

His eyes followed the money, snatching it from your hands without hesitation and stepping aside to let you in.

Your ears perked up at the sound of singing, a smooth soulful voice coming from the small stage which was surrounded by people dancing so you couldn't quite see.

You walked over as if you were in a trance pushing people out of the way earning several curses from the other club patrons.

You eventually got to the front staring up at the culprit.

You felt heat pool from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes as you locked eyes with him.

His skin was smooth as silk, a pretty dark brown that seemed to glisten even under the dim lighting in the club, he was dressed in a simple suit, nothing too fancy, good enough for the little joint, just right for him, and his slender fingers strummed his guitar beautifully, fingers dancing over the strings like magic.

You drank him in like a glass of wine, eyes eventually sliding back up to meet his once more.

He grinned down at you, shooting you a wink.

You looked away feeling your face flush, thank god it wasn't visible.

After a while you settled down at the bar, still stealing glances at the boy from across the room, him doing the same.

Finally he began to approach you and you did your best to act casual, if casual was adjusting your outfit and asking the bartender if you looked okay.

"My, my aren't you pretty." He whistled eyes trailing your frame causing you to squirm.

"And you're quite the charmer." You smirked trying to play it cool.

"You enjoy the show?" He questioned taking a seat next to you.

"Absolutely, you sure can blow." You shot him a compliment causing him to grin.

"That ain't the only thing this mouth of mine can do." He leaned in, hand brushing your thigh.

"If i didn't know any better i'd say you was tryna sweet talk your way into my drawls. You don't even know my name, how you know i ain't a serial killer?" You teased.

"It would be an honor to die by these pretty hands of yours." He intertwined his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles sweetly.

"You wanna get out of here?" You squeezed your thighs together, staring at him hungrily.

"Sure thing." He placed his hat on his head, placing his guitar over his shoulders.

You giggled as his lips trailed from your neck down to your exposed chest, his hands gripping your wide hips tightly.

"As much as i would love to take you right here right now, i think we better go somewhere more private." He glanced around the dark woods wearily.

"My house is near by, my pa gone for the week, it'll just be you and me." You pecked his lips smiling wickedly.

He scooped you up in his arms, and took off running, surprising you with his strength.

You laughed until your stomach started to hurt, hitting his shoulders, squealing for him to put you down.

He finally did once he reached your porch, setting you down gently.

As soon as you unlocked the door he was on you, hands sliding beneath your dress, grabbing ahold of your thighs and lifting you up, placing you on your kitchen counter, lips attacking yours in a rough, sloppy kiss.

He unbuttoned his pants quickly, slipping them down just enough to pull out his hard length.

You spat on your hand, wetting it before grabbing his dick, stroking painfully slow.

He ripped your panties off, fingers dipping into your core, your arousal soaking them.

Just before he could sink into you the door was slung open, revealing the one person you weren't expecting to see for at least another day or two.

You jumped from the counter quickly pulling down your dress.

You shook in fear as he surveyed the scene, his face contorting quickly, from shock to blind rage.

"I leave you 'lone for a few days and i come back to you spread open on my kitchen counter like some hooker!" Your father screamed sending a harsh slap across your face.

"Now wait just a minute mister ain't no need for all that, it was me that came onto her." Sammie struggled to keep his pants up.

Your father swung on him, landing a clean hit on his jaw causing the boy to stumble.

You ran over to him, holding his face in your hands.

"You alright?" You questioned, tears brimming your eyes.

He nodded.

"Come hea!" Your father grabbed you by your hair suddenly, dragging you out the front door and tossing you onto the lawn.

He proceeded to stomp on you like he was putting out a cigarette bud, not beating the life out of his daughter, his only child.

You placed your arms over your head protectively, screaming in agony, the pain unbearable.

It all abruptly stopped when you heard gunshots ring out.

Sammie stood beside you, your father's shot gun in hand, his lifeless body now lying next to yours, blood staining blades of grass.

You stood on shaky feet wincing, arm gripping your middle.

You spared a single glance at your father, face blank.

You weren’t fazed by his death, that man never loved you, never cared for you, hell he began beating the daylights out of you the moment you learned to walk and talk so why should you give a fuck if he lived or died?

What you were worried about though was Sammie, you snatched the gun from his hands tossing it to the ground.

He shook rapidly, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall.

"Hey, hey! Look at me, don't go there okay? Come back to me." You tapped the sides of his face attempting to snap him back into reality.

"I- i gotta call Sm-Smoke a- and Stack, We gotta get rid of him we gotta get him outta here." The boy grabbed your father by his feet and began dragging him back into the house.

You took ahold of his arms, helping him.

“You stay here ight? I’ll be back soon.” Sammie adjusted his clothes.

“Like hell I am, I ain’t letting you go nowhere by yourself, not with the state you in, nor am I staying here with a dead man, i’m going with you!” You persisted, slipping your shoes back on.

Sammie knew there was no point in arguing with you so he just let you follow him.

“Well i’ll be.. damn lil man I ain’t know you had it in you!” Stack crouched down in front of your father’s body, observing the bullet wound.

You huffed in annoyance at the man’s antics.

He had been cracking jokes since the two of you went and got him, nothing bout the situation y’all were in was a laughing matter.

“Look, Stack was it? I don’t know if you noticed but Sammie’s not taking this too well, see he just killed a man and while that may be a tuesday for you and your brother it’s obviously a life changing experience for him, he’s clearly traumatized and now is not the time for games. You gone help us get rid of this motherfucker or is your comedy special gone run all night?” You crossed your arms stepping into his face, gritting your teeth.

Sammie grabbed your hand squeezing tightly, a silent show of gratitude.

You just glanced over at him smiling weakly.

Stack pursed his lips, eyes widening slightly.

He burst out laughing after a few seconds, holding onto his gut like you said the funniest thing in the world.

“My fault little lady, I ain’t mean no harm.” He held his hands up in surrender.

“She a keeper lil Sammie.” He briefly glanced over at the boy, winking.

“Me and Smoke gone take care of this here, the two of y’all just worry bout getting the fuck outta town.” He looked between the both of you.

“What?!” You spoke in unison.

“Y’all killed a man a skip and a hop away from a club full of people, you think they ain’t hear them gunshots? You think niggas ain’t gone ask questions? They gone notice this motherfucker is gone sooner or later and connect the dots. Don’t you got family? You think they ain’t gone wonder what the fuck happened to this nigga? That they ain’t gone come snooping round? Y’all gotta get the fuck up outta here, quick ‘fore the sun come up.” Smoke glared at the two of you.

“My entire life here in Mississippi, i can’t just pack up and go, leave everything i know behind.” You stared at the man in disbelief.

“We ain���t got no choice.” Sammie spoke gruffly.

You turned toward him, a “you can’t be serious” expression on your face.

“Look I get where you coming from, ion wanna leave mississippi behind either, my ma and pa, my brothers and sisters, but we ain’t got no choice in the matter now, what’s done is done, we gotta go.” He grabbed your hands intertwining them with his pulling you closer to him, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Enough of that lovey dovey shit get the fuck on.” Stack waved them off.

You packed as many clothes as you could into a small duffle, gathering some of your father’s old clothes for Sammie as well.

You tossed the bag in the back of the car, hopping into the passenger side, Sammie on the drivers side, the engine already running.

“You stay safe, keep yo eyes peeled and yo head down.” Stack pat Sammie on the head.

“And protect ya lady, that mouth of hers gone get y’all in a world of trouble.” He teased.

You flipped him off causing him to chuckle.

After you said your goodbyes you and Sammie took off down the road, wind whipping against your faces, minds running a mile a minute.

You placed your hand on the back of Sammie’s head, fingers kneading through his hair gently, soothing him.

“I’m sorry I got you into all this mess, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be with your folks in that club, playing music, having yourself a good time.” You sighed heavily staring down at your feet.

“Hey look at me.” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you.

You glanced up meeting his soft gaze.

“I ain’t worried bout none of that nonsense, the club, the music, none of it. If I didn’t do what i did that man would’ve killed you and i definitely wouldn’t be able to live with myself then.” He shook his head.

“Plus I been unhappy here for a long time, I always said i wanted to see the world, now’s my chance.” He confessed.

“And music don’t just exist in the Delta, it lives right here within me.” He pointed at his chest.

“No matter how far I travel the music ain’t gone ever leave my side.” He smiled pridefully.

“I got all I need right here, just you, me and the blues.”

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

a/n: another request! wasn’t sure if i should tag this as 18+ since it doesn’t contain any smut, but i’d advise you read this with caution. contains a few sensitive topics (see warnings below)

summary: based on the song by justin bieber

warnings: blood, trauma, situational alcohol abuse, forms of self-harm

word count: 6.6k

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

A smell of alcohol and something metallic lingers in the air, sharp and unescapable.

It's pitch black in the living room of your apartment. A whiskey tumbler sits on the coffee table, bloodied bandages and cotton balls scattered around it. The whiskey bottle is open, half empty, and the cap is nowhere to be found.

The suit on the floor is torn and soaked with blood. Combat boots, dirty and wet, have toppled over next to it.

Natasha's on the couch, holding an ice pack to her head. Only dressed in boxers and a sports bra now, every scar and bruise is on full display. Her eyes are closed, her hand clenching and flexing on her thigh. Nails rake over skin, draw blood, but she doesn't register it through the haze in her head.

The mission didn't go as planned. In the beginning, everything seemed fine — they made it to the location, disarmed a few guards, managed to get into the building. Her assignment was to go and free a few hostages, which she managed quite well, considering she had to fight two guards in the process.

She doesn't remember much else. Just a cell that they somehow got her into. Rusty metal and leaky pipes on the ceiling, blood on the walls.

Pressure around her wrists, her throat. It was brief, but it left its mark. Memories resurfaced — memories that never fully sank to the bottom of her mind's ocean. It felt like grappling with the ghosts of her past, being pulled underwater, drowning, fighting for her life. She could feel the water in her lungs and the blood thrumming in her ears. Salt burned her nose.

Her limbs grew heavy from the kicking and wrestling. She wanted to let go, surrender to the heavy weight of the water, but she couldn't allow herself to. Survival is something that the Red Room ingrained into her.

If there's one thing she can't do, it's die.

Death means giving up.

Four hours later, Natasha still feels like, sometimes, death may be the better option. With the way her head is pounding and her scars are burning, anything to get rid of the pain is welcome. It's why her eyes tracked the liquor shelf first when she got home.

You enter the living room not too long after. Keeping your eyes on her, you turn on the small light before blindly closing the door and locking it.

What you're seeing is not entirely unfamiliar, but it always manages to leave you startled and speechless for at least a minute or two.

"Nat?", you say quietly. No response. "Nat, love."

She opens her eyes. They look empty when they meet yours.

Not a word. Again.

You step closer and bend over to pick up her suit. You fold it, tentatively, unsure how to act. How to make this better, fix it, help her.

You can't. You've tried to before, but it keeps happening.

You sit down and put the folded suit aside. Natasha turns her head away, blank eyes fixed on the ceiling. Whatever happened earlier sucked the life out of her, leaving her completely exhausted. She doesn't want to talk, which you understand — but it feels important to you, anyway.

"Love", you say, touching her hand. She's been carving deep lines into her thigh for a while now, leaving her skin raw and burning. Dark blood is stuck under her fingernails. "Talk to me."

"Get out."

"Nat-"

"I said get out."

You stare at her, eyebrows furrowed in silent concern. You can't tell whether she needs space or support, and that frustrates you.

Shouldn't you be able to read her like an open book by now? Shouldn't you know exactly what she needs, exactly when she needs it? It's been years, after all. You've been talking about marriage, for god's sake.

However, that's not how relationships work, and it's especially not how a relationship with Natasha works. Either you accept that you'll never be fully let in, or you'll be fighting worries and insecurities your entire life.

"Hey", you say firmly, peeling her hand off her thigh. "No. We're not doing this. Not tonight."

She struggles against your grasp, but then her arm slackens. Her eyes close, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Frustration and alcohol — not a good mix.

"Fuck you", she spits. She's slurring, so you know better than to take this personally. It's anger, pain, self-loathing, exhaustion, but it's not directed at you. It never is.

You glance at the whiskey bottle on the coffee table and chew on your lip. It was full just hours ago, when you left for your shift. Now, it's nearly gone.

"Hold still", you mumble, reaching for the pack of cotton balls she discarded on the floor. You soak it in an antiseptic solution and start dabbing the deep scratches on her thigh.

"Stings."

You almost wince at how resigned she sounds, but you keep rubbing off blood and cleaning the self-inflicted wounds.

"I'm not going to ask what happened", you say, speaking carefully. You're treading on dangerous territory. One wrong word could make her snap right back into that same state of mind that got her like this. "I just need you to take a few breaths, okay? Nice and deep, love."

She shakes her head. You put your free hand on her knee.

"Please", you add. She squeezes her eyes shut and, with a movement too quick for you to see coming, pulls away. She gets up from the couch, but you catch her wrist. Her head whips around, anger and desperation raging behind those vacant eyes.

"Don't touch me!"

"Nat-"

"You have no idea", she hisses, "what this feels like. So leave me alone."

You stare at her as she tugs herself free from your light grip. Down the hallway and into your bedroom, you hear the door slam shut. It's rapid and loud, so much so that you're sure she just woke your neighbors.

It takes you a moment to collect yourself. Running your hand down your face, you exhale, then get up and start tidying the mess Natasha left behind.

You make sure to hide the whiskey bottle. The rest of the alcohol too, while you're at it.

. . .

The morning after, Natasha remembers bits. Pieces, fragments of what really happened.

She recalls blood. And yelling. Alcohol, way too much of it. You, in the middle of it all.

Guilt, heavy and hot, sits in her abdomen. No way to make it disappear.

She rolls over and finds you asleep. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, soft and golden, but it's not what she focuses on. She doesn't focus on the tired expression on your unconscious face, either. Instead, something else catches her attention.

Something dark red and dried sticks to your wrist, right where the skin is folded due to the angled position your hand is resting in. She reaches over and brushes it away. Blood. Her blood.

"Y/N?", she mumbles, voice raspy with sleep and exhaustion. "Baby. You awake?"

A sleepy sigh. When your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, she pulls away. Definitely asleep.

Natasha sits up and immediately regrets it. She forgot about the mission yesterday, but her body didn't. Bruises and scars ache, a dull throbbing pain that spreads through her limbs. She remains in an unmoving position for a few seconds to let the pain fade, then she scoots out of bed.

The mirror in the bathroom confirms it. From head to toe, she's littered in visual evidence of yesterday's events. She didn't shower, either, so she's still full of dried blood and dirt.

She splashes her face with cold water. When she looks up, she finally sees herself clearly.

Red-rimmed eyes, puffy and tired, and a face that doesn't look like her own.

She steps away from the mirror and takes her hair out of the messy bun that's almost come loose. Water runs, steam fills the bathroom. She enters the shower and pulls the shower curtain fully closed. There are ways to let you know she wants you to join, and there are ways she lets you know the opposite.

You woke up minutes after she got out of bed. Once you heard the shower run, you were able to relax. She's at home, with you, safe and sound. If she's showering, it means she at least felt well enough to get out of bed.

You get up, put on a hoodie over your pajamas and make your way into the kitchen. As soon as you've poured some oats into a pot of milk, you hear footsteps. For a moment, you're not sure whether you should acknowledge her presence in any way — turn around, say good morning, maybe ask if she's hungry. But then you feel a pair of arms around your waist, strong and safe and hesitant, and a weight drops from your shoulders.

Natasha doesn't say anything. Neither do you.

But you aren't pushing her away, so she kisses your cheek. Her hand rubs your stomach before she makes the space between you bigger again.

You wait for an apology, some kind of confirmation she remembers anything from last night, but nothing comes. It wouldn't surprise you if she really doesn't remember — she had alcohol, lots of it, and intoxication has made her forget things before.

You drum your fingers against the counter, staring at the pot next to you, before you finally break the silence.

"About last night..."

Her shoulders tense up.

"Yeah", she says bitterly. "I drank too much."

"I'm aware", you say slowly, stirring the oatmeal and turning off the stove. What else are you supposed to say? That she should stop? God knows she's tried. God also knows it isn't easy. When everything becomes too much, even focusing on one single thing can become the hardest obstacle to overcome.

And when it comes to alcohol, it's pretty much impossible.

What might be the most confusing thing, though, is that this isn't a constant. It's not full-on alcoholism. She doesn't need it to function. But when everything becomes too much, it's what she turns to as a coping mechanism. It's dangerous and reckless and you feel like you're out of solutions.

"I put the whiskey away", you say, turning around. Her face is stoic as you lock eyes. "The rest of it, too. Don't even try to look for it. You won't find it."

"You're aware I'm a spy, right?", she says. Your lips twitch into a humorless smile. You know what she means — not that she's going to intentionally defy you using her skillset, but rather that her brain, no matter what kind of state it is in, will use said skills anyway. "You'll marry me. If you don't know about my past, then-"

"Alright", you cut her off. "Yes, I know. I'm aware. I tried my best, so let's just hope it'll be enough."

"It never is."

"Nat."

"I mean it. They have a bar at the compound, too."

"Well", you say, fidgeting, "I told Tony to put everything away."

Her eyebrows furrow. Before she can voice the feeling of betrayal you're seeing in her eyes, you lift your hand and stop her.

"I told him I'm trying to go sober."

Natasha goes silent. She stares at you, chewing her lip, then gets up and walks up to you. You know she isn't sure whether she's allowed to touch you (which, to you, is ridiculous), so you cup her face and kiss her and pull her into a hug. One hand on her nape and the other on her back, you hold her close.

"Just promise me one thing?"

She hums, her nose brushing against your neck. "Yeah?"

"No drinking alone. Please. I need to know you're safe."

Some promises she can't keep.

. . .

You get the call at 3am.

Natasha had been on a mission — one that was supposed to last at least another day, but apparently ended early. You had no idea.

Sleepy and worried, you scramble out of bed. Your phone is tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you hop through the apartment, one leg in your jeans and the other foot trying to find the hole. On the other end of the line is the owner of a bar in Queens.

You're not awake enough to fully understand everything. All you hear is something about a fight, shattered glass, blood. Not bad enough for a trip in the ambulance, thankfully, but the damage is done.

You sit in the car, buckle up, and break down. Tears flow, the frustration making them hot as they run down your cheeks. Your vision blurs, so you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. A car crash is the last thing you need right now.

The streets are as dark and empty as they can be, considering you're in New York. But most people are asleep, in their beds, not worried to death yet another time. Most people don't have to actively keep themselves from causing a car crash. When you realize you feel something akin to envy, you slam your foot on the gas pedal and tear off down the street.

You find the bar easily, mostly because a small group of people has gathered in front of it. Natasha's on the sidewalk, holding a napkin to her nose, her eyes drooping shut. You see her bleeding knuckles and the tears get heavier.

By the time you're out of the car, a man is approaching you. You barely pay him any mind, already looking at Natasha — but she's so out of it she doesn't even realize you've arrived.

"Wait", the guy says when you try to walk past him, "you're the lady I called?"

"Yeah", you say, glancing at Natasha every so often. "Her fiancée. Girlfriend, actually. What..."

He sighs and runs a hand over his thinning hair. "Had a little too much to drink. There was an argument with another customer. It, uh, escalated. Broke one of my mirrors, you know. The other guy's at the hospital."

"He's what?"

"She slammed him into the mirror face first. Chap broke his nose."

You stare at him with wide eyes. He shakes his head and lightly taps your upper arm, leading you in Natasha's direction.

"No idea if he'll sue", the man says. "He did provoke that fight. But you'll have to pay for my mirror, though."

"Sure", you say vacantly. Natasha doesn't look up when you reach her side. You crouch next to her and brush your fingers over the back of her hand. Her hand jerks the slightest bit, but she doesn't look at you. "Come on, love. Let's get you home. Can you walk?"

"She walked just fine earlier", some other guy pipes up.

You glare daggers at him before resting your hand on her shoulder. It's cold, too cold, and you notice her jacket is missing. You squeeze it, hoping it'll be enough to coax her into getting up — or, at the very least, looking at you —, but no. She stays unmoving, silent, eyes shut and the lower half of her face covered with a napkin.

She reeks of blood and alcohol. You get up and look at the guy who owns the bar. He raises his eyebrows, tatted arms crossed over his chest.

"Her jacket", you say. "Where's her jacket? It's cold out."

"Forget about it, Y/N."

You glance at her, taken aback. "Nat. Why didn't you-"

"Forget about it", she mumbles, slurring again. God, you're tired of this. "Go home."

Your glance turns into a stare. There's no way she's asking you to leave. She looks like she's moments away from passing out.

"Are you kidding?"

"No. Gome. I mean, go- go home."

"You can't be serious. You can barely talk!"

You see her shiver and decide you officially have had enough. It takes some effort, but you manage to pull her off the ground and make her sit in the car. After giving the bar owner a check for the mirror she broke, you drive home.

. . .

Natasha gasps and coughs out water. You splash her with more, and more, until you feel like she's sober enough to think somewhat straight.

"Fuck", she curses, water flowing down her face and her hair sticking to her head. "Y/N!"

"Feeling better?"

"I feel cold!"

You give her a skeptical look and splash another handful of water into her face. She's sitting in the shower, only in underwear to keep her clothes from getting wet. She shakes her head and pushes away the shower head you're holding.

"It helps", you insist. She shoots a desperate look your way and you sigh. "You okay?"

"I need clothes", she mumbles, wiping water away from her eyes. "And a blanket."

"I know", you say, grabbing her hand and helping her up. She's still wobbly on her feet, so you have to make sure she doesn't slip. "Come on."

Some fresh clothes and a quick session with the blowdryer later, she's on the couch. A blanket is draped over her shoulders. Now that she's back to reality, all the memories of what happened in the bar come rushing back.

It was stupid. A stupid comment from a guy drinking beer. A comment about her.

Natasha isn't considered a violent person, despite her being an Avenger or her past as an assassin. She lashed out, anyway. It makes you wonder what the hell was said to her.

She rubs her face. You sit down next to her.

"Go to bed", she says weakly. "It's late."

"And you?", you probe.

"I'm staying here."

"Alone. On the couch."

"Yes."

You shake your head. No matter what, you don't want her to have to be alone. Not even after what happened tonight — especially not after that. But she's tired, and stubborn, and she's hurt you enough tonight. She can't get that look on your face out of her head, when you were kneeling next to her on the sidewalk. How wet your cheeks were from tears and how they glistened in the light of the street lamps.

Yet you're still here, at not even 5 in the morning, still trying to make her feel better. At this point, she should try to make you feel better. Part of her is scared that she'll never be able to do that.

Natasha wants you to stay. It's the only thing that brings her peace. But she can't ruin your peace by asking you to help with hers.

"Go to bed", she repeats. "Sleep."

"No", you say, frowning. "No, absolutely not. You're not leaving my side tonight, and that's final."

She stares at you, jaw clenching. "And why the hell not?", she asks, her voice carrying bitterness and exhaustion. You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise, but remain undeterred. "Don't trust me with myself anymore?"

"Of course I do! But it's clear you weren't doing well, and-"

"And that's why I need a babysitter?!" She laughs, but there's no humor to it. Covering her face with her hands, she slumps into the couch. "God, you must be so sick of me."

There it is. That little piece of vulnerability she doesn't show, that one fear she keeps hidden like a dirty secret. Your shoulders slump and you sigh, touching her knuckles. Raw and busted open, blood still leaking from some parts of her skin.

She doesn't react. You scoot and sit on her lap, facing her, and grab her wrists. You pull her hands down, revealing the face you fell in love with, the one you still love. No matter how many issues there may be — you love her. If you have to, you'll keep driving to bars in the middle of the night for the rest of your life. You'll bandage knuckles and wipe blood away. All you need is for her to stay.

"Hey", you mumble. She shakes her head. You lean in and kiss her forehead. "Nat, please. I'm not sick of you."

No reply. You let go of her wrists to cup her face, pressing your lips to every feature, every tiny scar. She lets out a sob-like sound, but you see no tears. Your lips move from her forehead to her closed eyelid, from her cheek to the corner of her mouth.

"We'll get through this", you say, rubbing her cheeks. "You will get through this."

"It's not getting better. Y/N, it never gets better."

"That's not true", you say firmly. "It does get better. It will. Stuff like this takes time."

She looks up, tired and guilty and full of self-loathing. She'll never understand why you're in her lap instead of trying to save yourself from the bullshit she's putting you through.

"It's been years."

"It'll probably take a few more, too", you say, brushing your thumb along her lower lip. "But that's okay."

A small pause. Natasha studies you, her chest tightening with both panic and realization.

She's dragging you down with her. If she doesn't put a stop to it now, it'll only get worse for you.

"And you?", she says, challenging you. "What about you? Am I supposed to sit here and watch you go down with me?"

"What?" You shake your head. Everything inside of you is begging for your sudden suspicions to not be true. But she's saying something, and you think you know what it is. "Nat, don't. Seriously."

"Don't what? Are you really that blind?"

"I know what you're doing", you say, trying to sound calm. But you're panicking, just like she is, and it's getting hard not to hyperventilate. You're tired, sleep-deprived even, and all you want is to get her to bed and cuddle. Feel her next to you, know she's safe — at least for the time being. "It's not going to work. I'm going to bed now, and you're coming with. We'll talk in the morning."

"No." She shakes her head. "No. You'll call your parents, Y/N, and you'll get out of here. Do you know how much this shit hurts? Seeing you suffer because of me?"

You frown, searching for the right words. The words that'll make her calm down. You're not sure they exist.

"Do you know how much it hurts?", you retort. Her hands grab yours, try to gently pry them off her face, but you're relentless. "Stop!"

"You don't get it, do you? Get out of the fucking apartment!"

The more she tries to push you away, the firmer your grasp becomes. She wrestles with you, and although she may still be gentle enough with it to not hurt you, it's not that same, playful thing it used to be. She's serious about this.

"Nat!" You let out a sob and struggle, but somehow manage to pin her down. Let's not be fooled — you're still not nearly as strong as she is. But given how exhausted she is, and how the alcohol is still numbing her, you have somewhat of an upper hand. "Stop that!"

Her body goes limp beneath you, all fight draining out of her within a split second. The look on her face is defeated, so much so you almost feel bad about forcing her down like this.

"Don't be stubborn", you plead. "Not about this."

Natasha closes her eyes, forcing the tears away. Sometimes, she wishes giving up was an option for her. But it isn't, not right now, and if it were, she still wouldn't be able to do it to you.

"I'm so tired."

"I know", you mumble, all choked up, and brush some hair out of her face. "I know, baby."

"I'll lose you one way or another", she says, voice cracking mid-sentence. "I'd rather it's on my terms."

You shake your head, your grip on her wrist loosening. You bring both hands to her face and cup it. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard you say, you know. And you say a lot of dumb stuff, love."

She laughs, but it's not that sweet sound that usually makes you melt. In a moment like this, you don't expect it to be, though.

The silence lingers. She looks up at you, tired but loving, and her hands cover yours. "You should've left me there, you know. On the curb. You don't sleep enough as it is, and you still got up to get my drunk ass home."

"For good reason", you reply, taking her hand to bring it to your mouth and kiss her bandaged knuckles. "It's not the same without you. Nothing is. Now let's go and catch up on some sleep together, yeah?"

She hesitates. "Look, I..."

"I'm serious. I'm not calling my parents, I'm not leaving. I'm staying right here, even if that means you'll keep bitching."

Natasha tilts her head. A flash of something familiar flickers across her features. It makes your heart ache.

Sometimes, you miss the before. It's not fully gone, but grasping it can be difficult. Like catching a greasy little fish in water, it keeps slipping away.

"Bitching", she echoes. A tentative smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "I love you, you know."

. . .

"I'm not sure I want to go."

You look at her, arms crossed and head tilted, a little frown on your face.

Over a year has passed since that incident at the bar. Things haven't fixed themselves magically, of course not. But it's been going uphill almost constantly, apart from a few stumbles and breaks. Which is okay — everyone needs a breather every now and then. The important part is that it hasn't gotten worse.

Something else has changed. You're wearing matching engagement rings now. You're getting married in a few weeks. You've picked out your dress, and a nice venue, and made sure the flowers match the place cards. You've moved into a new apartment, too, one that's in a calmer area of Manhattan.

Your upcoming wedding is currently the most exciting thing in your life. Which is the reason why tonight is Natasha's bachelorette party. It was Tony's idea, and although she had her doubts, you were thrilled. It's been months since she went out on her own.

"You'll have fun", you say, stepping closer to smooth out the front of her shirt. "Stark planned it. There's no way you'll get bored."

"I'm not sure you know me as well as you think", she mumbles, smiling faintly. She studies you. "It's Atlantic City. I don't want to drink too much."

You pause. But then you shake your head and adjust her jacket. "Don't worry about that. Clint will be there. Sam, Steve. You'll feel like you got trapped in a retirement home. Also, you'll get about a hundred phone calls from me if I even sense that you're being an idiot."

She exhales through her nose, lips twitching. "So a couple bodyguards, and a parole officer. I see."

"Exactly." Your hands run back down to her chest. Her heartbeat feels steady beneath your palms. "Don't drink if you don't feel good about it. But circumstances are different, and you're not alone, and I'm just a phone call away."

"I know."

You cup her face and lean in, kissing her. Her hands hold onto your upper arms, trying to keep you close. You still pull away.

"I know you want to go", you say, convinced. Natasha gives you a deadpan look. "You're just scared."

"I'm not scared", she argues. "I just...don't want to mess up. I've made progress."

"Yeah", you mumble softly. She's right. Nobody's made as much progress as she has, at least that's what you believe. Her mind still goes to bad places, but her coping mechanisms have gotten healthier. There's no way you'll give the credit to yourself, but she feels like she wouldn't have made it this far without you. She doesn't tell you that to your face, but she has her ways in which she lets you know.

"You'll have fun", you say again. "It's, like, your last night of freedom. Enjoy it while it lasts, because girl, you'll be stuck."

"Oh no, the horrors", she mumbles, smiling. She pulls you closer by wrapping her arms around your waist. Her lips press against your forehead. "Stuck with you. However will I survive."

"You're joking about it now, but in a few weeks, you'll only be able to go out with me. You'll get sick so fast."

"I won't." Natasha raises her eyebrows and squeezes your waist. "Actually, why don't you join us today, too? I'm sure it'd be more fun."

"Absolutely not." You peck her lips and step back. You wave your hand to coax her out the door. She opens it and steps out, but stops on the doormat. "I'm serious! We agreed to have separate bachelorette parties."

She rolls her eyes. "You better pray you don't have to scrape me off some boardwalk tonight."

You sigh and furrow your eyebrows, arms crossed over the Looney Tunes shirt you wear to sleep. Natasha raises her hands.

"Don't look at me like that", she says, sounding both defensive and sheepish. "I'll be good."

"I don't need you to be 'good'", you say. "Come home to me after. That's all I ask."

Natasha softens. Before you can say anything, she's back inside the hallway, hands running over your body and lips pressed to yours. You want to protest — Clint has pulled up in front of the house — but then you melt into her.

She doesn't have to tell you she'll be back. From this very moment, she always will be.

. . .

When your phone buzzes at 5am, you nearly jump out of your own skin. You don't even glance at the screen before answering the call.

"Y/N?", you hear Natasha's voice, sleepy and probably a little drunk.

"Hey", you say, sitting up and blinking away remainders of sleep. "You okay?"

"I'm fine", she mumbles. Yes, definitely drunk, but not enough for her to be slurring her words. "Just missing you."

"Oh." You rub your eyes, smiling to yourself. "I miss you too. Having fun?"

"I got dragged to a strip club."

"I'll take that as a yes", you tease.

You hear bedsheets rustle, then a thump. A groan.

"Dropped my phone", she says, voice so muffled you can barely hear her. She picks it up from the floor and puts it back to her ear. "You want to come pick me up?"

"What, now?"

"Look, I loved seeing a dozen half-naked strangers and Steve throwing up during a lap dance, but I want to come home."

You go quiet, mulling it over. Truthfully, you're feeling a little like a mom that's being called to pick up her child early because it's too scared to sleep someplace else than home — but it's almost been a day since she left, and she sounds needier than usual, and you kind of want her back with you as well.

"You're still at that hotel you told me about?", you ask, already getting up to grab some clothes.

"Yes, we-" She pauses. You stop, trying to see if the phone call ended, but then her voice cuts through the unnerving silence. "I'm wearing a ring."

"Yes, baby, we're engaged."

"Oh. Okay, that's good. I thought, uhm..."

You bite back a laugh, wiggling into a pair of sweatpants. "Didn't marry a hooker, I hope?"

"What?! Don't be ridiculous."

"I was kidding. You'll wait in the lobby?"

"Fine", she says, letting out a yawn. "Hurry."

. . .

Despite the fact you agreed on picking her up in the lobby, Natasha's on the curb when you pull up. Her face seems to light up when she sees you, and she quickly grabs her duffel bag to approach the car. The door opens and she sinks into the passenger seat.

"Hey", you say, already starting the car. "Show me your ring. Just to be safe."

"Here." She holds out her left hand. The ring on her finger is definitely one you're familiar with, so you nod and give her hand a squeeze. She looks at you, head leaning against the headrest, and hums. "You're so beautiful, you know."

"And you're drunk", you reply, starting the car. Still, a tiny smile tugs at your lips.

Natasha shakes her head. She pulls your hand into her lap and holds it tight. She's not usually this openly clingy, but she's tipsy enough to turn into this touchy-feely mess you secretly adore.

"Beautiful", she repeats. "I'm gonna marry you. You wanna marry me?"

"We're engaged", you remind her. "Don't remember?"

"Of course I do." She lets out a scoff. "Just...checking. Making sure you didn't change your mind."

"Change my mind? What, and miss out on all the late night drives?" You shoot her a smile and feel her play with your fingers. "Seriously though, you had fun?"

"It wasn't bad", she admits, closing her eyes. "Bit boring."

"Boring, you say? Well, then you definitely didn't see one of those washed-up magicians", you say absently, taking a left turn. Natasha reaches out to poke your cheek — once, twice —, then you turn your head and lightly bite her fingertip.

She retracts her hand, looking offended.

"You started it", you quickly say. "With all that poking."

Natasha rolls her eyes and leans back.

"You're sensitive", she mumbles, wiping her finger on your sleeve. You bat her hand away. "Violent, too. Jesus."

"We'll be home soon", you say. You couldn't love Natasha more, but she's right at that point of being drunk where she's simply an idiot. Clingy, needy, and a little prone to biting. "Think you can make it about two hours without throwing up?"

She waves her hand dismissively, already curling up against the car door. Head against the window and breath fogging up the glass, she dozes off.

Getting her out of the car is proven to be more difficult than anticipated.

It turns out that getting into the car to be driven around and sleep is way more enjoyable than getting out of it again. Natasha sighs and protests, but eventually, you manage to pull her to her feet. She stumbles out and grips your shoulders, then smiles crookedly.

"Hey", she mumbles. "Wanna help me pick that up? 'Cause you made my jaw drop."

"Dear god."

"Didn't like that one? I got more."

"Absolutely not", you say, dragging her toward the door. She leans on you heavily, her head resting against yours. You eye the chunky brown mass clinging to the soles of her boots. "Shoes off. What the hell is that?"

"Refried beans", she mumbles, toeing off her boots and kicking them aside. "Clint dropped his Chipotle."

"And it was all beans...?"

Natasha shrugs and walks inside, flopping onto the couch face-first. You sigh and peel off your jacket, watching her for a moment. You expect her to get up again, maybe change into fresh clothes, but no — she seems asleep.

You feel bad about waking her, but you do it anyway.

"Ass off the couch", you hum, patting her backside. A muffled groan comes from the cushion. "Let's go."

"Tired."

"The couch isn't big enough for both of us", you argue, giving her a firm pinch just below the buttcheek. "Come on, bed."

"Stop nagging me", she mumbles, but sits up. You lead her away from the couch before she can change her mind.

Clothes off and pajamas on, comforters pulled aside. Natasha collapses again, one leg angled and the other stretched out. She sighs and burrows her face right in between the two pillows on your bed.

"Drank too much", she mutters. You hum, studying her with your eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Head hurts."

"Get some sleep."

"C'mere."

"In a minute", you promise, taking off your hoodie. "You know, I actually got a little scared when you called. I thought god knows what happened."

She snorts into the pillows. "Gotta trust me more."

"I do trust you." You sit next to her, tugging her top back down where it had ridden up. "I got scared, anyway. You, a bunch of irresponsible people, Atlantic City — not the best mix."

Natasha rolls over and looks at you through sleep-hazy eyes. You smile and tap her nose. She shakes her head.

"This was your idea."

"And you had fun", you insist. She curls into you, her face pressed against your chest. "Right?"

"If I say yes, you'll shut up?"

You roll your eyes and kiss her forehead. She's warm, warmer than you, and tonight is no exception. You can feel her heat seep into you, but it's a nice feeling. You might end up overheating, but it's nice. Anything is nice when you know she's safe.

"You're comfy", Natasha mutters, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and twisting it.

"You're still drunk."

"And in love."

You run your hand down her back, a smile forming on your lips. Before you can say anything, she's fallen asleep.

. . .

The light pressure of lips against your temple wakes you up. Sunlight is filtering through the curtains, brightening up the room and warming your bed. You hum sleepily, but make no move to actually wake up.

Another kiss, more insistent this time. A glance at the clock tells you it's almost noon. You turn your head and see Natasha, half asleep and mildly hungover.

"Thank you", she mumbles, nose nuzzling your cheek.

"For what?"

"Picking me up. Loving me. All of it, I guess."

"Aw", you hum, pulling her closer. "Don't thank me for that. But thank me for not kicking you out of bed. My god, you're a furnace."

"You're being dramatic", she mutters, her tightening arms telling you she definitely doesn't care about you burning up.

"Seriously! I almost had to sleep in the fridge."

She looks up, hair mussed and eyes bleary, and you bite back a grin.

"'Til death do us part", she replies, pinching your side. "Or something like that."

Your body jerks, but there's a smile on your face. You wrap your arms around her neck and roll over, trapping her beneath your body. She grunts, limbs slackening.

"Working on your vows, I see?", you tease.

"Been working on them since the day I met you", she says, making it sound like she's teasing as well, but you know there's a hidden layer of truth to her words. You kiss her, deep and firm, then pull away. She gazes up at you, her expression giving nothing away.

Her eyes, however, say a lot.

"My personal angel", she adds, murmuring. "No idea where I'd be without you."

"Good god", you say and scrunch up your face. "You're getting soft."

"Okay, that's not-"

You grin, knowing you've got her. Calling Natasha out on her feelings doesn't end well for most, but you have the privilege of getting away with just about anything. You stuck with her through more than she’d ever expect anyone to — you get free passes for just about anything.

"You are soft!"

“Seriously, enough.”

A laugh and a quick kiss on the lips. She rolls over, getting on top again and pressing you down into the mattress. Her eyes study yours and the sun makes her red hair shine and oh, you’re suddenly convinced you’ve made it through everything you thought you wouldn’t survive.

Natasha still isn’t an open book, not even to you, but you feel like you get to read more pages with every day that goes by.

[kireilien]

andteam when reader has oral fixation!!! i lowkey saw an enha post abt this and i wanna know what would teamies do 🙏🙏

OHMYGOF I RBD THIS POST by neodazed!!! all props go to them!!!! this is a ot9 post so if you don’t like reading 04z/05z/maki posts this is nawt for you! but omg first group post!!! so psyched!!!!! i feel like a real writer now LOL

also sorry to my *checks inbox* 25 other love letter requests i had to finish this asap i have so many thoughts

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing; dom!teamies, sub!reader, gn!reader, race neutral reader, oral fixation, use of multiple pet names in all. this is NOT age play, i do not condone age play, everyone is 18+! more specific tags will be listed with each member in their own sections, there are more sensitive topics here so proceed with caution!!! ♡︎

koga yudai.

cw. implied free use, dubcon, oral, use of “baby”

what do starri and i say? freak kei is love. freak kei is life! that’s especially no different when it comes to you having an oral fixation!!! he’s literally not surprised he’s probably the type to like some nasty kinks but that’s besides the point. when you bring up you have an oral fixation, kei would indulge in it so hard. if he sees you sucking on candy, he’ll literally make you spit it out and replace it with his cock. not even fingers. his cock. lollipop? his cock is better. cough drops? his cum will make your throat feel better. your thumb? why waste time, use his cock instead? he makes you feel so comfortable to do so, you literally drop all your stuff, come to him, peel back his boxers, and start slobbering on him to clear your head.

“fuck— yeah that’s it, use my cock, baby. it’s yours.”

murata fuma.

cw. soft!fuma, finger sucking, use of “angel”

hehe my fuma bear would coddle you!!! if you shyly admit that you have a oral fixation and you need him to help you, he’d immediately pull you in his arms, slip his fingers past your lips and have you nyamming on them. he thinks you’re so cute, head on his bicep, back fleshed against his chest, sucking on his fingers so you can ease whatever thoughts you have away. i don’t think fuma would like you drooling on his dick, it gives off heavy power imbalance, he’d honestly want to just snuggle as you suck on his fingers instead. which is why he likes home dates more! movie nights are the best because he’ll just kiss your scalp as you mindlessly drool on him, it makes his heart burst that you’re just with him in his arms!!!

“just let your mind be at ease with me, angel.”

wang yixiang.

cw. kissing, oral, finger sucking, dirty talk, degradation

the w in wang yixiang stands for whore wbk. nicho would def like it when you tell him that you have an oral fixation, he’d pull you into a kiss and make you sloppily suck on his tongue! he’d love the feeling of you turning off your brain, and just suck on his tongue as you’re intertwined with each other, feeling each other’s warmth. he’d also be someone to likes finger sucking AND oral like hello ok whore. when you’re sucking on his fingers, he likes you being in his lap when he mindlessly scrolls on his phone. when it gets a little heated he’ll almost face fuck you by how he’s loving the warmth of your mouth. he’s spitting out some nasty words as you slobber on his cock, it gets him so fucking worked up— using you like a cum dump.

“god, i love this dirty little mouth for me to use.”

byun euijoo.

cw. thumb sucking, praise, petting, use of “sweetheart”

juju would love the idea of you having an oral fixation in the first place! it makes him feel like he’s a safe place for you, allowing you to keep your mind at ease! he’d be sitting while you have your head in his lap as euijoo presses on your tongue with his thumb, trying to get adjusted to the new feeling. once he gets used to the wet warmth of your mouth, he allows you to suck his thumb. his heart is so full— he can’t help but to coo at you. his pretty partner’s mind is at ease, their eyes closed, smiling as they suck on him, and curled up into him!!! he can’t even help it when his other hand find its way on your head, petting you like a puppy, ohhhh he loves it here. his life is complete he’s so happy having you in his lap.

“hmm, doing so good for me, sweetheart. just how i like it.”

nakakita yuma.

cw. oral, petting, implied pet play, use of “kitty”

oral fixation??? yuma??? perfection!!! he loves loves loves having you on your knees anyways, having you suck his cock or fingers as you daze off is better for him anyways! whenever he’s working at his desk, he’ll place you underneath the table, spring out his cock, and have you just sit there, head resting on his thigh. every once in awhile he’ll check on you, asking if you need anything; to water, a break, a snack— literally anything and he’ll get it for you. if you say no, he’ll hum and nod and pat your pretty little head as he keeps on working. when he feels like enough time has passed, he’ll caress your cheek pull you up into his lap. your collar bell rings a bit when you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, he loves it here too.

“you feelin’ good, kitty? tell me if you need anything.”

asakura jo.

cw. soft!jo, finger sucking, photo taking (consensual)

if i could say jo is a dormant whore, i would but lunéville would think otherwise but i don’t care! we all know that jo has such crazy pretty hands when you say you have an oral fixation, his lips would twitch into his smile (same w his cock but). he’d be so interested, asking you informative questions, taking this whole thing so seriously but in reality he just wants to shove his fingers in your mouth and let you be happy. once he finally does put his fingers in your mouth, whew! jo is mesmerized. your eyes are getting cloudy, your lips are plump against him, your mouth is letting out cute hums. he’s so obsessed, he’d literally take pictures of you to look at for later, maybe even a polaroid in his wallet— you’ve got him locked in.

“hold on, lemme take a quick pic of you— it’s pretty.”

shigeta harua.

cw. teasing, thumb sucking, spit play, dumbification

love when oral fixation is an excuse for your dom to make you dumb. harua is just that! got a dom!harua love letter in the works, this is basically a continued of it. when he finds out you have an oral fixation, he can’t help but to hook a smirk onto his face. he’d be so interested. his eyes would darken, his thumb ghosting your bottom lip, you’re already parting them, looking up at him— waiting for him to do something. he’d tease you so bad, saying how you already looked so fucked out when he hasn’t even touched you. when his thumb finally slips past your lips, he loves how you’re making his cutely manicured thumb dirty. once he thinks you’ve had enough, he’d pull out, swiping the spit all over your lips.

“look at you… dumbed out already? just by thumb sucking?”

takayama riki.

cw. kink exploration talk, finger sucking, spit kink

i am a firm believer that taki is an experimentalist (hashtag twin), he’d willingly do everything and anything just once to see what he likes! so when you mentioned that you had an oral fixation, taki was all for it. he’d first ask you what is was, describing it to him so he could fully grasp what it was. when he understood it was like a new world opened, not knowing that he’d like it a little too much. when he places his fingers in your mouth, he’s surprised how much you eased up. your cute eyelashes are perched down, your mouth is all warm, you looked so at peace. when taki asks to take out his fingers, he sees the spit lines connecting from your mouth to his hands. let’s just say he found something out about himself.

“uhm… holy shit, y/n… your spit is really hot.”

hirota riki maus.

cw. ddlg, oral, finger sucking, praise, use of “daddy”

okay. guys. i know. leave me and my daddy maki agenda alone. but seriously. maki would so love to please someone with a oral fixation especially with his huge cock ♡︎ he’d have you perched up on your knees as he basically feeds you with his cock. maki would be literally fighting demons to not cum in your mouth— this was for you, not for him. he’d still coo at you, taking daddy’s cock so well, to use him to ease yourself up. he’d also love finger sucking too. having you drool on him, glossy eyes, and your head on his chest ♡︎ just saying over and over and over how he loves how you’re being so pliant with daddy, taking his fingers after telling him what you wanted. gah you’re so brave! daddy is so so so proud of you ♡︎

“takin’ daddy well. thank you for telling me what you wanted.”

had so so so much fun writing this ugh!

back 2 catalog

[avidfics]

giving into sevika's advances

summary: Sevika has been chasing you for weeks and you finally give in.

warnings: Grumpy sevika, bratty reader, suggestive topics, light touching, reader takes charge

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fidgeting. During interrogations, Sevika has had plenty of macho men fidget under her weighted glare. It was one of her favorite hobbies afterall. 

But for her to be fidgeting? Disgusting. Yet, sure enough, her thumb was reflexively flicking her pocket knife open and closed repeatedly in a flash as her eyes kept catching any movement from the bar’s swinging doors. Waiting. 

“Does my eyes deceive me?” Finn, one of the flunkies on her team shout loudly to the other people on her team in the otherwise empty bar. “Is the great terror of Zaun nervous?” 

A chorus of ooohs echo around the room, ignoring the heavy ‘thud’ of Sevika spearing the wooden table with her knife. “If you like being able to move your jaw I suggest you shut your mouth. Or I'll do it for you."

“Do it” he tosses right back. A cocky smile bright as he swags over and proudly offers the side of his face. “But 50 bucks bets that you won’t, cause your sweet little assistant will be here any minute and you don’t want her to see the monster you really are.” 

The fucking idiot hit the nail on the head, and boy was that annoying. Two months ago you showed up, looking like a vision out of one of her dirtiest fantasies. You strolled into Silco’s main base, ass clad in black jeans that hugged you like a second skin and a blouse, though modest enough, had a few buttons loose at the top that provided a peek at your cleavage if someone looked down hard enough. 

And sevika did look. She wasn’t ashamed. Your tits were fucking glorious and made her clit so sensitive her eyes crossed.  

Jinx- the wacko- loved your confidence immediately and after an extensive background check, and minor threatening, Zilco hired you. 

And Sevika had been trying to get in your pants every single chance she got, even though you weren’t her usual easily submissive type. You were prissy, stubborn, and had a stick up your ass that she desperately wanted to take out and replace with her silicone cock. 

She was pussy whipped and she hadn’t even had a taste. Even her team had noticed. 

Which is why she had to work double time to keep them in check and why her fist slams into Finn’s metal jaw with a satisfying crunch. The pain in her knuckles felt good and a bloodthirsty smile slicks across her face even as she presses the pocket knife to Finn’s neck. “Pay up fucker. And let it be a reminder that I could give a fuck about some assistant’s sweet ass.” 

“Good to know.”

+++

The topic of your sweet ass was not what you were expecting to hear walking into Silco’s bar to handle some paperwork. 

Especially not from the Sevika. Who looked dumbstruck at you even with Finn’s collar bunched in her bruised fist and the tip of a knife to his neck. 

Crap she looked good af. A black muscle shirt clung to her frame and cuffed at her biceps. Her hair was in a half hazard ponytail with loose pieces falling into her eyes. Giving her a slightly crazed look that made your face heat. 

But once again, this was a reminder that Sevika was not someone to mess with. She was the second scariest person in Zaun, and the blood on her knuckles served as an excellent reminder not to fraternize with your superiors, no matter how delicious they looked in a fitted tee.  

“Please continue.” You swivel away from her stunned look in your high heels. “My ass and I will be making the rounds.” 

Mumbled curses and the distinct sound of Finn’s goan of pain follows you as you strid away, a purposeful swing in your hips, to another member of the team to get details on inventory. They give you an easy grin and answer your questions but clam up as a shadow falls over the table.

“Scram.” It wasn’t a question and they hurried away. 

You huff a sigh and plop a seat on the now forgotten stool. Crossing your legs just to see dark whiskey colored eyes fasten to your legs for a heated minute. “Sevika, feel free to leave. I wouldn’t want you to worry about my ass and I.” 

A hefty groan leaves her lips, and she drags her hand down her face. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Whatever. You begin your work on your clipboard. “That’s what you said.” 

A whispered “smart ass” is muttered before you jump at her taking your clipboard out your hands and invading your space. “Believe me.” Dark eyes stare down at you with an intensity that makes you shift uncomfortably on the stool in an attempt to alleviate a budding tingle. 

“Your ass is very much a concern of mine.” 

‘Prove it.’’ Is on the tip of your tongue but you hold back. Provoking Sevika would not end well for you or your ass. Get in, get the job done, and get out. Those were the rules. 

You reach your hand out. A demanding arch in your raised eyebrow to convey a bravado you truly didn’t possess. “Hand it over. I’m sure there’s a face you need to pummel in an alley somewhere.” A mocking smile plasters across your lips. “Better get to it.”

One step. That’s all it takes for her to encroach closer in your space. So close you can see the way her nostrils flare. “Face pummeling is on Friday’s.” A heat was simmering between the two of you, and the more time you spent in her presence, the more you wavered on deciding if you wanted to cool it or let it go unchecked. Especially as she hid your clipboard out of your reach so her hands were free to grab the wooden legs of your chair and scoot you closer to her.

“Ep!” You were so startled that you wrapped your hands around her wrist and immediately regretted it. Her skin was a contrast. One wrist was so warm to the touch, while the other held a stark coldness. You wondered what the duality would feel like wrapped around in clean sheets, preferably naked. 

None of this escaped Sevika’s notice. The mocking smile that once graced your lips is now mirrored back at you. “I like the sound of you bossing me around.” The words trail as her eyes fasten to your lips. “Do it again.” 

The irony that she was the one making commands wasn’t lost on you. “Leave me alone, Muscle-head. I’m way too much for you. Better stick to your usual simpering type.”

A smirk, the one she wears before charging head first into a fight, emerges. “You don’t think you're my type?” An eye roll in return has her releasing a small chuckle. The unexpected feel of a warm, calloused hand gripping your bare calf makes your facade of boredom slip as you frantically look behind sevika to check for wondering eyes. Luckily, you had seated in a secluded nook of the bar, where a wall partially hid you both. But all it would take is someone popping their head in the entryway to see the inappropriate way your boss was holding you and how much it was turning you on.

And those damn hands just won’t stay still. Your legs were crossed, one over the other, but that didn’t pause Sevika’s frisky hands moving up and down your exposed legs, her thumbs circling around your knees and in a soothing way that hinted at how they would move against your clit. “Think you’re mistaken babe. You might be a bit more brattish than other girls I’ve had, but I guarantee when I get you under me, I’ll have you whining for my touch just like the others.” 

A scoff gets choked in your throat with the new caress against your sensitive skin. There was no hesitancy in her touch, just a heavy grasp that urged you to ease your tightly crossed legs so her wonderful fingers could be closer to where you needed them. 

But you needed to come to your senses. Taking a chance, you lean back and feign falling off the stool, and are satisfied by the speed of sevika hoisting you back up to safety. But it gives you leverage to fist her shirt by the collar and fold her massive body over to your seated height. 

With the new vantage point, her macho act was so transparent you snickered at what you now realized. These past weeks you were sooo apprehensive when it came to Sevika’s blatant advances because you’d have to be insane to entertain the enforcer of Zaun. The fierce enforcer of Silco who made men taller than you piss themselves with just a sharp stare. 

The same woman, who harshly gripped your waist to make sure you were safely seated, didn’t have her usual malice in her eyes when it came to you. In fact, when it came to you, she was oddly docile. Still demanding, but with a gentleness that you never noticed. 

Perhaps, you could have some fun afterall. She’s still leaning over you as you take a chance to goad her. “Strange, from my observation you’re the one doing all the begging.”  The noticeable way her jaw tightens is almost humorous. “And it sounds so good coming from your lips.” 

You both were in a trance as you dare to cover her hands with yours. And the way her eyes flare totally made it worth it. “Maybe I was too hasty to turn you down all those times.” you murmured against check.

“Ya think,” she saids with a grumpy attitude but the way her hands are frantically palming your exposed flesh under your direction is a dead giveaway of her need. “Made me chase your ass for weeks.”

“Poor baby.” you coo against her sensitive ear. “Let’s make a deal.” Both pairs of hands move up your legs and reach past your skirt and to your upper thighs, scrunching up your skirt so much your panties are surely peaking through. You can feel the tightly held restraint it was taking Sevika to not overpower your hands. Just that knowledge made a delicious shiver shoot up from your core. “We’ll continue with whatever this is but with one condition. I get total control of everything while we’re together.” 

A rough scoff rakes up Sevika's chest, yet she presses herself even closer to your body. Her nose dragging up and down your collarbone. “Babe, ya know who you're talking to right? Think I’m that whipped that I’ll follow you around as if you have beer-flavored tits? Why would I when there’s a brothel right down the street?”

Asshole

“That’s up to you. But let’s test it out first, yeah?” Her quick head nod is the only green light needed as you smile with satisfaction. Slowly you remove your hands off hers. “What do you want?” you whisper in her ear. 

The answer is immediate. “Need to get between your warm thighs.” The second after you murmur a concession your legs are spread wide to accommodate Sevika’s bulky form that was now pressed against your panty-covered pussy. A tiny moan leaves your lips as she presses you even closer so you need to depend on her to avoid tumbling out the chair.

You dodge the hungry kiss she tries to plant on your lips. “Uh uh, musclehead.” You pry up in the chair, pressing slow, wet kisses along her neck. “I didn’t give you permission.” A slew of curses are tossed from her impatient lips as she throws her head back. Which is perfect for you as you continue to attack her neck. The image of her tortured face will be in your memory forever. “What’s your choice, love? Me or the brothel?” It takes effort but you reach your lips to her ear and suckle her earlobe.

“Shit. You fuck.” she groans. 

“Good choice baby. Go ahead and taste me.” A hand holds the nape of your neck as her full lips takes over and devours you with the most desperate kiss you ever experienced. All you can do was sit there and take it with the knowledge that you were still in full control. 

It was over too soon but Sevika wore a goofy overly confident wolfish grin. “Knew you’d give in eventually.”

The eyeroll was inescapable as you give her a patronizing pat on the chest. “Sure musclehead. Follow me to your office, your going to finish my paperwork while I take a nap.”

She grumbles but is right on your heels. Taking the clipboard in one hand and your hand in the other. “Guess this makes me your obedient lap dog now, huh?��

“You said it not me.”

[writeriguess]

If you’re not comfortable writing this I completely understand it’s a sensitive topic but my ed is getting bad again especially with summer coming up I feel like I’m spiraling every time I think of having to wear a bathing suit or something like that.

I kinda like shinsou atm. Where he notices your eating habits are becoming poor beforehand, could you do him catching his girlfriend forcing herself to throw up after someone makes a not so nice comment about how much she ate at dinner that night. She kinda just threw away her plate and disappeared upstairs and when he goes to look for her and comfort her he finds her in the bathroom yk.

My sister called me fat the other night and I got upset because I thought I was looking skinny that day but I got told that she was just joking and that I need to stop being so sensitive about it but I just can’t help it. It’s caused me to get back into really poor eating habits again. I mean at least I’m acknowledging that it’s happening this time around so I feel like it’s a slight improvement. I feel like I’m over sharing atp so I’ll just stop and submit this lol.

author's note: You're not oversharing. I promise. I’m really proud of you for recognizing what’s happening and being open about it — that takes strength, especially when you’re in a vulnerable place. It makes perfect sense that a comment like that would hurt, and I’m really sorry someone made you feel that way. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re just being human.

Especially Like This

Dinner had been fine. Or at least it looked fine, on the outside.

You had tried. You’d taken your seat, plastered on a smile, even filled your plate more than you usually would — a quiet, personal win, even if it didn’t feel like one. You were already on edge, your brain running calculations behind your eyes the moment the food hit your plate. But you were trying. That had to count for something, right?

Then she said it.

“You’re really gonna eat all that?” Your sister, with a laugh that didn’t sound entirely mean, but didn’t sound harmless either. “Didn’t think you had the room in you.”

It dropped on you like a stone. Heavy. Unmovable. And everyone else just kept talking like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t matter.

You laughed, hollow and automatic. “Guess I was hungrier than I thought,” you muttered.

No one followed up. No one came to your defense.

Except Shinsou, who sat quietly next to you, his fork paused halfway to his mouth, eyes flicking toward your face. You didn’t meet his gaze. You couldn’t.

The rest of dinner blurred. The food sat on your plate like a threat, and you couldn’t look at it anymore. When no one was paying attention, you got up, scraped the contents into the trash, and muttered something about being tired.

You felt his eyes on your back as you walked upstairs. But you didn’t stop.

You shut the bathroom door. Locked it.

It wasn’t about the food. Not really. It was about control. It was about the heat crawling up your skin and the tightness in your chest and the way your own reflection looked like a funhouse distortion of how you thought you’d looked earlier that day. You thought you’d looked okay. Thin, even.

But now?

Now you couldn’t tell. Now you hated every inch of yourself.

You dropped to your knees on the cold tile. Hands shaking. Breath shallow.

And then— Knock, knock.

You froze.

“Babe?” Shinsou’s voice, muffled through the door, low and soft. You could hear the concern in it — the way he always could tell when something wasn’t right, even if you hadn’t said a word.

You stayed silent. Maybe if you didn’t answer, he’d leave.

But he didn’t.

“I know you’re in there,” he said, gentle but firm. “Can you open the door for me?”

You bit down on your lip. Hard. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Not on the floor. Not with red eyes and a sore throat and shame clinging to your skin like something you couldn’t scrub off.

“I’m fine,” you choked out. “I just… needed a minute.”

“Baby,” he said again. Slower this time. “Please open the door.”

You stared at the handle.

“I saw what happened downstairs. I saw her say that shit to you, and I saw how you looked after. I’ve seen how you’ve been eating lately — or not eating. You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not here to judge you, I just—” his voice broke a little, barely noticeable unless you knew him like you did—“I just want to help.”

You hesitated. Everything inside you told you to keep the door shut, to bury this, to hide. But another part of you — the one that loved him, trusted him — reached out. Slowly. Uncertain.

Click.

The door cracked open just enough for him to slip inside.

He didn’t rush you. Didn’t push. He just quietly stepped in, locked it again behind him, and sat down on the cold tile across from you like he had all the time in the world.

You kept your eyes on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“I don’t care about how I see you,” he said gently. “I care about you. And I care that you’re hurting right now.”

Your throat tightened. You tried to speak but the words caught.

He scooted closer, not touching you yet, just offering his presence. “I get it,” he said softly. “When people make comments like that… it sticks. And it’s worse when it’s someone you care about. Someone who’s supposed to protect you.”

You nodded, barely.

“I thought I looked okay today,” you said finally. Your voice cracked on the word okay. “I actually thought I looked skinny for once. And then she said that, and suddenly everything just felt… wrong. I felt wrong.”

Shinsou reached out, slowly, waiting until you gave him permission with your body language. When you didn’t flinch, he gently placed his hand over yours.

“People who say things like that? They don’t understand the damage they do,” he murmured. “But I do. I know where your mind goes when someone makes a comment like that. I know how hard you’ve been working to just get through meals, and how easy it is for one sentence to make it all unravel.”

Tears welled in your eyes again.

“I don’t want to fall back into this,” you whispered. “I feel like I’m losing all the progress I made.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly, but without judgment. “Slipping doesn’t erase progress. It just means you’re human. And you’re fighting. That matters more than anything.”

You pressed your face into your hands. “It’s so hard, Toshi. I feel like I’m never going to be normal about food. Like I’m always going to see it as this… enemy.”

He moved closer, pulled you gently into his arms.

“I don’t need you to be normal,” he said against your hair. “I just need you to be safe. And I want to be there with you — even on the days it gets ugly. Especially on those days.”

You curled into him, letting his warmth soothe the tremble in your bones.

“What if I mess up again?” you asked quietly. “What if I keep messing up?”

“Then we keep trying,” he said. “Every time. I’m not leaving you over this. I love you. And loving you means standing beside you when things are hard — not just when they’re easy.”

Your voice came out small. “Even like this?”

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, brushing a tear from your cheek with the back of his knuckle.

“Especially like this.”

You broke then, sobs escaping your chest in waves you couldn’t stop. He just held you tighter, grounding you. Letting you fall apart without shame.

When you finally calmed enough to breathe again, he was still holding you. Still here.

“We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “One day at a time. And when the voice in your head starts lying to you again, I’ll be here to remind you of the truth. That you are so much more than what you see in the mirror. And that you’re worth loving. Exactly as you are.”

And in his arms, even with your shame still lingering, something in you believed him.

Just a little.

But it was enough.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

NOW IM CURIOUS do you have a theory as to what happened to suo’s eye?? i’ve seen a few suggesting he’s a victim of human trafficking, was sold into slavery by his abusing/powerful parents, etc. i’m still not sure what i think happened 🥲

hmmmmmmmm ok so lemme be so frank here im still rlly new to the wbk fandom so im still no so familiar with the theories and inside jokes n allat so bear with me here ok

the human trafficking and slavery thing is actually really interesting because there are a lot of things about suo that stood out like a burning red flag to me while i was reading the manga. if you didn't know this, i'm chinese and i know a lot about chinese culture and i speak mandarin fluently. in chinese, suo can be written as 锁, which means lock. wbk has a lot of characters whose names represent them (ie; sakura - cherry blossoms are often representative of sakura in manga panels, endo - it can mean fire and it describes how he talks about takiishi like a "burning inferno"), and suo's meaning lock in chinese and him being fond of chinese culture and items is really interesting, because a lock holds something down or keeps it away.

and i know that there is a kanji (japanese writing) for his name, but this is interesting as well. the 2 kanji that make up "suo" mean "revive, resurrection" and "raft, wood". revive or resurrection almost means to be reborn in a way, or to live a whole new life or to come back from the dead, perhaps hinting that suo has revived from a near death experience or the lowest point of his life. the raft and wood part could imply that he escaped whatever he was locked to (likely trafficking) using some sort of raft. i also know that the letters combined means "sappan wood", which i just think is a reference to his character color because this is literally the color of sappan wood dye:

now let's get into the main part of this theory. we have heard time and time again that suo is fond of chinese items. his last name can be translated into "lock" in chinese. i've mentioned that he might've escaped from whatever he was locked to by some sort of raft. i'm going to talk about some heavy topics, so bear with me here. i believe that suo might have been born in china, got trafficked, then escaped to japan overseas using a raft with help, then changed the lettering of his last name. outlandish, i know. but i have evidence.

we know that suo doesn't move in his sleep from an official art by nii satoru. weird timing here, but in history, when african americans were on ships to be sold off to slavery, they were shackled to tight and compact spaces to sleep and eat. i'm so sorry if anyone is sensitive to these topics or thinks that talking about this stuff because of a manga is ridiculous, but since this is a theory, i had to bring it up. i'm sorry. but the slaves weren't allowed to move because there were so many people, and it would be too hot and too crowded if they moved around. plus, the shackles restrained most of their movement anyways. i suspect that suo might've been in a similar situation and just developed a habit of not moving around in his sleep.

i'd also like to mention that human trafficking is, unfortunately, still a heavy problem in china. north korean escapees--especially women--will nearly always require the help of a smuggler, who is a man (who, in this specific scenario, is chinese) who will smuggle them into china but sell them to human traffickers. i doubt that this is the case with suo, but i think it's still an important topic to bring up when we're making a theory about a character who could potentially have been trafficked.

now here's some more. here is a map of east asia.

as you can see, there are definitely ways to get to china to japan by boat. i don't think suo could have ever rafted here alone; i don't think some random kid would have been able to register himself an id or anything either. suo is 15 currently in the story, and we know that he's been in japan long enough to make a name for himself. and in case you're pointing out "but his first name is japanese!", people can legally change their first names.

the reason why no one knows who he actually defeated in middle school, if this theory is true (which is highly unlikely), is because he was middle school age, but not actually in middle school when he defeated them. maybe he was still in china at the time. idk.

so short answer: yes, he was human trafficked, and there was some sort of scar left behind. sorry i had a whole yap session, i kind of looked into the og mentioned theory because i'd never heard this theory before, but i ended up getting invested and made my own😭

[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 3

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

5.6k words

masterlist - two - three - four

Chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️chapter warnings⚠️

[smut, non-con drugging, angst] MDNI

(smut warnings under the cut)

🔞smut warnings🔞

[switch! josh (mostly dom josh), reader says good boy like once, afab reader, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), josh is kinda gross (in a hot way), choking, oral fixation, squirting, cumming inside, teasing and taunting, manhandling]

You were right on his trail as he left, his footsteps heavy and loud with frustration and anger. Your timid steps followed behind. You both walked in silence (him mostly just stomping) until he reached the door to his room in the lodge. He stops for a second, looking at you with a glare. You’ve never seen him get so riled up.

“Enjoy the little show?” He mumbled, turning back to the door and opening it-quickly heading in and sitting on his bed with a loud sigh.

You felt a pang of hurt as he treated you a little harshly, but you understood his tone and why he was acting this way; the whole ouija board was a dumb decision in the first place. It was probably embarrassing to him that you had to see him like that. You enter slowly, shutting the door. You keep the main room light off and walk over to the lamp on his bedside table to turn on the dim light, before sitting next to him and giving him enough space for his comfort.

“Josh..I understand why you’re upset. But, you don’t need to act like this towards me. I’m here to help you. Not to get this cold behavior.” He looks over at you, his face contorted with anger and confusion. But it gradually fades as he lets your words sink in. He looks more like he’s just regretful and sad now at how he was being towards you.

He groans, looking away as he rubs his head anxiously. “I know I know, I’m..I’m sorry [Y/n], I just…I feel like I was getting messed with, ya know? Like..I know how much we love playing tricks on each other, but this feels a little overkill..”

“Yeah, you're right. It doesn't really matter anyway. I'm over it.” Josh deflects but you can clearly tell that it's quite the opposite.

You listen to his words, nodding along. “I don’t think they were messing with you, Josh. Especially knowing how sensitive the topic of your sisters is for you. And, to be frank, messing with ouija boards is not something to treat like a childrens board game. Those things are real, and have scary consequences. Nonetheless being on Native American grounds. This is why I was so against it, because I knew something like this would happen.” Josh just looks down to the ground, his expression looking like he has a lot on his mind. Like he was getting ready to say or do something. After what feels like an eternity, Josh speaks up.

“Josh, you don't have to pretend to be fine. I would be just as upset if I were in your shoes. If anything, I wouldn't be able to carry myself as well as you do.” You assure him and put a hand on his warm back. Josh's gaze is still on the ground and the room falls silent for a second. You can tell Josh is looking for the right words to say.

“Thank you, [Y/n]. I appreciate it, I really do.. No one's ever-” Josh’s mouth slightly hangs open as he tries to find his words. “I just don't want to think about it right now. I just don't want to think at all right now.” He admits, rubbing his temples with one hand. You watch, silently. Chewing your bottom lip anxiously as you two sit there in awkward silence.

You knew Josh was going through a lot right now, and you could only imagine what was going on inside his head. You knew you couldn't do much to ease his pain, but the most you could do was be there for him. Over the months you've known Josh, you've learned that his biggest working coping mechanism so far is distractions. There were times where he had a shitty day and called you up just to talk, play video games, and distract him from whatever terrible emotion he's feeling. And you're more than happy to do that.

You take a deep breath in and prepare yourself as you firmly take his hands into yours, putting them on each side of your waist, and embracing him into a gentle hug.

“[Y/n]?..” Josh whispers at the side of your head. He was taken aback a bit, but definitely wasn’t opposed to this affectionate action.

“Just, let me do this for you.” You murmur, tightening your grip around his back. “Let me be here for you..” You rest your chin in the crook of his neck, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. He sighs, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Thank you.” He whispers. He rests his head against yours, quietly inhaling your scent and hair. His large and rough hands gripping your soft flesh against your clothes. The clothes that he couldn’t help but want to rip off of you the moment his hands were on your waist. The hug lasted longer than just a friendly one, and you knew he noticed that too. There was no questioning it; you both wanted each other in one way or another. The tension filled balloon that's lasted over the 8 months since you met is about to pop.

As the hug continued, Josh tested the waters by lightly rubbing his hands up and down your sides, his grip getting a bit more confident. You began feeling some type of way, getting more bold with the newfound wave of arousal, sexual tension, and energy. Your fingers delicately and playfully travel down from his back, to his chest, and down his semi-toned body in a painfully slow way, making sure to tease him with every soft stroke. You take a gamble by hooking your fingers underneath his pants and boxers, but only on the hem which drove him absolutely mad.

Your thumbs caress his v-line, enhancing the sexual atmosphere. Josh was loving every bit of this, and he started to nuzzle into your neck-leaving light kisses against your warm and soft skin; eventually turning into rough ones with a few bites here and there as your hands began to unbutton his pants while your lips placed hungry kisses against his shoulder.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll give you something else to think about..” Josh leans away to look you in the eyes, a smirk on his lips as he raises a brow at you.

“Yeah? What did you have in mind, Marbles?” He asked in a lighthearted tone. You smile, a seductive glint in your [e/c] eyes. You firmly push him back against his bed, and start sensually stripping off your sweater and leggings in front of him, leaving you in your skirt and undershirt. After placing yourself in between his thighs, he bit his lip and looked at you with adoration and excitement, ready for whatever you were about to do to him.

Josh bit his lip in anticipation from your words as he looked you up and down. “Oh? Well, I’m all yours to handle~” And with that, you begin to undo his pants further, pulling up his shirt and leaning over to his stomach as you plant kisses of appreciation all over his skin-pulling down his pants in the process. Josh sighs, and his eyelids lower. His heart rate picks up as he watches you, your beautiful figure treating him like his body was the most precious and delicate thing in the world.

“Let’s just say, something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time.” You reply back, giving him a not so innocent smile.

Once his pants were low enough, you rise a bit and look down at his bulging boxers. He looked absolutely delicious, in this view, just for you. You look up at his lust filled eyes and bring your face closer to his-a soft gasp escaping his lips as you slowly bring his boxers down next. The intense eye contact had his head spinning and he needed to do something with these overwhelming emotions.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair, not too rough though, and crashed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss. You both hungrily consume each other while you take his pulsating and thick cock into your hand and begin to stroke him. Thankfully it was already soaked in precum, making it easier to rub him up and down at the speed you were going.

Through the kiss, you could feel his whole body stutter and tense with pleasure as you continued to stroke him. His hips slightly raised off the bed, chasing for more. You could tell Josh was slowly losing his composure as he started to let out small broken moans, while trying his absolute best to continue the kiss.

“Ngh~ Fuck..” Josh whimpers out as he turns his head away from your intense and lustful gaze, maybe in embarrassment? You didn't expect him to start whimpering and falling apart this early, not that you're complaining, you actually want to keep pulling these delicious sounds from him.

Josh’s neck is exposed to you, so you take the liberty to start kissing it and leave small marks. You slowed the pace of your hand down to a more sensual one while making sure to never stop sucking on his neck. Josh’s senses were going into overdrive and he definitely felt like he was going to cum soon, but he didn't want it to end. This caused his thighs to tense under you from the stimulation, and he put his hand on your wrist that's stroking his length to anchor himself. Which you found to be one of the hottest things ever.

Josh puts the back of his other hand on his mouth, clearly trying to muffle the beautiful sounds he's giving you.

“Don't be shy, I want to hear you~” You say in a sultry tone while grabbing his hand from his mouth and bringing it to your clothed breast. Instinctively, Josh whips his head at you; those beautiful green sex glazed eyes fixated on you. His hand started to massage your breast under your grip, using his thumb to stroke against your nipple from under your bra that was growing harder from the stimulation.

Your eyes start to flutter and you lean into his ear, “Thaaat’s it, there’s a good boy. You’re doing so well for me.” You whisper. The praise lit something inside him and he needed more of you. As you’re continuing to stroke him, Josh removes his hands from you and to your shirt-damn near ripping it off and tosses it aside. His fingers go straight to your ribs and grips you for dear life. His half-lidded eyes soak up every inch of you with lust and adoration.

“Wow..” He whispers breathlessly in between moans. “..You’re so fucking beautiful [Y/n].” His hands dart to the back of your bra and unhooks it, letting your tits out into his view. He was basically drooling from the sight, immediately taking action. He leans up and captured one of your nipples into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it like it was the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted, while using his hands to hold you in place and to pleasure your other nipple with his fingers; pinching and circling with his thumb at an unbelievably delectable pace that had you heating up to the core.

“Fuck, Josh..” You whimper out, unable to control your voice. Your hand strokes his dick sporadically, unable to contain your focus. This pushes Josh to go further as he moves a free hand under your skirt, and starts stroking your already damp underwear. Josh hums at the feeling, circling a finger on your clit-causing you to suck in a sharp breath of air and buck into his hand. “Oh, someone seems to be desperate for more, huh?” He mumbles against your breast. You roll your eyes, “You’re one to talk. You’re practically using my hand to fuck yourself.” You make an emphasis as you squeeze his cock that was frantically rubbing against your hand.

He hums, in a somewhat defeated tone. “I guess I’ll take a loss on this one then, hm?” He guided your hand away from his cock, clearly wanting to let you have all the attention right now. You didn't know what he had in store for you, but you were excited for it.

His index and middle fingers rub circles over your clothed hole, before pushing past the boundaries of your underwear, in between your coated folds, and slowly sink them into your wet pussy-earning a harsh groan from you as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. “A-ah fuck~” is all your able to manage out from the feeling of his thick fingers.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t take my revenge~” He coo’s into your neck, kissing and biting your skin. He works his fingers into you with such precision, you'd be surprised if he didn't have any experience beforehand. You grind yourself down onto his hand, chasing for more. You could feel your body grow in temperature from the body heat and pleasure. You look down at the sight below you, and what a sight it is; Josh's lidded green eyes intensely gazing up at you, his bottom lip slightly pulled between his teeth. His face clearly searches for any slight reactions you make, almost calculating. You feel your body flush even more just from the way he's looking at you, the intense eye contact making everything feel more passionate. You feel him working you up, getting you close to your peak, but your body feels a small wave of disappointment and confusion once Josh's fingers leave from inside you.

Josh sits up and puts a firm hand on your waist, using it to turn you over on your back so that he's towering over you. The position instantly made you feel submissive, and Josh's eyes never left yours.

“You look so damn hot underneath me.” Josh declares and all you can do is let out a bashful whine. Josh smirks at your reaction and roughly puts his hand on your jaw, the switch up only turning you on even more as you can feel more slick build up in between your legs. You instinctively put your hand on his wrist that's holding your jaw.

Josh moves his fingers out of your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, reaching down to catch you in an almost-rough, passionate kiss. Your hands instantly gravitate towards his hair, gripping at the dark brown tufts to pull him impossibly closer than he already was which earns you a groan from Josh.

“Where's all that confidence now?” He smugly asks, feeling as if he won with your silence. Josh uses his hand on your jaw to use his index and middle finger to prod at your lips, parting them. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue causing small strings of saliva to spill out of your mouth. You can taste yourself on the same fingers that were once inside you, only adding to the erotic sensations you're feeling in this moment. And all you can do is look him in his eyes that continue to stare you down with dominance. You didn't expect Josh to have this kinky side, not that you're complaining, it's actually quite the opposite. You're soaking it all up, letting him do as he wishes with you.

His wet fingers trace down your body, passing your nipples and giving it a light pinch, causing you to slightly arch your back, pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and let out a small squeal. You feel him lightly chuckle into this kiss from your reaction, and he continues to rake his saliva coated fingers down your body, only slightly touching you, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers make their way down to your mound, teasing you and caressing you there, making you wiggle around in anticipation. The kisses move from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. Josh makes sure to take his time there, sucking more dark marks onto your warm skin. His fingers prod at your entrance, collecting just enough slick to ghost his fingers over your clit.

“J-Josh..” You say in a strangled voice, his teasing making it hard to find your words. Your hips involuntarily stutter into his fingers.

“Yes~?” He replies in a low, sultry teasing tone, urging you to say more. You could feel the bass of his voice vibrate against your neck and it only enhanced all the senses you were feeling. Josh slightly lifts his head from your neck to make eye contact with you. With his eyes dark, lidded, and his hair tousled only enhanced his looks in this moment.

“P-please..” You can feel yourself become bashful under his stare and you find it hard to keep eye contact. It's still hard for you to believe that you're even in this position with Josh right now. All the nights you lay in bed alone imagining what it would feel like to be this close to you in such a state is finally coming to fruition.

Fingers trace their way up your torso, circling around your breast, and tracing back down.

“C’mon. You're a big girl, use your words~” Josh teases. You swallow thickly, your fingers raking up into his brown locks. The smooth strands of his hair being gripped by your hands roughly as you gain your focus to speak.

“Please, I need you to fuck me. I’ve been needing this for so long..” You whisper breathlessly. Josh’s lips part a bit, and something changed in his eyes. They seemed, hungry. Frantic. Desperate, even. It sent chills through your veins and you found it enticing.

“Well look at that, she CAN speak. Such a good girl~ Your wish is mine to grant..” Josh licks his lips as he makes his hands to your breasts, fingering your nipples sensually. Your back arches, and you can feel your pussy throbbing more for friction. You let out a soft moan, which Josh laps up when he places a rough and hard kiss to your lips. His hands find their way to your waist and up to grip your ribs. His fingers rub against your bones, inciting a welcomed tinge of pain. He breaks the kiss slowly as he leans up and looks at you with a pure sex filled gaze,

“I’m gonna need you to prepare yourself, ok? You think you can handle that?” He whispers.

You give him a confused look. “Why?”

He smirks, and places his dick at your dripping wet entrance-your body instinctively jerks on his tip. “Because I’m gonna rearrange your guts.”

Before you can react, he firmly plunges himself inside you. The amazing stretch of his length inside you makes you whine out, and he quickly covers your mouth. “Shh, don’t want everyone to hear us now do we?” He mutters into your ear. You shake your head and whimper as he picks up the pace. Your juices coat his dick which makes it easier to adjust around him. The pressure and harshness was so new to you, you didn’t know how to cope. Your legs wrapped around his waist and hands gripped his hair more. His pace was fast but also steady-your body was writhing underneath him. Loud moans and gasps were muffled by his hand that was trying to escape. His own breathing was labored but controlled, and his eyes were shut tightly. You could tell he was enjoying this to the fullest.

He pushed two of his thick fingers into your mouth, and your tongue happily licked them up and down. You guys made eye contact as you did so and you could feel his dick twitch inside you from it. “You have, NO idea how long I’ve wanted this [Y/n]. I fucking missed you so much. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, God you feel incredible.” Josh breathlessly claims, taking his fingers out.

You drink up his praises like a dehydrated pup, and your heart starts to beat faster than it ever had. “I missed you too Josh, I’ve wanted this for so long as well. I’ve wanted to be with you like this since I left the mental ward. Jesus, all I’ve thought about was you.” Josh’s eyes flicker for a moment. Like a deep thought crossed his mind. His expression dropped slightly, but just as quick as it came it was gone. You were gonna ask about it until he pressed his lips on yours and continued to pound into you and it erased any thought you had.

His fingers dig into your flesh, his nails were definitely gonna leave marks. But you didn’t care. All you could think about was his dick absolutely demolishing you. The sounds of your guys’ combined moans and his cock fucking your wet cunt was all you could focus on. Josh brings a hand down from your waist to your clit. His finger pads work on it in rough yet gentle circles, coaxing out intense shocks of pleasurable waves through your body. Your hips thrust into his to match his pace as you chase your high. “C’mon baby, you got this. Let yourself unravel. I want to feel you cum on my dick~” Josh coos against your lips. You whine out a moan as you nod, putting your attention on your upcoming orgasm.

The way his cock was rubbing up into your walls, the way his hips were slapping into yours, his groans echoing into your ears; it was all you could’ve asked for and more. You were going crazy. Your hands went to his back, your fingers digging into his toned body. Your nails leave harsh mark lines to show your..Intense actions with each other, you could say. But you didn’t care. And Josh was certainly loving it. The pain and pleasure mixed into one was making the euphoric atmosphere between you two, far more enjoyable than you guys would have imagined.

You were almost there, you were almost reaching your peak; everything was building up and up. Josh clasps his free hand around your neck, lightly and effectively choking you while never halting the movement of his fingers on your clit and the pounding of his cock. All you're able to do is arch your back and moan in delight as you instinctively reach to hold onto Josh's hand and wrist that's gripping your neck. Josh's thrusts start pistoning into you with such force and roughness that it deliciously rubbed against your inner walls in all the right spots, his fingers on your clit moving at a rapid pace, and his grip tightening ever so slightly on your neck, you were on cloud nine. You feel the pressure in your lower regions build higher and higher, almost as if it was about to pop. You were so close.

Josh leans in close, his warm panting breath tickling your ear. You're not sure what he's doing and everything is happening too quickly before you can find out. You feel something wet and warm sensually slide from your jaw to your cheekbone, the peculiar feeling sent shivers down your spine. That's when you realize Josh just licked the side of your face, taking you completely off guard in such a pleasurable way. You didn't know Josh could turn you on and heighten this moment more than he already has-

“You’ve earned it. Now fucking cum.” He commands in a stern, dominant tone. This is all it takes to push you over the edge, the pressure finally popping. Your vision fades slightly and you feel your eyes roll. All the muscles in your body tensed and tightened, your back arching. Your mouth opens, probably ready to let out an incredibly loud moan but you can't tell anymore. Josh continues to ride you through your orgasm, never stopping his pace and movements on your clit.

All you feel is wet; so, so wet. Your thighs, the sheets under you-Josh‘s hips that were slamming into you; everything felt drenched. You don't find out why until your vision fades back to normal, leaving you to look down where you and Josh were connected. Everything was completely soaked in your cum. You can feel your face burn red as Josh stares at you surprised, his hips stuttering. “Fuck, baby- did you just…?” You had squirted for him, because of him, and it was the sexiest thing he's ever seen in his life.

You weren't expecting this to happen, so you do all you can think of, and just nod. This only causes Josh to speed his thrusts, chasing his orgasm and in turn overstimulating you. “Shit- you're so fucking dirty, baby.” He accentuates each world with a deep thrust. Watching you squirt for him was all he needed to push himself over the edge, his head rolling back, his grip on your neck tightening and untightening. Josh lets out the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard a man make when his seed spills into you, filling you up. (Thank God you were on birth control though, because if not this moment probably wouldn’t have felt like it did). Heavy breaths and broken moans leave both of your guys mouths as Josh slows his pace to a halt, releasing his grasp from your neck and using his hands to hold his weight above you, head dipped catching his breath.

This was the most beautiful and erotic experience to ever happen to you-and Josh as well. You were so overstimulated your body and nerves were literally vibrating inside your skin. You soak up Josh’s form utop; his messy brown locks pulled in all sorts of directions that made him look so sexy, the sweat accumulating on his beautiful olive skin, it was all so intoxicating to see. You look down and huff a small whimper of disappointment when he slowly pulls out of your dripping cunt. He lets out a deep groan when he looks at you, all disheveled and covered in each other's cum. What a gorgeous sight to behold.

“Wow, Marbles..” Josh mumbles as he soothingly rubs your thighs to relieve some tension from your muscles. “..Never thought I’d have a girl squirt for me. What an honor~” You scoff at his teasing comments and use a hand to lazily swat at him.

“Oh shut up. You liked it anyway.” You remark. He catches your hand and raises a brow. “Liked it?” He repeated. He uses your hand to travel down to your coated pussy and sticks your two fingers inside you-your body twitching a bit from the contact, and pulls your fingers out and into his mouth.

Your cheeks flush incredibly red at the sight; his eyes close and he moans against your hand as his brows furrowed in pleasure. You can feel his tongue slowly lick up the fluids from your fingers, and GODS was it hot. He pulls your fingers from his mouth and opens his eyes and leans in for a rough kiss. He sticks his tongue into your mouth and forcefully flushes some of the mixed cum into your mouth-earning a surprised muffled gasp from you. But you don’t reject it. Instead you allow it and embrace the taste.

It was bitter, sweet, and salty all at the same time. You never thought you’d enjoy this kind of taste before, until now. Because it was with Josh. He leans back a bit, smiling that oh so adorable smirk he always had on, “I don’t like it, [Y/n]. I fucking love it.”

You smile weakly, the exhaustion catching up to you. “Is that so? Well I guess we should do this more often then, huh?”

Josh’s eyes sparkle at your words, and nods enthusiastically. “Yes PLEASE! I would love a second round of the bone zone with you.” You both laugh at his eager tone and playful words-taking this moment to just relax and be happy with one another.

“Okay you're done.” You smile and mock roll your eyes at him. Josh just stares at you with that stupid-adorable grin and you playfully shove your hand in his face, shielding his eyes from you. Josh just prys your hand away from his face and pins it down beside your head. “Come on don't be like that, you know you love me~” He deeply whispers close to your face and leans in for a sweet kiss, your lips moving against each other's for a few seconds. You stare into eachothers eyes in silence for a little, Josh looking at you with adoration and much more. If only this moment could last forever.

“Alright I gotta go pee.” You break the silence, your bladder crying out to you causing Josh to roll off of you, letting you sit up. “Well, can I watch?” He asks which you take so unseriously and roll your eyes. You start to dress yourself, getting ready to put your panties on your sticky body before Josh stops you, handing you a towel and you thank him.

“Is there anything you need or want me to get while you're in the bathroom?” Josh asks genuinely, and you find it sweet.

“Uhmm… just a cup of water would be good,” you give him a warm smile while wiping yourself off and changing into your clothes.

“Alright I got ya. The bathroom is the door right across from mine.” Josh informs you, continuing to pull on his boxers and leaving you to take your time to ogle his half naked body. It was still hard for you to believe that you were able to get so close to Josh, see each other again, and then be intimate with each other. You weren't here for a quick fuck and then leave, you wanted to stay for the endgame, to go out on cute dates together, to spend nights in eachother’s rooms watching stupidly bad horror movies, playing video games, and waking up next to eachother. You just hoped Josh felt the same way, but you think you're confident he likes you.

After changing back into you clothes, minus your sweater, you leave Josh's room. The colder air of the hallway in the lodge wafting in your face. As you open the bathroom door, you could feel the transition from expensive hardwood floor to expensive tiles underneath your feet.

After finishing with the toilet and washing your hands, you take some time to look at yourself in the mirror. It's still so hard for you to wrap your head around what just happened, you feel like a giddy school girl. Months and months of crushing finally lead to something and you can't help but want Josh to be your boyfriend.

Josh was waiting for you back in his room, ready with a cold glass of water for you. You open the door to him sitting on his bed, unfortunately now fully clothed, messing around with something on his phone. Josh's eyes reach yours and he gives you a small smile grabbing the water for you off of his nightstand. You take a seat next to him on the bed, taking the water from his hand, thanking him.

As you raise the glass to your lips, you can feel Josh’s gaze on you, staring, taking glances between his phone and you. As you take a few big gulps, a small voice in the back of your head wonders why Josh is watching so observantly while you drink water. The water's cold, refreshing and you finish about half before you're satiated, reaching over him to set it back on the nightstand.

You and Josh continue to talk with each other for a little bit. During the whole conversation Josh would periodically glance at his phone, checking the time, but you weren't sure why. Only 15 minutes into your conversation you start feeling off. You can't explain the feeling. It's as if your body is slowing down. You've reduced your responses down to nodding along with lidded eyes.

“Josh… I’m- m’not feeling good…” You manage out that one sentence, hopefully it's enough for Josh to understand.

“Hey.. just lay down a bit, yeah?..” You feel a warm hand on your back and another on your shoulder guiding you to lay down the bed.

It doesn't feel right anymore, this doesn't feel right. You don't feel good but it's not like you're sick. It feels like your body's slowly shutting off. You can’t really make out what's going on around you. It's like everything is in slow motion. You try to open your mouth, but it suddenly feels dry and your ability to speak goes away. You try to raise a limp arm off the bed, but it doesn't go far; you no longer have control over your own body.

You see Josh's face looking down at you, calculating and watching your every move. You were drugged. You're sure of it. From what, the water? Nothing tasted off, right? Why though? Why would he do this? Why would this happen? Everything was going fine, right? Right..? The only thing you could think about was betrayal and fear you felt in this moment. What was going to happen to you?

The last thing you see is Josh standing above you, peering down at you with a torn look on his face, making no move to help. Many emotions washed over you; hurt, betrayal, and confusion. But you're not able to process them before you let go of consciousness, the world around you fading. And then..It went dark.

[a/n]: here's the long awaited chapter! Sorry for taking so long we got way busier than expected. One of us ended up moving to the next town over so it took a while to get free time to write. All the other chapters should be coming out a lot faster now!

Taglist: @puppygirlella @sigma-alpha-writer-chad

[phoenixyfriend]

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

[venussaidso]

𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞: 𝙆𝙚𝙩𝙪-𝙍𝙖𝙝𝙪

The absorptive, fiery nature of Ketu natives creates a heavy magnetic field around them that can attract individuals who carry a darkness within them which I will be exploring through a number of film/TV characters in this short observation.

This heightened sensitivity to unseen realms makes these natives more likely to attract intense or obsessive individuals, which interestingly, happens to be other Ketu natives or even Rahuvians. These dark, twisted creatures seem to have this natural attraction or fascination to the Ketuvian, as if they were drawn to their void. Though Claire Nakti explored this theme already in her Mula series, the astrological influence of the Big Bad Wolf in Magha's arc in Red Riding Hood piqued my interest. It came as no surprise to me that both Ketu and Rahu are tied to the twisted, evil monster or human obsessed with the Magha or Mula native.

warnings: spoilers!, mentions of abuse, murder and domestic violence.

For example, in Shadow & Bone, a Magha Sun woman shares an intense, hypnotic connection with a Ketuvian man, the Darkling, who disguises his dark true intentions, preying on her deep need for belonging (as he recognizes that need within himself too). His dangerous obsession with her, along with his dark ambitions and twisted mind, reveal him to be the "big bad wolf" in her story.

The same thing happens in Penny Dreadful (right), in which a Magha ASC woman falls for a Ketu-ruled doctor who has an affection for animals, providing her care and understanding to her wild nature, only to be revealed to be the vampire, Dracula. The Magha native sees his storage room filled with hung dead bodies, a chilling symbol of his horrifying nature. He becomes increasingly obsessed with her, his predatory instincts getting into conflict with his feelings with her.

Also, the Darkling would have made a fine addition to my thread of the power-hungry, commanding Ketu archetype, seeing as he is characterized by his ruthless ambition and desire for power, seeking to dominate the world and willing to manipulate others in order to achieve his goals.

Anyways, back to the topic.

Much like in Penny Dreadful, in Marvel's Jessica Jones, the Magha Moon woman was initially drawn to the alluring facade of a Ketu man who used his powers of persuasion to captivate her. At first, she enjoys the thrill, but then she becomes consumed by his darkness. He turns out to be a monster. And even after escaping him, his obsession and infatuation with her increases, endangering those around her.

In Crimson Peak, Thomas Sharpe is played by a Ketuvian, epitomizing the archetype of a wolf in disguise through his charming demeanor and hidden malevolence. Captivated by a Magha Moon woman, he is a sweet and kind gentleman, though beneath this façade lies a manipulative and dangerous character. He attempts to isolate her, slowly revealing himself to be the predator.

This reminded me of the film Rebecca, where a Ketu man portrays himself as this charismatic and caring gentleman much like Thomas Sharpe. His nature reveals itself to be controlling and extremely manipulative.

Another Ketu-ruled character functions exactly the same in the series Big Little Lies, portrayed by the Magha stellium native Alexander Skarsgård, who is a charming yet abusive husband presenting a facade of the perfect family man.

While, of course, there are positive depictions of nodal pairings in fiction, the Ketu people are just generally prone to these obsessive, dangerous energies whether the evil force is Ketu as well or not. Much like Magha Moon Julia Roberts in the film Sleeping with the Enemy, who is trapped in an abusive relationship with every aspect of her life being controlled by her husband. She plans an escape, which calls to a theme of Ketu women running away from men especially; as her character has a lot in common with Jessica Jones, Vanessa Ives (Penny Dreadful), and even Edith Cushing (Crimson Peak). All Magha natives.

Another example I wanted to add is the movie Invisible Man, directed by Mula Moon Leigh Whannell, a film about a woman who escapes from her abusive relationship with a wealthy scientist, who happens to be played by Ardra Moon Oliver Jackson-Cohen.

As you've seen and will see in this thread of examples, these Ketu characters tend to be in intense relationships with other Ketu people, and also Rahuvians, being the center of their fixation or destructive obsession. In Phantom Thread, two Ketuvians are captivated with each other and fall into a twisted relationship, the Ketu man exhibiting obsessive tendencies as he becomes increasingly controlling and possessive over the Magha Moon woman.

Circling back to Red Riding Hood, the 2011 film, starring Magha Moon Amanda Seyfried, her father is played by a Ketu native. At first, he is shown to be the loving protective figure in her life, guiding her decisions and teaching her to be cautious of the world and its evils. But then, it is revealed that he was the werewolf all along who terrorized and killed the villagers.

In Scream, the Ketu woman is instead a Mula Moon native this time. She was dating the goofy and charismatic Ketuvian boy who turned out to be one of the killers and he ultimately planned her death.

And now, this time, we have a Rahuvian who played the wolf. He, just like his Ketuvian accomplice, is portrayed as initially harmless. He comes across as caring, trustworthy and reliable, especially to the other Mula Moon native who he was dating.

In the end, both the Ketu & Rahu killers unmask themselves as the "big bad wolves".

Mula Moon Reese Witherspoon was interestingly casted in three Ketu-coded films. Freeway, inspired by the Red Riding Hood tale, depicts a friendly stranger who's portrayed by a Ketu man, offering to help her when her car breaks down on her way to her grandma's, just as the wolf tries to deceive Red in the tale. Beneath his charming facade lies a predatory and dangerous nature, as he is revealed to be a serial killer.

It is also interesting that in the film, American Psycho, she plays a character who is unknowingly dating a serial killer, played by a Ketuvian man. The movie Beast stars a Mula Sun woman who also unknowingly dates a nodal-ruled serial killer.

Then in the film Fear, this time the illusory man is a Rahuvian. He is drawn to Mula native Reese Witherspoon's character, and his true dangerous, predatory nature starts to reveal itself. His infatuation with her turns into a sick obsession, leading to a sequence of violent events.

In Split, though the wolf isn't necessarily in disguise to predate, it is interesting that Ketuvians tend to play predator-&-prey to each other.

Like in The House That Jack Built, a Magha ASC woman exemplifies the theme of the wolf in sheep's clothing in the opening scene of the movie through the character named Jack. Jack is obviously played by a Ketuvian man.

When he picks her up as a hitchhiker, he presents himself as a charming and cultured individual, engaging in a seemingly normal conversation with her while masking his true violent nature. She triggers this hideous nature within him, and she acts a catalyst to his series of murders as she's his first victim.

It is important to remember that Ketu is still a shadow planet, both Ketu and Rahu highlighting the shadowy, illusory aspects of the wolf in sheep's clothing trickery.

In the film Creep 2, there's a nod to this Red Riding Hood-&-the Wolf dynamic as the Rahuvian serial killer is known for wearing a terrifying wolf mask. As expected, much like in Freeway, the nodal killer is fascinated with the Mula native who destroys him in the end.

And in the film Beast, a Rahuvian serial killer is attracted to the Mula native, and as they date each other, she finds out his true nature. She's able to debilitate him just so that she can end his life.

Ardra serial killer in Creep 2.

Similar to the Mula serial killer in Freeway, a Mula Moon serial killer, in Netflix's new film Don't Move, comes off as an extremely friendly, kind and helpful stranger who creates a safe space just to trap his victim. Another wolf in disguise played by a nodal man.

In the series You, a Mula Moon woman becomes an object of obsession for a Rahuvian man. She dates him not knowing of his truly sick, possessive nature until he destroys her.

It is interesting that another Mula Moon woman in the series is the one to go head-to-head with the nodal killer, deceiving him as she's the one to portray herself as the wolf in disguise just as he did too.

This is shown again in Once Upon a Time, in which Red Riding Hood, played by a Magha Sun woman, turns out to be the wolf after all. All this time, she's been unknowingly turning into a werewolf on a full moon, killing villagers in her wolf form.

In the series The Acolyte, Magha Sun Manny Jacinto plays Qimir who portrays himself as an unassuming, harmless smuggler and trader who appears to hold no grand ambitions. He uses a calm, almost alluring personality to create a sense of reliability, only to be revealed as the antagonist of the story in a murder spree scene as the Sith Lord.

Ardra Sun, Ardra Moon Wagner Moura voices the Big Bad Wolf (DEATH) in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.

Usually playing charming, sometimes sympathetic, evil or morally grey characters, nodal natives seem to fit into this archetype the best; as the shadow planets Rahu and Ketu come off as extremely magnetizing and illusory more than any other planetary type. This consuming quality they have makes them convincing to others with their lies and illusions, just as they are convincing as the scary monsters or captivating antiheros.

The character Kai Parker is played by an Ashwini Sun native in The Vampire Diaries. He feigns remorse and uses charm to hide his predatory intentions. His duplicity is shown when he pretends to bond with Bonnie, when they were trapped together in the 1994 prison world. He creates a false sense of safety around him only to then later reveal his true schemes. He does this a couple of times, evoking sympathy for a hidden agenda.

The character Loki could be fitting under this wolf in disguise archetype. In Thor (2011), he portrays himself as the underestimated younger brother, while quietly harbouring resentment for his brother and hiding his thirst for power. In the film, he not only backstabs Thor, but he ultimately leads Laufey to his death after striking an alliance with him (turned out to be one of his tricks).

This reminded me of Dr. Facilier, voiced by an Ashwini Moon native, who tricks and deceives Prince Naveen, seeking to gain power and control. He initially portrayed himself as a helpful ally, only to become another deceptive wolf in disguise.

And the character Ursula was played by a Magha Sun, Ardra Moon native in the Little Mermaid remake; she quite literally does the same as Dr Facilier to the naive Ariel who is portrayed by Mula Moon Halle Bailey. The cartoon version of Ursula is voiced by Ardra Moon Pat Carroll.

In Last Night in Soho, a Rahuvian man is portrayed to be suave and charismatic, luring an Ashwini native into his dangerous world which leads to her tragic victimization when his predatory manipulative nature is revealed.

In the 1991 film Deceived, a Mula ASC woman discovers that all this time she has been married to a literal wolf. It is revealed, after his death, that her husband killed a man whose name he took. Another twist is revealed that he faked his own death, and he comes after her. Her husband is Ketuvian himself, of course.

Another similar film, called Double Jeopardy, in which an Ashwini Sun woman discovers that her Rahuvian husband faked his own death just to frame her.

In the series Wilderness (2023), Ashwini Sun Jenna Coleman portrays a woman who's married to a deceitful Rahu man who turns out to be the opposite person of who she thought she fell in love with.

It is interesting, and ironic, as the one who is truly victimized by all of this is the Mula Sun woman that her husband was having an affair with. The Ashwini native becomes the wolf in disguise here when she deceives her husband back, and when she stalks and approaches the Mula woman, ultimately being the one behind her death.

Going back to the Ketuvian being obsessed with the Magha native, in this example, it is a Mula Moon, Ashwini Sun native being the object of obsession. In the Beauty & the Beast live-action, Gaston portrays himself as the quintessential hero, and it is his obsession with Belle that reveals his darkness.

His aggression and his resort to intimidation and manipulation to win her over highlights his cruelty and entitlement.

I may continue this with another nakshatra lord influence, as it seems that Moon nakshatra natives experience the same themes. As they already fill in the final girl archetype too, after Ketu nakshatras, it doesn't come as a surprise at all since all three planetary influences (Moon-Rahu-Ketu) made it into my vampirism post. It makes sense that these planetary types are linked to vampires, as vampires are illusory creatures who are known to mask their true predatory nature; fitting all too well in the wolf in disguise trope, as they are predators who appear human and can very well blend in normal society.

The song Haunted was sang by Amy Lee from Evanescence. She has Ketu in the 1H. She mentioned that the song was partly inspired by the concept of feeling watched or followed, which connects with her fascination for eerie themes and darker emotions. I find it fitting under my post as these Ketu-ruled natives attract stalkers, killers, and frightening creatures in their dangerously magnetic field.

More examples of this Ketu archetype, as I seem to have reached the picture limit.

And also. Found this Ketuvian analogy. So I'm right.